#Immediate HR Executive Jobs

[9kmovies-biz]

HR Executive

Job Description HiWe are looking for immediate joiners as following position. Position: HR Executive/Sir. Executive Experience: 3 to 4 Years in NBFC/MFI or Banking as a recruitment.Qualification: Any Graduation/MSW/MBA-HRSalary: Based on previous Salary Location: Hebbala Bangalore. We Preferred immediate joiners..  #Executive

[masadir99services]

We are #hiring HR Recruiter. Join us now.

Email your resume to: cv@masadirservices.com

Visit - www.masadirservices.com

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[fayes-fics]

A Job Well Done

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Quickie, office sex after being reunited.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, quickie vaginal sex, office sex, semi-public sex, workplace sex, exhibitionism.

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors Note: Request fill for Anon (ask HERE) who wanted quickie office sex with Benedict. This is lighthearted, almost crack in places tbh. Unbetaed. Thanks to my discord peeps for help with some ideas for this one. Enjoy <3

You barely make it through the door into the fancy corner office before clothing is wrenched open, both so desperate. You’ve been away on a business trip for two weeks, but it feels like two months. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” his words hiss on your lips as your kisses land wet and hot, open mouths just taking from each other.

“I missed you too,” you can barely gasp, fighting off your knickers under your skirt.

“Shouldn’t we wait until we can go to one of our places after work?” he checks.

“No, here,” you insist and back yourself against the wall, pulling him by the open fly right into you, moaning at the crush of his chest against yours.

“Really?” he sounds disbelieving, even as you roughly yank down the front of his underwear and shimmy it down his hips along with his trousers.

“Yes, really. Just make it quick,” you confirm, wiggling your skirt up around your waist, revelling in his groan as you grab his cock and pump it in your hand, standing on tiptoe to line him up with your aching pussy. 

He splutters the most adorable noise as his hot tip slides inside you, and you groan loudly in his ear.

“Say you are going to fuck me til I can't walk straight,” you command through gritted teeth.

“Okay… that,” he stumbles, still slightly stunned by the speed and ferocity this is happening at.

“Say it!” you demand.

“You already did!”

You grab his face and make him look into your eyes. “Ben. I need you to say the filthiest things to me. I'm so horny, please; don't be embarrassed.”

“We are at work! Isn't it enough we are doing this in full view of London and its recently arrived visitors!?” his voice slightly incredulous, gesturing vaguely at the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the crowds pouring out of St Pancras International a couple of storeys below.

“The glass is mostly reflective; they can probably barely see us,” you dismiss, hands grabbing his bottom and sinking fully onto his cock. “Fuck yesssss!” you hiss, eyes rolling back at the sheer delight of being so filled again.

“Is this revenge?” he exhales raggedly, a hand heavy on your hip as he adjusts to your heated cling. “Fucking in Ant’s office? Cos your PA told you he fucked Kate in yours?”

“Maybe,” you look askance, feeling called out but still pushing up onto tiptoes and sinking back down again as he groans with you.

His face morphs into a crooked grin, and his tone changes. “Well, why didn't you say before?” his voice turning into a velvet rumble. 

You gasp as he grabs one of your legs, hooks it over his arm and proceeds to take control just as you wanted. You moan your appreciation as he immediately starts to slam into you. You make a quick mental note that family oneupmanship is apparently an excellent motivator for him before you lose all capacity for thought.

If HR ever finds out about this, an executive fucking a junior colleague, there will probably be trouble—so it's a good thing HR reports to you. You co-founded this business with Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and have run it successfully together for the last five years. Three months ago, Anthony brought his younger brother into the firm in a decidedly nepotistic hire of in-house graphic designer after his art business stalled. You fought Anthony about the optics of it until about three seconds after you clapped eyes on one Benedict Bridgerton. And then, well, you agreed your company definitely needs someone to design PowerPoint templates or whatever he does. You resisted flirting with him for precisely two weeks, just enjoying his arse walking up and down the corridors every day doing fuck knows what.

But then it was the work party, and honestly, who can be held responsible when Anthony manages to score a whisky sponsorship? You'd be a lousy co-founder if you didn't indulge, frankly. And so you did. And you proceeded to flirt outrageously until Benedict took you up to the roof terrace and had you screaming at the London skyline. Since then, well, you've been together at every opportunity. It's especially thrilling that Anthony doesn't have a damn clue about it, either.

“I'm going to fuck you til you can't walk straight,” he growls, just as you wanted, slamming into you so hard your bra strap catches on the textured wall through your shirt.

“Oh fuck yes,” you mewl your appreciation, tipping forward to bite his neck, not entirely gently, until he hisses and moves faster.

Then, as if he can read your mind, still buried inside you, he suddenly picks you up, spins around, and almost throws you down onto Ant’s glass desk, never leaving your body.

“Oh, you fucking genius,” you compliment, grabbing his shirt greedily and pulling him on top of you, uncaring that you are sending Ant’s stationery and fancy tchotchkes flying. Your mouths meet in an artless, hot-breathed kiss, and then he starts to move again, wrapping your legs around his hips and standing up to drive into you hard.

You start to yell his name and all the praise you can think of, knowing Ant’s office is soundproofed like yours. His cock drags all the places inside that turn off your brain, not capable of anything but chasing more and now and more again. 

“Not so sure the glass is particularly reflective, by the way,” he states almost casually as he keeps pounding into you. “Pretty sure we are drawing a crowd.”

“Then fuck me really good,” is your only breathy response, unwilling to tip your head back and look down at the people below. At least at this angle, they shouldn’t be able to see his cock ploughing into you. And everything else is covered by clothing… mostly. You could just be having a very vigorous wrestling match. Kind of.

“Exhibitionist, hmm?” he hums, leaning over you and kissing down your neck.

“You’re the one who took me on the roof terrace our first time,” you point out, closing your eyes and enjoying the slide of his warm lips on your skin as he thrusts so deep you swear you’ll still feel it tomorrow.

“Guilty as charged,” he murmurs, bemused, a little out of breath now, his tongue lathing hot on your throat.

Then, there’s no talking for a while as you skate closer to your peaks. Desperate hands grab bodies and table edges, growling and moans, hot wet kisses, the sturdy glass desk withstanding his harsh strokes even as your whole body rolls on the surface. 

Then, with a dangerous smirk, he winds a hand between your bodies and flicks his thumb against your clit, and you scream. It’s the little extra sensation you need to break, calling his name, your nails scratching down his clothes, biceps clinging to him as your pussy clenches hard around him, floating somewhere on a blissful cloud, eyes screwed shut, as he growls at your vice-like grip on his cock. A few artless thrusts, and then he is stilling, groaning loudly in your ear and collapsing on top of you as he spills inside.

After a few panted moments, you feel yourself returning to the room, the power of speech returning.

“Oh god, that was just what I needed,” you huff, sated, a fuzzy, languid, bone-deep satisfaction only he can seem to provide. 

“You are welcome, boss,” he sasses with a playful smirk.

“You don’t report to me,” you point out, swatting his arm gently.

“Shame… I think I’d get an excellent review and a hefty raise if I did,” he gloats a little, dropping a quick kiss on your lips.

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” you volley back, pushing him off your body and standing up, shuffling your skirt back down your legs. 

You feel a little unsteady in your gait as you dip down to collect your underwear from the floor.

“There are, however, two things you can do for me?” you smile as he rezips.

“Anything…” 

“Tidy your brother's desk,” you nod towards the mess. He rolls his eyes, accepting his fate, seeing as it was his decision to throw you upon it.

“And?” He prompts you for the second thing as you make final adjustments to your appearance.

“Be naked in my bed by the time I get home,” you breeze as you reach for the office door handle. “Feel free to tie yourself spread eagle to the bedposts if you’re feeling adventurous,” you end with a wink.

“How exactly am I supposed to do that with only one set of hands?” you hear him call after you as the door closes behind you.

With a huge grin, you saunter down the corridor, phone in hand, already texting him a reply.

Y/N: You’ll figure it out. You’re the artist, after all.

BB: I’m a landscape painting artist, not an escape artist.

Y/N: potayto, potatoh…

BB: I’m getting a round of applause from what looks like a stag do outside, by the way…

Y/N: See? There’s your glowing performance review. 

BB: … 🤷‍♂️

Y/N: 😘

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[originalfatfiction]

Andy's Assistant

“Hello, excuse me.” There was a gentle rapping at my office door that caused me to look up from my computer. “Are you Andrew Reynolds?” I looked at a young guy obviously in his early twenties. He smiled cheerily as he stood in the doorway, waiting for my response. His smile was gorgeous, his teeth immaculate.

“Yes, I’m Andrew Reynolds,” I replied. “How can I help you?” He smiled again before he continued, walking a little further into my office. 

“Well, the receptionist at the desk in the waiting area said it would be okay if I came on back.” I nodded, allowing him to continue. “My name is Parker Jeong and I applied for the job as your assistant. We had the interview over the phone early last week. I was in the process of moving to the area.”

“Oh, yes, I remember.” Recent college grad. Moving from California. Could start working immediately.

“I know that you mentioned wanting to meet in person before finalizing my employment.” He smiled again, and even with the wholesome smile on his face, I could see in his eyes that he was nervous. He had beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes, and he did his best to hold my gaze. He toyed anxiously with the crisp sheet of paper in his hand, which I assumed was a hard copy of his resumé. He was probably scared I wouldn’t want to hire him after all. Imagine moving across the country for a job only to be told the position had already been filled.

“I know you just graduated a few months ago,” I verbalized. “But from what I remember you telling me during our phone conversation and what I saw on the resumé you emailed over, you’re more than qualified to work as an administrative assistant.”  

“Thank you, sir. I brought a hard copy of my resumé with me,” he said.

“Let me take another look.” He walked closer to my desk and handed it to me. I looked it over, recalling most of the standout credentials. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

Parker had majored in marketing with a minor in graphic design. He’d spent his final semester involved in a mentorship program for Asian-Americans interested in working in advertising. He graduated magna cum laude. Hell, he was overqualified for this position. 

“You’re sure you want this job?” I asked. “You could definitely get a position as a copywriter at another agency.” 

“Hathaway and Associates is the best agency in the entire Midwest. I’ve dreamed of working here since I decided I wanted to go into advertising. The commercials you all put out for Nike were astonishing.” The kid had done his research. 

“What about those commercials did you like so much?” 

“They had this sense of authenticity that I don’t think we see much of anymore. Those ads gave me the courage to join a gym.” I wondered what he’d think if he knew the portly executive in front of him had come up with the concept that inspired his fitness journey. 

“I want more for my career, yes, but I don’t plan on shirking my responsibilities as your assistant. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of, sir.”  

I was a pretty good judge of character, and I didn’t think Parker would let me down. I liked his honesty. It was refreshing. My previous assistants had never been my choice, often young adults that had some sort of connection to the other executives at the agency. “Well, I look forward to working with you.”

“I look forward to working with you too,” he replied, reaching out to shake my hand. I stood, and his eyes traveled upwards to my face. Maybe he couldn’t tell I was so tall behind my desk, but it seemed like he was surprised by my size. I tended to have this effect on people. I grabbed his hand, and we shook to seal the deal of his hiring.

“Head to human resources and get your paperwork finalized. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning. We start at nine.” He thanked me again, clutching his over-the-shoulder bag as he left my office. I bet he skipped down the hallway all the way to HR.

I knew he’d work hard. That was certain. But when it came to how sexy he was, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I assumed Parker was gay, and he was definitely a little snack I could see myself sinking my teeth into, but I had to remind myself that I was in a position of power over him. Even if I wanted to see what he was working with underneath his exquisitely tailored slacks, flirting with him was a no-go. And besides, that little gym bunny probably had no interest in a grizzly bear like me.

The next morning, I got to work a little early and Parker was sitting at his station right outside of my office. He had a dozen donuts on his desk and two coffees, one much larger than the other.

“Hello Mr. Reynolds,” he said. “Please let me know what I can do to help you this morning.” He handed me the larger coffee and a napkin before smoothly opening the box of donuts. I recognized them immediately. They were from a trendy new spot that had opened a few months ago. They specialized in unique flavors, like maple-bacon and Fruity Pebbles.

“You sure know how to make an impression.” 

“I told you that I’d do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of.” I grabbed one of the donuts, knowing I’d be coming back out for another within the next fifteen minutes.

“Let me get situated and I’ll let you know what you can do for me.”

“Yes sir.”

I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me with all this “Mr. Reynolds” and “Yes sir” business. My last assistant was a statuesque redhead who never tried to go above and beyond the requirements of her position. Which was fine, I got it. She did what she was paid for. But sometimes I think she messed things up on purpose so I wouldn’t give her more work to do. I barely got a hello from her in the morning, and she left promptly at five without so much as a farewell. 

I shuffled into my office, tossing my bag on one of the chairs opposite my desk. I bit into the donut, savoring its sweetness. It tasted like a Biscoff cookie, and I was almost certain the glaze was made from cookie butter. I took a slightly larger bite before shoving the rest of the pastry into my awaiting mouth. That donut never stood a chance. I already wanted another, but I needed to show some self-restraint. I couldn’t let Parker know I spent my working hours inhaling food three minutes into his first day.

About ten minutes later, Parker was knocking at my door, box of donuts in hand.

“We’re celebrating today, Mr. Reynolds,” he said, walking towards my desk. “I’ve already had two of these. I’m going to leave the box with you so you don’t have to worry about coming back for more.”

“Well, uh, you don’t want to offer them to some of the other assistants?”

“No, sir,” he said, coyly setting the box to the left of me at my L-shaped desk. “This is for me and you, sir.”

Damn did Parker know the way to a big man’s heart. Having the box within arm’s reach, I finished the rest of that dozen by noon.

The donuts were one thing, but Parker was constantly supplying me with snacks throughout the day. He’d brought me homemade blueberry muffins and brown butter chocolate chip cookies. He’d made me buttery croissants, decadent fudge brownies, and Oreo cheesecake bites. I wondered if he was making his way through a cookbook.

“It’s just a hobby,” he said offhandedly when I mentioned he didn’t have to bring me so many treats. “I guess I got carried away.”

“You just always bring so much. I hope you know I’m not expecting you to bring something every single day. I don’t want you to feel put out.”

“It’s just how I unwind,” he said. “Before I moved here, I had three roommates. Now that I live alone, I don’t have anyone else to share them with. I’m really sorry for assuming you wanted them.”

“Whoa!” I interjected. “I never said I didn’t want them.” This made him laugh. I didn’t mind the baked goods. I woke up salivating thinking about what new thing he’d have for me to munch on, but it was never just a sampling of his work. The portions were huge. When he showed up with his reusable containers, it always brought to mind something that would normally be placed in the breakroom for everyone in the office to sample—like a baker’s dozen of white chocolate raspberry mini-Bundt cakes or an entire pan of M&M Rice Krispie Treats.

The baked goods were just the cherry on top of having an excellent assistant. He was definitely the best one I’d ever had, a really fast learner for sure, but his competence as an office worker was second to his ability to cater to my often insatiable hunger. A month of Parker’s special treatment was damaging to my waistline. Being catered to by him turned me on beyond belief, and it was something new for me. In my past relationships, my love of food was never celebrated. Parker’s eyes seemed to light up when I munched on whatever he brought me. “It’s not too chocolatey?” he’d asked, pushing another confection my way. It was never too chocolatey. It was always perfect, just like him.

He greeted me with baked goods each morning and made sure to say goodbye before heading out every evening, carrying with him an empty Tupperware container or pie dish. Aside from the extra thousand-plus calories a day I was inhaling from his delicious goodies, he always made sure to have lunch delivered for me.

He talked to me more than any of my other assistants ever had. Almost like he was trying to get to know me on a more personal level. It had me looking forward to going to work, a feeling I hadn’t had in quite a while. It might have been unintentional, but Parker’s interest, even if it was just platonic, was boosting my ego. My old assistants barely ever looked in my direction, but this guy wanted to know what my favorite movies were and what I liked to do for fun. This attention from him was electrifying. My brain knew being this infatuated with him was no good, but my heart (and my stomach) didn’t care.

Even now, none of the interns or other assistants ever talked to me unless absolutely necessary. That didn’t mean I wasn’t a topic of conversation. They all definitely talked about me. I was big, yes. But I also had a resting serious face. Combined with my intimidating frame, they thought of me as some sort of beast. I once made an intern cry during a pitch meeting because I “looked like I was going to bite her head off.” I now made more of an effort to smile, even when there was no reason to. I also tried to ignore the implications of this, considering I was one of four black men on staff.

To the other execs, I was more of the office joke. I was younger than most of them by fifteen years, so they viewed me as some sort of kid brother. It was always a crack here or a joke there. When I landed the Nike account they all thought it was the funniest thing to ever happen in the history of the world.

“Andy?” one of them had guffawed, barely able to get out what he wanted to say. “When was the last time you saw the inside of a gym? And Nike went with your pitch?”  

But it was something I had become accustomed to; all throughout school I was the big guy people joked about or avoided. Adults always thought I was with the wrong group of kids in elementary school because I was a head taller than the other boys. As if I wasn’t already too big, I had another growth spurt the summer before freshman year of high school. At fourteen my dad began teaching me how to lift weights. My body developed rapidly, and it took me a long time to get comfortable with those changes. By the time I was eighteen, I was larger than my father, who was by no means a small man. My weight sort of leveled out in my early twenties, and I graduated college at my current height and 270 pounds.

Joining the workforce was frightening, yet liberating. I had disposable income and the ability to make my own life decisions. I began working where I was currently employed as a copywriter two months after getting my degree. Lots of late nights and hard work helped me rise in the ranks. I was promoted to the executive level three years ago, and had run through five assistants in that time. I was now thirty-two, unmarried, and a little stifled.

