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orphicdreamers-wp · 11 months ago

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Hi! I wanted to send a request for rutger. Reader and rutger are dating and theyre at a frat party. Readers drunk and gets taken advantage of. Rutger finds out and him and some of the other hockey boys (who readers grown close with) take matters into their own hands.

Rescue You — Rutger McGroarty

Summary: In which you find yourself needing rescued.

Content Warning; Underage drinking(Reader is 20), sexual assault, victim blaming themselves, blood, fighting, protective Rutger & UMich Hockey Boys, 18+ content!!

Pairing: Rutger McGroarty &Reader(Romantic) Umich Hockey players & Reader(platonic)

Notes: I hope this does the request well. I also added a bit of JJ McCarthy bc I love him.

You honestly didn’t even want to be at this party, Rutger and Seamus had practically forced you to come. But nonetheless you put on a cute dress and spent the better part of the night under Rutger’s arm. You had grown bored of watching your boyfriend and his friends play beer pong. You pressed a kiss against Rutger’s cheek, “I’m gonna go grab a drink Rut.” Rutger’s hands snaked around your hips as he pulled you into a kiss that left you speechless, “I’ll be here my love.” Your heart soared as you walked out of the room and heard Rutger’s friends poke at him for being overly affectionate towards you. Which he always was when he had when he was drunk.

You entered the kitchen and began to pour vodka into a solo cup. “Pretty lame party right?” You jumped at the voice, you turned around to find it belonged to a boy in one of your lectures, Logan or Landon was his name. You smiled sheepishly, “Could definitely be better.” He grinned at this, as a sinking feeling overcame you, “I’m Landon by the way. Your in my intro to gender in media lecture right?” You nodded, “I think so, I’m Y/N.” He grinned as he grabbed a beer, “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Your stomach churned at his words, “Ha thanks.” He had his arm on the cabinet above your head, “You look like you could use something strong. Come on, I have fireball in my room.” You stomach sank, but you’d been drinking beer while observing your boyfriend for most of the night so your judgment was impaired as you agreed and followed him to his room. Your drunken state seemed to poise an opportunity for him. He shut his bedroom door before leading you to the bed. As you sat down you saw the look in his eyes darken as he leaned forward, further and further until his body weight was on top of you. He was easily 6’5 and potentially double your body weight so you had no way of moving.

Anna, Seamus’s girlfriend furrowed an eyebrow as she searched the house for you. She turned to Rutger, “McGroarty, where’s your girl?” Rutger furrowed an eyebrow, “I’m not sure. She said something about going to get a drink.” Anna furrowed an eyebrow as she got up to find you. Landon had both of your hands pinned down with a harsh grip. You had your back to the door, the door creaked open and you heard Anna’s voice, “Sorry, shit my bad, wait Y/N?” She would have recognized the lacy black mini dress on your body, she made it. “Your seriously cheating on Rutger when he’s downstairs?”

Landon was panicking and pulled up his pants and hurried out of the room. Once you realized he was gone from the room you broke into sobs. Anna rushed to your side, she reached out to pull you into a hug when you flinched and your tears streamed down your face, “Anna, don’t tell him.” Anna looked at the bruises forming on your wrists and her jaw clenched, “Okay, honey I won’t tell Rutger but you should.” You sniffled, “He wouldn’t be able to look at me the same. I’m scared Anna.” Anna sniffled, “Can I hug you Y/N?” You nodded through your tears and melted into your friends arms.

You finally calmed down enough to go downstairs with Anna. Rutger, Luca, Seamus, Ethan, Mark and Adam were all still playing beer pong. The game was quickly abandoned as soon as Rutger got a glimpse of your tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He was immediately heading for you, “Baby, what happened?” You pulled back from him slightly, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been drinking so much.” Luca’s jaw clenched, he put two and two together.

Jazz, Luca’s girlfriend shook her head, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong sweetie.” Rutger’s hands found their way into a ball, “Who did it? I need you to tell me who did this to you.” You let out a small sob, “His name’s Landon. I don’t know anything else.” Adam’s jaw tensed, “Dark hair? Big guy?” You nodded as Anna held you into a warm embrace. Adam turned to his brother, “I’ll be back.” He walked out of the room, “McCarthy!” JJ’s head shot up from the redhead he was doing a body shot off of, “What’s up bro?”

Adam scoffed, “Where’s your boy Landon?” JJ shrugged, “Last I saw him he was headed out back. Why?” Adam clenched his fist, “He just took advantage of my boys girl. I’m about to kick his ass.” JJ shot up, feeling anger course through his veins, “He did what?” Suddenly you were left standing with Anna and Jazz on either side of you. The drinking game long forgotten as your boyfriend and his teammates stormed outside. You insisted on following them.

The minute the backdoor opened, the entire feeling of the backyard changed. Landon was sat on a lawn chair with a perky blonde on his lap. JJ approached the pair and looked at the girl, “If I were you I’d move.” The girl took one look at JJ and got up, sensing the blonde football player was serious. Landon glared at his teammate, “Man I was working my magic here.” JJ scoffed, “I really don’t give a damn dude. Your such a piece of shit.” Landon scoffed and began to speak only to be cut off by Rutger punching him in the face.

Landon barely stumbled and went to retract his fist only to be punched in the face from the opposite side by Luca, “Don’t even try it bitch.” Mark came from behind pulling Landon around and punching him so hard Landon fell to the ground. Landon looked to JJ for assistance, “Bro your not gonna help me out?” JJ crossed his arms, “Not when you take advantage of a drunk girl under the same roof as me. I’m not defending you. You did it yourself.” Landon scoffed, “That’s what this is about? That bitch?” Rutger could have sworn he was seeing red as he pulled his hand back and repeated hit Landon in the face. Only stopping when he saw blood on his hands and saw the horrified look in your eyes. He scoffed, “Expect a appointment with your coach and the dean.” He walked away from him and towards you, “Y/N baby I am so so sorry.” You felt your body give way as you leaned into your boyfriend’s arms.

#hockey player x reader #fanfic #hockey #rutger mcgroarty #rutger mcgroarty x reader #hockey player #umich imagine #umich hockey #mark estapa #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #seamus casey

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cyberl6ve · 5 months ago

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𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝟏

CHECK MASTERLIST FOR OTHER CHAPTERS!!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ ❤︎︎ ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

જ⁀➴ : In the gritty streets of Los Angeles, Chris Sturniolo thrived as a confident drug dealer known for his sharp wit and laid-back demeanor. Amidst the chaos, there was one person he held close: Y/N. They shared a unique bond of flirty banter and magnetic chemistry, their 'friendship' blending with moments of deeper connection. Despite Chris's reputation, his loyalty to Y/N was unwavering, subtly marked by red roses— an emblem of their unspoken commitment amidst the secrets and uncertainties of their world.

⋆˙⟡ STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT !! ⋆˙⟡

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐭, and I couldn’t sleep despite the summer heat. Tossing and turning under my thin sheet, I glanced towards my phone, the screen lighting up as a message buzzed through. Curiously, I checked the notification.

It was from him. After a year of no communication, he was finally back. My heart rate quickened as I opened the message.

“Meet me at the rooftop. Now.”

I stared at the screen, the command sending a thrill down my spine. The roof, at this time of night? My mind swirling with questions but curiosity won.

