#hidden signal: evergreen

[training4theapocalypse]

minors, people I know irl - DNI - this is fucked up

Yandere Billionaire Jeffrey Steinberg x fem reader

warnings: non-con, yandere, breeding, kidnapping, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Deactivated

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT, the most extreme non-con I have ever written, forced bondage, edging, forced orgasm, kidnapping, forced impregnation

Summary: When the apocalypse hit, you, Jeffrey Steinberg and eight of the world's other greatest minds were trapped in an underground ecosphere. This is an AU where the betas kill Nico and McKenna so Jeffrey hatches a plan to repopulate the world. (Full disclosure: That plan involves strapping you to a table and getting you pregnant.)

A/N: Genuinely might kink-shame myself into deleting this in the morning. Rape and forced pregnancy are incomprehensibly awful in the real world. This fic is intended to be an escapist fantasy. PS This is the only fic my partner has refused to proofread for me so apologies for typos.

Chapter text:

200 days.

200 days was all it took for the men of Evergreen to decide you were nothing more than vessels to be used to repopulate this hellhole of an underground ecosphere.

When they lined you up and began debating who belonged to whom, you and Ida took your chance to execute your hastily pulled-together plan.

Ida slipped a sickle she’d stolen from her agriculture station into a belt loop behind her back. You had pocketed a wrench from your mechanic’s workbench. You weren’t going down without a fight. 

When Jeffrey Steinberg looked you over, dictating your height, weight, blood type and other vital stats from Cortex’s electronic display, you took your chance and whacked him on the side of the head with the wrench. 

Then - chaos.

Ida grappled with David who caught her wrist as she slashed wildly with her sickle.

You were knocked off your feet and pinned to the ground.

Yelling.

Fighting.

You only remember Cortex being commanded to deactivate you before you were sucked into a black oblivion of nothingness. A door closing. More nothingness. The same door. Nothingness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up with a gasp - coughing, choking on air.

You’re in a hospital room. A brief glimmer of optimism that this was all just a coma-induced nightmare vanishes in an instant when with a sinking feeling of recognition, you realise you’re not just in any hospital - you’re in Evergreen’s hospital. David’s doctor’s office. This nightmare is real. And it’s only just beginning.

You’re in stirrups. Wearing a hospital gown. With your arms shackled above your head.

Oh, fuck.

You try to move your legs from the stirrups but they’re fastened tight. The handcuffs around your wrists only dig in when you try to slip your hands from them.

There’s an electronic beep and the door slides open.

Instinctively, you try to close your legs together. Preserve your last shred of dignity but your attempt is futile - the stirrups don’t move.

“Nice of you to join us,” says Jeffrey. Anger flares up in you when you see him. To think that you ever had even the tiniest romantic feelings towards such an awful human being. 

“Us?!” you ask shrilly, a fresh wave of panic sending a jolt of adrenaline through your veins.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Just an expression.” Jeffrey presses a few buttons on the door panel, locking it behind him. “It’s only me.”

You should have guessed from the start that he’d be a monster. 

Nobody becomes a billionaire without stepping on a few toes or, indeed, crushing a few skulls. Everyone else here hated Jeffrey Steinberg from the outset. But you? At the start of all of this, you had actually liked him. The two of you had spent your spare hours flirting with each other. You were like two peas in a pod working to fix Cortex. Mechanic and Programmer. Hardware and Software. Yin and Yang. It only made the betrayal worse when, mere days after Nico and McKenna were both killed by Nico’s experiments on human cloning, Jeffrey had decided that you and the rest of the women were to be reduced to glorified incubators.

“Only you?” you spit. “For now, right? Whose turn is it next?”

He shakes his head and stands adjacent to you at the head of the bed. This small movement to respect what little dignity you have left doesn’t give you much comfort when you know what’s next. “It’s not like that,” says Jeffrey.

You laugh although there’s nothing funny about the situation you find yourself in. “What’s it like, then?”

“It’s just you and me. I chose you and that’s one of our rules - David, Axel and I’s rules, I mean.”

“So you care about rules now?” you ask. “What about laws?”

“I care about the rules I make because there are no laws.”

You scowl at him with all the hate you can muster. “Who undressed me? Who strapped me up like this while I was deactivated?”

“David. It was entirely clinical. He’s your doctor, after all.”

“And you believe that? I could be pregnant already. In fact, come to think of it - I do feel kind of nauseous,” you say looking at him in distaste. “Or maybe that’s just the effect of the present company.”

He smiles. A perfect, arrogant smile that reaches his green eyes. “See? This is why I like you. You always have so much fight.”

“Get me out of these handcuffs and you’ll really like me, you piece of shit,” you hiss, pulling at your restraints.

“I know you think you’re angry but this is humanity’s last chance for survival,” says Jeffrey, picking up the tablet with your vitals on it from your bedside table.

“Look at yourself. Humanity is already dead.”

“After the betas killed Nico and McKenna, this is the only way we can survive.”

“You’re a psychopath if you think living like this is better than dying.”

“It’s about more than just living. It’s about our entire species going extinct.”

You stare at each other in silence for a few moments. You absolutely hate that even under these circumstances, you find yourself blushing when he looks at you for too long.

“Fine. Go ahead with your turkey baster and get this over with,” you say, breaking eye contact with him and staring furiously ahead. 

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

You hold your breath as Jeffrey puts the tablet down and walks to the bottom of the examination bed standing directly between your open legs. Something long and metallic glints in his hand and you attempt to shrink back.

“Safety scissors.” He holds them up so you can see the blunt ends. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Not with scissors, maybe, but you clearly have different definitions of what hurting another person means. 

Jeffrey holds the end of your hospital gown and cuts upwards, careful even with the blunt ends of the scissors, not to touch the cool metal to your skin. Your chest heaves as the scissors split open the fabric over your tits and you close your eyes when they reach your neckline. You keep your eyes tight shut, listening to the snipping of the scissors as he cuts the fabric of your sleeves and pulls the gown away, leaving you entirely naked on David’s examination bed. Your nipples harden when you feel the cool breeze of the air conditioning fanning over them. 

Jeffrey lets out a low exhale. “Your fight wasn’t the only reason I chose you.” You open your eyes to find him staring at your body. “You’re beautiful, you know that, right?” 

Even though you still have to clench your fists to avoid letting him see that your hands are trembling, you feel your core tighten as butterflies erupt in your stomach. Under normal circumstances, you’d have liked to receive a compliment from Jeffrey - have him admire your naked form like this. But you remind yourself your current circumstances are as far away from normal as you could get.

“Don’t compliment me, you psychopath.”

He steps closer between your open legs and places his hands on your hips. There’s nowhere to cringe away to - but the sensation isn’t unpleasant. His hands are warm on your skin when he draws his thumbs along your hip bones. You feel goosebumps prickle on your skin as he does.

“Are you cold?” he asks gently.

The contrarian in you wants to argue with everything he says. To admit you’re uncomfortable in your vulnerable state would be giving him the upper hand. But the cool air makes the hair on your arms stand up so instead you swallow. “A - a little,” you answer quietly, deciding there’s no point in being even more uncomfortable than you already are.

“Cortex, turn it up to twenty-two degrees Celsius in here.” There’s a wave of warm air - a blessing on your cold, exposed skin. “That’s the temperature you like, right?” You don’t answer but your fists stop clenching and you can feel where your fingernails have been digging into your palms. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Jeffrey puts the scissors down on the empty hospital rolling tray table. He notices your eyes following them.

“I told you they’re blunt. But I bet you’d like to stab me with something right now,” he teases. “You’ll come around eventually.”

He smiles, teasing you like you’re friends again and this is just a silly game. Like how he did before everything went to shit. “I’ll never come around. If you go through with this, I’ll throw myself down the stairs. I’ll drown myself in the reservoir. I’d rather die than carry your baby.”

“I won’t let that happen. Cortex will be with you day and night.”

“Cortex can’t keep a watch on all of us. The others -”

“The others. Hannah and Ida both relented. They’re excited, even, at the prospect of giving the human race another chance.”

“They relented after being strapped to a table and forcibly impregnated?”

“They went along willingly with Axel and David, respectively.” You can’t ignore the way his thumbs are so tenderly stroking your hip bones.

“And you’ll be able to live with yourself once you’ve done this? Done this to me?”

He shrugs. “I’ve already made peace with it,” says Jeffrey, drawing his thumbs down and massaging your vulva.

You look away, trying to ignore the surge of heat you feel in your core at his touch. “Stop that,” you snipe. “Can’t you just jerk off until you’re close and finish in me?”

“The chances of conception are higher if you cum too,” he says, pushing your outer lips together, putting the tiniest bit of pressure on your clit. You breathe in sharply, freezing for just a second before trying to move your hips away from him to no avail. “Besides, if I know you’re having a good time it makes it much more enjoyable for me.”

“This - this is not my idea of a good time, Jeffrey.”

“I think - deep down - this is exactly your idea of a good time. I see how you look at me.”

You flush, embarrassed that he’s throwing your earlier flirting from weeks ago back in your face. “You’re deluded.”

He tuts gently. “Now, you can’t lie to me when I can see how wet you are already. ”

This time you feel your embarrassment creeping right down to your chest. “I can’t - I can’t help how my body reacts to you touching me - I mean, being touched.”

But he smirks at your slip-up. “Sure. And when you’re begging for my cock in a few minutes, we can pretend you can’t control that either.”

“Fuck you, Jeffrey.” 

“Now that’s the spirit,” he says and your pussy protests when he removes his hands to drag over David’s office chair. You watch as he sits down and wheels closer, his head and shoulders still visible. “God, you have such a pretty little cunt.”

Jeffrey slides two fingers along your slit, dragging your wetness up and over your clit. You turn your head and look away, trying to appear disinterested. You’re determined not to enjoy this. Not to give him anything.

“What’s wrong? Are you worried if you watch that you’ll finish too quickly?” he asks, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he lightly circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers. 

“I’m just wondering if they have a hospital TV so I have something to do while you get this over with,” you say, blandly - a direct contrast with the heat pulsing from your clit. 

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. Not when I can see you soaking the bed.” He runs the two fingers between your lips and holds them up so you can see them glistening and wet under the fluorescent clinical lights. “Do you want to taste it? Make sure I’m not lying?”

You stare at him insolently, refusing to answer.

“What am I saying?” He laughs. “You’d bite my fingers clean off if they came anywhere near your mouth, right?” Jeffrey sucks on his two wet fingers, briefly closing his eyes, before slowly withdrawing them. “Mhm. You’re missing out. You taste so fucking good.”

You hate that he’s hot when he does that. You hate that he’s hot full stop.

Why is the psychopath you're stuck here with hot?

Billionaire CEOs are used to controlling everyone around them. You’re not surprised he’s getting off on having you completely at his mercy. What surprises you is that he’s good at it. 

When he slowly pushes two fingers inside you and curls them up, it’s like he knows it’s exactly what your body needs. You can’t help but gasp, feeling him gently stroking your G-spot. You bite your lip, trying to stifle any further noise involuntarily leaving you.

You don’t want this to feel as good as it does.

You try and leverage yourself up and away from him using your handcuffs but it’s no use when your legs are strapped down. Your ass barely lifts off the bed. He notices but he doesn’t stop tapping his fingers.

“C’mon, where are you going? We’ve barely even started,” he complains before inching his chair closer and pressing his lips against your inner thigh. “Tell me - how much - you want me - to fuck you.” Each pause is punctuated with a kiss or a suck on the sensitive flesh of your thigh as his fingers continue to curl up inside you. 

“You’re crazy if - if - if - ah-” You swallow, watching him smile triumphantly against your soft thigh. Stop, you have to think of something else. You’re a mechanic - not a machine. You can be mentally strong. You don’t have to react automatically when you have these very specific buttons pushed. You exhale steadily. “- If you think I’d ever want you to fuck me.”

But the more you try to appear bored, the more relaxed your body becomes and that only heightens the sensation of Jeffrey toying with your pussy. Feeling your legs untense, he pushes his fingers in deeper and with a jolt of pleasure your back arches. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You curse yourself for making this so easy for him. 

He laughs softly at the way your body becomes pliable under his touch and his hot breath fans over your clit. He picks up pace, tapping firmly against your g-spot. Everything pulls up in you like a spring tightening. 

Oh, fuck. This is it. You’re gonna - 

Suddenly, Jeffrey removes his fingers and frowns. “You know what? Maybe this was a bad idea after all.”

You feel your heartbeat in your ears below your waist screams in protest.

What did he just say? “R - really?” You’re surprised to hear your voice is just a whisper. 

You know you should feel relieved. But you were so close. 

You try to remind yourself to feel victorious. You resisted cumming long enough for him to come to his senses, after all.

“Although…” He tilts his head. “You’re soaked. What a mess you’ve made… somebody should really clean that up.”

You shudder when he draws his tongue all over your entrance, lapping up your arousal with the tip of his tongue before going back for more. He carefully avoids your clit, making sure not even the tip of his nose touches it. You feel the bundle of nerves throbbing, begging for his attention. You want him to notice, to move up just a couple of centimetres and slip his tongue over the sensitive little nub. 

So, you chase it instead. The lower half of your body is in total disregard of your protesting mind. You roll your hips forward hoping to catch his velvet tongue as he mops you up.

“You like this, do you?” smirks Jeffrey and he pulls back to watch your chest heave. You stop your wriggling abruptly, as your brain fights to regain firm control of your actions. “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to cum until my cock is inside you. And the only way that’s going to happen is if you ask for it.”

He looks over you with a smug smile but you’re not going to crack yet.

Are you?

“This is how you’re going to justify it to yourself, then?” you snarl, with renewed pent-up aggression.

“What you’ve got to understand is that I didn’t become a CEO without firstly, having what it takes to make someone break, and secondly, refusing to compromise when it matters most. And you’re going to break long before I decide to compromise.”

He stands up and pinches both of your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and you suck air in through your teeth. “I wonder if you’d let me suck on your nipples today or if you’d try and bite me…” he thinks aloud, with a discerning look into your eyes as if trying to read your mind. Honestly, you’re not sure how you’d react, you feel so dizzy with need that you’re not really processing what he’s saying.

“I think it’s safe this time,” Jeffrey decides and then, as if for good measure adds, “Remember, I can bite too,” before latching onto your hard nipple. You huff a sigh, the fight burning inside you instantly forgotten as the contrast of his soft tongue running circles around the peak of your nipple makes you want to just melt away.

He firmly rolls your other nipple between his fingers and you arch under him, trying not to moan. Jeffrey takes an agonisingly slow time sucking on your tits, swapping from right to left, trying to fit them in his mouth, burying his face between them as you watch helplessly. The steady pulsing in your clit still throbbing, waiting for him to pay you attention below your waist again.

“God, you’re so hot when you’re being well-behaved,” he says. It’s probably a fair assessment - the last time you saw Jeffrey you hit him over the head with a wrench. You scowl - you don’t want him to think you’re complying just because his mouth on your nipple felt good.

“What’s that little pout for?” coos Jeffrey, straightening up and tracing a finger down your torso. “I know you’re smart but aren’t you tired of thinking all the time? Always thinking about machines and schematics. Solving problems. Wouldn’t you just like to relax for once?”

You purse your lips. This entire time in Evergreen has been so mentally draining. 

“If you really thought about it, wouldn’t you like the chance to stop fighting to prove yourself? All you have to do is say the word and you can stop fighting. All you have to be is my little fucktoy.” You screw your face up and he laughs. “You’re not gonna make it easy for me, are you?”

Jeffrey leans down and presses his tongue against your clit. You pant, waiting for him to give you clit the same treatment he was just giving your tits. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “I’m not gonna make it easy for you either. You want to be a worker instead of a fucktoy? Then you can work for this too.”

“Fuck,” you whine, feeling tears prickling the corners of your eyes. 

You push your hips up against his face and rock back and forth as much as your constraints allow. Jeffrey follows your needy movements and sucks on your clit, swirls his tongue across the throbbing sensitivity and groans, sending deep vibrations across your skin.

You curse yourself for being so desperate for your orgasm. 

Everything pulses and burns. Fuck, it radiates from your centre as you grind yourself against Jeffrey’s face. 

“Ah - fuck,” you whimper as everything pulls up fierce and tight once more. Your fingers wrap around the chains of your handcuffs, giving you something to bear your weight against as you roll your pelvis and feel the flutter of his tongue on your clit.

Jeffrey pulls away and you actually cry out this time, arching your back and lifting your hips right off the bed as you helplessly try to follow his mouth. 

“Was that a close one, baby?” He clicks his tongue soothingly. “Shhh, you don’t need to cry.” You huff and blink tears from your eyes as he leans over and wipes a fat tear from under your eye with his thumb, smoothing it across your cheek. “All you have to do is ask. Ask for me to fuck you.”

You take a gulp of air and shake your head, using your very last bit of resolve to pull yourself together. 

“No?” he asks and with difficulty you shake your head again. With a sigh, he turns away from you and unbuttons his shirt. You blink slowly as he reveals his toned, muscular shoulders and back. “Usually this is reserved for girls who behave. But I can make an exception - given the circumstances.”

The room is silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning and your laboured breathing. Your eyes rake over him. He has no right to make you feel self-conscious. Especially when it’s his fault that you’re in the state you’re in right now. But he does. Just him existing - looking like that - makes you self-conscious of the sweat glistening on your stomach and the puddle of arousal coating the examination bed.

You were attracted to him the first time you saw him. Felt his bicep when you hit him on the arm playfully in the control room. Watched his muscular forearm flex under a rolled-up sleeve when you asked him to lift a piece of machinery while you fixed one of Cortex’s attachments. You already knew that his physical form was more than it seemed under his tailored shirt.

But Jesus fucking Christ.

Like the control freak he is, he folds his shirt neatly before turning back around and standing between your open legs again. Your gaze flicks down, following the dark blonde trail of hair covering his chest and stomach. 

Jeffrey undoes his belt and the gentle clinking noise seems deafening in the quiet, clinical room. The atmosphere crackles as you hold your breath. 

Waiting. 

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his overpriced, designer boxers and eases his cock out. And of course, it’s hard already - there’s no way he wasn’t getting off on this. But he’s thick too. Without realising it, your whole body tenses up when he wraps his hand around it.

“No.” You look away adamantly. Though you’re not sure whether you’re protesting about him having his cock out or if you’re resolving not to be persuaded by temptation.

Deciding it’s the former, Jeffrey says, “I already told you, I’m not gonna fuck you until you’re begging me for it.”

Jeffrey cups your pussy and for a second, your body hopes against your own will that he’s going to slip his fingers inside you again. But you feel a pang of longing when instead, he gathers up your arousal on the flats of his fingers before coating himself in your slick.

“I thought you’d break sooner than this,” he says, stepping close enough that the underside of his cock brushes your clit. Your breathing picks up again - his touch sending an electric current through you that kicks your needly little nerve endings into hyperdrive. 

He doesn’t fail to notice. 

Jeffrey holds onto your hips and fuck, you feel so small in his large, firm hands. He edges closer, dragging his length along your clit. All the gears whir furiously inside your brain - normally your thoughts are so collected. You wish your brain was working properly but all you can focus on is the delicious way he’s rocking his hips, putting the lightest pressure possible on your clit.

You can’t take it.

You can’t fucking take it.

You buck wildly, your body begging for more pressure but he keeps steady, giving you a knowing smirk as you arch your back again, chasing the sensation. 

“God dammit,” you sob, wishing you had a hand free just to slap that smile off his face.

Your fingernails dig crescent moon indents into your palms as you exert yourself, shamelessly trying to grind against the underside of Jeffrey’s cock.

“Come on, baby. You can get it if you want it. Almost there.”

He follows your movements this time, pulling your hips into his own.

Holy fuck. 

Your heart leaps into your throat as you teeter on a tightrope, willing yourself to fall off. To let yourself plummet.

Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, you think with every little grinding motion.

You squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm rears its head.

Then Jeffrey steps back and his departure fucking winds you.

“No! Fuck, nonononono!” you wail.

“I told you that all you have to do is -”

“Fuck me. Fuck me. Pleeeeaaassseeee,” you howl, feeling tears hot and wet on your cheeks. 

What the fuck are you doing? This is so fucked up. 

And what’s worse is that you want it. 

You like it.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” says Jeffrey, placing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

You nod, looking away in shame.

“Tell me. Using words.”

“I - I want you to breed me,” you mumble, feeling your face turn bright red once more.