I spent most of my time working. I hadn’t had a hookup in literal years, and to be frank, I didn’t see one happening in the near future. I used to be able to lean into being the big, burly guy who’d had one too many beers. I walked the line between dad-bod and straight-up fat guy for as long as I could before I was promoted. Being an executive meant a lot more responsibility and a lot less free time. My tri-weekly lifting sessions were now a thing of the past. I thought I could stand to lose a few pounds then, but now I was over 350 pounds.

Having Parker as my assistant only exacerbated my feelings of loneliness (and horniness). He probably didn’t even know I was gay and very much into his tight slacks and obedient disposition. The last month had been amazing, yet torturous.

“I have your forms, Mr. Reynolds.”

I told him he could call me Andy, or even just Andrew, but he never did. It was about lunch time and I was getting a bit restless. Maybe I’d run off my other assistants with my multiple food orders throughout the day. I seemed to simply exist in a state of hunger. I was also slightly convinced I couldn’t do my best work on an empty stomach.

I looked at Parker standing in front of me. His dark brown hair was short and very stylish. My hair was cut in a neat fade and my facial hair was thick. I’d kept a standing appointment with my barber every Sunday morning at ten for the last five years.

“Thank you,” I said, holding out my hand to take the manila folder that contained the forms from him. Like some cheesy porno with ridiculous circumstances to set up a sexual scenario, the folder fell through my fingers, all the papers scattering on my office floor.

“Oh, sorry!” he exclaimed. “That’s my bad.” He bent over to pick up the documents, noticing there were more papers to gather than he first realized. He then got on his knees in front of my desk and once again I got to take in his beautiful ass. The fabric of his slacks pulled tight against his butt. His back was slightly arched, as if advertising himself to me. What I wouldn’t give to be bucking my hips behind him. I thought about fucking him constantly, and it had become an obsession. I’d definitely gotten the vibe that he was gay, but I had some serious doubts he’d ever want to hook up with me. “Here you go,” he said, hopping to his feet and handing me the papers.

Almost like it was trying to embarrass me and purposely kill my arousal, my stomach growled.

“Sorry,” I said. I couldn’t believe how hot my face got. My stomach growling was only going to draw attention to the fact that I was twice his size. The portion of goodies I received from Parker at the start of the day was on the smaller side, so that hadn’t helped to dull my hunger pains.

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “It’s lunchtime.” I felt my face go hot once more.

“Yeah, I guess I am kind of hungry.”

“You’re a pretty big guy. I get it.” He fidgeted with one of the buttons on his dress shirt. “Do you, maybe, want to take lunch with me today?” 

“I’ve never eaten with one of my assistants before,” I said, in disbelief he wanted to spend time with me outside of the office.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can just pick something up for you if you’d prefer—”

I stood quickly, not wanting to pass up any opportunity to talk to him about topics not related to copies or signatures or meetings. My gut shook a bit with the momentum. The buttons had given me a difficult time when getting dressed, and I needed to get some new shirts.

“I’m free for lunch,” I exclaimed. “We can go now.”

There were a ton of restaurants in the downtown area. I asked what he wanted to eat and he deferred to me, claiming he wanted me to get whatever I was craving. If I were able to get whatever I was craving, it would be the Parker Jeong meal, extra sauce. He’d probably think that was so cringe. I sighed to myself.

“There’s this place called The Coop,” I said, giving my second choice for lunch. “They serve Nashville style hot chicken.”

At the restaurant he got a normal sized portion of food for a normal sized person, and I wanted to be good, but I needed to replace the lust I was feeling with something else, and that something else was two Nashville hot chicken sandwiches, a large fry, baked beans, coleslaw, and a strawberry mint frozen lemonade.

He didn’t even bat an eye, offering to pick up our trays while I waited at the table. I knew he was just being nice to me because I was his boss. I’d paid for the food, so he was probably just still in assistant mode.

“Order up,” he said, returning to where we sat, setting my overstuffed tray in front of me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking in his tray with three tenders and a medium fry.

“Do you like to eat here a lot?” he asked, sipping from his unsweetened iced tea. Coming from someone else, that would’ve felt like a jab, but from him it just felt conversational.

“I do like this place a lot. Especially for the downtown area. The portions aren’t skimpy and it tastes pretty good too.”

“What other places do you like?”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” I said, digging into my first sandwich. “There’s Tripp’s for seafood, Curry House for Indian, Miss Janie’s for BBQ, oh yeah—Sub Daddy has these huge hoagies. Best in the city. And they’re open late!”

“Sub Daddy?” he laughed. “What kind of name is that?”

“Well, maybe they’re leaning into the innuendo?”

“Hmm, maybe,” he said, looking down at his tenders. “We’ll have to eat there together soon, though Dom Daddies are actually more my speed.”

Was that directed towards me? There was no chance. Absolutely no way. He wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t coming on to me. But still—even if his comment meant nothing, I could feel myself getting hard. 

I took another big bite of my sandwich, trying not to fuck things up. If I lost another assistant they’d probably open an investigation or something to figure out what I did to keep running them off.

“So, um, how’s your food?” I asked, deflecting. 

The vibes never quite got back on track after that. I was too wound up and way too invested in my food. If my inability to hold conversation wasn’t enough to scare him off, me stuffing my face for fifteen minutes straight surely did the job.

We made our way back to the office and finished up for the day. It was a little after five when Parker peeked his head into my office. 

“Have a good night, Mr. Reynolds.” He hesitated for a moment. “Oh, and thanks for lunch.” 

“No problem. I enjoyed your company.” I did enjoy his company. Even with how poorly I felt things went, it was nice being out in public with him. I had to remind myself it wasn’t a date and only lunch between colleagues.

“About the joke I made,” he started, stepping completely into my office and closing the door. “I am so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon.”

“Don’t even sweat it,” I said, knowing I sent him into this spiral because I was now inept at talking to cute men. Things had been so much easier ten years ago.

“I am gay,” he continued. “I know some people feel a type of way about that sort of thing. I just don’t want it to ruin our relationship.”

“You don’t need to disclose your sexual orientation, there are policies in place to protect people from discrimination in the workplace and I’d never treat you poorly because of something like that because—”

“Because you’re a really good boss, I know. I’m sorry I even thought you’d treat me differently. It’s just—the real world is way different than a college campus.”

I was about to come out to him. What did I even think was going to happen? Were we going to fuck, me taking control as his sought after Dom Daddy? I was being ridiculous. Of course he was concerned about his career. 

“Are you going to be much longer?” he asked.

“Yeah, I have to catch up on some work for that supercenter presentation next week.” He started to take off his jacket. “No need to do that, Parker.”

“I can help,” he said. 

“No, that’s okay. Don’t ruin your evening,” I said, still feeling embarrassed by this whole debacle. I could use his help. The copy room was unbearably small and I didn’t want to have to keep squeezing in and out of there. 

“But if you need my help, I can help.” He smiled. “It’s my job. I’m your assistant.” 

I was glad he wanted to help me. He was truly the best assistant I‘d ever had and not just because he had such a fantastic ass. I didn’t want to come across as demanding or difficult to work with, but selfishly, I wanted to spend more time with him.

“Well, okay,” I relented. “As long as you’re free.” 

“I’ll order us something from Sub Daddy,” he said, heading back out to his station. “It’s been hours since lunch. You can’t focus on an empty stomach.”

After that, we worked late a lot, and went to lunch together even more often. He was more than willing to try new restaurants with me, always encouraging me to order as much as I wanted. He always offered to treat me, but I never let him. What sense did that make? He only ever ate a fourth of what I did.

His personality was pleasant, which didn’t make it easier for me to stifle my crush on him. Who wouldn’t be into him? He was smart, hardworking, fun, and considerate. He knew how to bake and never made me feel bad about eating what I wanted. I had gotten into the habit of eating more and more when I was around him. I hardly noticed until all the food was gone. I found myself to be less nervous when I was stuffing my face. It felt less likely that I’d say something dumb. When I was 70 pounds lighter, I was way more willing to flirt or say something corny to make a guy laugh. But now I felt like everything I said or did seemed desperate. And so instead of talking, I stuffed my face. In the two months Parker had been working with me, I’d gained ten pounds.

On our late nights, I always told him he could leave but he never did. Not once.

That was enough to keep my delusional fantasies about him going.

He started mentioning clubs and bars, asking if I’d ever want to go with. I figured it was just a gesture, and I was way too rusty to ever take him up on the offer, but maybe one day I could. The more I got to know him, the more I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in me too.

My pants had gotten even tighter; I needed some new ones. My thighs filled them out completely and my ass was getting pretty big too. I’d never gotten around to getting those new shirts, and now I needed new pants. I had to face it. I was fat, and with my habits, I was just going to keep getting fatter.

It was late October, and one of the other execs was celebrating his fiftieth. His assistant and a few of the interns had organized a little office party for him after lunch. I’d already eaten these really delicious chocolate covered pretzel sticks Parker made me and something he’d picked up for me from The Coop for lunch.

Everyone filed into our largest conference room. There were a few toasts and it was a decent time overall. Then the cake was revealed. It was from a nice bakery near our office that people always used when doing festive things like this. 

It was time to admit to myself that I loved sweets, and with Parker’s kind gestures, I had tried tons of things I’d never eaten before.

I moseyed on over to the cake, planning to only have a piece. Just enough to be polite to the planning committee. But it was delicious. It was a strawberry lemon layer cake, the perfect marriage between tart and sweet flavors. The lemon cake layers were separated by a delightful strawberry compote (a term I’d learned from Parker), which was also incorporated into the rich buttercream frosting. 

By the time I finished my (substantial) piece, Parker discreetly replaced my empty plate with another that had an even larger slice. He did this three more times while we mingled with others from the office. I must have ended up having a third of that cake to myself. 

Returning to my office after the celebration gave me time to reflect. I tried to get some work done, but it was hard to focus, especially with the buttons on my yet to be replaced shirt and slacks straining.

What was Parker trying to do? Was he simply being an attentive assistant or was he subtly making fun of me? Or maybe I was just too in my head and he was attracted to me? He’d never done or said anything that alluded to disliking me because of my size. But that didn’t mean he was attracted to me because of it either. I looped through variations of the same arguments over and over.

I must’ve overanalyzed those different scenarios for a good fifteen minutes before shifting my focus back to work. I’d already sent Parker to the art department to collect some mock-ups we’d need, but I couldn’t move forward in my current task without making some photocopies. 

I was going to have to face the dreaded copy room.

Minutes later, I stood outside of the copy room. I paused momentarily to psych myself up before proceeding. The room was not spacious to begin with, but with multiple built-in cabinets full of office supplies on one wall and a line of photocopiers on the other, the only space for a person to move was a narrow strip of floor down the middle of the room. I walked up the aisle to one of the machines in the center of the room.

So far, so good. I made one of my copies, and proceeded to the next. Still good. I moved on to my last document. That’s when the machine jammed.

“Fuck me,” I said to myself, sighing. I took a step back, my ass already brushing against a cabinet. I leaned forward, opening the side panel and noticing the jammed paper immediately. This would be an easy fix, thankfully. I was bending my knees slightly, and I could feel the fabric of my slacks pulling tight against my beefy behind. It might have just been my anxiety, but I swear I could feel the stitch on the rise of my pants stretching to its limit. I made a mental note to myself that at this point some new items in my wardrobe were necessary, not optional.

I removed the jammed paper, made my last copy, and swiftly made my exit from that claustrophobic space. Bull in a china shop, meet Andrew Reynolds in the copy room. 

I paused for a moment, as I could hear Parker’s voice.

“I really should be getting back.”

“Come on, Parker. You can’t actually like working with Andy.” I backpedaled before I could be seen. It was Antoinette, one of the office gossips. She’d been close with my previous administrative assistant.

“Yeah, I do,” Parker said, sounding somewhat bothered. “He’s really very nice. And super smart.” Whoa. He was actually sticking up for me. I could hardly believe it.

“You’re gay, right?”

What a segue. Antoinette was likely upset he wasn’t down to badmouth me, ready to move the conversation in a direction she found more interesting.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” he said, his tone slightly more annoyed. 

“You don’t like him, do you?” Antoinette pushed. “Because you’re probably barking up the wrong tree with that one. He’s never been with anyone since I started here, and it’s been seven years.”

“Mr. Reynolds might just be a private person. He could have a wife and kids at home. You don’t know.” At this, she laughed.

“I highly doubt that.” Parker likely made a face, as she then said, “Now don’t give me that look. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I hadn’t realized how much you looked up to Andy.” She couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic.

“Like I said,” he reiterated. “I really should be getting back.”

“Okay, wait. I only bring it up because there’s someone else in the office who is interested in you.” She sounded like some sort of matchmaker.

“Toni, please.” He sounded even more irritated. “I don’t think my love life is any of your business, and I don’t need you to hook me up with anyone.”

“Mark is the one that wanted me to talk to you. He really likes you,” Antoinette continued. Mark was a copywriter that had started two or three years after I did. He’d never gotten over the fact that I’d been promoted and he hadn’t.

“I’m flattered, truly,” Parker replied. “But please tell him I’m not interested.”

“Fine, but here’s his card anyway.” There was a slight pause. “But you’ve got to be real with me. Working with Andy must be hard. I heard from his last assistant that he was so demanding, and not about work matters. She spent most of her time placing food orders and picking up his take-out.” She laughed. “Did you see all that cake he ate at Dave’s party this afternoon? That’s why he’s not with somebody. Who wants to date a pig?” I felt my stomach tighten in embarrassment.

“Watch how you speak about my boss,” Parker responded. “This conversation is over.”

“Fine, I swear—” I could hear her heels clicking on the linoleum of the hallway as she walked away from the corner in which they’d been speaking. I could then hear Parker’s steps as he headed towards the copy room. 

I froze.

What could I do? There was nowhere to hide. I was in the world’s smallest copy room, and even if there was somewhere to hide, there was no way I’d fit into that hiding spot. I just stood there, ready to face the awkwardness. He turned the corner quickly, bumping into my stomach.

He stumbled back, almost losing his balance. He dropped all the samples from the art department. I could feel that tight feeling in my stomach again, my mouth going dry. He must have known I was listening.

“Mr. Reynolds?” he mused. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” He knelt down and started picking up the papers.

“No apologies, please. It’s my fault.” 

I bent over quickly to help him and there was a loud ripping sound. The same seam in my pants that had worried me moments before gave way. I could tell immediately that my pants had split down the back.

I stood up straight immediately. I could feel his eyes on my face. 

“Andrew,” he said softly. 

No, not the pity. I could feel it coming, and that would make me feel worse. I pushed past him, leaving him alone in that tiny room to gather the scattered papers. I waddled awkwardly back to my office to grab my jacket. I didn’t want the pants to rip anymore than they already had. I needed to get some new slacks. 

Taking a moment, I looked in the mirror on the back of my office door. My blue button up shirt didn’t hide my large, round belly. I’d really let things get bad these last few months. I had completely lost all restraint since meeting Parker. I was happy-eating when he brought me his baked goods. I was nervous-eating when we went out to lunch together. I was sad-eating at home when I thought about how much it sucked to have unrequited feelings. 

My love handles sloped away from my torso down over the side of my pants. My pants looked like they’d been painted on my meaty thighs. When did my face get so round? If I shaved my beard how many chins would I find? More than the one I remembered when I started working here ten years ago? I had once had a square jaw, but I knew now it would be backed by a second chin, with a new layer of fat likely being formed behind that. My round cheeks made my eyes look smaller than they were in my youth. I even had a light dabbling of sweat on my forehead from my dash back into my office.

“Mr. Reynolds?” Parker called gently as he knocked at my door. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” I said, speaking slowly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he inquired. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I need to head out for an errand, so please make sure you reschedule the rest of my meetings this afternoon.” 

“Do you need to go shopping?” he asked. 

I could have leaped from my office window—and we were on the twentieth floor. Any chance of ever being with Parker was surely ruined. I needed to rip off the Band-Aid and get this interaction over with. I opened my office door. 

“I could help you pick some things out,” he suggested. “I am your assistant. And I know it’s a stereotype, but I have a pretty good fashion sense.” He was trying so hard to be nice to me. 

“This is my problem.” I was still speaking slowly, forcing the words out in a way that likely came off as short. “This is a personal matter, not something to do with work.”

He didn’t say anything. He turned and walked over to his desk, rummaging in one of the drawers. He held a tiny sewing kit in his hands as he strode back over to where I stood. He placed his hand on my stomach, pushing me back into the office before closing the door.

“I understand you would rather shop alone, but I’m not going to let my boss walk around with a split in his pants.” What was he expecting me to do? Strip? There was no way.

“Parker—”

“We don’t have to make a big deal out of this, sir,” he said. “Just take off your pants and hand them here. I can mend them in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Really, that’s not necessary.”

He just stood there, looking at me expectantly. I didn’t want to walk around exposed until I could get to a clothing store. It would only take him fifteen minutes. I took a deep breath and unbuckled my belt. It was a brown leather material that matched my loafers, which I’d slid out of before shimmying out of my too-tight navy slacks.

I could see myself in the mirror behind my office door again. Here I was in my boxer briefs, Parker standing right in front of me, and it wasn’t a scenario I’d previously imagined. He crouched down in front of me, grabbing the pants so I wouldn’t have to bend over.

He inspected the rip for a moment. “This is perfect. It’s not frayed or anything.”

“You really think you can fix them?”

“A temporary fix, yes.” He walked towards one of the extra chairs in my office and had a seat. Things were silent for a few minutes as he threaded the needle and got started on the repair. I’d taken a seat behind my desk and watched him work.

His skin was so smooth, his lips kissably full, his nose a little large for his face.

“I can see why these split,” he said, not looking up from his work. His words abruptly hit me and filled the silence in a way that sat heavy on my mind.

“Me too.” He still hadn’t looked up at me. He just continued mending my pants. 

