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princessaxoxo · 6 months

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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.

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ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist · 7 months

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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

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ellethespaceunicorn · 4 months

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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.

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

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In all fairness...

A/N: Yeah, this isn't beta'd. Or even glanced over a second time. English isn't my native language so don't draw and quarter me over a couple of mistakes, I beg thee, oh Lordship.

Someone had the audacity to put this completely relatable little sentence on this hellsite. And then I wrote this. I couldn't help myself and I'm not apologizing. xoxo ❤️

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader (you)

Summary: It's date night, and you found the perfect outfit... In hindsight it may have been a little too perfect.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, very impatient Marshall who has a thing for fishnets, light bondage, light daddy kink, unsafe sex (be smarter, folks!), use of pet names, creampie, manhandling, oral (m receiving), facial, ehh... hmu when I missed something.

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You look at yourself in the mirror one more time, a little unsure of your outfit. The skirt is going to be a hit – you’ve worn it before, he loved it. The same goes for the blouse and the underwear you have on. But the tights… Somehow, every last pair you own is either in the laundry or has sustained serious damage in obvious places. This’ll have to do. One last touch-up on your red lipstick and you’re good to go.

“Hey, ready for din…” Your unsmiling, 6 feet tall, 200 something pounds of muscle boyfriend sure looks cute when his mouth falls open like that.

“More than ready,” you reply coyly – as if you care about dinner. Then again, it has been a while since you’ve been out on an actual date, because his work interfered with that the past three or so times. You know he feels guilty; he always does. Sometimes he wonders if he should let work slide more often, so he could stay with you, but you always assure him it’s okay, and you always mean it. His job is important. This time, to apologise to you, he’s made reservations at your favourite restaurant. There is one problem, and that is that your man seems in no way inclined to walk you to the car.

“Babe, we’ll be late.” You try to push him away from the door but – of course – he won’t budge. He’s twice your size, what the hell did you expect?

“We’ll order something.” And with those words, he steps into your apartment and slams the door shut behind him. His hands are heavy on your hips, pushing you back into the wall opposite your front door, face inching closer to yours with every passing second. At the last moment, you turn your face away from his, earning you a low growl that seems to vibrate through your entire body. Within a split second your world is turned upside down – quite literally, because he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom as if you weigh nothing, landing his hands firmly on your arse a few times. You shriek at the impact.

“Are you going to behave tonight?” He asks as he throws you onto the bed. You love seeing him like this, arms crossed, standing over you all tall and broad and threatening. Without thinking, you let your legs fall open until a large hand appears on each knee to push them back together. “I guess not, then.”

You lick your lips as he fumbles with the buckle of his belt before he pulls it from the loops and – to your surprise – uses it to strap your thighs together.

“Knees.” It very much isn’t a question. You would have been more than happy to oblige, but his hand was already wrapped around your upper arm, hauling you off the bed and dragging you onto your knees on the floor. It’s almost reflexive, the way you reach your hands up to unbutton his jeans. Even the thick fabric can’t hide the size of the equipment beneath it. He’s so big you can’t wrap your fingers around him, and two hands aren’t enough to cover his full length. Apparently, you’re not fast enough for Marshall’s liking tonight because before you free his cock from his pants, he’s already impatiently tapping the tip against your lips. Your tongue darts out to taste the precum he’s spreading on your lips, teasing the head of his cock in the process. When your look up at him, he’s looking back at you, with one eyebrow raised, telling you very clearly that he won’t appreciate an attitude tonight. As much as you’d love to see him make good on all those non-verbal threats in his eyes, your lips part and you take head into your mouth. Somehow, every remnant of your signature bratty attitude disappears when you’re sucking dick, and from the way Marshall looks at you, you can tell that he knows.

“Good girl,” he growls when you take him deeper and deeper. Your fingers desperately try to wriggle their way between your thighs to relieve some of the growing ache there, but because your legs are strapped together, you can’t reach. A pitiful whine escapes your throat and Marshall chuckles at the sound.

“Serves you right,” he says with a devious laugh, “fucking cock tease.” You’re barely an inch away from having all of him stuffed down your throat. It takes a few more slow, steady strokes until your nose is pressed against him. It always feels like a victory, especially when he’s standing over you, moaning like he’s losing his mind and visibly trying everything within his power to stand still. This time, it’s him who pulls away to return to more shallow strokes to pull him over the finish line.

“Open.” Again, not a request. You can tell he relishes the sight of you on your knees in front of him, mouth open and tongue out, waiting… Most of his cum ends up on your tongue, and you swallow all of it while keeping your eyes locked on his. He’s biting his lip, letting you know just how much he’s loving this. When he pulls you off the ground again – only far enough to turn you around and bend you over the edge of the bed – you can no longer ignore the mess between your legs. Since you found out that you couldn’t reach down to help yourself, you’ve been doing everything you can to tune out that aching feeling, but the accidental friction from Marshall’s manhandling allows the sensation to wriggle its way back to the front of your mind. A few quick slaps against your arse surely don’t make things better. For a moment, you’re hopeful that he’ll be kind to you, that giving him his means he’ll give you yours, but you know him better than that. Something you did tonight annoyed him – or rather; turned him on so much that he decided he couldn’t wait to have you until after dinner – and he’s going to use you until he feels you’ve made up for that mistake. You wouldn’t be with him if you liked it any other way. The sudden feeling of the chilly air in the room on your behind drag you back to reality. Marshall has shoved your skirt out of the way and his hands are kneading the flesh of your ass. Tenaciously, you might add. You could easily get lost in the feeling – which is a good thing, because to say Walter Marshall loves your ass would be the understatement of the century, which means he spends a disproportionate amount of the time you spend together touching it in some way or another. Today, however, his quality time with your butt doesn’t last long. First, the snapping of thread as strong hands turn the many tiny holes in your fishnets into a single, much larger hole. Then the rough tips of his fingers between your legs, pulling your panties to the side. And lastly a whistle, followed by a chuckle when one of those fingers slips between your folds and almost immediately deep into your dripping core. A second finger slips in just as easily and for a delicious minute they work that heavenly spot inside of you, naturally retreating far too soon, just as you’re squirming with pleasure and begging him to go on.

