#night hunter fic

[mdemontespan1667]

STUPID GIRL

BLIND SPOT (3)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

THE LONG WALK (1)

JANE DOE (2)

18+ ONLY

SOFT DARK WALTER MARSHALL X READER

SUMMARY: YOU'RE JUST DOING YOUR JOB. TOO BAD SOMEONE DOESN'T AGREE.

(I moved the dates of this to the current year instead of 2018 so hopefully my dates match. I used what character information I could find for Walter and either filled it in with the actor's info or just winged it since no explanation was ever given for his accent. I did my best to research the neighborhoods and streets mentioned. If I made a mistake I apologize.)

SERIES WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON/GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/TORTURE/DEATH/DESCRIPTIONS OF DEAD BODIES/VAGINAL SEX/ORAL SEX/ANAL SEX/REFERENCES TO SEXUAL ASSAULT/REFERENCES TO MURDER/STALKING/CHOKING/SLAPPING

“Detective Marshall, Is this the 8th victim of the Hennepin Hatchet?” 

“No comment.”

The man bristled at the name, barely concealed disdain in his expression.

You didn’t like the name any better.

Giving murderers cutesy names took the focus off the victims.

But the Press, yourself included, had to call this psycho something.

“Get out of my fucking crime scene”

“I’m not in your fucking crime scene.”

You gestured to the yellow police tape, flapping in the bitter wind, which you were currently behind, barely. 

Detective Marshall grunted, clearly annoyed.

“I’m just trying to do my job. The public has a right to know if a serial killer is operating in Minneapolis.”

Crossing his arms, he fixed you with a bored stare. 

“What makes you think this is serial? Prostitutes get killed all the time. Hazards of the profession.”

“You’re joking right?”

You rolled your eyes.

“All the victims were last seen in the Hennepin area, all petite blondes, all sexually assaulted, stabbed and mutilated. There’s no way in hell this isn’t the same guy.”

“No comment.”

The dark haired Detective walked away, effectively dismissing you.

“Can you confirm Madison Harper was missing her left breast?”

Turning back he lumbered toward you.

Oh shit.

Detective Marshall was a veritable bear of a man, with a rumored temper to match.

And you?

You’d just poked him, big time. 

“Where did you get that information?”

“No comment,” you sassed.

 Apparently you had no sense of self-preservation.

“If you don’t get the fuck out of here,” he growled, “I’m gonna have your ass arrested for interfering with a police investigation.”

“C’mon. Give me something, anything.”

You tried your best to bat your eyes.

“Officer Barton,” he shouted to a uniform, “I need you to..”

“Ok, Ok,” you threw up your hands, “I’m going.”

You stomped to your ancient, beige Subaru. 

“Fucking prick.”

Driving away, you shivered, convinced the killer was just getting started.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I sincerely hope you're hitting submit as we speak.”

“I’m working on it.”

You glowered at your laptop, its blank Google Docs page taunting you.

“Uh, you know deadline’s in 3 hours?”

‘Yeah Brent, I know. I’m..I’m working on it.”

You hit the red dot, ending the call.

Brent was a great colleague, an even better friend.

SInce moving to Minneapolis a year and a half ago he was the only person you had gotten close to.

 Even so, the last thing you needed right now was more pressure.

FUCK FUCK FUCK 

Milton Turnbaldt, the editor of the Digital Division at the StarTribune, had finally moved you from Special Interest to the Crime Beat.

It was the next step in “THE PLAN” you’d mapped out since graduation. 

Imagining yourself a modern day Helen Thomas, visions of Pulitzers had danced in your mind. 

Reality had been a bit different.

Two years writing bar reviews for Bar Fly and one disastrous year at Chicago Suburban Family had been followed by a three year stint at the Chicago Sun Times, where the closest you got to reporting anything was letting Maintenance know a lightbulb was out in the Ladies room.

Getting hired at the  StarTribune had seemed like a dream come true, even if you’d had to move to Minnesota. 

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK 

It was obvious this woman was the 8th victim. 

Problem was every other reporter knew it, even if the cops refused to acknowledge the fact.

Your one advantage was your intuition. 

The women had to have been comfortable with the killer, therefore, he was most likely good looking, charming and came off as harmless. Every victim had voluntarily left their comfort zone, something sex workers usually refused to do. 

The pre- and post-mortem mutilation meant the killer felt confident enough in his surroundings to spend hours with the women, unconcerned about noise or the mess. His secondary location had to be isolated enough for his purpose but close enough to Hennepin Ave that the victims had been willing to take a chance.

Unofficial autopsy reports on each victim listed copious amounts of lube found in the vaginal and anal cavities. It wasn’t unusual for sex workers to use lube but this seemed excessive. The ME had attributed the internal micro-tears and bruising to the sexual assault. That, coupled with the lube, had you leaning in a different direction: The killer was having sex with the dying women. 

Too bad you couldn’t prove any of it.

Neither could you publish the information about the missing body part or lube without totally outing your source at the morgue, although that ship had kinda sailed when you showed your hand to the detective.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK 

Praying for Divine intervention, you started typing.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you think Claude?”

The overweight Tabby cat yawned.

“Thanks for the support. I’ll remember that next time you want a treat.”

Looking at your reflection in the full length bathroom mirror, you critically assessed your outfit: short, pleated black polyester tennis skirt, metallic silver cowl neck top, dingy, thigh high, white spiked boots, and a cropped, pink fake fur bomber jacket.

Heavy eye makeup, red lips and purposely mussed hair completed the disguise.

This classy ensemble, courtesy of the local thrift shop, had cost you a grand total of $53.98, an amount you really couldn’t afford.

But since the police, one surly detective in particular, weren’t talking you were just gonna have to find someone who would. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your feet were numb. 

Whether it was from the insanely high heels or the -2 degrees (F) windchill you didn’t know.

Or care.

After walking the Hennepin Ave circuit for 3 hours you had a whole lot of nothing. 

The sex workers definitely knew something.

Clustered in groups of 3 or 4, they murmured to themselves, cell phone cameras flashing, warning potential customers they were being watched, however, no one was willing to talk to a stranger. 

A midnight blue, extended cab pickup pulled up, idling at the curb. 

“Come here.”

“Uh, sorry, I’m..uh.. off the clock.”

He wasn’t the first guy who’d tried to engage you.

Maybe your refusal to leave with a client had given you away.

“Come here or I’ll bring you here.”

Tentatively you stepped closer.

“I said I’m not…Are you fucking kidding me Marshall?”

He sat hunched over the steering wheel, eyes blazing at you.

Beyond annoyed, you hissed, “Go away.”

“Get in the truck.”

“No.” 

“Get in the goddamn truck now.”

Mimicking his earlier behavior, you crossed your arms.

“You can’t tell me what to….”

The cab of the truck flooded with light as he opened the driver side door.

“Fine!”

In a huff, you climbed in, fastening your seatbelt before throwing him a scowl.

He ignored you, smoothly merging with the heavy Friday night traffic.

“Where’d you park that piece of shit car?”

You refused to answer, making a show of sulking.

“Answer me or..”

“Or what?” you interrupted, “You had no right harassing me, asshole.”

“Excuse me?” 

His harsh tone was  a clear indicator you’d pissed him off.

“Your car?”

“It’s at my apartment. I took an Uber.”

The Detective sighed.

“Exactly what the hell were you trying to accomplish out there?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“You’re no help so I…”

“You what? You decided to play fucking dress up? Do you have any idea how dangerous the streets are? Some freak is killing prostitutes and your stupid ass is running around pretending to be one.”

“Are you finished?”

He clenched his jaw, cheek ticking.

“Contrary to your belief I’m not stupid. I can take care of myself.”

You reached in your bag producing a sleek, highly illegal taser.

“Plus I have this. And yes, I know how to use it.”

Taking a sharp left turn he headed South.

“Um, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“How do you….”

“Born and raised in the Gold Coast area of Chicago. Only child. Undergrad at University of Chicago, Masters in Communication from Loyola, which your ridiculously rich mother paid for. You worked at two small time local papers then the Chicago Sun where you, what? Got coffee for three years? You took a job at the StarTribune 18 months ago writing online fluff. You live in the East Phillips neighborhood,  don’t drink, smoke or do drugs and generally have no social life. I like to know who I’m dealing with.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, more than a little angry he’d checked you out.

“Pretty good,” you retorted, “My turn.”

“Born in the Channel Islands. Strict Catholic upbringing, four siblings, three boys, one girl. Attended St Michael’s Prep before transferring to Stowe School your Sophomore year, sorry, you call it Year 11. Joined the London Metropolitan Police Force in 2008, the same year you married Angie Stultz. She was interning for Warrener Stewart right?”

You rambled on, not waiting for an answer.

“Your daughter Faye was born the next year. Four years later you were promoted to the Criminal Investigations Department. You started out in Street Crime, then Organized Crime, until landing in Major Crimes in 2015. January of 2017 you and the little family moved to Minneapolis, where your wife was from but you didn’t start with the police department here for another 5 months so I’m assuming you were a house husband until your emigration papers cleared. Apparently you weren’t a very good husband, house or otherwise, cause your wife filed for divorce under “Irreconcilable DIfferences” a little over a year ago. You live alone, don’t smoke or do drugs and are generally recognized as a bully. I like to know who I’m dealing with.”

You flashed a Chesire grin.

Uh, oh.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead, buried 6 feet down, “Here lies a stupid idiot who wouldn’t keep her mouth shut” carved in the marker. 

“Um, this is me.”

You pointed to a two story brick building, an empty storefront on the first floor, your studio apartment on the second.

“Why do you live in this shithole? With mommy’s money you could be living in the Carlyle or Legacy.”

“I wanted to prove I can make it on my own. And this neighborhood? It’s not as bad as people think. The Pizzeria over there? The old, Italian couple that own it let anyone who needs to use the free wifi. On the weekends they stay open late and offer a free slice and drink so the kids have a safe place to go.”

You became animated, warming to the topic.

“Mrs Freemantle, in the brownstone next door, invites me over three or four times a month. Her oxtail soup and mac and cheese are freaking amazing. She doesn't get around too well so I run errands for her once or twice a week.”

You peered out the windshield.

“Those two guys on the steps, the ones you gave the stink eye to? Andre and Tony? They fixed my car for a six pack and a pizza the last time it crapped out.”

“Probably with stolen parts,” he mumbled.

“I bought the parts, you judgemental ass.” you spat.

Jerking the handle, you exited the vehicle.

Snow swirled in the open door.

“People here care more about each other than anyone ever did in the swanky condo’s I grew up in. Thanks for the ride.”

You flung the door closed with a thud.

Trekking up the sidewalk, you quickly unlocked the outside door, your mind already on a molten hot shower.

“Honey, I’m home,” you announced to the tiny studio, tossing your bag and coat on the fifth-hand orange and green couch. 

You stretched, exhausted, looking forward to…..

It happened so fast.

One second you were contemplating splurging an extra ten minutes in the shower, the next you were slammed against the kitchen wall, Detective Marshall’s forearm across your neck, other hand over your  mouth.

You flailed at him, hitting and kicking. 

It was like fighting a marble statue.

He leaned in, leg slotted between yours. 

“Taser ain’t much help now is it.”

You pushed at his arm.

“How fucking stupid are you? You didn’t even lock your fucking door. Anyone…”

You bit his fingers, drawing blood. 

He let go, surprised by your counterattack. 

“Get the hell out of…..”

His hand closed around your throat.

Your chest heaved from adrenaline, his booming heartbeat matching yours. 

Without warning, his lips crashed to yours.

The kiss was desperate, all consuming, his beard scratching your delicate skin.

His hand slipped under your top and cheap push-up bra, palming your breast, rough fingers pinching the already pebbled nipple.

The kiss deepened to something dark, Marshall taking control.

You rocked your hips against his muscled thigh, your core on fire.

Snaking down your belly, he slid his hand beneath the waistband of you skirt, callused digits gliding through your damp, plumped slit.

He circled your clit, applying light pressure with each pass, thumb randomly sweeping the bundle of nerves. 

Lost in a sea of sensation, you mewled, the sound swallowed by his warm, searching mouth.

“Tell me to stop.”

Afraid he wouldn’t stop, even more afraid he would, you remained silent as you unzipped his jeans, freeing his heavy cock.

Gathering the sticky wetness from the tip, you stroked his length.

“Fuck.”

The whispered obscenity went straight to your cunt, fresh slick coating his hand. 

He tore your black tights in one motion, leaving you bare.

Marshall lifted your leg, curling it around his waist, his cock poised at you sopping entrance.

“Last chance.”

You draped your arms around his shoulders, balancing yourself.

Taking that as a sign, he pressed into you, you channel stretching painfully.

You cried out, the burn almost too much.

His lips latched to yours, tongues sparing until his cock was fully ensheathed in your heat. 

He pulled out, briefly hesitated, before thrusting in again.

Breaking the kiss, you buried your face in his neck, fingers tangling in his dark curls.

He fucked you now, hips pistoning, his fingers digging into your flesh.

Marshall’s feral grunts mingled with your needy moans.

Tendrils of electricity surged along your nerves.

He lifted your leg higher, changing the angle of penetration, his cock hitting the soft, spongy spot repeatedly. 

“Please,..please..” you choked out.

“I’ve got you.”

You came with a sob, hips pumping in time with his, cunt clenching, the sheer intensity of your orgasm frightening, wave after wave threatening to drown you. 

He drove into you faster, chasing his own release. 

All you could do was hold on, tears staining his coarse, coal gray sweater.

You felt him swell, hips stuttering.

His muscles flexed as he came, pushing you against the wall, milky ropes of cum splashing your walls.

Fevered lust dissipating, he rested his cheek on your head.

Untangling limbs, Marshall fastened his jeans.

He didn’t stay, instead turning towards the door.

Hand on the brass knob, he paused.

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.”

His words froze the question in your throat.

Door closed, you collapsed to the floor, head bowed, knees to chest.

“What the hell just happened.” 

@xoxabs88xox @imanuglywombat @fanfic-fangirl @caffiend-queen @alexakeyloveloki @americasass81 @lokislastlove @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @sweeterthanthis @ironlady1993 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jennmurawski13 @starynighty @sapphirescrolls @xsapphirescrollsx @sagechanoafterdark @momc95 @jtargaryen18 @demonsandpieohmy @dangertoozmanykids101 @lizzystuffsthings @nildespirandum @shikin83 @sinceimetyou @buckybarnesandmarvel @imdarkinme @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @titty-teetee @saiyanprincessswanie @littlefreya

#SOFT DARK WALTER MARSHALL X READER #SOFT DARK WALTER MARSHALL AND READER #SOFT DARK WALTER MARSHALL (AU) X READER #SOFT DARK WALTER MARSHALL (AU) AND READER #WALTER MARSHALL X READER #WALTER MARSHALL AND READER #WALTER MARSHALL #SOFT DARK WALTER MASHALL #NIGHT HUNTER AU #NIGHT HUNTER FIC #DARK NIGHT HUNTER FIC #HENRY CAVILL #HENRY CAVILL CHARACTERS

[peyton-warren]

Hidden Sun Part 2

Characters: Walter Marshall, Bartender!Reader Fandom: Night Hunter Word count: 4723 Type: Angst, fluff, smut Warning: 18+ only!  Language, vague hints at bad relationships for Reader, awkward Reader, Walter's inability to talk to women, and then PIV sex.

Author’s Note: Thank you to @adulting-sucks for your never ending support and friendship. I would not have finished this (or kept from deleting it) if it wasn't for you. It feels good to have something to put out into the world again though, I have to admit.

Summary: After Walter saves you from the unwanted attentions of a bar patron, he does the gentlemanly thing and escorts you home. Secrets are revealed and fun times are had by all.

Ask Box: Open

Masterlist

Do not click on KEEP READING if you are under 18. Your consumption of media is your responsibility.

Part 1

Burying his hands into his pockets, Marshall gestures for you to lead the way. You nod and start down the dark alley, an awkward silence growing between the two of you. The only noises are the crunch of snow under your feet and distant din of the town. You fish your keys back out of your pocket as you approach your car.  "This is me." Immediately you chastise yourself for sounding so ridiculous.  Of course this is you.  It’s the only car in the frigging alley.  Why did this man make you so flustered?  

Hitting the button on your remote, you are not terribly surprised to find the door opened for you by your escort.  You give him a soft smile as you throw your bag across to the passenger seat.  “Thanks.” 

You see him nod once in your peripheral view before turning towards him.  “I’m in the black truck,” he explains, his hand waving back the way you had just walked, you assume in the direction of the massive truck he usually parks down the block from the bar, not that you have paid attention to such things.  “I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there ok.”

You nod once and grip your keys tighter, suddenly uncertain of yourself.  You chide yourself, this time for noting where he normally parks when he comes to the bar.  Part of you tries to recall other regulars’ vehicles, which comes up with only a few beat up cars of your older patrons.  

“You sure you're ok?” Marshall asks, breaking you out of your thought cycle, making you jump again.  

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and nod.  “Yeah, sorry.”

A hand lands on your arm again, warm and comforting even through all the layers you wore.  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Marshall assures you, his voice firm and closer than it was a second ago.  Opening your eyes, you yelp softly, finding his eyes not that far from your face, searching for something.  Unsure what he is looking for, you can't help but stare back, your eyes coursing over his features.   The blue eyes that you could swim in for hours, the set of his jaw under his full, virile beard.  His lips....

Clenching his teeth, Marshall lets out a harsh sigh, leaning a hair further into your space before taking a step back, gesturing for you to follow him.   “Come on, let's get you home.”

“But my car-”

Wedging himself between you and the door, making you step back to give him room, he grabs your bag from the car.  “We will worry about that tomorrow.”  His body brushes against yours making your breath catch in your throat. 

