#interactive floor projection

[sallyyty]

A Walkthrough on the Process of Creating Projection Mapped Displays

Projection mapping is an innovative technology that can convert regular objects, including buildings, stages, and even floors, into captivating and interactive displays. By using advanced software and high-resolution projectors, this technology can produce immersive visual experiences that captivate and enthral audiences.

Discover how projection mapping can engage and leave a lasting impression in marketing and events technology.

Steps to Create a Projection Mapped Display

1. Concept Development

The first step in creating a projection-mapped display is to develop a clear concept. This stage involves understanding the project's goals, the message to be conveyed, and the audience's expectations. The vision should align with the overall theme of the event or marketing campaign and consider the specific environment where the projection will be displayed.

2. Surface Selection and Analysis

Choosing the proper surface is critical for a successful projection-mapped display. Surfaces can range from buildings and stages to cars and furniture. Each surface has its own unique characteristics that must be analysed, including size, shape, texture, and colour. This analysis helps plan content and ensure the projections will be clear and impactful.

3. Content Creation

Content creation is a critical phase in projection mapping. This step involves designing the visual elements, animations, and interactive features that will be projected. Advanced graphic design software and 3D modelling tools are used to create content tailored to the surface being used. Ensuring high-quality content and project objective alignment is necessary.

4. Technical Setup

Setting up the technical components is the backbone of any projection mapping project. This stage includes selecting and positioning the projectors, configuring the projection software, and setting up any necessary sensors for interactive features. Projectors must be placed at precise angles and distances to ensure the projections align perfectly with the surface. Calibration is critical to achieving seamless and sharp visuals.

5. Mapping and Calibration

The mapping process involves aligning the digital content with the physical surface. Specialised software is used to "map" the content onto the surface, ensuring it fits perfectly and interacts with its contours. Calibration ensures that the projections are accurate and free from distortions. This step may require multiple iterations to achieve the desired results.

6. Testing and Refinement

Before the final display, thorough testing is essential. This stage includes checking the alignment, brightness, colour accuracy, and overall visual impact. Testing interactive features is necessary to ensure they respond correctly to user inputs. Any issues identified during testing should be addressed through content refinement or technical setup adjustment.

Enhancing Displays with Interactivity

Interactive Wall Projection

Interactive wall projections add a layer of engagement to traditional projection mapping. Audiences can interact with the projections by incorporating sensors, cameras, or touch-sensitive technology. This setup can include gestures, touch, or motion detection. Interactive wall projections are particularly effective in retail environments and trade shows, where they can attract and engage customers.

Interactive Floor Projection

Interactive floor projections are another innovative use of projection mapping technology. These projections can turn any floor surface into an interactive playground. Typical applications include games, virtual environments, and informative displays. They are popular in museums, exhibitions, and public spaces, providing an engaging and memorable experience for visitors.

Applications in Marketing and Events Technology

Marketing Technology

Projection mapping has become a powerful tool in marketing technology. It enables brands to create visually stunning and memorable experiences that resonate with their audiences. From product launches to promotional events, projection mapping can transform ordinary marketing activities into extraordinary events. Interactive projections further enhance these experiences by allowing customers to engage directly with the brand.

Events Technology

Projection mapping is used to create captivating stages, immersive environments, and dynamic backdrops in events technology. It allows event organisers to transform venues in ways that were previously unimaginable. From concerts and festivals to corporate events and conferences, projection mapping elevates the overall experience and leaves a lasting impression on attendees.

Conclusion

Creating breathtaking projection-mapped displays requires a thorough procedure of developing concepts, analysing surfaces, creating content, setting up technical aspects, mapping, and conducting tests. These displays can captivate audiences in extraordinary and unforgettable ways by integrating interactive features like wall and floor projections. Projection mapping remains an essential element in marketing and events technology, constantly pushing the limits of visual experiences.

Visit Zodiac to elevate your brand or events with extraordinary visual storytelling.

[krikidilly]

In truth hes very proud of Senjuro for always trying so hard.. eventually he'll manage to say it out loud.

[sparky-is-spiders]

Somewhere on this account is a headcanon about Sasha being deeply curious about the personal lives of random strangers and I actually want to expand on it now that I've thought about it but I can't find the post. Anyway there's something almost sad about realizing that other people have lived lives as complex as yours and yet completely different, and knowing that you'll never know what it was like. Just. Seeing someone across the street and wondering what their first day of grade school was like. Knowing that they probably have really strong memories associated with particular smells or sounds or places like you do (or maybe they don't, and that's it's own brand of fascinating). Sometimes I hear someone arguing ahead of me in line or working at a furniture store and I wonder what brought them there. Did they go to college? Where? Why? Why did they apply to that job? Who are they arguing with? How did they get to be where they are today? And y'know what? I'll never know. So many questions for so many strangers and I'll never have the answers, and so I'm going to project this onto Sasha actually. I think she wants to understand the people around her. I think the idea that someone on the subway next to her might have a smell they associate with a childhood memory or that the person driving the taxi she just got in to might have a complicated but loving relationship with their parents, and they both have a million and one life stories that they'll never tell her gets her. I think that if she lived, she would've become an Eye avatar and it's an itch she wouldn't have been able to resist scratching. What's the browser history of the woman shopping for lettuce? What was highschool like for the man waiting next to her at the crosswalk? What was it like for the elderly woman two rows away on the bus, growing up at whatever time she did? I think she starts small, little harmless facts that hurt nobody but satisfy that curious part of her brain. And I think she keeps going until it spirals out of control.

