John "Soap" MacTavish Soap's Great Dane is roughly the size of a deer and somehow convinced it's a lapdog. You sit down for one second and BAM, 160 pounds of flopping limbs and tail has launched into your chest. "Oi, he's just affectionate!" You're wheezing. "He's CRUSHING ME." The dog licks your face, knocks your phone into your cereal, and drags the entire couch when he flops over. "C'mere, wee beastie!" Soap coos, and the monster gallops toward him like a wrecking ball in dog form. Your spine might never recover. But when the dog curls up in your lap, half his body hanging off, you secretly adore him. You even bought him pajamas. He destroyed them.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Ghost's dog-no, bear-no, it's legally a Mastiff looks like a military-grade tank on four legs It loves Ghost. But it worships you. Problem is, it thinks it's the size of a loaf of bread. You open your eyes every morning to a snuffling ynose and 200 lbs of "good boy" pouncing on your chest like a toddler. Ghost barely hides his amusement. He likes you. You cough up a lung. "He tried to sit on my head." Ghost just shrugs. The dog's name? Soap. You swear it was intentional. Now you're stuck between two oversized, emotionally unavailable creatures who expresses love via body slams.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Gaz got a giant Savannah cat. Like, taller than your torso, purrs like a chainsaw climbs the fridge in one leap. "Don't worry, he's gentle!" You blink at the pawprint embedded into the drywall. The cat loves you. So it kneads you-claws out. Jumps on your back unannounced. Sleeps on your chest-full weight. You once woke up and couldn't move your arms. Gaz thought it was hilarious. "Look at my little guy!" "HE'S A LYNX, KYLE." But the big baby chirps when you come home, carries socks like trophies, and screams if Gaz forgets treats. You grumble. You'd die for him.

John Price Price owns a massive mountain dog named Winston who thinks he's a lap rabbit. He's got paws the size of dinner plates and a bark that shakes walls. You sat down once and immediately got flattened by a furry avalanche. Price calmly sips tea. "Just give him a cuddle." "I'M BEING EATEN." Winston drools on your leg and sits on your shins like it's his sacred duty. He once tried to ride in Price's truck passenger seat. You got demoted to the back. "He gets carsick if he's not up front," Price said like this was normal. You protest daily. But when Winston puts his massive head on your chest... you melt.

Gary "Roach" Sanderson Roach adopted a capybara the size of a golden retriever. It follows you everywhere. Sleeps in the laundry. Climbs onto your lap during game night. It brings you leaves as gifts. But the thing is dense. You tried to push it off your lap once and pulled a muscle. Roach thinks it's hilarious. "She just loves you!" She weighs more than your motorcycle. Still, when she flops against you with a sigh like a little lawn hippo, it's hard not to coo. You caught Roach knitting her a sweater once. You helped. It took three yards of yarn. She still thinks she's pocket-sized.

Nikolai Nikolai has a Russian boar. Yes, a literal, tusked, shaggy-haired boar. She's named Masha, and she's 350 pounds of chaos And she loves laps. You made the mistake of sitting once. WHAM. Now you're flat, and she's snorting happily on top of your chest. "She thinks you're comfy," Nikolai chuckles, sipping vodka like this is normal. "She's cracking my ribs." "Da, but with love." She follows you like a puppy. Eats apples off your nightstand. Destroyed your throw pillows. Nikolai calls it "bonding." You now keep sugar cubes in your pocket. She's still not small. But you'd murder someone for her.

Alejandro Vargas Alejandro adopted a jaguar cub. It grew. Now it's the size of a small horse and thinks it's still a kitten. It tackles him when he comes home, climbs on your counter, and sits in your lap with all the grace of a bowling ball. You are terrified and in love at the same time. "Mi cielito, she's harmless," Alejandro says, petting her massive head. "She literally ate your sandals." He shrugs. "She has taste." You once woke up with her curled beside you like a 200 lb purring furnace. She licked your cheek. Your soul left your body. Alejandro smiled. "She likes you."

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra Rudy has a Flemish giant rabbit. It is enormous. It stretches from your lap to your ankles and thinks it's a little marshmallow. You try to make coffee, it follows you. You sit down, it flops sideways, trapping your legs. "Can't move," you whisper. "Then don't," Rudy replies, placing a blanket over you both. "She's a menace." "She's perfect." You tried to trim her nails. You lost a glove. But she snuggles into your chest and grunts like a sleepy loaf when Rudy scratches her head. Now you buy her strawberries. She thinks she's a teacup bunny. She's not But you love her anyway.