“Good girl,” he says, slapping you on the side of the thigh like you’re livestock. Jeffrey inches forward and you’re so slick and hot between your legs that you’re able to take him more easily than you’d imagined when you first saw the size of his cock. His grip on your hips tightens as he slowly sheaths himself in you, sucking through his teeth.

“I’m glad you finally saw sense,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your thighs to better leverage himself so he can sink into you deeper.

Sense? What sense? Your own thoughts have never made less sense than right now. You don’t know how to tell him this so you just whimper, blinking at him slowly while he stretches you out. The head of his cock presses against your G-spot and your eyes roll back in your head, grateful that this most sensitive part of your insides is getting the attention it’s been crying out for. 

Holy fucking shit.

Your walls clench around him, clamping down hard as your legs begin to tremble. Jeffrey groans before pulling back out and slamming into you and, fuck, you’d be screaming if you could breathe properly right now. You’re only sure that you haven’t been deactivated again because you can still see. 

“You’re all - fucking - mine. Forever,” he says through clenched teeth, drilling into you. 

He removes a hand from your hip and starts rubbing circles on your clit as he thrusts. You finally take a gasp of air - so deep that you might be waking up from reactivation - as stars are exploding behind your eyes. “Ah - ah, Jeffrey - fuck,” you whine. 

And then you’re writhing. Writhing and grinding as much as you can while he uses your body as a counterweight to thrust himself into you. You’re not losing it this time. He’ll be merciful this time, right?

“You gonna cum for me?” asks Jeffrey. “You gonna cum from being used like a slut?”

“Yes, yes - yes,” you pant, chasing your impending orgasm, everything pulling inside you like a rubber band getting ready to snap.

“Tell me you want my cum -”

“I - I want you to cum - fuck - cum in me,” you say, cutting him off before he can even finish as you take open-mouthed gulps of air. “Breed me. Use me. Do whatever you want.”

“Fuck, I’ve never heard you say that before,” he murmurs to himself, furrowing his brow. With renewed determination, he speeds up his thrusting in time with the circles he’s rubbing around your poor, abused clit. “Come on, baby. You can cum now,” he breathes.

You don’t give him a chance to change his mind. You vault over the edge this time. Your core tightens like a vice then explodes - wet and hot around his cock, squeezing and spasming around him as you tremble and beg for him to let you finish this time. 

Jeffrey lets out a low groan, coarse like grit as he fucks you so hard the examination table moves and squeaks on the polished stone floor. You feel his cock pulsing inside you as he growls his way through his release, shooting ropes of his seed inside you. 

He pulls out of you quicker than you’d like him to. But it’s with purpose as he pulls up his boxers and says “Cortex - tilt the bed back minus 30 degrees.”

The bed mechanically reclines until your pelvis is higher than your head. It doesn’t help with how dazed you’re feeling.

Your state of mind must be painted all over your face because when Jeffrey walks around to the side of the bed, pulling on his shirt he says, “Just like this for a couple of minutes to give us the best chances of conception.” He brushes a sweat-soaked strand of your hair back from your face. 

You look at the ceiling as you regain control of your breathing. 

Eventually, Jeffrey puts you upright. 

“I’m going to take off your restraints so you can go to V-mem,” he says. “I’m warning you now that Cortex will deactivate you if you try to harm me.”

“V-mem?” you ask.

“I can understand that your current situation could be considered to be… traumatic. V-mem will help you rewrite that trauma.”

You nod and watch silently as Jeffrey presses a button that undoes your restraints. He taps an electronic key fob above your head and it unclips your handcuffs.

“Better?” he asks, watching you rub your wrists. You remain silent. You’ve nothing else to say. Nothing you can say that will change what your future will be down here.

Jeffrey frowns and hands you a fresh hospital gown and you put it on before following down the corridor in your bare feet to the V-mem room.

“You - you know how to use it? Even though McKenna is gone?” you ask, stepping into the chamber.

“We’ve not only used it but we’ve improved it,” he says, pulling the door shut. For some reason, this particular door shutting jogs something in your brain. “V-mem can do more than just help process trauma. It can actually delete memories.” 

You stare at him through the glass pane. He might be evil but he has a perfect face. 

Too perfect.

You remember hitting him pretty hard with a wrench. Shouldn't there be a bruise?

“Jeffrey... how long was I deactivated for?” 

“Which time?” he replies absently pressing buttons on the V-mem pod.

Your stomach sinks.

Deleted memories.

“How many times have we done this?” you ask, your throat feels tight as he continues to press buttons.

Jeffrey pauses. “This is the first time you’ve ever asked that.”

“How many times, Jeffrey?” you plead.

“Nine.”

You feel bile bubbling up in your throat.

“And - and how many more times will we need to do it?” you ask, trying to keep your voice as casual as if you were asking the weather.

“We’ll keep doing it until you’re pregnant. Or until you agree that this is our best shot for humanity. You’ve taken much longer than Hannah and Ida to come around.”

“I agree,” you say quickly. You can’t let your memories be erased. You can’t let this happen again to future you. “I - I see it now. You were right Jeffrey.”

He raises an eyebrow sceptically. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I - I’m not sure. I think it just took a while to sink in.” His expression remains still. “And now I - I realise I’m so lucky that you chose me and I’m not stuck with David or Axel.”

Jeffrey’s face softens into a smile. It’s been so long down here that his ego must have been feeling so neglected. 

“I’m the lucky one,” he says, opening the door of the V-mem pod and cupping your face. “You are the smartest person down here and I’ve missed you while you’ve been deactivated.”

You paint a simpering smile on your face, choking down the retort on your tongue - that it was he who deactivated you in the first place.

“No - I am. Think about how smart and beautiful our children will be,” you say, fluttering your eyelashes. 

He laughs “Come on - let’s get out of here,” says Jeffrey helping you out of the pod and putting an arm around you. “And back to my quarters.”

“Your quarters?”

“Well, if we’re going to be parents together we should probably start sleeping in the same bed, right?”

“Right,” you chuckle weakly, letting him lead you down the corridor to the bed that you’ll be spending the rest of your life sleeping in.

[minionwater]

literally ended up just drawing alan bc I couldn’t be fucked to make up a design but worlds first fin gorale fanart I think

[training4theapocalypse]

Jeffrey and Dagney

[bippot]

A Dog On A Leash

Story Summary -> Thanks to his attempt at total domination over the population of Evergreen spectacularly failing, Jeffrey was forced to be confined in his room. The only interaction he gets is annoying David whenever he brings his meals in.

That is until another face appears. A familiar face. A face of someone he presumed had perished in the apocalypse.

Tags -> Pinching, Handcuffs, Eventual Smut, Love at First Sight, Post-Apocalypse, Isolation, Post-Canon

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Fin Gorale didn't like to be wrong. He built his career on the belief that he was five steps ahead of everyone else and only paid attention to the data that proved his case. He knew the world was going to end. He'd tracked the asteroid that wiped out most of the earth for an entire decade and didn't tell anyone because he wanted that information in his back pocket, and only his back pocket.

But he was wrong. Because Fin forgot that he might've been one of the richest men in the entire world but there were other rich men that were just as neurotic and focused on an apocalyptic future as he was. The above ground panic rooms of the elite had been wiped out in an instant. Underground bunkers, on the other hand, had a much higher success rate.

Y/N was alive thanks to pure luck. She'd been at a party at her manager's house in Hawaii and was ushered into his doomsday prepped bunker as soon as the sky turned dark. One minute they were sipping on cocktails, the next everyone was huddled as bangs and crashes sounded over their heads. Civilisation was coming to a very violent and scorchingly hot end, and all Y/N could do was listen.

They found out how truly warm the earth was when one unlucky and very stupid socialite that shall go unnamed climbed up out of the exit hatch in search of a phone signal. Her skin melted off her bone structure with every step she took, revealing the flesh beneath it in all its gruesome glory. Her scream rang through the thick metal as the nearest person slammed the door shut. There was no way to save her. She was a goner the second she went out there. They needed to preserve themselves and doing idiotic shit like that wouldn't help.

While Fin had collected some of the most intelligent and capable people from across the globe, the bunker squad was mostly filled with people from the entertainment business. They were mostly actors rather than survivalists and scientists, so they may have pretended to have a useful job once upon a time yet didn't have the actual knowledge and experience to actually be useful.

As time went on, their numbers did decrease. People sustained injuries that they didn't have the proper equipment to care for. Some gave up. There had been 3 purposeful fatalities, and 8 accidental. It came to the point when there were only 4 people left standing - Y/N, married country singers named Betsy and Jon-Bon, and a mechanic called Cal who'd come to fix the hot tub all those weeks ago.

Whenever someone died, they were thrown out of the hatch and, thanks to that, they deduced that the temperature of the outside world had decreased after a few months since there was no more melt-y-ness. The bodies stayed intact until they decomposed normally. But by then the survivors were too tired or hungry or traumatised to give them actual funerals and so, they simply left them there in rotting piles.

On the bright side, all the flies in existence had been burnt to a crisp so that disgusting visual was nowhere to be seen, and would probably never be seen again.

Food was running out and the water filtration system was on its last legs. They'd made their way through the shelves of canned produce. Although it was easier now there were less people to share with, the amount available was dwindling quickly and no amount of rationing would save them. Something needed to be done fast before their supplies ran dry. If Y/N's predictions were correct, they had less than two weeks.

Though it took some convincing, the squad decided to venture upstairs. Where else did they have to go? What else did they have to do? It wasn't as if they had any other options. It was either die in the bunker, die on the surface like the rest of the world had, or somehow survive on the surface and attempt to keep the human race going for as long as they could.

Cal was first out of the bunker. He looked around frantically for something - anything - that could be perceived. That's how low his expectations were. He just wanted something (other than the skeletons of his friends) to look at, and there wasn't much. Sand. The occasional tumbleweed that floated past. Nothing to indicate that this place once had a bustling life.

He held his hand out to Y/N and helped her out. She was clammy and sweaty and clearly concerned about the state of the planet they were trying to preserve, but he knew that if they kept their cool, they had a higher chance of making it through. Jon and Betsy followed out after him while Y/N brought up the rear.

Two shotguns had been locked away in a glass case for the entire time they'd been trapped down there and of course they were going to break into it to have some protection. Cal had one. Y/N had the other. What if there were mutated bugs? Or maybe this had been an alien invasion? Had others survived? And did they form Mad Max-eque tribes that were out to kill each other? What if there were zombies out there? They needed some anchor of safety in order to feel sane, and as redneck as it sounds, a weapon was the only thing that could do that.

Luckily, Cortex was back online and functional at that time. Jeffrey had programmed it to scan for signs of life and notify them when any popped up on the surface, and despite the fact he'd been handcuffed to his bed thanks to his mutiny attempt, Hannah had kept that procedure going. In an instant, the switchboard lit up like a Christmas tree. 4 life forms were detected in the Hawaii area and a retrieval team was sent out within the hour.

It was weird. After so long of seeing the same faces, Y/N thought she'd be relieved to come across people she knew or heard of. Their saviours were some of the richest and most influential people of the modern world.

Jeffrey Steinberg and Fin Gorale were both responsible for so many of the biggest developments in technology, artificial intelligence to be precise, in the last twenty years and they'd been down every business avenue possible.

Axel Garcia was competing with Bear Grylls for the Survivalist top spot, though Bear was far more focused on his TV persona than Axel was. Plus, Axel's breathing technique was frequently used as a grounding method by anyone with anxiety so everyone who'd ever been to a therapist knew of his work. It was rather odd seeing him hobbling around and holding his chest every few steps so something must've given him a good shock.

Niko Ishikawa had been plastered all over the news thanks to her experiments. Everyone knew what she did. And Y/N would later come to know that those experiments are what got her killed.

David Yeung had been featured on one of his patient's Tik Tok's - unknowingly - and the Internet had banded together to crown him the hottest doctor alive.

Ida and Dagney managed to stay out of the public eye for the most part, yet you can tell just by looking at them that they were the masters in their field. There was a confidence about each of their movements that screamed 'I survived for a reason.' Y/N and her squad of survivors didn't have a reason. They were just lucky, or unlucky depending on your opinion.

"Oh my lord, look at this place!" Jon-Bon said, gaping at the view that they were presented with.

Evergreen was beautiful, even with all of its flaws that the new arrivals had no idea about. It was sleek and clean, full of light and air and fresh plants. Their bunker had been expensive, that was obvious, but Evergreen exorbitantly more lavish. It was a 10 million vs 1 trillion difference.

No wonder more of them survived. They had everything they could ever want right here. And everything they didn't want, too. Weird clones. Billionaires in comas. A robot's vengeance. An arrogant prick playing dictator. Betas. Their surroundings may have been cushier but their experience had been far more eventful.

After being checked and prodded and examined for any irregularities, the other survivors were allowed to cohabitate. There was still a sense of distrust between the 2 groups - hell, most of the Evergreen squad still didn't trust each other - but it was getting better. Slowly, but surely, things were settling down.

Thanks to his actions, Jeffrey wasn't allowed out of his room. He had no idea that there were new arrivals until one of them entered his room. David usually came in to give him his meals and engage in surface level chatter. Other than that, he didn't have anything to do and spent his time reading books or drawing random doodles onto scraps of paper. This particular day had been slow - most were these days - and his head whipped to the door as soon as it opened.

"I've officially lost the plot," he mumbled to himself. "Am I in V-man?"

"Nope," Y/N replied, leaning against his door frame. Her eyes scanned through his room. It was similar to hers, albeit with more stuff in it, and there was a desk pushed in near the window where he'd scattered a bunch of loose papers. There was an open journal on the nightstand that was covered with scribbles.

He eyed her carefully, completely confused but not willing to show that.

"You're not real," he concluded with a shrug.

Obviously, she knew it was a lot to comprehend if he hadn't been told there were more survivors. As far as everyone else was concerned, messing with Jeffrey was something that would bring immense satisfaction so Y/N had been encouraged to do so. He made their lives hell for so long, why not return the favour?

"I'm not real?"

"You can't be."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself. Though, that's on brand for you."

The corner of Jeffrey's lips twitched upward slightly. "Well, of course, I know you're a hallucination because my mind is so bored that it's creating you to give me a little bit of excitement." He laughed bitterly. "Of course it would be you."

"I didn't know I made you excited, Steinberg."

"That's a lie, L/N. You were very aware of that fact."

Listening in, Hannah and Dagney made eye contact. Y/N hadn't disclosed that she knew Jeffrey Steinberg, or rather, that Jeffrey Steinberg knew her. Because everyone and their mother knew of the tech billionaire. Y/N was a famous actress but she was B list, known for indie movies, and as far as Hannah could remember, she used to stay as far away from social media and paparazzi as she possibly could.

"I'm aware you liked throwing money in my direction," Y/N countered.

In an instant, Jeffrey's mind went back years ago. Before he was confined to his room. Before he tried to be a dictator. Before the apocalypse. Back when he was at the top of the food chain. He'd been convinced by one of his pals that he should go to this charity gala, not because the prospect of giving a helping hand to those in need filled him with joy but because a number of hot actresses and models were auctioning off their time.

Pay $10,000 for a dinner date with that girl from that fantasy show. $20,000 to go to an art class with a playboy bunny. $50,000 and a renowned singer will feature you in his next video. Hell, $100,000 and the first lady will spit in your face and you'll like it, you filthy capitalist pig.

At the time, none of these offers seemed enticing enough to Jeffrey. He'd been on enough dates with models and even had a total of 3 songs written about him that he didn't consider raising his paddle. All these beautiful people were dressed to the 9's and looking good enough to eat, so why wasn't he hungry?

Was it because his fellow rich people were only willing to help the less fortunate if there was an incentive for them to take advantage of? That old guy in the corner who'd made his fortune in polluting the earth could pay for someone to pretend to find him interesting and attractive for an entire afternoon, and if some kid was given an insecticide-treated bed net because of that, so be it. Helping was an afterthought to most of these assholes.

Betting was an entirely self-serving action - they'd get the prize, be able to boast about how charitable they'd been, and could pay less income tax thanks to that donation - and, in this moment, Jeffrey hated himself and everything he'd gained.

He'd come into the industry to help. He'd come up with tech to reduce carbon emissions. He'd funded the development of bioplastics. Invested in a countless amount of startups to create clean energy. To more effectively manage landfill waste. To implement smart irrigation systems. He'd tried so hard to help, and people still liked Fin Gorale better.

Fin was at that gala. He bid a quarter of a million so that the unnamed socialite that would end up having her skin melted away in Y/N's bunker would cook him a steak dinner. Whether she did make it herself or if she ordered it in through postmates, it's still unknown.

Consumed by disdain for his fellow rich man, Jeffrey found himself walking out of the main hall to get a moment's peace. He arrived at a quiet balcony and let out a sigh as he leant on the balustrade, completely unaware that he wasn't the only one who decided to step outside. He was just about to take a sip of his champagne when a voice asked, "Tough night, Mr Steinberg?" and his drink slipped through his fingers as he jolted.

The glass plummeted towards the garden below and Jeffrey watched as it shattered when it hit the ground. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. He turned around, ready to give whoever had startled him a good telling off, but stopped as soon as he saw the source of the voice. "Miss L/N, hello."

Lounging back with her heels up on the chair opposite her and a cigarette between her lips, Y/N L/N looked nothing short of divine. She wore a tight red dress that clung to every curve that would ever grace her body and the low scoop neckline exposed enough of her cleavage to make a eunuch tight in the trousers. She smiled and blew smoke towards the balcony, watching as it billowed upwards to meet the warm, summer evening air.

"Let's pretend that was someone else." He pointed to the shattered remains of his drink. "If anyone asks, blame it on Musk. Everyone hates that bastard."

She huffed out a laugh, mumbled, "Yeah, he's a cunt," and held her cigarette out to him, which he accepted. Though, if he was honest, he had no idea why he did. He didn't smoke. He thought it was gross. The body is a temple so why would you pollute it with tar? Not to mention, it tasted awful. But, hey, if a pretty girl offers you a ciggy, you're going to take it. And besides, it was a small price to pay for some company.

Thankfully, he managed not to cough up a lung and handed it back to her like it was no big deal.

"This not your scene?" she questioned after taking another drag. Jeffrey shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning on the wall beside the balcony and staring at the stars twinkling above them.

It was a nice night. The stars were bright and the city lights cast a soft glow over his surroundings. It was almost peaceful, apart from the occasional cheer from the party inside, and it gave him a sense of calmness that he sorely lacked at that point. He was exhausted, stressed and fed up. There was barely any time to breathe during work, and work was a 24/7 thing these days.

Tonight technically was a networking event. It may have been disguised as a charity fundraiser but it was a chance to meet with potential investors and keep up his social profile. This was work. And he hated it.

"I don't really care for charity."

"Oh?" she replied, her curiosity overpowering any disgust she should've been feeling.

"It doesn't solve the problem. It just makes the problem more cushy, y'know?" He glanced at the side and noted a faint smile tugging at her lips as she raised her brow for him to carry on his explanation. "You can throw thousands of dollars to buy food for kids in Africa but that will soon be depleted and we'll be having another one of these in 2 years time. Throw money at creating modified crops that can withstand drought and flooding, that will last forever."

He watched as she snuffed out her cigarette and let out a hum. He didn't know whether she agreed with him or not but he continued nonetheless. "Invest in the future, not the now, that's what I always say."

"You always say?" she repeated, a hint of teasing lacing her tone. He rolled his eyes but couldn't deny the smile that appeared upon his lips at the sound of her playful voice.

"I do always say," he laughed. Jeffrey placed his palms on the underside of her ankles as he lifted her feet up and sat in the chair opposite her, and let the tip of her stiletto rest against his thigh.

Was he aware that she was only a few inches away from spearing her very pointy shoe into his prized jewels if she wanted to? Yeah. Did that turn him on? Also yeah. He enjoyed being a human footstool for her.

"Are you prostituting yourself for charity?" he joked while gently rubbing circles on her ankle with his thumb, and when she gave him a look, he felt the need to rephrase that. "Are you offering up your company in exchange for payment tonight?"

"Why? You planning to bet on me?"

"I might throw a few thousand down."

"Only a few?"

"Well," he started as he ran his hand along her bare calf and lightly grazed his fingertips against the smooth expanse of the back of her knee, "Maybe more than that. It all depends if I'm in a giving mood or not."

"And what, pray tell, do you plan to get out of this sudden act of generosity if I might ask?" Y/N replied with mock innocence, placing her chin in her palm and staring straight ahead at him as if she expected him to spill his guts right then and there.

