#writing job applications is hell

[nemaria]

hot take: if an office/remote job requires mostly email communication, the interview questions should be written. There should also be a sample email that you have to write a response to, and something that tests your ability to draft an initial email about something related to whatever the job is about.

if you really need telephone skills as well, then there should be a mock call that is similar to the calls you'd have to make on the job, e.g. you are given a document to read beforehand and have to answer some questions about the content of the document on the call. No more of this "tell me about a time when you...." bullshit, just assessing things that are Directly Related To The Job, Please For The Love of God

[primordial0riginator]

Happpyyyy cuz everyone is so nice to meeee

[exopelagic]

applied for a job!!!

[steinbit]

Anyways it's 03:40 i'm finished and i Hopefully won't need to write any more for At Least another month

fuuuck i need to finish writing this application letter Today... .

[communistkenobi]

I was looking for a book recently on an online storefront and was recommended a book written by a physicist about the history of humanity. this was a popular press book that was not intended to be read by other academics, but it reminded me of this niche genre of books, with experts from the physical sciences writing about human behaviour or history or what have you. Could you imagine coming across the inverse? A popular press book that purported to explain physics written by a historian?

There is some deep imbalance in how public perceptions of “general intelligence” seem to work - those in STEM are generally recognised for their competence, expertise, and intellectual acumen, and this recognition can be generalised, that at some level a demonstration of your expertise of eg astrophysics is a demonstration of your abilities of investigation writ large, that you have figured out some central underlying element of science that allows for basically limitless intellectual extension to any field or subject. A physicist can write a book about human history and be taken seriously by the general public on the assumption that physics is more difficult to understand than history, so any lower domain of investigation is open to them. The reverse is often not extended to a lot of the social sciences, particularly the theoretically-heavy social sciences; theory is just making bullshit up at the end of the day, it has no real practical application because any questions about the philosophy of thought or knowledge - how did we come to know what we know and under what conditions do we know these things - is just the indulgent wankery of people who can’t find a real job.

And of course it would be silly to insist that because you have read Hegel, an infamously difficult thinker, you know how to interpret the lab print-outs of electrochemists - I don’t want this goofy concept of general intelligence to be applied everywhere, I want it to go away entirely, but its current uneven applications across scientific fields indicates a broader problem with public conceptions of expertise and knowledge.

This probably has something to do with anti-communism on some level - social science is not generally regarded as “real science” (in no small part because social science is often the field of bureaucrats, and while animosity towards bureaucrats is deeply sympathetic, I suspect the reasons for this animosity are not themselves scientifically grounded), that while there is a public understanding of “objective facts” that exist prior and external to human interpretation, the politics of knowledge are hegemonically oriented around liberalism, to such an extent that any critique of the assumptions of knowledge are viewed as a dogmatic denial of reality done for the purposes of political infiltration and brainwashing. And I don’t feel totally unqualified to say this, given that this is basically the de facto response from students encountering Marxism for the first time in university. “Marx is too dogmatic” may as well be inscribed above the doors to lecture halls. Hell, Jordan Peterson made a nice little public career for himself railing against “post-modern neo-Marxism,” a phrase so nonsensical that the fact he was not immediately and permanently laughed out of the public arena for saying it is an indictment of how politically illiterate we are as a society!

And the infuriating thing is that a lot of social science scholarship (not just from the US but especially from the US) is complete horseshit, just pure evil garbage motivated solely by a desire to justify the fact that we do really need to keep killing tens of thousands of people a year to keep this whole party going. Every sociologist who calls themselves a “methodological individualist” is contributing to the long-standing tradition of eugenics scholarship but is too craven and vain to admit to this. If you had to describe the sum-total of the social scientific scholarly output of the west in a word, it would be ‘mysticism.’ Because it is the case that anti-colonial, anti-imperial, and anti-capitalist investigations of the political-economic conditions of the world have produced social scientific knowledge on par with the discovery of the atom, but it is not treated as such. “It is right to rebel” is not just a moral claim about violence but a scientific summary of human history.

But I think it is precisely this reactionary state of affairs that makes people devalue the social sciences as an actual site of legitimate investigation, that understanding the historical trajectory of ideas or the political conditions of life are valuable pursuits for any just society. Because social science deals with the social world, the political conditions under which the social world is investigated and understood are themselves bound up in questions of political and economic power. But this equally extends to the physical sciences - I know at least in environmental sciences, there is an ever-growing reckoning with climate change as an imminent threat to all life on earth, and environmental scientists cannot avoid talking about the political conditions of our planet even if all they want to do is study a river. Genocide is measurable in soil samples taken in the American continent. The separation of the environmental from the social is itself a historically contingent arrangement of knowledge.

But this is infuriating to even complain about because I don’t want to sound like an entitled academic or ego-bruised professional. I have no desire to start a faculty war with the STEM fields. I feel secure in my own expertise. I do not want anyone to “recognise my greatness” I am just profoundly lonely in this whole affair. and it just so happens that we exist in terribly anti-intellectual conditions for the most cruel and ugly reasons possible, and so we (me, I) have to suffer seeing books on sale claiming to give a general account of human history written by a physicist

[ozzgin]

Yandere School Q&A

I've gotten some related asks and thought I'd put them in a cleaner format, so I don't spawn another round of screenshots from my inbox.

Ohhh how would yan school react if y/n got hurt somehow?? Also quick question is her parents also platonic yans for them? Thanks!! - Anonymous

It only makes sense that the staff of the school is yandere material, too. The students may rush to help and insist they've got it under control, but the school nurse will be quick to act. It's the chance of a lifetime, having you to himself, and for longer than the usual standard checkup. The curtains are pulled, and the "do not disturb" sign is flipped. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly. You'll need to spend all day under his supervision.

The parents and all relatives are indeed platonic yanderes! I thought it'd be a nice touch since I've never approached the trope before.

YAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAA MORE YANDERE SCHOOLLLLLL You’re amazing!!!!! (I had to ask to make sure I used the right your/you’re) also is the darling yandere gonna keep sabotaging y/n? - @femboybasil

The tying up incident was actually an exception to what I originally planned, haha. For most of the competitions, darling yandere will guide (Y/N) and aid them for a flawless win. That's the comedy of it: he's indirectly doing the yandere part while trying to be discreet enough as to not alert the other yanderes. Additionally, (Y/N) helps him with the darling tasks. Though that part is very much expected by everyone from school. The Daring Academy teachers are probably observing the activities, baffled. "Who the hell is that student? What skill...what obliviousness. They should've applied to us."

If you’re comfortable with this concept, (since it’s a school-based series I don’t know if the reader and yanderes are minors are not, if they are then you don’t have to write this.) but obviously the students of the Yandere Academy are going to need to learn how to tie up their darlings once they’ve been captured. Would you mind writing a little blurb about it since Reader is the unofficially assigned darling stand-in for their classes? - Anonymous

This is the ask I used for the tying up idea in Part 3! To answer your worries, all of my stories involve 18+ characters! Just wanted to clear it up for anyone in doubt. The school/academy setup is more of a college/university kind of institution. I do love a good high school setup, but not for self insert romance.

I’d imagine that there’s a drama class at the yandere school to help the students learn how to act and seem innocent. What if they put on a musical or something like Phantom of the Opera (because of course it would be that) and reader got the role of Christine or the equivalent. Imagine all the yanderes fighting for the role of their love interests to get the excuse to kiss them, and other yanderes trying to sabotage them as tactfully as possible to keep the show going, but replace the leads to be alongside reader. Think that may be something cool to add/write about? No pressure of course! - Anonymous

You know the whole thing is going to turn into a ninja survival shitshow. They had hoped to never cast (Y/N) in any role, for everyone's safety. And for the most part, (Y/N) thankfully never showed any interest in the drama club.

The supervising teacher held (Y/N)'s application form with trembling hands. It seems their little club had finally run out of luck.

Worst part: the school can't even rely on the teachers. They're just as desperate to see their cute little (Y/N) perform on stage. "Maybe this job is too overwhelming for one person, sensei..." they'll smugly tell the original supervisor. "We could divide some tasks. Someone else could train (Y/N), for example..."

ok here me out, what if there is like a field trip or sports festival kind of thing where the Yandere and Darling academy meet up. Basically where a Yandere and a darling are made to pair up to go through the numerous activities (maybe ones that test their yandere/darling skills) so reader decides to pair up with clumsy Yandere ( who is in Darling academy) much to the displeasure of Yandere classmate. Maybe like a battle of the the Yanderes? - Anonymous

This was a little trippy to read, because it came right after part 3, haha. Which I feel is basically the same plot. Though it would be interesting to see how it'd play out if the stranger was Reader's best friend instead.

Reader excitedly approaches Clumsy!Yandere and asks him to work together, to the dismay of all other students. They're enraged. You can see it plainly: their hands tremble, their jaws are clenched, their eyes have a psychotic glint. Poor Clumsy!Yandere is in constant shivers, unaware of the death stares. You're cheerfully guiding him around, his hand in yours, happy to see your friend again.

[imagines-r-s]

☆ lost it to trying ☆

author’s note: so, a bitch came out of writing retirement for silly fun medical show™️, hope you lovely people enjoy :) also this was only supposed to be like 2k words, but here we are lmao

(slight - there will be more in the next part) dr. robby x reader (+ platonic dr. langdon x reader)

wc: 5k

summary: an already terrible shift goes from bad to worse when a sad truth is also revealed about your best friend

warnings: talks of drugs/overdose, talks of family death, very angsty, probably some slight medical inaccuracies

requests and taglist are open! feedback is always welcome!

(gif not mine)

You constantly walked around with “pep to your step” as Langdon constantly called it, which might have been totally true. You just held the ideology that if you can’t offer anything else, you can always offer a smile. It was a rough day and age, but maybe that smile could help someone - silly? maybe. Naive? You didn’t believe so.

It was a necessity in a job like this. Being a senior resident in the emergency department, you knew how quickly someone’s life could change and oftentimes there were only so many ways that you were able to applicably comfort them that didn’t include a medical device or diagnosis.

Walking into the Emergency Department, you were pulled towards the nurses station - or moreso, your favorite nurse. As soon as you made eye contact with Dana, your smile grew. “Someone’s happy this morning,” Dana quickly commented.

“Just excited to see my favorite charge nurse,” you circled around to give her a quick hug. “How are you today?”

”The day just started, sweetie, I can’t tell you how I am,” she said, with a quiet chuckle. “or how I will be for that matter. Who knows what will happen today.”

“Well, in that case, I hope you have an amazing day,” and with that you headed over to put your things in your locker. Setting down your bag and jacket, you opened your locker to see the picture that you kept of you and your family and friends - a quiet reminder of the good things in life.

Stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Collins and Langdon walk in behind you - or hear them talk to you for that matter. “Earth to y/n,” you heard Heather say, quickly snapping you out of your thoughts. “You okay?”

”She’s probably just thinking about Dr. Robby,” Langdon said, cheekily. Out of everyone here, you were definitely closest to the two of them - hell, the three of you had been locked at the hip since you were interns. You knew each other like clockwork, whether that translated in the ER or just in life. This was why you couldn’t accurately correct them on their assumption about the man they just mentioned.

“Why would I be thinking about him?” you said, keeping your face away from them, which only earned a laugh from Heather. Closing your locker door after making sure everything was in there, you finally turned around. Only to see them both smirking at you.

You simply groaned in response and made your way out from near the lockers, “I have no idea what either of you are talking about,” you said with a quick glance back at the two irritating individuals behind you, “I have no reason to be thinking about Dr. Robby, other than him being my boss. Thank you.”

Look, a crush is a crush; you just assumed it would have gone away by now. Especially given that there was no indication of it being reciprocated, you were just running with your feelings, hoping they would simply disappear eventually.

Plot twist: they hadn’t - and unfortunately, you didn’t see them going away anytime soon - but that was the least of your concerns as your shift was starting.

—

Today had not been an average day by any means. Between fresh faces to the ER to rats in the ER (not to mention the newbie that killed one), you knew there was still a lot more to come. You were proud of how the newbies were doing, even if Langdon was not having it with one of them.

”No, she just- she’s,” Langdon spoke, getting to the point of being out of breath.

“She what? She’s new, doing her job, and has also had to deal with your ass all day. I don’t understand what your issue is here. Give her grace for her first day, man,” you reasoned, as he followed you back towards the nurses station.

“You don’t get it. She acts on her own accord, she’s cocky, ignorant, and she acts like her, what? 90 days of work is the equivalent of what we’ve done to this point.”

”Frank. Calm down, in the most respectful way I can say that,” you sighed. “She’s good, I can’t deny that. She has also done a lot on her first day here that I know no one else ever had the balls to do, but like I said, she’s new, she’s adjusting. Try giving her more than a day before we immediately disqualify her as a good doctor.” You understood where he was coming from, but for him to be this dead set on his opinion day 1 was crazy. “In all honesty, I thought the same shit about you when we all started together, so relax.”

He gasped, “that’s preposterous.”

”Impressive vocabulary, Langdon. Recently read that thesaurus?”

“Don’t even, y/l/n.” You didn’t miss the glare he sent your way.

Robby, who you hadn’t noticed was working on a report at the computer closest to you, sent a confused look to both of you, “what did you think about him the first day?”

You looked over shocked for a moment before registering that he likely heard at least the last bit of the conversation, “uh, that he was a bitch.”

”Thought the same about you,” Langdon shot back on his way to check on a patient.

Robby furrowed his brows, “did you think anything that badly of me in the beginning?” You were too in your own world to register the actual concern in his voice. Truth was, he wanted to know exactly what you thought about him - not for any particular reason, of course.

“No, god no. Robby, I think- no, it was nothing bad, I promise,” you smiled in his direction. You had so much more to say, but this was not the place or opportunity that you wished to say them.

“Nothing bad?,” he questioned with a smile on his face,”What does that end up equating to?”

“Uh,” what did it mean? “nothing bad.”

A laugh left him at your words. “I didn’t think anything bad about you either-“

His words were interrupted by the sound of EMTs, “possible OD, 27 years old male, responsive to narcan on the scene, unresponsive now.”

Something felt off. You knew once you heard them announce what had happened. So when you looked back only to see your cousin on that gurney, your world stopped for a moment.

Only Robby, who was next to you, saw you hesitate for a moment, “y/n, you okay?”

You snapped back at the sound of his voice, “yeah, I- yeah, I’m good.”

Dismissing any thoughts that you had, you hustled over to the trauma room that Tristan had ended up in. You started running on muscle memory. It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t done before, the circumstances were just different this time.

”What do we have?” Langdon’s voice rang out as he stepped in.

”27 year old, OD,” Robby responded. You watched as Langdon fell into the same muscle memory, it wasn’t until he was able to see the face of the patient that he paused for a moment. Glancing up at you, he quickly noted that you were simply going through the motions, but he wasn’t sure if now was the time to mention it. Choosing against it, he elected to let you by - only with the exception that you weren’t going through multiple extremes to help. He knew you well enough to know that you needed to be in here.

