EXPRESS YOURSELF

Your marriage with Leon was relatively new, being shy of just four years, most of your friends made sure you knew good and well how they felt about the relationship. Of course, many of your friends were supportive, because if you were happy and he treated you well nothing else mattered. They knew he was older, knew he had a job, spoiled you and cared for you like no one’s business.

But in every conversation where your friends would talk about their own boyfriends or their relationships, there would always be one person to remind you of the obvious.

It was painful, honestly. You knew the age thing would be controversial to some, and you knew the complications of it all. Hell, Leon was the one that kept rejecting you despite your adamance to be with him.

But you saw past the age difference and more at the man he was.

And being the doting, caring husband he was, he always put you before him. It didn’t matter the case, the situation or the scenario, if it benefitted you and made you happy, it was done. Which is why you were currently sprawled out naked on the warmth of the messy bed, legs spread apart as he propped himself between the softness of your thighs.

The two of you tried, key word: tried, to enjoy each other’s presences. A natural, soft kind of intimacy saved for nights where he wasn’t tired and felt particularly eager on pleasing you. And he so desperately wanted to please you. To soak in the warmth of your body against his, to press his lips against your neck and hear your soft little moans as he nudged his cock against the wetness of your walls.

Except that plan, that thought in his mind was evaporated about as quickly as steam from a pan. By the time he fished out his cock between slow mouth kisses and gentle squeezes of your ass, the damn thing just flopped out. Not hard, not even a half chub. It was like looking at deflated balloon, just soft and embarrassingly so.

The embarrassment had crawled up his spine and rushed to his neck so fast he nearly got dizzy. Of course, now was one of the times his dick decided to stop working. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to fuck you. How could he not when you were looking up at him so pretty and expectantly, glossy lips and wide eyes watching his every move.

It was terrible. Worse than anything he’s ever dealt with or any person he’s ever fought.

The arousal was there, the want was there. You were right there. But it was like his mind and body were disconnected, unplugged from the port. He tried giving himself a few strokes, busying himself with the smell of you and the taste of your skin hoping (and praying) that he would just get hard.

For a moment, he couldn’t even meet your eye. He was terrified. Would you take it the wrong way? Would you be disappointed? God, what would you think?

He tried to busy your eyes from anything but him, peeled off your shorts and guided you against him as he tried to work with what he had. The last thing he wanted was for you to see and immediately think the worse; the disappointment, the rejection, the dissatisfaction, the unattractiveness. Throughout all his inner thoughts and the waves of worries, he only thought about you.

And that’s how you suddenly wound up with a pillow under your hips and one leg pulled over his shoulder. He didn’t care for himself anymore, and despite the lack of warmth from your bodies pressed together just five minutes ago, he was more than happy to focus on the pretty wetness of your pussy.

His mouth was placed sloppily against your cunt, eyes glued onto your face to soak in every little gasp and reaction you had. His tongue dragged up in long almost frantic slides, moving up and down, then side to side. Your hips jerked forward, feet digging into the mattress below you as you moaned softly.

His lips were swollen and glossy with the thin sheen of your own juices, mouth inching further and further up to suck at your clit. Two of his thick fingers were shoved knuckle deep into the weeping mess of your cunt, pumping in and out in slow squelches. His digits turned, scissoring and curling against your walls as he flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit.

His other hand gripped tightly around your thigh, squeezing the flesh and guiding your hips against his face to literally smother himself in the taste of you. He let out a low, vibrating groan into your pussy, eyes fluttering slightly as you ran a hand through his hair.

Your fingers curled into his hair, back arching as his mouth latched around your clit again. His nose buried against the dampness of your skin, fingers pulling out with a quiet, wet pop. You let out a whiny moan at the loss of his fingers, pussy clenching around the cold air. “W-what, why’d you stop?”

You can feel his grin against your folds, eyes shifting up from the slick in front of him to the verbal disappointment on your face. “Patience, baby. Just getting a better angle, ‘s all.”

You huffed impatiently, shifting back as he gently tucked the pillow further under your hips. He planted his lips against your inner thighs in teasing, soft kisses as he angled your hips up just another fraction or two. Staring down at him, you let out another little noise of impatience only to be met with a smug grin from your husband.

“God, baby. Don’t get all worked up now.”

“Leon. Hurry up.”

He laughs, warm and muffled against your thigh before giving you a slow nod. He nips at your inner thigh, enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed against the bed. “Okay, okay. ‘M sorry.”

He gives you approximately two seconds to prepare yourself before immediately diving back into your pussy. He presses a firm hand against the soft of your stomach, forcing you still as he mouthed open kisses to your slit. Whimpering shakily as he firmly pressed a calloused fingertip against your clit, he dragged the base of his tongue along the slick of your arousal.

He peppers your folds in kisses, spreading your lips apart to gently slide the tip of his tongue against your fluttering entrance. He’s met with momentary resistance, before gently pressing his tongue an inch further.

“Oh, fuck.” You gasp heavily, fingers digging into his scalp as you subconsciously buck your pussy against his face. He sloppily slides just the tip of his tongue inside, curling the pink muscle and rotating it slightly. His thumb presses firmly against your throbbing clit, rubbing quick, tight circles against the nub.

Between your frantic squirms, moany gasps and the audible sounds of your pussy, Leon’s subtle sounds of approval are barely heard. A growing warmth spreads from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes. Tugging mindlessly on Leon’s hair, though he doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes are entirely fixated on you. He watches as your body tenses, hips stuttering forward at the heavy pinch of your clit.

Your orgasm washes over you abruptly between airy moans, an intense heat sprouting in your gut before breaking off into a long simmering buzz. Your thighs twitch against his head, his large, calloused palms wrapped around the flesh of your thighs to soothe you. He pulls back slightly, watching your chest rise and fall in labored breaths as he laps at the mess of juices against your slit. He licks the gloss from his lips, splattered with your own arousal and juices before hesitating.

You’re completely oblivious to the moment, slowly coming down from your high as he strokes your thigh. His eyes dart down momentarily towards the growing tent in his boxers and the persistent throb of his cock finally coming to life. Without thinking twice, he lets out a small chuckle, gaining your attention as he moved to wrap an arm around your waist.

“What’s so funny?” You asked between labored breaths, shimmying against him as he gave your hip a small squeeze. You ran a hand up to his forearm, glancing down as his other hand moved to free himself for the second time tonight.

“No nothing, hon’.” He rubs his thumb up and down the expanse of your waist, looking down at you as he allowed his hand to roam. “Just thinking.”

You smiled slightly, a bit dazed and confused as you tilt your head at him. “About what?”

“How many times I can stuff that pretty pussy full.”

His hand rested loosely against your thigh, fingers inching towards your inner thigh through the fabric of your jeans. His thumb mindlessly traced the seams of the stitching to your pants, occasionally giving the soft flesh underneath a gentle squeeze.

Between Blue Öyster Cult and Bon Jovi songs, the two of you have traveled through the infinite horizons of Kansas and the skylines of Illinois. The sun was dipping towards the ground, pushing out the darkness of the night as it got ready for its daily rest. Dean’s fingers tapped against the wheel in time with the beat of the current AC/DC song, eyes darting along the road as you seemed content in drinking the gas station lemonade he got you six miles back.

There was a comfortable, relaxing stretch of silence between the two of you, attentions split between the sight of the dark sun set and the comfort of one another. He glanced your way, a silent double check of a gesture to ensure you were okay before darting his eyes back to the road.

“Illinois is nice, right?”

“Much better than the corn fields of Kansas.”

Dean lets out a small laugh through his nose at your words, windshield wiper nosily swiping across the window as the car turned a sharp right into the warmth of a small town. The car passes a large catsup bottle tower, a bright red and blue striped bottle that read OLD ORIGINAL CATSUP in white font. The two of you look at each other at the sight of the tower before sharing a quick laugh.

“From the sight of corn to the love of ketchup. Cute.” He raises his eyebrows quickly, shaking his head slightly as the impala drives past a small family exiting a nearby diner. You glance at the large upside down horseshoe sign, quickly turning to Dean.

