Warnings:Non-Con,dark, smut, breeding, bondage, cream pie, biting, discussion of body fluids, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex.
Authors Note: Okay, this Drabble is not like my regular fics. This was a palate cleanser for me: a little change of pace, tone and subject (and character!). I had written a couple of paragraphs of this months ago and saw it in my drafts and thought, why not? It is what it is.
Thanks to @henryobsessed for beta reading and corrections.
He may be the alpha. He may bow to no one. He may rule them all.
But you rule him.
You know it instinctively.
You know it by the way he fights as his wolf takes over. The way he mumbles his apologies as he tears the clothes from your body and the tender way he handles you as he ties you to the bed. You know it by the way he nuzzles at your neck and the scent he gives off as he examines your body. You know it by the way he whimpers when he catches the first scent of your arousal, and by the way he gnars when you twist against your bound wrists and ankles.
He’s between your legs, lapping at you, drinking from you, imbibing your humiliating desire for him.
He growls, caws, and grunts as he gives you his all, trying to win you over. He wants you to relent, for you to allow him to come to you freely like you once had.
His breath is hot and humid, his tongue rough and wet. His bites are gentle nibbles and he pushes you to the brink. You screech and he brays, grinning and watching with delight as he makes you shatter.
“Walter, please,” you implore, “Stop.”
He climbs you over you, shaking his head, his lust cannot wait, though you see the shame in his eyes.
“Need,” he rumbles.
He knows what he is, he knows what you think of him as he takes you like this. But he can’t stop the urges, the ancient itch that scratches without cessation at what is left of his mind.
He fills you, tears you, stretches you, around his brutal girth, howling with rapture as your bodies fuse.
He’s so gone, so swept away in the moment that he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You feel it between your legs and you tighten around him. You wail, crying his name as you implore him to stop. But Walter isn’t there anymore, his blue eyes are now a vacant black as he begins to rut.
Barbaric, primitive, and feral is his mating, as if his goal is to rip you apart. You had thought you’d be used to it by now, this monthly cycle, he had assured you you would be.
He clings to you, wrapping his arms around you, licking at your neck as if he is your lover not your violator.
He feels the moment you yield, the moment you submit to him and your lamentation becomes supplication. Your hips drive to meet his, your hands grasp at the ropes pulling on them for purchase instead of escape.
He howls as you tighten around him, watches your face as your control shatters. He follows you into ecstasy. With a deep and guttural garr, he releases his seed deep within you.
He holds you when he’s done, licking at your wounds, murmuring his love, seeking forgiveness.
He stays buried within your core for as long as he can, keeping his offering inside. When he falls out he spreads your legs wider, reverently gathering his leaking emission on his finger and restores it to its rightful place.
He wants to breed, and inexplicably at this moment you want it too. You don’t fight as he lays an arm across your belly keeping you still, keeping his potential for offspring alive.
You don’t know how long he waits, how long he takes to recover, but you aren’t surprised when you feel his tongue on you again, lapping at your centre, driving you again to your peak. It doesn’t take long, you come again, and you feel him hard at your centre. As he breaches your defences again, you wonder how many times he will do this, and you find you never ever want it to stop.
Summary:You just moved to a new city to start a new job. At a party, you meet Detective Walter Marshall without knowing he’s your future colleague.
Word count: ca. 3.1k
Warnings:fluff, hinted oral sex if you squint, mentions of alcohol, mentions of homicide (no details). The following parts will require more warnings. Just getting started!
A/N:This story is about a new beginning and how you can get in your own way sometimes. It’s also a story about arriving and two people finding each other.
As far as I can tell right now, it will be an angsty-smutty-fluffy ride and I’d be thrilled if you joined me!
Not beta’d, and English is not my native language, so you’d better be prepared for mistakes. Thank you so much for reading!! Feedback means the world to me, and I’d love to hear what you think!
A content sigh leaves your lips when you put four books on the shelf. Almost there! Your gaze roams the living room as you disassemble the last moving box. Finally, countless boxes are unpacked, your stuff neatly stowed away in the closets and shelves of your new apartment, except for two boxes with winter clothes you won’t need for the next months.
You arrived here three days ago to start over. Again. One might assume you’re used to new beginnings because moving from one city to another was a part of your childhood since… Since that day.
