#while waiting for this poll to finish | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidmania · 5 months ago

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inbetween | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list

summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.

warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.

an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!

part one, part two, part three

‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’

The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.

You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.

Sent from [email protected] at 5:30pm

Hi.

I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.

We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.

I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.

I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.

I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.

Heres my number, 023387677

Love, Spencer.

Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.

You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.

You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.

You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.

“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’

Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.

Until you, until now.

He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.

He also checked his email a lot.

“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.

“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.

“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.

He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.

“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.

Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.

He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.

His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.

“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.

“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.

You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.

You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.

“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.

“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.

“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.

You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.

You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.

“But I am” You muttered.

“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.

“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.

“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.

You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.

“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.

“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.

And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.

When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.

Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.

Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.

He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.

He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.

There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.

Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.

The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.

He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.

Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.

You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.

What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.

You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.

“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.

your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.

you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.

“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.

Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.

When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.

Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.

“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.

Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.

He was in love.

He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.

“Hi” He whispered back.

You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.

You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.

You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.

“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.

“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.

The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.

“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.

“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.

His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.

Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.

He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.

You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.

“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.

This, right here, him, right now.

It was everything and more.

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starlostseungmin · 8 months ago

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husband!minho

✰ notes: third entry of my husband!skz series and as for who won the poll, it’s minho’s turn!! minor warning: sex is mentioned but nothing happened!! i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan（ lee know ） jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Minho who asked, “Will you be the mother of my three kids?” instead of “Will you marry me?” on one random afternoon when you were both playing with his cats at his parents’ house. It served as his proposal and gave you a jingle ball because he didn’t have a ring with him at that time.

Husband Minho who used to be a tsundere and nonchalant person but later changed into a fully affectionate bunny the moment he fell for you.

Husband Minho who got emotional during the wedding day but tried to hold his tears back since it was expected that his friends would tease him later. He gave up eventually and cried when you slow danced with him at the reception.

Husband Minho who teased you a lot but in a loving way. He tends to be a menace sometimes but it wasn’t bad. Your big baby just loves to play with you.

Husband Minho who pretends to be annoyed when you ask for a kiss but deep inside he wants to smother you with all the love you deserve. Eventually, he couldn’t keep it to himself so he cuddles you with lots and lots of kisses.

Husband Minho who spoils you with his five Michelin-star cooking skills and serves you high-quality food. He is the happiest when you compliment him and finish everything on your plate.

Husband Minho who loves to drag you along when he goes camping and offers to take care of everything while you rest. He’d only ask for minor tasks from you to help him.

Husband Minho who sends you weird selfies and cat pictures when you’re not together and says he misses you with the kids (his cats).

Husband Minho who listens to your worries and gives constructive criticisms but at the same time he comforts you with the things you need to feel better.

Husband Minho who loves to encourage you to do the things you want as long as it would benefit him and it’s not illegal. “The heart knows what it wants,” He said. “But let’s not go to jail shall we?”

Husband Minho who lets you burst out in anger while he stood there listening to everything. He’s not the type to baby you every time and will be civil when it comes to arguments knowing who is in the right and wrong.

Husband Minho who will never allow you to sleep unless everything is resolved. He’d be sorry if it was his fault and be the cutest baby bunny that you can’t resist to forgive. This comes along with cuddles and kisses or makeup sex (if you’re both into it).

Husband Minho whose love languages are acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation.

Husband Minho whom you swoon to over and over because of how handsome and cute he is. Never a day you’d miss complimenting him by which he’ll be all red and mushy from being shy.

Husband Minho who got the interest of touching your butt out of his love and affection.

Husband Minho who lays on top of you when he sees you lying down on your shared bed the moment he gets home because he’s tired and your presence makes him feel relaxed and secure. He tends to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

Husband Minho who is loud and dramatic in the most precious way.

Husband Minho who never forgets important dates and will throw everything away just to spend time with you.

Husband Minho who acts like a mother especially when you get sick and is stubborn.

Husband Minho who is good with kids, and had asked you a few times if you want to have one with him but at the same time he doesn’t want to put pressure on your shoulders. He reassures that he can wait and doesn’t even mind if he spends his lifetime with you alone.

Husband Minho who feels appreciated and loved when you tell him about the things he means to you and how much you are head over heels for him.

Husband Minho who gets excited when you give him cat necessities. You wonder that he loves his cats more than you sometimes but he’d say you were equally receiving his love and affection.

Husband Minho who doesn’t always say he loves you but rather says that you are his getaway from everything. It’s you and him against the world, nothing could replace you as you are his happy place and favorite person. The one who comes second after his cats and knows his priorities but you get the privilege.

Husband Minho who loves you to the moon and back.

Husband Minho who treasures you the most and the one he’d put first before everything.

Husband Minho whom you’ll love for a lifetime, promised to never hurt, never leave, and never break his heart.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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rosie-read-that · 14 days ago

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one more afternoon / jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary: your brother's best friend pays a visit to his texas hometown, and in spite of your resolution to get over your (slightly embarrassing) childhood unrequited crush, you can't help but admit that you're still down bad for jake seresin.

content warnings: f!reader, alcohol use, oblivious reader can't take a hint

word count: 14k (you told me not to apologize for long fics, so here it is, i present it without apology!)

author’s note: hello, all! i wanted to have this out by thanksgiving, but i got hit with a stomach flu and then with a regular flu, so it took me this long to finish it. i hope the wait was worth it 🫶 the title is taken from a song by maggie rogers. as promised, the next one will be a short (i mean it this time!) and spicy holiday-themed one for all the tyler owens lovers 💓 thank you so much for voting in the poll that got this baby written.

“Did you hear the big news?” Your dad bustled into the shop with his arms full of greenery, grunting as he set the bundles wrapped in newspaper into a bucket. At the counter, your mom paused her accounting and fixed your dad an eager stare. She loved news. “Jake’s coming home for the wedding!” he announced. He brushed his hands off while yours fumbled over the order forms. A few slipped out of sequence and fluttered down to the floor. You bent to pick them up, hearing your mom’s sigh of delight.

“Oh, that's wonderful news! Dinah will be so pleased, and Amanda, too. She was worried Jake wouldn't manage to get leave. You know how much she adores him.”

“Well, she's not the only one. Mike’s ready to throw a whole goshdarn parade in his honor.” The forms retrieved, you busied yourself with putting them back in order. Your dad laughed. “I haven’t seen the kid that excited since the day Gilly was born.”

“Ow!” You stuck your finger in your mouth, the taste of blood making you wince.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” your mom asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just… paper cut.”

She came to your end of the counter. Taking your finger in her hands, she moved it this way and that, squinting at it through her glasses before she dropped a kiss on your head. “Mm, I think you’ll live.”

“Thanks for the diagnosis.”

“Don’t sass me!” she joked. “I’ll call Mike. Maybe we can all throw Jake a nice big barbecue, spend some time together like the old days.”

“He’ll probably be busy with wedding stuff,” you pointed out, mumbling around your finger.

She shot you a look that said spoilsport. “I know Jake, he’ll make the time. Besides, he’ll be walking with you at the wedding, won’t he?” Mom must have taken the shock of surprise for disappointment, because she smacked a hand against her forehead and said, “Oh, sorry! Me and my big mouth!”

It took you a moment to realize she wasn't talking about Jake.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, making a half-hearted attempt to sort through the forms again. Your parents looked at you skeptically. “I’m fine! Josh and I are practically ancient history.”

Dad, bless him, took your word for it, or at least pretended to. He picked up the bucket of sage bundles and took it into the back, but your mom hovered, stroking your shoulder, cloyingly sympathetic. It was clear she wanted to say something but was afraid of how you’d react. Knowing her, she’d give you that hangdog expression all day until you gave her permission to spill the beans, so you gave a deep sigh and turned to her with a look that said, “Alright, let’s have it.”

“I heard he’s bringing Mia to the wedding,” she blurted out. “Amanda was livid. She said she would disinvite him if you wanted—”

“Mom, I hope you told her that wouldn't be necessary.”

“Of course I did! But she said it was a standing offer.”

Oh, bother… Amanda was a sweetheart, if not a little overeager. As much as you appreciated everyone’s tact, it was also part of the reason why you still felt some awkwardness when you thought about Josh. Any time your friends or family brought up your ex, they looked at you like they were expecting you to fall to pieces, especially after word started going around that he had moved on to someone else. No matter how many times you insisted that they could refer to him normally and not as “him” or “you-know-who,” they thought you were being a brave martyr about it, pretending to take it better than you were for the sake of maturity.

“It’s not like that,” you explained for the thousandth time. “Josh and I are fine. And Mia…” Okay, so part of you did want to bash her over the head with a waffle iron. Still… “Nothing untoward happened. We were already broken up when they got together.”

“Well yeah, but after only a month,” your mom scoffed. “That’s hardly enough time to get over a six-year relationship.”

You shrugged. “Maybe some things are meant to be, and some… aren’t.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She hugged you from behind. You grimaced as she squeezed you tight and made cooing sounds. “You don’t have to be so civil about it. You’re allowed to be upset.”

“I know, Mom, thanks.” You patted her hand.

“Anytime.” You thought that would be the end of embarrassing conversations you didn't want to have, until she clapped her hands and said, “Look on the bright side - it’ll be good to see Jake again! For him to meet the baby - and won’t the wedding pictures be just darling? He’s so handsome! I know you’ll look just fabulous together…”

It was as much cliché as it was ancient history. Jake Seresin - tall, tan, broad-shouldered, with a thousand-watt grin and a starring place on the high school football team - had been your crush since the moment you realized boys were more than just smelly, disgusting nuisances. Hell, you'd liked him even before the letterman jacket, around the time of his first growth spurt, when he’d come back from a summer visiting his aunt and uncle in California. From the porch steps, you'd seen him running into the yard to throw ball with your older brother, Mike, and your stomach had flopped and then flipped, and then flopped again. Looking back, Jake - a mere mortal - had an awkward phase just like everyone else, but you didn't see it at the time. To you, he was the dreamiest guy since you wore out your family’s Titanic VHS trying to feed your preteen fantasies of being Rose romanced by DiCaprio (before the ship went down).

Anyway, Jake’s awkward phase didn't last long. By the time he was a sophomore, he was playing on the junior varsity team along with Mike. Your sports-mad, overly enthusiastic dad gave them his blessing to turn the barn into their own personal gym, and while you complained about the unfairness of the world and the preferential treatment given to male athletes, you did find excuses to “run errands” and “pass through” so you could see Jake, shirtless, glistening with sweat. It didn't take long for Mike to notice. As a preteen, you weren’t exactly known for your finesse. While, in your opinion, you were doing nothing more than offering the boys a little lemonade - like Mom asked you to do - Mike would go back to the house for dinner and declare for all and sundry that he’d “appreciate it if you didn't salivate all over Jake like a peeping tom.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do!”

“Mom, I swear it's not true! He’s making it up. You’re making it up, you buttface! You just don't want me hanging around—”

“Why would I want you hanging around? We’re training! You’re a kid, you're a safety risk!”

“Mooooom!” you wailed.

“Honestly, Mike, don't call your sister a safety risk. You're hardly grown yourself.”

“She called me a buttface!”

“That’s true. Sweetie, don't call your brother a buttface at the table, it's not polite.”

“Fine. I’ll call him a buttface later, like he deserves.”

No further comment was made about your crush on Jake on that occasion, but over the years it became your brother’s weapon of choice when he wanted to knock you down a peg, and “I’ll tell Jake you have a big fat crush on him” was a surefire way to get you to do whatever he wanted.

Once, you went down for a glass of water after you were supposed to be in bed and came upon Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen.

“—it’s a harmless little crush,” you heard her say. “We all had them at that age.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Of course you don't. She’s your daughter and you're finally working out that she's not going to be a little girl forever.” There was a pause. “You don't have to worry, Stan, I’ve given her The Talk.”

Ew, gross, ew! You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Yes, you remembered The Talk and you didn't want to have it ever again!

Your face heated as you knelt on the stairs. Hearing about The Talk in relation to you and Jake made you think about the stuff you’d seen at your friend Tessa’s house on the TV one night during a sleepover. You had stared at the screen, titillated and kind of horrified at what the actors were doing, the way their bodies moved and the sounds they made. Once the scene was over, you turned to each other and burst into nervous giggles, knowing your parents would blow a gasket if they knew what you’d seen. Not that you understood it. You knew how babies were made, but you didn’t understand what sex was supposed to be.

And your dad was worried about you having it? With Jake?

“He’s a good kid,” your mom gentled. “He knows she's too young for him - I’m not even sure he's aware that she likes him. Even if he is, he treats her like Mike’s kid sister. She’ll grow out of it.”

“If you say so, hon. But God as my witness—”

“She’s gonna have a boyfriend at some point.”

“When she’s eighteen,” your dad declared, “and not a moment sooner!”

You padded back to your room. It wasn’t news, but hearing that Jake thought of you as a kid dealt a heavy blow to your self-esteem. From then on, you resolved to play your cards closer to the chest - you might not be able to help the way he made you feel like your insides had turned to melted goo, but no one else had to talk about it behind your back like you had some sort of disease.

Unfortunately, playing it cool was one of the hardest things you had to do during high school. As it turned out, Jake and Mike were actually pretty good at the whole football thing. Around the time they made varsity, you zeroed in on the fact that girls found their athletic prowess to be sexually irresistible; they were crazy about them - and crazy about Jake in particular.

You watched as he winked and blew kisses at a train of girlfriends while he was out on the field. He leaned against their lockers, turning the charm up to eleven and brushing strands away from their cheeks, saying things like, “Pick you up at six?”

When he got his first truck - a beat-up old Chevy that he bought off Don Amberley by working shifts at the hardware store - you’d peer around your curtains at the sound of his horn. Sometimes Mike would take a while to leave the house, and Jake would turn his head to kiss the pretty girls in his front seat as a way to pass the time. The shy ones laughed, warding him off with a light push against his chest, while the bold ones closed their nails around his shirt and pulled him even closer, all but straddling his lap. You watched with bated breath as he put his hands on them, green with envy, wondering what it would be like to have his attention, not as his best friend’s little sister but as an actual girl.

Your suffering lasted a whole calendar year, after which Jake went off to college, then joined the Navy, and while time made you realize that you needed to move on with your life and stop making up scenarios about a white picket fence and two-point-five children, you never forgot about Jake, who in your mind - and despite your best efforts - remained the measure to which you compared every other guy.

It wasn't just his ridiculously handsome good looks, though having the body of a Greek god and a smile that made your toes curl didn't hurt. He had helped you when you’d scraped your knee roller-blading, letting you lean on his shoulder and fetching the bandages from the downstairs powder room; he joined your mom in the kitchen to do the washing-up when he stayed over for dinner, saying, “ma’am, I insist,” which earned him funny looks from Mike, but it never swayed him into doing things differently. You liked that he’d earned his first truck, got good grades, was a loyal friend. To you, Jake Seresin was the full package and then some - what more could anyone want? And while you had long accepted that he would make another woman very happy someday, the way in which your family teased you about your “little childhood crush” never failed to put your stomach all in knots. There was nothing little about it. In fact, it had now lasted well into adulthood and you had a feeling it would never fully go away.

Dad was right. Michael insisted on being part of the airport welcome wagon, cringey sign and all. He even stuck Gilly in an adorable pilot’s costume. Your sister-in-law sent you looks the entire way and, like a saint, restrained herself by only once making a comment about “your brother’s true wife.”

You sat in the backseat, trying to will yourself into being less nervous. Maybe it was your guilty conscience; for some reason, you kept thinking about all the times you’d imagined him in bed, or in the place of one of your boyfriends when you were doing couple-things. Be cool, be cool, you kept telling yourself.

By the time you parked at the airport, you thought your poker face was pretty flawless. After helping Julie wrestle the baby things into the stroller, you made your way through the chaotic mass of people coming and going through the Barbara Jordan terminal. The weather was good. Jake had texted your brother to say that he’d landed safely and was waiting to deplane, and Mike, vibrating with excitement, was trying to stake out a place in the Arrivals hall that would show his dorky Welcome Home, Hangman! sign in optimal light. Honestly, it was kind of embarrassing to be seen with him. You kept apologizing to the people he elbowed out of the way, as if to say, “Move aside, I was here first, bud!” But it did strengthen your resolve to be chill because at least one of you had to be.

Finally, you spotted a familiar face in the line of passengers spilling into the hall. Like something out of a romcom, Jake Seresin spotted Mike standing in the crowd, dropped his duffle bag, and came bounding into his arms. They talked over each other between laughter and bro-y exchanges, while Julie snorted through her nose and even Gilly sputtered and snuffled. You could take the boy out of Texas, it seemed… but back home he was still sixteen around friends.

Jake turned to you and smiled. “Hey, Cabbage.”

“Please, don’t,” you said, feeling awkward about the old nickname.

“Come here, bring it in.” He held out his arms, grinning, and there was no conceivable reason why you’d say no, so you steadied your nerves and stepped into them. He wrapped his arms around you. He smelled just as good as you remembered him - better, even, because a memory could never be as good as the real thing.

“You’re so stiff!” Jake pointed out, squeezing you tighter.

“No, I’m not.”

“What am I, your creepy uncle?” He looked down at you, then over your shoulder and spotted the baby in Julie’s arms.

His smile lit up his whole face and you felt your heart twist against your ribcage. You let out a breath when he let you go, trying not to fixate on the way his hand brushed against your shoulder as he did so, a slide that seemed to linger.

Fondness - that was all it was, you told yourself. He’d known you all your life and he was fond of you.

He turned his attention now to your little niece.With something like awe, he said, “Michael, you old bastard…” Then, “Sorry, little lady - you must be Gilly! Hi! Hi there, it’s your Uncle Jake! Your not-at-all-creepy Uncle Jake…”

“Nice one,” you threw back.

He grinned wider, saying, “Julie, how are you?”

“About as well as can be expected with a teething baby.”

“Well, you look great.”

“Liar,” Julie replied, but his comment made her stand a little straighter.

He let Gilly grip his finger in an attempt at a handshake. Being a sucker for attention, she wiggled her body in her mother’s grasp and held her arms out to the smiley stranger, wanting to be carried. Jake was thrilled. He bounced her in his arms the entire way to the car, asking about the wedding, his parents, how Amanda was doing, which of their friends he could expect to see on Saturday afternoon. Mike stuck to him like glue, carrying Jake’s bag for him and answering his questions. You were certain he’d send Julie to the back so Jake could ride shotgun, but instead, he loaded Gilly into her baby seat and Jake touched you on the elbow, saying, “I can take the middle seat.”