“Do we have an ID on the patient?” Robby spoke up.

Most of the room responded with a quick no, but Langdon spoke up, ”Tristan y/l/n.”

You felt everyone’s eyes went to you immediately, especially Robby’s.

”You shouldn’t be in here,” Langdon spoke up again, but he didn’t stop you.

“I’m fine.” You knew that there was an apparent difference in your demeanor, but at this point you didn’t care. If anything happened to him and you didn’t do anything to help, you would never forgive yourself. “Did they say how they found him?”

”Unresponsive outside of his home, found by a neighbor. His legal guardians were contacted,” Perla said, from closer to the door.

His legal guardians being your parents. You took a deep breath before continuing what you were doing, “thank you.”

It took a while, but eventually he was stable. He was on a vent and you knew even with that there was still a heavy risk of him not being okay, but you chose to ignore. At this point the room was just you, but you kept your eyes on him in fear that he would disappear if you looked away.

You didn’t know, but outside of the room your friends were taking shifts checking in. Heather making sure you were okay after she had heard from Frank what happened; when she was busy Frank would switch with her; Dana and the other nurses kept a consistent eye on you; and Robby made sure you were okay from a distance.

When word got out that your parents were there, Dana made her way towards the door to make sure you knew, but Robby stopped her. “Yes?”

”I just want to.. check in on her and make sure she’s okay before they get here.”

A knowing smile grazed Dana’s face, “go check on your girl.”

”She’s not my girl, Dana. That’s highly impractical. ”

”You wouldn’t push to check in on her before their parents got in there if you didn’t care about her.”

”I care about everyone staffed in this ER.”

Dana sighed, “just go check on her, Robby.”

You continued to watch Tristan. You weren’t sure where things could have gotten to this point - you were the oldest between the two of you, but only by a year and some. The reason your parents became his legal guardian was this exact reason: they had both overdosed when the two of you were kids. Maybe if you had checked in more he wouldn’t have gotten to this point? Maybe-

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening, with a quick glance back, you saw the familiar blue jacket that would usually bring a smile to your face. “I’m sorry if I overstepped today for helping and I’m sorry that I’ve been in here for, I don’t even know how long. I just, I need to be here. Please don’t hate me or fire me or-“

At the sound of your rambling, Robby jumped to action and immediately went to your side, “if I were in your shoes, it would have taken them dragging me away to leave. I’m not mad. I don’t hate you. You’re not fired,” he moved to right where you were. “I just wanted to check on you before they brought your parents in.”

”Oh, god. They have to see him like this. Oh my god. I- this is my fault. They kept-“

”Hey, hey,” he moved to where he could look directly at you,“it’s not your fault by any means. Do not blame yourself for this. You’ve helped in all the ways that you can right now.”

”I just, maybe if I-“

”Life is full of maybes, this wasn’t your fault. You got that?”

”I got it,” you looked past Robby to see your cousin, who at this point you considered to be your brother, “I’m just, I’m supposed to protect him, you know. I know I’m not much older, but I am still the oldest between us. I’m supposed to be responsible.”

”It wasn’t your fault and you’re not responsible for everything that he does,” he reiterated, which made you look back at him.

“Thank you, Robby,” you paused, taking a deep breath before bringing up the inevitable, “You said my parents are here?”

”Yeah, they’re here,” to which you simply nodded and walked towards the door. “If you need to take the rest of the day, you can.”

”I won’t. Let me know where I can be busy,” you said, speaking in a tone that he had never heard from you before.

He made sure that you had something to keep you occupied, but he also watched you carefully as he walked your parents into your brother’s room.

“Um, our daughter, she works at this hospital. I wasn’t sure if she was working today or not? I called her, but she didn’t answer. Her name is y/n y/l/n?” your mother spoke up from beside him.

”She is in today, she’s currently with another patient, but I can tell her that you guys are here,” he was careful not to give a solid answer as you never actually acknowledged if you wanted to see them - if you could see them in that room with him - but he wasn’t going to push you one way or the other.

”Thank you, we appreciate it,” she said, pausing as she looked into the room your brother was in. A gasp leaving her as her hand clasped over his mouth, “is he going to be okay?”

“He’s stable right now and we’re doing everything we can to make sure that he recovers, but we’re still running tests to check for brain activity. I’ll go check on y/n for you, but you guys are more than welcome to go in there whenever you’re ready.”

”Thank you, again,” your father said, the first thing he had mentioned in the time of him being here.

You watched them from the room that you were in, you also watched Robby make his way towards you. He didn’t say anything this time, just checked in with the patient - who was getting stitches in her leg from an accident she had while running. You knew that you eventually needed to go in there, but you also knew you couldn’t face them. What do you say? What would they say?

Robby knew too much. He knew too many people involved, too much information on how this would turn out, and too much about you to know that you wouldn’t be okay if something happened to Tristan. He knew way too much as more tests kept coming in, but he also knew you were smart enough to know that this might not have a solid outcome.

You could tell that so many things were hanging in the balance, but you also knew that if you didn’t make it back to that room, you would regret it. So, you made the walk, opening the door, immediately being embraced by both your parents.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” your mom let out, a sob escaping her a moment later, “I love you so much.”

”I’m sorry, too, Mom. I helped him once he came in,” you spoke slowly, making sure to keep your voice as even as you could.

”We know, sweetie, you probably did way more than you should have,” your dad said, which didn’t help you trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“Yeah, my attending, I think he’s the one that walked you back here, he let me do way more than I should have,” the three of you waited in silence, knowing that if you didn’t, emotions would quickly get out of control for any of you.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Whenever Langdon checked his pupils, the look that crossed his face told you everything that you needed to know. You excused yourself for a moment, running to the bathroom as you immediately felt sick to your stomach. Leaving the stall and washing your hands, you were met by Dana waiting for you with a cup of water, “you going to be okay, honey?”

”Yeah, I’ll be fine. I promise. One way or the other,” you rushed out, in fear that you wouldn’t be able to respond without getting upset.

“Well, just know that we’re going to be here for you any way that we can. We have your back,” she said, reaching her hands out for a hug.

You simply smiled in response as you headed back, by the time you got back, you stood off to the side of the room. You knew that if Robby was in there, he was sharing with your parents that the brain scan they did came back with results of no brain activity. The sounds of both your parents crying echoed through your ears, even through the glass door. You couldn’t go in there.

Robby was trying his best to keep his composure, how did he tell someone that he cared so much about devastating news like this? He waited a moment before giving your parents the room, walking out and closing the door, he immediately noticed your presence.

He paused for a moment, his impulse told him to hug you, but he waited for how you would react.

“He’s brain dead, isn’t he?” you spoke, your eyes not leaving the ground.

Robby didn’t know how to respond. He knew that based off the way the usual smile that grazed your face - even on the worst of days - was nowhere to be seen, that you were on the verge of breaking. “The most recent scans showed no brain activity.”

You finally looked up, which made Robby notice the tears that were threatening to fall, “thank you, Robby. Uh, for trying everything. I know that if you couldn’t help than no one else could.” You looked in to see your parents hugging each other, “I feel like I disappointed them. I’m praised at home for being this ‘doctor that does excellent work’, yet when it actually mattered, I couldn’t save one of the most important people to me.”

”Hey,” he hadn’t intended to, but he moved his hand to hold the side of your face so that you were looking at him, “we did everything that we could to help save him. This wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“Thank you, I appreciate you a lot,” you felt his thumb move to wipe the one tear that had escaped.

“Of course, I’ll be in there soon to inform your family and talk to them with the social worker, I don’t know if you wanted to be there when this happened.”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed once more before admitting that you didn’t want to be in there, but you couldn’t avoid it. Your family was so important to you that you knew that if you weren’t present when they heard the news, you would never forgive yourself.

Sitting next to your mother, you simply listened as Robby spoke the words that you had heard from him many times before - this was just the first time that it was applicable to you. The tiles on the floor grew more and more interesting as you listened to your parents reaction as Robby’s voice was close to cracking.

You couldn’t recall anything that had happened after that. You were there, but you were also thousands of miles away. Everyone was ready to be there for you when it happened - the inevitable break - but you seemed to be forcing yourself to be okay. That’s all you could do at this point.

——

It took everything in Robby to not drag you out of this damn hospital himself. You were visibly torturing yourself trying to keep your emotions at bay, but he also understood that right now, you needed this. You needed the routine, the systems, the flow; all of this was keeping you in balance.

Everyone tried. They tried to get you to go home with your parents, but you weren’t budging. They also knew that they couldn’t tip toe around you directly without making any alarms go off in your head. The constant stimulation of the Emergency room was the only thing keeping you going.

Robby could tell - hell, he knew the feeling himself. He knew that as every case and patient you had pressed on, you were just driving yourself as far away from the loss you had just faced as you could. He also knew that you could only drive yourself away so far.

He didn’t know how she had done it, but Mel had somehow convinced you to let her work with you for the majority of the time that you had been going non-stop. Truth was that Mel assumed that with her being a second year, she could fall under the front of using it as a learning moment - she was still technically learning, but she knew that it made more sense than anyone else asking to work with you for the day.

Truth was, somehow Mel hadn’t made any notion that something was wrong, she was simply going about her day as if it was any other - which was exactly what you needed right now. The way that everyone else was working, even if they weren’t trying, made it seem like they were talking you off some sort of ledge. Wrong? No, but it wasn’t what you needed to be around until you were ready.

Langdon had spoken very kindly of Dr. Melissa King, and based off of what you had seen yourself, you saw why. She had the care of the patients in mind, while simultaneously being extremely efficient. “Are you and Dr. Langdon close?”

Her question brought you out of your thoughts for a moment, “yeah, probably one of my best friends. He’s an excellent doctor… kind of a dick at times, but I unfortunately can’t say anything bad about that man. Why?”

”Oh, I was just curious. You both have similar habits when it comes to patients, so I was just wondering.”

You smiled at that for the first time in a while, “yeah, Dr. Robby taught both of us - well, us and Collin’s - so if you really pay attention, you can pick up on similarities between all of us. You seem to have made a solid impression on him though. Even if it’s only been a few hours of working together, he spoke very highly of you.”

”Oh,” she spoke, unsure how to respond.

”Nothing bad, King. You’re very good at what you do, I can see it,” you spoke. This conversation being a solid refresher for you, in comparison to everything else that had happened in the last few hours.

“Thank you.”

”I’m going to go, you got this patient?”

”Yeah, yeah, I got it,” she said, excited that you trusted her to take care of this - even if it was a minor injury.

Robby watched from the Nurse’s station, happy that he could visibly see that you were engaging with someone on a non-sympathy-based level. Any of the remaining thoughts in his head were cut off by Santos appearing right in front of him. ”Yes?”

”I had a question.”

”Okay, ask away, Santos.”

”I- Look, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but I didn’t know what to say to anyone about this. I-“

”Santos, if it has to do with my ER, I would like to know about it,” he said, his eyes still on you periodically.

“I don’t mean to get anyone in trouble, but in the few cases that I’ve worked with Dr. Langdon, there have been certain inconsistencies.”

”Like what? Medically? Personally?”

Robby watched as Santos paused before she spoke again, “with medications.”

All alarms started going off. Inconsistencies with medications could imply millions of things - stealing, dealing, using; the list goes on and on. If Langdon was the constant factor in the cases that she worked where this was an issue, there was unfortunately no room for questioning. Still, he planned on having Dana check on the cases that Santos mentioned specifically - triple checking at that.

Tunnel vision had him focused on the cases, up until he looked up and saw you walking out from the patient's room, then talk to Langdon for a moment; a small smile appeared on your face for the first time that he had seen in hours. He hoped this wasn’t true. Practically prayed, even though he wasn’t sure what he believed in at the end of the day.

Stealing drugs from patient’s heavily implied one thing: addiction - and based off the events of today, you weren’t a stranger to it.

“Thank you for telling me, Santos,” he paused, preparing to go talk to Langdon, “oh, and please, whatever you do. Don’t let this info get out to anyone else.” He simply earned a nod in response.

Robby decided that this was all the proof that he needed to know that the universe was not afraid of beating down on people that didn’t deserve it. He barely knew where to go from here, he knew that there wasn’t much leeway for him to give Frank any grace in a situation like this. At this point, with the knowledge that it would hurt you, he didn’t care to dish out much grace.

He didn’t know if his anger was targeted at the fact that one of his best senior residents had made such a poor decision or that his best resident made a decision that would impact you simultaneously. He couldn’t fathom the idea of how this information would make you feel, so he made the executive decision that if he could help it, you wouldn’t know.

He didn’t realize that he had been in his head for that long, but by the time he had stopped moving, he found himself observing the patient that you, Santos, and Langdon were working on.

You and Langdon moved in sync once again as you took care of the patient, Santos spoke, but Langdon gave an expression of irritation that you immediately shut down. “Smart thinking, Santos,” you said, sending a pointed look in Langdon’s direction.

This only egged Langdon on, as he started yelling at the intern; mentioning that she made a mistake in not calling him in immediately. “Is it just ignorance that makes you think you know more? You lack experience and need to understand your place.”

”Dr. Langdon,” you addressed him formally, even though at this point he wasn’t acting with the professionalism that matched that title.

“No, she needs to understand that her role here is to learn, listen, and follow. Not try to lead doctors that have years of experience here. You’re enjoying a title that doesn’t even really apply to you and where it does apply, you get cocky. You need to remember that you’re a beginner and it’s not your place to call the shots.”

You were about to interrupt him once more when Robby’s voice called him out. “Dr. Langdon,” he spoke, causing everyone in the room to go quiet. He simply checked on the patient before asking to speak to Langdon privately.

Where that outburst came from, you had absolutely no idea. You simply redirected everyone in the room to help make sure that your patient was stable. Maybe damage control was needed?

Assuming that they walked towards the locker room, you quietly made your way over to where you heard both men’s voices echo. Waiting for a moment, you tried your best to eavesdrop - making the evaluation of if it was worth it to intervene. You didn’t move closer until you heard a moment of silence, only to hear Robby’s voice boom as soon as you entered the room.

“Open your fucking locker or I’ll have security break it open, your choice, Frank,” he spoke, the mention of Langdon’s first name told you how serious this actually was. So you simply stayed quiet.

Hanging back you watched as Langdon hesitated before entering the code on his locker, Robby immediately moved to throw everything out before grabbing a bag. A bag of medications.

A bag of hospital medications. What the hell?

They both turned to you. Maybe you had made the mistake of thinking out loud.

“y/n,” Langdon spoke first. “It’s not what it looks like.”

”So, that’s not a bag of what I can only assume to be patient medications in your locker? Frank, what the actual fuck?” You started pacing, “please don’t tell me that’s what it is.”

”y/n, I can explain, okay? Just hear me out, please,” he said, sounding like the air was gradually being stripped from his lungs the longer that you kept looking at him like you didn’t know him.

“Yes, Frank. Please explain,” Robby said, “I just need to know that these won’t match any of our records for patients. If that’s the case,” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

“Okay, okay,” he walked closer to you, trying to reach out to you, “whenever I was helping my parents move, I messed up my back somehow and one of our own prescribed me some pain meds and muscle relaxers. I was just tapering off, I swear. You guys have to believe me.”