Quickly, I threw on a hoodie and slid on a pair of shoes. A glance at the clock confirmed the late hour, but the mystery of his return was too tempting to resist.

The walk to the roof felt like an eternity despite the short distance. My thoughts raced as I slowly climbed the stairs, my heart pounding against my chest. Each step echoed in the empty stairwell, drowning out the city’s distant hum.

Finally, I reached the door that led to the roof. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open, greeted by the warm night air.

There he stood, a silhouette against the city skyline, smoke lazily drifting from his lips. He heard the creak of the door, turning slightly, revealing his face lit by the city lights.

I crossed the rooftop, my footsteps soft against the concrete. Despite the casualness of his appearance, there was an air of intensity surrounding him.

As I approached, he took another drag from his blunt, the ember briefly illuminating his face in the dark. His eyes, dark and sharp, followed my movements, studying me with a mixture of familiarity and something else.

I stood beside him, the city's buzz providing a background hum to our conversation. Glancing at him, I asked bluntly, “Why are you here?”

He took another drag of his blunt, exhaling slowly before turning his gaze towards the busy street below. “Just wanted to see you,” he answered, his voice nonchalant but the slight tension in his shoulders betraying his casual tone.

I crossed my arms, a hint of annoyance lacing my words. “A year of no communication? Where the hell have you been, Christopher?”

He let out a dry chuckle, the corners of his lips curling up in a smirk. “Here and there,” he replied evasively, his eyes drifting back to the city lights.

I could feel the irritation building in my chest. “That's not an answer,” I retorted, my voice firm.

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another puff of his blunt. “It's not supposed to be,” he said, blowing smoke into the night air before looking at me directly, his gaze unapologetic.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his typical response. “Always with the mystery,” I muttered, the frustration evident in my tone.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You know you love it,” he replied, his voice filled with a familiar confidence.

Despite my annoyance, a hint of relief tinged my voice. “Glad you're back, though,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His smirk widened, as if he knew the effect he still had on me. “Didn't think you'd miss me,” he teased, his eyes glinting with a playful gleam.

“I can survive without you, you know,” I quipped, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. Despite my words, my heart fluttered at his proximity.

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “No need to play tough, love. I know you missed me,” he teased, moving closer, the gap between us shrinking.

I stood my ground, refusing to back down. “Cocky as ever, huh?” I retorted, raising an eyebrow at his audacity.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “You like it though,” he whispered, the low timbre of his voice sending a jolt of heat through me.

I tried to maintain my composure, but his cocky demeanor was getting the best of me. I let out a laugh, giving his chest a playful shove.

“You're insufferable,” I said, shaking my head in mock annoyance.

I sauntered over to a few nearby chairs and an unlit fire pit, the faint scent of smoke still lingering from past gatherings. Dropping into one of the seats, I watched as he followed, swagger in his stride.

“So, you've returned. Finally decided to grace me with your presence, huh?” I tried to sound sardonic, hiding the fact that I was glad to see him.

Chris chuckled, taking a seat next to me. He leaned back, his arm draped over the back of my chair.

“You act like you weren't counting the days,” he teased, his gaze fixed on the skyline. The moonlight cast shadows on his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features.

Despite my best efforts to keep up my nonchalant demeanor, his words hit a nerve. “I wasn't,” I protested, my voice faltering slightly.

He turned his head to look at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Oh, really?” he drawled, his eyes narrowing. “You're a terrible liar, you know that?”

A flicker of irritation shot through me as he called me out on my bluff. “And you're a pain in the ass,” I retorted, although the bite in my voice was lacking.

He chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Yet, you still keep me around,” he mused, shifting closer, our thighs now touching.

I had no rebuttal to his comment. He hit the truth right on the nose, and I was silently cursing my own weaknesses for him.

His proximity was affecting me more than I cared to admit. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the subtle scent of his cologne wafting through the air.

His gaze was fixed on me, studying my reaction. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he could read my thoughts.

“You can't resist me, and you know it,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “No matter how much you try to play hard to get, I know I'm the only one who can get under your skin like this.”

His words struck a nerve, awakening a desire I couldn't ignore. My gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, and a pang of heat shot through me.

Unable to help myself, I let my eyes linger on his mouth, the memory of his kiss flashing through my mind. I quickly snapped my eyes back up, hoping he hadn't noticed my slip.

His hand moved to my jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He traced the line of my jaw with his thumb, a subtle caress that sent tingles down my spine.

He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. I could feel his warm breath against my skin, the air between us crackling with tension.

He continued to caress my jaw, his voice dropping to a softer tone. His usually cocky demeanor faded, replaced by a hint of vulnerability.

“I missed you,” he confessed, his eyes searching mine. “More than you know. I'm sorry for being gone so long, for leaving without a word. The distance between us was unbearable, and not a day passed that I didn't think about you.”

His fingers moved to my cheek, tracing small circles. “I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere.”

A mixture of emotions washed over me, hearing the sincerity in his voice. I couldn't help but soften, the walls I had built around my heart weakening.

“You caused me a lot of pain, you know,” I whispered, my voice quiet but firm. “I didn't know what had happened, or if you were even okay. And then you just show up out of the blue, expecting everything to be fine?”

He let out a shaky breath, the guilt palpable in his expression. “I know,” he admitted, his thumb moving to brush against my lower lip. “I was a coward. I should've told you why I left, but I didn't want you to worry. But being away from you, not being able to see you or hear your voice, it was torture.”

I couldn't deny the impact his words were having on me, the mixture of hurt and vulnerability in his confession getting to me.

I reached up and took his hand away from my face, holding it in mine, our fingers intertwining. “You can't just disappear like that and reappear whenever you please,” I chided, my voice a mix of frustration and longing.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away,” he said, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

He leaned even closer, his forehead touching mine. “I promise I'll make it up to you, Y/N. And I'll prove to you that I'm here to stay this time. No more running, no more disappearing.”

I could see the genuine remorse in his eyes, his desire to make amends clear. As much as I wanted to hold onto my anger, I understood the nature of his world all too well.

“I get it, you know,” I murmured, my voice softer now. “The danger, the need to vanish. I know you had your reasons.”

A flicker of surprise passed over his face before he softened, his fingers squeezing mine gently. “I forget how well you know me sometimes,” he admitted, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He looked deeply into my eyes, the connection between us growing stronger. “I meant what I said, though. I won't leave again, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and by my side.”

The air was thick with tension, the desire between us undeniable. He leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from mine.

“I need you,” he murmured, the words sent a jolt through me. “I need you more than anything.” He closed the gap between us, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was a maelstrom of emotions, pent-up desire and longing pouring through us. His hand moved to the back of my neck, angling my head to deepen the kiss.

I couldn’t resist, surrendering to the intensity of the moment, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer.

The kiss grew more feverish, our bodies pressed tightly together. As he pulled away, I gasped for air, his name slipping from my lips.

“Chris...”

He took the opportunity to nip at my lower lip, his teeth lightly biting down. “Say it again,” he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire.

A shiver of pleasure ran through me at his command. “Chris...” I repeated, my voice a breathless whisper.

He groaned, the sound sent a thrill down my spine. “Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he murmured, his lips finding my neck.

