#walter marshall parent

[princessaxoxo]

Daddy's Surprise

Daddy!Walter x wife reader

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

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

Word Count: 1.6k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

🌾

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #night hunter #the farmer's daughter #series #au #backwoods au

[loganbcrnes]

you are the bane of my existence and the object of my desires

pairing: Captain Syverson x fem!reader

Summary: Feral Alpha Sy moves to a cabin owned by one of his old army buddy Logan. over time a relationship with his Omega neighbor blossoms. One morning hes thrown into a rut and you help him through it.

Tags: 18+, ABO, feral Alpha Syverson, Omega fem!reader, smut, dom/sub, knotting, orgasm, angry feral Sy, hard sex, pussy eating, oral, language, slightly connected to the MCU, mention of The Red Room, though a different interpretation of it, mention of Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

words: 3.9k

Authors note: hiii, finally written an abo sy oneshot. there isnt enough abo fics in the Henry Cavill universe, but there should be imo. this is pure filth just so yall r warned. A bit of backstory on my version of Captain Syverson. Hes originally born in Norway, but moved to Texas, USA  when he was 2 years old when his father got a good job offer. hence why his name is Bjørn Syverson, though throughout this fic he just goes by Sy. It is mentioned that he has brothers which are August Walker, Walter Marshall, Sherlock Holmes and Clark Kent, all were separated from birth, but after the death of Sy's parents, he united with them. hopefully in future fics, i can delve more into their backstory. :)

Readers ethnicity and body type isn't mentioned as i want everyone to feel included, just that she is European.

For a few passing seconds, you’re frozen with fear. It was drilled into you at a young age that a feral alpha in rut were dangerous. That you should never let yourself be alone with one, in case the unthinkable happened. But this isn’t just some feral alpha, this is Sy, who takes care of you with a gentleness you never thought you would get, a gentleness you never thought anyone could posses, let alone a feral alpha.

Feral alphas weren’t rare, but they weren’t exactly common either. Feralness mostly only occurs in male Alphas that have experienced traumatic events in their life, mostly veterans. And unfortunately governments are unable to equip the right tools to help these men. Since WW2 they have become more and more common, but scientists are never able to find the right cure and treatments to help them.

They say the only thing that would reduce the symptoms are compatible omegas, preferably mated. betas can too, but not to the extent omegas can. Eventually they end up going rogue if they are apart of a pack, if not, well they distance themselves from society, they seek out to the wilderness where they can be in their true form.

Now with Sy, being a veteran and POW, made him more prone to go feral. When he was saved from an old unit he was apart of, he began his recovery in a hospital for vets and feral alphas.

Things weren’t easy in the beginning, losing a leg and not having his own independence put him on edge all the time, but once he got released, he didn’t hesitate to move to the mountains in Canada. An old army buddy and alpha mate to his brothers, Logan, owned a couple of cabins and lent one to him. His brothers were against it, continually reminding him that their pack could take care of him and his needs. They didn’t mind Sy being with their mates, but it wasn’t them he didn’t trust, it was himself.

Sy would hate himself for evermore if he hurt them, he didn’t want to risk it. When Sy moved to the small cabin, he noticed he had a neighbor not so far away. He avoided you as much as possible in the beginning, but over time he started chatting with you, walking past each other on morning runs with their dogs, and in the end they became friends.

He learned that you moved out here because you wanted to start over. You had a difficult childhood from losing your mother to cancer and moving to a foreign country not knowing anyone nor the language. And when you thought your life was getting a better hold of itself, everything came crumbling down when you were kidnapped and taken into human trafficking.

It took 4 years before you were free from The Red Room. A place where they would experiment on Omegas. You spent a year in a mental hospital for omegas to recover. You were alone with no friends and family. You were in a state of depression and hopelessness. You wanted to get away from everything, so you discovered an ad of cabins for sale in Canada and set foot.

That was now 2 years ago, and don’t regret your decision for a second. You both took solace in each other, having similar experiences made the connection between you even stronger. It was nice having someone that wouldn’t tiptoe around you or took pity in you.

It was hard getting close to Sy in the beginning. Some days he was more closed off than others, but you understood it, and remained patient. Over time friendly feelings turned into romantic and you knew that Sy would never hurt you and had to remind him that occasionally.

His brothers came for a visit one time to give him a talking, convincing him to let himself feel love for once.

—

“Sy?” You whisper, trying to shift in his arms once more. The scent of leather and wet forest reeked throughout the room, has slick already wetting your underwear, far more than you’re used to, and you know straight away hes gone into rut. You’ve never shared your heat with anyone before. The idea of being so vulnerable around another person always filled you with dread especially after what happened, but even with the looming rut of the Alpha that holds you in his strong arms, all you can feel is a sense of belonging.

“Alpha, wake up.”

Despite your soft tone, Sy wakes with a harsh gasp and digs his fingers into your soft flesh on instinct like he’s trying to drag you impossibly closer to him. A surprised moan falls from his lips as he grinds up against your ass. “Oh, god -”

“Shh, it’s okay, Alpha.” You coo, reaching back to carefully run your fingers through his shaved head. “It’s okay, I’m here.” “Fuck, ya’ smell so good…” Sy groans at your scent of sweet ripe peaches and you give a discontented cry at the idea of not getting to help your Alpha through his rut. “If I continue, I won’t be able to stop ‘mega.” He growls. “I don’t want you to stop,” You whine, carefully pressing back against him. There’s nothing more to Bjørn Syverson than his careful, shielded control over his instincts, and as much as you love that about him, you want nothing more than for him to let go and pound you mercifully into your bed. “Let me take care of you, Alpha. Please?” “I could claim you.” He grits out, his words and actions stark contrasts of each other as he keeps rolling his hips in sharp movements. “I-I can’t take that choice from you, sweet ‘mega.” “This is my choice, you’re my choice.” You’ve never heard yourself sound so sincere and desperate at the same time, but you can feel the tightening need curling low in your belly. His scent is singing through your veins, lighting up your inner Omega in a way you’ve never felt. “I’ve never wanted anyone before you, but this… this is right." You’re on your back before you can even blink, Sy’s strong hands pinning you beneath him. The expectation was for him to rush into a devastating kiss but he sat back slightly and simply… looked at you. He studies your face intently, looking at your beautiful reddened cheeks splattered with freckles and the odd spots from your unbalance hormones, an issue that has been bugging you for the past few weeks. He watches as your hips grind up in search of relief. When he finally leans down, you try to meet him halfway but he dodges your kiss to bury his face in your neck. A groan vibrates through his chest and into yours as he inhales deeply, and you happily curl your fingers in his hair to hold him there. “Oh, honey…” Sy kisses your pulse and nuzzles against you, his beard the perfect rough contrast to the soft press of his lips. “You goin’ into heat, ‘mega? Just needed you’re Alpha, didn’t ya?” “Yes, please!” You beg, your nails clawing his head, dragging him down to slot your lips with his in a sloppy kiss. Every touch, every hint of his scent, every breathy groan that came from his lips makes that warmth spread through your entire body. Sy kisses you eagerly, caging you underneath him. He feels impossibly bigger above you and your inner Omega blooms with comfort and love. So you let yourself revel in it, no longer fighting off the instincts that beckon for you. Sy almost yelps in surprise when your thighs hook around his waist to drag him down closer but he follows your lead happily and goes to grind his clothed cock against you - just like you were expecting. Mischief soars through your chest as you twist and grapple until he’s underneath you, your mind egging you to make him prove his strength. A flash of concern darts through those pretty blue eyes of his, as if he’s worried you’ve suddenly changed your mind, but the sight of your playful grin just makes him smile in return. He lets you grab at him for a moment, barely bothering to bat your hands away as you try - and fail - to pin his arms at his sides. Amusement rolls through him. Oh, his sweet, fierce Omega. If you want him to show you his true worth as your Alpha, he’s going to deliver. Sy grabs you by your waist and drags you beneath him once more, a low growl ripping through his lips as you erupt into excited laughter. Both of your wrists are secured in one of his hands where he pins them to the mattress above your head and you feel so… helpless. The man above you is the picture of Alpha - chest heaving with every breath, eyes wild with need yet perfectly in control, gray briefs tented with his impressive thick length. He exudes power and you can’t get enough. “Gonna be good for me, Omega?” Sy rumbles. “Yes! So good, I promise.” You’re on the verge of begging, but before the honeyed words can drip from your lips, Sy quickly and carefully strips your pajamas from your body before ripping his off as well. There’s no stopping the garbled groan you give at the sight he makes above you. With your newly freed hands, you let your fingers trail down his hairy chest and stomach, watching enraptured as goosebumps follow your touch. “Good girl,” He guides your hand to his thick engorged cock and rolls his hips to thrust into your fist, not bothering to hide the way he practically purrs. You can see the bright intensity that burns through his entire being in each clench of his jaw and ripple of his muscles. He’s holding back, though, tempering his movements like he’s afraid he’ll scare you. Feral alphas don’t have a good reputation, they have little control over themselves. They take what they want, leaving nothing behind. But you trust Sy, and you don’t trust easily, especially with alphas, but Sy is different. You watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Sy growls as he licks your clit.

“So fucking hot, Darlin’.” Sy growls. “Been wanting to taste this sweet pussy since the day I met ya’. Kept holding myself back for so long, but not anymore ‘mega.” He said looking up at you.

You moan at the intensity of his words. “Yes!, please alpha don’t stop” you desperately beg him. Sy doesn’t waste any more time and goes down on you once again. His whole body is stretched out, his feet planted on the floor to hold himself in his position. You have never seen anything more beautiful.

You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance as if it’s the last meal he eats. You feel the hard tips of Sy’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge. He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little ‘mega” You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Sy continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

It took a few minutes to come down from your intense orgasm. Sy moves up pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. “You did so good for me, Honey.” He praises as you. “Mmmm” you hum, keening to the praises.

After a few more moments, you’re a whimpering mess again, grinding your clit against Sy’s muscular thigh. Sy growls as he pulls back, “Alpha,” You whisper, cupping his jaw gently to get him to meet your eyes and drawing him close for one last soft kiss before you guide him to scent your neck. The pheromones that pour off of you has his breath stuttering. “Don’t hold back.” A desperate growl fills the air as Sy manhandles you onto your hands and knees, He doesn’t even have to say the words before you’re already presenting yourself for him, your back arching with your face buried in the sheets, and two big hands settle on your thighs to spread you out even more for him with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now. “Oh, pretty girl…” Sy groans, trailing his fingers along your slick cunt and smirking at the way you chase his touch with a needy whine. Two thick fingers tease your entrance in slow circles before sinking into you to the knuckle and Sy chuckled darkly as you writhed beneath him. “Gonna feel perfect ‘round my cock, aren’tcha?” “Pl-ease,” You stutter out and Sy seems to take pity in the desperation your voice holds for him. He hushes the disappointed sound you give at the loss of his fingers, his hands massaging at your hips soothingly. The scent of your heat and his rut permeate the air and curl around each other until they’re one, a combination of you both hanging in the air with a sense of finality. Of destiny. Sy knew he was right where he belonged, where he was always supposed to be. He just had to reach out and take it. Twin groans fall from you both when he finally presses his cock against you, only pausing a moment before pushing into you in one long, slow thrust. Fuck, you knew he was big, could tell by the way he fit in your hand alone that it would be a stretch to fit him inside of you, but you didn’t expect… this. To feel so full, like you could feel him in your stomach. Instinct has you arching further into him, enticing him to move, to fuck you quick and hard. A warm hand settles at the nape of your neck and squeezes, holding you firmly to the bed, and your body and mind both melt into a submissive haze. If the authority that he holds in that one simple movement wasn’t enough to have you following his every command, his words that follow definitely would’ve. “Stay still, little Omega.” He growls out, his chest plastered to your back as he settles his large frame over you. The sharp nip of his teeth against your shoulder makes you shudder. “I’ll give you what you need, don’t you worry. Gonna knot this pretty pussy, make you mine.” Sy fucks you just like that - towering over you with his hand clamped on your neck, kissing and licking and biting his fill of your soft skin. You were expecting him to fuck you rough and fast right from the jump, but his first thrusts are slow and precise, and it takes a moment for your heat crazed mind to realize he’s savoring this. He’s taking the time to memorize how your cunt feels around him while he still can, before his rut fully takes him from his careful and calculating self to a pussy-drunk and needy Alpha that wants nothing more than his sweet Omega underneath him. Slapping sounds fill the room as he quickens the pace, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. You can feel his heavy balls slapping against your pussy, you let out pornographic moans and he continues to force your face into the bed by your neck. You’ve always wanted this, craved it ever since you were a hormonal teen, just wanting to be taken apart by a strong alpha. his fingers find your clit. A groan falls from his lips at the way your cunt flutters around him at his stimulation and you feel the first signs of his control crumbling in the way he thrusts into you sharply. “Alpha,” You whine, your voice low and pleading so very softly for him. “Please, I need you, need your knot -” The world falls out from under you as Sy pulls out suddenly, the exact opposite of what you were searching for, but you can’t voice your disdain before you’re on your back, blinking surprised up at a wild feral looking Sy. He doesn’t waste time slamming back inside you, fucking you hard without warning. “Perfect fuckin’ Omega,” Sy spits out like he’s enraged, but you keen beneath him nonetheless, pressing your legs to your chest as pleasure sparks across your skin. “Lettin’ me fill you up, takin’ me just like your s’posed to.” He growls, making you succumb deeper to a submissive state, making it known to Sy he can do whatever he wants, your body is his. Sy bends down sucking on one of your nipples, you moan as even more pleasure fills your body from the sensitivity of your nipples. You look down, watching as his fat cock thrusts in and out of you, his pubic hair getting wet from your slick. His balls tightening with each thrust. Thoughts of him rubbing his balls over your face fills your mind, but was quickly interrupted as Sy slightly changes the position. He holds your body closer, your tits pressed against his sweaty hairy chest. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on. “Sy, I-I’m gonna–” “I can smell it,” he groans, mouth your neck just above where your bond mark would be as he sucks harshly on it.  A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate. His hand grips your jaw suddenly, not enough to hurt but enough to get your attention through the haziness overtaking your mind. “Gimme those eyes, thaaaat’s it… you love this, don’tcha? All cock drunk and pretty for me, huh?” The praise washes over you like a salve to your aches and you open your mouth when his thumb drifts over your bottom lip, watching the way his eyes darken as you lick the tip of his thumb. Sy eagerly lets you draw it between your lips, even sliding it in and out like he would if he were fucking your mouth, and he lets out a low, “ah, fuck,” You can feel the flare of his growing knot catching with his every thrust. “Cum for me again, Omega,” His voice carries the undeniable thread of Alpha dominance, a command that cannot be denied even if you wanted to. Your body shakes beneath him as his fingers threaten to send you directly into over-stimulation, unable to keep your eyes open under the fire of pleasure blazing through your body. Sy’s face falls to your neck where your head is thrown back into the pillows and he greedily takes in your pleasure-drenched scent. “That’s my good girl, so fuckin’ good for me. Fuck.” “Sy,” You whimper his name so sweetly as you tangle your fingers in his hair and it sends him over the edge into a devastating orgasm. His growl is more animal than man as his knot locks him inside of you. He buries his head and finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, claiming you as his. Screams blow past your lips, your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood. “That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect for your Alpha.” Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to anyone as you do right now. You start to get overwhelmed with emotion as tears begin to fill, the connection between you and Sy binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now. Sy sucks the bond mark, easing the pain. “C’mon, ‘mega, bite me. Gotta mark me, too, Darlin’, c’mon,” He urges and for a moment you think your muddled mind is making you hallucinate. It isn’t exactly unheard of, an Alpha accepting their Omega’s mark, but it isn’t common, either. An alpha accepting a bite mark showcases an alpha submission and devotion to their omega. Your heart flutters in your chest as you lean up to kiss his neck before giving him a matching mark, right above his collarbone. Sy lets his mind run on that primal instinct of cleaning and caring for his mate, carefully licking the mark he left seared into your skin. It takes a moment’s shuffling, but Sy shifts until he’s got you settled on his chest to wait out his knot. It’s endearing, the way his hands rub up and down your bare back soothingly. His balloon size knot spurting out warm cum inside of you, you moan at the sensation and Sy growls lightly. Soft kisses slowly turned into licks, you were a little confused “what are you doing?” “Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it. It goes on like that for a few days. In between the desperate bouts of fucking and sucking, Sy insists you let him feed you. Little bites of fruits and the protein rich heat snacks you kept around for this very scenario, held up to your lips by your insistent Alpha. The one time you tried to sneak from your bed while he slept ended with you fucked and knotted over the kitchen island. And even though it was a slightly uncomfortable position to be stuck in… It’s everything you want, everything you’ve ever wanted without even realizing it.

