#Walter marshall fluff

[anniefromravenclaw]

When you feel bad, you may need some Henry as Walter Marshall.🩷

Importaint to say that I feel horrible. While studying for my exams I read many fanfics in the free time. Do you have any favourites Walter Marshall or August Walker fics? Let me know❣️

[lainiespicewrites]

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

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

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

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

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

Please don't share without crediting.

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

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

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

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

“No,” I said again. “I do know.” 

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

“There’s no evidence.” I said. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” was all I managed to say. 

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

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

“You’re sure?” She asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s his name?” He asked me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do,” I spoke finally. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry for keeping you,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

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Part 2:

[geralts-yenn]

Memories - part 2

Walter Marshall x OFC Maxine (second-person pov)

summary: You finally have to face Walter and talk to him about what happened in that night, years ago

warnings: 18+, minors DNI! drinking alcohol, vaginal fingering, oral (F,M receiving), protected p-in-v sex

word count: 4,6k

A/N: sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger, but I'm not cruel, so here we go, here's the second part

Part 1

My masterlist

As you approached your table, you shot death stares over to your sister-in-law who happily smiled back at you. She kissed your brother on his cheek and acted as if she didn’t know at all why you were glaring at her. 

You sat down on your chair, trying your best not to look at anything or anyone. You pretended not to be here at all. A deep huff behind your back told you he had found out about the seating situation now, too. Walter dragged his chair a bit back and sat down. 

“Max!” he muttered under his breath and you answered with a nonverbal grunt and a nod. Both of you did your best to stare into different directions. 

“You really like seeing me suffer, huh?” he asked after a while, still avoiding your gaze. “What do you mean?” You had done nothing and still, he was already angry with you. “Like there wasn’t any other table where you could have seated me. You need to humiliate me in every possible way.” Hold on? Did he think you were responsible for this bullshit? You were suffering just as much as him.

“So it’s humiliating to sit beside me? For real? What’s wrong with you, Walter? And just so you know, I’m not happy either, having to spend the evening looking into your dumb face.”

Walter scoffed at your answer and the two of you went back to ignoring each other until another guest approached you. An older lady sat down opposite of you two and introduced herself as Mrs. Goldstein, an aunt of Vicky. She smiled at you and Walter. “You’re such a sweet, good-looking couple.” Both Walter’s and your eyes got wide and you both started mumbling.

“No, no, we’re not a couple!” Walter said determinedly. “Just, uhm, old friends.” you added, not sure how to name the relationship you had with Walter in a friendly way without lying. 

The lady raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, feeling for Walter’s biceps. “Oh, then you don’t mind if I make a move on this attractive man?” Her eyes were glistening with mischief as she gave you a wink. You had to grab your champagne and take a huge sip to hide the laugh that was going to slip you. She repeated her wink as she turned to Walter and to your surprise he reacted with a playful smile. But when his look met yours and he saw your amusement, his eyes went dark. 

Thankfully, the table filled with more guests that helped you to ignore each other. The first course was served and you started eating. Which ended in the next argument with Walter. Being left-handed, you had to move your arm opposite to him and your elbows crashed together more than once as you tried to cut your meat. Every time you touched each other, Walter gave you an angry glare. “Would you just eat like a normal person without bumping into me all the time?” he snapped and you answered with an eye roll. “What do you expect? I can’t do this any different. Sorry that I’m not normal enough for you.” Of course, you could have tried to be more careful, you even would have been able to switch hands. But not for him. Especially not if he was acting like a baby over it.

To your own surprise, you made it through dinner and toasts without killing each other. The band started playing and you could have just mixed with the other guests, but you weren’t in the mood. You kept sitting beside Walter, who looked just as pissed as you.

When the third woman asking him for a dance got rejected, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer. It was just boiling in you. “Why do you keep saying no? All those ladies would love to have some fun with you. And I’m sure they would be in for a treat. You were good, even back then when we didn’t even know what we were doing. Guess you learned a few more tricks since then.”

Walter looked at you with more hatred than you had ever seen in his face. “Do you really want to talk about this? Here, now?” He was barely holding his voice down. You knew immediately that you’ve gone too far. Heat flashed over your cheeks as you only pressed out an embarrassed “No”. 

“Good! Because I surely don’t want to!” Was his voice trembling? You felt awful, and you silently cursed at your sister-in-law who ruined your evening by setting you up with your ex. No, ex wasn’t the right word. But what would you call it? The crush you fucked and then ghosted? You decided to just stop thinking about it. 

Mrs. Goldstein sat down on her chair again after a dance with one of Josh’s friends and was apparently eager to start another conversation with the two of you. “Walter, what do you do for a living?” she asked and Walter told her about his job as a police officer. He didn’t get into detail, but Mrs. Goldstein was glued to his lips. Then she turned to you. “And you, young lady?” 

Usually, you loved talking about your job, but now, with Walter listening, somehow you felt stupid. As if you were still the teenager who wrote fan fiction. “I’m an author.” you said, hoping she would turn back to talk with Walter, but her curiosity wasn’t satisfied yet. 

“Oh, interesting, what do you write, romances, something steamy?” She wriggled her eyebrows at Walter who couldn’t hold back a scoff. Meanwhile, you wanted to disappear, so you never would have to look into Walter’s face again. 

Why did you feel so ashamed? You were a good author. You puffed out your chest and answered. “No, mostly I write thrillers and crime stories.” This earned you another disapproving huff from Walter. 

Mrs. Goldstein didn’t seem to notice the hostility between the both of you. “Oh, so you can ask your friend for help when you need advice about police stuff.” 

Now Walter couldn’t hold back any longer. He let out a derogatory laugh. “She would never ask anyone for help, She’s too proud for something like that. Guess she rather still gets everything wrong. Like always.” 

Now you were the one glaring at Walter. What was he talking about? “What did I get wrong?” you shouted at him. 

It shocked you not to see anger and hate in Walter’s face as he looked at you. Instead, you saw hurt. “Me! You got me wrong! I was in love with you, Max. So much. But you broke my heart. And you never got it, did you? You never saw it? How much you hurt me, for giving me one night in heaven and then years in hell.” He shot up from his chair and stormed out of the room. 

When you got into the foyer, there was no sign of Walter and you cursed that it had taken you a moment until you were able to react and run after him. You glanced around helplessly. The guy at the reception looked at you and gave you a small smile. He pointed at the elevator and made an upwards gesture with his thumb. You nodded in thanks and got into the elevator. Walter could be anywhere. Probably he just left for his hotel room. And as nice as the guy at the reception seemed, he surely wouldn’t give you Walter’s room number. But then you saw the sign for the rooftop terrace. That would be a possibility. So you pressed the button and as you waited to get to the top level, you tried to gather a straight and logical thought, unsuccessfully, of course. 

But whatever thought you might have had, it got lost the moment the doors opened and you saw him. He was sitting on a stone bench, close to the balustrade, gazing over the lights of the city. He didn't seem to care about the drizzle, slowly soaking his suit. It reminded you of that night when he found you in front of that motel. In the soft light reflecting, even his face looked younger. 

You saw how his body tensed when he noticed the sound of your heels hitting the concrete tiles, but he didn't turn. Not even when you stood next to him.

“Can I sit?” you asked and Walter brushed the sleeve of his jacket over the bench to rub it dry for you, even though he still kept his gaze locked on the streets. The gesture gave you hope. He accepted you at his side, he even took care of you.

You slowly sank on the bench next to him and pointed your gaze at the lights of the city, just as he did. Both of you stayed silent for a while and somehow it felt comfortable, peaceful. Not even the cold raindrops were bothering you. But when your thoughts got too loud in your head, you finally spoke:

“You know I regret my decision every day, ever since that morning I left.” You turned to look at Walter, but he still didn’t move, it appeared as if he hadn’t even heard you. His apathy killed that small spark of hope inside of you and it was as if something cold gripped your heart tightly. And just the moment you wanted to leave and cry your heart out, his eyes locked with yours. 

“You do?” It was a whisper, barely audible. The look on his face didn’t give away any emotion. You cursed silently at this man’s stoic demeanor. Opening your heart would be so much easier if you could read at least a tiny expression on his face. 

“I broke my own heart, too, that day.” You wanted to say more, but you just couldn’t. Your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt heavy. Instead, tears formed in the corner of your eyes. 

Walter furrowed his eyebrows. He had tried to make sense of your behavior for years, hearing you say that you felt something for him too made everything just more absurd. He shook his head in disbelief as he asked you why. And you owed him an honest answer.

“I was so scared. I would have never thought you like me. I was sure it was just sex for you. And that you’d regret it. That you’d feel obligated to date me because you were stupid enough to screw your friend's sister who threw herself at you half naked and you got weak.” Something in Walter’s expression changed. He looked confused and hurt. He opened his mouth to speak, but you still needed to get some things out: “I thought you'd take me on a few dates and then find an excuse to get rid of me. And that would have made me fall in love with you even more. And then I would have had to see you anyway because you’d still hang out with Josh. The thought of this killed me. That’s why I decided to stop it before I got hurt. I thought it could save me from a heartache. And now look at me, still hurting after all those years.” The tears were falling now from your eyes, mixing with the rain on your cheeks. 

Walter startled you when he pulled you to his side. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders, placing his arm on top. His other hand on your cheek, you felt the warmth that he radiated. The gentle gesture made your tears fall more freely. You were shaking, overwhelmed by all the emotions flooding you, now that you finally allowed yourself to be honest. 

“You should have told me, Max! I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you hated me for what I had done. For using you.” Walter’s voice was husky. “And I’m sorry I took opportunity of you. I am so very sorry.” He shut his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply before he spoke again. “ I should have done this differently. Asked you for a date, making it clear I want you as my girlfriend before…before that night.” He took another pause, shaking his head again. “You know, even though it hurt us so both so much, I never regretted that night. It's still my favorite memory. The moment I had you in my arms.”

