#(Lol and now the date changed to Tomorrow)

[autism-corner]

hes done it again

[luciolefire]

hey all! quick life update; I am no longer bisexual.

[seilon]

surgery got unscheduled + my deposit refunded because they scheduled me at a location that isn’t the one I was authorized for . so . now I am in limbo. yet again

[stabbyfoxandrew]

happy wednesday! hope you're staying warm! <3

WIP Wednesday (1/17) || Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 87.5)

Aaron presses the eject button and the TV screen goes back to blue when the tray pops out. Andrew watches as he takes the disc out and turns around with a look on his face. Aaron clears his throat and waves the disc around.

“I thought it would be like that movie Nicky made us go to that one time. Ya know, the one with the grizzly bear and the little goat, or whatever it was.”

“The bear and the little goat…” Andrew repeats, confused.

It takes a moment, but memories of high school come flooding into his head and Andrew recalls the night Nicky dragged them both out on an adventure to the movies. But on the way there, the two of them started arguing. Nicky decided since they were acting like babies, they could watch a baby movie. Instead of one of the horror movies that they were arguing about. It was called Open Season and it was about a pet grizzly getting turned out into the wild for the first time.

It was a fitting, but also unjust punishment. For Aaron, anyway. You see, Andrew had still been medicated back then and… Well, he found it hilarious. He remembers cackling at every joke and flipping off an actual seven year old when she looked at him funny. Andrew cringes internally.

"It was a deer. Not a goat." Andrew says finally. "And it wasn't that good."

“I know it wasn't. But you really liked it." Aaron says, confused.

“I was high off my ass on anti-psychotics.” Andrew says, matter-of-factly. “I thought watching the bathroom faucet drip was fun back then.”

“Oh.” Aaron’s expression crumbles like wet sand. “I thought… Uh. Anyway, happy birthday.”

“Mm. Thanks. You too.” Andrew says, crossing his arms. “What are we doing for Christmas? Waterboarding practice? You can go first."

“It wasn’t that bad!” Aaron insists.

“It was.”

“Okay, it was.”

[nestavadavat]

Sigh

[greenishness]

My roommate and I are going clubbing just the two of us because none of the annoying people from our rowing club were available on short notice PEACE and LOVE on PLANET EARTH.

[sunsetmade]

fic idea.

Reader who was originally a pouge but started dating rafe, the pouges all ignore her and fast forward to whenever she’s married and preggers with rafe idk lol?

Love this idea!! I’m going to do a part two so that will posted tomorrow!

His Pouge

Rafe Cameron x Pouge! Reader

Everyone had something to say about it—about them.

And honestly? She got it.

It wasn’t like she’d planned to fall for Rafe Cameron. Not even close. Growing up on The Cut, the Camerons were more cautionary tale than reality—like whispers in the dark about what happened when you trusted the wrong people. Everyone had a story. Everyone had a warning. And Rafe? He was the one they all swore was too far gone to come back.

So no, falling for him had never been part of the plan.

But plans didn’t mean much when he looked at her like she hung the moon. Like the chaos of the world went quiet when she walked into the room. And when he said her name low and teasing, with that barely-there grin like it was just for her… the edge he wore around everyone else faded into something almost gentle.

Especially when he reached out with that careful touch, like brushing a strand of hair from her face was sacred somehow. Like he was afraid she’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t soft with her.

And now, curled up in the back of his truck—her legs tucked over his, her cheek resting against the worn fabric of his hoodie—it almost didn’t hurt so much. Almost.

“You’re quiet,” Rafe murmured, his fingers grazing lazy patterns against her thigh, just under the hem of her cutoff shorts. “Too quiet. You only get this quiet when you’re either spiraling or trying not to cry. Which is it?”

She didn’t answer right away. The steady drag of his fingertips, the warmth of his chest beneath her cheek—it made it harder to say out loud.

“Pope won’t even look at me,” she whispered eventually, voice barely audible over the crickets in the woods behind them.

Rafe exhaled slowly through his nose. “Yeah.”

“JJ called me a traitor,” she continued, throat tightening. “And Kiara just… walked off. Like I wasn’t even standing there.”

She felt it then—his whole body go taut. The subtle way his arm firmed around her back, the shift of his jaw against the top of her head. He didn’t like her feeling this way. And he definitely didn’t like anyone else making her feel this way.

“They don’t know us,” he said after a beat, voice low, a little rough. “Don’t get it.”

She sat with that for a moment, blinking up at the stars peeking through the tree branches overhead. Her heart ached, not just from the distance between her and the Pogues, but from knowing how easy it was for them to walk away.

“That’s the hardest part,” she said softly. “They don’t want to understand. They’ve already decided I’m wrong for loving you. That you haven’t really changed. But… I know you have.”

Rafe didn’t respond right away. He didn’t have to. She knew what he was thinking. What he was carrying. They both knew the version of him people remembered wasn’t easy to forget. Or forgive.

But she also knew the version of him who made her laugh when she didn’t want to smile. The one who checked her tire pressure because he “didn’t trust that rust bucket” she drove, and who kissed her forehead like it was a promise. He wasn’t perfect. But he was trying. And with her, he was someone softer. Calmer. Safer.

He held her tighter, tucking her closer into his chest like she was something breakable. His nose brushed her hair, his breath steady against her skin.

“You want me to talk to them?” he asked quietly, like he was already ready to go to war for her. “Tell ‘em to back off? Not that it’s any of their damn business—”

“No.” She cut him off gently, leaning back just enough to look up at him. “I don’t want this to be a fight. I don’t want us to feel like we can’t enjoy being together. I don’t want to have to defend us. ”

Rafe frowned, brows pulling together as his eyes searched hers. “You’re hurting,” he said, like it offended him on some deep, personal level. “You shouldn’t be hurting.”

A soft, sad smile tugged at her lips. “I just… I feel like I’m stuck between two worlds. Like I don’t really belong anywhere right now.”

He didn’t speak. Just shifted her fully into his lap, arms wrapped around her waist now, his body shielding her from the world like he could protect her from every sharp word ever thrown her way. One hand reached over to the glove compartment, pulling out the beat-up old lighter he always fidgeted with. He turned it over in his fingers for a second before placing it gently in her palm.

“Here,” Rafe said, his voice quiet as he pressed something small and familiar into her hand. “Click it. You like doing that.”

She glanced down, blinking. It was his lighter—the old beat-up one he always had in his pocket, the one he flicked open and shut whenever he was thinking too hard.

“Rafe…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“You always mess with it when you’re nervous,” he said gently, eyes locked on hers. “Figured it might help.”

Her throat tightened instantly. There it was again—that way he saw her. Not just the parts everyone else noticed. But the quieter things. The little habits. The flickers of anxiety she never spoke out loud.

She took it with careful fingers, the metal cool against her skin. Her thumb slid over the hinge and she clicked it open. Then shut. Then open again. The soft snap echoed in the stillness of the truck cab. And slowly—like turning down the volume on all her noise—the motion started to calm her.

Rafe let her settle into the rhythm for a moment before his nose brushed hers in a soft nudge that made her look up.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmured.

She blinked. “For what?”

“For being brave enough to want what you want.” His lips twitched into the faintest, crooked smile. “Even if it’s complicated. Even if it’s… me.”

Something caught in her chest. Like her heart had hiccupped. The kind of ache that came when someone said the exact right thing at the exact right time and meant every word of it.

Her fingers squeezed around the lighter. “You make it easy to want you.”

His eyes darkened at that—just a little. Enough to make her stomach flip. “Don’t say stuff like that unless you want me to kiss you.”

“I do.” She whispered with a small smile rested on her face.

That was all he needed.

His lips met hers, slow and certain, like he’d been thinking about this moment all day. There was no rush. No frenzy. Just the kind of kiss that felt like a secret—soft, sure, and full of something real.

She melted into him, arms wrapping around his neck like she was afraid he’d slip away. The world outside—the broken friendships, the whispers, the judgment—it all fell away. This didn’t feel like taking. This didn’t feel like a rebellion.

It felt like home.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead stayed resting against hers, breath mingling with hers in the quiet.

“They’ll come around,” he whispered. “And if they don’t, fuck ‘em. I’ve got you.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks before she even realized they were coming. Rafe caught them gently, wiping each one with the pad of his thumb like they mattered. Like she mattered.

“You’re not alone,” he said, barely louder than the wind outside the window. “Not while I’m around. You hear me?”

She nodded, unable to speak through the knot in her throat.

“And I know I’ve messed up. I know what they say about me.” His hand came up to cradle her jaw, thumb grazing the edge of her cheek. “But with you? I’d never mess that up. I swear I’d never let anyone hurt you. Not even your friends.”

She swallowed hard. “What if they never forgive me?”

“They don’t have to,” he said, without hesitation. “You don’t need to apologize for being happy. You don’t need to feel guilty because your heart picked somethin’ messy. But this?” His voice softened. “You and me? That’s not somethin’ you should be ashamed of.”

Her fingers threaded through his, her grip firm like she finally believed him.

For a long while, neither of them said anything. They just sat in the cab of his truck with the windows cracked, the summer air rustling the trees around them. Her head rested against his shoulder, and his arm held her like he didn’t plan to let go.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple, the softest one yet.

Then he whispered, “Let me take you home.”

She turned her face toward him, brushing her nose against his cheek. “Will you stay?”

His answer was a smile so tender it made her chest ache all over again.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

⸻

The ride to her house was quiet. Music carefully spilling through the radio creating a calming effect.

She leaned against the passenger door, one of his hoodies drowning her frame. It still smelled like him—cologne and campfire and something vaguely like pine. Her fingers were tangled with his across the console the whole time, and neither of them let go, even when he parked.

“You sure you don’t mind staying?” she asked once they were inside, locking the door behind them.

Rafe didn’t answer right away. Just dropped his keys on the counter, kicked off his boots, and gave her that slow half-smile she’d come to recognize as his you’re cute when you worry face.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said simply. And meant it.

She offered a small nod and padded toward the bathroom, tugging her hair down from where it had been tied up. He watched her disappear, then looked around the room.

It was small. A little cluttered. A blanket on the couch, half a pack of gum on the coffee table, a mug with a chipped handle by the sink. Her world was lived-in. Warm. So her. No matter how many times he had been in her house it always had the same effect on him.

Rafe had been in hundreds of houses—too big, too polished, too cold—but hers made his chest loosen in a way none of them ever had.

From down the hall, he could hear the soft sounds of her getting ready for bed: the quiet squeak of the faucet, the muffled hum of her toothbrush, the rustle of drawers opening and closing.

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with an easy fondness as she moved through her routine. There was something calming about the way she went through each step—methodical, familiar. She didn’t rush. She was just herself. And for once, she wasn’t trying to be okay. She was just being.

She glanced up mid-moisturizer, catching his reflection in the mirror. “You’re staring,” she mumbled through a sleepy smile.

Rafe shrugged. “I like watching you.”

She blinked, cheeks warming. “Doing what? Brushing my teeth?”

“Just being you.” He said it like it was obvious.

She rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered on her lips.

When she was finished, she turned off the bathroom light and walked past him in an oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder. Rafe caught her hand before she could pass, tugging her back into him for a second.

“I like this version of you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “The sleepy, makeup-off, extra-cute version.”

She hummed a quiet laugh against his chest. “You’re dangerously close to being sweet again.”

“Shhh.” He grinned. “Don’t ruin my street cred.”

They crawled into bed a few minutes later. She pulled the blankets up around them while he kicked off his jeans, leaving only his t-shirt and boxers before climbing in beside her.

She was still settling when he reached out and pulled her into him—her back against his chest, his arm slipping around her waist. His nose nuzzled into the space behind her ear, warm breath against her skin.

“You always cuddle like you’re afraid I’ll disappear,” she murmured, teasing.

“That’s because I might wake up and find out this was a dream.”

She turned in his arms at that, enough to face him in the dim light spilling through her curtains. His hair was messy, eyes half-lidded, expression softer than anyone else had ever seen on him. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead.

“You’re not dreaming.”

He leaned in and kissed her again—just once. Slow. Certain.

She tucked herself against his chest, her legs tangled with his, and his arms wrapped around her like they belonged there.

And when her breathing finally evened out, when she was warm and tucked into his chest, he let his own eyes close—pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head.

She didn’t know it, but that night, Rafe Cameron slept better than he had in years.

Part two is posted!

[supernovafics]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒

pairing: bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2k words

summary: in which kissing your best friend at a party is not something that friends do. or maybe it is?

warnings: explicit language, fluff

author’s note: i was watching friends on an airplane (the ep where it’s a flashback about how monica and chandler got together) and then i wrote this and then i immediately forgot about it so it’s just been sitting in my drafts for the past month lol and now i’m finally posting it 🫶🏾 enjoy!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was because of the loud music. 

The sharp pulsing beat made it impossible to think and impossible to focus on anything aside from Steve standing in front of you. 

He was saying something, but in this dim lighting, you couldn’t make out what, so you beckoned him to step even closer to you. 

You pushed off the wall you were leaning back on and moved forward so that your mouth was close to his ear. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Steve laughed as he leaned into your ear. “I was asking if we should go upstairs?” 

“Oh,” You responded and started nodding your head. “God, yes. We should’ve done that like an hour ago.”

His hand found yours, and he led you through the throngs of people scattered about this random house. You didn’t even know whose place this was. You’d heard about the party from a coworker, and you were only fifty percent certain that it was her cousin who was throwing it. 

“Ah, peace and quiet,” You said once you and Steve were in an empty room. 

You sat down on the carpeted floor, leaning back against the foot of the bed, and Steve joined you. It probably would’ve made more sense for you two to just leave the party, but neither of you suggested that. 

“So, we’re at a party and we’re holed up in a random room instead of actually having fun,” You said. “Have we officially become losers?”

Steve playfully scoffed at your words. “Of course not, we’re very cool.”

You shifted around so that your head was in his lap. “I guess it’s good that one of us still believes that.”

He laughed a little, and you smiled up at him in the darkness of the bedroom. 

It was simple moments like these that you probably loved the most with Steve; ever since you two met Freshman year of high school after being made lab partners in Biology. It had surprised you how easy it had always been to talk to him, and that still hadn’t changed years later.  

“Hey, what time do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“12.”

“Shit, I start at 10 and I was hoping we’d be able to carpool.” 

“I can still take you.”

You shook your head. “That would be way too inconvenient.”

Steve shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You gotta stop being so nice to me because it makes me look like the bad friend,” You joked.  

“You’re not the bad one. We both have our strengths in this friendship,” He told you, matching the playfulness in your tone. “I’m the one who’s super nice and caring, and you tell funny jokes sometimes.”

You immediately let out an offended sound. “Hey, I tell funny jokes all the time.”

“Mhm, yeah, sure. If you wanna think that, that’s fine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate you.”

That made Steve smile. “Love you too.” 

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, which only made him smile wider at you. Things became quiet from there; the only thing that could be heard was the faint sound of the music playing downstairs.

You probably could’ve fallen asleep just like that— lying down with your head resting in your best friend’s lap in this random house— if it weren’t for Steve breaking the silence. 

“Hey, you never told me what happened with your date last night. Can I get the full story?”

“Ugh,” Was your immediate response as you sat up, sleep no longer on your mind. “It was the worst date ever.” 

You shifted so that you were sitting across from Steve; it was the typical position you ended up in when either of you were telling stories. It reminded you of a campfire “sharing scary stories” type of thing, and it always amused you. 

“He took me to his favorite restaurant, which ended up being the shittiest burger place ever. And the conversation was terrible, I swear he only talked about himself the entire time,” You quickly explained. “And then to top it all off, at the end of the date when he was dropping me off at home, he said that I looked prettier when he met me in the bookstore.”

“Fuck,” Steve said as he shook his head. 

“Understatement of the century,” You sighed. You two were close enough that your knee brushed his. 

“Fuck that guy. You’re too good for him, anyway.”

You laughed a bit. “I agree with you in this case, but I also feel like I should remind you that you always say that. At this rate, no guy on earth will ever be good enough for me.”

“Yeah, and that’s true,” Steve immediately said, and you let out a laugh. “Also, this guy is especially the biggest fucking idiot because you’re always very hot.”

You should’ve laughed again or at least playfully rolled your eyes at what felt like a silly, exaggerated joke, something Steve was saying to make you feel better about how bad your date was. 

However, there was something about how he said his statement that made you want to kiss him, which was a sudden thought that kind of surprised you. 

This wasn’t the first time you thought about kissing Steve, but this was the first time that it was more than just a fleeting thought that you immediately chalked up as stupid or weird, and this definitely was the first time that you decided to actually act on it. 

You were leaning in before you could think better of it. Your lips found Steve’s in what was probably the most chaste kiss ever. Your hand was on his cheek, and his was planted firmly at his sides because of the initial confusion he felt at what was happening. 

You pulled back after the briefest moment, ready to rush out an apology if that was what you’d need to do to fix what you had probably just ruined between you and him. 

However, before you could say anything, he was reaching out for you, confusion wearing off and being replaced with something else entirely. His hands found your hips to pull you fully into his lap, and he didn’t hesitate to slot his lips against yours. 

It was surprising in the best way possible. Any nervousness you felt was completely washed away. 

Somehow, things moved so naturally, as if this had happened a bunch of times before, and there was no longer anything innocent about the kiss. Steve’s hands stayed on your hips, slipping beneath the shirt you were wearing, and yours found their way into the hair at the nape of his neck. He let out a soft hum against your mouth when you gave his hair a light tug. 

It was the first time you were eliciting sounds like those from your best friend, and it was the first time he was touching you in this way. A lot of firsts were happening in one moment, and weirdly enough, it all felt so right. 

Aside from realizing how good and right this felt, your mind was effectively blank. You didn’t think about what this could mean for you and Steve— what exactly this would change between you two— and in this moment, you didn’t want to think about it. 

“We don’t do this,” Steve mumbled against your lips after a few moments. “We’re friends.”

“I know,” You mumbled back, but neither of you made any move to stop what was happening. 

Instead, what made you two stop was the door suddenly opening and a sliver of light from the hallway brightening up the dark bedroom. You and Steve pulled away from each other immediately as if it was one of your friends walking in and catching you two, and not this random girl who was so obviously drunk. 

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” She said and then giggled. “I was looking for the bathroom.”  

The door was pulled shut before either you or Steve could say anything. You were gonna tell her that the bathroom was down the hall; you had used it earlier. 

You looked at Steve as you shifted off his lap and moved to sit next to him. Whatever lust-driven haze you two had been under was effectively broken.

“We should probably…” He trailed off, breaking your gaze. 

“Leave,” You finished for him. “We should probably leave.” 

“Yup, yeah, exactly,” He nodded. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was on the drive to your house that logical thinking managed to settle in.

Steve was your best friend, and you had kissed him, and he had kissed you. Platonic best friends did not do that. 

You didn’t necessarily regret it, but you were now finally recognizing just how much this could potentially ruin things between you and him. 

You didn’t want to talk about it, and you could tell that neither did Steve, but you knew that you had to.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” You said when he was parked in your driveway and you hadn’t made any move to leave his car just yet. “But, I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t kinda nice.”

Kinda nice was probably the biggest understatement ever, but you felt the need to refrain from being a thousand percent honest. 

“It was nice,” Steve ultimately agreed with a nod.

“I don’t know why I did it,” You admitted. “It just felt right in the moment, I think.” 

“I think that’s why I did it too,” Steve told you. “When you pulled away, it just felt like it needed to happen again… I immediately wanted it to happen again.” 

“So,” You started and then proceeded to ask what was probably the most important question. “What does this mean?” 

Steve was quiet at first. It wasn’t a long time, but with nothing but silence taking over the car, it felt like forever. 

“I love being your friend,” He said, turning a little to look at you.

“I love being your friend too,” You told him, meeting his eyes. “You’re my best friend. And I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

“Me neither.” 

“Okay, so, it’s settled,” You said as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “No more kissing.”

“No more kissing,” Steve repeated and shook your hand.

Neither of you pulled away after the obligatory shake to essentially seal this deal or promise or whatever you’d end up calling it. 

Instead, your eyes were still locked on his and a silent conversation played out in a matter of seconds where you both agreed that, fuck it, maybe you two were about to ruin your friendship, but maybe that was an okay thing to do because you simply needed to play out whatever this was. Neither of you wanted to live with the “what ifs.”

You and Steve met in the middle in this very awkward position, coming together like magnets. Your hand dropped from his so that you could fist both of yours in his t-shirt instead, and one of his found your cheek, softly stroking the skin. 

The center console dug into your stomach in the most uncomfortable way, but you couldn’t find it in you to care at all. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath and your forehead fell against Steve’s, you expected regret to hit you this time around, for how quickly you broke the promise that you two had made only moments ago. However, that melancholic feeling didn’t settle in your stomach; it was the opposite, actually. You were hit with a happy giddiness that made you smile as your lips found his again. 