“Oh look how cute! The horseshoe, maybe they have pie.” Dean looks your way as you point towards the building, leaning forward to get a better view of the exterior.

“You know if they have good pie, you’ll never hear the end of it.” You snickered slightly as he gave your thigh another long squeeze.

The impala passes by the small parking lot that held the cozy, simple looking diner, moving down the street towards a stretch that revealed a gas station on one side and a short motel on the other. From the corner of your eye, you can see Dean checking the layouts of the town, his hand moving against your thigh to reach for your hand.

You reached down to allow his hand to engulf yours, fingers intertwining one another as he pulled up into the motel’s parking lot. You stretched your legs out slightly, watching the town bustle alive as people walked to and fro. You smiled at the sight of two kids running back and forth the motel’s sidewalk, tossing a soft football between each other. It was a cute sight that connected the relationship of the town and the soothing environments of a ketchup loving Collinsville.

Dean reaches for the keys, killing the engine with a low rumble as it cools beneath the hood. “Alright baby, I’ll be right back.” You turn to him as he opens the driver side door, quickly leaning towards him.

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” He hesitates, one foot out the door just hovering over the concrete ground before turning to look at you. He gently cups the back of your neck, brushing a few fly away strands of hair from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll be quick. You just sit here and look pretty.”

You roll your eyes with a little laugh, shifting forward to meet his lips in another quick peck before he pulls back to file out the car. Your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind him, turning around to look at you through the windshield before giving you a cute little finger wave as he makes his way towards the motel office. You watch him for just a bit longer before turning to look out the window at the growing coolness of the sun’s absence. The sky paints itself in a light blend of greys and blues, the duo of kids rush around against the sidewalk screaming at each other as the smaller child throws the football into the roof’s gutter.

You nosily study the interaction, watching as the seemingly older child smacks the smaller one in the back of the head. A nearby motel door opens in a rush, and a woman who looks to be their mother comes out to scold them. You press your lips together, not wanting to laugh at the demise of the children before turning back to the familiar sight of your boyfriend.

He greets you with a smug grin, a dangle of a small set of keys in between his fingers and a quick jog through the lot to open the door for you. You hope out with a small groan, stretching the tightness of your muscles before looking down at his extended palm. You read the yellowed printed numbers on the small card dangling from the keychain, forcing out a deliberate stretch. “Our room’s downstairs. Hopefully we don’t have loud upstairs neighbors.” You hum quietly at his words, mindlessly running a hand up and down his leather sleeve before leaning closer to him.

“There’s also that food place we saw, but there’s a restaurant three minutes away if you want—” He stops as you gently tap his shoulder, glancing your way as you look towards where the two children were playing.

“These little kids dropped their ball.”

“Oh, really? That’s some bad luck. I’m sure the manager will help.”

He slowly turns back to you, falling silent at the look on your face. His eyes dart along your face, letting out a dramatic sigh as you gave him a sweet little smile and a quick bat of your eyelashes. “Aw, c’mon, Deanie. They were so sad.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ll be sad if I don’t get something to eat in two minutes,” your smile immediately fell, a blank look filling your face as you moved back to cross your arms over your chest. “Baby. Stop that, don’t sulk.”

“If you don’t help those kids get their football, an empty stomach is gonna be the least of your worries.” Dean immediately shuts up, the key jingling in between his fingers as he glanced over to the roof again before letting out a quick tsk of his teeth.

“Alright,” he looked back at you, handing you the key as he shrugged off his leather jacket. You grabbed the jacket before he could fully take it off, a bright smile slipping onto your lips. “Alright. I’ll get the ball.”

You hummed simply, closing the car door as you watched your boyfriend rather hesitantly, make his way around the back of the building. You folded the jacket over your arm, lingering by the car for a moment before mindlessly moving towards the sidewalk. You squint your eyes as he hops onto a garbage bin, awkwardly climbing up onto the roof with a heavy grunt. You enjoy the show of your boyfriend pulling himself up, eyeing the tight expanse of his muscles as he pulls himself up.

You can faintly see the flash of dirty orange hiding comfortably in gutter, craning your neck as Dean (not so) quietly makes his way towards the football. He makes a show of grabbing the ball and tossing it onto the floor before returning to safely hop down the roof.

You waited until he got down safely before quickly giving him a few golf claps, walking up to him as he moved to where the ball now rested on the asphalt. He turned to you as you wrapped a hand around his bicep, leaning up to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He smiled softly, quickly looking away as if he wasn’t practically puffing his chest out in pride.

“Thank you, baby. That was really kind of you.” He hums lowly, eyes following you as you walked past him to knock on the motel door where the mother and her two kids were. He quickly steps beside you, football in one hand as the mother swings the door open.

The kids curiously look around her, one of them immediately spotting the football in Dean’s hand. Before anyone can speak, the kid pushes past his mother with a broad grin. “My football! Thank you so much!” He doesn’t even wait for Dean to extend his arm out to give him the ball. He all but snatches the ball from his hand, eagerly pumping his fist as he shows his mom, who’s looking a bit shy.

“Thank you. The manager wouldn’t even pick up the phone.” You turn to look at Dean who just rolls his eyes before giving the mother a friendly grin.

“No problem, just reel back that arm in the future.” The younger brother shies away with a red face as his brother glares at him, but instantly seems to forget the situation as they toss the ball back and forth.

The door closes after the mother offers another tired smile and about ten more ‘thank you’s. You beam at Dean, moving to offer his jacket back to him before hesitating. “No offense, but I’m not going anywhere with you smelling like rain water.”

He lets out a gasp of fake offense, bringing a hand up to his chest as he steps closer to you. “You don’t like my natural scent?” Your nose wrinkles at the smell of rubber, rain gutter muck and roof tiles emitting from him as he steps closer.

“I think you need a bubble bath.”

“What about the pie?” You roll your eyes, shoving the keys into his hand as the two of you turn to walk towards the room.

“The pie can wait.” Dean groans dramatically but follows close beside you anyways. The two of you walk down the sidewalk, stopping at the end of the building to your room. He unlocks the door, pushing it open before stepping in after you.

His eyes are glued onto your every move, tossing the keys on the bed as he awkwardly clears his throat. “D’you like it? The bed is big, huh?” Your eyes dart to the yellow floral queen sized bed arranged strategically in front of a large square TV.

“It’s cute.” You agree simply, to which he quickly lifts a finger, approaching the bathroom with fast strides. You follow after him, peeking into the bathroom as he dramatically showcases the room like he was at a house opening.

The bathroom was actually pretty decent for a motel bathroom. Big, spacious, quaint little towel rack and a bathtub with a shower head attached. You nodded slowly with a pleased grin on your face, turning back to Dean with a happy smile. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out a sigh of relief, shoulders dropping slightly as you nod at him. He steps to the side, moving towards the door but you catch him before he can make it to the doorframe.

“Where are you going?” He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, glancing towards the bed before looking at you again. “Come take a bath with me.”

“Oh, you were serious?” You give him a quick look to which he immediately steps closer, wrapping a hand around your hip. “Like right now?”

“Or you could watch me.” You’re squirming out of his grip, moving towards the bathtub as you kick off your shoes. He’s physically caught between the urge of joining you and the thought of stuffing his face. He watches you shimmy out of your shirt and quickly steps behind you, hands fumbling with the buttons of his jeans.

“Okay, but pie after?” You laugh loudly at his question, turning around to face him as you cup his face in your hands.

“I promise you, pretty boy. You’ll get all the pie you want.”

You give him an all too quick but silent nod, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as he worshipfully tugs your scrubs down inch by inch. You lift your hips up slightly to ease the fabric down, hands awkwardly gripping the blanket beside you as he takes his sweet time. His eyes follow the smooth expanse of your thigh, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly very dry lips.

He quickly pulls away, tugging the pants fully down before setting them somewhere on the corner of the bed. He immediately settles back into your spread thighs, sucking in a slow breath as his eyes dart back and forth as if he was trying to capture this moment with his mind. Your eyes followed his gaze as his attention shifted from your inner thighs to your clothed cunt right in front of him.