Your heart was racing as you listened to Walter’s confession. “Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. I wanted it just as much as you. Damn, Walter, you’ve been asking me multiple times if I was sure.” 

Walter sighed, a sad smile playing on his lips: “That whole day I was so upset. Charlie had told me about your plans. And how Paul was being an ass about it, talking about it in the locker room. I was so fucking jealous. I needed to clear my head, so I drove around town. Guess driving by the motel was a half unconscious decision to be near you. And when I saw you sitting there in the rain, in your beautiful dress, I just couldn't form a proper thought anymore. I shouldn’t have gotten into this bed with you, not before telling you about my feelings. But I did, and it was the best moment in my life.”

You turned to him, your face only inches away from his. Was this possible? Was it possible that he had feelings for you? It felt like it. The way he talked, the way he looked at you. 

“We fucked this up badly, didn’t we?” he asked you, chuckling incredulously.

You shook your head. “There’s only one who fucked up all of this and that’s me. I should have given you a chance. Instead, I lied, I was mean and I hurt you, on purpose. Destroying the feelings you had for me and everything that could have been between us.” 

“Max!” You could have melted by the way he said your name. “You can’t take the blame for destroying my feelings. They are all still the same. And there could be a future for us. If you want me.” Walter cupped your face with both his hands and sank his forehead down on yours. The world stopped turning and the only thing that kept moving was your heart racing in your chest. 

He wanted you. He still wanted you after everything you had done to him. You got the chance to finally make the right decision. And you took it. As your lips collided with Walter's, the passion and intensity behind that kiss became palpable. As your tongues touched, everything around you blurred into mere background noise. And when your lips parted again, both of you were left breathless and struggling to grasp the magnitude of what had just happened. A spark of optimism ran through your veins. Maybe this was really a new beginning and your scars of the past could be healed. Everything ahead was uncertain, and it would have been a lie to say you weren’t scared, but with Walter's lingering touch still burning upon your lips, you felt the determination to nurture this second chance.

Walter still had your head cradled in his hands and pulled you in for another kiss. Your own hand reached for his jaw and your fingers raked through his coarse beard. His lips were soft and warm on yours and when he parted them your tongue slipped past, eager to taste him again. His cologne mixed with the scent of petrichor was intoxicating. A shiver ran down your spine as one of his hands slowly moved to your neck.

While you surrendered to your feelings, not letting go of one another’s mouth, the drizzle turned into a full-blown rain shower. It was only when the water was pouring down your faces that you finally broke the kiss. You were both laughing, sparks of joy in your eyes. 

“I think we should relocate to somewhere dry.” Walter remarked. Not waiting for your answer he got up and dragged you with him. Waiting for the elevator, his mouth was on yours again, just little pecks in between smiles, but they felt just as good as every other bit of love he had shown to you in the last minutes. The ride in the elevator was short, and Walter distracted you with his mouth and hands roaming over every bit of skin he could reach. Not stopping the kisses, you stumbled along the corridor and Walter fumbled in his pocket for his keys. 

Eventually, you were standing in a hotel room. Walter kicked the door shut and the next moment you were pressed against the wall. He stepped between your legs, his chest pining you in place, and resumed his assault on your mouth. His hands explored your body. One of them settling on your hip, the other one brushing down your thigh. He found the slit of your dress and took advantage of it, rucking up the fabric and feeling for your leg. His fingers caressed over the delicate material of your stockings, and he groaned when he reached the lacy border and then your naked skin.

“I need you to get out of this!” he said, his hands running over your dress. He found the zipper and pulled it down impatiently. The black satin pooled around your legs as he let go of the dress, and Walter took a step back to take you in. His eyes roamed over your face, then moved down, resting on your bare chest for a moment. As he moved further and looked at the lacy garter belt and the stockings attached to it, he bit his lip. “These need to stay on” he ruled. Just hearing him talking to you like this made you want to drop on your knees for him and surrender to your longing.

But Walter ruined your plans when he got on his knees himself, pulling down your thong unceremoniously. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. But the moment you thought you’d feel his mouth on you, he stopped. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle. “Damn, how many times did I curse myself that I didn’t get my mouth on that sweet pussy.” And then his tongue darted out to lick through your folds. You let your head sink back at the wall as he made you lose all your control, lapping and sucking on your clit like it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. He rolled it between his lips and made you scream when his fingers pushed into you. He still knew exactly well where you needed to be touched. His mouth, his fingers inside of you, and his other hand playing with your hard nipple had you at the verge of toppling over the edge. But every time you thought you’d reach it, Walter stopped for a brief moment. You were squirming and whining and pleading, but Walter just chuckled.

When you thought your knees were about to give out, he finally showed mercy. His fingers pumped into you frantically as he grunted. “Come on my tongue, Max!” Hearing him, feeling him, you couldn’t do anything else as obey, and you screamed his name as your climax washed over you. His arms were cradling you, his hands firm on your sides, holding you close, when you weren’t able to control your own legs anymore. Walter raised to his feet again, picked you up and carried you to his bed. He dropped you onto the mattress, watching you hungrily. His hands made quick work of his bow tie and the buttons of his shirt, so when you knelt in front of him, you were able to rake your nails through the hair covering his chest. His shoulders were wider than you remembered, his pecs and abs more defined. “You’ve grown into a man,” you purred, and Walter laughed softly. You wanted to sink your teeth into his skin. And after kissing and licking over his neck, you did exactly this. You got rewarded with a deep moan.

You brushed his shirt down his arms, and then your fingers were on his pants, cupping the bulge that couldn’t be hidden under the soft fabric. Walter unbuttoned his slacks, and you helped him with the zipper and the boxers underneath. As soon as his cock sprang free a bead of pre-cum built at the tip of his cock and you licked your lip as you saw it. “Let me taste you,” you begged, and without waiting for an answer, your tongue flicked over his swollen head. Walter hissed at the sensation, his fingers digging into your arms. After wetting your lips, you took him into your mouth, slowly sucking and circling your tongue around the tip. Walter carefully pushed deeper into your mouth, and you let him, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you looked up at him, and the feelings that rushed through you as you saw him almost made you cry. He was watching you with hooded eyes, full of lust and love. 

You both moved in the same steady rhythm, Walter’s hips pushing forwards and your head bobbing up and down along his cock until Walter was breathing heavily and curses were falling from his lips. Your hand cupped his balls, slowly caressing them. Walter let you keep going like that for another few moments, but when his moans got louder and more desperate, he finally pulled out of your mouth. His thumb brushed over your swollen and tingling lips, and he leaned down to press a kiss on them. “I need to have you, now!” 

He pushed you to lay back and crawled between your legs, pumping his cock as his eyes darted over your tits and pussy. “Goddammit, you’re so beautiful!” he growled. Another few strokes, then he moved backwards. “Don’t you dare move. Stay exactly like this!” he told you, and you did. Keeping your legs open for him, biting your lip, you watched him as he searched through his jacket, fishing a condom out of his wallet. 

Within seconds, Walter was between your legs again, his cock sheathed now. His body engulfed you, and then you felt his cock slowly stretching you open. You both moaned in unison, locking your eyes with each other when Walter bottomed out inside of you. He pressed his lips on yours, kissing you fervently when he started to move. 

While he kept thrusting into you, your nails left red streaks over his back. You were desperate for him to take you, pressing your heels into his back, moaning and whimpering. Walter was just as lost in his desires as you, rutting into you almost violently. He grabbed your knee and threw your leg over his shoulder, straddling your other thigh. When he sank into you again, your eyes rolled back. His cock brushed over your most sensitive spot mercilessly, you felt him so deep inside of you. To make you go totally insane, he rubbed his thumb over your clit with every thrust. You were shouting profanities at him, begging him, trying to fight back the tears that started to fall. 

“Let go, baby! Let me see how you look when you come around my cock!” He rocked his hips into you, faster and harder, until you finally exploded, your legs shaking. “That’s my girl,” Walter cooed, leaning down to press wet kisses on your neck. But he wasn’t yet done with you. He manhandled you to lay on your stomach. “Get your sweet little ass over here!” he ordered, and you moved to all fours, raising your bottom invitingly to him. His hands kneaded your ass cheeks, accompanied by a content groan of his. “Look at that juicy little pussy!” His fingers brushed through your folds, circling your entrance and then moving further up, teasing your puckered hole. You squirmed, a wanton gasp leaving your lips. “Hm, you like that, don’t you? I’ll keep that in mind for another time.” You could tell he had a smug grin on his face even when your face was buried in the bedsheets right now. 

Then his cock was driving into you again. The lewd sounds from both Walter and you echoed through the room as Walter fucked you into oblivion. He lost his rhythm now, rutting desperately into you. You felt he was close. His arms wrapped around your chest, pulling you up to him. He sank his teeth into your shoulder when he reached his climax, spilling his seed into the latex as his hips stuttered behind you. 

You both collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily, but with a smile spread over your faces. Walter brushed a sweaty streak of hair out of your face before he pressed his lips onto yours. This kiss was nothing like the passionate, hungry kisses you had shared earlier. It was gentle and sweet and lovingly. And your heart skipped a beat when you realized that all the love you both felt was still there, even after you had stilled your desire. It was still palpable and not threatening to vanish. Walter nuzzled his nose into your neck, holding you close. You could have fallen asleep like that, if that memory hadn’t appeared in your mind that moment.

You laughed, raking your fingers through Walter’s curls. Walter frowned at you, though not losing the wide smile that was spread over his face. “What’s so funny?” he asked, and you were a little ashamed to admit, but then you told him anyway.

“You really learned a trick or two. And you definitely worked on your stamina.” 

Walter chuckled and pressed a kiss on your cheek. He whispered into your ear: “Hey, I don’t think I did a bad job back then, considering I was a teenager having his first time.” Your eyes went wide.

