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covid-safer-hotties · 3 months ago

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The next pandemic is inevitable. Australia isn’t ready - Published Sept 23, 2024

(Before you Americans yell at me, It's already the 23rd in Australia. This is very late-breaking)

I thought this was a really good breakdown of the current situation given the government-approved covid denial we live in. Long, but worth a read.

By Kate Aubusson and Mary Ward

Top infectious disease and public health veterans at the nerve centre of the state’s war against COVID-19 are sounding the alarm.

NSW is less prepared today to fend off a deadly pandemic despite the lessons of COVID-19, say top infectious disease and public health veterans at the nerve centre of the state’s war against the virus.

And we won’t have another hundred years to wait.

NSW’s gold standard Test-Trace-Isolate-Quarantine and vaccination strategies will be useless if a distrusting population rejects directives, refuses to give up its freedoms again, and the goodwill of shell-shocked public health workers dries up.

A panel of experts convened by The Sydney Morning Herald called for a pandemic combat agency akin to the armed forces or fire brigades to commit to greater transparency or risk being caught off guard by the next virulent pathogen and misinformation with the potential to spread faster than any virus.

“It’s inevitable,” says Professor Eddie Holmes of the next pandemic. A world-leading authority on the emergence of infectious diseases at the University of Sydney, Holmes predicts: “We’ll have less than 100 years [before the next pandemic].

“We’re seeing a lot of new coronaviruses that are spilling over into animals that humans are interacting with,” said Holmes, the first person to publish the coronavirus genome sequence for the world to see.

“People are exposed all the time, and each time we are rolling the dice.”

The independent review of NSW Health’s response to COVID-19 opened with the same warning: “No health system or community will have the luxury of 100 years of downtime.”

Pandemic preparedness needs to be a “permanent priority”, wrote the report’s author, Robyn Kruk, a former NSW Health secretary, “rather than following the path of those that have adopted a ‘panic and forget strategy,’ allowing system preparedness to wane”.

Why we don’t have 100 years to wait for the next pandemic The World Health Organisation has declared seven public health emergencies of international concern since 2014, including the current mpox outbreak.

Climate change is turbocharging the factors that coalesce to create the perfect breeding ground for a pandemic-causing virus, including population increases, bigger cities, and better-connected global markets and migration.

“Animals will be forced into more constrained environments, and humans that rely on those environments will be again constrained in the same environments. There will be more wet markets, more live animal trade that will just increase exposure,” Holmes said.

“It was clear that we weren’t ready [for COVID],” said Jennie Musto, who, after seven years working for the World Health Organisation overseas, became NSW Health’s operations manager for the Public Health Emergency Operations Centre, the team responsible for NSW’s COVID-19 contact tracing and containment.

“Everyone had preparedness plans gathering dust on a shelf, but no one was actually ready to respond, and so everyone was on the back foot,” Musto said. “Perhaps none of us really thought this was going to happen. We were waiting 500 years.”

Who would willingly become the next doomed whistleblower? Eddie Holmes, known for his repeated assertion that SARS-CoV-2 did not come from a lab, is deeply concerned that when the next pandemic-causing virus emerges, chances are it will be covered up.

“My worry is that if the virus appeared in a small population, say, somewhere in Southeast Asia, the people involved wouldn’t blow the whistle now, given the fact that you would get blamed,” he said.

Li Wenliang, the Wuhan doctor who tried to raise the alarm about a virulent new virus, was reportedly reprimanded by police for spreading rumours and later died of COVID-19.

The global blame game, culminating in a deep distrust of China and accusations that the virus was grown in a Wuhan lab, is why Holmes believes “we’re in no better place than we were before COVID started, if not worse”.

“I work with a lot of people in China trying to keep the lines of communication open, and they’re scared, I think, or nervous about saying things that are perceived to counter national interest.”

From a vaccine perspective, our defences look strong. There have been monumental advancements in vaccine development globally, driven by mRNA technology. In Sydney this month, construction began on an RNA vaccine research and manufacturing facility.

“But the way I see it is that nothing has been done in terms of animal surveillance of outbreaks or data sharing. The [global] politics has got much, much worse,” Holmes said.

Combat force Conjoint Associate Professor Craig Dalton, a leading public health physician and clinical epidemiologist, called for a dramatic expansion of the public health workforce and the establishment of a pandemic combat force that would routinely run real-time pandemic simulations during “peacetime”.

“No one is upset with fire brigades spending most of the time not fighting fires. They train. A lot. And that’s probably how we need to move,” he said.

“We need exercise training units so that every major player in pandemic response is involved in a real-time, three to four-day pandemic response every three to five years at national, state and local [levels].”

The federal Department of Health and Aged Care recently ran a health emergency exercise focused on governance arrangements involving chief health officers and senior health emergency management officials, a spokeswoman for Health Minister Mark Butler said. The outcomes of this exercise will be tested later this year.

Dalton said desktop simulations and high-level exercises involving a handful of chiefs didn’t cut it, considering the thousands of people working across regions and states. He instead suggested an intensive training program run in the Hunter New England region before the 2009 H1N1 pandemic provided a good model.

“We were ringing people, actors were getting injections, just like a real pandemic,” said Dalton, who once ordered a burrito in a last-ditch effort to contact a restaurant exposed to COVID-19.

Our heroes have had it The expert panel was emphatic that our pandemic response cannot once again rely on the goodwill of the public health and healthcare workforce.

According to the Kruk review, what began as an emergency response ultimately morphed from a sprint into an ultra marathon and “an admirable (yet unsustainable) ‘whatever it takes’ mindset”.

They were hailed as heroes, but the toll of COVID-19 on healthcare workers was brutal. Workloads were untenable, the risk of transmission was constant, and the risk of violence and aggression (for simply wearing their scrubs on public transport in some cases) was terrifying.

“We got through this pandemic through a lot of people working ridiculous hours,” Dalton said.

“You talk to a lot of people who did that and say they could not do it again.”

Tellingly, several expert personnel who worked at the front lines or in the control centre of NSW’s pandemic defences were invited to join the Herald’s forum but declined. Revisiting this period of intense public scrutiny, culminating in online attacks and physical threats, was just too painful.

So long, solidarity Arguably, the biggest threat to our pandemic defences will be the absence of our greatest strength during COVID: the population’s solidarity and willingness to follow public health orders even when it meant forfeiting fundamental freedoms.

The public largely complied with statewide public health orders, including the stay-at-home directive that became the 107-day Delta lockdown, and other severe restrictions prevented many from being at the bedside of their dying loved ones, visiting relatives in aged care homes and attending funerals.

“My worry is that next time around when those sorts of rules come out, people may say, ‘Well, don’t worry about it.’ They relax it in the future. Why don’t we just not stick to the rules?” said Professor Nicholas Wood, associate director of clinical research and services at the National Centre for Immunisation Research and Surveillance.

“I’m not sure we quite understand whether people [will be] happy with those rules again,” he said.

Dalton was more strident.

“I tend to agree with Michael Osterholm … an eminent US epidemiologist [who] recently said the US is probably less prepared for a pandemic now than it was in 2019, mostly because the learnings by health departments in the COVID pandemic may not make a material difference if faced with a community that distrusts its public health agencies,” he said.

“If H1N1 or something else were to spill over in the next couple of years, things like masks, social distancing and lockdowns would not be acceptable. Vaccination would be rejected by a huge part of the population, and politicians might be shy about putting mandates in.”

As for the total shutdown of major industries, people will struggle to accept it unless the next pandemic poses a greater threat than COVID, said UNSW applied mathematician Professor James Wood.

The risk of the virus to individuals and their families will be weighed against the negative effects of restrictions, which are much better understood today, said Wood, whose modelling of the impact of cases and vaccination rates was used by NSW Health.

“Something like school closure would be a much tougher argument with a similar pathogen,” he said.

A previous panel of education experts convened by the Herald to interrogate pandemic decision-making in that sector was highly critical of the decision to close schools for months during NSW’s Delta lockdown.

Greg Dore, professor of infectious diseases and epidemiology at the Kirby Institute, said the public’s reluctance to adhere to restrictions again may, in part, be appropriate.

“Some of the restrictions on people leaving the country were a bit feudal and too punitive,” he said. “Other restrictions were plain stupid, [for instance] limitations on time exercising outside.”

Meanwhile, the delays to publicly recognise the benefits of face masks and the threat of airborne transmission “ate away at trust”, Dalton said.

“We shouldn’t make those mistakes again,” he said.

Transparent transgressions Uncertainty is not something politicians are adept at communicating, but uncertainty is the only constant during a pandemic of a novel virus.

Vaccines that offered potent protection against early iterations of the COVID virus were less effective against Omicron variants.

“[The public], unfortunately, got hit by a rapid sequence of changes of what was ‘true’ in the pandemic,” James Wood said.

Political distrust can be deadly if governments give the public reason to suspect they are obfuscating.

The expert panel urged NSW’s political leaders to be far more transparent about the public health advice they were given before unilaterally enforcing restrictions.

There was a clear line between public health advice and political decision-making in Victoria. The Victorian chief health officer’s written advice was routinely published online.

In NSW, that line was blurred as Chief Health Officer Kerry Chant stood beside political leaders, most notably former premier Gladys Berejiklian, at the daily press conferences.

Public health experts said that they looked for subtle cues to determine the distinction between the expert advice and the political messaging during press conferences, paying attention to body language, who spoke when and who stayed silent.

“It is fine for public health personnel to have a different view to politicians. They have different jobs. What is not OK is to have politicians saying they are acting on public health advice [when they are not],” he said.

The ‘whys’ behind the decisions being made were missing from the daily press conferences, which created “a vacuum for misinformation”, said social scientist and public health expert Professor Julie Leask at the University of Sydney.

“The communication about what you need to do came out, and it was pretty good … but the ‘why we’re doing this’ and ‘what trade-offs we’ve considered’ and ‘what dilemmas we’ve faced in making this decision’; that was not shared,” Leask said.

The infodemic In the absence of transparency, misinformation and disinformation fill the vacuum.

“We had an ‘infodemic’ during the pandemic,” said Dr Jocelyne Basseal, who worked on the COVID-19 response for WHO in the Western Pacific and leads strategic development at the Sydney Infectious Diseases Institute, University of Sydney.

“The public has been so confused. Where do we go for trusted information [when] everyone can now write absolutely anything, whether on Twitter [now called X] or [elsewhere] on the web?” Basseal said.

A systematic review conducted by WHO found misinformation on social media accounted for up to 51 per cent of posts about vaccines, 29 per cent of posts about COVID-19 and 60 per cent of posts about pandemics.

Basseal’s teenage children recently asked whether they were going into lockdown after TikTok videos about the mpox outbreak.

“There is a lot of work to be done now, in ‘peacetime’ … to get ahead of misinformation,” Basseal said, including fortifying relationships with community groups and teaching scientists – trusted and credible sources of information – how to work with media.

In addition to the Kruk review’s six recommendations to improve its pandemic preparedness, NSW Health undertook a second inquiry into its public health response to COVID-19, which made 104 recommendations.

NSW Health Minister Ryan Park said: “We are working hard to ensure the findings and recommendations from those reports are being implemented as quickly as possible.”

The expert panellists spoke in their capacity as academics and not on behalf of NSW Health or WHO.