He turned to look up at you, leaning to the side to press an open mouthed kiss on your inner thigh. His teeth give you a quick nip, hard enough to have you yelping back in surprise before soothing the prickle with the tip of his tongue. You can’t look away, eyes stuck on him as he makes his way further up. And just when your breath hitches at his close proximity to where you needed him the most, he quickly moves his face to your other thigh.

Wrapping his hands around your knees to bend your legs back and to guide them over his shoulder. He scoots forward, tilting his head to suck on your thigh, kissing and teething at the flesh hard enough that your skin buzzed against his lips. You’re trying so, so hard to be patient, to just relax and let the two of you savor the moment. But the longer he maintains eye contact and deliberately ignores the ache in between your legs, the more persistent the throb of your clit is.

“Denny.” You speak out in a strained voice, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as he gives you a small tilt of his head.

“Hm?” He presses a chaste kiss against your thigh, hands sliding up to ghost over the waistband of your underwear.

“Can you— y’know..” You trailed off, waving your hand at him towards the general vicinity of your crotch. His eyes slowly trail down to where you’re motioning to, the corners of his mouth tilting up just a fraction.

“Oh, this?” He presses the pad of his thumb firmly against your clothed slit, quickly reaching out to hold you in place as you wince back.

“Yes.” You sucked in a sharp breath as he gives you a little shrug, thumb dragging up and up to rub against your clit. You arch up slightly, quickly grabbing at his hand around your hip. “Stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing. I’m exploring.” He corrects quickly, pulling his finger away to rub the dampness that lingered on the tips of his fingers. You rolled your eyes, holding his heavy gaze as he pulled your underwear to the side. You hooked two fingers under the bunched up fabric, watching intently as he leaned down to press his lips against your slick mound.

You choke out on a broken moan, your hand shooting down to rest against the top of his head as he nudges his mouth in between your pussy lips. He sighs shakily against your cunt, messily dragging the base of his tongue up around your slit. He presses a wet kiss against your clit, lightly sucking on the throbbing nub.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you moan at the flick of the tip of his tongue against your clit. “Mm, you taste so good.” He gasps out against your clit, words muffling and vibrating up your spine. His lips slide down the slippery slope of your cunt, pressing another kiss by your entrance before lightly twirling his tongue in your hole.

His tongue brushes back up towards your clit as a spark of electricity rushes through your body. And just when you’re starting to get used to the feel of his tongue sliding side to side and up and down against your slit, he pulls away. He pulls back, leaving a trail of saliva and arousal in his wake before pressing a kiss on the top of your mound.

You fight back the urge to let a little sigh at the sight of him. His chin glistens with your juices as he gazes up at you with heavy eyes. He quickly licks his lips, moving up until his face hovered over yours, quietly capturing your lips in a slow kiss. You wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him closer as your tongues mesh together for dominance.

His hands fumble around for the waistband of his scrub pants, breaking the kiss as he let out strained, almost whiny breath against your lips. He clumsily tugs the fabric down, legs clomping against yours as he kicks the pants down onto the floor. Your eyes instantly zone down at the strain in his boxer briefs, sitting up slightly against the headboard as he plants himself back between your spread legs.

He quickly looks up at you, cheeks flushed a light pink as he frees his erection. You rest the palm of your hand on the back of his shoulder, sliding down as you guided his hips in slow rocks against yours. His hips stutter forward at the arousal coating his length, letting out a breathy sigh as he quickly leans his head into the comfort of your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly snap shut, the head of his cock getting caught at your entrance before sloppily sliding up again. The two of you breathe heavily in tandem, soft groans and quick little praises filling the room. The friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making your head spin.

You feel the heat building between your legs, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he rolls his hips again, biting down on your neck to quiet himself. You shiver at the feeling, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock as it gets caught against your entrance again.

The bed creaks beneath you as he grinds into your mound, teeth nipping and biting at your neck. Your fingers grip his shoulders tightly, his hands roaming over your hips as he impatiently tugs at the hem of your shirt. You quickly raise your arms so he can pull it off and toss it aside.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to trail soft, chaste kisses along your collarbone. “Can I fuck you?” He asks in between a whiny groan. You tilt your head back as he inches his kisses towards your jaw, quietly nodding at his question.

He eagerly wraps a hand around his cock to carefully guide himself towards your entrance before pulling back to look at you. “Oh—I uh, I actually don’t have a condo—”

You snicker slightly, ghosting your hand over his as you gently pulled him closer until your pussy stretched around his length.

“Okay, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

“I noticed you didn’t come home last night.” Dennis looks over at Trinity as she slides in beside him at the nurse’s station.

“What?” He tilts his head slightly, like he has no idea what she’s talking about.

“Have a good night? Did you sleep well?” She stares at the board above them, leaning back as she crosses her arms.

“Uh, yeah. I slept great.”

“Great?” She repeats with a little tone of surprise.

“Yes.” He says shortly, a hint of annoyance, looking at Santos who grins but nods.

“Yeah, sex’ll put you to sleep real quick.”

“Oh, please.” He huffs slightly, looking up at the board as he clears his throat.

“But you didn’t deny it.”

His eyes quickly dart over to her, rolling his eyes before turning to look over at you as you step into a room.

Your first chart of the morning is a teenager with a sore throat. Easy.

Or it should be.

You walk in to find a 15‑year‑old boy scrolling on his phone and his mother impatiently tapping her foot against the tiled floor. You give them both a quick grin, opening your mouth to introduce yourself but the mom cuts in.

“He needs antibiotics.” You hesitate, glancing at the teenager who just focuses on whatever game he’s busy with.

“Right, well, I can examine him and then we’ll determine what he needs.”

The kid shrugs. “It doesn’t even hurt that bad.”

You nod slowly, doing a quick exam anyways. Mild redness, no fever, negative rapid strep. Completely viral.

You explain that, but the mom doesn’t accept ‘viral’. She automatically assumes viral means in dire need of every antibiotic and medication out there.

“So you’re refusing to treat him?”

You pause for a second, inhaling slowly before rubbing the side of your head. “I am… treating him appropriately.”

“Well, he needs medication. Can’t you see how much pain he’s in?” She huffs, muttering something about ‘doctors these days’. You slowly turn back to her son who just shakes his head in boredom.

“Okay, well, I’ll let his nurse know that he’s in a lot of pain. I’ll be back.”

You step out the room, closing the door behind you with a short sigh and a quick handful of hand sanitizer.

Your next patient is an older man in his seventies, sitting upright but sweaty and pale. He quickly looks up at you as you enter the room again, gripping the rails of the bed. This is the second time you’ve checked him, and his symptoms don’t seem to be changing.

“Feels like the room’s spinning,” he complains. “Is there any way to get an AC going?”

You give him a small smile, glancing down at your chart just for the refresher. You had already ran through an extensive physical exam earlier. His strength is intact, but his gait is a bit unsteady. Could be benign vertigo. Could be something completely different and worse.

“I’ll have a nurse come by with an ice pack and maybe a cup of water to cool you down. How does that sound?”

He nods slowly, leaning back in the bed as he dabs the sweat from his face. “Yeah, send a whole bucket of ice while you’re at it.”

You laugh slightly, taking a note that you’d probably have to order labs and a CT head scan. “I’ll make sure you have enough ice to make an igloo.”

He lets out a content sigh at the thought, quickly sitting up as you’re about to leave the room. “Oh uhm, Dr. Maris?”

You immediately turn around, tucking your chart under your arm with a polite smile. “Are you in any pain?”

“Well, no, but could you uhm…could you send in a male nurse? I have to use the restroom.” He awkwardly fidgets in the bed, giving you a lopsided smile.

“Of course, one will come in soon.”

Your third patient is a woman in her thirties, curled on her side, knees pulled up, face tight with pain.

“Started last night,” she whispers, head propped up on the pillow under her. “It’s worse now.”

You palpate her abdomen and she flinches hard, tensing back like you smacked her. Right lower quadrant tenderness. Fever of 101.

“Did you have a fall or get hurt around this area?” You asked softly, slipping the gloves off and tossing them in the garbage. She shakes her head, leaning back as you slightly lower the bed just enough so she wasn’t too uncomfortable.

Could be appendicitis.