“What? It was your first time as well? But.. I didn’t know. I mean… You were in college. I thought you already…” You felt heat crawling up your neck. It wasn’t as if this information would change anything, but somehow it warmed your heart.

Walter laughed at your stammering. “I was waiting for the right one, Max.” 

*****

You woke up and for a tiny moment you considered if everything was just a wonderful dream, but then you heard the soft snores at your back and when you turned you saw him, lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow, his curls fallen into his beautiful face. You must have watched him for hours, and still, there was nothing in the world that you wanted to do instead of it. Well, maybe one or two things, but these involved Walter as well.

Then he finally opened his eyes. When he saw you watching him, his lips curled into a smile. “Hey!” you greeted him, and he gave you a "hey" back, his voice still hoarse from sleep. 

“You’re still here,” he remarked, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you close. You pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “I won’t run away anymore, Walter,” you promised him. You kissed again, and when you pulled away, you smiled mischievously. “Also, I don’t have any dry clothes, so I can’t leave.”

Walter chuckled. “What a pity. Guess we have to stay in bed, then.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Panic Attack

Summary: A panic attack leads to a conversation with a handsome Detective and he helps you feel better in a few ways.

A/N: Reader is plus sized. No other descriptors used. Thank you @peyton-warren for the idea!

Warnings: Abusive ex - Fat shaming; Food denial. Panic attack. Let me know if I missed any!

The scent hits you and brings back all of the memories. You can control for so many triggers but not scent. It’s the sense with the strongest ties to your memories and you can’t avoid it. You can’t get your brain past it. There’s no talking yourself down when all you feel you can do is shut down completely. You sit on the sidewalk and wait for the pain your brain and body know is coming. 

“Give them some space,” a voice says. It catches your attention because the accent seems out of place. 

Thinking you’ve finally fully snapped you start gently rocking. Suddenly a face comes into view. Curly hair, beard and deep blue eyes etched with concern. It’s enough to get you to stop rocking.

“Hi there,” he says. “I’m Detective Walter Marshall. You look like you’re having a panic attack?” His words take a little time to register in your brain. When they do, you nod. “Do you know what triggered this? Is it still here?” His voice is calm and caring without being condescending. 

“Smell…” you whisper. “Someone’s cologne. It’s gone now. Can’t…I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” his voice soothes. “Do you need to go inside or do you need the open space?”

“Umm…” your brain keeps trying to work but it’s stalling out. Every time you try to look away his eyes follow yours, keeping your focus on him. “Inside, please. If only so I’m not sitting on the sidewalk?”

“Okay. Can I help you up?” He stands and holds out his hand. You’re taken aback at just how tall and thick he is. You’re almost too shy to take the help but you do need to get off of the ground. You take your hand and pull yourself up. You’re a little scared you’ll hurt him with your weight but he barely seems to register it. When you’re on your feet he gestures to a nearby restaurant, “if it's a smell that got you worked up maybe a bunch of different ones will help you? My treat.”

The two of you walk the few steps to the front door and he holds the door open for you. Your movements are slow but he doesn’t comment, letting you set the pace. You find a table in the corner and sit there. You need to be able to see the entire (thankfully empty) room, can’t risk someone sneaking up on you. He sits next to you, close enough to hear you talk but far enough to respect your personal space. 

“Is there anything I can get you,” he asks. “Any comfort food or drink? Maybe even a YouTube video to help you out?”

Your brain gives a few false starts before you’re able to say, “chocolate? Chocolate flavor means he’s not here. Means I’m okay.”

He nods and gestures to one of the staff who quickly comes over. He orders a couple pieces of chocolate cake and the waiter goes to quickly grab them. 

“While we’re waiting,” he looks at you, “can you tell me your name?” You’re happy with how quickly you’re able to tell him, like maybe your brain can do something right. He nods, “when is your birthday?” That one takes a few seconds longer but you’re able to tell him. “Are you able to take a deep breath?” Almost involuntarily you find yourself slowly breathing deep. By the time you exhale you’re feeling a smidge better.

The slices of cake get to the table and he puts one in front of you, taking the other for himself. When you hesitate he starts eating his as if telling you it’s okay to eat. You take a small bite and the chemicals in your brain start adjusting and letting go of the terror that cologne had inspired. He never let you eat chocolate, sweets in general. He’d always said you needed to stop embarrassing him and lose some weight so he cut you off from your favorites. But you’re eating chocolate cake now so he can’t be here. 

After a couple of bites your panicked state eases up, leaving you feeling weak and exhausted. You start crying and apologizing. He’s quick to console you, holding your hand in his, speaking in a soothing tone about how you can’t always control when these things will hit. How trauma of any kind isn’t something that can just be pushed down and forgotten. How you’re a lot stronger than you think because you’ve survived this and more.

When you’ve cried yourself out you switch to thanking him for his help and the cake. He smiles softly and goes back to eating his slice, encouraging you to continue eating yours. You do so with gusto, smiling, and comment on how tasty it really is. 

“It goes really well with coffee,” Walter comments. “But I didn’t want to order any in case that was another trigger.”

“No,” you softly shake your head, “that sounds really nice. Decaf, though. I don’t think my nerves could handle caffeine at the moment.” Walter turns and orders the coffee which is quickly brought out. You heartily agree that the flavor of the cake is enhanced when paired with the coffee and his smile grows. 

The two of you start conversing in general small talk, leading to talking about your various interests. It’s a very restorative conversation as you let yourself feel excited to explain some of your hobbies and recent fixations. He listens and adds some of his own commentary about your shared interests. Turns out you have quite a few of them. 

After the cake and coffee has been consumed, your nerves are still raw but not as sensitive. You thank Walter for helping you out and ask if you can repay him. 

“It’s not a problem,” he smiles. “I’m genuinely happy to help. In fact, can I take you home? You look like you could use some rest.” You smile and nod. 

He leads you to his truck and you tell him your building’s address. He makes sure to walk you to the building’s front door and gives you his card in case you want to talk some more. You give him a big hug before heading inside. 

Between your name, birthday and building address, Walter is able to look up your history in the department records. He finds the restraining order with your ex-boyfriends name and address on it. He can’t do anything yet but it’s good information to have in case something happens. In the meantime, he really hopes you call or text him. 

Part 2

[martha-oi]

•° Walter Marshall °•

°• @sillyrabbit81 •°

The itch

The Madonna whore

Not too bad for an old man

Say it

°• @littlefreya •°

Bark at the moon

Cols as ice

Leather kisses

Night lessons

Overprotected - Heart of darkness

Sounds of the abyss

Discipline

Serve and protect

Guardian angel

°• @scorpiobitch95 •°

Bring it on home to me

Insomnia marshmallows - Part two

°• @raccoon-eyed-rebel •°

In all fairness

°• @wolvesandhoundshowltogether •°

His moon

The undeserving

Hot tub date

Scratch your name across my back

°• @princess-of-riviaa •°

Medicine

°• @delicate-moon-princess •°

A word like that

Warm enough?

°• @zealoushound •°

The dinner

Fuzzy bear

°• @thelastsock •°

Kiss me softly

°• @peyton-warren •°

Into the storm

[peyton-warren]

As I love to keep you occupied 😁

Do you think you can write:

⛑ - Some tender first-aid with Walter Marshall

Arresting and Arrested

Characters: Walter Marshall, OFC, random thugs Fandoms: Night Hunter, Henry Cavill characters Word count: 277 Type: angsty, fluffy. Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. Injury, blood, comfort, vague hints of torture. Summary: Walter receives comfort from a suprising source. Author's Note: @geralts-yenn is to blame for this. She sent me ask from this as game if you would like to play too. Thank you to @adulting-sucks, @ronearoundblindly and @sarahdonald87 for the beta. Let me know if you'd like to see another part to this, there may be one in the works. Ask Box: Open Masterlist

“Who are you?” Walter pushed out between ruptured lips, his lungs barely holding enough air to breathe as his likely broken ribs screamed.   

The young woman with stringy, dirty hair just silently shook her head at him, laying a finger to her lips as she continued dabbing at the cut over Walter’s�� eyebrow.  Walter peered at her through the eye that could still open, wondering who she was, what she had to do with the man who had orchestrated his kidnapping, and why she was giving him tender first aid in what he assumed was a warehouse.  Was she a prisoner or somehow part of this trafficking ring Walter had been trying to bust for almost a year? She didn’t seem to be a willing participant in any of this.   

She smiled softly as she looked through her bag at her hip, selecting something else to help stop the blood and clean him up.   Pulling out a small tube, she placed a dab of ointment on her finger.  Getting to her feet, she leaned forward, her face looking up at him where he hung from the ceiling.  He felt her breath on his bruised cheek as she delicately daubed the ointment over the split on his lower lip.  

“Thank you,” he tried softly, his brow puckering at the pain.  

Her smile was brief as suddenly there was the return of foot falls, at least three men, headed back in their direction.  Stuffing her bag again quickly, she squeezed his calf before dashing off into the silent shadows just before the men rounded the corner, the biggest brute of them smiling wide at Walter before flexing his fists.

Follow up here.

General Tag List: @littleone65e65, @mysweetlittledesirettledesire

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen, @used-to-be-bourbonwithice, @hawklin, @geralts-yenn

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

📚 Walter

Astraphobia

Masterlist

A/N: Hi anon! Thanks for the ask! I hope it's okay that it's Walter comforting someone else by telling a bedtime story! A major shoutout to @geralts-yenn for checking this for at least somewhat accurate six-year-old-ness.

(This was written from a promt from this ask game!)

Characters: Walter Marshall, littlebrother!Mikey, OFC

Summary: Walter doesn't have quite the night he had planned on when a thunderstorm scares both his girlfriend and his little brother...

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff. Mention of 'underage'(?) sex (They're both sixteen.) A mom saying a totally un-hilarious, major cringy thing.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren

“Shit,” I groan as I sit up. Outside, the rain is picking up, and I can hear the beginning rumble of thunder in the distance. I look next to me, where I had just managed to get Christina mostly naked. “Get dressed.”