I also like the idea that this is an autism/nd thing. A sort of "looking from the outside in" perspective. Trying to understand other people in ways that are so difficult to do through conversation. A way of getting to know them without awkward small talk.

[luncheon-aspic]

I was just at an iconic historic building related to the guy I'm writing on and I saw two lolitas (gothic and original) in full uniform. I was like hehe he was the original cosplayer... They should rebrand him for the youths... Then I remembered that this is l i t e r a l l y something I'm theorizing in the next chapter of my dissertation.

[alternatefandom]

i've installed an app where you take care of this tiny little bird whenever you do any form of self-care. it's very effective. I'm delighted to report that I've been emotionally blackmailed into taking care of myself.

[valkyrietookmoved]

ARCHERY CLUB EVENT SHIZUMAFUN CONTENT??????

[karmaphone]

it's not about the lawns or landscaping, bro, it's about the windows. projection of grandeur is very much a pushing point for American capitalism, especially as it relates to houses and cars

u understand a lot about american suburbs by looking at the front and back of houses

[umberpath]

I think it's really really really worth looking back on positive interactions people have had with your work,,

[optoma1234]

Optoma's range of DLP home & business projectors, interactive flat panel displays, LED displays, projection screens & accessories.

[difwod]

Enhancing Fun and Interaction: Amusement Park Floor Interactive Projection

Amusement parks have long been popular destinations for families and thrill-seekers, offering various entertainment options. However, a new is revolutionizing how visitors engage with these parks:Amusement park floor interactive projection. This Immersive projection system creates an engaging and interactive experience for park-goers, providing endless opportunities for fun and entertainment.

The Power of Immersive Projection Systems

Immersive projection systems are at the heart of Amusement park floor interactive projection. These cutting-edge technologies utilize high-quality projectors and motion sensors to create visually stunning and interactive displays on the park floor. By projecting dynamic images and animations, these systems transport visitors into a world of imagination and play.

Fun Interactive Floor Games

One of the key features of Amusement Park Fun interactive floor games is the variety of fun and engaging games it offers. Visitors can participate in various interactive activities like virtual soccer, dancing challenges, or obstacle courses. These games entertain and encourage physical activity and social interaction among park-goers.

Through motion sensors, the Interactive projection system detects the movement of participants, enabling them to interact with the projected elements directly. This real-time feedback fosters a sense of immersion and excitement, making the overall experience unforgettable.

Conclusion

Amusement park floor interactive Projection is revolutionizing how we engage with amusement parks. By combining immersive projection systems with fun and interactive floor games, visitors can enjoy a truly unique and memorable experience. This technology entertains and encourages physical activity and social interaction, promoting a sense of joy and camaraderie among park-goers.

Whether competing in a virtual sports match, dancing to vibrant projections, or navigating an interactive obstacle course, these interactive experiences are bound to leave a lasting impression. As amusement parks continue to evolve, the integration of Amusement Park Floor Interactive Projection will undoubtedly shape the future of entertainment, captivating audiences of all ages. So, the next time you visit an amusement park, watch for this innovative technology and get ready to embark on a truly immersive and interactive adventure.

[moongreenlight]

Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”

Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.

But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.

He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.

He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.

He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.

You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.

He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.

He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.

He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.

He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.

You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.

You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.

Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.

He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.

And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.

“Alright?”

You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.

It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.

“You sure, doll?”

The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.

You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.

“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”

You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.

“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”

You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”

He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.

“What? Baking me a cake?”

You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.

“Never been a very good baker.”

He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.

“That right?”

You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.

“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”

It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.

“Sure.”

You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.

“It’s complicated, John.”

Your voice is mousy now.

“I know.”

A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.

“I just-“

“Then tell me to go home.”

The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.

“My husb-“

“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”

The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.

“John, he-“

A throaty growl from him.

“He’s not getting a lick of you.”

And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.

He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.

Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.

When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.

It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.

You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.

He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.

He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.

And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.

The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.

He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.

And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.

You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.

He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like

“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”

[oflgtfol]

ever since i spent months on end without being main cashier its like im seriously so miserable when im on register as main like i seriously want to explode it takes everything within me not to start copping an attitude at people and the real reason i feel like the joker about it is that they arent even doing anything wrong really its just the fact theyre a customer and interacting with me at all is just inherently annoying down to my very soul

im so sick of people being like sorry i cant hear you and its like i know i talk quietly but like 90% of people DO hear me when i talk in my customer service voice but the “i cant hear you” is just often enough to irk the hell out of me like do you want me to start screaming in your face HI HOW ARE YOU TODAY because it seems like no matter how loud i talk you bitches still cant fucking hear me im so damn sick of repeating myself it is bad enough having to do the normal cashier script without having to say “do you have a rewards phone number with us” TEN TIMES IN A ROW

and im so sick of saying next on register 6 and people just STARE at me as i am literally yelling st the top of my lungs and waving my hand and they just stare at me literally the next time this happens i might switch my register light to the flashing mode because what the fuck else am i supposed to do do you people just live in la la land i just dont GET IT

and i know i cant force people to sign up for rewards and on a personal non employee level i dont blame them because the emails you get are so spammy but like you can unsubscribe from the emails and yeah on an employee level its so irksome to have someone spend four hundred fucking dollars and they refuse to use a rewards account like bitch you can earn like $50 BACK ON THAT !! that is cray cray and they sit there deliberating and then decide no and each time it happens i feel my percentage tick ever downwards and its sooo. Grrr