“I knew I needed new ones, and I—” The words got caught in my throat. I was already embarrassed, so maybe it was time for me to just speak honestly, but speaking honestly kind of felt like admitting defeat. It felt like I was giving up on taking things in an intimate direction with Parker. “I’ve been putting it off. They probably could’ve held on a bit longer, but I’ve put on some weight recently.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Guys like you don’t get it. You could have anyone you wanted.”

“What if I wanted you, Andrew?”

He finally looked up from his work. I must’ve been looking at him stone faced, because his bravado faltered almost immediately.

“Mr. Reynolds—I’m so sorry. That was out of line.”

Parker’s confession allowed me to push past that voice in my head that explained away all the things he did as platonic. He liked me. He wanted me. He’d said so himself.

Before the self-doubt set in, I had to shoot my shot. I’d sulk about my split pants late at night years from now, but right at this moment I refused to return to that negative place. He wanted a Dom Daddy, and that was a role I was more than willing to play.

“What if I told you I wanted to fuck you right now?” His face reddened considerably. I’d never seen him so worked up before, and that made me more confident. “Since the day I hired you, I’ve thought about what it’d feel like to be inside of that sweet ass.”

“Sir—”

“C’mere,” I said in a low voice. He stood, placing my slacks in the seat he’d gotten up from, and gingerly made his way to where I sat behind my desk. He looked down at me slightly as I sat, but we were essentially still on eye level with one another. I could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his lips parted slightly in lust. He pressed his crotch into my gut as he leaned down to kiss me. I could feel his erection through his khakis.

I reached up and palmed his ass, holding a cheek in each hand. He really was stacked back there. He moaned slightly, pressing his dick further into my stomach. We continued kissing, and I pulled him even closer into myself.

I could have kissed him like this for hours, but he pulled away after a few minutes. His palms were pressed against my sagging chest, which sat atop my heavy middle. He slid his hands down my front before resting them on the part of my gut that sat out the farthest. Normally, my first instinct would have been to suck it in, but I realized how useless that would have been. There was no hiding it anymore.

He patted my stomach gently before moving his hands beneath it, lifting it and bouncing it up and down slowly. I could see his hardness through his khakis, so it was clear that he was enjoying himself. If I were to be honest with myself, I was enjoying the belly play too. I’d never had someone focus so intently on my gut before.

I stood up, and he tilted his head back to continue meeting my gaze. I had to play this correctly. I knew he made a joke about liking dominant men, but I wasn’t certain it was actually what he was into.

“Get on your knees,” I said, staring down at him.

“Yes sir.”

He knew what I wanted. He pawed at my underwear until it was around my ankles. My dick bobbed freely now, level with his line of sight. The closer he got to me, the harder I got and the harder it was to see him. He reached up with one hand to hold my belly out of the way and with the other he grabbed the base of my dick.

“Get to work,” I instructed. I grabbed a fistful of his hair as he wrapped his mouth around my dick. It had been a while, but I couldn’t recall a better blow. He was a perfectionist in every sense of the word. His one hand gently massaged the base of my gut as he continued sucking me off. I’d been with people who liked that I wasn’t rail thin, but never with someone like Parker. Everything was adding up. The special treats, the lunches together, the cake at the party this afternoon. He liked me being fat, and I was now fairly certain he wanted me even fatter. “I’m about to cum.”

He didn’t stop his work. He simply slowed his pace, teasing my dick with his tongue in a different way. The switch in sensation caused me to erupt. A heavy stream of cum shot from my dick into his mouth and he made sure to get every last drop. I let go of his hair, stepping back so I could have a seat.

I was panting heavily, my underwear around my ankles, gut rising and falling with each deep breath I took. He looked up at me from his place on the floor. His hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. I could still see his erection through his khakis. Damn, he was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. I could hardly believe he was experiencing such intense lust over me.

“You’re something else,” I said, still catching my breath. “And I can’t believe it, but I’d kill for another piece of that cake right now.”

That had him up on his feet, speed-walking from my office and back to the conference room. He was so out of it, he’d probably run to that bakery to get me another piece if he had to.

This shift in our relationship was going to be interesting.

I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen immediately following our initial sexual encounter, but we went about our weekends like nothing had changed. After eating one of the final slices of that cake from the office party, I left early to purchase some new clothing items. He texted me, and I replied, but neither of us mentioned what had happened.

So Monday morning came and I had spent the entire weekend eating optimistically. I thought about how much he’d want me to be eating good. At one point, I googled “gay fat fetish” and found there was a whole world of people not only into big guys, but into big guys getting even bigger. Maybe he’d bring it up, but now I wanted to test the waters a little. What sort of things would get him going? I was excited to find out. Monday morning, I was hard the entire commute to work thinking about demolishing whatever Parker planned to put in front of me. 

I walked into the elevator, pressing the button that would lead me to the twentieth floor. I noticed Parker making his way toward the elevators. Just seeing him existing in the world made me so fucking happy. I almost didn’t even notice that Mark was right next to him. I hit the door open button quickly, wanting to be near Parker as soon as possible, even if that meant sharing the space with Mark. The doors stayed open, and they both got on.

“Good Morning, Mr. Reynolds.” He smiled up at me. He was carrying a tote bag, and like some sort of sugar-addicted bloodhound, I was almost certain I could smell cinnamon. 

“Parker, hey,” I said, covering my crotch with my bag. Just hearing him say my name was turning me on, giving me a semi. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Hello Andrew,” Mark said. To be completely honest, I’d blocked him out almost immediately. He and I weren’t on the best terms, especially after my promotion.

“Hey Mark.”

“Are you still hitting the gym?” he asked. “Since you got that promotion, I’ve noticed a change in your appearance. I’m sure you’re eating well on that executive salary.”

“I do have a hand in that,” Parker said plainly. “Mr. Reynolds is very kind to indulge my personal baking hobby.”

“But still,” Mark pressed. “Sometimes we’ve got to push ourselves, you know? Once you hit thirty it takes more effort to stay in shape.”

“I think he looks great,” Parker offered, turning to look at Mark. He gave him an obvious once over, his eyes traveling from the top of his head all the way to his shoes. “Do you work out, Mark?”

“Yeah, I do actually,” Mark responded proudly. “Six days a week.”

“Really?” Parker inquired. “I’d have never thought that.”

The man was too stunned to speak.

We all stood silent, the whir of the elevator’s mechanisms the only source of sound. The elevator finally stopped on our floor. Parker and I went towards my office while Mark made his way to his cubicle. Parker placed the tote bag on his desk and I stopped for a moment.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, giving a knowing smile.

“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.”

“You’re something else.”

“I’m nothing special,” he said, removing two Tupperware containers from the tote bag. “So today you have options. You could have some millionaire shortbread bars or carrot cake cinnamon rolls.”

“Or? You act like I’m not going to polish off both of these containers before we head out for lunch.”

“Uh—well, I—I didn’t think you’d want—”

He looked up at me in surprise, like he’d been found out. I’d known Parker for a couple of months now, and I’d never seen him so flustered. It made me weirdly satisfied. He wanted me to eat? He wanted me to put on a few pounds? If he kept blowing me like he had last week, I’d eat whatever he wanted for the rest of my life.

“I bought some new pants, so I can probably keep indulging for a little while. I need my assistant to make sure I don’t go hungry. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, sir,” he said. “Not a problem at all, sir.”

“I didn’t think it would be.” I grabbed both containers and went into my office, peeling off both lids and diving into the baked goods with unabashed enthusiasm. Over that first hour of the day, I ate a dozen shortbread bars and six hefty cinnamon rolls. 

Once I’d finished both desserts, I sat back at my desk. I felt my chair sag, groaning slightly as I allowed my bulk to settle into the seat. This was so unhinged. What was happening to me? Maybe it was all the sugar, but I was in some sort of stupor. My only thought was how I wanted Parker between my legs again, his hands all over my gut. I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I must’ve sat there for about ten minutes before there was a knock at my door. “Mr. Reynolds?”

“Come in.” Parker opened the door and walked up to my desk. I watched him survey the scene. I laughed a little to myself at the shocked expression on his face as he took in both containers sitting empty in front of me.

“You already finished the–the–the shortbread bars?”

“And the cinnamon rolls,” I added. “They were both phenomenal. You’ve got quite the talent.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I only wish I’d had some milk to wash it all down with.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.”

“There is something you could do for me right now,” I said. He looked back at my office door, which he’d left open. He went over to the door and closed it quietly.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Reynolds?”

“You could get that ass over here, for starters.”

He made his way to where I sat behind my desk, like he had on Friday. We looked at one another for a moment, both taking in the moment. It probably wasn’t smart to fuck my assistant before 10 AM on a Monday, but I’d spent nearly two years involuntarily celibate.

“Get undressed.”

He didn’t question me. He immediately began unbuttoning his crisp, white dress shirt. He tossed it on my desk and then peeled his undershirt off over his head. He shimmied out of his navy-colored chinos. He was in nothing but a pair of stylish briefs. It was obvious he worked out, as his quads bulged with muscle as did his arms. He had well-defined abs, firm pecs. 

His body was completely opposite to my own. My legs and arms were large, yes, but not defined with muscle as they had been in the past. I’d never had abs in my entire life. My stomach sat heavy in front of me, packed full of sugary snacks. And even though I’d just eaten enough baked goods for a small get-together, I was already thinking about what I’d be having for lunch.

“What’re we doing for lunch?” I asked. His whole face reddened, all the way to his ears. I reached out to pull him closer, so I could feel his body with my mouth. I kissed his chest softly, enjoying his scent in the process. “I asked you what we’re doing for lunch.”

He moaned loudly.

“Last—last week you mentioned you wanted an—an Italian beef from—” I bit his nipple gently, sucking it afterwards. “Big Beef’s.”

“Fuck that sounds good. With extra hot peppers and a cheese sauce on the side.” He pawed at his briefs, exposing himself to me. He had a nice dick, a respectable size. He was getting off on this for sure. I let go of his waist and began to unbutton my own shirt. He watched me intently, still stroking his penis. I tossed it on the desk with his clothing items.

He paused his masturbatory efforts to help me remove my undershirt. His briefs were now around his ankles and he pressed his dick into my gut. I grabbed at his ass, lightly teasing his hole with my finger as he grinded against me. He didn’t last long after that, coming all over my bloated stomach. He took a step back. Looking down, I could see his cum glistening as it coated the fuzz of my belly. “You’re not done,” I said, lifting my gut to reveal my belt buckle.

A man of excellent intuition, Parker immediately got me out of my pants and gave me some very thorough head.

Oh, and lunch at Big Beef’s that afternoon was stupendous.

We fell into a routine that made every work day well worth it. He was still bringing me his baked goods (beverages now included). We left the office whenever possible to grab a bite to eat during our lunch hour, and when we couldn’t get away he made sure to pick something up for me or to have it delivered. But the best part had to be our sexual escapades. I’d had nearly every part of his body in my mouth at least once. And he was excellent at taking direction. I was pretty sure at this point that he craved it, being told what to do. He was my good boy, doing what I requested, often going above and beyond like there was a chance of being promoted.

From the end of October to the start of the winter holidays, he and I were completely engrossed with one another. Although, even with how intense things had been within the four walls of my office, we had yet to move beyond them.

It was now the second week of December. I was nearing 400 pounds, a thought that was slightly frightening to me. I’d never been this big in my entire life. People around the office had taken notice of my rapid weight gain. It was the elephant in the room. But the food was good, and the sex mind-blowing. I was also intoxicated by Parker’s adoration. With each pound I gained, he seemed to get more and more excited to service me. I wondered how much longer my wardrobe would last before needing to be updated again.

“Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds.” I looked up from the email I was drafting. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Yeah? What is it?” I inquired, wondering what it was Parker had been mulling over. He was shifting his weight back and forth, nervously smiling in my direction like the day I hired him.

“Well, my parents bought me these tickets to a musical a few weeks ago, and I know that it’s last minute, but I was really hoping you would come with me to see it.”

“A musical?”

“What can I say?” he offered, shrugging slightly. “I’m as stereotypical as they come.”

“When is it?” I asked.

“Tomorrow.” A Saturday.

Was Parker trying to take things to the next level? This was an exciting development. I would love to spend time with him outside of working hours. I could only imagine how much fun we’d have late into the evening post dinnertime.

“If it’s too much, I understand.”

Too much? Not at all. We both wanted more. It was like a weight had been lifted from me (metaphorically, of course). The office sexcapades were nice, there was no doubt about that, but he too wanted to be more than just a hook-up.

“You just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

He laughed.

“I’m kind of obsessed, can’t you tell?”

“I love being adored,” I said, smiling at him playfully. “And now I’m really looking forward to this musical tomorrow. What’s the runtime? Over two hours, I’m sure. I’ll probably need to eat something beforehand.”

“I’ll make a reservation,” he declared enthusiastically, always delighted at an opportunity to get me eating. I was only half-serious with my comment about needing to eat beforehand, but I wasn’t so sure I’d make it the two and a half hours without a meal prior to the curtain rising. I felt incredibly lucky. We’d be getting dinner and seeing a show (and hopefully having even more fun at one of our apartments after).

Once he made the reservation, he emailed over all the info—the restaurant, the reservation time, the name of the theater, the showtime. I could hardly wait. I’d be counting the milliseconds until then. 

The next evening, I dressed to meet Parker for our date. I wore a pair of dark jeans and some Nikes. When I first landed that account, they’d sent over at least ten different pairs. I had lots of dress shirts that fit fairly well since I re-upped, but I wanted to be a little more casual. I found a burgundy crew neck in the back of my dresser that had been a staple in my wardrobe last winter. I pulled it on and found myself shocked at how it fit. I figured there’d be some resistance, but the fabric clung to my plump chest and protruding belly in a way that was much more form-fitting than I anticipated. I tugged at the bottom trying to pull it down to cover the entirety of my stomach. If I moved my arms too much, it exposed some of my brown skin, even though I was also wearing an undershirt.

My first inclination was to change. I wouldn’t have normally wanted to draw attention to my size. But I knew what Parker liked, and I loved pressing his buttons, so I put on my jacket and grabbed my keys, deciding to keep on the sweater. I hoped I wouldn’t come to regret my outfit choice later on.

I was right on time to Haraboji’s, and as I entered the restaurant, I noticed my perfectly punctual assistant had already beaten me to the establishment.

“Mr. Reynolds, over here!” He waved at me from a seat at the bar. I felt silly for being this excited, considering we ate together in restaurants every other day, but this was no work-lunch. This was a Saturday night dinner. A date.

“Parker, hey,” I said, smiling down at my companion for the evening. He was still wearing his jacket, a stylish, olive-green duffle coat. He had on a pair of platform Chelsea boots and dark chinos. “Please, call me Andy, or Andrew—even Drew would be fine.” 

“Oh, yes, of course,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “I guess we aren’t in the office.”

“That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he replied. “I’ve wanted to eat here with you for months.”

“I’ve heard this place is really good.”

“Have you ever had Korean barbecue before?” he asked. “I haven’t been to a Korean restaurant since I moved here.”

“I haven’t, but you know I’ll try anything. I trust you to make sure I have something tasty.”

After that the hostess called Parker’s name and we were seated. It was pretty crowded, every table filled. In front of us was a little grilling station. Our waiter came and Parker took the reins, ordering what seemed like a lot of food for just two people. He asked for bulgogi, pork belly, garlic butter chicken, and brisket. He also ordered fried seaweed rolls and tteokbokki. Our waiter brought out a lot of little dishes with different vegetables on them.

“These are banchan—um, side dishes,” Parker explained. “They’re really good with the grilled meats. That one is cucumber, that one is potato, and that one is zucchini.”

“And that one is kimchi.”

“Yes, exactly!”

Our waiter returned with another worker to assist him. One of them held our appetizers, the other numerous plates of raw meat on a serving platter. Once all the plates were set out in front of us, it seemed truly excessive. Parker got to work immediately, oiling the grill and placing meat on it strategically. As things were cooked he piled them high on my plate. Everything tasted great and I followed every suggestion he gave me. “Eat this with that,” he’d say, hyper focused on his grilling. “Ooo, you’ve got to try that with this dipping sauce.”

Halfway through the meal, I noticed that he was no longer eating. I seemed to be his main priority. I was now regretting my earlier boldness when getting dressed for this outing. My sweater rose slightly on my stomach exposing the light layer of dark hair on my underbelly. Parker didn’t stop either, making sure to cook every piece of meat that had been provided to us.

“There’s also Korean fried chicken on the menu,” he said, having just finished grilling the last bit of bulgogi and pork belly. “They come in orders of four.”

I groaned slightly, sitting back in my seat and resting my hand on the top of my gut.

That was when the waiter returned, taking in my gorged state his face reddened on my behalf and he focused his attention on Parker. “Is there anything else I can get for you guys?”

“Yes, we wanted a double order of the fried chicken wings and a bottle of peach soju.”

The waiter glanced in my direction and then back at Parker. He probably couldn’t believe we were ordering more food. I couldn’t believe we were ordering more food, but my date was a man on a mission. We did have about forty minutes before we needed to be at the theater, but I still thought he was cutting it close.

“I’ll put that in right now.” I waited for our server to leave before speaking. 

“I’m spilling out of my sweater and you're still shoving food in my direction.”

“Andy,” he said innocently. “You don’t want to be hungry while the show is going on. You said so yourself, remember?”

“How considerate of you,” I responded, sitting up. I grabbed my fork and started in on the last bit of meat he’d put on my plate. “And I can’t wait to thank you at my place after the show.”

After dinner at Haraboji’s, we made our way to the theater for the musical. I’d already parked my Buick Enclave in a parking garage on the same street as the restaurant. He informed me that he picked this restaurant not only because he’d been wanting to try it, but also because it was only a block away from where we’d be seeing the show.

I was so full I didn’t feel like doing anything, especially walking. I was perspiring a little bit so I left my jacket open to air myself out. I could feel a cool breeze on my stomach, but I just ignored it. Parker was leading the way, glancing my way every so often to check me out. If his parents hadn’t gone through the trouble of buying him these tickets, we’d already be halfway to my place.