“Why?” she asks. “What’s going on?” It takes absolutely everything I’ve got to ignore what the finger she’s dragging down my back is doing to me.

“Mikey,” I answer bluntly. “There’s a storm coming. He gets scared.” The words are barely out of my mouth before I hear him scream in the other room. Chris and I both scramble to get our clothes back on, finishing in the nick of time, just as there’s a soft knock on the door. I chuckle when I hear it. Since when does this kid know how to knock?

“Hey, little buddy,” I say after opening the door and picking Mike up off the floor. He’s on the verge of crying. Kid really doesn’t like thunder. One look at that trembling bottom lip tells me he’s about to break, so I walk him over to my bed and put him under the covers between me and Chris. It’s cozy, for sure, because this queen-sized bed really isn’t made for three people, even if the third is a tiny one like Mikey. “It’s okay, no need to be scared.”

Never in the history of trying to calm someone down, has the phrase ‘there’s no need to be scared’ actually been helpful, but it’s the only thing I can think of. I look at Chris and pray she’s better at this than I am.

“Come here, cutie,” she says, pulling him closer. It doesn’t seem to calm him down much just yet, but he does snuggle into her arms, which is a good start.

“Bear,” he sobs softly, and I almost fly out of bed. ‘Bear’ is Mikey’s black and white stuffed dog, and he absolutely can’t sleep without it. That does make it fairly easy to retrieve, because it’s going to be on his bed – probably. Yep! Armed with Bear, and Mike’s favorite blanket, I make my way back to my room, careful not to trip over anything in Mike’s room, or the hallway, in the complete dark. It’s definitely a challenge, but he’ll never fall asleep if I turn on a light now.

“Bear is right here, Mikey,” I whisper. The first flash of lightning brightens the room just as he reaches out to grab the plushie. Chris impatiently grabs my hand and pulls me back into bed. “You don’t like the storm, either, do you?”

“No,” she admits, “I hate it.”

“You’re scared, too?” Mikey asks. Just because the tears aren’t flowing now, doesn’t mean they won’t come back, so I don’t pat myself on the back just yet.

“I am,” Chris says softly. I can’t see her face, but it sounds like she’s embarrassed about it.

“I was, too, when I was small,” I tell Mikey.

He gasps. “But… you’re not afraid of anything! You’re not even scared of girls!” I never thought I would find the start of the ‘girls are gross’ phase so funny, but I do.

“Trust me,” I tell him, “I’m plenty scared of girls.” Behind him, Chris snickers – and almost chokes while she’s at it… I really don’t need a second crisis on my hands here. Luckily, Mike is too young to understand the innuendo – at least I really, really hope he is.

Every time thunder or lightning strikes, Mike squeals like a hurt puppy, and Chris squeezes him tighter. The tears don’t come back, though, and I’m really happy he seems to have calmed down at least a little bit. I hate seeing Mikey scared. For a moment, I think we might actually be ready to go to sleep, but then Chris asks a still trembling Mikey if he wants to hear a story. Of course he does! Now, one might have assumed that because Chris was the one to offer, she actually has a story to tell him. She doesn’t. So that falls on me, I guess. Fine.

I toss another pillow behind my bed, so I can sit up a little, pull Mikey on top of me and Chris into my side. The whole thing feels so ridiculously domestic that it should probably scare me at this age – and if I’m being perfectly honest, it kinda does. Plenty scared of girls, remember?

Selecting one isn’t easy to begin with – it can’t be a story they made a Disney movie out of, because Mikey knows those by heart and will interrupt me to point out every mistake he thinks I make. I also have to keep in mind that the kid is already scared, so half of the Grimm-repertoire is out. The first three options I call out, apparently mom has already told him in the past week or something. We finally settle on Rumpelstiltskin – a story I hate for no reason other than that I have told it to him six million times. Now, instead of Mikey pointing out all the errors in my fantastic – if I do say so myself – interpretation, it’s Chris.

“Excuse me, do you want to tell this story, miss ‘I don’t know, you tell him something’?” I’m a little snippy, I know, but it’s the third time she’s interrupted me before I even managed to finish my second sentence.

“No,” she says quickly, ending her answer on a shriek and nestling into my side when lightning flashes again. I continue, and after a while, I can tell Mike is about to fall asleep. He never makes it to the end of bedtime stories. The one thing this kid knows how to do is sleep like a log. It takes a while to get him to settle down enough to actually go to sleep, but once he’s asleep… Soon, I find myself finishing the story for Chris. I’m not sure if she knows that, but I can’t bring myself to stop; she seems to like that I keep talking.

“Thanks, Walter,” she says softly when the story is up, “for not making fun of me.”

“Why would I make fun of you?” I ask. What is she thinking?

“I was every bit as scared as Mikey,” she confesses. It sounds silly, but she’s talking like she committed a crime or something.

“Good thing I was here, then,” I say as I give her a kiss on her forehead before carefully putting Mikey in between us.

“So, did you guys have fun last night?” mom asks without looking up from the food she’s making.

“Yeah,” I groan. Between almost getting pushed out of my bed by Mike and getting kicked in the shins every time Chris was bothered by the storm, I didn’t sleep a wink…

“Quite a storm, huh? Was Mikey okay?” Mom continues. I almost drop the stack of books I’m holding. She knew.

“You… Damn!” I yell. “Did I…” I can’t even finish my sentence, because I’m floating somewhere halfway between angry and impressed, and I don’t know how I want to finish that sentence.

“Did you what? Get cockblocked by your mom? I guess. I’m sorry.” I wince – as any sane person would – when my mom says ‘cockblocked’.

“Trust me, Walt, I hated saying it as much as you hated hearing it,” she laughs, “but the look on your face right now makes it more than worth it…”

[gummydummy19]

He’s so babygirl

[anniefromravenclaw]

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

A/N: New week, new fantasy. Feel free to send me yours.

XxAnnie

You and Walter were sitting in his living room, though he was home he had some work to do. You were reading a book but you couldn’t concentrate at all. You wanted to spend time with him. He didn’t seem to be aware of your presence so you decided to tease him a bit to let him know that you’re still here and you are really horny after a week you almost haven’t seen him. You just put one leg on the sofa and stretched yourself with a quiet humming.

Walter looked you. Great, you got his attention.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s really distracting.” A bit of lust appeared in his ocean blue eyes. Now he can be yours just by one sentence.

“I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.”

“You what?” He swallowed.

“You heard. It’s only up to you, how you deal with it.” You bit your lip without breaking your eye contact.

Within seconds you had him on you, kissing your lips passionately.

“You’re gonna get what you want, Darling. And I guarantee you, you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.” He was whispering to your neck while leaving wet kisses all over. You were stroking his back up and down.

“Let’s see if you were honest with me, Honey pie.” He untied your bathrobe and revealed your body underneath. There was a smirk on his face. He was looking at you with love mixed with hunger and lust. You reached for another kiss, rising your hands to his messy locks.

[geralts-yenn]

Memories - part 1

Walter Marshall x OFC Maxine (second-person pov)

summary: At your brother's wedding you have to face a ghost from your past - Walter Marshall - and you find yourself lost in memories

warnings: 18+, minors DNI! drinking alcohol, vaginal fingering, hand job, protected p-in-v sex

word count: 4,8k

A/N: a little idea that got me out of my writer's block 😍 special thanks to @peyton-warren for being my wonderful beta and @raccoon-eyed-rebel for the constant support ❤️

My masterlist

“Oh, hello! Who’s that guy and why are you not throwing yourself at him?” Your brand-new sister-in-law nudged you in your side and pointed her chin towards a man standing at the bar. You followed her gaze and noticed a pair of wide shoulders under a head of untamed chocolate curls. For a second you weren’t sure, but then the man turned to the side and you cursed. You’d always recognize that dimpled nose, even when he gave his best to hide the rest of his beautiful face under a wild beard. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s Walter fucking Marshall.” Your eyes were rolling in your head furiously. Up to this moment you were praying to all the goddesses in the universe that he would be stopped by a blizzard or whatever would have kept him in Minnesota. But there he was, which meant you had to face him. Something you’ve dreaded ever since your brother told you he’d invite him to his wedding.

Vicky snorted into her champagne flute. “So that’s why Josh never showed me any photos of his most precious childhood companion.” Her eyes were roaming over Walter’s features unashamedly. “He’s delicious. Now I’m really curious why you hate him so much.”

Your prom night should have been the best day of your life. You had been so excited, your friends and you were giggling and cheering for weeks every time you were speaking about what you had planned. After dating Paul for almost a year now, you had promised him to let him get to the fourth base that night. Not just to do him a favor, you were ready. Or so you told yourself. But then the day came and with every minute that passed you got more nervous. Paul had sneaked a flask of liquor into the place and you took a sip, hoping it would loosen you up but it only made you feel more nauseous. 

When you left the party, Paul’s hands kept running up and down your thigh that was revealed by the high slit in your dress. You wanted to tell him to stop, but you couldn’t. You had promised it to him after all. When Paul parked his car at the motel, you were about to vomit. You really, really couldn’t do this. And so you stopped him just as he was about to unlock the door to the room where you were supposed to lose your virginity to him.

You were scared to tell him, and rightfully so. As soon as you had finished explaining, he started yelling. Calling you a frigid whore. You still remember how you thought that this didn’t make any sense. But that night you couldn’t laugh about it. You were shaking and crying when he drove off from the parking lot, leaving you sitting on the sidewalk. The rain starting to fall felt like punishment for your stupid decision. Though you weren't sure yet if your foolishness was to say no or to come here in the first place. Either way you were cold and wet and alone.