The ‘As One System’ review into NSW Health’s COVID-19 response made six recommendations 1. Make governance and decision-making structures clearer, inclusive, and more widely understood 2. Strengthen co-ordination, communication, engagement, and collaboration 3. Enhance the speed, transparency, accuracy, and practicality of data and information sharing 4. Prioritise the needs of vulnerable people and communities most at risk, impacted and in need from day one 5. Put communities at the centre of emergency governance, planning, preparedness, and response 6. Recognise, develop and sustain workforce health, wellbeing, capability and agility.

#mask up #covid #covid 19 #pandemic #wear a mask #public health #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #wear a respirator

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mistydeyes · 1 year ago

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Hi,if you’re not busy can you write a fic of Cod characters with a cia agent gf ?

yes ofc! yk i love a good little government agent gf moment :)

a double life

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summary: From hidden occupations to a particular set of skill sets, the 141 learns to adapt to having a girlfriend who has all the right qualifications (and who could completely kick their ass).

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence

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price

"Sorry I can't be there to meet you, Price," Laswell spoke over the web camera feed, "got tied up in South America." Price nodded as he held the bridge of his nose, Laswell had promised her best field agent to act as a point person for their mission in New Zealand. However, just the thought of some middle-aged retired veteran or worse yet, hot-shot rookie, made his headache pound even further. "She's a good one, Price," Laswell reassured, "skilled in practically every major language and the best marks in her physical fitness examination." "Yes Kate, I read her file, but it seems like you failed to include a photo-" He was interrupted by a sturdy knock at the door. "Looks like she's here."

As you cracked the door open, you practically dropped the files that sat in your arms. "What are you doing here?" Price asked jovially and you could feel the breath release from your sternum, "didn't expect an on-base visit like this." As the pieces began to fit together, you realized he didn't know what you were actually there for. "John, Kate sent me here," you whispered as you shut the door gently, "heard you're going to New Zealand." As the realization hit him like an oncoming train, you braced for impact. "You-you work for the CIA?" he asked almost foolishly and you nodded in response. "I did say I worked in Virginia," you corrected, "and you had to know my surprise visit yesterday wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing." Price could feel his headache reach a fever pitch as he reviewed your file again. "Then what's with the name?" he asked, "you lie about that too." You let out a laugh as you explained, "People have nicknames and mother's maiden names, John." As you sat back in your chair and crossed your legs, Price wondered what he had done for the universe to gift him you.

soap

Despite your initial reservations, Johnny was quite good at keeping your occupation vague and nonchalant in conversation. You were honest about your work in central intelligence and he took that secret to the grave. Your long-distance relationship was written off as you working in some company in DC and no one batted an eye at your occasional inference at military strategy or surveillance techniques. When you returned home, you would always be sure to show him extra appreciation for his covertness. "Tryna make me patriotic?" he would joke before you would kiss him and stifle his laughs.

However, he loved testing your skill set and seeing if you were as trained of an operative as your file read. "Let's see what they teach you over there, Bonnie," he joked as he lined up his sights at the air gun range. You refrained from kicking him as you stood back to watch him. You almost let out a laugh when you saw his small pellet ricochet just slightly off target. "Hmm and that's why Ghost is your long-range weapons specialist," you teased as he got up and switched positions. You breathed in as you looked down your sights and positioned your rifle towards the farthest target on the range. "You Americans, always so fucking cocky," he muttered under his breath before you quickly shut him up with a quick shot directly into the center of the target. The metal hen spun around widely at your expert marksmanship and you exhaled your held breath. You stood up and tried to size up your tall boyfriend. "Best 2/3?" you offered and you smiled as he kissed your forehead before ushering you out of the way to try again. "Fucking CIA training," he whispered as he got into position again. "You say something, you glorified sergeant?"

gaz

It was 4 am when you arose from the bed and leaned into Kyle, taking in his warmth and seeking refuge from the cold London air. You could always rely on your boyfriend to be your human-sized space heater. As you laid your head across his chest, you could feel him stir lightly. "Time to go already, love?" he asked with his eyes still closed and you muttered in confirmation. You always knew what challenges came with living so far away from the States but you had someone who made it all worth it. He kissed your forehead lightly as you rolled off the bed. You tried to quietly make your way to the bathroom to let him get some more hours of precious sleep but upon your return, it was clear Kyle was more awake than before.

"You sure you don't need me to drive you to the airport?" he offered yet again as you dressed quickly in dress slacks and a blouse. "MI6 is sending a car," you explained as you collected your overnight bag, "just try to get some sleep, my love. I'll text you when I land in Langley." Despite your soft kiss on the cheek, Kyle still pouted as you pulled away. "Don't understand why you can't be a liaison officer for us," he mumbled but you ruffled his hair slightly. "When the position becomes available, I'll be the first application on there," you smiled, doing a final check of your things, "just tell Price to write me a hell of a recommendation letter." With that, you shared another long kiss as you slightly cringed at his morning breath. "I'll be sure to say hi to the cybercrime analysis team for you, hopefully, they'll actually take my advice this time," you laughed before exiting out of your apartment and embracing the cold English air you had grown to love.

ghost

When the question arose of your occupation, you would always smile and defer to being just an "American government worker." However, you always knew Simon had more than just an inkling as to your occupation. When you spoke about military strategy, and combat techniques, or even had various conversations in different languages over the phone, it was clear to him that you were more than just a civilian. The shock didn't even resonate with him when you uttered the words, "Paramilitary Operations Officer," it all seemed to fall into place. He wouldn't bat an eye when it came to long stretches of days that you were in minimal contact with him. "I'll be back," you would reassure as you pulled on a dark hoodie and headed out the door with a bag. Simon would always be there to clean your wounds and ice your bruises.

It was a shock when Simon hadn't heard from you in a month. You had left in the middle of the day in a black Mercedes that disappeared off the English skyline. It was the unfortunate timing that he had been on leave when you left and there had been no word from Price regarding a new mission. Every morning, he would turn over in your king-sized bed expecting to see you smiling back at him. However, the days dragged on without any information meeting his ears. You could practically still picture his terrified face when you turned the key into the door and slammed your bag down. Simon paused upon seeing your blackened eye and wrapped knuckles. The eye bags on your delicate face further added worry to the situation. "Don't ask," you whispered as you fell into his chest, "intel was shit." That was all Simon needed to lift you gently and place you back on the couch. As he held you in his arms with an ice pack to your eye, you slightly pulled away from his touch. "I promised I would come back, didn't I?"

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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The Quiet Ones 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I really gotta finish my paper (don't worry I'm like 3/4 done).

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The light is there again. Bright, green, searing into your vision as it shines against the wall, weaving in perfectly between the curtains. Every night. Taunting you. And in the morning, gone.

Can you call it a pattern after only three days?

You don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what he wants from you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would by now, wouldn’t he? Or is this a sick game he’s playing? Whatever it is, it’s madness.

You sit up and grab your pillow. You cross the room to the door and close it behind you. You put the pillow on the couch and pull down the folded throw across the back. You don’t expect to sleep out here either but you won’t have to stare at the insufferable dot.

You lay down on your back and sigh at the ceiling. You stare up at the plaster until your eyes close on their own. Your shoulders are tense, your back too, every muscle in you has been knotted for days. You tried a hot shower, even a bath, but both just made you feel vulnerable. You’ve never been overly comfortable being naked but now you feel as if he can see your every movement.

You tried some exercises in an effort to loosen up too. Those only made you dizzy due to your lack of sleep and rationing. Those should be a sign for you to rethink your strategy but your only other option is to face the danger. You know better than that.

You huff as the last gray days pile on you. You open your eyes and bring your hand up to your forehead, trying to rub away the stress. You pause as a gleam flashes over your flesh. You drop your arm back down and raise yourself on your elbows.

Jeez.

Right there in the middle of your chest is the dot, rather a sliver of it. You look up as it glints in between the verticle blinds. You drop back down. Fine, whatever, if he’s going to shoot, he should just get it over with. You hate this limbo. It’s easy when you know what you’re waiting for. This is just torture.

A sudden jarring jingle cuts through the din. You sit up, heart beating. It isn’t the deafening gunshot you expected. The green laser ripples through the darkness as you stagger up to your feet and cover your ears. You follow the blaring noise into the bedroom.

Your phone lights up on your nightstand, flashing as you cross the space. You grab it and quickly silence it, staring at the screen in confusion. You keep your phone on silent, always. You never really use it for more than your banking and emails. On the screen, you see a map of your neighbourhood and a speck pulsing at the centre; your apartment. Huh.

You remember dismissing that feature before. Several times when you got the phone it kept offering to set up the ‘find your phone’ app but you figured you wouldn’t need it. Yet, here it is, chiming and chirping at you. It isn’t a coincidence. It’s him.

You peer over at the window and the green glare pours through. You look down again and find the dot right there. You shake your head and back away, hugging yourself as you flee back into the living room. It’s all so messed up and confusing. You don’t get how this can be happening.

You go into the kitchen. No windows to haunt you there. You put your phone down and lean on the counter as you hold your head. You blow out a breath and you close your eyes.

You try not to let yourself ask the questions but you’re so tired, you can’t keep fighting this hard. Who is he? How did he find you? Was that day at the cafe the first? Were you so obtuse that you never noticed him before? Does any of it matter?

The silence shatters again as your phone erupts in a cacophony once more. You back away and cup your ears. You’ve never done well with noise, especially loud noise, or too much at once. It’s a sort of dissonance that makes your head spin.

You scramble to grasp the phone, eardrums pulsing, and you hit the button again to hush it. You close out of the app and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. For a moment, you’re confused. The only messages you get are obvious scammers or stupid adverts you need to unsubscribe from.

‘Get some beauty sleep.’

You scowl as you stare at the text. What does that even mean? Even if the number is private, you don’t need to guess. You know it’s him. He’s messing with you. You won’t respond, not even in writing. You delete the conversation entirely and shut the phone off.

You leave it on the counter and go back to the couch. The laser awaits you. You lay down under it and resign yourself to your fate. The only comfort is he’s still out there and you’re in here. A ripple of fear courses through you as you wonder how long that can last.

👄

Your mail doesn’t come to your door. It’s left in one of the dozens of metal boxes near the front door. Typically you go down to grab it twice a week. You haven’t gone once in the last six days. You don’t plan on it either. You get digital statements for everything anyhow.

Yet, that doesn’t stop the special delivery from sliding underneath the door. You’re in your kitchen when you hear the soft whoosh. You go to the doorway and stare at the envelope on your floor as you lazily stir your instant coffee. You’re too tired to react with more than a yawn.

You think it could be a notice from the building. They usually leave one when they have to do an inspection. Yet, there’s not sign of the rental companies logo and the envelope is black. You doubt they’ve rebranded.

You sip from your coffee and sit at your desk. You login to the portal and open up a task. You don’t need to worry about all that. You muster all you have left for your daily toil. It’s the one thing you can’t forego; the one thing you share in common with other people, you need money to survive.

You empty the coffee with careless gulps as you key through several tasks. The hours drag by, the clock ticking in the corner of the screen, second by second, minute by grueling minute. The days don’t matter, they all blend together in this hazy purgatory.

You’re drawn from your mindless typing by the agonising growl of your stomach. You’re starving. Those times when you do let yourself eat, it isn’t much. Finally, your humanly needs have overcome your lack of appetite. You can’t deny it any longer.