And then that woman. No i dont want a rewards account. BUT CAN I OPEN A CREDIT CARD WITH YOU. WHAT WORLD DO YOU LIVE IN !!! the main appeal of a credit card is thst you earn 9% rewards back compared to the normal 3% so of course the card is only open to rewards members bc otherwise why would you even open a card w michaels if you receive no benefits from it? BUT NOT THIS LADY! REFUSES to give me her email and phone number for rewards but is so gung fucking ho about opening a damn credit card which yknow requires HOME ADDRESS. DRIVERS LICENSE. FUCKING SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER. so not only does my percentage tick ever downwards but now whatever metric theyre measuring for credit card applications will also tick ever downwards

[senmiyaazx]

SOLIVAN X READER

“Wanna be your muse ...”

cw: none // not fully proofread

Scratch, scribble, scribble .....

Hm, that's not quite right.

Using the end of the pencil, you rubbed away at the paper— erasing the imperfections in your art.

You were completely distracted. Whatever your professor was saying, you didn't care. It's boring and you could probably just search it up the next time he gives you homework.

You yawned, looking down at your drawing. A blush crept to your cheeks as you realize you've been drawing him for the past few days.

Him— your partner and new friend, the guy whose existence you weren't even aware of until a few days ago, the one who went unnoticed by everyone and you despite him being in the same class as you. Solivan Brugmansia, or rather, Sol.

He's pretty darn cute. Despite his intimidating appearance — from the black clothing and that scary gaze he had — he was actually really sweet, and kind. At least to you.. and Hyugo. But he's softer towards you.

You've noticed the way he stared for longer than he should, lingering touches that shouldn't be there, his dark gaze whenever he sees you interacting with Crowe, or anyone else for that matter. He also seems to like you a lot. Perhaps too much, but you don't really mind. Not when he's been oh so generous to you.

You groaned. No, that doesn't look like him. Try again.

Right. After you became partners, you couldn't help but continue to draw him even if it was unrelated to the project you both worked on. At first, it was mere excuses — you told yourself 'It's just for practice'. It's totally not because he's so pretty you can't help but want to admire him! Sounds weird, doesn't it? That's why it's for practice.

Fuck it. He's so damn pretty.

But your memory sucked, and you need a reference. How though? It's not like you can just ask him for a selfie, that'd probably sound suspicious. Plus, you're in class right now, and you really want to finish this sketch.

You sucked in a breath. Surely one look will be enough. Just one quick look?

You purposefully dropped your eraser on the floor, pretending it was an accident. You took a moment before picking it up, and as you did, you subtly turned your head to where Sol was— though to your surprise, he was already looking at you. Your gaze locked with those vermillion eyes, your own ones widening slightly before you immediately sat back up with an embarrassed blush.

'Can't believe he was already looking..' You sighed. 'This is so embarrassing.'

At least you managed to get a look. You can already envision his image in your head. It wasn't long before you got back to sketching.

You finished after a while. A smile was brought to your face as you stared at your creation, proud.

You rested your head on the desk, using your arms as a cushion. You closed your eyes, feeling tired. Just a few more minutes until..

...

Someone was shaking you awake. When did you fall asleep?

You raised your head from your desk, blinking sleepily.

"Sol..?" You mumbled.

"Morning, sleepyhead. You fell asleep." Sol's voice rung in your ear like a melody. You never realized how soothing his voice sounded, despite the teasing tone it held. You thought about how nice it'd be to hear it every morning.

"Did you get enough sleep last night? You look really tired." His tone switched to a concerned one, more like a doting mother.

"Yeah, just forgot to have my morning coffee." You grinned sheepishly, grabbing your things. "Thanks for waking me up."

He only gave a hum before a shy expression took over his features, a hint of blush blossoming on his cheeks.

He seems to be holding something in his hands before giving it to you. Is that your test paper? No, wait, is that the sketch you made earlier?!

"A-ah! Sorry-" You quickly took the paper from him (albeit rather aggressively), immediately shoving it into your bag as hot shame washed over you.

He chuckled which only served to stir your embarrassment even further.

"It's fine." He sucked in a breath. "You're really cute." He mumbled.

"What did you say?" You perked up, still trying to calm your racing heart. Why were you so flustered anyway?

"Nothing," He smiled shyly. "You know, if you ever need... references, you could always ask me. I don't mind.. I'd do anything for you after all." He whispered that last part to himself. You didn't even care - or notice it, you were too embarrassed.

Your eyes widened. Wait, was he serious? He's being for real?

Nonetheless, you couldn't bring yourself to deny because you probably would've never had the courage to ask. "Right, aha, I'll definitely take you up on that offer, thanks, uh.. bye!" You rushed out of your seat, the paper nearly crumpling in your hands.

Sol watched as you bolted away. He's completely aware of the way his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He couldn't help but grin. How could he not? You were thinking about him. That alone, is enough to make his heart flutter and yearn for more.

He smiled shakily, leaving the classroom after a while, thoughts filled with you as he walked through the hallways.

You're.. so cute. So damn cute.