What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t call your mom. How would you explain to her that you were in front of a cheap motel instead of your friend Kelly’s house, where you told her you’d spend the night? You couldn’t call Kelly either, she was with Charlie and probably doing exactly what you had planned for tonight. Going through all your friends in your head, you didn’t come up with one name that you dared to tell the truth about what had happened. 

But then it didn’t matter anymore because a car stopped next to you and when the window rolled down you were ready to die of embarrassment. 

“Need a ride?” Walter’s face was hidden in the shadow of a tree, so you couldn’t make out whether he was hiding amusement or showing concern. It didn’t matter anyway. He was your only option to get away from this stupid place, so you nodded and got up. You hadn’t expected Walter to actually get out of the car, but he did. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you to the passenger’s door that he held open for you. 

When he crawled back into the driver’s seat you finally could make out his handsome features. He didn’t look at you, his eyes were glued to the road. You noticed that he was clenching his jaw constantly, his muscles flexing, and the knuckles of his hands were white as he held the steering wheel in a murderous grip. Definitely concern. You were relieved about this. If there was one guy you really cared about what he was thinking about you, it was Walter, your older brother's best friend, the guy you had a crush on since forever. 

“Did that stupid asshole leave you there all alone?” His voice was shaky. He was mad. You nodded with a sniffle. “I’m going to kill him! Did he hurt you?” You were shaking your head, but Walter turned to look at you, his eyes piercing. “Use your words, Max! Did he hurt you? I need you to tell me!” 

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “He didn’t.” It was a whisper but the tension in Walter’s face diminished a little, so you guessed he had heard you. “I told him that I don’t want to do this and he just got a little angry and left.”

Walter grunted through gritted teeth. “A little angry? Max, do you even hear yourself? You’ve got every right to say no and that bastard should have taken it like a man and accepted it. Fuck! I’m so mad, I want to rearrange his face.”

Walter’s anger somehow made you feel better. The way he was protective of you left a warm feeling in your chest. “I appreciate this, Walter, but there’s no need to. I told him to fuck off and never ever try to call me again.”

There wasn't really more to say and you were grateful to Walter for letting you sob in silence and not making this more embarrassing than it already was. 

But then he stopped at a crossing, looking at you. “Can I bring you home? Or do you want to go somewhere else?” His look was a lot softer than earlier, as he studied your face. “I know Charlie has taken Kelly to our cabin. Else I could have let you spend the night there. But you can sleep in my room if that's ok with you. I will take Charlie's. My parents are visiting friends for the weekend.”

The thought of spending the night in Walter's bed got your heart's pace to speed up again. It almost made you laugh. Isn't this what you had dreamt of for years? The crush you had on Walter never really faded, even after you had started dating other guys. But all of this wasn't even nearly the way you had imagined it so many times, laying in bed and picturing Walter's face. Yet, it was your best option right now and so you agreed. 

Walter even asked you if he should change the bedding, but you shook your head firmly, hopefully not revealing how much you wanted to sink into those sheets that held Walter's scent. You were just finished changing for the night, fortunately you had packed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, when Walter knocked on the door. After you answered with a yes, his curly head appeared in the door frame, glancing carefully into the room. 

“I brought you some water.” When he had checked that you were decent and comfortable with him in the room, he took a step forward and put the bottle on his nightstand. “If you need anything, I'm in Charlie's room.” He had already turned to leave, but then you heard yourself calling his name, not knowing what made you do it. And you couldn't believe your next words yourself either.

“Would you stay a little with me? I don't want to be alone.” 

Walter froze in his movements. A small eternity later, he turned to face you. “Are you sure?” 

Ignoring your racing heart, you nodded and rolled to the side of the bed, making space for him to join you.  

Walter moved carefully, almost as if he feared you would change your mind if he startled you. He crawled under the duvet with you and wrapped an arm over your shoulder, his hand stilling at the nape of your neck.

“Comfortable?” he asked you, and you couldn't get out more than a small yes. More comfortable than you had ever been in your life, you thought, but you would rather die than tell him that.

You lay in silence next to each other for what felt like hours, even though it probably wasn't more than a few minutes. Then you finally had gathered enough courage to speak.

“Thank you, Walter. I wouldn't have known what to do without you.” His fingers started to draw little circles over your skin. 

“No need to thank me. I'm glad I found you.” He was staring at you with an intensity that left you completely unable to form any word or even thought. So instead you raised your hand to his face and carefully traced the sharp line of his jaw with your fingers. 

Walter's lips parted ever so lightly, but it was the only sign it took for you. You leaned forward, your nose brushing over Walter's, his warm breath scraping over your skin. Without a second thought, you crossed the last little distance and your mouths found each other. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his warm and soft lips against yours. This was better than everything you could have ever imagined. Walter parted his lips, inviting your tongue to explore and taste him. Butterflies were fluttering through your stomach, you felt like you were floating in midair, as his tongue started dancing with yours. 

Walter’s hands roamed over your back as he deepened the kiss even further. You moaned into his mouth. You had never felt like this. There was this strange tension building in your center that you had never experienced with someone else before and it was shooting straight to that point between your legs. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted his mouth on your skin. You wanted him. So bad. But Walter seemed to hold back. His kiss was not that urgent and consuming any more and his hands stopped whenever they were touching your skin, going back to your clothed shoulders. 

“Please, Walter!” you begged. Your own hands found their way under the hem of his shirt and as you brushed your fingers over his abs, he flinched, accompanied by a groan. You felt the soft tuft of hair that ran down from his stomach into the waistband of his pants. Damn, just minutes earlier you would have been sure that it would be gross to feel this. But now you were clenching your thighs together in an unsuccessful attempt to still your desire to feel something. He was everything you ever wanted and he lay here in your arms right now, grinding his hips against your thighs and pressing kisses onto your neck, making sure you felt how much he wanted this, he wanted you. 

You gladly noticed that his will to resist you crumbled under your touch. He pressed himself against you and you could feel what it did to him, feeling his cock hard against your soft thigh. 

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and brushed your hand over his length, restrained by the fabric of his jeans. 

Walter answered your touch with a sharp breath followed by a grunt. “Fuck! Are you sure you want to do this?” His reaction made you insecure for a tiny moment, but the way he rutted into your palm gave you new courage. 

“I am.” You sounded confident, but Walter wasn't convinced yet. “Promise me that you will tell me if you want me to stop, Max!” You saw the tension in his face as he waited for your answer. Nodding wasn't enough for him, his eyebrows furrowed. “I promise,” you breathed finally. 

After he had heard you, Walter wasn't able to hold back anymore. He grinded his crotch up against you as his hands found their way under your shirt. When his fingertips brushed over your sides, electric shocks ran through your whole body. 

Frantically, both of you tried to remove each other's clothes. Your hands got tangled as you tried to unbutton Walter's jeans. He chuckled and then helped you with the task. 

You swallowed hard when you saw his erection hardly hidden in his boxer briefs. He was a lot. Definitely more than you had ever seen. Not that you were very experienced in the department of hard-ons, but it made you hesitate for a moment. 

Of course, Walter noticed. “Are you okay?” You nodded as you bit back your insecurities and gave him a determined yes. You reached for him, but Walter pushed your shoulders back onto the mattress. His body pressed you down while he was licking and sucking along your neck. Your shirt was in his way as he moved down your collarbone and he gave way just long enough for you to tug it over your head before his mouth was back nipping on your tender skin.

Walter's head sank lower, his face soon buried between your breasts. You felt his lips and tongue move over your chest, leaving a trail of wetness behind that made your skin prickle. 

When his mouth found its destination on one of your hardened nipples and he bit down on it, the sensation shot right to your core. You wouldn't have been able to suppress the lewd sound you made, even if you wanted to. His tongue lapped over the hard bud to soothe the ache but it only made you moan louder. Walter responded to the noises you made by grinding his cock against your thigh. 

All this felt incredibly good. Way better than everything you had ever felt with Paul. When Walter moved to your other breast and treated it in the same passionate way, you pushed the thought of your ex aside. In fact, you just stopped thinking at all and let your instincts take over. Your head fell back as you moaned loudly when Walter pinched your one nipple while sucking on the other. All this wasn’t enough, there was this need between your thighs that made you feel so desperate. Your hand wrapped around Walter's wrist and guided him firmly into your panties. 

“Oh, fuck!” he groaned when his fingers met the wetness that pooled between your legs. He ran his fingers along your slit a few times, gathering your arousal before he switched to rubbing circles around your clit. You bit your lip when he found just the right spot and pressure, only to curse when he left it way too soon. “No, please, this felt so good.” You weren’t even ashamed of begging. You just wanted to feel more of this. 

“Let me make it a little more comfortable?” Walter asked you as he tugged on the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips and he made quick work of rolling your underwear down your legs. Your knees fell to the side, opening up for him. And Walter was eager to get back, his fingers now moving with even more skill through your folds and around your bundle of nerves. His mouth was back on yours now, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting into your mouth and swirling around yours the same way as his fingers were now circling your entrance. 

You rolled your hips in response, showing him to move on, to finally give your aching pussy something to clench around. And Walter obeyed your silent pleas, pushing one of his fingers into you in a painfully slow movement. He was not just pumping into you, he was exploring you, inch by inch, feeling for every spot that evoked a reaction from you. And when he found what he was looking for, when you arched your back, crying out, he curled his lips into a smile and he added a second finger. You noticed the stretch, but it felt good, the way he pressed against your walls exactly where you wanted him.

Now he started to thrust his fingers into you in a steady rhythm. You moved your hips against him, fucking his fingers. Walter’s other hand held your jaw firmly as he devoured your mouth, swallowing all the sounds that wanted to pass your lips. You felt the tension building in your core, spreading through your body. “Please, I’m close!” you whimpered, Walter answered with increasing pressure against your sweet spot and you snapped. Waves of pleasure ran through your body. You were a shaking mess in Walter’s arms.