You return to the kitchen with your empty mug. You go to rinse it and water spurts forth, for just a second, then the pipes grind and run dry. You put the cup in the sink and cross your arm. You march out to the bathroom and try the sink in there with the same result. The faucet in the tub runs a little longer but peters out to a single drip.

Hm, maybe that’s what the letter’s about.

You sweep back out and scoop up the envelope. Just bending down makes you see stars. You put it on the counter and go to the cupboard to take out the salted crackers. You unfurl the top of the sleeve and wiggle one out. You munch on the stale square and slip your thumb under the flap of the envelop and tear.

You put down the crackers and rip open one end of the envelope. You shake out the contents. It isn’t a letter. Just a folded pamphlet with something smaller inside. You unfold the spa booklet to uncover the all-inclusive pass within. You drop both and grip your head.

Is this some sort of bribe? Bait? He’s trying to draw you out and with what? The worst experience you could think of? The smells, the touching, the people...

You put it all back in the envelope. You don’t want it. You don’t even want it in your apartment. Your safe space. He’s invading it little by little. He can’t have it.

You go to the door and shove it back under the bottom. You push it as far as you can and fall back, catching yourself on the wall. Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re afraid. You just want everything to go back the way it was. You want to be alone. That’s all you ever wanted.

👄

You use your phone to authorise the two-factor sign-in to your bank account. You set it aside after confirming and wait for the screen to load. Your heart nearly stops as you see the balance. A few times you came too close to the red but this is not what you’re expecting. There’s about fifty thousand dollars extra. It has to be an error.

You click on your chequing and bring up the next screen. There is is ‘50,000’ in bold green letters but it doesn’t say where it’s come from, just ‘authorised payment’ next to it. What the heck does that mean?

Right below it you see your work deposit. That appears as usual. Company name, amount, account number. So what happened?

You click the chat icon at the bottom of the page and wait for an agent to connect. You go through the typical automated questions; what is your issue? Account number? All of that. When you finally have a representative and explain the extra zeros in your account, the response is only three dots.

You shake your head. You don’t need this. You have enough going on. Your water’s still out, you’re almost out of coffee, and you haven’t even started work. Halfway through and it feels like you’ve only just started a new week. You frame your face as you await the response.

‘Hello, miss. Thank you for your patience. We have found no error in this transfer.’

You lean back and whine. That doesn’t make sense.

‘Can I know where the money came from?’ You type.

‘The payee is listed as London Fog LLC. It appears to be a business payment.’

You close your eyes. What? That makes no sense. It... can’t be.

‘Can you reverse the payment, please?’ You input.

‘We can attempt to reverse this. This might take a few days to process. We will keep the ticket open until this is done.’

‘Thank you.’

You close out the chat. That’s as best as you can do. It’s all so weird and you can’t deny the nagging truth. It’s not an error or a coincidence. It’s that stranger. He is playing a very confusing game.

Your phone lights up and your eyes flit down. You lean in to glimpse the notification before it minimises. ‘Happy hump day <3’. You quickly black out the screen and flip it over. Leave me alone!

👄

You almost expect the knock on your door. Deep down, you knew it was coming. Noon, on the dot. It’s Wednesday.

“London Fog express!” He calls through. “Ew, this one’s gone a bit bad.”

You hear him shifting around before the handle turns without give. He wiggles it and sighs. He huffs and you can tell by his shadow he’s leaning on the door.

“Look, jellybean, I came all the way here, even burnt myself on this thing,” he says through the door, “you know, I’ve had some late nights...” he pauses as you sit silent, unmoving at your desk. “You don’t have to do more than open the door and take the cup. Promise, I won’t try nothing. I mean, I’ve been pretty patient, haven’t I?”

You press your fingers to the edge of your desk to keep from shaking.

“Right, I guess... I haven’t even introduced myself. How forgetful. Name’s Lloyd, but you could call me like L or love bear or... snookums. Something sweet like that.”

You can’t. You’re going to pass out from absurdity. This man is psychotic.

“You know, I’m a pretty handsy—handy guy. I could fix that water issue you got going on--”

Holy cow. How does he know—how could he? He wouldn’t be able to just shut off your water. Right?

“See, I get you, baby face, you’re the quiet type. You like to keep to yourself. That’s fair but everyone needs someone. I see that now,” he rambles through the door as it groans against his lean, “I didn’t before. Then I saw you and everything changed. It’s me and you, cupcake.”

You stand and shudder, walking stiffly around the corner and towards the door. You step up and try to see through the peep hole. It’s still black. You exhale and sniff.

“What do you want?” You croak.

Silence. The door shifts as he takes his weight off of it. He soles scuff on the other side.

“Hi,” his voice softens, “how are you, jellybean?”

You close your eyes. You just want an answer. You cross your arms and rocks, a soothing gesture as your nerves bubble up.

“Yeah, that’s okay, I know you’re not much of a talker. We balance each other out like that. I’m doing okay, you know? Cafe was a bit crowded but I got your latte. Foam shouldn’t have fallen yet so if you just want to open--”

“What do you want?” You step closer to the door and raise your voice.

He scoffs into a hum, “isn’t it obvious, babes?”

You open your eyes and bit your upper lip.

“You, baby cakes. Simple as that,” he drawls, “so why don’t you grab your tea and we can have a little sit down.”

“Go away.”

He huffs and clicks his tongue, “don’t be like that, sweetie.”

“I don’t know you--”

“I’m Lloyd, your love bear--”

“Stop. I want you to leave me alone.”

Another sharp exhale from the other side. A lull that prickles across your skin.

“I can’t do that.”

You wince, “please...”

“All you have to do is open the door, jellybean. You know I’m a good guy. I’ve been looking out for you. Every night,” something drags down the door. “You can’t lock yourself away forever.”

You step back and lean on the wall weakly. He’s delusional and you’re so tired. You’re almost tempted to open the door just to get it over with. You sink down onto your butt and hug your knees.

“No.”

That’s all you say. It’s all you can eke out.

He taps on the door lightly and sucks his teeth. “Well, guess I gotta amp up my game.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the gray man #series #the quiet ones

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ennobletechnologies · 1 year ago

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Unlock the power of online reviews for effective reputation management. Enhance your online presence and build trust with customer feedback.

Do Visit: https://ennobletechnologies.com/digital-marketing/power-of-online-reviews/

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csrconsultants · 3 days ago

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aurorangen · 4 months ago

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There are some things we will remember for the rest of our lives

Transcript & Context:

[She couldn't have. I kept telling myself those words until they sounded believable. Billy also had conflicting thoughts about her innocence, judging from his face and actions in the following hours. We didn't know what was the truth. Ultimately she was innocent, but it was no easy task getting there]

[The police at Gibbs Hill provided the documents such as the forensics reports and witness testimonies, but they made no sense. The stab wound images didn't match the weapon. The witness testimonies were under fake names. Not a lot of biological evidence. Unfortunately, the only thing plausible was the fingerprints]

[When my mum was interrogated, she had a right to a lawyer, so she contacted the only person she could think of, Sunny Chaudhry, a criminal defence lawyer and old friend. He came to meet me straight after with details]

Sunny: Vincent, I will do everything possible to prove your mother is innocent. She has been framed.

[Initially, there were disputes between Sunny and Billy's police department with cooperating. He was defending the criminal after all. Further review of the documents proved something was off with Gibbs Hill Police and they decided to reinvestigate the murder. Expert help was vital to reinforce the evidence]

[Another autopsy was done to estimate the time of death, cause and identity. Immediate observation showed he wasn't my father. The body identified was a murder victim, from a case solved a week back. It was enough proof. All that was left was for Sunny to finish the legal procedures and defense strategy for the trial]

[Then the day of the trial came. I listened intently to every word he spoke and forgot my anxiety. The verdict was my mum was not guilty and she was released from all charges. Immediate investigation was to be done on Gibbs Hill Police. Sunny looked so powerful in front of everyone: I was mesmerised by his confidence]

Well, this was my idea for why he wanted to be a lawyer! Seeing Sunny fight for Payton to prove her innocence, opened Vincent's eyes. It's quite meaningful because one impacted his own life in such a significant way. And yes I brought back an old face.

Vincent: [whispers to himself] I want to be like that one day. A lawyer?

[It was a job that positively impacted society, a job that held so much authority. A responsibility to uphold justice and fairness. It provided a voice to the voiceless, a voice that would be heard by people]

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starfinss · 1 year ago

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𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 — 𝘑𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠𝘶𝘢𝘯

𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Honkai Star Rail

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Jing Yuan + Reader

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 9,818

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: And as you stood there, confused and fuming and utterly scarlet in the face, you decided to do something stupid. Like, really, cosmically stupid. But really, you couldn’t think of anything to do at that moment besides that terribly stupid thing.

Without saying anything, you crossed to his side of the desk, leaning to grab at the front of his clothing and yanking him up to meet your mouth in a kiss, effectively shutting him up and showing just how comfortable you were.

You had a headache.

You’d had it since you woke up that morning, persisting even after you downed a couple of painkillers, and even still after your first cup of strong tea. And finally, to your chagrin, it only grew worse as you walked to work. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was simple dumb luck. Things like this always seemed to happen to you right before you had something important to do.

For the umpteenth time, you rubbed at your throbbing temples. On a normal day, you’d call in sick and spend the day at home, and the General wouldn’t mind. He was good like that. But today, you couldn’t afford to bail. Incidents like the Sanctus Medicus debacle came with a lot of red tape, even after all the heavy lifting and clashing of blades was finished. Incident reports, statements, casualty reports, and more bureaucratic nonsense that was of no help to the bereaved families of the fallen Cloud Knights. It was a web of all sorts of complicated, and if you weren’t careful, it was easy to get lost in the nearly endless amount of work to be done, especially as an advisor to the General of the Cloud Knights.

But you had an idea. It had come to you when you were combing through the incident reports; brought about by the footnote left by Jing Yuan regarding those very stragglers of the cult-like group. A solution to capture the remaining disciples of the Sanctus Medicus. Your notes on that were tucked away in the folder in your arms, all ready to be passed off to the General.

Head still throbbing, you gave your identification to the guards at the door and pushed into the meeting room, taking your seat near the General’s chair. He had yet to arrive, but that was fine with you. It gave you time to review what you were going to say. You placed your folder on the table in front of you, scanning through the lines of text, typed up the night previous, and accompanied by your own notes in the margins. It wasn’t a complicated plan, not as much as you were making it out to be in your own head. It was simple enough, but you were confident it could work.

The General trusted you. Your strategies had worked before, and you’d been instrumental in helping orchestrate successful battle formations, not to mention that you were responsible for the plan that had stopped a string of robberies in the Central Starskiff Haven, something you’d actually received an award for. You knew Jing Yuan would back you up to the other upper echelons of the Cloud Knights, as he had in the past.

It wasn’t long before people began to file into the room, and low chatter began as the pain in your head settled behind your eyes, but gradually began to lessen. You thanked the Aeons for that. You also thanked the Aeons that Fu Xuan was the one who called the meeting to order, recounting facts you already knew from the incident report, so you didn’t actually have to follow what she was saying. Tea was passed out, and you took a slow sip of the liquid. It smelled distinctly herbal, and was undoubtedly picked by the General himself. He always had good taste in teas.