For each beginning bears a special magic that nurtures living and bestows protection. You can still hear your mother’s voice, reciting Hermann Hesse every time you had to move again. There’s some truth in those words, for sure. But in your case, every beginning also meant leaving beloved people behind and meeting new neighbors, colleagues, and other people you may stumble across. And you’ll probably never get used to either. You’re not terribly shy around new people, you never were, but making friends as an adult seems much harder than making friends as a kid. Not to speak about maintaining friendships across thousands of miles and different timezones.
You’re all the more thankful you’re not completely alone here. A smile spreads across your face as you look at one of the numerous picture frames on the wall. One photo shows Mike and you at your college graduation ceremony, arm in arm, grinning proudly. The next picture was taken only seconds after the first one; your faces contorted in goofy grimaces. You met him on the first orientation day, and you became friends almost right away. After completing your paralegal studies, both of you became law enforcement transcriptionists. You spent the next decade working for different transcription companies as you moved from one place to another with your family. Mike moved to this city right after college to start working for the homicide division of the local police department, and he has been here ever since.
When you talked to him on the phone three months ago, you mentioned you desperately needed a change. A change from the city you lived in back then. A change from living with your family. Of course, you love your mother and your siblings to death, and you’ll gladly support them anytime, but living with them seemed to suffocate you more and more. Long story short, Mike had put in a good word for you with his boss, and you will be colleagues in two days. You’re hired to transcribe interrogations and witness statements, mostly recordings, sometimes live.
The thought about Monday makes your stomach feel like it’s in a knot. It’s not that you’re excessively worried about your skills. You know, you’re both qualified and experienced and you have dealt with several homicide cases before. Yet, this will be the first job where every case will be a homicide. Every case will have a victim and a murderer who are someone’s child, maybe someone’s parent, sibling, friend, spouse or lover. You will listen to those people telling their version about the end of the victim’s life, and you will write their stories down. You already know some of these cases will haunt you and keep you awake at night.
But one step after another. You shake your head, smiling when you realize this is also something your mother says quite a lot. And more often than you’d like, she’s right.
You look at your phone, muttering a curse when you see how late it is. Mike and his fiancée Sarah invited you to their backyard bbq tonight to relax a bit and get you among people. You still have 30 minutes until your uber will arrive, enough time for a quick shower. You make your way to the small bathroom to wash away the sweat and dirt of unpacking boxes in an overheated apartment for the whole day. And it’s only spring. Summer will probably be a nightmare here, like living in a sauna. You console yourself with the thought of air-conditioned offices because this is where you’ll spend most of your day.
After your shower, you stand in front of your closet, contemplating what to wear. Spontaneously, you pull out a cute summer dress - because why the hell not - and a warm cardigan to wear later. A little makeup, pretty sandals, your favorite earrings, and you’re ready to go. You grab your handbag and a bottle of wine before you sprint down the stairs from the 5th floor since the elevator seems to be broken again, making it to your uber just in time.
“You’re lucky,” the driver mutters, studying you in the rearview mirror. “Usually, I don’t wait that long here. This area is a real shithole.”
“I know,” you sigh. But the rent is cheap, you add in your thoughts. “Thanks for waiting anyway.”
The rest of the ride to your friends’ house is quiet as you look out the window, watching skyscrapers and apartment blocks fly by, making room for green spaces and single-family houses.
Mike’s and Sarah’s house looks like most people’s dream: located in the suburbs, country house style both on the outside and the inside, and a huge backyard with a pool.
You make your way to the backyard, where Mike greets you with a big hug, making you immediately feel welcome. As soon as he lets go of you, Sarah pulls you into her arms.
“Y/N, you made it,“ she squeals. "You look so lovely in that dress! Let’s sit down, you must be exhausted from unpacking boxes.”
You smile as you let her usher you to a group of chairs, chattering non-stop.
“And that wine looks so good, thank you so much! Mike, honey, could you bring us a corkscrew and two glasses, please?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he grins, bending down to press a sweet kiss on her lips and sending you a wink before he makes his way to the house.
For as long as you’ve known him, Mike has always been a warm-hearted guy who took all sorts of strays under his wing. You haven’t known Sarah for long, but she seems to be just the same kind of person. And there’s no denying that you - new in town, painfully single, without family or other friends here - are their latest stray.