“Shush, I got you!” he whispered in your ear, pressing kisses along your neck. He held you close until your soul was finally back in your body. And you couldn’t help it, you weren’t able to suppress the stupid giggles. Walter grinned down at you. “What?” he just asked, with the smug confidence of someone who knew exactly what he had done to you. “This was good!” you told him with a wide smile.

You continued with kissing and hands roaming over each other’s bodies. But the hard cock pressing against you reminded you that Walter hadn’t gotten nearly the attention that you got from him until now and you really wanted to change this. You brushed a finger up his length until you were at the waistband of his boxers. Your thumbs dug into it and carefully pushed it down to free his cock. 

Your hand wrapped around his length and you found yourself surprised at how soft the skin felt over his hard flesh. Slowly you started to stroke him. Your thumb ghosted over the tip of his cock and Walter let out a sharp hiss in response. Your eyes shot up to him, fearing you had hurt him, but the expression on his face told you had done quite the opposite. He had his eyes closed and his lips parted and when your hand started moving up and down his length again, he bit down on his lower lip. Seeing him like this made you all weak in the knees and you drank in the sight of it. Your pumps got more hasty now in the attempt to make it feel better for him, but that made Walter’s hand reach for you and stop you. “Wait!” He immediately saw the panic flashing over your face and he tried to chase it off by kissing you softly. “It’s just a little too dry. But we can change this.” 

He had his hand already reaching out to his nightstand when you took it and guided it between your legs. “I know a place where it’s not too dry.” Walter cursed at your suggestion. His chest was heaving. “Baby, do you really want to do this?” His voice was deep and raspy. His constant check-ins half annoyed you, half melted your heart. “You already made me promise, Walter. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t suggest it.” To make your point clear, you steered his fingers through your wet folds and he moaned as he felt the slick at your entrance. Walter swallowed and then moved to sit on his heels. “Okay then.” He couldn’t hide his nervousness in his shaky voice, and it was relieving to know that you were not alone with your excitement. He rummaged through the drawer of his bedside table until he held a condom and a bottle of lube in his hands. He rolled the condom over his dick and spread some lube over it. You watched him pumping his sheathed cock a few times, your heart almost breaking through your chest. So this was really happening.

Walter moved to settle between your legs, holding his weight on one elbow as his other hand guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. His eyes locked with yours, a last reassuring that you wanted him, and then you felt him enter you. The feeling took your breath away, it was overwhelming. You had expected to feel pain, but there was merely a small stinging that ebbed away immediately. Slowly Walter pushed deeper, until he was buried completely in you. He was looking at you with an expression you had never seen before. Something deep and vulnerable. His chest was heaving as he hovered over you. “Breathe!” he whispered and you obeyed, taking in a deep breath as Walter started to move. You whimpered as you felt him deep inside of you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you, concerned, but you just smiled. “No, it feels unfamiliar, but in a very good way. Keep going.” And so Walter started, retreating from you and thrusting back in. It was amazing, it made you scream, nothing had you prepared for feeling this way. It was heaven. And it must have been the same for Walter. He lost his rhythm, now slamming his hips desperately into you. You loved how vocal he was, grunting with every stroke. And then he threw back his head with a loud growl and you felt his hips shudder as he reached his climax. 

He pulled out of you, carefully, not to lose the condom. You felt empty without him and the kiss he pressed so firmly on your lips could barely make up for it. He held you in his arms as you both gasped for air. But when your breathing was almost back to normal, he left your side. “Just a minute. I need to take care of this.” He made a vague gesture toward his softening cock that was still covered by the condom.It took him only a minute until he was back in bed with you. “I’m sorry.” he said and you weren’t sure what he meant until his fingers were parting your lips and rubbing circles over your clit. “Let me make up for it, okay?” he asked you. You moaned but then held his hand in place. “You don’t have to do that, Walter.” you told him. And you meant it. All that you had felt with him tonight was better than you had ever imagined.“But I want to.” He resumed his ministrations between your legs. “I want you to feel good, too.” Another shaky breath later, you were able to answer him. “You already did that.” Walter smiled as he pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Another one surely won’t hurt.”

*****

You were sitting in the kitchen, making up your mind how long it would take you to walk back home. Too long. But did you have any other choice? Just as you were about to get up and head back home, you heard keys in the door and a few seconds later, Walter’s little brother was standing in the room looking at you confused. 

“Hi Charlie! Would you please drive me home?” He blinked at you and scratched his head. “Do you want to talk about it?” he just asked, probably running through all the possible scenarios how you ended up at his home early in the morning. But fortunately, he let go of it as you shook your head. So you had at least a little part of dignity left in his presence until Walter had time to fill him in about his last night’s conquest.

That afternoon, you found Walter standing on your porch when you were on your way to meet Kelly. “Josh isn’t home,” you told him indifferently, not even slowing down as you passed him. You had ignored all his calls and the messages he had sent. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to talk to you. To act as if he cared. Seeing him wouldn’t change this. Though it made it impossibly hard. It was just unfair how handsome he was. And when you looked into his face, he almost appeared to be sad. But you knew better, he was just tired of you already. 

His hand wrapped around your wrist as he stepped in your way. “Maxine, stop acting like nothing had happened. We need to talk.” You rolled your eyes at him and tried to free from his grip. Walter let go of your hand with a sigh. 

“Don’t make this bigger as it was, Walter.” you told him, rubbing your wrist as if his touch had burnt your skin. “We’ve been having fun, that’s it. Can we go on with our lives now?” You couldn’t even convince yourself with your words, but that was never the plan. You had to keep Walter away from you. Getting your heart broken by him was more than you could bear, so you decided to run before it was too late. 

Walter was shouting after you as you stormed down the steps. “Let me take you on a date! Give me a chance, Max!” A heavy weight pooled in your stomach as you heard it. This was all you ever wanted. But you were way too scared to act on it. Just thinking of your night with him almost broke you. How would it be to have more precious moments with him and then losing it all? Because that’s what was supposed to happen. He’d go back to college and find someone else. In no way could he ever be truthfully interested in you.

You had to turn him down a few more times. Later you started ignoring him just completely. That didn’t stop him. He gave you his damn puppy eyes and tried to talk to you. So you started to be mean to him. You said stupid things you didn’t mean, just to keep him away. And after a while it worked. The looks he gave you had changed. They were filled with anger and frustration now. And soon you found yourself hating each other. Initially, you weren’t sure if you just pretended to feel so, but after a while you had convinced yourself that this was what you felt for him. You hated looking at his stupidly gorgeous face, you hated his voice, the jokes he made, the way he was strutting, as if the world belonged to him. You hated that all the girls lay at his feet, acting as if he hung the moon. You hated him.

And Walter hated you. His jokes always went against you. He mocked every one of your life decisions. He laughed about every single thing you did.

And then he moved away. And somehow it almost felt like you missed him. And that made you hate him even more.

“I guess you never told Josh about that night?” Vicky smiled at you with amusement. She loved hearing about dramas like that. But you couldn’t be mad at her. It had been such a long time. It should be a funny story to tell by now. Yet, it still hurt to think about it. You never managed to get over that heartache. Well, that’s just how it is when your heart gets broken for the first time in your life, right?

“You know, you should have talked to him.” Vicky told you and you looked at her quizzically. “Who, Josh? No! He would have killed Walter. Or me. Probably both of us.” 

Vicky chuckled but shook her head. “Not Josh. Walter! You should have been honest with him about your feelings.”

You sighed. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about it. To be fair, you have asked yourself the same questions every day ever since. Should you have told him? Would it have been a bad idea to let him take you on a date? Would you two have had a chance? But it didn’t matter because you didn’t let him. And you would never know what could have been if you had decided differently back then, when you were eighteen and so much in love and so incredibly stupid.

Your sister-in-law watched you with narrowed eyes as you sat there thinking about your past with Walter. “It doesn’t matter, Vicky. We’re not teenagers anymore. It’s too late for that now.” 

But she shook her head. “It’s never too late. He’s here. You can tell him now.”  

A ridiculous voice in your head told you that she was right. That all it took was to take a step towards him and see what would happen. But you shook it off.

Part 2

[eccentricallygothic]

Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 

Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.

. . . 

After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.

You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 

So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 

But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.

Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 

It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.

And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.

“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 

“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.

 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.

“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 

“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.

MASTERLIST

. . . 

I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—

[peyton-warren]

Blazed and Blazing

Characters: Walter Marshall, OCs Fandoms: Night Hunter, Henry Cavill characters Word count: 139 Type: angsty, fluffy. Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. police raid gone horribly wrong. mention of injury. Summary: Follow up to Arresting and Arrested, Walter surveys the outcome of a SWAT raid on a warehouse where people were supposedly being trafficked to save Walter. A quick drabble. Author's Note: Un-betaed. Let me know if you'd like to see another part to this. Ask Box: Open Masterlist

“Are you positive??” Walter growled at the SWAT officer in charge of the scene.  The beaten detective stood with his hands in his curls on either side of his head, elbows extended as he watched the warehouse burn. His eyes were transfixed on the bright light of the fire against the inky background of the night’s sky, ignoring the EMT trying to tend to his wounds. 

“Yeah, Marshall. We swept the whole place before the explosion.  There’s no one in there.  This isn’t where they were holding the women.”

Walter barely heard the other officer, too busy scanning for a sign of the woman who had tended to his injuries, brought him water between beatings. She had to have been in there.  SWAT must have missed her somehow.  And now she was likely dead.  And it was his fault.

General Tag List: @littleone65 @mysweetlittledesire @jvanilly @identity2212 @avengersfan25 @foxyjwls007 @ellethespaceunicorn HC Tag List: @m07belzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin @geralts-yenn @summersong69 Others who may want to see this due to interest in previous chapter: @sillyrabbit81, @littlefreya @adulting-sucks @lizzystuffsthings @deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Worth it

Masterlist

A/N: More fluff? More fluff! Based off this horrible little shitpost from yesterday. So here we have 16 y/o Walter, and his 10-ish year younger, annoying baby brother Mikey. God help me, what have I become?