You weren’t entirely sure what exactly this meant for you and Steve— aside from a few fleeting thoughts, you had never properly considered anything romantic with your best friend— but it definitely didn’t feel like things were ruined. If anything, it felt like the beginning of something new entirely, something great. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[honeyhaeya]

(🔐)🖇 ༘ ⋆"How to Date Discreetly"

' ╰┈ "the day that i met you i started dreaming"

' ' 박성훈 x fem!reader

🎧ྀི 'ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Kingston (Faye Webster)

♫⋆₊˚ ﾟ. 'ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre / tags: idol!sunghoon x idol!reader, ice prince x reckless rookie, secret & established relationship, enemies to lovers (kinda), fluff, smut (2nd part) – MDNI, angst (minor), a pinch of comedy ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: NSFW WARNINGS ON CHAPTER 2 (no smut on this part) ! smut, slight jealousy (m), language, detailed explicit scenes, angst (minor), reader on the pill (birth control), mutual hate that’s just actually horny confusion, mild hate (online), – ugh, theyre so in love, its intoxicating ✩‧₊˚ wc: 6472 –1/2 (mini series) ੈ♡ a/n: lol this is peak delusion. dont like, dont read. also, im open for constructive critisism but fact checks or logical expected outcome are out of the picture, come on yall, this is fanfiction. also, wtf. shit, i really made this? hoon is so fucking adorable, argue with me if you disagree :p . uploading part two tomorrow 5pm kst :) part two is up and posted *^★ playlist: kingston (faye webster), lowkey (niki), august (taylor swift), soft spot (keshi), always (daniel caesar), best part (daniel caesar & h.e.r.), almost is never enough (ariana grande & nathan sykes)

dating was never hard for you.

you breezed through high school with a boyfriend for every semester, each one a lesson in love. you weren’t heartless—you did like them. maybe not enough to cry after the breakups, but enough to smile while it lasted.

you were living the easy life. pretty, popular, and always in love with something… or someone.

but all of that changed on a thursday afternoon.

you’d just turned down a free meal from your friends (and it was their treat, ugh) because your sister texted you, “buy the skincare stuff i told you about. only from that store near the station. they run out fast.”

so there you were, dodging pedestrians, phone in hand, a bit annoyed, very hungry.

you sighed, glancing at your screen for the third time—no calls, no new texts.

and then you noticed her.

a woman, maybe mid-thirties, blazer and red lipstick, standing across the sidewalk and watching you.

your brows knit instinctively. weird. you kept walking.

but then she followed.

“excuse me,” she said, heels clicking as she caught up to you.

you turned. “uh… yes?”

she smiled, like she already knew you. “sorry if this is random. i’m a manager at (-) entertainment. and… have you ever thought of becoming an idol?”

you blinked.

“me?”

“you’ve got the face. the vibe. we’re recruiting trainees right now. it’s competitive, but i think you have a real shot.”

you stared. was this real? was she legit?

she pulled out a card, glossy and gold-trimmed. it looked expensive. official.

“call this number,” she said. “auditions are still required, but… i can pull a few strings.”

and just like that, she walked away.

later that night

you sat at the dinner table, card on your lap, phone in your hand, still processing.

“what’s that?” your sister asked, peering over.

“uh… a manager gave it to me,” you muttered. “she wants me to audition. to be a trainee.”

your mom nearly dropped her spoon.

your dad blinked like he misheard.

“a what now?” he asked.

your sister grabbed the card, eyes wide. “no way. (-) entertainment? they’re huge. that’s, like, the company.”

“it’s probably fake,” you said quickly. “i mean, i haven’t even danced in public before.”

your mom smiled gently. “if it’s something you’re curious about… we’ll support you.”

“what if i’m not good enough?”

“then you’ll try. and if it’s not for you, you’ll walk away knowing you tried.”

your sister nudged your arm. “do it, loser. if you debut, i can brag about you.”

you laughed, but your heart was pounding.

a few weeks later, you stood backstage after your audition, heart thumping, palms sweaty.

the evaluator handed your file to someone behind them.

“she’s raw,” the woman murmured. “but i like her. give her the green light.”

that night, you got the call.

you were officially a trainee.

you were late.

again.

you burst into the practice room, sneakers squeaking against the floor, hair sticking to your forehead. seven other trainees glanced up—some sympathetic, some smug. the trainer didn’t even look surprised.

but he did.

sunghoon.

he was leaning against the mirror, arms crossed, black sweatpants, white shirt clinging to him like he’d already been at it for hours. perfect posture. flawless control. and the most judgmental eyes you’ve ever seen.

“this is the third time this week,” he said flatly.

you rolled your eyes, dropping your bag. “thanks for counting, mom.”

a snicker echoed from someone in the back. the trainer sighed.

“five laps. now,” she barked.

you groaned and started running.

sunghoon turned to the trainer. “i don’t know why you waste time on people who can’t take this seriously.”

you stopped mid-lap, heart racing for a new reason.

“excuse me?”

he glanced at you, cool and unbothered. “you heard me.”

“you don’t even know me.”

“i don’t have to. it’s obvious.”

you wanted to throw your shoe at him. or maybe yourself—how dare he look like that while being such an ass?

“you know, not everyone got trained with a silver spoon in their mouth,” you snapped. “some of us have to catch up.”

his jaw clenched. oh. that got to him.

“then maybe catch up quietly.”

later that week

“again!” the vocal coach yelled. “you're off tempo!”

you bit your lip, trying to hide how winded you were. sunghoon stood beside you, breathing steady, voice perfect, hair annoyingly perfect.

when the session ended, you stayed behind, muttering the chorus under your breath, trying to fix it. your body ached, throat dry.

“you’re holding your breath wrong,” he said suddenly.

you jumped. “oh my god—can you not sneak up like that?”

he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded again. why was he always doing that?

“i’m not sneaking. you’re just slow.”

“and you’re just insufferable.”

he walked over, stopped behind you.

“breathe here,” he said, lightly tapping your stomach. “not up here.” he tapped your chest.

you tensed. “if you’re going to insult me again, don’t bother.”

he sighed. not annoyed. tired. softer than you expected.

“look. i don’t think you’re bad. i just think… you’re distracted.”

you turned, suspicious. “and what would you know about me?”

he shrugged. “nothing. yet.”

your heartbeat did the most annoying little skip.

“for next week’s evaluation,” the trainer said, scribbling on the board, “you’ll be performing in pairs.”

groans. whispers. panic.

sunghoon raised his hand, calm as ever. “do we get to choose partners?”

the trainer gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“no.”

and then she said your name.

and then she said his.

dead. silence.

sunghoon’s head snapped toward you. you were already staring, wide-eyed, mouth open like someone just told you santa wasn’t real and sunghoon would be your new stepdad.

“what?” you said.

“no.” he said at the same time.

the trainer arched a brow. “you two clearly have chemistry.”

“hate-mistry,” you muttered.

“professionalism, park,” she said. “and you, too, y/n. if either of you screws this up, you’re both out of the showcase.”

that shut you up real fast.

day one of practicing together

you stood at the center of the room, arms crossed, glaring at him.

he mirrored you, looking about three seconds from snapping.

“you need to follow my lead,” he said.

“and you need to drop your ego.”

“i’ve been training for years.”

“cool, i’ve been dancing since i was five.”

“not the same.”

“let’s find out.”

music blasted through the speaker—some upbeat, sexy number that had no business making this situation worse.

and yet—you kept up. every move. every beat. matching him step for step, hips snapping, body sharp. when you spun and ended up right in front of him, close enough to feel his breath—

he blinked. stunned. just a little.

you smirked.

“not bad,” you said.

his ears went pink.

day three

you both ran the routine again. and again. until sweat dripped from your jaw and your hair clung to your temples.

the trainer clapped slowly from behind.

“didn’t expect that,” she said. “y/n—your control improved. and sunghoon, i’m glad you finally look like you're dancing with someone instead of against them.”

your lips twitched.

he side-eyed you. “don’t let it go to your head.”

you grinned. “you’re just mad i’m good.”

he didn’t respond.

later, as you wiped your face with a towel, he walked over—less guarded. still annoyingly perfect.

“you really haven’t trained before?”

you shook your head. “just picked things up. why?”

he hesitated.

“…you’re a fast learner.”

you looked up, surprised.

“and you don’t hesitate. most new trainees wait for permission to mess up.”

you blinked. “…was that a compliment?”

he smirked, turning away. “no.”

(yes.)

the music cuts. your breath is caught somewhere between your chest and throat. sunghoon’s hand is still on your waist. your head is tilted back, lips just barely parted—and his eyes are on you. unreadable.

nobody moves.

"are they dating or something?" someone whispers too loudly.

"wow?" another trainee mutters.

the trainer exhales like she just witnessed art.

“that…” she starts, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “was beyond what i asked for.”

you try to catch your breath. your body still buzzing from the adrenaline. from the dance. from him.

you don’t look at sunghoon when you mutter, “told you i wasn’t just a pretty face.”

but you feel it—how his grip on you lingers just a beat too long before he lets go.

you’re surrounded before you can even step off the floor. compliments, questions, stares—all of it buzzing in your ears.

“that was insane—”

“i didn’t even know she could dance like that.”

“how did they sync so well?”

“isn’t she new?”

you brush past it. you’re used to attention, sure. but this? this is different. this is real.

you find your way to a bench, just as someone flops down next to you.

“you’re kind of a show-off,” yeonjun says, nudging your arm.

you scoff. “jealous?”

“nah, just impressed. you looked like you were born on stage.”

you grin. “thanks.”

he pauses. “...but dancing that close to sunghoon? bold move.”

you roll your eyes. “wasn’t like i had a choice.”

across the room, sunghoon watches. sighing.

“you good?” jay asks, sipping his water bottle.

sunghoon’s averted. “he’s touching her.”

jay raises an eyebrow, finding you and a man together on a bench. “you mean yeonjun?”

“who else would i mean?”

jay blinks. “you do realize you sound like a jealous boyfriend right now?”

sunghoon scoffs. “i’m not jealous.”

“sure.”

“i’m not,” he repeats, harsher this time.

you pass by just in time to catch that last line.

you freeze. look back. sunghoon doesn’t see you.

but now you’ve seen him. and something about that look on his face—it doesn’t match the version of him you’ve built in your head.

your knee twinges wrong during a routine—small misstep, sharp sting. you hiss, stumble, fall back on the floor.

the door creaks open.

you tense—expecting a trainer or staff. instead, it’s sunghoon. of course it’s sunghoon.

“what the hell are you doing here alone?” he asks, stepping in.

you glare. “i could ask you the same thing.”

he walks over anyway. crouches beside you. “you could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“i didn’t,” you mutter, but the way you’re holding your leg says otherwise.

without another word, he grabs the first aid kit from the wall. wraps your knee like he’s done it a hundred times before.

you watch him. confused. curious. quiet.

“…you really care about this, huh?” he says eventually, not looking at you.

“about what?”

“training. performing. dancing.”

you shrug. “is that surprising?”

“a little.”

“why? because i don’t break my back trying to look perfect in front of the trainers?”

“because you make it look easy.”

you pause. “it’s not. i just don’t let anyone see when it’s hard.”

that makes him glance at you. just for a second. then—

“…you’re good, you know.”

you blink. “what?”

“you’re good. at this. i just didn’t want to admit it before.”

you laugh, breathless. “was that… a compliment?”

he stands up, tossing the bandage wrapper in the bin.

“don’t get used to it,” he mutters.

but he doesn’t leave.

and neither do you.

sunghoon was irritated. no—scratch that. he was pissed.

you were laughing at something yeonjun said, all wide-eyed and glossy-lipped, head tilted back like he just told the funniest joke in existence. maybe he did. maybe he didn’t. either way, hoon didn’t like the view from across the room.

he wasn’t sure what ticked him off more—the way your fingers brushed yeonjun’s arm, or the way yeonjun let them.

“you good?” jay asked beside him, noticing the stiff jaw, the tight grip on his water bottle.

“fine.”

a lie.

jay wasn’t stupid.

“you’ve got a weird definition of fine if it includes staring daggers at yeonjun’s face.”

sunghoon didn’t respond. just looked away. jay chuckled.

“she’s cute, huh.”

hoon scoffed. “please. she’s a walking red flag.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. too bold. too flirty. i don’t get how she always gets praise like that.”

jay grinned knowingly. “you mean, praise like she danced better than you yesterday?”

sunghoon gave him a flat look. jay laughed again. “man, just admit it. you like her.”

what he didn’t know was that you were behind the door, holding your breath. oh, you heard that. every word.

so the next day? you stepped on the gas.

“sunghoon,” you greeted, your voice all sugar and sin. “nice to see you glaring at me from across the room again. missed my face that much?”

his eyes narrowed. “you wish.”

“oh, i know you do,” you said with a smirk, stepping just a little too close. “you get jealous so easily. it’s kinda cute.”

“you’re delusional.”

“mm, maybe. but i’m also winning this little game we have.”

“what game?”

“oh, so you do admit we’re playing one.”

he didn’t answer. you leaned in, lips near his ear.

“catch up, sunghoon. or i’ll flirt with someone else again.”

the hallway was dark except for the faint glow bleeding under one door.

you already knew it was him.

you hesitated, then knocked—lightly, like a whisper.

inside, the music wasn’t playing. just silence. and when you opened the door and peeked in, you found him sitting with his back against the mirror, sweat-drenched shirt clinging to his skin, eyes heavy like they hadn’t rested in days.

he looked up. tired. annoyed, maybe.

“what do you want?”

you raised a brow. “aw, you missed me that much?”

he didn’t laugh. just huffed, dropping his head back against the mirror.

you walked in anyway.

“heard your team’s debut’s getting real close,” you said, plopping down next to him on the floor, knees brushing. “congrats.”

he didn’t respond.

you looked at him sideways, voice gentler now. “you okay?”

he nodded, but his fingers were twitchy—fiddling with his rings, bouncing his knee. anxious.

“you don’t look okay.”

he let out a breath. it shook a little.

you leaned forward, peeking at his face. “when was the last time you even slept?”

“don’t remember.”

you reached into your bag and tossed him a mini water bottle. “hydrate, superstar.”

he caught it, glanced at you. “why are you even here?”

you shrugged. “i could say i was worried. or that i heard music earlier and came to see what you were working on.”

you paused. “but honestly? you looked like a kicked puppy lately. i thought i’d put you out of your misery.”

he snorted. actually snorted.

progress.

you beamed. “there it is! that cute little laugh.”

“wasn’t a laugh.”

“was a laugh,” you said firmly. “i have excellent ears. dancer ears. and that? that was a giggle.”

he shook his head, hiding the smile pulling at his lips.

you fell quiet for a bit. then, in a softer voice:

“must be scary. having everything come at you at once. pressure. cameras. fans. and barely anyone who really knows what you’re going through.”

his jaw tensed.

you leaned your head back, mirroring him.

“i think about it sometimes. how that might be me in a year or two. training ‘til i drop. debuting and... still feeling alone.”

you glanced at him. “but hey. at least you’re not alone right now, right?”

sunghoon turned to you.

your face was relaxed. you weren’t being kind out of pity. this wasn’t charity. it was just... you.

for a second, he forgot about everything else.

“you’re really annoying, you know,” he mumbled.

“and yet you look like you’d die without me.”

he looked away, but not before you saw the smile he tried to hide again.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

the hallway was loud again. busy. debut-season chaos in full swing. managers barking schedules, stylists dragging suitcases, trainees practicing lines and formations in every corner.

you stood off to the side, sipping banana milk like you were just background noise.

“look alive, rookie,” someone called, nearly bumping into you.

you gave a lazy salute. “yes sir.”

just another day of not being noticed.

sunghoon passed by with his group—a cluster of stylists, staff, and busy energy. he didn’t look your way.

not that you cared.

but you didn't see the way he glanced back at you.

“people come and go,” you muttered, raising your banana milk like a toast. “that’s showbiz, baby.”

and then you tripped on a suitcase a stylist must've left there, you didn't see or too distracted to notice.

the banana milk went flying. your knees nearly kissed the floor. and when you looked up—sunghoon was right there.

of course he was.

he blinked down at you, eyebrows raised, and said nothing.

you, sprawled like a tragic mop, just smiled. “hi.”

he blinked, eyebrows raised. “you good?”

you held up the now half-empty drink. “well, the banana milk isn't.”

he bit back a smile. “that’s your third time tripping in front of me this month.”

you raised a brow. “you count my embarrassments now?”

“it's starting to feel intentional.”

you got up, brushing yourself off. “please, if i were trying to get your attention, i’d go bigger. maybe a cartwheel. or a dramatic monologue.”

“the floor dive was convincing.”

you smiled. “i like to keep it original.” then, a little quieter, “you’ve been busy lately.”

his smile faltered just slightly.

you waved it off. “no, seriously. you’ve got fans and press and a glam team. i’ve got... banana milk.”

“sounds like a solid support system.”

you laughed, but your smile faded when he glanced down the hall. his team was already moving.

“you should go,” you said. “hair and makeup’s waiting.”

he hesitated. “you sure?”

you nodded. “go be famous.”

he looked at you like he wanted to say more. but then he just nodded, and walked away.

you watched him leave. then looked down at your shoe.

still sticky.

“tragic,” you whispered.

a few days later

the vending machine blinked angrily at the girl in front of it.

the girl—probably thirteen, maybe fourteen—had her tiny fists clenched and was glaring up at the machine like it had insulted her ancestors.

you crouched beside her, trying not to laugh. “did the evil robot eat your money again?”

“yes!” she huffed. “i pressed the peach drink but it gave me black coffee! that’s not even close!”

you gasped, clutching your chest. “that’s betrayal. you’ve just been betrayed.”

“i don’t even like coffee! It tastes like burnt sadness!”

you dramatically nodded. “we must avenge you.”

she grinned. “you think I can sue?”

“only if you’ve got a lawyer. or at least a really angry eonni (older sister) .”

she tilted her head. “you’ll do.”

at that moment, you kicked the machine gently (totally just a little tap, you’re not trying to go viral for violence). and... silence. the drink didn't fall. awkward.

the little girl snorted, holding her laugh with all her might.

you smiled, laughing under your breath and kicking the vending machine again, a little love tap and—miraculously—the peach drink clunked down into the bin.

both of you screamed.

“victory!!” “you’re a vending machine master!”

you laughed. “told you i can save you.”

a low chuckle behind you made you freeze.

you turned, slow-motion style, to see sunghoon standing there with a water bottle. heeseung stood beside him, sweaty from practice and grinning.

heeseung gave a thumbs-up. “iconic vending machine diplomacy.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “burnt sadness, huh?”

you stood up straight. “i—she didn’t mean—”

“she meant it,” the girl said proudly, sipping her drink. “she says it tastes like regret in a cup.”

you stared at her, betrayed. “you were supposed to have my back.”

sunghoon laughed. like, really laughed. the kind that made your stomach twist a little.

“didn’t know you were mentoring now.”

you shrugged. “somebody’s gotta fight for the little ones. didn't know you were keeping tabs on me now.”

heeseung grabbed his drink, still chuckling. “i’m hanging out here more often.”

sunghoon lingered, eyes still on you. “you’re good with kids.”

you blinked. “oh.”

he smiled, soft and small, before heading off. “try not to start a vending machine riot next time.”

you stood there, stuck.

the girl tugged your sleeve. “...you like him, huh?”

you looked down at her. “no idea what you’re talking about.”

she narrowed her eyes. “peach tea never lies.”

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

“i feel like i keep seeing her everywhere lately,” sunghoon said later, on their way back to the practice room.

heeseung gave him a look. “more like you keep noticing her.”

sunghoon didn’t answer right away. just stared ahead, thoughtful.

heeseung nudged him. “you’re smiling, dude.”

sunghoon wiped the smile off his face immediately. “no, i’m not.”

“you’re so obvious.”

he didn’t say anything for a while.

but later, he’d find himself glancing down hallways a little more. wondering if banana milk girl would be there.

just... wondering.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

you hadn’t cried in weeks. not since training got serious.

but tonight? the moment the studio door clicked shut behind you, the tears came.

your hands were sore. your voice was gone. and no matter how hard you trained, you still felt behind—like everyone else had a head start and you were just catching up, slipping on a treadmill that wouldn't stop.

the mirror felt cruel. it always did when you weren’t at your best.

and then—

a knock. soft, careful.

you wiped your face fast, spinning around like nothing happened. “practice room’s full. try the one on the second floor.”