His mouth trailed a path down my throat, leaving a trail of kisses along my skin. His free hand slid under the hem of my shirt, caressing the bare skin of my hip.

I let out a soft moan, arching into his touch, the heat spreading through my body with each brush of his lips against my skin.

His mouth still on my neck, he could feel the sudden shift in my body. The subtle shaking, the catch in my breath, and the way my hands gripped his shirt tighter.

He pulled back, looking at my face, and saw the tears starting to roll down my cheeks.

His expression softened instantly, his eyes filled with concern. “Hey, hey, what's wrong?” he asked gently, his thumbs wiping the tears away.

I couldn’t hold it back, the mixture of emotions overwhelming me. I let the words tumble out.

“I missed you so much, it hurt. Not knowing if you were okay, if you were even coming back... I was a mess. And now you’re here, but I don’t know if you’ll just disappear again and I can’t handle that, I can’t-” I stopped myself, the tears flowing harder now.

He gently framed my face with his hands, his thumbs still wiping away my tears as they fell. His eyes darted back and forth between mine, a look of tender concern etched into his features.

“Y/N, I’m here, I’m here sweetheart,” he repeated, his voice a soothing murmur. “Don’t cry, Love. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in a protective embrace. I buried my face in his chest, taking comfort in his presence, the sound of his heartbeat steady and calming.

He held me tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispered, his voice thick with remorse. “I never wanted to cause you pain, never wanted to make you cry.”

I clung to him, my tears slowly subsiding as his words sank in. The heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the feel of his heart beating against my cheek – all of it reassured me that he was real and he was here.

“Just don’t ever leave again,” I mumbled into his hoodie, the fear and hurt still lingering in my voice. “Don’t disappear without telling me.”

He tightened his embrace, his grip almost possessive. “Never again,” he vowed, his voice firm and resolute. “I won't leave you again like that, I swear.”

His hand moved to my face, gently tilting my head up to look at him. He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. “I don't want to be anywhere that you're not.”

I looked up at him, the moonlight illuminating his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the softness of his lips. With a gentle touch, I traced my fingers along his jawline, relishing the feel of his stubbled chin under my fingertips.

As I roamed my gaze over his features, my expression softened, filled with a yearning, almost reverent look. His beauty took my breath away, like a work of art brought to life.

He leaned into my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. He could feel the emotion in my gaze, the silent declaration of the love and longing that filled my heart.

His hand rose, gently caressing my cheek, his thumb tracing the contour of my jaw. “You're looking at me like that again,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of awe and wonder.

I tried to pull away, guilt and insecurity making me want to put some distance between us. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, my voice soft but tinged with remorse.

He quickly caught my wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his eyes holding mine captive.

Before I could respond, he tugged me closer, maneuvering me onto his lap. I gasped, the unexpected action causing me to stumble, but he caught me easily, settling me comfortably against his chest.

His arms encircled me, holding me in place. I could feel the warmth of his body pressed against mine, his scent surrounding me like a comforting blanket.

He tilted my chin up, our faces now just inches apart. “Don’t apologize for needing me,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Don’t ever feel guilty for showing your true feelings. I like seeing ALL sides of you.”

A wave of relief washed over me, the guilt that had been gnawing at me slowly dissipating. His words were like a balm to my soul, soothing the ache in my heart.

I shifted in his lap, my legs straddling his hips, our bodies now impossibly close. “Chris...” My voice was barely above a whisper, the vulnerability and longing evident in my tone.

He wrapped his arms around me tighter, his hands resting on the small of my back. I could feel his heart beating against mine, the rhythm matching my own.

He leaned in, his lips next to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “You say my name like you’re praying,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and possession.

My pulse quickened, my breath catching in my throat. His words, the way he held me, it was both comforting and intoxicating, a potent combination that only he could evoke in me.

“Chris,” I repeated, the syllables of his name a plea, a prayer, a declaration of the love that filled me to the brim.

His fingers dug into my hips, the sudden firmness of his grip catching me off guard. I could feel his breath quickening, his chest rising and falling faster.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Authors note: new story !! sorry for the inactivity have no motivation to write but trying my best tonight to finish on the down low

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #cyberl6ve

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aaal-iz-well · 13 days ago

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✦ making the rumor mill churn ✦　　

a/n: hey guys, so this is basically me making good on my promise to post small ficlets and stuff, so here you go. enjoy reading it. the title says it all.

“Avery!”

“Miss Grambs!”

“Look here!”

“Mr. Hawthorne, how do you feel about the comments on your relationship with Avery Grambs?”

Avery tensed beside Jameson, smile growing tight, and despite all the media practice, her shoulders curled inwards. No one would notice it, except the edits where they focused on every micro aspect of her body language in slow motion.

Avery would hate it.

Jameson cocked his head in a pose, winking at a random boy in behind the cameras, seeing him squeak. He widened his stance, because despite the heels, Avery wasn’t quite as tall as him.

“Heiress?” he spoke in her ear.

“Huh,” she hummed, careful not to turn towards him. He could already imagine all the thoughts in her head, what would happen if she did.

“Do you think they know,” he asked casually over the din of the reporters bombing them with questions.

What would you say about your father’s connection with Miss Skye Hawthorne? There’s uncertainty about the future of the Hawthorne name after your decision to liquidate majority of assets for charity. Is it—

“What, Jameson?” Usually, his vague questions (Heiress, guess what I’m thinking right now? When am I going to see the girl of my dreams?) were met with equally vague— and at times mischievous— answers from the young billionaire.

A question for a question.

He would forgive her for not playing this time. He supposed the strain of her smile, of having to keep her cheeks up, but not too wide, not too creepy, not so, bluh, generic, not like that, was taking a toll on her capacity to entertain him.

No worries, he could be the entertainer tonight.

“About the mark on my collarbone,” he whispered, the words barely more than air. “Do you think I should pull it down just a little, teeny tiny bit. Give them something to talk about?”

“Jameson!” she said through her smile, eyes never straying to his. Her calmness was laudable, really. At times, he was willing to bet it gave Grayson’s a run for his money. Literally. But he could sense the undertone of warning in it. she might as well have said the words with daggers in her eyes.

“What are you going to do?” he challenged her in a sing song manner, pretending not to notice the tick in her jaw. The way she seemed to withdraw from the crowd was something he relished in. The way, despite her frozen face, he knew he had her attention. Her spine straightened. Her smile was muscle memory, and she was looking— not at the reporters of cameras, or journalists— just looking. Her gorgeous self. Above all the lies they were ready to spew about her.

“Are you going to kiss me on the mouth after that, cause like cat’s out of the bag?” he continued lowly, serenading in her ear. “Really really hard. Show them you did it, banish all those stories from their minds.”

“Shut up Jameson,” she said, her lips barely moving to make the sound. They moved further up the carpet, his hand on her back.

Jameson assesses the crowd from this higher vantage. “They seem to want to know an awful lot, don't they. And I wouldn’t mind climbing the rung to the hottest Hawthorne. My aunt's had her days, af—”

Suddenly, Jameson shut his mouth like a trap.

Well, that was okay, relatively okay, considering the alternative was yelping like a kitten when Avery pinched him, right on his hip. Where she knew the skin wasn’t quite as sturdy as the rest on his body. They’d had a long night, though he was far from complaining.