We made it to the lobby and the worker scanned the tickets on Parker’s phone. There was about ten minutes until the show would start so we made our way to our seats. This was where things got awkward.

Personally, when purchasing tickets in advance, I always tried to get the seat closest to the aisle. But these two seats were right in the middle of a row. Not everyone was in their seats yet, but we’d still need to shimmy past five or so people. Parker seemed somewhat oblivious to this issue, and in his defense, he likely never faced this sort of problem. Being bigger meant anticipating any obstacle. Would there be a lot of walking? Would there be a lot of stairs? How sturdy were the seats? I’d always thought about these things, but having gained fifty pounds in the last five months created even more complications I needed to be ready for.

“Excuse us,” Parker said, making his way into the row. He got by the first person with ease, whereas the man needed to stand up for me and press himself as far back into his seat as possible. Even then, my gut pushed up against him as I made my way past him. This happened four more times until we made it to our seats.

I sat in the chair and it creaked loudly. It was a really tight squeeze. This was not a theater that had been updated this century. It had probably been forty or fifty years since there had been any type of alteration to the seating. The armrests could not be lifted, so I sat there as they dug into the sides of my bloated gut. Fuck, I thought. Maybe we shouldn’t have gone so hard at dinner.

“Isn’t there like a special section for bigger people?” the woman next to me asked the man she was with. She was at least trying to whisper, but considering the fact I was sitting right next to her that didn’t do much to keep me from hearing her. “It’s just, these seats are so small, you know? Even for someone regularly sized.”

I’d been feeling pretty good before all of this happened. I was used to people making comments. But something about this made me really think hard about what I’d been doing to my body. I was already fat. I’d already had horrible eating habits. But should I have let this thing with Parker push me so completely into gluttony? I was the one who had to deal with the wardrobe malfunctions and too-small theater seats. 

Parker was a great person and a masterful lover, but he was also ten years younger than me. If this dalliance were to end, he could go about his life unchanged. But me? How much bigger would I be by the time he got bored of me?

“Andy,” Parker said, his hand on my thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. This wasn’t the time or place to share my thoughts with him.

“I didn’t pick the seats,” he explained. “Next time, I’ll make sure that we’re on the end.” 

“Thanks.” I exhaled, feeling a little better. Him saying that didn’t absolve all of my fears, but it reminded me of how thoughtful Parker was. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like to be my size, but he did try to consider how my size affected my day-to-day life.

The lights dimmed and the show started a few minutes later. It was pretty funny and the music was enjoyable. I never thought a musical adaptation of an 80’s fantasy-horror-comedy would be any good, but I’d see it again if given the chance. After the cast took their bows we waited for our row to clear out before we got up. I could tell he really enjoyed himself, so that made the two and half hours in that seat from hell worth it.

“I Ubered here from my apartment,” he said once we were outside.

“I’m in that parking garage by the restaurant,” I said. “I could give you a ride home.”

“You did say you needed to thank me at dinner.”

“Oh, I know just how to thank you.” It was nearly ten, and aside from the people who were also leaving the theater, there weren’t a ton of people around. I grabbed Parker’s hand and we went to my car. I asked him where he lived and other than that I just listened to all the fun facts he had about the production. We were soon out front. “You’re coming up, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.” I parked and we made our way towards the entrance. He led me up some stairs to his fourth floor apartment. If he lived any higher, we’d have had to call it a night. His place was pretty small, a one bedroom. It was also super neat and tidy. Everything about Parker was that way.

He took off his jacket and hung it in the closet, offering to take mine too in the process. He told me to take a seat on the couch. I sat and realized how little it was. I guess a couch of this size was all he really needed, but it was more like a chair. I filled it up three-fourths of the way.

He carried in a tray with some vanilla oat milk and a container of cookies. He placed it on the coffee table and sat on the remaining one-fourth of sofa. “Consider these as a thank you for a great evening,” he said. “They’re lemon shortbread.”

“You must spend a fortune on butter and eggs.”

“Not at all, I just started buying in bulk when I realized I had someone to bake for.”

“I appreciate getting to eat everything you’ve made for me,” I said, pulling at my sweater, “though I should probably slow down on all the baked goods.” I looked in his direction, wondering how he’d take in that information. He looked a little hurt, a little embarrassed.

“Is everything okay, Andy?” he asked. “With us, I mean. I just thought—”

I could just keep all of these concerns to myself, but that wouldn’t solve anything. It was probably better to have this conversation now instead of later. “I’ve gained a substantial amount of weight since we started sleeping together. I know we haven’t put into words what this is, but I’m pretty sure you’re a feeder—or an encourager—which term is it?” I thought about all the information I found back when I investigated gay fat fetishes a few months ago.

“I think they’re pretty interchangeable.” He wasn’t looking at me. “And I guess that I am, yes.”  He actually looked super pale. Was he scared? Did he think I was upset? I figured he was aware that he’d been found out months ago. He was always so focused on my weight and overfeeding me. His preferences were kind of obvious.

“I’m not upset,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “If I’m being honest, I’m pretty into it.”

He looked up at me, relief overtaking his previously sullen expression. “You are?”

“I think you know I like to eat. And getting bigger is kind of hot when I have someone so into it.”

“I’m into it for sure.”

“My main concern is how serious you are, Parker.” He looked at me intently, waiting for me to continue speaking. “You’re young. You’re still fairly new to the area. When it comes down to it, you’re a hot commodity. Any guy would be lucky to be with you. With how big I was, with how big I’ve gotten, I’m limiting myself. My prospects were slim before, but I’ve probably made the margins even smaller in regards to my marketability.”

“Andrew, I am very serious about you,” he said. “You are the sexiest guy I’ve ever been with. You’re also the biggest guy I've ever been with. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I am willing to do. If you want to lose weight, that’s fine. If you want me to stop with the baking, that’s fine. I just want you. I like you.”

“I like you too. I have since you first started working for me.” Our eyes were locked on one another. This conversation felt so real, so needed. This guy was serious about me. What a relief. “And let’s not be too hasty about the baking. I’ll let you know if we need to slow down, Mr. Feeder.”

This caused his whole face to redden, all the way to his ears. I loved when that happened. It was so funny to see his emotions so clearly. “Now bring that container of cookies over here. I’m hungry.”

Maybe it was reckless of me. Maybe I should’ve taken the out Parker had offered me. But I kept on eating like I had been. I blew past 400 pounds as we entered the new year. He’d flown home for the holidays, so I spent time with my own family. They all showed great concern for how big I’d gotten, but that didn’t stop them from piling my plate high with soul food at Christmas dinner. That was just how my family operated. It’s why I was so big growing up to begin with.

That first Monday back after the winter holidays was nice because we were able to fall back into our normal routine, which included copious amounts of food and a great deal sex. While most people around the office set goals for having a healthier diet or joining a gym, I did nothing of the sort. It was somewhat freeing to know there was no resolution I was bound to break.

Over the first few months of the new year, Parker began spending more and more time at my apartment. Suddenly there was a toothbrush, and then extra pairs of underwear, and then, an item that let me know how serious things had gotten between us, his KitchenAid Stand Mixer.

“You’re here more than at your place,” I said one Saturday evening in April. We’d ordered pizza for dinner, and even though Parker had stopped eating thirty minutes ago, I was still working on an extra-large, tavern-style sausage and pepperoni. I’d already eaten some buffalo wings and a Caesar salad (for balance, of course). “When does your lease end?”

“Well, it ends August of this year.”

“Cancel it.”

“Cancel it?”

“Yeah,” I said, reaching for another slice. “I’ll pay whatever fee your landlord charges for breaking your lease.”

The next week he moved into my three-bedroom apartment. I had more than enough room for his stuff. Even his dollhouse-sized couch fit comfortably against a wall in the home office. This did mean my office baked goods were a thing of the past. They were never able to last long enough after he prepared them to be brought into work. Since meeting Parker nine months ago, I was now 75 pounds heavier.

Parker and I were going to take a long weekend for Memorial Day. We’d both put in for the day off on Friday and we wouldn’t need to return to the office until Tuesday. I’d rented a house up north, about three hours away. The Thursday before we were to leave, Parker frantically entered my office a little after we returned from lunch.

I was positively beached. We were both looking forward to the weekend and he excitedly ordered for me at Rockin’ Sushi. We had purchased enough sashimi, nigiri, and maki rolls for a party of five or six people.

My belly covered my lap almost to my knees when I sat. I normally didn’t dress so casually for the office, but today I was wearing a polo. The fabric was pulled tight around my stomach and I’d been massaging the sides of my gut before Parker came to find me. If he didn’t seem so distraught, I’d have asked him to take over.

“We can’t go out of town,” he said. “We have to reevaluate your accounts.”

“What?” I asked, my eyes half-open. “I have nine major accounts and twelve smaller ones. That’s more than all the other execs.”

“Yes, that’s true, but—” he stopped talking. He probably felt like he’d been overreacting, but I wanted to make sure his worries were quelled.

“Talk to me.”

“I heard from Mr. Monroe’s assistant, who heard from Mr. Otterly’s assistant, that Mr. Otterly plans to retire at the end of June.” John Otterly was well past the age for retirement. His presence at Hathaway and Associates was really just a formality at this point. He’d been an exec at our agency since the mid-seventies. In his prime, for sure, he was incredible at pulling in clients and coming up with catchy slogans for print ads. Now, he had only one major account for a failing brand of novelty gag-gifts. “They’re looking to promote someone, but they want to make the position more robust by taking some accounts from other executives.”

“Bullshit.”

“Agreed.” He watched me heave myself out of my desk chair. “What should we do?”

“Follow me.”

I might have moved a little bit more slowly these days, but with Parker’s help I’d acquired two new clients in the last nine months and strengthened our agency’s relationship with all my original accounts. I wasn’t just some overweight behemoth who didn’t do any work. I was a heavy hitter. I’d recently had a confidence about myself that, shamefully, came from the idolization and devotion Parker gave to me. I was the biggest I’d ever been, but I didn’t feel ashamed of myself. I was already going to draw attention entering a room so I might as well not give a fuck what people thought.

We stopped outside of William Hathaway’s office, whose grandfather had actually founded Hathaway and Associates almost a century ago. We executives kept things running while he received a great deal of the credit, considering he was only in office two days a week. He did hold a forty-five percent share on the board of directors, which was the largest portion of any member. This meant he had a great deal of influence when the board made the large decisions that affected day-to-day operations.

“He’s preparing to leave early for the holiday weekend,” his administrative assistant said plainly. She was also the office manager. Mr. Hathaway’s schedule allowed her to take on more responsibilities, so she helped to organize the tasks for the interns and other assistants. “He doesn’t want to be bothered, especially after the meeting he just had.”

“Martha,” Parker said gently, smiling in her direction. “Mr. Reynolds was hoping to speak with Mr. Hathaway before he left. If he’s not terribly busy, would you please let him?”

“I don’t know. He was pretty adamant that he didn’t want to see anyone else.”

“Didn’t you say your husband liked the chocolate-dipped almond biscotti I made you for your anniversary?”

“Those were divine,” she said, taking more interest in Parker’s plea. I remembered those biscotti. I’d eaten two test batches before he felt confident enough to share them with Martha.

“Weren’t they?” I added. “I don’t know how he does it, but he’s incredibly talented.”

“My husband’s birthday is coming up,” she pondered aloud. “Have you ever made a cake before?”

“Of course!”

They ironed out some details and settled on a tiramisu inspired layer cake. She hopped out of her seat giddily and went to inform Hathaway of our arrival. We got the go ahead to enter and there he was waiting for us behind his desk nursing a scotch.

“Reynolds, you’re bigger every time I see you.”

Hathaway wasn’t one to mince words.

“You’re one to talk. I’m not the only one carrying around a spare tire.” This made him laugh.

“I’m in my sixties, what’s your excuse?” He didn’t stop. “And I’ve got a spare tire, you’ve got a whole Goodyear.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, allowing him to think his ribbing had gotten to me. “I’m just eating good. And my assistant here is a master baker.”

“He is, eh?” Hathaway asked, drinking from his scotch. “You're the biscotti boy?”

“Yes sir. That’s me.”

“Martha, that stingy bitch, only let me have one. Said they were for her anniversary. I’ve got an anniversary. And a birthday.”

“I’ll get those dates from Martha, sir.” Hathaway gave an impressed smirk and took another sip from his drink.

After that, we were finally able to talk business. I asked about Otterly. His retirement was true, a decision “strongly encouraged” by all members of the board. The position being padded with the accounts of other executives was also true. We would be asked in the coming month to choose one or two of our large scale accounts to let go of. When I asked why they didn’t just cut the position, they were concerned about losing their lead copywriter, who voiced concerns about a lack of upward mobility at Hathaway and Associates. He claimed he’d be willing to walk away from the agency unless he was seriously considered for Otterly’s position. 

That lead copywriter? Mark.

If it were anyone else, I would have thought twice about my next course of action. But for Mark? I couldn't care less.

“Well,” I started, hoping I was playing this right. “I say cut Otterly’s position. Give his few accounts to one of us execs, and if he walks, he walks.”

“He’s done good work,” Hathaway offered.

“You can save a great deal by cutting the position. Promote one of the junior copywriters to Mark’s position. And for good measure, Parker here can take the open junior copywriter role.” Parker made a sound of surprise but did his best to recover.

“Biscotti boy?”

“He’s got the Andrew Reynolds seal of approval.” This meant a great deal. I had the most accounts out of all eleven execs. I also had the greatest renewal rates. “I’d be losing the world’s greatest assistant, but I’d do anything for Hathaway and Associates.”

“My great-niece did just graduate from Columbia,” Hathaway said. “I’m sure she’ll need help finding a job with a degree in art history.” If I had to deal with another nepo-baby, so be it. I was keeping my accounts and helping Parker advance in his career.

“Just think about it,” I said, ending our conversation. As we left his office, Martha entered. Before the door closed completely, I heard him mentioning that the board needed to convene after the holiday weekend to vote about an important matter. I had a good feeling that things were going to change for my little Biscotti Boy.

We did still manage to make it up to the house I rented. Fortunately, it was somewhat secluded, the houses pretty far apart from each other. They were only really visible to one another from the front yard. Parker had a long list of grocery items he needed, so our first stop after checking into the rental was the local supercenter. He was obviously grateful for what I’d done in Hathaway’s office, and he spent the weekend showing me that gratitude with his culinary skills and physical flexibility. My favorite memory from our trip would be how he’d gotten me on the floor after grilling some brats and making s’mores.

“Okay, so bend your knees,” he said, swinging his leg around my waist after tossing me a pillow for underneath my head. There wasn’t a ton of space between my bent knees and my bulging belly, but Parker fit there perfectly. He looked down at me as he sat atop my waist, sliding all nine inches of my penis inside himself. He rested his hands on my stomach. Their warmth penetrated me to my core. 

I reached up to grab at his butt as he rode me. It felt good in my hands, and the thought of what it looked like as I fucked him had me salivating. Always the hard worker, Parker swiveled his hips back and forth rhythmically. His dick was angled upwards, sandwiched between the bottom of my gut and his flat stomach. He leaned forward slightly, his hands sliding up my stomach to my chest. He grabbed my slightly puffy nipples and pinched them gently. That intensified the pleasure I was feeling and I lifted him slightly by raising my legs, pushing myself deeper inside of his ass. 

“Oh God,” he moaned, sitting straight up. He bounced up and down like this for nearly a minute before he came. His cum shot up his front, some landing on the floor and on my gut. The look of sheer pleasure on his face was intoxicating. That did it for me too, and had me shooting my load as well.

We stayed on the floor longer than intended. I couldn’t get up just yet, so he covered both of our naked bodies with a large blanket and cuddled up close to me. Losing him as my assistant was going to be tough, but moments like these would make up for it.

Returning to work on Tuesday was fine. I’d have preferred another week in a secluded lake house with Parker, but the real world was waiting for us. Antoinette was in rare form, flitting from assistant to assistant spreading gossip. She was Hathaway and Associates' very own Lady Whistledown, though a lot less discreet. 

Before lunch, the board met to discuss the future of Mr. Otterly’s position. Antoinette made sure everyone knew how they voted, openly voicing her dismay that her good friend Mark would not be shifting to an executive role, as John Otterly’s position would be closed and his accounts redistributed amongst some of the remaining executives.

The ball was now in Mark’s court. He could keep his current job or he could quit. I was hoping for the latter, so Parker could shine in the field he’d gone to school for.

We worked all day and at exactly five we clocked out. We entered the elevator and Mark followed behind us. “That’s some shit you pulled Andy,” he spat. I noticed a cardboard box in his hands.

“You’re referring to what exactly?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Oh please,” he said. “You get a little ass from your assistant and you’re bending over backwards to get him a promotion. It’s pathetic, but it makes a lot of sense. Why else would he ever waste his time trying to find your dick under that massive gut?”

“You’re out of line,” I said, stepping towards him.

“He’s a sneak and you’re a gullible, desperate, sorry excuse for a professional.” He was upset, understandably, but his job had still been intact. He could’ve continued in his role as lead copywriter, a position I held for over four years before my promotion, and one day he’d be seen as ready to move up in the agency. He’d only been lead copywriter for a year and a half, a role in which he’d been given when the previous lead stepped down to take care of her newborn twins. Mark expected things to be handed to him without putting in the work. Now he was throwing a tantrum, and he wanted to take out his anger on us because he thought we were easy targets.

“Have you ever considered the fact that you just aren’t that likable?” I asked, staring down at him, forcing him into the corner of the elevator. “You’re talented, sure, but you are just so fucking hard to like. Hathaway knows this, the other execs know this. Why do you think it was so easy to encourage them to close Otterly’s position? They don’t want to work any more closely with you than they already do.”