As much as he loved to brag about being a womaniser and a ladies' man, he had never been all that focused on actually picking girls up. He could simply point to his fancy car or how he'd been on the Forbes 30 under 30 list when he was merely 20 years old or bring them to his mansion, and those would do the leg work for him. In lack of better terms, Jeffrey's flirting game was a little rusty.

So, yeah, he gulped rather thickly. His mouth went dry and he cleared his throat as a way to regain control of himself.

"Your company."

"You want to pay for something I'm willingly giving you for free right now?"

Huh. That was something to think about.

"Think of those hungry kids in Africa, Y/N. Let me waste my money for them."

"Oh, I'm a waste now, huh?"

"Wow, typical woman just twisting my words."

Just as he was about to lean forward to add more drama to whatever sarcastic thing he was going to say next, her foot came up to his chest and she pushed him backward in the chair. "So you hate charity and have misogynist tendencies? You're a catch, Mr Steinberg," Y/N said, letting out a chuckle at how obviously he took a big staggered breath.

This woman was going either going to fuck him or kill him and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. And he honestly didn't mind. After all, she was beautiful and witty and knew exactly what buttons to push to drive a man absolutely insane.

If the world ended tomorrow, she'd still have him hooked, he thought at the time and would've been surprised by how right he actually was.

They stared at each other for a moment. Jeffrey's neatly pressed incredibly expensive suit was in direct opposition to how messy he felt. His hair was slightly dishevelled due to running his hands through it too many times before coming outside and he'd undone the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing an appropriate amount of chest hair.

"Well, you seem to like me," he stated finally. "That has to count for something, right?"

"What makes you think that I like you?"

Before Jeffrey could answer, Y/N's agent rushed onto the balcony, immediately warned, "Darling," and stomped over to slap Y/N's foot off Jeffrey's chest. "I told you to play nice, remember?"

"I'm playing nice."

"She's playing very nice," Jeffrey agreed and accepted the way the agent began to swipe away any dust on his chest, ignoring how he heard the older woman scoff under her breath.

"If you'll excuse us, Mr Steinberg, it's Y/N's turn on stage." The agent nodded her head towards the door to gesture for Y/N to follow her, though it seemed Y/N was reluctant to get up and go. "We've already delayed your turn twice already, come on."

Y/N sighed dejectedly and reluctantly got to her feet and followed her agent, shooting Jeffrey a quick grin over her shoulder and mouthed, "I think I hate charity too." He responded by winking at her and followed at a leisurely pace.

Yeah, he did bid on her. And, yeah, he did win 'Y/N L/N will walk your dog for you' despite the fact he didn't own a dog. Thanks to the apocalypse, they never had the chance to take his imaginary dog on a very overpriced walk.

"I hear you've been a bad boy, Mr Steinberg," current day Y/N teased as she sat on the corner of his bed.

"I'm ambitious and it's the apocalypse, hey, why wouldn't I try to become supreme leader?" Jeffrey remarked. He leaned back against the headboard and crossed his legs at the ankles to really try to sell that he was so casual about this whole thing.

Sure, he did think he was hallucinating her. And no, he wasn't going to let Hannah and the others that were watching know that maybe it was affecting him more than he ever wanted it to.

"Why wouldn't you?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she eyed his dark circles underneath his eyes. Her face was painted with concern but the smile was present throughout. "Is your failed totalitarian regime why you're not getting any sleep?"

The man let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. Yes, he was tired, okay? Tired of constantly thinking that he was going to wake up one day and the other survivors were going to push him out into the barren unknown. It was exhausting. Hell, it was terrifying even.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. And now, well, I'm going to spend most of my night trying to preserve whatever sanity I have left."

"There can't be much left, can there?"

"If you're here, I guess not."

It was about time to reveal the truth to him, Y/N thought. He'd been messed with enough. She held her hand out, palm outstretched towards him, and gestured for him to touch her to make sure she was real. He was reluctant at first but eventually complied when he saw the pleading look in her eyes.

His eyes widened in disbelief when his fingers gently touched her skin. "What? How is this possible?" he whispered to himself. Jeffrey clutched her hand tightly in his grasp and brought it closer until it was right in front of his face, studying it closely, almost afraid that his eyesight might fail him at some point and he would somehow be fooled by his own imagination.

An impossibly wide smile came upon his face and, without even realising what he was doing, he raised his other hand and traced the outline of Y/N's face. With careful and slow movements, he brushed along her right cheekbone down the curve of her jaw.

"Holy shit! Wait, are you a -"

"I'm not one of Niko's clones."

"This is crazy."

"You think I'm real now?" she asked, chuckling softly.

Instead of verbally answering, he did something he wanted to do since he met her. There was a reason why he bet on her. A reason why he invested in whatever movie he knew she was attached to after they met. A reason why he sent her an enormous bouquet of flowers every time he had to push back their 'dog' walking 'date' because he was tied up at work.

With far too much gusto, Jeffrey caught Y/N totally off guard with a big smooch to her lips. As soon as she realised what he'd done, she reciprocated it with just as much vigour. Her palms came to rest on his cheeks, cupping his face while he wrapped his arms around her shoulders to pull her body against him.

After what felt like eternity, he broke away for breath and rested his forehead on hers, still holding her in place. "How are you here? How are you alive?" he asked, sounding genuinely stunned and yet also quite relieved at the same time.

"Rich man's bunker."

"Oh, me too." Jeffrey smirked as he leant back in for another kiss, only to murmur "See, I knew you liked me" against her mouth.

"Don't say that too loud, I don't want to be ostracised by my new friends."

"I think the cat is out of the bag, darling," he said, once again tempting her into yet another kiss. It seemed that once he'd started, he couldn't stop.

Yet, Hannah clearly had other plans. A klaxon sounded inside of the room and they both broke apart suddenly at the noise. Cortex opened the door and waited expectantly in the frame.

"Y/N, Hannah would like to see you. If you'd follow me?" it informed in its monotone voice.

"Definitely out of the bag," Jeffrey joked as she stood up from the bed and turned to give him one last peck on the lips. Then, just before the door slid closed behind her, Y/N peered over her shoulder and winked at him with a knowing 'I'm about to get yelled at' smile on her face.

And get yelled at, she was. For the next 20 minutes, Hannah decided to tell Y/N exactly what she thought of what went down. Their relationship should've been disclosed. Jeffrey was a bad man and she should have higher standards than that. It was going to be very hard to trust her now that they knew she was in cahoots with the guy who tried to be a dictator.

That was all true. But in Y/N's defence, she had only met him once before. It had been a very important and impactful meeting for the both of them, but it still had only been 1 conversation months ago. Was that really worth bringing up?

The punishment was that Y/N had to wait an entire 2 weeks until they allowed her to see Jeffrey again and, after hearing her reasoning, Hannah reluctantly accepted to reduce it to 10 days. Once they were up, Y/N was taking over David's dinner role once again and was let into Jeffrey's room.

She was told that they were under strict surveillance and therefore should keep things PG for everyone's sake.

"Long time, Mr Steinberg."

He perked up as soon as he heard her voice and replied, "You can call me Jeffrey, you know? I think we're way past that point" as he crossed the room to stand before her.

"Maybe I will."

"Good."

"Good."

His hands found themselves on either side of Y/N's hips as he scanned her appearance with curious eyes, noticing every little detail he missed the last few days. "You don't really suit this shade of blue," he commented with a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I prefer you in red."

"I plan on wearing more blue then."

"You're insufferable."

"I aim to please."

Jeffrey snorted and placed a chaste kiss on Y/N's lips. "I'm bored. Entertain me," he whined, grabbing her hand to drag her to his bed so she would sit down beside him. His hand moved slowly over her back, caressing her spine and drawing circles on it with his thumb. "Say something horrible."

To her credit, it took her a minute or so to come up with something. She wasn't a complete asshole. Her mind had to be racked a few times for something horrible to stand out.

"Your dog is probably dead."

"My what?"

"The dog you paid so much money for me to walk?"

Another snort left Jeffrey's mouth, he couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. "I didn't own a dog, I just wanted to fuck you," he admitted shamelessly, earning a half hearted slap across his chest from her. "Hey! You're a moron if you thought I actually had a dog. I spent most of my time in the office so it would've been fucked up if I had a pet and left it alone 18 hours a day, just barking and shitting on my very expensive carpet from dust till dawn. No thank you."

He paused for a second, clearly considering whether to divulge something or not, and before he added, "I always wanted a dog when I was a kid."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, I wanted a Jack Russell."

"They're yappy, you're yappy, it makes sense."

An incredulous look came across his face. "I am not yappy!" She gave him a pointed look. "I am not!" he repeated in a yappy sort of way.

They continued to make fun of each other for as long as they were allowed to before the solitary part of Jeffrey's solitary confinement kicked back into gear, and this arrangement happened every other day for the next couple of weeks. Jeffrey, as much as he hated to admit it out loud, eagerly awaited her visit and would start to brainstorm ideas about what they would talk about as soon as she exited in preparation for her return.

Then, she didn't turn up for one. Then another. And another. He was beginning to get worried. Not only did he miss her terribly, but he also began to grow very anxious. What if something really bad happened to her? What if she never returned? The possibility of losing the only person close to him, the only person he gave a shit about, was very scary indeed. It was the apocalypse, and maybe Y/N had been its newest victim.

David didn't quell his concerns either. The doctor was very tight-lipped about everything that was going on in Evergreen.

It got to the point Jeffrey didn't even look up when his door opened anymore.

"Why so glum?"

"Jesus fucking christ, never do that to me again!"

With two large steps, he bounded towards her, grabbed her and brought her flush against his broad chest. His arms encircled her waist tightly, keeping her in place and preventing her from getting away from him any time soon. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and let out a long suffering sigh.

Needless to say, Y/N was surprised. Her hands hovered in the air for a short moment before they finally settled at the small of his back to hug him in return. She nuzzled her nose against his hair before pressing her lips to his temple briefly and muttering, "Good to see you too, Jeffrey" against his skin.

For several long seconds, neither one of them moved; they just held onto each other for dear life and savoured the feeling of being near one another again. When he eventually pulled away, he looked directly into her eyes and demanded, "I deserve an explanation."

"Straight onto business, huh?" she teased as she gently stroked the back of his neck with her thumb.

"Spill."

"There was a minor issue with Cortex and they didn't want you to know because you'd try to leverage your skills for freedom or something -"

He nodded. "I would do that."

"They knew I'd tell you and you'd be super annoying about it." She laughed as he made a mock offended face, then shook her head. "Hannah tried to fix it. She couldn't. If anything, she made it worse."

Spitefully, he let out a laugh at Hannah's expense. "They now need you to convince me to save the day?" he asked so, so smugly. His eyes shone with mischief as they flicked down to her lips and lingered there for a while before moving back up to meet her gaze. "What's my prize if I get Cortex up and running again?"

"That's for you and your ex-subjects to argue about."

"What if you're impacted by the prize I have in mind? Would you argue with me?"

"I think you'd really enjoy arguing with me, Mr Steinberg," Y/N stated in a husky tone, smiling cheekily at him when she saw his eyes widen and a pleased smirk spread across his face. "But I think you should be smart. Use your boon selfishly. Don't waste it on something I will willingly give you."

The smirk vanished immediately, leaving behind only a frown upon his lips instead as he studied her reaction, trying to understand why exactly that sentence confounded him so much. So, she explained.

"Instead of asking me on a date that I would've said yes to, you - in your own words - 'wasted' 100 thousand dollars for me to walk your imaginary dog."

"I didn't know you'd say yes."

"You did. There was a very obvious vibe."

She smiled sweetly at him as he stared at her for a whole five seconds without saying anything, completely lost as to how to react. Her foot came out to nudge him in the knee and he seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was having.

"I...uh..." He cleared his throat and quickly looked everywhere else but in her direction and uttered, "It does sound fucking ridiculous when you say it like that."

"You are an idiot," she whispered, her taunt making him chuckle.

If anyone else had doubted his intelligence, he would've been far more offended than amused but since it came from Y/N, it didn't really register in his brain as an insult. Instead, he was just glad that she was here, that she was alive, and that she had decided to interact with him. He didn't need a 'prize', if he was honest. Just her presence made the apocalypse a little easier to handle.

"Yeah, Hannah is the one who fucked up Cortex but I'm the idiot? Sure, let us go with that."

Y/N cackled before leaning forward to capture his lips with hers once more, kissing him passionately while placing her hands on either side of his face and tangling her fingers through his soft curls. A hand slipped under her shirt, tracing a line directly up her spine with his palm until the fabric covering her back was collected at his wrist. He pulled away and breathed heavily, a content smile forming on his lips.

"Be a good boy and fix Cortex," Y/N urged.

"Tell me how much you need my help and I'll do it."

"Jeffrey Steinberg, we really need your help."

"Nu-uh," he tutted. "Not what I asked. I don't care about 'we'."

Scoffing, Y/N shook her head and tried to hide her amused smirk. He was arrogant and demanding and stubborn and difficult and had an ego as big as the Empire State Building and yet somehow, despite all these, she couldn't deny the fact that she liked him for those exact reasons. Because, damn it all, he was the only person who'd ever matched her energy.

His wit and humour, although sometimes sarcastic and crude, were incredibly intelligent and could cut through bullshit like butter. He had an incredible eye for detail, a need to share information whenever he possibly could, and he had an unparalleled passion and curiosity for knowledge. Even though he could be frustratingly overbearing at times, he had a knack for seeing things that others couldn't, or rather wouldn't.

So, she gave him what he wanted.

"I really need your help."

"One more time? Tell me again."

Like she always did when he was around, she rolled her eyes affectionately then repeated herself and was rewarded with his adorable, lopsided grin.

"I'll go let everyone know -"

"No, no, no, they can wait," he interjected hastily. "Don't leave so soon." He placed a kiss on her jawline. "Please stay."

"I didn't know please was in your vocabulary, darling."

With that, Y/N lay back against his pillow and got comfy, watching him as he took the opportunity to climb beside her until they were nose to nose. Jeffrey reached for a lock of her hair and twirled it between his fingers lazily as he spoke what was on his mind. He talked and talked and talked until the others decided that they'd had enough.

For the first time in months, Jeffrey Steinberg was allowed out of his room. The others were less than ecstatic when he walked around the compound waving like he was the goddamned Queen of England with his one hand. His other hand though, well wrist to be specific, was handcuffed to David as a security measure.

David wasn't happy with this at all. They knew if he had been attached to Y/N, she would've let Jeffrey run amuck for her own entertainment so David was there purely so no shenanigans could take place. And as much as Jeffrey could whine and complain, those handcuffs weren't coming off any time soon and David was determined to make sure Jeffrey understood that.

Cortex took around 6 hours to fully fix and, as expected, despite the fact he'd helped them out, the majority of Evergreen's population was counting down the minutes till he was back in his cell.

"What did he do again?" Betsy inquired, holding her palm to her stomach.

As of 2 months ago, the population of Evergreen was destined to rise by two in the coming months. Having a child was always a dangerous game but having one after the collapse of civilization? That kid was coming into a strange new world, yet, Evergreen was cushy and had the best doctor in the entire world - not that there was much competition these days - to watch their every move so maybe it wasn't as bad as it sounds on paper. Dagney and Betsy were a top priority whenever David did his rounds.

"I hear he reprogrammed that fancy robot thingamajig to try and kill everybody." Jon-Bon got a hold of his wife's hand and brought it to his lips. "That's why he's coming nowhere near you or our little one, my sweet."

"Jesus, Y/N, you really know how to pick em'," Cal vexed, shaking his head as he folded his arms across his chest disapprovingly. He clearly didn't get the response he wanted when Y/N merely shrugged since he stomped away in a huff.

Betsy sighed and rested her head against Jon-Bon's shoulder. "Go say sorry, Y/N," she instructed as if Y/N had done anything. Did Cal need an apology? For what? Y/N hadn't uttered a single word and the only gesture she'd given was a simple nonchalant shrug because why would his opinion matter?

What say did he have in her love life? Why did he care? And why should she care that he cared?

"Yeah, I'm not doing that."

"No, no, go apologise."

"You're bossy today," Y/N chuckled, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and taking a sip from her tea. "I wish I had a cigarette right about now."

Jon-Bon decided to unnecessarily weigh in too. "Cal's a good lad. He's sweet on you, ya know?"

"...So?"

"He'd be good for you, much better than that evil robot boy of yours that we hear about from the others. It would be nice to see the godparents of our scamp together, don't you think?"

Y/N cackled heartily, making a mental note to call Jeffrey an 'evil robot boy' later on just so she could see the look on his face at the new nickname that had been bestowed upon him. She didn't bother responding to that question, though. If she was honest, she didn't want to be a godparent. She didn't necessarily like these people, but she had put up with them to survive.

Almost as if they'd summoned a devil, a bouncy Jeffrey appeared around a corner with an exhausted looking David attached to him like a child barely keeping their grip on an energetic puppy on a leash. The second he saw Y/N in his peripheral vision, he was bounding towards her.

"Here comes my evil robot boy," Y/N sang merrily with her head tilted to the side and a teasing sparkle in her eyes as Jeffrey skidded to a halt right in front of her. "And look who's finally free from prison."

Jeffrey raised his handcuffed hand. "Handcuffs today. Ankle monitor tomorrow," he announced proudly and, after checking his watch, added, "It's almost dinner and I'm going to be super grumpy if my favourite delivery girl isn't going to show. You following?"

"Can I at least finish my tea?"

He snatched her cup out of her hand and downed what was left in one good swig.

"Asshole."

"Yep, that's me. Come on."

Once the mug had been carefully placed on the coffee table, Jeffrey wiggled his fingers towards Y/N in the universal sign of invitation and she stood up, smiling widely and linking arms with him without hesitation.

They were back in his room in no time. David was allowed to separate from the evil robot boy and let out a sigh of relief that he was finally free of the man's grip. Jeffrey parted from his 'other half' with a flirtatious wave and a "See you tomorrow, Davey!"

"Please don't call me that."

"Whatever, Davey! I'll be awake bright and early for my fitting."

"It won't be me. Axel volunteered for that."

Axel had been recovering when Jeffrey was first confined to his room. Everyone else had made a party out of it. They had found Finn's stash of champagne and toasted to Jeffrey's defeat, but Axel and Finn were stuck in comas in the med bay so they couldn't participate. Now, Finn was still slipping between consciousness and coma every other day, but Axel was up and walking and more than prepared for the next stage of Jeffrey's punishment.

An ankle monitor that tracked his every move and shocked him every time he was somewhere he shouldn't (or whenever whoever held the remote wanted to, really) was the compromise that Jeffrey had come to. He'd get the majority of his freedom back for the low low price of an ugly device around his ankle. That was a pretty good deal. Honestly, he had no idea why the other survivors agreed to this proposal.

Now they were alone and he was free to be as whiny as he wanted to, Jeffrey rubbed at his wrist. The skin was red and obviously sore thanks to the cuffs, and he was quick to point it out to Y/N as she placed their meals down on the nearest surface.

"Look!"

"Aw, you poor baby." Despite her mocking tone, she gently massaged his wrist in order to alleviate some of the discomfort. "Who would've thought that you'd face the repercussions of your actions?"

"I certainly didn't."

He liked being fussed over and pampered but he didn't enjoy being treated like a normal kind hearted person, which is why he liked Y/N so much. Her actions and her words were very different. She was always prepared to put him in his place and remind him that, yeah, he was a little bitch, yet she obviously cared for him in a way nobody else ever had before, and he appreciated that greatly.

Maybe he loved Y/N? Who knows? He never used to have time for feelings, and now that he did, was he going overboard? It was definitely something he was wondering about, even more so now that he was going to be allowed out of his room and interact with the other inhabitants of Evergreen more casually. But, as far as he was concerned, nobody in Evergreen was as fun or interesting to hang around as Y/N and he doubted anyone else would come close to her either.

"Stop staring into space and let's eat. Our food is getting cold," Y/N urged, her voice snapping him back to attention. She grabbed her plate from the table and moved towards the desk that they'd pushed to the middle of the room to use as a dinner table.

The chair on the one side was a lazy boy armchair that was far too heavy for what it was that Y/N always sat in. Opposite that was a gamer chair that had once looked pristine but Jeffrey had scratched away at the armrests until the leather was all ripped up, and it had an accompanying footstool that he often kicked around when he was annoyed.

Dagney had managed to grow an impressive array of produce this season so the survivors had been eating well. Jeffrey pushed his food around the plate with his fork in thought and watched Y/N while she ate.

"Spit it out, what's wrong?" Y/N asked without lifting her gaze from her plate.