“Cat got your tongue, Jamie darling?” she said, finally finally looking at him, speaking the words right over his face. The words weren’t spoken through her frozen smile. This was a secretive one, meant only for him. Something that Landon couldn’t take the credit for instilling, something entirely, unapologetically her own.

The answer to her question would be in the affirmative, cause he couldn’t bring himself to answer. His entire body tingled with tremors, the epicentre where she’d pinched him.

“Who knew you had a pause button.” Her nails lightly dragged over his back, but they were more soothing than teasing. “Smile for the cameras.”

“You forget, Heiress,” he told her when he’d recovered. A forearm hoisted on her shoulder to make up for lost time. “Two can play that game.”

“They very well can,” she told him, a twinkle in her eyes. “But I doubt you want me on your bad side, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.”

His heiress really did know all the chinks in his armour. The way she said his name, the practiced ease, it slowly rolled off her mouth like that. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Like leisurely unspinning a yarn; a command; a challenge; a gauntlet thrown down. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Brimming with things only the two of them could understand.

He was a squeaking schoolgirl, a fangirl, a crazy man palpitating on the street.

“What?” he asked her. “You're going to unleash your PR dogs on me”

“I’ll alone be enough to make you regret it, let alone my PR.”

Jameson, for this once thought it best not to test her. He was done here. So he let his arm drop from her shoulder and wound it around her waist instead as they made to take their seats. “I think I agree.”

“Miss Grambs, Mr. Hawthorne, is it true that the two of you are in a relationship? The rumour mill is certainly going to be busy tonight.”

And well, later on, when it was Avery’s turn on the stage, he knew that camera was panned in on him, if he fanned his collar— it was a bit stuffy, in his defence, or rather his cover— and made sure people knew, he could always claim plausible deniability.

a/n: so that's it. i have some more ideas and may be posting soon, thanks for reading. also feel free to send some promp if you iiked this. buh byee love you guys

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #averyjameson #jameson winchester hawthorne #tig fanfic #tig #games untold #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit

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b0w-ties-are-cool · 1 year ago

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Baby Fever (Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader) [SMUT]

Summary: You are doom-scrolling on the internet and there are baby images and videos everywhere. You might just convince your boyfriend... (; SFW FOUND HERE

Warning(s): Baby fever obvi, suggestive language another obvi, cunnilingus (sorta ig), piv sex, breeding kink, soft!dom!doctor, unprotected sex, is "alien sex" something I need to include in the warnings?

Word count: 1,142

You had convinced your boyfriend, the Doctor, to get an actual phone so that you could send him TikToks. After about a week of trying to convince him he finally gave in. It was soon after that your for you page got delightfully plagued with videos of babies. These videos poured fuel on your baby fever ember.

You started saving them to your favorites and sending them to your boyfriend. Your baby fever started to get so bad that you had dreams about you and the Doctor having a baby. At that point, you didn't know if you were daydreaming or nightdreaming.

Babies took over your TikTok, Pinterest, and Instagram. You made mental notes of baby names that you liked. You knew that their name would have to be unique. You particularly liked Sailor, Zamora, Atlas, and Kya.

You are currently lying on the couch in your three bedroom apartment in Chicago. It has a grey-brown aesthetic with a grey couch and brown wooden coffee. You had a Roku TV, you turned on The Big Bang Theory just to have background noise as you scrolled on Pinterest.

You and the Doctor are babysitting your sister's kids. Technically her and her kids lived with you, you just take care of them because she has a night job.

You had gotten the 2 year old twins, Logan and Landon, to bed. You had bunk beds with rails for them. And there was a crib in there as well for your sister's 9 month old, Bella. You had tasked the Doctor with putting Bella to bed.

You hear footsteps approach you, and you look up to see the Doctor standing behind you.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" He asks as he shows you his phone that is open to his TikTok messages with all the baby videos that you sent him.

"...No..." You say awkwardly, "They were on my FYP."

"Apparently on your Pinterest too," He states, looking at your phone screen and raising his eyebrows.

"And Instagram..." You mutter, your face is burning.

The Doctor chuckles, "Got a bad case of the baby fever?"

"Yeeessss!" You whine and drag out the pronunciation of the e and the s. You sit up and turn around to face the Doctor. "Impregnate me goddamnit!" You shout playfully.

The Doctor laughs while mouthing 'no' and shakes his head at your shenanigans.

"That could be my Christmas gift!" You grin up at him, biting your lip mischievously.

"Your Christmas gift?" The Doctor questions, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows at you. There is a hint of a smile that he is trying to hold back.

"Yes!" You exclaim, "Or right now." You stand up from your spot on the loveseat and walk up to him, knowing exactly what to say to convince him. "Breed me, Doctor," You whisper in his ear.

Before you knew it, you were in your bedroom. The Doctor kisses and leaves marks on your neck. Your hand rests on the back of his head, your fingers tangled in his hair.

The Doctor discards his tweed jacket to the floor and you push his suspenders down his arms. You pull at each other's clothes until all that is left is your undergarments.

The Doctor picks you up and lays you down on your bed. He pulls your underwear off and eyes your cunt. You whine in pleasure as he licks a stripe up your folds. He kisses your clit and leaves open-mouthed kisses up your body until he gets to the band of your bra. The Doctor removes your bra and leaves kisses and hickeys on your beasts.

He massages your breast with one hand while the other rubs circles around your clit. You gasp when he slips two fingers inside of you.

He moves his hand from your breast to your cheek, he leans down and passionately kisses you on the lips. Your hands find his hair again, tangling your fingers in it, just about his ears.

You gasp slightly when the Doctor pulls his fingers out. He licks them clean then goes back to kissing you. He kisses a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your collarbone.

He moves his hands down your body until he gets to your thighs. "Lift your hips, my love." He tells you, when you do, he places your extra pillow under them.

The Doctor pulls his underwear off, you eye his hard cock. He leans closer, you moan slightly when rubs himself against your folds. He leans his face to yours and presses his lips to yours. "You want me to fill you up?" He asks against your lips. "Stuff you full of my seed?"

"Yes, Doctor, please," You whine and moan desperately.

He adjusts your thighs so that your legs wrap around his waist. He thrusts into you, bottoming out. You throw your head back, moaning. The Doctor kisses your neck then moves your head back up to kiss your lips.

He thrusts in and out, fucking you slowly, while you make out. You wrap your arms around his neck then move them down his shoulders. A small knot starts to form in your core.

"Doctor," You moan against his lips. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking the skin.

You move your hand down between you and the Doctor. Desperate for the knot to grow faster, you rub quick circles on your clit.

The Doctor grabs your wrist and moves your hand away. "No need to do that, darling. Just say you wanted to go faster." He whispers against your ear. "Is that what you want?"

You nod in response.

"Use your words my dear." He tells you.

"Yes. Please, Doctor." You mutter.

He picks up his pace, thrusting into you quickly. As he continues, the knot becomes tighter and bigger. You moan his name repetitively like a prayer.

"I'm close," You moan. You tangle your fingers in his hair, lightly pulling it. The Doctor's breathing faulters and he lets out a moan.

The knot in your core snaps. You throw your head back. Your cunt tightens around his cock as your orgasm hits.