I looked down at the cardboard box. Like a baby, he’d quit when he didn’t get his way. “Or should I say did?”

The elevator stopped on the main floor and the doors opened. Mark looked up at me and then over at Parker. “Fuck the both of you,” he said, pushing past me with slight difficulty. Parker looked pretty mortified, his entire face red with embarrassment.

My little ingénue. He was still very green, and I loved that about him, but I needed him to stand up for himself if he was going to survive in this industry. People made jokes or rude comments. There’d be backstabbing and petty office gossip. At the end of the day it didn’t matter. I was proof of that. There’d been talk about my weight for months, and I was still one of the most successful people on staff.

I’d for sure been in a slump before I met Parker, but I was becoming the man I’d been in my early twenties (metaphorically, not physically). There was a lot less self-doubt and self-loathing. I liked looking at myself in the mirror. I knew that I was good at what I did, and I knew I just needed to carry myself like I had when I was grinding as a junior copywriter. 

“That was really intense,” he said. We’d slowed, pausing in a stairwell. We were halfway between the lobby and the underground parking garage. “I would never sleep with you for that. I swear that I would never do that.”

“I know.” I felt myself smiling. It made me feel good that he liked me so much. His first thought was how I felt. He was always looking out for me, and if he did get a new role as a copywriter, no assistant would ever live up to what he was capable of.

“I love you,” he said, looking at me seriously. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that to me. How we’d gotten to this point, I’d never fully grasp, but I was glad that we did.

“I love you too,” I said. We were silent for a moment, and I took the opportunity to joke with him. “And I have to say, what an elaborate scheme you pulled. The baked goods, the lunches, the head. All for a promotion. You’re truly a mastermind.”

He laughed, swatting me on the ass. “And this is only Phase One. Mu-ha-ha.”

“What’s Phase Two?”

“Hmm, I’ll let you know when I think of it.”

“Maybe you aren’t the mastermind I thought you were—”

“Shut up!” he said, laughing. “Now let’s get you something good to eat for defending my honor.”

A month later, Parker was officially offered a position as a junior copywriter. He’d taken me shopping for some summer clothing items—both work attire and casual items. The number of X’s on my shirts and shorts was a little shocking, but he did have a knack for picking flattering cuts and patterns. I may have been over 400 pounds, but I’d never looked more stylish.

“Are you ready yet?” Parker called from the living room. It was the last Saturday in June and all of Parker’s old roommates from California were in town for the last weekend of Pride and to celebrate his promotion.

“Yeah,” I called in response. I walked out of our bedroom. “But you’re sure you want me to wear this to meet your friends?”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “It’s just a pair of shorts and a polo. It’s not risqué.”

The shorts were much shorter than I’d buy for myself, but they did fit me very well. They were a good three inches above my knees. He saw them on some Instagram ad and bought me three different pairs. The polo was much more out of my comfort zone. It was cream-colored and a crochet knit. You could see glimpses of my brown skin through the hundreds of small holes that made up the shirt.

“But it seems like you guys want to dance and that’s not really my scene anymore. Can’t you all celebrate tonight and then we all meet up for brunch tomorrow?”

“Okay, what about we all meet up tonight and go out to brunch tomorrow morning?” he countered in rhetorical fashion. “And besides, if you don’t want to burn any calories, you can just have some bar food and a beer.”

“They have those soft pretzels there don’t they?”

“They sure do,” he said, handing me my keys. “Now let’s go please.”

Fortunately I was able to find a good parking spot not too far from the bar. I parked and we walked the block to Dudes. The day had cooled considerably, which I was grateful for. It’d been in the eighties, but it was only about seventy now that the sun had set. They asked to see Parker’s ID and then we made our way inside.

“Parker!” I looked for who had shouted his name. It was another Asian guy who was about Parker’s height.

“Yedam, hey!” Parker looked at me. “Andy, this is Yedam. Yedam, this is my boyfriend Andy.”

“Oh wow,” Yedam said, taking me in. He smiled, like he was trying to stifle a laugh. “Um, it’s nice to meet you.” He locked eyes with Parker, raising his eyebrows theatrically. Was this a good interaction or not? I was having trouble reading the situation. Two other guys made their way to where we stood, both holding drinks. One of the guys handed a glass to Yedam.

“Mike, Sam, this is my boyfriend Andy.” Mike was white and very blond. Sam was black, a little lighter than I was. Overall, they all had the same vibe as Parker. Very put-together, the same height and build.

“This makes sense,” Sam said, gesturing back and forth with his pointer finger between Parker and I.

“Oh yeah, a thousand percent,” Mike added.

I felt like I was missing something, but I was hopeful Parker would fill me in later. The guys all told me I was very handsome and very large. It wasn’t in a sarcastic way, or a flirtatious way even. They presented it like they were simply stating facts. I ordered my pretzels and a round of shots for Parker and his friends. They were all laughing and joking and hanging off of one another. It was almost enough to make me jealous,  but I knew I was what Parker wanted. I didn’t need to worry about his friends.

After another shot Parker pulled me towards the crowded dance floor. “Ready?” he asked, leaning into me.

“I thought I was supposed to drink my beer and eat bar food.” I scanned the whole place; I was the biggest guy in the entire club.

“You’ve got all night to eat bar food. You can dance with me for a few minutes.” He started to move his body and I did too. I wasn’t a bad dancer; it was just something I tended to avoid. He turned slowly, his butt against my crotch.

It seemed like the music got faster and louder, and the entire time I couldn’t take my eyes off of Parker. He was absolutely gorgeous. I leaned down, kissing his neck. He lifted his arms, wrapping them around my neck. I stepped back and felt a foot under me. 

“Shit, man, watch where you’re going! You’re gonna break someone’s foot!” This guy was drunk.

“What was that?” I asked. Six months ago, I’d have left the dance floor completely mortified. But now, why would I ever stop living my life because I took up just a little too much space? The world was a big place, and people would just have to make room for me.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, adjusting his tone. “Just be more careful. Sorry.”

“That dude was an ass,” Parker said, turning to face me, resting his hands on my waist.

“As crowded as it is, I was bound to step on someone’s foot.” I leaned down so I didn’t have to shout this next part so loudly. “Although it does probably hurt a little more when the one doing the stepping is over 425 pounds.” Parker smiled at me, and I think it was a relief to him that I was being a good sport. 

“Parker! Andy!” It was Sam waving us over to the bar.

He and the rest of Parker’s friends wanted to do another shot and my pretzels were waiting for me. “They were just delivered,” Yedam said. “And we didn’t want them to get cold.”

The rest of the night went pretty well. Parker was always so reserved and in control of himself, so it was nice to see him having fun and letting loose. They were all pretty toasted by midnight, and Mike drunkenly started talking about getting something to eat.

“Why did we drink so much?” he bemoaned, leaning against Yedam as we left the bar. “We should’ve gotten dinner before the bar.”

“You were the one convinced you were getting laid tonight,” Sam stated, stumbling right along next to them.

“Andy knows a place,” Parker said, leaning against me. “Isn’t Sub Daddy’s second location near here?”

“Uh, yeah, it is,” I offered. “I can drive, though you all better not puke.”

“We won’t!” they all sang in unison.

We made it to my Buick unscathed, and I made sure everyone was buckled up. Looking at Parker in the seat next to me and his three drunk besties in the back seat was hilarious to me. It looked like I’d kidnapped a bunch of intoxicated twinks.

“So did Parker used to bake a lot when you all lived together?” I asked, making conversation as we drove.

“Constantly,” Yedam said, sounding comically exasperated. “We had this neighbor.”

“Oh yeah!” Mike interjected. “Big Idris.”

“Your neighbor went by ‘Big Idris?’ Seriously?” I asked.

“Of course not!” Sam exclaimed, cracking up. “I think his real name was Tyler or something?”

“Tyson,” Parker clarified, his entire face and ears covered in a red blush that I didn’t think was entirely from the alcohol.

“Tyson, right,” Sam continued. “We called him Big Idris because he was hot like a young Idris Elba, but much bigger. I mean, not huge.” There was a slight pause, as if he was second guessing his next statement. “Like you’re way bigger than he was.”

“Okay, so he wasn’t fat-fat, got it.”

“So anyway, Big Idris was our neighbor across the hall. When we moved in at the start of our fall semester junior year, Parker baked little treats for everyone on the floor. Big Idris was the only one who came back asking for seconds.” The three of them roared with laughter. I could see where this story was going. Yedam continued the tale.

“It was just like when we were in the dorms. He didn’t have access to a kitchen, but Parker made sure this guy who lived on the floor above us never went without a snack. Insomnia Cookies should probably erect a statue in Parker’s honor. What was his name? Owen?”

“Yes, Owen,” Parker confirmed.

“So Owen, the ex-football player, ended the year having put on the freshman fifteen.”

“Plus fifteen,” Mike added.

“Plus fifteen,” Sam followed. They all cracked up again. Parker was definitely an anomaly to them. An oddity that made for interesting stories. Their sex lives were probably pretty tame compared to what Parker and I were into.

“Owen was nothing like Big Idris though,” Yedam said. “Those 45 pounds were nothing compared to the almost a hundred Big Idris gained living across the hall from us for two years.”

Mike spoke next, saying, “To be fair, it wasn’t all Parker. This guy liked to eat, and he was always ordering DoorDash or UberEats.” 

“But Parker wasn’t innocent,” Sam said. “He baked him a different type of cookie at least three times a week.”

“What happened to Big Idris?” I asked, now extremely curious.

“His girlfriend moved in and Parker moved here to start his new job. She’s definitely helped him change his diet around. You can tell he’s lost some weight, not eating as much take-out. But he for sure doesn’t seem as happy as when Parker was visiting his apartment at two in the morning.”

“That’s a shame,” Parker said. Now that had me cracking up as I pulled into the Sub Daddy parking lot. Of course Parker would be upset to hear that all his hard work was being undone.

We went inside and ordered, and the four of them decided to split two sandwiches, which was funny because I ordered two sandwiches for myself. We sat and ate, the four of them passing tiny bags of chips back and forth to supplement their little sandwiches. After we finished eating I drove them back to their Airbnb. We made plans to meet up for brunch the next afternoon, and I was very interested to hear more about Parker as a sexy coed with feeder tendencies.

Parker was only slightly hungover the next morning. We hung out with his friends again in the afternoon. They mostly shared stories, while I mostly ate boujee brunch food. We said our goodbyes and they made plans to get together again soon. They all still lived in the old apartment, at least until their lease ended in the fall. Overall, the weekend had been a success, and I was sure Parker was excited to start his new position come Tuesday.

Monday he’d be training his replacement.

“So make sure his lunch is ordered at eleven so that he’s able to eat by noon,” Parker stated matter-of-factly. 

He had been with my new assistant all morning. She was a nice girl, and I could tell she was already a little overwhelmed by all the things Parker expected her to remember. I think Parker was sad to be shifting to a new position, even though he was really excited to be doing what he dreamed of. 

He would be on an entirely different side of the office. It was probably for the best that we had a bit of space from each other. We didn’t want to become one of those couples that couldn’t function without the other.

But still, he knew me better than anyone. I didn’t have to think about my next move because he’d already anticipate it. 

“Parker, can I see you in my office for a moment?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said before turning his attention to my new assistant. “Nicolette, we can go over the best times to schedule Mr. Reynolds for a meeting after you get back from your break.” She couldn’t grab her purse fast enough. She was probably going to be updating her LinkedIn and putting in applications on Indeed.

“You need to go a bit easier on her,” I said once we were behind closed doors. “Remember that's Hathaway’s great-niece.”

“I didn’t have anyone to show me the ropes when I started,” he said. “I just want to make sure she knows what to do so things go smoothly for you.”

“I’ll be okay, babe.”

“Fine. I’ll dial it back.”

“So how about a quickie for old time’s sake?” He laughed, but he immediately loosened his tie.

I ended up seated behind my desk with my pants around my ankles. He was completely nude, claiming he didn’t want to chance getting a stain on his clothes. He kneeled in front of me and reached into my desk drawer. He grabbed a tiny bottle of lube. He squirted a moderate amount in his palm before wrapping his hand around my erection. He pumped my dick slowly, covering it with the lube. 

I watched him stand with his back to me. I got to my feet, grabbing the bottle of lube from him and covering his hole with some of it, massaging it with my fingers. Being between his fat cheeks was always a pleasure. It was the only fatty part about him, and I loved grabbing his ass roughly in these moments. I bent my knees before angling my dick so there’d be a smooth entry and pushed my penis into him slowly. I leaned my body on top of him, my gut resting on his back as I rocked my hips back and forth. I felt his body relaxing as I found a good rhythm. I continued to thrust my hips and he did his best to stifle his moans.

“I’m your biggest success story,” I said breathily, pushing a bit more forcefully. “I just know your friends are going to be shocked the next time they see me.”

“Uh—” he whimpered, his knees buckling slightly.

“Say it,” I said. “Say that you’re gonna make me bigger.”

“I–I’m gonna make you bigger.” He tugged at his dick desperately. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“500 isn’t that far off,” I said, not entirely believing it myself. Would he want me to get that big? He did tell me that I was the biggest person he’d ever been with. Could he handle that? Could I?

“Oh fuck!” he panted, doing his best to catch his cum in his hand. I gave a few final pushes before filling him with my cum. I pulled myself from inside of him and we both got cleaned up. He got dressed, looking positively pristine, like nothing lewd had just taken place in my office. 

That’s when he turned to me and said, “I hope you’re ready for lunch.”

He had a look in his eye that let me know our sex talk wasn’t just talk. Parker had goals, and I liked a man with motivation.

I sure knew how to hire ‘em.

The End!

[peanutpinet]

My Forever Only - grumpy CEO! Jaehyun x sunshine fem reader

A/N: hi, I've been wanting to write a grumpy x sunshine trope for so long and what better way to write it for my friend @anya-writes-stuff on Tumblr whose birthday just passed! But this is also to everyone who has been struggling and going through uncertainties!

Warnings: toxic working environment, anxiety, sexual talking, cursing, some form of torture

Inspired by Ana Huang's Twisted Love and Twisted Lies

Synopsis: you were working under a company that was going to collaborate with Jaehyun but your ex-company wanted to sue you for something and when you suddenly weren’t the one that would help Jaehyun, he started to question about your presence and when he found out what actually happened, he was ready to make a move and make sure that your ex-company was going to burn for you

Finding a job is one problem. Hoping that the workload was bearable was another. But is getting a job and a decent workload really worth it when your environment is shitty? You were afraid of not doing well in your freelance and that your contract might be terminated so you slowly didn’t realise how much your boss was taking advantage of your skills and selflessness.

Well, it wasn’t until you changed from freelance to part-time, your boss was slowly “pressuring” you to do something that is completely out of your control and specifically requested that you handle it all that you started to realise that while in the beginning he was genuinely thankful for your hard work, ever since you actually worked more with him, he was slowly using you.

Because you didn’t want to disappoint your parents but can’t stand your toxic boss anymore, you secretly tried to look for a new job, hopefully, a full-time one. But it looks like that all the shitty things you had to endure were all worth it when you landed on what might be part of your dream job.

You have always loved being involved in creation; especially if it has something to do with the fashion, lifestyle or entertainment industry. Whether it is just creating ideas or stories that might seem cool to be executed or even execute your imagination. Now, you actually got to do what you love since you were accepted by a Korean fashion brand that you have been loving.

Of course, you were nervous on your first day. Like, who isn’t nervous about starting their first job at one of their dream companies and industry? Wanting to make a good first impression, you took one of your decent-looking top and bottom that fits perfectly with your curves and accentuated your body shape (note: everyone has their own preferences and you all look amazing with whatever you like to wear).

Thankfully, your dad agreed to drop you off on your first day just to make sure the place was correct and you wouldn’t waste any time. Upon arriving, the security guard made sure that you were meeting the HR which they confirmed (well, you still can’t believe you got accepted so you were definitely worried that the HR made a mistake).

Lucky enough, you didn’t mishear the HR and after 10 minutes of waiting, the HR came and brought you and another girl that just came to a room to review the contract for your work. In the midst of going through the contract, you and the girl, who you came to know by Nova, started to get to know each other because apparently, the two of you are going to be working under the same supervisor.

After getting to know the other divisions, you and Nova were brought to the highest floor and into the room where the two of you will be working together. The two of you got to know your supervisor and were immediately given your new laptops and emails. The two of you spent the first hour or so setting up your new emails and laptop, getting used to it and everything when the door opened and revealed a woman somewhat in her 40-50s and was wearing smart casual wear whereas a young man next to her looked to be in his 20s, wearing a casual white top with a denim jacket on top but somehow, looks like a model.

“Mrs Jung, Jaehyun, welcome. Oh, these are the new workers. Nova for social media and (Y/N) for marketing executive. Nova, (Y/N), this is Mrs Jung, she’s the brand owner and fashion designer whereas Jaehyun is her son, he works with brand partnerships, events, photoshoots, etc.” your supervisor, Doyoung announced

“Pleased to meet you girls. We’re happy to have you on board, especially with our new sister brand which Jaehyun will be handling. Also, it’s finally nice to have someone that’s around Jaehyun’s age. I hope that you all will get along with one another. I’m here to just watch over whilst Jaehyun go over about the sister brand and everything” Mrs Jung announced, taking her seat whilst Jaehyun was setting up his presentation

Because it was a sister brand, the fashion styles weren’t that far off from the parent brand. The main difference is that the sister brand’s target audience are millennials and under; the main reason why they’re starting to hire younger people like you and Nova. Long story short, Jaehyun had some of the designs and actual clothing ready and he wanted to have ideas of photoshoots and concepts on where the brand might lead.

Being someone who has been lurking around the fashion industry, getting to know the newest and latest trends, you suddenly pop up on the idea of a sister photoshoot. Somewhere along the lines of two sisters who have quite an age gap, the little sister always looking up to the aesthetic of the older sister and the older sister wanting to help the younger sister find her own style.

