#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

[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

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In essence, magazine websites offer a myriad of unique features and opportunities for enhancing SEO performance. By strategically harnessing these features, businesses can unlock the full potential of magazine websites as powerful tools for driving organic traffic, increasing online visibility, and ultimately achieving digital marketing success. Embracing magazine websites as integral components of SEO strategies is key to staying ahead of the curve in today's competitive online landscape.

[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.

[starseedfxofficial]

Master On Balance Volume on the 1-Minute Chart: Insider Tips The Ninja's Guide to Mastering On Balance Volume on the 1-Minute Timeframe Imagine this: You're at a party, and someone casually mentions their love for Forex trading. You reply, "Oh, I'm more of a 1-minute timeframe, On Balance Volume kind of person." The crowd gasps in awe. You've just established yourself as a mysterious, elite trader. Let's turn that dream into reality with actionable insights and a dash of humor. The Hidden Superpower of On Balance Volume (OBV) OBV isn’t just a technical indicator; it’s like the unsung hero of your trading arsenal. While everyone else is chasing RSI or MACD, OBV quietly shows you where the real action is happening. Think of it as the friend who knows all the good restaurants before they go viral. OBV tracks the cumulative volume flowing in and out of an asset. It rises when the price closes higher and falls when the price closes lower. The magic lies in its ability to reveal momentum shifts before they appear in price action. In a fast-paced environment like the 1-minute timeframe, this is pure gold. Why Most Traders Miss the OBV Edge on 1-Minute Charts Using OBV on the 1-minute timeframe is like spotting a rare gem in a sea of rocks. Most traders dismiss it, thinking it’s too noisy or irrelevant. But here’s the truth: If you know how to decode OBV signals, you can catch moves before the market even blinks. Common Misconceptions: - "OBV only works on higher timeframes." (False! It’s all about how you interpret it.) - "Volume doesn’t matter in Forex." (Wrong again. Tick volume is a surprisingly accurate proxy for real volume.) - "It’s too complicated." (Only if you let it be. Stick around, and I’ll simplify it.) How to Dominate the 1-Minute Chart with OBV Here’s where the rubber meets the road. Follow these ninja tactics to maximize OBV’s potential on the 1-minute timeframe. 1. Spot Divergences Like a Pro Divergences between OBV and price action are your secret weapon. If OBV is rising but price isn’t, smart money might be loading up. Conversely, if OBV is falling while price climbs, prepare for a reversal. Pro Tip: Pair OBV divergences with candlestick patterns like pin bars or engulfing candles for added confirmation. It’s like pairing fine wine with gourmet cheese—unbeatable. 2. Use Breakouts to Your Advantage OBV trends break out before price does. When OBV breaks a key level, it often signals an impending price breakout. Set alerts for these moments and act swiftly. Example: Say EUR/USD is consolidating. OBV breaks upward from a flat range. Chances are, the price will soon follow suit. 3. Combine OBV with Other Indicators While OBV is powerful, it’s not a lone wolf. Combine it with moving averages or Bollinger Bands for added context. For instance, an OBV breakout combined with a moving average crossover? That’s a green light to trade. Real-Life Example: Turning Noise into Profit Let’s say you’re trading GBP/USD on the 1-minute chart. OBV starts forming higher highs while the price action lags behind. You enter a long position, and within minutes, the price rockets upward. That’s the OBV advantage in action. Now imagine the opposite scenario: OBV diverges lower while the price inches up. You short the pair, and voilà! Another successful trade. Myth-Busting OBV Secrets Let’s clear up a few myths: - Myth: "OBV is only for stocks." Truth: OBV shines in Forex, especially with tick volume. - Myth: "It doesn’t work on low timeframes." Truth: It works brilliantly if you focus on patterns and momentum shifts. - Myth: "It’s outdated." Truth: It’s evergreen when used correctly. Exclusive Tactics to Level Up Your Game Join the OBV Underground Want to master OBV like a pro? Check out these resources: - Forex News & Analysis: Stay ahead with the latest trends. - Free Forex Courses: Learn insider strategies. - Trading Tools: Automate your edge. Practice Makes Perfect Backtest OBV strategies on historical data. Practice on a demo account until you’re confident. Wrap-Up: Your Next Steps Using OBV on the 1-minute timeframe might feel like learning to juggle flaming swords at first, but it’s a skill worth mastering. Start small, refine your strategies, and soon you’ll be the one dropping jaws at trading parties. If you’re ready to elevate your trading game, explore more at StarseedFX. Have questions or want to share your OBV triumphs? Drop them in the comments below! —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[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