“already did.”

your breath hitched.

sunghoon stood in the doorway, hoodie pulled over his head, cap low. casual. unbothered. he should be prepping for stage performances, meetings, shoots—life after debut.

but he was here.

you blinked. “aren’t you like, super busy?”

he shrugged, stepping in. “don’t tell my manager.”

you let out a small laugh. it cracked.

he sat beside you like he belonged there. like no time had passed.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he said softly.

“i’ve been busy.”

“so have i.”

you didn’t say anything.

he nudged you. “talk to me.”

you bit your cheek. “what’s there to talk about?”

he looked at you, really looked at you.

“you’re scared.”

you looked away. “i’m not.”

“you are.” he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. his fingers lingered just a second longer. “i was too.”

you met his eyes. they weren’t teasing or smug. just... warm.

“hoon, i’m the last trainee to enter and they expect me to keep up with girls who’ve been doing this for years. i feel like i’m constantly proving that i deserve to be here.”

“you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“except everyone.”

he took your hand—held it. his thumb brushed yours like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

“you think i didn’t feel the same before i debuted?” he asked, voice hushed. “you think i don’t still feel like that sometimes? like i’m faking it, or like i’m not enough?”

you stared at him.

“you’re more than enough,” he said. “you were the only one who saw me before all this. let me be that for you now.”

and just like that, the tears were back. but you didn’t hide this time.

you leaned into him. he let you. his arms came around you like a shield, like home, like this was always meant to happen.

“this doesn’t mean i’m falling for you or anything,” you mumbled into his chest.

he smiled against your hair. “sure. and i’m not hopelessly in love with you either.” it was a lie.

ONE MONTH LATER

your body ached. your shirt clung to your back. the playlist on the studio speakers had looped for the third time now, but you weren’t done yet. not even close.

you wiped sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, hair tied up haphazardly like your last brain cell had done it for you. two turns, down, pop—reset. again.

then the studio door opened.

you blinked, already preparing to snap at whoever thought now was a great time to interrupt—only to freeze.

sunghoon.

cap on. mask half-down. that dumb post-debut glow still clinging to him like glitter. he looked like a k-drama lead showing up in your lowest moment with no right to be that good-looking.

you squinted. “are you... lost?”

he didn’t smile.

he stepped in, quiet. closed the door behind him. took a breath.

“go on,” you said, gesturing vaguely at your unfinished choreo. “you came to judge my pirouettes or what?”

he scratched the back of his neck. “actually…”

pause.

“i wanted to ask you something.”

you raised a brow, waiting. arms crossed. heart racing.

“do you...” he hesitated, then stepped closer. “wanna go out with me?”

you blinked.

was he out of his damn mind?

you looked down at yourself. hair in chaos. sweat-drenched shirt. left sock halfway sliding off. “like... right now?”

he laughed softly, but there was a nervous tremble to it. “no. i mean... soon. when you’re free. like, a real date. just us.”

you stared at him. the air felt too quiet.

he looked serious. almost nervous. not like the usual sarcastic, biting sunghoon who annoyed you daily—this was the one who held your hand when no one else was looking. the one who showed up when you were breaking.

you let out a long sigh, walking past him to grab your water bottle. you took a sip. gave him a look.

“sunghoon,” you said flatly, “you realize i’m one month away from possibly debuting through a televised hunger game for trainees, right?”

he gave you a sheepish smile. “yeah.”

“and you’re busy being an idol or whatever.”

“also yeah.”

you raised an eyebrow. “then why now?”

he didn’t flinch. “because I like you.”

…

you stared at him. like, really stared. and god—he was really standing there. asking you out while you looked like a dehydrated noodle. and it should’ve been dumb. it should’ve been ill-timed.

but he meant it. that was the stupid part.

you sighed again, dramatic. wiped your face.

then, you looked up at him with a small smirk.

“fine,” you said, shrugging. “one date.”

his eyes lit up.

“but if it sucks, I’m ghosting you.”

“deal.”

you narrowed your eyes. “and you’re paying.”

“always.”

“and no kissing—unless I say so.”

he grinned. “so you will say so.”

“shut up,” you muttered, tossing your towel at him—and missing.

ONE WEEK LATER

first secret date

you almost laughed when you saw him.

cap pulled down low. hoodie up. mask on. sunglasses too. like he was about to rob the convenience store instead of take you on a date.

he looked left, then right. then spotted you.

and you—well.

you were in simple jeans, a tucked white tee, lowkey makeup, and your hair done just enough to look effortlessly good. no flash. no glam. just enough to look soft and gorgeously dangerous.

sunghoon blinked under his cap. “wow.”

you tilted your head. “wow?”

“i thought we said casual.”

you smirked. “i am casual.”

he blinked again. “casual doesn’t usually knock the air outta someone’s lungs.”

you bit your lip to hide the smile. “then breathe better.”

he laughed under his mask, tugging it down slightly as you both started walking. he had chosen a small side street near the han river, early evening, sun soft in the sky. not too crowded. not too exposed.

it wasn’t fancy. no candlelit tables. no bouquets. just two kids sneaking time together between a debut and a dream.

and somehow, it was perfect.

“are you really allowed out?” you asked, nudging him. “i don’t wanna be the reason you get exiled from your group.”

he scoffed. “i’ve snuck out for worse.”

you squinted. “like what?”

“like ramen.”

you cackled. “you’re risking your career for cup noodles?”

“if they’re spicy enough, yeah.”

you rolled your eyes, but your hand brushed against his as you walked. he noticed. he didn’t say anything—but he didn’t move it away either.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

later, on a park bench near the river

you sat next to him, knees barely touching. the sun had dipped lower now, painting the water gold.

he was quiet.

so were you.

until—

“you know,” he said, “i wasn’t sure this would work.”

you looked at him.

“i’m busy. you’re about to be busier. and all the pressure—fans, survival shows, cameras…” he exhaled. “we’re barely even normal people anymore.”

you nodded slowly, biting your lip. “so… why’d you ask me out then?”

he looked at you.

“because even when I’m not sure about anything else… I’m sure about you.”

you blinked.

okay. rude.

he was not allowed to drop lines like that while you were emotionally vulnerable, sweaty from practice last night, and wearing your second best sneakers.

you tried to play it off, heart punching your ribs. “you’ve been practicing that in the mirror, huh?”

he grinned. “nah. you’re just that inspiring.”

you stared at him, lips twitching.

then, casually, you reached over and hooked your pinky with his.

that was it.

that was all.

he squeezed gently.

after the date — back at the dorms

you got a text. just as you slipped into the trainee dorm’s hallway.

sunghoon: home safe? you: just got in. you? sunghoon: still outside. walking around like a loser who just got his crush to say yes you: you are a loser. but like. a cute one i guess sunghoon: say that again i’ll screenshot it you: goodnight, hoonie sunghoon: night, pretty girl.

you stared at the screen, face flushed.

then threw your pillow at the bed and let out a scream into your blanket.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

you barely made it through the last eight-count. your legs were jelly, your ponytail was falling apart, and your throat was screaming for water—but more than anything, your brain was fried. you didn’t even notice someone step into the practice room until you heard a low, familiar voice.

“psst. trainee of the year.”

you turned, and there he was.

sunghoon.

with a hoodie pulled up and a mischievous glint in his eye… holding a snack-sized bag of chips and a chocolate bar like they were illegal contraband.

you blinked. “hoon—what are you doing here?!”

he smirked. “looking out for someone who forgot how to rest.”

“i’m on a diet,” you whispered, eyeing the chocolate like it was your long-lost lover.

he stepped closer. “then pretend i didn’t bring snacks. just come with me for five minutes.”

you followed him to the vending machine hallway—dead center between the boys’ and girls’ dorm floors. no cctv. no trainers.

just buzzing machines, flickering fluorescent light, and the sound of your heart thudding louder than it should.

he leaned against the wall, opening the chocolate and breaking off a square.

you stared at it.

“i said i’m on a diet.”

“i said i don’t care.” he offered it again.

you took it. obviously.

a beat of silence passed. then another. you sighed.

“i’ve never dated someone in secret before,” you mumbled, fingers fiddling with the wrapper. “do you think it’ll work out?”

sunghoon didn’t hesitate.

“I’m actually an expert in secrets…” he said, tone suddenly lower, softer.

he leaned in, closing the already-small space between you.

“...especially dating.”

your breath hitched.

he was close—too close—his scent all cozy detergent and warm skin, his lips ghosting a little too close to your cheek.

“i’ll teach you how.”

you were in the middle of laughing—like, full-on cracking up with the other trainees in the dance room. someone made a joke about one of the trainers being secretly in love with their reflection, and you had tears in your eyes.

you didn’t even realize your phone buzzed until you were finally alone, tying your hair up again, everyone else already off to shower or sleep.

sunghoon: u free? sunghoon: dance room. come before i fall asleep on the floor.

you stared. then blinked. then immediately bolted.

the second you opened the door to his group’s practice room, you saw him sitting there on the floor, back against the mirror, head tilted up like he’d been waiting hours.

he looked up.

“hey.”

just that one word and you were melting. it’s been weeks. actual weeks. and yet, there he was—same hoodie, same tired smile, same boy who made you forget how to breathe.

you walked in slowly. “so you miss me, huh?”

he scoffed, but the smile said it all.

“i’m not gonna lie. i might’ve forgotten what you looked like.”

“rude.”

“well, i remember now.” his eyes swept over you.

you rolled your eyes, trying not to combust.

you sat next to him, shoulders barely touching, and it was quiet for a second. not awkward. just… warm.

“you’ve been working hard,” you said quietly.

“you too,” he murmured. “i see it in the practice logs.”

you raised a brow. “you stalk me?”

he smirked. “maybe.”

he stood up a little while later, stretched, then turned to you again.

“come here.”

“why?”

“just—” he waved you over.

you got up, brushing imaginary dust off your sweatpants. “if you prank me, i swear—”

“i’m not. just come.”

he walked backward, tugging you gently by the wrist until you both slipped behind the tall mirror divider that split the practice room—probably put there for storage or stage simulation. barely any light. no one would check there.

you opened your mouth to ask what is this, but he was already leaning in.

and then—

footsteps.

two voices. familiar.

heeseung. jake.

you froze. sunghoon cursed under his breath, then pulled you closer—closer—until your back hit the mirror and his body shielded you completely.

your heart did a full somersault.

“shhh,” he whispered, breath fanning across your ear. “they’re just grabbing their stuff.”

heeseung’s voice echoed faintly. “you think sunghoon left already?”

“probably. dude’s always staying too long.”

you held your breath, heartbeat racing. he was so close. his hands rested on either side of your head, and he kept glancing down at you like he might actually—

once the door shut and the voices faded, silence fell.

you stared at him.

he stared right back.

then he grinned.

“i wasn’t gonna kiss you, you know.”

“…right.”

“…but now i kind of want to.”

you raised a brow. “you sure about that? we haven’t even had a second date.”

“so?” he whispered, leaning in again. “we’re behind a mirror. does it count?”

you were this close to shoving him playfully, but your breath hitched when he tilted his head just enough.

his lips brushed yours.

soft. tentative.

dangerous.

but then you kissed him back.

just once. quick. stupid. electric.

you pulled away with a shaky breath. “you’re so annoying.”

“you like it.”

“i hate it.”

he grinned. “i’ll teach you how.”

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

the call started with you lying flat on your bed, hair down, face fresh from a shower, hoodie oversized and barely clinging to one shoulder.

“you look tired,” you mumbled, frowning into the screen.

sunghoon was on his dorm bed too, hair pushed back with a headband, cheeks still flushed from rehearsal. “you look pretty.”

you blinked. “that’s not the point—”

“but it’s true,” he said, smiling. “also. i am tired. i miss you.”

you flopped your head dramatically against your pillow. “ugh, i miss you too. stupid idol schedules.”

he laughed. then sighed. then just stared at you for a second longer than necessary.

the silence was comfortable. until your phone buzzed.

you glanced at the notification. trainee gc.

someone: you looked cool in practice today someone else: your form’s improved a lot lately and then: wanna hangout sometime? just chill, talk about training n stuff?

sunghoon raised a brow. “who’s that?”

you snorted, a little too amused. “hm? just the group chat.”

“your phone’s lighting up a lot,” he said, too casually.

you tilted your screen to the side, showing the flood of not-so-subtle messages.

sunghoon squinted. “that guy. the one who complimented your jumps last time. he’s the one who sent the hangout thing, right?”

you blinked slowly. “hoon. are you jealous?”

“no,” he lied, immediately, like a liar.

“you so are.”

“i’m not,” he repeated, suddenly invested in adjusting the blanket on his lap.

you smirked. “you’re sulking.”

he didn’t respond.

“hoon~”

“i’m just saying,” he said, voice all pouty now, “he doesn’t even stretch properly before practice. what does he know.”

you wheezed.

“oh my god.”

“i’m just—i’m just watching out for you, okay?” he said, flustered, biting his lip. “i don’t like how they act around you.”

you rolled onto your back, giggling into your sleeve.

“you’re adorable.”

“no, i’m serious,” he grumbled. “i can’t even talk to you in public, but they’re out here throwing compliments like confetti.”

you peeked at the screen again. his lips were pursed. eyes narrowed. sulk level: maximum.

you reached out like you could actually pinch his cheek through the screen.

“you know you’re the only one i want to hear compliments from, right?”

his gaze softened.

“...really?”

“really,” you said, smiling. “but also, you’re kinda hot when you’re jealous. not gonna lie.”

he hid his face in his hoodie.

“stop.”

“never.”

you grinned.

“hoooon,” you whined through the screen, “can’t you just teleport here? like now? please? i’ll pay.”

he snorted. “what with? ramen and protein bars?”

“yes.”

he smiled, soft and lazy, eyes crinkling. “i wish i could.”

“me too.”

your voice had dropped, just a little. tired. yearning. and his fingers twitched like he wished he could reach through the screen and pull you into his chest.

but then—

“hyung! dinner’s ready!”

jungwon’s voice, right outside his door.

sunghoon groaned, rolling onto his side with a quiet, “just five more minutes!”

“are you still on call with y/n?” jungwon asked, then cracked the door open like he already knew the answer.

sunghoon quickly angled the phone to his chest, like a whole dad caught texting his crush in middle school.

but jungwon just leaned in and waved toward the screen. “hi, y/n!”

“oh my god,” you said, hiding your face with a hand, laughing. “hi wonnie.”

then sunoo appeared in the hallway too, leaning over jungwon’s shoulder. “tell her i say hi too!”

“i did already!” jungwon argued.

niki popped in last, chewing on something. “you’re not slick, hyung. we all know you’ve been heart-eyes emoji for like, three months now.”

sunghoon nearly died on the spot.

“get out,” he hissed.

“we’re going,” sunoo grinned. “but don’t kiss through the screen or anything. the wi-fi’s lagging.”

and they vanished.

you wheezed. “your roommates are literally chaos.”

“they’re menaces.”

“but cute menaces.”

“fine,” he mumbled, trying not to smile again. “but i’m the cutest, right?”

“you’re the cutest and the hottest.”

“and you’re the reason my heart’s doing cardio without moving.”

you blinked. “that was so cheesy.”

“i know,” he grinned.

a few nights later – secret car hangout edition

he picked you up in a manager’s car, hoodie low, cap on, mask covering most of his face. when you slid into the front seat, your eyes met and for a second neither of you said anything.

then you both burst into giggles like schoolkids sneaking out past curfew.

“you’re insane,” you whispered, shutting the door.

“you’re prettier in person,” he whispered back.

“you’re biased.”

“i’m in love.”

you froze. blinked. stared at him.

he blinked back, wide-eyed. “i mean—i—i said that out loud, didn’t i.”

you bit your lip, suddenly warm.

“yeah,” you said. “but… same.”

his hand reached for yours between the seats. fingers laced. thumbs brushing.

you two just sat there for a while. soft music playing. headlights passing. the world rushing around you, but in here, time stilled.

“you’re leaving again tomorrow?” you asked.

he nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “fanmeet. then music show. then filming.”

“you’re everywhere.”

“except here,” he murmured. “with you.”

your heart tugged.

“then make the most of tonight.”

he turned to look at you.

eyes locked.

“yeah?” he whispered.

you nodded.

then you climbed over the center console like it was nothing, and next thing you knew, you were on his lap, hoodie and all, faces close, lips brushing. giggling quietly, almost getting caught when a van drove past and made the headlights flash inside.

you kissed like the world didn’t know.

you laughed like no one could hear.

and when he pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, breath warm, he whispered—

“i’ll teach you how.”

then just like that, you two were back to kissing. he kept a hand on your chin to angle your head in the perfect position. his tongue slipping in your lips, tasting you like he'll never get a chance to again.

and that's when you two made out recklessly in the car, breath heavy, and in love.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

the survival show started before either of you could even process it.

you were waking up at 5 a.m., rehearsing until midnight, crash-napping in dance studios, living off energy drinks and willpower.

sunghoon was across the world—london, tokyo, la, award shows, en-oclock, fanmeets, and endless nights of soundchecks.

the phone calls slowed.

the messages became one-word replies.

then one-sided.

then nothing.

but not because you stopped caring.

it was just life.

it was debut season.

dreams were happening in real time.

you both were flying so fast that you didn’t even realize you were flying past each other.

months later

you were back. not just in seoul, not just in the same time zone—but here.

and you were debuting.

you made it into the final group.

four girls. you were the visual, the ace, the one people couldn’t stop looking at.

and the moment you saw his name pop up on your schedule—same venue, different floors—you knew.

you had to see him.

so you did.

your steps were slow but steady. nerves in your chest like fireworks waiting to go off.

he looked up when you entered the hallway. paused.

you smiled.

his mouth parted. just a little.

then you ran—fast, too fast—and wrapped your arms around his middle like you were afraid he’d disappear again.

his arms came around you instantly. like muscle memory. like home.

“i made it,” you whispered into his chest, voice trembling.

he didn’t say anything at first. just held you tighter.

then—

“i know,” he said quietly.

you blinked up at him.

and he smiled, eyes a little glassy, cheeks a little pink. “i saw every performance.”

you laughed through your tears. “you did?”

“mhm.” he nodded. “even the boot camp episode. and your level test. and the one where you cried after your vocals cracked—”

“shut up.”

“i cried too.”

“shut up.”

“i saved the fancam.”

you slapped his shoulder, but your grin couldn’t be wiped off.

“and i saw yours,” you whispered, pressing your palm to his chest like you could feel all the places he grew while you were away. “every award. every encore. every fancam. you were so… amazing.”

“you too,” he murmured. “we both made it.”

and for a second, it didn’t matter that the world was watching.

that you had bodyguards and managers and contracts now.

that there were rules and rumors and cameras always watching.

because right here, in this small hallway of a massive building—

it was just the two of you again.

“missed you,” you said.

“teach me how to get over you,” he whispered.

and you shook your head.

“no,” you whispered back. “i’ll teach you how to keep me.”

a/n: posting part 2 tomorrow 5pm kst ! if you want to be tagged, please reblog so you can be added (that would help me much too hh). i already have a reserved taglist, so if you want to register, just click my forms :>> loveyallsosomuchh

chapter 2 is posted !

<to read next chapter tap the underlined>

taglist: @kpoplover-19 @kpoppiesofinternet

[m34tthews]

current boyfriend — the hughes

an —this trend is soo funny i couldn’t help myself

masterlist

QUINN

your phone is propped up low on the kitchen counter, angled perfectly to catch the shot. the comments have been relentless — please do the current boyfriend trend with quinn, he’s gonna be so confused lol, we need his reaction.

you didn’t want to mess with him like this. not him. but the opportunity was perfect.

he’s still wearing the hoodie he threw on after his shower, sleeves pushed up, focused and gentle as he plates your dinner. the smell of garlic, lemon, and parmesan fills the room. he’s been in the kitchen for almost an hour, soft music playing, asking you to stay out until it’s done.

now, he sets the plate down in front of you with a proud, shy smile and leans down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“here you go, baby.”

you smile sweetly and pick up your phone as the plate is placed infront of you.

“look what my current boyfriend made me,” you say casually to the camera.

his body freezes behind you.

“…current?” he repeats.

you keep the bit going, biting into your pasta like you didn’t just cause minor heartbreak. “yeah. he’s so talented, huh?”

quinn shifts beside you, arms crossing lightly over his chest. “what do you mean current? like… is there an expiration date i don’t know about?”

you nod solemnly, playing it all the way through. “i mean… things happen. people change. contracts expire.”

he squints. “contracts? i didn’t sign anything.”