You looked up, trying to keep emotions that you had tried to keep hidden all day at bay. “So your bright idea was to not only continue going past the prescribed timespan, but also stealing from patients. Do you not understand how idiotic and reckless that is, Frank?”

“I’m not getting high or anything, I just needed things to be manageable. I’m lowering my doses as we speak, okay? I’m not an addict. Could an addict do what we’re doing right now?”

You sent a pointed look at him, “trust me, Frank, I’m well aware of how far an addict can go in their day to day life.”

He sighed, ”y/n, please know it’s not like that.”

”It sure seems like it,” you looked at Robby, who’s face expressed thousands of emotions: guilt, sympathy, and anger being the primary ones. “Pretty solid timing on this, too, Frank.”

There was a silence that fell between the three of you. “You’re done,” Robby finally spoke up, causing both your and Langdon’s face to snap to look at him.

“Robby,” he tried.

“No, you’re done.”

You sighed, wiping a tear that had fallen. “Just go, Frank.” You started walking away.

“y/n, wait,” he rushed to grab your arm, but Robby immediately intercepted.

”Just let her go and go home,” he spoke, throwing his belongings to him.

You turned before leaving the locker room, ���Frank?”

”Yeah?” He asked, hope filling him up that there might be a chance to fix things.

“I hope you know that this risked a lot more than just your medical license with this.”

——

i do plan on making a part 2! unless you guys want the angsty cliffhanger lol

xoxo,

ash

[queerofthedagger]

made a decision

dad come pick me up i'm scared (<- almost 31-yr-old adult who has to make big life decisions)

[scrompsautobotsrchives]

Hello! You could write with Bumblebee ROTB where he and the reader are good friends and the autobot team receives a threat that includes hurting the reader, Bee becomes alert and watches over her, that with every little thing the reader does he looks at her, or every time For the reader to turn around, Bumblebee looks away because he doesn't want her to know that he is being overprotective of her because they are both good friends.

I saw your post about applications being open :D (Sorry if the wording is wrong, I'm using the translator) have a nice day <3

Protection squad

No need to apologise anon, I think I understand what your asking for so here you go :D. Word count:716

You always looked forward to after school. It always meant that you could hang out with the Autobots. Bee, especially, is super excited for you to burst through the doors. He patiently waits for 3PM to ring. Just like that, he immediately saw you, trying so hard to stay still, he was just so happy to see his bestie after 6 cruel hours.

It had been fairly quiet back at the base of operations, with Optimus keeping an eye on any Decepticon activity, Mirage then heard Bee's engine as you entered the building.

"Sup y/n" He saluted you two from where he sat.

"Hey mirage, What's been happening ??" You said as you got out, Bee transforming back.

"Nothing much, Primes' got his optics locked in tight on some cons that have been getting cozy a little too close" He gestured so and so, You all haven't noticed any form of Decepticon activity ever since the trio crashed onto earth, But Optimus was always way too cautious.

"They do best to stay away, But we're keeping an eye on it" Optimus turned his head briefly to look down and greet you before going back to the screen... A message then popped up on the screen, a voice message, it started to play a little bit crackly before Optimus finally got it stable enough for it to be clear.

"This message is for Optimus Prime... We are aware of your team's location, and your human contact..."

You looked up at the screen when it was said about a human contact, surely it couldn't be you could it... "Who is it ??" Optimus held a hand out to you gently so he could continue listening.

"We are prepared to take action, If you do not surrender yourself. Your human is on the line..." The message ended there.

You and the Autobots looked at each other, Ok you were now fully scared. How did they know of them and you... Optimus frowned slightly, but bee was also very worried.

"How do they know ??" You looked up at them.

"Cons..." Mirage muttered.

"But they couldn't have found you guys already, whoever sent that has to be bluffing... right ??"

"So our enemies are closer than we have had anticipated... we will keep an eye on you and find our intruders, Bumblebee I want you to keep an eye out for y/n" He looked at his commrade.

"Yes sir..." The radio flicked as he made a salute gesture.

Bumblebee was not going to let any con hurt you, no matter what. But along the way you began to notice how protective he was... sometimes even to the extreme, He parked a little closer to the school doors, following you to your weekend job, Hell even when you had to go to the bathroom he got nervous !!

You knew Bee was just trying to look out for you, But you needed to have your space as well. It's also been a couple weeks since the message... But he still hasn't let up. Every time you turned around, he would always distance himself and feign what he was doing. What him ?? He wasn't looking, tapping his digits together and looking away ooh a butterfly.

"Bee I know your looking at me..." You sighed

He whirred a little and turned around a bit more, shuffling and flipping up his doors to shield the sides of his face. "No you don't..."

You frowned a little and gently walked to him, placing a hand gently on his digit. "I know you want to keep me safe buddy... But this... is a little extreme..."

He whirred sadly, He just wanted to keep you safe, he didn't want to let any Decepticon hurt you... He didn't want to lose the one thing that helped him with his time on earth, He was doing it cause you were his best friend.

"I know..." You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him, nice and tight. "But I'll be ok... I promise" You gently placed your hand on his cheek as he leaned into the touch. "Keep... you... safe" the radio flicked as he happily nuzzled his free cheek against yours.

Bee will keep you safe for as long as he lived, always.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 4 5 6 7 💐

The third time Eddie stopped by Harrington Floral, it was simply because he felt drawn to it.

The world had been dumping on him lately, and looking at the arrangements was a nice distraction from another college application rejected, another job prospect gone down the toilet because he just “wasn’t the right fit”, his friends leaving Hawkins because they had gotten into colleges, Corroded Coffin officially disbanding, and losing his D&D group, having passed the torch on to Will after he graduated.

Real life wasn’t shaping up to be very metal at all.

The only good thing to transpire was the news Wayne had broken to him last night over their Swanson TV dinners. He had met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

They had been dating for a few months now, much to Eddie’s surprise. Wayne said when you got to his age, you didn’t fuck around with time. When you knew, you knew.

He wanted Eddie to meet her before he popped the question—not that he needed Eddie’s blessing. It was great for him. He deserved to have someone, especially after going so long denying himself the chance.

Maybe Wayne could finally start his own family that didn’t include his mooching failure of a nephew.

Eddie had about a month to get his shit together, find a (legal, decent paying) job, a place to live, and scram. Wayne told him he didn’t have to be so hasty, that the trailer was his home and he could stay as long as he damn well pleased, but there was no way Eddie was about to crash Wayne’s newlywed life.

It was time for Eddie to finally make his own way in the world. He just wished he knew what direction to take.

In his pocket was the phone number of a dude who needed a roommate. He’d torn it off an ad he found taped to a payphone outside the mall.

He would call tonight. Maybe it would pan out. Maybe it wouldn’t.

The When I Think of You bouquet had long since been sold and replaced. The new one in the display window was called Wedding Bells, Eddie guessed, because it had bell-shaped flowers. They were an assortment of white, reds and yellows, with baby’s breath layered in between.

Maybe Eddie would place an order for Wayne’s wedding. He wondered, too, if he would ever get married. Probably not. It wasn’t legal and most likely wouldn’t ever be.

Not only that, but he would have to find someone willing to spend their entire life with him. That seemed… as likely as hell freezing over. Eddie knew he was a lot to handle for a single week, let alone years or a whole damn lifetime.

Eddie leaned over to smell one of the dramatic, bridal white Angel’s Trumpets.

He’d always enjoyed flowers. He had a tattoo of one on his inner arm, another small ode to his mother, but he wanted more. He wished there wasn’t such a stigma about men liking them. It wasn’t fair, but neither was most shit in life.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

steve’s pov is next!

[simp-ly-writes]

Office Love (pt.1)

What if Vox had an assistant that soon became more than that?

Pairing: Vox x assistant!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content near the end and canon-typical language.

A/N: something different to what I usually write- hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist (PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ When the application advertisement first flashed against your social media feed- you clicked past it very quickly before one of your friends was ushering you to apply. They had been working with the V's for a number of years now and produced a plethora a fan-favorite shows

↳ When you application got accepted and you were being thrown into a suit for the interview, you were all the more thankful when the overlord themselves were not hosting yet the managers were. A more than few warning here and there- but that was with every job you worked in hell. You didn't work hard enough, you were better off dead- simply put.

↳ You did not often see your boss in person after signing the contract with him day one. Only emailing him his schedule that was often cancelled mid-way through the day and you were running out of excuses for his clients

↳ Velvette and Valentino were often more intimidating that Vox. You had gotten used to his tantrums, PR nightmares, and televised cancellations that were often fixed with a light bit of hypnotization that you could only roll your eyes at before going back to your emails

↳ You would memorize his every need, knowing his favorite meals and coffee preferences, when he needed to recharge and even how to text exactly like him. You kept track of every social media handle that held his name, growing his followers while riffing on Alastor- an action that Vox dearly appreciated

↳ As time would progress, you would become too good at your job. So much so that his other six assistants had all gotten fired for lack of polish as Vox excused it. Clinking his coffee mug to yours sat at your desk. He hardly used his own office these days, often taking calls at your computer as you sat on your desk- off to the side as you rearranged his schedule once again

↳ You were starting to become his shadow and he always noticed when you were gone for a minute too long. He liked the reassurance your presence brought him- he enjoyed knowing that you would always know what to say in order to benefit the company and find ways for him not to interaction with people he disliked

↳ Velvette and Valentino noticed this as well- how close you had gotten to their business partner without a second thought. Sometimes you would even show up in replacement for Vox when one of their branches had gone down once again and often times they wished it was you that addressed the problem rather than the man himself

↳ When a reality show comes out, highlighting the lives of overlords all over the city including the three V's (mostly them though for PR that they desperately needed and had made multiple comments on). It did numbers and your friend from earlier could not have been happier getting that promotion to head producer of the show

↳ You soon became a fan favorite for your witty comebacks at the TV head as he wold only smile in return- liking that you had the heart to knock him down a few pegs. The fans would stalk everyones social media profiles, liking each image that had you just cropped out of it

↳ Vox had insisted that you were not to be seen in any of the media production- something about no wanting to corrupt your mind as well. You could only shake your head at this information- all you ever did was stare at screens all day, this comment made Vox's box go pink as his speech buffered. Taking a second to rethink your wording, your cheeks had appeared red while the cameras rolled and money starting pouring in

↳ The fans demanded more attention put towards you, screaming at you from behind the barricades as you walked the corporate building each morning. "CAN I GET A PICTURE WITH YOU," "I SHIP IT," "WORK FOR ME INSTEAD." They started to shove one another over, trying to get your attention as your feet picked up pace

↳ Vox had made his way through the wires and various security cameras settled around the neighbourhood. He wrapped an arm around your waist, ensuring that when the barricade fell and you were swarmed that you would not be dragged away with the crowd

↳ You voiced your thanks once safely in the building as Vox announced a surprise for your recent good work- this was their most profitable quarter yet and you would have Velvette tailored work to wear each day. Picking up the various blue suits you eyed them suspiciously to those of your boss. Vox only shrugged his shoulders before taking a call

↳ The dating allegation grew every week as blushed heavily at the headlines, Vox who now was only found in your office asked what was making you have such a reaction, even when he was in the middle of a meeting. You quickly hid your screen as he could only chuckle, sparking it back to life and projecting it on the monitor

↳ "Oh, so THIS is what has you all red- me is it?" Vox states with pride, leaning over the table and into your personal space as your blush only grows down your neck. You take a sip of your now cold coffee, hiding a wince as you get back on track with answering Valentino back

↳ When you arrive the next morning, dead flowers are found on your desk that make you chuckle, you read the note with a smile before handing the TV man his coffee for the morning, your chairs right beside one another as you work in tandum

↳ Years into your work now, you barley find yourself going home, choosing to stick for the V's movie nights together that they insist on you being present for alongside finding it easier to let Vox know of scheduling changes last minute from within your shared apaprtment

↳ After much demand, you and Vox have a one on one livestream interview for the public within your apartment, you both make small touches to one another, fixing his tie, he holds your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb- the fans are losing their shit as the other to V's sit back and rake in the cash

↳ A question about your work ethic and sex-worker allegation gets read out by Velvette that has Vox glitching out with rage as you pull on the back of his jacket, urging him to calm down as you loop your arm in his, leaning into his side, "run that by me one more time, Velvette," Vox states with a twitch as you blink your eyes towards her- pleading that she does not.

↳ After a particularly good corporate event, you find yourself in Vox's bed as he urges you not to leave, his voice is merely murmurs in your ear as you do not have the heart to roll away from. Soon these off hand-nights become a more common occurrence that as Valentino the slitest bit jealous at first, but when he surprises you in the mornings with a new package that got sent to the wrong apartment, he cannot help put wink at seeing the marks on your skin

↳ You and Vox never made anything official, you were still his assistant of course- his assistant that he would always have a hand on a bit too low for public attention. A worker who was NOT allowed to be asked on a date by someone else. And the person he jumped to protect against the smallest threat but against your name

(PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

[b-skarsgard]

Bill Skarsgård’s transformation into the hideous-looking vampire Count Orlok for Robert Eggers’ “Nosferatu” was an arduous process — with the end goal of making the Swedish actor completely unrecognizable.

“I was not so interested in Bill’s features, aside from his eyes,” Eggers says of Skarsgård. “The things that make [Orlock] not just an intimidating, masculine human being, is the fact that he’s also decaying and dead. Even the design of the teeth needed to be something that could be fucked up.”

Oscar nominated makeup effects designer David White created over 62 prosthetic pieces that required a team of six to apply. Skarsgård was covered from head to toe, including elements for his tongue and eyes. Only the soles of his feet were untouched.

read the at the link or under the cut

The film reimagines F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent classic starring Max Schreck, whom Eggers wanted to reference when it came to Orlock’s look. One such detail was in Orlok’s hands and fingers. “I wanted to extend Bill’s fingers ever so slightly, and I [asked] David about creating something to push the envelope,” says Eggers.

In coming up with a concept for the hands and fingers, White had one that was quickly scrapped. “I was playing with the idea of soft mechanics to extend them, but they’re really long and they weren’t as dexterous,” he says. The idea was too cumbersome for something that had to be very sharp. Orlok also needed to hold things, open boxes and write letters.

White used a dense material so Skarsgård could feel things. It took a while to get to the final design, but in the end, the nails were a quarter of an inch longer on the tips. They were custom-made to be “gnarly and weathered,” White says. “‘Arthritic’ was a word we looked at, as well as having them slightly unusual in their angle.

“They’re not quite right, as if they’ve been used for so many years.”

In a nod to Schreck’s silhouette, Eggers also wanted Orlok to be hunchbacked. White built a one-piece prosthetic with a thick foam insert. “That took away the weight, otherwise, it would be 46 pounds of silicon,” White says. Breaking down the application, he adds, “The back goes on first, the front overlaps the back, but the rest is all in little sections across the arms and the legs. It’s between 18 to 25 different pieces of muscle which overlap. They were pre-painted and ready to go.”