[starseedfxofficial]

Unlocking the Secret Sauce: Reinforcement Learning Models and Mean Reversion in Forex Trading The financial markets are like a chaotic party where everyone has different opinions on how the music should be played. And you, dear trader, are the DJ trying to keep the beats flowing just right. Welcome to the world of Forex, where things get excitingly complex when we throw in reinforcement learning models and the evergreen concept of mean reversion. And trust me, it’s way more fascinating than accidentally hitting "sell" instead of "buy," only to see your trading career temporarily resemble a bad sitcom plot twist. Why Mean Reversion is Like Your Lazy Cat (And How It Works in Forex) Let’s kick things off with mean reversion—that gentle nudge the market gives when a price deviates too far from its “average comfort zone.” Imagine your cat, Fluffy. Every time Fluffy wanders too far into unfamiliar territory, she’ll almost always come back to her cozy bed (preferably with a heat mat underneath). That’s exactly how mean reversion works—an asset's price might stretch too far from its average, but inevitably it tends to come back, seeking that comfort zone. This predictable behavior can be a goldmine for Forex traders, but most overlook its real magic because, let’s face it, we’re too distracted chasing shiny new trends. However, the beauty lies not just in spotting these deviations, but also in how you capitalize on them—and this is where reinforcement learning models enter the picture. Reinforcement Learning: Teaching a Dog New Tricks (Except It’s a Super Intelligent Algorithm) You’ve heard the saying: you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Well, turns out, you can teach an algorithm to learn from its past—and it’ll make fewer mistakes than an excited Labrador. Reinforcement learning (RL) models are basically those hyper-intelligent pets that get smarter every time they’re rewarded (or punished). In Forex, RL models are trained to look for signals—like those related to mean reversion—and adapt trading strategies based on trial and error. Essentially, these models are making decisions, getting rewarded for correct moves, and getting scolded (let's say metaphorically) for not-so-good ones. Now imagine combining Fluffy’s mean reversion comfort zone tendencies with the relentless learning capabilities of a reinforcement model. You get a trading strategy that’s not only able to identify opportunities but also capable of evolving—the best of both worlds. The Hidden Formula Only Experts Use: Mixing Reinforcement Learning with Mean Reversion Most traders get it wrong by treating reinforcement learning and mean reversion as two separate beasts. The real experts, however, know that combining them unlocks some serious alpha. Think of it like mixing peanut butter with chocolate—both great individually, but absolute magic together. The trick is to train your RL model to recognize those juicy moments when mean reversion is in play—when an asset is ripe for returning to its average. This can be especially useful for currency pairs notorious for retracing to their average prices, such as EUR/USD or GBP/JPY. By optimizing your reinforcement learning model to identify deviations and capture the rebound, you end up automating a process that’s usually done manually—and we all know there’s nothing traders love more than automation that works! How to Train Your Own RL Model for Mean Reversion If you’re intrigued (which you should be, unless you’re allergic to easy pips), here’s a simple breakdown of how you can train your own reinforcement learning model for mean reversion in Forex: - Data Collection: Start by collecting historical data of your preferred currency pairs. Make sure it includes closing prices, volatility, and moving averages. - Define States and Actions: The state could be defined as the price deviation from a moving average. Actions could include either buying, selling, or doing absolutely nothing—like Fluffy when she’s feeling especially lazy. - Reward System: Assign rewards based on the profitability of an action. For example, if your model decides to buy when prices deviate significantly from the average and prices rebound, it gets rewarded. - Training Phase: Let the model loose in a simulated environment. It’ll make mistakes, learn, and eventually become a ninja at identifying and trading mean reversion patterns. This approach not only improves accuracy in recognizing entry points but also adjusts to changing market conditions—making it feel like you have a super-intelligent pet that loves to trade Forex. Why Most Traders Get It Wrong (And How You Can Avoid It) A huge mistake many traders make is overcomplicating their models. Reinforcement learning, while powerful, doesn’t need to be over-engineered. You don’t need a quantum computer running thousands of nodes—just a reliable training set, a well-defined strategy, and an obsession with learning from errors. Remember, complexity doesn’t always equal profitability. The second mistake? They underestimate mean reversion’s simplicity. Most traders see a price drop and think the world is ending—a rookie move equivalent to buying a pair of shoes on sale only to realize you hate the color. Understanding that prices tend to revert to the mean can save you from panic selling and instead help you profit from what everyone else fears. Emerging Trends and Insider Tips In 2024, AI-driven trading is growing exponentially, and reinforcement learning is at the forefront. Traders like George Soros have always focused on market psychology, and today, models like these are doing the psychological heavy lifting for you. An insider secret? Combine sentiment analysis with mean reversion—let your model consider social media or news sentiment along with price deviation. It’s a game changer when predicting just when that cat comes back to its comfort zone. The One Simple Trick That Can Change Your Trading Mindset Here’s an uncommon angle: consider contrarian thinking. When the masses panic—you should prepare. Reinforcement learning, when trained properly, has one significant advantage over human traders: it’s not susceptible to herd mentality. By letting your model do the contrary of what headlines scream, you’ll find yourself collecting pips while everyone else is writing eulogies for their blown accounts. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[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.”