There could be worse, you think to yourself as your gaze wanders across the backyard. Tables and chairs are arranged in several groups, beautifully decorated with lanterns and pots with fresh herbs, more lanterns hanging in two walnut trees - a scenery predestined to be photographed for one of those fancy home and garden magazines. Of course, the grill is huge, and there’s enough food to feed an entire army. And they have invited a whole crowd of people indeed - a mixture of families, couples, and singles; mostly friends, neighbors, and a few colleagues as you learn during the evening. You spend most of the time getting to know everyone, shaking hands and doing Smalltalk, occasionally stuffing your face with the best chicken breast and cobb salad you’ve had in a long time. When it got dark, and a bit chilly, Mike lits a bonfire, and everyone gathers around the fire pit to roast some s’mores and warm up by the fire.
At some point, you excuse yourself for a bathroom break. You try to memorize the woman you sat next to by the bonfire as you make your way to the house: Her name is Jen, she’s in her 60s, and she and her husband live in the same street as Mike and Sarah. She has been very friendly and easy to talk to, and the best is, she’s the assistant of your future boss, so you’ll see her again at work.
On your way back out, you hold on to the banister as you carefully walk down the steps of the back porch. In the backyard, you stop for a moment to let your eyes adjust to the darkness.
You tilt your head back to look at the starry sky, and at this very moment, someone comes around the corner of the hedge with quick steps, crashing right against you. The collision pushes the air out of your lungs, making you huff in shock as you fall forward. You extend your hands, trying to break your fall, but it’s too late. Pebbles crunch as you land hard on your knee, piercing and scratching your skin.
“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t see you,” a hoarse voice gasps out.
A broad figure crouches down beside you, and you recognize him immediately. Tall, dark unruly curls, scruffy beard, rugged yet handsome appearance. He arrived a bit later than you, alone. Another stray, you thought immediately. His handshake was pleasantly firm as you introduced yourself to him, exchanging only a few words. Also later, when everyone sat around the bonfire, he didn’t say much. Maybe he’s a quiet person in general, but you also noticed how tired he looked, dark circles under his eyes, even visible in the soft light of the fire. Your gazes met a couple of times across the flames, making the corners of your mouths turn up into small smiles. Walter. That’s his name.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you mumble, a bit embarrassed, although he’s the one who knocked you down. Yet you feel your cheeks grow hot, and you’re thankful for the darkness that surrounds you. He carefully helps you stand up, one hand on your elbow, the other one on your hip, loosening his grip as soon as you’re back on your feet.
A sharp pain shoots to your knee when you tentatively shift your weight on your leg, making you hiss.
“I don’t think you’re okay,” he states, grabbing your elbow to support you again. “Are you hurt?"
“It’s just my knee,” you murmur through gritted teeth.
“Let’s go inside, so I can have a look at it in the light.”
“It’s okay. I think I’ll live,” you try to appease him.
“Just to make sure you don’t bleed to death here. Please?” His face is cast in the shadow, but you can hear the smile in his voice.
Running out of arguments, you let him guide you to the house. Now and then, he puts his hand on the small of your back, actually so slightly it’s barely noticeable. Yet something about him draws you in, making you overly aware of his every move, letting your skin tingle at every little touch.
He opens the door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. A gentleman, you think to yourself, sending him a surprised smile as you walk past him.
In the bathroom, he helps you sit down on the edge of the bathtub. Your eyes follow him as he casually opens doors and drawers, gathering several things to treat your wound.
He seems to take up the whole room, reminding you of a rugby player with his broad back and shoulders, and tree trunk legs. The sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up to his elbows, granting you a look at his thick forearms. And you can’t help but look at his equally thick and tight ass when he bends down to get a towel from a closet.
Before you know it, he has already straightened up and turned around, catching you subconsciously biting your bottom lip as you check him out. A smirk spreads across his face while a flush of blood rushes to your cheeks, making you lower your gaze in shame.
He turns towards the sink to wash his hands, but this time you keep your eyes from wandering as you focus on breathing evenly, attempting to drive away the heat in your cheeks.
“Damn,” he murmurs as he crouches down in front of you, taking a closer look at your knee. That’s when you remember why you sit here. You turn your gaze to your knee as well, realizing you scraped it pretty badly, dirt and gravel sticking to the wound, a trail from dried blood running along your shin. The view brings back the stinging pain you had somehow forgotten about, making you wrinkle your nose.