You had no idea how on earth you managed to speak up about that idea or how you managed to even continue the idea on the spot. In front of everyone. Especially who is practically your boss and the owner of the brand. What’s more is that the universe seems to be repaying all those hardships you went through because the next words that came out of Mrs Jung not only surprised you but everyone else in the room.

“That is quite the idea you have there, (Y/N). Because the aesthetics are similar and only the cutting and styling are different, that idea of yours might be a great start! What do you think, Jaehyun?” Mrs Jung asked

“It’s definitely something new and fresh. Do you think you can have some mood boards and storyboards sometime end of this week or next week?” Jaehyun asked out of the blue

“Yoonoh, I think that’s too early. You should show her your rough designs, the process of it all and the final product. Don’t just let the poor girl do everything blindly” Mrs Jung commented

“Yes. I will” Jaehyun stated firmly and suddenly his phone was shoved at your face. “Excuse, me?” you asked, looking up at Jaehyun who was staring down at you

“Your number. It’ll be easier for me to see if your vision is aligned with the brand rather than going back and forth through emails or Doyoung. Don’t be mistaken, you still have to get your his acceptance. I just want to make sure that you’re not going off-track or anything. Text me when you’ve finished your lunch, I’ll show you the rough sketches we did in the beginning” Jaehyun stated as you key in your number and handed it back to him as he bowed to everyone and headed out

“Well, that turned out better than I expected. Now, don’t feel pressured girls, it’s just your first day. Enjoy the process. Oh and (y/n), I apologise in advance if my son makes you feel pressured. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. He normally doesn’t agree with my comments like just now about your idea. He’d typically have a debate and ended up scaring my employees. He also practically never saves any employee’s number except your supervisor, his assistant who used to be his nanny, some of the managers and the COO. Just let me know if my son becomes a bit too much for you and I can’t wait to see your idea come to life!” Mrs Jung explained whereas you just paid attention and bowed when she left

Well, you might’ve “escaped” one problem but Jung Jaehyun just might change that. Or, he might actually show you the differences between toxic working culture and boss with a friendly environment where the heads of the company feel like your seniors from university.

Days have gone to weeks and suddenly you’ve already been working for nearly 3 months; which is basically your probation time under Jung Jaehyun. Throughout your probation, you‘ve been working closely with Jaehyun and you can say that he’s basically your boss and supervisor because the time you spend working with him is basically longer than with your own supervisor, Doyoung.

Throughout that time, you’ve come to unintentionally memorise his little habits. How he likes to order or make his coffee, that he almost never wears a suit and when he does, he always has to have someone help tie his tie; on occasion, that person is you. How he scrunched his nose whenever his glasses were slowly dropping. That he doesn't like to smile but that one time you defended him towards some rude business partners, Jung Jaehyun actually smiled and he had dimples!

There were ups and downs working directly under Jaehyun. But never once did he actually push you too far that would make you uncomfortable. He was also a reasonable and understanding man. He never took advantage of your skills and when there are things that you could actually do, Jaehyun would actually do them instead, making the excuse that he wanted to be more involved which made warmed your heart at the thought of a boss actually wanting to be hands-on even on some miscellaneous things.

Though the two of you rarely talked to each other except when it comes to work, it was a nice atmosphere. Sometimes when you had to work overtime with Jaehyun, he would ask what you like to eat and though it was probably different from what he was used to eating, he enjoyed the options that you give him. In return of his kindness, sometimes, when you arrive earlier, you would have his coffee order along with some pastries and a sticky note, telling him to eat breakfast.

Little did you know that Jaehyun was slowly warming up to you and your personality. He didn’t know what hit him but when you voiced out your opinion on your first day, Jaehyun was quite stunned. He wasn’t used to someone, especially someone new, showcasing their thoughts that easily. While asking for your number for work was his original purpose, Jaehyun can’t help but want to try and talk about other things than work with you. Those little texts asking what you typically like to eat, places you visit, and even university experience, they all might look like they’re related to work at first but in reality, it’s just an excuse for Jaehyun to talk to you.

After your probation, Jaehyun had to review your contract and determine whether you’ll get a raise or not. Which, after those 3 months, it was a simple decision on Jaehyun’s end. He already requested the HR and legal team to prepare for both you and Nova’s new contracts. Of course, there were some tweaks for both of you, mainly you because Jaehyun wanted you to officially work under him.

After reviewing the contract and being satisfied with it, Jaehyun was more than ready to personally hand you the new contract the following week. Unfortunately, his hopes were soon crashed when the HR informed him there was a problem with the previous “company” that you worked at as a part-timer and thus your contract had to be postponed.

“For fucks sake, I’m basically her boss. So tell me, what the fuck happened?! She ended her contract with her previous company/boss, which means that she’s able to work freely” Jaehyun growled, running his fingers through his hair, aggressively throwing his tie because he couldn’t tie it properly, especially when the tie reminds him of you

“The thing is sir, h-her previous boss suddenly wants to sue her for some ‘damage’ she caused for their company. I’m not sure what are they suing b-but…” the HR tried to explain but Jaehyun cuts her off immediately

“I want proof. An email, letter, something. Dig deep and find something. Get me Johnny, Yuta and Taeyong. Now. And also, tell Jaemin and Jeno to keep an eye on her, to update me on what’s going around” Jaehyun demanded, the HR immediately rushing out of Jaehyun’s office to get everything he needed

“Where are you?” Jaehyun texted you

“Sir? I informed the HR and Doyoung about my absence. I apologise for my carelessness. Please don’t wait on me. You should find someone else to replace me” you texted him back

“Find someone else, my ass” Jaehyun tsked at the message as Johnny, Yuta and Taeyong came

“You called us?” Johnny asked, Taeyong and Yuta following close behind

“Find out about her previous job, the contract between her and the company…” Jaehyun demanded, showing them everything that the HR emailed regarding your sudden situation

“Ahhh, the girl that’s been working under you for the past 3 months? The only girl in this office aside from your mom, your assistant whose number you saved?” Johnny questioned, smirking when he looked at the files in Jaehyun’s tab

“I want the information in 10 minutes. Taeyong, I need you to go over the contract to make sure if they truly have the right to sue her or something else. Yuta, hack into the communication application that they used, I want to make sure if something happened in those conversations” Jaehyun commanded and everyone immediately got to work

Though Jaehyun requested all the information within 10 minutes, Jeno and Jaemin were in the midst of keeping an eye on you at the same time trying to connect to your device to hopefully retrieve some information. After nearly half an hour, everyone finally got what Jaehyun wanted and after much reviewing, Jaehyun was more than ready to kill someone. If someone thought that he was furious before, he was practically crazy at the information he received because you were actually innocent and your previous boss/company was suing you out of pettiness.

“So basically, she was originally working freelance for the man then transitioned to part-time where he basically took advantage of her kindness and made her do much more work than what he paid for and even made her work on other days just because she was still doing her freelance work for him. Suing her is a very petty move considering that the company’s earnings were pretty much relying on the public, like the fashion industry so it’s very much subjective. The funny thing is that she already voiced out her opinion on how to improve but the boss was pretty much ignorant about her advice and now that he’s suffering the result, he’s trying to get back at her by suing her” Johnny summarised the entire situation

“Fucking hell. You guys can make sure that she wins the case, right?” Jaehyun questioned

“What do you take us for? This is child’s play, Jung. Just make sure that she’s alright. We’ll sort this out” Yuta replied, finishing writing some stuff for the case

“We’ll get Taeil and Jungwoo to help as well. There’s nothing you should worry about other than (Y/N)’s well-being. We’ll let everyone know that you took the rest of the day off” Taeyong added on

“Aside from this case, I don’t want anyone or anything else reaching my personal phone” Jaehyun stated, grabbing some of his things and walking out the door. “Oh, and guys. Find me the boss of her previous company, will you? Thanks” Jaehyun added

Never in his life did he think that he would be that person that would go out of their way, their comfort zone for someone else. Typically, other people would have to adapt to his way but you somehow made him adapt his life to revolve around you. Jaehyun didn’t know exactly when it happen. But one thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to allow the one person that is keeping him sane go just because of some petty person who can’t let go of you. Well, in all honesty, Jaehyun sure as hell wouldn’t want to let you go but he also wouldn’t do anything to sabotage or hurt you.

After a horrendous drive because of traffic, Jaehyun managed to arrive at your home which he found, courtesy of the HR. Ringing the doorbell, he was greeted by the sight of your casual self, wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts that fall right above your knee, you weren’t wearing any makeup but to Jaehyun, you still look stunning.

“Hi” Jaehyun breathed out. “Hi. Are you here to take the company laptop back?” you asked

“W-what?! No. I’m here to take you back. Well, perhaps not immediately. What I’m trying to say is that your suing case is being handled. So, please, come back and work. Work for me” Jaehyun pleaded, almost sounding as if he was begging

“What?! What do you mean? What did you do?” you asked, so many thoughts running through your head that you had to sit down to process what Jaehyun just said

“I know what happened. I mean, I know about your previous company suing you. Technically I’m your boss so I have to know these things but when we dug deeper into the actual situation, he doesn’t have the rights to sue you. But since he did, he won’t win. I’ve made sure of it” Jaehyun explained, sitting in front of you and grabbed your hands in his

“S-sir?” you stuttered. “Jaehyun. Just, call me Jaehyun from now. I, there’s something I want to tell you that I’ve been meaning to tell you for quite some time” Jaehyun started, his breathing got heavier and his voice was not as smooth like usual

“I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the first day you came and stunned me with your voiced-out opinion. Or maybe it was during that time you defended me against the rude business partners. Or even when we were sitting on the floor in my office, eating takeouts while watching Disney movies. But one thing for sure is that somewhere along the line, I fell for you. Your cheerful, optimistic, selfless personality. I can’t imagine what the office or myself would be like without you. You’re basically the light to my darkness. Without you, I’d be lost. As much as I want you to be mine, I don’t want you to do it because you were forced to. But whatever happens, please stay. I’d do anything for you so that you’ll stay. Worried about the suing case, I’ve got it covered. Unsure about your career paths? I’ll help you go through each one until you find the one that you like. Worried financially? I’ll take care of you. I’d do it, for you” Jaehyun confessed, bringing your hands closer to his lips until he was kissing your knuckles

“S-sir, I mean, Jaehyun. I, I don’t know what to say. I mean, I used to think that you were so cold and closed from everyone that I almost find it impossible to approach you. But that time the business partners were rude to you, it just, it was out of the line. Sure you were cold and seemed a bit mean, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have feelings either. Plus, you were considerate of your employees. You didn’t push people or force them to do anything they were uncomfortable with and I, I appreciate that. Also, the fact that you were considerate in giving leaves to your employees and secretly worked overtime so your employees don’t have to. And I guess, somewhere, down the line, I might’ve also slowly liked you” you slowly confessed to Jaehyun who suddenly pulled you into his lap

“Y-you’re serious right?! You’re not playing with me right now” Jaehyun questioned, looking into your eyes, worried that it was just some sort of dream

“H-honestly, I thought you were the one that was joking with me. I mean, you were quite cold but because of your warm behaviour, I found myself slowly liking you that I’m not sure if it was possible to get close to you” you stuttered, wrapping your arms around Jaehyun’s neck unconsciously

“I’m glad that I came over then. You don’t have anything to worry about, okay? I’ll take care of you” Jaehyun breathed, both your foreheads touching

“Jae…w-what if you’re the one that gets sued?” you asked, gripping his shirt

“It’ll be fine. Trust me. They won’t get to me. They made a mistake for suing you, for nearly taking you away from me. But let’s not worry about that right now. I want to spend the rest of the night with my girlfriend. Let me make dinner this time, okay?” Jaehyun smiled, kissing your forehead

To say that you weren’t expecting that day to happen was definitely an understatement. The entire week, your anxiety was building up from receiving the message about your previous boss suing you, your work piled up, having to tell the HR about the situation and even making a decision on continuing after your probation ended or not. At first, you really did think of leaving because you didn’t want to be a burden for Jaehyun, plus it would probably help you get rid of the feelings you had for him.

But on the other hand, you were glad that Jaehyun found out about the situation. Seeing him arrive at your home and confess everything lifted a heavy weight on your shoulder. You never imagined that you would actually confess your own feelings to Jaehyun but here the two of you are, in your kitchen, making dinner together.

“What got you all smiling all of a sudden?” Jaehyun asked, placing the dishes on the table

“I’m just. Happy. This all feels so surreal. You have no idea what I’ve been thinking the past week” you replied, leaning onto Jaehyun’s shoulder

“As much as I want to know what is in that pretty little mind of yours, I think it’s a topic saved for next time. Also, you have no idea how much you made me happy” Jaehyun cooed at you melting in his embrace as he placed a kiss on your forehead

By the end of the night, you and Jaehyun cleaned up and then watch some movies whilst cuddling under a blanket. When you started to feel sleepy, Jaehyun helped carry you up to your room and laid you on the bed, making you giggle.

“The back pain was definitely worth that smile” Jaehyun chuckled, sitting at the edge of your bed

“Well, let me help you out with that” you giggled but helped massage Jaehyun’s shoulders and his back that was tensing

You could tell that Jaehyun wasn’t used to the somewhat intimate interaction with his tensed back but slowly, he relaxed his shoulders and enjoyed the massage you were given. The silence between the two of you was a nice silence, well, until Jaehyun turned to look at you that just stopped your movements.

“W-what?” you asked, heat slowly rising to your cheeks when you realised how close the two of you were

“You’re just breathtaking, even in your casual wear and no makeup. You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back” Jaehyun stated, cupping your cheeks. “Th-then…don’t” you managed to breathe out before Jaehyun slowly pulled you in and closed the gap between you two

The kiss was actually something you did not imagine. You would think that someone that seemed cold as Jaehyun would be a bit rough or awkward but this kiss wasn’t any of that. Instead, it brought warmth to the two of you, like the two of you were destined to complement one another. The grumpy boss with the sunshine employee, the cold attitude with the carefree one.

“Promise that you’ll be my forever only?” Jaehyun asked, pulling away from the kiss

“If you promise to stay and not take advantage of me” you replied, your tone was a bit worrying but Jaehyun left a lingering kiss on your forehead

“Trust me, peach, you’re the only woman that I have eyes for, the only woman that I actually went out of my way to pursue. 사랑해 또 사랑해” Jaehyun replied back, capturing your lips on his again

Bonus scene :D because I want to (Jaehyun’s POV)

The night that I stayed over at (Y/N) felt like a dream that I don’t want to wake up from, that I want to relive every day. Days turn to weeks and (Y/N) came back to work for me, practically also being my assistant. The hard-ass days of work didn’t seem to bother me when I know that she was here, with me.

Unfortunately, when I received a message from Johnny regarding (Y/N)’s previous boss, the one that sued her, bitterness immediately drenched me. I had nearly forgotten about it had Johnny not texted me about it. Sighing, I opened the message from Johnny.

Johnny: I got the guy, took two weeks to track him down but we managed to get him. He’s in the basement, text me when you want to you know…

Jaehyun: why do you always have to ruin my good mood?

Johnny: hey, you already got the girl. It’s not like she’s gonna go anywhere. Well, unless you suddenly scare her

Jaehyun: funny. I’ll be there after work today. I just need to tell (y/n) that there’s a sudden meeting with you then probably ask Sungchan to drop her off

Johnny: she really has you wrapped around her finger, hasn’t she? You’re whipped

Jaehyun: I’ll see you after work, don’t forget to bring Yuta, Jeno and Jaemin.

After my short text with Johnny, (y/n) came into the room with lunch. Thankfully, I was good at switching my emotions. Especially when I started to date (y/n). Whenever I see or even just hear her, my mood immediately lightens up.

It has become known around the office that (y/n) and I are a thing and while some employees became jealous and even tried to get one of us to break, I immediately made them back off unless of course, they wanted to be sent out the door.

The two of us ate lunch whilst going through some of the new projects and collaborations, occasionally ditching work and just feeding each other, talking about our day which reminded me that I had to tell (y/n) that I had a sudden “meeting” with Johnny and told her that I’ll have Sungchan drop her off. She ended the lunch by pecking my lips and telling me not to overwork and that she’ll leave some dinner for me.

The rest of the day was nothing special other than (y/n) visiting me before she left to go home first. As much as I was tempted to just leave Johnny and the rest handle her ex-boss, I too wanted my fair share of “teaching” him a lesson about hurting someone I care and love. Sighing, I reluctantly pulled away from our kiss and send (y/n) off with Sungchan.

After receiving a message from Johnny that he and the others are waiting, I changed my clothing to a basic all-black outfit because there will probably be some bloodshed. Putting on my gloves, I made my way to the basement and opened the door, seeing Johnny, Yuta, Jeno and Jaemin at the center of the room with who seems to be (y/n)’s ex-boss.

I made my way in front of the man who was bounded onto the chair, with duct tape around his lips to seal his mouth. I roughly pulled the tape off which caused the man to scream. “Are you done screaming?” I questioned, standing back up and looking down at the man

“Who the hell are you people?! What do you think you’re doing?! Just wait till someone finds me, I’ll…” the man shouted and I shot a bullet that grazed his ear

“You’ll sue me? Like you sued my girlfriend because you were petty about her suddenly leaving you? Move on, man. You’re the one that took advantage of her. Which you probably didn’t realise because you were enjoying yourself while she did all the work for you” I scoffed at the memory of all the conversations (y/n) had with him

“You meant (y/n)? She left my business for you? What, the two of you suddenly met, had good sex and slept together? Is that why she suddenly left? What a pathetic b—” the man didn’t even get to finish his sentence because I had punched him with my brass knuckles

“You don’t get to say her name. Especially in here. And here’s another fact. You don’t own her. She’s her own person who just happens to be mine. And you know what I hate the most?” I yanked his hair back so I could get a better look at his beaten face. “I hate when someone hurts someone that I treasure, that I love” I growled, pushing his head as I walked over to grab a blade

“You got lucky that you didn’t go too far. Lucky for you that she’s nice enough to tell me to just tell you to cancel the lawsuit. Unfortunately. I’m not her. Let this be a lesson, hmm? Don’t. Come. For. What. Is. Mine. I assure you that next time, you won’t be as lucky” I stated, piercing the blade into his hands, pushing through the flesh and bones

A/N: I hope that this wasn't a bit much. Hope that everyone has been well and enjoyed the fic! As usual, stay safe and healthy! I'll talk to you guys in the next one! :) xoxo Vinet

[w1ldthoughts]

The Forgotten One Chapter Two:

Love on the Brain

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Description of injuries, medical procedures and a slight mention of an experience with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.