“Okay, I’ll order some labs and I’ll keep you updated.” She nods quietly as you step out the room, pumping another pump of hand sanitizer into your palm.

You’re halfway through ordering the labs, pain control, and a stat CT abdomen when Perlah saunters towards you. You look up at her giving her a quick smile before turning back towards your orders.

“You okay? You look a little pale.”

You don’t even look up. “Wow, thanks. Good morning to you too.”

She lets out a short laugh, studying you as you keep typing, the weight of yesterday still buzzing behind your ribs. “Seriously. You feeling okay?”

“Never better. Excuse me, I gotta get these to Dana.”

“Don’t worry I got it.” She pats you on the back, reaching for your files as she subtly shooed you away. You give her a grateful smile, quickly rushing towards a nearby bathroom while you had the opportunity.

You were halfway through your morning labs when a charge nurse calls your name.

“Dr. Maris? Room 13, you’re uh— Mr. Jackson, He’s not looking good.”

You grabbed your stethoscope and headed down the hall, your steps quickening with each step as you followed after the nurse. You stepped into the room, eyes stopping at the same pale man you’d spoken with earlier. The second you stepped into the room, it was obvious something was wrong.

He was pale, breathing shallow, lips tinged with blue. “Sir?” You quickly moved to the bedside, rubbing your hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

He didn’t respond, didn’t move, completely unresponsive. Your fingers moved towards his neck, looking for a pulse before shifting to his arm. You let out a small sigh of relief as you finally found the pulse, it was the easy but it was there.

You’re turning your head to tell the nurse to grab you a crash cart, but one’s already wheeling one in. The same clumsily male who electrocuted you rushed in, giving you a tight smile. “Hi—I won’t electrocute you again. I learned from last time—”

“Jordan, just step back.” You lowered the head of the bed, opening his airway and checking his breathing again.

“Oh it’s actual J—” He quickly shuts up at the look you gave him, as another nurse rushed in to help.

Nothing.

You started compressions. Your arms moved automatically, your mind narrowing to the rhythm, the pressure, desperation rushing through you.

“Pulse check.”

You lifted your hands.

Nothing.

“Resume compressions.”

You did.

Again. And again. And again.

Time blurred. Your arms burned. Your vision tunneled. You heard someone call out the time, but it didn’t register.

You just kept going. Because stopping meant admitting he wasn’t coming back. Because stopping meant the end of a life you refused to give up on. Your muscles are tight from the repetitive movement, skin hot from the exertion.

“Dr. Maris,” a nearby nurse whispers softly, but you’re unable to tell who it is. Your focus is straight tunnel vision on the patient, quickly looking over at the hand on your shoulder.“That’s…that’s enough.”

Your hands hovered over his chest, blinking up at Jack, or Jordan or whatever his name was. You look down at your patient, you swallow the tight lump in your throat, wiggling the numbness in your fingers.

“Time of death… 10:42.”

The words rung out in the silence of the room, settling like a puff of ash that you couldn’t wipe off your clothes no matter how hard you tried. The team slowly filtered out, the room emptying until it was just you and him. The man who’d been alive an hour ago. The man you’d promised you’d take care of.

You stood there, staring at his still chest, your own breath shaky and uneven. You’d done everything right. Should you have checked in on him sooner? When his labs got back would you notice the very thing that went wrong? Was he scared?

You blinked rapidly, wiping your hands before taking a deep breath. You held that inhale of air for four long beats trying to ease the blur and the ringing in your head.

You’re okay. It’s okay. This is… this is fine. You’re totally, one hundred percent fine.

You leaned against the wall, just for a second, your hands still shaking as you tried to collect yourself.

You’d lost patients before. But something about this one hit differently. A tight burn fired beneath your ribs, mind buzzing with different scenarios, different what ifs. You pinched the bridge of your nose, pushing off the wall.

You still had the rest of your shift to get through. You couldn’t stop and sit down. You had other things to do, other patients to see. You wiped the emotion from your face, writing down the time of death in the chart with a tense hand that wouldn’t stop cramping.

Keep going. Keep moving. Don’t think.

The rest of your patients molded together into one big ball of static. Room 12 was a simple case of a young woman with dehydration. The kind of patient you’ve treated before and could treat in your sleep. But you hesitated. Asking the same questions, wondering if maybe you were missing something, asking if Robby could just check over the labs and charts. Just in case.

But your thoughts kept drifting back to Room 13.

You stepped out of the room as Robby handed you the chart, giving you a pat on the back before disappearing. You took the opportunity to press your fingers to your temples, mentally scolding yourself.

Focus.

You pushed off the wall and kept going.

In Room 8, a man with a sprained ankle sat waiting for discharge instructions. Easy. In and out. You typed the note, but the words blurred. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision.

The nurse in the room walked out with you, double back as she gave you a quick once over. “Dr. Maris? I’m really sorry to hear about your patient… are you okay?”

Your head snapped up at the mention, hesitating for a moment before nodding all too quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She opened her mouth to question you again but Trinity quickly rounded the corner and stopped by the two of you. She had a little smirk, getting ready to tease you about last night, but after noticing the look on your face the smirk quickly falls. “Oh, Dr. Maris.” You wiped away a strand stray of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Yes?”

“Could you come with me? I have a four year old patient with bruises on his back. I’m kinda stumped.” You excused yourself from the nurse, rolling the tension in your shoulders as you followed Santos.

Your last straw came in Room 5, a middle‑aged man with abdominal pain. You started palpating his abdomen, testing where specifically his pain was.

“Does it hurt here?” You asked, pressing near his ribs.

He shook his head.

You pressed lower, quickly pulling away as he winced slightly.

“There. That hurts.”

You nodded, but your mind flashed back to your patient, replaying the compressions, the flatline, the ache in your shoulders. You snapped back, blinking a few times before writing your note and ordering labs as you walked out. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the hall that a nurse jogged up behind you. “Dr. Maris!” You sighed heavily, momentarily looking up at the ceiling before turning to him.

“What?”

“Did you mean to order a chest x-ray?”

You blinked, lips curling down into an annoyed frown. “No, because I ordered a CBC.”

“No, you ordered chest.” He held up the chart for you to see, your eyes darting back and forth on the form. You hummed slightly, looking back up at him with a small nod.

“Sorry. I’ll fix it.” You said, voice thin.

The nurse didn’t move, looking down at the chart as you grabbed it from him. You quickly fixed the order, handing it back to him as he lingered for another moment. You forced a polite smile, quickly walking down the hall again.

You made it all the way to the supply room before your body finally gave out on you. Not physically, you were still standing, leaning against the wall as you closed the door behind you. You rested the back of your head against the cool of the wall, letting out a shaky breath that almost physically hurt to let go. Your chest felt tight enough that you were certain you’d pass out, hands trembling and clammy, eyes burning past the bright lighting of the room.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, trying to force the feeling away. But the door creaked open anyway, footsteps quickly halting at the sight of you hunched over.

“Hey—”

You stiffened, pushing off the door as you looked up at Robby, who stood in the doorway, one hand still on the handle. His expression shifted from casual to concerned the second he noticed it was you.

“Whoa, hey hey,” he spoke softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Hey. What’s going on?”

He crouched down slightly to meet your eyes, one hand hovering over your back as you wiped your eyes eventhough you weren’t crying. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Robby raised an eyebrow, hesitating for a moment before resting a large hand on your shoulder. “You don’t look so good, kiddo.”

“I’m just tired. I’m fine. I promise. I’m good.” You spoke quickly, words slurred into one long drag.

“I think you should go home.”

“No, no I’m good, Robby. I can finish the shift.”

Robby stepped closer, not crowding you, just anchoring you with a firm rub. “You’re clearly not okay. You’re burnt out. You’re going home.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting the sting behind your eyes and the embarrassment in your gut. “I can’t just walk out.”

“Yes, you can. And you’re going to.”

You blinked up at him, stunned by the certainty in his voice. You shook your head. “I can’t. They need me.”

“We can handle the shift without you. Rest.”

You stared at him for a second before slowly nodding. “Okay, fine.” He smiles softly at you, squeezing your shoulder gently before motioning towards the door.

“Good,” he murmured. “Come on. I’ve got you.”