“Not yet, love.” His words are kind now, knowing you’ll beg for his cock the same way you just begged for his fingers. He teases you with the tip of his cock, laughing when you try to back into him. A few fierce smacks on your ass make short work of that behaviour. Without a fuss or seemingly any real effort at all, he gathers your hands behind your back and keeps them there. He only needs one hand to firmly secure both of your wrists. It’s a bit of an adjustment; normally he’d use his belt, but that’s otherwise occupied at the moment. It takes him a single thrust to drive his entire cock into you and you gasp at the sudden intrusion. At the same time, he groans loudly; because your legs are fixed together, you feel much tighter around him than you normally do, and the feeling is driving him wild. You squirm, whine, and clench your walls around him in an attempt to get him to move.

“Use your words, darling,” he chuckles almost sadistically as he stays still inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you mewl, your voice trembling almost as much as your legs.

“Beg.”

“Please, daddy, fuck me.” The words are out before you realize, and there’s no way of taking them back. Luckily, Marshall doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Shit, baby, I had no idea you were going to ask that nicely.” The pace he sets is brutal; the kind of rhythm you’ve never been able to take on your best days, but the position you’re in prevents him from hitting you as deep as he normally does. For the first time, you realise how much this man always holds back so he won’t hurt you – and you suspect he probably still isn’t fucking into you at full speed or strength. The thought that Walter could literally rip you apart with his dick makes you go absolutely feral, and you beg him to fuck you harder. You have nowhere to go tomorrow, and walking is overrated, anyway. He seems more than happy to oblige; his thrusts go from ‘hard’ to tiptoeing the line between where ‘rough’ ends and ‘cruel’ begins. Just as you’re beginning to regret your request, he can’t take it anymore. With a feral grunt and vicious final thrust, he spills his seed deep inside of you before pulling out.

He takes a moment to watch his cum drip from your battered cunt before he loosens the belt a little, giving you just enough space to spread your knees as far as necessary for you to reach between them and touch the swollen little pearl between your legs. All he does is slip two fingers into your gaping pussy, curl them so they brush past your g-spot and watch as you fuck yourself stupid on his fingers.

“You made a mess, baby,” he whispers in your ear when he pulls you into his chest after you’re done riding out your high. He can’t help but laugh. Walter loves seeing you like this; all fucked out and messy, mascara running, lipstick smudged – there’s probably more of the stuff on his cock right now than on your face…

“That’s your fault,” you sigh.

“In all fairness,” he chuckles as he kisses your neck, “you’re the one who showed up wearing these.” He playfully plucks at the threads of your fishnets. Oh…

#walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill characters

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lainiespicewrites · 5 months

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Hi friends!

So I’m tagging everyone that’s on the tag list for Coach Sy in this! Just because I’m not sure who all my mutuals are yet. Or how else to get this out there to the people I think are actually wanting to read my Walter story 😂🥲 Anyway! I just wanted to get some feedback! You totally don’t have to answer or say anything or interact at all obviously. Because you’re human and you all have free will! But …I’m rambling because I’m nervous …wow I really am turning into my self insert characters …or I write myself well…and I’m deflecting

Okay getting to my point! I’ve started my Walter story (literally have not even introduced him yet and I’m already panicking and doubting myself) but what I’ve realized is that because Walter is a comfort character to me. Because he is a police officer. And how his whole job is safety, I’ve been using this story as like a form of therapy? And started to recount my own Sexual assault and have been sort of trauma dumping into this story. Which has been a great release.

Night hunter the movie is super heavy. We all made a conscious choice to watch it. Some of us just because Henry is in it though. And might not like heavy triggering content like that. Others like myself. Might oddly find comfort in intense films like that. What I’m trying to say or ask is. Is this a theme you guys are okay with reading? It’s a lot different from coach Sy obviously which is healing in a different way because it’s so soft and sweet and comforting. And Walt will be too but. I just have to get the trauma out. Either way I think I’m gonna finish the story. But what I’m asking is do you guys want me to post it …or rework something else for Walter?

I’m not gonna be offended! I understand it! I’m totally okay with putting that out there because it helps me. And I know that if it helps me it’s very likely someone could connect with it and help others. I just didn’t realize that I was ready to pretty much tell the exact situation in a story. Sorry this is such a heavy subject guys. I love writing and I love that it brings us together and that we all can connect over someone that we love and brings us joy and comfort!

That’s kinda how I stumbled so hard into Henry! I knew of him but I hadn’t seen much of his stuff. But I saw him in Enola Holmes and (well first of all he looked damn good) but he was so big and something about him felt safe and protective. I’ve kind of hidden in that for a while.

Wow didn’t mean to get all emotional! But that’s tumblr! Thank you guys for all the love! Again you don’t have to say anything! If I don’t get too many responses I’ll probably just post it and see what the response is! I honestly love the little fan club i feel like I’ve gained here! You guys are awesome!!! ❤️🥰

Leave a comment, or reblog that’s totally fine, or if you’re more comfortable messaging me my dms always open! I just wanna make sure we’re all comfortable and safe here obviously I’d use tigger warnings and stuff but I also don’t want to post it if the majority of people won’t be comfortable. 💕

Tumblr tag list

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

#captain syverson #henry cavill #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson smut #fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #walter marshall fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #walter marshall fluff #august walker fanfiction #august walker #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall #night hunter

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viking-raider · 1 year

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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

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ashzenxx · 10 months

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The fourth chapter is up. Here's the small art of eclipse's right hand, showing off his pretty lil tattoo of a death scythe. Symbolic.

Stay tuned on Ao3 to read more of TELL ME YOU WANT ME.

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witchersmistress · 9 months

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Walter Marshall MasterList

Total works: 7

On going series, possibly,:

The road to Hell: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/724560682895425536/the-road-to-hell?source=share

Is paved with the bones of priests: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/724742102266871808/is-paved-with-good-intentions?source=share

and the skulls of the bishops : https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/724914433341652992/and-the-skulls-of-the-bishops?source=share

are the lamppost that light their way: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/724920107340578816/are-the-lamp-post-that-light-the-path?source=share

Wedding Night Woes pt 1: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/726001227506319361/wedding-night-woes?source=share

One Shots:

Punishment time Walter: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/723505007362752512/punishment-time-walter?source=share

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill characters #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #night hunter #henrycavill smut

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peyton-warren · 2 years

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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

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ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist · 7 months

Text

Touch and Go Masterlist

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Detective!Female!Reader

Series Summary: What happens when a touch-starved detective who isn’t well-versed in human interaction meets their match?