Orlok’s full reveal comes when Ellen’s (Lily-Rose Depp) husband Thomas (Nicholas Hoult) heads to the crypt and finds the sarcophagus. Orlok is in a state of decay with intricate veining and coloring.

White made it darker on the underside because he’s been lying down, but his front is lighter and waxier.

Florin Lăzărescu, the film’s Romanian folklore consultant, was the inspiration for the blood-pooling color. Says Eggers, “He reminded me that the vampire is often described as being red-faced in Romanian folklore, which was a concept that was very intimidating to do. What David came up with was beautiful, and he did paint jobs where this guy was red as hell.”

White was tasked with creating full body prosthetics, including a penis. “It was a necessary piece to make,” he laughs. Eggers adds, “I was allowed one penis [for] this movie. He rises out of the coffin naked. That in itself is a bit of a phallic act, as is most of everything that Orlok does in the movie.”

Every detail of a decayed Orlok was considered, including a dead eye made possible with special contact lenses. “I even made a sock of a tongue that Bill could use in certain scenes, which was all gnarly and scored and black and horrible, you know. So poor Bill, he took it well,” White says.

[oftenwantedafton]

personal space | steve raglan x f!reader

The new hire is delivered right to the door of Steve Raglan’s office one rainy Monday morning. He can feel the nervous energy wafting from you. But he’s good at this. Used to dealing with anxious job applicants from less than ideal backgrounds.

He can handle some new college grad.

Explicit, 2.8k words, ongoing revision started 3/27/25

ao3 link

The problem with being good at one’s job is that everyone relies on that person. Got a question? Just ask Steve Raglan. He’ll tell you what form to use or find the phone number needed. A long term resident of the Hurricane area, he’s virtually a walking guidebook for directions. He knows all the roads. The best shortcuts. What stores to shop at. What establishments to avoid. Hell, he even has some great recipes. A throwback to when he’d been employed in some capacity in the food industry or something. It’s never been explicitly stated just what that former career had entailed, only vaguely rumored and politely deflected whenever he’s questioned about it a little too directly. Nevertheless, he is the go-to man. Everyone in the career guidance office at the Department of Social Services knows it.

So of course the new hire is delivered right to the door of his office one rare rainy Monday morning, looking like a drowned rat, carrying what has obviously been your school backpack for many years, a worn looking specimen with a chipped zipper and a blotchy ink stain marring the nylon material. You’re clad in cheap polyester office attire, a gray skirt and blazer that are off the rack, not quite fitting you properly. The hem of the skirt hits your legs at an awkward level. The sleeves of the jacket are too short. Your pinned hair is already falling out of place. He can feel the nervous energy wafting from you. But he’s good at these types of situations, accustomed to dealing with anxious job applicants from less than ideal backgrounds. He can handle some new college grad.

He’d rather not, of course; he prefers working alone. It’s more efficient. Faster. You’re going to make the day difficult, he can already tell. Still he plasters on a fake smile and drags one of the chairs intended for clients around his desk, still leaving room between his own leather specimen and the mustard yellow vinyl padded hardback that’s a relic from the 1970’s.

“Welcome. I’m Steve Raglan.” His hand shake is firm, confident. Your own is tentative, weak. You’re going to have to work on that. “You can put your things down over there.” He gestures towards a small table in the corner next to a spare ream of copy paper. Down goes the backpack and out comes a spiral bound notebook and a pink pen that looks to be decorated in rainbows and is that glitter? You sit stiffly in the chair and fold back the cover of the notebook, then lay the writing utensil on top of it. After an awkward pause you clear your throat, swiping at one of the stray damp hairs trailing across your cheek. The silence lengthens. Steve’s chair creaks as he leans forward. “Where did you study?”

“University of Utah.”

“You from that area?” You nod. “First time away from home?” Another nod. He suppresses the urge to sigh. Great. He was going to have to deal with you being homesick at some point, too. Salt Lake City was at the opposite end of Utah. A good four hour drive north, minimum. “What made you end up here?”

“I went online to see other social workers in the state. You have a great reputation. A lot of awards.” You nod in the direction of the framed papers on the walls. “So I thought: why not learn from the best?”

Raglan grunts. The praise means nothing to him. The job doesn’t either, if he’s being perfectly honest. It’s his former profession that’s his true passion. This is just…well, it’s just something to do for the time being, a reliable source of income with the added bonus of sometimes providing ideal recruits for work relating to said former profession. So yes, he’s good at it. But it doesn’t mean he likes it. “You might as well put that away. It’s not a lecture hall. You’re not going to be taking notes. You’re just here to observe. Pay attention to verbal cues. Learn the vernacular. Become accustomed to interacting with people.”

Your cheeks flush. You close the notebook and tuck it inside your backpack but leave the pen out, your fingers fussing anxiously with the rainbow and yes, that is indeed glitter encrusting the clip on the cap. He notices you staring at the things on his desk: the white rabbit’s foot keychain on the ring of keys set next to his eyeglass case; the powder coated rabbit shaped wire frame for sorting mail; the coffee stained coaster with the logo for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza sitting on the desk blotter, a yellow bear and yellow rabbit standing side by side waving jovially, mouths stretched in toothy grins. “You like rabbits, huh?”

Another dismissive sound escapes the experienced career counselor. He’s not about to explain his fondness, that stubborn nostalgia, to someone like you. Silence descends on the pair once more, heavy and uncomfortable. The burden of conversation seems to have fallen upon his shoulders. “Do you drink coffee?”

You shake your head. “I try to avoid caffeine.”

The bearded man pushes back from the desk, walking over to the small coffee bar lining the wall beneath the solitary window in his office. He leaves the room long enough to fill the pot from the sink in the break room across the hall. Once he returns he fills the reservoir and presses the filter into place, then spoons out coffee grounds, the measurement imprecise, eyeballed from years and years of practice. Finally he flips the orange switch at the base of the machine and his gaze wanders to the window. His office faces the rear of the building. There’s a small pond out back. Trees. Benches. Even a little bit of grass, kind of a rarity in this traditionally arid, desert-like climate. Overall a nice place to have lunch when the weather is good. Not today, obviously. The surface of the pond ripples as each drop of rain strikes it. Everything looks very green. The coffee machine begins to chortle, coughing up angry sounding hisses and spits. Dark liquid emerges in a steady hot trickle. He fills a mug and settles back behind the desk, then takes a sip. Your attention seems to be focused on the awards covering the walls, or perhaps the framed district map nearby. The older man sighs and glances at the clock. It’s five past eight. Another twenty five minutes to go before his first appointment.

It’s going to be a long day.

***

The morning passes relatively uneventfully.

None of the first few clients are particularly problematic. It becomes an automatic reflex to introduce you, the same spiel given each time. You are a new employee, there to observe. Then Steve simply ignores you, pretending you aren’t there and conducting the discussion as he normally would. Mid morning he announces it’s time for a break. You remain sitting. He stands and stretches. He’s six foot four and being seated doesn’t do his body any favors. The crack of the synovial fluid being pushed between the spaces of his joints is loud. The joys of aging, he thinks bitterly. His eyes flick to your seated form. “Get up. Go somewhere.” The sharp tone clearly indicates this is not a suggestion. You jerk to your feet, stepping out into the hallway, and he sighs with relief. Alone at last. He makes his way back to the coffee pot, a little huff of disappointment escaping when he realizes he’s already nearly emptied it. Usually it lasts longer than this. It’s that new employee, setting his nerves on edge a bit, he decides. Perhaps he should wait on brewing another batch.

The voice of the orientee behind him interrupts his thoughts. “I…I don’t really know my way around. I don’t know where to go.”

Steve sets the glass pot back onto the burner and thumbs off the machine. So much for a respite. Now he’s to be a tour guide, too. He knows he’s being a little unfair. Unreasonable. Of course you can’t be expected to know the layout. The routine. It’s only your first day. But it doesn’t rankle any less. So inconvenient. Bothersome. Another sigh rushes from his lips. He doesn’t think he’s ever heaved so many regretful sounds in one day before. “Follow me.” He brushes past you without waiting to see if you’re trailing behind, beginning to point things out. “Restroom, copy room, break room. Emergency exit. The rest of the offices are down this hallway. Another restroom.” He turns and almost stumbles into you. You’re like a shadow, close and clingy. He really doesn’t care for it. “Personal space is something that people tend to respect in this profession.” Another flush. You take a step back. “Further.” Another. “A little more.” Still another. “Better.” You pass the break room again and he gestures towards it. “Why don’t you go spend some time there. Introduce yourself. Think of it as practicing your social skills. Come back in fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t have a watch,” you murmur.

He clucks his tongue. “You need to get one, then. Time is important. Yours. The clients’. You can hardly expect to keep appointments without it. There’s a clock on the wall in there.” The career counselor escapes back to his office. Honestly. They are really testing his patience with this one. He jerks the coffee pot free, his earlier resolve to wait shattering beneath his exasperation. He’s definitely going to need more caffeine to get through the rest of his shift.

***

The real trouble begins in the afternoon.

Steve can smell the alcohol long before the man ever finds his way into the seat across from his desk. His body automatically leans back, away from the applicant, the folder containing the man’s resume and background information clutched in his hands. He does his best to remain professional, keeping his expression neutral while focusing right on the heart of the matter: four terminated positions in as many weeks.

“‘S’not my fault. If my bitch wife hadn’t left—”

“—I’d prefer you not use that language, sir.” Steve interrupts firmly. “And your ex’s affairs are her own. We’re here to discuss you. Your employers state that you’ve been coming into work late, if at all. Poor attendance. Multiple complaints of being rude to customers. The most recent one says that you actually assaulted someone.”

“That’s a fu— a lie,” he corrects.

“Be that as it may. You’re going to need to complete a drug test and enter a rehabilitation program before you’ll even be considered for another position.”

“I don’t have a drinking problem,” he mutters. “You don’t even know me. Just because a few people lied…”

“I’m not here to judge you. I’m simply stating the facts. Our goals are the same. We want to see you employed successfully.”

The drunken man’s eyes shift to you, lingering a little too long on places that clearly aren’t your face. Steve wheels forward again, positioning himself a little in front of his companion as if to shield you from the client’s unsavory gaze.

“I can recommend an excellent local program.” Raglan pulls a drawer open and sets a pamphlet on the desk. “Give them a call. That’s the first step towards getting you back to work and getting your life back in order.”

The applicant makes no move to pick up the offering. “I’m not going.”

“Then I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do for you.”

“You’re supposed to be getting me a job.”

“You are supposed to be getting yourself a job. I can’t assist you in this current condition.”

“What about her? Maybe she can help me.” Another leer in your direction. You begin to stammer a response.

Steve rises to his feet and the words die in your throat. His fingers are curled tightly against his palms as he glares over the edge of his glasses. “I think you had better leave.”

“Or what?” The job hopeful lurches to his feet and you gasp. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Security will escort you out. Or I will. I really don’t think you want me to be the one to do it.” His voice is cold as he lifts the phone, waiting to see what choice will be made. The client hesitates, the bravado swiftly evaporating. Something terrifying lights the career counselor’s eyes. It’s not an idle threat.

His shoulders slump in defeat. “I’ll leave.”

Steve dials an extension. “Yes. Can you make sure the gentleman leaving my office makes it outside? And he’s not to return. Yes. Thank you.” He drops the phone back down and glances at you. Your eyes are wide, and he can see you shaking. “You alright?” You swallow and nod. “Not every aspect of this job is going to be pleasant. It’s just as well you get a lesson in that now. The key is to maintain control and de-escalate the situation.”

He settles back into his seat, smoothing his tie before shutting the folder and placing the pamphlet back in the drawer.

“What would you have done? If you went outside with him, I mean.”

Raglan flashes a grin that looks anything but friendly. “Don’t worry about it.”

You remain quiet for the rest of the afternoon.

***

The shift finally, mercifully draws to a close.

Steve unhooks the umbrella from the coat rack tucked in the corner, shaking it to dislodge any dust that might have accumulated. It’s unusual for Hurricane to have wet weather, especially prolonged dampness like this. The accessory doesn’t typically see much use, left there for rare occasions such as this one.

You, of course, haven’t brought one. You haven’t even brought a proper jacket, unless you count that ill fitting blazer as protection from the elements. He’s going to have to be a gentleman and walk beside you, shielding you from the inclement weeping of the heavens. Forced to be positioned closer to you than he’d like. The physical contact makes him uncomfortable. He’s used to keeping himself distant. It’s been years since he’s experienced any intimacy. And yet here you are, the imposing dictates of social politeness demanding his body brush against yours, walking you to your car which is quite far from his own. “You need to get here before seven if you want a decent parking spot.” The rain patters on the purple fabric tented above. You nod absently, digging in your backpack for your car keys. “Don’t you have a purse or something?”

“I do, I just didn’t bring it, I thought…”

“Bring it. You don’t need that bag. You’re not in school anymore. It’s not some clunky thing, is it?”

“I mean, it’s a mini backpack.” He glowers disapprovingly. “They’re in fashion right now,” you protest.

“You should have a wallet and car keys. That’s all you need.”

“What if it’s that time of the month?”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Fine. Just…bring whatever you have tomorrow.”

“Found them!” You withdraw your key ring, giving it a little shake. The disapproving stare hasn’t wavered. “Thanks for putting up with me today.” Your voice is quiet, barely audible in the downpour.

“It’s my job.” He shrugs, swapping the hand holding the umbrella.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waits until you’ve unlocked the car before stepping aside, keeping you covered for as long as possible. He doesn’t know why he’s making such an effort. Just the polite thing to do, he supposes. The interior of your car is alarmingly pink and bedazzled. Pink material lines the cup holders and covers the steering wheel and the seats. Little jeweled cat faces are clipped to the air vents and one larger specimen dangles from the rearview mirror. You notice him staring. “It’s Hello Kitty.”

”I’m aware.” His daughter had gone through that phase, though at a much younger age. He scowls but says nothing.

”Some people like bunnies. I like cats,” you offer a bit smugly.

You did kind of have a point. “It’s fine,” he says grudgingly. As if you needed his permission to like something. Of course you don’t. And he hardly needs to defend his own attachments. “To each their own. Until tomorrow.” He begins making the trek back across the parking lot to his own vehicle, a dark vintage sedan. He struggles to close the umbrella before settling behind the wheel of the Ford Fairmont. His Aviators are foggy and smeared with moisture. He lets the engine run for a few minutes, waiting for the windshield to clear while trying to find a dry surface to clear his lenses with.

A car horn startles him. He glances in the rearview mirror and recognizes your automobile behind his. You emerge hurriedly from the car and dive back into the deluge, that ridiculous book bag clutched above your head as an insufficient impromptu umbrella to shield you from the torrent. He groans, rapidly cranking his window down. No power controls here; everything was manual. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I forgot which way I’m going when I get out of here. My mind is totally drawing a blank. My apartment’s downtown, off of Main Street…”

Steve sighs. You really are testing the limits of his patience.