Unable to resist his insistent hand on your back, you watch him sling your bag over his shoulder and walk back through the new dusting of snow that has fallen since you started working a few hours ago.  The two of you walk in silence again, you both lost in your own thoughts.  You pass the door to the bar and you spy the dark truck in question just a few vehicles down.  And again for the millionth time tonight, Walter gets the door for you.  A girl could get used to this, you think to yourself before you again try to convince yourself the good detective is just being a nice guy, that there’s nothing more to his actions.  

After depositing you and your bag in the passenger seat, he gives you a soft smile.  “Do you need me to help with your seat belt?” he asks in an even tone, one you’ve heard others use with skittish animals.  

“Oh!” It snaps you out of your head, sending your hands into a flurry of activity, reaching over your shoulder.  “Oh no, I can do that.”  However you fail to grab the buckle in your haste.  After your third attempt, Marshall takes pity on you, sliding the buckle in your palm.  You bite your bottom lip and give him an uncertain smile.  “Thanks.”

He just nods as he closes the door. You watch him stride around the massive truck in just a few sure steps as you somehow manage to latch the belt in place.  He opens his door, and slides into the driver's seat, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.  You give him a small tinsey tiny smile before clasping your hands in your lap, looking out the windshield.  

The truck rumbles to life, and Marshall reaches for knobs on the dash, sending warmish air into the cab, before ensuring the vents are pointed in your general direction.  Satisfied with it, he yanks the cap from his head before dropping the truck into gear.  “Where to?”

You manage to give him directions to your home with minimal issues, the tension seeming to grow with every second, though you are certain it's just your mind and body reading way too much into your savior’s actions.  In less than ten minutes, he pulls into your driveway, and puts the truck into park, and you are quick to unbuckle.  “Thank you,” you gush, scrambling for your bag.  “I appreciate the ride,” you continue to verbally vomit as you clamber for the door handle, your eyes following your hands.  “Oh and the whole saving me from that creep,” you say over your shoulder, as the door opens.  “I appreciate that the most,” you continue, not really letting up on the words that fly from your lips.

You feel a warm hand land on your upper arm before you can slide out of the truck.  “You are welcome,” he speaks softly, a small grin on his face as his hand gently squeezes .  “I’m glad I was there to help.  You want me to talk to Murphy about-”

You shake your head, not wanting to be any more of a bother than you already were. “No, it’ll be ok.  That rarely happens.”

“But what happens when it happens again?” he asks, giving you pause.  “Because it will happen again.  Men are...,” he says with a humorless short laugh, his face full of concern.  

You are silent, unsure how to respond.  Ignoring your unfortunate past relationships, you still knew men, especially when drinking, were prone to be disgusting pigs and tonight wasn't the first time you had been harassed or even manhandled by a customer.  But you needed the job, and you didn’t want Murphy to not trust you on your own on Tuesdays.   

Your view refocuses onto Walter’s face and you find him waiting for you to respond.  You don't know how to answer him, and opt to just shrug your shoulders, drawing an annoyed sigh from his lips.  “Look,” he starts.  “The PD have self defense classes for women every couple of weeks.  Would you attend one of those?”  

Again you shrug, feeling very uncomfortable about him fussing over you, feeling unworthy of his efforts.  Why does he suddenly care about me?  “I’ll be fine,” you try to assure him.  You watch his eyes as a number of emotions cross his face, and they fly by too fast for you to identify any of  them.  

“I’ll still worry,” he admits, softly, before looking out the windshield.  A moment of silence fills the truck.  As you think about slipping out of the truck, Marshall turns back to you.  “Just think about it,” he tries, pulling out his wallet.  “Call me when you decide.”  

Your eyes focus on the business card held out to you, as if it was something that might harm you.  You feel silly for taking more of this well meaning detective’s time than was necessary so you take a deep breath, nodding as you pinch the card between your fingers.  “I will,” you promise as you slip it into your bag.  “Thanks,” you reiterate before dropping to the sidewalk, with a small smile.  “Again.”

Before he could move or say anything else, you shut the door and jog up to your porch.  You feel the lapis irises on you as you unlock your front door.  Once the door gives way, you glance over your shoulder to see the hulking man leaning across his truck cab to watch you out the passenger window.  Waving three fingers at him from around your keys, your breath catches as you hear the truck ignition cut off and the cab suddenly illuminates but Marshall’s face is no longer in the window.  The sound of the truck door slamming snaps you out of your confused trance, redirecting your eyes to the large shadow stalking toward you across your yard.

“Everything ok?” you manage to ask, stammering around the butterflies filling your stomach and attempting to escape through your throat.  

Taking three stairs at once, the massive cop is in front of you in a split second, his hand reaching for your cheek.  “Tell me this is ok,” you barely register him whispering before his lips swoop in to capture yours in a burning kiss that sets you ablaze from your head to your toes. Instead of answering, afraid you wouldn’t have the breath to form words, you bury your fingers into the unbelievably soft sweater seeming to surround you, tugging him impossibly closer to you.  

One of his hands lands on your back, sliding across to hook his hand over your opposite shoulder, anchoring you to him.  The other lands on your lower back, bending you to melt against him, arching your hips into him, making you rise on your toes.  

His lips part, taking yours with them, breathing each other's air for a second before his tongue sweeps across your lower lip, sending a soft whimper cascading from your throat.  His hand clutches at your ass, scooting lower, grabbing you where the swell of your bottom meets your thigh, all but hoisting you against him.  Unable to help yourself, you kiss him back like he has the last drop of water in the back of his throat.   Keeping one hand fists in his sweater, the other settles over the back of his neck, fingers threading into the curls you find there, your fuzzy brain barely registering how soft they feel as your nails scratch against his scalp.  

That earns you a low growl that you felt in your fist against his chest more than your ears registered.  Marshall’s arms tighten around you as he stands fully, dragging you up his body, allowing all of you to feel all of him.  You involuntarily yelp, your own hands moving to his shoulders, as your legs wrap around him.  In one swift move, Walter had you pinned to the frame of your front door,  his own legs straddling the threshold, holding you in place as he devoured your mouth, the beard against your skin, sending flutters of desire through your body, the sensation new but not unpleasant.   His lips slip down your chin and you lift your head to give him access to your throat.  

“Would you like to come in?” you ask, surprising even yourself at your words.  

You feel Walter smile against you, his teeth nipping. “I’d love to,” he admits. He pulls back just a little, allowing your limbs to unfurl and you to slide back down his body.  Your feet finally hit the floor, and you hold his shoulders a second longer until you are certain your knees are working properly again.  Casting your eyes down, your hand slides from his shoulder to his chest, pushing gently so you can step out from him, swooping down to grab your keys and bag that had been tossed to the side in your hurry just a few moments ago. When you straighten back up, and glance back at Walter, you see his darkened eyes focused on your backside.  Biting your bottom lip shyly, you feel your cheeks flame again, stepping into the house. You toss your belongings on a table in the foyer, as the door closes behind you.  As you hear the lock being triggered into place, you are very aware of those eyes on you, of the man stalking slowly towards you.  You feel like prey about to be pounced on.  You swallow at the dry feeling in your throat as your eyes land on Marshall’s again, biting your lip harder, you turn fully towards him, “You want a drink?” you offer.  

With a small shake of his head, he is on you again, his warmth, his smell enveloping you again as his mouth lands back on yours.  With the surest of movements, you find your back against a wall, your hand scrambling for purchase against him, looking for an anchor point as he kisses you.  You are certain if they could, your panties would drop themselves to the floor at the feeling of his mouth against you.  You cross your legs, rubbing your thigh together, looking for some relief. The man in front of you attempts to make quick work of your jacket, tugging impatiently at the zipper.  When it gets caught in your own shirt, you have to push his hands away before he rips your warmest winter jacket.  

Tearing his mouth from yours he lays his forehead on yours, panting in your face, as you struggle yourself with getting the jacket to open. After seemingly forever and more than a handful of colorful curse words from you both, Walter snags the hem and begins pulling it up, steadily tugging it away from you to help you yank the offending garment and your shirt still attached to the teeth of the zipper goes with it.  

You feel heat spread from your cheeks down your neck as you realize you are in the hall of your home in just your sky blue lace bra and skirt.  As his eyes skitter over your exposed skin, Walter licks his bottom lip before dragging his eyes back to yours, rushing in to seal his lips over yours. You tangle both hands into his hair, the feral feel of him pressing you against the wall sending your senses into overdrive. Feeling the skin of fingers against your skin on your sides, you whine against him, your own hands seeking his warmth under his sweater. Impatiently you pull it up, pushing it up his ribs, your fingers mapping his body, the grooves in his skin, the hair that brushes against your digits.  

Walter kisses your neck, pushing your hair out of the way as he allows you to touch him, his skin seeming to ripple at your touch.  His hands reach for your hips, tightening around them, cementing them in place as he arches his hips into you.  Your head falls back against the wall at the feel of him hard against your molten, cloth covered core.  

Keeping you pinned to the wall, Walter manages to slide one hand down the outer edge of your thigh from your hip to your knee, making you sigh softly.  His hand finds its way between your legs up the inside of your thigh, your skirt long since bunched around your waist.  

You let out a shuddering breath, your skin dancing under his tortuously slow movement. As his fingers ghost over the inside edge of your panties, you mutter his name, earning you a growl from the monster of a man in front of you.  “Say it again,” he says heatedly.  Licking your lips you do as he asks, your fingers and arms tightening around him at the feel of him bucking harder against you.  

Marshall lifts his head from your chest, pressing his forehead to yours, both of you seeming to gasp for air.  “Bed?” he asks. “Unless you’re ok with this happening here.”  He gives you a devilish smile with a raised eyebrow as he ruts against you again. A whimper escapes at the feel of him, and the thought of him having you right here.  It was not the worst idea you had heard all night, but you nod your head further up the hallway.  “Second door on the left,” you offer with a small smile. 

Matching your smile with a more wolfish variety, Walter darts in to kiss you again, his lips hard against yours, his teeth sharp against your lips.  His tongue slides over yours, sending a cacophony of soft noises from your throat, the butterflies that were swirling in your stomach on the porch pushing the whimpers.  

You are unaware you have moved until he lays you on the soft bed.  Unwilling to let him go, your hands knot into his sweater, dragging him down on top of you.  Walter follows your lead, crawling over you.  One of his hands lands on the bed beside your head as the other glides over your side, up your ribs with such gentleness it makes you quake.  His knee comes up to press against your clothed pussy, your hips buck up against him, pressing your throbbing clit into the muscle of his leg.  

“Off,” you command, pulling at his sweater.  With one last peck on your lips, Walter stands to his full height at the foot of your bed, dwarfing you with his size. Licking your lips, you lean up on your elbows to watch him closely as he grabs the back of neck and pulls it over his head in one swift movement before tossing it haphazardly to the side.  Your eyes roam over his chest, your fingers twitching at the sight of the hair covering him, wanting to reacquaint with the feeling.  

As he smirks down at you, you sit up full, reaching for his belt, eyes never leaving his.  The blue is gone, his eyes are dark with want, his giant paw reaching out to cup your jaw as you kiss his belly.  Your fingers slip the leather of his belt through the buckle, leaving it, and his badge and empty holster, to dangle from his pants as you open the top button.  Tracing your tongue over the soft skin of his lower belly, you are rewarded with an appreciative growl and his hand tightening against your jaw.  It feels as if he held back from moving your mouth where he desired you the most. You oblige, while watching his face, mouthing his hard cock through the black jeans he was wearing.  You are treated with a low growl that becomes louder as you add teeth to the mixture, his hips pushing him closer to you. Turning your head, you make sure to catch the flap of his fly between your teeth briefly as you pull away, scraping over his clothed hard on.  

“Minx.”  The tone and inflection from his lips, really from his throat, cause your legs to try to close, your pussy clenching tight at his praise, further dampening the scrap of cloth that barely covers your intimate bits.  Instead of shutting, they simply contract on either side of his thighs. When you start to move to draw them up, Walter catches your left knee, holding you in place.  “You going somewhere?” he asks as he tugs the zipper down slowly, drawing your eyes from his face down to his hand.

You shake your head.  “No,” you barely squeak out, before licking your lips. With a firm squeeze on your knee that told you to stay where you were, Walter slips his pants off his hips, letting them slide down his thighs. The tight fabric of his boxer briefs hid very little, both of his size and the cut of his leg muscles. Bottom lip tucked under teeth, your eyes focused on his cock, you miss the removal of his shoes and pants.  It isn't until his finger hooks under your chin that you look up at him, blinking as you refocus your eyes.  

That predatory look on his face only intensifies, making you all but whimper and cower.  Cradling your jaw in his hand and keeping you in place as he dips in to recapture your mouth, flattening you against the bed in a split second.  You both groan loudly as he slots himself between your legs, his hard length pressed to your soaked slit.  Your kiss reaches almost a fever pitch, the nips of teeth, the smoothing of tongues, the adoration of lips as you hump each other, your hips moving in perfect concert with each other.     

Your fingers curl into the hair on the back of his head, while the other scrape over his back, clinging to him as if he didn’t already have you pinned to the bed.  Each roll of his hips all pushes the air from your lungs, contributing to the lightheadedness you feel, adding to the exhilaration.  Walter’s hands dig into your hips, keeping you in place as he seemed to try to fuck you through the layers of your undergarments.  Ripping your lips from his, you gasp for air as you bite over his furry jaw, down his neck.  A whimper tumbles from you as his hand finds its way under the waistband of your panties, his fingers immediately coming in contact with the copious amount of slick.  

“Fuck me, love,” he growled.  “You are soaked.”

Nipping at his collar bone, you whisper a secret.  “I’ve been wet since you threw that asshole out of the bar.”

“I would have done that months ago if that's what would have gotten your attention,” he admits, his tone catching your attention more than his words.  

Pulling your face from his neck, you look up at him, your eyes landing on his.  It's then you recognize more than just lust in his face.  “Yeah?” you softly ask, even though you know the answer already.  

Walter’s smile turns almost shy and he briefly looks away from you, nibbling on his own lip for a moment.  “Yeah,” he divulges as his eyes find yours again, the blue subtly reappearing around the end of his pupils.  You match his smile and cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb through the soft hairs of his beard. There’s a shift in the air as you guide his lips back down to yours, your shared kiss turning soft, delicate, as if he was tasting something delicate and sweet. Walter lays himself fully on you, his chest pressed to yours as your hands glide through his curls.  One of his hands reaches out to caress your cheek as the other lands beside your shoulder.

As much as you are enjoying the intimacy of this moment, your body craves so much more, and your nails graze from his scalp down his neck to his chest. Glancing over one nipple earns you a gasp as your hand meanders down his body, boldly reaching under his boxers to grasp his hard length.  “I need you,” you all but beg him, your hand stroking him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he complies, reaching down to remove his shorts around your arm before returning to tug your panties from your body. “You smell amazing,” he admits as he noses between your thighs on his way back up your body.  

“Later,” you mumble absently, reaching for a condom from the night stand beside the bed.  “Later.”  Did you want to feel this man’s mouth on pussy, his tongue twisting inside you?  Did you want to be slowly taken apart by him?   Oh abso-fucking-lutely.  But right now your body needs to be claimed by him, feel his heavy length inside of you.

“So there will be a later?” he teases as you both rise into sitting positions, his eyes on your mouth as you rip the wrapper open.  

“Only if you shut the fuck up,” you growl lowly, your hands sliding the latex sheath into place.  Walter’s hands on his thighs fist at the feel of you, his head lulling back, his eyes closing at your touch.  You can’t help but smirk at the sight before you.  You make a mountain of man like Walter silently needy sends a new rush of arousal through you, your pussy clenching around nothing.  

Tugging on his covered cock in your palm, you lean forward and wrap your tongue around one nipple, giving it a nip before he growls, surging forward, knocking you onto your back.  Holding his shoulders, you can't help but grin up at him as he kisses you hard, his tongue gliding over yours as his hand finds its way between your thighs, his fingers grazing over your sensitive flesh, your hips bucking up against him, mewls escaping your lips.  Gently Walter opens you, pressing one finger inside, your nails digging into his shoulder at the feel of him.  

“Please,” you whimper, “Please please please.” you mindlessly beg, your shoulders pressed to the bed below you as you try to rock against him, trying for more friction.  

Your eyes close tight and you miss the heady grin on Walter’s face.  “Please what, hon?”  he asks.  “You are going to have to be more specific,” he teases. 

“Please fuck me,” you are past being nice and lady like. It had been entirely too long since you had a man between your legs, and you were done with being teased.  And apparently Walter was past teasing.  As soon as his finger withdraws, you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing into you.   “Yesssss,” you mumble, spreading your legs further to give him more room at the delicious burn as he slowly spears himself deep inside of you. 

His forehead pressed to yours.  “So tight,” he muttered.  

“So big,” you respond in kind.  “So good,” you amend as you felt him nudge deep inside of you, reaching depths no other man nor toy had ever reached before.

As he presses his pelvis flush to yours, you groan in completeness as you lift your thighs to curl against his sides, your inner muscles rippling around him. You really were not prepared for him withdrawing from you, your pussy grabbing him, wanting to keep him deep inside of you.  Walter hisses at the feel of your body’s reluctant yield.  “So warm, so wet,” he mutters before capturing your lips again.  The kiss quickly turns sloppy and messy as you both strive for the higher feeling that only your bodies’ connection can give you. You cling to each other, your hips meeting each of his powerful thrusts, your breaths mingling as he draws back just a hair, his forehead still on yours.  It really did not take long for you to feel that hot burn in your lower belly begin, it slowly spreading out from there.  

“Yes, yes yes,” you say between clenched teeth as your fingers slid down his back to his ass, encouraging him to press tightly into you with each thrust.  Your head arches back and you feel his fingers pluck at a nipple, making you gasp louder.  “Please,” you whisper.  At your request, Walter’s hand wraps around your lower neck, his thumb pressing into the hollow of your throat as if that spot was made for his finger.  Your gasps get louder as your body reacts to his touch.  As his hold becomes a little tighter, you couldn't help but fall over the edge, your body tensing for a second before your whole being began to shake under him, your gasps coming out in loud moans and shouts of vugar obscenities.  