#captain syverson #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #alpha captain syverson #captain syverson x fem!reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill abo #alpha henry cavill

[adriennebarnes]

We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: In this, we will see the friendship between Walter and Y/N and Walter’s first act of protectiveness; let’s face it, it wasn’t his first time punching a man because of Y/N

A/N: If y’all have seen Gilmore Girls, Walter and Y/N will be like Luke and Lorelai in the way that they hang out outside of work. If y’all haven’t, Luke/Walter is known for being grumpy in his place of work and in general. BUT he lets Lorelai/YN who is basically a ray of sunshine on caffeine get away with EVERYTHING. Lorelai/YN call Luke/Walter if they need to rant or need something fixed, they have a good friendship, very “you came, you called”

Ever since Walter gave Y/N apology cookies, they were closer, they got to know each other. They even started hanging out at friends outside of work which was rare for Walter.

Walter and Y/N could be seen at the mall, shopping for Faye because Walter is clueless about what to get her. They were walking down the aisles at Barnes and Noble.

“How do you not know what to get your daughter, Don Refri?” Y/N asked him.

“I thought that name was for the district.” Walter said.

“That name is for everywhere, Don Refri. Seriously, how do you not know?” Y/N stopped walking and stood in front of him.

“I know what my daughter likes, the only problem is that I don’t know if Angie and her new husband have already bought it for her.” Walter said, looking down at Y/N (I'm 5'3 and a half, yes, my doctor counts the half inch, but Henry is 6'1 so he's pretty tall, whatever height you are, he will still be looking down at you)

“Yeah, divorce makes it harder. I’m Just guessing, my parents are still together.” Y/N said with a smile. (If they are divorced, ignore that last sentence) “How about a funko pop, does she like Marvel?" Y/N said, holding up a Captain America funko pop that was on the shelf.

"I think she is more of a DC fan." Walter said, poking the Superman funko pop on the shelf.

They could even be seen at Y/N's apartment drinking coffee.

"Thanks again for fixing my lock, it was driving me crazy.” Y/N said, giving Walter a pan dulce to drink with his coffee.

“Yeah of course, wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe in the neighborhood.” Walter said.

“Still, you could have come tomorrow but you came tonight, so I appreciate it.” Y/N said.

“It’s a 5 minute drive, you’re close by. What is this, by the way?” Walter asked

“It’s pan dulce, there’s a little Mexican bakery that i like to go to, really good, I gave you a concha.” Y/N said, also taking a bite out of her concha. Walter have it a taste.

“You’re right, it’s really good.” Walter said. They kept talking until Walter finished his coffee and they said goodbye.

The next day, Walter came into the police department with a thermos in hand and an paper bag in the other. He walked over to Y/N’s cubicle and knocked on her desk.

“Good morning, Don Refri, how are you today?” Y/N asked.

“Good morning to you too, Y/N, I’m good, and you?” Walter replied.

“Im good, what’s in the bag?” Y/N asked, she was curious to know what’s inside.

“I went to the coffee shop this morning and got you something. It might not be as good as the pan Dulce from your Mexican bakery, but this coffee shop is Latina owned.” Walter said and Y/N opened the paper bag and saw manteconchas and polvorones.

“Oh my gosh, they look so good, they smell good too, gracias Don Refri, ya te estás calentando.” Y/N said, giving him a hug. Walter hugged back and went to his office while Rachel turned to Y/N with a smirk on her face.

“Walter brought you Mexican pastries? How nice of him, looks like you might be his favorite.” Rachel said.

“Maybe it’s because I’m new, I’m sure the novelty will wear off.” Y/N said.

“Maybe, maybe not. Who knows.” Rachel said, going downstairs.

A week later, Y/N entered the department and it was all chaos, she walked over to Glasgow to see if he could tell her what’s going on.

“Why is everyone acting like my mom when Luis Miguel announced his tour?” Y/N asked.

“Detective Marshall finally found a lead to the guy who’s been trafficking teenaged girls. We got his license plate and planted a tracking device on his van so Walter asked me to see where the van stops and that’ll be this guy’s hide out,” Glasgow explained. A few minutes later, “I found him! He’s in an All Inc Warehouse!”

“Let’s get a move on, we’re finally gonna get this son of a bitch.” Walter said as he grabbed his gun and out on his vest to leave with the other officers.

“What does he mean by ‘finally’? Has this been a tough case?” Y/N said, finally being able to sit at her desk.

“Detective grumpy has been working on this case for a month. It’s been driving him crazy knowing that the guy was still out there.” Rachel said, walking in, sipping her coffee.

“Then I’m glad he’s finally catching him.” Y/N said.

An hour later, Walter walked into the district with the guy in handcuffs. Walter takes him downstairs to put him in a holding cell. He walked back upstairs.

“Y/N, i need to fill out a report, come with me please.” Walter said and Y/N followed him.

“Congratulations on the arrest, Don Refri. How does it feel?” Y/N asked.

“It feels good. How was the Mexican bread?” Walter asked.

“The polvorones we’re really good and the manteconcha was delicious. I saved you a polvorón because you have to try it. Where did you get them?” Y/N asked.

“I got it at Abogados Café.” Walter said. “What does that mean, by the way?”

“Lawyers coffee. Do they have Cuban coffee?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, we can check it some other day.” Walter said.

Hours later, Walter and Y/N were finishing their paper work.

“Hey Don Refri, how do you feel about going to a bar tonight? You don’t have to drink, but I think it’ll be fun. We could celebrate that you finally solved that case! Rachel told me you’ve been working on that shit for a month.” Y/N said as she put on her jacket.

“I Don’t know about that, Y/N.” Walter said.

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to get drunk. Let’s just go to a bar, you can play pool with the guys, I can eat some fries. We could go to Brunson’s Pub! Or Skinner’s or Iron Ranger, I don’t care, I just want a night out and I really don’t feel like cooking.” Y/N practically begged Walter as she was holding onto his biceps.

“Fine, fine, we’ll go to Brunson’s, they have more food there, I’ll tell the guys, you can tell Rachel. Group celebration.” Walter said and Y/N was happy. She texted Rachel about going to the pub and Rachel was down.

“Rachel said she’ll be there, what about Matthew and Glasgow?” Y/N said.

“Yeah, they’re coming too. You want me to drive you?” Walter said.

“And leave my car here?” Y/N asked.

“I’ll drive you to work tomorrow, it’ll be fine. This way you can drink as much as you want.” Walter said.

“Jaja, mira que funny eres.” Y/N said. They walked out of the department and got into Walter’s car. Walter put on a random playlist on Spotify. Y/N was looking out the window when she heard a familiar song, “Oh my gosh, I haven’t heard this song in forever. I love ‘colgando en tus manos’, my mom would play it in the house all the time.”

“Yeah, I found a playlist with Spanish songs, thought it would be good, maybe help with my Spanish with us being friends and all.” Walter said.

“You Don’t even know what Carlos Baute is singing right now.” Y/N commented.

“It doesn’t matter, you like this kind of music, right?” Walter asked.

“It reminds me of my life in Miami, before Latin music went mainstream.” Y/N said. They kept talking and listening to music until Walter parked in the parking lot at Brunson’s. They walked in together.

“Hey, look who made it! Detective Grumpy and his sunshine partner.” Matthew said.

“Hey, we’re not at work right now but I’m still your boss, watch it. How much have you had to drink?” Walter asked.

“He had 3 tequila shots.” Glasgow said.

“How did he get here?” Walter asked.

“I took an Uber.” Matthew said.

“Same.” Rachel and Glasgow said.

“Great, well I gotta stay sober because I have to take Y/N home. What do you want to drink?” Walter asked, turning to Y/N.

“I want a ‘bad hombre’ and you should get yourself a beer, we’re celebrating you, you should be able to let loose.” Y/N said.

“All right, I’ll go to the bar.” Walter said and Y/N slid into the booth. Walter came back with a beer, a “bad hombre” which has reposado and mezcal, and an Italian sandwich for Y/N. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Don refri.” Y/N said. They were all talking and laughing, having a good time but Walter stepped away. “Damn, I’m running low, I’m gonna see of i Can get a beer, be right back.” Y/N said and walked to the bar when bumped into a tall man. “Oh I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good. Wait a minute, Y/N?” The man said and Y/N looked up to see a familiar face.

“No way, Mitch, how are you? What are you doing here in Minnesota?” Y/N asked as she hugged Mitch (Dylan O’Brien) a friend she made back in Virginia.

“My brother Steven wanted to go skiing. You want me to order you a beer?” Mitch asked.

“Yeah, get me a modelo.” Y/N said and Mitch told the bartender to get him two modelo beers. “Well, how’s the CIA treating you?”

“The CIA is fine. Listen, I’m sorry to hear that the FBI didn’t work out for you but maybe you can come back to Virginia and become part of the CIA.” Mitch said.

“I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can cut out as a CIA agent.” Y/N said. They kept talking and Walter got out of the bathroom to see Y/N talking to Mitch. He went back to his booth.

“Who’s that guy?” Walter asked.

“I Don’t know but he’s cute.” Rachel said. Walter went closer to hear their conversation.

“You’d do great. I swear, I would love to work with you.” Mitch said.

“Mitch, honestly, stop insisting, I’m not doing it.” Y/N said. All Walter heard was Y/N telling Mitch “no” so Walter got closer and..

“Didn’t you hear her? She said no.” And Walter decked Mitch, Mitch landing in the floor. Y/N got out of her stool.

“Walter! What did you do?” Y/N asked, facing Walter.

“Wasn’t he bothering you?” Walter asked.

“No! Walter this is Mitch, my friend who’s in the CIA. Mitch, this is Walter.” Y/N said as she helped Mitch off the floor.

“He’s your boyfriend or something?” Mitch asked.

“No, we’re just friends.” Y/N said and Walter walked outside the bar, he needed fresh air. “And he’s technically my boss at the police department. He’s a detective.”

“Well He’s quite protective of you. I should give you my number so we could hang out next time I’m in Minnesota.” Mitch said,

“That would be great.” Y/N said and they exchanged numbers. “It was great seeing you, I gotta talk to Walter.” Y/N walked outside and saw Walter leaning against his car. “What the hell was that in there?”

“Sorry, Y/N, I thought he was just a random drunk harassing you. I didn’t know he was a friend of yours.” Walter admitted.

“You could have asked. Just don’t do it again, okay.” Y/N said,

“I won’t. Are you sure you’re all right? He didn’t try anything?” Walter asked,

“Nah, Mitch is a good guy, he wanted me to ‘try out’ for the CIA but I told him no. Thanks for being protective though, I appreciate it.” Y/N said and she hugged him. “Can we go back inside? I’m kinda cold and this skirt isn’t helping.” Y/N said and Walter chuckled.

“Yeah, we can go back inside.” Walter said, leading her into the pub with his hand on the small of her back.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! i just guessed about the Latina owned coffee shop but then I was looking up coffee shops in Saint Paul and that’s when I found Abogados Café! I looked up the bars and the warehouses because I like my fanfics to be accurate when I’m writing about a state I don’t know anything about. Also, super sorry about the late “update”, I’m finishing up the fall semester and i have so much work to do but I’m procrastinating so…that’s gonna bite me in the ass when the time comes. Comment if you want to be added to the tag list

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @warriormirkwood @secretdream2

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

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Sixteen

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Sixteen Summary: Marshall opens up about his past.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3.1k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Sixteen Warnings: slight angst, discussion of murder and violence against women, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of body fluids, I think thats it

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .

So... Been a while... I am really nervous about posting because it has been so long! But I put my big girl pants on and I'm just going to do it. This chapter had to be split in half, which was a small reason for why this took so long to put out, the other part is that I think some of it is a bit dry... Exposition is hard!!!! The next part isn't quite finished but this point was a natural stopping point so I figure, post this and then maybe I won't be so in my head about the next bit.

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Fifteen Part Seventeen

Lori

I woke up with a start.

My heart was beating as fast as a mouse’s and I was sucking in huge gulps of air that failed to fill the hollow in my chest. I was shaking, every muscle and sinew quivering with a chilling thrum, yet I was frozen. I willed myself to move but my glaciated neurons refused to fire, iced over, hardened, ready to snap.

From behind me, a heavy arm moved on my waist and a hand pressed against my belly as soft whiskers and gentle lips caressed and the back of my neck. Relief warmed my blood in a balmy rush, my body thawing in a heady and welcomed surge.

Marshall. It was only Marshall.

“Alright?” he asked, his voice low and rough from sleep.

I hummed, not quite ready to speak. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. Small and generic, its garish neon green digital numerals reminded me that my room wasn’t actually my room and my briefly mollified anxiety inched its way back into my tightening chest.

I’d barely slept, little more than dozed. I wondered if I should get up and shower, but I didn’t want to disturb Marshall. So I laid there and listened to his breathing return to its regular cadence while I tried to recall and hold onto my dream. I might as well have tried to catch a cloud, the memories were wispy vapours, too vague and insubstantial to retain, leaving behind echoing stains of dread and emptiness. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what I had dreamed of. The strange and rapid life changes over the past couple of weeks made it possible for me to push aside the grief from the loss of my parents and focus on other things like my anger at Nate, the shocking revelations about Jake, and the developing situation with the Brothers. I may have made a conscious decision not to dwell and process my emotions, but my subconscious was obviously not on board.

I focussed on the rhythm of Marshall’s breathing, the soft reverberation in his throat on each inhale and the sturdy snugness of his arms while I pushed down the lingering feelings, stuffing them like clothes into a laundry basket, deep into the recesses of my mind. Even as I crammed them away, I knew I’d have to deal with my emotions at some point. I told myself I would, just not today, or tomorrow. Maybe in a month or two. Or three. When I was home again, or alone, or when things were back to normal.

Eventually, the residual fear from my lost dream ebbed and slowly faded while a myriad of new ones took its place. 

Had last night been another mistake on the long list of mistakes I had made. Was Marshall another Jake? Was Sy for that matter?

Sy.

Now that Marshall and I had crossed the Rubicon, would Sy still feel the same way about me when he returned and faced the reality of what he had agreed to? Or, had the existence of the pact forced him to adhere to it out of a sense of bravado and loyalty to the Brotherhood? Had I just turned myself into another groupie, a woman destined for a lifetime of disrespect, deception and disillusion, stupidly thinking that an outlaw, an outsider, a biker, could change for them?

I waited for the gut feeling that I had fucked up by sleeping with Marshall to arrive, but it never came. Of course there were no guarantees in any relationship, but everything that had happened with Marshall had felt sincere and genuine. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Marshall grumbled. His breath was warm against my ear and his gentle accent made me shiver as a heated rush rippled across my skin, soothing and comforting me.

“I thought you were asleep,” I said.

He grunted and shifted his body until he laid on his back. I rolled over, following him and he tucked me under his arm. He glanced with a half smile that I barely picked up in the darkness of the room. I returned it and his grin grew slightly bigger before he laid his head back into the pillows.

“My sleep cycle has been off for years. Never recovered from shift work with the PD.”

I shimmied closer to him, pressing my breasts against his side, resting my thigh across his hips and dipped my fingers into the thick, coarse curls that spread across his chest from shoulder to shoulder. In response, I felt him stroke my arm, the tips of his fingers tracing an invisible path.

“Marshall?”

“Lori,” he replied, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“How did you end up in the Brotherhood?”

His smile vanished instantly and after a couple of passes over my arm, his hand stopped his caress, pausing mid stroke. His eyes sought out mine and I made it easier for him, by laying my chin on his chest, ignoring the way his wispy hairs tickled my jaw.

“There were a series of murders. Women, young women, some still teens. To call them murders doesn’t go far enough, each one was assaulted, tortured…” Marshall trailed off but his fingers began to stroke me again, this time sweeping over my back.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said.

Marshall grunted and took a deep breath. “It was a long investigation that led nowhere. We had physical evidence, DNA, but no matches in the system and no motives. There were no useful eyewitnesses, no connections between the victims, they were of different racial backgrounds, economic status, from all over the city. We kept hitting dead ends, every lead we had didn’t pan out. Meanwhile, more girls were showing up dead, nearly a dozen and the media were breathing down our necks.”

He scoffed, his lip curled in disgust.

“They can be viscous,” I said, remembering the media circus that followed my parents' death.