The Doctor moans, he thrusts a couple more times before he stops, fully inside of you. His own orgasm hits, cumming inside of you.

He stays fully sheathed inside of you for a few minutes. He breathes heavily against the crook of your neck.

When he catches his breath his pulls out of you. He looks at your cum-filled pussy and scoops up an overflow and stuffs it inside. He places a kiss on your cunt then lays down next to you.

You turn your head to look at him. "We were supposed to be babysitting..." You mutter with a laugh.

"Babysitting, baby making. They go hand in hand." The Doctor jokes with a smile.

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x you #baby fever #eleventh doctor smut

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thefallennightmare · 17 days ago

Text

It's me, again. Please act surprised that I'm here with yet another Landon thot. The whore on my shoulder will not shut up. This one is shorter than the other two but still just as nasty.

18+ CW BELOW THE CUT(face sitting, mustache riding, Landon being a munch, Landon being a simp for his dove.)

“Please sit on my face, dove. I want you to suffocate me.”

I hovered over him, bearing my pussy to him, and held onto the headboard. Nerves wrecked through me with his words because we had never done this in our sex life. We’d only been together a few months so we were still experimenting. I’d never done this with any of my previous partners because I was afraid of sitting on their face and making it hard for them to breathe.

“I’m afraid,” I admitted.

Landon looked up at me between my legs and tenderly gripped my thighs. “I promise you, I’ll be fine. You won’t be too heavy if that's what you’re worried about.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, suddenly feeling small with his heated gaze. “How far do I sit down?”

He positioned my body over his face, my pussy so close to his lips as his eyes pinned me from between my legs again.

“All the way. If I can’t breathe, I’ll tap your thigh to let you know but I promise I can take it.”

With a deep breath, I nodded and slowly sat down on Landon’s face, his mustache tickling me. His tongue immediately devoured me, fucking me as he held my thighs closer to his head. Landon’s breath was muffled as he continued his onslaught of my pussy, switching from fucking me with his tongue to sucking and biting on my clit. I grabbed the headboard to keep me upright when I let my head fall back, my hair skimming over my back. My jaw went slack when I felt the familiar flicker low in my gut and began riding his face; more so his mustache as it left marks in its wake on my thighs.

Landon moaned his approval of me riding his face as his nails dug into the flesh of my thighs. I was so close, on the brink of of bliss, and when he bit down on my clit that was my undoing. I yelled out my release, panting his name over and over again.

“Fuck,” he grazed his teeth over the inside of my thigh where he left mustache burns. “I hope this isn’t going to bother you.”

In a post orgasmic haze, I fell to the bed next to him while snuggling closer into his chest. My arousal coated his mustahe and chin, Landon making no effort to clean himself.

“I like to think of them as battle scars that I’ll wear proudly,” I joked with a laugh.

His large hand sprawled over my lower back. “You looked so fucking beautiful sitting on my face, dove. I’ll be thinking of that image for a while.”

I kissed the tattoos over his chest. “Give me a minute and I’ll be happy to do it again.”

“Please,” Landon begged with a groan.

#tina talks #landon tewers #landon tewers blurbs #landon tewers smut #the plot in you

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universitypenguin · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 26

Summary: Princess makes a worrying discovery while looking through Lloyd’s briefcase. Zach and Lloyd search Copper Ridge Quarry and have an argument. Meanwhile, Princess becomes entangled in the issue of a spy operating inside of Bishop & Howard.

Word Count: 5,024

Warnings: This story contains content that is intended for those who are at least eighteen years old, such as explicit sexual content, strong language, references to spying, murder, kidnapping and criminal elements.

Masterlist

Author’s Note: I did get this chapter published today as promised but editing took a really long time because it snowed here today, which was really depressing for me (come on, it’s March, give me sunshine) so I was feeling very unmotivated and lazy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Twenty-Six

As promised, you reviewed the footage of Nguyen’s interrogation. Two moments raised red flags. The first occurred when Lloyd mentioned Tate Corbin’s witness statement. From his previous interviews and court testimonies, you knew Nguyen wasn’t easily drawn into speculation, but the topic of his neighbor’s observations caused an abrupt change in his demeanor. Suddenly, he was eager to speculate. You marked the timestamp and wrote a note for Lloyd. The second red flag was more significant. As an interrogation subject, Nguyen was usually willing to answer questions, though the quality of his responses varied. That said, an outright refusal to respond was rare; in fact there was only one instance where it cropped up.

When questioned about his former colleague who testified against him at trial his evasion stood out sharply in contrast to his typical style of guarded cooperation. It caught your attention, so you annotated that spot as well. Nothing in particular jumped out at you as significant in the rest of the footage, but watching it all together, it irked you that Nguyen hesitated to challenge his colleague’s testimony. Most murder suspects protested vehemently when confronted with false accusations.

The fact that Nguyen didn’t was unsettling.

A staccato rap of knuckles on your door startled you from your musings. Landon stepped into the room and raised an eyebrow when he saw you massaging your temples.

“Headache?”

"Yeah. Re-watching Nguyen's interview is driving me nuts."

"Skip the aspirin this time."

You snorted. "Never again. What's up?"

"Jake and I have a stakeout. Need a ride home?"

"No. Lloyd's my ride, whenever he gets back."

"Text if you need us. Remember the silent alarm triggers are under the receptionist’s desk and in Zach’s office. He showed you?"

"Yeah, he did. Thanks."

- - - - -

After the guys left, the office was silent. You finished reviewing the interview footage and made an attempt at Lloyd’s strategy of listening to the interview audios alone, which proved fruitless. The audio alone was too dull to be endured. After saving your notes to the shared drive, you strolled around the office to stretch your legs. It was nearly nine o’clock, and there was still no word from Lloyd or Zach. You opened the tracking app on your phone and verified their location in the woods near Copper Ridge Quarry.

You needed a distraction, so you poked around in the share drive and read the report Lloyd had filed on his meeting with Tate Corbin. When you clicked through the attachments for his handwritten notes nothing came up. There were no attachments anywhere in his last few uploads so they hadn’t been filed mistakenly. Your gaze landed on the hazelnut leather briefcase he’d left beside your desk. After a brief debate, you decided he wouldn’t mind. It wasn’t snooping if there was a purpose, right? You lifted the briefcase to your desk and took a deep, steadying breath. As you unzipped the main compartment, your phone rang, making you almost jump out of your skin.

Jen’s face flashed on the caller ID.

You sank back against the cushioned backrest of your chair and answered. “Hey, Jen. What’s up?”

“Not much, just checking in. How’s working from home?”

"It’s different. Kind of boring, but I’m getting a lot done.”

“I haven’t seen much of Lloyd around the office lately. Is he working from home, too?”

“He’s been doing a lot of field work,” you said, ducking the question.

“Mmmhh, really throwing himself into it, is he?”

Knowing Jen as long as you had, the dry tone of her voice tipped you off that she wouldn’t let the matter of Lloyd's absence go. She’d poke and prod and side-step you down the garden path until she had an explanation. You should’ve anticipated that the cover story Bishop had spread around the office, spinning your attack as a slip and fall by the pool, wouldn’t pass the smell test with Jen.

“Yeah. Things picked up a bit in the investigation… uh, new leads….”