With your eyes tightly closed, and head arched back, you miss the wide eyes looking down at you. Walter’s hips start to sharply pound into you, at more irregular intervals. It wasn't too long after your orgasm that you felt him press hard against you, his own body tenses as he came deep in you, spilling into the condom. Your fingers all but cramped as you grabbed his ass to hold him to you as you came again, your muscles spasming hard for a second time.  

You turn your head to the side as Walter’s nose comes down to rest against your cheek, his hot breath skirting over your skin.  “Fuck me,” he gasps.  

“Pretty sure we already did that,” you joke briefly before he pulls back from you. Flexing your suddenly achy joints, you watch as he heads to the adjacent bathroom. With a soft sleepy smile, you curl on your side facing the door.  Try as you might though, you are unable to keep your eyes open and you find yourself drifting off to sleep.  

Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Helps me know if I'm on the right track with my writing. Thanks so much!

Tag list @mcolbz14  @lokislittlewarrior  @liecastillo @m07belzen  @red42985  @enchantedbytomandhenry  @littleone65  @inlovewithhisblueeyes @used-to-be-bourbonwithice

#walter marshall #walter marshall fic #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x you #walter marshall x reader #henry cavill fic #night hunter fic #hidden sun series #henry cavill characters #night hunter

[hope-to-hell]

Going over my old stuff, I found a nasty little gem I never posted. Sideshow. ReaderxWalter. Torture, gore, blood, noncon, slapping, knives, burns, handjobs, generally dead dove. Walter’s a gorgeous specimen. Break him.

You hadn’t really had a plan for the pliers; this whole thing was thrown together last-minute after the guy who swore he could get you a dunk tank full of eels backed out. But sometimes fate is funny like that. When you mentioned pliers because that’s the first thing you saw on the pegboard beside you, his wide-eyed stare gave you such ideas.

“You know, you have such a nice beard. It’s a shame you’re about to lose it.”

He bears it silently when you close the needlenosed pliers around a little section of beard and pull. It leaves a bare patch smaller than your smallest fingernail, a pale spot that quickly wells with blood. And his eyes water but it’s reflexive, the same sort of thing you’d get from plucking eyebrows. So the next time your pliers close around a little bit of beard, you make sure you take some skin with it.

It takes hours, until your hand is cramping, until you think maybe something less involved would’ve been better. But those silent tears shine on his cheeks, where he might be able to blink them down from his eyes but he can’t hide the evidence that this is hurting him. “That’s it. Pretty man, pretty tears. Tell me all about how it hurts you.” And he can’t, not with his words, not yet. But oh how you will teach him, how you’ll help him find the words to describe in minute detail all the ways it hurts. As long as he can talk, at least.

***

“Hey. Hey, Walter. C’mon buddy, time to wake up.” Your hand is as gentle as you can make it, soft around the hard line of his jaw, feeling tiny pinprick scabs under your touch. He sighs sleepily, nuzzling into your hand before he remembers where he is. Those eyes flash open, filled with fear before he can reach for his stoic mask, before he can slam it down over himself to hide away how human he is, how fragile.

How breakable.

“Can’t believe you fell asleep on the job. Really, now, you’re supposed to be paying attention.” When you rock back onto your heels for the windup he sees it coming, but doesn’t even try to avoid your hand. He’s solid, immobile, so fucking stubborn. When the slap connects it sends a stinging, buzzing thrill all up your arm and you’ll definitely be feeling that later, but so will he. Fingerprints are already rising on his cheek and though the tears from earlier have dried you can’t help but lean forward, getting up on your toes to lick crusted salt and blood from his cheek. And he whimpers,then, pinioned between tenderness and pain. Interesting.

***

His beard starts to grow back, and you let it because it really is a very nice beard. You even rub almond-scented oil into it and although he glares ferociously, his mouth opens ever so slightly as his tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip, flickering like he’s tasting the air. So you grab at it, thumbnail digging hard until you feel the flesh give, until a sheen of blood coats the inside of his mouth, and all the while he’s making a sound high in his throat like a wounded animal. And that’s good, that’s—

“Very good. That’s it, don’t try to hide all those pretty noises. You know how much I like to hear you.” And when you let go to smear a thumb bloody across his lips, painting him red, he tips his head just a fraction of an inch, barely perceptible, but it happens. So you trail a hand down the front of his jeans, just to see, just to watch his eyes narrow as he braces for what he knows is coming. You stroke him softly, until you feel him begin to fill. And maybe he knows it’s coming, but the slap still knocks the breath from his lungs, still sends him jerking against his bonds.

And that’s good, that’s very good. You’re finally starting to get reactions out of him, finally starting to crack the surface and dig into the meat of the man underneath. “See? It’s not so difficult. I just want to see you, babe.” And all the while your hand is on him again, gentle, stroking him through fabric until he’s panting with it, can’t help himself, until his hands clench and his limbs strain against their bonds.

When he lets go, when he shows himself to you, it’s with a gasping whine and a shudder that shakes him in his bonds. And you press at him, and keep pressing, until your hand is sticky against his jeans and he’s making tiny twitches of his hips like he wants to get away but he’s trying to be still. And with a final squelching pat you take your hand away. “That was very good,” you smile up at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You can feel his eyes burning against your back until the door closes behind you.

***

What you really want is to carve him up, mark him indelibly. And he’s so big, so broad, a gorgeous canvas all for you. The knife is small but it’s wicked sharp, a fact you show him by turning his hand palm up, taking just a moment to stroke a finger along the bruises left by his restraints. Oh, you have such burning ideas for those cuffs, later. But for now, you test the knife’s sharpness by splitting a line down his index finger from tip to root.

“Oops. Little deeper than I meant, there. Here, I’ll kiss it better.” And you do, the angle is a little awkward but you manage, sucking that finger onto your mouth, relishing the salty copper taste, working the point of your tongue into the wound just to hear him whine. He does whine, and even shifts his hips a little, and oh that’s good. “Good boy.” A last lick and you get up on your toes to kiss him, to share the taste of his blood. “Good boy. You deserve a reward.”

But he snaps at you, trying to catch your tongue in his teeth, so instead of unhooking him one arm at a time to get his sweater off, you split it right down the middle and then along the arms so it just falls right off. Too bad, it was a very nice sweater. And he’s shivering in the cold, nipples pebbling, hair standing on end. It’s a good look, but it’ll look better once you’ve marked him up properly.

You begin by tracing whorls and curlicues over his collarbones, barely having to press at all because the skin there is so fine, so close to the bone. From there you’re distracted by the drops of blood that run down his chest so you trace those with the knife instead, following them down and up again, smearing your free hand through the mess and digging nails into the wounds. He’s been quiet this whole time but at that, at the feel of you perforating him, digging inside him, he speaks. It’s the first thing he’s said in all this time, a quiet “fuck” that’s almost breathed more than spoken, but it makes you smile as much as if he’d shouted it. It’s been like pulling teeth, drawing him out slowly over days and days.

And oh how it’s been worth it. And now that one word has slipped, it’ll be only a matter of time before you get more, before you get what you’re really after.

***

He sleeps, the weight of his body pulling down on the cuffs, digging the bruises in deeper. He sleeps, mumbling nonsense syllables in the grips of a dream. His eyes roll under their lids, his fingers twitch. He whispers please. When he feels the burning in his wrists, he opens his eyes.

And isn’t it delectable, that split-second of confusion between sleeping and waking, when he isn’t quite sure where he is or what’s happening. When he knows he hurts but doesn’t know why, when he sees your face and leans toward its familiarity before context catches up with him, before his mind wraps around the message from his nerves and tells him this is wrong.

The flame heats his cuffs, sends his skin first red and then blistering and that’s where you stop, where his nerves are screaming but still intact. His hands jerk involuntarily, tearing blisters open against the cuffs and sending clear fluid weeping down his wrists, pooling in the lines of his palms. It’ll scar; it’ll scar if the bruises ever fade, leaving shiny pink bracelets that’ll be your indelible mark on him.

“It all depends on you, you know. When I let you out. If I let you out. But you haven’t given me what I want.” He should know by now, and it disappoints you just a little, his reticence, his stubbornness. But at the same time you revel in it, this chance to exercise your full potential as you chip away at him piece by piece. The day you get a full sentence out of him you’ll suck him til he forgets his own name, and you tell him that just to watch his eyes widen, to watch the way the pain from his burns transmutes into something darker, something sweeter.

“Think about it.”

#henry cavill #walter marshall #reader x walter #walter marshall fic #my fic #dead dove do not eat #night hunter #night hunter fic

[princessaxoxo]

Daddy's Surprise

Daddy!Walter x wife reader

Summary: Walter's tender fatherly manner sparks your arousal.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Doggy Style (Anal), Anal fingering, Oral (M receiving), Unprotected sex (p in v), vulgar language, pet names

Word Count: 1.6k+

When you first arrived home, the upstairs music was playing the Wiggles. You heard your daughter giggle loudly as you approached her room and saw that Walter was holding her while he danced to the music and sang along. "Fruit salad, yummy, yummy." You stifled your laugh, making sure he didn't hear you.

You stared at him as he continued around the room with her. Watching him, you became both aroused and warmed your heart by the way he was with her. Upon learning of your pregnancy, he was concerned about his ability to be a good father. Particularly considering how his job used to impact him. He was going to be fantastic; you were certain of it, which, during your pregnancy, you persistently reminded him of.

During your pregnancy, he was very attentive, worrying about every little thing. This both made you chuckle and feel grateful. The first time he held her on the day you gave birth, he sobbed. Walter felt an overpowering sense of love, hope, and protectiveness.

All he wanted to do was hold her. That hasn't altered at all. Despite being happy to be at home and spend time with her over working, he initially believed he wouldn't be adequate. You continued to watch them both as she yawned and gently closed her eyes as she began to feel drowsy. He went to put her down in her crib and lowered the music. Her drift to sleep was apparent to you from where you were standing.

Without anticipating your presence, he turned around and saw you there. Using your index finger, you gestured for him to approach closer. He came to you and gave you a hug. You planted an open-mouthed kiss on him as he murmured, "Hey, baby."

"Come with me to the bedroom." You gave him a cunning smile. He arched an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Am I about to receive a surprise?" he asks.

You answered him with another open-mouthed kiss. "Yes," you said with a devilish smile. "You're such a good father; this will be my gift to you," you said as you began to unbutton his jeans. The first piece of clothing you took off of him in a swift, impatient movement.

As you started to pump him with your little hand, you dropped to your knees. You noticed his eyes deepened as his jaw tightened. You began with a lengthy lick from the point where his pubic hair touched his cock. You swirled your tongue around his cock's head as you reached the top. You started to bob your head, and your throat widened as you took his length. His hips advanced, pressing more into your throat. "Baby, you look like a piece of art when you're on your knees for me with my cock in your mouth."

Around his length, you hummed and gagged on him while his hand caught your hair and pressed you down, keeping your mouth at the base of his cock for longer than a few seconds. This caused a deep grunt to escape from his mouth. Your mouth began to leak saliva onto the ground. He freed your head from his grip. You inhaled deeply, pulled your mouth back, and continued to pump him while staring up at him with your watery eyes. "Does it feel good, baby?" you said, a little in doubt but wanting to be sure it did, considering all the hard work he had recently put in. "It feels extraordinary." When you took him in your mouth again, you sucked harder and more confidently on him, and you watched him throw back his head. "Fuck, I'm going to come into your gorgeous mouth." You forced the full length of him down your throat and kept it there. And you moaned as his nectar shot into your lips and down your throat one last time, closing your eyes.

"Bad girl, stand up for me." Walter pulled off his sweater before he took off your blouse. "Daddy, do whatever you want to me." He had an enthusiastic expression. "Anything I want? Actually?" As he unzipped the pencil skirt you wore to work today, you nodded. He took you in his arms and laid you down on the bed. You made an attempt to remove your heels. His voice was demanding as he stated, "No, your heels are going to stay on."

"Now, remove your underwear and bra for me." As directed, you did.

Walter got up and roamed all over your body. He said above a whisper, "So perfect."

"So perfect, and entirely mine." He started tracing his fingertips down your body until he got to the core of you. He threaded two fingers between your slippery creases. "It never ceases to amaze me how wet you get for me."

He slapped your thighs open after putting his fingers to his mouth and sucking off your secretions. His mouth was positioned above your tits, where his kisses started. Once he made it to your lips; you sighed into his mouth as you felt his length seep into you. Speaking into your ear, he continued, "I'm going to warm you up." He groaned and continued, "And then I'm going to fuck your ass, baby."

As his kiss penetrated your lips, his facial hair tickled you. His hips kept snapping against your thighs as he gripped the headboard. Your thighs wanted to close around him, but he forced them apart with a bending forward motion. He gave sharp thrusts. He yelled, "Fucking take it," as your body arched off the bed. You gasped for air and furrowed your brows, saying, "Shit, Shit, Shit."

He slowed as you started to close your orgasm. He then rolled you onto your hands and knees. From the side drawer, you watched him take out the lubricant. The sound of the container being squeezed revealed the lubricant. You felt it on your ass after turning to see him rub it on his cock. "Calm down, my dear." He noted the increase in your breathing. His fingertips were the first you felt. "Shit," you muttered. You eventually managed to back yourself onto his fingers by slowly dipping in and out. "Exactly like that," he said.

The head of his cock started to ease its way into your ass. You let out a whimper, and your jaw fell open. He uttered the words, "Relax, baby, relax." Taking a deep breath, you retreated farther onto his cock. "That's right. You can take me; I'm almost in." After some time, you could feel your ass against his posterior. With force, he pulled you back to meet his hips after grabbing hold of yours. He bent forward at the sound of your deep moan. "Don't wake up our little girl; be quiet."

Walter eased in and out of you. The foreign territory that you crossed with Walter began as a weird sensation that soon turned pleasurable.

He took in your figure from behind, gently gliding his fingers down your spine and then giving your ass hard slaps, leaving red hand prints. He snapped his hips forward, and you could feel his fingernails digging into you.

His grunts got more audible as your moans filled the room. As he positioned himself farther inside of you, he seized your hair and pressed your head down into the pillows. "My goodness, your cock is filling me up so good."

When you heard him say, "Play with your pussy for me," you reached down to your clit and began to rub in circles. "Mhm, yes."

"I'm going to come, baby." Although you didn't think you would enjoy anal intercourse, it felt like paradise. "Are you going to come on Daddy's cock?" You let out a mewling yes. You gripped your sheets and rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you continued to stroke your clit, whimpering as you came on his cock.

Pumping himself more, he drew himself out. "Now get on top of me."

You climbed on top of him and seated yourself on his cock while he lay on his back. Your jaw dropped agape. He exclaimed, "So fucking tight," while clenching his jaw. You began to move your hips in a rhythmic manner, and you took Walter's hand and put it on your tits. Walter was mesmerized by what he saw as they began to bounce.

You said, "Oh, you fit inside me perfectly." He drew you in and planted a kiss on you, his tongue taking control of yours. He pounded into you while keeping your hips motionless. "I'm going to come inside this pussy, fuck."

"Yes, come inside of me. Fill me up, please." He grinned broadly at you. With his palm on your stomach and his cock palpable, he declared, "I'm going to put another baby in this belly." He encircled you with both of his muscular arms. His motions became messy, as you sensed. His breathing became labored, and he gave one last thrust before coming undone, looking down to where his cock and your cunt connected. He struck your g-spot shortly afterward and sucked on an area on your neck, causing you to erupt on his cock once more. With him still inside you, you leaned your forehead forward against his.

He lifted your chin and said, "Fuck, that was one hell of a surprise." You touched his cheek and then ran your hand through his curly hair. Raising yourself off of him, you laid down with him and started running your hand down his torso and through his chest hair, while he caressed your back for the rest of the afternoon.

#henry cavill #first post #henry cavill smut #smutty #henry cavill x reader #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #walter marshall #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fic #walter marshall x you #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall fluff #Walter marshall dad #walter marshall romance #walter marshall parent #one shot #smut #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x wife reader

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest Masterlist

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Wolfie-centric Spotify Playlist is here.

Sy-centric Spotify Playlist is here.

Dividers by me

Cover Art by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Parts: (ongoing)

Prologue: The Legend of the Claw Creek Creature

Chapter One: Hide and Seek

Chapter Two: The Cabin in the Woods

Chapter Three: The Wolf In My Living Room

Chapter Four: Unbridled Instincts

Chapter Five: A Biting Truth

Chapter Six: Of Wolf and Man

Chapter Seven: Marked By The Wolf

Chapter Eight: Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Headcanons:

Beefy College Walter imagine

My Masterlist 

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #werewolf!walter marshall #night hunter au #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #the howling in claw creek forest

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Of Wolf and Man

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: Walter lets you in on his past, and you meet a friend.

Warnings: making out, slight heavy petting, hot werewolves

A/N: This chapter gave me so much grief! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“I’m on my way over, alright? Just breathe for me. I’m gonna make a phone call and I will be over to your place shortly, okay?” Walter speaks clearly as if he were trying to calm down a frightened puppy.

Well, he’s not that far off.

“Yeah ok. Breathe. That should be easy enough, right?” You proceed to take one shaky deep breath and you laugh when you gulp in too much air and have a small coughing fit.

“Pup, you’re killing me. Gimme twenty minutes. Drink some water. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hear the way he tries to cover up his worry with a short laugh.

“See you soon, Wolfie.”  

You hang up and undress, throw your clothes in the hamper, and head to the bathroom to take a shower. Your body moved of its own accord, your brain leaving the equation early on to think hypotheticals. Only when you register that the water has gone cold do you turn the knobs and exit the tub. You are just toweling off when you hear the doorbell. 