———

a/n: this was supposed to come with three characters: sol, crowe and casper (date with death), but it's 4am and I'm not sure when im able to write for the other two since i have a busy schedule. i already have an idea though, just need to write it out :)

[chisatowo]

Just realised a lil evil thing I could do in the unit swap au (remembered that it switched which school Mafuyu goes to)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Imagine

Set during the events of Twilight (2008)

Twilight Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 3.5k

requested 📥 yes/no

Premise: When Edward introduces Bella to his family after weeks of avoiding the inevitable, there was no telling how it was going to go down. Of course, what does one expect when they bring their girlfriend over for the first time…. except it's to a family of animal blood-sucking vampires who's lives each deserve a biography of their own. Bella felt the pressure of making a great impression, but the nerves seemed to heighten in regard to meeting the woman responsible for raising Edward throughout his undead life. The woman whose soul was bonded to none other than the Cullen patriarch.

--------------------------

Over a hundred years walking the Earth and Edward still experienced the universal feeling of cringe and embarrassment. This time, at the hands of none other than his family as he introduced him to the girl who’d captured his undead heart and made it hard for Edward to stay away. 

“Alright, um,” he swallowed, placing a gentle hand on Bella’s back to nudge her in the direction of the staircase. Away from the prying eyes of his siblings and Carlisle after Alice had to say, ‘Oh, you do smell good,’ and Jesper was literally fighting for his life to keep it together. “Where’s Y/n?”

“In her studio,” Carlisle replied with a smile, the mention of his wife bringing a warmth to his chest. “She’s working on a project and can definitely use a break. She’s been excited to meet Bella since you mentioned bringing her over.” 

Bella blushed, the nerves resurfacing at meeting another member of the Cullen family. The matriarch at that. Edward’s adoptive mother and Carlisle’s wife. 

“Thanks,” Edward turned on his heel, leading Bella in the opposite direction. Mumbling a short goodbye, she followed the vampire down the corridor, past the staircase and a living space before stopping in front of a wooden door. 

Before he knocked, Edward put a comforting hand on Bella’s shoulder, “Calm down,” his teeth sparkled against the light, eyes teasing. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“Sorry,” she flushed again, cursing at herself. She didn’t understand why she was so nervous to meet Y/n. More so than the rest of his family. Maybe it was because Edward spoke so highly of her. Maybe it was because she saw the way Carlisle lit up at the mere mention of her name. Or how the townspeople praised Y/n, even if they only had one interaction. 

Edward went to knock, but this time was interrupted by a voice calling out from the other side, “Come in!” Smiling, he pushed open the door, revealing a large room in what only could be described as an organized disarray. 

Bella’s jaw slightly dropped, taking in the scene before her. Eyes first darting to the high ceilings with a drop-down chandelier. Though it wasn’t on, thanks to the natural light provided by the left side of the room with floor to ceiling windows where a wall should’ve been. A beautiful, perfect view of the forest surrounding the home. 

The walls were painted a rusted burnt red, the kind you see in art museums. Floors made of the finest dark wood, with one area covered by plastic reserved for protecting it by the paint cans laying on top, beside an easel holding a large canvas. A very large, vintage clock took the center of the wall connected to the window, surrounded by pieces ranging from old signs to shelves holding books and plants. 

On the main wall parallel to the windows, a map of the world hung, flanked by art pieces. Portraits, landscape. Various mediums of pencil, oils, and acrylic. A phone straight from the 1930s mounted above a small table covered by messy stacks of paper. Bella’s eyes drew to a woven basket that came probably to her waist, filled with pieces of rolled parchment. A few laid on the ground. A foot away from it was a cart holding art supplies. 

Finally, Bella’s gaze landed on the figure in the center of the room. Y/n sat on a wooden stool, her posture perfect, hand scribbling across a large piece of parchment placed on the wooden desk facing the windows. The desk was the type that propped up, a lamp attached to the corner, and side table. Something an artist or engineer invested in. 

“I thought I heard the raging pump of a heartbeat approaching.” Bella squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, letting out a small groan. Opening them when she heard the skid of the stool against the floor. 

“Y/n,” Edward scolded, tone playful. 

“Apologies, I couldn’t help myself,” Y/n chuckled, approaching the two with a wide smile. Bella held her breath, admiring the woman before her. Alice may have been the fashion girlie of the family, but there was no denying who she must’ve gotten it from. 

Y/n made even the simplest of clothing look ethereal. White blouse tucked into beige trousers, brown belt with hints of gold, paired with stunning white heeled boots. The necklaces she wore were layered, the longest of which had several charms making them clink together, bracelets covering her wrists, three rings on each hand, and gold hoops. A multicolor scarf consisting of warm tones like red, orange, and yellow tied around her hair. Then of course, her eyes were melting gold. 

She was the picture of an artist. 

Upon closer inspection, Bella had to hold back a whistle at the ring reserved for her left ring finger. Carlisle sure had taste and made sure his lady got what she deserved. That was no ring. That was a rock.

“You must be the famous Bella,” Y/n’s hand shot out, Bella hesitating a moment before taking it. Y/n’s handshake was soft yet firm at the same time. Bringing a chill to Bella as their skin met. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you,” letting go of her hand, Y/n brought both of hers up to make a gesture. “I have been begging Edward to bring you around for weeks. I don’t know why it’s taken him so long,” a playful glare was directed at him. 

Edward rolled his eyes, then put an arm around Bella. “Bella, this is Y/n. My mother for all intents and purposes. Artist, architect, and occasional therapist to all of us emotionally stunted immortal teenagers.”

“You said it, not me,” Y/n smirked, hands raised again. 