Valeria Garza Valeria owns a giant Great Pyrenees, a fluffy, majestic mountain of a dog who thinks he weighs four pounds. The moment you enter her house, he launches at you like a sentient cloud, tail wagging hard enough to create atmospheric disturbances. "Sorry, Valeria says, not sounding sorry at all," he loves new toys." "I AM NOT A TOY," you wheeze from beneath 140 lbs of pure fur, The dog rolls onto his back, crushing your legs because he wants belly rubs. "He thinks he's smol," she shrugs. "He's a mattress." But when he curls around you like a giant protective donut, Valeria smirks. "He chose you."

Keegan Russ Keegan's "little buddy is an Irish Wolfhound, which is hilarious because the dog is taller than both of you when standing on hind legs. "Don't worry," Keegan says calmly, "he's gentle." The dog then tries to sit in your lap. Your entire lap. And your torso. And sometimes your head: When you sit on the couch, he treats your chest as his pillow. When you stand, he tries to stand with you. "He thinks he's small," Keegan deadpans as you suffocate under lanky dog limbs. "He thinks I'm the sofa." Keegan smirks. "You are." Still, he kisses the dog's huge stupid head every morning. You pretend you don't love it too.

Konig König owns a Saint Bernard, because of course he does. The dog is a living boulder with fur, drool, and enthusiasm. You sit? He sits on you. You lie down? He lies on your spine. You try to open the fridge? He trots over and sticks his head inside like he's helping. "He's tiny," König insists, patting the dog's massive skull like it's a small melon. "He weighs TWO HUNDRED POUNDS." "He is baby." The dog follows König everywhere, almost knocking you over with his tail, his entire body vibrating with joy when König hugs him. You get crushed daily. But when he gently places one giant paw on your knee... your heart melts instantly.

Nikto Nikto owns a giant Caucasian Shepherd- a bear masquerading as a dog. When you visit, it sprints at you full speed, launches itself onto your lap, and behaves like it's a tiny pomeranian. Nikto stands there with his arms crossed. "He likes you." "He flattened me." The dog drools on your pants, sits on your feet, and rests his massive head on your stomach like he's claiming territory. You try to stand up. He leans harder. "He thinks he is small," Nikto says, petting the beast. "He's a tactical weighted blanket!" Nikto shrugs. But later, you catch him whispering in Russian to the dog, telling him to "protect you." Your heart combusts.

Krueger Krueger rescued a massive Belgian Draft Horse the kind used to pull medieval war wagons-and swears it "doesn't know its size." You believe him. Because it follows him everywhere. Inside. Outside. Into the kitchen. It tries to fit in doorways, bumping into frames while Krueger calmly guides it like this is normal. Then it sees you. And decides you are small enough to love. It nudges you so hard you nearly fall over, then rests its enormous head on your shoulder like a dog looking for hugs. "You see?" Krueger says smugly. "Small." "It weighs a car." But the horse gives soft snorts and gentle eyes, and you swear you'd die for it.

Philip Graves Graves owns a Maine Coon. But not just any Maine Coon. A 25-pound, four-foot- long monster cat named "Texas." Texas believes he is the size of a potato chip. He climbs into your lap (your entire torso), kneads with paws the size of bear cubs, and screams at 5AM for attention. Graves beams proudly. "Look at my little man!" "He is NOT little." Texas lies across your laptop, your chest, your legs... everything. He once sat on your stomach and you saw God for a minute. Graves just laughed. "He loves you." And when Texas curls around your feet and purrs like a diesel engine? Yeah. You love him too.

Farah Karim Farah owns a giant Turkish Kangal-a lion-sized livestock guardian dog who believes he is a tiny angel. Whenever you visit, he gently but insistently tries to sit on your lap, even though his paws alone weigh as much as a newborn. He wants to cuddle," Farah says with a smirk "He's crushing my internal organs," you whisper. The dog drools affectionately onto your shirt and attempts to lean his entire massive body onto your shoulder. He follows Farah like a shadow, bumping her legs like an overgrown toddler. She kisses his forehead. "He thinks he's small." He thinks he's invisible too-you found him hiding" behind a flowerpot the size of a shoe.