You tighten your towel around yourself and peek out the bathroom window down onto your driveway. You can see the edge of the black F-150 in the driveway and you heave a sigh of relief. You skip down the steps and walk across the living room to the front door. Opening it, you go to speak but hush and step aside as Walter walks in still talking on the phone with someone. 

He mouths, I’m sorry, before going back to the phone call. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, brother. See you soon,” he ends the call and focuses his attention on you, smiling as you watch him take in your attire or lack thereof.

“So, who was that?” you ask, knocking Walter out of his daydreaming.

“Right, uh. That was Jace. He’s coming down to help us with our little problem. Well, it may not even be a problem. Who knows? Sy might be fine, we haven’t even seen his bite yet.” Walter scratches his beard and shrugs.

Crap.

“Actually, I’ve seen it. He sent me a pic of the bite after we were on the phone on my way home from work,” you reply, wishing you could melt into the floorboards.

Walter tilts his head and squints at you. “He sent you a pic of the bite after you were on the phone on your way home from work? That seems...friendly.” You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, no doubt leaving something unsaid.

“Yeah, he left me a voicemail the night you both were hurt. But I didn’t listen to it until today. I had to call him to make sure he was okay before I bothered you with possibly a false alarm. I’m sorry I didn’t call you first.” you explain, grabbing his big paw and looking into his eyes.

He can’t help but melt for you, but he tries to keep it out of his expression. He fails, rolling his eyes and smiling. “First things first, pack a bag for a night or two at the cabin. Just for my own worry. So I know you’re safe.” He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you to him, “Oh, and I should probably look at that photo too.”

You pull him with you upstairs and grab your phone off of the charger. Scrolling to the texts, you find Sy’s chat and open it. You turn to look at Walter and speak, “I did not ask him to send a thirst trap. Just want that to be stated clearly.” 

You hand him your phone and he rolls his eyes, using his thumb and index finger to zoom in on the bite. He studies the image for a bit before giving you back the device, sniffing and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Well?” you press.

“Kinda hard to look at it honestly. Never thought I’d see your ex’s happy trail. So, there’s that variable thrown in there for good measure,” he offers, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “It just seems like he is quite comfortable sending you these.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you have to tell him. “Look, that day you dropped me at my car, Sy was here. Olivia called him because she didn’t know what else to do. He pointed out the hickey you left on my neck. He’s obviously jealous and he wanted to throw his hat in the ring. That’s all.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure he knows who hangs his hat here.” Walter pulls you to him, his large hand going to your throat as your lips connect. He swallows your delicate moans, savoring them as his thumb rubs at your pulse point. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, and lets you catch your breath. 

You look up into his eyes and can’t stop the dopey smile that forms on your face. You shake your head and say, “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend? ‘Cause, if so? Fuck yeah is my answer.”

“Now, don’t let me stop you from packing. I’ll just sit here quietly.” He sits on your bed and gestures for you to get ready to go to his house.

Pulling a small suitcase from the closet, you gather your toiletries first, zipping their case closed as you walk back into the bedroom. It’s not long before you are in Walter’s truck and starting the trip to the cabin. You yawn for most of the ride, your body finally still and feeling like you could fall over at any second.

You arrive and put your things upstairs. Checking your watch, you realize it’s after 1 in the morning and you suddenly aren’t tired anymore. You didn’t have the chance to wind down after work, now that you think about it. You just stayed stimulated, in one way or another, off and on.

You decide to go back downstairs and see what Walter is doing. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you see him emerge from the kitchen holding an apple between his teeth as he pushes up the sleeves of his sweater.

After a healthy bite, he takes the fruit out of his mouth and walks over to you. “Lemme guess, can’t sleep?” You shake your head and he nods. “Wanna wait up for Jace with me? We can talk while we wait.”

You nod and he takes your hand, leading you to the living room.

“So how long have you known Jace?” you inquire, settling back into the couch’s plush cushions.

“Oh, far too long. I met him when I was turned.” Walter stops there and looks at you, seeing your look of excitement at hearing the story, “Look, it’s not that great of a story. But I’ll tell you if you wanna hear it.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to. But just know, it’s been on my mind since the moment I found out what you are. Of course, I wanna know how it happened.” You put your hand on his and he turns it over to hold it.

“It was really stupid. I came here to the States for school and I played football and was in a frat house. I had the whole ‘college experience’, ya know? Um, one kid on the team was kind of a loner but we got along just fine. Melot and I were pretty different, but he needed a friend and I was broke and he paid for everything. One night, he invited me out to a party off-campus. Promises drinks and girls and whatever I wanted. Should have known that was too good to be true.

“Anyway, he drives us out into the woods where this bonfire is going on. And there are maybe ten people there that I can see as we walk up. As soon as we get up to the fire, this huge guy stands up and walks around the fire and greets us. Now, he looks like he eats children and I feel so small in front of him. But he just hands us a couple of beers and whistles over his shoulder. And two very cute girls come running over. All of a sudden, I’ve got a cold beer and a girl on my arm and I didn’t take a second to think maybe this was too good to be true.”

You snicker at him, and he continues.

“The rest of the night is going alright. Then I notice there is a fighting ring going on and I see that they are really going for it. It’s brutality at its finest. I walk up and then the fight stops and I see Melot get into the ring and people start pushing me in. I was drunk enough to agree to fight him, but not drunk enough to lose. I had him knocked out within minutes, or so I thought. 

“I wobbled over to him and turned him over to check out the damage and he lunged at me. Before I could even understand what was happening, Melot was biting into my shoulder. The pain was unimaginable and I blacked out. I came to and was so lost. I woke up and the girl from the night before was holding a cloth to my forehead and she smiled down at me when I opened my eyes. I fell in love with Angie at that very moment. We were inseparable after that. At least for a while.”

You squeeze his hand, not knowing what to say, and he smiles at you before talking again.

“So, Melot is there when I wake up too. He tells me that he wanted to impress the Alpha with a new wolf for the pack. Apparently, Melot thought this would get him some kind of accolades. But, it only pissed off the Alpha for potentially exposing them to humans. Heard they tortured him pretty well after that. Serves him right. 

“I just ended up going back to school after everything. Didn’t see Melot much after that, but I did go back to the pack when I started to feel like I was losing my mind. On the night of my first shift, I met Jace. A handful of them were at the place in the woods and said they expected me sooner. I was so sick, thought it was the flu. They took me in and helped me through that first painful transformation. When I was in wolf form for the first time, all I could do was run. I ran through those woods until Jace tackled me and talked me down. He became my brother that night. He took me under his wing and taught me everything he knew. Which is why I called him about our situation. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

“So, was Jace bitten too? Or...can you be born a werewolf?” you wonder aloud.

“I was bitten. Angie, Jace, and Faye were all born with the lycanthropy gene,” he answers, noting your furrowed brow, “The lycanthropy gene is passed down from werewolves to their offspring. Usually lays dormant until puberty. That’s one thing that Teen Wolf got right. The 80s one, not the MTV one.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that my Wolfie has seen Teen Wolf, but it still makes me feel all tingly, knowing you’ve seen werewolf media. Oh my God, have you seen Twilight?!” you exclaim, suddenly hyper-aware that you’ve gone giddy.

Walter snorts and pulls you into straddle his lap, cupping your face in both of his hands. Pulling you close, he turns his head to whisper in your ear, “Team Jacob.”

You actually swoon, and your little whimpered moan escapes before you get the chance to permit it. Covering your mouth too late, you lean back at look at Walter’s smug face. You swat at his shoulder and the corner of his mouth turns up.

He has you pinned under him on the sofa so fast, you could hear the air whoosh by. He nuzzles his nose with yours, then moves to kiss from your lips to your neck. You turn your head to give him better access, letting your hand tangle in his hair.

He licks and nips at your soft flesh, sucking and biting his way to where your neck meets your shoulder. While his hips are pressing into you, his hand snakes under your shirt to tickle your skin. You chirp when you feel his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot. 

You freeze, you’ve never made that sound before.

Walter groans, he likes the sound you made if his hips grinding into you was anything to go by. He gives little kitten licks at the spot again and you melt under his touch.

“I can smell how much you need me, Pup,” he hums, sliding a hand to cup your clothed sex, “Fuck. I can feel the heat coming off of her–Shit,” He shakes his head, kissing your neck before sitting up and getting off the couch. “Looks like we have company.”

You lean up on your elbows, confused until you hear the monstrous rumble of a motorcycle engine getting closer. You watch as Walter opens the front door and disappears into the yard. Soon, you hear the symphony of howling and grunts. You get up from the couch and walk to the open door when you hear the growling get louder.

From the doorway, you see quite a display of masculinity. Two grown men wrestle in the grass like children, laughing and shouting at each other until they register your presence. 

The taller of the two sniffs the air and turns toward you, climbing off of Walter. His piercing green eyes almost seem to glow. A wild mane of dark brown waves with bleached ends frames a masculine face, and a healthy beard outlines full lips. His caramel skin is littered with tattoos from the neck down, a slit in his left eyebrow.

A dark grey v-neck under a vest hugs his built chest, while thick thighs are encased in tight-fitting jeans. A pair of old boots cover his feet, the laces left untied. His long fingers are decorated with a handful of ornate rings and one wrist sports a leather braided bracelet with a wolf charm hanging from it.

His meaty arms cross over his chest and his face splits with a devilish grin, his body is almost bouncing with energy. “Who’s your new friend, Marshall?”

To be continued...

A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter is already outlined. And just needs to be written. I have a plan, y’all.

A/N 2: Bonus points if you can guess my face-claim for Jace.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @milknhonies @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @cardierreh15 @viking-raider @imaslutforcuddles @ilovetaquitosmmmm @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @calwitch @meanlilbean @samahenoyrhye @openup-yourmind @juliaorpll78 @princessaxoo @toooldforobsessions @carrie80reads @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @evansabove1981 @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hannah9921 @mayloma @inlovewith-books @fluffy-little-demon @caramariehurst @gummydummy19 @jvanilly @livisss @sofiebstar @posiemax

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #werewolf!walter marshall #night hunter au #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you

[adriennebarnes]

Don Refri

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N has been the police records clerk for a few months. He’s known as Detective Grumpy to everyone in the district, but she’s the only one who calls him Don Refri. Walter gets jealous when there is a new detective around.

A/N: Walter Marshall is probably my favorite Henry Cavill character to read about, I need more content of him. I’ve also been watching a telenovela and the way Alexander has been acting with Lola when they were fighting, I thought “what if Walter was like this?” So here it is. Also, LATIN PRESENTATION FOR HENRY CAVILL!

For all intent and purposes, this one shot is very humorous, sort of like a sitcom, Walter doesn’t follow canon AT ALL, but I did try to “research” what happens in a precinct.

Y/N was entering the district with a thermos in hand, all bundled up.

“Ay, hace un pinche frío, why the fuck did I move to Minnesota, it’s so cold.” Y/N said as she took off her coat and Matthew started laughing. “Don’t laugh like that, I’m not meant for cold weather.”

“Just start working on something before detective grumpy comes in and starts yelling.” Matthew said, taking Y/N’s coat, folding it.

“I’m not scared of Don Refri, but I will start working because i have to make the case files of whatever criminal is out now so Don Refri and detective Dickerman Can catch them as soon as possible.” Y/N said and she started sipping hot chocolate from her thermos. As she was working, Walter came in. “Good morning, Don Refri.” Walter rolled his eyes at her.

“Morning, Y/N.” Walter mumbled and went to his office. Matthew, Glasgow, and Rachel stared at Y/N. Y/N looked at them.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“You call him Don Refri to his face and he does nothing, but we almost get written up when he overheard us reference him as Detective Grumpy. How is that possible?” Glasgow asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m happy about it, not gonna lie.” Y/N said. She began working on the computer, smiling to herself. No one but her bestie knows about her crush on the grumpy detective.

“I think he has a soft spot for you, what do you think?” Rachel asks.

“Maybe he does.” Y/N replied.

A few moments after creating the case files, Y/N heard Walter yell “Fuck” from his office.

“I wonder what’s got him worked up. Y/N, go check on him.” Matthew said.

“Fine. Now I know how my brother felt when I sent him to ask our mom something.” Y/N said. She got up from her desk and went to Walter’s office, saw that he threw his stuff off his desk and is now running his hand through his hair, exasperated.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Walter asked.

“What’s got you in such a bad mood, Don Refri?” Y/N asked.

“First; you keep calling me that.” Walter started and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I told you, start being open about your feelings and then I’ll stop calling you don refri, Don Refri.” Y/N replied and Walter rolled his eyes. “What’s the other thing that got you in a bad mood?”

“They’re transferring another detective here.” Walter massaged his temples.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Y/N asked.

“Not if the detective is a fucking pain in the ass. He hits on anything with skirt.” Walter commented. “He has a womanizer, player kind of reputation and I don’t want that guy in this district.”

“Why is he getting transferred?” Y/N asked.

“Don’t know. Hopefully I have time before this fucker gets here.” Walter starts picking up the stuff he threw and Y/N helped him until they heard a voice.

“Isn’t anyone going to welcome me?” The man sounded arrogant.

“Too late. Let’s go.” Walter said, after putting everything back on his desk and him and Y/N went to the front of the district, Y/N went back to her desk. “Team, this is…what’s your name again?” Walter asked.

“Ha ha, nice to see you haven’t changed. I’m Detective Tyler Delgado, I just transferred here.” Tyler introduced himself.

“Well this is my team, Matthew and Glasgow are technicians, Rachel is a profiler and psychologist, and Y/N here is our records clerk.” Walter introduced them to Tyler.

“Nice to meet you guys.” Tyler said, “Especially you.” Tyler said, looking at Y/N before winking.

“Well, Let’s get back to work.” Walter said, leaving with Tyler.

The day went on Walter and Y/N were the only ones left in the district, she was finishing up the police logs.

“Ugh, i can’t wait to sleep.” Y/N said.

“What did you think of Delgado?” Walter asked.

“I Don’t have much of an opinion of him, he doesn’t look like a fuckboy though.” Y/N commented.

“I never said he was a fuckboy, I said he had the reputation of one, big difference.” Walter said.

“Yeah, whatever. If you’re worried about Rachel going out with him, I don’t think she would fall for any of his ‘tricks’ because of her psychology background.” Y/N commented as she took a sip of soda.

“It’s not Rachel I’m worried about.” Walter replied, looking at Y/N. Y/N looked at Walter with wide eyes and she put her soda down.

“Me? You’re worried about me? Why are you worried?” Y/N asked, please say it’s because you like me she said in her head.

“I just don’t want you to get taken advantage of.” Walter said.

“Do I look easy to you, Walter? I know I’m a few years younger than you but I’m not naive, I know when someone has other intentions, there’s a reason why I wanted to be an FBI profiler.” Y/N said.

“I’m just saying, I saw you and Delgado flirting when he was giving you some files.” Walter said.

“I was being friendly! Por Dios, uno ya no puede ser amable o que?” Y/N said, crossing her arms.

“What does that mean?” Walter asked.

“It means I can’t be nice to someone without being accused of trying to sleep with them.” Y/N said in a huff, packing her bag.

“When did I accuse you that?” Walter asked while raising his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, don refri, I finished, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N said and she left without kissing Walter on the cheek or hugging him.

The next day, Walter was running late because he was talking to Angie about Faye. When he entered the district, he saw Y/N and Tyler talking, as he got closer, he heard part of their conversation.

“It’s a date, I’ll pick you up tonight at 8.” Tyler said, winking at Y/N and walked away. Y/N smiled slightly until she heard Walter.

“What was that about?” Walter asked behind Y/N, scaring her and she put her hand in her chest.

“No me asustes así!” Y/N exclaimed as she hit his arm. Of course it didn’t hurt since Walter works out a lot, but he still winces because that’s how he is with Y/N.

“You’re going out with Delgado? After telling me I shouldn’t worry about you? Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Walter questioned.

“Sabes algo, Don Refri? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” Y/N said. Hold up, is he jealous? That HAS to mean he likes me, oh please don’t be such a don refri and tell me you like me, PLEASE! Y/N thought to herself

“I’m looking out for you just like I would look out for Faye and Rachel, I am protective over the women who are close to me, especially with this job. I’ll talk to you later.” Walter said and walked away.

Y/N sat at her desk, very confused over what just happened with the grumpy detective.

A week went by and Walter observed Y/N and Tyler. Whenever they would be together during their lunch break or just together in general, Walter scowled. But one day he was walking by Tyler’s office and he heard something suspicious.

“I’m still at work…yes, I’m going to be late again…I’m sorry, the captain is tougher than at the last precinct…I’ll see you at home, love you, baby.” And Tyler hung up the phone. Walter walked in his office.

“Who were you on the phone with, Delgado?” Walter asked.

“My niece, it’s her birthday today.” Tyler lied, Walter could tell. This wasn’t the first time Walter heard a suspicious phone call like this but it’s the first he confronted Tyler.

“Well then, see you later.” Walter said as he walked out of Tyler’s office. He grabbed his lunch from the fridge, heated it up, and walked back to his office where he would do a background check on Tyler Delgado. “I’m not jealous, Y/N is like a sister to me, I just want to make sure she’s safe.” Walter said to himself as he was checking all the information that he managed to pull up about Tyler.

For what seemed like an eternity to Walter, he found out that Tyler Delgado is married! He took a photo of what he found on the computer, he went into the break room to look for Y/N and he found Tyler leaning in to kiss Y/N so he did what any man would do when they see a married man try to kiss their crush, I mean, their “friend”, and punch them in the face. Walter punched Tyler so hard that Tyler got knocked out and was on the floor, out cold.

Y/N was in shock. “Are you insane?!? Que te pasa?!?” Y/N yelled. “You killed him, you fucking killed him.”

“Oh please, how am i going to kill a man with a single punch, Y/N? Seriously, think.” Walter said.

“Well I don’t know, you work out a lot, you clearly have a lot more muscle than Tyler, you probably killed him.” Y/N said.