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Parts: (possibly ongoing)

A Detective's Romance

The Morning After

My Masterlist

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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

Text

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)

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!

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 7 months

Text

Pumpkin spice

Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Walter Marshall x librarian!reader

Summary: You finally manage to get a date with the handsome barista from your favorite coffeeshop.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), p-in-v sex, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), a cheesy (romantic) date, a short appearance of Mike The Idiot TM, awkwardness, a lot of coffee and abuse of a cable knit... I think that's it?

A/N: Another promise made to @deandoesthingstome. I swear this woman is responsible for half the stuff on my masterlist at this point. Credit for the other half goes to @geralts-yenn of course. This time, it was - of course - because I made the mistake of adding one of the - according to her - more attractive Henry-shaped men to the Coffee+Cats universe. Naturally, grumpy coffeeshop manager Walter needed a hug and some good head, and Charlie volunteered, so here we are.

What we're left with is a crazy crossover between the Coffee+Cats AU and the 179th Crescent Street AU, because this is - indeed, for the people who are familiar with Crescent Street - the librarian!reader from After Hours.

@ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

The brooding man behind the counter has been getting on your nerves for weeks. His only crime is ‘getting your order right’, which shouldn’t even be all that surprising, because that’s his job – if it weren’t for the fact that he seems to know exactly what it’s going to be before you’ve even opened your mouth to speak.

“What can I do for you today?” He could look less godlike, maybe? Don’t say that. Or he could smell worse? Or that. Or he could not smile in a way that seemed to make the earth stop spinning. Very dramatic, also don’t say that.

“Ehh…” Brilliant. Someone should give you an award for that monologue. Shake it off. “Since when do I have to order for myself?”

Alright, you’ve made him chuckle – God, that’s a delicious sound – and look away. Now what? “I’m sorry,” he says, still avoiding your eyes, “I can’t read you today. But you seem annoyed enough with me to make me want to make whatever you’re going to order lukewarm in case I get it thrown in my face later.”

“That’s too bad,” you say, “I was really hoping to get a recommendation.” Because you only know what you want to order when you’re here for coffee. And you’re not here for coffee. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, why are you getting coffee today?” Son of a bitch! It’s a good thing the shop is slow right now, so you’re not holding anyone up with your… is it flirting? God, let it be flirting! No, definitely not flirting. Or maybe…?

“Maybe it’s not the coffee so much as the company,” you say shyly. Yeah, flirting. Qualitatively very poor flirting, but still. It stays quiet on the other side of the counter for a beat too long, which sends your anxiety through the roof.

“So, how about she has whatever you’re having when you go on your break in about... A minute and a half?” The voice belongs to Mike, the almost annoyingly upbeat barista you’ve seen around countless times. He’s responsible for at least half the college crowd that flocks to this place, because he’s a cutie. A little young, maybe, but he has a nice ass.

“I was going to go with a regular old espresso.” He smiles apologetically.

“You look like you could do with a double.” God, that’s a horrible line.

It’s Mike who ends up laughing. “He could do with way more than a double,” he snickers, shooing Walter away from the cash register. “Get out of here, or I’m getting you both pumpkin spice lattes.”

Walter shudders at the thought. He never struck you as the kind of guy who likes his coffee sweet, and you’re happy you’re right. At least… You think you’re right until you see the little twinkle in Mike’s eyes. Granted, that happens a lot, but never for nothing, and the little wink he throws your way suggests he knows his boss has a secret pumpkin spiced sweet tooth he doesn’t want the world to know about. So you pretend not to notice.

When you’re finally settled at a table, you talk for what feels like forever, your knees touching under the table. You’d expected him to move his leg out of the way when you first bumped into it accidentally, but he didn’t. Then, as your conversation went on, more and more of your legs got mixed up together.

“Walter?” For the love of God, why? “I hate to break up your date, but a whole sorority just walked in and I can’t do this by myself.”

“I’m on my break, Mike,” Walter grumbles in return, clearly not happy about the interruption. That’s a good sign, right?

“Your break, Mr. Manager, sir, ended forty-five minutes ago.” Mike would make a great wingman, if it weren’t for the fact that he seems a little keen to pat himself on the back for his efforts. “Give her your number and come do your job.” With a dramatic sigh, he walks back to where he’s supposed to be.

“I’m really sorry,” Walter says with an apologetic smile on his face. You shrug it off – it really doesn’t matter, he wasn’t even supposed to have spent the better part of the past hour with you – and slide your phone towards him.

A poetry reading in a – different – coffeeshop in town. That’s where he suggests you go. First, any man who is creative enough to come up with something other than ‘a drink’ or ‘dinner’ is worth a shot in your book, but when they’re of the dark, gloomy, burly variety; all the better. And no three-day-wait nonsense, either. He calls you right after his shift ends, and asks you to meet him in two hours.

It's barely a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment, which leaves you with plenty of time to complain quietly to yourself that an hour and forty-five minutes is not enough time to get dressed for a date, while getting dressed for your date. You manage with time to spare – five whole minutes – which you spend pensively checking out your outfit in every imaginable angle in the mirror on your bedroom door. You toy with the hem of the skirt you’re wearing, fondly remembering another time you put it on. You’re not one to kiss and tell, so only a few of your closest friends know the crudest of outlines to the story of your scandalous liaison in the university library – and the long night that followed. Not that you’re particularly happy that those same friends, to this day, still tease you about how you – a grown woman – let yourself get talked into a night in student housing with a guy just about so much younger than you that you really didn’t want to even begin doing the math, but you wouldn’t trade the memories for anything in the whole world.

One look at your watch tells you it was time to go, and with trembling hand you open the door of your apartment. It had been sheer, dumb luck that even got you this place in the first place. It's tiny – just the second floor of a beautiful old townhouse – and narrow, but it has a separate bedroom, which was all you could really wish for with your income, anyway. During this time of year, the street it was on looks like a picture; orange leaves bravely cling to the steadily baring branches of the trees, and litter the ground, making for the perfect autumn scene. The sight also never fails to make you more desperate than usual – even for you – for coffee.