A/n: This story will be emotional and reference a lengthy healing journey. I did do research on the medical side of things but some things needed to be tweaked for fictional and entertainment purposes.

Three days after the accident is when he saw you for the first time. Clay and his dad helped him out of bed and his mom wheeled him next door to your room. Both of your parents were there, standing up to give him a hug and asking how he was feeling, like everyone had been doing every hour since he woke up.

“Have they come in to give you any updates?” He asks immediately when they stepped aside, allowing him to see you. The sight in front of him almost rendered him physically sick. Although you were no longer intubated or on the ventilator and you were breathing on your own, you still hadn’t woken up. A fat purple bruise surrounded your left eye and another one called the upper part of your right arm its home. “Why is her leg propped up?” Jack croaks out, not daring to take his eyes off of you.

The doctor comes in before anyone else in the room can answer. “It’s nice to see you out and about Mr. Harlow. Miss [your last name] is recovering from an endovascular embolization. She had a subarachnoid hemorrhage that was very small and we were able to make an incision in the groin to access an artery and thread it through to the desired area. The entire procedure only took about 25 minutes and we were able to successfully close the blood vessels and stop the bleeding.”

“Now, we just wait and see. Her brain and body have had time to rest and recover so when she wakes up, which we are hoping will be sometime in the next few days, that’s when we’ll know the severity of the injury.”

Five days after the accident, Jack was discharged from the hospital and was forced to go home and shower. The house was eerily silent as he left Clay and Urban downstairs so he could get ready and grab his stuff. He closed his eyes, battling to settle his breathing as he stood under the water. There were flashes of that night, the feeling of his body being violently jerked around from side to side, the sheer feeling of horror at his inability to control the situation. Even though he knew it was irrational, he blamed himself. And he found himself trembling, letting the tears flow freely as he steadied his shivering body by placing his hands on the wall in the midst of the hot stream beating down his back.

He didn’t want to do any of this without you and he was deathly afraid that he might have to.

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asks you, holding one of your hands in both of his, after your family had given him some time alone. The doctors had encouraged people to come in and speak with you, both for your sake and theirs. Jack was ready to take any opportunity he could to connect with you, from wherever you currently were. “I definitely remember the first time I saw you. The new HR Executive fresh out of school, playing babysitter to the head of the division, bringing him his favorite gummy bears and getting his coffee and other useless shit.”

Six years earlier…

You were really starting to hate your dream job. Both you and Cleo, your new best friend as a result of your shared trauma, were hired as assistant human resource officers for the head of the HR department Grant Young. The two of you affectionately called him “cabbage patch” because his features reminded you of a Cabbage Patch Kid. When you weren’t updating company policies or making sure that employees were actually getting the benefits that were promised to them, you and Cleo were cabbage patch’s errand girls. There was less and less human resource management and more picking up dry cleaning and walking his dogs.

“It’s feeling like we’re lap dogs and not actual employees. My business degree is going to waste and I swear to God if I pick up another bag of dog poop I’m going to smear it all over that man’s desk.” Cleo cries into her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “We are severely underpaid and working way too hard on things that are not our actual jobs y/n. I’m sick of it.”

“I’m not the biggest fan of our arrangement either but we have to pay our dues. Maybe he will realize that our talent is being wasted and it’ll—

Your phone rings, interrupting the pep talk.

“Hello? Yes Mr. Young, of course I can. I’ll be right up.”

Cleo rolls her eyes. “What does the warden want from you now?”

“Headmaster is in a meeting with the CEO and needs me to grab the summary report that he printed off. Because God forbid he come prepared to these things.” You sigh, taking one more bite if your food before making your exit. “I’ll be back.”

“Tell the CEO I said hi. I’ve seen pictures of him on billboard around the city and holy fuck he’s fine.”

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you tell her “I’ll let him know you’re single, see how that goes.”

The first thing you heard when you made your way up to the 18th floor is a booming voice.

“Do you honestly think that this is okay? You’re wasting my fucking time here, Grant.” The voice exclaims.

“Mr. Harlow you don’t understand. My aunt, she’s very sick and I’m going to need to fly home for foreseeable future to be with her.”

The voice lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. “You can have as much time as you need. And pack up your shit while you’re at it. We’re done here.”

“W—Wait,” your boss stutters, “you can’t be serious. I—I love this job and I need it. Please, just let me make it up to you when I come back, I’ll have my assistants take care of everything and—”

“Grant. You’re done here. I’ll give you an hour to clear everything out. You’re free to go, please close the door on your way out. Matter fact, I’ll walk you out.” You can hear the sound of the wheels on the chair rolling around. Mr. Young is near tears when the door is open and your ice meet these icy blue ones that immediately had you looking at the floor, the air in the hallway suddenly felt a little stuffier. He stopped you as you turn to follow your now former boss down the stairs. “Did you need something?” His voice was still tense, a subtle angry vein popping out of his neck as he took a breath.

“Um, sorry sir. I just brought the summary sheets that Mr. Young asked for.” You handed him the sheet and he gently grabbed it out of your shaky hand.

He gave a dry chuckle. “Please, call me Jack. And what should I call you, summary sheet girl?”

I’d rather call you a dickwad, you thought to yourself. “I’m y/n.” You replied dryly. “I should get going, have a great day Mr. Harlow.” Giving him a tight lipped smile, you pushed the button on the elevator, hitting your head on the wall at the thought of working for an actual demon from hell. What kind of person fires someone over taking time off for a sick family member?

“Do you remember that day in the hall? You looked at me like I was a monster. Hated me for the next year. Maybe even a little more. And then we made fun of him over dinner some time after when you found out his aunt Joan gets sick around the same time every year and it was actually code for ‘I’m going to play in a golf in Santa Monica.’” He laughed, getting a little choked up. “Y/n I—I can’t lose you. I’m not strong enough for that. Baby, you gotta wake up. You have to because—” one of his hands came up to cover his mouth as he cried.

There was no movement from you on the bed. He hoped that it would be like the movies, he’d be sobbing at your bedside and you'd open your eyes and reassure him that everything would be okay. But it didn’t happen. He sniffed and grabbed a Kleenex to wipe his nose and took a minute to collect himself.

He took hold of your hand again and held it against his cheek. “You need to wake up because I love you. I need to propose and I need to do it right so I can spend all of eternity getting on your nerves and we can ride off into the sunset together.”

“So please,” he whispers, his bottom lip quivering, “please don’t leave me.”

Eight days after the accident your hospital room could compete with any florist within a 30 mile radius. It could also double as a balloon store. Any and every visitor you had brought a gift. Urban even tried to sneak in a few edibles for you when you were awake but your boyfriend told him not to. And then Clay left the room crying because he wanted his sister back and that was another jab to your boyfriend’s chest.

He was sitting in your room with Cleo absentmindedly scrolling through the tv channels after begging your parents to go to his house and sleep in actual beds for a few hours. Everyone was running on fumes, having literally memorized every square inch of your hospital room floor so it was necessary to take a break from it for a while and get some air. Cleo stood up to rearrange the mountain of presents near the window. She dropped a box of chocolate on the floor and the two swore they saw you move at the sound. And then she saw it, your hand moved.

“Y/n? Can you hear me?” Cleo rushes out, her thoughts of organizing long gone. They waited a bit for another sign, something—anything.

And then your eyes slowly fluttered open and you gave Cleo a warm smile. Jack let out a breath of relief, sitting at the side of the bed and wiped at the fresh set of tears that made their way down his face at the sight of you.

You gave him a look of bewilderment when he sat down. “Cleo…” you whisper, “why is our boss’s boss here?”

He felt like the room was spinning and he was going to pass out. Cleo immediately pressed the call button to alert the staff while Jack got on the phone to let your family know you were awake. They had already been heading back so they arrived a few minutes later, meeting the doctors as they examined you.

Dr. Byers led your parents and Jack outside to deliver the news. Cleo stayed behind to keep you company. “Physically, she’s recovering nicely as we hoped. A bit ahead of schedule even. But she has still suffered an intense trauma to the brain and is suffering from what is most likely post traumatic amnesia where her mind is protecting her from remembering the pain of the accident. It seems to have also erased the last few years of her life.”

“Will she—is she ever going to remember everything?” Your mom asks, looking towards Jack in a way that reeked of pity. Something he’d never experienced before.

“It depends on the situation, sometimes people recover their memories all at once, or in short bursts. It could take a few months, years or not at all. You’ll just have to be patient with her.”

Meanwhile you were nursing a minor headache and a shock to the system. “Me and Jack? Together? Like…together together?” You asked with surprise lacing your tone, rubbing your temples. Maybe you should’ve just stayed asleep.

Just as Cleo was about to respond, your family came in and showered you with love as Jack stood behind them unsure of what to do. Your best friend took him downstairs to grab a coffee and take a walk.

He came back an hour later and let you know he was leaving and that he had to see you in person to let everyone at work know that you were awake and doing better. You stopped him before he could head out the door.

“Cleo told me why you’re really here. Four years Jack? We’ve been together for four fucking years? That means the last thing I remember is from five years ago.” You felt your throat closing up. “I’m so sor—”

“You better not be apologizing to me about a traumatic brain injury that you didn’t ask for.” He states with a dry laugh. “None of this is your fault, okay? None of it. And don’t worry about anything, we’ll figure it out as we go. Cleo’s here, your family is here and I’ll be here for you as well, in any capacity you’re comfortable with.”

Jack sat in the chair next to your bed and continued, “I don’t want you to think that we have to be in a relationship just because that’s what you were told. We can just take life one day at a time.”

Taglist

@killatravtramp

@jackharloww

@harlowcomehome

@middlechild404

@iknowdatsrightbih

@itsyagirljaz

@alimaythings

[autismserenity]

Okay, I'm a data nerd. But this is so interesting?!

She starts out by looking at whether YouTube intense promotion of short-form content is harming long-form content, and ends up looking at how AI models amplify cultural biases.

In one of her examples, Amazon had to stop using AI recruitment software because it was filtering out women. They had to tell it to stop removing resumes with the word "women's" in them.

But even after they did that, the software was filtering out tons of women by doing things like selecting for more "aggressive" language like "executed on" instead of, idk, "helped."

Which is exactly how humans act. In my experience, when people are trying to unlearn bias, the first thing they do is go, "okay, so when I see that someone was president of the women's hockey team or something, I tend to dismiss them, but they could be good! I should try to look at them, instead of immediately dismissing candidates who are women! That makes sense, I can do that!"

And then they don't realize that they can also look at identical resumes, one with a "man's" name and one with a "woman's" name, and come away being more impressed by the "man's" resume.

So then they start having HR remove the names from all resumes. But they don't extrapolate from all this and think about whether the interviewer might also be biased. They don't think about how many different ways you can describe the same exact tasks at the same exact job, and how some of them sound way better.

They don't think about how, the more marginalized someone is, the less access they have to information about what language to use. And the more likely they are to have been "trained," by the way people treat them, to minimize their own skills and achievements.

They don't think about why certain words sound polished to them, and whether that's actually reflecting how good the person using that language will be at their job.

In this How To Cook That video, she talks about the fact that they're training that type of software on, say, ten years of hiring data, and that inherently means it's going to learn the biases reflected in that data... and that what AI models do is EXAGGERATE what they've learned.

Her example is that if you do a Google image search for "doctor," 90% of them will be men, even though in real life only 63% are men.

This is all fascinating to me because this is why representation matters. This is such an extreme, obvious example of why representation matters. OUR brains look at everything around us and learn who the world says is good at what.

We learn what a construction worker looks like, what a general practitioner doctor looks like, what a pediatrician looks like, what a teacher looks like.

We look at the people in our lives and in the media we consume and the ambient media we live through. And we learn what people who matter in our particular society look like.

We learn what a believable, trustworthy person looks like. The kind of person who can be the faux-generic-human talking to you about or illustrating a product.

Unless we also actively learn that other kinds of people matter equally, are equally trustworthy and believable... we don't.

And that affects EVERYTHING.

Also, this seems very easy to undo -- for AI, at least.

Like, instead of giving it a dataset of all the pictures of doctors humans have put out there, they could find people who actively prefer diverse, interesting groups of examples. And give the dataset to a bunch of them, first, to produce something for AI to learn from.

Harvard has a whole slew of really good tests for bias, although I would love to see more. (Note: they say things like "gay - straight, " but it's not testing how you feel about straight people. It's testing whether you have negative associations about gay people, and it uses straight people as a kind of baseline.)

There must be a way for image-recognition AI software to take these tests and reveal how biased a given model is, so it can be tweaked.

A lot of people would probably object that you're biasing the model intentionally if you do that. But we know the models are biased. We know we all have cultural biases. (I mean. Most people know that, I think.)

Anyway, this is already known in the field. There are plenty of studies about the biases in different AI programs, and the biases humans have.

That means we're already choosing to bias models intentionally. Both by knowingly giving them our biases, and by knowing they'll make our biases even bigger. And we already know this has a negative impact on people's lives.

[jjsanguine]

I've never had a white collar job and I'm also not a film analysis person so I've spent a lot of the time I've been watching Step By Step like, I don't know enough about offices to know some of the perplexing directions the plot/characters have gone in this show are what would naturally arise from working in such an environment, or if the writing + pacing are just frustrating.

I think the pacing especially is what's making the narrative just unspool in front of my eyes, because ferso I don't think you'd need to change any of the plot points to have a show that isn't frustrating.

I'm especially perplexed by how slow the slow burn was because Jeng didn't want to do a HR violation by dating Pat,,, only for Jeng to have been artistically engineering Pat's workplace success this while time so they would have more opportunities to hang out and Pat might like him back enough to want to date anyway. That seems like a a worse thing ethically them if they had just started secretly dating almost immediately like in A Boss And A Babe.

I'm not really surprised that Jeng control freak Kittipong would do such. But like what Jeng did to Pat by using his own money doesn't seem like a resolvable in one episode thing you get me. That feels like a ½ the runtime type of problem, it's literally the entire foundation of Jeng and Pat's relationship since Jeng knew Pat was going to be his employee.

Jeng + Pat's romantic relationship unspooled after only a few months 3 I think because Jeng refused to try to address or even talk about any of the exponentially growing number of obstacles to their relationship and Pat realised he's really not about that after briefly getting back with Put — which, controversial opinion, is totally fine actually !

Even Jeng + Pat's months long dating relationship being compressed into 2 episodes where basically all the audience sees is that they do a lot of unsubtle workplace flirting and have a lot of sex would be totally fine,,, if there were like 5ish episodes left for dealing with the fallout of that + how a second chance romance would even work when Pat's been burned by a controlling ex before. Twice.

Like *could* it take Jeng 2 years to really internalise that people get very upset when their agency is removed, given that it took him until he was in his 30s before trying to manipulate people like the wire stems in a bouquet of fake flowers ever blew up in his face quite so spectacularly? Yes. Is the audience going to see any of that journey? No.

*Could* it take 2 years of Pat working somewhere unaffiliated with Jian group, struggling with starting from square 1 as an intern, ignoring everyone's work advice again he's desperate to prove himself, especially ignoring Jeng's work advice because it's from Jeng specifically, taking Jeng's advice again because he's cooled down enough from the situation to not recoil from all things Jeng, to actually being open to have a relationship (not necessarily romantic one at first but just like, more than radio silence) with Jeng again? Probably. Will the audience see Pat's journey? No.

Therein lies the frustration. Premise good, execution eh.

[subhwanti123]

HR Recruiter ADMIN Administration Executive, HR Admin Executive

SUBHWANTI GROUP OF INSTITUTIONS

Candidate screening, interviewing and onboarding

Handle employee engagement

Provide administrative support

Coordinating office activities

I am a full-time recruiter / HR / Admin job for candidates with 3 years or above. Nitish Kumar Speak with the employer +918114541844 Email- directorsgibihar@gmail.com Address:- 2nd Floor, Madhuri Bhawan, Jamal Road, Patna-800001

More about this HR Manager job Please go through the FAQs to get all answers related to the given HR Manager job

What are the eligibility criteria to apply for this HR Manager job? Ans: The candidate should have an MBA and above and with 3 years or above.

What salary can I expect for this job role? Ans: You can expect a salary of ₹20000 - ₹30000 per month, depending on your interview. It's a full-time job in Patna.

How many working days are there for this HR Manager job? Ans: This HR Manager job will take 6 working days.

Are there any charges applicable while applying for or joining this HR Manager job? Ans: No, there is no fee applicable for applying for this HR Manager job and during employment with the company, i.e., SUBHWANTI GROUP OF INSTITUTIONS.

Is it a work-from-home job? Ans: No, it’s not a work-from-home job and can't be done online.

How many openings are there for this HR Manager role? Ans: There is an immediate opening for 1 HR Manager at SUBHWANTI GROUP OF INSTITUTIONS

Who can apply for this job? Ans: Only Female candidates can apply for this Recruiter / HR / Admin job.