“well,” you hum, twirling your fork in the pasta, “this relationship has about three weeks left on it. depends on your performance review.”

he just stares at you now. silent. betrayed. lips parted in disbelief. “are you actually serious right now?”

you finally crack a smile. “no, i’m not serious,” you laugh. “you should see your face.”

he doesn’t laugh back. he stays exactly where he is, hovering over your shoulder, looking completely heartbroken but trying to act like he’s not.

you set your fork down immediately. “quinn…”

he doesn’t respond, just kind of leans there. still in the same spot, eyes down, his arms still folded but looser now.

you turn in your chair and reach up to grab his hoodie gently, pulling him closer. he lets you. doesn’t even resist, just sighs and wraps his arms around your shoulders when you hug him, chin resting near your temple.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper. “it was a trend. everyone begged me to do it.”

“you’re lucky i love you,” he mumbles, still not pulling back.

“you do love me,” you smile, hugging him tighter. “so much that you made me pasta and suffered emotional damage.”

he laughs into your hair, the sound muffled and soft. “never trusting your tiktoks again.”

you smile into his chest. “that’s fair.”

JACK

you know exactly what you’re doing.

jack’s sprawled out on the couch in sweats and a devils hoodie, hair messy from his post-practice shower, arm draped behind your shoulders like he owns the place. he’s barely paying attention, scrolling aimlessly on his phone with the tv playing some random series you’re both half-watching.

you quietly flip your phone camera on, start recording, and glance up at him.

“i’m here with my current boyfriend,” you say into the mic, voice light, eyes innocent.

there’s a beat.

jack doesn’t even turn his head. just freezes. then lowers his phone slowly.

“wait.” he squints. “what the hell did you just say?”

you suppress a grin. “what? i said i’m here with my current boyfriend.”

he snatches your phone mid-recording and pauses the tiktok, staring at you like you just told him you were leaving the country tomorrow with a stranger.

“current boyfriend?” he repeats, louder this time. “why would you say current like that?”

“jack…”

“no, no, no. what is that supposed to mean?” he’s full-on sitting up now, eyebrows high, hands gesturing like you just ruined his entire peace. “current implies there’s gonna be a next. and there isn’t a next. do you understand me?”

you blink, biting the inside of your cheek. “it’s a tiktok trend.”

he scoffs. “i don’t care if it’s a government-issued announcement. don’t put that into the universe.”

you start laughing, but he’s not done. now he’s up on his knees, pointing at you like he’s giving a lecture.

“let me make one thing very clear,” he says, deadly serious. “if i die—if i die—you are going to be alone forever.”

“jack—”

“no, don’t ‘jack’ me. alone. forever. end of discussion.”

you’re doubled over now, laughing into the couch pillow.

“and if you do get another boyfriend?” he leans in closer, wild-eyed. “i’ll haunt both of you. your dreams, your breakfast, your netflix queue. every time he kisses you, the lights will flicker.”

“oh my god—”

“and if he tries to make you dinner?” jack snorts. “the stove’s getting possessed.”

you finally pull the phone back, still breathless, still grinning, and stop the recording for real. he flops back against the couch dramatically, arms crossed, muttering something about “current boyfriend, my ass.”

you crawl over into his lap and press a kiss to his jaw. “you’re my only boyfriend.”

“forever?” he mumbles, eyes still narrowed.

“forever.”

he nods slowly. “good. because i’m serious. the haunting thing? that’s not a threat. it’s a promise.”

LUKE

you’re lounging on the couch in luke’s hoodie, his legs stretched across your lap as he scrolls on his phone. it’s late, the apartment is dim, and your tiktok is already recording when you say it:

“here with my current boyfriend.”

he doesn’t even look up right away. just blinks at his phone, takes a sip of water, then casually says, “that’s funny. i’m here with my current girlfriend, too.”

your head snaps toward him.

“what?”

he finally meets your eyes, totally unfazed. “yeah. she’s great. cool vibes. might keep her for a little.”

you stare at him. “luke.”

he shrugs. “depends on how this week goes.”

your jaw drops. he’s joking. you know he’s joking. but he’s also not blinking, and now you’re staring at him, heart skipping, eyes narrowing.

he keeps going. “and if it doesn’t work out, i already downloaded hinge.”

“luke trevor hughes!” you gasp, shoving his leg off you as you stand up. “you’re actually unbelievable—i’m breaking up with you.”

“that’s not my middle name” he replies nonchalantly. still not giving into her antics

he watches you stomp toward the hallway, one arm crossed lazily behind his head, the other still holding his phone. “oh no,” he says dryly. “please don’t leave me.”

you’re already halfway to the bedroom when he suddenly drops his phone, stands, and catches you around the waist with a quick, easy pull.

“nope,” he says, spinning you around and pulling you back into his chest like it’s nothing. “get back here.”

“let go of me,” you mumble, still pouting, trying to fight a smile.

“never,” he grins, peppering kisses across your cheek. “not letting my dramatic, jealous, adorable current girlfriend storm off in my hoodie.”

you groan. “stop calling me that.”

he laughs against your cheek. “why? you are my current girlfriend.”

“you’re such a menace. i hate you,” you mumble, arms folding as he holds you tight.

“yeah,” he smirks, resting his chin on your shoulder. “but i’m your menace.”

you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. he kisses the corner of your mouth, proud of himself.

“you’re going to have to make this up with a lot of cuddles and kisses” she comments with her face still riddled with annoyance.

“let’s start now” he nuzzles into her next before leading them back to the couch.

© 2025 M34TTHEWS

[captain-barnes-writes]

Mine ( Lewis Hamilton )

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader (with a bit of Jude Bellingham)

Type: Insta au

Face Claim: Camila Morrone

Warnings: just a jealous Lewis hehehe

When Lewis Hamilton starts dating someone equally famous as he is, he is struck with how much male attention she gets and has to lay his claim.

LewisHamilton posted a story

Replies

User I love the view (you)

User 😭

User the freaking cutest omfg

Charlesleclerc let’s play chess

YourUsername im right next to you my handsome scrumptious man ily so much

KimiAntonelli I’m landing in Paris tomorrow!!

User you look so sweet 😭I literally can’t

User this is the type of stare you give to your significant other

DanielRicciardo don’t stare at me like this 👁️👄👁️

YourUsername posted a story

Replies

Yourbestfriend must be nice 👀 i miss youuu

YourUsername I miss you, see you in a few days🫶

LewisHamilton even looking away you look so pretty

User we love a well traveled queen

User it’d be so funny if you ran into Lewis Hamilton, he’s literally there too! My two worlds colliding 🤭

KylianMbappe Dinner?

Liked by JudeBellingham,MatsHummels, ScuderiaFerrari & others

YourUsername dazed 💘

Comments

JudeBellingham absolutely breathtaking 😍

User Jude what are you doing here

User he’s really shooting his shot🫢

BellaHadid the prettiest

Yourbestfriend always 💖

YourUsername thank you my beautiful friends💕

LandoNorris 😍

User LANDO

User lol omg YN really has footballers & f1 drivers on a chokehold

User 🫢

User she was just in Paris where is she now??🫨

User what’s Ferrari doing here

User even the admin is crushing on Y/N

User can’t blame them 😮‍💨

Like by ScuderiaFerrari, CharlesLeclerc, YourUsername & others

LewisHamilton can’t take what’s already mine

Comments

User caption?

User SUS

User what are you talking about

User I wanna know so bad 🥲

User ME TOO

User who is making my cutie patootie mad??

CharlesLeclerc 🧐

Alexandrasaintmleux 👀

User what is happening

User this is an inside joke for sure

ScuderiaFerrari ❤️‍🔥

BellaHadid true 🧘‍♀️

Liked by CarlosSainz, JudeBellingham, Neymar & others

YourUsername can this last forever?

Comments

Yourbestfriend I love seeing you so happy 💖 my sunshine of a bestfriend

BellaHadid She really is the sunshine 🥺

YourUsername love you my prettiest ❣️

SofiaVergara Bella!!

YourUsername y tú la más preciosa💖 (and you the most precious)

User we love a bilingual queen!

JudeBellingham geez😮‍💨😍

User @RealMadrid come get your child

MicheleMorrone let me show you more of my beautiful Italy 🇮🇹

User the fact that he knows she’s in Italy lmao

User not the 365 days man himself 😳

Neymar 😍😍😍😍

DamianoDavid my goodness 🫨💘

Liked by 20,622

F1wags New WAG alert? 🚨 Lewis Hamilton spotted with a woman who looks a lot like Y/N. Fans are speculating the two have been vacationing together as their social media has portrayed them to be in the same places around the same time. What do you guys think?

Comments

User kind of explains his last caption since a lot of famous men have been in her insta comments hitting on her

User that’s what I think too

User it sounded a little jealous tbh

User my two worlds colliding omg

User I ship it 😍

User that would be the hottest couple

User imagine their babies

User can’t the man have friends??

User with his track record lmao

User how can this man just be friends with YN??

User He really said let me show these men she’s already taken

Liked by 30,542

F1Wags Days after photos surfaced of Lewis Hamilton & YN out in Italy, new pictures have come out of the pair having dinner yet again. The ever-private formula 1 driver has not had a public relationship since Nicole Scherzinger. Do you think Y/N is changing that? What do you guys think of Y/N as a new f1 WAG? Count me in 😍

Comments

User I have no words 🫣

User can Lewis fight??

User Y/N and Lewis was not on my bingo card this year

User Another one for his roster lol

User hater

User honestly his fuckboy antics are a thing of the past

User you think he’ll ever have a relationship like the one with Nicole??

User He’s been so private after that one

User he’s been looking so happy lately

User if it’s true, I wish them so much happiness 🥹

Complex Y/N seen in Monaco arriving to building where Lewis Hamilton resides. This comes after Real Madrid star Jude Bellingham allegedly sent flowers and a letter to Y/N’s hotel room. The football prodigy is said to be extremely infatuated with the starlet, leaving likes and comments on her posts. Lewis Hamilton, per close sources, was said to be fuming at this. He’s been seen with plenty other actresses and socialites, but hasn’t been in a formal public relationship since 2015. He is said to have fallen hard for the young starlet the last few months and dislikes the attention she gets from men.

Comments

User and I OOP 😳

User a jealous Lewis??

User right? Who would’ve thought lmao

User The Y/N effect ✨✨

User can we talk about how she looks so good though? 😍

User I’d be jealous too

User can’t blame him honestly

User I mean why not just confirm it then?

User He wanna be private so bad they’re gonna steal his girl lmfaooo

User she even had Lando in her comments im dead

User she had THE Michele Morrone trying to show her Italy 🫣

User she is literally Henry Cavill’s crush I mean??

User my fuckboy needs to man up 😩

Liked by YourUsername, ScuderiaFerrari, LandoNorris and others

LewisHamilton mine 😈❤️‍🔥 #lifelately

Comments on this post have been limited

BellaHadid yes, shoo them away 🤣

AlexandraSaintMleux IM DEAD

Yourbestfriend the chokehold she’s had on these athletes and actors is insane lol

BellaHadid and singers!

Lewishamilton thanks for reminding me 🙂

ScuderiaFerrari I know red is your color @yourusername ❤️❤️

LandoNorris oops

Lewishamilton you’re good young pup

CharlesLeclerc young pup 😂

DanielRicciardo crickets

YourUsername yours baby ❤️‍🔥

LewisHamilton The world needed to know that what’s mine is mine only

YourUsername 😳

——————

[zae-heeyyy]

Amenable

Summary: Arthur teaches you a lesson. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,251 Tags: smut, soft kink, dom Arthur, doggy style Warnings: 18+ MDNI

An: A request fulfilment for anon that's been in the drafts since March lol. Dropping freak shit today, getting married tomorrow 🤪✌🏾

Amenable: readily yielding, submitting, or cooperating

Earlier in the evening, you’d emerged from the double doors of Shady Belle glowing like an emerald shining through rock. Arthur had briefly debated canceling the night he’d planned all together to free you from the confines of that green silk and have his way with you. 

Hours later, a one-dollar shot of whiskey mocked him as he sat wondering how the hell he’d become the fifth wagon wheel on his own date. Though, with you looking like that, there was no wonder why Hubert had settled in so comfortably beside you. The man soaking up your attention was everything Arthur hated about Saint Denis: overly shined expensive shoes, perfectly pressed and fitted suits, and the pungent stench of arrogance. Even at his most polished, Arthur knew he could never compete. 

Self-hatred and doubt nagged at him constantly. Somehow, somebody like you had let him court you, make love to you and claim you as his. One day, you’d see the light, and he’d lose the best thing that ever happened to him—he just knew it. 

He knew it that evening when he’d combed his hair back with pomade, when he changed into a tuxedo, and when he adjusted his bow tie in the mirror. Dressing up felt like wearing someone else’s skin—just wrong, but he’d do what it took to keep you, and all he ever wanted was to keep being wanted by you.

And now, from his side of the bar, he felt completely invisible. The cowboy’s knuckles itched with the urge to pound into Hubert’s ribs, but he hammered them into the wood instead, beckoning another shot of whisky to satiate his pang for violence. So far, he’d kept a lid on his temper, but when he caught the image of your gloved hand snaking up the inside Hubert’s coat from the corner of his eye, he’d had enough. 

His whisky glass crashed like thunder against the bartop, drawing your attention away from the other man. You didn’t get a second to process before Arthur was spitting venom from his chops.

“You don’t got yer own woman to hold up, feller?”

Hubert’s features tangled with confusion—only for a moment—before he doused Arthur’s blaze with cooling water. 

“No, sir. Was hoping I’d find her tonight.” 

He couldn’t have responded any worse. 

“Then how ’bout you fuck off, and go look for’er somewhere else?”

The refined man held Arthur’s gaze for a few seconds before excusing himself from the bar. 

“Have a good night, miss. Good luck with your—” his words hung as he looked over your shoulder at Arthur, postered like a rooster puffing his feathers. He decided to say nothing and nodded at you before disappearing to the second floor of the Bastille with the gold pocket watch you were eyeing still attached to its chain.

You forced air through your nose and shot back the rest of your own whisky, trying to drown your frustration. Arthur could feel your eyes on him, disapproving and judging.

“What?” he drew out, playing dumb as ever.

“He was my mark, you jealous fool!”

“Yeah, well—” he waved dismissively and stared down into his empty glass.

“You’ll only prove people right—snapping like a damn dog. I ain’t your bone to guard. Keep on that way and folks’ll see you exactly how you see yourself.”

He heard you—sure—but he wasn’t listening. 

” You finished? I left my ma’ in the grave, and I ain’t lookin’ for somebody else to stand in for’er.”

“Yeah, you’ll have her rolling in it going on that way.” 

Without saying anything else, Arthur stormed off. You were quick on his heels as he made his way up the stairs and into his rented room. You followed him in, slamming the door shut behind you. The cowboy pouted while you continued scolding him.

“Grown men don’t throw tantrums when they hear something they don’t like, Arthur!”

“Tantrums?” He repeated incredulously. “You ain’t seen a tantrum, yet.” 

The whites of your eyes multiplied in size as he stalked toward you, a lion about to pounce on his prey. A calloused thumb and index finger dug firm into the bone of your jaw as he forced you back against the door, pinning you to it with his leg between your thighs. Though he spoke through clenched teeth, you could swear you saw the corner of his mouth turn up for a fraction of a second. 

“You thought I was just gonna tuck my tail while you was feelin’ up on some dandy right in front of me?”

Hot puffs of air burst from his nostrils as he searched you for something—some kind of answer—some kind of reassurance, but you only stared at each other, frozen like prehistoric creatures forever fossilized under icy pride.

Until those two pools of electric blue flame drifted to your lips, melting the glacier. They settled there for a long while, then roamed upward and stopped on yours, scalding still but asking despite his anger because all he wanted was for you to say yes—to always choose him. 

You were a block of stone as if you’d gazed upon Medusa herself, but he felt something—a subtle shift of your hips, a hot dampness in your center, and friction: you giving into him. 

He felt like an animal, being so possessive over you, but you were his, and the thought of somebody else sweeping you away felt like an anvil crushing down on his chest. He didn’t know how to voice that and wouldn’t even if he could, so he settled on a language he knew you’d understand. 

As rough knuckles raked down your neck, he adjusted his knee ever so slightly, giving you more of the friction you silently craved. You tried to rock your against him, but a firm hand on your hip held you in place. Spores of goosebumps ran down your arms as his lips brushed against your ear.

“Next time, instead of rilin’ me up like that, just ask for whatchu want, alright?” He removed the pressure of his body from you, stepping back and twirling his finger in command. “Turn around.”

Obeying, you turned, and the desperate sound that escaped you made his dick twitch in his pants. It took him no time to hike your dress up around your waist and expose your bloomer-clad thighs. In an attempt to stifle a moan, you curled your lips inward as he snaked a hand between your thighs.

“This here?” he cupped your vulva through the fabric, “Mine. Mark or not, don’t even give a bastard the idea that this-–” the tips of his fingers moved in slow circles just on top of the most sensitive part of your anatomy. “—is up for grabs.”

You nod once, small, and suffer another failed attempt at pleasuring yourself against him, whining as he robbed your clit of that sweet pressure. Arthur sneered and huffed as he slipped his fingers under the knot of the bowtie resting snugly on his neck. 

“Damn thing’s been irritatin’ me all night.” 

In a couple of seconds, he undid the cloth accessory. You were so distracted by the ache between your thighs that you didn’t notice him winding the line of white silk around his fingers. You stared down at the wooden planks on the floor as he all but monologued behind you.

“A man plans a nice night for his woman, puts on a damn suit and tie, and how does she thank 

him? By tryin’ to emasculate him? You wanna be treated like a princess? Like a queen? I ain’t a historian, but what I know about queens—” he cupped your cheek, beckoning you to connect with his eyes full of mischief, “—is that they sit pretty, and let the men do the talkin’.” 

His thumb on his free hand pushed through your lips, and he pumped it in and out, groaning at the sight, relishing in how it reminded him of those times you were on your knees doing the same to his cock. 

Arthur presented the white wad of fabric like an engagement ring, holding it at eye level so you could get a good look. Though he wasn’t down on one knee, he was asking—asking yet again for what he knew you’d let him do. 

He wasn’t even surprised when you didn’t make a fuss. Though he knew he’d be in trouble later, the feeling of his blood rushing to his cock overpowered any guilt he could feel as he stuffed your mouth full of the cloth.

“Good girl,” he whispered, then planted a kiss on top of your head. 

His pants and your bloomers hit the floor faster than either of you could think, and he guided you into an arch as you braced for what he was about to give you. Your blood ran cold in the best way as he rubbed the blunt tip of his cock at your slit. 

“Sh—shit.” He gasped as he pushed forward until he couldn’t anymore and adjusted his feet so he didn’t topple over from the sheer ecstasy of your grasp. You’d never not love the fullness and the stretch of him carving his place within you. For a few minutes, you let him make love to you, controlled and steady, but after all of the build-up, it wasn’t enough. 

You steadied yourself, spreading your feet wider apart and readjusting your hands on the door. Then you took the reins, fucking yourself backward on his cock, finally able to use him like you’d tried all night long. Arthur watched himself appear and disappear between you, eyes hazy and glossed over with pure ecstasy. His speech came out slurred, and he lost himself in you.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it. See? Coulda’ had you bent over an hour ago if you woulda just asked.” 

You muffle something he doesn’t catch through the gag, but he sinks his thumbs in the divots of your back and flattens both of you against the door. Your strangled moans almost lull him to the finish line, and he slows, damn near pulling out—only to rub your clit with a vigor that causes you to nearly suck him right back in.

“Now,” he huffed, pumping himself in and out slowly but keeping his pace on your clit steady. “Before you go squeezin’ the life out of me and gettin’ yourself off, I need you to tell you something. You listenin’?”

You nodded vigorously, grinding in time with his fingers.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen… I’m gonna fill you up, then you’re gonna go out there with me drippin down your legs and rob that bastard clean. Can you do that fer me?”

Your vocal cords scream, “Yes, Arthur!” But to his amusement and your dismay, it comes out illegible. He half laughs and half moans as he teases you.

“Didn’t—Mmph—Didn’t catch that sweetheart.”

You whine something fierce and squeeze your eyes closed, ready to let the waves of pleasure wash over you. He keeps circling, keeps trusting, and finally pries the bowtie out of your mouth. 

“Now, whaddya’ say, darling?”

“Yes, Arthur!” You get out at last, so loud that your voice vibrates the door in front of you. Despite the loud piano music filling the establishment, you were sure anybody outside the room could hear you. Arthur Morgan, that bastard—that’s exactly how he wanted it.

“There you go. C’mon now. Let me have it.” 

And you did, your orgasm exploding through you like a chain of dynamite. He wasn’t long after you, fulfilling his end of the deal by filling you up. 

When it all died down, both of you stood there unmoving until he went soft and pulled out. His hold on you turned into a hug, and your turn to snuggle against his chest. You could hear his heart still racing, and you were proud of yourself for it until you looked up to see him frowning down.