“And that brings me to my next point,” Fu Xuan said, “what are we to do about the remaining members of the Sanctus Medicus who remain in hiding?”

You let yourself prepare what you were going to say, letting a few other people toss ideas around before you raised your hand. When you did, the Master Diviner’s gaze shifted to you, and she nodded, signaling you to speak. Jing Yuan shifted in his seat beside you, leaning on his closed fist, amber eyes expectant. All eyes were on you.

“Yes, what is it?” The Diviner asked.

“I have a proposal,” you said, and Fu Xuan nodded meaningfully.

“Then let’s hear it.”

Gathering your thoughts, you rose to your feet with a sigh.

“In the incident report, transcripts were recorded of the firsthand accounts given by the passengers of the Astral Express. Please, if you will, turn to page nine, where Mr Welt Yang’s statement is attached.”

A rustling of paper followed, and once it had quieted, you picked up where you left off.

“If you see, written in line twelve, Mr Yang recounts an interaction with a captured member of the group. The defeat of Phantylia the Undying was more than likely enough to send the doubters away, but if Mr Yang’s statement is to be believed, even despite their defeat, some of these people still hold a strong degree of loyalty for the Abundance. Which makes them all the more dangerous.”

“I see,” Jing Yuan interjected, clearly interested, “you’re saying that what we have left are the fanatics. The ones most likely to cause problems, yes?”

You nodded. “Yes, correct. I propose we send an agent to infiltrate them. Gather information, cut them off at the root.”

“I’m afraid we tried that,” Qingzu said, “and while we did garner some important information, it was ultimately a failure. Dan Shu escaped, and things ended up escalating to the current level.”

“Yes,” you said, “I’m well aware of that. That was something I advised you on, Miss Qingzu. You approached me for help, if you recall.”

Qingzu folded her hands in her lap, sitting back in her chair. “I do. Your point being?”

“My point being,” you said, “I learned that I needed to reflect on what went wrong, and so I have. And, as it stands, the situation is more dire than it was before. These people have proven themselves to be dangerous, and it is paramount—”

“They were dangerous before,” Qingzu said, “and, it was paramount before. They have always been enemies of the Hunt. If we try to infiltrate again, don’t you think they’d be suspicious?”

“I thought of that,” you said, “which is why I propose we use an ex-member. We have a number of them on record, arrested after the incident, who express resentment towards the group. The Disciples of the Sanctus Medicus bear many strong resemblances to an insular cult, and it would be incredibly useful to have an agent who already knows the ins and outs of such an organization. We’ve done what we can with the information gathered from interrogation, but the fact remains that these fanatics are still out there. We need to utterly destroy whatever is left, and this is the most efficient way to do so.”

“Interesting,” Fu Xuan said, “but there is always the chance of betrayal. How do you account for that?”

You made a rueful face. “Can it not be argued that there is always a chance of betrayal? Though, you could always see the outcome for yourself, Master Diviner. Your divinations are never wrong.”

“What you suggest is reckless,” Qingzu said, “if this ex-member has any sort of loyalty at all left over, it puts us at risk.”

“I accounted for that,” you said, “I propose that—”

“It is simply too risky,” she said, “thank you for your input, though.”

Annoyance flared in your veins, and you tried hard not to let it show on your face. You knew Qingzu well enough to know that she wasn’t shutting you down out of malice, she was simply thinking about efficiency. But she hadn’t let you finish.

“Wait,” you said, “I said, I accounted for that. If you’ll allow me—”

“Allow me to be clear,” Qingzu said, “you acknowledge the risks, yes?”

You paused. “Of course, but I said that I—”

“You acknowledge that if we take this gamble and it fails, it could put the Cloud Knights at risk, correct? If our infiltrator switches sides, we’ll be left wide open. They will have information about us, the acquisition of which might lead to even bigger problems. Do you acknowledge this?”

Discontent and anger peppered across your thoughts as you shifted where you stood, your words stuck in your throat. You glanced down to where Jing Yuan sat beside you, to take in the expectant, almost nonchalant expression on his face. His eyes met your own, briefly, meaningfully, before he fixed his gaze on Qingzu.

“Well?” Qingzu said, “do you, or do you not?”

“Yes, I do,” you said, “and that is why we would send that agent in with one of our own. Say this agent is someone new, a recruit for the cause. It would minimize suspicion, and give us some wiggle room if things were to go south. We have one of our own keeping them in line.”

“I see,” Jung Yuan said, “please, elaborate. How would we orchestrate this? How would we pick the candidates for this operation?”

“General,” Qingzu said, “you know that this is—”

But he held up a hand, silencing her. “Let the woman speak. I can see you are interested in what she has to say as well, Lady Fu Xuan.”

“Correct,” Fu Xuan said, “the idea is intriguing, and could very well lead to the eradication of the Disciples of the Sanctus Medicus. But Lady Qingzu’s worry is not unfounded. If the plan is found out, our agents would likely be killed, and we would be left with bereaved families and nothing to show for the loss. If you can assuage both her fears, and my own, then I believe that your strategy is plausible.”

Ah. And you’d been doing so well before. But the second Fu Xuan fixed you with that look, expecting something great, you could feel your confidence draining out through the soles of your shoes. She seemed to have that effect on everyone, though. Despite her small stature, she could be incredibly intimidating. Regardless, you took a deep breath. You could do this.

“Well,” you said, “I believe that no strategy is without risks. Of course, we’d need to make sure these agents are well briefed and prepared for the operation, so there is little room left for error. We’d need to be careful in our selection process, and I propose that you assist in overseeing this portion of the plan, Master Diviner. That way, you can see for yourself who will be involved and how it will be done. Does that assuage your worry?”

That was a weak answer and you knew it, but you hadn’t accounted for Fu Xuan picking your idea apart like she was. So when her eyes narrowed, you knew she wasn’t satisfied.

“And how exactly will we prepare these operatives?”

You bit your lip. This was the kind of thing, the fine moving parts, that was what you thought about after presenting the actual idea. That did well enough for when you were working with Jing Yuan, and when you presented strategies to others like you were now, he’d often back you up, or at least say something to help you. You looked at him sidelong, and he looked back, as calm and collected as ever. A small, almost bemused smile tugged at his lips, a challenge in his eyes.

“Do you have an answer for me?” Fu Xuan said, canting her head, expectant, “if you don’t, I am sure the General has something to add.”

“I do,” you said, “I have an answer.”

Fu Xuan shifted in her chair. From her expression, you were beginning to figure that your time was up. “Be that as it may, I’d like to hear what the General is thinking. If you’re really confident in your strategy, send me a draft of it and I will review it in full. Thank you.”

You sank down into your chair again, trying not to let your embarrassment show on your face. Jing Yuan proposed an idea similar to yours, but involving sneakier tactics, such as tailing known members of the group and such. Fu Xuan seemed much more complimentary of that than she had of yours, clearly satisfied by the lower risk factor.

But you knew yours would work. It would get more answers, and it could spell the demise of what remained of the Disciples of the Sanctus Medicus.

After the meeting drew itself to a close, you gathered your things, ready to go to the Seat of Divine Foresight to draft up the proposal Fu Xuan asked for. You just hoped she’d actually listen this time. It was as you were circling around the table to go to the door that you heard Jing Yuan call your name, prompting you to turn around, eyebrows raised.

“Walk with me back to the Seat, alright?”

You sighed inwardly. “Yes, General. I was already on my way there.”

“Ah,” he said, smiling, “then it works in both of our favors, doesn’t it?”

He held the door for you as you left the room, and you thanked him politely as he retook his place beside you. You had to walk quickly, the General was a tall man, and his stride was much longer than yours was. It always made you a little breathless, walking alongside him, but then again, most things did when it came to him.

“My idea could work,” you said, and you saw Jing Yuan smile again, thoughtfully.

“Yes,” he said, “it could. I’m confident it could. It was a well thought out plan, as your plans always are.”

You blinked, not expecting the praise, especially not after he’d stayed quiet during the meeting.

“Huh?”

A soft laugh. “You weren’t finished talking when the Master Diviner cut you off, were you? Lady Fu Xuan is… an intense woman. But she is more open to the ideas of others than you’d expect her to be. She just prefers when a person speaks up about what they’re really thinking.”

You frowned. “So you’re saying you support my plan?”

Jing Yuan pushed open the doors to the Seat of Divine Foresight as you rounded upon them, and as you entered, he gestured for those inside to leave the room, which they did, leaving the two of you alone.

“Of course I support your plan,” he said, “you know I’ve always respected your inputs, they’ve served me and the Luofu well in the past. But you lack conviction.”

You let his words settle as the two of you crossed the room, making your way to the desk, where you set down the folder you were still carrying.

“How do I lack conviction?” You asked, “I believe firmly in my own ability. I am good at what I do, and you know that, else you wouldn’t have picked me as your advisor. In all the time we’ve worked together, when have I ever lacked conviction in anything I’ve done?”

“That isn’t what I mean,” Jing Yuan said, “I mean in your own ideas. You clearly had more to say to the Master Diviner, but when she stopped you, that was the end of it. You clearly had it thought out, as demonstrated when Miss Qingzu brought up her concerns, but you didn’t fight for it.”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to admit that. You chewed your lip, eyes flicking to where the folder you’d just set down was laying.

“What are you getting at?” You asked, finally, “that I need to be more confident? I know that. I didn’t account for… several things. I suppose I should have.”

Jing Yuan laughed; a lovely, low sound. “Lady Fu Xuan is something few people can really account for. She’s confident to nearly a fault in her abilities of divination, but even she cannot see every angle of a matter by herself. So she tends to pick apart things that would ordinarily require a bit of a gamble. Experience breeds caution, something that rings especially true with someone like the Master Diviner.”

You snorted. “A little warning would have been nice.”

Another laugh. “My apologies. But really, I was interested in seeing how you’d rise to the challenge. You had a good idea, as I knew you would, and I wanted to see you fight for it.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in your gut, and you turned away from him, studying a spot on the floor.

“Well, I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

“Disappointing me? Nonsense. You merely need an extra push. Now, would you care for a game of chess?”

You turned back, looking at him quizzically. “Chess? General, I don’t think now is the time.”

He smiled playfully. “There’s always time for a game of chess. Now, I’ve received this exquisite set, a gift from the Nameless on the Astral Express. I was told it was bought in a city called Belobog. I’m very eager to break it in. As we play, we can discuss further.”

Exasperated, you pulled a chair up to the desk, sinking down into it as Jing Yuan set up the board. The set really was lovely, you noted. It was made of carved wood, the pieces and board both showing fine craftsmanship and detail. You turned over the rook in your hands, admiring the way the wood shone gently under the light.

Jing Yuan chose white, as he usually did when the two of you played chess, and you chose black. He moved first, setting one of his pawns two spaces out from where it was originally, and you followed his example.

“Chess is much like life, no?”

You watched his hands, intent, as he moved his pawn forward once more.

“In some instances,” you said, “strategy is certainly something the two have in common. Or the fact that both require you to think outside the box, especially when figuring out said strategies.”

A good-natured chuckle as you moved a second pawn further, freeing your knight. Jing Yuan moved his own pawn ever closer, but he hadn’t moved any of his more powerful pieces. You narrowed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was planning.

“There’s that sharp intellect I know so well,” Jing Yuan said, “but you’re missing one thing.”

Leaning forward, you rested your elbow against the desk, propping your chin on your folded hand.