"Nothing," Jeffrey replied with a grin and turned back to his food, finally getting some potato on his fork to eat.

"Uh huh, sure," Y/N retorted, unconvinced.

A beat. Then another. A third. That's all it took. "Is your bed a single or a double?" He blurted out suddenly, causing her to stop chewing.

"It's a queen. Exactly the same as yours."

"Ah," Jeffrey concluded like some big revelation had been revealed to him while taking another bite of his dinner. "Well then, you'll be as accustomed to my bed as yours."

"Who says I want to sleep in your bed?"

"Oh baby, you've been trying to get in my bed for weeks now."

She narrowed her eyes playfully at him and rested her head on her palm, elbow propped up on the dining table. "Are you suggesting that you want me to stay the night?"

"I wouldn't be opposed to it."

That was a vast understatement; he would be absolutely overjoyed if she stayed the night after pining for so long. Not that he was going to tell her anything about that. That would certainly lead to his feelings being spilled and he wasn't ready for that just yet. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Y/N gave him a knowing smile.

"Are you under surveillance tonight?"

"Nope. Thanks to my 'selfish boon', my Truman Show treatment is no more. I'm free for the night, and every night from now on."

"Aw, I wanted an audience," she joked, earning a chuckle from Jeffrey before he took another bite.

His hand reached across the table, his palm facing up, and he wiggled his fingers expectantly, beckoning for Y/N to hold it and give it a squeeze. But Y/N didn't take it. She glanced down at it and pointed out, "I need my hand to hold cutlery. To eat."

"Just use your fork. Y'know, like I'm doing."

"Satiating my hunger or letting you kidnap my hand with yours? I think you're overestimating your importance."

With a playful glare, he opened his mouth in shock and widened his eyes. As soon as he began to pout, Y/N's resolve crumbled and, instantly, she intertwined their fingers together. Jeffrey grinned at his victory. He always liked winning, even the small battles like this one. He felt oh so smug as he brought her knuckle to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

"The couple you were with earlier, the baby, is it a boy or a girl?" he inquired.

"Betsy says it's a boy."

"How many months along?"

"Three."

He nodded slowly in approval.

"It's a good idea."

"What?"

"Raising the population."

"...Right."

"How's Dagney coming along? The baby must be popping out soon."

Y/N's brow furrowed as she stared curiously at Jeffrey. He could see the wheels turning in her head as her mind tried to comprehend why he was bringing this up.

"Dagney is due in 5 weeks," she answered.

"Great."

"Jeffrey..."

"Hmm...?"

"Slow your plans down, okay? We'll get there eventually."

Ah, she'd figured it out. He was preoccupied with the pregnancy going on and there was a reason for that. Obviously, the apocalypse accelerated a lot of emotions and processes with the goal of survival in mind.

"We should make a little army," Jeffrey suggested with a grin.

"Sure, if you figure out a way so that you can push them out instead of me, be my guest."

His smile widened impossibly further at her response and she huffed in amusement, shaking her head with a small smirk on her face.

"What's your limit? 7 babies? 15?" Jeffrey asked eagerly.

"4, if you're lucky," Y/N said with a laugh.

"Only 4? That's not an army."

"Suck it up."

They continued talking, discussing random topics, until their meal was all done and they were both ready to go nurse their food babies and lie on his bed in peace.

Instead of lying the same way, Jeffrey decided that he wanted to use her stomach as a pillow rather than his actual pillow, so Y/N took the opportunity to rest her head against his thigh when he curled his leg underneath her. Jeffrey lifted her knee up so he could hook his arm across her butt and hold her securely in place.

"You are so needy," Y/N remarked.

"You love me," he teased right back.

"I tolerate you, I suppose."

"I know that you love me."

"You're delusional," Y/N insisted, her smile never leaving her lips as she twirled one of his curls around her finger, playing with it idly.

"Not really. Just stating fact."

Silence followed as the two of them gazed lovingly at each other, not saying a word but merely allowing themselves to feel content in each others' presence and bask in the warmth and comfort of one another's company. They knew they were in love. They weren't idiots. They understood the gravity of their relationship but there wasn't a need to get all soppy about it, at least not yet.

"I like your little mole, have I told you that before, Jeff?" Y/N complimented, her forefinger tracing over his cheekbone and circling the mole with such care that it was almost as though he was fragile.

"You, uh, you haven't."

"Maybe I shouldn't have divulged that. It will inflate your ego. It's already big enough as it is."

Jeffrey couldn't help himself from cracking a sly smile, flirting, "It's not the only big thing about me," and manoeuvred himself into a sitting position against the headboard. He patted his thighs and motioned for her to sit on his lap. She didn't. Y/N tilted her head to the side and just studied him carefully for a few seconds.

"Undo your belt," she ordered in a low and sultry voice. He obeyed silently and eagerly, watching as she slipped onto her stomach and positioned herself between his thighs. She was aware that he was power-hungry - hell, everyone was very aware of that - but did it extend to other areas of life as well?

Judging by the shiver he got when she praised, "Good boy," she got her answer.

"I realised that I didn't get a say when your punishment was changed," she stated nonchalantly while her finger found the button and zipper of his trousers and slowly started undoing them. "Maybe I should come up with my own then."

Y/N nudged his shirt up with her nose and began to press her lips on the area right below his navel before sucking on the skin there and licking at the mark she'd left behind. His hands gripped at her shoulders tightly as his head dropped backwards onto his headboard because how the fuck did she guess that the skin of his stomach was sensitive? How did she know?

He whipped his shirt off to allow her to access wherever she wanted and let out a moan when she licked up his abs. "Fuck," he breathed, biting his bottom lip, and tugging at the strands of hair at the nape of her neck. He was attacked with more smooches as they drifted up his chest, over his collarbone and along his neck towards his jawline, leaving goosebumps in her wake. "How are you doing this to me?"

Tantalisingly, Y/N pulled back just enough to catch his eye. "I have you wrapped around my pinkie, that's how." She placed a kiss right on the edge of his lip, lingering for just a split second longer before she returned her attention to his neck, trailing her palm between them until her fingertips came into contact with his hardening cock through his underwear. Her nails scratched lightly against the fabric and he whimpered.

Actually whimpered.

"What was that sound, baby?"

"I didn't - What sound? That wasn't me," Jeffrey lied quickly. He hadn't meant to whine, but he had to admit it felt quite nice to have someone do all the thinking for him. He was a control freak most of the time, but when it was just him and Y/N, he liked letting her take the reins. He could just enjoy himself and forget all his responsibilities.

"Well, it wasn't me. Must've been an invisible third party that's perving on us. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my hand is on your cock?"

"Nah, maybe Hannah pressed the mic on the CCTV system." Jeffrey snorted at his own joke but his laughter was soon replaced by another whine as Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock and squeezed lightly, causing Jeffrey to bite down on his lower lip and arch up in pleasure. "It was me, it was me! Fuck!"

If only the rest of the world could see him now, see him turned into a subby mess with one touch to his cock. Admittedly, Y/N had riled him up and it had been a lifetime since he last got some action that wasn't his own hand so it wasn't that unbelievable that he was being pathetic.

"I bet if the others knew a hand job would make you compliant, you wouldn't have been such a bad boy, huh?" she cooed teasingly, continuing to move her hand around the length of his cock and rubbing it slowly. Jeffrey let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes at the sensation, trying not to cry out too loudly, lest she'd stop.

His brows scrunched together as he stared up at her, his eyes wide and pleading. Y/N chuckled softly and leaned in closer, pressing her lips against his ear to whisper, "Don't worry, baby. I'm here to put you in your place."

"Shit, I can't think straight with you doing this to me," he panted, his hands reaching to grab onto any part of Y/N he could get a hold off. The sensations were overwhelming, and he was completely lost in the moment.

"Relax, baby," she murmured, biting the lobe of his ear. "I'm just getting started."

As soon as he seemed to be close - his legs shaking, a bead of sweat dripping down his brow, and his hips bucking - she stopped before he felt any sort of release. She left him panting and frustrated.

'WHY? Uh...why? Noooo," he whined, his body tensing up as Y/N pulled away from him. He whined out her name, begging for an explanation as she stood up from the bed. But she didn't give him any sort of answer.

All Y/N did was begin to undress herself, button by agonising buttons, until she was left in a lace bra and panties. She walked towards Jeffrey, her hips swaying seductively, and knelt between his legs.

"What was that for?"

"Punishment." Y/N's voice was low and husky as she leaned in to kiss him deeply. "And it's not over yet."

Jeffrey's eyes widened.

"How many edges do you think you'll be able to withstand without crying?" Her palms rubbed up and down his thighs. "3? I don't think you'll be able to manage 2 without bawling like a baby."

She mimicked him as he went to protest. "I'll let you cum if you're a good boy for me," she purred, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his cock. "Will you be a good boy for me, Mr Steinberg?"

At this point, he was far too gone to pretend to be the cold, logistical leader he was pretending to be. "I'll try," he gasped out, his voice barely above a whisper, and when Y/N's face indicated that she was dissatisfied with that answer, he corrected himself, "I will. I'll be good. So good. So, so good."

So, she got to it. He was edged again and again and again and again and again, the pleasure and pain mixing to make a perfect storm in his body. He was lost in the moment, completely under Y/N's control. He was sobbing, he knew that and didn't care in the slightest. The sensations were too intense to process, and he was so far gone that he didn't even care if anyone could hear him be her little bitch.

Surely, he would in the morning. Just not right now.

"Darling, I have a question for you," Y/N asked once she'd removed her mouth from his cock with a satisfying pop.

"Yes, yes, whatever you want. What, Holy fuck, yes," he said, trying to get his breath and mind back.

"How would you prefer to cum?" Y/N leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered the question. "I mean, if you were to choose between hand, mouth or pussy, which would it be?."

"Pussy. Pussy, please," Jeffrey replied, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He was wrecked, completely and utterly wrecked. His hair was a mess. He had a furious shade of pink spread out on his cheeks, ears, and chest. His lips were bitten and his eyes were teary as he watched Y/N's every move with anticipation.

"Yeah? Good choice," she purred, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "I think you've earned it."

A whole apocalypse had happened. He'd wanted to fuck her since he met her. Then, abandoned all hope when he presumed she was dead. Then, they met once again but couldn't do anything that wasn't PG 13 because all of his movements were being monitored by a slew of people that he'd tried to force into subjugation. He'd waited a really fucking long time.

After realising that he'd just been given what he wanted on a silver, no, platinum platter, Jeffrey was hurrying to take the opportunity to completely undress and prep Y/N so the inevitable moment where found his way inside of her was as soon as he could possibly manage. There was no point waiting.

The thought of waiting even 5 seconds longer was unbearable, so it wasn't long before he was buried deep within Y/N, both bodies coming together in a blissful union of flesh.

"Stay there for a bit. Jesus, Y/N, give me a second. I’m so close already, fuck."

Her hand was clamped on his chin as she forced him to look directly in her eyes. "Oh baby, you're so fucking eager," Y/N teased, smirking at his obvious lust filled gaze. Jeffrey gripped her hip tightly and yanked her in closer as their hips moved in sync to each other. "If you cum, I'll just keep going. I bet that will make you so, so whiney. Won't that be fun?"

"Don't say shit like that right now. I'm so close already."

Jeffrey clenched his jaw and groaned, gripping her waist harder as she continued to grind against him. He couldn't contain the moans or or the sounds of ecstasy emitting from his mouth with every thrust.

They fell into rhythm perfectly with the speed of their movements and soon, Jeffrey's mind became nothing more than white noise, completely devoid of any thought, any feeling, and simply focused solely on Y/N. His climax hit him hard, making him arch up as he came with a shout and his arms wrapped tighter and tighter around Y/N.

Y/N felt every inch of the shuddering man in front of her, every tremble of his muscles, every moan echoing through her veins and pulling her right to the edge because of how hot it was. All she heard was the sound of her own laboured breathing and the pounding of her heart in her ears; all she smelled was sex and sweat and blood as her body began to respond to what was happening inside her, pushing harder and faster until finally, she too reached her sweet release and her nails dug themselves deeper into Jeffrey's skin.

Afterward, they both lay still and panting on top of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with heavy hearts. Both of them were covered in sweat, with strands of hair clinging to their foreheads and falling onto their faces. It took both of them a while to calm down enough for either one to speak.

When they finally did talk, Jeffrey spoke first. "Fuck... I am so fucked." He turned onto his side to face her. "You've ruined other women for me, you know?" He gave her a soft smile, letting out a chuckle at the end, before continuing. "But, fuck you, you are something else."

"Aww, I think you've gone soft, Mr Steinberg," she giggled, pinching his shoulder teasingly. "Let's clean ourselves up."

Once they no longer smelt of sweat and sex, the pair were back in bed, curled up together beneath the covers. Neither one of them felt any desire to sleep at the moment, too occupied by the conversation they were having, but eventually, both succumbed to exhaustion and were awoken in the morning by Axel.

With his new ankle monitor, Jeffrey would be able to be a menace to everyone in Evergreen once again, yet this time he had someone to tug on the metaphorical dog leash whenever he was getting a little too out of control or too rowdy. The only person who could stop that idiot was Y/N, because she always seemed to find a way to snap out of those moods Jeffrey had, and for the rest of his life, he never had to go back into solitary confinement ever again.

There had been a couple of almosts, but as soon as his girlfriend told him to "quit it", he was done with the game, for the time being anyway.

*Click here for my Adrian Chase masterlist (including Jake Martin and Jeffrey Steinberg), or here for the entire masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

[elmundodeflor]

A letter from Hanji to Levi | post chapter 132 |

For Levi's month.

And for all of us who've ever lost someone to this world.

.

.

I'll wait for you.

Where the water meets the skies and stars dive into a deep sea of sand.

I'm okay. Here, cold doesn't burn and flowers never dry and I'm not afraid of life's own, fleeting fragility.

Now, my feet are bare and my hands hold nothing but sweet time to spend. Or is it time a mere human construction we've once hoped to tame?

Maybe, here, I just simply measure time in different dreams:

The tiny freckles that rain over your cheeks, like a million galaxies wide dotting over the nightfall. The spoons of sugar you put into your tea. The subtle glitching of your lips, when you can't help but melt into a smile; rare as it is.

I have no rush, although I miss you. Here, where the grass grows evergreen, I've learnt the art of patience.

Or maybe, my heart just froze the day it's been ripped from yours. And time stopped, then, too.

But don't you worry about me, my love. I'm still one in the same; a spirit wild and colorfully reckless, as you've always remembered me to be.

And each sunset when you whisper my name, I'm alive in another breath.

I'm not up or down. No left nor right. Here, the winds lull me with songs from places I've never dared walk, and my hair dances in the lavender breeze: tangled and rebellious and free all over again.

I've heard once, warm things are graced to those who wait. So I spy on you, every now and again, to avoid the kid in me run impatient towards your embrace.

And I play in-disguise, careful not to break the rules. And I send you signals only you and I are able to understand; for words have been forbidden eternal between us.

So I ruffle your curtains and chant with your kettle. I leave footsteps imprinted on the sea-shores, and paint your memory into the clouds that roll.

I let traces of me slide onto the Earth as I sit, ever so relentless. And I wish, with an innocence brighter than sunrise, that you'll be attentive enough to notice. That my slight indiscretions will one day make you happy.

Because I'm not gone, but a flickering presence. I'm not far, but buried very deep inside you: in the kind centres of your chest. In the gentle drumbeat of your pulse. In the corners of the house your love has long before built for me, big or small.

So don't you cry, my oh so brave boy. Don't you allow yourself pray to my taunting ghost.

Don't you know I turn to ash when your nightmares call? How helpless I ache when you say you want to become invisible, like birds migrating off to spring?

I've heard once, reuiniting is softer to those who've guarded with patience. And, as I watch silver threads crown your head of jemstones, my soul is easily sure, now:

Our moment can wait, still. You can arrive late. Get on the very last train, on the very last minute. Hug and hold and squeeze life until it's been down to its weakest, final drop.

And I'll be here. Always. With both arms open and a smile like fireworks.

And you'll fade into me as you race. And I'll braid poppys in between black locks. And we'll be able to speak, for all those other nights war payed for the silence in our souls.

But I have no rush, my golden soldier, although I do miss you. Don't you see? For once, I can forsake my longing, keep it hidden in the back-pocket.

Because every time you laugh, a glimpse of fire ignites my lungs. And i can inhale back to consciousness for a while.

And every time your eyes tell me you're okay, too, my heart can lay in peace: if only a little bit longer.

So take your time, my brightest Levi. Because time does not exist where I am.

And I'm still the same.

And I want you to live long, but not fast.

Don't you recall?

Between you and I, farewells are nothing but vanishing scars; your fist on my chest, our gazes making up promises to the sun.

When we let the words collide, bleeding hopeless from our lips, we can bend the horizon between our fingers. We can be immortal, even if just for a futile, magical moment.

Because, when you look at me, and I answer in ways only you will ever read, we're accomplices to eachother. Forever partners in crime.

And so, I'll wait for you.

Because, if it's up to us, it's never goodbye.

But a "see you later".

[seostart]

Unleashing the SEO Potential of Magazine Websites: Harnessing Their Unique Features

In the realm of digital marketing, mastering SEO optimization is akin to unlocking the gateway to online success. Amidst the vast array of online platforms, magazine websites emerge as hidden gems, offering a treasure trove of opportunities for bolstering SEO strategies. Let's explore further how these dynamic platforms can be harnessed to maximize SEO potential. mamkft.hu

Niche-Specific Targeting: Magazine websites are often tailored to specific niches, catering to audiences with distinct interests and preferences. This targeted approach presents businesses with a golden opportunity to align their SEO efforts with relevant niche markets. By strategically selecting magazine websites that resonate with their target audience, businesses can effectively tailor their content and keywords, thereby optimizing their SEO performance within specific niches.

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[sweetthepotato]

The Final Pillar: Chapter 4: Loud Enough to Scare the Birds Away

Disclaimer

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Parts of the Nightmare Hashira's past begin to unravel. She is then approached by a familiar, but friendly face.

Contents

Hints of fluff. Maybe some emotions.

Nightfall at this time of the year was incredibly cold. Luckily, Kagome managed to re-patch her clothes in time for her stay outside in the wilderness.

The Nightmare user had managed to climb up an oak tree and rest on one of its larger branches. Her legs were outstretched along the length of a thick branch, and she kept herself secure by focusing her breathing on her sense of balance. She was fortunate that the intel she gathered regarding the town's surrounding forest was accurate, though the trees were less evergreen than she had anticipated.

It had been more than two days of training that required the use of makeshift traps and various exercises. In her current condition, her muscles felt like lead, but that was exactly what she was after. Holding herself taught against the rough bark, she was reminded that the extent of her strength as a human was vastly limited, and so she needed to push herself beyond if she had any chance of protecting anyone else.

Her activity now was star watching, which was a rare treat that derived as a result of being close to sights periodically visited by demon slayers. She noticed how the stars burnt brightly tonight, and how the moon was now a waxing crescent. She supped at the silence, appreciating the fact that no one else seemed to have come by her position. She assumed, in her sweet solitude, that the other pillars would've been assigned missions by now.

With a deep inhale, then an exhale, she meditated. It was difficult, untangling her mind to the visage of a straight, unending line, but her heartbeat slowed to a less erratic pace. With her newfound calm, came her ruminations, which petered out alongside each slow breath. Each second that passed her by was purposeful; since her previous mission, the Nightmare user resolved to rely more on her forms. The reflection that the title of 'hashira' was something that was thrust upon her, rather than something she was actively pursuing bore down on her shoulders. It took a while for her to finally manage placing those insecurities to the side.

The picture she was currently seeing was akin to a blank slate, which allowed her to progress onto her sense of perception, her radius widening across the forest floor. Within her mind, she tried to envision the presences that pinged on her radar. She started as big as she could go, beginning with the existence of a snoring boar, and then moving onto that of the tree snakes and frogs that moved into the night. She stretched her perception further, trying to catch the smallest insect that made the signals in her body hum, to even the presence of trees and grass.

Each sign of life was a soothing balm to her. With her eyes closed, she was eventually lulled to sleep, her deep-seated tiredness managing to creep in. Her head leant against the trunk of the tree, feeling heavier and heavier...

...The colours in her brain started to swim. They blurred and swirled together, but as the clouds shifted, they organised themselves into a recognisable image in the dark. Given some time, she eventually realised that it wasn't just a still tableaux, but rather a moving picture.

