Artist's rendition:

addition: the mother of all mothers, the pic that started it all

✩₊˚.⋆☾ 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 ☽⋆⁺₊✧

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/ 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠, 𝚈/𝙽 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔. 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙, 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 

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The sun shone brightly over the park, casting its warm golden glow across the bustling set. Joe cracked jokes, Sal and Murr bantered over the next challenge, and the crew rushed around with cameras and clipboards. I was battling a losing war with the wind somewhere amid the chaos.

Strands of my hair whipped relentlessly across my face, defying every attempt to tuck them behind my ears. The guys noticed my struggle—Joe nudged Sal, both grinning as I cursed under my breath and pushed another rogue strand away.

Then there was Brian.

He stood a few feet away, leaning against a table with his arms crossed, his lips curled into a knowing smirk. His eyes sparkled as they followed my futile attempts, his amusement radiating off him.

“Need some backup there, Y/N?” he called, his teasing tone flushing my cheeks.

“More like a full rescue operation,” I replied, trying to sound playful though my nerves betrayed me.

Brian’s smirk widened as he pushed off the table and strolled toward me. Every step sent my heart racing faster, especially when he stopped just close enough to make the space between us feel suddenly too small.

“Let me see what I can do,” he said, scanning the set before heading toward the crew. Moments later, he returned, triumphantly holding up a black hair tie. “Problem solved.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, half laughing, half mortified. “You’re actually going to help me tie my hair?”

“Of course,” he said, a playful edge in his voice. “Don’t tell me you don’t trust me?”

“I don’t know,” I teased, crossing my arms. “Should I?”

“You’ll see. I’ve got skills,” he said with a grin, gesturing for me to turn around.

I hesitated, the weight of the moment settling on me. Letting Brian, of all people, fix my hair felt strangely…intimate. But his smile was disarming, and a warmth in his gaze made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” I relented, turning my back to him. “But if I look ridiculous, I’m blaming you.”

“Noted,” he replied, stepping closer.

As his fingers gathered my hair, his knuckles brushed the nape of my neck, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I tried not to react, but every touch heightened my awareness of how close he was.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his breath warm near my ear.

I huffed a soft laugh. “I am holding still. Don’t mess it up.”

“I would never,” he said smoothly. Then, with a wicked grin I couldn’t see but could feel in his tone, he added, “Though if I pull too hard, just yell out the safe word.”

I froze for half a second, my cheeks blazing.

“Excuse me?!” I managed, spinning my head slightly to look at him.

His face was pure mischief, his grin wide and unrepentant. “What? I’m just saying. It’s important to communicate.”

“Brian!” I hissed, mortified, though I couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling up.

“Hey, I’m just here to help,” he said innocently, though the devilish glint in his eyes remained. “You’re the one with your mind in the gutter.”

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, shaking my head but unable to stop smiling.

“Relax,” he said, chuckling as he carefully tied the hair tie. His fingers brushed my neck one last time, sending another spark through me before he stepped back. “There. Perfect. And no safe word needed.”

I turned around, my heart racing as I regained my composure. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you let me fix your hair anyway,” he said, grinning.

I reached up to touch the newly tied ponytail, laughing softly. “You’re surprisingly good at this.”

He shrugged, but his eyes stayed on mine. “You look great,” he said, his tone sincere and his gaze steady.

My breath caught. I wasn’t sure how to respond, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt charged, the world around us falling away.

“Hey, you two!” Joe’s voice shattered the moment, loud and obnoxious. “We are ready to shoot!”

Brian stepped back quickly, his easy grin snapping back into place. “Coming!” he called, his tone light, but the flush on his cheeks gave him away.

As we walked back toward the group, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He avoided my gaze, but the small smile tugging at his lips told me he wasn’t upset about the interruption.

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The rest of the day flew by in a blur of challenges and laughter, but the memory of Brian’s fingers in my hair lingered like a secret I wasn’t ready to share.

I caught him looking at me more than once, his eyes softening when our gazes met. Each time, I felt the same flutter in my chest, a hopeful thrill that maybe—just maybe—he thought it too.

As the sun descended below the horizon, Brian found me again, and the crew started packing up. He stood close, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“Hey,” I replied, feeling warm in my chest.

It seemed like he wanted to say something more for a moment, but instead, he just smiled. “You did great today,” he said.

“So did you,” I said, smiling back.

As we stood there, the park bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of something more.

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Mac to Dennis