“And what would that be?”

A smile, playful and knowing. His eyes sparked with mirth. “You know very well what I mean.”

It was your turn to smile, maybe playing a little dumb. “I assure you, I don’t.”

“Let me give you a hint, then,” the General said, eyes fixed on your hands, watching as you shifted your knight out and onto the board, towards his closest pawn, “purpose, focus, planning. All are vital for a successful gambit, am I right?”

You watched as he moved his pawn again. This was surely a trap, for the rook waiting beyond the pawn, poised to take your knight after the pawn was captured. But you doubted Jing Yuan would do something so obvious. You moved your knight away, clearing it from danger. You needed to back up the piece with another one.

You supposed he was right. Purpose, focus, planning. But there was also sacrifice. Any good plan required gambles, and that rang true on the chessboard as well. You moved your pawn closer to Jing Yuan’s, near ready to capture the piece. Two could play at that game. You could make sacrifices, too.

“Yes,” you said, “but the Master Diviner doesn’t seem to understand it the same way we do. She doesn’t want to take risks.”

Amusement sparked in his golden eyes, electrifying as the air around you. You twisted your fingers around the top of your pawn, adjusting it more squarely into its spot.

“She is a careful woman. She wants everything to be accounted for. You believe in this strategy, yes? That it could work?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Naturally.”

“Then make her believe that. A firm belief in one's self commands a room. Make her see that you will handle whatever unexpected circumstances befall us.”

“Oh?” You said, heart thrumming in your chest, “me, alone? I’m just one person, General. Won’t you be helping me?”

His smile broadened, turning into a lazy grin, and when he spoke, he echoed your words from before.

“Naturally.”

That stupid smile sent butterflies into your stomach, their wingbeats gale force strength as they battered against your lungs. It was always like this with him, something unspoken hanging in the air between you, undisturbed by years of friendship, but ever present. So you did what you always did when it reared its ugly head. You stepped aside to leave it ample room to fester.

“I should be going,” you said, rising from your seat, “we’ll have to finish our game later. I need to finish writing the details I left out for the Master Diviner.”

“You will remain here.”

You blinked. He didn’t say it with any sort of authority, as if he was simply discussing the weather. But the firmness in his eyes told you that it wasn’t up for discussion.

“Excuse me?” You said, voice much weaker than you’d have liked.

“You heard me well. I have more to say, if that’s alright with you. Sit. It’s your turn.”

And so you sat.

“Really, it’s just the two of us,” Jing Yuan said, “we can speak with candor. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to discuss the details you did not get to share earlier. Leave nothing out.”

You narrowed your eyes, absently moving your pawn. “Fu Xuan is already backing your strategy, not mine. My conviction in my plan does not change, but if you were this confident in what I had already, why didn’t you speak up?”

“You know why,” Jing Yuan said, “I wanted you to fight for it. We’re only talking in circles, my dear. How will we guarantee the safety of our agents in this operation?”

Your answer was automatic, despite the rush the diminutive sent through your already electrified system.

“There is no definitive way to ensure that nothing goes wrong aside from preventative measures and ample training,” you said, voice as steady as you could keep it, “any way you slice it, it’s always going to be a bit of a gamble. What I’m suggesting is an infiltration. That kind of operation is unpredictable. You know that. In order to avoid problems, we have to be ready for anything.”

A smile. The rook took your pawn, but you expected that. Without blinking, you took the rook with your knight. Jing Yuan’s eyes flashed with excitement, a contagious grin spreading across his face.

“Excellent answer. But tell me, how will we be ready for anything if we don’t even know what that could be?”

You shrugged. “There’s no perfect way to be ready for absolutely everything. We’ll just have to try and account for what is most likely to happen if things go awry.”

“And the unlikely?”

You knew he was testing you, trying to get under your skin. You looked up at his face and away from the chessboard, the nonchalance in his expression utterly infuriating. You tried your best to remain just as nonplussed.

“I mentioned training, didn’t I?” You said, “we have to trust the operatives will know what to do in the unexpected.”

His smile broadened. “Excellent. See, if you were able to say to her what you just said to me, then we’d be getting somewhere.”

You twisted in your seat. “What makes you so sure of that?”

Another easy smile. “Am I wrong to trust the judgment of a trusted friend and advisor, especially when she’s yet to steer me wrong? I value your opinion. You know that.”

“I do,” you said, “and I value yours as well.”

“I’m hardly worthy of such an honor, I’m sure,” Jing Yuan replied, his smile growing, eyes warm.

For some reason, his words sent those aforementioned butterflies present in your stomach shooting through your bloodstream in an intoxicating rush. Shit. Those feelings were back, the complicated ones you tried to run away from earlier. The way he was smiling at you wasn’t helping in the slightest, and mortifyingly, you could feel your cheeks heating up. Why was that of all things flustering you like this?

Aeons, you had to get out of there. You cleared your throat, expelling any improper or amorous thoughts about your superior from your mind as you straightened in your chair.

“I really should be going, General,” you said, voice a little louder than you’d have liked, “if you’ll excuse me, I—”

“Is something the matter, _____?”

You blinked, staring at him.

You should have said something intelligent, or something to assuage his worries, but instead, all you managed was; “what?”

You cleared your throat for the second time, smoothing down the fabric of your uniform.

“Let me rephrase,” you said, “what do you mean? What would make you think something was the matter?”

Jing Yuan leaned back in his chair, almost lazily, eyes remaining fixed on you as he did so.

“Well,” he said, “you keep trying to excuse yourself, to start. Additionally, your face is very red. Do you feel ill?”

You latched onto that. “I woke up with a headache this morning,” you said, “I’ve been all out of sorts since then, I’m afraid.”

A soft hum, then an understanding nod. “I see,” Jing Yuan said, do you have any other symptoms?”

You shook your head. “Just a headache.”

That was a total lie, your headache had diminished to nothing more than an annoyance during the meeting, and had vanished altogether in the time you had been talking with Jing Yuan. But he didn’t have to know that. He didn’t have to know that situations like this always made you need to excuse yourself to rethink your entire working relationship with him, or that you often thought about how lovely he looked when he smiled.

But then, he was leaning across the table, hand outstretched, and he was pressing his palm to your forehead, the skin cool against your own. It did nothing to calm your racing heart, nor the incandescent blush on your face. The butterflies in your stomach were doing an entire floor routine at this point.

“You do not appear to have a fever,” he said, as he pulled back, “but your face is still very flushed. Are you too warm?”

You tugged at the high collar of your uniform, fingers absently catching on one of the buttons.

“I suppose it is a little warm in here.”

Another lie. You were actually a little bit cold. Another thing he didn’t have to know. YOu had to change the subject, and fast.

“Why is it that you value my input so much—”

“Are you embarrassed?”

The question came so suddenly it stunned you for a moment.

“What would I be embarrassed about?” You finally managed.

“I value your opinion,” he said, “I believe that is what I said that set you out of sorts, yes? The fact that I value your input flusters you? Do you fear that that is all I value? I assure you, I not only treasure your ideas, but your presence as well. You need not feel uncomfortable here, I very much enjoy your company.”

This was not going the way you envisioned at all. You were a professional for Aeons’ sake. You straightened yourself, rising from your chair, just to put some distance between the two of you, just to catch your breath. What was he doing? It almost felt like…

“You’re teasing me,” you said finally.

You turned when he laughed, your expression a mix of emotions, but he was as cool and collected as ever. It almost made you want to slap him. Or kiss him, Aeons forbid. You shoved that thought to the deepest corner of your mind.

“I was concerned at first,” he said, “though I realized after I felt your forehead that you were not ill. I apologize for my behavior, but I’m afraid I just couldn’t help myself.”

You felt like you were going to burst into flames. “So— what you said, about— huh?”

Another laugh. “I meant every word of that. Come now, lying about such things would be unbecoming. Please, would you sit with me some more? I would very much like to finish our game.”

“No,” you said, “the game can wait. Do you not take me seriously?”

He looked briefly surprised before he answered.

“I take you very seriously, I assure you. I cannot see why you would think I wouldn’t. I apologize if I led you to think otherwise.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why tease me?”

“I admit,” he said, “I found your reactions to be… endearing. I did not mean to offend you.”

Your heart sputtered under the new load that had been put upon it like a backfiring starskiff. You’d only ever seen hints of this before, in offhanded compliments and veiled praises, but the General had never been so overt before. Hell, you’d always been certain you were imagining it. But that single revelation brought you to a realization.

“You weren’t just teasing me,” you said, “you were flirting with me.”

The smile grew, and you could have sworn your heart was beating in your ears. He canted his head, regarding you with a playful gaze as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk in front of him.

“And what if I was?”

You coughed, trying to clear your head as confusing emotions swam laps in your bloodstream. Damn him, making you feel like this. Did he not even realize the impropriety of all of this? Did he just not care? How stupid and blind had you been not to realize this was happening?

“If you were,” you said, carefully, “then what does that mean, exactly?”

“You’re a smart woman” he rebuffed, “you know what it means.”

Your brain wasn’t catching up with what he was saying as quickly as you wanted it to, which infuriated you. He was staring at you, waiting for you to say anything at all, and you turned to face him when he said your name.

Damn it. Damn him. Damn everything. The way he was looking at you, like you put the stars in the sky, it made you feel like every cell in your body was screaming. All these years of pining for someone you thought was so unattainable was an arms reach away all along, and that not only made you feel silly, it made you feel a certain degree of strange, misdirected anger.

And as you stood there, confused and fuming and utterly scarlet in the face, you decided to do something stupid. Like, really, cosmically stupid. But really, you couldn’t think of anything to do at that moment besides that terribly stupid thing.

“Of course,” he said, mild panic in his voice, “if you’re uncomfortable with this, it will never be spoken of again—”

He made a sound of surprise when your mouths met, a sound that snapped you from whatever impulsive haze that had settled over your brain. You were about to yank yourself back and apologize until you were unable to do so anymore, but then his hands found your shoulders, holding you in place, and your own fell from his clothing to catch his cheeks in your palms.

He was much taller than you, something especially evident as he rose to his full height, forcing you to stand on your tip-toes, arms slinging around his neck. His own wound around your waist, as not to let you slip away, his body quickly pulled flush against your own.

He tasted of herbal tea and almond cookies, warm against your mouth as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming and passionate, and you felt Jing Yuan pull back for a mere moment, just once, before diving back in, his teeth grazing your lower lip, sending sparks dancing down your spine. Your actions were rapidly growing frenzied, almost fierce, and you could feel yourself moving, your backside making contact with the desk behind you.

You knew this was moving fast, but you couldn’t even begin to care, not when you ran your hands through his hair, drawing a soft gasp from his lips, feather soft against your own, and especially not when his hands shifted to brace on the desk, effectively caging you in. Kissing him was intense , and almost completely overwhelming. The scent of him engulfed you; orange blossom and sandalwood, as well as something earthy and herbal and him.

He was the first one to pull back, face tinged pink as he caught his breath, eyes hooded as he watched you through lashes the color of moonlight. Aeons, he was pretty. Too pretty for his own good. Your eyes fixed to his mouth, watching as his tongue darted out, running briefly over his unfairly full lower lip.

“I see the matter of your comfort isn’t a concern.”

You could only shake your head.

He smiled, and you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest.