At first, she saw a man in his late teens, his honey-coloured hair covering the scar that implied the loss of his left eye. Soft strands, framing an angular face, were tucked back, showing off the gold cuff on the edge of his right ear. The man was familiar, at least, but the last time she saw him had been when she was twelve.

He wore the standard uniform of the Demon Slayer Corps. The usual kanji for 'destroy' was on his back, but it was hidden by a pale indigo haori that looked like it was ripped apart and stitched together at various points. The katana and wakizashi on either side of his hips did little to dissuade her of his truly gentle nature, of the arms that she could remember warmly embracing her when she was little. Neither did his most menacing accessory, the curious-looking but ugly oni mask that sat securely at the top of his head.

He was crouching down, his eyebrow raised to show off his caramel eye. His calloused hand, much bigger than it looked the last time, was held out in offering. Another hand -was it hers? -much younger and much smaller than it should be, stretched towards it.

'So you're the kid who keeps stealing my demons, huh? And here I was, thinking that I'd be promoted a lot quicker,' said the man, pouting. His voice was mellow, jovial even, in the way he spoke.

Demons? That's what they were? The last one had knocked her down for a tick, but she could sense that they were different from normal humans somehow. They were more like her, but not. Her gut instinct, though, told her that if she wanted to live, she had to eliminate them first, and that was the voice she had to follow.

It had been a while since anyone bothered to talk to her. The rage she felt since she was much younger had died down into a familiar, hungry pain. She looked every part of a normal, human child, but she didn't feel like she was one, really.

After a period of silence, the slayer stopped pouting, his lone amber eye wary of the broken katana held in the child's hands. She was bleeding, almost set on losing fingers on the blade, it seemed.

He inhaled, pausing a moment, and smiled, 'You know, you did brilliantly, killing that demon. How old are you? Seven? I'm, hm...' he counted on the hand that wasn't holding his nichirin, 'Well, I'm turning eighteen in the summer. Do you have a name?'

She stared at him through a curtain of matted hair. She thought of his question in bewilderment. She had a name, once, one that she came to hate eventually.

'No? It's not uncommon, I suppose, for street urchins to be without names... I guess I'll have to introduce myself. I'm-'

-Kagome startled awake.

She cursed herself for lacking the vigilance to stay up the previous night. She felt the wetness that was present on her cheeks, start to dry up in the open air. Her left hand, as if on impulse, was already grabbing onto her nichirin katana, a long blade that stretched into darker shades of teal at its point.

Her haunches rising, she realised that the forest in the daylight was too absent of noise.

Thinking about what might be out there, she struggled to shrug of the last dredges of grogginess from her system. She reasoned that, since it was just before midday, it was highly unlikely that it was a demon of any kind. If anything, whatever beast that was encroaching on her terrirtory was most likely human or, for some probable reason, a very self-conscious bear.

Oh, wait! She remembered, startled from her reverie. I forgot to tidy up those traps yesterday!

With that in mind, she frantically hoped for the latter probability. At least, a bear's death from surprise stakes to the face wouldn't result in a tribunal.

A branch snapped and Kagome heard the sound of a shoe digging into soil. She crouched, legs bent from where she was perched, and leapt down towards a much lower branch. She restrained her own sense of self to match the wavelength of her surroundings.

'Hello? I know that someone's here, I managed to dodge the last set of knives, and so I'd like to meet whomever set those up!'

Was it just her imagination, or did that voice sound familiar? She peered down from where she was, and spotted the blond patch of hair belonging to Rengoku.

She let out a slow sigh of relief.

'Kagome-kun? Ah, of course this was your handiwork!' To her chagrin, his eyes, now tinted an ochre shade in the sunlight, were pointed at her tree. She was shocked, believing herself still hidden by foliage.

'Senpai, what are you doing here?' She asked, after some time.

Rengoku grinned, his top row of teeth showing without any resemblance of malice, 'Iguro-san and Kanroji-kun were both called away for missions! I was staying at your inn for the last few days as well, funnily enough!'

Well that... that was unexpected. She leapt from her branch onto the forest floor below. She made sure that her legs were bent on the way down, so as to absorb the impact.

And there he was, white embellished cloak and all.

'I had no doubt you have good taste, not just with inns, but also with trap-making, I had an excellent time experiencing both, Kagome-kun!'

'I see...' she began, 'And you, senpai, I'm assuming, are heading towards your place of residence?'

Rengoku nodded with enthusiasm, resulting in Kagome becoming more perplexed. He was prepared to travel, but he came here? And decided to converse -with her?

'Why did you decide to use the forest, if the nearby towns are comparatively more comfortable?'

He took a moment to ponder the question, his eyes glinting with amusement, 'While you're correct in the sense that the nearby towns would shelter me from the elements, there are times when even I need a break from interacting with other people! I'm sure that you can also relate to that?'

Yes, very much so, she nodded. Even without her biology making her feel so conscious, she felt the most stifled in the middle of crowds and with the vast majority of strangers. She didn't know him too well, but for someone like Rengoku to admit to that...

'I thought as much!' He surmised, 'Since you're also here, if you'd like, we can travel together until either I reach my estate or either of us get called up for missions!'

Kagome fought her instinct to walk away there and then, her shyness wanting to take control over her body. But then again, there was a secondary emotion, one that wanted to keen into the Flame Hashira's openness. He appeared to be a dramatic departure from Iguro's interrogation back at the donburi-ya, which compelled her to stay put. Unlike the Snake Breathing user, he was giving her the option to refuse, as if that was the least he could do.

Kyojuro eyed his kouhai carefully, who'd re-sheathed her nichirin only moments ago upon discovering that it was him.

Ambling awkwardly on her feet, she was holding her forearm, a nervous habit, he supposed. She looked up at him from her petite height, the very picture of a young girl trying to imitate the demeanour of someone else more composed.

His thoughts strayed, wondering where she kept the person whose tripwire launched a series of poisoned arrows at his feet. Uzui said that he found her was amusing, and his flamboyant friend was hardly ever wrong.

'Oh, and before I forget!' He interjected, 'If you are joining me, we should still have plenty of time to disable any traps along the way! We could also train, if you'd like!'

Eyes widening, her quiet stammering was a source of ample entertainment. While he didn't know where it came from, exactly, he didn't have to exert much effort to observe the brunette's insecurity among the others in the upper ranks. He was also able to perceive that she was reserved in the way that Muichiro wasn't, despite their similar ages. Her presence during that previous meeting made him remember his own introduction to the other pillars. If she was indeed intimidated by all of their strong personalities, he understood that feeling, at least.

She took a while to consider his offer, her eyebrows furrowing and then unfurling into the centre of her face, 'I... I don't mind joining you, if that's what we're going to do.'

'Well then, that's settled,' he nodded, turning around to lead the way through the piles of yellowing leaves.

'Uh, senpai,' she called in a thin voice, walking briskly from behind him, trying to catch up to his pace.

'Yes?'

'Those traps... um... I really intended to dismantle those earlier, just so you know.'

And, as if all the tension in the air subsided, Kyojuro laughed loud enough to scare the birds away.

[training4theapocalypse]

Yes, chef (Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 6k

Warnings / Tags: SMUT, Sex pollen, Established friendship, Friends to lovers, Mutual pining.

Summary: Most people in Evergreen think Jeffrey is an asshole. But you’re the only one who knows him from before - he was your favourite customer at your restaurant. And even if he's an egotist, deep down you know he's sweet. He even has a special surprise for you to take your mind off of the apocalypse.

A/N: Call me a men's rights activist because Jeffrey Steinberg did nothing wrong. (I'm joking - please never call me that)

Masterlist

Chapter text

You sit at the edge of the lake with an almost empty pack of cigarettes in your hand. The artificial sun sets in the distance as you feel the last cigarette in existence rolling around inside the confines of its battered cardboard prison.

Footsteps approach you on the grassy verge. You don’t need to look around to see who it is. You only have one friend in Evergreen who’d bother to come and find you. And as far as you can tell, he only has you. Unless he considers Cortex to be a friend.

“Do you think he put the lake here just to fuck with me?” you ask when Jeffrey Steinberg's footsteps come to a halt beside you but you still don’t take your eyes off the still body of water.

“Well, I think he put a lot of things in here to fuck with us,” says Jeffrey with a deep sigh as he lowers himself on the ground to sit next to you. “What makes you think the lake was one of them?”

“No fish.”

It catches you off-guard when Jeffrey laughs at this. You look at him seriously and it only makes his handsome but tired face break into an even wider smile as he laughs hard at your expense. You try to pout but it’s infectious. Your lips twist reluctantly into a smile as he rests on his elbows and leans back to observe the lake.

“No fish…” he chuckles, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Well, yeah, it would be pretty fucked up to trap a world-famous seafood chef in an ecosphere with an empty lake.” Jeffrey looks out at the water. “But it’s just a reservoir. For recycling and filtering the water supply.”

“You really get this place, Jeffrey. No wonder Fin wanted you here.”

“You’re clever too. I mean, your business acumen? You own an empire of restaurants -”

“Stop. We both know why he really wanted me here.”

Jeffrey takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his next words. “He was a real piece of shit. Or is, I suppose. If he ever wakes up.”

“You know how many times Fin tried to hire me to be his personal chef? I mean, he offered me a lot of money. I’m talking about generational wealth. It would make your eyes water.” Jeffrey raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not your eyes. But most people’s. And I told him ‘No’.”

“See? Clever. Like I said.”

“So what does he do?” You press on, feeling like there’s steam coming out of your ears as Jeffrey lets you rant. “Let me die in peace with everyone I know? ‘Course not.” You make a disgusted noise. “I mean you guys… you guys are all essential to making Evergreen a success. And I’m not saying it’s right -” you add hastily when he opens his mouth to argue. “ - but you can see the logic. Me though? Cortex can synthesise food so he didn’t need a cook… No, he just wanted me here. Trapped for the rest of my life as a fucking servant.” You meet Jeffrey’s eyes behind the reflection of the sunset on his glasses. “I loved saying ‘No’ to him, y’know? I was like the one thing he couldn’t have. The thing that he couldn’t get by throwing money at.”

Jeffrey hesitates for a few moments. You suppose that before the asteroid hit Earth he used to be the kind of guy who got whatever he wanted by throwing money at it. “Is that why you haven’t cooked anything since you came down here?” he asks.

“It’s not much. But I suppose I still have my own free will.” 

“Are those cigarettes?” asks Jeffrey, noticing you spinning the almost empty carton in your hands.

“Goes hand in hand with the industry.” You’d kill for a smoke break in the dirty alley behind a greasy kitchen right now. “But I’ve actually decided to quit.”

“You mean you had to quit. Unless Fin has a tobacconist down here that I don’t know about.”

“As long as there’s one cigarette left, I’ve chosen to quit. Free will.” You give him a small smile. “Is that stupid?”

“I suppose that all depends on your understanding of the concept of free will -” He stops himself when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I mean - sorry, I’ll shut up and stop ruining your attempt to have some autonomy.”

“Don’t be sorry. It must be hard being so smart - I guess you can’t turn it off.”

“Smart people know when to shut up and stop trying to prove themselves. I was just being a dickhead know-it-all.”

“I don’t think you’re a dickhead.”

“Hah, don’t say that in front of the others if you want to make friends,” Jeffrey says sourly.

“What do they know? They know you in here but I knew you out there. And out of all the rich assholes who came to my restaurants, you were my favourite.”

He chuckles and rests back on his palms. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’d always get your assistants to book way in advance. Make sure you had a big plate of oysters waiting to impress woman after woman you’d bring in,” you smirk.

“God, I miss that,” says Jeffrey tilting his head back and looking at the sky. “Mostly the oysters but - ”

“- And you always left a huge tip for my staff.” You continue, preferring not to be reminded of Jeffrey Steinberg’s never-ending stream of previous conquests. “They liked you too. But Fin? Do you know the number of times I had Hannah calling my personal phone in tears because Fin wanted a table the same night or he’d fire her?” You roll your eyes. “As if I didn’t have a restaurant already packed with other billionaires and Saudi Princes that I could just bump.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Get Fin a table?”

“Well, yeah. But only because Hannah’s neck was on the line. It wasn’t so many years ago that I was in her position. Working for asshole Head Chefs who demanded the impossible.”

You put the pack of cigarettes back in your pocket and rest your head in your hands.

“It’s so gross to most people,” you say into your palms. “But I miss the fishy smell, even though I hated it at the time. And now I won’t get to smell it ever again.” You inhale deeply. Your hands smell clinically clean. Like hospital disinfectant.

“You still worked in the kitchen? I thought you’d have chefs to do that for you?”

“Of course I did. You think I put that jacket on for show when I came to your table to see you?” He shrugs. “I loved it. I loved being in the restaurant kitchen, preparing food. More than anything.” 

“Well…” You look up and see him smiling at you, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s funny you should mention it. Because I have something to show you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oysters.

Nico was growing fucking oysters in her lab.

Jeffrey said she had needed them to harvest their large amounts of zinc and other nutrients for her experiments - scientific jargon that went over your head. 

All you know is that you practically feel giddy as you and Jeffrey turn out the lights of Nico’s DNA bank and sneak along the corridor to the speakeasy. 

You’re not sure why exactly you’re sneaking - Jeffrey basically runs this place. But you like that this is something for just the two of you. Something that the others can’t ruin with their chaos.

“Get some champagne and two glasses,” you say as the door to the speakeasy slides open.

“Yes, chef,” says Jeffrey when you run the cold tap behind the bar to clean the oysters. “Need anything else?” 

“See if you can find a big plate and fill it up with ice.”

“What kind of ice?” asks Jeffrey looking at the fancy ice machine. “Crushed? Cubed? Ooh, spheres?”

“How many times have you eaten oysters on spherical ice in one of my restaurants?”

“Crushed. Got it.” 

He puts the plate of ice on the bar and watches you from the other side as you shuck them.

“You know what they say about oysters though, right?”

“What’s that?” you ask absently, concentrating on sliding the knife between the shells.

“That they’re an aphrodisiac.”

Your knife almost slips when you look up at the stupid smirk on his face. You quickly avert your eyes back down at the task at hand. There’s no way you’d even consider starting any kind of romantic relationship down here. All of your previous relationships have ended badly - you can’t even begin to imagine how messy it would be if you were trapped in an Ecosphere with an ex-lover for the rest of your life.

“As if, Jeffrey. Even if you are the last fuckable man left on Earth.”

“Oh yeah? What about Axel and David?”

You shrug. Axel and David are good-looking in the way that most wealthy, successful men are but there’s something about Jeffrey with his rolled-up shirt sleeves, slutty little glasses and permanently messy hair that he’s always running his hands through, that makes you seriously reconsider your determination not to have a messy fling while you’re stuck here.

“This is a very dangerous conversation to be having while I’m holding a knife,” you tut, pointing it at him before resuming what you were doing. “Besides, I thought you were a man of science? You should know there’s no concrete evidence to say oysters really are an aphrodisiac.”

“That’s not what your Maitre D’ told me on Valentine’s night.”

“That,” you say, placing the two oysters onto the ice. “Is because if they say that we sell more. And the markup on these things is enormous.”

You slide the plate across the bar towards Jeffrey.

“Shall we?” he asks.

“No, let’s sit down over there.” You nod to the plush leather sofa behind him. “I want to pretend I’m in a nice restaurant, having a good time.”

“Like on a date?” He tilts his head.

You laugh. “Like two friends who have just finished a hard week at work. An exceptionally hard week. Grab the champagne, will you?”

You set everything down on the small table and sit down on the sofa. Jeffrey sits beside you and starts pouring champagne into two glasses. 

“Give it here,” you say, gesturing for the bottle. “I wish we had fresh lemons or something acidic -”

“There’s Tabasco for Bloody Marys?” He nods at the bar cart.

“That’s more spicy than acidic…”

“Tabasco has a pH level of 4. It’s acidic.”

“Alright then, we can use Tabasco since it’s scientifically proven.”

“I sound like a dickhead know-it-all again, don’t I?” Jeffrey asks, getting up to find the bottle of hot sauce from the cart.

“It is kind of funny how you just can’t help yourself…” He sits down and passes you the Tobasco. “A few drops of something acidic and a tiny, tiny dash of champagne -” You spill a small drop of champagne onto each oyster. “Pairs excellently with Morecambe Bay rock oysters. So we can pretend that’s what we’re having instead of whatever lab-grown monstrosities these are... Ready?”

You pick up your oyster and Jeffrey does the same. You both tilt your heads back and swallow. As soon as the oyster hits the back of your throat, you feel warmth flooding through your veins. Every nerve ending sings. You suppose your body is just grateful that you’re finally feeding it with real, unsynthesised food. Even if it was grown by Nico in a lab.

“Even if these do turn out to be poisonous… what a way to go,” says Jeffrey. From the look on his face, you can see he’s almost as elated as you.

“Cheers to that,” you say, picking up your champagne glass and clinking it against his before taking a sip. “What champagne is this? No wait - let me guess!” You determinedly look away from the bottle. “Dom Perignon 2004?”

“Would you look at that? I’m not the only one who’s a know-it-all.”

The impressed note in his voice makes you beam. You look from the champagne label back at Jeffrey staring intently at you. And God, maybe it’s the dim light in here or the way he’s sitting with his arm relaxed on the back of the sofa but he looks… good. Maybe you’ve been under so much stress here in Evergreen that you’ve never really been tempted by how jaw-droppingly fuckable he looks. 

It makes you wholeheartedly reconsider his suggestion.

“So if this was a date…” You begin and Jeffrey blinks at you as if snapping out of something. “What would your opening move be?”

He scoffs at you playfully. “I don’t need moves.”

“Oh, yeah? Women throwing themselves at you so often that you’ve forgotten the art of seduction?”

“Sort of,” he takes another sip of champagne. “I don’t know, I’d probably ask you what you did for a living. Are you a model slash actress? Or an actress slash model?”

“Ah, so in short, I’m not your type?”

“How many other chefs have been in Vogue?”

You feel flushed that he knows about your magazine features. But the heat creeping up your neck doesn’t stop at your face. It’s fucking boiling in here. Like a kitchen in the middle of a dinner rush on the busiest night of the year.

“And that works? Just asking them where they work?” You take another sip of champagne, hoping it will cool you down but the chilled liquid fizzes and practically sizzles on your tongue. Why is your mouth so warm?

“One hundred per cent success rate so far.”

“Go on then, let’s see if we can fudge those numbers.”

“You want me to try and pick you up?” He adjusts his navy shirt collar slightly and you can’t tear your eyes away from his Adam’s apple moving as he does. The heat you’re feeling spreads across your chest - you’re so warm that you want to rip your sweater off and toss it on the floor.

“Just for fun,” you say but you feel your heart beating so quickly in your ribcage that you’re sure it’s going to betray you. That he’ll notice.

“Alright.” 

He moves in closer and you’re sure he must be able to actually hear the pounding in your chest. You can smell his aftershave from here. It’s sweeter than you’d expected it to be. Spicy vanilla with notes of tangerine. You could easily eat him for dessert. 

“So what do you do, then?” he says, jolting you out of your daydream.

“I, um, I own a couple of seafood restaurants.”

“A couple? Yeah, right.”

“Well, a few.”

“I bet they’re extremely upscale. Not tacky like this place.”

“Some people would say that.” You smile. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a racecar driver.”

“A racecar driver who wears glasses?”

“Alright, you’ve got me. I’m actually a masked vigilante.”

“Jeffrey…”

“I manage a college radio station?”

“So you lie about what you do on dates?”

“No. But I probably should. Because I’m a billionaire CEO.” He rolls his eyes as he says the last two words like it’s an inconvenience.

“Now why does that sound like the least believable one on that list?”

He runs his hand through his tousled, dark hair and you notice a bead of sweat clinging to his brow. 

“Are you warm too?” You ask and bring the chilled champagne glass to rest against your neck.

“It’s like a million degrees in here.” He looks up at the ceiling. “Cortex? What’s the temperature reading in this room?”

“It is twenty-two degrees Celsius,” says Cortex’s disembodied electronic voice.

That doesn’t sound right. It feels more like forty. 

“Cortex, can you turn up the air conditioning?”

You feel a blast of cold air sweeping over your skin. As the surface of your skin cools slightly, you notice that the heat from your body seems to permeate from your core, like the heat is coming from deep in your pelvis. No external breeze is going to help whatever this is.

“It is now seventeen degrees Celsius,” says Cortex after a few moments of silence where you and Jeffrey both determinedly look at anything but each other. Your eyes dart around the room as if expecting to see the heat.

“Do you think it’s broken?” you ask, not feeling any less warm.