“I’ve always appreciated that Lloyd goes after things like a force of nature.”

“Have you?” You raised an eyebrow, reaching into the front divider of Lloyd’s briefcase and pulling out a stack of files. The third degree was coming, and you knew it.

“He takes the bull by the horns,” Jen said.

“Interesting. Are you developing a soft spot for Lloyd?”

Jen snorted. “He’s right up there with Hawaiian pizza in my book.”

You laughed, flipping through the files. None of them were related to the Harmony case, so you set them aside and searched the second pocket in the briefcase.

“Wanna know something else about Lloyd?” you teased, hoping to distract Jen.

“Hmmm?”

“I only found this out recently, but he actually was a cowboy.”

“Are you for real?”

“Would I lie to you? He called me when he was in Idaho and told me about herding cattle and roping and my ovaries almost exploded.”

“I love that for you. Did he bring you pictures? Also, does this have anything to do with his odd choice of facial hair?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Right, you’re too young to remember Westerns. You know the old movies about Doc Holliday, The Sundance Kid, Wyatt Earp…? I could go on, but you get the point.”

“I’ll have to ask him,”

“How’s your neck?” Jen asked.

“A lot better.”

You cringed, waiting for the attack to begin.

“Mmmhh. Glad to hear it.”

There was a long pause and you held back, distracting yourself from the temptation of talking by opening the next compartment of Lloyd’s briefcase. There was a padfolio and a few more files. You opened one of them and found insurance paperwork for a 1971 Mercury Cougar.

“Listen, I heard about your fall by the pool from Bishop, and I know it was bullshit. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t really talk about it, Jen. I’m sorry.”

“Talk about what, exactly?”

“Jen… I can’t tell you what’s going on, okay?”

“Is it personal? Professional? Does it have something to do with Lloyd?”

You blew out a breath, considering your answer. The stalking was personal, but the IP address that the stalker had used to hack your work laptop was definitely professional. If he’d hack your laptop, who was to say he hadn’t tapped Jen’s work line, too?

“I’m dealing with some personal stuff.”

“And you were in the hospital twice this past month. There was an ER visit at Georgetown University Hospital and another in Harmony.”

“How do you know about those?” you demanded.

“Your apartment building forwarded over a stack of mail. I saw the medical bills and figured they were ER visits, thanks for confirming, though. I didn’t actually open them.”

“I can’t share it yet, but me staying out of the office is what’s best for right now.”

“Why were you in the hospital?” Jen asked.

You rubbed your forehead and wondered why you chose to develop friendships with people who had the personalities of Jack Russell Terriers. “I hurt my neck, just like Bishop said. The other one was for a medication reaction, but it turned out fine.”

“Fine? But who picked you up from the hospital? Did you call your Mom? Never mind, don’t answer that, I know you didn’t. Have you told your Mom what’s going on?”

Jen meant well, and you knew that, but she’d never comprehend that your Mom didn’t take her responsibilities as a parent to heart the same way Jen did.

“I didn’t tell her I was in the hospital because it’s just not something she could handle. She’s kind of high strung,” you gently reminded her. “Lloyd drove me home both times.”

“So, Lloyd is taking care of you? Adequately?”

You rolled your eyes at her suspicious tone. “Yes, he’s shockingly good at playing nurse. And he can cook.”

“Thank goodness, I’ve been worried that you were subsisting on takeout alone.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch,” you said.

“Mmmhh. Well. I’m not trying to be pushy, honest. I just… worry about you.”

“I know that, Jen. Give me some time, okay? I’ll tell you everything when I can and hopefully I won’t seem like such an asshole then.”

“You’re not capable of being an asshole except when you’ve been provoked to it,” Jen said. “That’s why I’ve been so worried.”

“Thank you.”

You picked up another file that had been in Lloyd’s briefcase and leafed through it. Once you realized that it was a copy of Joe Hansen’s will, you snapped it shut. Jen’s voice morphed into the background as she turned the conversation to a recap of current affairs at the law firm. Why was Lloyd still carrying a copy of his father’s will? On a scale of one to ten, how much of a violation of privacy would it be to read… maybe just the first page? The first few pages? Your internal debate was interrupted by a gasp from Jen.

“I almost forgot to tell you! I met Mr. Howard the other day!”

“Mr. Howard?” You drew a blank, having been more preoccupied with the will than the conversation.

“Wilson Howard? The other half of Bishop & Howard? The infamously silent and absent founding partner of B&H…?”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, it was crazy, like stumbling on a unicorn on a jogging trail. He actually came into the office.”

“Why did he come in?”

“Because of you,” Jen said.

“What did I do?!”

“Remember the emails that you forwarded to HR? The ones from Westin Tafferty? According to the grape vine, they made their way up to Bishop, who responded by siccing Mr. Howard on Westin.”

“Oh, shit.”

Jen chuckled at your dismay. “He was here all morning and met with paralegals to get the tea on Westin before coming to visit me. He asked about you.”

“This is not good.”

“Relax,” Jen said. “He just wanted to know if Westin had harassed the whole paralegal department, or if he’d focused on you. And you’ll never guess what else I found out…”

“I’m afraid to ask,” you said.

Jen snickered. “Per Mr. Howard, there was a conversation between Mr. Bishop and Lloyd a month ago where Lloyd threatened to ‘use the Geneva Conventions as a to-do list’ if Westin kept bothering you.”

You buried your head in your hands, groaning, while Jen laughed.

“Anyways, after he’d interviewed the team he went down to HR and had a two hour chat with Westin, who denied everything, but given that it was a two hour meeting, I think we can guess how that went.”

“No one called me about this.”

“You’d already done your part by reporting him,” Jen said. “Also, according to my sources, Westin left that meeting looking very rattled.”

“I almost feel bad for him.”

“Ugh. Get a grip and cut that out, girl. You have no idea how incredibly therapeutic it was for the whole paralegal department to vent about Westin. The best part was that Mr. Howard just listened and took notes. If a man ever listened to me that attentively on a date, I’d jump his bones.”

You commiserated with her about Westin, and let the conversation drift back to the latest gossip from the office. When you finally hung up, you stood over the mess on your desk and examined the damage. It was littered with a treasure trove of mundane artifacts - five khaki file folders, a tin of mints, sticky notes, a travel tube of cologne, a power bank and phone charger, airpods, reading glasses, and three hundred dollars in cash. The files were what drew your eye.

Curiosity was killing you, especially about Joe Hansen’s last will and testament, but you forced yourself to set them aside. It would be a betrayal of trust and if the situation were reversed, you’d be offended if Lloyd went through your private documents without asking. You surveyed the items you’d strewn over the desk from Lloyd’s briefcase and sighed, dipping your hand into the last, smaller back pocket of the briefcase in search of the missing interview notes. Your fingers brushed against paper and for a moment, excitement surged, but instead of papers you pulled out an envelope.

Inside were three laminated bookmarks.

They were delicate and beautiful. One featured a bold splash of golden petals with a dark center like a miniature sun in bloom - a long stemmed Black-Eyed Susan. The other two flowers weren’t familiar. You inspected the bookmark that contained pale lavender flowers with tinges of blue, then examined the third marker, which featured pink petaled blossoms. Frustratingly, it was another flower you didn’t recognize. The pink flower reminded you of Prairie Phlox and Fire Pink, except to the best of your knowledge, no one had ever crossed those plants. There was no receipt in the envelope but when you flipped it over, the outside read: “Josephine.”