“You don't want the window?” you asked, your arm tingling. He had slipped on a pair of sunglasses once he left the terminal and he looked like a movie star, all golden skin, slicked-back hair, and a hint of stubble on his jaw. You had no idea how you were supposed to survive a 90-minute car ride when just the sight of him made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“I want to sit next to my goddaughter. You get her all the time,” he pointed out and ducked into the car.

Helpless, you climbed in after him and pulled the door closed. In the back of the SUV, there was no way for your bodies not to touch. By necessity, your arms and thighs pressed together, his body solid and warm. You didn't want to draw attention to yourself by squirming away even though your heart was beating double-time and you were at a loss as to what to do with your hands.

Thankfully, the car started moving, and by the time you made it onto the highway you had almost gotten used to the feeling of his muscled forearms and the smell of his cologne. You were focusing on the passing landscape as he made small talk with Mike and Julie, so it caught you unawares when he turned to you and said, “So - it seems we’re paired up for the wedding. I’m sorry about you and Whatshisface, by the way.”

Here we go… “I know that you name his name, Jake.”

“Do I? Persona non grata. I must have erased him from my memory chip.” He was grinning like the cat who caught the canary, and there was something about the twinkle in his eye that made you glare daggers at your brother, who was looking suspiciously blank-faced sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my God, Mike, what did you tell him?”

“Nothing! I just said you two broke up and that he’s with Mia now.”

“That cow,” Julie put in.

“Okay, time out!” you called, doing the motion with your hands. “As much as I appreciate this show of familial solidarity, it’s really not necessary. Josh and I are cool.”

“Well, we’re not!” Mike said.

“Then be cool, Mike! And you!” You wagged your finger in front of Jake. He stared at it like it was the most amusing thing in the world. “You just got here. Do you really want to spend the rest of the week picking fights that have nothing to do with you?”

Evidently, the answer was yes, but he raised his hands in a facetious show of surrender. “Hey, I never liked the guy.”

“Dude, neither did I!” Mike crowed.

“What? You never said anything!”

“I’ve always said that - haven’t I, babe?”

“Mike, you say a lot of things,” Julie drawled.

“…including the fact that I never liked the guy! Him and his beady little eyes—”

“He gets hay fever!” you defended. “That’s not his fault!”

“—and the fact that he stayed in the apartment—”

“I wanted to move out! Julie, a little help here?”

“Hey, I don't like the guy either.”

“What?” You were flabbergasted. You thought that everyone liking Josh was the whole reason why they felt communally betrayed by the breakup. Now they were acting like the spearheads of an anti-Josh conspiracy? “Are you seriously telling me this six years after the fact? You went to games with him!”

“Wait, you went to games with Josh Spritzer?” Jake balked, his voice going up an octave while Mike went red in the face.

“I was in a dark place, man. Julie was pregnant and you weren't around… It was a case of the pre-baby blues!”

“I feel like you just admitted to cheating on me. Josh Spritzer?”

“Hey!” you warned.

“I mean, I guess it’s all a matter of taste, sweetheart…”

“Seresin, what the hell!”

“…although God knows I never knew what you saw in him—”

“Oh, didn't you?”

“Hey, I love you all sooo much,” Julie piped up from the passenger seat, “Jake, I’m happy you’re here, but will you all shut up so Gilly can sleep?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Though Jake sobered up, the provoking glint remained in his eyes. Once more you were aware of his closeness and the heat of his skin.

“Unbelievable…” you said underneath your breath, crossing your arms, your reward being another one of Jake’s dazzling smiles.

When you arrived, the reunion was as rowdy as you expected. About two dozen Seresins and their closest friends and family had convened at Jake’s childhood home. Amanda cried when she saw her favorite cousin coming towards her, and she excitedly introduced him to her husband-to-be, a bookish engineer named Christian who came from a small family and seemed as flattered as he was overwhelmed by all the attention.

Dinner was served outdoors, buffet style. The backyard was strung up with twinkling lights and music played from a pair of speakers stationed at the back porch. The air was festive and full of hope; it was easy to get caught up in the pre-wedding bliss when you were well-fed, your glass never empty, the company some of your most loved people in the world.

Josh - thank God - was not in attendance. He was supposed to walk down the aisle with you. Your save-the-date and wedding invitation had arrived labeled with his name along with yours, the assumption being that of course your long-term, live-in boyfriend would be your date. After you’d broken up, Amanda had to reshuffle her arrangements to keep you as one of her bridesmaids, the only upside being that Jake’s uncertain attendance made him your perfect partner.

Well, perfect for Amanda, if not for you.

At some point in the night, after speeches had been made and dessert served, Jake took the seat next to you to chat with his great-aunt Sandy and her boyfriend, Clyde. The apple pie came courtesy of Mrs. Seresin, who had the best recipe in the county and probably the entire state of Texas, in your limited and yet eager opinion. You demolished it with aplomb and once you finished, Jake pushed his plate towards you, the crust untouched. “Have at it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“I know it’s your favorite part.”

The fact that he remembered made you feel sixteen again, watching him come home from university, crushed at knowing that he had a whole life you didn't know about, people he knew who were probably far more interesting, sophisticated and self-assured. He joined the Navy, and then moved out west while you stayed behind in your hometown, stationary while he took to the skies.

He had always been nice to you, for all that he enjoyed teasing you and even making fun of you on occasion. But that didn't mean you would ever be anything more to him than his best friend’s sister, someone he indulged in the same way as Amanda.

You excused yourself from the table, picking up plates as a pretense to head inside and get a few moments to yourself. This was exactly the reason why you hadn't wanted Jake to come home. Selfishly, in your heart of hearts, you had prized your own comfort above Amanda’s happiness, which made you feel like a Grade-A jerk, but you weren't ready to confront the way he made you feel after all this time. How could you explain to yourself, let alone anyone else, that you were holding out for a fantasy you’d had since you were young?

Suddenly, the presence of everyone you’d known and loved all your life felt oppressive rather than a source of delight. You poured yourself a glass of wine from one of the open bottles on the counter and went out to the Seresins’ front porch. From there, the sounds of the party seemed far away and you let out a sigh of relief. You sat on the ledge with your back to one of the vertical beams, watching the night breeze move the branches on the trees and the clouds which obscured the waning moon. Gradually, your mind slowed its pace and you were able to enjoy the song of the night critters mingled with the distant music of someone - probably Clyde - strumming his guitar.

Your repose was broken by the screen door opening and then clattering shut behind you, making you turn your head to see Jake coming outside, just a touch sheepish but for the most part his usual Jake-self, out of his jacket and carrying a bottle of beer.

He lowered himself beside you, and after a moment’s silence, said, “So, how’ve you been? Aside from Whatshisface.”

You shot him a warning look. If he was bringing up Josh, it was only to tease you like he’d done in the car and you weren’t in the mood right now to be the butt of a joke - not when you felt so vulnerable about what he was to you. (Dammit… and of course this has to be a wedding.)

“What,” he said, gently cajoling, “I can’t ask?”

“About my personal life? You never used to care.”

“In high school, I don’t think I was supposed to care. And afterwards—”

“Afterwards, Hangman got a little too full of himself,” you quipped.

“Hey… that's… actually pretty accurate, I’m not gonna lie.” He took a swig of beer, laughing as he said it. The porch light threw his features into sharp relief and you gave yourself permission to look at him - really look at him - for the first time since he returned.

Setting aside that he was gorgeous as ever, he seemed less carefree than you remembered, but it wasn’t a bad thing. He appeared, well, like a grown-up, for lack of a better word. You wondered whether you were being unfair in making assumptions when you had both changed so much in the last decade, as people tended to do. He wasn’t just the dream guy in your head; he was so many things in his own right, and he was here with you, wanting to talk - and maybe trying to get to know you on an even field.

If only that wasn't another reason to love him.

“You seem different,” you said, hoping your voice wasn’t giving you away.

He looked at you for a few breaths, the corner of his mouth tipped up but the rest of his face serious. Then he shrugged in mock humility with a “What can I say, greatness suits me.”

“Idiot…” You shook your head and let out a snort, though on the inside you felt full of champagne - fizzy and bright because he was with you.

“How's the shop going?” he asked after a beat.

“Pretty well. We’re doing the flowers for Amanda’s wedding.”

“And you're bridesmaiding?”

“It’s hardly flying F-18s.”

“I think Amanda would disagree.”

“Well, it is her wedding,” you pointed out, “she’s—”

“Out of her mind,” Jake enounced.

“She’s excited,” you corrected even as a montage ran through your head of all the times Amanda had texted the wedding party’s WhatsApp group to say that “a catastrophe” had occurred or that today was the worst day of her life because “the linen photos do NOT reflect the true shade. I wanted SAGE green - doesn’t this look laurel to you?”

“She’s my cousin,” Jake went on. “In fact, she’s my favorite cousin - which is how I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she’s the biggest bridezilla this side of the Mississippi. To being wedding buddies,” he said and held his beer out towards you, “’cause God knows we’re gonna need it.”

“Wedding buddies,” you said, and clinked your glass. You waited until he had a mouthful of beer to say, “So, how’s your love life these days?”

“O-ho!” He nearly choked. “We are not doing that.”

“That hardly seems fair!”

“Age before beauty, Cabbage: I still get to make a few of the rules.” Watching your face work into a grimace, he laughed. “You really do hate when I call you that, don't you? Look at you! It's like a full-body cringe!”

“Stop it!” you complained.

The unfortunate nickname started back when you were a kid and had a penchant for a particular Cabbage Patch doll, which, in hindsight, seemed like an emotional support object, thank you very much. You carried it around until you were forcibly parted during Kindergarten - hence, Cabbage Patch, which in time shortened itself to “Cabbage.” It was cute when your mom said it, but Jake?

“You don't seem to mind when Mike calls you that,” he replied.

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ve seen Mike in all sorts of undignified situations. It evens the playing field.”

“I’d say we've known each other almost as long.”

“It is not the same.”

“How come?”

“It’s just… not.”

“I’m getting nothing else out of you by way of an explanation, aren't I? Fine…” he dramatically sighed. “I guess I’ll stop calling you Cabbage.”

“You don't have to…”

“Nope, it's done, it's retired!”

“Thank you,” you said, a little embarrassed.

From the backyard came a round of applause as Clyde finished his song. Jake smiled at you, then leaned close with a devilish glint in his eye. “Are you sure you're okay with the whole Josh thing? We can always make it our mission to make him insanely jealous.”

You scoffed. “Please, he would never buy that. You and me? He’d see right through it.”

“I want you to know that your lack of faith in my abilities is deeply, deeply hurtful. I’m just saying! You haven't seen me in action!”

“Oh, I’ve seen you in action, alright…”

“There she is!” he cackled.

You hoped the laughter meant he’d missed the note of jealousy in your voice. “Besides, I don't care about making him jealous,” you said with a shrug. “He and Mia are good together.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah… Okay, look,” you sighed, “the only reason I’m telling you this is because you're not them, so I’d better not hear a word from Mike about anything I’m about to tell you. Deal?”

He nodded, and mimed zipping his lips closed for dramatic effect.

“There’s just… no sob story about it,” you began. “By the time it was over, it was almost a relief. And honestly? If it hadn't been for our families, we would've broken up ages ago.”

“What was wrong with him?”

By the look on his face, it was like he expected you to say he had a funny snore or that he chewed too loudly or had an extra head. If only the truth were that tangible. He wasn't mean to you, didn't cheat. But he wasn't Jake. He didn't make you excited to wake up in the morningz

“By the end, we were more like roommates than boyfriend and girlfriend,” you explained. “I mean, when it happened, did I want to claw Mia’s face off, knowing she’d been angling for an opening for years? Of course I did. But that was more about my pride than anything. I wasn't heartbroken. I’m not,” you insisted. “But telling them that would feel like ruining Christmas. They're having fun slinging mud on my behalf.”

“And maybe just a tiny part of you enjoys it?” Jake asked.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

He laughed. “Do you really think I’m above a bit of harmless spite? Hell, I practically wrote the playbook. But what you said - about your pride being hurt? That goes for him too, you know. He doesn't have to buy the whole thing, he just has to see you moving on. Trust me, it’ll hurt.”

“Maybe I don't care enough to hurt him.”

Jake studied you, his eyes shining in the warm glow. “You really have grown up,” he said at last. “I, on the other hand—”

“Oh, come on. Jake, you’re all talk, always have been.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The summer before your junior year,” you pointed out, “you spent nearly all of it replacing Will Delonge’s wooden fence and you told no one about it. The only reason I know is because Mom found out—”

“Your mom finds out about everything,” Jake lamented.

That she did. “You helped Arn McCallister with his math grade,” you added. “You asked Gina to dance at the Winter Ball when her friends made that bet—”

“Some friends,” he interjected. “I swear, Fiona Brussaurd still scares the shit out of me. What, were you keeping tabs on me all through high school?”

“Everyone was keeping tabs on you all through high school,” you confessed. “You were Jake Seresin, Hometown Hero. You still are. You could probably get away with murder.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. If you weren't mistaken, there was a tinge of pink in his cheeks, but it might have been the beer he finished, or a play of the light. “Actually, I can’t. Semper Fortis, remember? You can't fly planes in prison. Besides, I am way too pretty for that uniform.”

“And you always do that,” you replied. “Try to throw people off the scent of you being an actually decent guy. But I know the truth,” you pointed out. “You have a tell.”

“Really, what's that?”

Over the course of the conversation Jake had angled towards you without your notice; now, your knees were touching and his upturned mouth was close enough to kiss. Your heart was racing in your chest, and yet his gaze was like a challenge - don’t back down, he seemed to say, and that was all Jake. He was exhilarating, just by being himself.

You dared to draw even closer, as if whispering a secret. “Mothers love you.”

“Maybe I’m just really good at pretending.”

“Take the hit, Seresin. No one is that good.”

Smiling, he nudged your knee and leaned back on his hands, sitting with you until the first early-nighters began to leave.

Amanda Seresin was two years older than Jake. Her dad, Jake’s uncle, passed away when Amanda was fourteen, and ever since, Jake and his parents had taken her and Dinah under their wings. Jake was the closest thing she had to a brother, and though he was younger, you knew Jake was incredibly protective of her and his aunt, so you were determined not to ruin his wedding experience by being a lovestruck weirdo.

After your time together on the porch, that might prove difficult for you. But this was about Amanda. She assigned you to be his date, and you were going to be a professional about it.

Literally. You were handling the flowers, after all.

“These are a little tall, aren’t they?” your mom asked, fretting over the tulips at the center of one of the guest tables. “I asked for measurements, but now that they’re here…”

You glanced at your watch. “We have time to fix them.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, mom, all of them. Let’s take them into the kitchen, then we can rush up and change before the cocktails start.” You knew she wouldn’t have a speck of peace if she didn’t get them trimmed. She would fret and fuss, and probably commit floral kidnapping crimes when it all got too much. She liked everything to be perfect, especially for the people she loved, so you ignored the time crunch and your watch yelling at you that it was 4:35, twenty-five minutes before guests were due to arrive for drinks and canapés, and, signaling for your dad to help gather up the centerpieces, you rushed into the venue’s kitchen and started trimming down with the nearest pair of garden shears.

Your mom breathed a sigh of relief when the task was done and a few of the earliest guests offered to help carry the vases back to the tables, giving you enough time to head upstairs and put on the blue dress you’d brought in a garment bag.

So you were fussing about your looks… That didn’t mean you were not chill, it just meant you wanted to look nice… for Amanda. For the photos. It had nothing to do with Jake Seresin at all.

By the time you made it down - finally, and a little late since you spent more on it than usual perfecting your makeup - there were about sixty people on the lawn, nibbling on pulled pork sliders and mac-and-cheese bites, mini tacos and bacon-wrapped dates. You spotted your dad grabbing one of everything and your mom pulling on his sleeve, probably to hiss, “Pace yourself, hon.” She had a glass of champagne in one hand, more as a prop, since half of her attention was spent surveying her work as if anticipating one of the centerpieces to go up in flames.

Knowing her, she might have packed a tiny fire extinguisher in that glittery, silver clutch.

You stifled a laugh, grabbing a plate and a few of the canapés from a passing waiter. The rehearsal dinner was a much bigger affair than the barbecue Jake’s parents had thrown for close friends and family the night before. You knew Josh would be in attendance (probably with Mia) and so would a lot of your high school crowd. Letting out a sigh, you threw your shoulders back and tried to look relaxed, exchanging greetings as you mingled with the growing number of guests. It was a beautiful night. God must love Amanda, as He should, because the weather was balmy in a pleasant way, warm enough that the ladies could throw off their wraps and show off their dresses, the men leave their jackets draped over chairs.

The venue was a little bed and breakfast with a sprawling back patio and hedges that grew around the property, gracefully unkempt, with magnolia trees in bloom. You said hello to your old History teacher, a small, soft-spoken woman with a gray bob and tortoiseshell glasses dangling on a chain. In turn, she had taken personal interest in Amanda, Jake, and then you - she was the whole reason Amanda went into teaching, and you heard Jake mention once that he wouldn’t have joined the Navy if not for her. Sometimes, you felt a little self-conscious about not having more to show for your education, but Ms. Beauchene never made you feel like your life choices were a disappointment. She popped into the flower shop on occasion, pleased with her paper-wrapped bouquets, and no matter what, without fail, you’d ring her up and she’d say with full honesty, “These are going to make my week,” before she walked out humming.

You were glad Amanda included her in the rehearsal, especially when you spotted Josh walking in with his arm around Mia’s waist. Excusing yourself, you made for the bar and ordered one of the signature cocktails, Amanda’s favorite blackberry bourbon smash, and downed half of it before turning back and making small talk as if your life depended on it. Strangely enough, it wasn’t the sight of Josh that had you feeling like the inside of your brain was crawling with ants. It was Mia. You hated the thought of her seeing any kind of weakness in you - that she might take in your appearance and think that your hairdo was messy or that your eyes looked a little dark, and assume from it that she’d left you a human wreck after her little victory.

Without a doubt, Mia had attended the Fiona Brussaurd School of Mean Girls, and the last thing you wanted to do was appear like the lesser creature. So when your family began to fuss under the pretense of “casually” making conversation, you swatted them away, feeling grateful when dinner was announced and everyone could retreat to their neutral corners.