“I–I didn’t mean what I said about—I—I got carried away. I can get somebody to draw you a bath, and I’ll clear it out out there so you don’t feel—”

“Arthur, hush up ‘fore I give you the bowtie.” 

His eyes widened, and his brows crinkled together at the thought; then he chuckled through his nose, relieved to hear the playfulness in your tone. You brush your fingers across his cheek and watch the shame for what he just did dissolve away with your touch, “S’okay, Arthur.

"I didn’t mean to humiliate you like that, I never want to—”

"Arthur,” you repeat sternly. When you’re sure he’s listening, you speak with a tenderness only reserved for him.

“It’s just you I want. It’s just you I’ll ever want. Okay?”

He only inhaled deeply, letting the words settle in his gut. You thought that was the end of the matter, but he redressed and slipped away, mumbling something about needing another drink.  

Your lover came back empty-handed a few minutes later but opened the door wide enough for you to see the vacant foyer. He’d cleared the entire floor, just like he said he would, for you to walk three feet to the bath unaccosted. You sauntered across and looked over your shoulder at Arthur, postured like a soldier outside the door.

“I’ll stand guard.” 

“Don’t worry ’bout that,” you said, grinning.

The twinkle in your eye as you tugged on his sleeve and pulled him inside made him believe—for a little while, anyway—that you loved him just as much as he loved you.

[biteyoubiteme]

meet me in montauk teaser

choi soobin x fem!reader

𓅪 synopsis: do you ever truly forget a person? even those whom you have specifically paid to be removed from your mind? no matter how hard some try, some people can never be forgotten because the love and the hurt can be found in even the smallest things. memories easily triggered by nothing more than running your fingers through the grains of sand on the beach where you met, not once but twice. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: fem!reader, angst, romance, bit of a science fiction au, soulmate trope ish, depression, mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, postpartum depression, smut, more to be added/subject to change/full warnings to be posted with fic

estimated word count: ~25k I could be lying I don't know how to estimate word counts so we will actually see how far off I am or just right when it’s posted lol ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ release date: july 2025

ོ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: back to me- the marías an: this is based off the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, most of the movie is spent going through memories and this is a bit of my interpretation of that although not as heavily as the movie does it. i hope that you guys like this one its very heavy but i love it and was looking for a bit of an outlet and its helped me a lot and i hope you guys can find something you like in it as well <333

[m.list]

With beomgyu on one side, teasing him, and taehyun on the other, telling soobin he should have given you his number, he looked back at you across the street, looking back at him. And it didn't matter if he looked like a madman, he turned back, hand cupping his mouth as he shouted across that nearly empty New York street right at the head of the subway stairs, “Do you work tomorrow?” 

The question had pulled everyone to a stop, your face heating up, not caring if yeonjun and Kai joked over the clear crush you had formed over a single beach trip, “On Monday! You'll visit me, right?” 

“I wouldn't miss it!” Not when he had found someone so interesting, he forgot himself enough to shout into the busy city just to catch one more line with you. And while both of you left in the opposite direction, you still wore identical, hazy, love-struck, love-sick smiles all the way home. 

It had been instant then, and it was instant now. The unfurrowing of your life lines not crossing once, but twice, when the two of you had done everything in your power to forget one another. 

The treatment had been offered as a last ditch effort to pull your relationship out of a sinking ship. A lifeline tossed into the water, thrashing with unrelenting emotions, drowning the both of you until the waves were too high and too heavy to fight. But it had not been like that at first; your ship was just sailing, and the masts were heavy and strong with each gust of wind heading your way. No low going self-implosion waiting on your horizon. At least not just yet. 

Because at the start of it all, on that Monday morning, soobin had called in sick, faked a strained voice with the aid of his sleep-ridden one, and made sure to secure the full day without a blink of an eye. He didn't know when you started your shift, if it was in the afternoon or even at night; all he knew was that he would be there waiting to be checked out with your favorite novel tucked in the crook of his elbow. 

He hadn't gotten your number, and distance made the heart grow fonder, so the only replay in his mind was the way you made him laugh and the way he wanted to see you laughing right along with him. And when he arrived, you hadn’t been in sight, the checkout counters bare of people, just as the rest of the store. His languid stroll only made him take in the place as you might have seen it. The towering light washed wooden shelves holding far too many books to not make the place feel cramped in the best way possible. Ladders sitting at the edge of each aisle waited, and he wondered how often you must have had to climb up one for a customer scared to reach a height they hadn't been expecting for a paperback. 

And as he rounded that last corner, he ran into you with your apron on, the bookstore logo tattooed on the front in delicate green stitching above the neatly done black of your name. “You came,” your voice hooking him in the way it was just so easily said, an exhale that he had been waiting to feel the second he saw you again. Because it had been a bit like holding his breath. His anxious mind worked to ask him the question: Was she really like how he remembered her, or was it just the salt and the sand influencing his mind? 

But it hadn't been the beach, not when you stood so vividly alive there, just as you had sitting next to him on the shore and the train. “I told you I wouldn't miss it,” because anything he had been feeling washed away, and he was just a boy in a store flirting with a girl he felt like he had known for a lifetime.

⸝⸝⸝

taglist 🏷: want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join!want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! everyone on my txt taglist will already be tagged

[httpsserene]

blue hyacinths — 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔 charles leclerc x florist! fem!sri lankan!reader (fc: maitreyi ramakrishnan) smau. requested! fluff. light angst. kika, pierre, and océane are good friends. fixing work-life balance. small business growth. light suggestive behavior. final chapter; view the (flower) arrangements table of contents.

synopsis: the reason you avoid dating isn’t because you’re afraid of love, it’s because you don't have the time for love. charles wants to change your mind and prove that it’s possible for you to manage your business and fall in love with him at the same time.

༊࿐ ⊹ i am right under the 30 photo limit with this one! it's long, and pls ignore how i've been slightly changing the format with each post lol. ilyasm 🤍

⌕ prev | join taglist | reqs & feedback | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

igstory • yourinstagram 🔒 just uploaded to close friends!

[caption; i'm leaving work early,,, to get ready for a date??? smb check my temperature 🤒]

christinanadin: have fun on your date my love! hope it goes well ♥️ by author

pierregasly: i have never seen charles this nervous for a date ↳pierregasly: he's shaking like a chihuahua it's hilarious 🤣 ↳yourinstagram: he knows that i don't bite right? ↳pierregasly: between u and me...i think he'd like it if you did 🫣

lilymhe: welcome to wag life! can't wait to see you in the paddock x ♥️ by author

inesreiss_: checked ur temp and i think ur suffering from lovesickness 🤧 hope ur date goes perfectly! ♥️ by author

océaneofc: eeek! tell me everything after!!! ♥️ by author

kikagomes: be safe, send me your location, don't drink too much, take your taser and pepper spray with you, and have a good time 😁😁😁 ↳yourinstagram: ok mom 🙄😒

youremployee1: you know you should be leaving work at this time everyday :)))) ↳yourinstagram: but i don't wanna leave you to finish orders all alone :( ↳youremployee1: first boss in the world to not want their employees to work 😂

youremployee2: thank god! you know we can handle the shop on our own right? ↳yourinstagram: i know! i just like to work! ↳youremployee2: you should like having time to relax 😒

twitter

instagram • bouquetiere

♡︎ 23.1K 🗨️ 672 ➤ 13.8K

liked by charles_leclerc, vogueweddings, kikagomes, and others.

bouquetiere thrilled to announce that we are adding bouquet preservation to our catalogue!!! any flowers purchased from our shop can be brought in to be dried and prepped for a beautiful display. we have a selection of display cases and resin displays for our clients to select from. this is a service that can be added on to our wedding packages as well.

all weddings booked this month will have the option of preserving the wedding bouquet for FREE! the first ten people to purchase flowers in store tomorrow will also receive FREE preservation!

view comments

📌naomischiff: i'm calling the store right now to add this to my wedding package! can't wait to see your beautiful arrangements on the big day x ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: i am running to pick up the phone!

user1: any bouquet can be preserved? it's not wedding bouquet's only right?

bouquetiere: that’s right! all flowers purchased from our store can be brought back and preserved by us! user1: cool! i'm going to beg my dad to get my graduation bouquet from your store 🩵

user2: the resin display might be the best thing i have ever seen 😲

charles_leclerc: i'm bringing in hyacinths and lily of the valley to be dried 😅

bouquetiere: the apology bouquet! did she forgive you like i said she would? charles_leclerc: if you didn't teach me how to make beautiful arrangements, she might not have bouquetiere: well that's what i'm here for ☺️ user3: wait so the florist isn't the girl the bouquet was for 🙁 user4: i'm so fucking confused i thought charles was flirting with the florist for weeks??? now i'm learning that it's some other bitch 🤬🤬🤬 user5: you're telling me the thousands of flowers i saw in the passenger seat of this man's ferrari wasn't even for my favorite florist. guards!!!! feed him to the lions 😤

imessage • charles -> you

instagram • bouquetiere

♡︎ 54.8K 🗨️ 10.1K ➤ 18.3K

liked by charles_leclerc, océaneofc, hattiepiastri, and others.

bouquetiere our little flower shop has grown large enough that it's becoming difficult for a team of three to handle on their own. if you would like to see bouquetiere continue to grow, you are welcome to fill out a job application to join our tiny team of florists!

please visit the link in our bio to see the open positions and requirements for hiring.

view comments

📌user6: i knew hyperfixating on floral design would come in handy one day ♥️ by author

charles_leclerc: when do i start 😇 do you think i will look as cute as you do in an apron 😉 ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: who's gonna tell him that we don't hire f1 drivers that are away for 25+ weekends out of the year... user7: charles 🙃 don't 🙃 pmo 🙃 rn 🙃 user8: so charles goes from not talking to women, to talking to two at the same time 🤨🤨🤨 user9: there's no way leclerc would be bold enough to keep flirting with her if they aren't a thing 😌

user10: do you hire grade school students who live in the uk? ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: i believe that's illegal sadly 😟

user11: please censor the words j*b appl****** it's terrifying 😣

user12: i'm quitting my desk job expeditiously to work here ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: please wait until you have an offer before you quit!!!

instagram • cl16fanaccount (tw: cutting fingers on accident, skip if necessary < 3)

♡︎ 45.5K 🗨️ 3.1K ➤ 18.4K

liked by user17, user10, user42, and others.

cl16fanaccount today's interview with charles and carlos featured a funny story involving misspelt texts, hello kitty band-aids, and a mystery "friend" of charles's! i hope the cuts on his fingers have healed well! we have an australian grand prix to win!

view comments

user13: why would he do anything that would injure him before a race?

user14: girl. he was de-thorning flowers, it's not like he cut his fucking fingers off 😒

user15: charles wasn't wearing bandages in the interview, i'm sure the cuts have healed already :)

user16: carlos was vibrating in his seat when the interviewer asked them to tell a funny story 💀

user17: i'm going to miss this driver pairing next year 🥲🥲🥲

user18: so the "friend" he was helping is definitely the florist at bouquetiere right?

user19: he could’ve been making a bouquet for someone else 🤷🏽‍♀️ user20: who else would he be helping with flowers? it's gotta be her!

user21: ew why is a man wearing hello kitty bandages

user22: nahhh the photos don't do this moment justice 🙂‍↔️

user23: FR! the big ass grin on his face when he looked down at his fingertips? SMITTEN.

user24: ur not slick charles. there's no platonic explanation for the way you were cheesing and tracing the scars on your fingers!1!!!

user25: i know charles has terrible luck w women but if this "friend" ends up being someone other than his florist...i will kms 🫠

imessage • kika -> océane & you • océane -> charles

twitter

igstory • yourinstagram 🔒 just uploaded!

[caption; the first man to give me red roses :) and he handmade the bouquet 🥹]

pierregasly: that's my fucking boy 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻

charles_leclerc: the first? i better be the LAST man to give you flowers ❤️❤️❤️ ↳yourinstagram: i’d like that 💞

youremployee4: can you tell him to make bouquets in front of the main window next time? he's great for business...

kikagomes: this dating thing isn't so bad, is it 😁

iamrebeccad: i overheard him telling carlos about you, you know? he's head over heels for you 😌 ↳yourinstagram: he talks about me ☺️☺️☺️

imessage • charles -> you

instagram • bouquetiere

♡︎ 52.3K 🗨️ 1.1K ➤ 8.9K

liked by scuderia_ferrari, pierregasly, nathalie_pinkham, and others.

bouquetiere the week of the monaco grand prix is now a holiday at bouquetiere!

our store front will be CLOSED from thursday-sunday for the grand prix! all events and orders previously booked and scheduled on these days will still be serviced but our physical store will not be open.

in honor of charles leclerc, red roses will be on sale at 50% off the week before the race. forza ferrari, forza charles 🌹🌹🌹

view comments

📌charles_leclerc: WHAT. you are joking, yes? please do not close you're shop, i do not want to harm your business !!!! i know that work is the most important thing to you ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: i want to be there for you, and i was wrong to let you believe that i think work takes priority over showing up and supporting you on one of the most important days of your life. i need to try harder to prove that you matter to me. charles_leclerc: if you want to try again, coming to the gp sounds like a start 😶 charles_leclerc: there is a seat in the garage with your name on it...if you want it? bouquetiere: i want it. i want to be there.

user25: clearly we're out of the FUCKING loop 😱😱😱

kikagomes: you HAVE to visit me in the alpine garage ♥️ by author

user26: i kinda hated charles for stealing my florist but since the roses are half off in his honor,,,i could see myself liking him 😅

user27: going to tell my 62 yo coworker about this bc none of my friends care about f1

user28: WHAT FLOWER MEANS FORZA FERRARI 😛

user29: i panicked bc my wedding is on sunday and i thought she was about to cancel on me

user30: why did you think it was a good idea to have your wedding on a gp sunday 😒 user29: i booked the venue before the f1 calendar for this year came out!!!! i didn't know 😭😭😭

youremployee3: ty charles for getting me time off work!!!!

youremployee6: CHARLES PLEASE WIN SO WE GET THIS WEEKEND OFF EVERY YEAR charles_leclerc: i will 😇

user31: this is pm confirmation that they're dating right ⁉️⁉️

user32: i must have skipped a few chapters cuz how did we go from flirting in the comments to visiting a grand prix 🙋🏻‍♀️

user33: i'm calling it! charles is winning monaco this year! ♥️ by author

twitter

instagram • charles_leclerc

♡︎ 2.1M 🗨️8.3K ➤ 28.5K

liked by scuderiaferrari, pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, and others.

charles_leclerc still can't believe it ❤️‍🩹 i love youuu monaco ❤️❤️❤️

𖤘 bouquetiere

view comments

carlossainz55: oh i am sure you love "monaco"

charles_leclerc: i do 😇 user34: why is monaco in quotes 🤨 user35: carlos share with the class plsss 👏👏👏

lorenzotl: proud of you ♥️ by author

user36: I LOVE YOU CHARLES 😍😍😍

yourinstagram: මම ඔයාට ආදරෙයි (i love you) ♥️ by author

user37: charles liked??? user38: her account's private :( and the pfp is blank user39: what does this say? what language is this? user40: it's sinhala!!! it says i love you!!! user41: why would charles like THIS comment out of all of them

arthur_leclerc: how come you do not get me flowers 🥺

charles_leclerc: learn how to make your own bouquets user42: 🤣🤣🤣 user43: arthur your brother is soft launching his florist gf i'm sure you can get flowers for free 😏

user44: slap me in the face and call me mattia binotto—but i'm positive that the mystery hands in the last pic is the florist 🧐

user44: I RECOGNIZE THAT JEWELRY ANYWHERE !!! SHE MAKES MY BOUQUETS !!!

user46: i never thought that i'd live to see the day where leclerc soft launches 😨

user47: that should be meeee holding your hand 🫠

user48: can't even be jealous! i hope she makes you happy charles :)

user44: you don't know how many roses i bought from bouquetiere to support her 😬

user45: CHARLES I BET MY ENTIRE MORTGAGE ON YOU THANK YOU FOR NOT LOSING 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻

imessage • charles -> you

instagram • charles_leclerc

♡︎ 1.9M 🗨️ 7.6K ➤ 30.3K

liked by lewishamilton, apmmonaco, bouquetiere, and others.

charles_leclerc fulfilled my side of the deal this weekend thank you monzaaaa 🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤

𖤘 bouquetiere

view comments

user46: YES YOU DID !!! FERRARI IS SO BACK !!!

user47: FORZA CHARLESSSSS 🏎️💨💨💨💨

yourinstagram: 🙄 ♥️ by author

user48: charles liked her comment again??? user49: two times is a coincidence NOT a pattern user48: we're tallking about charles "i get no bitches" leclerc 🫩 user49: leclerc fans are so mean to him! wym y'all are callling him out cause he has no rizz 🥴 user48: the man has a face of a supermodel but can't get a gf??? he deserves the bulllying!!! in fact, i think we need to bully him harder 😈😈😈

user50: you won bro. in life and on the track.

user51: CHARLES JUST POST HER AT THIS RATE AND STOP TEASING 👹

user52: i want to eat those flowers 🤤🤤🤤

bouquetiere: roses are edible! make sure they were not treated with chemicals if you plan on eating them :) user52: THE LEGEND HERSELF !!! were you in monza for the race? bouquetiere: i wish i was! i had five back to back weddings on sunday! user53: FIVE??? ur built diff girlie, get ur bag sis 😳😳😳 user54: zon't everrrr question my girls work ethic!!! user55: money 1st, race car boyfriend 2nd 😌

user56: charlssss we can be world champions ‼️

user58: i know a desi girlie when i see herrrrrr 🧐🧐🧐

user59: THOSE FLOWERS LOOK SO PRETTY ♥️ by author

charles_leclerc: they are from bouquetiere !!! she's the best florist in monaco 😁😁😁 user60: charles promoting his gf's business lol user61: he's perfect i can't 😭 user62: how i need my future man to support everything i do

instagram • bouquetiere

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liked by charles_leclerc, chanelofficial, kikagomes, and others.

bouquetiere starting next month, the shop hours will be changing!

the shop will be closed on sundays AND mondays! don't worry, this change won't affect events and deliveries on these days, it is only the physical store front that will be closed to customers! thank you for helping bouquetiere grow to a size where our team can rest for two days out of the week :)

p.s. if you shop in store this month, there will be a little gift from us tucked into your flowers 💐

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📌charles_leclerc: sundays are for f1 ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: sundays are for sleep (i will be up to watch you always)

user63: if i want to order a bouquet delivery on a sunday or monday, how do i do that? ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: pre-order! you have until 15:00 on saturday to place an order to be delivered on sun/mon :)

user64: you're always so generous to us when things are changing up! ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: i will continue to spoil my customers in the same way you have spoiled me with your support :)

user65: if u can't go to bouquetiere on sunday, where the hell can u go?

kikagomes: i've begged for 3 and a half years for you to close the shop for more than one day a week.

kikagomes: white man did it in two weeks 🙄 bouquetiere: can we at least pretend to be professional in the comments of my business acct? kikagomes: no ☺️ ♥️ by author

user67: okayyy work life balance i see you girl 🤏🏽 ♥️ by author

user68: i'm coming on saturdays and being extra annoying now that i can't bother you on sundays any more ♥️ by author

bouquetiere: you're not annoying? but if you do that pls bring ur dog i love her user67: i knew you only liked me for my dog 😔

user69: ngl it was crazy that a florist shop was open 6 out 7 days of the week…

user70: i was the photographer at the chanel event! you were a pleasure to work with!

bouquetiere: hello again! it was nice meeting you, you'll have to stop by the shop the next time you're in monaco so we can catch up 😌

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instagram • charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc convinced ma fleur to relax during summer break with me 🌺🌹☀️

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yourinstagram: je t'aime mon trésor ♥️ by author

yourinstagram: taking a break is not so bad when i spend it with you ❤️‍🩹 charles_leclerc: je t'aime plus que tout au monde user71: so he's been liking his gf's comments all along… user72: i feel like we should've been able to guess that this was her account 💀 user71: we're ferrari fans. it's not like we're smart enough to figure that out 😎

user73: the henna flower on his hand 🥹🥹🥹

user74: i know charles fell to his knees when he saw her in a red saree

user75: red is her color 😮‍💨🤤 user76: i think it's cute! she's dressed in red in all of his posts!

kikagomes: wow 😁 i love seeing two of my friends get together without any assistance from me 😁

yourinstagram: 😑 charles_leclerc: thank you for being my wingwoman kika! you are a way better friend than pierre 😒 pierregasly: can't believe you're still pressed about something that happened over a decade ago 🙄🙄🙄

user77: thank u charles for dragging her on vacation 😍

user78: what's her hair care routine???

yourinstagram: coconut oil from head to toe. the true sri lankan way. user79: LMFAOOOOO isn't that the truth user80: i just had war flashbacks to my mom drowning me in coconut oil as a kid 😣

user81: SHE'S SO PRETTYYY 🥵🥵🥵 ♥️ by author

user82: okay nobody is talking about how beautiful the first pic is 😲

user83: yeah this is cute n all but i need her back for my wedding pls

user84: he calls her ma fleur *cries viciously*

charles_leclerc: buy your flowers from bouquetiere so i can take ma fleur on more holidays 🤭

yourinstagram: i appreciate the free advertisment even though your motive is questionable 🤨 user85: ordering a bouquet rn user86: going to make it impossible for anyone to deny that you're the best florist in monaco 🫡

instagram • yourinstagram

♡︎ 999.1K 🗨️42

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, iamrebeccad, and others.

yourinstagram a much needed vacation (i don't want to go back)

comments on this post have been limited.

charles_leclerc: we wouldn't be here today if leo didn't make me like your post from 2019 ♥️ by author

yourinstagram: you're still blaming your accidental like on my baby 🤨 charles_leclerc: i'm not lying 😫 he really did push my hand!

inesreiss_: enjoy your time off mi amor 😚 ♥️ by author

pierregasly: thank you for allowing me to have my first charles-free summer break 🙏🏻

charles_leclerc: i am telling your mom that you are bullying me yourinstagram: happy to take him off your hands 😅

christinanadin: you better not be thinking about work while you're on vacay 😤😤😤 ♥️ by author

océaneofc: vacay with me and kika next 😜 ♥️ by author

lilymhe: the two of you are so cute together 😍😍😍 ♥️ by author

kikagomes: bring me a souvenir 🤲🏻

yourinstagram: shot glass or magnet? kikagomes: a diamond bracelet. yourinstagram: girl ur getting a magnet 🙄 and ask pierre for that, you’re in santorini with him 🤡🤡🤡

charles_leclerc: where should our next vacation be?

yourinstagram: you should visit home with me! sri lanka is very nice in the winter ☺️ charles_leclerc: let's look at flights tonight ♥️ by author

imessage • you -> kika

instagram • bouquetiere • timeskip ⚑

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liked by vogueweddings, time, charles_leclerc and others.

bouquetiere love and petals are in the air, it's that romantic time of the year again 🌹

bouquetiere's annual singles bouquet workshop will be hosted by our store managers at all five of our locations! this year, our founder and owner will not be hosting the class at our monaco location because she has this valentine's day off to spend it with her partner--who she met for the first time during this very workshop four years ago!

if you are single, join us at our flower shops on valentine's day! alcohol, snacks, music, and flowers will be provided, and there's a chance you'll meet the love of your life at this event like our owner and many others did! sign up on our website, spots fill quickly!