Lifting his head, Marshall kissed my forehead before continuing.

“Eventually a name popped up that looked promising, he had been a contact in four of the victim’s phones. No other number had shown up twice, let alone four times. So we started an investigation into him. Found out he was a CEO of a financial institution or an investment bank, I don’t remember which. He was young, one of those prodigious financial wizards that seemed to have the Midas touch. He was famous in the financial world, puff pieces in newspapers, magazines, you know the type?”

I nodded and he continued.

“We’d barely gotten further than collecting basic background on this guy when the case was taken out of our hands by the Feds. I was furious, obviously, their jurisdiction over the case was on a flimsy basis at best. There was nothing I could do about it but wait for news of the investigation. However, months went by and… nothing. No news, no arrests, no more media reports, nothing.”

“He wasn’t the guy?”

Marshall shrugged. “I thought I must have been wrong. After a year, a homeless guy was arrested and charged.”

“So you had the wrong guy, after all?”

Marshall chuffed and shook his head.

“I knew in my gut the man they arrested was a patsy. I looked into it. I talked to some of his friends from the streets and as far as I could tell he wasn’t even in town when the first three victims had been murdered. His friends said he came to the city to attend the funeral of his murdered daughter.”

“No,” I gasped, my mouth covering my hand in shock.

“Yes,” Marshall said, “He was the father of the first victim we found. We had tried to contact him in the early days of the investigation, but he couldn’t be located. By the time he had discovered what happened to his daughter, there had been other victims and it was no longer a priority to find him and rule him out as a suspect.”

I thought about Nate and my father. I had never been privy to the dealings of the club, but you picked things up. The club had a surprisingly low number of members with criminal records and although I had never been explicitly told, I knew it was because the “right” people had been paid off for years. I figured the real killer must have been doing something similar, but on a massive scale.

“So what did you do?” I asked. 

“I took my theories up the chain and requested permission to do my own investigation. I was told in no uncertain terms that if I did that, it would cost me my badge.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Shit.”

“I couldn’t let it go though. I knew I couldn’t investigate alone and I suspected that I might be under surveillance. I couldn’t ask anyone else in the department to risk their job, so I called a guy I trusted. He used to be a bounty hunter but by then was working as a private security contractor.”

“Geralt?” I guessed.

“Geralt,” Marshall repeated. “He used his connections and reported back that there had been rumours floating about this guy for years, from his college days to his early Wall Street days to this case. Reports of domestic violence from women he’d had relationships with and assaults on sex workers that always seemed to be retracted or ignored. Somehow, this fucking guy kept getting away with fucking murder because of his connections.”

He closed his eyes and the muscles of his jaw pulsed beneath his thickly bearded skin. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes and his voice was husky as he continued.

“When I realised what they had done to that man, that girl’s father… I wasn’t particularly idealistic and I wasn’t naive, but I had never thought that this level of corruption could happen. The Feds, the media, the PD; how many people must be involved, how many people were paid off or blackmailed? Everything I knew, everything I….”

He shrugged and was quiet. I waited, sure he had more to say. But he stayed silent, jaw twitching again and his eyes seemed to glaze over as his thoughts seemed to drift away.

I placed my hand on his cheek, my thumb sweeping along the bone and tilted my head to kiss his chest softly. Marshall’s hand went to my hair stroking my hair off my face.

“I quit. I couldn’t do that kind of work again, not knowing what I knew. I went back to Geralt, thinking with my SWAT background, maybe I’d try private security. Instead, Geralt introduced me to Sy and Walker.”

“What happened to the CEO?”

Marshall’s grin was a little disconcerting as he replied, “He got his in the end. An international financial scandal ruined him. The bank he headed was laundering money for the cartels and he was directly implicated in running the scam. The CIA got him for that one, apparently his reach didn’t go that far.”

“What happened to the father?” I asked.

“Suicide in prison while awaiting trial. It was a fucking joke.”

“I’m sorry, Walter,” I said softly.

His eyes found mine. Blue, deep and clear, they held me and I couldn’t look away. He sighed and shifted his hips. The movement made his thigh brush high between my legs and I became very conscious of the fact that both of us were naked.

The atmosphere changed, the air crackled with an electric anticipation and a heady jolt of lust worked its way down my spine to my core. I wasn’t alone, Marshall breathing became heavy, his nostrils flaring as he drew in each breath and his chest swelled.

His fingertips began to skim over my back again, and my skin broke out in goosebumps as I shivered with pleasure. His burly arms drew me to his chest, the coarse hair tickled my nipples as he guided me onto my back. Blanketing me with his comfortingly heavy body, his weight was concentrated at our hips and effectively pinned me to the mattress. My legs split beneath him, opening myself up in a shameless invitation. He took the hint, and he rolled his hips against me as he kissed me. 

It was like he was a different man; his feral, almost brutal urgency gave way to languid deliberateness. His lips moved down the column of my neck, hands exploring, clasping my ribs as if he wanted to caress not just the flesh, but the bones beneath. Moving with barely restrained greed, he slipped my nipple into his mouth and his teeth captured it while his velvety tongue flicked. His lips were satin, his beard was rugged silk, equally coarse and soft as he kissed and rubbed his cheeks against the sensitive skin between my breasts.

Opening his bearded jaw wide, he took more of me into his mouth than just my pink pebbled nipple. I watched bleary eyed as creamy skin disappeared into his warm mouth and his tongue lashed. My fingers slid into his thick curls, holding him close, begging for more.

I moved a hand down his shoulder and back feeling his dense muscles ripple under my touch. I went lower, down his side and abdomen, a rush of heat surged through me as my fingers found the trail of hair below his navel. I wanted to follow its path, wanted to feel him throbbing just like I was.

Thwarting my plans, Marshall laid warm, wet, kisses down my tummy, and became out of reach. I let out a petulant moan and he grinned, rubbing his beard against a sensitive spot near my hip, making me giggle and squirm out of his grasp. He caught my hip and pushed me down to the bed again in a flash back to his earlier impatience.

“Shh,” he soothed with a wolfish grin.

His hand swept down my thigh, curling under my knee and gently guiding my legs further apart. His kisses started at my knee and moved down the inside of my thigh, heat from his mouth made me shiver and I fell back onto the bed. He got closer to my soaked, throbbing core and I felt his tongue at the crease of my thigh, lapping at the combined wetness there from both my arousal and his release.

I gasped and leaned up on my elbows to watch and his feverish blue eyes were looking up at me from between my legs. My body looked as aroused as I felt, nipples tight and hard, tummy and thighs trembling, my pussy was swollen and glistening with the remains of our previous, furious love making.

Fingers glided over me, thumbs pulling apart my folds, his breath simultaneously warm and cooling against my hot throbbing sensitive skin. A finger teased my weeping core, swirling at my entrance. I was on fire, desperately clenching at nothing, and I could feel evidence of his orgasm leaked from within me.

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath.

“Marshall,” I said breathlessly, reaching for his shoulders, trying to pull him up to me, “stop teasing me. Just fuck me.”

“I’ll fuck you,” he said, voice husky, almost gone. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t catch against my pussy.

The feel of his tongue prodding my entrance, no doubt tasting himself as he ate me out was so wickedly filthy to me that I was completely transfixed by the lurid eroticism, I’d never experienced anything like it. I could barely hold myself up, but the sight of him practically pussy drunk and groaning was too good not to look at. He growled, his arms wrapped around my thighs and he pushed his face into me, soft prickles of his beard against me made me shake even more and despite wanting to keep watching, I fell back to the mattress.

Suede-like brushes against my clit had me shaking, the tension in my muscles quivering like violin strings. Jesus christ he was amazing, then he sucked softly on my clit, and I was gone, crying out as my hands tangled in his hair, tightening into fists and held him against me. He didn’t stop as I came, his hands moved to my hips, his long fingers splayed across my belly and waist as if he wanted to feel my body move as I buckled.

My hands unclenched, and I shuddered with aftershocks as Marshall stayed where he was, softly licking at my core. I closed my eyes, bathing in the post orgasm euphoria, running my fingers through his hair. He didn’t stop kissing me as he moved up my body and rested a fraction of his weight against me. His hand was warm as he cupped my cheek and covered my mouth with his. I could taste us on his lips and tongue, his beard was soaked too. I was so turned on that after the flavour faded from his mouth, I swept my tongue over his chin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “You taste good, don’t you?”

I hesitated, self-consciousness creeping in and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Marshall stroked my cheek with his thumb and I opened my eyes and realised that he wasn’t trying to shame me.

“You taste good too,” I said.

He smiled, his lips parting just enough to see his teeth, before he grew a little serious. His hand curled around the back of knee, lifting and opening me again, and he adjusted his body in a way that made me gasp. Poised, and ready, his silky hardness waited, his brows raising just enough to ask the unspoken question.

“Yes,” I murmured.

His mouth was on mine as he slid inside me, our kiss muffling both our moans. We stayed like that, joined and locked together, hungrily swallowing the others whispered words and whimpers. Fingers sought mine, and lacing them together he squeezed, gripping me and releasing me in time with his steady rocking movements.

He knew what he was doing, making sure I could feel every inch of his thick and rigid length, making sure he found that spot that made my breath hitch every time. His breath was coming in harder and heavier, each exhale punctuated by a muted grunt. I couldn’t focus, I had to close my eyes. Fuck, he really knew what he was doing.

“Marshall,” I gasped. I don’t know why I spoke. I was riding close to the edge, any second now and I would fall.

“Yes,” he growled, “Fuck, yes.”

I fell.

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[witchersmistress]

Wedding Night Woes

Hello my darlings!! here is a little more Walter for ya....

Trigger Warnings: Blood, swearing, violent threats, Walter being an asshole. loss of virginity, more asshole behavior from Walter. gentle rough sex, body peircings.

Word count: 3.5K

Walter’s POV

My wife stands before me in the very spot I signed my life away for her three years ago. Her watery eyes meet mine, and I smile at the blood smeared across her lips. I felt her body stiffen when I kissed her at first. The way she tried to fight me. But a part of her, the best part, melted into me. Her body is going to crave being mine. I’m going to parade her around as my own personal fucking trophy for all to see. For her father to be disgusted and ashamed. The bell is rung, slicing through the silence of the Cathedral. She jumps at the loud intrusion, trying to take a step back, but I hold her in place. My eyes drop to the blood trail that makes its way from her neck to her chest. She will bleed for me in more ways than one tonight.  “Walter.” My name is spoken softly on her trembling lips. “Yes, little darling?” My eyes lift to meet hers. “Go to hell,” she whispers, referring to my last statement.  I smile at her. “It’s going to be so much fun bringing you to your knees, Mrs. Marshall.” She swallows.

 Amelia’s POV

 He grabs my hand and helps me off the altar, and immediately pulls me down the aisle covered in the white carpet. Everyone stands on either side to watch us go. My parents don’t even try to catch up and speak to me. But what is there to say? It’s too late. I’m now married in the eyes of the Ravens. The pastor didn’t even ask those who opposed to speak now or forever hold their peace. Because he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Once a Master chooses his Ravenias, there is no going back. We make our way outside and rain instantly drenches me. I squeal, throwing my free arm over my head. He’s already got a black limo parked right in front of the Cathedral, and he holds the back door open for me to jump in. That’s probably the most gentlemanly thing he’ll ever do for me. I get as far away from him as I can, which is hard, considering my dress is in the way. Finding a seat, I yank on my train just as he shoves it into the car and gets in. Placing my hands on the now ruined silk, I don’t even bother looking out the window to see if my family came out to see us off. It doesn’t matter. There was a big and elaborate wedding reception planned that was also supposed to take place at the Cathedral but I’m guessing that’s no longer needed.

 He proved his point and made me his wife. We sit in silence as the driver takes the curvy two-lane road while the rain comes pouring down. He takes us downtown and my heart races when he pulls under the awning of the hotel, knowing why we’re here. I was hoping that he’d skip this part. The valet opens the back door for us, and Walter exits. It takes me a moment to get back by the door, and I mumble a thank you as a man at the valet helps me out. “Congratulations.” The guy smiles when his eyes land on my wedding dress, and I feel my shoulders slump, unable to thank him this time. No matter how rude of me that is. Walter takes my hand and drags me up the black velvet stairs and through the glass door. I feel eyes on us, so I keep mine on the white marble floor with the black diamond inlay design. My heels get caught in the dress, and I almost trip, but he yanks on my hand, keeping me up. We make our way through the elaborate lobby of the luxury hotel and to the elevators. We have to wait for ours, and I try to calm my breathing. I’ve spent a lot of my childhood here at the Harlowe. My father owns it. He has over five hundred locations in the United States alone.

People check in having no clue what kind of illegal activity goes down here. The Ravens place their members throughout the world to benefit their society. They will take the worst kind of evil, dress it up in a ten-thousand-dollar suit and give them an expensive bottle of scotch and the ability to suck your soul out of your body without you knowing. I’ve seen my dad do it too many times. Poor bastards never see it coming. Our elevator opens up, and we step into it. Walter pulls out a card before scanning it. This is the only one that has access to the floor. H for the honeymoon suite lights up and takes us over twenty-five floors up in silence. I run my wet hands down my dress when the door slides open, and we step into the suite. On any other day, it would be gorgeous. Red and white rose petals litter the white and gray marble floor. A black circular table sits in the middle of the foyer. A glass vase sits on top with the most beautiful red roses I’ve ever seen, and a bottle of champagne along with two flutes sits on either side. He walks past them, stepping down into the open living room. I slowly follow. “Gavin will be here shortly.” He finally speaks to me, making my pulse race. I’ve heard that name before. I’ve seen him a couple of times when he came to visit my father.  I’m pretty sure he’s a doctor. That has to be wrong. “Who … who is he?” That’s my biggest fear. That he’ll whore me out. Let others use me because I’m no use to him. Sell my body to make him some extra cash.

 This isn’t a marriage out of love. So why would he treat me with respect? “A doctor,” he clips, removing his black tuxedo jacket from his broad shoulders while walking farther into the room. I take a look around, seeing more flowers all over. The overwhelming smell almost makes me gag. I swallow nervously. Afraid I was right. “Why … Why do we need a doctor?” He comes to a stop and turns to face me, his peircing-blue eyes scrutinizing my smeared makeup from the downpour. I hate that I care what I look like right now. “Are you on birth control?” My cheeks flush. Phil didn’t want me on birth control. He wanted a baby straight away. An heir. A Raven is nothing if he doesn’t have someone to carry on his name. I hadn’t quite figured out how I was going to keep that from happening, but I wasn’t going to have Phil’s child. I answer Walter. “No.” “Exactly.” Turning his back to me, he goes over to the baby grand piano. A silver tray sits on top with a tinted decanter with an M in the middle. He removes the glass diamond top and pours the whiskey into one of the glasses that sits next to it. “The last thing I want to do is knock you up,” he adds.

I want to be happy that he doesn’t want to get me pregnant because I don’t want kids either. But instead, it pisses me off because it’s just one more way he’ll control me. Why wouldn’t he take away my ability to reproduce? Taking in a deep breath, I remind myself it’s something we agree on. But that thought also makes the hair stand on the back of my neck. He’s going to fuck me. I knew this day would come. That it would be my wedding day when a man would take my virginity. I just never thought it’d be my sister’s ex. A part of the agreement of me being handed over to Phil was that I was a virgin. I know the Ravens have to abstain from sex their first three 8 years at Barrington. He wanted me to remain one until our wedding night. If I didn’t bleed for him, then I would be considered a whore. My parents promised him my innocence, and I had to deliver. I know for a fact that Phil had been fucking women the past few years. I didn’t care. I actually prayed to God, hoping that Phil would fall in love with one of them and forget about his arrangement with me. They were not answered. Instead, God laughed at me and sent me someone far worse than Phil. 

“Here.” Walter offers me the second glass of whiskey, and I look from it to him, making no attempt to take the drink from his hand. “I didn’t drug it,” he growls. “I don’t believe you.” I lift my chin. He could have very easily slipped something into it since we entered the room. It only takes a second to spike a drink. I know. I’ve seen it done before. He rolls his eyes and throws the one he’s offering me back, proving that it was, in fact, not laced with something. Setting both down on the tray, he walks over to me, closing the distance, and I stiffen. “Why would I drug you?” I swallow nervously but answer honestly. “Makes me compliant. Easier to take advantage of.” Reaching up, he runs his hand through what’s left of my bun, pulling bobby pins loose and letting them drop to the floor at our feet. The long, wet curls fall down across my bare back and over my shoulder, some falling in front to frame my face. “That would be too easy.” He finally speaks, his knuckles brushing it off my shoulder. “I want you to feel me holding you down. I want you to hear yourself gasping for breath when I force you to come. And I want your eyes on mine while I make you cry. I’ll never drug you, Mia, because I don’t need you compliant. You’re now my wife, and I can take whatever I want from you.” My throat closes up while his eyes bore into mine. He’s got it all figured out. I hadn’t realized until just now that he’s had this planned. I thought it was a last-minute thing. Like he just woke up this morning and decided he would crash my wedding and make me his wife. 