You’ve always enjoyed the fall, including all its necessary trials and tribulations – slippery sidewalks that weren’t quite suited for folks with your level of coordination, the unannounced rain that mercilessly drenched you and your absolutely everything in the early morning so that the sleeves of your coat would be unbearably wet when you put it on later in the afternoon, the cold that had you shivering and covered in goosebumps more often than not, and your toes. Freezing. Always. On that front, living in an old, drafty apartment with less-than-efficient heating isn’t exactly your top choice. Oh well.

The coffeeshop is – as per your calculations – a little less than a fifteen-minute walk away from your place, and you dread being early. Getting there first. Waiting for him. Fortunately, when you round the corner, you see him standing outside. You happily note that he is standing there – again, outside – in nothing but a dark cable-knit sweater, jeans and sturdy shoes that are the most weather-appropriate part of his outfit as far as you’re concerned.

“Hello.” His blue eyes smile down on you, and you barely remember your own damn name. Was he always this tall? This big? This handsome? A nervous smile will have to serve as your answer, because you’re at a complete loss for words. He doesn’t seem to mind.

For a moment, you stand there, simply staring sheepishly into his eyes, until finally a drop of rain falls right on the tip of your nose, pulling you from your trance at once. “We should get inside,” you say softly.

Walter reaches an arm out. “After you,” he says with the same kind smile in his eyes. You pick a table in the corner, settling nicely on the comfortable couch, while Walter grabbed the two of you coffee.

“Pumpkin spice,” you chuckle when he returns with two identical steaming cups. He nods, a playful smile in his eyes, only. “Is Mike the only one who knows your secret?” Your nerves convince you that your shot at playful banter goes wide, until Walter sits down and chuckled.

“There’s, eh… There’s this woman,” he says softly. To your surprise, he doesn’t sit in the chair opposite you, but he joins you on the couch. As the café is filling up, another customer quickly confiscates the chair Walter isn’t using.

“Don’t worry, she won’t tell,” you say, your voice trembling as you briefly consider the possibility that he wasn’t referring to you.

When the reading ends, you linger until the shop closes – which isn’t too long after, but still, you find it comforting in the sense that you’re simply glad Walter doesn’t try to run as soon as he can. Outside, the rain has picked up, and if the autumn air was chilly before, now, it’s downright icy. Despite his lacking a jacket or coat, the cold doesn’t seem to bother Walter, and though the rain clearly does, he offers to walk you home – an offer, mind you, he’s not intent on allowing you to decline.

It would have been obvious to anyone just under half as nervous as you are, but neither of you seem to be in a hurry to get you home, despite the rain, both clearly dragging out the little time you both think is still left to this date. Until you reach your front door, that is, and you both look at each other.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?” Is that your voice? Your invitation? And is that him? Accepting your offer? Apparently it is, because he follows you in when you open the door. The stairs to your floor are almost too narrow for him, and he has to watch his head for that one ridge in the ceiling of the stairwell that you never look out for because you’re small enough to never have it bother you. “This is me,” you say nervously as you open the door and invite him into your place. He seems comically large in your tiny living room, and you barely manage to suppress a chuckle. “Coffee?”

“Please!” he says before he shivers visibly.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry,” you say as you realize – what you consider – your error. “I shouldn’t have… You must be wanting to get home and get out of your wet clothes, I…” A hand on your cheek and the heat that, despite being soaked through and through, radiates off his body cuts you off mid-apology.

“I wouldn’t mind getting out of these clothes,” he says slowly, his voice dark and husky in a way that makes your breath stick in the back of your throat for a moment, “but I don’t see a reason to wait until I get home to do that.” Without waiting for a response, he captures your lips in a scorching hot kiss that almost make you forget that both of you have wandered – slowly – through the pouring rain for nearly fifteen minutes.

Large hands gently tug your coat off your shoulders until a single move of your arms makes it drop to the floor, then they’re at your waist, pulling you closer. His lips are gentle, surprisingly soft, and his beard scratches against your cold skin. When you reach for his face, and your fingers connect with his skin, he inhales sharply.

“Are your hands made of ice?” he mumbles against your lips, his lips pulling away in a grin. He takes your hands away from his face, draping your arms around his neck instead, where you weave your fingers into his messy curls. They’re all but soaked from the rain, and part of you wants to offer him a towel, but another – much bigger – part of you swears it will die if not attached firmly to big, big man. Walter pulls you close, not expecting an answer to his question, and carefully slides his tongue along your bottom lip, begging you to let him in. You do, and you allow yourself to be swept away by the gentle yet thorough way in which his tongue explores your mouth, dances with yours.

With near-greedy impatience, you push him back, towards the door of your bedroom, longing so desperately to feel more of this man than you currently are. ‘Stumble’ is an apt descriptor for the way you cross the threshold into your room. Here, too, he seems almost too large for the space – which is so small that from where he’s standing, he couldn’t fall in any direction without hitting a wall. Your bed covers the whole wall beneath the window, easily taking up half the space, with your wardrobe taking up most of what’s left. You might have fit another bookcase in there, if it weren’t for the fact that you prefer your bathroom door actually closes.

Without thinking, you reach for the hem of his sweater, your fingers purposely lingering on the skin beneath, which – despite being damp from the rain – still radiates heat. Under your touch, his grip on your waist tightens, and his abs twitch. There’s more muscle to him than you’d thought, and you find another pleasant surprise when you rake your fingers over his stomach. So pleasant, in fact, that you can’t suppress a soft chuckle. Nothing says ‘perfect fall hookup’ like a deliciously hairy man. Now, if only that damned – and dampened – sweater would come off, that would be so amazing…

Frustrated groans escape the both of you when the garment puts on more of a fight than any sweater has the right to, and as soon as it’s on the floor, Walter kicks it out of the room for good measure. Your hands eagerly travel the now-exposed skin of his chest and back, making him shiver and moan loudly as you drag a single fingernail softly down his spine. He captures your lips again, stringing you along into the depths of another scorching kiss, fingers working diligently to untuck your sweater from your skirt. A soft growl slips from his throat as he finishes his mission, only to encounter the fabric of the blouse you’re wearing underneath the sweater – you really do get cold easily. This time, he is far less friendly in his approach, pulling almost recklessly at the fabric that finds itself so rudely between your body and his greedy touch.