You chose to sit at a table with a few old school friends, one of whom was also in the wedding party, and to avoid the meaningful looks Julie had been sending you all evening, you sat with your back to the rest of the guests, enjoying the hour of relative peace and reminiscing, the view of an ornamental fountain set with warm lights, and your plate of pan-seared sea bass and cheesy potatoes. Gradually, the music shifted from sit-down easy listening to dancing tunes, and the people at your table began seeking out partners or joining those already on the lawn who were spinning and jiving in every available space.

Soon, you were alone at the table. You leaned back in your chair, enjoying the breeze against your face. If you closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of music and laughter, you could almost forget all the drama with your ex…

You felt a tap on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw Jake and his movie-star grin. The butterflies started banging around your stomach again. Forget the tulips, you were the one with your nerves all in a tangle tonight.

“Hey, stranger - ’nother drink?” he asked, offering you another of the bourbon cocktails. He had a rocks glass in his other hand, and without waiting for an invitation he took the chair next to you, throwing his arm across the back of yours.

You replied, “Yes, please,” trying not to melt into his touch. Nuzzling against him like a cat would not be chill, you reminded yourself, even if he did look incredible with his open dress shirt collar and the little peek of his chest made you feel like a Victorian with the vapors.

He lounged in that casual way of his, attractive without trying. “These things really go on forever, don't they?”

“And it’s just the rehearsal dinner.”

“What happened to getting married on a Tuesday while everyone’s at work?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you just quote Runaway Bride?”

His face went still. “What, no.”

“Yes, you did!” you exclaimed, setting down your drink and straightening in your seat. Jake looked mildly panicked and was doing his best to look innocent, which you found absolutely hilarious. “Oh my God, are you a closet romcom man?”

“It must've been subconscious.”

“Subconscious, my ass,” you shot back.

“She looks happy.” Jake tipped his head towards Amanda despite the fact that she was behind you both, out of sight, and clearly being used as a way to change the subject. “You know the guy?”

“You met him yesterday,” you said. And I know what you're doing implicit was in your tone.

Jake shrugged, an expert at deflection. “Yeah, but it's hard to tell what a guy’s made of from a single meeting.”

Deciding that the accusation of Romcomitis would go unanswered on this particular occasion, you tested the limits of his cool under pressure, pretending to deliberate before you played along with the conversational shift.

“D’you want to hear the absolute worst thing I can think to say about him?”

Jake went battle-ready, poised to hate the guy. You watched his shoulders and the set of his jaw change, and it made you want to touch the side of his face and kiss the frown away, laughing as you did.

Just messing with you, you would say.

It would be so easy. Maybe the fantasy was clouding your judgment - along with your third cocktail of the night - but you could feel in your body that being with Jake would be as natural as breathing.

You looked over your shoulder, watching Christian lean into Amanda to whisper something into her ear.

He had his hand on her arm and looked a little spooked, probably because one of the Seresins’ honorary aunts, Jackie, who was known for her tell-it-like-it-is comments, no matter how indiscreet, was walking away. Poor guy. Amanda giggled at whatever he said and stroked his hand, whispering back words of reassurance. Their demeanor together was easy, full of shorthand. And Amanda did look happy - so happy that it made you a little jealous, pleased as you were that she had found her person.

Jake followed your gaze, watching them alongside you.

“He's a little dull,” you explained. “But in a good way. He mellows her out.”

“Amanda? That sounds like an impossible task. But I can see it…” He cocked his head. “I think.”

You turned your eyes back to your own table. Jake was fiddling with his glass, watching the amber liquid swirling around the oversized iced cube. He looked pensive, a furrow appearing between his brows that, in another life, you would have stroked away.

He shook his head and raised the glass to his lips. “You don't realize how much you've missed…”

Before you could think about it, you had your hand on his arm. “Hey, no one's keeping score.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Then don't,” you insisted. “You do what you've gotta do - we all know that. Your parents know it, Amanda knows it. She’s just happy you're here.”

You could tell that, as much as he appreciated your words, they weren't enough to sweep away all the moments he hadn't been around to see. It didn't matter that Jake loved flying planes, that he was proud to be one of the best naval aviators in the service, and wouldn't change his career for the world. He was still in a position where he had to ask you what Amanda’s future husband was like. He had missed his goddaughter’s christening, had to rush out of Mike and Julie’s wedding five years ago… He’d made an oath, and for as long as he wore the uniform, his first commitment was to something other than his family. Other than himself.

He spoke his next words quietly, almost to himself, just for you.

“You know, the thing about flying is that when you're up there, nothing else matters. It can’t. All of your focus, all of your faculties, your energy… they're in the air. Meanwhile, all of this real life… the thing we’re meant to be safeguarding for everyone else, it doesn't stop, and when you land right back in the middle of it—”

He stopped.

“Yeah?” You were hanging on for the rest of it, eager for these little pieces of Jake that you stored up even after he was gone.

“I mean, it feels like yesterday since I left for college, signed up. Now Amanda’s getting married, Mike’s having kids, you are having just the worst luck of the year…”

“Hey!” you laughed.

“I’m kidding, kidding!”

“You’re sounding like an old man, Jake. You're thirty-two - pull yourself together. Jeez! Who knew Top Gun would make you so existential? Is that why you're self-medicating with classic romantic comedies?”

“If you ever tell Mike, I swear to God—” He pointed his finger at you, and you pinched it in two of yours, earning a chuckle and a childish attempt at a thumb-war game that was interrupted when the bride herself came up behind you and threw her arms around you both with a “Hey, you two!”

“Mands!” Jake exclaimed, craning his neck to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Having fun?”

“Absolutely. So, so much—”

“You big fibber,” Amanda threw back. “Why are you here? Go dance!”

“Can’t. I’m keeping my date company, and a gentleman never abandons his date. It’s in the rules.”

“Good thing I know you're not a gentleman. You're in my wedding party!” she said. “It’s up to you two to set a good example for the other guests.”

“Yes, ma’am. Shall we?” He offered you his hand, throwing Amanda a look that said, See? I’m following orders.

She smiled back, giving you room to rise from your chairs and circle round. With her arms crossed, she watched as you found an open space, making sure you’d followed through before seeking out her next victims.

As bad luck would have it, the song switched from something uptempo to an Ashley Monroe ballad, romantic strings and all. “Has anybody ever told you/ that when you walk into a dark room/ the light of a thousand moons surround you?/ Yeah, there's just something about you./ Has anybody ever told you?”

It was stupid, but the words felt so real with Jake’s hands on you that you were worried he’d be able to read your mind or see on your face that you meant every sentence. You tried looking anywhere else, at the other couples, the catering staff picking up empty glasses, at your mom fluffing a perfectly decent bouquet, anywhere but at Jake.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” you asked, eyes darting nervously at being caught red-handed.

“Tense up like I’ve got the plague,” Jake said. “You’re making this weird.”

“I’m making what weird?”

“We’re dancing!” He pressed one hand against your hip, the other into your lower back. “Just dance!”

“By which I’m sure you mean, ‘just follow my lead’?”

You didn't mean to sound so prickly, you were just panicking and trying to throw Jake off the scent. This does not constitute playing it cool, you scolded yourself. But instead of taking it badly, Jake laughed as he stared down at you.

“If you like. Or I can follow yours if it makes you feel any better. Here, you can put your hand on my waist - but leave room for Jesus.”

“Dork.”

“There we go,” he cajoled, swaying with you in time to the beat. “Letting you insult me seems to really get your engines going. We should analyze that.”

“Don’t you ever stop talking?”

“I don’t know, do I?” He cackled out loud at the dark look you sent his way, stroking your back in a way that meant absolutely nothing, but which you felt all the way down to your toes. “You make it too easy,” he added.

Jake’s sense of humor made it hard to stay self-conscious. Eventually, you eased into the dance and you were almost sorry when the song switched to something a little more upbeat that didn't require him to stand so close to you. Still, he twirled you in a circle and brought you back into the solid curve of his body, showing off.

Then, out of nowhere, his face worked into a scowl as he spotted something a few yards to your right. You turned your head to see what it was, so lost in the moment that it took a few seconds for you to register that Josh was dancing with Mia, quite well, actually, to the Texas Tornados.

“Look at that schmuck.”

“Jake…” you warned.

“What? It’s just an observation, I’m not saying it for your benefit.”

“She looks incredible,” you sighed. On anyone else, the dress she had on would make them look like a costume disco ball, but on Mia it looked modern and chic, showing off her body and matching well with a slicked back bun and dangly earrings.

Jake’s shoulder rose and fell beneath your hand. “If you say so. She’s not really my type.”

Are you serious? “Jake, just about every woman is your type.”

“I’m sorry, are you slut-shaming me right now? In this political climate? I could have you canceled for that.”

“Ha-ha,” you said in response. “I mean, look at her, she is objectively a 10 - don’t say you wouldn’t. Hell, I would if I were inclined that way… Don’t!” You pinned Jake with a warning stare, cutting off the joke that was on the tip of his tongue and dying to come out.

“Well, I wouldn’t now,” he said instead.

“Gee, thanks.”

“For the sake of our friendship.”

The word made you tense up again - not on purpose, it was an automatic reaction you wanted to take back as soon as you went stiff all over again. And it didn't escape Jake’s notice.

“What?” he questioned, cupping your shoulders and shaking you a little as a gag. “Oh my God, have you ever thought about taking up yoga? Meditation?”

“Flying lessons?” you shot back.

“Hey, don’t knock it. Compared to you, I am a very chilled-out person.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to admit that he was right. No matter what was going on inside Jake, he knew how to keep a calm exterior. You’d always admired that about him. With the exception of your dad, your family wasn't known for its cool under pressure. Even Mike could be a bit of a basket case. That’s why he and Julie worked so well together.

You sighed again, wondering if you’d ever find your own version of Christian or Julie, someone who fit with all of your wonky parts and made you feel, regardless of circumstance, that everything would turn out okay.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” You looked at Jake, startled by the remark and the heat rushing into your face. He was dead serious. The levity you saw in his eyes had nothing to do with his tone, which was kind but not pitying. And you knew Jake would never say something like that if he didn’t mean it. “Not that it’s a competition,” he tacked on, “I’m just saying… don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure he’s eating his heart out right now.”

“And how would you know a thing like that?”

“Because he hasn’t stopped looking at us for the last sixty seconds.”

Your gaze drifted off to the side before Jake took your chin in his hand, his touch gentle and yet firm.

“Don’t look!” he chided. “Jesus… That’s recon 101 - I’ve got your six, you keep dancing and pretend we’re not talking about him, you amateur!”

“Sorry! You’re so bossy!” you grumbled, fighting off another blush.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

The word zinged through your body along with the killer Jake Seresin dimpled grin, and to make matters worse, he twirled you again, laughing when he brought you to rest your back against his chest. Josh froze when he saw you, spotting Jake’s hands on your waist. But you couldn’t care less - you were breathless, with Jake’s mouth close enough to kiss, reminding you of his knee nudge on the porch and his arm beneath your hand.

For a moment, you could almost believe that he was flirting with you for real. If you turned your head, would he accept the press of your mouth against his? Would he push you away or pull you in closer, regardless of your families watching and Josh staring, almost open-mouthed, like he couldn’t believe Jake fucking Seresin would give you the time of day?

Before you could make a choice, the song ended and Jake released you from his grip, keeping a hand on your back as he herded you away from the dance floor and to the bar, where he ordered a beer and asked if you wanted something. If you answered, you weren’t aware. You felt not in control, your stomach all in knots and the memory of Jake’s touch seared into your skin. A part of you still wanted desperately to kiss him and the other wanted to rush into the B&B and burst into tears from sheer confusion. Meanwhile, Jake seemed perfectly fine, chatting with the bartender on duty and leaning against the counter as he dropped a few bills into the tip jar.

“What are you doing?” you asked when you felt him touching you on the shoulder.

“Pretending you have lint on your dress.”

“Hey! On the dance floor was one thing, but I am not aiming to make this entire weekend about making my ex jealous. Any high school dude-vendetta you have against Josh should be addressed on your own time, you psycho. Besides, he’s never going to actually buy it.”

“Alright.” Jake threw up his hands, lowering the charm down a few watts. Your drinks were set down on a pair of square cocktail napkins and you took up yours, a fizzy gin thing with lemon that made you wonder whether you shouldn’t have stuck with bourbon to avoid going around with a hangover on Amanda’s wedding day.

Jake went on. “But I’m really not liking all this negative self-talk, you know. Mia might be a 10, but at most he’s, like, a 6…”

“Oh, be quiet!”

“You’re an 8.”

“What?” The alcohol either rushed up to your head or evaporated completely. How the hell did Jake manage to say things that left you completely dumbfounded and without a single intelligent thought in your head? And he did it with a smile! This one was purposefully subdued as he waved around with the beer in his hand as if making a profound point.

“You’re way out of his league. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed?”

“Okay, well…”

“You’re blushing!” he remarked. “That’s adorable.”

“You’re not funny, Seresin.”

“Hey, I joke about a lot of things, but I don’t go around handing 8s to just anyone.”

“Oh, look, they’re bringing out coffee.” The needle was tipping firmly towards the need to escape, though it wasn’t that serious - you knew it wasn’t; Jake had a tendency to be a flirt and he usually didn’t mean anything by it. Sometimes, it could even be amusing to play along, to get swept up in his wit and the light of his attention. But you didn’t want to play. And you didn’t want to seem ungrateful for his company because you weren’t. You loved every precious second you got to spend with him, knowing he’d be off to California soon and that the next time you might see him could be months or even a year from now.

Getting your hopes up would be a mistake, and you were dangerously close to doing it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He touched your elbow gently. You wished he couldn’t read you so well. Or that he could read you better, and see what you had been trying to say to him for years but were too scared to utter.

You did your best to smile. “Nothing’s wrong. You don’t have to hover all night. Go, take a load off, have fun.”

“I am having fun,” he said, frowning. “Aren’t you?”

“I was. I am,” you corrected, frustrated with yourself for not taking it better. For not being cool and together and the sort of girl who took charge and damned the outcome. She would’ve kissed Jake when she had the chance. She would have shown up to California. Hell, she would’ve made her move ages ago instead of pining, pathetically, and letting twenty years go by.

That’s what Mia had done. And that’s why she had her dream guy - your former guy - while you were exactly in the same position, too tongue-tied to take a shot.

“Just… can you give me some space?” you blurted out, your frustration bleeding through.

The hurt in Jake’s expression was there and gone in a lightning flash, but you’d seen it and you felt terrible about it. Before you could say anything to make it better, he’d replaced it with a devil-may-care smile.

“Got it,” he said, his voice a little tight around the edges. “Well… I’ll make myself scarce. Holler if you need me.”

With that, he took his beer and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to weave your way through oblivious partygoers to find the nearest ladies’ room, where you locked yourself in a stall and tried not to ruin your makeup with the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Hindsight was a bitch. The next morning you were sure you’d overreacted, made a fool of yourself and created a potentially awkward situation now that the wedding day was upon you and you had to take his arm, in - you glanced at the digital clock on your nightstand - five-and-a-half hours, and walk with him down the aisle wearing a smile for the sake of the photographers.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands and calling yourself every name in the book.

Jake had promised to be your wedding buddy and then sweetly kept his word, and what did you do in response? Completely freak out, you scatterbrained nincompoop.

As penance, you threw yourself into the arrangement of the reception flowers, channeling your mother while you directed the staff this way and that, trying not to think about Jake and the mortifying apology that awaited you. It was the right thing to do - not only to clear the air but because he hadn't deserved being chewed out in a momentary panic, and you knew you wouldn't feel right with yourself if you didn't take the blame and say your mea culpa.

But boy were you dreading it.

“You should head out now, Cabbage,” your mom advised around eleven o'clock. “Dad and I can handle the rest and you should be with Amanda, spend some time with the girls before the big event.”

“Are you sure you don't need help with the aisle arrangements?” A cowardly attempt, but you did it anyway.

“We’ve got it,” Mom repeated, turning you around and all but shepherding you into the parking lot. She waved you off with a “have fun,” and you couldn't help your brain’s internal response of “fat chance.”

All the way to the B&B you kept rehearsing what you might say to Jake when you saw him, but by the time you pulled up and found a free parking space, you were sweating, physically and metaphorically, and thinking that, maybe, if you listened to TED Talks rather than Dateline, you might have an enlightened response to your current dilemma.

You fetched your bagged bridesmaid's dress from the trunk of the car, along with your makeup bag and hair tools. You’d have to use the shower before you started getting ready, but you were looking forward to get-ready champagne and a throwback playlist. Anything to feel more like your normal self and less like a silly teenager who couldn’t talk to boys.

You went up three flights of stairs to reach the bridal suite. From both sides, you could hear music spilling out into the hall, an ABBA classic clashing with Brett Young. Automatically, you placed your hand on the doorknob leading towards bouncy 80s pop only for it to turn and spring open, revealing Jake with an undone bow tie hanging around his neck.

It could be that your mouth sprung open, not expecting to see him that abruptly and without giving yourself your planned thirty-second pep talk.

Your mind went blank. All you could do was stare at him like an idiot as he pointed across the hall and said, “Bridal suite’s that way.”

“Yeah, it was…”

“The Super Trouper? Groom’s choice.”

“Are you sure it wasn't yours?” The joke spilled out of your mouth, landing awkwardly to your own ears. But Jake smiled anyway, glancing down as he let the door close behind him.

He rubbed the side of his freshly shaved cheek. “I’m headed down to the front desk, by the way. I swear I’m not stalking you.”

You deserved that. So instead of cringing down into the floor - which was what you really wanted to do - you took the hit and said, “I didn’t think you were.”

“About last night…”

“I’m sorry for flying off the handle. I’m just… a little stressed,” you cut him off. It was an understatement, and not totally honest, but it was the best you could do without getting into the embarrassing particulars.

From the groomsmen’s side, Britney Spears followed ABBA, singing, “Oops, I did it again,” which seemed perversely apropos and just another reminder that you were a puppet of fate. Presently, you had to be paying for God knows what sin - probably calling Mike a buttface all those years before.

“Hey, I get it. I wasn’t trying to be clingy,” Jake went on.

“You’re not! You’re a good friend… Thank you.”