But I was wrong. He’s had this plan for quite some time. The Cathedral, the hotel—he’s rubbing it in my father’s face. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to figure out any of this information. It's been in the works for years. My parents and Phil are making a big deal out of this day. “Walter, please…” “You’ll do that too, little darling.” His hand moves to cup my jaw and he lowers his lips to my forehead, brushing them against my skin. Words spoken as soft as the tender kiss and my pulse races at how calm he can be. How well he can hide what he really feels. He hates me and my family. I’m nothing more than an outlet for his revenge. His cell rings, making me jump, and he pulls away to answer it. “Hello? Yes, send him up.” The elevator dings before the door opens, and he turns, giving me his back. I let my shoulders fall while trying to calm my breathing. “Mr. Marshall. Good afternoon, sir,” a man’s voice says. “Who the fuck are you?” Walter growls. “I’m Jackson,” the man answers. “Where the fuck is Gavin?” he snaps. “He got caught up in surgery and asked me to fill in for him.” Walter pauses a second before he speaks. “She’s in here.” They enter the open living room a few seconds later. Walter is holding his cell to his ear, eyes on me. But after a few seconds, he hangs up. “Hello, Mrs. Marshall.”

 The kid gives me a big smile, and my stomach sinks that that’s what I’ll be known as now until the day I die. So easily stripped of my maiden name that once meant something to me. Harlowe is known around the world—wealth and power are just a couple of things. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always hated that my father is a Raven and the life we have to live, but that doesn’t mean I want to be a Marshall either. “This will only take me a second.” He places a briefcase on top of the piano and pops it open, pulling out a couple of packages. He rips one open, revealing a syringe, and the other is a vial full of liquid. “Whoa.” I take a step back. “I thought—” “You’re getting on the shot,” Walter interrupts me, and I look over at him to see he’s now standing at the island in the kitchen, making himself a new drink. “Too many women are irresponsible when it comes to taking the pill, and I refuse to wear a condom when I fuck my wife.” He glares at me, daring me to argue. My cheeks redden at the way he talks to me in front of this stranger in the room, but this is one fight I’ll let him win. The guy inserts the syringe into the vial and pulls back the plunger, filling it with the liquid. Once done, he looks at me. “Turn around and pull up your dress.”

 His eyes drop down to the train, and he frowns. “Walter might have to hold it for me.” I take several steps back away from him, my heels tripping over the silk material, and I fall onto the bench seat at the piano. “Excuse me?” I shriek, wide-eyed. “Turn around—” “You will administer it in her arm,” Walter snaps at the man, and I flinch when I hear him slam the glass down. “Of course.” The man nods, walking over to me. He opens the new alcohol pad before rubbing it on my arm. He lets it dry and then grabs the skin. “Small pinch,” he says and sticks me. I don’t even feel it. 

There are too many other things running through my mind right now. “How long will it take?” I ask, hoping he says days, maybe weeks. It could buy me some time to stay a virgin if Walter refuses to wear protection. “When was your last menstrual cycle?” the guy asks. “Earlier this week,” I answered softly, counting the days in my head. Phil planned our wedding around my cycle. I’ve always been like clockwork. I just recently got off it. He smiles. “You should be good then. As long as it’s five days out from when you started, it should work immediately.” Fuck my luck. “But I also brought some morning after pills that you can take just to be on the safe side. Just remember, they aren’t to be used as a form of birth control. Just last resort. You may experience some bleeding for the next couple of months but that’s nothing to worry about. Make sure to schedule another shot within twelve to thirteen weeks for it to be the most effective.”

 His eyes drop to my chest, and silence fills the large room. My eyes shoot over to Walter in panic. Am I paying? Will he let him fuck me now that I’ve received the shot? Is that another reason he’s putting me on birth control? So other men can’t get me pregnant when he allows them to fuck me? A Raven raising another Raven’s child? Unheard of as far as I know. If it’s not their bloodline, they don’t want it. It’s just another awful thing on a long list that disgusts me about these men.

 Walter was about to take another drink but set it down. Not as hard as last time. “Is there a reason why you’re staring at my wife’s chest?” he demands. I hate that my thighs tighten when he calls me wife. Like it actually means something. As if he will protect me. I could laugh at myself right now if I was alone. Walter Marshall only cares about himself. History proves that. “Oh no.” The guy chuckles. “The blood.” His eyes meet mine. “Do you need stitches?” “She’s fine,” Walter growls before I can say anything. “And your services are no longer needed.” “Just in case.” He removes some Band-Aids from his briefcase and drops them on top of the piano. Like they’re going to do me any fucking good.

 Walter walks him to the elevator, and then he returns. He stands with his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks. His crisp white button-up that once fit him like a glove is now wet, sticking to his skin and showing off his hard chest. My eyes drop to the way his abs flex as he breathes. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off his tanned and muscular forearms. A Rolex watch that I know must have cost him over a hundred grand sits on his wrist. All Ravens wear their crest on a ring while attending Barrington but take it off after graduation. They no longer need it. The brand on their chest is reminder enough of their devotion. My eyes drop to his wedding ring. It’s simple—a silver band. I haven’t gotten a good look at mine. But I feel it. It’s bulky and heavy, weighing me down. I used to think he was hot. I found him attractive when my sister dated him and was jealous of her. I was so stupid. 

An immature little girl who didn’t understand how the world works. I hate that he looks better now than he ever did back then. How is something so stunning so evil? He walks over to me, and with each step he gets closer, the louder my breathing gets. “Stand up and turn around,” he orders. Getting right to it. I stand on shaky legs and turn around to face the piano. I feel him reach up and unzip my dress. My breathing is erratic, my heart hammering in my chest. The room sways as the soft material slides down my body and pools at my feet. Heat covers every inch of my skin. All of a sudden, it’s too hot in here. I tremble when he gently moves my hair to lay over my shoulder before his knuckles touch the top of my spine and slowly run down the curve of my back, making goose bumps rise all over. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, and I close my eyes tightly to keep from crying. I’m trembling. My heels are shaking on the marble floor, and I can feel the sweat beading across my forehead. I feel like I’ve turned my back on my sister. 

Even though I don’t have a choice in the matter, she would still hate me for what’s about to happen. She loved him. He just didn’t love her in return. Not the way she deserved. “Face me,” he softly commands. Taking in a shaky breath, I slowly turn to face him but keep my eyes closed. “Look at me, Mia.” His hand cups my cheek, and I open my watery eyes to meet his. His thumb brushes over my parted lips and I sniff. His eyes drop to my neck and then my chest, following the blood from when he cut me with the dagger at our wedding. Blood is our oath. I had to bleed for him in front of his fucking cult. And I’ll bleed for him now when he rips my innocence away. His knuckles run down my sternum and outline the top of my white strapless bra. Reaching around me, he brushes his lips on my ear while I feel him undo it.

 The material falls to our feet seconds later, making me whimper. When he pulls back, his piercing-blue eyes darken while devouring my breasts. I hate that my nipples are hard. I’ve waited so long for this moment. To become a woman. I wished I could have done it a hundred times with him. Back before he took the one thing that meant everything to me. “I’m going to take it easy on you,” he speaks softly, “because it’s your first time.” “Thank you,” I whisper, hating that he’s going to have so much power over me. That I’m going to have to thank him for everything. I will forever rely on him for food, shelter, fucking survival. Men like Walter don’t allow women to have their own careers or lives, for that matter. They are owned. Ravenias doesn’t need to know who she is. She belongs to her Master, and serving him is all that matters in their lives. His hand grips my chin and lifts my face, so I have to meet his cold stare.

 “It’s still going to hurt, Mia.” My stomach tied in knots, but my pussy pulses. I don’t understand it. Why is my body reacting to him when my mind knows it’s not right?  “And afterward, I won’t give you the courtesy of going easy,” he adds. “Do you understand?” “Y-yes.” My voice wavers, and my feet shift in my heels. He pulls away and gives me his back, ordering, “Go to the bedroom and lie on the bed.”

#henry cavill characters #henry cavill imagine #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #night hunter #henry cavill x you

[mary-ann84]

Patch For The Heart

Ok so it has been a while since I posted a fic. Due to circumstances. But here it is chapter 5.

If you want to catch up. Here are the other for chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I hope you enjoy this one

As always feedback, likes and reblogs are appreciated

*******************************************************

Characters: Walter Marshall x Female reader

Words: 2.571

Warnings: some smut

Author’s note: This story is inspired by the movie ‘Night Hunter’. I do not own any of the characters in this story besides the reader, who is a figment of my imagination. 

Chapter 5. Meetings

You woke up by the sound of your phone and groaned. 

When you answered you heard a familiar voice. It was your best friend Sarah who worked at the hospital just like you, but as a psychiatrist. 

“Hello sunshine, how are you?” She said in a chirpy voice. 

“Barely awake.” You said and yawned. 

“How can I help you?"

“Well I just wanted to let you know that I met Evie this morning. She slept well thanks to the medication you got her on. She is doing well all things considered and she wanted to talk to you. Can I put her on?”

“Sure Sarah put her on.”

“Hi, y/n”. You heard Evie’s small voice through the phone. She sounded better but still a bit scared. 

“Hi Evie, how are you? Sara told me that you slept well.”

“Yeah I slept pretty well.Sarah told me that she was going to help me. She is really nice. It’s just.”

Evie hesitated, which made you sit up, a bit alarmed you asked her. 

“Just what sweetie? It’s ok. You can tell me.” 

“Well why can’t you help me? Like you did last night?”

"Evie I helped with the wounds on your body. But I can't help you with your emotional and mental ones, that have been caused by whoever did this. Physically you are healing well. But a healthy mind is just as or even more important. Sarah will keep me posted. Don't worry. I won't forget about you."

Evie sighed. And when she told you she understood you heard the disappointment in her voice. But the fact that Sarah was your best friend made her feel better. 

"I am glad to hear that sweetie. Listen, I'll try to stop by later today for a quick visit. Could you put Sara back on?" 

When Sara had the phone you heard her tell Evie she would step out of the room. And then she mentioned she had some news. 

"I was in the process of arranging a room for when we got a call."

"Call? What call? You asked her.

"Her parents called. They saw her picture on the news and they called the hospital.

"Are you sure that they are her parents? And if they are, do they know what happened to her? And that she needs extensive therapy?" 

You were happy and worried at the same time. It would be great that her parents were here. Evie needed all the love and support she could get, but you wondered if her parents were able to handle this. 

"Relax y/n, they checked out.  I have talked to them and explained what happened. They, along with Evie, will get therapy, because they also have suffered trauma."

"When are you going to let them see her?"

"They will get here late in the afternoon, because they live out of town. Oh and Y\N, they want to talk to you.” 

"So I have to be here when they get here. I get it." You said.

You told Sarah you would be there and asked if she could call you when she knew the exact time that Evie's parents were there. You also mentioned that Rachel had asked if you could stop by the precinct to talk about Evie and the other girls that had fallen victim to 'The Nursery Rhyme Killer'. 

"There is one thing I wanted to ask you Sarah about this."

"What is it?" she said

"You think that the man who did this could be a surgeon? Because the words that were cut into Evie's skin were done with such precision that it has to be done by someone who does this on a regular basis"

"This is most likely the case. Maybe you should mention this when you talk to Rachel. I have to go now and check on Evie. I will see you later."

You said your goodbyes and got out of bed. 

Dove into your closet to find some clothes before you headed to the bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped underneath the spray. 

The hot water cascaded over your body and you closed your eyes as you washed your hair. 

You thought of Walter and imagined it was him who washed your hair. That it were his big hands with those long thick fingers that touched your body. 

You could have sworn you felt his rock hard chest against your back. His breath against your ear, his hands carressing your naked shoulders.

Your body tingled all over,  a rush of arousal coursed through your veins as you lowered your hand to touch yourself. It almost felt like it was his hand that was touching you.  His fingers sliding through your folds. 

You found your clit and started rubbing it. The sounds of your moans filled the bathroom and you pretended how his sounds of ecstasy would join yours into a symphony of desire and pleasure. 

Your fingers worked faster, increasing the pressure on your clit. 

You moaned

"Fuck, yes, Walter. Faster, harder. I'm so close. Make me cum."

And with that, you came, hard and intense. It was a good thing that you stood against the showerwall, otherwise you were sure you would have fallen down. You never had such an orgasm whenever you pleasured yourself. And wondered what it would be like when you and Walter would get together. 

With that thought and a smile on your face you turned off the shower, dried yourself off and got dressed. 

You made yourself a quick bite to eat and found a way to get to the precinct.

When you got there you headed over to the front desk and mentioned that Rachel wanted to see you. 

The lady at the front desk took you to her office so you could wait for her there. It had a window which  gave you the perfect opportunity to gaze into the general area. 

While you observed your surroundings the door to the precinct opened and there you saw him… Walter. His eyes locked with yours right away. And you smiled at each other.

Right that moment Rachel walked in

“Hi, y/n. Thank you for coming down. How are you?” She asked. 

“I am fine, thanks.” you said, still somewhat distracted by the sight of Walter.

Rachel followed your gaze and she smiled.  She had already noticed that you and Walter had a connection from the very beginning and she wondered how long it would take the both of you to realize that you had feelings for eachother.

“Walter will be joining us shortly. But I thought we could get a headstart.”

You nodded and then she started to tell everything about the person that was now known as  ‘The Nursery Rhyme Killer’. How they had been so close to capturing them but everytime they had managed to get away. 

No witnesses and no leads. That was until yesterday when one of the victims managed to get away and ended up in your hospital. 

By the time Rachel told you everything and showed you the pictures that the coroner had taken Walter joined you. 

“ Y/n.” he said with a little nod and a small smile on his face.

“Hi Walter.” 

“Walter, thank you for joining us. I was just about to show y/n the coroner's pictures of the other victims.”

Walter nodded again, took a seat next to you and Rachel continued. 

To say you were a little distracted was an understatement. With Walter sitting next to you, you could feel the heat coming off him even better, your arms almost touched. 

That was until Rachel showed you the pictures of the backs of the victims. Each of them is carved with a verse of a nursery rhyme. All of them done with such precision as the one on Evies back. And that was when you remembered your conversation with Sarah. 

And you asked: 

“Have you thought about the fact that whoever has done this, might be someone who has experience? You know like a surgeon perhaps? Or a retired one?”

Rachel and Walter looked at eachother.

“What makes you say that?” Walter asked

You then told them about your phone call with Sarah and how last night you noticed that when you took care of Evies wounds, the words on her back were carved so precisely that the idea of this being done by a surgeon got stuck in your head. 

Again Rachel and Walter shared a look and this time you could tell that they had thought of the same thing.

“Ok, spill it. Because judging by that look I can tell that you know something.” 

“You are right. It is a surgeon or retired one. When the body of the last victim was found the person in question left a surgical knife and a serinche. No fingerprints on both of them.” Walter told you calmly. 

“Ok, so what now? This person is still out there. Are Evie and her parents going to get protection?” 

“Parents?” Rachel asked 

“ Yes, Evie's parents called the hospital, they recognized her from the pictures. Don’t worry it has been thoroughly checked and they are her real parents. They are meeting her this afternoon and I am supposed to be there as well.” 

“You think we can have a chance to talk to them before they see Evie? And ask them some questions?” you looked at Rachel when she asked you and frowned. 

“I guess you can, but I will have to check. Let me call Sarah.”

You took out your phone and as luck would have it you were able to talk to Sarah right away. As it turned out Evie's parents were going to meet the head of the hospital before they were going to see their daughter and that would be a good time for Rachel or Walter to have a word with them. 

“It’s settled then, you are able to speak to them this afternoon. But please take it easy on them. Their daughter has been found after all this time, so they probably won’t have all the answers. So let them tell their story and if there is anything else you want to know, ask them on a later day. When they had time to calm down and settle down.”

Both Rachel and Walter nodded. 

By the time you had finished the conversation it had been decided that Walter would talk to the parents.

You and Walter stepped out of Rachel's office. 

Walter looked at you and said: 

“Since we both need to be at the hospital, I could give you a ride.”