Characters: Walter Marshall, littlebrother!Mikey, OFC

Summary: Walter is babysitting his little brother Mikey while their mom is away for the weekend. He's also on a date...

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluff. Vague hint at 'underage'(?) sex (They're both sixteen.)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 (I'm almost sorry to bother y'all with this)

“Walter! Walter, look!” The only thing I can do is glare at the little kid jumping around the room. My date is already distracted by the unruly projectile that is my baby brother. She was seconds away from kissing me, for fuck’s sake.

“Oh my god! Is that your little brother?” Oh, fuck no! Not again. The little bastard always does this. Whenever I have a girl over, Mike just has to swoop in and steal the show. They all think he’s adorable. And they’re not wrong, but they’re also not stuck with him every goddamn day.

“Yeah,” I growl. “Mikey, you’re supposed to be in bed. Get lost.”

“I can’t sleep!” Of course he can’t. You need to sit still for longer than thirty seconds to be able to sleep, and Mikey just can’t do that. It also may or may not be slightly before his bedtime on weekends, but I just want the couch and the TV – and Christina – to myself for a few hours.

“Mike, for fuck’s sake! Come on, back to bed!” It’s a good thing mom is not here to hear that language, because I’d be in trouble. In fact, I'm always in trouble. I'm already banned from going out tonight because mom decided I'd make a fine – free – babysitter. She usually pays me to watch her youngest spawn – of Satan – but there was a homework mishap again – Mike’s doing – and trouble at school means trouble at home. Did I blame the kid? No. He’s my little brother. My annoying, obnoxious, and right now; cock-blocking, little brother.

“No!” Of course not. Because why would this little rat listen to me so I can have a quiet evening with my girlfriend? Who the fuck knows.

“Mike, seriously, get the fuck out of here! Chris, hold on a minute.” I get off the couch to chase after Mikey, but he’s fast.

“Walter,” Chris says as she turns the TV off. It’s a good thing she has the common sense to do that, because that movie was not suitable for a six year old kid. “He’ll get tired.”

“Neveeeeeer!” Mikey says as he runs past her. He’s just doing laps around the living room now.

“He means that.” I slump back on the couch, next to Christina. “Mikey, can you stop screaming, please? And go back to bed.” This kid is exhausting. And he hasn’t even been here for five minutes. He stops running right in front of Chris.

“He wants to kiss you. That’s why I have to go sleep.” The little snitch.

“Is that so?” Chris laughs and looks at me, I can’t do anything other than just shrug. She’s not stupid, she knows I’d be happy to do more than hold hands on this damn couch.

“It’s the weekend. I can stay up until nine.” Chris gives me another look.

“That’s not tr...”

“Walter Marshall, you are a terrible liar!”

“Mum was supposed to take him to grandma!” It’s a weak excuse for sending your baby brother off to bed well before his bedtime, I know that. But I just wanted a few hours to make out with my hot girlfriend, is that so wrong?

Chris quickly covers Mikey’s ears. “Your mom is gone until tomorrow, right? I wouldn’t worry about curfew: My folks are out of town and I’ll happily stay a little longer...” She hesitates for a moment. “Or… Stay the night? But be nicer to your brother, that would really help your case right about now.” I shoot Chris an apologetic grin while I rub the back of my neck. I probably shouldn’t have tried to lock my baby bro away. And he is quite the little charmer, most girls I bring home – there have been like three in the past two years, settle down – love him to bits. He’s a carbon copy of me when I was his age, and not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was fucking adorable. So is Mike. He’s bouncier, though. And impatient, and hyperactive, and loud. Very loud.

“Hey, Mikey, do you want to watch a movie with us?” I say. Yeah, he’ll be in bed a little late, but if it wins me some brownie points with Chris right now...

“Can we watch the Lion King?” And he’s jumping again. Fantastic.

“No, we can’t watch the Lion King,” I say sternly. Not unless we want him to keep running for another hour.

“Why can’t we watch the Lion King, Walter?” Now Chris is the one pouting at me with sad puppy eyes. In fact, both of them are now pouting at me with sad puppy eyes. This is a nightmare.

“Because,” I say as I grab Mike off the floor and put him on the couch, “the songs make him all hyper.” Chris seems to accept that as a valid enough reason.

“How about Ice Age?” The look on Mikey’s face is a very clear ‘yes’.

“Oh, I love Ice Age!” Chris says. Her voice is genuine, as is her smile. She crawls onto the chaise and gets comfortable with a blanket.

“Can I sit with the pretty girl?” Mike doesn’t wait for an answer and just crawls over the couch towards her until he’s in her lap.

I grab some drinks – Chris is smart enough to ask for water, because the first thing Mike yells is: “I want some too!” – and make myself comfortable on the couch a solid Mike-width away from Chris. I manage to still put an arm around her shoulder, although Mikey is trying very hard to push me away. It’ll be fine. He gets snuggly when he gets tired – and he honestly can’t keep this up for that much longer.

“Hey, stop pushing your brother,” Chris says. It’s a fucking miracle, but he actually stops and looks at her.

“What’s your name?” He asks her. Oh she’s falling for those big blue eyes, I can just see it happening.

“Chris,” she says.

“That’s a boy’s name!” Mike laughs.

“It’s not a boy’s name, it’s my name. And it’s short for Christina,” she explains patiently. It’s the kind of patience I have with him on vacations, when I don’t have homework or girls or ice hockey to worry about.

“Christina is a pretty name!” Mike says. That, and forty more things before the opening credits of the movie are through.

He doesn’t make it past the first half with the chatter, though, and just before the end, he’s curled up in Chris’ lap – fast asleep.

Mom comes home just as I have to leave for my hockey game.

“Thanks, Walter,” she says, and I silently thank her for staying out overnight. I head off as fast as possible, because I’m going to be running late if I don’t. Chris is coming with me. She’s already waiting in her car – supposedly to pick me up, but the truth is that her car never left the driveway. It’s a quiet drive, with a couple of awkward flirty smiles as we both remember last night.

We even win the game. That’s an understatement: we demolish the other guys. This is starting to look like a really great weekend! Chris kisses me goodbye when she drops me off back home, and it fucking takes my breath away. I walk into the kitchen ready to tell mom everything about the game, when I hear Mikey’s voice right as I stroll around the corner.

“...and then this morning she made me pancakes!”

“This morning?” Mom asks, and I wish the ground would disappear from beneath my feet. “Mikey, baby, go watch TV.” Mike immediately gets up and disappears into the living room. Mom shuts the door behind him.

“Walter Marshall, you are in some serious shit,” she hisses.

Eh. Worth it.

[lainiespicewrites]

Hi friends!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tumblr tag list

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

[viking-raider]

🎃 Bumps in the Night 🎃

Summary-> You're home alone on Halloween Night and things are acting up around the house.

Pairing-> (You'll find out in the fic)/Reader

Word Count-> 2.7k

Warnings-> PG: Cotton Candy Fluff, Language, Suspense, Scares

Inspiration-> Halloween and Muse agreeing with one another.

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You were all curled up on the couch, in a darkened home, a pillow clutched in your arms and your eyes glued to horror on the flickering tv screen.

It was Halloween night and you were binging through your favorite horror movies. Usually, you’d have a few friends or your boyfriend over to join the scarefest with you. Watching the Saw movies, followed by the Silent Hills with loads of popcorn and a glass of wine or two. Only taking breaks to refill the candy bowl outside the door, so the neighborhood kids wouldn’t get into mischief against you for not supplying their sugar addiction. But your friends had other plans for the night and your boyfriend was held up with work.

So, it was just you this year.

That was okay, you’d make them all RSVP for Christmas.

You were forty-five minutes deep into Silent Hill 2, when something struck your front door, sending your heart out of your body, like a NASA Rocket, and under the covers in your bedroom upstairs. Swallowing it back down into your chest, you blindly reach for the remote to pause the movie and unfold yourself from the sofa; heading for the entryway.

“Christ, I hope they didn’t egg or toilet paper the front porch.” You mumbled under your breath, pushing up on your toes to peek out the peep-hole; but saw nothing out of sorts. “Hmm.” You grabbed the stash of candy you had by the door and stepped out onto the pouch. “Those heathens.” You growled, finding the remnants of an egg; the clear albumen and runny yoke with bits of broken shell slowly seeping down the mocha-colored wood.

“I should just confiscate the candy bowl!” You barked out into the dark, meeting the eye of every trick-or-treater that walked by on the sidewalk; but filled the bowl nonetheless, feeling bad for punishing the innocent ones.

Going back inside and securing the door, you headed into the kitchen, tucking the empty candy bag into the recycling and pulling another chilled cooler out of the fridge. You stood there for a moment, sipping it and considering if you wanted to order takeaway or pop something in the oven for dinner, as the loudest bang came from the dining room. Drawing a startled scream from your lips. Stumbling towards the entry connecting the living room to the kitchen, your cooler nearly slipping from between your trembling fingers, your eyes were locked on the opposite side of the kitchen, to the entry leading into the dining room. It was just a portal of darkness, like most of the house. The only light was from your paused horror movie, casting light against your back, and only helped your brain find trick shadows in the blackness.

Your throat was tight with fear, you set your wine on the edge of the first counter you could find and continued to back out of the kitchen and into the living room. Dashing around the couch to grab your phone, the moment you were close enough, and dialing your go-to number.

“Hey, babes.” Your boyfriend’s excited voice picked up on the other end.

“Oh my god! Oh christ!!” You blurted out, bouncing on your toes.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“I think someone’s in the house.” You whined, biting your lip with your eyes panning in every direction.

“Are you sure?” He asked, concerned and agitated.

“There was a loud noise in the dining room.” You told him, antsy.

“Did you go look?”

“GO LOOK!” You snapped out at him, outraged, but quickly gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth, collecting yourself. “Are you crazy? That’s how people get murdered!” You told him, whispering loudly.