[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

[babblydrabbly]

The Crazy is Mutual || Vigilante x Reader || Oneshot

Pairing: Adrian Chase x gn!reader

Warnings: Language. Canon-typical violence. Blood. Kissing. Some frottage.

Wordcount: 1k+

[ A/N: Spoilers for Peacemaker S1E5! My first Vigilante fic, technically. This one's mostly just silliness with a little spice. ]

You join the team, and Adrian does his best to stick to his guns. Sort of.

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Dude.”

“What, man?” Chris glares up from his ammunition bag. “You’re making me lose count of my shit!”

“Why is Y/n L/n sitting right there?” Adrian whispers, subtly pointing at your back.

You type away on your laptop across from Economos in the dusty little video store that serves as the team’s base. You don’t know exactly why you’re here, but your history of discretion seems to appeal to the man in charge- Mr. Murn. It’s enough to get you hired onto this temporary team. The pay isn’t stellar, but you’re happy for something more interesting to do than your usual gig- catching partners cheating over social media.

Chris glances over his shoulder at you. “L/n? I don’t know. Doing computer shit.”

“I thought Economos was the computer guy!”

Chris zips up the canvas bag with a little extra force. “They wanted someone more familiar with Evergreen to narrow down all the GPS shit, okay? I told them L/n was a good hacker. Now L/n’s here. …The fuck are you doing?”

Adrian is hidden away behind a narrow beam that does little to conceal his body, his limbs twisting more and more around it, as if climbing it will better shield him from view. He lets go and grabs Chris by his uniform sleeve, quickly dragging him to the bathroom and shutting the door.

Christopher slaps him away, but the small space is barely enough room for either of them.

Adrian exhales nervously. He almost doesn’t want to get the truth off his chest, but he just knew Chris would give him the hero counseling he needed right now.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest, because I don’t want to compromise this very important mission. I might possibly used to have a small crush on Y/n in high school.”

Chris stares down at the younger man and waits for more. “Okay? So?”

“So? That’s the definition of compromised! I don’t know what will happen to my moral compass if they’re on the same team as me!”

Chris considers how satisfying it would feel to dunk Adrian’s mop of dark hair into the toilet beside them, like the good old days. Instead, he crosses his arms and sighs tiredly. If he doesn’t humor him now, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“This crush. Still got it?”