“That would be great.”You said.

“But it’s going to be a while before the parents are at the hospital, what do we do in the meantime?”

Walter smiled with a little sparkle in his eyes. 

“We could get a cup of coffee and something to eat ? That is if you want to.”

In your head you were ecstatic. And you had to keep yourself calm, because you thought that if you would seem too eager, that he would be put off by that. 

But you could not contain the smile that broke out when you said that you would love to. 

Walter mirrored that smile when he heard your answer

Butjust before you were about to head out, the doors of the precinct opened and in walks a young lady that stopped right in front of the both of you. 

Walter was the first one to speak. 

“Faye?” he said. 

“Aren’t you a little early? I thought you were coming over later?”

“Yes.” Faye replied. But school finished early today so I had mom drop me off here.”

Faye then turned to you and looked back at her father with raised brows as if she asked him who you were. 

‘’ Eeehm, Faye. Walter said hesitantly. This is Y/N. Y/n this is my daughter Faye.”

As soon as she heard your name her face lit up and she shook your hand. 

“Hi, so nice to meet you. Dad told me about you.”

Walter’s eyes shot up. The look on his face was priceless. And you giggled. 

“Oh he did, did he? Well what did he say?”

Much to Walter’s relief she just said that he had told her about how you slipped on a patch of ice and that after that you met again at the hospital. 

While Faye spoke you couldn’t help but think that she looked a lot like Evie. And now you  understood why Walter looked so sad the other night in the hospital.

Before Faye could say anything else Walter interrupted her. 

“Listen Faye, Y/N and I were just about to head out to grab a bite to eat and then to go to the hospital. There has been a new development.”

“But can’t I come with you?” I won’t get in the way. "I promise."

Faye looked at the both of you with pleading eyes. 

“Faye, I don't know if that is a good idea.” Walter started. 

That was the moment where you stepped in. 

“Actually Walter. I think Fyae may be able to help us out here. After all, I think a certain young lady would like the company of someone who is close to her age while you and I address the new development.”

Walter was a bit hesitant but finally agreed that it would be a good idea.

The three of you stepped into his car and drove to the coffee shop where you two first met. 

Faye chose a place to sit and you placed your order. 

While Walter went to the mens room Faye and you talked. 

You then realized that you hadn’t really asked Faye if she even wanted to help out so just to be sure you asked her. 

“Yes, I would love to help. But what should I do or say? I don’t know anything about this girl.” Faye replied. She looked a bit worried

You decided to let her know a few details about Evie. skipping the gory details of course. 

“Just be yourself Faye. But let her come to you. Like I said, she has been through a lot.”

Walter had come back from the mens room and had sat down next to you. He listened to the conversation you were having. 

For some reason he was glad Faye could help and kind of proud of her as well. 

He just observed the two of you talking, eating and drinking. And realized that he could get used to this. The fact that this felt so normal gave him butterflies. What also scared him a little because he hadn’t felt like this for a long time. 

You caught him staring and you could have sworn you saw a blush appear on his cheeks.

At the same glance you could see on the clock that you had to leave and that is what you said. 

Walter paid for lunch and held open the door for you and Faye which he also did when you got into the car. 

Faye looked at him and winked and mouthed the words smooth dad. 

Walter shook his head and smiled. He then got into the car himself and drove off to the hospital. Maybe just maybe with talking to Evie’s parents he could get closer in catching “The Nursery Rhyme Killer”. 

@littlefreya @wendimydarling @hell1129-blog @b-n-a-o @cheyentjj @yespolkadotkitty @yoursecretsmutblog @obsessedwithcavill @penwieldingdreamer @peakygroupie @viking-raider @brexrif @sciapod @oddsnendsfanfics @la-vie-en-diva @thethirstyarchive @constip8merm8 @henrysrighteyebrow @chamomilebottom @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @meowpurrbooks @jolly-polly @auguswalker @allememaggies @mayastormborn @princess-of-riviaa @ellixthea @demivampirew @deathonyourtongue @dearlybelovedluke @luclittlepond @captainsy-cookiemonster @zealoushound @oh-for-fic-sake @sillyrabbit81 @pussyverson @angryschnauzer @the-soot-sprite @mariestark @foodieforthoughts @thelastsock @llamadelreyx @infinite-shite @shellbilee @agniavateira @luna-aestas @sissyfanfiction @lauofrivia @lifeofrileyp

#walter marshall x reader #patch for the heart #chapter 5 #henry cavill

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Walter’s presence grows routine, even if it still feels peculiar. Before, you saw him now and again when he dropped in to see your dad. He never seemed very social and that sense hasn’t changed. He comes, does his work, and politely accepts his dinner.

That day, a week since your father’s homecoming, you’re due to drive into town. You need to stop by the pharmacy for your mom and pick up a few staples from the grocer. You’re excited to get out, to distance yourself just for an hour or two from the sombre farmhouse.

You grab your purse, a wicker bag with a ribbon tied on the handle, and put a hat on to block out the beaming sunlight. The birds tweet in greeting as you fold your mother’s list into your pocket and head for the garage. The door is open already. Timothy always forgets to close it.

You jingle the keys and climb up into the old truck. You don’t drive it often, mostly traveling to town with your parents or brother. You prefer to walk most places, even if it is a bit far.

You put your bag on the passenger seat and turn the keys in the ignition. The engine putters then a loud bag makes you yelp. A plume of black smoke erupts from the slits on the hood of the truck and a rackety clunking churns in the motor. You let go of the key as you sit dumbfounded and watch the cloud grow.

You hear footsteps and suddenly the driver’s door swings open. You’re pulled out before you can react, put onto your feet and ushered back into the spring hue. You cough as you get a mouthful of smoke and turn to face the garage, Walter’s hand lingering on your back.

“Timothy,” he growls before he marches forward, “told that kid he was gonna start a fire.”

“I…”

“What’s going on?” Your brother dashes up as if he heard his name, “woah, holy cow.”

“What did you do?” Walter accuses.

“What? I fixed it,” Timothy shrugs.

“Damnit,” Walter growls and paces back and forth. “You’re lucky it didn’t catch fire,” he turns on your brother, “you’re lucky your sister didn’t get hurt.”

“Huh? What?” Timothy shakes his head, “I didn’t–”

“She was in there,” Walter’s voice rises tremulously.

“I’m okay,” you pipe up, “it’s fine, I just… can you fix it?”

Walter stops and faces you. His brow twitches in anger and he crosses his thick arms. He peeks over his shoulder then back at you.

“Not any time soon.”

“I can fix it.”

“Don’t touch it,” Walter snarls, “you leave better off alone.”

“Jeez, dad, calm down,” Timothy snipes dryly. He gets a dark glare in return and flinches visibly, “sorry, I–”

“Shouldn’t be joking about that,” Walter girds and pivots his attention back to you, “where were you going?”

“Just to town. I was gonna get some stuff from the store,” you explain.

“I’ll drive you,” Walter insists.

“Oh, uh, that’s fine. I can call Mr. Howland–”

“Don’t bother,” Walter waves you off, “running low on manure around here.”

“Oh,” you chew your lip, “right. Well, thanks, I’ll just grab my purse–”

You take a step towards the garage and Walter quickly blocks your path, “I’ll get it. You shouldn’t breathe that stuff in.”

You step back and nod. Walter rolls his shoulders and narrows his eyes at Timothy as he spins, “get back to planting. No time to waste.”

Walter stalks into the thinning smoke and you blink at your brother. He mopes and throws his hands up as he looks at you, “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, Tim,” you say, “better just get it done.”

“God, he’s a grumpy gus, isn’t he,” Timothy rolls his eyes, “sorry, sis.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “just go.”

“Hey,” he stops himself before he goes, “can you grab me smokes?”

“No,” Walter answers as he emerges, holding out your purse, “come on, better head out.”

Timothy huffs and tramps away. You take your purse from Walter with a sheepish smile. His anger makes you nervous. You’ve never seen him anything less than stoic. You follow him to his truck, parked just in front of the house and he opens the passenger door ahead of you.

The porch door swings open and shut. Before you can climb up into the truck, you mom rushes out, “everything okay?”

“Just some car troubles,” Walter calls back, “nothing I can’t fix.”

“Right, oh,” she looks over at the wisps escaping the garage, “fire?”

“Just smoke,” Walter returns, “I’m gonna take her to town, I’ll have a proper look when I get back.”

“I can call Vol,” your mother offers.

He grumbles and offers his hand. You let him help you up into the truck, the lift even higher than your dad’s. He waits for you to settle in before he shuts the door.

“All good, Maddie,” he shows his palm, “won’t be long at all.”

“Thank you, Walter,” your mother preens, “you’re too good to us.”

He nods and goes around the front of the truck. He hops in the driver’s seat with no effort at all and shuts the door. He buckles his seat belt, glancing over at you and you do the same. You clutch your purse and swing your feet over the floor.

“You alright?” He asks as he starts the engine and shifts.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Must’ve been scary,” he comments.

“Just a bit of a surprise,” you chirp, “but I’m okay. Er, thanks for… for saving me.”

“Saving you?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I didn't really know what to do,” you laugh at yourself, “I'd still be sitting there staring like a deer.”

“Hmph,” the noise is close to a chuckle.

“What are we getting in town?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, pharmacy first,” you answer, “then I wanted to see if the market's selling honeydew.”

He hums and backs out. You hold onto the door as the truck rolls over the bumpy ground. It's not what you planned but it's still a break.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #backwoods au #au #series #night hunter #the farmer's daughter

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 8

Chapter 8: I Was So Much Younger Yesterday

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC

Word count: 3K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: It’s time to celebrate Faye’s 16th birthday. Also, Walter works out a way for Kam to practice expressing her needs. 

Chapter warnings: crying, Daddy kink(if you don’t like this, turn back now because damn), slight dumbification kink, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, creampie, creampie tasting, the term ‘cumslut’ used lovingly

A/N: New Story Art! *cheering and applause* Now, it’s time to get to serious business. Um, I like Angie. And I wrote her like I see her. Also, this chapter gets quite kinky so heed those warnings, please. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits

Cross-posted on AO3

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Kamaria’s POV

Three Months Later

“...Happy Birthday dear Faye, Happy Birthday to You!”

We all cheer as Faye blows out her sixteen candles. Her parents stand by and film their child celebrating with her friends. Angie starts to cut the cake and gives Walter slices to hand out. They work so well together. You’d never know they went through such a rough separation.

Sweet Faye with her curls and her chubby cheeks, looking for all the world like the baby she was. Her purple cocktail dress matches the flower in her hair that I helped her with. 

It was nice to feel like a part of the team, working with Walter and Angie on organizing the party for Faye. But, let’s face it, it was mostly me and Angie doing the planning and Walter nodding along. Angie and I got along well enough, I think she just appreciated that I cared about Faye and that meant more than anything.

Angie says goodbye to the last guests leaving while I finish tidying up Faye’s gift haul. She dozes on the couch curled up on Walter who is snoozing as well. Angie moves a blanket over both of them and comes to help me clear away dishes and any lingering trash.

“I have to thank you for helping out with Faye earlier. She’s in that stage where everything I say is just not ‘cool’ enough,” Angie wipes her hands on a dish towel and looks from Faye’s sleeping form to me, “I remember this time in my life where my little girl valued my opinion above all else. And now it’s like she chooses the exact opposite of what I suggest.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll realize one day that she is so lucky to have a mother who actually wanted her,” I squeeze my eyes closed, deciding to open this old wound, “My mom never wanted to be a mother and she made that abundantly clear by leaving me and my Dad when I was a kid. He was never emotionally available so I had some interesting times in life, to say the least. But, just know that I’m sure she’ll come around. It may be in a year or two, but for now, you have a Daddy’s girl on your hands.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. 

I don’t notice Angie coming to my side until she puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Having a loving mother next to me offering me comfort is suddenly too much to handle and my eyes start to blur from unshed tears. I begin to protest my emotional reaction but then Angie speaks.

“It doesn’t make you weak to cry when you’re upset.” 

Her hushed words are like a soothing balm on a decades-old burn. One shaky breath is all I take before the tears are streaming down my face. Angie’s face crumbles as well and she wraps her arms around me. I realize that it has been a long time since I’ve had a “Mom hug” and I cling to that warmth as I quietly weep. 

When my sobs turn into sniffles, Angie rubs my back in calming circles. We separate and she cups my cheek in a display of affection. I nod and smile in appreciation before taking a deep breath to collect myself.

Walter and Faye pick this moment to finally wake up. Thank goodness for small favors, they missed my little moment. I wipe my eyes and face quickly before smiling at my boyfriend and his daughter. While Faye is none the wiser, I can see the gears working behind Walter’s eyes. He can always see right through me, but he won’t make his suspicions known until we’re alone. Something I truly love about him, he is not a scene-maker.

I walk over to Faye and give her a big hug before sitting down next to Walter and holding his hand. “How did we do on your big day, sweetheart? I’ll take you falling asleep as you had quite a time.”

“It was perfect. It was everything I wanted. Thanks, Mom and Dad. Thank you, Kam.” The grin never left her sweet face. It is all worth it to see her happiness. 

“You’re welcome, love,” Walter cupped Faye’s face and she beamed back at him. Truly a Daddy’s girl.

“Alright, birthday girl. You are welcome to stay up as long as you like. Just for tonight, that is,” Angie walks over to us and kisses the top of Faye’s head before smiling at Walter and me, “I am going to bed. Thank you both for your help today. Goodnight.” She pats my shoulder before heading upstairs.

If Walter notices our non-verbal exchange, he doesn’t mention it.

“Alright, girlfriend. Who was that adorable kid with the curls? He was cute.” I can’t help but make Faye blush and make Walter roll his eyes. It’s like my talent. 

“That was Albert. He’s in my English class. He likes Federico García Lorca and Mission: Impossible movies. That’s all I needed to know.”

“Which means he either knows enough to seem intelligent or enough to actually be intelligent,” I smile and yawn before stretching.

“On that note, I think it’s time for us to get home and for you to get to bed.” Walter ends the conversation without adding his two cents about this Albert kid. Faye gets the hint and follows suit.

“Yeah, I’m tired anyway. Thanks again, you guys.” Faye yawns sympathetically.

Walter and I leave after hugs and final birthday wishes. On the car ride back to his place, Walter decides to bring up his worries. 

“So, did something happen while Faye and I were out?” He broaches the topic carefully.

“Angie was feeling a bit left out of her daughter’s life. I simply told her that she has a Daddy’s girl on her hands.” I smile at the side of Walter’s face and look back at the road.

Walter surprises me by pulling the car over and turning to face me. “You want to try that again, Princess?” The pet name is enough to put my brain in gear and answer fully.

“I told Angie about how my Mom never wanted me. And then I cried. A lot.” I hated how he was so good at getting me to say what I didn’t want to say. But I had to respect his abilities.

“Why do I always have to work so hard at getting the truth out of you, Princess?” He reaches over to hold my chin between his thumb and forefinger, “You’ll work on that tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy. I understand.” Suddenly out of breath, I slip into subspace with ease.

Walter’s POV

I love this woman, I do. But there is nothing harder than getting her to face her emotions. Getting her to tell me when she’s dealing with sadness or anxiety is like pulling teeth. I have literally been in the line of fire before. But getting her to admit when she has cried is harder than any S.W.A.T. mission I have ever been on.

We get back to my place and after her shower, I instruct her to stay undressed. I have her sit on the bed against the headboard. While I undress, I deny her the ability to touch herself. I watch her squirm while I slowly remove my last piece of clothing.

My dick throbs between my legs as I lock eyes with her. She licks her lips and fights the urge to reach out and touch. I settle on her punishment and a little piece of me actually feels sorry for her. This one might wreck her.

“Since it’s so hard for you to be honest about your feelings, we’re going to work on that tonight. You have to express when you have needs. All you have to do is tell me what you need when you need it. You must use your words, Princess. Is that clear?” I cross my arms and look down at her.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” I smile as the praise washes over her, “How do you feel about restraints, baby?”

She shifts on the bed a bit and plays with her hands. “I like being restrained.”

“Good,” I reach into my nightstand and pull out a silk sash before beckoning her to sit at the edge of the bed, “Put your hands together for me, palm to palm,” She does as she’s told and I tie her hands together. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

“Feels fine,” She scrunches up her nose and looks up at me, “I won’t be able to touch you, though.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the point, Princess,” I push lightly on her shoulder so she lays down flat and her hands stretch above her head, “Just lie back and let me work. And you tell me when you need more or less, alright?”