It pained you to say it, but you figured now was as good a time as any to face facts: you only had a few more days together, and you didn't want to spend them all wasting what you had, wishing it would turn into something else. Friendship with Jake was good enough. He was kind and loyal and honest; hell, anyone would be lucky to have him in their corner.

Maybe what you needed was a little gratitude. It was a wedding day, after all. Your friends and family would all be gathering in a few hours to celebrate Christian and Amanda and they had chosen you to be a special part of their most important day. How cool was that?

“Can we just not talk about Mia and Josh today?” you asked, hefting the garment back up your shoulder. “I want to focus on Amanda and make sure she has a nice time at her wedding - get drunk but not sloppily so, take a few pictures, dance a bit, not feel like everyone’s waiting for the Jerry Springer shoe to drop?”

“We can do that,” Jake replied.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“See you on the other side?”

“You bet.”

He went down the hall, turning right and bounding the carpeted stairs. You watched him go with a sigh, deciding that it was hard to be a grown-up and lovelorn at the same time. The two things were so incompatible - liking someone, loving them even, felt utterly undignified.

Nonetheless, you could breathe a lot easier after clearing the air. With the apology out of the way, you threw yourself into full bridesmaid mode, squeezing into the cramped bathroom with five other women in customized robes who were curling, straightening, powdering, talking, fighting for counter space, gasping at gossip, and being an overall flurry of chaos while the bride reigned over all, putting in comments through the haze of hair- and setting spray.

The air in the room was joyous, with a smattering of nervous energy mostly provided by Amanda.

Once dressed in your different styles of champagne satin, the bridesmaids focused on making sure Amanda was ready for her starring role. You took turns doing up the buttons on the back of her wedding gown, and when Dinah popped in to give her a pair of diamond earrings she wore to her own wedding, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. “Do not let my mascara run!” Amanda urged, prompting Carrie, the maid of honor, to jokingly rush forward with a folded-up Kleenex and dab at her eyes.

The groomsmen left for the wedding venue first, piling into a shuttle after yelling well-wishes through the door. Fifteen minutes later you followed suit, with Ali O’Rourke pouring canned cocktails into plastic cups and filming the journey at the same time as her phone blasted Taylor Swift (“But none of the breakup songs!”). In twenty minutes you were at the botanical garden, arranging the first look through a comical series of shouts and mimes partially obscured by a tall bush and caught on camera by the couple’s videographer. Once Christian had gotten the memo to stand there, at the edge of an ornamental pond but with his back to the azaleas, you pushed Amanda in his direction and waved her on, giving whistles and catcalls when he dipped her into a kiss that was very un-Christian-like and all the more romantic for that reason.

Once the wedding party photos were done, it was time to head inside and wait for the guests to arrive. You found that, like Amanda, you were feeling a little jittery now that patience was all that was required. From the double doors to the altar, it was a fairly long walk and you were worried that your heels would sink into the grass or that you would fall flat on your face. Luckily, you weren’t the only one with that fear. Amanda’s coworker, Lucy, who had never been a bridesmaid before, had a minor freakout, and talking her down helped you allay your own fears, as did the liquid courage courtesy of Ali’s dress having pockets.

(Amanda: “I don’t remember reading that on the website.”

Ali: “That’s because you didn’t. I had it tailored.”)

At last, the wedding coordinator called for everyone to take their places and Jake came towards you, looking smart in his tux. At the rehearsal dinner you’d heard Mike asking, “So, where’s the dress uniform?”, to which Jake replied, “And upstage you?” Well, uniform or not, you were sure he could upstage anyone. To you, he was the handsomest person in the room, and you were in danger of saying so until Jake beat you to the punch.

“Look at you, you clean up well!” he remarked.

“And you look terrible.”

“Now I know that’s a bald-faced lie.”

You laughed. Humble as always. You were glad to see that all the awkwardness between you had gone, in no small part because of the excitement over the ceremony. A sudden hush came over everyone as Harriet signaled for the doors to be opened. Jake held out his arm. “Shall we?” he said, echoing his words when he asked you to dance.

This time you were ready for it. No matter what, in this particular moment, you and Jake were allies - wedding buddies, he said - and instead of overthinking things or making a mountain out of a molehill, you were resolved to enjoy it.

You took his arm and faced forward. The first strains of music began. Showtime, Harriet mouthed, while at the altar Christian turned to meet his bride.

The ceremony was over in the blink of an eye, followed by a drinks reception and a sit-down dinner punctuated by toasts that ranged from the humorous to the downright sentimental. Now that Amanda had clipped up her train, she seemed more relaxed than she had been in the morning, and it made you feel like you could let down your hair, so to speak, and enjoy the party underneath the light-strewn tent.

The guests were eager to dance. Without letup they moved through classic wedding standards and modern dance hits to country reels and the obligatory playing of “Mr. Brightside,” a moment which Sandy and Clyde stole with their enthusiastic head-bops. You couldn't remember the last time you danced, or laughed, half as much, and even the appearance of Josh and Mia couldn’t steal your good mood. As long as they kept to their side of the tent, you could pretend they weren't there and if Mom or Julie sidled up with a comment in defense of your honor, it was easy to point a finger to your ear as if to say, “What? I can’t hear you, the music’s too loud!”

Jake kept close for the most of the night, leaning in close and making funny comments about the hidden goings-on - who was putting the moves on who, who was sneaking mini cupcakes into their purse, who got carted off to the indoor area after over-imbibing and nearly causing a minor dancefloor traffic incident.

Maybe it was all his Navy training, but for a guy’s guy Jake had an uncanny eye for gossip, and you said so, winning a laugh and another request for your oath of secrecy.

“I hate to tap out before Great-Aunt Sandy,” he said halfway through the Jailhouse Rock, “but do you want to take a breather? I feel like I’m getting a stitch in my side.”

“You? Sheesh, Hangman, you're really letting yourself go,” you chaffed. “What'll the higher-ups think when you get back to San Diego?”

“Well, if they really want to replace me, I’ll send them Aunt Sandy’s way.” He led you outside, where you promptly balanced one foot at a time trying to unclasp your heeled sandals while Jake watched, snorting before he took pity on you and let you lean on his arm.

His very muscled arm…

Inwardly, you sighed like one of the Bimbettes from Beauty and the Beast, but hey, you’d behaved yourself all day; you were allowed to have the occasional impure thought.

With a little sound of triumph, you managed to remove your shoes and held them by the straps, walking on the grass in your bare feet. You had a pair of flats in your purse, but that was somewhere inside and, anyway, the ground felt good against your tired arches. You’d been dancing for over two hours and needed the break.

“How do you even stand in those death traps?” Jake eyed your shoes as if they were hand grenades, which amused you to no end seeing as they’d cost you a small fortune precisely because they claimed to be comfortable.

“They’re not so bad,” you replied. “Besides, I wouldn’t need them if you weren’t so tall.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You shrugged, keeping your face deliberately blank. “It’s a free country.”

“Wow…” Jake huffed through a laugh, “you are incapable of just being nice to me.”

“What, I am nice!”

“In a backhanded-compliment sort of way, sure.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘Jake, you’re the biggest 10 at the wedding’?”

“Oh, I don’t know, but we’re getting warmer,” he said with a toothy grin, entering a path bordered by low hedges leading to the pond where the first look had taken place.

The lights from the wedding reception lit the way, along with the small solar-powered fixtures planted in the ground, but for the most part the darkness was a respite from the sights and sounds of the packed tent. In a way, it made it easier to talk to Jake, ignoring your history, feeling like a girl who’d been asked on a walk by someone who wanted to spend more time with her.

You laughed, leaning into the role of interested flatterer. You were walking backwards, even daring to place your hand on the front of Jake’s shirt, trusting him to lead the way and keep you from tripping into a bush. “You’re an incredible dancer,” you put in, going full Bimbette. You might have batted your eyelashes, and your voice took on the dreamy girlishness of Marilyn Monroe, which only gave Jake the giggles as he tried to maintain his yes, I am all the things composure. “You look as good in a tux as you do in your Navy uniform.”

“Both true.”

“You’re funny and smart, and soooo interesting.”

“Don’t I know it.”

You gasped, stopping in your tracks to place your hands on his cheeks. Jake was smiling from ear to ear, struggling to keep his lips pressed together. “You’ve got a face like an Old Hollywood dreamboat.”

He nodded solemnly, the slight clearing of his throat the only indicator that he was on the verge of breaking character. “You’re not the first person to say that, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm, does that surprise you? Do you disagree?”

“Of course not, this is the Jake Seresin Appreciation Hour.” You draped your arms around his neck. Maybe it was the cocktails or the distant wedding music making you bold, but Jake didn't pull away and you were only pretending - at least, that was your justification when you felt the weight of his hands on your hips.

“Go on, then.”

“Your eyes are green.”

“Now you’re just stating facts.”

“Fine, but you’re being a very picky subject!”

“I’ll have you know,” he scoffed, “Jake Seresin Hour was not my idea. You don’t get to institute it and then complain when I point out your lazy reporting.”

Lazy reporting? You were ready to duke it out over that and he knew it, his eyes alight with the challenge, head cocked to see what you’d come up with next. Your back hit the trunk of a live oak and you felt the adrenaline in your veins mixing with the alcohol and a sheer attraction that wouldn't be kept at bay. You wondered briefly whether this was what flying was like - a full-bodied, present physicality, all instinct, every move stretched taut and your nerves like live wires.

Jake glanced at your mouth and it left you breathless. Little wonder, then, that the next words out of your mouth were half confession, half part of the game.

“There’s not a single person at this party who isn’t head-over-heels in love with you.”

“Not a single one?” Jake argued. “Not even the groom?”

“Not even the groom.”

“Well, obviously, we’re not including my relatives in that.”

“But everyone else…” you trailed off.

“Everyone else. Including you?”

“Especially me.”

It’s just a game, it’s just a game. The thought kept clashing in your head with the urge to say “kiss me” and he was standing so close, with his body half pressed against yours, solid and warm, realer than any lust-fueled fantasy you could’ve come up with in the dead of night, the party forgotten with him as your only view, and you kept thinking, Maybe he wants me to. Maybe it wouldn't matter. Maybe I should do it - what would be the harm?

The answer to this final point was obvious, and yet he was hard to resist. His fingers brushed against your waist, the touch feather-light enough that it might have been in your imagination except for his forehead pressed down to yours, his heart beating steadily beneath your nervous hand.

Without debating it further you pulled him into a kiss, shutting your eyes against any possible consequences as you memorized the taste of his mouth, the weight of his hands sliding down your back, the heat of his breath. You pulled away, mortified by your lapse in judgment and the obvious proof of feelings which you now couldn't take back.

There was no undoing this, but still you tried.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I’m… I’m drunk… I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You slid past him, holding your breath, willing him not to follow after you or try to stop you from fleeing. Your body felt like it was short-circuiting, blazing with need and then doused in icy-cold regret and horror at your own actions.

So he had flirted with you. That didn't mean he wanted to kiss you; it certainly didn't signal any romantic interest that merited you throwing yourself at him and telling him, of all things, that you loved him!

You went back to the party, picking your purse up from behind your chair and forcing a smile when people stopped you to chat, making excuses and saying you had to go to the bathroom. Inside, you moved past the lobby and straight out to the drive, where the hired shuttle service was taking guests in no state to drive to and from a few local hotels.

The driver asked if you were ready to leave and you said yes, feeling mildly guilty for staging an Irish goodbye, but there was no way you could go on pretending for the rest of the night, let alone face Jake. You prayed that everyone would be too busy having fun to notice your absence, and if not you would apologize profusely tomorrow at brunch, claiming a headache or exhaustion or anything else that might obscure your bad decision-making and propensity to lose your shit around Jake.

You were let onto the bus, the sole passenger as the driver turned on the engine and radioed his boss to say he was en route to the B&B. Just as you were relaxing into your seat, Jake came bounding up the steps, giving the driver a cursory nod just before the doors closed behind him and the vehicle began to move.

“Can we talk?” he asked, sliding next to you and dropping his jacket in his lap.

“There are, like, fifty open seats.”

“But you’re sitting in this one,” he said with the ghost of a grin. You would've rolled your eyes if you weren’t busy wishing you could teleport to literally anywhere else.

You faced forward to the other cars on the road, watching their taillights shine as you moved into nighttime traffic. “Can you do me a favor? I know you’ve done a lot of them over the past couple of days, but can you just forget that ever happened?”

“No.”

Aghast, you turned your head to see Jake looking maddeningly smug, not to mention relaxed, while he was invading your personal space and driving you to the brink of mental collapse.

“Why not?” you demanded.

“Why not? Because I don’t want to.”

“And is what I want—”

“Completely irrelevant,” he finished for you. “Besides, you kissed me, remember?”

“I don’t. I’ve wiped it from my memory chip.”

With a smile, Jake leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips that was almost chaste, except for the brush of his tongue against your lip and his fingers cupping your chin in a hold that was teasing and gentle, and undeniably thought-out.

“How about that one?” he asked, pulling away just enough to view your reaction.

“How about what?”

He grinned. “Cabbage.”

“Ew! Why would you call me that right now?” you exclaimed, scooching back into the window.

“Because you’re adorable. Beautiful.”

“Like a leafy green?”

“Yeah, like a whole salad.”

You laughed. “That makes no sense.”

“It really doesn’t.” But it did. Like so many other inside jokes, you knew exactly what he meant to say. It made you feel all warm inside, especially because there was no trace of subterfuge in his handsome face, and you knew he’d never be cruel enough to lead you on. He followed you, he thought you were beautiful, and he was here trying to convince you not to take the kiss back.

To be bold. To follow through.

“If you want to keep being friends…” he began.

“You and Mike are just friends, Jake. I’m the kid sister with a massively pathetic crush on you.”

“Maybe I have a crush on you too,” he said, looking you straight in the eyes. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little… A lot, actually.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

In front of Pleasant View the driver pulled on the brakes, and Jake laced his fingers through yours as he dismounted and put a twenty in the tip jar, stopping in front of the entrance to face you with a question hanging, unspoken, in the air. If you let this opportunity pass you by, he would let you do it without a word, taking the gentleman’s way out and stopping his pursuit under the assumption that you had no interest in being with him, or in seeing where this new thing between you might go. But if you said yes…

The possibilities flashed through your mind, as frightening as they were wonderful. Everything might change. Everything would, there was no doubt about that. But change wasn’t always a bad thing, and if you had someone holding your hand along the way?

Wasn’t that what love was all about?

“You’re thinking very loudly,” Jake pointed out.

“Is that an issue?”

“Why, is it an issue for you?”

You shook your head, trying to contain the nervous joy in your chest. “Maybe you should take me flying sometime, teach me the ways of classic Hangman chill.”

“Just name the time and place,” he promised. “I’m ready when you are.”

Instead of second guessing, you took him at his word.

You reached up and kissed him fully on the mouth, sighing when he pressed you flush against his chest and carressed the nape of your neck. There was no predicting the future; that part would always be like navigating blind. But Jake was worth the risk. If nothing else, he was the sort of man who made you want to try, who took chances, and made you laugh through the terror of uncertainty.

In that moment, being lifted off the ground, physically swept off your feet by the man you’d loved since you’d first contemplated what love could be, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. And the best part? From the look on Jake’s face, you knew the exact thought running through his head:

Babe, the luck is all mine.

Man, you loved weddings.

#rosie.fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #tgm fic #tgm x reader #top gun maverick x reader #glen powell x reader

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hottiesforhockey · 1 month ago

Text

mutual pining ⎜n.hischier

pairings: nico hischier x afab!midsized!reader genre: romance ⎜fuff ⎜ slow burn? ⎜ warnings: pure cuteness ⎜ nico is literally so sweet ⎜ p in v ⎜ body worship?⎜ slight overstimulation ⎜oral (f receiving) ⎜fingering ⎜ nico is a giver ⎜ reader goes by bee (its a nickname)⎜midsized!reader ⎜ reader is a little insecure sometimes ⎜ mentions of previous shitty ex ⎜ sad nico? ⎜confused reader constantly⎜ apologies in advance for the ending ⎜ synopsis: your sister convinces you to tag along on her trip to Switzerland to visit her long distance boyfriend - you didn't expect his younger brother to be there let alone just your type. word count: 12.6k authors note: this is my first nico story ever and it's a doozy! it was the clear winner of my poll so I hope those of you who voted will enjoy! also just incase you didn't see in the warnings but the reader will go by the nickname bee!(barely) but I tried to keep her descriptions to a minimum

(unedited)

“He said he would be waiting at the baggage claim for us.” You sister says as she glances down at her phone, confirming her statement with the message her boyfriend had sent earlier.

“I still don’t know how you ended up in a long distance relationship with a professional athlete.” You retort, pulling your backpack higher on your shoulders before adding, “Just kind of a wild situation, you know.” You sister just nods in agreement, having stated herself how strange the relationship had come about.

“What can I say? I must just be that addictive.” She coos, at you, her face lighting up as the doors to the baggage claim slide open. She leaves you in the dust as she rushes forwards dropping her bag before leaping into the arms of her admittedly much larger boyfriend, who looks equally as excited to see her - whispering in her ear as she digs her face into his shoulder.

Your sister had met the Swiss Hockey Player while on a short vacation around Europe stopping in Switzerland for about a week before planning to move on to Italy - she had called you the night she met the large Swiss man already head over heels for the charming brunette after one, slightly tipsy, night together.

And as it stands the large Swiss man was equally as obsessed with her - the two immediately starting a long distance relationship after spending another week together in Italy, where he had followed her refusing to let their time together finish so soon.

Judging by the goo goo eyes they are already making at each other it was going to be a long three weeks.

“Hurry up.” You sister shouts as you dawdle over to the couple, trying to give them some time out of earshot to greet each other properly. “Luca, this is my little sister, Bee.” You sister introduces you quickly, Luca turning to you with a beaming smile, and a friendly hand extended.

“Nice to meet you, Luca.” You say quietly as you join your hands giving it a firm shake before letting your hand fall back to your side. “Sorry I’m not as energetic as Mia but it’s been a long trip.” You laugh softly, pushing some loose hair off your forehead before shooting your sister a look.

“Oh yes, we better get you two back to the house.” Luca says quickly, his hand firm on your sisters waist as he guides her to the baggage carousel. “Just let us know which bags are yours.” Luca says quietly, leaning over your sister to make sure you heard him.