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part five)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: the wait is over. yay! This isn’t how I expected this part to end but I let my mind take charge…plans change. I hope the end is okay, i’ve never written anything like that before so i’m a little nervy for y’alls reactions lol. let me know what you guys think! Enjoy <3

part five: new york changes you

The whole ‘friends for now’ deal you set with Hugh has been an enthralling experience so far. A month has passed since that night in your living room, a month of struggling to resist the charisma of Hugh Jackman. Right now, your two lives couldn’t be more different: your album had dropped three weeks ago, one week after the deal was made. It has been an absolute success with four of your songs sitting in the top ten since the drop. You were doing interview after interview and rehearsals for your tour started up this past week. Meanwhile, Hugh was living the simple life. He has been done with his Deadpool and Wolverine promo for some time now and he’s been enjoying his free time. That was something you didn’t have much of as of recent- free time. You were trying to balance the few moments of freedom between all of the people you cared for, which mostly consisted of Ashley and Hugh. It’s gotten to a point where you were inviting your friends to the tour rehearsals just to be able to see them. When the idea first popped up, you had been afraid that they would be too distracting but the outcome was the opposite. Having a mini audience that weren’t part of the tour team, allowed everyone to make changes to things with the input of outside opinions. Ashley and a small group of your other friends were rehearsal regulars now.

You’d been seeing Hugh more privately, both of you agreeing to stay out of the public eye for a little bit while the dating rumors died down. Ashley had been a little too enthusiastic about your decision to be Hugh’s friend and nothing more. You loved reminding her that it was hopefully a temporary situation while we decided if being together exclusively was the right choice for both of us. She liked to ignore that part. Her despisement towards Hugh has been a mystery to you. She was always a little protective over you, as any normal friend would be, but it had never been to this extent. 

“Ash, do you wanna come to rehearsal tomorrow. We’re finally putting the choreography on the actual stage. I think you’ll like it. It’s gonna be fun.” You ask. The two of you were currently at Target shopping for her new apartment. “Uhhh of course. I need to catch up on all of the songs I missed. Then maybe you’ll consider putting me up on stage.” The last sentence comes out more singsongy than usual as she tries to convince you. She has brought up being on stage so often, you were beginning to feel bad, but she was a shit dancer. You didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Cool. I have to be there at seven, but I was thinking you guys could show up at noon. That’s when we’re scheduled to move over to the stage.” Her eyes light up. “Ooo. Who else is coming? Please tell me you invited Taylor again, she’s fun.” She rambles on as she pushes the cart through the lamp aisle. “Oh. I didn’t invite the girls again. It’s uh…it’s just gonna be you and Hugh.” She puts the lamp she’s been observing back onto the shelf. “Actually, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow.” She states flatley and starts to push the cart again. You follow her, waiting until you enter an aisle that was free of people before confronting her. “Ashley, don't be like that.” You whine. “I’m not being like anything y/n. I just forgot I had plans.” She shrugs as she busies herself by looking at the bathroom decor on the shelves. “What do you have against him?” You blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit Ash. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can’t even mention his name without you trying to change the subject. I can’t even talk to my best friend about the guy I like because of this weird fucking grudge you have against him.” She stares at you, giving you a few slow blinks before speaking again. “Fine. I’ll be there but I can’t promise I'll be civil.” 

You didn’t push her any further, her answer was good enough for now. Target wasn’t the right place to fight with her about this and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. As much as you loved Ashley, she had a tendency to do and say wherever she pleased but when it came back to her, she played victim. It was becoming harder to deal with now that you weren’t children anymore. Later that night, while on facetime with Hugh, you decided to warn him about the shitshow which he was bound to end up in tomorrow.

“I’m not really sure what her deal is honestly. She won’t tell me why she doesn’t like you.” You pout. “It’s okay baby, not everyone is going to like me. I can handle it.” 

The endearments had been something that Hugh didn’t drop after the ‘just friends’ talk. You thought about talking to him about it but the words sounded too good rolling off of his tongue. You argued that it wasn’t any different than your other friends calling you ‘babe’- it wasn’t the same at all but you didn’t care. You knew it meant more to both of you. 

“I know, but it would be really nice if you two could be friends, ya know? She just gets too overprotective I guess…” You tell him, not really believing your own words. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. We can pick another day for you to come if you feel like it’ll be too awkward.” “Tomorrow is fine y/n. Everything will be okay. Don’t think about it too much, I’m sure I can charm her a little bit, get her on my side.” He assures you.

Ashley was on her worst behavior and it was pissing you off. It felt like you had covered Hugh in blood and thrown him to the sharks- when you think about it, he probably would have had a better shot at fighting off the sharks. The entire day so far had been full of eye rolls and snarky comments. When you had a moment alone with Hugh, all you could do was apologize for her behavior and he swore it was fine, it wasn't your fault. Ashley was acting weird towards you the entire morning. When you offered her to get up and learn some choreo, she brushed you off saying that she still needed to wake up. You glanced over at Hugh and Ashley every few minutes as they talked. It looked civil. The music was too loud to hear what the conversation was about and it was making you nervous. Hugh kept his eyes mostly on you as he spoke but Ashley’s were set on Hugh, never looking your way. You tried your best to ignore it, focusing on doing your job.

 For one of the songs, you would be giving one of the dancers named Ethan a lap dance. He had become a good friend over the past year you had known him and he made the whole grinding on him thing a lot less awkward than you thought it would be. “Are you and eye candy over there still playing friends?” Ethan asks as he gestures towards where Hugh and Ashley sat. “Yes..but it’s more lenient. Kinda like dating but nothing exclusive.” You explain, eyes on Hugh. He’s looking back at you and you’re sure he can tell that you’re talking about him. “You should do the dance for him, since he’s a special guest today and all.” He offers, smirk present on his face. “You don’t think that would be too mean? I want him to want me but I don’t wanna ruin the man. At least not yet anyways.” A similar smirk to Ethan’s was rising to your lips at the thought of Hugh being flustered over you. “I think you should do it.” You think about it for a moment and shame yourself for how quickly you made your decision. “You’re a bad influence.” You tell Ethan. Hugh’s eyes are still on you and you point your finger at him and wiggle it, motioning him to come here. 

“I’m gonna go sit down, have fun.” Ethan says and goes down the stairs to the stage as Hugh walks up them. “What’s up sweetheart?” He asks. “Ethan isn’t feeling well right now, would you mind standing in for him? You don’t have to do anything, just sit in that chair.” You point to the metal fold up chair that sits in the center of the catwalk. “Yea I can do that.” His smile is authentic, happy to help. “Thank you baby.” You say and you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. You pick up the mic that you sat on the stage floor earlier and turn it on. “We’re ready to go for the next one.” You announce through it so the sound crew could hear you. They announce ‘places’ and Hugh sits down in the chair. You walk over to the marker on the floor that indicates your starting position for this song. It’s about five feet behind Hugh’s chair, leaving him clueless on what’s happening. 

The song starts and you strut to the beat until you reach the chair. Your hands are on either side of Hugh’s chest and you move your hands around the same way that you had practiced many times before. His chest was hard and you could feel the muscles of his pecs. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and walk slowly around the chair until you're right in front of Hugh. The song slows at this point, giving the perfect moment for you to slowly drop yourself into his lap, arms around his neck. There’s three quick beats and you bounce up and down. Hugh’s eyes are wide in surprise. He’s a lot taller than Ethan and his thighs hold more muscle. It took a moment to get used to as the routine went on. The entire dance was pretty stereotypical: a lot of grinding, ass popping, and touching. You spent a good majority of the song whispering the words quietly to Hugh. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to interrupt whatever move you had to do next. When the song ends, you’re out of Hugh’s lap and standing a foot in front of him for your ending pose. The crew gives you the okay to move and you turn back to Hugh, mischief present in your face. “Thank you Hugh!” You squeal, giving him a quick hug once he stands up. “Yea. yea…You’re such a tease.” He says the second part low enough so only you hear. As he walks back to his seat, you could have sworn you saw him trying to discreetly reposition whatever was happening in his pants. 

During your lunch break, Ashley’s strange act continued as she made up some excuse for her to leave- you could tell she was lying. Hugh and yourself ended up ordering subs from some local deli and ate in your dressing room. “So what do you think about everything so far?” You ask, referring to the choreo you’d been learning for the past three hours. “It’s…fun.” You huff at that. “You’re so terrible at describing things Hugh. Oh my god.” You complain. “I’m sorry…It's good.” You give him a blank stare, not satisfied with his answers. “Okay okay, don’t give me that look. You’re phenomenal…watching you dance and feeling you dance on me is making it really hard to just be your friend.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. His answer makes you blush, familiar butterflies fly around your tummy. “Oh.” It’s all you could say. “You don’t have to accept my invites if it’s too hard on you.” “Hm. That’s not it, babe. I definitely want to be here. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He winks as he refers to the lapdance. 

Comments like that had been frequent throughout the past month. Hugh Jackman was a natural flirt. That was a fact you had the pleasure of learning from personal experience and the displeasure of learning from the internet. You had seen countless videos of him being a flirty slut- as a married man. It worried you and had been something you’d been thinking about nonstop since the discovery. Him flirting with you was one thing, but you didn’t like the idea of him flirting with others when he was ‘yours’. You’d also seen videos of him mentioning multiple times that he liked older women, which had become another concern that ate at your brain. Last week, Hugh had come over for a movie night and you planned on casually mentioning the apprehension you had around the issue. 

“Sooo, I heard you liked older women?” 

Casual had never been your thing. 

“Uh..yea. It’s a preference of mine.” You could tell that the question made him uncomfortable. The tiny little toxic part of your heart was happy about that. You let out a short hum. “What was that for?”

 “What was what for?” 

 “Your little ‘hm.’.” You shrug as you speak your next words. “It’s just interesting.” 

 “What’s interesting.”  “You having a preference for older women.”  

“How is that any different from you liking older men?” He asks genuinely and you could honestly smack him right now for not seeing the issue and you would if he wasn’t across the couch. “Hm. I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m currently interested in an older man and you’re straying quite far from your preferences Mr.Jackman.” He lets out a deep belly laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” You cross your arms, a small pout sits on your lips. “You're jealous.” He smirks. “I’m not jealous. I’m skeptical.”  “There's no reason to be.” His eyes are gentle.  “If you say so.” You didn’t want to damper the mood but your mind was filled with ‘what ifs’ and you needed reassurance.

 “Hey. Come here sweet girl.” He motions for you to sit closer to him. You crawl over and his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your head rests on his chest and his cheek is resting on the crown of your hair. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. I like you and only you.” “Pinky promise?” You look up at him, holding out your pinky. He lets out a chuckle and links his pinky with your own. “Pinky promise.” He was looking down at you. You were staring in his eyes, watching the reflection from the flame of the pumpkin pie scented candle that sat on the coffee table flicker. He slowly leaned down, allowing his lips to softly touch yours. It was a lazy kiss, lips moving every few seconds. You could feel every part of Hugh’s lip slide against yours. The slowness of it all was arousing- the heat from his body wasn’t helping. The upward stretch of your neck became sore after a few minutes,  giving you the perfect excuse to climb into his lap. The makeout session lasted about thirty minutes, never speeding up, both of you enjoying the intimacy of the demure, slow kisses. You ground your hips into his in an undemanding manor, not wanting to rush the moment, just needing to feel him against you. A few whispered moans were thrown about, a few neck kisses here and there. The rules were beyond broken that night. You liked to imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a knock on the door from the food you ordered earlier. 

Your cheeks heat up at the memory as you pick an onion off of your sandwich. Hugh was right, you were a tease. That night, he had initiated the kiss but you turned it into so much more. You could've stopped it, blaming it on the pain in your neck, but you wanted more. With Hugh, you always wanted more. It was your stupid idea to be his friend first and it was torturing you. “What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Hugh asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Nothing...These onions are too strong.” You flick the onion you picked off onto the paper that was once wrapped around your sub. “You sure that’s it? You can talk to me babe.” He’s sincere. He’s always so patient and caring towards you. It makes your heart swell. “I was thinking about our movie night.” You admit. “Anything in particular from that night?” He asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about, the wide smirk on his stupid perfect face makes that obvious. “I wasn’t thinking about that, you perv. I was thinking about how I forgot to tell you that I’m going to New York next week.” He didn’t need to know that you were for sure thinking about every detail of his dick that you could remember and you really did forget to tell him that, so you weren’t technically lying. “Hm. I wonder what made you forget?” Smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.” And you did ignore it, immediately talking about your upcoming trip. “It's kinda gonna be my first time there. I performed a show there but I was gone the next day. I have an entire four days to explore this time. Well except for when I work but whatever.” You shrug at the end, voice filled with excitement ready to see the city in its full glory. “What do you have scheduled when you’re out there?” 

“I have a photoshoot, meetings, then the Tonight Show.” 

“First time on Fallon?” you laugh. “First time on any big talk show, I'm so fucking nervous.” 

“Don’t be. Jimmy’s a great guy and you’re good at talking. It’s easy to pay attention to you.” 

“Do you pay attention to me because I'm a good talker or do you pay attention to me because you think I'm pretty.” You were completely fishing for a compliment and you carried no shame for it. “Both.” 

Hugh had become a really good friend and not just because the two of you shared an occasional kiss. He was there for you when you had no one else. The next day, Ashley came over and you tried to ask her why she lied about needing to leave rehearsal early. She either gave a vague answer for each question or completely dodged it. You never asked Hugh about what they talked about, wanting the answer from your best friend, but it was looking like you would have to turn to him to get closer to the truth. You invited her to New York the second you found out you were going. Trying to get her out of her funky mood, you brought it up, asking if she was excited that it was coming up so soon. She quickly agreed to the excitement but each word came out flat and uninterested. About an hour after she left your house, you got a text. 

bestie boo: hey. i’m actually not gonna be able to make it to new york. sorry, ttyl. 

The text caught you off guard but it wasn’t a total surprise due to Ashley’s behavior while she was at your house. That didn’t mean it hurt any less though. The consistent dodginess from her made your throat tighten up. Your first instinct was to text Hugh, so that’s what you did.

You: hey, are you busy rn? 

Hugh <3: Hi baby. No, I'm not busy. What’s up?

You: can you come over? :(

Hugh <3: On my way! 

When you opened the door for him, worry was written on his face. “What’s wrong?” He takes off his shoes, the same way he has the past few times he’s come over. “I feel like you’re always asking me that.” You slump over slightly. “I gotta make sure my girl is okay.” All of the sadness you had over Ashley almost vanished entirely. “I’m your girl?” You ask looking up at him. “Of course you’re my girl y/n. Just waiting for the day you wanna label it.” He smiles down at you and offers his hand. “Now c’mon, tell me what’s got you all blue.” You grab his hand and he follows the familiar route to your living room couch. He sits down and pulls you down towards him. You’re sitting next to him, your side against his. He pulls your legs up so they lay across his lap and he rubs slow circles into your thigh.

 “What’s got that pretty face of yours frowning?” He pinches your thigh lightly as he asks the question. “It’s Ashley, she’s being really weird Hugh. She always tells me things and now she’s just…not.” He has his own frown now. “I’m sorry baby….Is this about me again?” 

“Kinda but not totally. I just wanted to know why she doesn’t like you. You’ve become so important to me and I plan on having you around for a while. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, I want her to like you and be able to be around you.” You put your hands over your eyes, your palms applying  pressure on them to prevent the tears from falling. All the pent up frustration was starting to reach its limit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabs your chin, a gesture he’s done more times than you can count. “Don’t let me come in between your friendships.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault Hugh.” 

“I…I think it might be my fault a little bit.” He admits with a guilty expression, making your heart sting. “What do you mean?” 

“She uh… Ashley might have flirted with me yesterday. I shut it down but…” He sighs nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to tell you to be honest..” The room around you both felt stuffie and too small. The tears that were held back by the palms of your hands just a few minutes ago, spill out. You were feeling too many emotions: hurt, anger, betrayal. 

This wasn’t the first time Ashley had done something like this. She’d done it with Pedro when the two of you were already together. The only difference is that she felt so guilty that she confessed. This time, Ashley was too much of a coward to tell you what she had done to your face. You didn’t want to lose your best friend but you couldn’t keep her around when all she seemed to do was hurt you. Hugh holds you as you cry, not saying a word. He leaves little kisses on your head and tells you that ‘it’s okay’ over and over. He let you cry without knowing what it was you were crying about. You felt so stupid to have let this slip past you. It had been almost the exact same situation before. Ashley acted weird towards Pedro, she starts being vague, and then you find out what she did. Déjà fucking vu. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s funny sweetheart?” Your mind had been racing so fast, you almost forgot that Hugh’s was still here holding you. He had gone still, the only reminder of his presence was the weight of his arms around you. “I just can’t believe she did it again without me noticing. I feel dumb.” His body jerks in surprise. “Again?” 

—

It was Saint Patrick's day and you were at Ashley’s place getting ready for a party. It was a weird holiday to throw a party for but people used any excuse to get drunk. Leading up to this day, Ashley has been yapping non stop about going to her first celebrity party but tonight, she couldn’t have been more quiet. You excused her behavior for nerves, not questioning it more. Her demeanor has been different for a few days. Ashley wasn’t one to open up quickly or talk about her problems. You only pried as much as you could before being shut out and right now you had been completely blocked off. You tried your best to ignore it, trying to focus on the night ahead of you. 

Billie is who had invited you to the party as the two of you grew close. Being the same age, doing the same job, and experiencing the same things made it impossible for the two of you not to be friends. The party was going to be filled with people you’d never met before, so you asked her if you could bring a person or two- Ashley and Pedro. It was when you told Ashley that Pedro would also be coming, that her prior eagerness for the party dissipated. 