“If it’s all the same to you,” he said, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, “I’d like to do that again.”

You answered him by pulling him into another kiss.

You could feel his hands on your waist, warm even through the fabric of your uniform. Gooseflesh raised on your skin as he paused, dangerously close to your hips, and your own hands laced into his hair, your fingers combing through thick, silver locks. The action drew a soft, low sound that made your blood sing with energy. It was embarrassing how quickly he got you like this, so pliable and willing, but as he nibbled at your lower lip, any thoughts of embarrassment were ejected from your mind.

His tongue slid along the seam of your lips, and you parted them, allowing him to press it against your own. Your fingers tangled into his hair, catching at the tie that held it back, and you flirted with the idea of undoing it before he was tugging you backward, away from the desk and onto the bench behind him, gathering you into his lap. The buzz of excitement took its place beneath your skin, and you shifted forward, bumping your hips against his.

You could feel his hands trailing down your body, catching in the bend of your waist, and you wanted so badly to shift down, pressing your bodies flush together, just to see what he would do. Fuck, he’d pulled you into his lap, and the provocativity of such an action only put you more out of sorts than you already were.

Breathless, you broke the kiss, meeting his hooded gaze with your own as you rolled your hips down, and oh, the way his eyes fluttered closed, the way his grip grew tighter on your body, it sent any remaining rational thought you had right out the nearest window.

You squeezed your thighs around his hips as you pressed yourself down again, and his jaw tightened, fingers pressing into your flesh through the fabric of your uniform. His gaze was dark as he regarded you, amber eyes sweeping across your body, seemingly hungry for what he was seeing. It thrilled you more than you thought it would. Overwhelmed, you dove forward to catch his mouth in another kiss, and he sighed into you, his lips moving languidly against your, almost indulgent as he pressed closer.

He pulled back suddenly, forehead against yours, breath heavy, and you tried to move to catch his mouth with yours again. He allowed you the impulse for a few frenzied seconds before he moved away, and for a horrible moment, you thought you’d done something wrong.

“Is this alright?” He asked, and the way his voice had deepened to a baritone rumble sent your head off into space, “you and I both know the direction this is taking us.”

You did. If you continued at this pace, you knew exactly what would happen. Anyone with common sense would know. This was something out of a dirty fantasy, something you’d shamefully thought of on lonely nights, something out of one of those silly erotic web novels you found yourself reading on boring days off. It was exciting and sexy, and you didn’t want it to stop. Here he was, the object of your pining, of your recently thought to be unrequited affections, asking what you wanted at that moment. Who were you to refuse?

“Yes,” you said, after you’d found your own voice, high and breathy in contrast to his, “I’m okay with this. I want this.”

A soft hum, and you felt your heart jump into your throat as his head dipped, mouth dragging along the bit of your throat left exposed by your uniform. You couldn’t help but gasp, almost embarrassed at your own sensitivity.

“Aeons, you’re lovely,” he breathed, enraptured, “I am left in awe every day I see you.”

You felt your face warm, your voice lost as he peppered kisses along your jaw. His hands slid down your body to find your thighs, calloused palms pressing against the skin, left exposed by the shorts attached to your uniform. He used the grip to tug you closer, firmly pressing your pelvis against his, an action that caused both of you to gasp aloud.

He held you in place as he rolled his hips, slow and easy, the friction making you gasp. He was already halfway hard, evident through his trousers, and the thought that you’d been the one to make him that way made intoxicating arousal flood into your bloodstream.

His fingers caught the buttons at your collar, fumbling to push them through the buttonholes. Once that was done, you reached to the front of your waist to unfasten your belt, which was holding the top of your uniform in place. After it was loose, you slipped the garments from your body, discarding them to the floor.

You barely had time to think before Jing Yuan was exploring the newly exposed parts of you, his mouth latching onto the bend of your shoulder, the column of your throat, the underside of your chin. His hands, warm and calloused against your naked waist, made you shudder, breath leaving your lips in a shaky sigh as his tongue passed over your pulse point.

You had trouble finding exactly where his armor ended and he began, but you eventually found the buckles necessary to unfasten the thick plating from his body. He helped you with this endeavor, eventually shedding his wrist guards and shirt, as well as the armor at his waist, leaving him bare chested beneath you.

He was built powerfully, like the Aeons themselves had sculpted him by hand. Muscles rippled under the flat press of your palm, his perfect pale skin only marred by the threads of countless battle scars. Broad, strong shoulders and arms, a well-built chest, all tapering off into a trim waist. You ran your fingers down his body, feeling his muscles tense, quivering, breath catching as your thumb caught the jut of his hip bone, settling into the groove of muscle at his navel.

His gaze was riveted to your hand as you explored his body, only dropping away when your mouth attached to his neck, teeth grazing his collarbone, making him sigh with shuddering breath. Your fingers mapped their way across his scars, and you absently wondered what the cause of each one was. You kissed the one closest to you, a thick, pale stripe of skin cutting across his left shoulder, ending just above his pectoral. You felt his nose press into your hair, and for a moment, you simply rested your cheek against his shoulder in a little bubble of intimacy that settled so perfectly into your comfort zone that you almost had trouble breaking away.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, softly, and you heard him chuckle, the sound like a roll of thunder beneath your ear.

“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, “that word is reserved for you.”

He drew you close and into another fierce kiss, stealing your breath from your lungs, and you could feel his hands on your back as he unfastened your bra, pushing the straps down your shoulders. You took the bra off the rest of the way, dropping it behind you as you rolled your hips against him, an action that caused him to grip at your body, and oh , you could feel him, hardness pressing neatly against your clothed cunt. Teeth clicked together as he rocked his hips, holding you against him, the friction drawing a soft, breathy moan.

His palm slid along your body, cupping your breast, and when his thumb swiped over your nipple, you let out an embarrassingly loud gasp, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he squeezed the nipple between two fingers. You were so unexpectedly sensitive, just from this alone, a fact that would have embarrassed you if your head wasn’t so full of clouds and fluff and other emptiness, drunk on his touch.

His mouth found your pulse point again, tracing down to your collarbone, then to the valley of your breasts, and your back bowed as his hand smoothed along your spine to rest between your shoulder blades, breath and body shuddering as his lips passed over a nipple. His breath was hot as it misted over your skin, and when his lips finally caught a nipple between them, you let your head fall back, gasping and breathless.

Jing Yuan’s tongue passed over the sensitive flesh, rolling your nipple beneath it, and he caught your opposite breast in his free hand, gently squeezing, making you whine, soft and low. The pleasure of it all felt like fire beneath your skin, burning you from the inside out, but not one part of you cared, not when he was touching you like that.

You pushed yourself against him harder, because feeling him through clothing was rapidly becoming not nearly enough, a sentiment he clearly shared from the way you felt him groan against your skin.

“Can I touch you?” He rasped, and you nodded quickly, shifting to unfasten the tie holding your shorts closed, briefly standing to slip them off, as well as your panties, before you were moving back into his lap, completely bare.

“You’re incredible,” he rumbled, “a goddess. I hope you know that. I am a very lucky man.”

His hand pressed against your hip, making your shift back, and your face flushed in embarrassment as he took in your naked form, gaze famished and punch drunk in love as it roved over you.

“I want to touch you, too,” you said, and he simply smiled.

“I’m yours to do with as you please.”

His hand slipped from your hip to your thigh, and you shifted your hips back, allowing him room to maneuver as he pressed a broad palm to the apex of your thighs, causing you to gasp, hips unconsciously pressing down. His middle finger ran along the length of your entrance, aided by the soak of your arousal, slow as he pleased, leaving your head full of fog. You pressed your hips down against his hand, lip catching between your teeth as he picked up his pace, free hand gripping your hip to still you as one finger slowly sunk inside of you.

He began to move at an agonizingly slow pace, and you moaned lowly as his finger curled inside of you, hitting a spot that made stars burst across your vision. He touched you in a way that stole your breath from your lungs, and when he added another finger, his name slipped from your lips, soft and pleading.

You reached forward to fumble with the front of his trousers, managing to unsnap and unzip them after a few seconds. He hissed between his teeth as you pushed his underwear down, pulling him free, and shit, you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this. Jing Yuan wasn’t a small man, so you supposed this shouldn’t have come as a shock, but he was big. He was thick, and long enough to make you nervous, and when you reached forward and wrapped your hand around him, your fingers barely even met.

His breath hitched sharply when you touched him, and you felt him twitch against your palm, throbbing. When his fingers curled inside of you, you squeezed him, making him cry out. You touched him in slow, even strokes as your hips ground down on his hand, and when his thumb found your clit, you picked up the pace.

His head fell against the back of the bench as you squeezed his tip, circling your thumb around him, making him groan, low and long, hips bucking into your touch. He was leaking precum, and you used it to aid in your motions, smearing it around the head of his dick, making his own motions falter for a moment.

You wanted him so badly at that moment, as you watched his pretty face twist with pleasure, with need. You could feel your climax building, winding tighter under your skin, driving a high, breathless wine from between your gritted teeth as you ground your hips down harder. When he sped up his pace to aid you, your hips jumped, heartbeat pounding in your ears, and you were grinding down on his hand like a bitch in heat.

You really weren’t going to last, not when he knew exactly where to touch you, fingers practiced and sure, and fuck, you felt like you were melting into him, fingers slipping from his cock to grip at his shoulders, your ability to focus rapidly draining away.

Your head dropped back in pleasure as he worked you even closer to your high, allowing him room to latch his mouth onto your throat, surely leaving marks as his teeth dragged against your skin, but you hardly had the wherewithal to even begin to care about that, not as your thoughts and senses devolved into complete delirium.

With a final press of his thumb, you tumbled over the edge with a broken cry, nails digging into Jing Yuan’s skin as you came. He worked you through it with whispered filth and an unfaltering pace, making you sob with rapture, squirming helplessly as he worked you into overstimulation, dangerously close to a second climax before he pulled away.

You collapsed, boneless and panting against his chest, and he drew you close, mouth hot as it molded to yours, and as you shifted forward, you could feel him, pressed against your bare stomach.

The friction made him groan, hands on your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin, but you needed more, and you knew he wouldn’t protest giving you just that.

“How do you want me?” Jing Yuan rasped, “do you want to be on top? It may be more comfortable for you to adjust that way. I’m afraid I don’t have protection, though. That does not tend to be something I keep here in my office.”

“I’m on birth control,” you said, “it will be okay.”

After a moment of consideration, you shifted forward to press yourself against him, an action that earned a breathless groan. He felt hot against you, almost searing, and as you slowly rolled your hips, you felt his grip grow tighter, almost impatient. A spike of arousal shot through you as his jaw tightened, his restraint clearly being tested by your teasing.

Slowly, you began to sink down. You were met with some resistance, even just the tip was a stretch, and you had to pause for a moment, just to catch your breath, which was escaping your lips in quick bursts.

“Relax,” he urged, voice low; tone taught and fraying, “breathe. You can take it.”

A quick nod as you tried to do as he said, resting your forehead against his shoulder. You pushed down further, drawing a hushed groan, his hands slipping from your hips to your waist, gently urging you downwards. It took another few moments of adjusting before you were able to take all of him, and you sat there for a few moments, breathless and stuffed completely full.

His head lolled back against the bench, expression stricken and lips parted, and you pulled him into a kiss, which he returned with vigor. You stayed still as you adjusted to the size, something that clearly wasn’t helping with keeping his restraint in place, evident from the way he was gripping your body, tight enough to bruise.