“Us?” You question in confusion.

“My little brother Nico is staying with us too.” Luca notes casually, your eyes shooting over to your sister who’s already mouthing a silent apology. When you had agreed to come on this trip, your sister had promised it would mainly be you and her and the beautiful summer mountains of Switzerland - it wasn’t until two days ago that she informed you, you would be staying with her boyfriend.

You had no issues with your sister wanting to spend some time with her boyfriend who she hadn’t seen in months but the idea of forced socialisation was not high on your vacation wishlist - and now another stranger would be thrown into the mix. “Suck it up.” Your sister hisses through her teeth as she leans towards you. “Nico is really nice, I think you two will get along.” She adds, motioning her head to the broad brunette now standing besides her boyfriend.

“Nico this is Mia’s little sister, the one I was telling you about.” Luca says quickly, his hand guiding his brothers attention in your direction. You don’t miss the pointed look Luca gives his brother, his reminder obviously sparking something inside Nico who quickly turns his full attention to you - his big brown eyes stealing every thought you’d ever had in your life.

You give Nico a quick nod of acknowledgment before spotting your baby blue suitcase coming around the corner, avoiding anymore stunted silence by moving forwards to grab hold of it. “Here, let me get that for you.” Nico says softly as he follows behind you, grabbing hold of the suitcase before you can, pulling it off the carousel with ease. “Which one is your sisters?” He asks, not looking away from the baggage as you point out the soft pink suitcase following closely behind yours.

Nico does the same for your sister’s bag, gently pulling it from the track and setting it beside yours. As you reach out to take your suitcase back, Nico pulls it just out of reach, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry.” He says with a playful grin. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, right?”

You can’t help but smile at the teasing tone, though inwardly, you curse your body’s reaction to men you barely know. “I guess so,” you reply, trying to sound casual as you meet his gaze.

Luca and Mia are already a few steps ahead, engaged in a quiet conversation. Nico is right beside you now, still holding your suitcase with an effortless air, as though it’s no more than a feather in his large hands.

“So,” you start, trying to fill the awkward space with something, “What’s it like being a professional hockey player?” The question feels a bit dull, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. You remember your sister mentioning how despite Luca being a professional Swiss hockey player the families true pride was in the youngest, Nico, being selected to play in the NHL.

“It’s not all glitz and glamour,” Nico replies with a casual shrug, his voice easy and unbothered. “Early mornings, long practices, and constant travel. It’s hard being away from home, but hockey’s my life. I wouldn’t trade it.”

You nod, impressed by how down-to-earth he is despite his career. It’s a side of athletes you don’t often see on TV.

“That sounds… challenging.”

“Yeah, but the game is worth it,” he says, glancing over at you with a quiet smile. “Plus, there’s always Bern to come back to. The city’s never too far from my mind.” You both walk out into the warm Bern summer afternoon, the sun still high in the sky, the city alive with activity. Luca locates the car quickly - ushering your sister into the passenger seat as he pulls the trunk open, helping his younger brother lift both suitcases inside before shutting it, sliding into the drivers side besides your sister.

Nico’s eyes flicker to you again, his smile widening. “Ladies first.” He comments as he opens the back door for you, watching as you slide into the seat, shuffling across to the far side of the car - Nico joining you shortly after.

The car hums to life, and Nico leans back in his seat, one arm casually resting on the door as the vehicle pulls away from the airport. You settle into the plush interior, your hands neatly folded in your lap, though your mind is anything but calm. The way Nico speaks, his deep voice a contrast to the soft, warm tone, it lingers with you, a subtle undercurrent beneath the otherwise normal conversation happening in the front seats.

Mia is already chatting away with Luca, the two of them laughing about something you didn’t quite catch. You find yourself glancing at Nico once more, his posture relaxed but somehow still commanding in the space of the car.

“Are you excited to be in Switzerland for the summer?” Nico’s voice breaks through your thoughts, and you blink, realising he’s been waiting for you to respond.

“Yeah, I think it’s going to be nice. It’s a lot different than where I’m from, but it’s peaceful, you know?” You hesitate, wondering if he’s even interested in hearing about your home, but Nico’s focused attention encourages you to continue.

“It is a bit of a change,” Nico comments. His voice seems warm, as though he’s trying to put you at ease, despite the subtle tension hanging in the air. “I’ve never been to Australia, but I’ve heard good things.”

“You should visit,” you say before you can stop yourself. You immediately feel a flush creep up your neck, the way his eyes lock with yours making your words feel too forward, too personal.

Nico smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Maybe someday.” He seems to be considering it, and something in your chest tightens, like an unspoken promise hanging in the air between you.

Mia and Luca continue their conversation in the front seats, but you’re no longer focused on them. Nico is still looking at you, his gaze soft, as though he’s waiting for you to say something more, something deeper. But what could you possibly say to someone like him?

“You and Mia seem... close,” you finally say, choosing something safe, but it’s enough to break the tension.

Nico’s smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something that makes you feel like you’ve just scratched the surface of who he is. “Yeah, she’s like a sister to me. We hung out a lot last time she came to see Luca,” he says, laughing softly. “She’s just... a force of nature. I know she’s happy with Luca, though, and that’s all that matters.”

You nod, feeling a little more at ease now that the conversation is off of you. The drive continues for a few minutes in silence, save for the soft hum of the car and the occasional laugh from the front seats. You can’t help but steal glances at Nico every now and then, though, wondering what else lies beneath that easygoing exterior of his.

The city of Bern slowly gives way to the lush, green landscapes of the countryside, the picturesque mountains rising in the distance. Your thoughts keep drifting back to Nico’s calm demeanour, his gentle teasing, and that fleeting moment when it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

The car takes a turn off the main road, winding through smaller paths that lead to a beautiful chalet nestled among towering trees. The house looks like something out of a magazine—modern yet rustic, with wide glass windows framing the serene mountain view. You’re just about to comment on how stunning it is when Nico speaks again, breaking your thoughts.

“You’ll like it here,” he says, his voice quieter now, more assured. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

The words are simple, but they carry an unspoken weight that makes you feel, for a moment, like you’ve been let in on a secret. You give him a small smile, unsure of how to respond to that, but grateful for his reassurance.

Luca parks the car in front of the house, turning off the engine. He leans back in his seat, glancing at the two of you in the back. “Well, welcome to Bern,” he says with a grin. “Let’s get inside before the jet lag hits you two.”

Mia opens her door first, quickly followed by Luca. Nico hesitates for a moment before stepping out of the car and rushing around to the other side of the car offering you a hand, which you take gratefully, feeling the weight of his hand in yours for a second longer than necessary.

“You head inside, look around - I’ll grab your bags.” Nico says his voice quieter as he slowly pulls his hand away from yours, his other hand holding the car door open as you slip further away from the car. You hesitate for a moment, Nico nodding for you to go ahead, your feet not wasting any more time in following after the couple who just went inside - hoping to god you find a bed soon.

“You can sleep in here, there is a bathroom through that door and a closet if you want to unpack anything - we’ll be just down the hall and Nico’s room is right across there.” Your sister explains pointing in different directions as she goes, her eyebrows raising briefly as she points to the door to Nico’s room.

“Don’t even start with that.” You sneer, your sister throwing her hands up in defence.

“I’m just saying he’s not a bad dude, and after what happened with Joh—”

“Don’t please.”

“He’s a good guy, Bee. Give him a shot to worm his way into that cold dead heart of yours.” Your sister continues, ignoring the glare you send her way, patting your head lightly before making her way down the hall to her shared bedroom with Luca, the door closing softly behind her.

You let out a long sigh, pinching your nose before retreating into the bedroom - closing the door behind you before flopping onto the mattress, melting into the plush blankets as sleep overwhelms you.

The room is bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun when you finally stir, a sense of disorientation tugging at you. For a moment, you forget where you are—the unfamiliar warmth of the air, the faint hum of nature outside, and the plush comfort of the bed beneath you all feel dreamlike. It isn’t until you turn your head and notice the neatly folded blanket draped over you that the pieces begin to fall into place.

Sitting up slowly, you glance around the room. Your suitcase sits neatly in the corner, its zipper slightly ajar as if someone had checked to ensure it made the journey unscathed. The thought pulls a soft smile to your lips; you already have a suspicion about who might have taken the time to do that.

Stretching out, you catch the faint sound of laughter drifting through the open window, voices carrying from somewhere outside. Curious, you pad over to the window, pushing aside the sheer curtain to peer out. Below, you spot Mia and Luca sitting on the edge of the deck, their legs dangling over the side as they sip what looks like glasses of wine. Nico is standing a few feet away from them, leaning casually against the railing with a beer in hand, his posture as relaxed as ever. You watch as he says something to your sister - her head nodding before he turns to make his way back into the house, your steps leading you over to your bed to refold the blanket and place it at the end of the bed where it was when you arrived.

A gentle knock on the door pulls your attention away, and you turn just in time to see it crack open. Nico's head appears, his dark eyes meeting yours with a soft, apologetic smile.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you," he says quietly. "Mia said you might still be out, but I wanted to check if you’re hungry. Dinner’s ready if you want to join us."You hesitate, still shaking off the remnants of sleep, but there’s something in his tone—gentle, patient—that makes you nod.

"Yeah, give me a minute," you say, your voice still a little groggy.

Nico steps back, nodding. "Take your time. We’re on the back deck."

As the door clicks shut, you take a deep breath, smoothing down your hair and glancing in the mirror. The sleep lines on your face are a stark reminder of how exhausted you were, but there’s no undoing that now. Besides, the promise of food—and maybe a little fresh air—sounds too good to pass up.

When you finally step outside onto the patio, the warm, golden light of the sunset greets you, casting long shadows over the wooden floorboards. The air is cool but pleasant, carrying the scent of pine and something delicious wafting from the small grill set up nearby.

"There she is!" Mia beams, waving you over enthusiastically. "Thought we’d lost you to the jet lag forever."

"Almost," you admit with a sheepish grin, taking a seat at the table where a spread of grilled vegetables, fresh bread, and what looks like marinated chicken is waiting. Nico moves to set another plate down in front of you, his movements quiet but purposeful.

"Hope you like simple meals," he says as he straightens up, his expression unreadable but not unkind.

"Looks amazing," you reply, meaning it. The sight of the food is enough to make your stomach rumble audibly, earning a laugh from Mia. Dinner is lively, Mia and Luca carrying most of the conversation with stories and jokes, their chemistry palpable. Nico chimes in every so often, his dry humor catching you off guard but making you laugh nonetheless. You find yourself stealing glances at him when you think he’s not looking, curious about the subtle shifts in his expressions as he listens to the others.

As the evening deepens, the conversation begins to quiet, the group falling into a comfortable lull. The stars begin to appear overhead, and you find your gaze wandering upward, the beauty of the glowing night sky pulling a soft sigh from your lips.

"Pretty different from the city, huh?" Nico’s voice is quiet, meant just for you. You glance at him, finding his eyes already on you, reflecting the faint light of the stars. For a moment, you forget to breathe, caught off guard by the way he looks at you—steady and intent, like he’s truly seeing you.

"Yeah," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s… peaceful." Nico’s lips curve into a small, thoughtful smile, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze lifting to the stars above.

"You get used to it. But it’s nice, seeing someone appreciate it for the first time." You don’t know what to say to that, so you let the silence settle between you, a strange but not unwelcome tension hanging in the air. It’s not uncomfortable—it’s something else entirely, something you can’t quite name but don’t want to push away. For the first time since you arrived, you feel a flicker of something unexpected—an unfamiliar warmth that has nothing to do with the summer air.

The warmth lingers as the night deepens, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The gentle murmur of crickets rises, filling the silence between the sporadic bursts of conversation around the table. You watch as Luca pours another glass of wine for Mia, his hand brushing hers in a way that seems unconscious yet deliberate. There's something soothing about their easy familiarity, the way they move around each other like pieces of a puzzle that have always fit.

Your gaze drifts back to Nico. He's leaned back in his chair now, one arm draped casually over the backrest, his beer long forgotten on the table. There's an ease to him, but it’s clear he’s observing, soaking in the atmosphere in a way that feels distinctly different from the others. It makes you wonder what he's thinking, what stories he keeps locked behind that quiet demeanor.

"Hey," Mia calls, pulling you out of your thoughts. "We were just saying we should go for a hike tomorrow. There’s a great trail not far from here. You up for it?"

You blink, caught off guard. Hiking wasn’t exactly on your agenda when you arrived, but Mia’s enthusiasm is contagious. Before you can answer, Nico speaks up, his voice calm but firm.

"Let her settle in first. She just got here." He glances at you, his brow lifting slightly as if to gauge your reaction. "You don’t have to feel pressured."

Mia rolls her eyes but laughs. "Fine, fine. You can play tour guide when she’s ready."

You chuckle softly, appreciating the out Nico has given you, even if you don’t take it. "A hike actually sounds nice. Maybe not anything too intense, though."

"Deal," Mia says, grinning. "We’ll start with the easy trail. It’s mostly flat, but the view at the end is worth it."

The conversation shifts again, and you let yourself fade into the background, content to listen. The laughter and camaraderie feel grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos of the life you left behind, if only temporarily. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this relaxed, this… present.

When the gathering finally winds down, Nico is the first to rise, collecting plates and stacking them with quiet efficiency. You stand as well, reaching for the empty glass in front of you, but he shakes his head.

"I’ve got it," he says simply, his tone leaving little room for argument.

"You sure? I don’t mind helping," you offer, unsure why you feel compelled to insist.

He pauses, meeting your gaze again with that same steady look. "I’m sure. Go enjoy the stars while you can."

There’s something in his voice that makes you obey, though you linger just a moment longer, watching as he carries the dishes inside. It’s a small thing, but the gesture feels significant in a way you can’t quite explain.

You step to the edge of the deck, leaning against the railing as your eyes lift to the heavens. The stars are brighter than you remember, each one like a tiny pinprick of light in the velvet sky. It’s breathtaking in its simplicity, the kind of beauty that makes you feel both small and infinite all at once.

Footsteps approach behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Nico returning, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets. He stops a few feet away, his expression wondering.

"Thanks for dinner," you say quietly, feeling the need to fill the space between you. "It was really nice."

He nods, his lips curving into that faint smile again. "Glad you enjoyed it."

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching like a thin thread between you. Then, almost imperceptibly, Nico shifts closer, resting his forearms on the railing beside you. His shoulder brushes yours lightly, and the warmth of the contact sends a faint shiver down your spine.

"You planning to stay out here all night?" he asks, his tone teasing but gentle.

“I guess it is getting a little cold.” You agree, finally pushing yourself off the railing, crossing your arms over your chest as you rub the bare skin - Nico falling into steps besides you as you both climb the small hill towards the house. The silence is comfortable, the two of you sinking into your own thoughts as you make your way up the stairs and to you respective doors, Nico glancing once over his shoulder as he watches you enter your bedroom and slowly close the door, a small smile on his face.

He knew what his brother was doing when he suggest Nico stay in the room opposite yours - and he knew what his brother and your sister were doing by insisting he come spend the summer at the lake house instead of at the family home closer to the city.

And yet a large part of him was thankful for their meddling, cause without them he wouldn’t have met you.

A girl who looks at the stars as if she’d never seen them before.

“Luca said it’s probably a good idea to wearing a bathing suit under your clothes.” You sister says as she swings open your bedroom door, your shirt just being pulled over your head. “He said there’s a small waterfall near the top and it’s nice to go for a swim.” She adds, looking down at your outfit before shaking her head.

“Nope, you can do better then that.” She dismisses, walking over to your suitcase starting to dig around before you even get a chance to respond. “This one is perfect.” She says pulling out the black high cut one piece from your suitcase, throwing it across the room to you.

“What? No, I can’t hike with that on underneath my clothes.” You exclaim, looking at the swim suit in shock, you forgot you even packed that.

“Why not - it’ll make your ass look fantastic.”

“Umm, maybe because it offers no support and it’s essentially a thong.” You respond, turning it around to show her the barely there strip of fabric that was suppose to cover your ass.

“Yeah well not everything is about functionality.” She snorts, insisting you wear it before leaving you to change. You hesitantly pull on the one piece swimsuit, already feeling the fabric riding up your ass, before pulling on your shorts and oversized t-shirt.

“At least I thought to pack hiking boots.” You mumble to yourself as you tighten the shoes on your feet, thankful that you at least could try to avoid some blisters if your sister was determined to give your butt crack a rash. You stomp your way downstairs, glaring at your sister as you watch the two brothers fill two hiking packs with snacks and water - Nico shoving a few towels in a third pack.

“I can take that.” You say quickly, snatching the bag off the counter as he zips it shut - shooting him a smile and turning to follow the couple out of the house before he has any room to argue.

The morning air is crisp and cool as the four of you set off down the dirt path leading away from the house. The forest is alive with the sounds of chirping birds and the distant rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Despite the awkward start to your day, you’re beginning to feel the excitement building. The idea of a hike—complete with a hidden waterfall—feels like the kind of adventure you hadn’t realised you were craving.

Mia and Luca lead the way, their hands brushing occasionally as they walk side by side. You trail behind them with Nico a step or two behind you, his presence quiet but grounding. The pack on your back isn’t meant to be heavy, but you can feel the straps digging in slightly, a reminder of the towels you insisted on carrying.

It’s just towels how the hell does it feel so heavy?

"Sure you don’t want me to take that?" Nico’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s looking at you with a raised eyebrow, his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

"I’ve got it," you insist, your tone light but firm. You’re not about to let him think you can’t handle carrying a simple bag.

He nods, his expression unreadable but faintly amused. "Alright. Just say the word if you change your mind."

The trail begins to incline, the terrain growing rockier as you ascend. Sweat beads on your brow despite the coolness of the morning, and you focus on your footing, determined not to trip over a loose stone or stray root. Mia and Luca are chatting animatedly ahead, their voices carrying back to you in bursts, but you’re too distracted by the strain in your thighs and the increasing awareness of the swimsuit under your clothes to pay attention.

"You okay up there?" Nico’s voice comes again, closer this time. You glance over your shoulder to see him just behind you, his dark eyes scanning you with mild concern.

"Fine," you say quickly, though your breathlessness betrays you. "Just… haven’t done this in a while." He smirks, his pace matching yours effortlessly.

"You’re doing fine. Mia usually drags people up here faster. Guess she’s going easy on you."