Your eyebrows raised. Josephine? Who the hell was Josephine? Why had she given Lloyd pressed flower bookmarks, and more confusingly, why had he accepted them?

It crossed your mind a second later that the floral bookmarks might be a gift for you. That was a logical enough explanation but it didn’t hold up to closer inspection. Lloyd took pride in being an excellent gift-giver. He knew your tastes, interests, and preferences. The bookmark with the Black-Eyed Susans would be the kind of gift he would give you, but the other two were decidedly not.

Using the plant identification app on your phone, you scanned the bookmarks to identify the flowers. The lavender flower was Common Camas and the pink was Elkhorn Clarkia. You didn’t recognize either name and when you checked the map of their native range, it made sense why you wouldn’t - they were native to the upper Northwest. Lloyd must have gotten these in Idaho. Frowning at the bookmarks, your mood slid from confused to suspicious, then darkened.

Your chest was tight and your heart pounded out a chorus of eighth notes, turning your skin hot. The floral bookmarks weren’t something Lloyd would keep without a good reason. On the envelope, you inspected the handwriting of the name ‘Josephine’ and confirmed it was Lloyd’s. Who was Josephine? Did she live in Idaho or had she traveled there for his father’s funeral? Did they spend time together while he was there? Was she the real reason he’d neglected to call you while he was gone? There was a horrible feeling in your gut that you couldn’t ignore.

The realization that there were parts of Lloyd that you were completely closed off from hit like a slap in the face. There were sides to him you’d never seen. He had a past that transcended the three years you’d shared. Of course that was normal, but the utter lack of awareness you had of Lloyd’s past wasn’t normal at all. If you knew who Josephine was, maybe these bookmarks wouldn’t make your heart slam against your rib cage. You’d know if she were a matronly ex-neighbor or an ex-girlfriend. That was something you ought to know, and the fact that you didn’t have a clue made your stomach churn. It seemed that beneath the veneer of trust you had in Lloyd there was an abyss of uncertainty. While your friendship had been built on healthy habits, it was painfully obvious that your romance lacked the same sturdiness. The dawning awareness that all it took was three flimsy bookmarks to fracture your relationship burned.

You took a deep breath and tucked the floral bookmarks into the envelope and returned it to the same pocket. Then you began methodically returning all the items back to their original position, careful to order them exactly how you’d found them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A strange chemical scent hung in the air. Lloyd wrinkled his nose and swallowed, grimacing at the bitter taste of rotten eggs. He stood with Zach at the chain link fence that sealed off Copper Ridge from the rest of the world, looking up at the double rows of twelve-foot high razor wire topped fencing. The sight reminded him of prison.

Decorating the fence were brightly colored posters signaling danger lay ahead.

Zach coughed into his elbow. “This place smells like my grandmother’s garden, but way, way, worse.”

“What?” Lloyd asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Her garden plot had alkaline soil, so she treated it with Lime-Sulfur every spring.” Zach coughed again, then examined the warning posters. “Arsenic, sulfur, lead, benzene, radiation… What did they do? Nuke this place?”

“That probably would’ve done less environmental damage.”

“Check those security cameras,” Zach said, tilting his chin at the gate post.

“We can assume the killer isn’t just driving up to the main gate.”

“Given what they’re containing up here, those cameras probably aren’t new.”

“He must have a more discrete method of accessing the site,” Lloyd agreed.

“So, we’re hiking the perimeter?”

“It’s due diligence. The three bodies we have prove that we’re looking for an experienced hiker who isn’t afraid of moving his victims over rough terrain.”

“The perimeter is thirteen miles and the sun’s about to go down.”

“Got an extra flashlight?”

Zach smirked, and quipped, “one is none.”

Their flashlight beams were necessary under the thick canopy of vegetation, even with the sun still shining overhead. The trees cast long shadows and stretched their fingers across the forest floor. Recently fallen leaves squished under their feet as they followed the fence line, still too wet to crunch. Crisp air whipped against his neck and Lloyd flipped up the collar of his jacket.

“I hope Princess doesn’t intend on letting your genes into her bloodline. Not after this.”

“Shut up,” Lloyd muttered.

Zach snickered. “Touched a nerve, eh?”

“You’re getting exposed to this shit right along with me, asshole.”

“Not really. I had a procedure in the 90s to ensure none of my swimmers were medal contenders.”

“For the love of all that is holy, please shut up.”

“Why didn’t you bother with a vasectomy? Nervous about someone poking around down there?” Zach asked.

“Getting clipped has never been on my agenda.”

Zach stopped abruptly. “You want kids? Really?”

“Fuck no! You of all people get why.”

“I do. Hence, the vasectomy I got at twenty.”

“I don’t want kids,” Lloyd stated.

“Your actions say otherwise,” Zach said.

“No, they don’t. All my actions say is… Why are we having this conversation?”

“What about Princess?”

“What about her?”

“Does she want kids?” Zach asked.

“How should I know?!”

“You’re dating her.”

“This is what you want to talk about right now?” Lloyd demanded.

“Does she?”

“Come on, we’re in the middle of something. Now isn’t the time.”

“What are your intentions towards Princess in the long term?”

“Zach, are you giving me the shovel talk?”

“Why would I bother digging a grave when I know this place exists? Answer the question. Where is this thing with Princess going? Are you serious about her?”

“She’s important to me, of course I’m serious.”

The blond man’s eyes sharpened. “Serious is different than being serious about her. Are you going to move in together? Get married?”

“Move in where? The townhouse? Her place? She was nearly strangled in my backyard and Aiden planted a camera at her apartment.”

“Fine, sell both places, combine funds and get a house with a yard for the kids. I’m in Thursday night golf league with a couple realtors. You want me to hook you up?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” Zach agreed cheerfully. “Look, the past three months are the happiest I’ve ever seen you. Princess, too. But I also know your track record with relationships so I need to know that you’ve got your head screwed on straight when it comes to her.”

“I appreciate that,” Lloyd said.

“Good. When are you going to talk to her about moving in together?”

“Have you always been this pushy?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t know, damn it!”

“You’ve been dating for three months. Figure it out,” Zach said.

Lloyd sighed. “Three months isn’t very long.”

“Sure, but the math is different for you two. You were friends first.”

“She’s my best friend. I don’t want to see her hurt. Not by a stalker, or anything else.”

“Look, Lloyd, Princess is a good friend to me, too. I don’t want to see her hurt either. She’s going to need a commitment from you soon and what I’m trying to ask is this: how close are you to giving her that?”

“You know my track record with relationships,” Lloyd deflected.

“I also know your track record with Princess. You’ve never disappointed her before and I’d prefer not to see you screw that up.”

“I care about her, Zach. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone, and I don’t want to lose her or hurt her.”

“But you’re afraid you will.”

“My issues with women are legendary.”

Zach snorted. “Let’s not pretend they’re just with women. You’ve got issues with everything.”

“I’m not the white picket fence happily ever after type of guy.”