Just as you sat down to start your makeup, Ashley finally spoke. “Y/n…I think I’m gonna skip out on the party tonight.” You lift your head to look at her through the mirror.“What, why? We’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 

 “I just don’t feel like going anymore.” She’s scrolling through her phone. “You’re such a shitty liar, Ash. What’s up? Why don’t you wanna go anymore?” You turn the spinny chair your in to face her. She put her phone down and the look on her face was one you wouldn’t ever forget. It was a look full of guilt, shame. You were trying to comfort your best friend while she was about to tell you the most heat shattering words. “I don’t think it’s smart to be around Pedro.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Why not. I thought you guys were good now, that you liked him?” She’s fidgeting with her hands. “Y/n we kissed.” 

“Who kissed?” You ask, hoping you were misinterpreting what she was saying. “Me and Pedro.” You hadn’t misunderstood her words. 

Your heart shattered. Pedro has only been your boyfriend for a little over a month but it still hurts. You were still in the honeymoon phase, where everything felt like love even though it was just over infatuation with the new relationship. Without thinking about it, you started collecting your things to leave, gathering the makeup you just placed onto the table back into its bag. “What are you doing?” Ashley asks nervously. “I’m leaving.” She didn’t try to stop you. 

When you got home, you felt numb. There was a strong ache in your chest where your heart sits but there wasn’t an ounce of emotions flowing through you. The betrayal of the person you trusted most in this life was worse than any other pain you could think of. You spend hours laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock finally pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. “Hey baby. Ashley texted me saying I should come check on you.” He steps into the house and follows you down the entry hall. “Oh I didn’t know you guys were on texting terms now…” You trail off for a second, not leaving Pedro enough time to say anything before you speak again. “Huh…You know, I guess it would make sense, seeing as you guys are apparently on kissing terms.” You stop and stare at him, looking dead in his eyes. He winces. “She told you about that.” The statement pisses you off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘she told you about that.’? Were you planning on keeping it a secret?” Your voice gradually rises alongside the anger in your body. “No, but I-” 

“but fucking what Pedro? You kiss my best fucking friend and then hide it from me??” Your finger hurts from the pressure of pointing it into his chest. “I didn’t kiss her.” You ignore him. “When did it happen?” “Baby, listen to me. I didn’t kiss Ashley.” He ignores you. “WHEN DID IT HAPPEN?” You scream at him, all of the emotions spilling over. You sink down to the floor, abandoning your prior standing position, and you cry. 

“I didn’t kiss her babygirl. I would never hurt you like that.” He sits down next to you, his back against the wall. You don’t speak. “It was last Tuesday, when she came over to talk to me like you asked her to. She said it was because you wanted her to like me, for us to be friends. She started acting differently and before I knew it she was kissing me. That’s all that happened baby.” He explains as he runs his fingers along the baby hairs on your forehead. “You didn’t kiss her?” You look into his big brown puppy eyes, searching for the truth. “I didn’t kiss her.” He affirms. “I promise, babygirl.” 

“Pinky promise?” He interlocks his pinky with yours. 

You didn’t speak to Ashley for two weeks after that incident. You wanted so badly to know why she did it, but in the end you didn’t think it mattered, each outcome still ended with her being a selfish person- a bad friend. You didn’t really talk things out either but you decided to forgive her. The friendship was too important to you at the time to give up but you wouldn’t let her be anywhere near Pedro again. The idea of them being friends was out the window. 

—

 “What a bitch.” His thick accent shining through extra hard with his own anger.- it makes you laugh. “I don’t even know what to do at this point. I don’t think I can trust her anymore.” he nods in agreement. “I know sweetheart but I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do. Okay?” it's your turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you Hugh, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You look up at him, giving him a small smile and a quick kiss on his side. “You know what sucks more than possibly losing my best friend for good?” You ask, humor shines in your eyes. “What’s that?”

“Losing my New York tour guide.” He laughs. “You’re laughing now, but it’s serious. She created these crazy itineraries for us to be the most obnoxious tourist. Now I have to rely on my own planning skills, which aren’t great.” Hugh goes quiet for a moment. You search his face for his thoughts and he seems unsure of what he’s about to say. 

“I could..uh. I could go to New York with you. I kinda need to go anyways, been meaning to go.” He says and when you don’t speak right away, he panics. “You don’t have to say yes. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I understand if you want some time for yourself..” You giggle at his overthinking. “Hugh, I would love for you to come to New York with me.” He lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. “Okay good. That’s great! I needed to go back a few weeks ago actually so this works out for the both of us.” 

“Why didn’t you go back when you needed to?” His cheeks go red. “Oh my god! You totally stayed because of me didn’t you?”

 “Maybe..” He admits. “I was scheduled to fly back to New York before your album party, but then you texted me. I couldn’t pass that up.” 

“You keep acting like this and you’re gonna make me fall in love with you Hugh Jackman.” A smug smile falls onto his lips. “You better.” 

The few days leading up to you leaving for New York were short. Hugh left for the city the next day, promising he would see you the moment you landed, sealing the promise with a quick kiss. You busied yourself with tour rehearsals and interview prep. It had been a lonely few days. Hugh was gone and you weren’t talking to Ashley, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You and Hugh texted daily but it wasn’t the same as being in his presence, a presence you had come to enjoy having around. You were close to saying ‘fuck it’ and be fully committed to him but a part of you was still hesitant. Too much has happened recently, it feels like you can’t think straight half the time. Your last relationship was only a few months ago, your best friend was trying to steal every man you liked, and you’re at the peak of your career. You needed a mental breather. 

LAX airport was cold and stuffy. People were walking casually towards their destination with a few runners here and there. While you loved traveling, airports made you feel uneasy. There were so many people going to the most random places on the most random days and random times. It was uncomfortable to think about. You sat there in silence, too afraid to wear headphones. You liked to know what was happening around you at all times, a freak peeve. When it was finally time to board the plane, you were already exhausted from it all. Almost seven hours later, you landed at JFK airport in New York City. Once you turn off airplane mode on your phone, you see a few texts from Hugh. He insisted that he could pick you up from the airport and take you to your hotel. Your ‘personal chauffeur” he jokingly called himself. You texted Hugh back as people hurriedly grabbed their belongings and scurried down the thin aisles. 

You: just landed! see you soon hot stuff ;)

He told you beforehand that he made arrangements to pick you up in a private area, away from prying eyes. You weren’t nearly famous enough to know what that means, so you simply followed the instructions he gave you. It was a little confusing at first, having only been in the busy airport once before. With some help from workers, Hugh was finally in your view. He had a big smile on his face with his arms open wide for you. You walked with a little pep in your step, suitcase rolling behind you. When you got close enough, you let the handle go and ran the rest of the short distance to Hughs arms. His embrace was warm and welcoming, a familiar place. 

“Missed you sweet girl.” He mumbles into your hair. You pull back slightly, arms still holding him. “Missed you too.” Your voice is shy, almost forgetting how it felt to have his attention on you. You had missed him, more than you thought you would. Hearing his voice again made life feel real again after the past mundane days you’ve endured. The walk to his car was intimate- his arm sat atop your shoulders as you walked side by side. He insisted on rolling your luggage for you and wouldn’t take no for an answer when you protested. A true gentleman. He opened the passenger door for you, making sure you were in before putting your suitcase in the trunk and hopping into the driver's side. He looked a lot more presentable than you did. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that hugged his biceps in a way that almost made you drool. It was simple but he looked delicious. Your sweats and hoodie couldn’t compare. His beard had finally grown in, no longer the prickly stubble that rested there a month ago. It was full and you hoped he would let it grow to that length that made him look even more expensive. 

“The option to stay at my place is still on the table if you want it babe.” He says, resting his hand on your thigh as he begins to pull out of the hidden parking lot. There was something so attractive about a man driving. Hugh’s side profile was godly and him driving really did something to your brain. “That wouldn’t be very friendly of us Hugh.” You rest your hand on top of his. “I think that’s the friendliest thing I could possibly do. Offer you a place to stay while in town instead of staying in a dingy hotel.” He eggs on trying to convince you. He first pitched the idea the night he offered to come to New York with you. You immediately declined, not wanting to invade his space. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, it made things too real. He had been over to your house countless times, but you had never been to his. You thought it best to keep it that way. You weren’t sure you could control yourself around him when you were surrounded by all things him. “Nothing is ever friendly between us Hugh.” He squeezes your thigh. “I have to argue with you there baby. In my humble opinion, we are too friendly.” He glances over to you and gives you a wink. He hasn’t been afraid of letting his intentions known. To let you know that he wants you, not as a friend. You’ve seen just how bad he craved you and it was tempting. He knew he had a dangerous effect on you, one that you worked really hard to control. 

“You’re always so horny.” You mumble. “It’s hard not to be when I have a gorgeous girl like you around all the time.” God he was so good with his words. His voice and his way of speaking. It was no mystery as to why he had people swooning for him left and right- you included. “Whatever.” You open your phone to text Stacy, letting her know you landed and in good hands. It was weird flying solo. You got so accustomed to flying along Ashley or Stacy. You weren’t particularly mad at the change if it meant you got to see Hugh’s face light up just at seeing you again. “Will you at least come over once?” He asks, hopeful. “I’ve seen your house, I’d really like you to see mine. It’s where I live most of the time. It would mean a lot.” The squeeze on your thigh lingers, his grip lasting longer than the previous one. You didn’t know how to explain that you really didn’t want to do that- be in his house. You didn’t think he would understand what you mean when you say ‘it’s too much’. The desperation in his voice, the yearning he felt to have you in his home. You couldn’t say no. “Yea I can do that.” The small smile that rested on his lips grew, his face lighting up. It made your stomach twist up in knots. 

The hotel that Stacy booked for you was grand. The elegance and class in the places you’ve stayed at while traveling has never failed to amaze you. Growing up, your family didn’t have a lot of money. When you went on family trips, the cheapest hotel, usually a motel 6, was your usual nightly accommodations. The places you stayed in now would have little you screaming and running around. The whole ‘entering fame’ process had been a huge culture shock that you were still learning to navigate appropriately. 

“Hm. Not too shabby, my house is better though.” Hugh says as he sits your luggage to the side. He had put a hat and sunglasses on, trying to make it less obvious that it was him- trying to hide that it was him who was with you. The hat, sunglasses, and beard combo was doing a number on your body. It took a lot of strength to keep yourself from dragging him to the bed and riding him until you were satisfied. Though, you’re not sure that you could ever be fully satisfied with Hugh. Not because you were scared he wouldn’t be good in bed but because you knew once he had you, you would need him again and again until you physically couldn’t handle him anymore. You  felt him that one night on the couch, movie night, you knew that man was packing and that it wouldn’t take much for him to bruise your cervix.

 “Hugh, please.” You warn him. He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry…Just don’t forget that it’s an option.” “I don’t think you’d let me forget..” You let out a breathy laugh after. Hugh sits down at a small table and watches you as you walk around, exploring the room. You unpack a few things to make it easier on yourself later. “Are you up for exploring today?” He asks as he walks into the bathroom, where you’re placing your toiletries along the vanity counter. “Oo! I’d love to explore. I have one weird request though.” You're still facing the mirror when Hugh comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, sitting a little higher due to his height. “What’s that baby?” He’s watching you through the mirror, as you organize your skin care. “I wanna go to Trinity Church to see Hamilton's grave.” You say nonchalantly. Hugh laughs and questions you. “I need to sing the ‘he’s buried in Trinity Church near you’ line from Hamilton.” Hugh continues laughing. “What!?” He barely gets the words out. It somewhat offends you.  “I thought you’d understand, being a theater nerd and all but I guess not.” You cross your arms and try to break through his hold to walk away. “Mhm. I’m sorry, come back. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re just full of surprises.” You relax in his hold. 

“Does that mean you’ll take me?” You look at his eyes through the mirror. “Yea i’ll take you.” He smiles. You look at Hugh in the mirror, observing how the two of you look together. He looks really good holding you and not to toot your own horn, but Hugh and yourself made an attractive couple. He looked good on your arm and you looked good on his. “You're so pretty, baby.” He whispers. “Every time I look at you, I’m blown away that you’re hanging around with me.” His arms tighten around you. “Hmm. I think we look good together, don’t you?” You reach your neck up to look at him as best as you can given the angle. He studies your two bodies in the mirror before agreeing. “Yea we do.”

Walking around with Hugh felt freeing. You’ve been trying so hard to keep things private lately that every time you weren’t in the secure confines of your house with him, you felt panicked. It was something that crossed your mind before the two of you left the hotel but he assured you that it wasn’t very likely that someone would notice both of you. You were a little doubtful in his words, opting to dress in a way that protected you from the early fall breeze and from making it too obvious of who you were. Hugh had been right though, you both were able to walk around pretty freely, undisturbed. He brought you to trinity church first and reluctantly filmed a video of you dramatically singing the line from Hamilton. To you it was peak comedy and Hugh was being a big hater. He took you to a few of his favorite places, hidden gems. It was perfect. You wanted to hold his hand, bodies brushing against each other as you walked, but you couldn’t. The night ended by Hugh taking you to get traditional New York pizza. He ordered a large pepperoni and you both walked back to the hotel. The moment your room door was opened, you were pulling your heeled boots off. The walking destroyed your feet but you’d gone beyond your daily step goals- a win is a win. Sitting at the table with Hugh, you both grabbed a slice of pizza. He waited for you to take a bite first, looking for your reaction. When you took a bite, you let out a moan- you weren’t sure if it was because it tasted that good or because of how hungry you were. “That good?” Hugh asks in amusement. “Yes, I was starving.” He chuckles and takes his own big bite. The two of you down the entire pizza at an embarrassingly fast rate. “Did you have fun today?” He asks you. “Yea, I really did. Thank you Hugh.” 

When Hugh left, you scrolled through all of the pictures and videos you had taken today. You snuck a couple of Hugh and you might have stared at them a little too long. You watched the Trinity Church video so you could post it on TikTok. As you uploaded it into the app and were giving it one last watch before hitting post, a sound caught your attention. You grabbed your headphones and connected them to get a better listen. As you were singing, you could hear Hugh quietly laughing in the background. The sound brought a smile to your face, replaying it over and over just to hear it again. You hit the ‘post’ and called it a night. 

The next morning was an early one. You had to be at the photo shoot at five am to get ready, meaning you were out the door at four. Stacy met you down in the lobby and led you to the car she had waiting for you. “How was your first day in New York? You and Ashley have fun?” She asks as she buckles her seatbelt. “Oh, Ashley didn’t come, we aren’t friends anymore. My first day was good though, really fun.” You smile at the memories of the day prior, ignoring the small pain from hearing Ashley’s name. Stacy gives you a questioning look. You sigh before explaining, “She was being weird and it turns out she was flirting with Hugh the other day when they came to rehearsals. She didn’t even have the decency not to do it in the exact same room.” Her expression turns to an understanding one. “Well, good riddance. I knew after the first time that the girl was nothing but trouble. Good for you babe.” She types on her phone for a moment before turning her attention back to you- your staring out the window, taking in the somewhat empty streets that were full of people the night before.

“So, what did you do yesterday that was so fun?” You don’t look at her when you respond. “Hugh took me exploring, showed me the city.” She snorts. “Hugh, huh?” You look at her sheepishly. “Yea. He felt bad that I didn’t have someone to go with me so he offered.” You shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I told you.” 

“Told me what?” 

“That you wouldn’t be able to stay away from that man.” She shakes her head. You sometimes forgot just how well Stacy knows you after years of her by your side. The car comes to a stop outside of a short building, shorter than the other ones around it anyway. You sat in hair and makeup for a while, talking to the artists as they worked. You always liked making conversation with the people that helped you, it was always interesting hearing everyone's stories. The photo shoot wasn’t anything crazy. It was a well known photographer that had worked with major stars, her most recent model being Zendaya. It was a huge compliment that she wanted to work with you. It wasn’t like other shoots you had done before, this had been way more artsy and free. You were so used to doing things for brands or for your own music, where everything needed to be a certain way. It was nice to work on projects where you didn’t have to think but just be you. 

When the shoot was over, you sat in a small lobby with Stacy as you waited for the car to come pick you up. You opened tiktok to see what people were saying in the comments of your latest post. Most of them were freaking out over the laugh in the background, over analyzing it to find out who it was. There were a few comments that speculated that it might be Hugh and it made you laugh, shocked by the crazy detective skills your fans had. You kept scrolling when you saw a comment that caught your attention.

‘Y/N GET YOUR MAN UNDER CONTROL SDJFJSDF’ 

You clicked on the ‘view replies’ tab under it trying to figure out what they were talking about. Thankfully, other people were just as confused as you were with multiple ‘context?’ comments under it. 

‘look at hughs recent instagram post 😭’

In curiosity, you closed Tiktok and opened instagram. You went to the search bar, clicking on his username from your recent searched section. You click on the most recent picture making it enlarge and you let out an audible gasp. “Are you okay?” Stacy asks. You almost forgot where you were for a second. “Yea i’m fine…funny tiktok comment.” You tried to play it off, hoping she’d buy the excuse. It seems to work as she gives a small nod, looking back down to her phone. You look back down at your own device, in complete and utter shock. You knew he was built, seeing other pictures he had posted and endless edits of his greasy hawaiian rolls from Deadpool and Wolverine. 

This however seemed so much slutier. He was in, what you assumed was his home bathroom, taking shirtless pictures of himself. You could tell it had been recent because his beard and hair were the same length that it’s been for the past week. You felt frozen, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely scrumptious. Pulling out your airpods from your purse, you put them on to listen to the attached audio. You had no fucking clue how you were supposed to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him. His voice was something special. It had the ability to make your knees weak at the sound. This was no different. It felt like he was teasing you subtly. You quickly screenshot the picture and swipe out of instagram, opening your message app. 

You: I leave you alone for less than 24 hours and you’re over here posting thirst traps for the internet… 

Hugh <3: I just wanted to thank my team. As the caption said…I am grateful. 

You: hmm you say it’s being grateful, I say it’s being a SLUT!! 

You: you look really fucking good though…

Hugh<3: 😂😂😂

Hugh<3: Thank you baby. Do I get to see you today or are you still busy? 

You: I have meetings the rest of the day :( 

Hugh<3: It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow? 

You: I have fallon tmrw night but i’ll be free at 8pm if you wanna meet up then? 

Hugh<3: That works for me. Text me when you’re done for the day, okay? Talk to you later baby

The car finally stops signaling that you were at the first meeting of the day. There were endless introductions, hand shaking, and smiling. It was a lot more tiring than it sounded. Stacy was doing most of the work, covering major details for whatever was being discussed- again you mainly sat and listened. There were a few times when you really had to pay attention as key points were being made but nothing would be final until your team and lawyer looked over whatever deals were being discussed. There was a short two hour break of freedom that Stacy and yourself used to grab some food. Then it was right back to work. You were somewhat grateful for Stacy scheduling all of the heavy work stuff on one day because it meant you didn’t have to do this again on the remaining days of your trip. Stacy liked to set it up that way, giving you more time to be free from work, you loved her for it. The two of you had dinner together and went your separate ways after. You got back to your hotel at ten and to say you were worn out was an understatement. Your head was hurting from all the talking and bright fluorescent lights of each office you sat in today. 

You: I’m finally freeeee!! 

After hitting send, you hopped in the shower. The best thing about staying in an expensive hotel was how great the water pressure was. The hot water felt like heaven against your sticky skin, the thick body glitter from the photoshoot finally slipping away. You let your mind wander back to the picture that had been in your mind all day. Running your hands down your body, teasing yourself while imagining that it was Hugh’s wide hands instead. You let your hands disappear in the place that ached the most, working as your mind played the fantasies that ate away at you. You could almost feel Hugh’s mouth whispering against your ear as the feeling of ecstasy washes over your body, the running water muffling the sounds of your pleasure. 

Hugh still hadn’t texted you back when you had gotten out of the shower. It was unusual for him to take so long to respond but given the time- and his age- he was probably asleep. The downside to dating older men was their need to be in bed so early. You giggled to yourself thinking about the thought of Hugh being knocked the fuck out in bed after yawning since the clock hit 7pm. Laying in bed, you whipped out your phone opening twitter. You tweeted a quick post, reminding your fans to watch Jimmy Fallon tomorrow night. You scrolled lazily for a while, feeling the sleep take over you but when you saw one post in particular, you felt wide awake. 

‘Hugh Jackman and ex-wife seen walking around New York together a year after separation.’ 

You had no right to feel the jealousy and anger that sat tight in your chest. His ex-wife was something you were completely aware of but it was a subject neither Hugh or yourself had talked about. You understood that she would always be around, after being married to her longer than you’d even been alive. You laugh in disbelief. It sounded so stupid when you put it like that. The age gap never bothered you until you put it in perspective. You couldn’t help who you liked though. The overthinking hit faster than you could stop it. You wondered why he didn’t tell you that he was seeing her today. His smile in the picture was a little too wide, he looked too happy. He wasn’t even yours to claim, yet you wanted her to know that he had you now, that he wanted you. The vile thoughts that danced around your head were making your temper rise. You set some alarms and tried to get some sleep. Most of the night was tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh’s ex-wife. 