Your apartment was too quiet, fan whirring over head as you dropped your bag by the door. You kicked off your shoes, sinking into the couch as you turned onto your back. You stared up at the ceiling fan as it spun around slowly, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes.

You pulled a blanket over yourself and stared at the fan’s wings, letting the couch envelop you in comfort. You didn’t want to think about what happened. You didn’t want to worry over the what ifs or the fatigue in your body. You just wanted to sleep.

You must’ve zoned out, or maybe you fell asleep. Was it possible to do both? You were sure you must’ve done both somehow. You’re snapped awake at the ring of your doorbell, sitting upright on the couch as you looked around. You glanced over at your watch, wiping the sleep from your face as you pushed off the sofa and made your way towards the speaker.

You pressed the button without thinking, stepping away to change out of your now wrinkled scrubs. You tossed on an old graphic t-shirt and you were just pulling out your sweats when there was four quick knocks on the front door. You yawned slightly, tugging the pants up as you stumbled out towards the hallway. You dragged yourself to the door and opened it with a slow drag.

Dennis stood there. Hair messy. Scrubs swapped for a hoodie and sweats. A takeout bag in one hand. At the sight of you, his worried look quickly turns into a small smile.

“Hey. He speaks quietly, like he’s afraid you’ll run off.

You blinked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

He lifted the bag a little. “Brought dinner.”

“Oh— I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I texted you but I figured I could just come drop you off some food.. figured you might need something.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to say you were fine, and that he didn’t have to come but you quickly opened the door a little more. “Thank you, I really appreciate that… do you want to come in or?”

“Oh, no it’s okay, I don’t have to.”

He reached the bag out towards you as you grabbed it from his hand, examining it before motioning with your head. You stepped aside, moving towards the couch. He hesitated for a moment, looking down the apartment hallway before walking in after you. He closed the door behind him, stepping over your cluster of shoes. He sat on the edge of the coffee table across from you, elbows resting on his knees.

You leaned towards the armrest to face him, pulling out the takeout and setting it on the coffee table. You carefully opened the milkshake lid, peeking inside before dipping a fry in the vanilla shake.

“You okay?” He asked after a moment of silence, eyes shifting along your face. “Robby told me you went home early.”

You winced, taking a bit of your fry. “Great.”

“Technically Santos told me, but he was just worried.. We all were.”

You sank back onto the couch, pulling the blanket around you again. “I’m fine.”

For a while, the two of you sat in silence. He didn’t push for an explanation of what happened, you remained focused on the food in front of you. After a few minutes, Dennis hesitantly stands up, catching your attention.

You looked up at him, sitting back slightly. “You’re leaving already?”

“If I stay any longer Santos will think we’re sleeping together.. again,” you let out a breathy laugh, nodding slowly before wiping your hands on your pants. “I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay, thank you for the food.” You nodded quietly, following him as he hesitantly makes his way towards the front door again. He twists the door knob, pulling the door open slightly before turning to look at you again. He gently rubs your hip with his free hand, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Get some rest,” he reminds with a gentle murmur, stepping out of your apartment as he walks backwards just to look at you for a little longer. “Good night.”

Of course he would never admit that to anyone but Robby, and he’d quickly shut down any doubts anyone else had. That didn’t matter. What mattered at all times was you.

You were perfect in every way possible. From the way you looked, the way you treated your patients, the way you worked with others. You were easy to talk to, kind, respectful, and had not one bone of malice in you. No one could complain. You were a literal saint.

His eyes instantly found yours as he stepped in for the shift switch off, watching as you lingered and talked to Mel who looked like she was genuinely appreciating the distraction. You didn’t seem to notice him yet, and he was fine with that, the last thing he’d want is to interrupt a meaningful conversation.

“You’re staring again, brother.” Jack has to force his eyes away from you at the sound of Robby’s voice, giving him a small lopsided grin. He quickly straightens up, turning towards Robby at the sound of your laughter to keep from immediately looking over.

“I tend to check on my residents when I arrive. You might want to do the same.” He retorted lightly, glancing over at a nurse as she turned around the corner towards the computers.

“You saying I neglect my residents?” Robby asks with slight mock offense, resting a hand on his chest. He nods over to Dana as she makes her leave, which catches Jack’s attention who glances over his shoulder to offer the nurse a silent smile.

“I would never say that.” Jack trailed off slightly, giving Robby a certain look to which he just chuckled and shook his head.

The two of them simultaneously look your way as you finished your conversation with Mel. Jack’s already pushing off the counter as you found the corner and make your way towards a nearby board. He gives Robby a quick pat on the back before disappearing completely from his field of view as a nurse calls out for him.

“Hi sweetheart.” Your head nearly snaps off as you quickly turn around, bringing your attention down as you look up at Robby. Giving him a bright smile and a polite nod, you step back half expecting him to tell you to follow him.

“Oh, hi Dr. Robby. H’you doing?” Your eyes follow him as he gives you a little shrug, patting the counter before pushing off of it. He approaches you, giving you a tiny smile before glancing up at the board himself.

“Good. Long day, but… nothing too bad,” you nod slightly, glancing up at his side profile as his eyes dart along the screen. You subconsciously turn your body to face him, before hesitantly turning to mimic his stance as you face the board too. “Let’s hope it’s still like this.”

You hum softly, staring up at the board as you’re looking through available patients before turning at the sound of his footsteps departing. “Leaving already?” You ask curiously to which he hesitates for a moment, looking around for someone you’re unsure of before tucking his hands into his pockets.

“If I stay any longer, I might jinx the place’s peace.” He says lightly, shrugging away the question as he walks backwards. You roll your eyes playfully, shooing him away before quickly waving the air from his bad luck.

“Fine, fine. Have a good night, Dr. Robby!” You wave him away as he grins down at you, waving over his shoulder with quick, wide steps out the building.

When you turn around you nearly bump into Jack, who quickly provides a steady hand on your shoulder to walk around you. “Oh, Dr. Abbot! I was just gonna look for you.” He pauses mid-stride, glancing back over his shoulder at you. Giving you a small nod for you to walk with him, he slows down his step just enough for you to fall into step beside him.

“What’s up?” He looks up from the chart in his hand, flipping a page as he stops just in front of an unoccupied room.

“I just wanted to update you on the patient from last night, the one with the uhm…” you trailed off, snapping your fingers together as you tried to remember the condition of the twelve year old patient. “The aden— ameb…”

“Appendicitis.” He corrects gently, watching the way you quickly nodded and echoed after him.

“Right, yes,” you sighed heavily, shaking your head to yourself at forgetting something so important as that. You looked up at him, as he kept his gaze on the paper in his hand, but you could feel the attention shift toward you. It was a subtle shift, the same familiar way he does when he’s listening but trying his best to not look. “Well, the surgery went well, and she’s currently set on a diet of lime jell-o and apple juice.”

He nods slowly, gently nudging you to walk with him as he redirects you back to the board. The two of you weave through the controlled chaos of the unit, swerving around a small group of nurses who were busily chatting while they had the opportunity to. “Sounds like a child’s dream.”

“Certainly was my dream.” You snickered to yourself, looking up at the board again at the extremely slow roll of patients. You quickly looked over at Jack as he cleared his throat, holding the clipboard out to you.

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between his extended arm and the board before carefully grabbing it from his hand. You glance down at the report, reading over twice before looking up at him as he speaks. “Go ‘head, take him,” you stare at him in momentary confusion, glancing towards the room before looking back at him with a wide smile but he’s quickly cutting you off as you’re getting ready to thank him. “Buttt, come grab me to present.”

You nod quickly, doublechecking the report. “Okay, I will. Thanks.”

You quickly make your way towards S8, making sure your presence is known to the patient as you gently knock on the door. Inside, your patient is an older male, maybe in his late forties, early fifties. He’s sitting upright, breathing a little too fast, hands twisting in the blanket as his eyes frantically find yours.

“Hi sir, I’m one of the residents here, I’ll be helping you today,” you gently close the door behind you, quietly approaching him. “I’m just here to check your vitals, and ask you a few questions. Is that okay?”