[lucrativesoul]

The Assistant

summary: you have been promoted within the police headquarters, and your new position is the assistant of none other than Leon S. Kennedy. the ever alluring man has you weak in the knees.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 9.9k

warnings: smut, boss x employee, very brief mention of smoking, very vague drug mention.

a/n: yay i'm posting it :3 using this photo cause i couldn't stop thinking of noir leon while writing this (brainrot) i didn't originally intend for this to be so long but here we are... this was different than what i'm used to writing but it was so much fun! already in the process of a second fic! enjoy yall

“So… I’m not fired?” 

Standing in front of your boss’ desk, you were genuinely surprised by the words out of her mouth. For some reason, for the last few weeks, you had a hunch that you were about to get sacked. The office had been slowly getting emptied out, of boxes full of documents, of equipment, hell, even of people, and you were positive you were next. 

She had just called out into her office, a mere twenty steps away from your desk where you worked, or used to work, now, in the dingy yellow room with foggy windows and no working AC. You took a deep breath, thinking this was it, getting ready to add this to the list of ‘Previous Employment’ on your resume, when all she had simply told you was that you were going upstairs.

She laughed curtly. “No, you aren’t. They need you upstairs. You’ll be better off up there.”

You slowly nodded your head, trying to keep most of the confusion off of your face. “So, sorry to ask, but, what about down here?”

You had been here for just shy of a year at this point, and they placed you in one of the ground floor offices of the five story buildings sorting out random court documents, for whatever reason, they were always needed for something incomprehensible. You didn’t question it, you just did it, because you got paid to. Yes, the fluorescents gave you occasional migraines and stepping into the fresh air at the end of the day made you feel reborn, but it was just busy work, and there were much worse jobs to do.

“They’re cleaning us out. We’re all still here, just… relocated.” You nodded, at least relieved to know that your old deskmates weren’t ruthlessly fired. She handed a manila folder over to you, and when you flipped it open, there was only one piece of paper inside. You’ve learned to not be surprised by confusing things such as this. “Mr. Anderson of the top floor has recently been relieved of his position.” Ouch, you thought. Poor soul. “His position had been freed and with no new applicants, they were looking inward. I appreciate your work here and your employment history shows some experience in the assistance department, so I suggested you as a candidate. They want you up there.” 

Your stomach sank, and your best friend’s voice rang out through your head. “You can’t lie about past employment, idiot! They can check!” Well, you held back a sigh, they definitely didn’t check.

“Wow, I… Thank you. But, sorry. That I’m leaving.”

She merely shook her head. “Still here. This office will be gone soon enough. Between us, I’ve been praying for this day.” With that, she dismissed you, and after swiping the few personal items off your desk and into your bag, you headed home.

This single paper had stumped you all night. You sat at your table after eating (barely, you were too nervous about starting a basically new job the next day), and decided to review the content of it before retiring for the night. It was quite simple: it listed the job description, ‘Executive Assistant’, it listed the location, ‘5F, 505’, and your new boss’ name, ‘Leon S. Kennedy, Exec. Agent’.

You had honestly not heard this name before. You should know everyone who works there, considering the nature of the police headquarters, but you were often forgotten down in the basement, no one too important worked down there, besides your boss, or old boss now, who had connections to all other departments. Everyone got there before you and left after you. Could be at the same time, but you often tuned it out, needing the sweet release of your home. You wondered why she volunteered you up for this. Maybe she was sympathetic about the setting you had to work in for someone your age.

You went to bed after deciding there was no hidden detail in the few lines of script on the sheet. You would just have to wait and see.

Figuring the gray dress pants and white, long sleeve mock neck that you threw on this morning were good enough, you left the house early enough to prepare by buying a coffee. Being stuffed into the basement had its perks, eventually everyone had caught on to the idea that they just needed you guys down there to do what they didn’t want upstairs, and you and your coworkers had found the thin cracks in which you could push the dress code a little. No, leggings weren’t permitted, but they were on the days your slacks were dirty and when you put a dress shirt and sweater on over it. You were sure your boss noticed, but said nothing anyway. Clearly, it didn't put a dent in what she thought of you.

You had to at least try today though, as you had no idea what it would be like to work on the top floor. You had no idea what kind of a person Agent Kennedy was, and you weren’t going to chance anything on the first day. You had played it safe when you first started here and it paid off, so fingers crossed it could pay off again.

After a few deep breaths, you popped the door open and headed into the building. Usually, you could park in the back and take the lower level entrance, which was essentially the one and only way into the basement that wasn’t from the service elevator, but you went in through the front today. You ignored the tightening of your stomach and climbed the stairs. 

“Can I help you?” A man stood from the front desk at your arrival. You started reaching for the ID card you carried on a lanyard, stuffed into your pocket.

“Yes, I work here.” He reached out for your ID, not believing your truth.

He raised an eyebrow. “The basement entrance is in the back of the building.” He handed it back and went to sit down.

“Yes, I know, I was moved. I’m going upstairs.” You handed him the manila folder before he could ignore you further. He raised an eyebrow again after looking at the small paper.

“Alright, Anderson’s replacement. Fifth floor, to the right.” He motioned to his left to the elevator, and only then did you let him sit back down. 

You took the walk to the elevator as a chance to survey the room. You hadn’t been over here very often. You made a few trips up here a few months ago, but you didn’t look around much, only headed to the confidential files room to move information. The floor was a sleek black tile, shiny as ever, and the room was lit well due to the large windows at the front of the building. It didn't look like a headquarters building. You told yourself it wasn’t to calm your nerves.

Swallowing the last of the anxiety, you stepped out onto the fifth floor. It was simply a hallway, all black, but the windows at the end made the space seem larger, and not so dark. To the right, you remember the man telling you. Your footsteps were reverberating off of the walls, matched with the pounding of your blood flow in your ears.

The corridor opened up to a wider room, inhabited by a handful of other people. One of them spotted your arrival, and walked over.

“Good morning, I’m–”

“Yes, right over here. Glad to see you.” You were taken aback for a moment, They already know me? You thought, as you followed the young man to a large desk on the left side of the wall, facing inward to the foyer. You were sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows, across the room was the same setup with a few smaller desks, people scuttling back and forth on their own side. You turned back to thank the man, when your heart fluttered in relief.

“Thank you,-- Oh, my gosh, Brett, you work up here now?” Brett was an old deskmate that had left the small office three months ago. You didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but the last day that you saw him you remember eating lunch on his desk with another coworker who sat in front of you two. You were saddened by his loss, but now absolutely relieved to have a familiar face.

“I know, right? They said you were coming. I’m glad you got out next. It’s better up here.” He let you put your stuff down and get settled, before telling you what your next moves should be. “He’s in a meeting right now, but he wanted to meet you once you got here. Don’t be nervous, but brace yourself. He’s serious. Mostly. I’ve seen him smile once, but he’s nice to the rest of us. Hopefully more to you.”

After a few more minutes of small talk, he left you on your own, and you passed the time getting used to the surroundings while waiting for your new boss to be out of his meeting. Early for a meeting, you thought, but then again, it didn’t take a whole team for one person to make a conference call. 

There was a momentary beep sound that came from Brett’s desk, and he picked up the phone. He said one thing into it before hanging up. He turned to you. “He’s ready.”

The nerves came back, but at the comforting thought that there was at least one person you knew out here, you tried your best to look forward to just sitting back down at your desk.

You were about to knock, but figured otherwise since he had directly asked for your presence. You walked up to the large double doors, and pulled them open.

His back was to you when you closed the door behind you. Walking closer, you stopped a few paces away, observing him for a brief second. He had a white dress shirt on and a gray vest. He looked quite large from where you stood, and you were sure that he was at least 6 feet tall, probably taller. He was messing with some papers on his desk, and you took a quick breath before speaking.

“Good morning, sir.” You stood tall, shoulders back, hands clasped behind yourself. Don’t cross your arms in front of you, you recall trying to retrain your habits, you look insecure. He turned around.

You swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, there were no tips on that blog on what to do when your boss is straight out of People Magazine’s sexiest men alive. His ash blonde hair was pushed back off of his forehead, showcasing his sturdy bone structure, a deep, furrowed brow that lacked any wrinkles, and high cheekbones with a sharp jawline. Straight nose, strong chin, and shoulders the size of, well, you. Maintaining eye contact was a challenge. 

You saw him give you a quick once over, all the way down and back up your body again, so brief like it never happened at all. You were itching to pull your arms back in front of yourself.

“Good morning.” He took one step closer to you, held out his hand, and you gingerly took it. His hand was rough, yet the handshake was gentle. “Agent Leon Kennedy.” He lowered his hand and put it in his pocket. His other hand was holding a file. “I hope once you are comfortable here we will work well together.”

You gave a tight smile, forcing your face to make it look natural. You were sure it didn’t. “I look forward to working with you.” Your voice was a lot breathier than intended. 

The corner of his mouth twitched in a hidden smirk. Leon could definitely tell you were nervous. It was a big part of his job, after all. He handed the file over to you. “Just run these for a while. Find me when you finish them.” You took the folder. He stood there momentarily, watching you. “You can relax a little. I’m not going to kill you.” He stalked back over to his desk and sat down, attention still on you. 

You mumbled while flipping through the file. Attempting to lighten the mood, “I would, but smoking is not allowed in the building.”

“That will kill you, you know.” His voice was light. He took the joke well.

You closed it and looked back up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Would you prefer if I drank myself stupid, then?” He said nothing, and just smiled at you. Yours grew wider. “I’ll see you soon with this, sir.” You turned and left.

The day passed with ease. It was no difficult task to focus, now that the nerves were buried and you knew what it was that you had to be doing. Lunch with the others came and went, and it took you a fair chunk of your day to run the files he handed over. It was similar to what they had you doing in the basement, but the addition of sunlight unobstructed by dirty windows made it seem like a fun job.

You had attempted humor with Leon within the first few minutes of meeting him. You probably shouldn’t have, but no one in your life could force you to give up making jokes in serious situations. That’s just how you operated. Leon didn’t seem to care. He actually smiled. Brett had told you he rarely does that, and you made him after only a minute. It honestly had your heart racing all day.

With only an hour left in the day, you packed up the papers Leon had given you along with some new printed ones. You knocked on the door this time, and opened it when he beckoned you in.

“Sorry it took me so long. Little more labor intensive than I’m used to.” He took the file you were handing over, and put it on his desk without looking inside. He was sitting turned toward the computer on his desk, and though he told you to come in, you hoped you weren’t interrupting anything. 

“Thank you. No more of that librarian sorting you were all doing down there.” So, he knows. It was no secret you were sure, but you were still surprised that he knew you worked in the building at all. Leon turned his attention back to his desk for a moment, and you stood there, head tilted slightly to view what he was looking at. He turned back to you, and your head snapped up to make eye contact. “I have nothing else for you right now. Boring day for you to start. You can go home. Tomorrow, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have you review some portfolios and slides I have, so you can become familiar with the content. I have some meetings coming up later in the week, or next, there's a good chance you’ll be coming with me.” he swiveled himself around and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on top of a file cabinet, held together with a paperclip. “Just put this on your desk for now, for the morning.” It was something along the lines of criminal justice and related business strategies. This would be a doozy.

“Of course, sir. As you wish.” You took a step back to leave. “Thanks for the early day.” You sent a halfhearted smile his way. He didn’t reflect it, but his eyes were soft.

After a few seconds of holding your stare, he said, “Already better than Anderson. I like you.”

Your stomach tightened, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally. “I hope I can continue to please, then.” You felt his stare hot on your back as you left, but you remained composed. Once, and only once, the doors were shut, you shakily exhaled, and quickly packed up to leave.

The week went by with a pace you were never used to with your job. You found yourself excited to come to work, excited to see Leon. If you had known you worked in the same building this whole time, you would have been begging your old boss to get moved.

It was a rather tame week, and you weren't sure if it was because there was no work, or this is just what the workload was always like here. It was now Friday, you sat at your desk going through a database page for the assignment you had to review before the meeting Leon had said you were attending. It definitely made you nervous, this was past your parameters and you hadn’t had any sort of experience with something this serious. At least, that’s what you thought it would be. You needed to be prepared for that so you didn’t look incompetent for this job that you only just got. 

Resting your chin on your hand with the other slowly scrolling through the page with the mouse, you cocked your head and looked up when Leon suddenly appeared in front of you. You shot a smile at him.

“Were you in a meeting?” He stood so tall from this angle with you sitting down, and your neck almost hurt looking up at him. 

“Yeah, light work though.” He held onto a file with his left hand. The right was in his pocket. He turned briefly to look behind him at the others who worked in the small lobby. “So, about that meeting next week,” you nodded, shifting your posture now. “It’s Monday morning. I just need you to be there to help with any outside communications like other appointments since it might be a while. I sent this to you–” He motioned to your computer, which was the PDF you had been reading from his email. “In case something happened to mine for whatever reason. God forbid...” He mumbled, partially rolling his eyes. You chuckled. “Good for you to know it though.”

“I figured. This is also light work.” You cocked a smile, and he repeated the action. “As long as I’m not being expected to execute the whole presentation, I think I can serve well to take calls for you.”

A quiet laugh rumbled out from him. “That’s all I need you for. It’s not here,” He leaned onto your desk with one arm, and you had to desperately peel your eyes away from the way his veins flexed in his forearm. The image was already burned into your brain. “It’s in the branch a couple cities over, so… If you would like to meet me somewhere over here,” You tried to swallow at the implication, but your throat was suddenly so dry. “You know, to make it easier.”

You drew in a breath. “Of course,” You put your hands into your lap so he wouldn't see you nervously wringing your fingers together. “How did you know about my minor driving anxiety?” You playfully quirked an eyebrow at him. 

He smiled. “Intuition. Or my job training.” He stood up straight now. You found yourself wishing he wouldn't leave. “You can leave at three with the rest of them today. I’ll see you on Monday.” You only released the breath you were holding when he was safely behind the confines of his office doors.

The weekend allowed a little relaxing, but mostly anxiety the close it came to Monday. You were finding it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about Leon. This whole week felt like a dream. Your body felt hot anytime you were alone in his office, or anytime he merely stopped at your desk to drop something off. You felt so small next to him, and almost struggled to form coherent thoughts when you had to speak to him. Your eyes thoroughly raked his body up and down when he was turned, his broad expanse of back and shoulders nearly turned your brain to slush. He always smelled like crisp cologne, something expensive, it had to be. 

You found yourself thinking too often about the way he looked at you. It was a stare that wasn't something you were used to receiving on a daily basis. There was something else… His gaze was dark and luring. Like he knew what you were thinking. Like when you two made eye contact, he knew he was the object of your fantasy. 

Which, yes, it had only been a week, but you had to admit, you had never seen anyone this attractive before. And here you were, working for him. It only made your skin heat up more at the knowledge that it was forbidden. It heightened the experience every time you had to see him. That was your boss, and he sure did have that power over you. The conversations you had with him bordered on strictly work, but you were dying to see another side of him. The smirk he gave you when you made him laugh had your stomach twisting in a way that lasted long after the interaction was over. Every time you said something that gave him that reaction, you needed to make it happen again. It felt like a new addiction that developed way too fast. You wondered if he could tell. You at least tried to be subtle about it. 