“You look at my muscles a lot?” Walter said with a little smirk.

“Don’t change the subject.” Y/N said firmly. Rachel was entering the break room with a box,

“Hey, Matthew brought doughnuts, you guys want some? What the fuck happened here?” Rachel asked when she saw Tyler on the floor and she place the box on the table, closing the break room door.

“Oh well what happened was Don Refri here came in and just punched Tyler for no fucking reason. You’re a psychologist, is this an act of jealousy?” Y/N asked.

“First of all, it wasn’t for no fucking reason, he’s scum, did you know that he’s married?” Walter yelled.

“What?” Both Y/N and Rachel asked,

“Yeah, He’s married, and He’s been married for 4 years.” Walter said

“Ugh, stop lying, Don Refri, and just admit that killed him because you’re jealous and that’s it!” Y/N yelled.

“Jealous? You think I’m jealous, really? Of course I’m not jealous.” Walter said, stepping closer to Y/N, resulting in getting closer to Tyler’s unconscious body.

“Careful, you’re gonna kill him again.” Y/N said.

“How am I gonna kill him again if he’s already dead?” Walter teased Y/N.

“Well, He’s not dead, he’s still breathing.” Rachel said, looking a Tyler, seeing his chest rise and fall.

“Whatever, Rachel, why would you think I’m jealous? Do you really think I’m jealous, Y/N? Please.” Walter asked.

“Mm hmm, sure, and your fits just has a mind of its own? Ah! I cant even speak, I’m so mad, your fist, fist!” Y/N shouted the last part of her sentence.

“I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, speak clearly.” Walter said in a fed up tone.

“I am speaking clearly! Fist, fist, fist! You know what? Say whatever the hell you want, to me, this was a crime of passion, you can’t tell me different.” Y/N said and Rachel just observed their argument while eating a doughnut and drinking her coffee thinking to herself that these two people totally love each other, are at the very least shave feelings for each other.

“Y/N, you can’t possibly be acting this way?” Walter questioned.

“Acting what way, hm?” Y/N asked.

“Like this!” Walter said, gesturing to her with his hands. That’s when Tyler started to come to and he sat up.

“What happened?” Tyler said groggily.

“Shut up!” Walter said, punching him AGAIN. Rachel’s eyes were wide as plates, and so were Y/N’s.

“What’s wrong with you?!?” Both women yelled.

“What? I Don’t like being interrupted while I’m speaking.” Walter stated

“Oh my god, You’re crazy, i need to get out of here.” Y/N said. She left the break room with Walter following her. Walter grabbed her wrist and they walked to an empty interrogation room. “What are you doing, Don Refri?”

“Fuck it.” Walter whispered before kissing Y/N passionately in the interrogation room, only lasting when they were out of breath. Y/N pulled away first.

“What was that, Walter?” Y/N asked. The first time she called him by his first name.

“You wanted me to admit I was jealous, right? Well, here I am admitting that I was jealous of you and Tyler. But i am not lying about him having a wife, I did a background check on him before knocking him out, look.” Walter said, showing Y/N his phone. Y/N grabbed his phone, seeing it was true. “I’ve had feelings for you since you started working here but I am very bad of expressing my feelings, as you point out to me daily.” Walter admitted.

“I have liked you since I started working here too. Does this mean we’re together now?” Y/N asked. Walter chuckled, taking Y/N’s hands in his.

“It means I’m going to take you on a date after our shift is over. Hopefully Tyler doesn’t report me.” Walter said and Y/N laughed.

“You’re probably going to be suspended but you can worry about that later, i have reports to write up.” Y/N said and Walter opened the door for her so they could leave the interrogation room. The first time since becoming a detective, Walter had a smile on his face. It was small, but it was there.

The End

Thank you for reading my very first Walter Marshall fanfic, hope you liked it

#walter marshall #hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #walter marshall x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #night hunter #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #henry cavil x y/n #walter marshall x you

[sillyrabbit81]

Say It

Prompt: Embarrassed & Shy, Marshall, Dirty Talk from @nashibirne (x)

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 600

Warnings: Smut, P in V sex, Dirty talk, corruption kink

Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @henryobsessed  and @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.

Edited by me, there will be errors

Dividers by me.

Masterlist

Celebration Masterlist

Nothing in the world turned Marshall on more than watching a demure, dignified, pure, lady turn into a depraved, lustful, writhing, woman. The need to be the impetus that led to your corruption was what had led him to this moment and he pauses to take it all in.

You are more beautiful to him in this moment than ever before; naked and open, your body spread out across his bed, your smell and excitement seeping into his sheets. He wishes he could take a picture to capture this moment forever.

He doesn’t dare though, not yet anyway. One day you will let him, he’ll take baby steps. Having you completely bare and the lights on had taken a lot of finesse and being so close to finally having you, he was not about to mess this up by going too far too quickly.

Besides, he thinks as he leans over your body and holds his weight over you with an outstretched arm, there is something he wants more than a picture.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says.

You avert your gaze from his and his cock throbs. God, he loves watching you squirm, loves watching you as your timidness and desire war for supremacy in your mind. 

“I want…” you lick your lips, close your eyes and blurt out, “you to have sex with me.”

Marshall shakes his head. “No, baby, you don’t want to have sex.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “I don’t?”

“No,” Marshall continues with a smirk, “you don’t want me to have sex with you. You want me to fuck you.”

“Oh God!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.

Cute, Marshall thinks, she’s so fucking cute.

“Say it,” he encourages.

He lowers himself until the coarse curls on his chest caress the sensitive and pebbled skin of your nipples. His fingers skim up the inside of your thigh, his touch leaving a wake of tight, tingling, goosebumped flesh.

“Say, ‘Walter, I want you to fuck me,’” he breathes into your ear, “Say, ‘I want you to fuck me until I scream.’”

Fingers dance over your slit, his thumb slides between your swollen lips to the slick and warm hidden skin of your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart.”

You groan and Marshall grins. Your skin burns with embarrassment but also arousal. 

“I can’t,” you practically sob.

Your core pulses, clutching at nothing, your desperation increasing as the roughened pad of Marshall’s thumb finds your clit. You hear a low deep moan and are shocked to realise it is coming from you.

Your thighs start to tremble as Marshall rolls your clit beneath his thumb. You’re gasping, each breath hitching in your throat as you teeter on the edge. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you grab hold in desperation. More, you need more.

She’s so close.

Marshall presses the pulsing and leaking head of his cock against your pussy. The soft heat of you is so tempting, he almost gives in.

Frustrated, he growls into your ear, “Tell me every dirty desire you have. Tell me every fucked up, filthy little fantasy that you dream about and I’ll make it a reality. All you have to do is say it.”

Your voice is so hoarse, you don’t recognise it as you finally relent. “Fuck me! Just fuck me, Walter.”

“Good girl,” Marshall praises gently, kissing your cheek. He sinks inside you, groaning with relief as your tight, silky walls envelop him. “Good fucking girl.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #rabbitsmilestone23 #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fan fiction #walter marshall fic #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #night hunter

[synelven]

lilith and the night hunter bonding over being vets <3

#outlast #outlast trials #night hunter #night hunter outlast #reagent oc #oc: lilith o'reilly #drew this ages ago but am finally posting it lol #now it's mim's turn to post their fic 👀 /j #also yes this does take place in an alternate history where women could serve on the frontlines in the army in the 40s. dont question it.

[mu3las]

my contribution for this @hxhbigbang23! it's my first ever participating, and I got to do an illustration for @maxiemumdamage 's amazing fic Coal Mine

speedpaint :]

#sooo happy I got to read this fic it was really good had me hooked #I thought it would take me like 3 days-a week to read it but I ended up reading it all in one night #I don't usually do full things with backgrounds n stuff so this was quite challenging but I quinda wanna do another one #anyway #hxh #hunter x hunter #alluka #canary hxh #hxh big bang #hxhbb23

[hunterbunter3000]

To piggyback off what the person who said Sweets would be the mom of 141 and get woken up by them while she sleeps, Soap would totes be the one to say “I threw up🧍🏻” LMAOO like I couldn’t help but imagine her waking up cause she senses something/someone looking at her and at the foot of the bed is Soap and she’s like “what is it sweetie?” and he starts sniffling and tells her he threw up 💀

LMAOOOO I CANT

I feel like he would wake up Gaz first so they could go together to Sweetheart's room 💀 like he needs the SUPPORT FIRST

And they both open Sweet's door and the light from the hall way wakes her up and she's squinting but she can see Gaz holding Soap's hand while he cries HA

And they're at the end of her bed and Soap says "Bonnie I frew up in the kitchen 🥺🥺"

Sweetheart, still trying to wake up:

Sweetheart: The both of you or just Soap

Gaz: Just Soap

Sweetheart: ok

After Gaz helps her clean it up, she gives Soap some ice chips and Gatorade with some head pats ♡

#he would so eat old food that she made LATE AT NIGHT and throw up #hes so WEIRD #crack fic #cod imagine #soap cod #gaz cod #task force 141 headcanons #soap headcanons #gaz headcanons #141 sweetheart headcanons #141 sweetheart #hunter's ask lounge ☕️

[sinfulsalutations]

*slides $500 in Monopoly money over*

Got any sub!Hunter and Dom!femreader smut in the back?

(you can ignore this if your requests are closed, I'm not sure if they're open right now)

⋆ ★ *ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ* ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜɪᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ? ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ᴍʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ɪ’ᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴅᴇʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴇɴᴛɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ. ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰɪɴᴇ :)

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Hunter is a keen lover who's always in tune with both his senses and yours, due to his heightened senses but also his natural instinct as a leader.

But when he finds himself in a rather submissive mind space, eagerly ready for you to take the lead, he lets those senses swallow him.

He still has his subconscious checking in to make sure it isn't too much, and if it ever is he'll tell you exactly that, but for the most part, he's letting all the sensations overtake him in the most pleasant way possible.

Speaking of his senses, depriving him of one thrills him in a way he can't explain. Blindfolding or tying him up forces him to solely focus on one sense at a time, amping it up to another level.

Enjoys it when you urge him on to do certain things; "Squeeze my hips. Yeah, just like that. Good." "Look up. Let me look into those gorgeous eyes. There he is." It genuinely makes him crumble in your grasp immediately.

Additionally, he'd never say this out loud (both because he doesn't know how to express it and because he hasn't truly realized it), but he likes soft pampering. Kisses along his jaw, massaging his shoulders as you grind on him, anything that makes him sigh and flutter his lashes. For once, it feels nice to just sit back and be doted on.

That doesn't mean he dislikes it when you fully take control, pin his hands over his head, bounce yourself up and down his cock, and rumble out filthy words into his ear. Tell him to just sit there and take it, be a good boy for you, and his chest is heaving.

You swear you've never seen him choke and stammer so much than when you take his cock in your mouth. He's a mess the moment you slip his blacks off and look up at him with that mischievous grin. You keep his hands away from your hair or body and instead urge him to place them over his head or grip onto the sheets-- "Let me have my fun, Hunter."

Edging is a dangerous game with Hunter. If he isn't in the right mind space or physical capacity, it could lead to a sensory overload and he'll have to tap out. But if it works does it work. You have to urge him to keep his thighs and hips from twitching and bucking up into you when you pepper kitten licks over his length and run the tops of your fingers over his balls. You'll never hear him more depraved than when he gasps out "Mesh'la, I'm so-- fuck, please--"

ragu list: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @andrakass2 @jesjestraverse @crosshairlovebot @wizardofrozz @dangraccoon @lickylickylicky @urmomsmattress @jedi-hawkins @who-would-want-a-broken-heart @cw80831 @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @eyeluvmusic21 @mythical-illustrator @a-single-tulip

#two drabbles in one night? look at me go! #nour writes stuff #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the bad batch #star wars bad batch #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #star wars headcanons #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fic #tbb fanfiction #tbb fic #clone force 99 #sw tbb #bad batch #bad batch hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter tbb #hunter x reader #hunter the bad batch #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter #sw the bad batch #star wars tbb

[viking-raider]

Soothing the Shadows

Summary: You were Marshall's nurse, after he was shot by Simon Stulls. The two of you fall in love, and everything seems perfect, but it's strained by Marshall holding something back from you. His fear of losing you.

Pairing: Walter Marshall/Reader

Word Count: 6.5

Warning: M - Mention of Violence, PTSD, Severe Flashback, Mention of an ugly divorce, Language, Fluff, Alcohol Use, Mental Health battle - SMUT - fingering (F receiving), protected intercourse.

Inspiration: So, for this fic, I sort of meshed Marshall and Sy together into one.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Dating a homicide detective wasn't easy. Especially, when that homicide detective was Captain Walter Marshall.

The pair of you had met after Marshall was injured on the job, having been shot by Simon Stulls and his twin brother. You were the nurse that took care of Marshall, while he recovered from the near fatal wound that rendered him in the Intensive Care Unit for two weeks.

“How are we feeling tonight, Captain Marshall?” You asked, breezing into Marshall's private room, with a bright smile, finding your grumpy and sometimes difficult patient in his bed, one massive arm in a sling and the other working the remote control to his tv.

“Hm.” Marshall huffed back at you, rolling his eyes.

You chuckled at him, not taking it personally. “How's your pain level?” You inquired, checking his medical chart to see the notes from his previous nurse, before moving over to examine the vitals on his monitors. “Better than yesterday?” You asked, lifting a brow in his direction, remembering the discomfort he had been in.

“Six.” He rattled off the number, shrugging his good shoulder.

“Would you like me to get you anything for it?”

“No, I'm fine.” Marshall answered, sighing softly, setting the remote down on the little rolling table next to his bed and raked a hand through his hair. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Is our hospitality that bad?” You quipped, giggling at him, hoping to get him to at least smile. “I could phone the manager.”

Marshall looked up, his blue eyes regarding you for a long moment, making you feel like he was reading your soul, before he finally responded. A twinkle in his gaze. “No, I'd hate to complain to the manager. Especially when there's one bright spot in the hospitality.”

“Well that's-” You gulped, shifting in your rubber nurse's clogs. “That's good to know, Captain Marshall.” You told him, a bit sheepish.

“Marshall.” He corrected you, gently. “Just call me, Marshall.”

“Marshall.” You smirked, nodding your head. “I'm glad you enjoy the hospitality. But I also hope you go home soon. I'm sure your daughter is ready for you too.” You said, changing the subject, so the heat in your cheeks would cool off.

“And, your wife.” You added, a small lump in your throat.

“Oh, she's-”

“Code Blue.” The Hospital P.A crackled over the speakers. “Code Blue. All personnel. Code Blue, room eighteen.”

“Oh crap!” You gasped, adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. “I'm so sorry!” You said quickly, before rushing out of his room.

Sadly, you weren't able to see Marshall again. Your code blue patient took up most of your time and when you were finished with them and your other rounds, Marshall had been released to go home. You were happy for him, even though you were a bit sad that you hadn't been able to say goodbye and see him off.

But you got another opportunity to come your way.

“Hey.” One of your co-workers tapped you on the shoulder as you stood at the nurse's station, filling out a medication request. “There's a super handsome guy asking for you.”

You looked up from the computer. “What?” You frowned at her, confused. “Who?”

“I don't know, I didn't get a name. But he's damned sexy.” She chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over the counter of the nurse's station, looking down the hall and towards the doors that allowed entry onto your floor. You were shocked to see Marshall standing there, reading one of the posters on the wall. “Oh my god!” You gasped, quickly pulling back, before he could see you.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he was one of my patients.” You told her, fussing over your black, whimsical bee, scrubs and hair.

“Well, you must like each other.” She commented, watching you with amusement.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, going by her and trying to act natural and calm, despite being nervous beyond belief. “Marshall, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Is your wound healing?” You asked, trying to be professional.

“Everything's fine.” He smiled at you, instinctively touching his shoulder. “It's healing great.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“I-uh-came to see you.” He confessed, biting the inside of his lip. “I wanted to know, if you'd like to get some coffee with me, sometime?” He asked, shoulders stiffening with resolve.

You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Aren't you married?”

Marshall drew in a deep breath, tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I was married, yes.” He replied, his face darkening. “Angie and I divorced some time ago. It's complicated and not something I'd like to get into.”

“All right, as long as I'm not being a home wrecker by accepting your offer.” You answered, relieved.

“I assure you, you're not.” Marshall said, relief dancing in his blue eyes. “So, when are you next available?”

You looked down at your watch, tilting your head side to side for a moment. “I can take my lunch break right now.” You told him, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

“All right.” He nodded, turning to push open one of the doors behind him, for you.

That day had changed both your and Marshall's lives. You quickly fell in love with each other and craved each other constantly. But there was a drawback to dating Marshall. You hadn't made that step to move in with each other yet, as much as you wanted too. So, you went to one another's place. It was usually Marshall coming over to your flat though, after he got off from his shift at the station. You would make him dinner and the two of you would cuddle up under a blanket on the couch with a glass of wine, or more specifically, a glass of wine for you and a glass of whiskey for him, to watch a movie or one of the shows the two of you had become interested in together.

“Walter.” You giggled, shifting beneath the heavy comforter the two of you were under, trying to watch Peaky Blinders.

“What?” He husked back, turning his head into the side of your face, moaning softly, while his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh again.

“Keep that naughty hand to yourself, Captain.” You teased, turning your face into his.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Marshall replied, feigning innocence.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, smelling the sharp honey and caramel of the whiskey on his breath. “What's this?” You asked, rubbing your legs together against his hand.

“Oh, you mean that hand.” He smirked, gently nudging his nose against yours. “I don't know how it got there, but since it is.” He said, pushing it up to cup you through the thin, purple fabric of your panties.