Just to test the waters, you shifted forward in a slow, easy grind, and he groaned, long and low and aching. You whined into his mouth, toes curling as you rolled your hips again, just to hear that wonderful sound again.

His hands drifted back to your hips, squeezing as you moved again, this time lifting yourself halfway up, only to take him again, and he was surely leaving bruises, absolutely holding back, especially as you thrust back down again.

“Tight,” he whispered, “it’s— fuck— it’s so tight.”

That did it for you. You put your hands on his shoulders as you picked up the pace, forcing the breath from your own lungs, rendering him speechless as he watched you, eyes fixed to where the two of you were connected, watching his thick cock disappear inside of you.

The stretch of him made you feel like your mind had emptied itself out, and you let out a thin, breathy moan as his hips bucked up, stuffing you full as your nails dug into his shoulders. You yanked him into a messy kiss, hands lacing into his hair, and he growled against your mouth, a sound that sent shockwaves down your spine.

Another tug at his hair, and you were moving, your back suddenly against the desk, chess pieces scattering around you as he rucked your legs up, pulling them against his hips as he pressed close. You cried out, the new angle making the tip of his cock rub just right against spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

You lifted your hips from the desk to meet him, propping yourself up on bent elbows as he leaned over you to join your lips to his. The pace he set was slow, but the strong impact of each thrust made it impossible for you to think , or to even speak as his hands slid along your thighs to the bend of your knees, holding you in place for him as he fucked you.

The kiss was broken, and he rested his forehead against yours, just for a spell, before he was drawing back a little, hips pressing forward, and one of his hands was moving between your bodies, clit under his thumb, forcing you to tighten around him, forcing broken gasps from both of you.

“Deeper,” you found yourself blurting, and he chuckled darkly against your skin.

“If that’s what pleases you.”

Your head fell back in bliss as he changed the angle, the speed picking up as well, and you could do nothing else but gasp his name, sprawling back over the desk as he reduced you to a mess, beginning to wind tighter once more, thighs trembling in his grip.

You were still sensitive from your last climax, something he was undoubtedly aware of as he touched you in all the right places, as his mouth found your breast, tongue passing over your nipple and making your back arch into his touch. It was too much, but also not nearly enough, something that was as oxymoronic as it was maddening.

Your hands scrambled across the smooth surface of the desk before finally curling around the edge, nails digging into the wood, and you watched Jing Yuan above you with hazy eyes; watched the way his face twisted and pinched in bliss. He was thick and heavy and hot inside of you, and you were not going to last, not like this, not when he was whispering filth and praises and fucking you so deep that you could barely tell where he started and you ended.

The pressure of his thumb on your clit picked up, and you squirmed in his hold, the back of your head knocking against the surface of the desk underneath it, your eyes squeezing closed, the delirious, desperate feeling that comes before a climax bleeding into your system, threading its way through you, leaving you utterly helpless to its pull.

You were barely aware of what you were even saying, but you knew his name was on your lips, and you were so close that you could hardly take it, but he wasn’t slowing down, not even as you bucked and squirmed and shook under his touch.

The edge came quicker than you’d have pleased, and your back bowed up as you came undone, trying and failing to stray quiet as your high washed over you with tidal wave force. You were throbbing around him, squeezing him tight, and you could hear him growling in pleasure, feel him twitch inside of you, only driving you higher as your eyes rolled back behind closed lids, lips parted, cheeks flushed pink.

But he wasn’t letting up, not even as you squirmed with overstimulation, clamping a hand over your mouth to try and quiet yourself, barely able to handle the continued stimulation. The stretch of him inside of you and the feel of his thumb on your clit was making you feel like you were losing yourself, and if he knew that, he was only encouraging it.

You wanted him to cum, to feel him lose himself too, to see it on his face as he spilled himself inside of you, just as drunk on bliss as you were. You locked your ankles together behind his body, pushing him deeper, and you got the privilege of listening to him groan.

Your second climax knocked the wind out of you, and it was only then that he was pulling his hand away, fucking you through the aftershocks of the climax, but the base of his cock was rubbing against your oversensitive clit, prolonging your high, and building you towards another one.

His hand found your hip, holding you down as his pace picked up to something almost punishing as he chased his own climax, and you found yourself scrambling forward to grab onto him, kissing him hard and deep, hips moving with his and making him moan into your mouth, grip tightening on your body as he pushed you back onto your back, one hand flattening on your lower stomach to hold you down as he thrust all the way in, staying close as he rolled his hips in slow, deep rocks that made you feel like you were burning alive, but you could do no more than lay there and take it as he worked you into another dizzying climax.

It hit you with a force that made you scream, forcing you to clamp a hand over your mouth, the tears that had caught in your lashes leaking down your cheeks, and his thrusts were growing uneven, breath unsteady. You felt him shudder, hips twitching, sending jolts of almost painful pleasure through your spent body, making you whine.

With a low, unrestrained moan, he was thrusting deep as he could go, and you could feel him trembling , grip iron tight on your body as he spilled inside of you, and you pulled him down into a fierce kiss, bucking your hips to work him through his climax. He moaned against your mouth, gasping your name when you deliberately squeezed around him, breaking the kiss to sink his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his unrestrained cries.

You felt him begin to soften inside of you, though he remained close, arms wrapped around your body as you gasped for breath. It was with almost palpable reluctance that he pulled out, and after gathering you into his arms, he was falling back to sit on the bench behind him, chest heaving, eyes closed.

A few moments passed of just laying together before he was moving for a drawer in his desk, and you realized he was reaching for a package of tissues, which he used to wipe your thighs clean, depositing the tissue in the trash can tucked beneath the desk. You grabbed your panties from the floor, tugging them back on before settling beside him once again.

“I didn’t picture that happening for the first time here,” he said, after a few moments of comfortable silence, “though I can’t say I’m complaining.”

Despite everything, you felt your cheeks warm. It was definitely comical that you were blushing at that of all things after he’d just fucked your brains out, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped.

“Where did you picture it?” You asked, settling closer to him, smiling as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“Preferably my bedroom,” he said, “or yours. I wanted to at least take you out first. Call me old fashioned, but I’m quite fond of the act of courtship.”

You smiled. “We can still do that.”

A chuckle. “Yes. You’re quite right.”

For as long as possible (and until you started to get cold), the two of you sat curled up together on the bench before Jing Yuan suggested getting dressed, which didn’t sound like a bad idea. But it wasn’t until you tried to stand that you realized that might be a problem.

“This is your fault,” you said, as he helped you put your shorts back on, and he smiled, as calm as ever.

“And I’d do it again.”

That, you weren’t ashamed to say, made you blush. From the smirk on his face, that was exactly his intention. You shot him a glare, but it was short lived when he pressed a kiss to your forehead, offering you a hand to help you up.

Your legs were still wobbly, but with his support, you were able to stand.

“Well, love,” he said, “since we’re doing things in reverse order, how about lunch? We can take the rest of the day off, go back to my home?”

You leaned closer to him, lacing your fingers tight with his. “I’d like that.”

He kissed you, slow and gentle, before he led you from the Seat of Divine Foresight, leaving the mess of forgotten chess pieces scattered across the floor, chatting happily about what restaurants he thought you’d like.

You never did finish that game.

Though, of course, there would be others in the future.

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knoepfl · 3 days ago

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A Gift Beneath the Waters

11/24

Characters

• Silco: The calculated and ambitious leader of Zaun, a man hardened by betrayal and responsibility. Beneath his stern exterior lies a rare softness reserved for someone he deeply trusts and values.

• Reader (You): Silco’s partner, someone who sees beyond his intimidating demeanor and strives to bring warmth and care into his life, even amidst the chaos of Zaun.

Trigger Warnings

• Themes of power and control: Silco’s characterization includes his struggles with trust and vulnerability.

• Melancholy atmosphere: The narrative carries a subtle undercurrent of Silco’s burdens and the harsh realities of Zaun.

Masterlist

Words: 768

Christmas.

---

The underground city of Zaun shimmered faintly under the glow of chem-lights and softly glowing trinkets hastily strung along the edges of dilapidated buildings. The air was thick with the usual tang of chemicals, but there was a strange warmth in the atmosphere—a warmth that had nothing to do with the city’s harsh environment.

You weren’t sure how much Silco cared for such traditions. He was a man of ambition and strategy, and he rarely allowed sentimentality to cloud his thoughts. But tonight, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. After all, you had gone to great lengths to prepare something for him, a small token to show him that, despite the weight of his responsibilities, he wasn’t alone.

Clutching the carefully wrapped box in your hands, you made your way through the winding corridors of his base. The guards let you pass without question, their stoic faces softening slightly at the sight of you. Silco had made it clear to everyone that you were someone he valued—a rarity in his life.

Pushing open the heavy doors to his office, you found him seated at his desk, a cigar smoldering between his fingers as he reviewed a stack of documents. The faint light from the large window behind him cast an ethereal glow around his silhouette, highlighting the scar that marked his face.

“Busy as ever, I see,” you teased, stepping into the room.

Silco glanced up, his mismatched eyes softening when they met yours. “And what brings you here, my dear?” he asked, his voice smooth, though a hint of curiosity laced his tone.

You held up the box, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I come bearing gifts.”

He arched an eyebrow, setting his cigar in an ashtray. “A gift? For me?”

“Well, you are the man who runs all of Zaun,” you said, walking closer. “You deserve something special.”

Placing the box on the desk in front of him, you stepped back, your hands clasped nervously behind your back. Silco eyed the package with a mix of intrigue and amusement before carefully peeling back the wrapping.

Inside was a sleek, silver pocketknife, its blade engraved with intricate patterns that resembled the flow of water. The handle was smooth and dark, etched with the unmistakable shimmer of hextech.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, picking it up and examining it under the light.

“There’s more,” you said softly, gesturing for him to look closer.

He turned the knife over and saw the inscription on the blade: ‘For the man who fights the tides and rises above.’

Silco’s lips parted slightly, his fingers brushing over the words. For a man who had built his life on strength and control, there was a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, a momentary crack in his armor.

“I thought…” you began, your voice faltering slightly. “I thought you could use something personal. Something just for you.”

He set the knife down and rose from his chair, his sharp eyes locking onto yours. “You went through all this trouble for me?”

“Of course,” you replied, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “You do so much for everyone else, Silco. You deserve something to remind you of how extraordinary you are.”

A slow, genuine smile curved his lips—a rare sight, reserved only for you. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek.

“You continue to surprise me,” he said, his voice low and filled with a depth that made your heart flutter. “In a world filled with betrayal and greed, you bring… light.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Don’t go soft on me now, Silco. It’s just a knife.”

“It’s more than that,” he replied, his thumb brushing against your skin. “It’s a reminder that I am not alone. That I have you.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled over you, heavy with meaning. You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

“You’ll always have me,” you whispered.

For a moment, the chaos of Zaun faded into the background. Silco leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then another to your lips—a kiss that spoke of trust, admiration, and something deeper, something he rarely allowed himself to feel.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmured against his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” he echoed, his voice a quiet promise.

The night passed in a rare stillness, the two of you wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. And though the city outside churned on in its endless struggle, here, in the glow of his office, Silco allowed himself to feel something he rarely did: peace.