“I need to clean the wound first. Can you turn around so I can rinse it?” he asks, wrinkling his nose likewise as if he too felt the pain.
After a bit of shuffling, you sit astride the edge of the bathtub, one foot on the floor, the other one supported on the opposite edge.
Walter grabs the shower head and starts to rinse your wound. Normally, the cold water would have given you goosebumps, but now it feels like a futile attempt to cool down your overheated body. Of course, the fact that he’s so fucking close isn’t exactly helpful. You feel the heat radiating off his body as his arm and shoulders repeatedly press against you, and his scent invades your senses - a hint of smoke from the bonfire, mixed with a whiff of his cologne and something irresistible. Him.
When the wound is clean, he wets a washcloth to gently wash dried blood and dirt off your leg. Then, he pats your knee dry before carefully applying a thin layer of antibiotic cream.
His head is bent over your knee, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. Meanwhile, you admire the tangle of unruly curls on his head, wondering what his hair would feel like if you buried your hand in it as he buried his head between your legs… For fucks sake, Y/N, keep it together, you scold yourself and your raging hormones.
“Is that better?” You almost jump when you hear his voice.
“Yeah, it almost doesn’t hurt anymore. You do that often, huh?” you manage to reply.
“Something like that,” he smiles as he bandages your knee, his eyes repeatedly flicking between your knee and your face. And what a pair of eyes he has! Blue like the sea on a sunny day with a patch of brown in his left eye, as you notice now.
“There we go,” he murmurs as he secures the end of the bandage.
“Well, thanks for doctoring me,” you answer, tentatively bending and straightening your leg.
“It’s the least I could do after knocking you down, right?”
For a moment, you just smile at each other. You expect him to stand up, but he stays crouched down in front of you, still so damn close. Your smiles slowly fade as you lock eyes with each other, and the air suddenly feels thick to breathe. His gaze wanders to your lips, and then, he slowly leans closer. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears as his lips brush yours, planting a gentle kiss on your mouth. He pulls back just a tiny bit, his hot breath fanning your face as he looks at you inquiringly, carefully watching your reaction. You almost startle yourself when you lean forward, longingly pressing your lips on his. After a few seconds, a part of your brain reminds you that you don’t know him at all, that you probably shouldn’t kiss a stranger, and the thought makes you pull back slightly. Again, you stare at each other, mesmerized, your faces only inches apart as none of you makes a move to withdraw further. Then, you lean in at the same time and that’s when your mind goes blank. You let your eyes flutter shut as your mouths melt into each other, unable to stop the sigh falling from your lips when he touches your neck, running his thumb along your jaw. You have no idea for how long you’ve been sitting here on the edge of the bathtub, kissing this beautiful stranger, losing yourself in the sensation of his soft lips and his warm hands on your skin.
The sudden sound of steps in the hallway makes you startle apart. Walter hastily stands up while your eyes remain glued to each other, blinking as if you just woke up. Seconds later, Jen appears in the doorway.
“Walter? Ah, here you are! And Y/N, too! Walter, I thought you were already gone, but then I saw your car. Any chance you could give me a lift? My feet hurt like hell. Those damn shoes… Oh boy, what happened here?” she asks, a bit concerned, gesturing at the bandages and towels which are scattered on the floor.
“I was on my way out, but Y/N needed some first aid,” he answers, seemingly nonchalantly skipping the reason why you needed first aid after all.
“Aw, my poor girl! What happened?”
“I stumbled and fell. Clumsy me,” you shrug, your mouth curving into a smile as you send him an amused look, watching in delight as his ears turn red. Cute!
“Of course, I can give you a lift,” Walter hastens to answer Jen without giving her time to answer you, earning another amused look from both of you.
“Thank you so much, dear!” Jen chirps without pressing him further. “Let’s go then. I need to get my beauty sleep before the weekend is over.”
Walter nods, but instead of leaving, he starts to gather bandages and other first-aid utils from the floor.
“It’s okay. I can take care of that,” you offer.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Jen asks.
“Of course,” you reassure them, smiling. “It’s fine, really.”
“Leave the wound covered for 24 hours and change the bandage daily, okay?” Walter instructs you, all businesslike.
“Okay. Bye Walter. And thanks again.“
"Bye, Y/N.” He replies as he walks to the door, his expression what can only be described as a poker face. Just before he leaves the room, you see a tiny, conspiratorial smile tugging at his lips and it’s enough to give you butterflies in your stomach.