Hadir Karim Hadir's pet is an enormous rescue donkey that. follows him everywhere like a loyal hound. It tries to squeeze into the kitchen. It tries to sit on your couch. It once tried to sit on you. "Why does it think it's a Chihuahua?" Hadir shrugs. "She has a small heart." She has a heart the size of a bowling ball." The donkey brays loudly when Hadir leaves the room, and gently rests her massive head on your shoulder like she's apologizing for existing. You feed her apples. She loves you. Hadir smiles like he's never loved anything more-except you. Somehow the donkey knows.

Alex Keller Alex's pet tortoise is supposed to be "small" Except it's a 150-pound Aldabra giant tortoise that follows you like a creeping boulder. You turn around and it's there. You sit, it crawls into your lap-yes, all 150 pounds of stubborn reptile mass. Alex laughs every time. "He thinks you're his mom." "He thinks I'm a chair." The tortoise stares at you with ancient, wise eyes before slowly, deliberately trying to crawl onto your chest. Alex feeds it lettuce and scratches its enormous shell like it's a puppy. "He's harmless." Your bruised thighs disagree. But when he nestles under your arm for warmth? You melt. Instantly.

Kate Laswell Laswell has a massive Irish Deerhound, basically a horse wearing a dog costume. It tiptoes around the house like it thinks it weighs ten pounds, but it shakes the floorboards with every step. The moment you sit, it gingerly lowers itself onto your lap like it's a delicate teacup. You vanish under fur. Laswell barely looks up from her paperwork. "Just rub her ears." "Kate, she is suffocating me." "She means well." The dog places its huge forehead into your chest and sighs like a locomotive. Laswell smirks, sipping her tea. "She likes you better than me." Honestly? You're honored.

John "Soap" MacTavish Soap sees the Smart car and laughs. "This thing's cute. Like a hamster in a helmet." Then he tries to get in. His leg immediately hits the dashboard, knee bangs the glove box, and his elbow sets off your hazard lights. "It's fine," he mutters, half-sitting, half folded like origami. "I'm good." You glance over. He's got one leg bent like a pretzel and the other foot... on the rearview mirror. "You look like you're being vacuum-sealed." " served," he groans. "I didn't think death would come in af-kin' Tic Tac on wheels. You offer to roll down the window. "For air or dignity?" he wheezes.

Simon "Ghost" Riley He stares at the car like it's a prank. "You serious?" You nod sweetly. "Come on in." Ghost tries. One knee in, and he's stuck between the roof and your seat. His skull mask is smashed against the ceiling, his shoulders wedged into both doors. "This is a shoebox. A haunted shoebox." You're choking with laughter. “I've been in warzones with more space. I slept in shipping crates. This is worse." He finally folds himself in, breathing heavily. "If we crash, just bury me in it. Don't bother getting me out." You pat his knee. "I'll tape a flag on top."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Gaz laughs the second he sees it. "You drive this?" "Every day," you beam. He attempts to get in and immediately bangs his head. "Ow! Okay-bit tight." He scoots, wiggles, rotates a thigh. "Babe, my femurs are too long. This car hates long-legged excellence." He finally fits, somehow, but both knees are at chin level "Why does the steering wheel touch your whole torso?" he mutters. You shrug. "Cozy, right?" He sighs, defeated. "If we get hit by wind, we're toast.But I love you, so let's die together in your plastic bubble." He still takes a selfie. "#StuffedGaz."

John Price "Alright, love, I'm not climbing into that toy." You raise an eyebrow. "You scared?" He scoffs, tries to sit, and bonk. Head. Wham. Elbow. He groans like he just fought a grizzly." Bloody hell. It's like squeezing into a coffin." You offer to adjust the seat. "It won't matter. My hip's in the glove box." When he finally gets in, his arms are crossed, knees touching the dashboard, beard smushed against the window. You grin. "Comfy?" He mutters, "If someone sees me in here, I'l never live it down." But he still holds your hand the whole ride.

Gary "Roach" Sanderson He climbs in way too optimistically. "Let's gooo-ow.OW." You hear four thumps in three seconds: elbow, forehead, shin, pride. "Why is your mirror in my knee?!" he squeaks. He finally sits with both feet crossed over your center console. You raise an eyebrow. This is fine," he says, clearly dying. "We're bonding." You start the car. He bumps the horn with his chin. "That wasn't me." Ten minutes later, he's happily hanging one arm out the window like a puppy. "I live here now. Tiny car, tiny man. Vroom vroom." You swear he starts humming Mario Kart music.