“Cortex is never wrong… You don’t think it’s food poisoning, do you?”

“If it were food poisoning, it would take longer than a few minutes to kick in. And you’d be feeling more than just warm.”

He doesn’t say anything. You wonder if he too is feeling more than just warm - and not in a food poisoning sort of way. You wonder if he also has a deep, throbbing sensation in his underwear that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

He pushes up his glasses to wipe sweat from the bridge of his nose. Those glasses. They’re so, devastatingly cute. You have a sudden, aching urge to see those glasses steamed up.

“Why do you still wear those?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the way your body is screaming for attention. “Surely a guy like you would get laser eye surgery.”

“Here.” He takes his glasses off with one hand and passes them to you. “Put them on.”

You do. And you can see perfectly.

“They’re… just glass?”

“Yep. I am the type of guy that gets laser eye surgery. I just like how they look.”

“You slut.”

He almost spits out his drink. “What?!”

“These are like the sluttiest thing a man can wear!”

Now that his glasses are off, you notice just how green his eyes are. You can’t imagine having eyes that beautiful and hiding them behind glasses all the time. 

You push his glasses up your nose but they slip again. 

Fucking hell, you’re on fire. 

You feel a drop of sweat roll from the nape of your neck down between your shoulder blades, sending a shiver down your spine. You need to take off this sweater before you turn into a soaking mess. Although your torso isn’t the only thing that’s sopping wet right now - you shift uncomfortably, feeling the way your underwear is saturated.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m just - just too fucking warm. Here, hold this a sec,” you say and pass him your champagne flute so you can pull your sweater off over your head, taking care not to catch it on the glasses still on your face. When you disentangle yourself you find him staring, unashamedly open-mouthed at your chest.

You look down. Your tank top is almost entirely translucent with sweat and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Why are your nipples hard? It’s the opposite of cold.

“Sorry,” you say and cover your tits with your hands. Oh fuck. Why does the way you touch your own body feel so fucking good right now? “I didn’t realise…”

“It’s okay. We’re all friends here.”

“I… I don’t think I can let go,” you say, feeling your chest rising and falling under your palms. “I think I need something cold.”

Jeffrey looks at the ice-filled plate next to you. “What -” He swallows thickly. “What did you say again about the science? About oysters not being an aphrodisiac?”

“I…” Your mind feels blank. Like a rosy mist is clouding your brain. “I can’t remember.”

“I just wonder if Nico maybe didn’t get the chemical composition of those oysters quite right.”

His eyes meet yours. They don’t look as bright green anymore. They’re impossibly dark. Like his pupils are trying to find light in a pitch-black room.

“Do you feel… turned on?” he asks.

You take a gulp of air and your hands jolt from the fresh intake of oxygen. “No,” you lie, feeling your hard nipples under your palms. “Just hot.”

“Yeah… yeah, me too.” He puts down the champagne flutes, grabs and handful of ice and holds it to his neck. You watch breathlessly as it melts against his skin, trickling down his shirt. You grip your chest helplessly, not daring to remove your hands and do the same.

He notices the way your eyes linger on him. “Do you want me to…?” He thinks the longing look is for something cold when in actual fact, you’re jealous that the ice gets to roll down his delicious neck. You nod and he takes another handful of ice. He gets on his knees and leans over you, pressing it against your neck.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine and sink back into the corner of the sofa, feeling the crushed ice melting against your throat. 

You can’t do anything except grab your own tits and try to steady your breathing as he holds it against you. But even as you breathe, the smell of his expensive cologne breaches your lungs.

“Your - your cologne is nice,” you say in an attempt to make conversation that isn’t about how good he’s making you feel right now. “What kind is it?”

“It’s bespoke. There’s a - a place in Paris that…” He trails off and you realise the ice has melted completely and he’s just holding your neck. Jeffrey’s hand is furnace-like. But it doesn’t make you feel any worse, on the contrary, it sends a pleasant tingling sensation through your body. Like his touch is answering the unasked question that you’re screaming internally. “Did that help?”

“The ice didn’t… But this is.”

You hope he won’t force you to elaborate that his skin touching yours is the only thing that’s making you feel better right now. 

“Me too,” he says but before you get the chance to respond, his knee slips on the leather and his hips fall between your open legs. You feel his hard cock pressing against the seam of your jeans, right onto your clit. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” But despite his babbled stream of apology, he doesn’t pull back. 

Doesn’t stop.

His hand moves from your throat to lace the hair at the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against you. And you realise now, he’s getting the same relief from physical contact that you’re feeling. The only difference is that you’re restraining yourself much better than he is right now. And while Jeffrey might be kind of a nerd, he’s bigger and stronger than you. You’re not sure you could fight him off. Even if you wanted to.

“Jeffrey?” you say uncertainly - not because it doesn’t feel good but because you feel like you should for his sake. The irony isn’t lost on you that after all your complaints about Fin respecting your free will, you want Jeffrey to ignore it. 

That you want him to pin you down and get off however he likes.

It seems to jolt something in him. “Shit.” He jerks his hips back slightly and your whole body screams in protest. “I don’t know what - I don’t know why I did that.”

Your pussy throbs. “Do it again,” you whisper.

“Wha - really?”

Jeffrey looks down from your face to your body and back again. You breathe deeply, trying to calm yourself.

“Unless - unless you don’t want to?” you breathe.

Jeffrey swoops down and shuts you up, kissing you like he’s been wanting to do it for fucking years. You can’t thread your hands through his curly hair the way you want to because his chest is trapping your hands firmly against your tits. Instead, you pant as his tongue licks inside your mouth. His teeth pull on your sensitive bottom lip, harder than you expected, but you like it. More than like it.

Jeffrey’s tongue slides down your neck, tasting the combination of sweat and melted ice on your skin. His hands push up the bottom of your soaked tank top and with reluctance, you release the comforting grip on your chest. Your discomfort is quickly replaced with pleasure when he pushes your breasts together with his own warm hands and sucks urgently on your nipples like he can’t decide which one he wants to pay attention to first.

You squirm underneath him. You need these jeans off. You need his everything off.

“Fuck - let me - let me see you,” you whimper.

“Mhm,” he murmurs and detaches himself from your nipple. “In a minute.”

He resumes his frantic sucking and slobbering all over your tits. The pulsing in your clit can’t be fucking ignored now. Every flick of his tongue against your chest makes your core clench and tighten.

“Please, Jeffrey.” You barely recognise the pathetic plea that leaves your lips. What he’s doing feels good, sure, but you need him to fuck you. It’s not just a want. You think you might spontaneously combust if he doesn’t start paying attention to your pussy.

He lifts himself off you and starts taking off his shirt. You watch his fingers undo every button as you carelessly yank off your jeans and underwear in one fell swoop and toss them into a pile with your shoes and sweater onto the luxuriously carpeted floor. 

“Oh, god,” you say, in annoyance as he removes his shirt and you can see his muscular chest and toned stomach. “Of course you have abs.”

“And you’re mad about that?” he smirks.

“Because you have everything. You’re fucking… ugh, you’re fucking perfect.”

“Well,” he says, undoing his belt. “If that’s the case, you’re going to be really pissed off when you see this.”

That arrogant piece of -

Your train of thought is cut off when he takes his cock in his hand. 

He’s right. 

You’re furious. 

Furious that not only does Jeffrey have a perfect face and perfect body has a fucking perfect cock too. Suddenly your mouth feels dry. You know a thing or two about dating men on Forbes’ Richest List - and all previous experience has shown you that the Venn Diagram of billionaires, tiny dicks and premature ejaculators is practically a circle.

But Jeffrey? It looks like Jeffrey is a fucking outlier. Well, at least on the first two.

“I hate you right now,” you complain, and lie back down, watching him stroke himself between your legs. 

“I can change your mind,” he grins and lowers his head to kiss your stomach.

As soon as his lips graze your soft skin, your thigh muscles twitch. “Ah, fuck. No - wait. Just fuck me. Please,” you whine.

You don’t really understand why you’re saying it. If there’s something you love it’s having a powerful man with his face buried between your legs. God knows you’ve been through enough of them. 

But something - something chemical - at the back of your mind is yelling at you that you need fucked. Hard. Now.

“You don’t want me to -?”

“Later,” you plead. 

You don’t need to tell him twice. From the sight of his leaking cock, you know why. The same ache is pulsing through his veins. 

“Fuck, c’mere,” he grunts, pulling you closer by the hips. Jeffrey runs the head of his cock along your dripping slit and you almost cry out with need.

“Just put it in - oh, fuck -“

The instruction on your lips is cut off when he pushes forcefully through your folds. As soon as he fully sheathes himself, he slides his hands under your shoulders, pressing his full body weight into yours as he starts thrusting into you.

Normally, you’re a perfectionist. Your profession demands it, of course, but your demands don’t stop in the kitchen. In the bedroom, you have a particular way of liking things to be done and you’re not shy about expressing them. But right now, for the first time ever, your body doesn’t care about the finer details. Your pleasure doesn’t need to be carefully constructed in the exact way and order you’ve previously always needed. 

All your pussy craves is exactly what Jeffrey is doing to it - which is fucking pounding you with seemingly zero regard for your own pleasure. As soon as he feels your pussy squeezing around him, some kind of basic instinct takes over and he’s merely using you as a tight hole to fuck himself into.

“Jesus, fuck, Jeffrey…”

You wrap your legs around his little waist, opening your hips up further so he can drill right into your G-spot. Your walls clamp and convulse around him as every sloppy, wet thrust draws your orgasm closer and closer.

“Fuckfuckfuck - yesssss,” you sob through gritted teeth right in his ear. You can tell by the way his fist in your hair tightens at the noises you’re making that he loves hearing you moan so unashamedly. 

And you’re right. Because Jeffrey never thought you’d be like this. Always keeping him at arm’s length as a professional acquaintance. Never anything more. A fleeting flirtation maybe once or twice in all the years you’d known him. But never any indication that made him think you actually liked him. Never anything that would have him guessing that one day you’d end up wriggling underneath him, practically fucking yourself up into him and whimpering in his ear.

You can feel your pussy leaking all over Finn’s leather sofa when he moans something raggedly into the juncture of your neck. Your name.

Oh - fuck.

You were sort of lost in the fuzzy, clouded haze of how good he felt you almost forgot it was Jeffrey Steinberg who was fucking you until you heard your name on his lips. Jeffrey Steinberg and his slutty, dorky little glasses and his perfect fucking body that you can’t even see right now because you’re staring at the wood-panelled ceiling. 

“Let me - let me see you,” you pant and gently push on his shoulders. 

Jeffrey lifts himself off of you and without pulling out, keeps fucking you on his knees with one of your legs over his shoulder. Fuck - this angle. He’s so deep. And, Christ, so beautiful. His toned body is sticky with sweat, right down to the smattering of hair covering his lower abdomen. You look down to see his thick cock sliding in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So fucking sloppy,” he groans, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he too looks over your body, watching your tits bounce with every slapping thrust into you. 

His concentration face is cute. Devastatingly so. But something’s missing…

“Where’s your glasses?”

Jeffrey’s hand caresses your face and the heel of his palm moves the wire frames, making you realise you’re still wearing them.

“Do you want them back?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“You look slutty in them too,” he says and cups your face. He drags his thumb across your lip and you open your mouth so you can suck it.

“Mm-mm-mm…” Your hum around his thumb, stuttered by every pounding of his hips against yours gives you something to concentrate on. God, you’re so close. So fucking close. And you try to stop bucking your hips because you really, don’t want to cum just yet.

But it’s like Jeffrey is reading your mind.

“You gonna cum for me?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. Because instinct tells you that as soon as you both cum, whatever hormones Nico has pumped into these oysters will probably leave your system. And that this will all be over. That you’ll go back to being friends.

“Not - fuck - not yet.” Is all you can manage to stammer as Jeffrey’s hips continue their relentless pursuit into yours.

“C’mon, I can tell you’re close,” he says, right as your pussy clenches around his length. “We’ve been down here for so long. Aren’t you tired of waiting?”

“I don’t - oh, god… I don’t want this to be over.” Jeffrey looks at you so intently that you need to shut your eyes. It’s like staring at the sun - if you don’t look away you’ll get burned. “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet…” The words keep spilling out like a mantra. If you keep repeating it, it’ll be true - right?

Wrong.

Everything pulls up in your core and tightens like a spring coiling. Oh, shit.

“This isn’t going to be over after you cum. It’s never going to be over. You’re trapped down here with me, remember?”

Fuck.

“Eyes on me,” he continues. “Look at me when you cum.” You look up at Jeffrey helplessly through his own askew, slightly steamed-up glasses still on your face. “I’ve wanted to see you like this for - for so long.”

Like this? With your flushed cheeks and messy hair and sweat practically pooling on your stomach from the heat? The corners of his mouth turn upwards in a gentle smile, showing off his dimples before he turns his head to kiss your calf leaning against his shoulder. 

It’s so sweet. You’re done for. 

There’s no stopping your orgasm now as you feel a surge of heat and the contracting of muscles in your abdomen.

“So - fuck - so fucking pretty,” he says through gritted teeth as he watches you squirm. The pleasant way you wriggle against him and force yourself to maintain eye contact spurs him on. He grabs your hips and fucks himself as fast and as deep as he can into you, pounding into your G-spot as you speed past the point of no return. “That’s it, baby, you can cum for me.”

Christ.

“Fuck, Jeffrey, I’m - fuck  - I’m -”

But just what you are is cut off when your climax takes hold of you and shuts down your loquaciousness. Everything goes black and you barely realise what’s happening - all you can focus on is your pussy camping down and spasming around him. It’s only when you feel the sensation of his glasses pressed into your face do you realise Jeffrey is kissing you. 

He grinds his hips deep into yours, cumming deep inside you as your own ecstasy sends fireworks ricocheting from your core right to your extremities. 

.Jeffrey sits back on his knees again, his hips still rocking gently into you, forcing the combined mess of his cum and your wetness to spill down between your legs and all over Fin’s couch.

“Jeffrey, that was - ”

“We’re not done yet,” says Jeffrey smearing a wet thumb across your clit. “I told you - you’re trapped here with me.”

Your eyes roll back in your head. 

You think you might need to revisit your Venn diagram.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jeffrey both lie, sprawled out and naked on the carpeted floor of the speakeasy. Both wet. Both sticky. Both trying to catch your breath. You have no idea where his glasses are.

Your mind feels clearer now and you wonder if his does too. You turn your head to look at him, frowning up at the ceiling. 

“Jeffrey, are you alright…?”

“I’m worse than Fin,” he groans. 

Worse than Fin? This is serious. In your eyes, nobody is worse than Fin. You prop yourself up on your elbow. “What do you mean?”

“Always trying to get what I can’t have.”

Your frown. “I don’t understand. What can’t you have?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He runs his hand through his hair in that stressed-out way he always does. “The fact you thought I was a good customer? When all I was doing was parading my dates in front of you in a stupid attempt to make you jealous.”

“You - you were?” The thought that Jeffrey didn’t just want you because he’s ingested god-knows-what chemicals Nico has pumped into those oysters sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.

He laughs at himself scornfully. “I never wanted to be there with them. I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He’s startled by your tone. “What?”

“It took a fucking asteroid hitting Earth for you to admit you like me?”

“You never seemed interested!”

“What was I gonna say? ‘Hey, Jeffrey. I know you’re busy being a literal genius but I’m just about finished braising some fish if you’d like a meeting of the minds after this?’”

“Yeah? Well, what was I going to say to you? ‘Hey, I know you’re the most talented, in-demand chef in the world but can I take you to someone else’s restaurant?’”

“Uh? Yeah!”

“Oh.” You both look at each other and bust out laughing at the absurdity of this conversation. “I’m really not as smart as they say,” he says, closing his eyes in amusement.

You let the back of your hand fall on his bare chest, hitting him playfully.

“Well, I’m not exactly ‘in-demand’ anymore.”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” says Jeffrey with a smirk. Without warning he climbs on top of you. “I can be pretty demanding.”

[apricusnights]

Chapter Two: Hidden Agendas.

Location: Somewhere between Capitol Square and Evergreen Basin.

Three individuals stand outside of a somewhat bizarre looking yet empty building. One of them turns to the others and begins to speak.

"Some people think that the ordinary doesn't attract attention. See that's where everyone gets it wrong. Truth is, the more out of place something is, the more people will eventually opt to leave it alone."

"Take this building for example. It's in the absolute center of the city. Do you think people care? Of course they don't. Everyone knows it's in the center. Everyone has seen it. Many people have been inside of it. It's looks fascinating though doesn't it? A bit of a whimsical design meant to be a tourist trap."

"However, the more time passes, the less interesting it becomes. Eventually despite it's appearance and location..nobody cares."

"You can read all about the history of the building and find nothing that would make you give it a second thought. Unless of course, you know a bit of history that isn't exactly available to the public."

"If I told you a story, could you keep a secret?"

Location: Lower Docks.

Fisher: "We're entering a dead zone Aryl, switch off your aShine."

Jae: "Yes Ma'am. Permission to speak freely?"

Fisher: "Granted."

Jae: "What exactly are we here for Ma'am?"

Fisher: "One of the scrapyards here is where we moved some of the Olympus escape crafts to. I need to take a look at something that has been bothering me. You're here because I can trust you."

Jae: "What do you mean by that Ma'am?"

Fisher: "I was noticing something while exploring the Olympus. A lot of the tech Paradise was claiming to have invented seemed awfully familiar. I was rarely alone so I couldn't get a good look until the very end."

"I managed to access a few logs in what I can imagine was supposed to be an off limits area. Seemed like a sort of lab but I didn't have time to stick around and find out. Whoever was running the show had access to all communications happening on that ship."

"Everything anyone said was heard and possibly recorded. The only issue with this is that most of us were running secure channels. The Bureau changes things up so often and has so many levels of security it should have been impossible to listen in on us. Unless.."

Jae: "You think someone got them access?"

Fisher: "I was on the ship with Roland Marigold, and Kelly Maza. Roland and Maza have never been particularly skilled with technology. Still, I can't count them out. Amelia knows every signal, every backdoor, everything. Hadrian is a genius on every level."

Jae: "And you don't think I should be grouped in with everyone else?"

Fisher: "I trust you Aryl, I know better than to go against my intuition, my intuition says you're one of the only ones I can count on here."

Jae: "So there might be a traitor somewhere in the Bureau..."

Fisher: "All of the attacks came from people who seemed to be stationed in with specific groups. It isn't hard to think we have.."

Jae: "An impostor among us?"

Fisher: "You're spending too much time with Rowan...but yes. Alright here we are. Take a look around some of the escape crafts and tell me if you find anything out of place."

Jae: "How will I know what is out of place?"

Fisher: "Trust your intuition Aryl."

Location: Diamond District.

Due to some of Paradise Entertainment's clubs currently being remodeled people had been flocking to The Bacchanalia. At one time considered the most popular hidden club in the city. It was likely even more popular now and slightly less hidden. You still had to work to get in..or at least had to know the right people.

The music was blasting as a rather striking woman wearing little more than a bikini top, and a mini skirt stood behind the DJ station. Her clothing seemed to change colors, putting on a small light show as she took requests from some rowdy patrons.

Sitting at a table near one of the corners of the room were several members of the Apricus Navy, currently on leave. Among them were Viridian, Van, and Nerys. Apparently, Captain Larsen had been invited but turned it down.

Nerys strangely had been asked by the bartender why she was here since her shift wasn't until tomorrow. Viridian didn't seem to be very inclined to dance even with Nerys pestering both him and Van to let loose a little. She shrugged and made her way to the dance floor, taking to it rather easily due to her part time job as a dance coach.

Van: "I'm going to go get us our drinks."

Viridian: "Don't even think about trying to ditch us, I have a tracker planted somewhere on you."

Van: "Ha, good one."

Viridian: "I'm not joking. If you leave it'll upset Nerys, if she gets upset the Captain will find you and rearrange your bones."

Van: "So no sneaking out of the bathroom windows, got it. Be back with the drinks."

Somewhere in one of the private rooms a masked man and a masked woman stood looking out at the patrons from behind tinted windows.

Masked Man: "It's interesting isn't it? Looking out at these people and wondering which ones still have their masks on, which ones discarded their masks, and which have new ones."

"Everyone wears a mask you know. Even if they claim they don't. Some people here wear one every day to try and fit in, perhaps to hide their emotions, live their normal lives. They come here and discard the mask for a few hours so they can be themselves."

"On the other side are the people who are wearing their masks here. The ones trying desperately to have a good time with their friends. To pretend they are enjoying themselves when deep down this is the last place they want to be."