Your sweater meets a fate similar to his, and your hands make quick work of just enough buttons of your blouse that you can pull the thing over your head while his hands continue their exploration slightly further down, following the soft curve of your ass and pulling you closer to him as he goes. His mouth barely leaves yours – he alternates between using just the right amount of tongue, and nipping at or sucking on your bottom lip. Paired with his obviously horny impatience, it’s nothing short of divine.

You can’t wrap your head around how warm his hands feel on your skin, but the contrast with the chilly air of the room is both staggering and arousing. Not that Walter had thus far been unsuccessful in arousing you – quite the opposite, in fact. His lips move to your neck while his hands roam your back and sides, hesitant to grab more of you. What does he think you’re going to do? Object?

Your hands are already undoing his belt, eager to take the final pieces of wet fabric off him so you can finally seek the solace of your warm bed, and he lets you, kicking off his shoes while you struggle with the buckle. Finally, he takes over, taking care of the tricky metal contraption with one hand while staring directly into your eyes. It’s at that moment that you finally realize what all of this is doing to you…

The arrogant little smirk on his face while he licks his lips doesn’t help – the whole thing sends shivers down your spine and your body answers with a greedy throb between your thighs. You manage to kick your own boots off before Walter mercilessly tackles you to the bed. With a single, swift move, he rolls you both over, pulling you on top of him so you’re straddling his thighs, his hands firmly on your ass, kneading the soft flesh with admirable determination. His face does a poor job of hiding the fact that he likes what he’s feeling.

When you bend over to press your lips to his again, you shriek in surprise as his hand disappears from its newfound playground and lands there again, only a moment later, with a firm smack. He shoots an apologetic look at you as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his by means of a faux-admonishment you’re nowhere near serious about. A man like that can manhandle the ever-loving fuck out of you every damn day. When he groans, your insides turn to jelly. In the heat of everything that’s been happening, you haven’t exactly been paying attention to what this has been doing to him, but that move of your hips makes you instantly aware of the very impressive erection you’re sitting right on top of. Another moan escapes him when you repeat the motion, his hands grabbing your ass tighter – nudging you, urging you to keep moving.

Suddenly, he sits up on the edge of the bed, keeping you in his lap, his hands finally moving underneath the fabric of your skirt. Walter moans again – appreciatively, this time – when his fingers explore the soft lace of your underwear. Then, he chuckles. “For someone who gets cold a lot…”

“Shut up,” you reprimand him before kissing him hard. The line between fun and functional is thin, and it wasn’t that you were expecting to end up in bed with this guy, but you sure as hell were hoping you would, and peeling off tights in the heat of the moment has proven disastrous on many occasions thus far. You shiver when he runs his hands up and down your thighs, lingering just above your knee, where his fingers toy with the hem of your thigh-high socks – an absolute requirement in your marginally successful attempt to not freeze to death – and you feel his cock twitch as he does. He likes them. Good.

Apparently, your smirk is too much for him, because he grabs the backs of your thighs and lifts you like you weigh nothing. Next thing you know, you’re on your back, and Walter hovers over you, diligently seeking out the most sensitive spots on your neck. He kisses a blazing hot trail down your chest, pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched up around your waist. You can almost feel his gaze between your legs, and the way he licks his lips wrings a whimper from your lips. Seconds pass in which you anxiously wait for his reaction – a mocking grin, a victorious chuckle or a vicious smirk filled with pity – but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel a hand on your thigh, creeping higher until you’re not sure if ‘thigh’ is still an appropriate label. His thumb softly trails the thin fabric between your legs. The smile that appears on his face isn’t mocking, cocky or challenging – it’s peaceful and almost grateful in a way you don’t quite understand.

“My turn to get you out of your soaking wet clothes.” It’s a joke, absolutely, but it’s a gentle one, just like his hands are when he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, and he slowly pulls them down.

You’re holding your breath. At first you don’t notice – it really isn’t until his hands slide up your thighs again and you suck in a desperate breath that you realize just how welcome the air is. He pushes your legs apart, settling comfortably between them before using his thumbs to spread your pussy wide. Insecurities plague your brain. You should feel exposed. Insecure. Uncomfortable.

You don’t.

Walter looks up at you with a question in his eyes, and you mouth a breathless answer to his unspoken query. Please. Carefully, he inches closer, until you feel the tickle of the coarse hair on his jaw against the sensitive skin of your thigh. You can see the shiver travel down his spine as he licks a single stripe through your folds, and you moan in unison. Almost immediately, your hand weaves into his hair, pulling his face closer to your center.

He's thorough, relentlessly lapping at your clit while you squirm in his arms, strong hands firmly pressed to the back of your thighs, keeping your legs open for him while he takes his time exploring you, tasting your arousal and learning what works for you. After some time, you notice he settles into a rhythm that might actually work for you, which – as you’re somewhat reluctant to admit, even to yourself – is a rather rare feat. Encouraged by the movement of your hips and the sounds you make, he continues on his mission, and before long your grip on his hair tightens and your squirming gets worse – so much worse, in fact, that he reaches around your thigh to steady your hips against his mouth.

Outside, the rain threatens to turn into a thunderstorm, and if you’d been in any position to notice the weather, you’d have been happy to be inside. As things are, you’re still quite content with your whereabouts, but luckily for completely different reasons. Your back arches off the bed when you come, crying out Walter’s name as you do. With trembling legs, you lay there, your walls pulsing and clenching around nothing. He lets you catch your breath for a moment, his lips never leaving you as he kisses a path up your body again, effortlessly reaching for the clasp of your bra on your back. He doesn’t find it – your favorite just happens to close in the front. Once found, however, that pesky clasp is no match for his capable fingers, and only a moment later you’re shivering as the cold air of your bedroom brushes past your exposed nipples.

He looks at you briefly before latching onto your neck again, gently sucking and biting your skin, making you shiver. One hand finds its way to your chest, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh, fingers brushing tentatively past your hardening nipple, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers. You whine, writhing against the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your skin – the result of the electrifying combination of the slightest sheen of sweat meeting cool air. He grins. Chuckles. Then, he bends his head to suck one nipple into his mouth, that capable tongue passing over it, toying with it, sharp teeth grazing sensitive skin, luring cries of pleasure from you in abundance.