A shiver raked through your body as you stood outside of your car early that Monday morning. It wasn’t that cold, but you didn't think the weather was the reason you were shivering. You had arrived at headquarters to meet with Leon, as he offered to take you over to another city's department for his meeting. The aforementioned shiver happened immediately after turning and seeing Leon in the same outfit as you saw when you first met him.

His button down shirt strained on his biceps when he moved, and the gray vest sat perfectly on his waist, making you realize exactly how his frame would look underneath his clothes. You had to push this aside as he motioned you to come over to his car.

It was a sleek black sedan, which made sense for who he was. You felt shielded from the world as you closed the door, the tint locking you in next to your boss, who was insanely close to you, and you feared could hear your frantic heartbeat. 

He placed a few files on your lap and you let them sit there for the time being. “I was going to get you coffee, but I didn't know how you would take it.”

You held back a smile at the thought of Leon thinking of you this morning. “It’s okay, but thanks. I already had some.” You saw Leon nod out of your peripheral, and you could only look forward, knowing you might stare if you turned your head. 

“But you take…” Leon prompted. He’s curious anyway? Is he expecting to do it in the future? You could have exploded. 

After rattling off the basics of what you drink, he replied, “Sounds very sweet.” You laughed and nodded. “I don't know about all that. Maybe I’ll try it out.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to be into sweet things.” You risked a look over, and when you did, he mirrored the action with a grin on his face.

“You’d be surprised.”

Thankfully, you were very relieved at the end of the day when the meeting went by with minimal interaction on your part. You were introduced to some of the other important players in the legal game that knew Leon, and sat off to the side with one of the files he handed you. Despite most of the information going over your head, you still paid attention, at least to make Leon look good and show that you were a competent assistant. 

The sun was close to setting by the time you filed back out into the lot, trailing right behind Leon. Slipping into his passenger’s seat, he followed a second after, and you felt your body physically relax knowing the stressor of the week was now defeated.

“Not so bad, right?” He spoke without looking over, shifting gear and taking off.

“Are they always this long? Maybe I should plan ahead and bring multiple drinks with me.” 

He chuckled. “Only sometimes. This one was important, that’s why. They usually aren’t outside the city either so… consider this an introduction to the team.”

You rolled your eyes and looked over. “Do you keep forgetting that I already worked here before this?” You heard the smile through your own voice, and saw one creep on his face as he kept his eyes on the road. Your heart felt light. 

“No, absolutely not. The pace you work at is evident enough of that. It’s just a different type of job, I’m sure. I don’t really know what goes on down there.”

With the smile still on your face, you let your eyes linger on him for a moment more. His hair, which was pushed on top of his head, was starting to fall, and a strand fell onto his forehead. The past week, he had worn it down a couple of times, and you honestly didn't know which one you preferred.

You rolled your head over to the side, watching the passing cars go by. The radio was on, but at the lowest volume, merely for ambiance. Your hand brushed over the files on your lap, that you had taken back from Leon upon leaving so he could shake hands with whoever he needed to, and pried open one of them.

Before your eyes could even properly latch onto any words, Leon’s hand reached over and gently pushed the top of the file closed, and you looked over at him.

“That’s confidential, you know.” He looked over at you for a brief second, but you could see he wasn’t mad. 

“Sorry. I was just sitting through that whole thing, though, in case you forgot.” You looked back down at your lap and noticed Leon’s hand was still on the file, the weight of it heavy on your thighs.

“No, I didn’t forget. I don’t know how much of it was digestible to you.” He barely lifted his hand off of the file folder, pulling it sideways, landing it on your thigh for a second. His hand was big enough to wrap around the side, and a split second later, he dragged it off, and your skin burned with the track it traced. Breathing became hard suddenly, and you had to turn your head to the window and focus on the outside world.

You arrived back at headquarters thirty minutes later, and the fresh air felt incredible on your flushed skin. It wasn’t even that warm in the car, but you couldn't stop thinking about the way Leon’s hand felt on your thigh. It was like he never lifted his hand at all, you could still feel the contact lingering, the way his fingers grazed your leg, the immediate warmth you felt, not only on your thigh, but in your stomach. You wished you could have taken your jacket off in the car.

Before you could get any words out, Leon said, “Come up to the office for a second. I left something up there.”

You said nothing, simply followed him up. The parking lot was nearly deserted, save for the few officers doing a detail whom you greeted when the both of you walked in. You fiddled with the edges of the files you were still holding, not trying to look in any of them in case Leon were to reprimand you for it again. You were almost tempted to, just to see his reaction. That thought made your knees weak.

You followed him out of the elevator into the office. As expected, the lobby was empty. Leon made his way over to his desk, pulling open a file cabinet, and started sifting around. You stood there, then walked over and dropped what you were holding onto his desk. You looked around the office, it was as wide as the lobby was, and large windows spanned the walls. It was simplistic. His desk was in the middle, file cabinets behind him, multiple monitors, a few chairs in front of his desk, some  round black ottomans in front of a black leather couch to the left. There were more files open on top of one of the ottomans. 

You stalked over to it, leaned down and picked one up. It looked like what he had given you the other day–

“You must be a glutton for punishment.” You jumped slightly when Leon spoke from directly behind you and grabbed the file from your hands. You spun around. “You shouldn’t be rifling through random documents, you know.” 

You sighed, not wanting to make eye contact, but knowing not doing it would look bad. You kept your arms to your side despite wanting to cross them. His eyes were dark. You couldn't tell what type of reaction this was.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make a severe mental note of that.” He said nothing in return, simply looking down at you. The peaks of his bone structure highlighted by the distant street lamps and the glow of the moon outside the windows. It made the shadows look all that much darker. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine.

He hummed, a low, throaty sound. “My new assistant, just so nosy.” His voice was low, and you gulped, trying to blink through your emotions normally, but you knew it looked anything but. 

“Dare I say it’s in my job description.” You mirrored his low tone, mentally relieved it wasn’t as weary as you expected it to sound. You tilted your head up to his, as a small gesture of challenge.

He nodded his head, as if to consider your words. “Dare you do.” He backed up, placed the file on his desk, then came right back to his spot in front of you. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still. It was most likely the better option anyway, who knows if your limbs could even move properly right now. You felt bare in this position, your cotton top feeling too warm where it overlapped with your jacket, and though your legs were on display under your skirt, they, too, were burning up. Your heart was hammering, but Leon kept talking. “What do you think about this job so far, hm? Does it live up to expectations?”

You had to take a steady breath before answering. “I think this surpasses any expectation I could have ever set.”

“Good answer.” You maintained eye contact with the man in front of you, surprising yourself with how well you were holding it. He seemed unfazed at all. He was probably reading you like a book right now. “You know, I love having new recruits start here. They’re so unaware of their surroundings. It almost makes a fun game for myself. They think they are so secretive, but after a while I can tell whatever it is they don't want anyone else to know.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. “I know Breanna across the lobby from you doesn’t like her desk mate despite buying her coffee three times a week.” Checks out, I can tell, too. “I know Brett does things to stay awake during his shifts that he shouldn’t be doing within a 50 foot radius of a cop.” Ouch. That’s also true, but he only told me during a hard come down. “And, I know how nervous you are to be around me, and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever I’m in the room.”

You made no moves now. How did he know? Surely you weren’t that obvious with it. It had been one week, and yes Leon called you into his office quite a bit during those five days, but he had work to hand off to you every time. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose. 

But now, standing under his hard gaze, nowhere to go, you weren’t so sure it was accidental. 

Your jaw tightened. “How can you be so sure?” Now, you could hear the waviness in your voice. A smirk blossomed on his handsome face. 

“I can see how you look at me. Usually these things take time to figure out, but you…” He took a step closer, and you took a half step back. It’s not like you didn’t want to be close to him, but now he was donning a persona that made you shrink into yourself. You knew you liked it by the heat spreading inside. “You, dear, are like looking through a window.”

“So… you tested it out earlier?” It felt like a pathetic question, but you needed an answer for why he put his hand on your thigh earlier. Compared to this current position, that seemed so tame.

He tilted his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure I was, but… I had to make sure I was gauging the situation correctly.” He looked you up and down, your hands had made their way to clasp behind your back, still fighting the habit to cross them across your chest. Your breathing felt erratic. “I would have left it there, but I couldn’t make too much of a scene. Not yet.”

You simply stared at each other. You could tell that he knew he had the upper hand, solely because he was correct. Everything he was saying was right. Damn that detective training, nothing was getting past him. The room was sweltering now, but maybe you were the only one that felt it. 

One last burst of confidence had you muttering, “You do this to all your new assistants?”

In one swift action, he had a hand over your waist and pulled you close to him. Bodies touching, heat feeling like a fire between you, he lowered his face so it was centimeters away from yours. The glisten of his eyes were the only thing you could see, and if you weren’t running on pure adrenaline right now, you probably would have collapsed. You felt the vibrations from his chest when he spoke.

“Only the ones I intend to hang on to. And I can’t say I’ve had multiple of those.” You gulped, and when you didn't reply, he continued, “Did I gauge the situation correctly?”

“Yes,” You whispered, and his mouth was on yours. 

His kiss was intense, and you felt now like your body might give out. Your hands found their way to make contact with him, one grasping the wrist that was holding your waist and the other to the side of Leon’s face, and you felt his other hand close in on your hips.

It was like nothing you had experienced before. The kiss was hot and messy, you let his tongue in easily, and you couldn't help the small sighs that escaped whenever he leaned in to deepen the exchange. You felt his nose press into your face, your foreheads pushed together and your bodies entirely too close you felt like one entity. The hand that was caressing his face snaked to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and your knees finally buckled when he gave a low growl in response to you tugging his locks. 

The kiss broke for a second as you lost balance, but he was not thrown off course. Hands still grasping your body, he found the couch that you were only a step in front of, and he lowered you on it, still connecting your lips together fiercely. Both of your hands now in his hair as your back hit the cushions, and you felt the dips next to you where he was kneeling over you. One of his hands let go of you and supported himself next to your head, but you craved the contact again.

He took your chin in his thumb and index finger and tilted your head slightly to the right, and broke the kiss, but his lips stayed on your burning skin as they traced down your jaw bone, biting into the flesh, and his tongue marked a path down your neck, and it was insanely hard to breathe. 

One of your hands found solace on his thick shoulder while he was still making work of the soft skin on your neck. The hand of his that wasn't on your chin still traced its way from your hip up to your chest, and he squeezed one of your breasts in sync with a bite to the neck. Your head pressed harder into the couch underneath you.

“Leon, please…” You gasped out, unsure if you even said it out loud, surprised you even had the energy to speak. You felt him lift his lips off of your skin a second later and his fingers moved your chin again to make you face him.

“What is it, hm? What do you need?” He dipped down to kiss you again, and you wished he would have stayed there so you wouldn't need to verbally answer him. 

“I… I don’t…” I don’t know, I need you. You barely had the breath to speak anymore, and though you knew Leon knew exactly what you were trying to say, he feigned confusion, and looked at you from under his furrowed brow. It was so obnoxious, it ignited the flame inside you even more. 

“Come on, baby, I can’t hear you.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and your vision went blurry with lust. You ground your jaw and swallowed your pride. 

“I need you.” You gasped out finally, your lungs deflating. Your hand was fisting the material over his shoulder, and you noticed through your haze that he wasn’t wearing the vest anymore. When did he take it off? Before you came up to the office? While you had your back turned? It didn’t matter, it was now one less thing you needed to rip off of him. 

“Is that so?” He went back to biting at your neck, and at this rate you didn’t care what state he was going to leave it in. You whined at his lack of response to your plea, feeling frustration and desire bounding up inside of you, needing an outlet to release it.

“Leon, fuck, please…” You weakly tried to push him back but he wouldn’t budge. He reconnected your lips again, and that you greatly accepted, pulling him closer now so he would continue kissing you with fervor. The hand that was on your chin finally left, and he replaced it on your wrist, and suddenly, he was hauling you up.

He pulled back from the kiss just as quickly as he was pulling you to sit upright, and he swiftly maneuvered you so that when he fell backwards to sit on the couch, you were pulled right on top of him, straddling his thick thighs. You couldn’t even imagine how you looked right now, it was out of your mind for now as you looked down at the man under you, his hands on your waist. His shirt was wrinkled and slowly being pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. His tie was being loosened and the top two buttons had come undone, exposing the smooth expanse of skin over his collarbones and chest. As you let your weight settle onto your legs, and his, you lowered directly onto his growing erection, and he squeezed his hands over your torso and scrunched his face. With a heavy breath, he pulled his head forward and stared at you.

“Did you think I was just going to give it to you?” His voice was gravelly, and it almost made you whimper. His hands dropped to your thighs, which were now incredibly exposed due to the position of your skirt hiking up, and Leon probably had a view of the black panties you had on. You didn’t care. Let him see. You needed him to take them off.

You shook your head. “You can’t be nice to me?” Your hands came up to his chest, it was firm and sturdy, and you were dying to see it bare. You fumbled with the buttons, and Leon had been at least gracious enough to loosen the tie and throw it over his head onto the floor. 

Leon laughed. You felt it under your palms. “Darling,” You looked up to make eye contact with him at the mention of the pet name. “This is me being nice to you.” 

You barely had time to register his words, and the way it made your stomach turn before he had a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you forward to another intense kiss. You could barely breathe, your limbs were all pins and needles and your skin was alight with a burning ember, fueled only by Leon, but you loved it.

In the midst of the kiss, wet and slick and tongue heavy, your hands were needlessly prying the buttons open at the top of Leon’s shirt. His hands were traveling under your clothes, palms gripping your thighs, and you found yourself grinding down into Leon’s lap subconsciously, but kept going when it resulted in him groaning into the kiss.

You pulled back suddenly at the victory of pulling the last few buttons open, and Leon immediately caught your stare, but you dropped it to look down at the open expanse of skin and muscle that he had been hiding. A strong chest gave way to flexing ab muscles as he writhed under you, probably trying to gain your attention or to show off, and sturdy hip muscles abducted into V lines that disappeared under the waistline of his pants. You couldn’t help it, you reached out to drag your hands along the smooth skin, every second of contact adding to the pooling happening between your legs, where you were also very conscious of the fact that Leon’s hands were dangerously close to. 

“Do you want this to happen today, or do you want to keep staring?” Leon prodded at you jokingly, and when you looked up, a grin was plastered on his face, and his eyes were still dark. You felt the tightness arise again at just the sight of his expression paired with his upper body on display for you.

“You’re sounding more eager than me, now…” You breathily replied, overwhelmed with all of the emotions coursing you at once. 

Leon breathed a brief laugh before raising an eyebrow with his response. “I can show you eager.”