Before you know it, Jen pulls you into a big hug. “Bye, sweetheart! And take care, okay? I’m really looking forward to seeing you on Monday.“
“Thank you, Jen. I’m really looking forward to working with you,” you reply genuinely, hugging her back. From the corner of your eye, you see Walter stopping abruptly in the hallway.
“Working with you?” you hear him ask her, irritated, as they walk towards the front door.
“Jesus Christ,” you hear Jen sigh, feigning desperation. “Have you been living under a rock lately, Detective? Y/N is the new transcriptionist who starts on Monday.”
Detective… Wait, what?
You can’t hear his answer, but you see him looking over his shoulder, briefly meeting your gaze with the same level of confusion that you feel, before he follows Jen outside.
When the door closes behind them, you take a deep breath.
You slowly shake your head as you wash your hands, scrubbing traces of dirt and blood off your fingers.
You didn’t talk about your jobs earlier, but what you just heard can only mean one thing: You haven’t met one, but two future colleagues tonight. And you kissed him. And damn, what a kiss it was!
You press your cool hands against your hot cheeks as you look at your reflection in the mirror, watching an incredulous smile creeping across your face.
And you will see him again. On Monday.
Maybe… Maybe this beginning really bears a special magic.
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
When she thinks, What all did you want to do to this man?
Me: Everythang.
Okay. You managed to convey the setting well; the coziness. I like how they are into each other equally. And I’d never thought so but you convinced me otherwise: Walter is real skilled at eating…… marshmallows
Ooh girl, YES he is
Thank you so very much, babe!!! That means so much coming from you
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
Summary:Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.
Warnings: 18+ only. SMUT SMUT …. AND MORE SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids, cockwarming, cursing, mild dominant energy if you squint.
Author’s Note: So many of you asked for this… hell, I wanted it, too! This may be the hottest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of writing. I hope someone else thinks so, too
Edited by my main squeeze, the ever fabulous Lady Danger: @cavillsthighs
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
✨If you want to be added to my tag list, DM me or comment on this fic!✨
Happy super late Valentine’s, Cavillry! As usual, this is a very very late upload but in my defense, it does say in my bio that I am a procrastinator soooo… Anyway, I’m really excited about this miniseries because I love the movie (The Wedding Date, 2005) and I really wanted to write Walter, I hope I do him justice!
Feedback (good and bad!) means the world to me as rookie writer, so I hope you’ll like, reblog and leave me some replies!
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You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn’t. But there you were doing it, even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.
The fact that you even considered doing this was already a serious loss of dignity points, so what the hell. People did this all the time, didn’t they? There wouldn’t be a whole network of people clumped into this app if it wasn’t a normal occurrence.
It just wasn’t a normal occurrence for you.
Once you filled your head with rationalisations to make yourself feel better, you took a deep breath and began browsing through what the great city of New York had to offer.
Z, 6’, loving hands, fit, athletic, good manners, for water sports, caramel complexion.
For water sports? What in the hell did that mean? And that single initial in place of an actual name? Serial killer vibes. No, thank you.
Lenny, 6’2”, pretty fit Italian, excellent dinner companion, all occasions catered.
Alright. Okay. Now we’re talking. Tall, European, excellent dinner companion equals to good conversationalist, accommodating. Lenny goes on the list of possibilities.
Terry, 6’, my soft voice will arouse you, my strong hands will pleasure you, let me show you how a woman should be treated, hourly/overnight rates.
Oh no no no. Major creep vibes from Terry. That ad alone had you reaching for another long swig of wine.
Joey, 5’8”, are you into champagne?, bodybuilder, will treat you like a queen.
“If you like piña coladas…” you sang in not even remotely the right key, topping off your drink
Josh, 5’9”, I can make you feel sexy and wanted. Fit, sensual, strong.
“Well!” you exclaimed drunkenly, almost spilling wine on your couch, “Tough beans, Josh! I don’t need a man to make me feel sexy and wanted!” you faltered a bit, your drunk mind still seeing the holes in your logic
“I just… Need a man to help me not look like a tragic spinster in front of my family and my ex…”
With that thought fresh in your mind, you reached for some more wine.
The ads went on and on as you scrolled through your phone, it was all a little overwhelming, how were you going to make sure you weren’t hiring some psychopathic serial killing pervert to pose as your date to your sister’s wedding?