The man stares at you for a moment, taking a forced heavy breath before wiping the sweat from his brow line. “Can I get some water? I’m dying here.”

You hesitate for a moment, searching the cabinets and drawers for a thermometer before turning back to him. “I’ll let your nurse know you’re thirsty, and she’ll come with a cup of water. But I just have to check your vitals so your doctor has a basi—”

The patient sighs, smacking his lips together dryly before nodding again. He motions for you to take his temperature, quickly dabbing away the sweat there with his sleeve. You’re quick to check his vitals, taking his forehead temp, listening to his lungs, asking him to rate his pain. You try to get his histories and notes down quickly, not wanting to drag on his discomfort but also allowing yourself enough time to get the proper information.

By the time you step back into the hallway, a nurse is already making her way into the room, offering you a polite smile as you slip around her. You’re slowly looking around for Jack, eyes immediately falling on Dr. Ellis as she quickly walks your way. You tuck the clipboard under your arm, clearing your throat as you side step to walk with her. “Excuse me, Dr. Ellis, have you seen Dr. Abbot anywhere?”

She looks down at you with a small grin, giving you a little shake of her head as she motions down the hall to a room. “He’s with a patient right now. Why? What’s up?”

You nibble on your bottom lip as you glance over at the room he’s in and then back at her before motioning to the clipboard. “I just had a patient with a fever of 100, a cough, pleuritic chest pain, crackles on the right. I was supposed to present but..” You shrugged slightly, turning back to Dr. Ellis as she nods for you to continue.

“And?”

You hand her the clipboard, eyes glued onto her as she reads through what you’ve written and what you’ve noted. “I’m thinking it could possibly be pneumonia? I want a chest x-ray and labs.”

She nods once, giving you an approving smile. “Good. Order them,” she turned slightly towards the nurses’ station before looking at you again. “I’ll go in and introduce myself if Dr. Abbot’s still with his patient in five minutes.”

You blink twice, eyes following her. “You— don’t need to re‑do the exam or anything?”

She glances back at you, raising an eyebrow at you before leaning forward slightly. “I trust you. Don’t forget to order those labs.” You nodded as she walked away, letting out a little sigh of relief.

You lingered in the hallway, slowly making your way towards the nurses’ station to study the board. You set the clipboard down, neatly running your hand over the sheet of paper before looking up at the nurse who entered S8 with a small paper cup of water. Your attention diverts towards Jack as he exits a nearby room, eyes finding yours before stopping at a nearby computer.

You turn back to the screen of the board, glancing his way from the corner of your eye as you slowly inched your way towards Jack. You’re already stepping closer before you realize you’ve done it— drawn in by the gravity he carries. He’s settled into the chair, chart resting against the countertop, reaching for another file as he types in the computer. He hums softly at your close proximity, blinking up at you as you leaned against the desk. “So whaddya got?”

“Forty five year old male, fever, chest pains, crackling on the right,” he nods at you, typing away in the computer as he looks down at his own clipboard. “I put an order for labs and an x-ray.”

He looks at your reflection in the computer as he turns in his seat to stare up at you. The corners of his lips curled up into a pleased grin, nodding again as he slowly stands upright. “Good, that’s good. Let me know the results.”

He doesn’t send you off right away, just gives your lower arm a gentle squeeze before turning to grab the clipboard from the desk. “I’ll go in and introduce myself. You already did the heavy lifting.”

You hesitate, already moving to follow him. “Do you want me to come with you?”

He quickly glances over at you, giving you a small grin before shaking his head. “No. You’ve done your part. Go put in those orders.”

Your eyes follow him as he turns to leave, glancing down at your clipboard before letting out a little sigh. He stops and turns around last second, just within arm’s reach. His expression softens just a fraction as he watches you make your way towards the nurse’s station. Dr. Ellis appears from seemingly nowhere, arms crossed as she looks at him with a knowing smile.

The shift kept moving around you, it was light and easier than your last shift. Four patients, four presentations with Jack, twelve hours of stolen glances and five ‘good job’s. Not that you were counting, put you were definitely putting those in your praise piggy bank. The world keeps moving around you, silent synchronization meshing into something more vulnerable.

You’re busy talking to Dr. Ellis about a patient you had earlier, a little kid with a bad eczema rash. You’re entirely unaware that Jack had been watching you from the opposite corner of the nurse’s station, leaning against the counter as he not so subtly looks down at the time on his watch.

Morning shift was already starting to file in. Dr. Ellis gives you an appraising nod and a quick fist bump as a goodbye before making her way out the building. You linger by a nearby board, and just as Jack takes a step towards you, Victoria comes up to talk to you. He does a quick u-turn, nearly bumping into Robby who’s also just walking it.

Robby steadies Jack with a hand on his upper arm, giving him a worried look before glancing over Jack’s shoulder to the sight of you and Victoria giggling together. Jack rolls his eyes at Robby’s teasing grin. “When are you gonna pull your big boy pants on and talk to her outside of the shift?”

Jack looks over his shoulder at the sight of you laughing comfortably with Victoria, before shrugging slightly at Robby. “Maybe when she isn’t a social magnet.”

Robby shakes his head at his friend’s obvious hesitation, thinking for a moment before turning back to you. He calls your name, getting your attention with a short wave of his hand as Jack turns around. You excuse yourself from your conversation with Victoria, quickly approaching the two of them.

“Morning, Robby,” you greet him with a wide smile, looking between Jack and Robby before tucking your hands into the pockets of your scrubs. “Sleep good?”

“Like a baby.” Robby grins down at you as Jack is more focused on staring at your side profile than attempting to take part of the conversation.

“How was the shift?”

“Oh, it was good? Yeah?” You subconsciously look over at Jack, who gives you a slight nod. “Yeah, it was good.”

Robby slowly looks over at Jack, tilting his head slightly before looking at you with a hum. “Let’s hope we get that good vibe.”

You wave at Robby as he makes his way to speak to Dana. You watch him leave before turning back to Jack who was no longer looking at you. “When’s your next day off?” He asks suddenly, blinking up at you as he steps forward.

You raise an eyebrow at him, opening your mouth to respond before looking up at the ceiling as you thought. “Uhm,” you trailed off, not even registering the warmth of his hand hovering over the small of your back as he subtly guided you out the building with him. “I think… on Friday?”

“Yeah?” He mumbled slightly, eyes darting down to where his hand lingered against the fabric of your scrubs before stopping you once you got too close to the street.

“Why’d you ask?” You look at him curiously before looking left and right along the street.

“Do you drink?”

You fix the sleeve of your undershirt, peeking over at him before giving him a small, confused smile. “Oh, well not really. I’ll have a drink with my friends if I’m at a bar or something but it’s typically not my thing.”

He stares at you as you speak, really listening to what you said before nodding. “That’s good.” He speaks quickly, eyes shifting along your face before taking a small step closer to you.

“Dr. Abbot? Why are you asking all these questions? Am I getting quizzed or something?” You teased lightly, laughing at your own joke with a shake of your head. He smiles down at you, and if this were a cartoon or some cliche romance movie, he would’ve had love hearts circling around his head.

“You can call me Jack, hun.”

“Oh, right. Jack,” you let the word sit on your tongue before stretching your arms out in front of you. “Are you just trying to get to know me better or—”

“Do you want to grab pizza on Friday?”

You look up to him in surprise, looking around as if this were some prank being played on you. He watches the confusion on your face before letting out a quick laugh.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve clarified. Do you want to go grab pizza on Friday with the rest of the night shift?”

“Oh, oh, for a second I thought you were asking me out or something.” His laugh dies down slightly, studying the shyness on your face as you slowly nodded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save that for another day.”

Before you could even get a chance to respond, he waves at you in a silent goodbye as he makes his way to the parking lot. You stand there with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend what just happened.

He was also blunt, cold, and occasionally a reason high your blood pressure has so high. He had a talent for walking into a room and making everyone feel like they’d done something wrong, even when they hadn’t. He didn’t sugarcoat, didn’t joke around during office hours, didn’t do anything remotely fun.

And unfortunately, he was your boss, so you were stuck dealing with his bullshit every day of the week.