Bella laughed, comforted by Edwards touch as she regarded Y/n. “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/n. Edward talks about you all the time.”

“Good things, correct?”

“Of course,” Bella assured, nudging Edward who had scoffed. “He mentioned you designed this house--it’s absolutely beautiful. And this--,” motioning to the space, Bella was again in awe of Y/n’s studio. It’s like she was walking through an exhibit in the Louvre. “Wow.”

“When I made the blueprints for this house, I wanted everyone to have a place--plus everyone was vocal about what they wanted,” she teases with a grin. “Carlisle has his study, Alice her closets, Rosalie wished for a garage, Jesper desired a library, Emmett a game room, Edward got his music room. And me,” a hand waves to the room with pride. “My studio.”

Bella raised an intrigued brow, aimed at Edward, “you have a music room?” 

Had he been human, Edward would have blushed. He brushed it off with a shrug, “Yeah, it’s just where I keep a few instruments. I’ll show you as we go through the house.”

“A few,” Y/n lightly scoffed, earning a small glare from the boy. 

“Carlisle said you’re working on a project,” he changed the subject, nudging his head toward the desk. Catching sight of the blueprints that were in the early draft stages. 

“The high school plans to renovate the library, so they’ve asked me to go over some plans and designs. They were pleased with my work for the gym last year.” 

Edward turns to Bella, “Y/n has the magic touch for designing and constructing. And because we’ve had the time to redo college over and over again….” They share a laugh, “she’s got degrees in art, engineering, design, and business on top of her architecture education.”

The woman simply shrugs, “I like to keep busy. Who wouldn't want to take advantage of obtaining all the world’s knowledge when you have eternity.” If she saw the pointed look Edward was giving her, Y/n ignored it. 

“Anyway,” He sighed, returning his attention to Bella, “The town comes to her for consultations. And, in most cases than often, she designs and oversees the build.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Bella awed, past Edward’s shoulder she spotted the white construction worker's hat. Propped beside a coat hanger possessing a pair of overalls, scarves, and painters' boots. “Did you-,” her finger pointed to the display of artwork, “paint all those?”

“Several, yes,” Y/n motioned them to follow her, moving closer to the wall. “This one you might have guessed is the view of the forest from this room. The first one I did when we moved here. But not all are recent, some I did in the 90s--,” she pointed to a canvas framed with gold trimming near the top. Depicting an image of inside a medical tent, “That one is from when I volunteered for the Army Nurses Corps.”

Bella’s eyes bulged, glancing between Y/n and Edward. “You--you served during the War?” 

Y/n nodded, expression now solemn, “First World War. We were living in Virginia at the time and therefore injured soldiers coming back from Europe docked at the bases there first. Carlisle was the trauma surgeon, and I was a nurse.” Her boots echoed against the wood as they strolled down. “We stayed there the duration of the war before settling in Chicago….”

“How long before he wakes up?”

“Not long,” Carlisle kept his eyes on the unconscious boy while his wife paced behind him. Had they been able to sweat they would’ve been drenched. “The venom transferred from his neck. The closest I could get to his heart--it should take less than a day.”

Y/n ran a hand through her neatly styled hair in distress. They’d only been in Chicago a few months. Arriving when the War ended and immediately joining the effort to combat the Spanish Influenza spreading through the population. With their current predicament, there was no way they could stay.  

Ripping the nurses cap off, she asked, “What’s our next move then? We can’t stay here. This city is an endless potluck of people, and we don’t know how strong his urges will be,” she stopped pacing, coming beside her husband with a pleading gaze. “I know you said his parents are dead, but that doesn't mean he may not have family who’ll come looking for him. What kind of people are we to rip him from the ones who love him?” Upon the look she received, Y/n dropped her head, “Unless you mean to fake his death.” 

Carlisle placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “The boy had the influenza. They saw his condition--it was deteriorating. They’ll believe it took him in the night and his body was sent to the incinerators. Just like the others.”

Y/n sniffed, eyes welling with unshed tears. “I know, but…” she trailed off, “He’s a kid, Carlisle. We agreed that when it came time for us to save someone from death, it would not mean robbing them of their life--.”

“He was dying, Y/n,” his tone was firm, yet gentle. “I promised his mother we’d look after him.” Eyes flicker to Edward, then back to Y/n. While Carlisle hated himself for what he’d done, there was no going back now. “He’s our responsibility now. We’ve to teach him the ways of this life and make sure he copes with it. Not succumb to the darkness like we did.” 

Another sound left her, Y/n taking a moment to process before nodding. “Okay,” she whispered, keeping her voice steady. “We take this day-by-day.”

“Day-by-day.” 

“That’s when Edward….” Bella trailed, biting her lip when she realized it wasn’t the best idea to bring it up. Yet, she was surprised both the vampires nodded, understanding her implication. Instead, she said, “He mentioned you’ve been with Carlisle the longest….”

Like earlier with the doctor, Y/n visibly brightened at each time his name was said. “Will be two hundred years this fall.”

“Two--two hundred??” The human spluttered. Edward had failed to tell her that information. Only saying the two had been together long before Carlisle saved him. 

Chuckling at Bella’s reaction, Y/n tucked a piece of stray hair back in its place. “The vampire who bit me didn’t stick around. Abandoning me. A few days later of endless wonder and unable to control my newfound appetite, Carlisle found me.” Her smile was so wide, bright white teeth bouncing off light. “It’s been quite a life ever since.” 