Adrian reddens, adjusting his glasses. “I- no. That would be- really sad!” He laughs. Chris arches a skeptical brow as he continues on, his tone mocking himself. “Harboring a crush for ten years? When I’ve talked to Y/n, what, a handful of times in our lives? Ha!”

“...Alright. Just… focus on killing whoever we gotta kill today, dude.”

Adrian brightens at the mention of justice and slaughter. He nods and pats Chris on the bicep, who slapped him away again petulantly.

“I knew you’d tell me what I needed to hear. That’s what best friends are for!”

+

You scream with frustration as your laptop flies from your hands and lands onto the floor in pieces.

Grabbing a fire extinguisher off the wall, you swing it around with all your weight and crack whoever is behind you over the head with it. The warehouse employee collapses to the floor, their skull and brain matter entirely exposed. When another one of those things peeks out, you scream again and stomp your foot down into all the viscera, killing the insect.

At least you assume they’re insects. No one is telling you a goddamn thing.

It wasn’t enough that the warehouse had some form of technological cloaking you’ve never once seen in your life before. Harcourt had ordered you to come inside and try to decrypt it where the signal was stronger- clearly uncaring about whether you were capable of defending yourself or not. One of the other members on the team- Vigilante- had volunteered to escort you, but Adebayo insisted splitting teams up via rochambeau was the only fair choice.

Speaking of the masked man, your head snaps up at the call of your name. You’re met with a splatter of blood to the face.

Another employee falls to their knees in front of you, a bullet from Vigilante's gun still smoking in their skull.

“Heads up again!” He warns.

Before you can respond he’s leaping in front of you into a mass of bodies, all clambering for both of you. Time seems to slow as Vigilante whips out a blade and begins cutting dozens of people limb from limb, their blood painting every surface. His movements are sure. Confident. Relentless. You stare in awe until Vigilante finally finishes the last one off.

Adrian wipes his visor with a wet squeak. He chuckles as he turns to you.

“That got a little messy.”

“I…” You can’t help but stare at how his suit- white, black and blue just moments ago- was now soaked with deep red. “What… what are you doing after this?”

A pause.

“Huh?”

“If we don’t die, what are you doing after this mission?” You repeat.

+

Adrian’s offense over Economos’ using the chainsaw evaporates as soon as you grab him by the collar of his suit and yank the bottom half of his cowl from his neck, exposing his mouth. You silence the man with a hungry kiss before he can protest- not that he wants to. His arms catch you as you wrap your thighs around his waist. You both clunk against the side of the team van loudly. Adrian’s head bounces off the surface, but it doesn’t deter him from returning your kiss with vigor.

“Gross.” Economos mutters as he passes.

You kiss Adrian breathless until he can’t help but roll his hips against your pelvis, his length thick and bulging, even through the layers of his uniform. You grind back, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. “Holy shit,” You pant. “I always knew you started working out- I just didn’t know it was for kicking ass.”

Adrian peppers kisses along your throat, a proud smile forming. “You knew I started working out?”

“Are you kidding? I stalk the shit out of your instagram.” You admit happily.

“I- wait.” Adrian stops rutting helplessly against you, much to your dismay. He feels for his mask, confirming that it’s still half on. “How did you...?”

You flush. “I might just be stalking you period. Your Vigilante stuff and you, I mean.”

“Since when?!”

You giggle shyly, canting your hips. It earns you a groan. “Since the twelfth grade?”

“Oh,” Adrian can’t form much of a thought after that when you continue grinding against him in earnest.

Your lips find his again, tongue pushing into his mouth fervently. A deep sound catches in his throat when you reach down and grasp his length through his costume. He spins you around, slamming your back against the van this time.

“Are you two done fucking?” Chris calls from inside. “We’re leavin’ in two minutes.”

“Okay! Just– Just let me be compromised,” Adrian pleads. “T-Two minutes.”

You laugh, pressing your forehead against his. His flushed cheeks and smile are cuter up close than any selfie you’ve ever stolen from his phone.

“Bet I can make it one.”