What are the timings of this HR Manager job? Ans: This HR Manager job has 10:00 AM - 06:00 PM timing. Key Skills HR Recruiter, ADMIN Administration Executive HR Admin Executive

Candidates can call HR for more info Contact Person Nitish Kumar Speak with the employer +918114541844 Email- directorsgibihar@gmail.com Address:- 2nd Floor, Madhuri Bhawan, Jamal Road, Patna-800001

[donnerpartyofone]

I had a dream that I had gotten heavily into a (fictional) indie rock band with a lot of thoughtful, poignant lyrics about life and relationships and stuff. I was telling people, "I don't usually listen to anything like this, but this is so good, it's my new favorite thing!" In reality I haven't listened to anything like that in years.

I started removing myself from poignant, thoughtful music about life and relationships and stuff during and after my Very Abusive Relationship, which semi-permanently alienated me from most forms of sentimental, romantic media--ESPECIALLY media that romanticizes destructive obsessions and shitty behavior, which is practically all media as you may have immediately realized. That stuff used to be fun before I actually lived through it and realized that it's always about infantile egomania and that I actually hate people who have to hurt others in order to feel like they have the slightest shred of efficacy/value/relevance in their own narrow little lives (which is a surprising number of people btw). The /bad romance/ thing seems so monolithic, like the biggest most desirable thing in the world, until you get right up close with your nose to it and you realize it's made out of particle board and vinyl siding and it has to be that big to cast an obscuring shadow over a whole lot of adult babies (sorry, adult baby community, I actually don't mean you) who are hoping you won't notice how spineless and pathetic they are. Spending a few years with someone who made it his business to scare the shit out of me and try to ruin my life, fairly publicly, had the one-two punch of making me feel like I simply wasn't good enough to be in one of those dark and brooding romances because otherwise why would he try to convince me I was nothing--and conversely, leaving me totally disillusioned about dark and brooding romances because I had been up close and seen how the sausage was made and it's not remotely as exotic and delicious as people try to tell you it is. It's just off-brand baby food, left on the shelf long past its expiry.

Right after that was over another factor pulled me away from poignant, thoughtful music about life and relationships and stuff, which was working in an open-plan office next to the tech guy pool. Us sensitive, artistic nerds in the production department had a pretty high-stress job that required constant focus, and we were pretty much only ever noticed by the overlords if one of us screwed something up; we were constantly being monitored not just for poor performance, but for potential political incorrectness or any little thing that could be construed as an HR problem--and in the meantime, the tech guys were literally screaming misogynistic jokes and racial slurs and throwing shit at each other, sometimes hitting us or our computers, but the executives had this hypnosis telling them that tech guys are Valuable so everything they do is OK forever. One of my main coping mechanisms was to get heavily into metal and harsh noise: anything with a cathartically brutal wall-of-sound quality and no discernible lyrics to speak of, that prevented me from having to hear anyone around me or even think about other people and their emotions. This kind of music became a huge passion for me, so in a way it was a net positive experience.

Nowadays I don't have a lot of time for music, which seems crazy even to me, like I don't want to be one of those sociopaths who say they don't listen to music! I just have to spend a LOT of time watching movies, when I have time for A/V entertainment, and I don't drive or have a commute anymore, so that's pretty limiting. When I do have time for music, it's a weird 7-10 split of trashy hype dance music like Atari Teenage Riot or Rob Zombie (or other things I'm too embarrassed to mention atm) to burn off my anxiety and give me a temporary ego boost that I can feel ashamed of later, and on the other hand, really heady, long ambient or experimental compositions, preferably with no vox. I think I'd like to get more into jazz and classical music and I occasionally go down a youtube rabbit hole that I really enjoy, but not much sticks because it turns into information overload and I get distracted.

Sometimes for whatever neurotic reason I have this allergic reaction to our collective preciousness about Human Drama, like why don't we have anything better to think about? There's some Herzog quote, I won't know how to find it, where he wonders why people always make movies about interpersonal problems, why not the drama of insect life, of cellular activities, of geological metamorphosis? And I really feel that way, often. But for some reason I am now dreaming that I've found some thoughtful, poignant indie rock band with lyrics about life and relationships and stuff that I cannot get enough of and I'm telling the world. I wonder what shifted to make me imagine that.

[swearingcactus]

you've heard of ajay and jason co-workers au now get ready for... Far Cry Ltd. (now everyone is co-workers.)

It's a logistics and security company

Hoyt is the COO and everyone knows he's using the cargos to smuggle sketchy things too but they can't really prove it

Vaas is head of the security team who Hoyt scouted from a rival security company (now run by Citra)

Pagan's dad used to be the biggest stakeholder of the company and that's how he got the job as CMO

Despite being CMO he kinda hands most of his business decisions to his executive assistant Yuma, marketing manager Paul "de Pleur" Harmon, and PR manager Noore Najjar.

The FC5 cast are divided into both divisions/neither.

John works for a third party legal corporation that is the representative for Far Cry Ltd. -- he acts all buddy buddy with the sherrifs and deputies when they come knocking.

Jacob works with Vaas in security.

Faith works with Noore in PR.

Joseph is the office cryptid because nobody really knows what he does or if he even works in the building but legend says sometimes if you pee at odd hours you can hear "I see you, child." from one of the stalls.

HR has been notified.

the CEO barely shows his face but his pre-teen son Diego occassionally hangs around in the office, probably as a way to intimidate people to work. it doesn't really work cus Diego is just awkwardly standing there while most people get annoyed he's breathing down their necks.

Jason is a security analyst who got in the company to work under Vaas on a mission by Citra to spy on how he does things and report back to her but he's a horrible actor and everyone knows.

also Vaas enjoys making him do assistant shit

Ajay's official title is a pretty high-ranking job but his time is devoted to just dousing office dramas and fixing shitty data entry for the accounting team (who's been focusing more in their power-struggle between Sabal and Amita, the two top accountants instead of actually doing decent work) to prevent a full-blown IRS audit

Ajay doesn't even want this job but he got it after his mom pulled some strings with her old flame Pagan and it feels a little awkward and shitty to just quit so soon after her death

Dani is an intern in the warehousing units who regrets picking this company and is about to kill her counselor: Juan, who recommended her to work here

Ajay and Jason take smoke breaks together and bitch about their division and when Dani found their secret bitching spot accidentally she's immediately part of the gang

[hypaalicious]

I just got fired from my job today and like... im gonna be okay but god.. this wouldn't happen to Ignis

Getting fired does not feel good, and that really sucks 😩 I hope you aren’t taking it as a reflection of your self worth, because these jobs don’t give af about us, frfr. We’re just cogs in a machine.

Want me to tell you how I got fired from my job I gave 7 years to? Maybe it’ll make you feel better!

TL;DR: I mouthed off to an insufferable executive, she reported me to HR, and they fired me. But she got fired too shortly after 😂

Aiight, so boom:

Idk if folks remember but I worked at a casino and moved up from a basic customer service job to a supervisor of that department, then finally an office job with the executives. The group of us had a really nice relationship; pretty casual, went to lunch together, etc. Like, I would have called my boss my friend if I wasn’t very adamant of keeping lines drawn via work power balances.

But… we all got too comfortable with each other, and when it came down to it, I was the only one expendable.

One of the executives was… she wasn’t a good person, tbh. Lol she was very petty, very shallow, made things really hard for our creative team. She had been reported to HR multiple times for inappropriate comments but like outside of a slap on the wrist, she was untouchable because she was besties with the CEO.

Anyway, COVID hit, and shit got real. Most of us stayed in office to work. During lunch one day, this executive’s doctor called her and left a voicemail to get back to him immediately. We were all like ?? but figured she had it covered.

Then, she called out of work a few days later. And then a week passed and she still ain’t show up. They did a deep clean of the cafeteria that we were all at and roped it off.

So yeah, she came down with the rona. Which is ironic because when the pandemic first hit she scoffed at it and was like, “I’m just gonna live my life, ya know?” And I guess life said:

So yeah. Work wise, things went a lot smoother with her gone. I was more involved with the creative team and got shit done without ruffling their feathers. More people from other departments that this executive had pissed off in the past started coming around more. It was the golden age of productivity. LOL

Well, my boss also had her added on IG. And she was pissed cause while she was out with COVID, she’s posting herself going on walks with her dog, going to the gym (unmasked), doing yoga… basically living it up for the gram. We were pissed, lmao.

Anyway after a month and a half, she shows back up to the office. Nobody is really happy about it but oh well. I go into her office to say welcome back.

My pettycopter flew cause I opened my mouth and said, “hey Typhoid Mary, how’s it going?”

She laughed, I laughed, we chatted for awhile, I caught her up on the work we did for her while she was out, that was it. She left her office shortly after.

Well, later that day, my boss comes in my office shaking. I have never seen her that mad. I ask her what’s up, and she tells me “that bitch reported you to HR over a joke” and that I’m suspended until she can pull whatever strings she can to get me back in office. I just nod, pack up my immediate things and leave.

HR calls me in to talk to me about the insensitive things I said and how I violated HIPPA by exposing her medical history… to only her in her office apparently, but whatever.

A week passes and my boss calls me and said despite going all the way to the CEO and ripping assholes in the company president and everything, she can’t reverse the decision and I’m fired.

Should I have said that? Probably not. Do I regret it? Not really. LMFAO sure, I’ve been unemployed and very poor since then but like… I got to finish my book. I got started on my own otome. I reclaimed my life in a lot of ways. Yeah, it’s been stressful in some ways but I wasn’t gonna go anywhere in that job and I was being taken advantage of like whoa.

Also, the executive got fired after that cause her own shenanigans caught up with her. She used company funds for her own personal projects. LOL

I’m looking for another job rn but it’s a bad time to try to get back into the job force as we’re on the way to a recession LOL But still, no regrets!

I felt bad about it at first tho. I’ve never gotten fired before, lol. And it sucks to give 7 years of your life to a company who won’t even give you benefit of the doubt. But… everything happens for a reason, I guess. LOL

So anyway, I am sorry for your loss of income but I don’t think you’re less of a person because you got fired. Ima pray you find a better job with a bigger paycheck in the future!

[charlesandmartine]

Tuesday 10th January

It was with immense relief when flight MH123 finally touched down this morning into Sydney International Airport. This journey seems to have lasted forever. Firstly the lengthy leg from Heathrow to Kuala Lumpur then onward to Sydney. The second leg was a walk in the park compared to the first which was just shy of 13 hrs. However, the elation of completing the journey at last was short lived when we were immediately sent to the naughty step. As we collected our checked bagage from the carousel, our luggage was being sniffed by the Sydney Airport secret weapon, boldly going to sniff out perpetrators of sophisticated modern day smuggling; namely us. This black, excited Labrador took an instant interest in our cabin bag! Tail wagging and an immensely smug look on her face, she stood firmly behind the indictment placed upon our innocent bag. Judge and jury! We were clearly guilty of apple running. Yes it's a fair cop, we had a forgotten apple that skulked in the depths of the case. A fierce Australian woman severely reprimanded us of the oversight and the dog took on an even greater look of smugness and a job well executed.

We ashamedly made our way by train to Circular Quay to join the ferry to Manly, our home for the next 2 weeks. It's so nice to be back here after 4 years. The last 4 hours of the flight took us across this immense continent. When the admiralty instructed Lieutenant Cook to go find the place they referred to as Terra Australis, it's sometimes hard to grasp just how easy it was for him to miss it so often. As far back as the 1500's it was believed to exist, and perversely only for the reason that they believed the planet should have a balance of land mass northern hemisphere versus southern. Simple really. If Europe and north America was big, there ought to be something big in the south too. So off you go Cook, go find it! Right ho he said.

We boarded an iconic green and cream ferry to Manly, and was reminded of the naming of part of this fleet paying tribute to the original 11 ships making up the First Fleet that arrived in Sydney on 29th January 1788. We didn't think we would ever see one again and so it was so nice to board and subsequently to land at Manly Wharf again at the start of our 2023 sojourn. It really doesn't feel like we have been away.

Extremely tired, but we managed a visit to Coles to get dinner. (No, not a rubbery chicken)

[thetalent4u]

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[sudheervanguri]

Sri Krishna Pharma Walk-in Interviews for Facility (Housekeeping) and Quality Assurance Sri Krishna Pharmaceuticals Ltd. is excited to announce walk-in interviews for multiple roles in Facility (Housekeeping) and Quality Assurance (API) at their Hyderabad locations. These interviews will take place from June 3rd to June 5th, 2024. Candidates with relevant experience in the pharmaceutical industry are invited to attend and explore these promising career opportunities. Walk-in Interview Details Dates and Timings: June 3rd to June 5th, 2024 10:00 AM to 2:00 PM Venue 1: Facility (Housekeeping) Sri Krishna Pharmaceuticals Limited Corporate Office - Hyderabad, C-4, Industrial Area, Uppal Contact Person: Kishore (HR) Venue 2: Quality Assurance (API) Sri Krishna Pharmaceuticals Ltd. Unit-IV Jinnaram Mandal IDA Bollaram, Hyderabad, Telangana About Sri Krishna Pharma Sri Krishna Pharmaceuticals Ltd. is a trusted name in the pharmaceutical industry, known for its commitment to quality and excellence. As partners in the journey of life, Sri Krishna Pharma ensures the highest standards in every aspect of its operations, from manufacturing to quality assurance. Job Roles and Responsibilities 1. Facility (Housekeeping) - Formulations Department: Facility (Housekeeping) Designation: Executive - Facility Management Key Responsibilities: Maintain cleanliness and hygiene in pharmaceutical formulations facilities. Ensure compliance with Good Manufacturing Practices (GMP). Oversee cleaning protocols and schedules. Manage housekeeping staff and resources efficiently. Qualifications: Minimum 4 years of work experience in housekeeping within the pharmaceutical industry. Strong knowledge of GMP and cleaning standards. 2. Quality Assurance (API) Department: Quality Assurance Open Positions: Chemist, Officer, Executive, Senior Executive Key Responsibilities: Prepare and manage documentation for Quality Management Systems (QMS). Handle deviations, change controls, incidents, and Corrective and Preventive Actions (CAPA). Conduct vendor qualifications and audit compliances. Perform equipment qualifications and ensure regulatory adherence. Qualifications: Educational background in M.Sc, B.Sc, B.Pharma, or M.Pharma. 2-12 years of experience in Quality Assurance within the pharmaceutical industry. Knowledge of documentation preparation, QMS, and regulatory guidelines. [caption id="attachment_58448" align="aligncenter" width="930"] Sri Krishna Pharma: Walk-In Drive for Production Roles in Hyderabad[/caption] What We Offer Competitive salary and benefits A collaborative and innovative work environment Opportunities for professional growth and development How to Apply Interested candidates are encouraged to attend the walk-in interviews at the specified locations with their latest resume, one passport-size photograph, and the latest salary slip. Immediate joiners are preferred.

[autismserenity]

Okay, I'm a data nerd. But this is so interesting?!

She starts out by looking at whether YouTube intense promotion of short-form content is harming long-form content, and ends up looking at how AI models amplify cultural biases.

In one of her examples, Amazon had to stop using AI recruitment software because it was filtering out women. They had to tell it to stop removing resumes with the word "women's" in them.

But even after they did that, the software was filtering out tons of women by doing things like selecting for more "aggressive" language like "executed on" instead of, idk, "helped."

Which is exactly how humans act. In my experience, when people are trying to unlearn bias, the first thing they do is go, "okay, so when I see that someone was president of the women's hockey team or something, I tend to dismiss them, but they could be good! I should try to look at them, instead of immediately dismissing candidates who are women! That makes sense, I can do that!"

And then they don't realize that they can also look at identical resumes, one with a "man's" name and one with a "woman's" name, and come away being more impressed by the "man's" resume.

So then they start having HR remove the names from all resumes. But they don't extrapolate from all this and think about whether the interviewer might also be biased. They don't think about how many different ways you can describe the same exact tasks at the same exact job, and how some of them sound way better.

They don't think about how, the more marginalized someone is, the less access they have to information about what language to use. And the more likely they are to have been "trained," by the way people treat them, to minimize their own skills and achievements.

They don't think about why certain words sound polished to them, and whether that's actually reflecting how good the person using that language will be at their job.

In this How To Cook That video, she talks about the fact that they're training that type of software on, say, ten years of hiring data, and that inherently means it's going to learn the biases reflected in that data... and that what AI models do is EXAGGERATE what they've learned.

Her example is that if you do a Google image search for "doctor," 90% of them will be men, even though in real life only 63% are men.

This is all fascinating to me because this is why representation matters. This is such an extreme, obvious example of why representation matters. OUR brains look at everything around us and learn who the world says is good at what.

We learn what a construction worker looks like, what a general practitioner doctor looks like, what a pediatrician looks like, what a teacher looks like.

We look at the people in our lives and in the media we consume and the ambient media we live through. And we learn what people who matter in our particular society look like.

We learn what a believable, trustworthy person looks like. The kind of person who can be the faux-generic-human talking to you about or illustrating a product.

Unless we also actively learn that other kinds of people matter equally, are equally trustworthy and believable... we don't.

And that affects EVERYTHING.

Also, this seems very easy to undo -- for AI, at least.

Like, instead of giving it a dataset of all the pictures of doctors humans have put out there, they could find people who actively prefer diverse, interesting groups of examples. And give the dataset to a bunch of them, first, to produce something for AI to learn from.

Harvard has a whole slew of really good tests for bias, although I would love to see more. (Note: they say things like "gay - straight, " but it's not testing how you feel about straight people. It's testing whether you have negative associations about gay people, and it uses straight people as a kind of baseline.)

There must be a way for image-recognition AI software to take these tests and reveal how biased a given model is, so it can be tweaked.

A lot of people would probably object that you're biasing the model intentionally if you do that. But we know the models are biased. We know we all have cultural biases. (I mean. Most people know that, I think.)

Anyway, this is already known in the field. There are plenty of studies about the biases in different AI programs, and the biases humans have.

That means we're already choosing to bias models intentionally. Both by knowingly giving them our biases, and by knowing they'll make our biases even bigger. And we already know this has a negative impact on people's lives.