They spent the next few minutes learning about the history of each painting. From the oil masterpiece of the New York Skyline to the charcoal portrait of Joan of Arc. Bella took time to admire the watercolor image of Carlisle. Donned in his white coat, hair and posture perfect. 

“Ah yes,” Y/n hummed, beaming up at the canvas. “My personal favorite. Though I’m a little biased given the muse of this piece happens to be the muse of my soul.” 

“Stay still.”

“I am.” 

“No, you’re not,” Y/n berated, dipping the brush back into the golden color before continuing to paint Carlisle’s hair. “I know this is time consuming, darling, but it’s not like you haven’t done it before.” 

“In my defense,” his hand raised, quickly putting it back in his lap when she groaned, “I’ve never technically sat for a portrait. The ones from Volterra were done while I wasn’t aware they were being painted.” A grimace took his features, remembering his time with the Volturi. “Aro preferred moments to be captured as they were happening in real time.”

Y/n threw him a look, shaking her head in the process. “Yeah, he seems like the type.” 

“First and last time he got to play model,” she laughed at the memory. “Thanks to the creation of the camera I could develop a photograph and wallah!” her hands made a gesture, “A still image to use as reference. And now with cell phones….I don’t even have to put in the work to develop the photo. It’s right there!”

Initially Bella found her reaction to a camera phone a little odd. But then remembered Y/n was a 200+ year old vampire and literally witnessed the development and advancement of technology. 

“But I don’t always create,” Y/n winked, stopping in front of a stunning work of a lily pond. “Sometimes I collect.”

Stepping closer, Bella inspected the art, finger on her lip as her brows furrowed in concentration. She’d seen it before. The familiarity of it was driving her brain into overdrive. Then it hit her, breath hitching, “Is that…A Monet?” Her confirmation nod made Bella nearly choke on her saliva. “How--?”

“Being alive 226 years and getting the privilege of traveling anywhere means I’ve had the pleasure of meeting interesting people,” her smirk was the type a movie villain showed that made the audience fall in love with them and brush away the fact they were a villain. A captivating sight. “One of those people happened to be Claude Monet during our time in France. Our shared love for art and nature brought a great friendship. I was actually with him when he painted this,” she casually said, aware of Bella’s astonished reaction despite her eyes trained on the canvas. “Unfortunately, Carlisle and I left before I got to see him finish. After he died several of his paintings went to museums or auctioned off. I made sure to acquire this one--took me about three years to find.”

After a moment of gawking, Bella gathered herself and moved onto the next piece. It really felt like they were in an art museum. Soon they came to the end of the gallery. 

“You’re incredibly talented,” Bella praised, unable to take her attention off the marble sculpture enclosed in a glass case by the small bookshelf. 

“Thank you. It’s nice to finally have someone to show this all too. Instead of just me admiring it daily.” Y/n put her hands in pockets, “Now I hate to kick you out, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline to beat,” Y/n led them to the door, “and I’ll let you get back to your tour of the house. It was lovely to meet you, Bella, and please don’t be a stranger. Our door is always open for you.” 

“I really appreciate it,” Bella smiled, standing beside Edward in the doorway, “It was great meeting you too.” A wave of a goodbye and promise to visit again, Y/n watched Edward escort his girlfriend up the staircase to the second floor. Leaning against the side, Y/n touched a finger to her lips, not bothering to hide the giant grin surfacing. 

“I know that look.”

Despite speaking after Bella and Edward disappeared, Y/n felt Carlisle’s presence the second he breached the corridor. Not to mention the tingling sensation at the base of her spine. 

Slowly turning to face him, her smile widened, and Carlisle saw the way her golden hues sparkled when he approached. “And what exactly is that look?”

“The one where you’re overcome with happiness unable to be measured with how much it consumes you.” 

Hands took hold of her shoulders, gently brushing down until they reached her own, Y/n leaning into his touch, voice teasing, “What mother would I be to not be overjoyed for her son and the wonderful girlfriend he’s brought home?” 

Carlisle chuckled, tilting his head down to place a kiss on her forehead. The floral aroma of her Marc Jacobs perfume amplified her already sweet scent. Oh, how addicted he was to her scent. It was like walking through a garden of the most beautiful flowers on Earth. 

“You didn’t embarrass him, did you?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, tapping his chest to scold him, “Not much more than you lot. He was practically dragging Bella out of the kitchen.” Carlisle raised his hands in defense, making her raise a brow.

“That was all the kids. I’m innocent, my dear, you must believe me.” 

She tsked, “Well, at least you didn’t scare the poor girl like Rosalie and Jasper. And as much as I love Alice’s excitement, you might want to tell her to take it down a notch,” Y/n made a face, “I thought we all agreed last night not to bring up Bella’s scent.”

She was met with a sigh, her sculptured-God of a husband dropping his head onto her shoulder in defeat. “What was I supposed to do? You left me to fend for myself.” 

Laughing, Y/n reached her arms around his shoulders, encasing him in an embrace to which he greatly accepted. “I’m sorry, my love. Will you forgive me? I promise to find you the finest stag in all of Washington for you to feast upon.” Instantly his head shot up, moving it so their noses brushed against each other. 

“That’ll do.” Their lips met, igniting fireworks throughout their bodies as it always had for 200 years. Never once losing the feeling. 

They’d seen everything in the course of their century's long life. Several wars. Epidemics. The fall of countries and rise of new ones. Medicine advancing, technology overtaking man. The race to space and the rebirth of the Olympic Games. 