Your gasp melted into a deep whimper, as Marshall started to rub you, watching you through hooded and lusty blue eyes. You turned, pressing your back against the armrest of the couch and opened your legs, giving Marshall full access to your dripping womanhood. He reached under the quilt, not removing it, to keep the chill of the room off of you, as he all but tore your underwear off your body. Tossing them absently over his shoulder and behind the couch, Marshall's hand was back on your privates within a millisecond.

“Oh Christ.” You mewled, arching your back against his hand, his middle finger slipping between your slick folds as he caressed you, teasing you. “Walt, please!” You begged him, pushing the heel of one of your feet into the top of his thigh, nudging his leg impatiently.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head at you, curving that evil digit into your canal. “I haven't seen you in two days, babe.” He panted, licking his lips. “I want to enjoy it.”

“Then take your fucking shirt off, Marshall!” You barked, outraged and worked up as the tip of his finger grazed your sweet spot.

Marshall laughed, “That requires me to take my hand off of you.” He pointed out, amused by your situation.

You dropped your head back on the couch arm, then sat up, shivering as Marshall's finger reached different angles, and grabbed at his shirt. Bunching the knitted material in your hands, you yanked on it until you managed to pull it off over his head, then tossed it in his face for extra drama. Making him chuckle and toss it back at you, before driving his finger deep into your spot. Caught off guard, your hand flew out, clawing into the exposed skin at the top of his shoulder and leaving very angry crescents behind in their wake.

“Lord have mercy, Marshall!” You cried out, your head flying back, while you rocked on his hand.

“Lay back.” He purred at you, planting a kiss to your fingers. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You always do, Donut.” You teased, laying back again, tugging the blanket up over you as you did.

Marshall blushed slightly at your nickname for him. “I try, Angel.” He replied, gently working his finger inside of you, crooking it to tease your walls, knowing all the places to hit.

Your toes curled and you moaned softly, eyes rolling shut as you rutted against his hand, rolling your hips. Marshall looked at your face, a soft smirk on his own, seeing the pure pleasure you were in. He slipped in a second and started rubbing your clit with his thumb, drawing out a loud sigh from you. The want to keep that look on your face forever was so strong inside of Marshall. You were relaxed in the essence of pleasure and bliss, with no care in the world, other than what his fingers were doing to you.

“Walter, please!” You begged him, brows drawing together as you looked down your face at him.

Smirking, Walter freed his fingers from inside of you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into his lap and a heady kiss. He moved to the edge of the couch and stood, taking you with him, supporting you against his body as he carried you to the bedroom, one big paw rubbing firm circles over your back to keep the flat's chill away, until getting there.

“Why do you keep it so cold in here?” Marshall commented, resting you on the bed.

“I don't know. Guess I'm just used to the chill of the hospital. I don't really pay attention to it, until you show up.” You replied, giggling as you pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed.

“I should start a fire.” He said, glancing at the enclosed fireplace, in the corner of your room, as he stood at the side of your bed, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his tree-trunk thighs.

“You already started one.” You cooed at him, licking your lips at the titanic tent in the front of his boxer briefs, reaching out to palm it through the black material. “A big one, Bear.” You hummed, feeling the hot beast that lived within throb against your palm.

Marshall's eyes fluttered back into their sockets as you fondled him, pressing himself against your hand, growling deep in his throat and chest. You smirked up at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his hairy belly. Smoothing your palm upwards, you curled your fingers around the elastic waistband and slowly peeled his boxers down. Even with anticipation, your eyes grew and you gasped silently, when Marshall's thick and veiny, cut cock sprang heavily free from the confines of the garment.

Reaching into your bedside drawer, you removed a square object from inside and tossed it on one of the pillows, before looking at Marshall.

“Come to me.” You whispered, removing your shirt and heading up the bed.

Looking you over, like a hungry wolf, Marshall stalked up the bed towards you. Moving over you and nuzzling his face into your neck, he nibbled and kissed at the skin there and at your shoulder, while his hands smoothed down your sides, touching every inch of your body. You felt the rub of Marshall's beard as he left love-bites you'd be feeling during your shift later tomorrow. But that didn't bother you, you wanted to feel Walter with you. Always. You had one hand tugging at the curls at the back of his head and the other clawing into one cheek of his rump, as he grabbed at your knees, shoving them wide open to buck against you, his cock dripping against your slickness, mixing with the ultimate finale.

It didn't take love for Marshall's thought of lighting a fire to become nonsensical, the two of you were heated and glistening with sweat, from your combined actions and feelings. Perspiration pearled down Marshall's vast back as he pulled away from you, only slightly, his darkened blue eyes meeting yours in a hungry and sultry gaze, that sent a chill so powerful through your burning body, goose-flesh was raised.

“Mine.” He growled, in a deep pant.

“All yours.” You gulped back, nodding and sucking your lip between your teeth.

Marshall sat up between your legs, and you grabbed at the item you had tossed on the pillow earlier. It was a condom. You tore it open and took out the opaque-red and lubricated rubber, tossing the packaging carelessly to the floor, while Marshall grasped himself at the root, the head of his member changing a shade of purple, to hold his thick cock steady. You carefully rolled the protection down over his length, marveled at how it looked, snug over the throbbing veins. Wrapping your hand around the head of Walter's manhood, you stroked it downward, ensuring the sleeve was secure in place, before reaching up to grab him by the shoulder and pull him down into a heated kiss.

While you kissed, Marshall lined himself up with your weeping entrance. It never seemed mattered how many times the two of you were intimate, you never quite grew accustomed to Marshall's sheer size. Even with the help of being aroused and lubricated, there was always that initial stretch of him easing inside of you, of his girth reshaping you for the billionth time in the two years you had been dating. But it quickly subsided into something so marvelously euphoric, that you couldn't help the soft smile that crossed your lips or the curl of your toes.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his body, an arm encircling your waist and the other around your shoulders, his knees planted into the mattress, as he rocked into you. The wood headboard smacked against the wall behind it, keeping time with each thrust. Thankfully, it was an outer wall, so your next door neighbor wasn't too bothered by the noise, and he was used to your and Marshall's love making, by now.

Good and patient, Preston.

“Christ, Marshall!” You cried out, your walls kneading around him, feeling every furious movement that begged his manhood to release his magic and bring you both into a world of unimaginable bliss.

“Fuck, babe.” He panted back, his hot breath wafting over the skin of your face.

He pressed his temple against yours, letting out small whimpers of effort and moans of pleasure in random intervals. His thrusts lost rhythm and became rougher, as he neared his climax, your own aiding the effort. Marshall throbbed inside of your quivering walls and you felt the muscles of his stomach clench and become rock hard. He made his tell-tale sound, a soft, groaning sigh, as he unloaded inside of the protective barrier between you. Nonetheless, your slick canal struggled to keep a hold of Marshall's unloading and still working cock, feeling it surge inside of you. Your back arched, pushing yourself up against his clenched stomach, nails racking down his sweaty back.

“Marshall!” You cried out, shuttering with each wave of pleasure that washed through you. “Oh god, Marshall.” You whimpered, slowly lowering yourself back down, spent. “I love you.” You sighed softly, after a few moments to catch your breath.

Marshall rolled you both onto your sides, tucking your head under his chin and against his chest. “I love you too.” He whispered back, hugging you hard against him, fingers tangling in the back of your hair.

You struggled to stay awake, not wanting to fall asleep, knowing what it meant, if you did. But you were spent from a long shift, the previous night, little sleep and the exhausted pull of your love making. Soon enough, you were snoring into Marshall's collarbone. But, when you woke with a jolt a few hours later, your heart thundering in your chest, a good enough fire in the fireplace to keep your room warm, but not roast you alive, however you were alone.

“Marshall?” You called out, hoping—praying, he was just watching tv in the living room like he did, on rare occasions. “Donut!” You yelled out a little louder, turning to grab your shirt off the floor and padded into the living room, but found it cold, quiet and empty.

You sighed, realizing Marshall had left. Turning, you went down the hall to the guest room bath and discovered the mirror was still foggy. Marshall would go there to take a shower, before he left, so he wouldn't wake you by using your master bathroom. Usually, when he showered at your place, it meant he was heading straight back into the station to work some more, without bothering to go home. You wondered how many hours your boyfriend had slept, before sneaking off into the night.

“Just one night, Walter Marshall.” You whimpered, stripping your shirt off as you headed to bed again. “That's all I ask of you. Stay one fucking night with me, without vanishing like some sort of ghost.” You sighed, crawling under the blankets.

Marshall scrubbed at his eyes, while trying to focus on the police report in front of him, Harper had given him a new case to work on. It was a double homicide with a few lead suspects, but no solid proof on which of them it could possibly be. He was hitting his wit's end, three shifts, with a four hour sleep between two of them, crashed out on the small couch in his office. He'd only spoken to you through text messages through that time. The two of you had tried to meet up for lunch, but one of his suspects had been hauled into the station and he had to cancel it, so he could interrogate them.

A soft knock sounded on his office door and Commissioner Harper popped in. “How's the case going?” He asked, depositing himself into a chair across from Marshall.

The Brit drew in a deep breath and let it out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That well, huh?” The older law enforcement officer chuckled. “When was the last time you went home?” He inquired, seeing the dark circles under Marshall's bloodshot blue eyes.

Marshall looked at his watch. “Nine hours ago, to shower.” He replied, shooting Harper a look.

“You need to head home.” Harper snorted, shaking his head. “Don't you have a new lady in your life?” He said, lifting a brow at Walter, critically. “You shouldn't be keeping hours at the station, like you were when you were a bachelor, Marshall. I'm sure it drives her fucking crazy.”

“I know.” Marshall sighed heavily, knowing Harper was right. “It does.”

You had scolded Marshall several times about working himself into the ground and not getting a proper night's sleep. He wasn't a bachelor anymore, preferring to be at the station, then sitting alone, in the deafening emptiness of his flat. He definitely was a husband in the middle of getting a divorce, where he'd rather work eighteen hour shifts, against the alternative of going home to another argument or silent treatment from his soon-to-be ex-wife and making his daughter's life a nightmare.

He had you now, and was still acting like he didn't.

“You're right.” He said, flipping the case file closed and locking it away in his desk. “I am going to take the rest of the day off.” He nodded, stretching to his feet.

“And tomorrow.” Harper added, giving Marshall a stern look.

Marshall stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding. “Tomorrow as well.” He conceded, grabbing his jacket from the hook at the back of his office door.

“Hey.” Harper paused, as he stepped out into the hall, turning back to Marshall. “Surprise her. Women love that stuff.” He smirked, giving him a teasing wink before heading off to his own office.

“Yeah.” Marshall nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Thankfully, he knew you had the day off, which made surprising you all the easier to do.

Marshall stopped by his place first, taking a quick shower and changed. Washed up and freshly changed, Marshall went to a small floral shop to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers, then crossed town to your takeaway spot, ordering your favorite dish with something to hit your sweet tooth, before finally heading over to your flat.

Situating things in his hands, Marshall knocked on your door and waited for you to answer, his heart pounding for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. At least, until the door cracked open and you peeked out, then his pulse calmed.

“Hey, Sugar butt.” He grinned at you, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

You swung the door open, excited to see Marshall. “What are you doing here, Donut? I thought you had to work!” You said, bouncing on your toes towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I got some sound advice, and I decided to take it.” He replied, bending his head to kiss the top of yours. “So, I have the rest of the day off, and was told I'm taking tomorrow off as well.” He told you, holding up the bag of food and your bouquet of flowers.

“There's no one else I want to spend it with.”

“What about Fae?” You asked, your tone teasing.

Marshall rolled his eyes at you. “I'm far too boring and uncool.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“Well, you're entertaining and cool enough for me, Donut.” You giggled, pulling him into your flat.

“Thank the heavens for that.” He smiled, letting you drag him inside and into the kitchen.

“What did you get me?” You asked, dying to know what he had in the takeaway bag.

“Things you eat.” Marshall smirked, side eyeing you. “Hey, hands off!” He chuckled, batting your hand away from the bag. “Go pour us something to drink, Sugar butt!” He said, popping you on the butt and kissed your neck.

“My sweet detective, you drank all your Rich & Rare whiskey, the last time you were here.” You informed him, giving him a gentle pat on the chest.

“Oh fuck, I did.” Marshall sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

You smiled, moving around him to go into a cabinet. “Luckily for you, you have a very thoughtful partner.” You said, pulling down a bottle of the amber colored spirit. “Who noticed it and bought another bottle for you.”

Marshall turned around, cracking a smile at you. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand for a moment, before answering. “You got shot.” You deadpanned.

“Right.” He nodded, taking the bottle from you, then turned back to the food, pulling it out and putting it on the counter, before taking down plates.

You took down glasses and set one of them next to the plates, before grabbing your chilled bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, wiggling your brows at Walter as he moved by you for the fridge himself. Winking at you, Marshall grabbed a black case from inside the freezer and turned back, smirking as he found you already nibbling on your food. Shaking his head, he set the case on the counter and opened it, before cracking the seal on the bottle of whiskey, pouring some into his glass.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, opening the case and lifting a brow in your direction.

“It's been good.” You answered, getting your takeaway on the plate. “Slept a whole extra hour and a half.” You snorted, smirking to yourself. “Took a bath, instead of a shower, which felt incredible, and started to catch up with all of the shows I'm behind on.”

“Sounds like a day off well spent.” Marshall nodded, pulling out a pair of small tongs and removed a medium sized, chilled, black whiskey stone that was nestled inside and placed it in his glass. “I hope mine goes as well.”

“Well, we can make that happen.” You told him, holding a fork out to him.

Marshall grinned at you, taking the fork. “Yeah, we can.”

The two of you took your food and drinks to the couch, finding something to watch together, while you ate. You smirked, however, watching your Donut doze on and off, his plate balanced on his knee. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you gently took his and set it beside yours, you grabbed his hand and coaxed him up to his feet.

“Mmm.” He grunted, responding to your nudges towards the bedroom.

“Ssshh.” You cooed back, not wanting him to stir from the soft doze he'd fallen into.

Getting him to your room, you lightly pushed him back, to sit on your bed, stifling your giggle at his 'umph' as he landed. Kneeling down, you untied the laces of his boots, biting your lip as you gingerly pulled them off, but Marshall barely stirred as they came free from his feet. You managed to get his shirt off, before laying him back on the bed and covering him up.

“Sleep tight, detective.” You whispered, stroking the curls off his forehead for a moment, listening to his deep and easy breathing.

Tip-toeing out of the room, you gathered up the hardly touched plates and wrapped them up, storing them away in the refrigerator for later on, carefully poured the remaining whiskey Marshall hadn't polished off into the bottle, rinsing the stones, slipping them back into their case and into the freezer. Rubbing your face, you stripped and crawled into bed with Marshall, snuggling in against his side with a smile, excited to be falling asleep with him, knowing there was a high likelihood he'd be there, when you woke up.

What you hadn't expected was how you woke up with Marshall.

You were too deeply asleep to even dream, comfortable and warm. It was pure heaven, that you were hardly aware of the loud bang, likely someone slamming a door shut or the lid of a dumpster being dropped; nothing that was significant enough to draw you from your slumber. Nothing, but the jolt and gasp beside you. You started to pull to the surface of consciousness, struggling to understand what was going on, before you felt a pair of abnormally strong tentacles wrap around your frame. Jerking you against something solid, the air was knocked out of your lungs. While you were dragged over the edge of the bed, your stomach clenched as you dropped to the floor, crying out at the force of the sudden stop.

Realization flooded you, feeling the huffing, puffing and mountainous body of Marshall move over you, one arm still crushing around your middle to pin you against him, one thick thigh wedged between yours. If you didn't know Walter as well as you did, you probably would have started screaming at the position he had you in.

But you knew him, and you knew there was something deeply wrong with your boyfriend. Even your nursing instincts were going off for something being out of place. Marshall was panting like a wounded animal, his nostrils flaring with each breath, every muscle in his body was rock hard and rigid, but he was trembling. His teeth were gritted, like he was in pain and his blue eyes were wide and on high alert, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

“Marshall?” You whispered, apprehensive to make a sound, almost afraid that he'd snap at you, but his arm only tightened, making you hiss and wiggle underneath him, but he only held you tighter. “All right.” You groaned, relaxing to rest your forehead against the carpet, taking a deep breath of relief when his arm eased against your stomach.

You racked your brain, he was a horror hardened Detective for the Manitoba police force, what could cause Marshall to react to this extreme? Could this be a flashback from Simon?

You took a deep breath, knowing you had to help Marshall out of this, to let him know he was in a safe place. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for whatever reaction he gave you. Wiggling your arm out from underneath of your body, ignoring his attempt to keep you still, you propped yourself up the best you could under his weight.

“Marshall.” You said, keeping your voice calm and as if nothing was wrong, reaching back to rest your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It's all right, Walt. It's just a flashback.” You told him, pressing your head against his chest. “I'm all right. We're all right.” You reassured him, moving your hand to his neck, beginning to massage the tight muscles there.

“We're safe. There's nothing and no one here to harm us. I promise.”

“Unless, you look in my closet and notice the alarming ratio of scrub outfits to regular ones.” You said, making yourself giggle, hoping a light joke would cause a crack in the wall of his PTSD, since Marshall had always enjoyed your sense of humor.

But Walter didn't seem to react to any of it, though you didn't allow yourself to become discouraged.

“What can I do?” You cooed at him, wondering what was going through his mind. “Please, tell me how I can help you, Donut?”

Marshall abruptly stopped trembling against you and seemed to relax on top of you, but didn't move any farther. You took the win, patiently waiting to see if he made any further improvements. They took several more moments, with you still massaging his neck and just laying there with him, but Marshall finally seemed to regain some sense of himself.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled, moving off of you at last.

You floundered for a moment, sitting up to rest your back against the side of your bed, unsure how to reply. “Mar-” You started, only to have him jump to his feet and storm into your en suite, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Okay.” You sighed, nodding curtly at the door. “You need space.” You said, to the air, then pulled yourself up and pulled on a pair of shorts shorts with a tank top.