The masked woman pointed out at someone. The masked man nodded in response.

Masked Man: "That's the one. Have fun."

The woman took her mask off and handed it over before walking out of the room and blending into the crowd.

Meanwhile at a table on the other side of the room.

Bonnie: "How did you even get her here?"

Ajax: "We gambled, she lost."

Bonnie: "You're also wearing an unbuttoned shirt and a pair of criminally tight looking pants. I assume that helped."

Nava glared at Bonnie but her eyes betrayed her as she looked back at Ajax.

Nava reached over and took a sip of Ajax's drink before he had a chance to stop her.

Bonnie: "Welp, drunk Nava is approaching..."

Ajax: "If she keeps sipping my drink she'll be here before the next song ends.."

Over at the bar another small group was chatting.

Amias: "Where's Jasper?"

Mel: "Oh his way, don't worry."

Amias: "What about your brother?"

Mel: "Probably trying to sabotage Jasper so he doesn't show up."

Amias: "Seriously?"

Mel: "No, he's just busy is all.."

The music changed again as Lye made her way through the crowd on the dance floor. Her gold dress was scandalously short and seemed to sparkle when the light hit it just right. The rather impressive pair of heels she wore were no hindrance whatsoever as she danced.

Lye smirked as she made her way over to Amias, still moving to the music. She reached out for his hand..

Amias: "Uh I don't..I mean dancing...."

Mel: "Oh just pretend you're on stage. I've seen you dance plenty of times." Refusing to let the poor boy throw away his chance and softly shoving him to Lye who took his hand and pulled him away.

Lye and Amias passed by Van as he made his way to the bar. The siblings making eye contact briefly before going separate ways.

Van walked over and placed his order at the bar, leaning back against it and tapping his foot to the beat.

???: "Come here often?"

Van turned to see a woman with short brown hair and green eyes. She wore a little black dress with emphasis on "little". A pair of black thigh highs, and black heels served to show off her legs even more. She certainly did seem dressed for attention. Van though only had one response to the question.

Van: "Nah, can't get in the mood with this many people around." Terrible joke, you can do better than that...

???: "I've heard worse. Can you dance?"

Van: "Usually not willingly or sober."

???: "I'm sure we can fix at least one of those problems.." Reaching out and taking Van's hand, leading him back to the dance floor. Surprisingly he found himself unable to resist...

Back in the private room the masked man was watching events unfold.

He looked down as his aShine went off. He'd answer.

Masked Man: "Don't be jealous, it's only research. I won't ruin your fun. While I have you here, did you get what I asked for? Very good. I'll let you get back to company business. See you soon." Turning off the aShine and returning to observe the club patrons.

[spicezen]

The Aromatic Allure of Cloves: Spice, Health, and Holiday Delights

As the holiday season approaches, the mere thought of cloves evokes a sense of warmth and celebration. These tiny, aromatic spice buds play a pivotal role in creating the cozy, inviting atmosphere we associate with festive gatherings. Beyond their contribution to culinary delights, cloves harbor a treasure chest of unexpected health benefits. In this exploration, we'll embark on a journey through the world of cloves, tracing their origins, uncovering their hidden health secrets, and discovering their culinary and decorative versatility.

The Tropical Origins of Cloves

Cloves may evoke images of snowy landscapes, but their origins are far from frosty. They thrive in the lush, tropical haven of the Maluku Islands in Indonesia, a region aptly dubbed the "Spice Islands." Here, clove trees, adorned with evergreen leaves and aromatic buds, flourish in the heat. These trees, known for their bounty of spice, have found homes in hot climates worldwide, from the sun-soaked coasts of Sri Lanka to the exotic shores of Zanzibar.

The Hidden Health Benefits of Cloves

Within the unassuming clove lies a remarkable secret: eugenol. This aromatic oil is the source of clove's surprising health benefits. Eugenol, a natural painkiller, possesses the unique ability to intercept pain signals sent to the brain, providing gentle relief from inflammation and irritation. Dentistry has long celebrated eugenol for its anesthetic and antibacterial properties, often incorporating it into toothpaste to combat toothaches and soothe sore gums. Furthermore, eugenol showcases its anti-fungal prowess, demonstrating effectiveness in treating infections, including stubborn yeast infections when combined with prescription treatments.

Cooking with Cloves: Elevating Your Culinary Creations

Cloves, affectionately known as the "Christmas spice," hold a special place in holiday cuisine. Their history traces back to eras when spices were precious and reserved for special occasions. Today, cloves continue to enchant our palates, enhancing a variety of dishes and ingredients. From mincemeat pies to gingerbread cookies, from the complex flavors of garam masala to the fiery zest of Jamaican jerk chicken, cloves add depth and character to culinary creations. Emphasizing the importance of whole cloves in cooking, we delve into why these unopened buds are favored for retaining maximum flavor and aroma.

Clove's Shelf Life and Culinary Wisdom

Practical guidance for choosing between whole and ground cloves based on different culinary needs is essential. Additionally, we highlight the extended shelf life of whole cloves, which can last up to a year when stored in a cool, dry place. In contrast, ground cloves lose their potency after just a few months. We also offer a valuable tip for substituting ground cloves for whole in recipes, ensuring your dishes retain their flavorful charm.

Decorating with Cloves: Fragrance and Fortune

The allure of cloves extends beyond the kitchen, finding a place in festive decor. Enter the enchanting tradition of pomanders—artful creations crafted by studding clementines or oranges with whole cloves. These delightful ornaments not only adorn holiday tables but also infuse the air with a pleasant, comforting aroma. Discover the myriad uses for pomanders, from serving as table centerpieces to acting as natural air fresheners and tree decorations. Beyond their decorative charm, pomanders are seen as symbols of good luck, making them perfect companions for welcoming the new year.

Conclusion: Embracing the Spicy Essence of Cloves

In closing, cloves are more than just spice; they are the embodiment of festivity, health, and the comforts of home. As you embark on your culinary adventures or embark on the tradition of crafting pomanders, remember that cloves offer the spicy essence of celebration, good tidings, and the warmth of the holiday season. We encourage you to incorporate ground cloves into your life, infusing each day with the joy and nostalgia only this celebrated spice can provide. May your holidays be fragrant, your health vibrant, and your tables filled with the rich flavors of cloves. Cheers to the spicy essence of life!

[roughentumble]

im listening to podcast "hidden signal: evergreen" btw. for context

[audiodrama]

Hidden Signal: Evergreen

[training4theapocalypse]

Pushover (Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Degradation, Dub-con, Dom!Jeffrey, Sub!Reader, Breeding kink, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex M receiving, PIV

Summary: It's the apocalypse and you're stuck in an ecosphere with the last nine other people in the world - including Jeffrey Steinberg. If he could stop talking down to you for one second you could show him how useful you'd be to him.

A/N: Just be aware I wrote this in a day because I needed to get some feelings out my system. I've never written for an in-progress piece of work before so if Jeffrey turns out to be an even worse person than we already know I am sorry. This takes place roughly at the end of Ep4 of Evergreen.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @pretendfan, @countlambula, @chiaraanatra, @stainedpomegranatelips, @navs-bhat

Chapter Text:

“Hey, second fiddle! Get in here.”

“Don’t call her that.”

You open the control room door where Hannah and Jeffrey are staring at the screens. He leans back in his chair to look past Hannah, standing next to him, to get a good look at you when you enter. His dark curly hair is messed up like he’s been stressed out and running his hands through it.

“So, Finn’s assistant's assistant -”

“You know she’s not my assistant, Jeffrey. She’s Finn’s second assistant,” says Hannah scathingly.

He waves his hand dismissively. “Hannah says you actually might know something about this firewall?”

“Yes.”

“How does Finn Gorale’s second-favourite pet know how to get past the firewall?” He raises his eyebrow.

“I know how to code. Finn let me work on the firewall for my professional development.”

“Ugh.” He rolls his eyes. “He really had you all lapping up the big happy corporate family thing here, didn’t he?” Jeffrey rolls his chair back from the control panel. “Go on then, show me.”

“Jeffrey,” Hannah warns. “Don’t let him speak to you like that,” she adds to you. 

“I’d be happy to show Mr Steinberg anything he wants to see.”

The corners of his mouth turn up in a wry smile. He liked that. And he has dimples. You’re stuck in an underground ecosphere with the billionaire AI mogul who you’ve had a ridiculous crush on for a long time. Of course, he has dimples. As if he couldn’t be any more perfect.

Ever since he gave the commencement speech at your graduation ceremony a few years ago, Jeffrey Steinberg has been the subject of your fantasies. Obviously, you applied to work for Jeffrey’s company straight after graduation but without success. You suspected that Jeffrey was kind of a misogynist - his executive assistants were all exclusively men. Finn, for all his flaws, at least didn’t seem to care about your gender. 

“I’d better go help Axel and Aida with the harvester,” says Hannah, she pauses on her way out. “Don’t let him push you around.”

You keep your eyes on him as the sound of the door shutting and locking itself electronically beeps when Hannah exits the room.

You’re not sure what you wouldn’t let Jeffrey Steinberg do to you. You’d be more than happy for him to push you around, bend you over the console, fuck you any way he wanted to. Your so far one-sided feelings for him have only intensified while you’ve been stuck in this hellscape of an ecosphere with only nine other people for company. 

As an executive assistant, normally you can hold your own around egotistical men. Put them in their place with your sharp tongue. But something about Jeffrey’s disdain towards your very presence here makes you crumble. You’re desperate for him to notice you. Notice how useful you could be to him. Even if he were to decide your only usefulness amounted to you waiting in his bed for him on your knees every night.

You flush, embarrassed by your own lewd thoughts. It’s your ninth day down here. Not only are you socially starved but you’re also way more aroused than usual. Your girlfriends used to joke that you needed locking up during this time of the month when you were ovulating. Like a werewolf at full moon. You feel feral.

“Er, hello?” Jeffrey’s voice snaps you back to reality.

You clear your throat and teeter on your heels over to the console. He doesn’t deign to give you his chair, instead, he rolls it back to watch you lean over the keyboard.

“I just need to look up when Hal-9000 was last rebooted,” you say, clicking around, and searching for the date.

“You can say it’s name. It can’t hear us in here.”

“It can hear everything. It’s everywhere.”

“I disabled it in this room. Cortex, can you hear me? Cortex? There’s been an accident, Cortex, Finn’s assistant is choking to death in the control room. It’s the cute, innocent one, not the bitchy one, so you’d better hurry!” You glance at him over your shoulder to see him smirking. “See?”

You turn back to face the screen quickly before he can notice your smile. Cute. You open files on the screen, checking the reboot data.

You can feel his eyes on you. You’re not sure if he’s staring at what you’re doing on the screen or the way you’re bent over in front of him. Either way, you like it.

“You said when I first got here that we’d never met before. But that’s not true, is it? I know you from somewhere.”

“Not likely. But you gave the commencement speech at my graduation a few years ago.”

“You graduated from MIT?”

“What, like it’s hard?” You discreetly pick up the pace of your searching, keen to show off how quickly you can crack the firewall issue.

“MIT… I’ve got it.” He snaps his fingers and points at you like he’s just realised something. “You applied for a job with me. Does Finn know he was second choice? Or is that why he made you his second choice?” His sudden revelation isn't convincing. You have a feeling he's been sitting on this information for a while.

“Finn might be a shitty boss but unlike you he actually hires women.”

“Woah, woah, woah - who says I don’t hire women?”

“Your last five assistants were all men. None of them have lasted as long as I have with Finn, by the way.”

“Look, I’m not Finn. I can’t spend my day around a fuckable assistant without doing something about it. That means all the applications from the pretty ones go straight in the bin, no matter if they went to MIT.”

“That’s a textbook example of misogyny.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it? Call the EEOC? It’s not like they exist anymore.”

You say nothing. You hate that he didn’t hire you. But at least you know it’s because he thought you were pretty - so that’s something, right? And could you honestly say you wouldn’t have tried to fuck him at the first opportunity, even if he was your boss? Maybe he was on to something.

“Cortex hasn’t been rebooted since the day before doomsday,” you say, finally finding the data.

He brings his chair forward to look at the screen. You shift uncomfortably on your feet in your high heels. 

“Sit here,” he says, nudging the back of your knee with his. You pretend to hesitate, only so he can’t tell how eager you are. You sit down on his lap. “Good girl. See, this is the type of shit I’d be pulling if you were my assistant. Anyway…” He reaches around you to grab the mouse and is quiet for a moment while he takes in the information. His other hand rests on your upper thigh.

“You said Finn was a shitty boss. But are you still loyal to him?”

He tilts his head, scanning your face for any indication of dishonesty. You meet his gaze, glad for an excuse to look into his green eyes.

“I’ll be as loyal or disloyal as you want me to be.”

“Very good answer.” He says, his fingertips on his free hand brushing the inside of your leg. “As it happens, that’s exactly what I want. Out there, I want you to pretend to be loyal to Finn. But in here, I want you to help me locate Finn’s private servers.”

You bite your lip before throwing caution to the wind. “I have conditions.”

“Let’s hear them, then.”

“Out there I want you to show me some respect. No more talking down to me in front of the others.”

“Alright, that’s fair en-”

“But inside here -” you feel butterflies in your stomach. “- I want you to disrespect me in every way you know how. And I want you to do it now. As a show of good faith.”

Jeffrey exhales deeply and you feel something hard pressing against your hip. 

“God, you would have been a fucking terrible assistant” He shakes his head. 

Oh shit.

“I never would have gotten anything done,” he says, looking at you with an unmistakeable glint in his eye. From the sideways position you’re sitting on his lap, he draws your leg up onto the armrest, spreading your legs apart and forcing your minidress to roll up, exposing your underwear.

Oh shit.

He runs the back of his hand across your pussy through the fabric before suddenly yanking your underwear to the side so he can draw his fingers along your slit, finding the swollen bundle of nerves at the top. 

“Fuck,” you whisper and turn your head, bringing your lips close to his - almost touching. He smells good. Expensive.

“So wet already.” He rolls his wet fingertips around your clit. “What a wet, fucking desperate little slut you are.”

“I’ve been like this every day here,” you confess.

“So I should have trusted my instincts and let myself into your room after those drinks on the first night?” Jeffrey keeps circling your clit, making you squirm in his lap.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“What would I have found, I wonder? You fucking yourself like this?” He slides a finger inside you. 

You part your lips panting at the intrusion, feeling his finger curl up inside you. He sucks on your neck. Fuck - there’s going to be a bruise there tomorrow. His mark on you for everyone to see.

“No - wait! The others will notice if I have a hickey.”

“So?”

“I - I want them to respect me out there.”

His finger moves in and out of you and you feel you pelvic muscles tighten under the pressure. You might want the others to respect you but he knows you want nothing of the sort from him in here. And he’s taking your request seriously.

“So put some fucking makeup on it to cover it up. I see you wearing it out there - the world has ended and you’re the only one still bothering with makeup. I wonder why?”

He knows why.

“Fuck, and this tight little dress. Who’s that for?”

He knows who it’s for.

“And those ridiculous shoes. I mean, for God’s sake we’re living in a ecosphere.”

He slips another digit inside you, and you welcome it gratefully as he keeps crooking and stroking his fingertips against you g-spot. Every movement he makes inside your soaking wet cunt pulls a helpless little moan from you.

“Fuck, Jeffrey, I -, I -” Pleasure ignites up low in your abdomen. The increasingly wet sound of his fingers fucking you, giving away just how turned on you are, threatens to push you over the edge.

“You’re not seriously about to cum already, are you? Fuck, you really are a desperate little whore.”

“I am,” you choke. “Fuck, and I’ll do any- anything you want.”

You’re tumbling headfirst into your high, the beautiful way his fingers are pressing into you is too much. He feels your pussy clench around him and starts drilling into you with unprecedented speed. From the way he holds you you can’t move, can’t do anything except just accept your impending climax.

“You’re damn right you will. Come on, be a good little assistant and cum for me. Or is that too big a task for you?”

It’s not. 

You’re so pent up you wail - the noise you make for him sounds like something from a shitty porno. Everything seizes up around his fingers, tight, hot and burning - and then it releases like a spring. Jeffrey keeps finger fucking you through your orgasm, draining every last ounce of bliss from your body until you shudder into a quivering mess on his lap.

“That was a decent start. You sound fucking great when you do that by the way. Do it louder next time.”

You nod, blinking stupidly at him.

“Right, enough with the Bambi eyes and stand up. I need a good look at you.”

Legs trembling, you get off his lap with difficulty and smooth out the front of your dress. He sits up straight in his chair and makes a circle motion with his finger, instructing you to turn around. You feel your cheeks burning as you turn on the spot slowly so he can he observe you.

“Don’t get shy on me now. Do it again. But this time I want to see all of you.” He leans back in his chair. “Take everything off.”

Steping out of your heels, you feel relief as your feet meet the the cool tile floor. You grab the hem on your dress and lift it up over your head before throwing it aside. You pause for a second, standing in your lingerie.

He locks eyes with you. “Everything.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m more interested in seeing what I asked for. Maybe you’re used to Finn letting his assistants take liberties but I expect you to do as you’re told.”

You unhook your bra and slip off your underwear, tossing them at his feet. He raises an eyebrow with impatient expectancy and you remember to turn again.

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what would happen if Nico’s work in the DNA bank couldn’t proceed.” He says, and you hear his desk chair roll towards you and he grabs your hips from behind. “And I’ve decided you’d make the best breeding stock. I mean, God, these hips.”

He spins you back around to face him and you bite your lip.

“Purely scientific of course. And obviously, I’d be the one to do it. We’d need to calculate when you’re at your most fertile and I’d cum inside you say… three times a day.”

“And what use would you have for me the rest of the month? Just help you with the servers?”

“I’m glad you asked… Kneel.”

You sink to the hard tile floor and watch him as he undoes his belt buckle. 

“Do you know what to do? Or do I have to give you detailed instructions for every simple thing?”

“I know what to do.”

You crawl towards him and slide your hands up his thighs. They’re more muscular than you would have guessed under his expensive, tailored suit. Unzipping his pants, you pull his cock out. You knew he had big dick energy but at the back of your mind you wondered if he was over compensating.

He’s not.

He’s rock hard. And thick. As you run your hand up his cock, a single bead of precum leaks from the top making your mouth water.

You look up at him and present your tongue before slowly dragging it along the underside of his cock. The critical look he’s giving you falters when you flutter your tongue across his head, tasting the salty liquid.

Jeffrey threads his fingers through your hair, getting it out of your face as you swallow as much of him as you can, drooling all over his length.

“Oh fuck, look at how sloppy you are,” he says with a sharp inhale when he feels the head of his cock touching the back of your throat. You suck and swirl your tongue around him and you pull back up, meeting his eyes again. He’s looking down at you with his lips parted in awe of the way you’re working him.

“Did Finn ever get you to do this?”

You shake your head, your mouth still full. Never.

“He was a fucking idiot. You’re going to be doing this every day from now on.”

God, the way he bosses you around makes you moan around him as you set a pace, sucking up and down. You accidentally take it too deep and gag a little.

“Don’t stop. Come on, yes, fucking choke on it.”

Desperate to prove you can, you keep going, gagging and panting as your head bobs up and down, every so often touching the base with your lips, burying your face in the neat smattering of hair.

“Yeah, you like this, don’t you? Gagging on my cock like this? You submissive little slut.”

You whine, choking on his cock as far as you can take it. You look up at him again with tears in your eyes.

“Right, breathe. Get some air,” he says, with a surprisingly gentle tug of your hair. You pull up, gasping and he grips his cock with his hand and starts pumping his fist up and down. He stands up and you sit back on your knees, looking at him towering above you.

“Open your mouth, I’m going to cum all over that pretty litte face.”

“I’m ovulating.”

He stops tugging at his cock. “What?”

“It means I’m fertile right now.”

“I know what it means. God, you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for. Get up.” He extends a hand to help you to your feet. Your knees ache from kneeling on the floor. Jeffrey walks over to the console and presses a few buttons. 

“Bend over,” he says, gesturing to the console. You look at it apprenehsively.

“What if I press something?”

“You just watched me lock it. Are you sure you went to MIT?”

You’re not thinking straight. You lean over the console in front of him and you hear him moving behind you. You’re not sure what he’s doing until you feel two hands on your hips and a soft, warm heat gliding between your folds. His tongue slides over your pussy, and obscenely, you feel it pushing at your entrance. 