You snort softly at that, grateful for the distraction of his dry humor. "I’ll have to thank her later."

The trees begin to thin as you approach a clearing, and the sound of rushing water grows louder, the promise of the waterfall spurring you on. When you finally break through the last of the foliage, the sight takes your breath away. The waterfall cascades down a rocky ledge, its water glistening in the sunlight as it spills into a crystal-clear pool below. The air is cooler here, misting faintly around you as if the scene itself is enchanted.

"Wow," you breathe, pausing at the edge of the clearing.

Mia grins, already kicking off her shoes. "Told you it was worth it!" She turns to Luca, who’s already peeling off his shirt, revealing a tan, athletic frame.

You hesitate, your gaze flicking to the pool and then to Nico, who’s unzipping his pack and pulling out a bottle of water. His movement is efficient, and there’s something about the way his shirt clings to his back that has your mouth going dry. You shake the thought away quickly, reminding yourself to stay focused.

"Well," Mia says, turning to you with a mischievous grin. "Time to test out that swimsuit."

You groan, your cheeks heating as she waves you toward the water. "Don’t make it weird," you mutter, kicking off your boots and socks. You push you shorts down your legs glad for the oversized shirt still covering your ass that’s hanging out, hoping no one’s paying attention as you take a deep breath stripping off your shit down to the swimsuit. The high cut and minimal coverage feeling more scandalous out in the open, and you resist the urge to tug at the fabric as you step to the edge of the pool.

“Wowza my little sister has tits.” You sister whistles from the water, Luca glancing over his shoulder as he shoots you a teasing grin, letting out a low whistle.

“If I wasn’t dating your sister, you’d be top of my list little bee.” He coos, letting out a grunt as your sister slams her elbow into his side. He whispers a soft apology kissing her cheek gently before paddling away from her.

"Looks good," Nico says offhandedly, his tone neutral but enough to make you pause. You glance at him sharply, but he’s already looking away, his focus seemingly on the towels he’s laying out on a flat rock.

Your sister giggles, shooting you a knowing look, but you refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, you take a deep breath and step into the water, the coolness wrapping around your legs and immediately refreshing your overheated skin.

"Cold?" Nico asks as he steps up beside you, his voice low enough that Mia and Luca don’t hear.

"A little," you admit, glancing at him. He smirks again, his eyes glinting with amusement, raking slowly down your body before snapping up to your face, his expression now stone cold as he takes another step towards the water.

"You’ll get used to it." And with that, he wades in farther, the water lapping at his waist before he ducks under completely. When he surfaces, his hair slicked back and water streaming down his face, you feel your breath catch—not from the cold, but from the way he seems utterly at ease, like he belongs here.

You shake the thought away, diving in after him. The water envelopes you, cool and invigorating, and when you resurface, you feel lighter—freer.

“Want to climb up there?” Mia’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to find her pointing to a ledge halfway up the waterfall. You squint at the spot, the cascading water making it look more slippery than inviting.

“What, so I can slip and break my neck?”

“No, so you can jump off!” Mia exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “It’s not that high, and the pool’s deep enough. Luca’s done it a million times.” Luca, now fully sprawled on his precarious rock, overhears and shoots a thumbs-up.

“Highly recommend! Best adrenaline rush you’ll get around here.”

You hesitate, glancing toward Nico as if for a second opinion. He doesn’t say anything, but the faintest hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t look at him,” Mia chides, grabbing your arm. “You’re doing this.”

With no room to argue, you let her drag you toward the rocks along the edge of the pool. The climb isn’t as treacherous as it first seemed, though your heart pounds with each step closer to the top. When you finally reach the ledge, the view takes your breath away—a panoramic glimpse of the forest stretching out beyond the pool below, sunlight glinting off the water’s surface like diamonds.

“Okay, now just jump!” Mia says, beaming as if this is the simplest thing in the world. You glance down, your stomach flipping at the height. It’s not exactly terrifying, but it’s far enough to make you hesitate. “What if I land wrong?”

“You won’t,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Just aim for the middle and tuck your legs if you’re scared. Easy.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, peering over the edge again. From below, Luca hollers encouragement, and Nico’s gaze is locked on you, calm and steady.

“You’ve got this,” Nico calls, his voice cutting through the rush of the falls. It’s not loud, but it carries enough conviction to steady your nerves.

Taking a deep breath, you step to the edge and count silently. One, two—

And then you leap.

The fall is exhilarating, a brief moment of weightlessness that sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins. The water greets you with a cool, refreshing embrace, and when you resurface, the sheer thrill of it has you laughing out loud. Mia cheers from the ledge above before cannonballing in after you, her splash sending ripples through the pool. Luca hoots his approval, and even Nico offers a nod of acknowledgment as you float on the surface, still grinning.

“See? Told you it was worth it,” Mia says, shaking water from her hair as she paddles closer.

“Okay, you were right,” you admit, your heart still racing. “But I’m never doing that again.”

“Liar,” she shoots back with a wink.

You glance at Nico, who’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—something between amusement and quiet admiration. For a moment, the world feels smaller, quieter, the sounds of laughter and rushing water fading into the background.

And then, just as quickly, he breaks eye contact, slipping back into the water and disappearing beneath the surface. You watch the water where he disappeared, waiting for him to pop back up with no luck - is he aqua man how is he holding his breath for so long?

You tread water, watching as Luca and Mia exit the water, setting up camp on two towels right under the sun, a harsh tug on your ankle ripping a squeal from your as you’re pulled under the water. Firm hands land on your waist as Nico hauls you back to the surface, his laugh echoing in the space as you both surface, his dimples digging into his cheeks as you swat at his chest.

“Not funny, Nico.” You hiss, frowning at him as he lets out another round of laughter, the sound so unlike anything you’d heard from him before - sounding so similar to that of a giggle then the manly voice that usually escapes him.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He apologises quickly adding, “It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.” His hands are still firm on your waist as his laughter dies away his expression serious for a moment as he leans in whispering softly.

“They’re right you know.” He says, his gaze flicking to your siblings before back to you, “the swimsuit looks incredible on you.” Nico leaves you sputtering his hands gently grazing down to your hips before releasing you, and making the short swim back to shore, your brain taking a moment to catch up before you swim after him.

You follow Nico back to the shore, your heart pounding—not just from the exertion of swimming but from the lingering sensation of his hands on your waist and the low timbre of his voice. Did he really just say that? Your cheeks burn as you replay his words, and you’re grateful for the water concealing any hint of your flustered state.

Mia and Luca are sprawled on their towels, already engrossed in some lighthearted argument about what to cook for dinner. Nico grabs another towel from the pile, running it over his hair before draping it around his neck. He doesn’t glance your way, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he knows exactly what kind of chaos he’s left in his wake.

You sit down on your own towel, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the horizon as you attempt to gather your thoughts. The warmth of the sun on your skin and the gentle rustle of the forest around you should be calming, but your mind is spinning.

What did he mean by that? Was he teasing, or…?

Mia interrupts your internal spiral by nudging you with her foot. "So, when’s the next jump?" she teases, her grin wide and mischievous.

"Never," you reply quickly, grabbing the towel and wrapping it tighter around yourself. “I’m retiring from cliff diving.”

“Sure you are,” Luca says with a laugh, tossing a granola bar your way. “You’ll be back up there before the day’s over.”

You roll your eyes but catch the granola bar, peeling it open and taking a bite as you sneak a glance at Nico. He’s leaning back on his elbows now, his gaze fixed on the sky as if he hasn’t a care in the world.

As the sun begins to dip lower, painting the clearing in hues of gold and orange, the group starts packing up to head home. Nico’s quiet for most of the walk back, but you can feel his presence behind you, steady and grounding. Every now and then, you catch him glancing your way, his expression unreadable but leaving you wondering what’s going on in his head.

When you finally reach the house, the familiar smell of fresh air and pine clinging to your skin, you’re met with a new challenge: pretending everything is normal. Mia and Luca immediately collapse onto the couch, talking animatedly about their plans to make pasta for dinner. You excuse yourself, heading upstairs for a much-needed shower.

Under the hot water, you replay the day’s events—the jump, the laughter, the way Nico looked at you. His words echo in your mind, and you find yourself smiling despite your confusion. By the time you finish and step out of the bathroom, you’ve convinced yourself it was all just playful teasing.

But when you head back downstairs, Nico’s the first to look up from his spot at the kitchen counter. His gaze locks on yours for a heartbeat longer than it should, and the faintest smile tugs at his lips.

Maybe it wasn’t teasing after all.

Two weeks moved by quickly - your days often starting with a hearty home cooked breakfast and lounging by the lake - more often then not your time spent sprawled on a beach towel, watching your sister and her boyfriend fall deeper in love with each other. Luca had pulled you aside early on Sunday morning, your final week in Switzerland quickly approaching.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, really quickly.” He says quietly, his gaze shooting over to your sister who is sprawled across the couch, fast asleep. You nod, letting Luca lead the way out of the house, his eyes glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one follows you out of the house. When you reach a spot a safe distance away Luca finally stops, taking in a deep breath before blurting out.

“I want to marry your sister.”

Your breath catches for a moment, not out of shock but at the suddenness of his confession. Luca's face is flushed, his usually calm and collected demeanour replaced by an almost boyish nervousness. He quickly continues, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if afraid you'd interrupt.

"I know it might seem fast, and I get that. But I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. She’s… she’s everything to me. And I wanted to come to you first because I respect you, and I know how close you two are."

He shifts his weight, running a hand through his hair, his usual confidence wavering. "I’ve been carrying the ring around for weeks, waiting for the right moment. But I need to know you’re okay with it. That we have your blessing too."

You’re silent for a beat, the gravity of his words settling over you. It’s not as though you hadn’t noticed the way Luca looked at your sister—like she was the sun and he’d never tire of basking in her warmth. But hearing his intentions laid out so plainly catches you off guard.

"What if I said no?" you ask, your tone light, testing.

Luca’s eyes widen slightly, but to his credit, he doesn’t falter. "Then I’d keep trying. I’d keep proving myself until you saw what I see. But I hope you won’t say no."

A small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. His sincerity is disarming, and as much as the thought of your sister marrying someone might make you protective, you can’t deny the truth in his words. They’re good together—good for each other.

"You’re sure about this?" you ask, tilting your head. "Because it’s not just about loving her, you know. It’s about being patient when she’s stubborn, supporting her when she’s feeling lost, and—"

"—And reminding her every day how incredible she is," Luca finishes, his voice steady now. "Yes. I’m sure."

For a moment, you study him, searching for any cracks in his resolve. But there are none. What you find instead is a man who loves your sister with his whole heart. And in that moment, you know you can’t deny him.

"Alright," you finally say, crossing your arms with a small smirk. "But if you ever hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me."

Luca exhales, relief washing over his features, and he nods earnestly. "Deal."

The two of you start walking back to the house, the tension from earlier replaced with an easy camaraderie. As you step onto the porch, Luca pauses, looking at you one last time.

“Thank you," he says softly. "It means a lot."

You nod, glancing toward the window where your sister is still asleep, oblivious to the conversation that just took place. "Just make her happy, Luca. That’s all I ask." Luca nods once with determination, turning back to you quickly with an apologetic look on his face.

“Um, there’s a chance we might not be home tonight.” He warns, a wide eyed look on your face as he bounds up the stairs, the small square box more obvious in his pant pocket as he walks.

“I take it he finally told you?” Nico’s voice makes you jump, his body radiating heat as he steps up besides you, a small smile on his face as he looks up to where his brother just disappeared.

“You knew?”

“I knew since the first time he told me about her.” Nico admits, his smile growing as the memory of his brothers immediate infatuation hits him. “I guess it’s just you and I tonight then.” He adds, his grin changing from soft to teasing, his eyes dropping to yours for a moment before glancing back up the stairs.

“I suppose I better make it worth your while.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans forwards, his breath ghosting over your lips - his finger tip ever so gently pushing a piece of hair away from your face.

Your heart skips a beat as Nico's words hang in the air, the playful glint in his eyes offset by the way his gaze lingers on you, filled with something deeper. You’re caught between his closeness and the sudden intimacy of the moment, unsure whether to lean into it or laugh it off.

Before you can decide, the front door creaks open behind you, and both of you instinctively step apart. The interruption feels jarring, pulling you back to reality. It’s just the wind, you realize, but the moment has shifted.

Nico chuckles softly, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry, I couldn’t help myself," he murmurs, though there’s no real regret in his voice. Instead, there’s a teasing warmth, a sense of waiting to see how you’ll respond.

You give him a playful nudge, breaking the tension with a small laugh. "Smooth, Hischier."

Nico grins, his dimples on full display, and the sight makes your stomach flip. Turning back toward the house before he can see the blush creeping up your neck. "I’m not as easy to impress as my sister, you’ll have to work hard to gain my favour."

"Challenge accepted," Nico calls after you, his laughter chasing you through the house.

The evening comes quietly, the house settling into a tranquil lull without Luca and your sister around. True to his word, Nico sticks by your side, his easy humour keeping the night light as the two of you make dinner together.

You find yourself watching him as he moves around the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, his focus shifting between the chopping board and the stovetop. There’s a comfort in his presence, an ease that you hadn’t realised you’d grown to enjoy over the past two weeks.

At some point, Nico catches you staring, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "What?" he asks, his voice soft but curious.

"Nothing," you say quickly, looking away, but the warmth in his gaze makes it hard to hide your smile.

Later, after the dishes are cleared and the sun has set, the two of you find yourselves on the couch , a bottle of wine between you. All the windows in the house are open, the cooling breeze just barely easing the burning in your skin, Nico’s gaze heating you up from the inside.

"You know," Nico begins, breaking the silence, "I think this is the first time I’ve had my brother to thank for something like this."

"Like what?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He tilts his head toward you, his expression soft but intent. "For meeting you."

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. But as you meet his gaze, the guarded part of your heart begins to crack, just a little, under the weight of his honesty.

"I guess I’ll have to thank him too," you say softly, and Nico’s smile grows, quiet and full of promise.

The stars above seem impossibly bright outside, their reflection on the lake shimmering like liquid silver in the quiet night. The air feels thick with unspoken words, the kind that settle into comfortable silence but beg to be released. You steal a glance at Nico, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the low lights in the house. His eyes are fixed on the lake, but there’s something contemplative about his expression, like he’s wrestling with whether to speak.

Finally, he turns to you, his voice low, intimate. "You ever have one of those moments where you feel like everything’s exactly as it’s meant to be?"

His question catches you off guard, but the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the answer to that very thought—leaves you breathless.

"Maybe," you reply, your voice just above a whisper. "I think I’m starting to understand what that feels like."

Nico’s lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that’s both tender and sure. He leans a little closer, his elbows resting on his knees as his gaze stays locked on yours.

"Good," he says simply, his voice carrying more meaning than the single word could hold.

"You don’t make this easy, you know," he murmurs, his thumb tracing gentle circles along the front of your thigh.

"Don’t make what easy?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly, though you already know the answer.

"Not wanting to kiss you," he admits, his tone both teasing and earnest. His words send a jolt through you, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of everything: the warmth of his hand, the faint scent of cologne clinging to him, the way his breath hitches slightly as he waits for your response.

"You don’t have to not want to," you say, barely recognising your own voice. It’s an invitation, one he doesn’t hesitate to accept.

Nico leans in slowly, his free hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his touch featherlight as if he’s afraid to break the moment. His big brown eyes search yours one last time, giving you the chance to pull away.

But you don’t.

Instead, you lean in too, meeting him halfway.

When his lips finally press against yours, it’s soft, tentative at first, as though he’s savouring the moment. But as you respond, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping his shirt and pulling him closer towards you, his kiss deepens, growing more confident, more certain. There’s a warmth in it, a mix of passion and tenderness that leaves you dizzy, the world around you fading until it’s just the two of you.

When you break apart, your chests are heaving the two of your looking at each other for a moment, Nico’s hands finding purchase on the back of your thighs, lifting them to manoeuvre you more comfortably on the couch, your back leaning against the arm rest, your legs bent at the knees, falling open slightly to make room for Nico’s broad build.

Nico takes the invitation, slipping into the gap between your legs before lowering his mouth back to yours, your hands lifting to cup his jaw as his hand sit firmly against the back of your thighs, lifting them to circle around his waist, as his mouth leaves yours, his lips finding the tender curve of your jaw, just below the ear, his kisses firmer on the underside of your jaw.

“Nico?” You speak in a whisper, Nico humming his response against your skin, his lips never stopping their movements. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.” You add, your hands dropping to his shoulders, digging into his corded muscles as he sucks a particularly sensitive spot.

“You want me to stop?” He asks, pulling his face away from your neck to look down at you, his brows furrowed in concern, his eyes trying to read yours.

“No, I just…” You start, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you fumble for what to say.

“You’re overthinking it.” Nico guesses, his head nodding quickly as he begins to understand the situation. “Come.” He says, pulling himself off the lounger, your brain having to fight your body to let him go. He offers you hand to help you stand, watching as your adjust your shorts and run your fingers through your hair.

“Where are we going?” You ask, as Nico keeps his hand in yours slowly guiding you towards the stairs.

“To my room.” He explains, sending you a reassuring smile as he adds, “Do all the thinking you want, but if you step through the door with me then you need to turn your brain off.” He walks slowly up the stairs, his fingers still locked with yours as you trail behind him, your mind racing at a million miles an hours as the two of your silently make you way to his bedroom, stopping just outside the closed door.

Nico pauses, his eyes locked with yours as he watches you for a moment. He always thought you were so hard to read - keeping yourself closed off from most of the world, but right now, in this moment Nico can see everything.

“Let me take care of you, Schatz.” He whispers, the term on endearment slipping off his tongue with no concern in the world. The term something you had heard his older brother call your sister countless times. The playful ease was gone from Nico’s face, his expression only holding a soft patience, his eyes refusing to break contact with yours.

“Okay.” You nod softly, eye contact never breaking as Nico turns the door handle the door swinging open, the large man taking a few steps inside before pausing to wait.

You pause at the threshold, your fingers still curled around Nico’s, your heart thundering in your chest. The room beyond feels impossibly intimate, softly lit by a single lamp on the nightstand. The air carries the faint scent of his cologne, mingled with the warmth of the day that still lingers in the walls.

Nico doesn’t rush you. He stands just inside, his gaze steady, his patience unwavering. His thumb brushes lightly against the back of your hand, a gentle anchor in the storm of your thoughts.