The groan you let out bounced off the walls of your apartment. The reality of your situation was sinking in little by little.
Yes. You were hiring a male escort for your sister’s wedding. It was your baby sister’s wedding, by the way. You were a hundred percent aware that what you were doing was completely and utterly pathetic but you’ve already weighed the pros and cons in your head countless times.
Showing up alone: pitying looks, whispering behind your back, having to face ex by yourself, staggering levels of embarrassment.
Showing up with handsome -hired- date: mother can finally get off your back, date is more handsome than ex, ex will want to shrivel up and die, no one will know date is male escort except you and him.
Now, let’s break down some of the guests just for the sake of being thorough.
There’s your slightly overbearing mother (slightly meaning every call you have with her opens with the question: “how’s your love life, dear?” or “I have the most amazing man to set you up with!”), all of her judgy eagle-eyed friends (mostly rich widows whose sons your mom shamelessly shoves your way), your extended family (some terrifyingly old school great aunts and uncles who will definitely ask if you’re married and smile sympathetically when you say you’re not), and last but certainly not the least, Jeffrey, your ex-fiancé (best man, but apparently not the best man for you, his words not yours).
“Lordy fuck.” you exhaled hard, chugging your wine straight from the bottle
How on earth did you get here? Sitting alone in your apartment, working your way through your second bottle of wine (or third? Who was keeping count?), clicking on ads that spoke of “hot single males in your area” waiting to meet you.
Would it be fair to pin it all on the end of your engagement?
Picturing that moment, you decided that it was only fair. Those were five years of your life you would never get back, you were prepared to sign on for more but, yeah.
You were blindsided, that’s the only way to describe it. All the while, you thought that you and Jeffrey were on the same page, at the same place in life. You were the golden couple, the couple that all the other couples wished they could be, when you two walked past, girlfriends would give their boyfriends a slap on the shoulder that meant, “Why can’t we be more like them?”
It was so out of nowhere, one minute you were discussing wedding cake options over dinner, then suddenly you’re putting the ring in his palm, completely in shock.
After that, you threw yourself into your work despite the fact that you were already a budding workaholic to begin with. That’s how you ended up earning six figures a year.
Six figure salary, check. Doing pretty well in life all things considered, check.
But even with all that, there weren’t any conversations over casseroles and cobblers about your many achievements. Nope, your mother and her friends would much rather discuss their worries that you would essentially, die alone.
Your little sister, Amy, getting married before you didn’t exactly help to put a lid on all the chatter. And with Jeffrey being the best man? And you being maid of honour?
It was a disaster waiting to happen.
Maybe you could make up an excuse believable enough to get you off the hook so you wouldn’t have to go?
Were you really thinking about bailing on your little sister’s wedding? If she wasn’t taking cues from your mother, it would be the only one she ever had.
Not one of your finest moments as a sibling.
With the complications of your situation fully realised, you took to reading the ads with a little more effort. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for long.
Nick, 6’, male, tall, good looking, strong build. You will not be disappointed.
The ad was considerably less flashy than the others but you supposed that’s what drew you to it in the first place. It was understated, simple, and his ad wasn’t entirely made up of overcompensating flexing pics.
Mostly because he didn’t need them.
Call off the search, send the boys home. You had a winner here!
Staring up at you from your phone screen was the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life. Literally.
A mane of thick, artfully disheveled curly hair, eyes that were a light shade of blue that had a sort of dark intensity and intelligence that you could spend days trying to understand, and a smile. Oh, that smile was absolutely suckerpunching. It was odd though, something in your head was telling you that this man did not smile often.
You couldn’t tell if the warmth blooming in your chest and creeping towards your cheeks was from all the wine or from examining this prime specimen. Jeez Louise!
“Phew!” you fanned yourself upon stumbling on a photo of him crossing his arms in a tank top. Good God, you hoped he had a license for those guns!
You had to set your phone down for a minute to think things through although it seemed absolutely nuts that you had to think twice at all. It’s just that after the initial excitement and hormones wore off, it was becoming more and more evident that this man was too good to be true.
Just look at him! Were there actually men that looked like that? And why didn’t they live closer to you? A quick sweep of his profile placed him in Minneapolis.
What were the crime rates like there? And did they have a high rate of murders relating to escort services?