Nikolai He stops, looks at the car, then back at you. "No. "Yes." "No." "Yes." He sighs. "You love pain." It takes him two tries to fit. You hear cracking plastic. "You broke the AC vent." "broke my spine," he growls. You look over. His knees are above the dashboard. One hand's stuck between the seat and the door. "You okay?" lonce escaped a burning helicopter," he groans. That was easier." You reach over and kiss his cheek. "Worth it," he says, defeated. But also muttering, "Next time, I pick the ride."

Alejandro Vargas He tries to be graceful. "Mi amor, this car is... petite." "Compact," you correct. He tries to slide in suavely. Instead, he gets stuck mid-entry. AM THE CAR NOW," he yells dramatically. You're doubled over laughing while he flails, His vest catches on the door. His holster is jammed. "This car is judging my thighs!" Eventually he's in, legs cramped, dignity gone. He smiles at you tightly. "Romantic drive?" You pat his leg. "Always." He grins. "Good. Because when we crash, I want to die in your arms. And possibly through your windshield."

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra Rudy squints at the car. "That's it?" "That's it!" He sighs softly. "Dios..." He tries to get in respectfully. But the car rejects him. His shin hits the dashboard. The seatbelt attacks him. The horn goes off. Lo siento, lo siento," he apologizes to the car. You're wheezing. "You okay?" "I think my shoulder just dislocated." He finally settles in, shoulders hunched, seatbelt across his face. You reach over and fix it. "Now you look adorable" He winces. "If we get into a fender bender, they 'll find my soul in the backseat."

Valeria Garza She eyes the car like it insulted her eyeliner. Is this a toy?" "Nope." She groans. "Fine. Move over," She jams herself in like a hurricane in a Coke can. You hear a crunch. "What was that?" "My pride," she growls. Her knees are past the glove box. The gear shift is in her ribs. Her entire aura is murder. "This thing has the audacity to have cup holders," she hisses. You giggle. "Still love me?" She glares. "I'm staying only because I love you. This car can rot." She still makes you kiss her hand dramatically.

Keegan Russ Keegan steps up, eyes narrowed. "That's the car? "It's efficient!" you say. "It's a soap dish with tires." He opens the door and stands there for a moment like he's saying goodbye to freedom. Then- crunch. His knee bangs the dashboard. His belt hook snags on the seat. His foot hits the horn. You're wheezing. swear to God, I just saw my whole childhood flash before my eyes," he mutters. You glance over. His head's practically in the sunroof, one knee folded, the other foot under your seat. You coo, "Cute." He replies, "This is a war crime. Drive."

König You thought he'd say no. You hoped he'd say no. Instead, this 6'10" slab of Austrian chaos says softly, "I'll try." You're panicking. "You don't have to-" THUMP. He's halfway in. The entire car creaks like it's crying. "Are you okay?" He's folded in half. Literally. His knees are up to his ears, head crouched into the passenger window. "I feel like I'm inside a Pringles can," he whispers. You're trying not to die laughing. "This is fine," he says. "It's not!" "I love you," he adds. "But if I sneeze, I will kill us both."

Nikto Nikto glares at the car. "This is a lie." "It's fuel efficient!" "It is a coffin on wheels." You insist he try. Mistake. He grunts, trying to fold himself in. His gear catches. His mask clips the mirror. The door doesn't close fully. He sits, barely, arms crossed, and mutters, "I can hear my joints weeping." You're wheezing. "Do not laugh. This is inhumane." You offer to stop for snacks. "Only if I can eat them outside the car." He pulls the door shut. It makes a sad creak. He whispers, "One pothole, and I will ascend."

Krueger Krueger walks up, sees the Smart car, and stares. "No." "Please?" He closes his eyes like he's entering a meditative state. "I'm too German for this." Still, he tries. One leg in. Then the other. Then his combat boots wedge under the glove box. The dashboard lets out a noise you know wasn' t mechanical Krueger slowly turns to you, deadpan. "Did you hear that?" "I heard your knees scream," you say. He exhales. "This car is actively hostile." You grin. "But you look cute." He sighs. "Fine, But if I get stuck, we're calling the embassy.