Met people who’d changed the world. Witnessed humanity evolve--and sometimes wondered how the hell it could be so stupid. But overall, they were the stagnant figures in their plane of existence. Time moving, they remained still.

And yet, somehow, they were able to find a family after all. 

When they pulled apart, their expressions of love remained. “God,” she hummed, “That never gets old.”

“Just like the first time?” He chafed, gold eyes glimmering.

Y/n pretending to think, lips pouting, “Less nervous,” a squeal escaped her at the feeling of his fingers tickling her ribcage. Shoving him away, the woman chided, “Get back to the hospital old man. There are patients to be seen, and I have a deadline to finish.” The gasp that left him made her grin.

“Old?! I’ll have you know that if I’m old then that means you are---.”

“Don’t you finish that sentence,” her finger pointed at his chest, “otherwise you’re sleeping on the couch.” Carlisle smirked, entering her personal space once again. 

“I can’t sleep. Neither can you.”

“Damn,” she exhaled, feigning defeat when really, she was becoming more invested with their little game. “You’re right.” Then her eyes turned dark, sinister. Face consorting to a look that made Carlisle shudder. 

A look he’d seen hundreds of times, and not once did not bring a chill to his already cold body. Enough to bring his heart back to life. Enough to send the frozen blood down to his spine. 

“Guess we’ll have to find another way to pass the time.” 

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : FALLING FOR THE SPOTLIGHT (PT.2) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: RPF

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After a successful first interview, you return for a follow-up meeting with Hugh Jackman, where you're introduced to his colleagues and learn more about the job responsibilities. Hugh's relaxed, charming demeanor puts you at ease, and you begin to sense a growing personal connection through light banter and subtle physical touches. After a detailed discussion about the role, he ends the meeting with a playful promise to be in touch. Days later, Hugh calls with the news that you've been hired. As the conversation ends, you realize the dynamic between you is already evolving beyond just professional boundaries.

Previous Part | Next Part

A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE THE INITIAL INTERVIEW, and now you found yourself standing outside Hugh’s office building, nerves fluttering in your stomach. The bright, towering structure loomed above, its sleek, modern design reflecting the sun’s rays, adding to your growing anticipation. This was the second interview—or more of a follow-up meeting—but it felt just as important as the first.

The fluttering in your stomach intensified as you thought back to your first interaction with Hugh. That interview had taken place over Zoom, and though it wasn’t in person, you still remembered how strangely surreal it had felt to see Hugh Jackman, the Hugh Jackman, sitting casually on your computer screen, chatting with you like he wasn’t a global superstar. He had been so relaxed, cracking jokes and leaning back in his chair, but underneath it all, you could tell he was assessing you just as carefully as you were trying to keep your nerves in check.

Now, a few days later, you were about to meet him face-to-face for the first time—and meet his colleagues and learn more about the actual job you’d be doing if hired. Despite the casualness Hugh had projected during the Zoom call, there was no mistaking the seriousness of the opportunity.

Steeling yourself, you straightened your outfit and pushed open the large glass door, stepping into the spacious lobby. The air inside was cool and calm, a stark contrast to the rush of cars and pedestrians outside. The receptionist greeted you warmly as you walked in, her smile genuine, putting you at ease. She quickly pointed you toward the elevator, her voice cheerful yet professional. You were almost grateful for her upbeat tone; it helped distract from the gnawing anxiety building in your chest.

The elevator ride felt longer than it was, the numbers blinking one by one until finally, the doors opened with a soft chime on the top floor. As they parted, you immediately spotted Hugh waiting for you, leaning casually against the wall, hands stuffed into his pockets. His posture was effortlessly relaxed, but his eyes, sparkling with their usual warmth, caught yours instantly.

"Good to finally see you in person!" he said, his voice full of energy as though he was genuinely excited to see you. His broad grin was infectious, and for a moment, it felt like greeting an old friend. “Ready for the grand tour?”

You smiled back, trying to keep your cool despite the excitement bubbling under the surface. "Absolutely. Lead the way."

Hugh pushed off the wall and began walking beside you as you both moved through the corridors of the office. Each step felt surreal. He pointed out different areas, explaining what each team did—from the assistants coordinating his calendar, to the managers negotiating deals, to the creative team brainstorming new projects. As you passed by, you noticed that everyone seemed busy, yet there was a palpable sense of camaraderie. The office hummed with a creative energy that felt contagious.

At one point, you passed by a cozy-looking lounge, and Hugh, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, quipped, "This is where all the serious thinking happens. You’ll find most of the best ideas are born out of caffeine-fueled brainstorming sessions on those couches."

You laughed, his humor easing your nerves. "Noted. I’ll keep that in mind."

As the tour progressed, you found yourself becoming more relaxed, caught up in the playful atmosphere Hugh seemed to effortlessly create. He cracked jokes constantly, tossing in little quips that had you smiling and laughing along. It was hard not to get swept up in his charm. The more you saw of the office, the more real the possibility of working with him became, and the more your initial nervousness turned into genuine excitement.

“And this,” Hugh stopped in front of a glass-walled office, “is where the magic happens.” He opened the door with a flourish, gesturing for you to follow him inside. “It’s not quite as glamorous as you might think, but hey, I try.”