Going out to the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of tea, pausing for a moment as you carried it out of the kitchen to fortify it with a small splash of Marshall's whiskey, before going to sit in the living room. You stared at the turn off tv, regarding your blurry reflection as you thought about what had happened in the bedroom with Marshall, then abruptly locked himself in the bathroom. The shower had turned on not long afterwards, making you suppose he was taking one to wake himself up and clear his head. You were still worried about him though, he had just turned into a statue after yanking you off the bed like that, forcing you to be still, like he was afraid something would happen, if either of you moved.

An hour and all your hot water later, Marshall emerged from your bedroom, his eyes pointed at the floor as he stood just passed the doorway. You set your empty cup on the coffee table and turned to look at him over the back of the couch, his wet curls were combed back off his forehead, making him look almost boyish.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled again, folding his arms tightly over his chest, still refusing to look at you.

“I know you're sorry, Marshall.” You whispered back at him, your heart aching. “Please, sit down with me?” You begged, patting the cushion beside you.

Marshall lingered in place for a moment, before shuffling over to you and sitting down, arms still crossed. You stared at the circular and slightly puckered scar just below his collarbone, the purplish skin stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin of his chest, lightly hidden under the dark fur that covered his torso.

“I'm sorry, if I scared you.” Marshall elaborated more on his apology. “I also understand, if you don't want to see me anymore.” He added, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“What?” You giggled, surprised. “Why would I break up with you, Marshall?”

He finally looked at you, brows creased like it was obvious. “Because of what just happened.” He growled, his jaw muscles flexing. “I could have hur-” His eyes searched you for any marks, an almost frantic look coming into them.

“You didn't hurt me, Walter.” You assured him. “You startled the hell out of me, with that wake up. You've caused me to be very concerned. But hurt me, you have not.”

“This time.” He mumbled, relaxing back into his broodiness.

“Tell me what happened, Donut.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “I know you had a flashback. Why? Was it because of Simon?”

Marshall sighed, bouncing his leg. “It wasn't Simon.” He replied, licking his lips. “Before I was a homicide detective, I was in the British Army, I served three tours.” He paused and regarded you, deciding it was time to give you everything.

“I met Angela after I finished boot camp. She was in London for a holiday. We hit it off, and started a long distance relationship. I went on my first tour and everything was reasonably fine. I rose through the ranks quickly through my tours, I initially intended to be career Army. But between the second tour and my last one, Angie got pregnant with Fae. Which complicated things. Angie didn't want to raise her away from her parents in Manitoba, she also didn't want me being in the British Army, since it meant I'd be stationed overseas, away from them and being deployed constantly.”

“That is quite the situation.” You nodded, folding your legs on the cushion.

“It was.” Marshall nodded, his eyes distant. “My second tour had been rough, it was the first time I was given command of a squad of men. We got through it and all my men got home. But that's when some of my PTSD started. Loud noises would make me start or put me on edge. It was my last deployment, when I didn't renew my contract, so I could move to Canada with Angie and Fae, that it went through the roof. My men and I got pinned down by a group of rebels and I ended up losing two of them, despite the effort to keep them alive.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing on an imaginary spot on the rug.

“Marshall?” You whispered, reaching out to rest your hand on his knee, feeling the muscle there jump slightly.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his gaze clearing. “That's when I started having reactive flashbacks, like tonight. At first, Angie took them in stride. I thought they'd be better if I was back in 'that environment', so I joined the Manitoba SWAT team, and it worked for a short time. But Angie worried that was just as dangerous as being in the Army and didn't want Fae losing me.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “She had a point. SWAT could be just as dangerous at times. Get a person in the corner, when they're desperate, it doesn't matter if you're in a war-zone. They'll do anything to get out of that spot. Including killing you.”

“So, what happened?” You asked, biting your lip.

“I transferred to homicide.” He chuckled, smirking like he couldn't believe it himself. “Anyway, over time, Angie couldn't take my flashbacks anymore and we slept in separate bedrooms for the last four years of our marriage. They were a catalyst for our divorce.” He admitted, pressing his lips together, pained. “She even used them to gain full custody of Fae. Like, I was some sort of danger to my own daughter.”

“I don't think you're dangerous, Marshall.” You confessed, moving closer to him.

Marshall huffed at you. “Yeah, that's because I won't allow myself to fall asleep around you.”

“This is why you ghost me after we've made love?” You asked, looking at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” He nodded, staring back at you. “I'm terrified of something like that happening and losing you because of it.” He barked, jerking a hand towards the bedroom. “That I'll have an episode and I'll hurt you or it's just too much baggage for you to take.”

“Oh, you sweet Donut.” You giggled at him, grinning. “When was the last time you even had a flashback, before tonight?”

“I don't know!” He barked, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Two or three years.”

“That's not bad!” You said, wrapping your arms around his. “And we made it through this one.”

“I don't want you to make it through them.” He whined at you, looking like a hurt puppy.

“Walter Donut Marshall, I helped you get through being shot.” You grinned at him, stubbornly. “I'm pretty darn sure, I can help you through more flashbacks. You're not going to scare me away. I'm not going to break up with you. I love you, you silly Detective.” You cupped his bearded face in your palms.

“Stop running away from me, let me love you, shadows and all.”

“I have some dark shadows.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your hand.

“Don't we all, Donut? Don't we all!” You giggled, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

#Viking-Raider Fics #Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Marshall #Walter Marshall x Reader #Walter Marshall/Reader #Marshall x Reader #Marshall/Reader #Nomis #Night Hunter #Walter Marshall Fanfic #walter marshall fanfiction #Walter Marshall fandom #Smut #Fluff #PTSD #Soothing the Shadows *fic* #Soothing the Shadows #Henry Cavill fandom

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Marked By The Wolf

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: ~4.8K (ya waited extra-long; ya get an extra-long chapter)

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: It’s the night of the full moon. The plan? Invite Sy over to the cabin to keep an eye on him in case he shifts. WCGW? 

Warnings: verbal fight, angst

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me, guys! And I see y’all reblogging the masterlist for the series. And I thank you so much for keeping this story alive! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. Cuz ya girl was struggling with this chapter for many moons.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Over the next day or so, you get to know Jace. You’d learned his full first name, but “only ko’u makuahine calls me Jason”. Growing up in Hawaii shaped the man he is today, and he misses home a lot. But with Walter in his pack, and being Faye’s godfather, he’s made his own little family.

For a while, it seems like he may be flirting with you. But that quickly fades into something else. You’re only mildly upset when he refers to you as kaikuahine. Firstly, because you had no idea what it meant. Secondly, because when you found out it meant ‘sister’, you had to remind yourself that you have a perfectly great werewolf boyfriend of your own already.

‘Calm down, girl,’ you thought, thinking of your eager beaver.

Walter notices the way your demeanor changes and takes your hand, leading you upstairs. Your confusion only amuses Jace, who seems to know something you don’t. Once you make it into Walter’s bedroom, you are spun against the door. He attacks your neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive flesh until you tangle your fingers in his chestnut curls. Your mind reels, wondering what’s gotten into him.

And then it hits you.

He’s…jealous!

Oh, this is too good. That’s twice tonight that he’s been struck with jealousy. Earlier with Sy’s thirst trap and now with your flirtatious nature. You are beyond flattered, but you refuse to let this man get too far gone. With your hand in his hair, you tighten your fingers and pry him from your neck.

Once his face is in front of yours, you notice his wild eyes where black replaces blue. He looks ready to eat you, and as much as you would like that, you decide to try and calm the beast within.

“Walter, baby? I need you to calm down for a sec,” you beg, both hands tangling in his hair to soothe his soul, “Come on back to me, baby.”

Blinking once, then twice, his eyes finally focus on you, and the trance is gone. His giant paws rush to your face and then to the tender skin of your neck where his teeth were grazing. He winces when you grimace at the feel of his thumb on your sore flesh.

“Pup, I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I was−”

“Jealous?” you supply, already knowing what this was.

“I can’t help it. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. It’s jealousy, sure. But it feels deeper than that. I felt the need to mark you as mine. You’re sort of a natural flirt, you know that?” he probes, a soft smile on his face.

“Well, I mean, I can see that. I guess I’ve never really thought about it. No one has ever brought it up,” you explain, looking back on all the times that men thought you were flirting with them but were just being nice. 

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure that Jace knew you were taken. He has an effect on women,” he expresses, “But it seems he only sees you as a sister, so I don’t have to worry about you two riding off into the sunset, now do I?” 

“Wow, that was kinda bitchy. But also, incredibly hot that you thought I could be influenced by another big pretty werewolf,” you tease, leaning up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on the end of his nose before pushing back from the door so you could open it and leave.

“You think he’s pretty?” Walter shouts after you.

You laugh, swiftly jogging down the stairs to find an equally amused Jace sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, perfectly at home.

Trying to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed, you plop down next to him on the couch. While you are snuggling into his side, he chuckles and jokes that you should watch out for “the big, bad wolf”. Just as the words leave his mouth, Walter appears on the other side of you, having leapt over the couch. You’re officially squeezed in between the two large wolves, and you suddenly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Between the warmth radiating from both men, the way they commented on the Forged in Fire episode playing in the background, and the long day finally catching up with you, you had no choice but to fall asleep. You remember leaning your head against Jace’s beefy shoulder after he splayed both arms along the back of the couch. At some point during the night, you awake to find yourself sprawled across both of their laps. Your head is in Walter’s lap and your blanket-covered feet are shoved under Jace’s thigh.

The television screen asking if you’re still watching illuminates the faces of the snoring wolves at either side of you. Walter’s hand on your shoulder twitches as he feels you shifting. Shuffling your ankles, Jace sleepily readjusts to give you room before lowering his thigh back over your feet. All of this was done while they were asleep as if it was second nature to want to keep you safe and warm.

And you weren’t going to complain about being in a literal wolf pile. Instead, you snuggle into your blanket and let yourself drift off again.

When you awaken, the mid-morning sun is flooding through the windows. You’re still on the couch, but no longer surrounded by your wolf-shaped furnaces. Getting up from the couch, you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and go in search of coffee. 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you brush past where Walter is plating some waffles. You make it to the coffee machine and pour yourself a cup, adding in your sugar and cream and stirring it until it hits that perfect shade. Taking that first sip is nirvana. As the temperature of the hot beverage slides down your throat, you are warmed from the inside out. Now, you can officially say you have woken up.

You turn around to lean against the counter and are surprised to see both wolves looking at you and smiling. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just we were trying to get your attention, but I see Walter was right about you loving java. You have your priorities straight, is all,” Jace winks at you before sipping his coffee.

Walter chuckles and shoves a plateful of waffles, bacon, and eggs to one of the empty seats and nods for you to eat. “Don’t worry, Pup. I think it’s cute that you need your morning fuel before intelligent social interaction.”

“Thanks, Wolfie,” you hum, leaning in to peck him on the cheek before sitting down to tuck into your plate.

“And the nicknames are elevating my sugar levels as we speak,” Jace teases, expertly catching the waffle that Walter throws his way.

“Look, Jace and I have an idea. We just need you to put the pieces in motion,” Walter begins, explaining the plan to you while you eat. You stayed mostly silent, letting him lay everything out.

Jace pops in here and there with a few tweaks when he sees you start to feel a bit overwhelmed, “If at any time you feel uncomfortable, don’t hesitate. We’re there in case anything happens.”

“I guess I have a call to make. Oh, and do you fellas think you can go grocery shopping? I need a few things if I wanna make sure I have enough to feed all of you,” you lament, factoring in that Sy used to eat you out of house and home on multiple occasions. Might as well have too much than too little. You give Wolfie and Jace your shopping list and head upstairs to shower and make a very important phone call.

Early evening rolls in and you are relishing the smell of your pot roast with vegetables simmering as it permeates the first floor of the house. Wolfie has been at your side for most of the afternoon and even now because you’ve been like a chicken with your head cut off, anxious nerves making you fuss over every little thing. 

And he couldn’t blame you for being on high alert. He did ask you to invite over your ex-fiancé during a full moon, under the guise of getting together for a football game, so that he and Jace could find out if Sy is a werewolf. ‘A simple plan,’ said no one in this situation.

Olivia was invited over to help you set up and possibly help you with cooking. But alas, fair Olivia has found her Prince Charming in Jace. And just as Walter said, he does have an effect on women. You have to stop and giggle to yourself as she throws her head back in laughter and touches his arm, her signature move. Great, those two can swoon each other all night while you try and keep the peace between a wolf and a hard place.

The roast was not going to cook any faster with you standing over the crock pot, so you step away from the kitchen and join the others as they sit in the living room. Jace and Liv sit on the couch as Walter sits in one of the loungers. Just as you sit down to rest your bones in the other chair, you notice the guys exchanging a look. 

You hear the rumble of Sy’s old pickup and your heart drops into your stomach. You shoot up from your seat and adjust your turtleneck dress that hugs your body like a glove before walking to the front door. You step outside as Sy is pulling into the driveway. Swallowing your apprehension, you walk across the lawn to meet him. 

Smiling as he exits his truck, Sy wraps you up in a bear hug. When he lifts you off the ground, you squeak, and he just laughs before putting you back down. You get a whiff of him, and you feel an instant urge to bury your nose in his neck, or his perfectly trimmed beard. Fighting that urge, you playfully swat at Sy’s meaty, flannel-clad bicep and try not to stare at his veiny forearms. 

The man always had great arms; you would have complimented him on them once upon a time. But that was a long time ago, and even though you wanted to devour him where he stood, you weren’t about to let him know that. His head was big enough without you adding your horniness to it.

He steps to the truck bed and reaches a hand in to pick up a case of your favorite beer. He seems pretty pleased with himself and not at all nervous about meeting your new boyfriend. You should’ve known better than to think he would miss the opportunity to annoy your current beau.

You lead him inside where he immediately sniffs the air and exclaims, “Oh, my God! Please tell me that is your pot roast.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and nervously reply, “Um, yeah. It’s probably just about done if you want some.”

“If I want some? Of course, it’s my favorite meal,” Sy earnestly comments, and you can’t help but bashfully thank him.

A throat is cleared, and Walter appears at your side, planting a nuzzling kiss on your neck as he snakes an arm around you, making you giggle. 

“Walter, this is Sy. Sy, this is Walter, my boyfriend,” you introduce them, smiling to yourself as they offer a hand for a handshake and exchange pleasantries.

“Pleasure ta meetcha, Walter.” “Likewise, Sy.” 

They were still shaking each other’s hands until you realized they were having a staring contest. 

“Seriously?!” you gripe, equally mad at both of them, “You’re both grown men, right?” You push through their still-joined hands and go into the kitchen.

Olivia rises from the couch and admonishes them as well, “Good going, guys,” as she follows you into the kitchen.

“What?” they say in unison, looking at the only other man in the room. Jace shakes his head, looking between the two of them and taking a pull off his beer.

Walter walks into the kitchen, already apologizing as he approaches where you are sitting at the table. He takes your hand in his and holds it against his chest. It’s less what he says, and more of how he says it. He sounds genuine and he means every word. You peck him on the cheek, forgiving him. Olivia makes sure to tease you about how cute you two are.

Sy saunters in once Walter exits, placing the case of beer on the kitchen counter before opening it, removing two bottles, and handing one to you. Clinking the neck of his bottle against yours, he uncaps his and takes and takes a long pull. Taking a long look at you, he leans back and surveys your level of anger, trying to assess exactly how mad you are.

“Walter seems nice,” he starts in that fatherly tone that always gets a smile out of you. 

You shake your head and laugh despite yourself wanting to be mad at him. “You know, he actually is very nice. Just give him a chance to surprise you before you hate his guts, ok? That’s all I ask.”

“Oh, is that all? Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he grumbles, pouting for a second. “Look, I’ll be on my best behavior like Church on Sunday if I can get some of that pot roast.” He turns those blue topaz eyes on you, and you’re putty in his hands, suddenly wishing Liv wasn’t in the room to watch that little moment. 

You rise from your seat, dishing out some of the roast and potatoes and carrots onto a plate for Sy, and place it in front of him. You light up when he closes his eyes at the first bite. His groan of satisfaction is more than enough to signal that you did a great job. But the pat he gives your knee is so warm and so intimate that your muscles instantly react to his touch, wishing it lingered for a second more.

“Liv, can Sy and I have a second to talk?” you plead, hoping that she would give you some space.

“Sure. I’ll just go back to fawning over Jace. He’s so pretty I wanna cry,” she professes, patting your shoulder as she exits the kitchen.

Your eyes follow Olivia as she leaves, and then they snap back to where Sy is sitting smiling at you. And you know this particular smile well. 

“Sy, why are you smiling at me like that? You said you would be on your best behavior and that smile is not your best behavior,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, “I know that smile got me to do a lot of things back in the day.”

“A lot of fun things come to mind,” he murmurs, bringing his beer up to his lips to drain before rising to get another and lean on the counter, “But that is not why I’m here tonight. Don’t worry, I’m only here to make sure my favorite girl’s being taken care of. I will be a perfect gentleman, even to yer old man.”

Rising from your seat, you finally open your beer and stand next to him. Taking a sip, you bump his shoulder with yours. “One question I have for you. Why did you agree to come over? I mean, you could have hung up the phone or cursed me out when I asked you over to spend time with me. At my boyfriend’s cabin. In the woods. Just saying that now makes me wonder what was going through your head.”

“Not gonna lie, I loved seeing you the other day. Even though you weren’t exactly pleased to see me, you still told me to be careful out there in the woods. Look, I like having you in my life. If that means I have you as a friend, it’s much better than not having you at all,” he confesses, and your world shatters around you when you look up into his eyes and see his sincerity.