"You don’t have to," he murmurs, his voice low and careful. "But if you do… I promise I’ll take care of you. No pressure. No expectations."

There’s something disarming in his honesty, in the way he’s offering you the choice without pushing for a particular outcome. It makes your chest ache, that guarded part of you cracking just a little more.

You take a step forward, your breath hitching as you cross the threshold. The door clicks softly shut behind you, the sound somehow final and freeing all at once. Nico lets go of your hand only to reach up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch lingers, his palm warm against your cheek.

"You’re sure?" he asks, his gaze searching yours one last time.

Instead of answering, you close the distance between you, rising on your toes to kiss him. It’s slower this time, deliberate, your hands settling on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. Nico exhales softly against your lips, his arms circling your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

When the kiss breaks, you’re breathless, your forehead resting against his as you try to steady yourself. His hands trail down your back, stopping at the curve of your hips.

“Follow my lead,” he murmurs, guiding you toward the bed. He sits first, his legs spreading slightly as he pulls you between them. His hands find your waist again, holding you steady as he looks up at you, his expression open and full of unspoken promises.

You settle into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands tentatively tracing the line of his jaw. His stubble is rough beneath your fingertips, a grounding contrast to the tenderness in his eyes.

Nico tilts his head, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm before placing it over his heart. "Whatever you need, however far you want to go—just tell me."

The weight of his sincerity leaves you speechless for a moment. You nod, unable to do much else, and Nico smiles, that same soft, patient curve of his lips that always seems to put you at ease. "Good," he says, his voice a soothing rumble. "Now, let’s take this one moment at a time." And as his lips find yours again, slow and steady, you let yourself sink into the moment, the rest of the world falling away.

All of Nico’s movements are slow and purposeful, his large hands smoothing down from your hips and under the hem of your shorts, grabbing fistfuls of your ass, a grin growing on his face as your grind forwards against his lap. Nico rolls the two of you your back landing against the mattress with a bounce as he rolls on top of you, his hands teasing the edges of your panties before he pulls them away.

“I think your ass is the best thing I’ve ever touched in my life.” Nico mumbles, his pupils blown as he sits back on his knees, his hands smoothing up the front of your thighs, watching as you gasp a little and his hands dip underneath your shirt, tracing the underwire of your bra. “But all I can think about is getting a taste of you.” His voice is gravely, a devilish grin on his face as his hands make their way back down to the waist band of your pants.

“Wait.” You cut in, your hands gripping his wrists as his hands pause their movements on your shorts, his eyes shooting up to yours in concern, a raised brow as he waits for you to explain. “I’ve just never…” You start hesitating as you realise how stupid you’re about to sound.

Nico reels back a little in surprise, his brows pinching in a frown as he thinks for a moment before spitting out, “But you’ve had a boyfriend, no?” He seems to reconsider his words for a moment before adding, “Mia told me you’ve dated before.”

“I’ve had a boyfriend.” You explain, “But he never saw the importance of…that.” You try to get out the words but they seem stuck in your throat, your head nodding down to where Nico has his hands as if that will explain everything.

“Well then he sounds like a bad boyfriend.” Nico cuts in, his smile back on his face as he slowly inches your shorts down, both of you silent as he slips them down and off your legs, throwing them to the side. “This.” He says giving you a pointed look, “Is the bare minimum.” Nico slowly shuffles back on the mattress until he has no choice but to lift himself up and onto the floor, perching on his knees as he reaches for your thighs again.

His grip is firm on your legs, his hands splayed against the plush flesh as he shoots you a quick smirk before tugging your roughly down the bed, until your throbbing cunt is level with his face. “I want to hear every pretty sound that I can pull out of you.” Nico warns, his fingers looping over the sides of your panties before pulling them off as well.

“I want you to do whatever feels right…” He looks up at your in anticipation, as you lift yourself onto your elbows, watching as he places soft kisses against the inside of your thighs, “Mainly I want you to feel good, so use your words.” He gives you one more look, your head nodding at his instructions as he leans forwards.

The first swipe of his hot tongue has your arms collapsing out from under you, your back hitting the mattress roughly as you feel Nico smile against you, going in for more. Nico’s tongue works wonders with long slow swipes against you, his arms looping around your thighs to hold them steady, his grin never leaving his face as you let out a soft moan, your hands leaving the mattress to tangle in his long locks.

It’s when his mouth closes over you, sucking that your back arches off the bed. “Holy shit.” You whine, your fingers tugging lightly on Nico’s hair, a rough grunt leaving him as his efforts double. You can feel his muscles straining as your hips buck against his face, his arms still holding you in place as his fingers tickle soft circles against your skin.

“Nico, please.” You cry, yours hips bucking again as you feel your pleasure climb. How you’d never experience something like this before was insane to you.

“Nico what?” He asks, leaving your wet pussy for a moment while he waits for you to respond, his stubble scraping up the inside of your thighs as he catches his breath, your hand still tangled in his hair.

“Fingers.” You pant, “Please use your fingers.” You beg, Nico kissing your thigh once more before diving back in, one of his hands leaving it’s spot against your thigh, slowly dipping to your entrance, gathering a mixture of spit and arousal before plunging inside you, your hands releasing Nico’s hair in favour of gripping the bed sheets.

“Fuck, Nico.” You curse, letting out a harsh pant before adding. “Another one.” Nico happily obliges, his second finger joining the party as his rubs them against the soft spots inside of you. Nico lifts his face away from you, his fingers doing all the works as he takes you in.

You hands tangled in the sheets, grounding you for dear life as his fingers pump in and out of you. Soft whimpers leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lower lip, your eyes squeezed shut as tight as they can go, your cunt squeezing his fingers desperately trying to keep them inside.

“I’m so close.” You hiss, the feeling borderline painful as you try to hold on.

“I know, Shatz.” He whispers, his hot breath caressing over your wetness, “Just relax into it.” He whispers before his mouth descends on you again, your orgasm ripped from you, as your legs shiver besides his head, trying their hardest to squeeze shut around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You swear, as Nico pulls his fingers from you, his tongue not finished as you try to wiggle your pelvis away from his face.

“No.” Nico growls, his hands moving faster then you can, gripping your thighs and pulling you straight back to him, his tongue lapping up every drop until he’s certain he didn’t miss anything. Nico’s grip on you loosens as he feels your body relax, almost melting into the mattress. “Good girl.” He coos as he dips his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean before climbing back onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.

“Was it too much?” He asks softly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your lips, your eyes finally popping open, the colour in your eyes almost completely disappearing behind your dilated pupils. Nico’s breath catches, your eyes shining like the night when you first saw the stars.

Nico knew then that he was a goner.

“I want more.” Your voice is quiet, almost ashamed of the request but you can feel the flutter in your chest as Nico nods with determination, pushing himself off the bed once more as he starts to strip himself of his clothes.

“Shirt off.” He says quickly to you, your mouth falling open at his authoritative tone, “I want to see all of you.” He adds as he notices your hesitation, your throat bobbing as you lift yourself into a sitting position to pull of your shirt, throwing it to join the rest of the pile on the floor, your hands reaching behind you to release the clasp on your bra. You cross an arm over your chest as you drop the bra to the floor, your hand only dropping once you see the scolding in Nico’s eyes.

“Fuck me.” It’s Nico’s turn to curse as he takes you in. “Stay right there, I need to commit this to memory.” He groans as his eyes skim over every inch of your body, your skin flushing as you watch him take you in.

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers to himself, palming himself through his boxers to release some of the tension. “I’ve never been with anyone like you.” He admits, your eyes rolling as he finally strips himself of his underwear, his rock hard cock springing free, he leans forwards sliding open a bedside table drawer, pulling out a foil package.

“Yeah, you’ve only ever been with perfect model types.” You laugh, watching as Nico rips open the package, slowly rolling the condom onto his dick before climbing onto the mattress, sitting with his back against the headboard. “Typical NHL player.” You joke, your laugh faltering as you notice Nico’s continued expression of awe.

“You are perfection.” He cuts through your silence, his hand reaching out for you to join him. “You are like a gift from Aphrodite.” He adds, your heart thumping heavier at his praise.

Nico watches you climb on top of him, your thighs straddling his, your hands bracing against his shoulders. Nico tilts his head back against the headboard wanting to be able to look directly into your eyes as often as he can.

He looks at you like you’ve hung to moon, because in his opinion — you have.

Nico watches - like he always does - as you softly grab hold of his cock, pumping it a few time, a soft hiss of air escaping him as you line him up with your cunt. Nico’s patient as you slide down him, pausing to adjust every few moments until your sitting comfortably in his lap - your pussy fuller then it’s ever been.

Everything is in your control.

Everything revolves around you.

Nico’s head falls into the crook of your neck, soft curses leaving him as his arms wrap around you tightly, pulling your body against his, your hips slowly rolling forwards and back, forwards and back.

“You’re a goddess.” He whispers against your skin, his arms holding you steady as your movements speed up, a soft creak of the bed filling the room.

“I would give you anything and everything.” He continues, the words almost falling out of him like a prayer, as he presses featherlight kisses against your bare skin, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest. You let out a whine as he bucks his hips to meet your movements.

He lifts one thumb to his mouth, briefly dipping it inside before dropping it your where your hips meet, his thumb slowly putting pressure on your throbbing clit - rubbing in soft circles. He can’t help but smile as your hips stutter and your pussy clenches around his cock, the signs of your incoming orgasm relieving him as the feeling builds in the pit of his stomach.

The two of you finish one after the other, Nico coming first with a curse his hands gripping your hips to keep them moving as he feels your orgasm wash over you, your body almost collapsing against him as you let him continue to guide your hips, riding both of you through the orgasms.

Nico finally lets your hips go, your movements stopping as you both take in deep breaths of air - the room silent other than your breathing.

“I think you’ve ruined me.” Nico whispers against your skin, placing one more kiss to your shoulder before pulling his head away from you, his hands raising to push your hair out of your face as he helps you sit back up, your eyes dazed as you look down at him.

“Ditto.” Is all you manage out, a soft chuckle leaving you as you try to pull yourself away from Nico, his dick sliding out of you at an excruciating place. “Do you have a shower in here by any chance?” You question as you finally make it off the bed, the sticky, sweaty feeling finally hitting you.

Nico nods quickly, shuffling off the bed to walk around you, grabbing a towel from his closet and showing you into the bathroom, your arms covering your chest as he turns the shower to a mildly scalding temperature for you. “I’ll wait outside.” He says quickly, making his way to the door before hesitating.

He turns back around, stepping forwards to pull you in for one more breath stealing kiss, his smile lighting up his face as he mumbles a quick “sorry,” before leaving you alone in the bathroom, your legs shaking from everything that had happened.

The two of you ended up tangled together in Nico’s bed - the man having the decency to change his sheets before almost begging you to join him - his arms opened wide and inviting as you step out of the bathroom - his shirt hanging over the foot of the bed in offering of some modesty.

“I really really like you.” Nico whispers against your hair as he wraps his arms around your middle, pulling your back tight against his chest, his breathing lulling you both to sleep, your bodies both depleted.

It isn’t lost on Nico that you don’t respond, but he can feel the way your fingers squeeze his and he knows, you feel the same too.

The early rising of the sun guides you as you slowly slip out of Nico’s arms, tugging his shirt down to cover as much of you as possible as you bend to pick up your clothes off the floor. You’re almost at the door when you hear Nico sit up in the bed, his hand pushing his hair off his forehead as he squints at you.

“Where are you going?” He questions, a small pout growing on his face, “Why are you leaving?” He adds, his expression so genuinely distraught you falter, rushing towards the bed to press a soft kiss against his mouth.

“Back to my room - Luca and Mia will be home soon.” You respond, pressing a second kiss to his mouth before fulfilling your original plan of escaping back to the bright sun lighting up your bedroom.

By midweek, something had shifted. Nico couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the ease that had settled between you both after that night now seemed... off. He’d catch you pulling away when he leaned in too close, or your smile would falter just a second too soon when he said something meant to make you laugh.

It wasn’t dramatic, not really. Nothing explicit had been said or done, but Nico could feel it like a weight on his chest. You still smiled at him, still reached out for him when you thought no one was looking, but there was a distance now—something unspoken and sharp.

Wednesday evening found Nico sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. His fingers itched to call you, text you, something, but he didn’t want to come across as needy. He ruffled his hair with both hands, frustrated with himself for feeling so thrown off.

“What did I do wrong?” he muttered under his breath.

The question had been swirling in his head all day. Everything had seemed so perfect that morning—your soft kisses, the way you lingered just long enough to make it feel like you didn’t really want to leave. But now, it was like the world had tilted slightly, throwing everything off balance.

By Thursday, Nico couldn’t take it anymore. He cornered you in the hallway, gently grabbing your wrist as you tried to brush past him.

“Can we talk?” he said softly, his dark eyes scanning your face for any sign of what was going on. You hesitated, your lips parting like you might brush him off, but something in his expression stopped you. His hand on your wrist wasn’t demanding; it was desperate.

“Okay,” you said, barely above a whisper.

He led you outside, the cool evening air biting at your skin as you stepped onto the patio. Nico let go of your wrist but didn’t move far, his hands now shoved deep into his pockets.

“Did I do something?” he asked, his voice barely steady. “I just... it feels like something’s changed, and I don’t know what. If I messed up, I need you to tell me, Bee. I can’t—” He broke off, looking down as his jaw tightened.

You stared at him, your heart sinking at the vulnerability in his voice. He wasn’t just confused; he was hurt.

“It’s not you,” you said quickly, stepping closer, though your arms stayed wrapped around yourself. “Nico, it’s not you. I just... I’m scared, okay? About what this is, about how fast everything’s moving. It’s not that I don’t care—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip. “I do care. That’s the problem.”

Nico’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “You don’t have to be scared,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Bee. I just need to know where we stand. You can tell me anything.”

Your throat tightened at his words, the sincerity in his gaze almost overwhelming. You reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing his.

“I’m trying,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I just... I need time to figure this out. Can you give me that?”He nodded quickly, his relief evident even as his expression remained serious.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “I’ll wait. Just—just don’t shut me out, okay? I can’t handle that.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I won’t,” you promised.

Saturday morning hit everyone like a train - your sister had decided to stay in Switzerland for a few more weeks, wanting to spend some time making rough plans with her new fiancé, which left you catching the almost twenty four hour flight home, alone.

“You’ve got everything?” Your sister asks as you put your suitcase in the back of the car — Nico standing by the drivers door with the keys in his hand.

“Yep, thank you guys for everything - I think this was the best holiday I’ve ever had.” You say softly, leaning forwards to pull your older sister into a tight hug before turning towards Luca and pulling him in for one too.

“We’re family now, you can come back anytime.” Luca says cheerfully, patting your head softly before turning to wrap his arms around his now sobbing fiancé. “No need to cry, she’ll be okay.” He coos at your sister, his words only making her sob harder. You chuckle at your sisters dramatics, waving a final goodbye to Luca before slipping into the passenger seat of the car, Nico sliding in besides you.

The drive to the airport is quiet, the morning sun casting a golden glow over the mountains. Nico keeps his hands on the wheel, his jaw tight as though he’s holding back something he doesn’t want to say. You glance over at him, studying the curve of his brow and the tension in his lips.

You want to memorise as much of him as you can, before you go.

Finally, as the airport looms into view, he pulls the car into an empty space and cuts the engine. The silence stretches between you, heavy and loaded. Then he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He takes a deep breath before adding “Please stay.” The words hang in the air, and your heart tightens painfully in your chest. You want to say yes, to give into the magnetic pull between you and stay in this dreamlike moment forever.

But reality is relentless.

“We have our lives to return to, Nico,” you say softly, looking down at your hands. “We can’t just stay here trapped in time, forever.”

He turns to face you, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that makes your resolve waver. “Will we see each other again?” he asks, his voice trembling just enough to reveal the weight of the question.

You pause, the enormity of your feelings crashing over you like a wave. “Someday,” you say, meeting his gaze and offering a faint smile.

“Someday,” he repeats, the word a lifeline he’s choosing to cling to. Then, as if convincing himself, he nods. “I can live with someday.”

You reach over, placing a hand over his. For a moment, the world feels frozen, just the two of you in this car, this fleeting moment that feels both heartbreaking and hopeful. Then, with a deep breath, you pull away, opening the door and stepping out.

As you grab your suitcase from the trunk, Nico stays by the car, watching you with an expression you know will haunt you for a long time. You wave one last time before heading into the airport, your heart heavy but filled with a quiet determination.

Someday.

You can live with someday too.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier smut #slowburn fanfic #one of my favs tbh

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lemonlover1110 · 4 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 29] First Day of School

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

*Making a very important poll soon (aka in a few minutes)❤️

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Does this look okay?” Ren walks into your room with the cutest outfit imaginable. Today is the day: his first day of kindergarten. You’re nearly in tears every time you look at him, not being able to believe that your baby boy is ready to go to school. He’s so excited for it, and you don’t want to shatter it by crying

“You look so handsome, baby. Go show your daddy.” You tell him, knowing that Satoru is downstairs trying to make Ren’s bento box perfect. You need a moment to let yourself cry and compose yourself before you drop him off. He’s just a baby, why do you have to send him to school?

Ren nods in response, and walks out of your room to go to where his father is. You take a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. It’s his first day of school, you’re not sending him off to war. It’s just hard to accept that your child is growing up so fast.

The baby that you were just carrying in your arms is going to school. You have to gather yourself, you can’t be a mess in front of Ren who is already scared of what awaits him. Satoru is going to comfort him while you figure something out.

“Hey, buddy. Are you ready?” The biggest smile comes to Satoru’s lips as he sees his son walk towards him. Satoru tries to finish the special lunch that he’s been set on making for Ren, before his son gets to him.

“I am. Waiting for mommy.” Ren answers, and it tugs Satoru’s heart. For how much longer is Ren going to call you mommy? When will it just be mom? Satoru takes a deep breath, he knew that spending too much time with you meant that your sadness would become infectious.

“What do you want for breakfast? Cereal?” Satoru asks, and Ren nods in response. He doesn’t really care to have a more intricate breakfast, he’s not that hungry this early.

“Will school always be this early?” Ren questions, walking over to the informal dining table that’s in the kitchen. Satoru chuckles, knowing that it gets worse from here– At least kindergarten isn’t too bad.