Jeffrey pulls back and delves his fingers inside you so he can gather your slick. He stands up, coating his cock with your your juices and presses his head against your aching pussy. You inhale deeply as he guides himself slowly into you, stretching you even more than his fingers did.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out, filling you up completely. You clench around his cock deep inside you, every nerve ending below your waist lights up brighter than the console underneath you.

He starts thrusting into you, setting an urgent pace that you’re barely ready for. You let out a long, low whimper, made uneven by each thrust of his hips into the flesh of your ass.

“Fuck, Jeffrey…” Is all you can manage to moan as you feel the familiar tension building in your pelvis, squeezing around him as he mercilessly buries himself into you.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long,” he says through gritted teeth. His hands slide around under your body and he grabs your tits, anchoring himself even deeper into you.

“It’s - it’s only been nine days,” you pant over the wet sound of his flesh smacking yours.

“You really think I binned your job application?” He brings one of his strong arms to wrap around your stomach and uses the other to find your neck and pull you close to his chest, still ramming his hips against your ass. “I agonised over it for weeks - fuck - I almost brought you in for an interview just so I could fuck you over my desk. Hire you to be my little fucktoy.”

He sloppily licks your neck and jaw and you turn your head to kiss him. Your tongues barely touching from this angle. He pulls out of you with a frustrated groan and turns you round to lift you onto the console, your bare backside pressing on a dozen different buttons.

Jeffrey pulls off his own shirt and you can barely contain the mewl that escapes your lips when you see his toned chest. You hardly have time to appreciate it before he sheathes himself into you again making you arch your back in pleasure.

He kisses you once - deeply, needily - then puts all of his weight on you and fucks you - hard. 

“Taking my cock like such a good little slut. I knew you’d be like this.”

Everything pulls up inside you, tight and molten hot. You sob and clutch his muscular shoulders, wrapping your legs around his little waist as he keeps pounding into you. It’s exactly what you always dreamed it would be. Hot, rough, degrading.

“Jeffrey, fuck, I’m - fuck - so close.”

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, pushing his face into the crook of your neck, ramping up the pace of his hips fucking into your open legs - you barely notice the console digging into your back, every plastic button leaving indents on your soft skin. You squeal, trying to grapple with the orgasm flashing brightly deep in your abdomen. “Such pretty noises.”

Electricity floods your body, sparking up in your brain like an overloaded circuit board. 

“Are you going to cum for me? Come on.”

You cry like a woman possessed as your cunt twitches and releases all over him, your orgasm ripping through your body as he fucks you remorselessly through it.

“God, you get so fucking tight when you do that,” he shudders, feeling your pussy contract involuntatrily around him.

“Cum inside me - please,” you whisper, your instincts telling you that this is what will set off his own relief. “Please, Mr Steinberg.” Your sweet murmur in his ear makes him burst. His groan jumps up a pitch as his teeth find the juncture of your neck and he bites down, cumming hard inside you. With a last few shuddering jerks of his hips, he comes to a stop.

He lies there on to of you, his heart hammering in his chest as he heaves breathlessly, the last spurt of cum coating your insides. The numbness fades and you realise just how uncomfortable this is, with him on top of you on the hard surface.

“Shit, the console was a bad idea,” he sighs eventually, pulling out of you carefully and cupping your leaking pussy before his cum can spill out over the unit. 

He reaches over your head and grabs some tissues from the box on top of the desk and does what he can to mop up the mess you’ve both made. You slide off of the surface, holding onto his shoulders for balance.

Jeffrey drags the abandoned desk chair over and sits down, pulling you onto his lap again. His curly hair is even messier than when you first came into the room. He lifts his head up to kiss you gently.

“You’re not really fertile right now, are you?”

“Unfortunately. I’ll get a morning after pill from David though - discreetly.” 

“Good. There’s no way we’re actually going to repopulate this hell hole.”

“We could have a lot of fun trying though.”

He smirks and you see those dimples again. God, those dimples.

“Right, you’d better get back out there before anyone realises how long you’ve been missing.”

“They have no idea how long breaking through a firewall takes. They probably think we’re in here mashing buttons like those hackers on TV.”

“Well, the buttons are certainly mashed,” he says, looking over your shoulder at the sticky surface.

You brush his curly hair from his face. “Do you… would you want to do this again? Same time, same place tomorrow?”

“Absoltely not. What a mess. We’re lucky the whole place didn’t go into critical failure. Come to my quarters. Tonight.”

“I’m busy tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ve got several hours scheduled in for contemplating my existence as one of the last human beings on the planet.”

“Don’t you manage diaries for a living? I’m sure you of all people could find a way to squeeze me in.” He looks at you expectantly.

“Maybe...” You get up and step into your underwear. “Make it my room. And bring a strong drink.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, handing you your dress and watching you pull it over your head as he buckles his belt again. You put on your heels and walk over to the keypad on the door. You open it.

“Will that be all, Mr Steinberg?” You ask.

“Yes, thank you.” You step out the door. “Wait.” You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “You would have been a fucking great assistant, by the way.”

“I think you were right the first time. We’d never have gotten anything done.”

Chapter 2: Nice Guy

[bippot]

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Feel free to explore my Freddie Stroma associated stories. Don’t hesitate to leave feedback or drop a request if you'd like, and if you'd rather to read all these on AO3 - click here.

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

Current Peacemaker taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt, @adriansboyfriend

1) Savage ~ Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesn’t he? She’s weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life together, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.

Click here for the story masterlist (17/45)

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

2) Cowboy & Piggy ~ No, Adrian had not been crushing on his colleague. That's just, like, not true in the slightest. It's not as if the moment she became available, he said something he could never take back.

3) Calendar Girl ~ When his buddy goes missing, Adrian spends all of his time and energy trying to get her back to him. Because they're friends, obviously.

4) Hercules and Megara ~ Childhood friends have a habit of drifting apart. Usually, it's a natural thing. Usually, there's a slow detachment. Adrian never wanted to detach from his best friend. But he thought he had to.

Chapter 1: For Now

Chapter 2: Fatal Flaw

Chapter 3: The One That Got Away

Chapter 4: Earning A Soul Back

5) Squirtle Pyjamas - She knows how to calm Adrian down. And wears his clothes. And teases him relentlessly. And knows exactly what to do to rile him up. And knows his deepest secret. But, no, nothing can happen between them. He must resist the temptation to do something about it.

A Kid? ~ (Sequel to Squirtle Pajamas) In preparation for Allison's wedding, Adrian becomes the babysitter of her kid for a day and his girlfriend realises how good at the whole thing he is. The idea of marriage and kids suddenly seeps into Adrian's brain and he can't seem to shake them away.

6) Spot Over By The Fire Station ~ After his manager forces him to go to the emergency room for a concussion, Adrian meets an old friend and she looks worse for wear. But he can help with that.

7) Hopelessly Devoted ~ Well, they broke up a while ago and Adrian still isn't over it. Chris takes him on a night out and they get trashed. Adrian never imagined that he'd get up in front of people and serenade his ex, but he did. Now he has to face the consequences.

8) My Favourite Girl ~ Telekinetic powers can be beneficial sometimes. Other times? Yeah, not so much. After a mission gone wrong, it might be that her gifts are godsent. Adrian, however, knows she is godsent, especially with boobs like that.

9) Sweltering ~ It's way too hot in Evergreen for Adrian to even hide his attraction to Y/N. He tries. And fails miserably. Especially when the guy who delivers her hot tub is so swoon-worthy.

10) Wednesdays ~ While Peacemaker was in prison, Vigilante made another friend and she had a much lovelier voice than Chris did. After a takedown, Adrian can't quite get his thoughts off her.

11) What You Deserve ~ Vigilante has had a long night and just wants to see his favourite girl then go to sleep. Is that too much to ask for?

12) Big Strong Guy ~ No. Adrian is fine with scary movies. He's fine, okay? That's impossible, he doesn't have goosebumps. You're seeing things. Must be, because a big strong guy who doesn't get scared of shit like that.

13) Lucky Number 14 ~ A work outing let's some things come to light. Yet, Adrian isn't there to hear it.

14) Last In Line ~ Getting kidnapped is becoming more of a regular thing for Adrian. Yet, he knows this one. And she definitely knows him.

15) The Things You Do For Pussy ~ Living together means that Adrian's secret identity isn't really a secret to her. Yet, he doesn't know that so she loves to make thirsty comments about Vigilante whenever she can. It's not as if Adrian feels something more than friendship for his roommate, right?

16) Waller's Way ~ When the new government-issued 11th Street Kid arrives, the team soon finds out why Waller picked her. They don't really know how Adrian pissed off their boss so much, but he sure isn't happy with their new colleague.

Click here for the story masterlist

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

17) Clingy ~ The Vigilante mobile breaks down, and Adrian needs a hand, transport-wise and socially, it seems. Once his coworker gives him a hand, it sets him off, and there is no going back to the platonic relationship they had before. A relationship that needs to have clear boundaries because Adrian is known to get far too excited to interact with her at any chance he gets.

18) Beautiful Things ~ Since he's now a representative of A.R.G.U.S. and, therefore, the government, Vigilante no longer has to work his shity busboy job. Yet, that does leave his schedule wide open for the rest of the day and he soon finds himself frequenting a quaint coffee shop, not only because the drinks there are good, but he's grown fond of the woman working there who he happened to save the night before. She's grown fond of him too - both versions of him - but will she figure out that she won't have to pick between them? Or will Adrian manage to keep his cool and hide his secret?

19) The Distraction ~ Every now and then, Peacemaker has a solo mission. Whenever these happen, Vigilante has to be distracted so he doesn't make the solo into a duo. The only person that is capable of that is the girl that Adrian hates... no, that can't be right. He doesn't hate her, not really. Quite the opposite, actually.

20) The Monarch Hotel ~ How many times does Vigilante need to get injured before Harcourt finally gives in and hires a medic to help out with the squad's injuries? Far too many times, that's how many.

When it's uncovered that a fancy hotel is linked to, not only what's left of the legion of butterflies, but also a string of weird deaths and missing persons reports, the only two for the job are lovesick Adrian and the newbie.

Will they both make it out of paradise alive?

Chapter 1: Butterfly Boobs

Chapter 2: BG3

Chapter 3: No More Velvet

Chapter 4: Posh Person Place

Chapter 5: Alien Perverts

Chapter 6: Milkweed

Chapter 7: The Bee's Knees

Chapter 8: Raw

Chapter 9: Afterglow

Chapter 10: Farmville

Chapter 11: Puppeteering

Chapter 12: Feeling In My Gut

21) Peacemaker Jr ~ Peacemaker scrubbed all mention of his kid from his file. But when the butterflies find out about her, he must admit to his team that he needs their skills to find her. Then, Chris really needs Adrian's help to keep her safe, but he's concerned that his buddy is going to get far too familiar with his daughter. And maybe those fears are warranted.

22) On The Road ~ Peacemaker's mother fled with her unborn child when Chris was a teenager. He'd always wanted to find his family again, but he was too slow. After annoying Waller, he must send his friends out to help save his family, and Adrian finds out that he is more than willing to throw himself into danger to ensure that Peace's sister is unharmed.

23) Slumber Party ~ Had Vigilante intended to find the missing Mayor's daughter? No, but he wasn't going to admit that. He'd completed the 11th Street Kids' mission entirely by himself and found himself caring for the kidnapped girl.

24) Damsel ~ Vigilante notices a girl and her not-so-nice boyfriend arguing, and just as the hero is about to reprimand the bad boyfriend, she does something unexpected. When she finds him a week later, they come to learn that they mesh together quite well. Will that chemistry remain when she knows who's under the visor?

25) Bacon and Bloodshed ~ When Vigilante came across a crying girl covered in blood, he didn't expect to have breakfast with her the next.

1) Joyride ~ There are three things Jakes loves to do at work. None of which are work. One: eating. Two: flirting with his girlfriend. Three: annoying Kevin. At first, he only thought he'd only get to do two of those three options.

2) Part Of The Crew ~ Kevin's niece shakes up Jake's little peanut head, in the best way possible. For the first time in his life, he's nervous to even flirt with a girl cause, like, what if he fucks up? That would suck.

Chapter 1:  Shoelaces

Chapter 2: Photo Day

Chapter 3: Best Till Last

Chapter 4: Keys To A Candy Store

Chapter 5: Three Ground Rules

Chapter 6: Sushi And Transformers

Chapter 7: Kevin Jr

Chapter 8: Heavy Disguise

Chapter 9: A Whole New World

Chapter 10: Hangover :(

Chapter 11: Just Friends

Chapter 12: Daytona

Chapter 13: For Her

Chapter 14: Pigeons of Peace

Chapter 15: Bottle of White

Chapter 16: Compatible Armpits

Chapter 17: Ferret Mones

Chapter 18: Finale

3) 95 ~ A wardrobe mix up causes Jake's secret relationship come to light. Then when they happen to match one part of their outfit one day, a formal complaint is filed against them.

4) Subconsciously ~ Jake has never watched the Fast and Furious films, so why can he quote them?

5) On the Same Paige ~ Jake is preppy and charismatic and dumb and talk, which is the complete opposite of Beth's niece. Why do they work so well together then?

1) A Dog On A Leash ~ Thanks to his attempt at total domination over the population of Evergreen spectacularly failed, Jeffrey was forced to be confined in his room. The only interaction he gets is annoying David whenever he brings his meals in. That is until another face appears. A familiar face. A face of someone he presumed had perished in the apocalypse.

[introvertedelf]

The Russian in Uniform

Dmitri Antonov (Enzo) x Reader

Warning(s): Violence, graphic smut (degrading, slight breeding kink, praise), language

Word Count: 1.5k

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: The Great Escape

YOUR POV

The next day, Dmitri told you that you would be leaving that night. That you both would. He was assigned to be your main persona guard, which worked out perfectly for the situation.

He had called a ‘friend’ of his, as he said, to stage a mock invasion of the camp. Only then would everyone be distracted, leaving you and Dmitri an out.

He arrived to your cell like normal, perfectly inconspicuous as he unlocked the cold steel bars.

“Hello, my little American,” he pulled out his food rations, handing them to you. “Eat, you will need your strength now more than ever.”

You paused, looking at him in the eye with nothing but appreciation. “Dmitri…thank you. Thank you…”

He strode towards you even closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t know what it is about you, but the moment I saw you I knew I had to save you.”

You felt your heart flutter as you ate.

***Two hours later***

“Shag!” The guards yelled, poking you in the side with the butt of their guns.

Dmitri was to your left, and you caught his glance a few times as you and the other prisoners were being transported.

You knew it was time when he gave you the signal. A bomb went off, followed by rounds of more and more explosives. The other guards and prisoners froze, immediately taking action and running for their lives at the supposed ‘invasion’ that Dmitri’s evidential friend had staged.

“Hold onto me, and don’t look back!” He ordered, grabbing your hand in his as you began to both sprint for the tree line. You were never a fast runner, but in that moment, you were.

The cold wind whipped your frosted hair into your eyes, the cold sinking through your clothing. The only warmth to be found was Dmitri’s hand holding onto yours and the hot, urgent feeling of anticipated freedom.

Finally, you reached the tree line of tall evergreens, looking down to see a small Russian town that seemed bare of all life.

Dmitri looked at you, smiling as he pulled you into his arms. “The hardest part is over, krasotka. But, do not let your guard down yet,” he warned, leading you down to a small cabin close to more trees. You figured that would make for an easy escape if it came down to that.

He opened the door for you, the key hidden under the old mat on the floor. Inside, it was quaint but barren. Basic things like a fireplace, blankets, pots on a stove, and pieces of wood furniture.

Dmitri rubbed his hands together, blowing hot air from his mouth into them. “It’s too risky to make a fire, so we’ll have to rely on body heat from each other…” he drifted off, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“I understand,” you stated, shrugging off your jacket and pulling down your pants to get the wet clothes off.

Dmitri turned around gentlemanly, doing the same. Though you shouldn’t have, your eyes lingered to him. His well sculpted back and shoulders, his strong legs, his perfect ass…fuck…what was wrong with you? It wasn’t like you had time to take care of the heat in your loins in the cell with guards passing by.

“I can feel your eyes on me, printsessa. It’s really not fair,” he turned around, smirking to see you in your birthday suit, though he kept his eyes on yours. He went to grab the thick blanket off of the old sofa, throwing it around himself as he walked to you. You tried to ignore the rather large bulge in his boxers as he came over.

“Come close to me so I can wrap this around us both,” he motioned with his arm. You were too damn cold to be shy, so you practically ran into his arms. His warm skin felt like heaven against yours the moment you felt it. Your cheek was pressed against his soft chest as he put the blanket around you both, sitting you down on the sofa.

You sighed, preparing to speak. “What’s the plan after this?”

He turned to look at you, quirking an eyebrow. “We fly to your homeland.”

“What? How? We can’t exactly board America Airlines as fugitives,” you say sarcastically.

Dmitri chuckles, putting an arm around you and pulling you in deeper. “I know a guy,” he smirks.

You laugh with him, stopping when you accidentally push your thigh against his hard on. He grunts, sucking in a tense breath through his nose.

“Sorry…” you mutter, not ever actually moving your thigh off of his dick.

Dmitri looks you up and down, as if he was assessing you. He closes his eyes, clenching his jaw as he shakes his head. “Do you know how mad you drive me, krasotka? Hmm?” He angles his hips up, driving his bulge into your fleshy thigh further.

“That mad…” you move your thigh down, then back up, then down again. Dmitri grips your chin in his fingers, moving close to your mouth.

“I can smell your fucking cunt,” he moves a hand down in between your thighs, pressing two fingers against your clit, making you jump. He moves them down to your entrance, pushing them inside of you. “I can feel how wet you are. How badly your body is aching for me to fuck you. Tell me, does your body betray you, American? Or do you truly want my cock inside of you?”

You bite your lip so hard it aches, and you answer by pressing your lips against his. It was hungry and full of need—the way you kissed him. It was as if you were devouring each other, but that was ridiculous. Dmitri Antonov was bigger, stronger, and much more dominating than you. That’s why he dominated your mouth and your cunt in a matter of seconds.

“My comrades say sex is one of the quickest ways to warm up in the cold. Should we put that to the rest?” He begins to finger you harder, and you could feel his rough, calloused digits rubbing against that spot inside of you that made you want to surrender body and mind. You began to arch your back, biting Dmitri’s shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to your climax.

“Are you going to cum for me, printsessa? Are you going to show me how much of a slut you can be for your Russian prison guard?” He grabs your throat, pushing his fingers as deep inside of you as they’d go. “Words, babygirl,” he commands.

That tinge of dominance and beastly demeanor brought you to the edge, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. “Yes! Fuckkkk—Dmitri! Please—please I need you inside of me…fuck me please!”

He throws his head back, chuckling as he takes his soaked fingers out of you, popping his two digits in his mouth, moaning at your taste. “You taste heavenly, why don’t you let my dick have a taste, too?” He slides his boxers down, leaving his hard cock and round, cum filled balls sticking out.

The Russian had a cock like a Greek god—all veins, perfect girth, and length that could only be reached by such a member.

He began to rub the tip that was leaking salty pre cum up and down your pussy, collecting the sticky cream from your orgasm on the bulbous tip before he pushed it inside of you. He sucks on the sensitive spot on your neck as he does this, his hips sputtering already as your pussy flutters around him.

“Fuck—fuck baby, that’s so good. So fucking good,” he grunts deeply, his voice sounding even more sexy than usual. “I know, krasotka, I know it’s a lot to take. But you’re doing so well,” without warning, he grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder.

He pulls all the way out, only the tip left inside of you before he thrusts in roughly. “Look at you creaming on my cock already—good girl,” he moans and groans as his balls slap against the soft flesh of your ass, filling the room with the sound of him practically breeding you.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he admits, his thumb coming down to rub your clit in quick little circles, before he does long, deep strokes inside of you. “Come on, give me another one, printsessa,” he urges.

With a few more strokes of his thumb on your clit and the steady pounding on your g-spot, you break for him again. Your orgasm crashes down with a scream, Dmitri biting his lip as he feels you clench down on him. He pulls out immediately, shooting his cum all over your lower stomach.

The man didn’t cum in short amounts, you see. His semen shot in thick, long ropes of fertile seed, glistening on your skin in the sunset’s light.

He grabs a spare rag that was on the side table, wiping off his essence and throwing it to the side as he pulls you on top of him and lays down.

From sheer exhaustion and long awaited warmth, your eyelids began to get heavy. Those two factors paired with Dmitri now tracing soft shapes onto your back sent you off into a restful slumber. Somewhere in reality, you head him say “rest now, my beautiful little American.”