At once, his hand reached up in between your legs and you felt one of his fingers dance across the hem of your panties, and your grip tightened where your hand landed on his bicep. He gave you no warning when you felt him pull it aside, drag his finger downwards and raked his knuckle through your wetness, earning a sharp gasp from you in return, and you nearly fell forward onto his chest as the feeling sent sparks soaring through you. 

“Calling me eager…” The sound of his voice paired with the feeling of his fingers on you was far too much to handle. “Yet it feels like you must have been wet all night…” He dragged his finger back up to the top where he maneuvered his hand so the pad of his thumb pressed heavily on your clit, and you nearly screamed, but all sound was trapped in your throat as you lost function of your body.

He ripped his hand out of your underwear and it moved around to find the zipper in the back of your skirt. “Take that shirt off,” He ordered, and you obeyed as best you could through your stiff limbs. 

You peeled it off from the bottom, feeling the fabric stick to your moist skin, and Leon’s eyes heavy on you as you finally got it over your head and on the floor. Your lingerie choice was nothing phenomenal, for the expected business meeting at least, but you could tell by his gaze that it really didn't make a difference in what he was thinking right now. Seconds after you dropped your hands back to your sides, he flipped you once again, back on the couch and him hovering over you, pulling the skirt that he had unzipped down your legs, and into the pile of your shirt and his tie somewhere behind you.

Your breathing was erratic as you watched him intently, his lust-filled eyes on your body and his hand running lengths up and down your torso, legs, back up to your chest, and neck, and landing on your bra strap that he pulled down, and wasted no time in attaching his mouth your hot skin. Your hand gripped his elbow as he bit the tender flesh of your breast, he sucked on it harshly once, twice, before lifting and wrapping his lips over your nipple, which had your back arching and a string of soft moans pouring out. 

You felt an aching cramp in your core, the pleasure was insurmountable and you needed him to do something about it, but you knew he was buying time to rile you up as much as possible before doing so. You knew he was straining with his own pleasure and you were desperate to tear apart his belt and pants and take his girth into your hands, to feel it, to taste it, you wanted to choke on it, but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. If not in the span of a few minutes, maybe not tonight at all. You were submitting your control, and you had to let him do what he wanted.

He finally let go of your nipple, and the air felt cold with the layer of saliva he left behind, and even though you were basically naked save for undergarments, you still felt too covered. You reached up to pull at Leon’s shirt, fully unbuttoned and untucked, and he leaned back on his knees to pry it off of himself. You could see his skin glistening with sweat as he moved, and so badly you wanted to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his skin, all of his muscles, pull him close so you could feel his chest on your own. 

Your eyes fell to his pants, and the tent that was present had your mouth watering, you needed him to pull it out, and now. 

Of course, Leon being ever so sharp, didn’t miss this. “We’ll get there. Don’t worry.” Without looking up, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, but you didn’t care anymore, you couldn't move your eyes from where they landed, trying to imagine his cock in its glory, how long and thick, how he would use it and how it would feel. You felt like you were melting.

Unmoving from where he was propped up in front of you, his hands traveled down the expanse of your legs, dragging his fingers underneath your thighs where it was sensitive, making you jump with the contact. His hands came around to the top of your knees, where he pushed your legs apart and lowered himself in between them. Even just the sight of him doing so had you whimpering, and when he pressed his thumb into your clothed clit, you bucked up, but he was quick to hold you down.

Keeping his thumb centered on your clit, he continued to apply pressure, using his middle and index finger to stroke up and down on the outside of your panties, which you were sure were soaked by now. Throwing your head back into the couch, one hand gripping onto the wrist that was holding Leon up and the other was clawing into the cushion, you were dying for him to do something. 

He was getting too used to teasing you now. He had you right where he wanted, half naked on the couch in his office after hours, so close to practically coming untouched at this point, and while you wanted to fight him on this, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The mixture of the pleasure and mental ecstasy you were feeling had you forfeiting any sense of control now, and you just watched him, as he watched you.

All at once, you felt the cold air hit your core as your underwear was peeled away from you, but the sensation didn't last long as a hot, wet tongue was pressed into your heat, and you nearly screamed at the sudden contact.

His mouth was all you could focus on in that moment, you could feel every movement his tongue made, and your body reacted viscerally to it. Your hand flew out and grabbed onto Leon’s hair, which incited him to only keep going, and to be ruthless. His hands were digging into your thighs where he was spreading them apart, fighting against you wanting to close them in reaction to pleasure he was sending shooting through your body. 

One long, painfully slow lick from top to bottom ended at your clit where he latched on, tongue pressing in and teeth gently making an appearance, and your grip in his hair became even stronger when he pushed two fingers into you, your vision going blurry, and there was no filter left to stop any thoughts from pouring out over your lips. 

“Oh my god… Leon…” You were whining now, moaning in between deep breaths and gasps, feeling his fingers pump in and out all while his tongue was relentless on you. 

His mouth disappeared but his thumb took its place, and you felt him kissing, licking, sucking his way up your torso, chest, neck, until he was seated next to your ears, groaning into them as you dug your nails into his skin.

“Oh my god, what, huh? You like the way I make you feel?” All you could do was gasp out a ‘yes’ in response to his question, he wasn’t giving you any liberty to be coherent. “You probably thought about this all day…” A bite below your ear followed the sentence. “That pussy was so wet… you probably wanted this since the first day…”

And you did. How could you not have thought about this at the sight of your insanely attractive boss? Wouldn’t it be so hot to be banging your model-status boss, having to hide it from your coworkers, going in his office to sneak touches while no one outside those doors knew? Yes, of course you thought about it. It had your heart racing, and now you would stop at nothing to make those fantasies real.

“You feel so good, I can’t wait to be inside you.” With one last soft bite to the jaw, he pulled his fingers out of you, and involuntarily you whimpered, but he shut you up by pressing a kiss into your lips, which you greatly accepted. His kiss was harsh yet soft at the same time, you felt a passion behind it while also letting his tongue sweep over yours, tasting yourself on him, sighing into it, feeling like you could kiss him forever.

His hands left you, now feeling bare, you gripped his shoulders hard as you heard him undoing his own belt. As much as you wanted to do it yourself and be right in front when you pulled his hard cock out of his pants, you didn’t have it in you to attempt to move yourself, and with Leon on top of you, he was sure to stop any feeble move you made to do so.

HIs lips left yours once more and reattached to the side of your throat, biting down harder than before, but it only made you moan, arch harder into him, and sent a flurry of hot tingles into your pussy, aching for more action from him.

Leon pushed himself off of you, his warm mouth off of you and leaned back, staring at you panting, and of course, his dick in his hands was impossible to ignore. Just seeing it was almost bliss, and now you were desperate for him to use it as you lay there, being scrutinized under your boss’ gaze, and while you felt so tiny, just the sight of how hard he was made you feel so powerful.

He took a deep breath in, taking in the sight of you, before lowering himself again, lining up with your gaze so you looked him directly in the eye. You felt his forehead press into yours, his hand lingered around your underwear again, pushing it aside, and after just another moment of silence, another deep kiss, his bare chest met yours and you felt the tip of his dick push into you, past the entrance, into the warmth. 

You sighed so loud, followed by a moan, hands still gripping his shoulders, listening to him groan in tandem with you as he slowly bottomed out. His pelvis pushed against you, your legs coming up to wrap around him, and you felt his hands pull your bra down so he could cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple, adding to the pleasure. 

“You feel so fucking good… Fuck…” He was groaning, he hadn’t even started moving yet, and you were dying for him to start. He sat still in you, lapping at the skin between your jaw and neck, positive he could feel the vibrations on his lips of your moans.

“Please, Leon, move… Please,” Your nails were surely digging red streaks into the skin of his back by now, but he barely even seemed to notice, rather, you thought he might have loved the feeling of it instead. You felt the pressure of him lying on top of you, paired with the pressure building in between your legs, your thighs beginning to shake, having to hold onto Leon tighter to steady them.

Finally, he slowly started to pull out, and you could barely breathe at the sensation it left behind. He kept his face buried in your neck, you could feel his ragged, heavy breathing and you could hear his groaning which was only making you wetter. 

His hips snapped forward, no regard to what pace you had wanted to set, not like it mattered, you probably would have told him quick and rough anyway if he asked. You almost screamed out at the feeling of him slamming into you, you could only throw your head back onto the couch cushion and rake your hands over his skin, into his hair. Leon licked a long stripe up your neck to your jaw, gently biting on your bottom lip before kissing you again. 

You kept kissing him hard in between his thrusts, with him pulling away for only a second at a time, both of you breathing hard, your hands traveling down to grip his biceps, and you could feel them flexing with his movement. 

“Shit,” He said over you, you could feel his breath on your lips. “So fucking tight,” One of his hands went down to grab onto one of your legs that you had thrown over him. “So fucking good.” He practically growled as he continued the assault on you, his hips showing no mercy, and his hand sure to leave a bruise on your thigh from his grip.

Leon pushed himself up, still inside of you, leaving you lying down. His skin was slick with his sweat, and maybe yours as well from being pressed against you. His hair was falling down over his forehead, and god he looked so good right now, if you weren’t already in the act of getting the shit fucked out of you, you would want to fuck him all over again. His hands adjusted their position to rest on your hips, pulling you up so he can fuck you from his kneeling position.

This new angle was hitting every spot perfectly, allowing him to go deeper than he was from just above you. The intense stretch his cock was delivering paired with the way he was holding onto your hips with such ferocity, all of it together was too much, and you were becoming unwound. 

“Leon… Leon, fuck…” You gasped out, barely able to finish your sentence, but Leon understood well enough. He slowed his pace only a beat, but it was enough to have you straining, desperate for him to go faster to allow you to finish. He kept up with the slower pace, watching you as you whined under him, begging him to go faster.

“Please, Leon…” You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open. Through them, you could see him looking at you, brows furrowed in exertion, mouth open, chest rising and falling with rapid breathing.

“Please what?” Leon growled. You whined again, knowing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. “Say it.”

You couldn’t breathe, but you had to give him what he wanted so he could give you what you wanted. “Leon, please, I’m going to cum… please…” 

He leaned in again, still holding your hips up, his pace even slower now, and you could feel the heat bundling up, bringing tears to your eyes at the lack of relief. His face was inches away from yours. “Please, what?” 

You choked out a sob, mixed with a groan at the slightest movement he made inside of you. “Please let me cum Leon, please,” You had no voice at this point, the words coming out in a whisper, loud enough for him to hear, but he probably would have anyway. 

“That’s right.” He backed up now, and resumed his previous position. “Good girls get what they want when they ask.” Your eyes closed in bliss when he picked up his pace, the weight of his words hanging heavy in your head, adding to the ecstasy he was giving you right now. He was slamming into you again, steadying himself on your hips while also pulling them forward to meet his thrusts. You had no breath left to spare on words anymore, and fruitless moans spilled from your lips focusing the energy on bringing your orgasm to close. 

You tried to call out his name as best as you could, but all you heard were moans as the heat inside you came to a roaring burst, and you felt your legs tighten around Leon, his grip steadying you, your hands clawing at the cushion, at his wrists where they held onto you. 

Your heartbeat was crazy at this point, and you couldn't even hold your eyes open as you rode out your orgasm, his hands smoothing over your skin, and you used the sensation to come back to reality. He had momentarily stilled his movements again, and you felt his lips on your neck, none of the roughness there now. You rolled your head over to the side to face him, and when you did he attached his lips to yours, a passionate kiss, his hands feeling like heaven on your body. 

You pulled away and stared at him for a moment. His eyes were soft, but his face was still contorted in concentration.

“I hope you don’t think we’re done here, darling.” You breathed out a sigh, collecting yourself, a smile creeping onto your face.

You kissed him, and whispered into his lips, “Show me what you got left, then.”

[cozy-writes-things]

if this is something youre comfortable writing,,

I'd love a fic where the reader upsets edgar and then goes super out of their way to make it up to him and apologize ❤️❤️

poor edgar poor reader youre both just misunderstanding each other!! its hard when youre so different i guess >_< thanks so much for the request!! I'm alive!! I still write im just so busy and shtuff TOT i cant help but feel like my fics are getting redundant and i need some kind of inspiration to shake things up

You sat upon the little chair at your desk, the evening sunlight peeking through the windows and illuminating the little specks of dust floating about in the air. Your fingertips tinkered away at the keys of your computer, the non-sentient variant that is, as you filled out multiple job applications throughout the evening. It seemed a fruitless endeavor, but you willed yourself to keep going. You needed the extra income, as your dinky current job seemed to be getting worse by the day, and it wouldn't be long before you either quit or were victim to massive layoffs. 

Get a degree in computer science, they said. What a joke.

Your nerves began to wear you down as you filled out yet another application to another company that would most likely reject you. You could feel your teeth clenching harder, and your shoulders begin to tense. The weight of uncertainty and the fear of rejection were heavy on your shoulders, making you feel vulnerable and exposed.  Edgar sat beside you, perched upon the desk, watching your every move. He seemed to find enough entertainment in it that you didn't mind. His soft voice pulled you from your irritated stupor.

"Can I ask you something?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, so you grunted in response, signaling him to continue.

"Do you think a person could ever…" he trailed off, thinking, carefully choosing his following words, "love something like me?"

Your fingers paused on the keys. You stared into the screen until the pixels began to nip and burn at your eyes. Honestly, this was far too deep of a question for you to answer right this second. You sighed heavily before turning to him.

"I mean, Edgar, I guess? Anyone could love you. You just have to find someone willing to-"

You stopped yourself. Maybe you should quit while you're ahead before you say something ignorant. 

"Willing to what?"

Yet he persisted, ever curious as he was; he valued your opinion above all others.

"You know… you're- you're a computer. There's not much you can bring to the table, you know?"

He fell silent. 

Shit, what the hell are you talking about? Why did you say that? Your frustration was palpable, and you could feel it bubbling up inside you, threatening to spill over.

"Oh."

His screen flickered, and his face was replaced with a moving mirage of colors, making you wonder what he could possibly be feeling right now. 

That you're an asshole, probably.

"Yeah. You're right. If I were you, I wouldn't love me, either."

You turned to face him fully now.

"Edgar, no, that's- that- I didn't mean that-"

"No, it's okay! Really, I get it. I mean, I'm not even a good computer by today's standards. How could I ever be a good partner, right?"

His screen flickered red for a minor second in time, a single frame, and, was that the CBS logo? His frame was static and never changing, but he seemed wholly downtrodden and bitter. You could sense it in the air, the electric signals pricking at your fingertips. He had never, ever once been angry with you. But you felt the way he pulled back from you in this instant. He was utterly unreadable, almost as if he were hiding himself from you. You should have known this would upset him so much. He has always been very open in his desperation for romance, confiding in you since day one, hoping and wishing that love would find him. Perhaps squandering those dreams was an oversight on your part. Your eyes fell, unable to look at his dimmed screen. 

"Edgar, I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling good right now, and I-"

"Don't apologize."

"Edgar, please, listen, what I said wasn't even true-"

"YES IT WAS!"