“It’ll always be at the same time.” Satoru answers, and he sees the frown that appears on Ren’s face. That just ruined everything for the little boy, and Satoru can’t blame him. “But hey, if you cooperate I’ll let you sleep in on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Really?” A hopeful spark appears in Ren’s eyes, and Satoru almost feels bad. He’ll do whatever will work.

“Yes sir.” Satoru smirks. Ren loves the deal, therefore he’ll cooperate as much as he has to. Satoru has this whole parenting thing under wraps. He walks over to Ren, putting the bowl of cereal in front of Ren, “Eat up, honey. You have a long day ahead of you.”

“Okay, I’m ready!” You announce, walking into the kitchen to find Satoru and Ren sitting together. Tears well up in your eyes as you see the pair and you hold your breath,

“Actually, give me a minute.”

“Can you replay the song?” Ren asks, and Satoru wastes no time in starting the song over again and turning it up to max volume. Anything to drown out the sniffles that come from you. You’re almost at the school, you need to gather yourself. Ren can’t see you crying like this.

“Baby shark is not that sad for you to be reacting like this.” Satoru tries to joke, which only makes you sob. He’d love to join you in the crying, but someone has to be strong for Ren. “You must really hate the song.”

“Shut up.” You tell him in complete tears. He’s trying to cheer you up but nothing is working today. You have to soothe yourself. Your son is going to be fine.

“We’re almost at the school.” Satoru announces, and Ren looks outside the car excitedly. Satoru’s word of mouth worked, and the child is more than excited to go to school. Though Satoru’s announcement is more for you, his way of telling you to gather yourself.

“Replay the song!” Ren yells, and Satoru does as the child asks. Ren will be getting out of the car soon enough so Satoru doesn’t mind listening to the song a couple more times.

“He’s going to be fine.” Satoru tells you, knowing that Ren is too busy listening to his song to hear what Satoru has to say.

“He’s growing up too fast.” You say, and Satoru pouts. Bringing that up makes him want to cry too but he can’t. Satoru’s already missed so much, and he’s going to miss more. But it’s fine. Ren is going to be fine, and he’s excited to go to school.

“We’re here.” Satoru turns off the radio, handing you his handkerchief so you can clean your face. You have to control yourself for at least ten minutes, then you can cry all you want. Ren takes off his seatbelt before his face presses against the car window, looking at the surroundings.

“It’s big.” Ren comments which earns a chuckle from the both of you. Your house is almost as big, you have no idea why he’s shocked. You take one final deep breath before opening your car door. You can hold back the tears.

“Alright, let’s go. We’re going to be late.” You say, and Satoru fights back a smile. At least you’re putting up a strong fort.

You get Ren out of the car, and before you begin the walk to the entrance, you take a couple of photos of the child. You’re finally able to do it without crying, so you take as much as you can. Ren with a backpack nearly twice his size and a lunchbox as big as him. He’s a Gojo, he’ll be your height in no time.

“Were you crying?” Ren looks up at you, seeing how your eyes look puffy. The question makes you want to burst into tears again.

“Why would I be?” You furrow your brows, trying to play it off. That’s good enough to deter Ren from questioning it any further. Ren takes your hand, and you squeeze it. “Are you excited, baby? It’s a very big day.”

“I am.” Ren smiles at you, and you melt. He’s going to have so much fun and learn new things, you shouldn’t worry.

“Stop!” Satoru nearly yells when you’re at the entrance. You both look back at him, confused why he suddenly yells. “Let me take a picture of the two of you.”

“You don’t have to yell like a maniac next time you want a picture.” You tell him, getting ready for a picture with Ren as Satoru takes his phone out. You signal Ren to come closer, and once he’s close enough, you both smile at Satoru’s phone.

“And for the record, I didn’t yell like a maniac.” Satoru says after he takes enough pictures of the two of you. You think you’re done, but he hands the phone to you. He wants you to do the same for him and Ren, which you have no issue doing. You might be a little late but who cares? The first day of kindergarten isn’t that big of a deal.

“Alright you two, say cheese.” You can’t help but smile as you see your two boys share the same smile as they look at the camera. You hurry up, seeing that Ren is growing sick of taking photos. You don’t take as many pictures as Satoru did, but it’s good enough, he doesn’t need fifty variations of the same picture.

“Alright, let’s go.” You hand the phone back to Satoru, before you open the door to the school. You’ll admit, it’s nice knowing that you won’t be stuck within the halls this time around… You do feel slightly bad for your son, but he’ll for sure enjoy it the first years.

“Do you need help with your backpack, buddy?” Satoru asks, seeing how the end of the backpack hits the child’s calves.

“I can handle it!” Ren claims, immediately getting defensive. He’s in a space with kids his age, he has to look like a big boy. Satoru chuckles, claiming,

“I won’t take it from you, no need to answer like that.”

You begin to get nervous as you approach the classroom. Leaving your baby alone in a classroom full of kids with a woman that you barely know is nerve wracking to say the least. Satoru looks fine, you should be more than fine as well.

“This is the classroom.” Satoru announces when you nearly walk past it. The teacher waits outside with the door open and a warm welcoming smile on her face. This is it. Satoru takes over, telling his son, “Alright, Ren. Greet your teacher and go inside.”

“How about a goodbye first?” You say, glaring back at Satoru for sending off your child without even getting a proper farewell. Ren waves at the two of you before walking into his classroom as if you didn’t matter. You stick out your bottom lip as you look at Satoru, “He’s a big boy now.”

“Let’s get out of here before the waterworks begin.” Satoru throws his arm over your shoulder and tries to guide you outside, awkwardly waving at Ren’s teacher. He’d stick around and talk to her some more (though the emails and meet-the-teacher night should be more than enough), but he has to make sure that you don’t begin to cry outside of the classroom.

“He doesn’t even want to say goodbye to his mommy, what have we done?” You let out a cry, and Satoru tries his best to calm you down. Teachers are outside, waiting for their respective students, he doesn’t need them staring at you.

“How about I take you to breakfast?” Satoru asks, hoping that it’ll take your mind off crying. Truthfully, he might begin to cry too. “Heard there’s a good place around here, won’t you like to try it?”

“I’m not hungry.” You answer, your appetite completely gone from the lack of reaction from your son. Like father like son or whatever they say.

“A beautiful face like yours has to eat, c’mon.” Satoru insists, and you sigh. Your stomach growls, giving it away. You’re hungry and you can’t deny it, but you don’t want to eat. Satoru hears it, but he knows you won’t change your mind that easily. “Fine, but I’m still stopping to get something for myself.”

“Yeah, whatever. Take me to get breakfast.” You roll your eyes. His plan has succeeded, right now you’re not crying because Ren entered his classroom without giving you a hug.

“It’s a date.” He says, which earns a weird look from you. It makes him feel nervous, and he scratches the back of his neck before asking, “Is it a date?”

“It’s…” You begin but you stop yourself. You’re not sure. Do you want to give him that slight bit of hope that you can get back together?

You clear your throat before telling him, “I’ll decide after.”

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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marsdql · 2 months ago

Text

Unexpected — ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Extended verison of caught off guard !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Pairing: Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.

Genre/warnings: fluff, little suggestive?, brother's bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, mention of stalking, alloooottt of teasing, no dividers in between the paragraphs… | wc: 25k I think.

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: im so extremely sorry for the ungodly word count I wrote each part separately and forgot to take in consideration the amount of writing I was doing.. The poll said to not make this into parts so I just put it all in one post though!!!!!!! + Masterlist coming soon, request me your suggestions (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ okay enjoy now

Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever.

You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!

Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.

You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!

“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.

  “Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)

30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.

Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.

Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.

Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.

There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.

“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.

He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”

Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.

“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’

“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.

As Heeseung takes over your bed, you are still in shock. He is sprawled out like he owns the place, watching you from the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. When someone dares to call you out on your personal space, you feel both irritated and agitated.

He pats the empty spot on the bed beside him with the same smirk and asks, “Are you really just going to stare at me from over there?”

You pause, but you cannot maintain any resistance and end up stumbling over. You take care to maintain some distance between you while sitting on the edge, but he does not let you off that easily.

Hee laughs and creeps closer, making you all too aware of the distance vanishing between you two. “Calm down, I don’t bite.” When you look up, you see him observing you with that recognizable sparkle in his eye that indicates he is relishing every moment of it.

You make an effort to minimize it by rolling your eyes, but your cheeks’ redness most likely shows that you are not paying much attention. “Heeseung, what are you even doing here? Wouldn’t you be better off downstairs or not settling into my room?”

With a low chuckle, he leans back comfortably without shifting. With a playful tone, he raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, do you not like me here? Your mom is still out shopping, and your brother is unconscious. I thought, why don’t I keep you company since it’s just the two of us?”

Even though he still teases, his eyes are now softer. For a moment, he seems to be genuinely interested in you rather than just making jokes, as if he is looking at you differently than he has in the past. As the air between you thickens and you feel trapped but unwilling to move, your pulse quickens.

He leans forward abruptly, getting so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure you actually want me to leave?” He whispers as his gaze moves over your face, capturing every tiny expression you are unable to conceal.

You catch the words in your throat. Before you can respond, he raises one hand and gently brushes a flyaway hair out of your face, his fingers remaining in place for a beat too long.

He whispers, “Tell me to stop, and I will,” in a low voice that is so intimate it chills you.

However, for some reason, you remain silent. You cannot decide whether you want him to stay or enjoy the excitement of him being this close to you and staring at you as if you are the only person in the room.

All he does is smile, that knowing smile returning to his face. He leans back and whispers, “Thought so,” remaining close enough to feel the electricity of the distance.

The weight of the moment presses down on you in the most euphoric way, making it seem like it will last forever. Even though Heeseung’s smile is still there, his eyes seem softer now, almost tender. He seems to be assessing each response, blush, and look as though recording them all.

In a low, informal voice, he begins, “So.” “Will you explain to me why you stare at me all the time, or will you continue to act as though it’s not obvious?”

He tilts his head, leaning a little closer to make sure you are not escaping too easily, but your face turns red hot, your heart pounding, and you quickly turn your head away. Please do not be so shy around me right now. He laughs softly and adds, “We both know you have been looking for a while.”

It feels like the words are stuck in your throat when you try to say something. He moves, keeping you cornered with his arm braced against the headboard next to your shoulder. The closeness is dizzying.

At last, you are able to find your voice. “I’m not… Really, I wasn’t. It’s not as if I—” His gaze prevents you from forming a coherent sentence, so you trail off.

Evidently taking pleasure in your agitated state, he laughs. “So it was not intentional that I always caught you staring at me in the hallway or whenever you passed by with your friends?”

Your lack of response is sufficient, and he smiles, obviously enjoying your response.

He leans slightly closer, until you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, and murmurs, “I guess I was right, huh?” He says quietly, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” in a tone that has become more earnest and almost comforting. “I kinda enjoy it.”

You look up and meet his eyes as those final words give you a start. They have an unexpected quality that makes it seem as though he has known you as well as you have known him. There is still teasing, but it has a deeper, more genuine undertone.

“Wait—what?” Your voice barely rises above a whisper as you manage to blurt out.

His eyes remain fixed on yours as he smiles, softer this time. “Are you sure you don’t know?”

You do not trust yourself to say anything more, so you shake your head. He sighs as if he is having a hard time believing what he is going to say.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “I have been interested in you since long before tonight.”

The words linger between you, vibrating with an intensity that catches you completely off guard, and you freeze. Heeseung’s eyes soften, becoming completely serious instead of playful. His closeness now seems more like a confession than a tease.

You mumble, “Wait,” hardly believing your own voice. “You have not been ignoring me?”

He nods slowly, his previous sly smile giving way to something more real and vulnerable. “Yes, I have noticed you, but I wouldn’t say I have been staring at you. Do you think I have not noticed your gaze on me? Or the way you become silent around me? It’s clear, y/n.”

You are rendered speechless by the shock of what he said. Your heart is thumping in your chest and your mind is racing as you try to process this new reality. You have always known Heeseung was self-assured, perhaps even arrogant, but this? You have never seen him like this before. It is honest and unvarnished, and for a split second, you cannot even tell if you are dreaming.

Trying to gather yourself, you ask, “Are you serious?” but your words come out more breathless than you meant.

He responds softly, “I don’t joke about this kind of stuff,” as his thumb lightly brushes the side of your arm, warming your skin. “I have been trying to determine whether you were feeling the same way or if I was just dreaming.”

Your pulse quickens at the thought, and you bite your lip. The air feels heavier and thicker now, and the room feels smaller. In this moment of unsaid tension, everything around you seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you.

You do not say anything for a few seconds, allowing his words to register. You have long admired Heeseung from a distance and wondered what it would be like to be near him. However, you never imagined that he would share your sentiments. And now here he is, publicly acknowledging it, his eyes full of sincerity.

“I…,” you finally manage to say, “I did not know you would notice,” in a hesitant and low voice. “After all, I believed I was being subtle. I did not want to cause any strangeness.”

Hee laughs, his voice deep and comforting. “Clever? You? I promise you, y/n, there is nothing subtle about the way you gaze at me. However, I enjoy it. I have enjoyed it for some time.

For a moment, you question whether you are dreaming as the words hit you like a wave. The fact that he is sitting so close to you and that his hand is now resting on the bed between you two, inches from where yours is, makes the entire situation seem unreal. Even though everything is so personal, there is still a lot of uncertainty, which makes it difficult to completely unwind.

You ask, just above a whisper, “So, what now?” as a mix of anxiety and excitement rises inside of you.

Heeseung’s face softens as he inhales deeply. “Now?” he asks in a soft yet purposeful tone. “y/n, all I am waiting for now is for you to say what you want. Because I am listening to whatever it is. I would rather not hurry you. I have been waiting for you to solve it as well.”

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you release the tension that has been building between you, and your heart skips a beat. You see the honesty and rawness that mirror your own feelings when you look into his eyes.

You look at him with fresh clarity and say, “I think I have figured it out,” in a quiet but firm voice.

It is the same spark in his eyes that has always held you, and Heeseung’s smile is back, albeit softer this time. “Yes? What did you discover?”

As you slowly extend your hand and touch his, you sense a spark of electricity.

His smile grows, and everything seems to be in harmony at that precise moment. There is no longer any hesitation or act of deceit. Now that you and him are at last in agreement, you can look forward to seeing where this unspoken bond may take you.

With his hand now resting on top of yours, Heeseung whispers, “I am glad you figured it out,” his voice barely audible above a whisper. “Because I have been anticipating that statement from you.”

And then everything is different. Something new—something thrilling, something genuine—replaces the tension and the air feels lighter

Neither of you could have imagined as Heeseung leans in and lightly touches your lips. A thrill is sent through you by the gentle touch of Heeseung’s lips against yours, but it is cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic sweeps through you in a flash, and your heart jumps into your throat. With wide eyes, you instinctively glance at the door as though it might save you from the looming catastrophe as you swiftly pull back.

You hear your brother’s voice, loud and clearly irritated, as the door creaks open just a crack. “Y/nnie? Are you in there?”

Quick as ever, Heeseung leans back and puts just enough distance between himself and you to appear casual, but you can tell he is not nearly as shaken as you are by the way his eyes dart to you and the faint smile that is still tugging at his lips.

You force yourself to swallow in an attempt to control your panic. “Yes, I’m here!” you call out, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

Your brother is standing in the doorway, obviously bewildered, as the door opens wider. His brow furrows in that manner that indicates he is going to ask a ton of questions, and he blinks twice as his eyes dart from you to Heeseung. “What on earth are you two doing in here?”

Your mind is a jumble of ideas and excuses as you fumble for the right words. “Nothin’! Nothing bad, really. We were just—uh, talking.”

Your brother folds his arms across his chest and his eyes narrow. “Talking?” he asks again in a suspicious tone. “You two talk like this all the time?”

Heeseung gives you a barely contained smile when you meet his gaze, as though he finds the entire situation humorous. He is not phased at all, of course, because he has always had that arrogant confidence that helps him get out of a tight spot. In the meantime, you are just a few seconds away from losing it due to embarrassment.

“Indeed, we were just catching up. We haven’t seen one another in a long time,” Heeseung’s voice is smooth and unaffected, as if a single sentence would allay your brother’s suspicions.

Your brother looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Catching up in her room, you two? Doesn’t that sound a bit suspicious?”

You give Heeseung a quick, frantic glance, hoping he will save you, but he is taking too much pleasure in this. “Again, we were just conversing. Nothing strange,” Heeseung says with a nonchalant shrug. “But we can go if you have to. I don’t want to invade your territory.” He says with a chuckle.

As though this whole exchange is one big headache he did not sign up for, your brother pauses, still glaring, and then sighs. Then he turns back to the door and murmurs, “Anyway, just don’t make it weird.” “You understand what I mean when I say that you don’t want to hear anything too strange from this room later?”

Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a barely contained laugh as he leaves. His voice is light as he says, “He’s got nothing on us,” but his grin remains mischievous and a bit too knowing.

With your heart still pounding, you release a breath you were unaware you were holding. You mutter, attempting to steady yourself by running a hand through your hair, “I can’t believe he just walked in like that.”

Leaning back against the bed, Heeseung laughs. “Slow down. In any case, he’s too ignorant to solve anything.”

Despite his playful tone, there is a surprising undertone of protectiveness in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, and for a brief moment, you are the only two of you. The tension from earlier returns, but this time it is different—more at ease.

You start to say, “Well, I suppose we should wait until he returns downstairs before we—” but Heeseung cuts you off, his eyes softening.

With a tone that conveys something unsaid, he asks softly, “Before we what?”

You look him in the eyes and feel the tension between you two return. This time, the separation between you is not about actual distance but rather about the potential outcomes and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. You can’t shake the feeling that something could change everything right in front of you.

You confess, “I… I don’t know,” not knowing how to move through the distance between you but unwilling to let go of the bond you have just found. “However, I am aware that I’m not yet prepared for him to solve this.”

With his confidence fully restored, Heeseung grins. “Don’t be concerned. We will resolve the issue. Furthermore, both you and I are aware of what really happens next.”

The ease with which he returns to his typical, carefree self makes you laugh and shake your head. However, you realize that perhaps—just possibly—you are ready to stop acting like everything is easy and let whatever happens between you and Heeseung play out naturally as you sit there with him and hear your brother’s voice reverberating in your head.

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[ marsdql ] •⩊•

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