She nods and I raise my eyebrows. “Yes, I’ll tell you what I need.”

“Good girl.” I lean down and capture her lips in my own. I poke at the seam of her mouth until she lets me enter. I lick into her mouth, tasting and sucking on her tongue. Moving my kisses to her jaw then to her neck, I suck and bite at her sweet spot until she lets out that precious little moan of hers.

Trailing my tongue across her clavicle, I kiss down her chest and lavish attention on her breasts. These perfect fucking tits I love so much. I kiss both nipples and knead the soft flesh but don’t go any further until I hear a whine. “Use your words, Princess. What do you need?”

“Your tongue…can you suck on my nipples, please?” Her breathing speeds up.

“That’s my good girl.” I swirl my tongue around one nipple while running my thumb over the other. I suck the pebbled peak into my mouth and tease it with my tongue. Suckling at her for a few moments more, I switch to the other side to give just as much attention. I feel her thighs rubbing together in search of friction, so I kiss down her soft belly, stopping to nip at her hips. 

Pulling her legs apart, I can finally see my prize. I want to dive right in, but this is an exercise to have Kamaria tell me what she needs so instead I kiss at her inner thighs for far longer than I normally would have to prove a point.

“Daddy, please eat my pussy.” She pleads, moving her hips closer to my face. Such a good girl for me, and I tell her as much before I kiss her mound and then slide my tongue up and down her wet slit.

“Fuck! You taste amazing, Princess.” My hands grip her thighs tight before I begin to lap at her like a man starved. Her sweet nectar is more than enough to satisfy me and I want to drink her in and never look back. Her whimpers only make me work that much harder. Sucking on her clit, I let my tongue dance against the swollen bud and am rewarded with a squeal. 

“Need your fingers, please.” Such a polite little thing, isn’t she?

“Yes, baby.” I reward her good manners with two fingers straightaway. She’s soaked and they slide in easily. We both groan and I massage that inner bundle of nerves before returning my attention to her clit. I flick my tongue on her button before working my fingers in and out of her core.

“Just like that, don’t stop!” Her words go straight to my dick and I curve my fingers. Before long, I can feel her channel clamp down on my fingers but I keep working at her as her juices coat my hand.

“Too much, too sensitive!” She cries, her body shaking under me. I lift off her clit and still my fingers before licking them clean and wiping them on the comforter.

“You did so good, Princess,” I kiss up her body and nibble at her neck, “But I’m not done with you yet, baby.” I get up from my spot between her legs and move her to the center of the bed. Maneuvering her on her side, I slide up behind her and lift her leg. I enter her swiftly and we moan in tandem.

I pull back out until just the tip is inside then I slam back in. Gripping her hip, I start a punishing pace inside her walls. The way her cunt squeezes me is like paradise. She was made to take my dick. I was made to claim her pussy.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” All she can utter is a string of curses and I feel triumphant that I fucked language right out of her brain.

“That’s right, Princess. Let this dick fuck you stupid, baby,” No sooner do I finish that sentence do I feel her walls flutter around me, “Oh does my baby like being fucked dumb on Daddy’s dick?” The answering whine tells me all I need to know. Adding ‘dumbification’ to the list of kinks my baby girl has.

Pulling out and moving Kam onto her back, I get to my knees and push her legs open, Entering her again, I reach up and hold her bound hands in one fist. From this angle, I can slam into her and stimulate her clit at the same time.

“Need to…touch you. Please…Daddy?” Her words are punctuated by thrusts, the look of yearning in her eyes.

I pull the knot free on the sash. Her hands immediately go to my hair to tug me down for a kiss. I can taste her desire and hunger for closeness. I growl into her mouth and she whimpers back. Her legs wrap around my waist and pull me in deeper. We pull apart from the kiss and rest our foreheads together.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” At this point, I am panting. So close to release. I just need to hear her say she needs it.

“Look at me while you cum inside me, Daddy,” This little brat actually smiles up at me as she shatters me.

“Fuck!” The dam breaks and my hold on reality fucks all the way off. My eyes search hers while I empty my balls into her waiting cunt. I keep stroking inside her and the sensation is heightened once I feel her come around me. She could gonna be the death of me, and I’d love every minute of it.

I lean down and slot our mouths together as I pull out. I swallow her whimper at the feeling of emptiness before I look down to see her thoroughly ruined snatch. My cum still leaks out and I can’t help but feel proud to see her so full. I smile down at her before getting up from the bed.

I clean up a bit in the bathroom before fetching a damp washcloth. Entering the room again, I find Kam lazily playing with herself. “Enjoying yourself, Princess?” I reach down and clean her gently.

“I love how sensitive I am right now. It feels so good.” Her eyes roll back in her head as my hand moves over her folds.

“Do you think you can give me one more orgasm, Princess?” I know I might be pushing it, but seeing her so aroused is making it worth asking.

“Yes, please, Daddy. I wanna cum again for you.” 

That was all I needed to hear before I’m between her legs again. I lean down to lap at her slit. Tasting my spend and her juices mixed together is heavenly. Can’t believe I’ve never done this before. By the surprised moans coming from Kam, I’d say she was enjoying this as well. 

After making out with her pussy for a while, my fingers find their way inside her tight wet heat. Curving my fingers as I move them in and out, I’m rewarded soon after with a strangled moan and her walls fluttering around my fingers. I wait until the convulsing stops to remove my fingers. A dirty thought enters my head and I run with it.

“Open your mouth, Princess,” As she follows direction, I lock eyes with her as I put my slick-coated fingers in her mouth until they disappear, “Such a good girl for me. Sucking our cum off my fingers like the hungry little cumslut you are.”

She moans around my fingers and if I didn’t literally just cum a liter, I’d be balls-deep in her again. When I remove my fingers from her mouth, she actually whines in protest. I can’t help but kiss that adorable pout before grabbing the washcloth again to wipe away the evidence of her arousal.

I throw the cloth in the hamper and lay down next to my love. I check her wrists to make sure the sash didn’t dig in too deep before kissing her forehead. “How’s my baby feeling?”

“I feel amazing. Spectacular,” She stretches and cuddles into my chest as I wrap an arm around her, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“I’m right there with you. I probably fried a few brain cells but it was so worth it,” I hold her chin and bring her gaze up, “I’m also proud of you for saying what you needed. Now, we just have to get you to do that out of the bedroom.”

“Practice makes perfect, right?” There’s my little brat.

“Cheeky. But not wrong. We’ll work on it together, yeah?” I say, pulling the comforter over both of us as Kam’s eyes start to close, “Love you, Princess.”

“Mhm,” Her short answer lets me know that she is absolutely fucked out and I’m chuffed, “Love you, Daddy.”

Her fingers work their way through my chest hair, something I’ve noticed as a comfort activity for her. If I was a cat, I’d be purring every time she does it. But if she ever found out how much I liked it, she’d probably use it against me somehow. Little minx.

I listen as her breathing evens out and I’m not far behind. I can safely say today was a good day. Nothing can ruin this feeling.

Can it?

Chapter 9

A/N: Ehehehe, that ending sounded menacing at all, did it…? Well, anyway. This chapter’s song was “Starving” by Hailee Steinfeld & Grey. “Starving” is about a relationship that’s getting more adventurous in and outside of the bedroom. I really enjoy writing in Walter’s POV, especially the kinky stuff. Hopefully, you enjoyed it too. 

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries 

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x black!plus size female #walter marshall x black!plus size female oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x black!ofc #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #bright like the moon

[adriennebarnes]

Masterlist

Requests are OPEN

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

One Shots

Prince of Ferrari

Can You Be My Boyfriend?

Walter Marshall x Hispanic! Reader

Don Refri

Don Refri

The Start of it All

We’re Just Friends

The First Date

One shots

On the Job

Prison for Life Part 2

Grovel

Henry Cavill x Hispanic! Reader

One shot

Hips Don’t Lie Part 2

Cachetona

Drabble

Little bit of food

Mike (Winchester) Hellraiser x Hispanic! Reader

One shot

Daydreams

Xavier Thorpe x Hispanic!Reader

Red means smut

One-shots

Dirty Little Secret

Parents Day

Meet Cute

Once Upon A Dream

I Can’t Say I’m In Love

The Other Woman

Teach Me Tonight

Traitor

Boyfriend

Too Clingy

A-Tisket, A-Tasket

Snuffles

Safe Word

Paddington Bear

Happier

I Love You

TikTok/Prank Mini series

There’s A Frog In My Hand

Say It Back

Government Name

Xavier’s Revenge

Couple Tag

Xavier Thorpe x Reader

The Way I Loved You

It’s an Addams Family Reunion

Wendigo

Ajax Petropolus x Hispanic!Reader

One-Shots/Imagines

Quinceañera

High Achiever, Don’t You See?

A Cute Distraction

Care Bear

Fighting

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope imagine #hispanic reader #hispanic #latina #latinx #masterpost #masterlist #ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus x reader #georgie farmer #henry cavill x reader #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fic #walter marshall #walter marshall x you #henry cavill

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part One Summary: After her parents death, Lori is back at the club she grew up in and finds herself being sent away with an attractive but completely unknown biker.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3.3k

Warnings:

Series Warnings:

Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part One Warnings:

Mention of death, drug use, violence, body fluids, slight angst, blink and you'll miss it implication of smut.

Authors Note: I've been working on this story for about nine months, maybe more? I keep thinking I'm going to forget about it, but it keeps worming its way back into my brain and the only way to purge it is to write it and post it, so I woke up this morning and decided fuck it, post it.

I have a heap of people to thank for discussing the story with me and for beta reading. Because it's been such a long process, if I have forgotten you, I sincerely apologise. So thanks a million to @amberangel112 @henryobsessed @littlefreya @nashibirne

I hope you enjoy it!

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Two

Lori

When I noticed the gathering started winding down and some of the out of state clubs began to leave, I was able to breathe a little easier for the first time in two weeks.

Although I thought it unlikely that the uneasy truce of a wake would be disturbed by anything more than a punch up, I still worried about it and the subsequent attention of the media and the cops. I had hopes that my face wouldn't be plastered all over the news, but it seemed a little unlikely given the scrutiny that the funeral had been under. I was under no illusions that my brother would escape unscathed.

Thinking of my brother made me glance at Nate. 

I sighed; It was a good thing the media weren’t here now, and the cops were too chicken shit to try and breach the walls of the compound.

With a rolled-up $50 note up his nose and two women hanging off him, Nate was the epitome of the biker stereotype. His dirty blonde hair hung to his shoulders, his face was hardened and scarred, making him seem older than his thirty years, as did the tattooed cursive on his forehead just beneath his hairline. 

Nate took his hit, throwing his head back and wiping at his nose. He grinned as he sniffed and handed the note to one of the girls. I could hear his snort across the room and above the thrumming beat of the dance music; his nostrils must be fucked. 

From what I knew, he’d been like this for days, and although normally he tried to hide the extent of his drug habit from me, the fact he was openly high and allowing one of the girls to rub his crotch showed how far gone he was.

I’d like to think his behaviour was a one off, that it was his way of dealing with Mum and Dad's death. But I doubted it.

So much had changed since I last spent any time at the clubhouse to the point where it was almost unrecognisable. The common room used to be homey despite being in an industrial building; carpeted with soft sofas, plush rugs and sturdy wooden coffee tables. Now it was like a nightclub, complete with stripper poles, black and red leather sofas, smoky glass topped tables, and neon lights.

I hated it.

Crossing my legs, I started to get angry. I used to love coming here when Dad was President, seeing all my uncles and their families. Even memories of the sweets and sodas the guys used to sneak me behind my mother’s back wasn’t enough to calm my mood. Thoughts of the last few times I was here were too vivid. Seeing what my father and brother had become and the way my uncles had stopped seeing me as a little girl made me stop coming here about five years ago. It was also about the time Mum had finally decided to divorce Dad.

I’d had enough, seen enough. Nate didn’t even appear to be on planet earth anymore; he won’t notice if I slip out. I’ll just go home, have a long bath, maybe call Jake and invite him over.

As stealthily as I could, I got my bag and nearly made it to the small cut out of the closed roller door when a Prospect laid a hand roughly on my wrist. His fingers dug into my skin painfully and he pulled my arm with a short jerk, bringing me closer, until my body bumped into his.

“Hooks wants a word,” he said, all smug and grinning as if this idiot knew what Nate would want with me. 

I didn’t know him, but I knew a million like him, and he thinks he knows me. He thinks I’m just another girl, one of the desperate groupies who hang around hoping to tame a wild biker or use them for drugs or clout. He obviously didn’t know Nate was my brother, or he’d never lay a hand on me.

Looking down at my wrist, I smirked before raising my eyes, letting as much of my anger seep through as I dared. I may have been out of the life for years, but I still knew how to play the game.

“I suggest you remove your hand, Prospect before…”

I didn’t get to finish my warning as a fist smashed into the boy’s face. His nose made a sickening crunch followed by a crimson spray of blood which splattered on the floor barely missing my heels.

The fist belonged to Hustle who was grinning like a Cheshire cat at the chance to expel some pent up aggression. He was Nate’s Sergeant at Arms, his enforcer, and my father’s before that. He loved a bit of a fight, but he wasn’t crazy, his violence was usually held on a tight leash.

“Fuck off, pup,” he growled. His eyes danced, obviously not 100% sober, but it was alcohol rather than drugs that Hustle preferred.

The Prospect held his nose and his tongue, but the fiery hatred that burned in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.

“Hooks wants her,” he managed to say, spitting blood onto the concrete floor.

“I’ll take her to her brother,” Hustle said, amused at the way the Prospect's face went white and his eyes widened. Hustle chuckled as the Prospect mumbled apologies to me and scampered away.

“Think he’ll make it?” I asked Hustle when he turned back to me. 

Hustle shrugged, it wasn’t really his decision to make but being a senior member of the club, his opinion had weight. 

“Takes a punch like a champ, that’s a good sign.” Then he smiled at me, “You alright, Babycakes?”

I mirrored his smile, I couldn’t help it; until two weeks ago no one had called me Babycakes in years. I had almost forgotten the nickname until I was suddenly and violently thrust back into this world. 

The name had been bestowed on me when I was a kid. I had complained bitterly that everyone else I knew had a cool nickname and I wanted one too. I can’t remember who first called me that, it was probably Hustle himself. He was one of the few guys in the club I still trusted, he never made a pass at me as I grew into a woman, and that had meant a lot to me at the time. It still did.

“Yeah, I’m good. What does Nate want?”

“Dunno,” Hustle lied smoothly.

I rolled my eyes at him, and he shrugged again. He’d defend me against anyone, but his loyalty was to the club before anything and anyone else, including me. 

“C’mon,” he said, putting a soft hand on my upper back and guiding me gently but firmly to my father’s old office.

The room was one thing that Nate hadn’t changed in the years since he’d slowly taken over Dad’s empire. The office was still clad in rich wood panelling, painted blood red, with black accents. Various memorabilia filled the room including a large fresco of the club’s Colours which drew the eye to the wall behind my father’s dark timbre desk. I remember when Dad commissioned it, he had been so proud to show it off.

Nate was standing near the desk, talking to another biker I’d never met before. I didn’t remember seeing him at the funeral, but there were a lot of out of towners there. 

He was good looking enough, with close cropped hair, a scruffy dark brown beard and bright blue eyes that seemed intelligent but still had that familiar aura of danger that I used to think all men possessed. Physically broad and well built, he didn’t strike me as a guy who indulged in vices the way Nate and most of his club did. He seemed fit, if a little soft around the edges; he had the body of a strong man rather than a bodybuilder. His thick arms were visible below the sleeves of his black t-shirt, revealing black and grey tattoos of engines, flames, smoke and skulls. Memento Mori was written in cursive across his throat, though it was partially hidden by his beard. My Brother’s Keeper was etched along one forearm and Never Alone across the other, both in the same elaborate script and gaudy silver and gold rings encircled nearly all his fingers. He would make an imposing figure to anyone who hadn’t grown up with men like him.

His jacket was hanging on the back of one of the chairs in front of my father’s desk. I couldn’t place the colours, except of course for the 1% patch. He had to be from out of state, I knew all the clubs in Nevada, but I had never heard of The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood and the large wolf’s head howling at the moon was too recognisable for me to have forgotten a patch like that.

Out of Town nodded towards me as I entered the room. I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes; maybe he had been at the funeral after all. He seemed polite and business-like on the surface, but his eyes studied me intently, lingering briefly on my breasts. 