So when you saw him walk back into the station floor after a particularly long day and the tight set of his shoulders, you knew everyone would be hearing from him. You watched the clipped way he spoke to another agent, a stormy expression glued onto his face that practically screamed ‘my mission went terribly’.

Today was just one of those days where everyone avoided him like he was a living grenade and he actually like he wasn’t looming over peoples’ shoulders.

You exhaled slowly, bracing yourself as he turned towards his office eyes locking onto you like he already knew exactly where to look.

Great.

Perfect.

Exactly what you needed.

Leon Kennedy, freshly returned, irritated, and stalking toward you like some lion on a mission. He approached you with quick strides, expression unreadable as he didn’t bother stopping in front of you. “You. My office. Now.”

You froze for half a second by your cubicle, clutching your tablet to your chest before following after him as he stormed into his office. He didn’t look up, didn’t bother to check if you were following him because he already knew that you were. He pushed the office door open, taking angry steps towards his desk. You lingered by the safety of the door, slowly closing it before approaching him with hesitant strides.

“Did everything go okay?” You asked softly, testing out the waters of how angry he was today. His eyes snapped up to you, staring at you silently before briefly glancing over to the leather chair on the other side of the desk. You slowly plop down on the edge of the seat, nervously fixing your skirt as you set your tablet down on your lap.

He grabbed a file from the drawer of his desk, tossing it on the table. The papers inside the manila folder slide out onto the dark wood of the table in a messy fan. “Explain this.”

You glanced down at the papers, blinking up at him in confusion. “It’s a…report?” You asked slowly only to which he let out a short sigh.

“I know what it is,” he ran a hand through his hair, opening the folder so the rest of the papers were readable. “Explain to me why this was sent back. The report. The timestamps. The inconsistencies. Pick one. Help me understand.”

You stared at him, momentarily glancing down at the papers before scooting forward in your seat. “I’m uh not sure, sir. I didn’t write the report. Agent Ric—”

“I know who wrote it,” he cut in sharply, leaning his arms against the edge of the desk. “But you’re the one who’s supposed to catch this shit before it hits my desk.”

You hesitated, avoiding his gaze as you quickly read through the files. You’re unsure what to say. If you apologized he’d probably just get on your ass about you not doing your job, but if you pointed out the obvious mistakes then he’d bitch and complain about how you could see them. He impatiently tapped his fingers against the wood of the desk, eyes staring into your soul.

“Look at me.”

You slowly blinked up at him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He could see the debate in your eyes, letting out a small sigh before grabbing the folder from the table. He leans back into his chair, tilting his head slightly as he tapped the palm of his hand against the armrest. “You’re staying late and you’re fixing it.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, eyebrows raising as you quickly rested a hand on your chest. “Me? But I didn’t write that.”

“You’re staying, and that’s that.” He gave you a pity shrug, waving you out the office as he tucked the papers into the folder. “Hope you don’t have any plans.”

You frowned, letting out a light exhale as you pushed off the chair. You tucked your tablet between your arms, making your way towards the office door. Leon’s eyes quickly glance up at your backside while you make your way out the office, looking out the office windows as you give him a final look.

You’re gonna need about two pots of coffee and an ibuprofen to help you get through your shift. And the patience of an elementary school teacher.

You were halfway through sorting the mess of reports when the door of Leon’s office swings open. Everyone looks up as Agent Morris steps out, holding a tablet out towards Leon like a peace offering. Leon backs the shorter male out of the privacy of his office, cold eyes glued onto the agent.

“Sir, I don’t understand. I did what you—”

Leon didn’t even let him finish. “No,” he snapped, voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Fix it.”

Morris froze, looking around for some sort of support but everyone else looks away, suddenly all too focused on their own problems. “I just— I’m sor—”

“Stop speaking,” Leon interjected again. “Don’t come in here again until it’s perfect.”

The poor guy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. You’d seen Leon irritated before, but this was different, like he was barely holding himself together.

Morris tried again. “Sir, I can fix—”

The door slams shut as Leon retreats back into his office, awkward silence following after the public embarrassment. You scratched the back of your neck, hesitating for a moment before carefully approaching Morris.

“Hey, it’s okay. I can help you if you want?” Morris stares down at the tablet, looking up at you before shaking his head.

“No, he’s right. I’m such a fucking idiot.” You open your mouth to try to reassure him but Morris is already moving to sulk silently at his desk. You frown slightly, lingering by the office door before making your way towards your desk.

The small stack of broken reports Leon gave you were narrowed down to a measly two. You were almost done, and your shift wasn’t anywhere near close to ending. You tapped your fingers on your desk, looking over at Leon’s office before looking down at your computer. Even if you had finished, you knew he’d purposefully go out of his way to make your night longer.

The room felt bigger once Leon left. You gathered the scattered reports into a single stack, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Somewhere down the hall, a door shut, then more silence. Just the quick clacking of computers and the nervous coughs of workers choking on their own anxiety.

You pulled the second to last file toward you, flipping through the pages. Wrong timestamps. Missing signatures. Half‑finished statements. Could nobody write an accurate report?

You rubbed your temples. “Love this for me.”

You started sorting— separating what could be salvaged from what needed to be rewritten entirely. Your pen scratched across the paper, your tablet chiming as you cross‑checked data.

Every now and then, you heard movement from Leon’s office— the low thud of a drawer closing, the faint scrape of his chair. He was wound tight, still very much in that mood.

But he didn’t come out. And part of you was too scared to check in on him.

You were deep into the last report when you felt a strange, prickling awareness that someone was behind you. You didn’t hear footsteps. You didn’t hear the door or the scatter of remaining agents as they ducked out of the way.

But the air shifted.

You looked up slowly.

Leon was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the frame with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t cleared his throat. Hadn’t let his presence be known. He just stood there, watching you finish the last bit he assigned you.

“I’m almost done.” You reassured, looking down at the report and lifting it up in his general line of sight.

He didn’t answer you.

You awkwardly nodded to yourself, slowly turning to stare down at your hands and not at the heavy gaze of his eyes on you. “Check Morris’.”

You blinked slowly at your pen, pressing your lips together before turning to look up at Leon again. You gave him a small smile and a quick nod. “Yes sir.”

He stared at you for another long silent moment before humming at your response. He raised his eyebrows slightly before turning to disappear into his office again.

You stared at the back of his head until the door closed behind him before wrapping a hand around your neck. You let out an annoyed, strangled breath before pushing up out your seat. This was bordering on ridiculous.

When did you become the designated proofreader around here?

By the time you had finished helping Morris, Leon continued to pack more and more on you. It went from fixing other agents’ reports to checking surveillance footage to running background checks. Then it went from background checks to sorting field samples to sorting evidence logs to prepping gear inventory to unnecessarily cross checking intel from multiple departments.

Suffering, suffering and more suffering. Six hours of moving back and forth and hunching over in your desk until your mind meshed into a puddle of overstimulated goo. Leon hadn’t come to check in on you in the last thirty minutes, which was somewhat helpful because the eery silence of the office comforted the sharp pain behind your eyes.

You stacked the last corrected report on top of the pile and exhaled, rubbing the stiffness from your neck. The operations room was empty now, the clock on the wall ticking silently as you pushed your chair back. You were happy Leon was still holed up in his office, probably making another agent miserable as he types away on his computer complaining about whatever it was that upset him this time.

You gathered the neat pile of files from your desk, tucking them against your chest as you made your way down the short walk to his office. The dim lighting of the office poured out from the small gap under the door, it was quiet inside, but not enough to hear the faint scrape of a chair and the uneven rhythm of someone breathing harder than they should.

You hesitated, fixing the stack as you knocked lightly against the door carefully pushing it open with a tense hand. The office window blinds were drawn halfway, dark expanse of city and distant building lights seeping into the room as you stepped in. Leon was behind his desk, one hand braced against the inside of his thigh.

His breathing was shallow, chest heaving up and down as he quickly looked up at you. Your eyes slowly shifted down to the sight of his other hand wrapped tightly around his exposed cock, veins wrapping around the underside and leading towards the reddish-purple leaking tip. You practically squealed in surprise, dropping the files on the floor in a long fan as your hands snapped up to cover your eyes like you were the one in the wrong and not your hot, older boss who was jerking off knowing you were still in the building.