Before you could even google anything related to that, you stopped yourself. If you kept at this rate, you would never get anything done! Finally, after a methodical deliberation (aka ogling the pictures on his ad), you saved Nick’s contact number to your phone.
Aaand that’s as far as you’d go for the night. You could call him tomorrow when you weren’t a floundering drunk. It was like your mother always said, “Always be sober for a business transaction, but anything else calls for a cocktail.”
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The following morning, you sat at your little breakfast nook, eggs still piping hot and untouched, and a hangover in full effect. You’ve been staring at the phone number for so long, you could say it in your sleep.
Come on, Y/N, the wedding is five freaking days away.
What if this guy was fully booked? You didn’t want to spend five days surrounded by family with Mr. my-soft-voice-will-arouse-you, did you?
You slammed your finger down on the call icon and stuck the phone to your ear. Your heart beat faster and faster with every ring and your palms became so slick with sweat that you almost dropped your phone a couple of times.
Maybe you should have taken your mother up on the multiple occasions that she wanted to set you up with someone. Alright, on second thought, you didn’t really want to be with someone who only looked good on paper but was actually an insufferable mama’s boy.
“Hello?” a male voice answered, catching you off-guard
Oh, God. Okay, you’re really doing this.
“Yes, hi! Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Nick!” you chirped, in a startled high pitched squeak you didn’t dare recognise as your own
The silence on the other end was starting to make you sweat behind the knees. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t mention any specifics.
“Uh, sorry! I got this number from the, uh, the ad. I’m looking for Nick?”
“Yes! Yes, that’s right, but Nick isn’t in right now. This is his manager.”
Was that a good sign? That a male escort had a manager? Did all male escorts have managers? You clearly didn’t know enough about this stuff.
“It’s a pleasure, Mister..?”
There was another beat of silence before the person on the other line answered, you tried your hardest not to overthink about what that could have meant.
“Foley! I’m Foley, Nick’s manager.” Mr. Foley’s voice returned to your ear, sounding much too bright for your liking.
Christ, what were you, a cop? To be honest, you were exhausted. Despite all the alcohol in your system last night, you barely got any sleep. You spent the rest of the night reading through some reviews of Nick’s service as an escort.
He had a glittering five star rating.
One woman hired him to pose as her husband at a high school reunion and by the end of the night, she ended up proposing to him. He respectfully declined and even bought her dinner afterwards.
That review alone was enough to convince you that you would be in good hands. So, it was time to buckle down, swallow the nerves, and handle your business like the adult you were.
“Mr. Foley,” you shook your hair out and put on your professional voice. “I’d like to book your client for five days, give or take. I need a plus one for a wedding. Is he available to leave on the-”
“Please hold. I’ll check his schedule.”
“Oh. But I didn’t mention when I-”
“He’s available. Would you prefer to pick him up at JFK or will he meet you at your place of residence?”
“Oh. Uh, I guess I could pick him up. Do I pay for his ticket or..?” you were feeling a teensy bit of whiplash at how fast this was all going
There was some rustling on the other line and the muffled sounds of bickering. You tried not to let that concern you.
“We’ll handle that, Ms. Y/L/N. We have your number, we’ll be in touch for further details. Good bye.”
The line went dead and you were left staring at your phone in confusion. Did you tell him your name?
Walter Marshall x Reader (inspired by the 2005 film, The Wedding Date -check this movie out it is so good-)
Turns out I really enjoyed making a teaser for Wildest Dreams, so now here’s another teaser for my next fic, The Escort!
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“You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn’t. But there you were doing it even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.”
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“Although it sounded like a question, Walter actually meant it as an invitation for Commissioner Harper to rethink what he just said.
“You’re going undercover, Detective Marshall.“
“I heard that part.” Walter grumbled, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms tightly across his chest”
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“Close your eyes. Close your eyes.” he tried to get your attention but you couldn’t focus on him, you felt like the air was slowly being siphoned out of your lungs.
His hands made their way to the side of your face, gently coaxing you to look at his piercing blue gaze, “Close. Your. Eyes.”
“You’re safe. You can relax. I’m not going to kiss you. He’s going to be so sorry he lost you, so stop worrying. Forget about the past. Forget the pain. And remember…”
His thumb lightly traced the line of your jaw, pulling you even deeper into his spell. You could feel his lips just barely brushing against your own, your lips parted involuntarily in anticipation.