Philip Graves "Darlin', where's the rest of it?" "That is the car." He laughs. "Oh, this is adorable. A real-life sardine tin." He tries to get in. Immediately hits his head. You snort. "You good?" He's sideways, legs in a swirl, one elbow jammed in the cupholder. This is not good," he groans. "My spine is doing origami, You try not to laugh. He pulls the door shut. "I swear if we get in an accident, I'll be launched into the past." "Still love me?" "Always. But this car? Never. Next time we're takin' the truck."

Farah Karim She raises an eyebrow. "That's your car?" "Yup!" She nods. "Brave." She climbs in like a professional-calm, tactical But you see her adjusting.. and adjusting... and then: bonk. Her elbow hits the window. "Hmm." Her knee hits the key slot. Hmm. She finally sits, slowly turning to you. "This is... efficient" You'smirk. "That's code for horrible, isn't it?" "I've done recon in tighter places." You grin. "So it's not that bad?" "I'll need a chiropractor when we arrive. But yes- not that bad." You love her even more when she starts humming over the engine squeal.

Hadir Karim He looks at the car, pauses. "This is punishment, isn't it?" You giggle. "Maybe." He tries to get in, but the door refuses him like a bouncer at a club. He tries again. Foot hits the console. Head hits the visor. He groans, "I am being folded." You're in tears. "Do you want help?" want to sue the manufacturer." He finally wedges in, crooked like a paperclip. "This is like climbing into my own grave," he mutters. You kiss his cheek. "You look cute." He sighs. "At least bury me with your playlist on."

Alex Keller He blinks at the car. "You sure this isn't one of those novelty things from a parade?" You honk. "Get in." He tries. Bonk. Elbow.Smack. Knee. "God, it's like climbing inside a GoPro." You're doubled over laughing. He finally fits, but the seatbelt is across his neck like a harness. *I feel like I'm being prepped for launch," he groans. You pat his knee. "Baby, if we hit a bump, I will exit this car through osmosis." Still, he smiles, leans over, and kisses your temple. "But if I die, at least I die next to you."

Kate Laswell She walks up, looks at the Smart car, and stops. "Seriously?" "Dead serious." She sighs. "I've been in smaller." She does manage to get in-gracefully, somehow but then realizes her knees are pressing into her own chest. She doesn't say a word. Just pulls the door closed. You watch her stare forward. "Kate?" She whispers, "I can't feel my femurs." You laugh. She turns slowly. "I have led black ops, briefed the Pentagon, and disarmed nukes. But this will be what breaks me." Then she smirks. "Next date night, I'm picking the car."

Night is for contemplation and deep silence. It’s sticky skin and heavy breath. It is you, tucked between the two men you love, wondering how the three of you made it here.

You are on your side, cuddled against Alejandro’s chest, head resting in the crook of his arm. Alejandro stares at the ceiling, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting across your back. Rudy is on your other side, cheek pressed to your back, hand on your hip, fingertips lightly brushing the top of Alejandro’s hand.

“You scared us,” Alejandro finally says. Rudy hums with agreement, kissing your shoulder. “Can’t do that to us.” His voice breaks on us, and you want to draw them both in, curl inside, and never leave.

“I know. I—” you swallow, and steady your racing heart, “he was right there. Slipping away. If I hadn’t stepped in his path, tried to offer him a dance or two, you wouldn’t have him in custody.”

Alejandro isn’t angry. Neither is Rudy. They’re simply tired, overworked, hunting down cartel that want to act like kings. It’s not Alejandro or Rudy’s fault that the local cartel is leaving complete destruction in their shadow. Cartels are like hydras. Cut off one head and more take its place.

Rudy’s hand slips to your inner thigh, pulling you tighter against him. “We want you safe. Out of danger. Not taking unnecessary risks.”

You were being helpful, but that’s not your place. You’re a dancer these two men have fallen in love with, and you’ve done so in kind. They are your whole world, as much as you are theirs. You wield no gun, no badge, no bullet-proof vests, no training.

Rudy continues to kiss your shoulder as Alejandro cups your cheek, going in for a kiss of his own. In this moment, you are not regretful, just happy that they are alive, and so are you.

“We can’t risk losing you,” murmurs Alejandro.