To be fair though, his gaze was practically that of a gentleman’s in this world so I let it slide and nodded back to him before lazily flopping on one of the leather sofas, hoping my casualness would hide my apprehension.

“What do you want, Nate?” I asked, hoping I sounded terse rather than worried.

“I need to talk to you about some things,” he said, sounding surprisingly level-headed considering the copious amounts of drugs he’s been taking. The words ‘functional addict’ crossed my mind. 

“I’ve been here all day, hell, I’ve been around for nearly two weeks. You’ve had all that time to talk to me, now I’m tired and I want to go home. Can’t we talk about it tomorrow?”

“The contact only just got finalised,” he explained.

“A contract?” I shook my head. “No. You know I don’t want to know anything about—”

“This contract is about you,” Nate interrupted.

I blinked and looked from Nate to Out of Town to Hustle and back to Nate. “Excuse me?”

“For your protection,” Nate added.

“I’m not in the life, I don’t—”

“Neither was your mum, Babycakes,” Hustle said softly.

I felt a sudden chill at Hustle’s words. I could believe that in my brother’s drug-addled state he was being overprotective, or plain paranoid, but Hustle wasn’t prone to exaggeration. 

Hustle had loved Mum and not in a way that was disrespectful. He seemed to admire her, respecting her fidelity and steadfastness. There weren’t a lot of women like Mum in the circle’s Hustle ran in. Most women wanted to play the bad boy game, they liked the danger of a biker, the excitement of an untameable man. Love was rarely long term, and Hustle knew that as well as anyone after three failed marriages. 

It wasn’t just the women who didn’t stick around, most of the men couldn’t keep their cocks in their pants. Even Dad had been known to screw around on occasion while he was still married to Mum. It was the life and it was another reason I avoided it.

“You said she was collateral damage, you said she wasn’t a target,” I said to Hustle, unable to keep the accusation of dishonesty from my tone.

“New information has come to light,” Nate responded and I turned my ire towards him with a glower. He raised a finger at me and continued, “Specific threats against all our families. Most of the guys have already moved their women and kids out of state, and since I don’t have a woman or kids, the threat is on the last of my family. You.”

I knew where this was going now. The past two weeks had been intense and not just because of my parents death. Everywhere I went I needed permission from Nate and if he did let me leave, it was with Hustle or one of the other senior club members. I thought it was because of the cops or media attention. 

“Fuck.” I dropped my head into my hands. 

It’s not the first time I’ve had to leave the state. Hell, once a few years ago, Mum and I had to go to Canada and stay with a friendly club up there for three months. Anger boiled in me, I thought I was out, free from this shit. I should have known better, no one ever truly leaves the life. 

“How long?” I asked.

“Until the threat is eliminated,” Nate said matter of factly. I could have smacked him.

“Fucking hell!”

“I’m sorry, Lori.” 

I looked up at Nate. He never apologised and although it seemed genuine, it didn’t diminish my anger. He obviously felt guilty about something and I wondered how much to blame he was for what was going on; how badly he had fucked up? However, the appearance of regret in Nate’s eyes was fleeting, and he became cold and business-like again. 

“This is Syverson,” Nate pointed to Out of Towner, “His club specialises in protection. You’ll be going with him to their clubhouse just outside of Dallas and waiting it out with them.”

“Texas? Across half the fucking country? Come on, Nate, really? I thought you meant New Mexico or California.”

“It’s where I live,” Syverson finally spoke up. 

His voice surprised me. He was a southerner and his drawl was subtle but it was there, and his tone was soothingly deep. 

“We take long term protection cases back to the clubhouse. It’s secure and well fortified and more guys to share the load,” Syverson smiled at me. I suppose he meant for it to be reassuring, but it came across as patronising.

“You’ll leave tonight,” Nate said. “All the clubs leaving is good cover; no one will notice another biker and his old lady heading out.”

“Wait, we’re going on his bike? To Dallas? That’ll take a week!” My thighs and hips groaned at the prospect. That’s a long time on a bike and I haven’t ridden that far in years.

“Three days, if we make some headway tonight,” Syverson said and like a mind reader he added, “We’ll stop plenty to stretch your legs, sugar.” 

I raised my eyebrows at ‘sugar’, but Nate didn’t blink. Hustle gave him some side-eye that Syverson caught but ignored. That was interesting. Despite never hearing of him before, for Hustle to let it go meant this guy, or his club, or both, had some serious clout.

Looking at the three men I could see no way out of this; my shoulders slumped and I gave up. My parents were dead, my brother was a criminal and a drug addict, and I was being pulled back into a world I thought I had left behind. I wanted to cry, but I knew I couldn’t show any sign of weakness, so I stayed angry instead. I figured it would be better to give in and go with Syverson and try to worm my way home later. I knew Nate well enough that if I tried to fight him he wouldn’t be above handcuffing me to Syverson and basically allowing him to kidnap me.

I looked again at Syverson. He stared back at me, not trying to stare me down like a lot of bikers do, but as if he were trying to show me he had nothing to hide. His eyes didn’t waver as they held mine, no sign of shifty glances, no sign that he wasn’t who he appeared to be. He was either trustworthy or an extremely good actor. Not even my brother could look at me like that.

“I’ll have to go home, pack and change,” I said, waving a hand over my black dress. There was no way I could get on a bike in my tight pencil skirt and maintain any dignity. “You’ll let me do that, right?”

Nate grinned and nodded. “Hustle will drive you home in the van, Syverson will follow, get you packed and then you’ll leave tonight.”

Gritting my teeth I dipped my head to Nate. He returned the gesture and I saw again the brief look of guilt in his eyes. I glanced at Hustle, but he was already walking out the door.

I followed Hustle and Syverson through the clubhouse and got into the van, barely registering what was going on. I had too many thoughts in my mind and I was already mentally making a list of what to pack. I knew I’d have to pack light, bikes weren’t exactly ideal for hauling luggage.

I clenched my fists in frustration as Hustle drove out of the compound. Three days on a bike, plus God only knows how long I was supposed to be at the clubhouse. There was no way I’d have enough space for all the clothes and other things I would normally take like books, my laptop and my hair straightener.

I sighed heavily and looked out the window. It was already dark and I was a little hungry, but my anger and nervousness masked most of the pangs I felt in my belly.

“It's going to be okay, Babycakes,” Hustle said, confidently “The Club’s been through shit like this before and we’ve come good.”

“Back when you had Dad,” I pointed out, “He always had a cool head for situations like this.”

“Hook’s is up to it.”

“Yeah? Think he’ll lay off the coke long enough to think rationally? It was probably something dumb he did to get the Club in the shit in the first place.”

“Babycakes,” Hustle said with a warning tone in his voice.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he didn’t fuck with the wrong guy or get too greedy. Tell me exactly why I’m being shipped off?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Of course not. I’m just a fucking mushroom y’all keep in the dark and feed me shit.”

Hustle chuckled and I stared daggers at him, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows.

“You’re cute when you get angry, Babycakes.”

“Fuck you,” I growled, but my lips twitched and I had to suppress a grin, Hustle was just too damn likeable.

I stared out the window again and saw in the side mirror that a single headlight was following us. It must be my ride.

“What do you know about him?” I tilted my head towards Syverson riding behind us. “Do you know anything about him?”

“Supposedly ex-military, but that's just a rumour. They're all supposedly ex-something, but…” Hustle shrugged.

“No one knows?”

Hustle shook his head.

“Do you know anything about the club, The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood? I’ve never heard of them.”

“Not much, except that they’re small, selective and secretive. They’ve got a good reputation, powerful despite their size, specialising in protection and a few other things.”

I nodded slowly. It didn’t make sense to me that a small nonaffiliated club from halfway across the country would take me in. Always before when I was sent away, it had been to a branch of my fathers club, or one they were heavily associated with. It must be costing Nate a fortune for the club to work with him.

“It’s bad isn’t it, Hustle?” I asked softly, feeling a small spike of fear working its way into my gut.

“Just do what they tell you to and you'll be fine, Babycakes.” Hustle laid a gentle hand on my knee and gave me a fatherly pat before putting his hand back on the wheel. “They’ll take good care of you. They’re to be trusted.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #syverson #syverson x ofc #cpt syverson #captain sy #august walker fanfiction #august walker #august walker fic #august walker x ofc #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall fic #geralt x ofc #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) #mike hellraiser #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fic #mike (hellraiser) fic

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 8 - Christmas Delivery

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 7 -- Part 9

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra)

Summary: Surviving your parents' dull Christmas party has become a fun little tradition for you, your brother Peter and his best friend. This year, your brother won't make it back in time, but Marshall can keep you company.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, MINORS DNI!, p-in-v sex (technically safe, not necessarily very smart, but there's some convo about it, at least), size kink (minor), oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption. And some angst. I'm sorry about that.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: Not a lot to say about this other than; sorry it's so goddamn late, but enjoy some belated Christmas angst, I guess?

@peaches1958 there ya go, love!

“Christmas delivery!” The door to your room swung open and a tall, bearded young man stepped inside. You stuffed the book you’d been reading underneath the pillow, but not quickly enough for it to escape his attention. A sliver of mischief crossed his face. He put the bottle he was holding on the dresser by the door and dove for the book, trapping you beneath his body in the process. You didn’t stand a chance against him; he was far bigger than you and much - much - stronger. With the book in his one hand and a triumphant grin on his face, he rolled to the side so that he was next to you. 

“You’re reading this?” He laughed so hard when he saw the romance novel that you were afraid he’d suffocate. “Lex, you?” Another fit of laughter. Just when you thought your cheeks couldn’t get any hotter without melting your skin, he actually opened it to a page you’d been stupid enough to dog-ear. 

“God, it’s filth,” he chuckled as he threw the book across the room. 

“Walter Marshall!” You exclaimed while you shot up from the bed to retrieve your book. “If you came here just to throw my books around, I suggest you get out.” The bottle on the dresser beckoned you from its resting place. It was Baileys, something your parents always had at their annual Christmas party, that none of their guests actually drank. You, Walter and Peter (your older brother) had found out years ago - before it was strictly legal, for you, anyway - that it was the safest and easiest bottle to steal. 

“Why would you need that stuff, Lexi,” Marshall said as he sat up on your bed. You joined him, bottle in hand, and pushed against his shoulder. It was strange, now that it was just the two of you, but Peter wouldn’t make it back from uni until tomorrow afternoon.

“Because, Walter,” he winced, you chuckled - you knew he hated it when you used his first name; he loathed the name, and you loved exploiting that little fact. “If I want to ever have any kind of orgasm in this life, I’m going to have to make it happen myself.”

“You have that boyfriend, right? Ian? Mark? Shane? I lost count, I’m sorry - oof!” He groaned when you punched him in his abs. Your aim had never been perfect, and your fist landed a bit closer to his groin than you had intended. 

“Dean,” you replied - and for the record, there was never a Mark. “He dumped me for Laetitia, I think. I don’t really give a fuck. Besides, it’s not as if he was any help in the aforementioned department.”

“So, find another guy?” The laconicism of his recommendation hurt a bit; growing up, Marshall had always been like a brother to you, but you’d never forget the summer you turned sixteen. It was over three years ago, but you remembered it as if it was yesterday. 

“Alex, get over here!” Your brother had never had much patience. Especially not when barbecue - or meat in general - was involved, but your mom absolutely refused to feed anyone before every last soul was present at the table. You climbed out of the pool and made your way over to the tent, where the rest of your family was sitting. The Marshalls had joined you - not that they had to go far; they were your neighbors, anyway. Walter and Peter were putting the last plates down when you got there. Neither of them had bothered to put any more clothes on than they’d been wearing before, when you’d all been swimming. For some reason, you hadn’t noticed then, but now it hit you like a truck: Walter Marshall was hot… Distracted by the faint lines on his abs and confused by how not-gross the hair on his chest was all of a sudden - because you could have sworn you had found it absolutely disgusting literally yesterday - you didn’t watch your chair when you sat down. It wasn’t unfolded properly, and it decided to collapse when you dropped yourself into it. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed - and were met with two “language!”-s from both your and Walter’s mom. 

“Are you alright, Lexi?” Two blue eyes appeared before you and strong arms grabbed you and pulled you off the ground. 

“Don’t call me Lexi,” you huffed as you prepared for him to let go - though you wouldn’t mind having his arms wrapped around you a little longer. 

“She’s okay, everyone,” he laughed before turning back to you: “And, eh… No dice… Lexi.”

“Lexi?” The bottle of Baileys appeared in front of your eyes. You gladly took it from the strong hand that held it there, as the memory of that camping trip faded to the background again. 

“No luck with other guys, either, so far,” you said without thinking. As soon as you realized what you’d said, you began hoping furiously that Walter hadn’t noticed, but of course mister detective always had to catch on to absolutely fucking everything. 

“Hold on,” he said in disbelief, “no guy has ever…” His voice trailed off and you shook your head in response. Marshall seemed at a loss for words. The both of you drank in silence for a while, as was originally the custom; neither of you spoke much, you mostly just enjoyed each other’s company. Your brother - believe it or not - was the talkative one out of the three of you. And he wasn’t here, therefore it took the two of you three quarters of that bottle to continue your conversation. A conversation you probably shouldn’t have been having in the first place. He was your brother’s best friend, for crying out loud.

“Jesus, Lexi, that doesn’t sound like good sex to me,” he muttered - quite hurriedly, as if he was ashamed of what he said. You shrugged. He was right, it hadn’t been good, but Walter didn’t need to know that. One of Marshall’s strong arms snaked around your body and pulled you into his side. His body was like a goddamn wall: solid and absolutely massive. You rested your head against his shoulder and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Lex,” he whispered, “you deserve better.” Oh, God, the alcohol. Your first year at college had proven that you could and should not be trusted around the stuff, and you cursed yourself, because you knew this. You’d just thought you could trust yourself around Marshall, him being one of your best friends and all - and your brother's best friend - but your brain watched from the sidelines as your mouth betrayed you.

“Well, I don’t see it happening, unless you volunteer.” 

Option one; A “Good one, Lexi!” and a playful tickle at your waist. Two; A “Jesus, Lexi, get off me!” and a firm push against your shoulder. Three; A “Fuck’s sake, Lexi, why would I want to screw you?!” followed by a thundering laugh. Four… You didn’t have time to think of a fourth scenario, but even if you would have, this would not have been what you’d have come up with. Marshall’s hand cupped your face and he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed you. Walter Marshall was kissing you. Right now. He was, he really was. Your brain short-circuited in the most profound “no thoughts, head empty” kind of way. Thank God for the tiny little voice that, after a few long moments, finally had the gall to tell you: Do something or he will think you’re not into this and he will stop. You broke the kiss and slammed the bottle you were still holding down on your nightstand before returning your attention to Marshall’s lips. You could taste the whiskey on them, and the soft, sweet taste of chocolate… The taste combined so well with the scent of his cologne that you thought you’d go insane. Your hands slid up his sides and over his chest before settling in his dark curls and you moaned into his mouth. He replied with a chuckle. 

“What?” You whispered when his mouth left yours and his head dipped into your neck. 

“Just glad you’re having fun,” he murmured against your skin. The coarse hair of his beard tickled, which meant it was your turn to chuckle, but the sound got stuck in your throat and was replaced by a soft whimper when his lips touched your neck. You leaned to the side and pulled him along with you, until you were lying on the bed in a half-on-top-half-next-to-each other pile of bodies. Every single time his lips came into contact with your skin - be it your neck, your mouth, your collarbone or that cheeky nip at the part of your breast that your blouse left exposed - you whined. More, your body screamed, more, more, more! You felt it everywhere; in your cheeks, that radiated heat and must have been glowing red for him to see, in your throat, that let out or choked back whines, moans and the occasional ‘fuck’, your chest, where your heart pounded and your breath hitched, and the pit of your stomach. If these were the proverbial butterflies, you never wanted him to leave, ever again. It was as if you’d never been kissed before. The feeling of a palm brushing your chest heightened another feeling; the increasing ache between your legs that you only now realized was so unfamiliar to you in a context involving another person. A small part of you wanted to push him off, berate him for invading your most private and intimate of emotions, but a much, much bigger part of you swore to God and anyone who would listen that if this man ever let go of you, you’d explode. Marshall was unceremonious when it came to your clothes; he opened two buttons of your blouse before just pulling it over your head, and he hardly bothered to look at your bra before it flew across the room. His own sweater followed suit in a matter of seconds. God, you thought as he towered over you in that moment, half naked and tall and all those other things you couldn’t quite articulate but you knew he was, nonetheless, how much hairier can a man get in three years time? Seeing him like this drove you insane, and you secretly wondered what had been wrong with fifteen year old you that she hadn’t found him attractive, then. Walter Marshall was no romantic, but he always knew what needed doing, and got it done. His hands and mouth explored your naked skin, allowing you to do the same. You ran your fingers through the dark, coarse curls on his chest, and along the muscles of his back, digging your nails into his shoulder when he softly bit your nipple. 