You chuckled as you stepped inside, taking in the space. Hugh’s office was sleek yet personal, a balance of professionalism and lived-in charm. One wall was lined with shelves holding neatly organized scripts, awards gleaming in the soft lighting, and framed photos capturing moments from his career and personal life. The desk, massive and dark wood, was centered in front of a large window that overlooked the city skyline. It was both intimidating and cozy, a reflection of the man himself.

Hugh moved behind the desk, casually sitting on the edge rather than in the chair. “So, what do you think? Not too bad, right?”

You nodded, smiling as you took in the view from the window. "I’d say it’s more than just 'not bad.’ This is a great space."

He grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction. “It’s nice, yeah. Though, if I’m being honest, I spend way too little time in here. I’m usually on the go. You’ll probably see more of this place than I do if you take the job.”

Before you could respond, a knock on the door pulled your attention back. Kyle, one of Hugh’s employees, popped his head in, a tall, lanky figure with a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed slightly awkward, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or leave, hovering in the doorway longer than necessary. “Hey, Hugh, just wanted to check if you were free later to go over the schedule for next week.”

Hugh waved him in, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor. His smile remained, but there was a slight tightness to it, a flicker of something unspoken. "Kyle, come meet our new potential superstar assistant," he said, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of something else. “We’re still deciding if we like her.”

You shot Hugh a mock glare. “I’m still deciding if I like the boss.”

Kyle chuckled politely, but the sound was hollow, like he was just going through the motions. "Well, if you survive Hugh’s jokes, you’ll do great here,” he said, glancing between the two of you. “I’ll come back later, don’t want to interrupt.”

As Kyle left, Hugh watched him go with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place—like he liked the guy well enough, but there was some underlying tension. Once the door closed, Hugh leaned back in his chair, his body language relaxing again. “Kyle’s a good guy,” he said with a shrug, though his words felt more like an obligatory statement than genuine praise. “You two will probably get along well.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story with Kyle than Hugh was letting on. There was something off, like Hugh respected him but didn’t fully trust him. You made a mental note of it, wondering if it would come up again later.

“I hope so,” you replied, feeling a small flicker of hope, but also uncertainty. You weren’t just thinking about getting along with Kyle—you were really hoping you’d start to fit in with everyone. The idea of working alongside a close-knit team, with Hugh at the helm, was starting to feel more real and more exciting with every minute.

"So, what exactly would I be doing if I get the job?" you asked, your curiosity finally getting the better of you.

Hugh launched into a more detailed explanation, outlining your responsibilities. Managing his schedule, coordinating meetings with different teams, handling travel logistics for upcoming events—basically, keeping everything running smoothly behind the scenes. As he spoke, you noticed how easy it was to talk with him. There was a comfort to the way he described the workload, as if it were just the beginning of a more relaxed, ongoing conversation. Even though the tasks sounded demanding, his casual, approachable demeanor made it all feel more manageable.

“Sometimes, if things are hectic, you’ll have to be on the move with me,” he added, leaning in slightly as he spoke, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “But I promise I’m not as high-maintenance as people think.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He laughed, the sound rich and full. “Fair enough.” As he chuckled, you noticed small moments of contact—his hand brushing yours when he passed you a document, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours as he leaned over to show you something on his laptop. Each touch felt intentional yet casual, like something more was lingering beneath the surface. It wasn’t just friendly or professional anymore. The energy between you two was undeniably shifting, but neither of you addressed it, as if both of you were content letting it hang in the air.

The meeting eventually wound down, and as you both stood, Hugh walked you back to the elevator. “Well, that’s the tour,” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, matching his tone, though the butterflies in your stomach had become less about nerves and more about the lingering possibility of what this opportunity could lead to—both professionally and personally.

~

A few days later, you were at home, lazily scrolling through emails when your phone rang. The caller ID flashed Hugh’s name, and despite yourself, a small smile crept onto your face as you answered.

"Hey there!" Hugh’s voice came through, chipper and upbeat. “So, I’ve got some news about the job.”

Your heart raced, bracing for the inevitable either way. “Oh?”

“Yeah… you didn’t get it,” Hugh said, his voice adopting a somber tone. “We decided to go for someone else.”

Your stomach plummeted, the disappointment hitting hard. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could get a word out, you heard a low chuckle on the other end.

“Kidding!” Hugh’s laughter filled your ear, and you felt an immediate wave of relief, though your heart was still pounding. “You’ve got the job. I’d be a fool not to hire you.”

A breathless laugh escaped you as the tension melted away. “That was cruel, Hugh!”

“Wasn’t it, though? But come on, I had to see how you’d handle the pressure,” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

“Well, I guess I survived.”

“Barely,” he joked. “But really, I’m excited. I think we’re going to get along just fine, you and I.”

“I think so too, Hugh,” you replied, your voice warm, trying not to let him hear the smile that was undoubtedly spreading across your face.

The conversation ended with more playful banter, but as you hung up, the weight of the moment hit you. Not only had you landed the job, but the undercurrent of something more between you and Hugh—the light teasing, the subtle touches—seemed to hint at something beyond just a professional relationship. It was undeniable, and the more you thought about it, the more you felt it: things between you and Hugh were already evolving into something deeper, something you were both cautiously exploring.

And now, with the news of being his new personal assistant in the air, it seemed like this was only the beginning.

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I also wanna thank everyone for all the comments on the first chapter! It makes me so happy to see you guys are loving it so far!

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Check out this Logan Howlett smutty oneshot here:

Logan Howlett ➝ Bound By Desire