Hugh<3: Good morning sweet girl. I’m sorry for not getting back to you last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to text me lol 

It was what you saw first when your alarm went off. It was sent a few hours ago since you gave yourself some time to sleep in, given the trouble you had getting to sleep last night. You ultimately decided that you wouldn’t be mad at him for it, you didn’t have a reason to be. If the two of you were official, things would be different, but you weren’t. You were going to try your best to swallow the jealousy and let it be. 

You: good morning baby! I figured that’s what happened lol

Hugh<3: Are you excited for Fallon tonight? 😄

You: yea…only a tinsy bit nervous 

Hugh<3: You’re gonna crush it babe, I know it. I still get to see you after yea? Miss you

You: I miss you too :(

You: do you wanna meet at the hotel after or…?

Hugh<3: I can pick you up and we can go to my place? 

You stared at the message contemplating it. Hugh’s house was already a fear of yours but his house at night seemed a lot more intimate. You felt the need to be that intimate with him though- it was fueled by the pictures from last night, you knew it was. If that hadn't happened, you’d be saying no, making up excuses not to. You needed the validation too much to think straight. 

You: yea we can do that :)

Once you get to the Tonight Show studio, you barely have time to put your things down before you're being guided around. Thankfully, you warmed up your voice before leaving your hotel room just in case you didn’t have time to do it here. The crew had you and your dancers do a quick run through of the song to make sure everything was working before you were sent to your dressing room to get ready. Kat, your stylist, and Amari, your makeup and hair artist, were already in the room ready to get to work. You took the time to catch up with both of them, the three of you falling into a familiar routine. Your nerves started to build up as it got closer to the filming time. About twenty minutes before you were called to stage, Jimmy came back to introduce himself. He was a really sweet guy, super bubbly and humble. It eased your mind a little bit but they shot right back up when your name was called. “Y/n L/n everybody!”. The studio audience erupted in cheers as you walked to Jimmy’s desk. “Welcome to the show, how are you doing tonight?” He asks. “I’m doing amazing, thank you so much for having me.” The cheers finally slow down. “So, I got told that this is your first late night show interview, is that right?” 

“Yes, it is!” 

“I’m honored to be the first.” 

“I’m glad it’s you who popped my late night talk show cherry, Jimmy.” You joke, using your song's title as a pun, which he does his famous laugh at. The interview was going really well, most of the questions being ones you’ve answered countless times before.

“There have been a few rumors going around after a tiktok you posted the other day and I have to ask.” You nod ready for whatever question he’s about to ask. “Is the laugh behind the camera Mr. Hugh Jackman?” Your smile falters for a second before you put it right back on. This was something you weren’t prepared for at all. You let out a laugh. “The fans can keep speculating. A girl never kisses and tells.” It probably wasn’t the best answer- you know it wasn’t the best answer- but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. You just hoped no one noticed the split second your calm facade slipped, that it felt longer than it had actually lasted. 

Hugh was already there when you were free to leave, having texted him in the spare moment you had while getting changed into your performance outfit. Once you were in the car, he didn’t hesitate to ask how it went. “It was good. He uh…he asked about you.” You don’t why you were concerned about how he would respond, but you were. “About me?” He glances at you quickly before focusing on the road again. “Uhh..yeah. I posted the Hamilton video on tiktok and you can hear you laughing in it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal but people started to guess it was you. I’m sorry.” You slump down into the seat, waiting for his anger to come but it never does. “Don’t apologize baby. I want people to know I’m with you.” He never fails at knowing what to say, his words always flow out of his mouth effortlessly. “I kinda redirected the question though, not really giving a solid answer. I don’t know, it really threw me off.” He nods. “They like to do that, be sneaky.” 

It took a little longer than expected to get to his place, New York traffic moving at a snail's pace. When you do finally arrive, he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that sits under a skyscraper that you can’t see the top of. The elevator ride up was easily the longest one you’d ever been on, his penthouse being on the 56th floor. He opens the door and turns on the light switch that is conveniently placed in the entrance. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.” He jokes and you let out a short snort at the stupid joke. “Would you like the official Hugh Jackman house tour?” Excitement was radiating off of him and you thought it was cute that he was this worked up about you being here, in his space. “I’d love one.” He offers his hand and you take it. Your once icy hand being warmed up instantly from his large, warm one. 

As he dragged you to the living room, you started to feel that uneasiness again, like you shouldn’t be here. It kept nagging at you in the back of your head but you refused to pick at it. This was making Hugh happy, you weren’t going to ruin that because of whatever issues you were hiding. After showing you the living room, he pulls you into a large kitchen. A vase full of bright pink flowers, balloons, and a cookie cake that reads ‘congrats’ sits on the counter. You let go of his hand and walk over to the island while he stays put. You run your fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers, peonies- your favorite. “Do you like them? I uh..wasn’t sure what your flower preference was, so I chose peonies because of your song.” 

The gesture makes you emotional. You’d never had a man go out of his way for you like this. He hadn’t known what flowers you liked but he remembered your song title to fill in the blank. A song where you had one line that says: ‘you got me roses when you know I like peonies’. A song from your debut album. “I love them. I love this.” You gesture to the display. You walk back over to where he stands and reach up to grab his face, bringing it down to give him a quick peck on his lips. “This means a lot to me, thank you Hugh.” The previous perturbation vanishing from your head, that cherished easiness you felt with Hugh slips back in. You were meant to be here. 

“Shall we finish the tour?” You ask, spirits high. “Of course my lady, right this way.” He leads you room to room, giving you a mini explanation for each one. It was an average home, well average for a millionaire. It was obvious that a single, older man lived here but not in a bad way, there just wasn’t a woman's touch on the place. “This is bathroom number two, the one I use most frequently.” Something about the room seemed familiar as you looked around. There were a few art pieces on the marbled wall, a large mirror across from them. You were looking at the suspiciously large mirror when it clicked. 

“OH MY GOD!! This is the thirst trap bathroom! I can’t believe I have the pleasure of being in such a sacred place.” You move around the space in a theatrical way, pretending you were in a place of true importance. 

“Oh god…shut up.” He groans in embarrassment. “Could you reenact the moment? It would really help me get the full feel of the room.” You’re still teasing him but that question came back to slap you right across the face. You see a smirk on Hugh's face and he’s reaching his hands down and starts lifting his shirt off- but not in the practical way but in the super sexy crossed arms way. “WAIT! I was just kidding.” You practically scream at him, not mentally prepared to see Hugh shirtless in person. He stops and shrugs, turning around to leave the room. Before you can stop yourself, the horny part of your brain is speaking. “Wait no, keep going.” He slowly turns around with that stupid sexy smile of his and the raised eyebrow thing he does. The atmosphere of the small room changed instantly. He’s pulling at his shirt again, painfully slow in your opinion. As he inches it up, you analyze each slither of skin that’s freed. There is a patch of hair below his belly button leading down into his pants. A strong v-line and a thick vein practically popping out of his skin, begging to be traced with your tongue. The shirt goes higher and higher, revealing more of his chest. Each ab pops out and it’s like a gift from God right in front of your eyes. He pulls the shirt over his head, biceps flexing slightly, and drops the shirt onto the floor. You're frozen in place, not believing that this is real. 

You never have been one to believe in karma but you must have been a saint in your past life to deserve this. You see his mouth move but don’t hear a word he says. All you see is the hairy chest you’d been thirsting over, moving closer until it’s right in front of you. He grabs your cheeks between one hand and faces your eyes up towards his own. “Are you okay y/n?” He has a worry behind his eyes. 

“You’re like really hot. It’s actually frustrating how hot you are.” His grip on your face loosens as you speak. “You asked to see, I was only fulfilling your wishes.” You felt dizzy. He hadn’t even touched you and the way your whole face sits in his one hand and the way his abs are begging to be licked, had you flustered. You were drunk on Hugh. “You're wandering again…maybe I should put my shirt back on.” He goes to reach for it but you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not yet.” It’s mumbled and quiet, aimed more towards yourself than it was to him. 

Hugh stands back up, his height towering over you. You couldn’t decide if he had always been so tall. Towering over you in a way that made your heart beat faster. Your mind was battling itself: the arousal wanting nothing more than for Hugh to do whatever he wanted with you while the more reasonable side knew that there were too many things that needed to be talked about before crossing this line. The line had been crossed many times before with the kisses, touches, hand holding- the night on the couch… Sex was different. You weren’t fond of casual sex, it was too intimate an act to categorize as such. Whatever was happening between Hugh and yourself was far from casual though and you trusted him not to hurt you.

“You’re kinda scaring me here, pretty girl. Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell him that seeing his chest had sent you into a horny dazed confusion. You looked up at him, into his worried eyes. He was always so concerned about your well being and he cared so much about everything going on in your life. God, you prayed that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

“Kiss me please.” Your voice is shaky, unstable. “Are you sure baby?” His hands rest on your shoulders, eyes searching yours for any doubt. 

“Please Hugh. I need you to kiss me.” His once troubled eyes turned dark as he bent down, kissing you like he never had before. The kiss was messy, full of hunger. His hands trailed down your sides until they cupped under the base of your ass. He effortlessly picks you up to sit you on the bathroom counter, lips never breaking contact. You could feel his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth as it asked for permission to enter. Granting access, your lips open, a throaty moan draws out as you feel his tongue swipe against yours. He pulls back for a moment. “Can I take this off? Is that okay?” He asks, referring to your shirt. His usual thick australian accent was soft in his breathy voice. You nod shyly and he doesn’t hesitate to reach down. You put your arms up to aid him as he gently pulls the shirt up and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck baby…so fucking pretty.” His hands cup your bra covered breast, thumbs softly trailing over your stiff nipples causing you to drop your head back with a moan of pleasure. “We never finished the tour, sweet girl.” His hands are still fondling you and you lift your head back up to look at him. “What?” 

“There’s one more room I didn't get to show you.” His hands finally drop from your chest and he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards whatever room it was that you hadn’t seen. He opens the door and the air surrounding you smells like Hugh. It was almost enough to make you pass out, head already light and fuzzy. 

You don’t have time to look around, Hugh immediately turning you to face him, attacking your mouth once again. His hands are reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling them down slowly once he’s got them open. Hugh’s lips escape yours and trail down your neck, your chest, the sides and your body, and finally your stomach as he slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees. He lifted each of your feet, helping you out of each pant leg. At each lift of your leg, he also pulls each sock off, kissing your calves as he does so. You're left in nothing but a black bra and thong. “Mhm. Can I touch you baby?” He asks looking up at you. You nod, the position he was in, all too arousing. He practically growls at your answer and starts leaving messy kisses on your thighs, his hands gripping the back of them. His lips trail up higher, ghosting over where you needed him the most. You could feel his breath through the thin cotton of your panties. Your own breath hitches as he licks a long teasing path between your two folds, the cotton dipping into them from the weight of his tongue. He looks up at you through his lashes, asking for permission. You mouth a small ‘please’ the only word that seems to be in your vocabulary at the moment. 

His thick fingers slip between the fabric and the skin on your hip on either side of your body, pulling the soaked thong down your legs. Before he continues, he’s standing up and guiding you to the bed. “Get up there and spread that pretty pussy for me baby. Wanna see it.” You waste no time doing what he asks, climbing up the unusually tall bed and laying on your back. You don’t open your legs right away, shyness creeping in. You were almost fully exposed to Hugh, the only thing still covered being your boobs, while he was almost fully covered, only his shirt being off. “Don’t go all shy on me now baby.” He says, guiding your legs open, pussy on full display. “Fuck..look at you sweet girl, all wet for me.” His thumbs pull back each fold, exposing the pink that was partially hidden. He leans town and licks from your entrance to your clit. “Mhmm fuck.” You moan out at the feeling. His tongue felt hot against your warm center, beard tickling your skin as he moved. The sound encourages him to continue. He dives down again, tongue lapping around your needy clit. The constant pressure causes your body to jerk voluntarily. Hugh brings both of his hands to hold you down at your legs, tongue still abusing the small bud. Loud moans escape your mouth as his tongue trails down to your entrance sliding in. “Oh fuck me.” You moan out. “Your pussy taste so fucking good.” He mutters against your skin. His right hand moves from its position on your hip, his middle finger sliding down to your opening. He slowly slides it in, the small stretch feels too good. He starts moving it, hitting the spongy bundle of nerves over and over again. “Fuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” You warn him. His head dips back down, tongue returning to your clit and one suck is all it takes for you to come around his finger. You let out a string of moans and curses, Hugh never letting up until your climax is over. He does one more lap around your pussy with his tongue, cleaning everything up before moving up the bed next to you. 

“Been wanting to do that forever baby. Knew you’d have a perfect little pussy.” His words make you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Even with your own orgasm washing the need out of your body, you were still turned on. The sight of your slick in Hugh’s beard and the very noticeable tent in Hugh’s jeans made it worse. You sit up and go to move. “Where are you going?” Hugh asks, sitting up on his forearms to look at you. You don't respond, instead you reach for the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to do that baby.” He assures you. “I want to.” It was the first coherent sentence you’ve been able to muster and it makes Hugh fall back into the bed. You pull his jeans and boxers off in one go, too impatient to wait. His cock springs free, red and angry. It was long, thin, and veiny- exactly as you imagined it being. It made your mouth water. He had a thick patch of pubic hair and it turned you on even more, you were such a whore for hairy men. 

You sat yourself between each of his thighs, running your hands up and down them. He’s watching you as you take your right hand, wrapping it around the base of him. He sucks in a breath. You're looking him in the eyes as you lean your head down, letting your tongue swirl in slow circles around his tip. “Fuck…” You take the tip slowly into your mouth, sucking on it while your tongue still circles. Your left hand replaces the right on his dick, right hand moving down to cup his balls. “Shit..” He hisses out. “Haven’t done this in a while baby, not gonna last long at all.” He confesses but men coming fast had always been something that excited you, so you got to work. Your head dipped lower, taking more of him in your mouth while hollowing your cheeks, creating a dangerous suction on him. Your pace was steady as he moaned. “Yea baby, just like that…mmm fuck.” He was a talker and you loved it. You took him out of your mouth, moving down to his balls instead. You sucked on them as your hands worked his shaft. He was breathing rapidly. “I’m gonna cum baby….ohh fuck baby don’t stop.” You immediately moved your mouth back to his tip, sucking every drop of cum from him, not letting any go to waste. You can feel his thighs clenching next to yours. When you're confident that he was done spewing, you swallow it down happily and smile up at him. 

“You’re a dream, you know that? So fucking perfect for me.” He sighs in content as you crawl up to lay on his chest. “You really believe that?” You ask. “I really believe it, y/n. Haven’t felt this way in a long time..” You didn’t want to ask him what that meant, he would tell you eventually. “You wanna stay here tonight?” You look around, seeing the time on the digital alarm clock he had on a bedside table. It read 11:30pm. “Yea, if that’s okay.” You didn’t want to inconvenience him, even if he’s the one who asked. “More than okay sweet girl.” 

The two of you took a quick shower together, the main goal was to get clean so you could hit the hay. Hugh strayed from that a little bit at the sight of your boobs, which he hadn’t seen fully during the fun you had earlier. He gave them small kisses, worshiping them as you washed your hair. He gave you a shirt to sleep in and you opted to go commando, not wanting to put your dirty underwear back on- Hugh didn’t complain about this. His own pajamas being his boxers and nothing else. The two of you laid in Hugh’s bed, you cuddled on his side running your fingers through the hair on his chest. A silence fell over the room, sleep creeping its way in.

thank you for reading!

part six

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[i-starcreamed]

HIHIHI!!! I’ve been looking for D-16/Megatron fics for like a while now, (watched it on early release) and have been SUFFERING cuz there’s nothing out for him.. 😭 But then I came onto tumblr and found ur posts!!! They’ve been such HUGE comfort despite both being angst.. LOL

umum onto my ask… I was hoping to ask for a D-16/Megatron fanfic with him having an immensely huge soft spot for the reader… Practically listening and obeying their every word like it’s the last he’d hear of them.. In more specifics, I mean like D-16 (beginning) can be quite unfazed by most stuff, just being normal about other mechs and yet almost melts completely to what the reader has to say and pays attention to their every move.. Megatron on the other hand is basically the same too, despite changing and being completely different.. (the reader is basically like his second in command since he trusts them so much and they’re on his side)

D-16 / MEGATRON X READER

haii tysm :3 I tried to make this soo soft, enjoy. Also I wrote this originally while I was half asleep and the spelling was HORRIBLE idk how I was able to translate this

[ cybertronian!reader Fluff mostly, D-16 being a little angel. Orion third wheeling

As D-16, he was always by your side. You met in the mines, of course, and became friends rather quickly. You knew him as a bot who didn’t care much about others—not in a selfish way, but more in a “I’m just here to do my job” kind of way. He followed the rules, focused on the hope that one day, Sentinel would recognize his efforts and free him from the mines...all of them. He dreamed that one day, Sentinel would see their efforts and let them be among the city dwellers. If only he were created with a cog.

It came as a surprise to everyone when you two started dating, no one expected him to be the type, to be honest. In the mines, he always makes sure Orion and you are being safe. But you, specifically? He was borderline overprotective.

Then one day, the mine was caving in, but you needed just a littttle more energon to meet the day’s requirements. You were never one to not complete your daily tasks. You frantically tried to collect all the raw energon nearest to you...while the tunnel began closing in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?! Come on!” His voice strained with panic, his servo gripping your arm.

You hummed in frustration, keeping your optics on the collapsing tunnel behind you, “Hold on, just one more...I need this o-one piece..” You grit your denta as you stretched for one more chunk of rock.

You were out of time. D-16, realizing the danger, wasn’t about to let you risk it. He knew you'd get pissed about it but oh well...without a second thought, he pulled you away by your arm as his jetpack powered on. You yelped as he tossed you over his shoulder, successfully flying you out of there. Just in time actually.

When he finally set you down on your two pedes, you glanced at your cradled servos.

One single rock of raw energon.

You almost pouted.

“Dee.. this is not enough.” You mumbled, letting the rock fall from your servos.

Much to your surprise, D shook his helm.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. Look, you know what’s important?” He placed his servos on your shoulders, looking deep into your optics with such warmth that made your spark flutter “What’s important.. is that you’re okay.” He gently added, planting a small kiss to your helm.

You grinned. You thought he was so sweet, until he gently nudged your arm.

“Be thankful I saved your aft. Darkwing is probably going to give us an extra-long shift tomorrow,” He teased.

You rolled your optics. “Yeah, to make up for all the energon you made me drop.”

He shrugged, grinning. “I’d rather work a few more hours than lose you, sweet spark. I have my priorities.” He murmured, holding you close. You had the sweetest partner, you knew he wasn’t like this with anyone else.

Another thing about D is that he’s so attentive. You can talking about anything and he’ll be there, his optics never leaving your face. Maybe glancing to your lips, but that’s it. He thinks you look so great when you’re passionately talking about something. Whether you were sharing a tip or telling a story, he hung on your every word, asking questions, eager to listen. If you’re a little gremlin like Orión and enjoy sneaking around, he’s right behind you.

Insert the THREE of you--caught, waiting to possibly be yelled at by superiors.

It had all started because you wanted to explore an abandoned building and got busted in the act.

Orion coughs awkwardly. “Soo… how far down do you think they’ll send us?”

You nervously fiddled with D’s digits. “At least three levels lower.” You murmúred.

D was silent, watching your servo interlock with his. The room was quiet until he felt a pair of optics on him. He glanced up to see Orion staring. “What?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. Just watching how you never get upset at Y/N when we get caught but when it’s me, I get the five-minute silent treatment.”

“But it wasn’t Y/N's fault.”

“Yeah, Orion, I’m completely innocent. You're just jealous.” You chimed in, grinning.

“Wh-Innocent?! You insisted on staying, even when we heard guards coming towards us. Right, D??"

D hummed thoughtfully. "I think they’re pretty innocent. Accidents happen.” He shrugged, giving you a sweet grin.

“Oh, Primus…” Orion groaned.

Now let’s move onto Megatron.

He was so, so delighted to hear that you wanted to join his side in the end. You thought he loved and was obsessed with you before? He’s even worse now.

He made you his right-hand, his advisor, his confidant, his fiercest warrior—his everything. Whenever he rallied his army, promising to fix Cybertron his way, he would raise his fist as a symbol of his leadership. And yet, even in that powerful gesture, your servo was grasped in his.

He held your servo up alongside his, he was ecstatic. Sure, you might not be as..mad as he was, but you supported him, even kept him in check when necessary. If you two are the same, well you add onto each others crazy :3 (explodes)