---

#fanfic #oc #fanfiction #fluff #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane fanfiction #silco fanfic #arcane silco #silco #silco x reader #silco arcane #arcane x you #Silco Arcane #Christmas #Christmas present

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scrollonso · 1 month ago

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Careful — Carlando

@ellearts fueled my ideas...

Carlos knew he shouldn't, he had no business starting anything with the 19-year-old rookie he was supposed to be mentoring. But it wasn't entirely his fault. Lando was the one who had kissed him so innocently, confessing he liked him more than he should. Lando's shy, uncertain soft lips had felt so good on his own, and he couldn't bring himself to deny the sweet boy a thing, even if it was their first kiss.

It soon became something they did when they were alone, after their training sessions; they kissed often. Nothing serious, just a few reassuring pecks when Lando aced a lap time or when Lando would pout because he didn't understand a strategy. Lando would always smile so cutely, clinging to Carlos like there was no other place he'd be. Carlos liked that, liked it a lot.

The kisses eventually turned into full-on make-out sessions, and before long, Carlos didn't know how he went without it before. Tongue kisses were the best, especially because Lando would make the cutest gasps and moans, not so silently begging for more. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before Lando was spreading his legs for him, asking for more, and Carlos had a weak constitution when it came to saying no to Lando.

Which would explain their current situation at the moment. They were in the team's motorhome, supposed to be reviewing race data, but somehow Lando had shifted in his seat until he ended up in Carlos's lap. To anyone walking by, they would look like two friends discussing strategy. When in reality, Lando had made a home there, rubbing his tempting ass against the driver's lap continuously. Carlos had tried to ignore it at first and focus on the data on the screen, but Lando made it so difficult.

Suddenly, he heard something that sounded like a pen falling to the floor and rolling under the table.

"Silly me! I dropped my pen!" Lando says with faux surprise, a smile tethering on his lips. He slides down from Carlos's lap until his knees hit the soft carpet.

"Lando," Carlos warns tentatively and is only met with innocent eyes and a palm on the growing tent in his pants. "We're in public, we can't. Someone could walk by and see us."

A playful grin graces Lando's cute face. "Your cock doesn't share the same sentiment, Carlos." He presses harder against his teammates growing erection.

Carlos grabs Lando by the jaw from under the table, forcing him to look up at him. "That's because I have an eager little slut in my lap." His grip is almost too rough, but he knows it only turns Lando on further.

Lando let out an airy laugh but didn't respond, busying himself with freeing his teammates thick cock from its tight confines. Carlos looked around with caution; there was no one in their general area due to the time of day, but he could see a few mechanics in the distance between shelves. If they were to look up, turn their heads, or walk over, they would see them. For some reason, though, that wasn't enough for Carlos to stop Lando from licking his cockhead into his wet mouth. In fact, he grabbed hold of Lando's curls and watched the teen eagerly choke himself on his dick.

"Fuck, Lando," Carlos whispered thinly into the air. His eyes lowered, swallowing down his sounds of pleasure as Lando blew him, his slick tongue sliding up and down his underside with practiced movement. Lando made for such a pretty sight. He had everyone fooled into thinking he was a sweet kid from a nice family, and while those things were all true, they didn't know the kind of cockslut Lando really was. Something that Carlos had a part in.

Just as he was getting into the tight warmth of Lando's throat, the latter pulled off with a wet pop. He stroked the length while staring at Carlos with what could only be described as 'fuck me' eyes.

"I can't focus correctly unless I'm stuffed with you. You made me this way, Carlos, take responsibility!"

Curse Lando's silver tongue. Their frequent sexual activity had made the once shy, inexperienced teen into a confident little deviant who knew exactly what he liked and how to get what he wanted from his teammate. And Carlos, despite how he pretended to be the voice of reason, was just as weak for Lando and his intentions.

He tugs Lando up and back into his lap, the teen's legs around his waist. Carlos slots their mouths together, dipping his tongue past Lando's more than willing lips, tasting himself there. The teen moans needily, trying to pull Carlos closer, but the latter's grip remains as a reminder of who was really in charge. Carlos's fingers trail down Lando's body, lifting his baby blue sweater to stroke his soft tummy before going towards his goal; unbuttoning his pants with trained fingers. Lando keens into his mouth as Carlos rubs his slick clit through his underwear.

"So wet and we only just started reviewing. You need it that bad, Lando?" Carlos asks, his digits pushing the thin fabric aside to slide along Lando's folds.

Lando covers his mouth with his sweater sleeve, his eyes already glazing over as he nods erratically.

Carlos shakes his head, feigning disappointment when in reality his cock throbs with arousal from the pretty boy in his lap. "You're in no position to continue working like this. I'll have to take care of you like a good teammate so you can focus again."

He pulls back and stands. Lando whines needily and prepares to beg, but then he's being turned and shoved forward on the top of the open lapop. Lando braces himself on the hard table and looks back at Carlos with wide eyes.

"I thought you were worried about someone seeing us," Lando teases lightly, watching his teammate stroke his throbbing length.

"Then we're gonna have to be really quiet, hm?" Carlos says, with a crooked smirk. He knew it was a risk; they were in a public place after all, and anyone, mechanic or team principle, could fall victim to the role of innocent bystander and witness their debauchery. They risked serious consequences if they got caught, but for some reason, that just excited Carlos more, and he knew Lando felt the same.

He trails his fingers against the soft inner thighs of Lando, admiring the way he trembles under his touch.

"Papi," Lando urges, but quickly regrets it when Carlos spreads his lips to view his pink entrance. He bites his sleeve, the soft blue slowly darkening, to quiet his moan.

Carlos couldn't put up a front; he was just as addicted to Lando as Lando was to him. As he pressed the tip of his cock past Lando's fat folds, he knew he'd never grow tired of the delicious heat enveloping his length. Lando moaned, rolling his hips back against his dick until Carlos was balls-deep inside his cunt.

"Fuck, Lando, you're gonna be the death of me," Carlos whispers low enough for only them to hear.

"Papi fills me up so well—!" Lando gasps when Carlos slaps his palm over his mouth, shoving his fingers in.

"Lower your voice," Carlos warns, his cock twitching inside Lando's tight snatch. "We have to be quiet. You can do that for me, right, amor?"

Carlos can't tell if Lando whines from the endearing pet name or because he hasn't moved yet, but it really doesn't matter because the teen bows his head lower and gives him a shaky nod. He smiles, dipping his digits down on Lando's plush tongue.

"Good boy. Now let Papi take care of you." He purrs, slowly backing his cock out before plunging back inside. He finds a steady pace, not wanting to go too fast, despite how much he knew Lando wanted him to, knowing if he really went all out, there would be nothing stopping Lando from wailing on his dick.

Lando holds the edge of the table with his hands, bracing himself for the hard thrusts that manage to drive them both insane with lust. The warm glide of Lando's walls feels even tighter, and Carlos couldn't believe he was fucking his teammate boyfriend in the team's garage. It was far more arousing than anything had prepared him for. It was true that anyone could see them, see him pounding into Lando who was pinned underneath him, taking each inch like a good boy, but Carlos couldn't bring himself to care in the moment.

Lando heeds Carlos's warning, barely makes a peep, his mouth stuffed with his sweater sleeve and Carlos's fingers. Only a few small gasps escape, and it's kind of disappointing for Carlos. One of the things that pushed Carlos over the edge was Lando's incessant moans and breathy calls for his "Carlos." If Lando was truly quiet, it wasn't nearly as fun.

"Baby," Carlos says, his voice soft and affirming. He moves his fingers under Lando's sweater, rubbing over his sensitive nubs. Lando audibly whines, but not nearly as loud as he usually would. "Come on, Lando, you can voice how it feels for me, can't you?"

Lando sniffles, the sound is unmistakable to Carlos's ears, and he stops mid-thrust. He turns Lando over so he's laying spread open on top of their work material, his swollen pussy and tight taint on full display for his teammate, and while the sight itself is magnificent, it's not what captures Carlos's gaze.

"Fuck, baby, are you crying?" Carlos asks, even though the answer is right in front of him. Lando's watery eyes with a reddish hue and tear stains down his cheeks. The driver's cock throbs, and he has to stop everything in himself to not come from his boyfriend's helpless face.

Lando nods. "F— feels good but I have to be quiet for Papi." He rasps, and Carlos bites back a groan. Within all the times they had fucked, Lando had never cried. He would whimper and moan about how good it felt, but Carlos hadn't seen him ever shed tears. His eyes were a soft green haze, half-lidded, pupils blown wide, and his bitten lips hung open just enough for his slick pink tongue to poke out. He already looked entirely fucked out, and they weren't even done yet. Christ.

"Feels that good, Lando? Baby crying cause he can't moan like the whore he is?" Carlos coos as Lando sniffles again, looking so gone and pathetic. Carlos taps his tip against Lando's wet pussy before pressing back inside. "My baby is so pretty even when you're crying. I know it's hard to hide your voice, but we have to be quiet unless you want to be found out."

Lando shakes his head in understanding, his arms reach for Carlos, holding him close by his shoulders. The position was entirely uncomfortable, the books' hard covers and pointy edges pressing into their bodies, but Carlos couldn't care less about the pain his body would be in later. The teen under him, completely capturing his attention.

"Tell me how it feels," Carlos urges.

"A-ah, Carlos," Lando pants, millimeters away from Carlos's parted lips. "So good, I wan' you to cum in me, please, please. Haven't I been good, Carlos, wan' it so bad," He's babbling, more desperate tears fall, and Carlos can't resist grabbing him by the jaw and dragging his tongue over his soft cheeks, licking up the wetness. He moans deeply, even Lando's tears tasted sweet.

"Sí, Lando, you've been a perfect teammate, you deserve a reward for your hard work," Carlos kisses his boy, his hips fixated on a slow deep thrust to avoid making the table shake. Lando yanks him close until their faces are touching, allowing Carlos to hear every delicious whine right next to his ear.

"P-Papi 's so dirty for fucking me in a library, but I love it. Your big cock makes me feel so full, hits every spot, love it so much," Lando whispers a bar of lewd words before biting Carlos's ear. "Cum in me, Carlos."

Carlos is finished upon hearing that, he slams his hips into Lando one last time, his cock twitching as he fills the teen up with his load.

"Fuck, Lando," he gasps loud, muffling his noise into Lando's neck and sweater. His release rocks through him, and for a moment, he forgets where they are, only able to focus on Lando and his filthy words that sent him to the brim.

Lando kisses Carlos lazily as he orgasms himself, legs holding his teammate's waist while they both come down.

"Lando... you did that on purpose," Carlos says later, putting his spent cock away while Lando carefully adjusts his pants back on his waist.

Lando smiles, only reaffirming Carlos's suspicions. "You were being a pervert about me crying so I wanted Papi to lose control too."

Carlos can't find it in himself to be actually bothered. He came harder inside Lando while having discreet sex in the back corner of the garage than any other location. Lando's words were just fire to the fuse.

"How can I not? You drive me crazy," Carlos smirks, rather pleased that his partner was just as perverted as he was. He adjusts his glasses and looks at the table. The laptop had random letters typed into various locations on the spreadhseet they had opened. Carlos deletes them, double checking before shutting the computer. He then turns to Lando, whose cheeks still wore a hint of pink. He licks his lips.

"...How about we skip work today?"

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