You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t take shape and you’re left looking for the answer in his face. The eyes you got lost in a million times before. The lips you kissed every chance you got. Standing this close, you can breathe each other’s breath. If you only stood on your tippy-toes and leaned in, you’d be right−

“Am I interrupting something?” Olivia’s voice snaps you back to reality and you put some space between you and Sy. She walks in between you two to grab another beer. She gives Sy a look before turning her attention to you, “Your boyfriend’s wondering where you are, bee-tee-dubs.” She throws out her arm, gesturing for you to lead the way back to the living room instead of finishing your conversation. You miss her giving Sy another pointed stare before following you out.

The night goes on as planned, at first. You all watch a college football game, Walter’s alma mater vs their rivals, who just happen to be Sy’s alma mater. You and Sy met after college, and he mentioned having played lacrosse, but he’s never shown interest in football. Until tonight, of course.

It’s been a long time since you and Sy spent time together, but you know his temperament. And he’s off. He doesn’t look like himself either, as if he’s covering up something. With the way that Walter and Jace keep sharing looks, you see he is on their radar as well.

Olivia and Jace occupy the two loungers, so you are sitting in between Walter and Sy on the couch. How lucky! You’re in the perfect spot to listen to Sy rooting loudly for his team and making snide comments all because he doesn’t wanna sit next to you and your new boyfriend. 

Walter, on the other hand, is quiet for the most part but trembling with anger. He’s letting Sy get to him, and you can’t stand it anymore. You’re suddenly jealous of Olivia who fell asleep halfway into the game.

You unwrap yourself from around Walter and turn to Sy. “Kitchen. Now.”

He doesn’t answer and mutely follows you, taken aback when you turn on him once you’re both in the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing? You are being such an ass. I’m trying to hold out an olive branch, but you are not meeting me in the middle, Sy,” you snap, feeling like you could spit fire.

“And why did you even invite me? To parade your new man all over me? I thought maybe we could try and be friends, but now I see all you wanna do is remind me that I wasn’t good enough for you,” Sy erupts, his voice booming and full of rage. 

“That’s not fair,” you gasp.

“All’s fair in love, Bug,” he cautions, sweat starting to drip down his forehead, “Look, I’m gonna go before either of us says something we’ll regret.” He turns and storms out of the kitchen before you can step any closer to him, but you are on his tail when he steps out of the front door.

You reach him, putting your hand on his shoulder as you try to stop him. He turns back to you, his eyes closed in a pained expression. His skin is flushed as he rips open his flannel, making it easier for you to see his Adonis belt just above his jeans. The bite mark is nowhere to be seen, having already healed. When he starts to hyperventilate, you try to soothe him by calling his name. Fast as lightning, Walter appears between you and Sy.

“Sy, you have to try and stay calm. You aren’t making this easy on yourself. Let it happen,” Walter holds his hands out, showing he means no harm as he tries to step closer to Sy. Walter starts to shift after removing his sweater and jeans.

“Back off, man,” Sy warns, feeling like he could explode with the heat beneath his skin.

“You can do this, just open your eyes,” Walter replies, before his mouth becomes a snout and talking is impossible.

But when Sy finally opens his eyes, they start to glow. His neck twists at a freakish angle, the sounds of bones crunching has you terrified. Reddish-brown fur sprouts out of his skin as his hands stretch into clawed paws. His confused screams are horrifying. Jace’s booming voice is talking over his cries, talking him through the transformation. 

Doubling over, Sy grunts in agony as he falls on all fours. Letting out a howl, his jeans fall away as he transforms for the first time. You scream, taking a step back when he sniffs the air and he takes one step toward you. 

Sy paces back and forth in front of Walter, seeming to weigh his options. Walter’s wolf form stands an inch or two taller than Sy as he puts distance between you and the new wolf.

Just as the tension is insurmountable, a throat is cleared, and you all look to see Jace standing in the driveway. Nonchalant, but his eyes keenly take in the scene in front of him as he nods at Walter. Olivia is at Jace’s side, dumbfounded by what she is witnessing. When she notices that rumbling sound coming from Jace is him growling, she throws away fear in place of curiosity.

The two wolves are kicking dust up with their feet, squaring off until Jace steps a bit closer to back up his brother. Sy had a chance of maybe beating Walter. But a new wolf up against two bonded brother wolves? No way in hell. 

You step in between the three of them. Holding out your hands, you plead with them not to fight. Walter’s nose nudges at your legs and he huffs in Sy’s face. Walter shifts back, picking up his jeans to put back on, and crossing his arms across his massive chest.

Walter and Jace move closer to Sy as he snarls at them until he sees you, clinging to Olivia. Tears fall from your eyes and something inside of Sy breaks. Looking to you, he can see the fear on your face and you wonder if that is what causes him to want to shift back into human form. The two brothers talk Sy down, telling him how to return to human form.

Once his bones have settled and the whining howls stop, Sy is in the fetal position on the lawn. Shivering, sweaty, and scared. His clothes are ruined, but you think you remember seeing a blanket in the truck bed earlier. You ask Olivia to get the blanket while you caress Sy’s face. 

Once the blanket is around his middle, you accept help from Walter to lift him up. Sy uses his last ounce of energy to push Walter away. 

Coming back to himself, Sy refocuses his anger on Walter. “This has nothing to do with you. Gonna need you to step aside,” Sy fumes, cranky from the changes he doesn’t understand he’s going through.

“That’s just not gonna happen. Maybe if you weren’t trying to move in on what’s mine, I’d be sorry for what I’ve done,” Walter seethes, “After all, I’m the one that bit you.”

You and Sy are both in a state of shock but for different reasons. Sy just found out werewolves are real, and your boyfriend just referred to you as “what’s his'. 

“You did this to me?” Sy’s rage peaks.

“Hey, hey. Focus on my voice, come back. You don’t wanna do this,” you trail off as Sy calms down. 

His irises are back to their brilliant blue and you can see recognition in them. He looks tired, but he is no worse for wear.

“Can we get outta here? Go someplace we can just…talk?” Sy insists.

You think for a second about how pissed you are at Walter for being extremely callous about turning Sy, not to mention talking about you as if you were a piece of property to be owned. You turn to look back at Walter before answering Sy.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you affirm, putting one of Sy’s arms around your neck to help him walk back to his truck. 

You watch Jace stand in front of Walter to stop him from following after you. “Let her cool off, you did just kinda refer to her as ‘what’s mine’, and generally women don’t like that outside of the bedroom.”

Olivia steps over to Walter, putting a hand on his shoulder, her expression calm and collected. “He won’t hurt her. He cares too much about her to do that.”

You get into the driver’s seat after putting Sy in the passenger side, not allowing him to drive. You caution a glance at Walter, instantly regretting looking at his mournful face. Turning the car on, you back out of the driveway and drive out to Sy’s place. 

As you drive there from muscle memory, you look over at Sy now and then. The streetlights of the town dash across his solemn face and bare chest as he sleeps. You almost don’t want to wake him when you make it to his house, he looks so peaceful and not like his life has been turned upside-down. You wake him with the back of your hand smoothing down his face. He grabs it, lost for a moment before he sees your face and where he is.

You help him get inside and suddenly feel exhausted as well. You loiter in the living room while he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen. You didn’t really plan how you were going to get back to Walter’s cabin tonight. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to go back tonight.

Sy comes back out, gulping down water from his glass while holding the blanket low around his middle. 

“Is it okay if we wait to talk? I’m tired as hell. I’ll take the couch if that’s alright?” You ask, sitting down on the couch and starting to move the pillows.

“You’re not staying out here. You’re sleeping in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch. I’ll grab you something to sleep in,” he rattles on, moving to the bedroom as you stand from the couch and look at your feet.

Sy comes back out to the living room. He’s barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of grey sweatpants. He just can’t help himself, you think.

“I left you a shirt and some shorts on the bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?” he advises, using a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the bedroom.

You laugh when you see Sy left you his Mötley Crüe shirt. While putting on the shirt and the boxers, you look at the bed and you know that you don’t want to sleep alone. You don’t care that this will only further complicate your relationship, but you need to not be alone right now. Your bare feet pad across the wood floor as you go back out to the living room. 

Sy hears you and picks his head up to look at you. “You alright, Bug?”

“I don’t wanna sleep alone. I know that’s probably−”

Sy was already up and ushering you back into the bedroom before you could finish your sentence. You pull back the covers so you both can climb in. You enter first and then he slides under the blanket next to you. He lays on his back, you on your side facing away from him. You wiggle your body backward until you come into contact with his warmth. You reach back for his arm and pull it around you.

“Is this okay?” you hesitate, suddenly afraid that you’re asking too much.

“Yeah. S’ok,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your neck. If he notices the shiver that goes down your spine, you’re grateful that he doesn’t mention it.

“Good night, Sy,” you murmur, yawning at the end of your sentence.

“G’night, Bug,” he breathes.

As you drift off to sleep, you think how different you imagined this day ending. You didn’t expect to be in your ex’s arms tonight instead of Walter’s. But you did expect to be in a werewolf’s embrace. Sy’s breath evens out behind you, the rising and falling of his chest against your back is enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

To be continued...

A/N: I would love to know what you think of this chapter!

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @milknhonies @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @cardierreh15 @viking-raider @imaslutforcuddles @ilovetaquitosmmmm @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @calwitch @meanlilbean @samahenoyrhye @openup-yourmind @juliaorpll78 @princessaxoxo @toooldforobsessions @carrie80reads @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @evansabove1981 @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hannah9921 @mayloma @inlovewith-books @fluffy-little-demon @caramariehurst @jvanilly @livisss @sofiebstar @posiemax

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #werewolf!walter marshall #night hunter au #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #the howling in claw creek forest

[adriennebarnes]

On The Job

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Hispanic/Latina!Reader

Summary: Walter Marshall is a protective man by nature, it’s part of being a dad. But being this overprotective with his detective girlfriend can cause some issues

A/N: just a random blurb, I have NO IDEA how real cases like this work so…hope you understand it

Walter and Y/N have been dating for a few months but they’ve been working together for years. However, one case may put a strain on their relationship.

They entered the house with their guns and flashlights in hand.

“Okay, you check the basement and I’ll go upstairs.” Y/N said.

“Are you sure want to split up?” Walter asked.

“Walter, It’s fine, we’ll cover more ground this way.” Y/N said and headed upstairs. Walter headed to the basement slowly, trying not to make much noise in case the kidnapper is near.

“Y/N, what do you see?” Walter asked on the walkie-talkie.

“I found disturbing things…but he’s not here. The closet has a fucking wall of pictures of teen girls.” Y/N said.

“Please be careful up there.” Walter said as he walked further into the basement and saw 3 girls chained up to a wall in their underwear with duct tape over their mouths. “Sh, everything is okay, I’ll get you out of here.” Walter started looking for the key to unlock these chains, or at least some bolt cutters. Everything was going well until Walter heard a gunshot. “I’ll be back.” Walter ran upstairs and saw Y/N standing over the kidnapper. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Im fine, did you find the captives?” Y/N asked

“Yeah. I’ll take him and you go downstairs.” Walter said as he got the kidnapper off the floor, out him in handcuffs, and walked outside while Y/N released the girls and looked for clothes to cover them up.

“We’ll take you to the hospital, we’ll get you sorted, okay?” Y/N said, trying to comfort them. She helped them out of the house and got them to the ambulance. She met up with Walter.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, you’re not hurt, right?” Walter asked, looking over Y/N.

“I’m perfectly fine, okay.” Y/N said, but as she walked, she felt a pain on her left side. Walter looked over at her with a worried look in his face.

“I’m going to lift up your shirt, okay?” Walter said and when he did, he saw a stab wound. “Fuck, I need to get you to the hospital.” Walter said. They drove to the hospital and the doctor was stitching up Y/N’s wound.

“Alright, you are all set, you just need to clean your stitches everyday with warm water and antibacterial soap. Don’t make any strenuous movement so the stitches won’t open up and keep it covered until your next appointment in two weeks.” The doctor said and he left the hospital room.

“It’s good that the stab wound didn’t hit a kidney or anything, you’re lucky.” Walter said.

“Do you think I can’t do my job?” Y/N asked as they entered Walter’s house.

“Where did that come from? I think you’re a wonderful detective.” Walter said.

“It doesn’t seem that way because tonight you were being all overprotective like ‘are you sure you want to split up?’ And what was that about you leaving the victims downstairs because you heard a gunshot? We’re cops, Walter. It’s not like I’m new to the job, I know what I’m doing.” Y/N

“So what if I’m overprotective? I just want to make sure you’re safe.” Walter asked.

“I AM safe. But this isn’t the first time you’ve done this. It’s like because we are dating, you can’t focus. I thought you said that you can’t let things get personal.” Y/N said.

“I know what I said, Y/N.” Walter said exasperated.

“Then why are you letting things get personal?” Y/N asked.

“Because you are the first woman I’ve dated since my divorce. You are a great detective, I love you so much, but I am overprotective by nature.” Walter said.

“I know you are, bear. But if you could stop, that’d be great.” Y/N said.

“I’ll try. I know you can take care of yourself.” Walter said kissing Y/N’s forehead.

“That means a lot to me, thank you.” Y/N said.

“Now let’s get out of here, we have reports to fill out.” Walter said as he helped her off the examination bed.

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #henry cavill #night hunter #walter marshall #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #walter marshall fic

[kybercrystals94]

Haunting Failures

By KyberCrystals

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 23|Alternative Prompt: Aftermath of Failure

Rating: T

Words: 745

Summary: Hunter has a nightmare.

CW: Some disturbing images…nothing too graphic, but I just thought I’d mention it.

Hunter is running, boots pounding into packed, dry earth. Ashes drift like snowflakes against a blood red sky, the sun blotted by dense smoke. Hunter is alone, weaving through a battlefield devoid of life, but reeking of death. Bodies, machine and flesh, litter the expanse of land. Hunter tries to ignore them, tries to focus on the one sound that matters, the one thing that matters.

The one person that matters.

“Hunter! Help me!” Crosshair’s voice. Frantic, desperate. “Please!”

Hunter runs harder. He scales another obstacle, nearly loses his footing.

“I’m falling! Hunter!”

“I’m coming!” Hunter calls out, “Hold on, Cross. Just hold on!”

He sees his brother, panicked movements, hands clawing at the ground, searching for a hold on the barren terrain. The sniper is being dragged over the edge of a ravine; his body tangled in the wires of something pulling him over.

“Crosshair!” Hunter dives for him, catching his wrist just as his brother falls. “I’ve got you.”

“You’re going to let me go,” Crosshair gasps.

Hunter shakes his head. “No, I won’t, vod. Just hold on, I’m going to cut the wires away and pull you up.” Hunter reaches for his blade.

Crosshair stares up at him, eyes wide. “You gave up on me. You didn’t even try.���

“I’m trying right now, Cross, just hold on.”

“It’s too late, Hunter. You let me go.”

“That’s not true,” Hunter grits out, the blade of his knife finding the thin edges of the wires wrapped around Crosshair’s armored body. “Just hold on.”

“I thought we don’t leave our own behind,” Crosshair says, but his voice has changed. His expression has changed. He looks enraged, a fiery glint to his eyes. “I trusted you!”

And suddenly, Crosshair falls.

Hunter blinks, horror clouding his mind. “Crosshair!” he screams into the abyss.

“You let him go.”

Hunter turns and Tech is standing there, holding Crosshair’s helmet. The helmet has a crack near the right temple. Hunter scrambles shakily to his feet. “No. No, I didn’t. I tried…”

“Not hard enough, obviously,” Tech tells him. “Because now he’s gone.”

Tech drops the helmet, and it rolls toward Hunter, stopping at his feet. He stares at it, at the crack, at the familiar visor. He looks back up at Tech. Tech’s goggles are shattered on his face, his armor broken. He is barely standing, swaying.

“I couldn’t save him, Hunter,” Tech says. A thin trickle of blood escapes the corner of Tech’s mouth, and his eyes roll back. He starts to fall backwards.

“No!” Hunter lunges forward, catching Tech’s forearm.

But Tech is gone, and Omega is struggling in his grip, trying to pull away from him. “Let me go! We have to save them!” she shrieks.

“Omega!” Hunter cries, “Listen to me, it’s too late. They’re gone.”

“They’re not gone! You are giving up on them! You’re going to leave them behind!”

Hunter pulls her close to him, kneeling to look her in the eye. “Omega, please…”

“You failed them! You failed all of us!”

“Omega…”

“No! Let me go!” Omega thrashes against him, fists pounding against his chest. “You failed us! You failed us!”

“No, please,” Hunter begs.

Omega snarls. “You never cared about Crosshair. That’s why you left him, isn’t it? You let Tech fall. You let Hemlock take me.”

“No, no, no…” Hunter shakes his head, closing his eyes so he doesn’t see the fury in his sister’s face.

“Hunter!”

Hunter wakes with a panicked sob, sitting upright so fast his head collides with the bunk above him; however, the pain of the impact feels like nothing compared to the turmoil of emotions making his heart pound and eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Easy, easy,” Echo’s voice soothes. “You were having a nightmare.”

Hunter turns to look at the clone sitting beside him. “It felt real…” he pants out, his breaths shuddering in his lungs. “I lost them all, Echo…it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let Crosshair go…”

“No, you can’t think like that,” Echo says firmly. He takes Hunter’s hand, squeezing it so tight it hurts.

“And Tech,” Hunter continues, “he wouldn’t have died if we had gotten to Crosshair sooner…we should have made him come with us at Kamino. We should never have left him behind.”

Echo shakes his head. “Hunter…”

“And Omega…I promised to protect her.” Hunter begins to cry, the voices of his nightmare whispering in his memories. He failed them. He failed all of them.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to my Tag List!✨

#Whumptober 2023 #Day 23 #Alternative Prompt #Aftermath of Failure #Star Wars #Star Wars the Bad Batch #The Bad Batch #Nightmares #Night Terrors #Character Death Mentioned #Hunter Whump #TBB Hunter #TBB Crosshair #TBB Tech #TBB Omega #TBB Echo #arc trooper echo #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #Hurt No Comfort #fics by kyber