Silence descended, lingering in the air, as if Zach was waiting for Lloyd to continue. He gritted his teeth and held his peace, refusing to add fuel to the conversation.

“Figure it out, man. Lay your cards on the table soon, because Princess deserves to be with someone who’s all in.”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but-”

“What? You’re waiting for the right time to make up a bullshit excuse and end things with her? Once we catch her stalker, and we will, you can’t just turn around and break her heart-”

“Shut up.”

Zach sneered. “Like hell I will. Don’t tell me-”

Lloyd grabbed the Texan by the collar and covered his mouth, silencing him.

“Shut up and listen, damn it!”

Zach froze, alertness sweeping over him in an instant. They waited, silent. From somewhere ahead of them in the woods came a rustling sound.

“You heard that?” Lloyd murmured.

“Yeah.”

Lloyd reached into his jacket and pulled out a Glock 19 while Zach took a .38 pistol from his boot. The gun clicked as Zach chambered a bullet.

“Turn off your flashlight,” Zach whispered.

From ahead there was a flurry of rustling accompanied by the sounds of breaking twigs and branches.

“An animal wouldn’t make that much noise,” Lloyd muttered.

“Whatever it is, we’re not alone out here.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You struggled to focus on the computer screen. It was 10:30 and your eyes stung from too much screen time. Blinking against the dryness, you watched the rapidly moving footage flashing on the monitor. You’d shut off the lights in the office and re-played Nguyen’s interview at 4 times the normal speed. The rapid fire images helped to exaggerate changes in body language, which was what you’d decided to focus on.

After attempting Lloyd’s technique of listening to the interview without visuals, you’d come to your senses and realized that while Lloyd could listen more accurately than anyone you’d ever met, you needed visuals, especially body language. Therefore, you turned off the audio and sped up the footage, watching Nguyen speak, noting his facial expressions and movements.

Your eyes watered in protest at the excessive amount of blue light they were enduring and you squeezed them shut.

When they opened again, the laptop screen wasn’t as bright. You tapped the trackpad and the screen brightened. The laptop was plugged into the wall socket next to the desk. You leaned down and double checked the connection, then looked at the icon menu on the bottom right corner of the screen. The battery was at fifty percent and the plugged-in symbol was conspicuously absent. Your eyes darted to the digital clock on the wall and found its dial frozen, displaying the time as 12:00 AM.

Your stomach dropped.

No electricity. Shit. How long? You had no illusions that the source of the electrical disruption was anything other than man-made. There was no heat wave, thunderstorm, or high winds. You moved to the window and peaked through the blinds to see that the lights were still functioning in the shopping mall. Zach’s suite appeared to be the only one without electricity.

You grabbed for your phone, only to find that the spot where it had been was bare. Goosebumps broke out on your skin. The room was eerily silent. Your heart raced as you scanned the deep shadows and debated whether to run or scream.

“Sorry to drop by after visiting hours.”

The voice from the darkness was calm, almost conversational, but laced with an undercurrent of humor that was more terrifying than malice. You lurched back, eyes focused on the barely discernible silhouette of a man standing in the corner of the room.

“Who are you?” you gasped, the catch in your breath turning your voice into a whisper.

The figure moved and you lept backwards, then screamed when your back slammed into the solid barrier of the wall. A man stepped out of the shadows, into the pool of light from the east window. He had sandy blond hair and cerulean eyes. Something about him triggered a wave of recognition, but you struggled to place him in your memory.

“Hello, Princess.”

Your muscles bunched and your nostrils flared at his casual use of your nickname. The man raised his hands in surrender. Despite his overture of peace, you didn’t relax.

“My name is Court Gentry. We met briefly in Singapore.”

“When and where?” you challenged.

“The casino bar. It was your birthday.”

The memory came flooding back. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you. Alone.”

Hair rose on the back of your neck, but you defiantly tilted your chin.

“I know Lloyd,” Court said, taking your lack of response for confusion.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Why are you here?”

“Because Lloyd refused to help me.”

“Sorry?”

“I need someone to help me get into Bishop & Howard,” Court said.

“By ‘get in,’ I’m going to assume you actually mean ‘break in.’”

Court’s lips twitched into a split second smile that faded into seriousness.

“There’s a spy in the firm,” he said.

“And you know this, how?”

“I keep tabs on Lloyd. I assume you’re aware of why?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“A few months ago I was on a job and… came into possession of a laptop. There was a reference to Bishop & Howard on the contents of that device, so I followed up. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I’d uncovered a plot to steal top secret information from the U.S. military.”

“You thought Lloyd was behind it, didn’t you?”

Court inclined his head, conceding the point. “It wouldn’t be the first time he betrayed his country, Princess.”

Your eyes narrowed. “That’s why you were in Singapore.”

“Yes. Events in D.C. from the law firm proved Lloyd innocent, so I approached him and asked for help. His answer was a very vehement ‘no.’”

“He doesn’t do that sort of thing anymore.”

Court nodded. “But that puts me in a bind, because the spy is making his final transmission tonight and I need someone to help me get past security. That’s all I’m asking, Princess. If you can get me to the sixth floor of the firm-”

“Bishop is the spy?!”

“No. He’s not behind this. I already cleared him as a suspect.”

“Executives and administration are the only departments on the sixth floor. What kind of government secrets would they keep up there?”

“There’s another department on the sixth floor,” Court said. “Patents.”

“Right. I knew that, but there’s only like five people in the patent department. They keep to themselves and everyone else kind of forgets they exist.”

“Will you help me?” Court asked.

“What, exactly, am I helping you with? You never told me what these secrets I’m supposed to be protecting were.”

The blond man studied you, weighing his words, before he spoke.

“It’s a Department of Defense project called Project Prometheus. Whenever the government enlists private groups to develop top secret technology, they allow them to file patents on their inventions with a private firm. Only once the technology is de-classified do the patents become public record.”

“What’s Project Prometheus?”

Court sighed. “If I tell you, will you help me?”

“Maybe.”

“Project Prometheus is next generation jet fuel. It’s designed to power the upcoming F-37 Valkyrie fighter planes. The spy at B&H already sent information on the chemical structure of the fuel and how to synthesize it. All that’s left for him to transmit is the engineering specs of the jet’s fuel system.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think the cat’s already out of the bag if they have all that.”

“It’d be more accurate to say that they have the cat, but no bag. Without the right bag to put the cat in… ka-boom,” Court said, illustrating an explosion with his hands.

“Why are you reaching out to me now?”

“Because the spy contacted his handler today to let him know that he’d be sending the rest of the documents at midnight tonight.”

“All I would have to do is get you past security?”

“You have access to the sixth floor,” Court said.

“What about the security around the patent department? I’ve seen their door. It looks like Fort Knox.”

“Doors, plural. I have a plan for that. All we need to do is get in, set up some equipment and hole up in your office while we wait for the spy to show.”

“Are you going to turn him in or capture him?”

“My goal tonight is only to block his transmission and learn his identity. Once I have that, I’ll go to the FBI. Confronting him on my own would be counterproductive. If the authorities can get him to flip on the Chinese, that would be the best outcome.”

Lloyd would kill you for even considering this, but at the same time, you felt compelled to help Court. He’d go after the spy with or without you and his chances of success were a lot higher if you went along.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

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Next - Chapter XXVII

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