Your hands all but scramble for the waistband of his underwear, slipping into the dark boxer briefs without a trace of patience. Fuck. Fingers wrap around – try to, at least – his unapologetically massive cock, images of that one night flashing before your eyes as you give him a few gentle strokes. A trembling exhale tells you your ministrations are appreciated, and you smile, hoping this is only the tip of the iceberg – a hope that is soon confirmed truth when he lets out a loud moan as you run your thumb gingerly over the underside of his cock.

A hand on the back of his neck, pulling softly, is enough to guide him to lie down next to you, and he smiles up at you when you sit on your knees. He’s all too eager to help you get rid of his underwear, and when you take your sweet time taking him in, in all his glory, he almost looks shy.

You start with a light kiss on his lips, then work your way down, fingers trailing the expanse of his chest, dragging slowly through the coarse hair on it, further and further down over his abs until they meet his hips, where they linger to draw teasingly light patterns on his skin. A featherlight touch of your lips to the tip of his cock makes him twitch and groan, and a soft tap on your ass urges you to keep going. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and with the tip of your tongue, you circle the head, teasing him until he’s impatiently moaning. His hand hooks around your thigh and pulls you closer – at first you wonder why, but soon after, his fingers run along your slit, searching for your entrance.

He pushes two fingers into your wet core exactly when you swallow as much of his cock as you possibly can, and both of you let out a long moan at the same time. You bob your head up and down his shaft in the same rhythm his fingers pump into you. It’s easy to figure out he likes it sloppy, and you’re happy to oblige. With the delicious symphony of moans and grunts that spill from his lips as an inspiration, you’re enjoying yourself greatly – which makes it all the more disappointing when he pulls his fingers back, a sharp smack on your ass breaking your concentration.

“Come here,” he says huskily, impatiently tugging at your arm.

You straddle his thighs again, reaching for the drawer in your nightstand to grab a condom, and waiting entirely impatiently for him to put it on. Normally, you’re somewhat nervous about being on top, but tonight, you couldn’t care less. You need this man inside of you.

Now.

Walter helps guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, and you slowly lower yourself, screwing your eyes shut at the stretch his incredible girth provides. Nails dig into his shoulder so hard he hisses, and you rest your head on his shoulder, whining pitifully against his skin.

“Easy,” he shushes you, sensing whatever distress you’re feeling, “take your time.” His permission helps; you slow down, and steadily make it all the way down his length. You take a moment to get used to the stretch, gradually relaxing around him. It feels no less full, but definitely increasingly less uncomfortable. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. It’s impossible to keep quiet – luckily, you’re not the only one who can’t seem to hold their tongue. Soft praise is mixed in with the abundance of expletives that come out of Walters mouth. “That’s it.” A personal favorite of yours, especially when he says it – a gravelly snarl through gritted teeth.

You could ride him forever – sure, your thighs will be sore tomorrow, but it’ll all have been worth it. Right? He clearly has other plans, pushing you off him unceremoniously. You’re on your stomach, and you half expect him to turn you around – but he doesn’t. Rough hands drag you to your knees, and – knowing what’s about to happen – you don’t bother raising yourself up on your elbows. They’ll give out in no time, anyway. Walter lines up behind you and sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust that has you gasping for air. He’s rough and demanding, yet kind and careful, clearly trying not to hurt you. Every thrust wrenches a moan from your lips, and your hand snakes between your legs, fingers drawing tight circles around your clit until you’re teetering right on the edge of bliss. His laughter when you beg him for more, harder, faster is largely obscured by the sound of rolling thunder outside the window. Your orgasm, when it finally does rip through you like an explosion, is theatrically accompanied by an almost unnaturally well-timed lightning strike.

“Dramatic,” Walter notes dryly behind you, his strained voice signaling his stamina knows a limit after all. In a moment of poetic justice, the storm lulls for a moment when Walter’s orgasm forces a sound from him that could be described as many things, but not ‘charming’. When he pulls out, your walls clench against nothing, and you whine softly at the somehow overwhelming emptiness. “Bathroom?” Walter asks, pointing at the other door in your bedroom. You nod, speechless, before collapsing on your bed.

His return marks the start of that awkward hooked-up-on-the-first-date-dance. Stay? Go? Hookup? Date? Yes? No? You sigh your relief when Walter hesitates for the shortest possible moment before crawling under the covers with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and allowing you to snuggle into his chest.

“Do you mind if I stay?” he asks, a playful edge to his voice. “It’s raining.”

“Is that the only reason you want to stay?” you chuckle. It’s strange. Normally you wouldn’t be so confident he hadn’t been genuine in his remark.

“Well, eh…” he mutters as he nuzzles your hair, “there’s this woman…”

The sun is an unwelcome intruder in your house the next morning, and you do your very best to hide from the rays as long as possible. A new preferred method: burying your face in Walter’s chest. A very nice added bonus to the approach is that it comes with strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you tight. As far as you’re concerned – and you’re well aware that it’s a little soon to say this after one date, but it’s not like you’re planning on proposing today – you’re not letting this man walk, ever again. He didn’t complain when you warmed your icy feet against his legs yesterday, and the only reaction you get out of him when you put your cold hands on his body is a low grumble and an involuntary shiver.

“Morning,” he groans after a while. By now, you’re awake enough to at least make an attempt at playing host.

“Coffee?” you ask – a suggestion that’s met with an approving grunt.

On your way to the kitchen, you come across his discarded and banned-from-the-bedroom sweater – and you make the mistake of stepping on it, shrieking in surprise when the damp fabric touches your already cold foot. Coffee first, you decide.

“I have some bad news,” you say as you enter your bedroom with two cups of coffee in your hands, his sweater dangling from your pinky. “This is still wet.”

“Oh, god, no,” Walter says with a smile, “whatever will we do to pass the time until it dries?”

#walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #night hunter

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lainiespicewrites · 5 months

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I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?

Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3

Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)

Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.

Please don't share without crediting.

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I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse.

“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke.

“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again.

“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand.

“No,” I said again. “I do know.”

“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they can. not after it’s been so long.

“There’s no evidence.” I said.

“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”

“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair.

“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does.

“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually.