His side of the line filled with chest rumbling, amused laughter.

“Why are you laughing!” You scolded him, moving from scared to angry. “Someone could be in the house, trying to rob and/or kill me!”

“Baby, how many horror movies have you watched tonight?” He asked, through his fit of giggles.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead, starting to feel silly. “All the Hills Have Eyes, the IT movies, Don’t Breathe, and now, I’m on the second Silent Hill.” You confessed.

“All alone in the dark.” He said, matter-of-factly. “Maybe I should have taken this work thing off and stayed home with you.” He mumbled to himself.

“No, I’m fine.” You said, shaking your head and steeling yourself. “You’re right, I’m just over hyping myself. I’m sure it’s something stupid and explainable.”

“I’m sure it is, love.” He agreed, his voice soft and loving.

“I’ll let you off.” You sighed, glancing back at your unfinished movie. “I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow?”

“Obviously.” He chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hanging up, you clutched your phone in your hand before deciding to brave the dining room to find out what had almost sent you to an early grave. Turning on your phone’s light and hugging it against your chest, you tiptoed through the kitchen and pressed yourself against the wall beside the doorway, taking a moment to maximize your courage, before flashing your phone into the space. You had hoped to blind whoever could be hiding in there, gaining an upper hand, before jumping out of your hiding place and into the dining room. But there was no one there, shielding their poor blinded eyes. You couldn’t spot anything out of place either. All the chairs were pushed neatly into the table, the book shelves against the walls were right and their contents in their rightful places.

“What the fuck.” You cursed, rounding the table twice, looking for any explanation, even underneath it.

Nothing.

You pressed a hand to the side of your face, at a loss. “I’m losing my mind.” You decided, shrugging and going back into the living room. “Out of my damn mind, Pyramid Head.” You told the eerie figure on the screen, popping down on the couch, appetite completely forgotten about. “Whatever.” You sighed, pressing play on the movie and tried settling back in.

Silent Hill was almost over and you had finally relaxed again, when yet another bump sounded through the house. This time from upstairs. You flew off the couch and all but ran out of the house, toes barely touching the floor as you went.

“Crap, crap, crap!” You panicked, pacing the foyer, heart thudding against your chest like some cartoon character. You yelped at the sudden sound of your phone going off, but didn’t go for it, where it still sat on the couch cushion. The upstairs between you and it. “Christ alive!” You growled, skittering sideways through the dining room, bolted through the kitchen and all but dived for your phone.

“Yes?” You hissed, kneeling between the couch and coffee table.

“Hey baby.” Your boyfriend’s voice replied cheerfully, but faded. “Did I scare you?” He asked, hearing the panicked terror in your voice.

“No.” You snapped at him, testily.

“Honey, why don’t you call the Horror-thon short for the night? You’re clearly spooking the life out of yourself. I’d hate to come home to you all sleep deprived and paranoid, cause you were too stubborn to call it.”

“It’s a tradition.” You argued with him.

“I know it is. But this is the second call we’ve had that you’re terrified over something; be it something in the house or just the sound of the phone ringing.”

Or something else in the house! You thought, glancing up at the ceiling.

“How about this, when I get home, we’ll do the Horror-thon together. I’ll get us our favorite takeaway and everything for it.”

You wanted to argue with him. You didn’t need him to be there as a safety buddy, so you wouldn’t be afraid of the dark. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of. They were just horror movies, actors acting things out. But something was making noises in the house with you. You were sure of it. But you did like the idea of having a horror date night with your boyfriend.

“All right.” You sighed, conceding. “I’ll turn it off.” You felt around for where the remote disappeared to, pressing your hand between the couch cushions for it, brow creasing in frustration. “I swear, I’m going to super glue an AirTag to this damn remote.” You growled under your breath, turning towards the coffee table.

Your boyfriend chuckled in your ear. “That would make finding it easier.”

Pushing aside empty candy wrappers and empty wine coolers, you came up empty for the remote. “Where did I put this dam-” The TV flickered off, plunging the living room, and you, into darkness. “Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, frozen in place, eyes locked on the deactivated screen.

“Babe?”

“The tv turned off…on its own.” You told him, voice thick.

“Did you accidentally hit the remote?” He asked, his voice trying to guard his concern.

“Pretty sure I didn’t.”

“Go, look out the patio window, see if the neighborhood lost power or something.”

Nodding, you pulled yourself up onto your feet and crossed to the sliding glass window leading out to the backyard. Peeking out to the houses on either side of you, you could see lights on in their windows and back yards and a couple street lamps in the neighborhood over. A cold chill ran down your spine, everyone around you had power.

“Well?” Your boyfriend asked expectantly.

“They have power.” You whispered softly, slightly trembling.

“All right, love. Why don’t you go to my place?” He suggested, his voice calm.

“I think I like that idea.” You agreed, turning sharply on your heels and heading towards the door, forgetting everything else in the house, except your keys, which weren’t on the hanger by the door. “They’re not there.” You whimpered, every bit of resolve and bravery you had seeping out of your body.

“What’s not there?”

“My keys.” You answered, your voice high-pitched.

“Did you leave them in your purse?” He asked, hoping to instill some of his soothing tone into you.

You turned around and looked up the stairs, gulping thickly. “It’s very possible.”

“Okay, grab it.”

Easy for you to say!

“Yeah, grab it.” You echoed back, taking a deep breath and mounting the stairs. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He answered, chuckling softly.

You teetered at the top of the stairs, glancing at the hallway bathroom and the guest room, then down the great length of the hallway to your master bedroom. It never seemed so far away since you lived there. Digging deep, you grasped the last bit of courage you found and hurried down the hall for it, diving inside and closing the door for extra measure.

“Give me a second, I need my flashlight.” You told him, too scared to turn the bedroom light on. You used your phone light to guide yourself around the room for your purse, finding it on a chair beside the closet. Your hands shook as you rummaged through your purse. “Come on, come on!” You hissed, bouncing on your toes, impatient.

I’ve gotta clean this thing out!

“Ah-ha!” You laughed, hand closing around your car’s fob, feeling a rush of victory go through you, only for loud steps to fill the hallway outside, like someone running towards the door. But they stopped short and you froze in place, waiting for the door to open and your tormentor to show themselves.

“Babe?” Your boyfriend called through the phone still clutched in your shaking hand, but you were too deer in the headlights to answer him calling your name.

Your door didn’t open, but one of the other doors upstairs slammed with such force the floor rattled. Whoever this was, was having a crack at your expense before they finally stopped tormenting you.

“Get out of the house!” Your boyfriend’s voice yelled through your paralyzed fog, having heard the door slam through your connection and activating your fight or flight mode.

“I’m going!” You snapped, rushing out the door and into the hall, knowing they were between you and the stairs, but you were ready to throw hands if you needed to, to get by. “Ha!” You giggled manically, making it to the stairs, feeling triumphant, until you reached the second step and felt an arm snake around your waist, picking you clear off your feet.

You let out a squealing scream, arms and legs flailing, a huge hand clamping over your mouth; cutting off any more screams or noises you could make to alert the neighbors or people coming up to the house for candy of your danger. You felt your intruder’s chest vibrate as they held you against their body, a laugh bubbling past their lips at your terror.

“You’re so easy to scare.” They teased into your ear.

Eyes flaring, your fright was replaced with shocked anger and you bit down on their palm, forcing them to let go with a surprised hiss. “HENRY!!” You yelled, turning around to shove your boyfriend in the chest and stomping your foot, outraged. “It’s been you all night!”

Henry grinned at you, apologetic mischief on his face. “Yeah.” He nodded, feeling bad about tormenting you the whole time.

“Work thing?”

“Mmm…” He shrugged, bashfully. “I fibbed. It was just an excuse for you to think I was gone and wasn’t probably in on pranking you.”

“Do you know how many heart attacks you gave me tonight!” You demanded, poking him in the chest. “You egged my front door!”

“Oh no, that egg wasn’t me.” He admitted, biting the corner of his lip. “That was Trevor, next door. I may have paid him a week ago to toss it tonight, at a specific time, to get things rolling.”

“I’m going to kill both of you.” You declared, nodding, then punched him in the chest again. “You’re such an ass!”

Henry laughed, folding you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry, love.” He chuckled, swaying gently. “I couldn’t help it, just this once. It was so perfect, with you all alone and stuff. Or at least you thought you were.”

“How did you turn the tv off?” You asked, cocking your head back to look at him.

Henry pulled his phone out from his back pocket and showed you the remote control app he had for your smart tv. “I debated changing the channels on you and stuff, but I didn’t want to muck with you too much.”

“The noise in the dining room?”

“I dropped your leather bound copy of War and Peace, then returned it to the shelf, before going back upstairs.” He explained, with no small amount of pride.

“Footsteps?”

He laughed, cupping your face in his hands. “I was just going to sneak up on you, when you were looking for your keys. Which I moved from the hook by the door to your purse, while you were checking to see if the neighborhood lost power. But you closed the bedroom door, so I just ran up to the door and quietly went back to the half bath, where I’ve been hiding. Then you know what happened after that.”

“How did you even get into the house, while I wasn’t looking?”

“That was what the egg was for. While you were dealing with that, I slipped into the house through the slider, and just tip-toed around you.”

“That’s pretty impressive for a man your size.” You complimented him, impressed with how thought out Henry had made this. “I really hate you though. That was so mean, Hen.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, kissing you sweetly. “I’ll make up for it. How about some takeaway and Saw?”

“Takeaway, yes. But I think I’m done with all things horror and scary for now.” You informed him, pressing your forehead to his chest.

“Fair.” Henry smiled, kissing you once more.

Calmed down and torment over, the two of you went downstairs, ordering food and turning on a Rom-Com to finish the rest of your Halloween night, curled up together on the sofa; without another bump or thump in the night.