“Hey!” You exclaimed in surprise at the unfamiliar feeling, earning you another chuckle. 

“Did I hurt you?” He then asked earnestly, and you responded by shaking your head. 

“Just startled me,” you laughed nervously. The next nip was less startling and the slight sting was smoothed over by a swirl of his tongue. You couldn’t keep your body still underneath his as his mouth, assisted by his hands, explored your chest - and soon your stomach, lower and lower until he arrived at the waistband of your skirt. Not that the fabric of it was still in place; it was mostly bunched up around your hips at this point. The skirt suffered a fate much like that of your bra and blouse, and now the only thing separating your aching pussy from Marshall’s face was the thin cotton fabric of your panties. Startled by the sudden realization that your childhood crush had his face between your thighs, you snapped your legs together, forgetting that his face would be caught in between. 

“Alright,” he laughed as he got up on his knees and leaned over to give you a kiss on your forehead, “can we make a deal? If you don’t want me to do something, tell me. I promise I’ll stop. Just… There really is no need to kick me in the head or whatever that was.” You couldn’t help but laugh, too, but the inclination disappeared as fast as it had arisen when he bent over even further to whisper something in your ear. 

“I’m begging you, though, let me get back down there because you smell fantastic.” As if those words were your own personal remix of ‘open sesame’, your legs fell to the side and Marshall eagerly made his way back down, pressing a few wet kisses on you along the way. One moment you were wearing underwear, the next it was gone and you were completely naked. Marshall threw you the blanket that was at the foot of the bed and winked at you while he settled between your legs, and you gratefully spread it out over your upper body. Marshall shook his head while he laughed. You were always cold, and this was so completely in-character for you that he couldn’t help but find the whole thing very amusing. It wasn’t long, though, before he composed himself and focused his attention on the task at hand. You could tell from the look on his face that he was deciding whether or not to drag this out. Luckily, he decided against it. With one hand on the back of each thigh, and using his thumbs to spread your swollen lips, he dragged his tongue through your wet folds before settling at your clit, working the small pearl with a strong, dependable rhythm that had you squirming within seconds. He could tell you wouldn’t last long, which egged him on even more. Not because it would save him a cramped jaw, but because there was nothing in the entire world that he wanted more than to be responsible for your pleasure. Every single move of his tongue wound you tighter and tighter until you felt you were going to explode. Your fingers tangled with his hair, pulling his face closer to your body, hips writhing against his mouth, begging for more until you finally toppled over the edge. You had to cover your face with your pillow to keep your screams from being heard throughout the house. As the intense feeling of bliss slowly subsided, you became more and more aware of the trail of kisses that Marshall left on your torso as he made his way back up, lingering in your neck for a moment before kissing your mouth again. Your first instinct was to push him off - he’d just been down there and now he was kissing you? Ew! - but you soon found out that tasting yourself on his lips was arousing more than anything. Without thought, your hands moved to open the button of his jeans, and you were surprised when he stopped you. 

“Lexi, are you sure?” He breathed into your mouth. There was genuine concern in his voice, but you couldn’t quite figure out why. 

“Shut up, Marshall, I want you,” you hissed into his ear, and from the pained half-grunt-half-whine he let out, you deduced that he wanted the same. Your fingers continued to work the button and zipper of his jeans, this time with his help. When you brushed past the bulge in his underwear, your eyes opened wide and you gasped. There is no way in hell, you thought involuntarily as panic set in. 

“Is it too late to change my mind?” There was no way he couldn’t hear the way your voice trembled. 

“Never,” he said earnestly, “you can always change your mind. What are you worried about?” You looked at him in disbelief - was he really asking that question? Walter Marshall you arrogant cunt, you thought. He had to know he was massive, right? 

“You’re kidding, right?” A sardonic chuckle spilled from your throat as you thought about the ridiculousness of that question. “There’s no way that’ll ever…” Your voice trailed off without finishing that sentence - not that you needed to; Walter’s face had already warped into a needlessly cocky smile.

“Do you trust me?” You replied with a nod. “Will you tell me if I hurt you?” Another nod. “And can you try to relax?” This time, you whispered a very soft ‘yes’. “Do you have a condom?” He asked while eyeing your nightstand. 

“Do we need one?” You moaned against his neck. 

“Lexi!” He looked at you in disbelief, one eyebrow raised and with an open mouth. 

“I’m clean and on birth control,” you said matter-of-factly, the look on your face phrasing the accompanying question: Are you? He answered your unspoken question with a simple nod while he weighed the pros and cons in his head. Your hand moved between your two bodies and - again with his help - pulled his underwear down. Feeling it had in no way prepared you for seeing it; you swallowed hard and tried to get a grip on your lower lip, which trembled uncontrollably. 

“I said something about trying to relax, and I meant it, Lexi,” he chuckled before pressing his lips to your neck. Despite his reminder, your entire body tensed up as you felt the head of his cock press gently at your entrance. God this is going to hurt so bad, you thought and you scrunched up your face, awaiting the pain. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, love,” he whispered as if he could read your mind, “trust me, tell me if I accidentally do hurt you, and chill.” You took a deep breath and focused on breathing calmly while he began slowly inching his way inside of you, keeping careful watch on your face for any signs of discomfort. Sighs and moans escaped from your throat as he sank deeper and deeper into your drenched core. He was right; it didn’t hurt. That’s a first, you thought - at least; you thought you thought it. 

“First? Lex, tell me I didn’t just…” Fuck, you’d actually said that out loud.

“No, no,” you interrupted him with a chuckle, “it’s just the first time it doesn’t hurt…” 

Marshall gawked at you for a moment before a smile appeared on his face. “I’m glad I’m not hurting you,” he whispered before he kissed you while pushing all the way into you. You answered the kiss hungrily, frantically sliding your tongue along his lips, begging for entrance. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips so your tongue could slip between them and circle his. The feeling of his mouth on yours was overwhelming on its own, but combined with the incredibly full feeling of his thick cock deep inside you, it was almost too much. You rocked your hips, trying to get him to move, to give you more than just this, looking for the friction that would bring you release. It didn’t take a detective to understand that hint; Marshall started moving his hips at your request. They were short, shallow thrusts at first, which already left you moaning and whining like a… Like a desperate slut? It was the best description you could come up with. It only got worse as the thrusts became deeper, faster and harder. You pulled the blanket up to your mouth to stifle your screams as the sound of skin against skin became louder and filled the room. 

“Marshall.. I can’t…” You sighed in between moans, your breath completely out of control and slight soreness setting in where his hips slammed into you. 

“Hang on… please… close…” was all he could say as his breathing and movements became more and more erratic. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was close; it took only a couple more seconds for him to finish. You were both glad and sad that it was over, yet your sigh as you felt his cock slip out of you must have sounded more like the former than the latter, because Marshall immediately looked at you suspiciously. 

“Not good?” He asked as he stroked your hair out of your face. 

“A little sore, you’re a lot,” you laughed before kissing him softly on his lips. You wriggled out from under him and started looking for your clothes, which were scattered on the floor around your bed. Marshall looked at you questioningly from your bed. 

“Bathroom,” you explained as you hastily got dressed and made your way out of the room. 

When you got back, Marshall had put his own clothes back on and was sitting on the edge of the bed with the bottle of Baileys in his hands. You joined him on the bed and wrapped your arms around him, only to be sorely disappointed when he didn’t return your affection, and instead stared ahead stoically while taking another sip. 

“I just fucked my best friend’s little sister,” he sighed as he let his head hang. Your arms dropped to your side, the floor vanished from beneath you and it felt like you were falling. 

“You regret it.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and you just knew you were right when you said it. Marshall, however, shook his head and chuckled sarcastically. 

“I regret that I don’t because I know that I should,” he said. 

Well, happy fucking Christmas to you.

-> Part 9

#henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall smut #henry cavill smut #179 crescent street #179cs #179cs8

[catierambles]

Fated Ch.2

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Clara Tunney (OFC)

WC 1893

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping and sexual assault Minors DNI 18+ONLY a/b/o themes later on if you squint and unfocus your eyes

"Chapter" 1 for those who want a refresher

@brattymum96 , @ouroboros113 , @peaches1958 , @summersong69 , @henryownsme , @eldarwen333

Clara crashed hard like he knew she would when she was done giving her statement, telling them everything that she had gone through the last couple years with a kind of numb detachment. Rage had built in him slowly as she talked, his mind going back to that bastard walking away from them. The station psychologist had insisted on speaking to her after they got everything down and they gave them some privacy as the two women spoke.

"Well?" Walter asked and Rachel sighed.

"She's been through a lot of trauma." She said.

"So it's all true?"

"Yeah, Walter, it's all true. She's distanced herself from it as a way to cope, but she still feels it. Clara is…probably one of the strongest people I've ever met who's gone through something like this. She never stopped trying to get away, never gave up trying to get her freedom. No matter how many times he caught her, or she was handed back to him, she wasn't broken by it and she just tried again." Rachel said, "Based on what she's said about him, she's absolutely correct when she told you he would stop at nothing to get her back."

"And the stuff about her family?"

"She expanded on what she told you. Her and her abusers parents were convinced that they were fated to be together. That they were born for one another."

"Excuse me?"

"Reminds me of cult-like behavior and brainwashing, people absolutely convinced that something is meant to happen due to some random occurrence." Rachel said, "This one, her and Daniel, they share a birthday, but he's a year older than her."

"So because they have the same birthday, her parents are so convinced that they're supposed to be together that  they would gladly hand their daughter over to a man that raped her repeatedly. She went to them to get help getting away from him and they just gave her back with a smile." Walter said and Rachel nodded. "Fuck."

"She didn't let it break her though, she fought him and she's still fighting." Rachel said, "Every time she managed to escape was fighting him."

"She told me he was going to kill her." Walter said, "But if he thinks they're supposed to be together…"

"He may just kill her so no one else can have her." Rachel said and Walter sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Where is she now?"

"I put her in your office, she looked exhausted." Rachel said and he nodded.

"Thank you." He walked away, heading to his office and pushing open the door. His eyes immediately went to her curled up on the couch he had in there, deeply asleep. Heading over to the filing cabinet, he pulled it open slowly and pulled out the wool blanket he kept in there. Shaking it out, he laid it over her gently and she woke with a gasp, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes. "Easy, Clara, it's me, it's Walter."

"W-Walter?" She asked and he nodded.

"You can sleep here, it's okay. You're safe." He said and she nodded, her fingers curling around the edge of the blanket and pulling it tighter around herself. He watched as she quickly drifted off again, secure in her surroundings and feeling safe in his presence. He wasn't going to pass her off to someone else. That wasn't going to happen. He was going to handle this one personally and make sure that bastard never hurt her again. 

"Are you sure, Lieutenant?" The Captain asked him after he laid out his plan and Walter nodded.

"She obviously feels safe around me and I don't want to hand her off to someone else she doesn't know." Walter said, "We also can't be certain that he won't try to lie and get her back somehow. Wouldn't be the first time he's lied to cops and tricked them into handing her over."

"True, but they didn't know the full story."

"He tried to get me to hand her over by telling me that she was off her medication and paranoid. I can see him trying again." Walter said and the Captain nodded. "Track her down, make her sound crazy, that she made it all up, and then vanish with her again."

"Any thoughts about where she's going to stay?"

"She can stay with me, I've got the room, and I told her I wasn't going to let her out of my sight until we tracked down Daniel Marks and put him away." Walter said.

"It's your show, Lieutenant. A BOLO has been put out for Daniel Marks based on the description you and she gave of him. The composite will be on every news station in the country in case he tries to run."

"And if it reaches her family that she's not with him anymore?" Walter asked, "If they try to take her and we know they'll just give her back to him, I'd like to see if we can press charges. Aiding and abetting kidnapping and false imprisonment, accessory after the fact for the numerous sexual assaults. They knew what he was doing to her and they did nothing. They encouraged it, even."

"If they come forward, I'll talk to the DAs office, see what strings we can pull to keep them away from her. Charges may not stick, but it'll make them think twice." The Captain said, "She's not a minor, so that'll help in her favor to stay away from them. She doesn't have to go with them if she doesn't want to, legally."

"It's getting late and she's still asleep in my office. I'm going to wake her up and get her back to my place and a proper bed." Walter said.

"I'll have two officers keep an eye on your place tonight, just in case." Walter walked away after that, heading back to his office and kneeling down next to the couch, laying his hand on her shoulder gently.

"Clara?" He asked softly and her eyes opened slowly. "Come on, sweetheart. I'm taking you somewhere else where you can sleep better." 

"Where are we going?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.

"My house. You're going to stay with me until we track him down. Is that okay?" She nodded and sat up.

"I don't--I feel safe with you." He stood as she got up from the couch, catching her as she wavered slightly on her feet from exhaustion. Her hands pressed against his chest for support as he held her arms and she looked up at him. Walter was momentarily struck by the warm richness of her dark eyes, the color of melted chocolate. There was a gravity to them and he found himself leaning into her, his own eyes moving down to her deep pink lips before meeting hers again. There was nothing in her gaze or on her face telling him to stop, in fact her fingers curled against his chest, twisting in his sweater. Shaking his head slightly, he blinked rapidly as he snapped out of it and she looked away from him, her hands dropping. That was weird. He almost kissed her and she looked like she wanted him to. Absolutely not. She was under his protection and vulnerable. He would not take advantage of her like that.

She was silent in the passenger seat of his truck as he drove, leaning against the door and looking out of the window.

“This is the longest I’ve been away from him since he first took me.” She said, watching the lights go past. “I still can’t believe I actually got away this time. I keep expecting to wake up or something, and be back with him again.”

“That’s never going to happen.” Walter said, “Do you understand? You’re going to stay with me, we’re going to find him, and then he’s going away for a long time. Based on your statement, he’s going to have a long list of charges brought up against him.”

“What if he just tells them what he always does? That I’m crazy and making it all up?”

“The woman you spoke to? Rachel? She’s a psychologist. She’ll testify that you were completely honest.”

“Will I have to?” She asked, “Testify? Tell a room full of strangers what he did to me while he’s staring at me?”

“You might.” Walter admitted, “But I’ll be there in the courtroom if you do. Look at me, not at him.”

“Thank you.” She said quietly and he reached over, taking her hand in his where it laid on her thigh. The rest of the trip was made in silence and he pulled up outside of the house, releasing her hand. She waited for him to come for her before getting out of the truck and he looped an arm around her shoulders, leading her up the walk. There was already a marked car parked across the street and he waved to the officers inside briefly before unlocking the front door.

Clara stood in the entryway, looking around with her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

“It’s not much.” Walter said, “You have free run of the kitchen if you get hungry. We’ll have to do something about clothes for you in the morning, but I can give you something to wear to sleep in tonight.”

“Thank you.” She said and he sighed, going to her and pulling her into his arms. She relaxed into him instantly, her arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her face in his chest.

“You’re going to be okay.” He muttered, rubbing her back soothingly and she nodded against his chest. She mumbled something that he didn’t quite get and he pulled away to look at her. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said after a pause. “Where am I sleeping?”

“I’ll show you, come on.”

Walter gave her privacy after giving her a t-shirt and a pair of shorts of his to sleep in, leaving as she got changed. Clara sat on the bed long after he was gone, listening to the silence. She had to be careful around him, had to keep herself from believing too strongly that his kindness was anything else but duty. It was his job, nothing more. He gave her his word that he would look after her until they found Daniel and he was doing just that. Once--if--Daniel was ever caught, that would be it, it would be over. He would leave her behind as another case closed. There was something about him, though. Something in his blue eyes that pulled her in, something about his dark curls that made her fingers twitch with the want to run through them. He smelled fantastic, a kind of smell that calmed her heart but made her mind race.

He had almost kissed her earlier, had looked like he wanted to, desperately wanted to and she had wanted him to do it. She had wanted to feel his lips on hers, the whiskers of his beard scratch against her skin.

She was kidding herself. Daniel was never going to be caught. She was never going to be free of him. He’d take her again like he always did and move them far away. She couldn’t get attached to Walter, couldn’t let herself feel anything for him.

It would only hurt when Daniel killed him.

#henry cavill #walter marshall #fated #my writing