“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office. I could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home. Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?

“Okay,” was all I managed to say.

“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder.

“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,” his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded.

“You’re sure?” She asked.

“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded.

“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.” I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again.

“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him.

“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile.

I stood up from my spot next to the desk. Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a

seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me.

“You’re reporting an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded.

“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open.

“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk.

“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching.

“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out.

“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit.

“And what’s his name?” He asked me.

“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening.

“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”

I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes.

“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.

“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”

“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued.

“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,

“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.” Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground.

“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”

“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me.

“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”

“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me.

“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any

reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do.

“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options.

“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked.

“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him.

“I do,” I spoke finally.

“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped.

“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly.

“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”

“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again.

“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.”

“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly.

“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile.

“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again.

“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled.

“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift.

“I’m sorry for keeping you,”

“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded.

He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building.

“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station.

“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”

“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.

“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered.

“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door.

“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me.

“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.” He stated.

“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said.

“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”

“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive.

It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house.

“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.”

“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him.

I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name.

“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.

“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said. Pulling me closer to him.

“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly.

“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said.

“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment.

“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”

“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax.

“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled.

“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly.

“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically.

“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated.

“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow.

“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”

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Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!

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Part 2:

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year

Text

Night Moves

Chapter 5

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 2529

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and F receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, drug use, drug addiction, general violence, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: Rough consensual sex, more misogyny.

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist: Night Moves Songs 17 -19 (heads up: if you have been following along, it’s usually one song per section of the chapter, but 17 and 18 are the same section - I couldn’t make up my mind for Alex and Walter’s first time; sue me)

Masterlist

This kiss is everything. It isn’t soft. It’s just as hungry as it was at the tracks. If Alex thinks Walter’s request for permission is an indication that he’d start slow this time, she is mistaken. And she can’t categorize it as sorely, either.

Alex is coming undone while Walter puts his hands all over her body, grasping, pulling, stroking, squeezing. Every inch he can reach while he stoops to catch her lips and slip his tongue deep down her throat. If the ease with which she lets him manhandle her doesn’t tell him exactly what he needs to know, the moan that breaks from her belly sure does.

She neither needs nor wants him to take his time. She doesn’t require he caress her gently, or ghost his lips over her neck while he pulls her shirt off her shoulders. Well, that he can do. Does. Maybe it isn’t down, though, maybe he grabs the hem and yanks up quick and hard, breaking away from her lips at the exact right moment to pull the top over her head before crashing right back into her as he rips the shirt off her arms. But he definitely takes off her shirt. And her bra.

Walter is hard. Has been pretty much since the train tracks. He’s tried. God knows he’s been praying to make this need go away, but the only answer he’s getting is the half-naked woman in front of him who has been haunting him for just a night and a day. It is positively insane the way Alex is making him feel, but here it is.

She wants him. Wants all of him. He hasn’t said one word to her about what he needs but somehow she knows. Knows he’s not gonna go easy on her. Knows that as soon as he is done kissing her mouth and getting as hard as he’s ever been listening to her moan for him, he is going to put her on her knees on the floor.

So it’s all Alex can do to force herself to break the kiss and ask the question.

“Do you know if you’re clean?”

And it takes Walter a few seconds to get some blood back to his brain and understand she isn’t talking about a shower. And then he has to think of Rachel.

“Yeah. Couple months after I ended my last relationship. Clean. Nothing since.”

Alex nods and licks her lips and says, “Same” and Walter doesn’t ask permission again because he knows he has it, and always will from her. This is what he’s been craving.

He wraps a hand around her neck and pulls her close, kisses her hard once more, then uses that hand to push her down while he tells her he wants her on her knees. And she isn’t resisting, not in the least. She expected this and the fresh bloom of heat just makes her want it more. Walter is unbuckling his belt and popping the button and unzipping his pants now, pushing them down and she is just staring up at him with eyes that beg him to tell her what to do and so he does.

“Take me out.”

She reaches into the band of his underwear and takes hold of the firm, warm, smooth cock and pulls the fabric down with her other hand so he is free, technically, though his underwear is caught on his thighs and Alex isn’t doing anything about that. Instead, she is still watching him, waiting for Walter to tell what he wants her to do next.

“Put me in your mouth,” he commands and she does. Stretches her mouth wide after licking her lips again and she leans in to put that tongue right at the tip of his achingly hard cock and if he hadn’t been thinking about Rachel a few moments ago, her mouth on him might have made him come right then and there. As it is, she is sliding down his length and dragging her tongue down the bottom of his shaft as far she can.

She is giving it a good, solid go but Walter knows she’ll never make it. That’ll take practice which he’s going to be more than glad to give her at some other time. But now, here, right now, all he wants is to feel her sucking on whatever part of him she can get in her mouth.

When the way she moves her head back and forth, twisting her neck as she goes to deposit stripe after stripe of warm, wet saliva along his length, becomes too much for him he growls and pulls her off, sinking to his knees as well so he can put his mouth back on hers. He doesn’t want to come this way. And not quite yet.

Walter can’t stop thinking about last night. Thinking about the way she made him feel before he even knew who she was. He’s torn between dragging her to the bedroom so he can relive that soapy fantasy and taking her on the floor right now. His urgent need wins out.

He pushes her not gently so that her ass hits her heels and then he scoops her ankles to the side so he can straighten her legs out before her. He slides a hand up her thighs to find the hem of her underwear beneath her skirt while his other hand presses her collarbone so she has no choice but to lean back, resting on her forearms. He yanks at her panties and she does her best to lift her hips so he can get them all the way down her legs and off her body. Her skirt is left bunched around her waist.

He works his pants the rest of the way off, too, before shifting his knees between her legs, widening them as he leans down to kiss her hard again.

“Condom?” Alex asks with a huff, breaking free from the kiss in a moment of order before the coming chaos.

Walter reaches down to sift through the puddle of fabric beside them, finding the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out his wallet. He flings it to the side once he’s plucked the foil packet out, then tears it open and rolls it down his length, sitting back on his heels to scan her body laying open before him.