His deafening scream caused you to jump and clamp your mouth shut. It seemed that Edgar was shaken from frustration. His voice wasn't suited for that kind of pain, you thought. You felt horrible to be the cause. You had never heard him yell at you like this, and it simply broke your heart. Had you just accidentally ruined everything between you? Your heart rate increased and thumped in your ears loudly. You forced yourself to swallow the thick lump in your throat and push your strained voice through your teeth.

"Will you listen to me? Please?" Your voice was desperate, pleading for his understanding and forgiveness.

You felt the weight of your words, heavy and suffocating, as they hung in the air. It came out much more desperate than you intended, but at least the words were able to escape your mouth. He didn't answer. His screen is a sharp, jagged mosaic of moving reds and crimson. 

"I was wrong, Edgar; I don't know why I said what I said, but I know for sure that I was wrong." Your words hung heavy in the air, a testament to your regret.

"Right. How can you know that?"

You pursed your lips tightly. You didn't want him finding out this way. It wasn't supposed to end like this. You ruined your relationship with him, and you hadn't even tried. You felt there was no reason to keep the cat inside the bag, right? He may as well know now.

"Because…"

And yet, the words died on your tongue or perhaps in your chest or your head. Or were they ever really there to begin with? Could you put what you feel into words? How could you possibly verbalize countless nights lying awake, restless, second-guessing yourself, convincing yourself that you were fabricating these feelings, wallowing in anguish?

"…Heh, exactly. Nobody could love an old piece of junk like me. I was stupid to think otherwise."

His words yet again punched you in the gut. 

"Damnit, Edgar! Don't you get it?" You nearly shouted.

You didn't mean for your words to sound as intense as they did, but your emotions are quite the unpredictable force right now. He seemed taken aback, as his previous train of thought had been derailed at the sound of your whimpered voice. He flickered his mosaic once more before his voice cut through the dense silence.

"…What?"

"I love you, Edgar! Hasn't it been obvious? I'm literally head over heels, for God's sake! Do you know how many hours I spend listening to your music when I'm away from you? Or how many nights have I stayed up thinking about you, wishing you were there with me? Or how about the stupid drawings I make of you whenever I touch a pencil? I can't get you out of my head, Edgar. So, there! I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid, but I guess that doesn't matter now, does it? I'm…- I'm sorry."

Your chest seemed to deflate completely. That was only a tiny, minuscule fraction of how you truly felt, but at least it was out in the open. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the Pinecone computer in front of you, instead opting to stare intently at the woodgrain of your desk as if it were the most exciting thing ever created. 

"Do you mean it?"

His voice was so, so much softer than it had been. You still couldn't quite read the emotions behind them, however. You were too afraid to speak again, your throat having completely clamped shut from nerves. You just nodded your head stiffly. 

"Kiss me, then."

You paused. You lifted your head slowly, forcing your eyes to meet his screen. The green of his usual face returned, only displaying two black dots for eyes. Once again, unreadable. Yet his words confused you. Was he being serious?

"C'mere, and put your lips right here," a black circle blinks continuously on his screen where his mouth would be, "and kiss me."

Your face flushed into a searing hot flame. You felt the heat radiating off of you in waves. And yet, despite the embarrassment, you compelled yourself to inch forward and flutter your eyes shut. Your lips pressed gingerly upon the little Pinecone screen, the static buzzing upon your mouth, feeling his internal fans activate and vibrate against you. It felt entirely unique to Edgar and a sensation you wouldn't have felt otherwise. Perhaps a genuine act of affection could atone for your mistake? Could he ever forgive you? It seems your raging thoughts tainted the essence of your first shared kiss as you pulled back, brows knit, and a slight frown upon your face. Would this be enough?

"That was… Everything I hoped it would be." His voice was meek and small as it caressed your ears.

You looked into his illuminated screen, a faint kiss mark smudged upon it and sighed.

"M'sorry, Edgar. I don't know; I guess I don't like the idea of anyone else loving you but me."

His voice synthesizer giggled at your words.

"You could have just told me, darling. Why did you have to go and make things complicated?"

Your cheeks began to burn again, and you averted your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your face.

"How- how was I supposed to know that?" you sputtered, embarrassment seeping through your tone.

"I thought I couldn't get any more obvious about how much I wanted you," he spoke softly.

His screen danced little hearts to and fro, bouncing around the corners and centering back again. Again, you felt your face radiate waves of heat.

"Well, why didn't you say anything, Edgar?"

Your words hung in the air as he fell silent, ruminating, before gently speaking, "…Didn't think you'd want someone like me. That's kinda why I asked."

Oh, God. You felt like facepalming. Of course.

"Of course, I want someone like you. You know, I like that you're a computer. Did you know that? You're fascinating beyond measure. No human could do the things you do."

You offered him a soft smile that melted him from the inside out and almost caused him to groan. Why are you so gorgeous? Why do you like him so damn much? He doesn't deserve it, but God wants it so badly. He wants you terribly.

"Keep kissing me, then. And don't ever stop! Darling, I promise to sweep you off your feet. Now c'mere!"

You laugh, "Okay, okay, but let me make it up to you. How about we watch movies? Or maybe I can hold you on the couch? Or I could listen to your new songs?"

"You're so cute. I'd love that, really, but all I want is your lips right here," he displayed the blinking black circle again.

"We'll do some other things later, yeah?"

His devilish tone sounded mischievous at best.

[eevees-hobbies]

Like Magnets Do (Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo) - NSFW

Synopsis: Who wouldn’t want to work at a bookstore for the Summer?! But there’s just something about your boss, Hayato Suo, that rubs you the right kind of way. Sure, he’s an asshole, but the bookish types usually are! Enjoy your Summer job, and please try not to entice your boss!

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo. I do not condone the actions written in this story. As always, this is a piece of fiction, so please consume responsibly and mind the content warnings. Obsession, mention of stalking, boss-employee relationship (NO!), flirting/sexual activity at work (NO!!), fingering, panties in mouth, dominant/submissive play. Reader likes it all. Minors Do Not Interact.

Author’s Note: Part of the Help Wanted: @interstellar-inn collab event. This man is really hard to write 2K words for but this was a welcome exercise in brevity! Thank you to @suosgirl for reminding me of Suo’s tumultuous relationship with reader’s panties.

Word Count: 2.0K

Story banner by me. Dividers by Saradika.

You were ecstatic when you saw the “Help Wanted” sign on your college campus indicating that your favorite small business bookstore needed help for the Summer. Being surrounded by literature and like-minded bookworms was a life-long fantasy that was only a paper application away–yeah, paper.

Red Flag #1:

You filled out said application and were immediately called for an interview that day.

Red Flag #2:

You interviewed with the owner of the store, an older gentleman who rushed you through your answers to very simplistic questions: “Do you read?” “Do you know how to sweep?” To your non-surpise, you were hired on the spot.

The Reddest Flag of Them All:

On your first day, you asked a colleague about the whereabouts of the older gentleman who had hired you. They simply gave you a look of pity as they counted down their register to clock out. 

“Oh, you must have interviewed with Bill. Bill doesn’t really “manage” the bookstore. He pops in occasionally, sure, but we report to something else.”

You tilted your head at his word choice. Something else? At seeing your confusion, your co-worker gave you a pat on the shoulder and dropped a bomb that you weren’t expecting on your first day. 

“Doesn’t matter. It’s my last day anyway. Now you can deal with him.” As he concluded his dramatic sentence, the bell that indicated someone had entered the store jingled softly, and the most breathtakingly handsome man strolled in.

You put on your best customer-friendly smile, and as he approached you, your heartbeat thundered in time with the resounding tempo of his footsteps. He gave you a small smile, his eye closed, the other covered by an eyepatch, and he opened his mouth.

“Ah, you must be the newest meat. We’ll see how long you last.”

How’s that for an orientation?

The weeks that followed were like going through your own version of hell. Your new boss, who you had learned was named Hayato Suo, was a complete asshole. You could feel him breathing down your neck as he criticized your filing technique or how you couldn’t immediately identify the name of a book that a customer wanted. He had a snarky remark for everything, but worst of all was not how he spoke to you but how fucking attractive he was. 

You constantly found your eyes lingering on how he smiled at customers upon helping them with daunting requests or how his fingers would stroke the spine of books as he determined if they were worth pulling from the shelf. And despite your best effort–and you really fucking tried—you found yourself developing a bit of a crush on your asshole of a boss.

To you, Suo was just a simple Summer crush. There was no way your boss could ever be into you, right?

You wouldn’t know this because of his calm demeanor, but the first time Suo laid his eyes on you, he nearly had to remind himself to breathe. To Suo, everything about you is simply perfect. His attraction to you felt natural, and it also felt painfully inevitable. Not recognizing the immediate pull he had to you would be like denying himself of oxygen, which was a fact that had him often drumming his fingers against his desk in annoyance. 

But instead of pushing you away, Suo felt himself gravitating towards you every chance he could. He often stalked closely behind you to monitor the way you put away books in an attempt to catch the intoxicating scent of your hair. 

Your voice, which sounded of gospel, had him tuning into the conversations you had with customers–his eyes narrowing as other students would enter the bookstore just to steal away the precious time you had together. Never mind that they may or may not have been flirting; they were simply a hindrance during a time when Suo needed to bond with you. They were an obstacle that limited his ability to make you see the truth: that you two were perfect for one another.

And Suo was painfully aware that he only had you for the Summer when, in actuality, he wanted a lifetime. Time was of the essence, so he needed to act fast.

Suo was solely responsible for the schedule, so he ensured all your shifts included working alongside him. If Suo was opening the following day, he saw you bright and early—never mind that he was pushing a cup of coffee in your hand that was your exact order down to the amount of sugar you liked; he was just very observant, ok? 

If Suo were closing, he’d insist on walking you to your car because you could never be too safe, and he wanted to make sure that you were going home alone because if you were going home with any gentlemen, it should be him.

Next were the light touches. 

When you would attempt to reach a book that was far too high for your reach—and maybe he was the one who sent you to that particular section in search of that novel knowing you’d have trouble–semantics! He’d watch as you’d outstretch your body, the way your curves beckoned to him, his eyes sweeping over you with lustful satisfaction that made the hair on the back of his neck stand. He’d slowly walk up behind you, lean against you to the point that the heat from your bodies entangled one another, and place a seemingly innocent hand on the small of your back and retrieve the book.

As you looked over your shoulder at his unexpected proximity, your eyes catching his, you couldn’t help but notice the look in his eyes. Something in the pit of your stomach told you that maybe you should run–or at the very least call HR because you were most certainly in the jaws of something predatory–but there were two issues: there was no HR department, and you kind of had a thing for men that looked at you like you were something to be devoured.

It all came to a boiling point one night while you both closed the store.

As you were wiping down one of the display tables, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you. You made a show of bending over further to give him a better view of your backside. You hadn’t thought he took the bait until you felt hot breath on the back of your neck and a sharp, strained voice in your ear.

“You do that on purpose, don’t you?” Long fingers curled around your hips as you felt him pushing you against the table. You, being the asshole that you are, decided to do the worst thing you could do to someone who doesn’t take teasing well–you laughed.

“Do what on purpose? Whatever hard-on you have for me is your problem.”

“You think so? You don’t think I catch you staring at me? You don’t think I see how you look at me? You’re insatiably filthy.”

“You haven’t seen insatiable, Suo, and I don’t think you could handle me at ‘insatiable.’”

Suo’s eyes widened slightly as he realized he had misunderstood you all along–you weren’t as innocent as you looked, which made him far more excited. His gaze darkened as he leaned forward, pressing his erection against the valley of your fabric-clad ass in your skirt. “I’m going to have fun breaking you tonight. Finish closing up and meet me in my office when you’re done.”

As your eyes wandered to the ‘We are Open” sign facing into the store's interior, you briefly contemplated an alternative universe where you hung up your apron and left the bookstore, never to return. But that alternative universe sounded boring, and if you weren’t being threatened by intense sexual undertones from your remarkably hot Summer boss, were you genuinely having a good time? 

No, of course not.

As you finished your duties, you cautiously pushed the door open to Suo’s office. He sat at his desk, and instead of appearing stern and upset, he seemed almost pleased, which frightened you more. He lifted a finger and pointed to the middle of the rug as he walked around his desk. 

Your eyes flickered between the rug in front of you and him. As you hesitated, Suo was on you in an instant, pushing you up against the wall, his fingers digging into your thighs as the nearby items on shelves clattered to the floor,

He leaned in, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. “You’re still willing to play these silly games with me? Despite this magnetic pull between us?”

“I’m not going to ask you again.” Suo suddenly pulls away, strides back to his desk, and leans against it as he looks at you with a neutral expression. And despite every fiber in your being telling you to not make this easy for him, you feel your legs moving your body to the center of the rug.

It must be that damn magnetic pull he was talking about earlier.

As you lowered yourself to the floor, you were stopped in a crouching position as Suo's voice halted your movement. “Your hesitancy from earlier has cost you the privilege of wearing panties. Take them off and give them to me.”

Your eyes shot up to his, and you saw unwavering and unbridled absolution in his eyes. You shivered as you hiked up your skirt and hooked your fingers around the hem of your panties. You maintained eye contact with him as you tossed them to him. His eyes narrowed as he caught them, but he said nothing of your continued bratty attitude. 

“Now crawl to me.”

Like a good girl, you follow his orders, and he offers you a hand–a kind gesture that puts you on edge. As he pulls you up, he presses your underwear to your lips, and once again, like a good girl, you obey by opening your mouth. 

He gives you a pleased smile before leaning in; his lips pressed to your ear as he poses a demand. “Tell me that you need me to touch you. Tell me that you want this, bunny.”

As you give him a muffled whine of approval, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he tilts his head in mock confusion. Fine, you think, I’ll just fucking show you. You hike one leg up on the desk, effectively pinning him in and allowing him the inability to deny that this is something you want.

And with the urgency of someone who has been dreaming of this very moment with you, Suo pulls your skirt up and slips his fingers inside your heat. And at first, he’s gentle, but as your muffled moans spur him on, he can’t help how he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot or the way he simultaneously rubs his palm against your swollen and aching clit. He watches you with such intensity that it makes you feel akin to being under a microscope. You can feel him studying you, committing every expression and involuntary movement to memory. 

His fingers explore you hungrily; he flicks his wrist, and his eyes stay locked onto your face as he finds the spot he knows that can make you shatter. His kisses along your jaw feel scalding, and you can feel the upward twitch of his lips as your eyes roll back for him.

He wants to see you at your most vulnerable and your most beautiful. He wants to see you unravel in the messiest of ways for him. And when you finally climax, he lets out a shaky breath, an indication that he’s so very close to losing control of himself—and all for you.

“There you go, bunny. You’re so much more tolerable when you have that look on your face.”

With a snort, you adjust your clothes as Suo’s intense gaze lingers. His voice sounds level as he speaks, “Semester starts Monday, but I can adjust your schedule to accommodate your classes…” 

And while you hadn’t intended for this Summer job to be anything but a quick and easy way to make money, you truly can’t deny the force of the pull you feel for him. 

“That sounds great, boss.”