“Oh, god im so sorry!”

He let out a breathy chuckle, chair creaking slightly as you took large, speedy steps backwards. “You finished everything I gave you?”

“Uhm, yes.” Your hands are still (partially) covering your eyes, peeking through the gaps of your fingers to avoid bumping into a wall.

“Good, bring the files here.” You halt mid step, heels screeching against the tiled floor as you quickly shake your head.

“Oh, no that’s okay— I think I should just come back when you’re… not tied up.”

“Bring the files here.” He repeats shortly. You sigh shakily to yourself, slowly removing your hands over your eyes. You stare down at the floor, slowly inching back to the pile of files you dropped. You took a peek glance up at him, eyes darting to him fisting his cock with no embarrassment whatsoever.

You could feel the burn of his eyes on you as you crouched down to scoop the files, sloppily tapping them together. You quickly rushed towards the desk, avoiding his gaze as you set the files on the table.

“In my hand.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you slowly grabbed the pile.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Put the files in my hand.”

He extended the hand on his thigh out to you, the hand around his cock momentarily stopping as you stepped closer to him. You extended the stack to him as he gave you a small, smug grin. You took a blink down towards his hands, eyes darting from his right hand as he grabbed the papers from you then further down to his left hand. His cock jumped in his grip, a glossy drop of pre slipping from the slit.

“Staring’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

At his question, your attention quickly snapped up to his face, warmth rushing through your body. “Right. I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

You’re more than halfway towards the door when he lets out a soft groan. You hate how through the awkwardness of it all, you can feel the heat pooling in your gut. You look over at the windows, catching how he was very obviously watching you leave.

“Or you could stay.”

You’re a little too quick to hesitate by the door, hand hovering by the door handle before turning slightly to face him. He notices, letting out a little snicker. “Huh?”

“You could stay.”

You tap your heel against the floor, glancing between two different means of salvation. “Why? So we’d like— fuck or something?” The question slips out without you realizing. Leon raises an eyebrow at your forwardness, giving the base of his cock a firm squeeze.

“Or you could just watch me. No worries.”

You wipe your hands over your skirt, nibbling on your bottom lip as you (not so) hesitantly make your way back to the desk. “Will I get in trouble?”

His eyes follow your every movement, pushing off the chair and giving his hard cock a quick shove back into his pants. “For what?”

“Sleeping with you?” He sucks in a slow breath, as if the thought itself had him about ready to combust. He rubs his knuckles along the stubble on his jaw, pointing for you to sit on the desk in front of him.

“Not if anyone finds out.” You quietly shuffle towards the edge of the table, hopping up on the cold wood before nudging the papers back to give you some more room.

“But what if they do?” He approaches you quietly, nudging your thighs apart to place himself in between your spread legs.

“Do you plan on telling people that I fucked you?” You quickly shake your head, nervously watching as he oh so gently rolled your tight skirt up until the fabric awkwardly bunched around your hips. “Good. Could always just tell people that you came onto me.”

Your eyes widened at the way he so casually said it. “Wa— sorry, what?” He just gives you a slow smile, glancing down at your exposed panties before humming softly.

“Cute.” He hooks a finger under the red waistband, pulling back and letting it snap against your skin. His fingers slide down in between your thighs, thumb pressing against the rapidly damp patch. “And you’re already this wet? You’re practically throwing yourself at me.”

You watch him with a heavy gasp as he presses the pad of his finger up towards your clit, just hard enough that he could feel the faint throb through the fabric. “B-but I’m not.”

He looked up at you with a bored expression, rubbing slow circles against your clit, feeling the arousal seeping through the fabric and dampening his thumb. “No you’re not wet, or no you’re not throwing yourself at me?” He pulls his finger away from your underwear, examining the slight sheer glisten of your arousal. “Cause you were the one who mentioned having sex… and looks like you really need it.”

You frown slightly, hesitant to say anything. He wraps a hand around the side of your neck, giving you a grin as he inches you to lay down on your back. You shift against the coldness of the desk, blinking up at him as he nudged his pants back down to free his cock. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t give me that look,” he rests his hand on your jaw, giving you a quick little pat before squishing your cheeks. “I’m only joking.”

Your hum comes out a bit muffled at the squeeze of his fingers, letting out a little yelp as his hand moves down to tug you closer to him. He moves your underwear to the side, guiding your legs around his hips. Your hips jerk forward as he guides the head of his cock along your slit.

His fingers dig into your hips, forcing you still as he nudges the thickness of his tip against your entrance. Your pussy clenches around the slight probe, his hand inching up to rest on the curve of your waist as he slides in with ease thanks to the slick gathering. You grunt at the sudden tightness, your pussy stretching around him.

He grabbed the underside of your knee, pushing it up further against his hip, his eyes dropping to where your bodies joined. His cock twitched inside you, letting out a slight hiss before thrusting again. Harder.

Your body jolted with the quick stroke, hands scrambling for some balance as he continues to buck into you with short, blunt snaps. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, squeezing your waist gently. “Taking every inch like a good little thing.”

You’re unable to respond, each stroke of his hips forced out another whiny gasp. He lets out a strained laugh at the look on your face, papers crumpling beside you as each thrust makes you slide up against the hard surface of the table. Your eyebrows furrow together in pleasure, thighs aching as he lightly pulls you towards him to match the strides of his hips.

“S-slow down a bit, Leon.” He wraps his hand around your mouth, quickly shutting you up as he stares down at the sight of your pussy creaming a thick ring around him.

“But you’re taking me so well.” He changes the rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust makes your hips rock against him, your body moving with his. Discomfort burns into your lower back as he stretches you out around him, lower half burning at the position your legs were in.

He moves his hand away from your mouth, sliding his hand down your button shirt and pressing firmly against your stomach. “Who owns this pretty little cunt?”

Your eyes flutter closed, pleasure building through the pain and force of his movements. “You.” You manage to stammer out, voice breathless.

“Sorry what was that? What’s my name?” He leans forward, rolling his hips in a slow circle, the length of his cock dragging against your walls.

“L-Leon.” He pressed his thumb firmly against your clit, giving it a firm pinch to force a little squeal from you.

“Sir, I’m sorry.” You babbled breathlessly, pussy clenching around him as you slowly started to approach your orgasm.

He rubs a slow circle against your clit, drawing out a shaky moan from you. “Such a good girl. Letting your boss fuck you in his office like some cheap whore.” He watches you with dark, hungry eyes, taking in the way your body responds to his touch.

Your eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back on top of a crumpled paper. “Hey, hey. Look at me when I'm inside you,” he grips your jaw, giving your head a little shake to regain your attention. When you meet his gaze, he smirks. “Fuck, you look gorgeous.”

His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he bucks into you one final time, balls pressing against the groove of your ass. His body tenses, as he props one hand beside your hip, leaning forward as his cock throbbed and twitched inside you. Warm pulses of cum flood your inner walls, thick spurts of his seed leaving him as he breathes heavily.

“Shittt.” He groans softly, hips spasming slightly as the last spurts pump into you.

His hands are shaking slightly as he holds himself inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. When he finally pulls out, you feel the cool air hit your sensitive flesh, slick nut slowly seeping out of your fluttering pussy. He steps back, adjusting his clothes as you watch him with furrowed eyebrows. You slowly prop yourself up on your elbows, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his release inside you as you took deep, shaky breaths.

“But… I didn’t come.” You mumbled slightly, watching him as he peeked up from his belt, giving you a once over.

“Oh, you didn’t? Sorry.” He echoed back sarcastically with fake concern, buttoning his pants. You watched him with clear annoyance, rolling your eyes as you pushed off the table.

He watches you pull your skirt down over your ass, the fabric settling around your thighs as you fumble with your outfit. There's a moment of silence as he looks at you, taking in your disheveled state. You can feel the leak of him in your underwear, stumbling slightly on your heels.

An uncomfortable silence fills the office, room reeking of sex and anger. He turns back to his desk, already dismissing you from his mind as he cleans the mess of papers. The silent dismissal stings, but you take the obvious hint and make your way to the door.