He reaches down between her legs to find her damp heat and pushes a thumb in just barely before stroking and pressing along her clit. Walter wants to be sure Alex is ready for him, wants her to be sure, too. So he takes a few more beats to slide two fingers in deep, twisting and stretching so he can slip a third in. He pumps slowly at first, then deeper, more urgently. It’ll be a tight fit but the way her eyes flutter shut when she releases the clench around his digits tells him she absolutely won’t mind.

He pulls some slick out as he draws his arm back and rubs it around his sheathed cock as he quirks an eyebrow in a silent question to which he already knows the answer, but she practically begs him anyway.

Walter chooses to enter slowly. He wants to savor the way she clings to him all the way down, feel the pressure around each inch of his cock. When he’s fully seated, he holds a beat while he watches the way her eyes adjust to his proximity. Alex shifts a hand to the nape of his neck and pulls him closer, kisses him with an open mouth so she can taste his tongue while she drifts her fingers through his hair.

“Please, fuck, just, please…” Alex is having a little trouble with words, her mind already short-circuited as she watched him prepare for her. He’s big. Bigger than she’s ever had. Everything she imagined in the club and more. She bites her lip to prevent the hiss as he enters her, consumed by the delicious searing stretch with all its glorious promise.

Oh, this he could also do for hours. Just lay inside her and enjoy the way her lips slide over his. So it’s a shock when she ends it abruptly.

“Please.” One more practically silent plea, small, like she isn’t sure all the sudden. Or maybe she thinks he’s changed his mind about the way he wants to take her. It was just a moment, a glimpse of what could also be, but Walter’s back in his head now and he’s ready to fuck her like he means it.

“Yeah,” he growls. “Okay, yeah.” Each word punctuated with a sharp thrust that isn’t near as deep as he’d like to be, but he likes this woman and he doesn’t want to scare her off.

“I’m not…I won’t break, okay?” Alex is still holding his neck close and she gives him a kiss before she lets go and moans with relief when he takes her at her word.

Walter doesn’t hold back anymore. Alex hooks her legs over his thighs spread wide and tosses her arms above her head while he braces himself on his forearms and finally gives her what she asked for. He fucks her with abandon and he’s positive there’ll be rug burns on his knees but it won’t compare to what she’ll deal with on her back.

After several minutes, he lifts himself up and drags his hands down her chest to grip her hips and tug her up closer to him, if it’s even possible. The look on her face. It’s different than he’s seen before when he gets this way. When he’s fucking like there’s no tomorrow, it’s usually too much and he’s asked to slow down, ease up. He’s about to stop because he thinks it’s pain, but there is something else behind it, bubbling to the surface. Wonder? Confusion? Awe?

“Don’t stop,” she begs when she realizes what he’s thinking. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

As if a switch is flipped, he’s no longer in control of himself but he is in control of her. He ignores her plea for the few seconds it takes to slide out, flip her over, and pull her hips back up to meet him before he’s slamming back into her with no restraint.

“This is what you want?” he snarls. “Want me fucking you like this?”

“Mmmhmm,” she whimpers, her face against the ground and he almost stops again but she continues. “Fuck yes, just like that.”

He can feel her open up for him, feel the warm heat exploding inside her and sucking him in, deeper and deeper. He feels the clench and release of each little tremor and when he can’t hold on any longer he lets go. He thinks it was just his imagination that she came once more just before he did so when he pulls out, he leans over and wraps an arm around her waist, snakes his hand down to her mound, searches out her hard little clit and rubs to give her one last orgasm.

Alex is wrecked. She really can’t take anymore but if he wants this for her, she’ll let him. She’s so sensitive it doesn’t take long before she’s crying out in pleasure one last time. He cups her mound to soothe the ache while he stretches her legs long so she can lay completely flat. He pulls off the condom and ties it while searching for a place to put it.

Alex can sense his struggle and reaches for him, strokes his thigh.

“Just drop it and come here,” she says, wriggling the rest of the way out of her skirt.

He does as he’s told, laying himself down beside her as she turns to face him.

“Hi,” she smiles at him, breathless.

“Hey. You okay?”

“More than.” She closes her eyes for a few moments, content to lay here recovering with him on the floor. When she feels him shift, she opens her eyes to ask, “Want a bed?”

He knows she just said she’s fine and he can hear her offer a more comfortable spot to be with her, and yet he can’t shut off the voice in his head that’s telling him he went too far. Again. He thinks she’s just being kind somehow, biding her time until she thinks it’ll be safe to send him away and probably never see him again. This isn’t what women want. He isn’t what they want.

“Hey, Walter?” She's lifting up now, pushing herself to her knees and stretching her hand out to grab his. “Come on.”

He lets her help him up and lead him down the hall but he stops just as she crosses the bedroom threshold.

“I should go,” he drops her hand.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t sleep…this was… tonight…out of line,” he can’t form a coherent thought about it.

“You think I didn’t want that?” she asks carefully, reaching her hand for him again. “I absolutely wanted that. You have no idea.”

Walter lets himself be led into the room. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp she turns on, he can see the same level of comfort he found previously in the rest of the apartment. Cushy overstuffed chair in the corner by the window, side table stacked with books and more on the shelf nearby, lights strung around the window, plants along the sill, candles on the dresser.

He watches her toss a few throw pillows to the floor and pull the soft looking bedspread back before she climbs in and reaches out for him to join her. He crawls in and lets her settle against his chest, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, fingers caressing her skin.

“You know,” Alex starts. “I spend all my time in charge. Of students, volunteers, my own life. I make decisions all fucking day. Sometimes... I just...I don't know if you know how it feels to need...direction. I just want to be told what to do every once in a while. By someone who knows what they want.”

Walter takes a moment to process what she just confessed to him, then makes his own confession.

“I spend all my time chasing nightmares. I have this badge, this position, where I'm supposed to be in charge but shit falls apart all the time. If I had my way, no one would need to do this job, but here I am trying to make sense of the senseless. I guess I need something, someone, to conform to my will every now and then.”

She heaves a sigh and Walter knows it’s relief which allows him to finally relax. He reaches over to turn off the light, knowing he’ll wake with her in the morning.

That fucking bitch. I can’t believe she let him do that to her and then left with him. I was so close. I coulda had her. Was just waiting for those other skanks to take off. And then he showed up.

I cannot get away from him, no matter what I do.

But it's fine. More than fine. Because I know where she lives now.

Chapter 6

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