Cuddles (SS)

                                    

                                          
Authour's Note: I'm so sorry that I'm terrible at fluff/sexy stuff, I'll just go back to angst and death soon :D Also I went camping that's why this is so late my bad forgive me. It's really short, too, because fluff is so mean. 
                          
Another thing; does anyone watch anime? I have a bunch of anime headcannons that I may publish if anyone's interested. Like, AUs and stuff. 
                          


                          
Set from after Aria returned from Hell.
                          
"Oh, come on Sam. Pleeeeease? I know you hate them, but they're a part of the show. One of my favourite shows, to be clear," I pouted. We were lying in bed, wide awake even at midnight. I was still faintly injured, and Sam was being gentle, snuggling against my side as I browsed the millions of recorded shows on our T.V. 
                          
"There wasn't any television in Hell and I really miss this show," I teased, the slight smile falling off my face when I felt Sam's wince. 
                          
"You shouldn't joke about it," he whispered.
                          
"Sorry. I guess that's a bit of a sensitive subject right now," I sighed, looking over at him and giving him a slight peck on the cheek. Sam took my free hand and brought it to his lips
                          
"Well, I guess one episode won't hurt," he groaned, and I squealed quietly, starting the first episode of American Horror Story: Freakshow.  I tried my hardest to actually pay attention to the show, but it was difficult when Sam seemed to beg for my attention. We had shifted positions; I now sat slightly propped against the headboard so I could see the television, with Sam's head nestled between my neck and shoulder. Even with him curled up, his legs still reached further than mine, nearly touching the edge of the bed. He was absent-mindedly tracing his finger across my skin, stopping every once in awhile to place a soft kiss against my neck. Stubbornly, I continued watching the show, pretending to not notice Sam. A scene with Twisty the Clown came on, and I noticed that Sam had stopped his assault on my skin and instead was actually watching the television. 
                          
"Sam?" I murmured, glancing over at him. His hazel eyes were wide as he watched the creepy clown murder a girl. I touched my hand to his cheek, moving his face to look up towards me. 
                          
"Hey, s'okay," I muttered, leaning down to brush my lips against his softly. Sam didn't move for a second, but quickly recovered, kissing me back gratefully. I noticed the scene change, and pulled back.
                          
"I'll never be over that fear," I giggled as he wrapped his hand around my abdomen and snuggled into my chest again. 
                          
"Oh, shut up," he snorted. A few peaceful minutes passed before Sam started inching my- well, technically it was his- shirt up and tracing the scars on my belly. I shivered, but continued watching the show, although it was getting increasingly difficult. He was shirtless, and his defined muscles brushed against my own bare skin. His hands traced across my hipbones now, and I silently cursed myself for wearing such low-riding sweatpants. The moment the end credits appeared, I scooted down to his level, throwing my leg over top of his hips and looming over him.
                          
"Listen here, you sexy, distracting idiot," I practically snarled, "You need to learn some patience." 
                          
"Oh?" Sam exclaimed, feigning innocence and raising an eyebrow. I made a soft mmhm noise, leaning down and kissing his neck. I moved my assault from his neck to his collarbones, smiling wickedly at the soft noises emitting from his mouth. I pulled away after making sure that I'd left tiny hickeys on his bronze skin.
                          
"I was trying to watch that," I muttered, my lips pressed against his ear. Sam's hands went to bring my face to his, but I refused, kissing just under his ear. I moved my kisses up his jaw until I was almost at his mouth. I leaned back, ignoring Sam's groan. 
                          
"Are you going to interrupt any more?" I teased, brushing my lips against his. Sam stayed silent, glaring up at me, leaning up to connect our lips. I sat up even more, making sure that he could still feel my breath on his cheek. 
                          
"U-Uh, no?" Sam squeaked, more of a question than an an answer. 
                          
"Good," I purred, pecking him on the lips before rolling over and yawning. "Cause I'm sleepy."
                          
"You are so bipolar," Sam gaped, watching me scramble for the T.V remote and turn it off.
                          
"Not denying it," I admitted, rolling over to snuggle into Sam's chest. "G'night."
                          
"Night," he replied, and we both fell into a blissful sleep.
                          


                          
The nightmare started how it usually did. I was back down there, with Asmodeous, watching as he chose a toy to play with. 
                          
"I have something new for you today," he told me. I remained silent, refusing to say anything. My hands were chained above my head, my feet shackled together; I had been knocked off my feet so many times that the restraints around my wrists were biting into my skin, shredding at the bone.
                          
"You know," Asmodeous sighed, walking back towards me with something twirling in his hands. "So, have you ever heard of flaying?" Once again, I remained silent, glaring at him through my dirty mop of hair. Apparently, he took my silence as a no.
                          
"Well, this specific method of torture was used a long time ago. You've skinned potatoes, right?" He asked, and a spike of fear rose in my stomach.
                          
"Essentially, this is the same thing... except you're the one being skinned! Fun, huh?" Asmodeous giggled, now standing behind me. "Your back seems like a good place to start." The cool metal pressed against my back, and for a second, it felt good. But then, he began pushing and dragging it downwards. I let out a wild howl of pain, trying to block out the noise of my skin falling to the floor. My skin. I don't have skin. I'm in Hell. This pain isn't real,I tried to reassure myself. But it felt real. It felt so, sickeningly real...
                          
"Let's see how long you can hold on to your sanity," Asmodeous whispered in my ear, causing every bone in my body to shake. 
                          


                          
My eyes flew open, and Sam's face was the first thing I saw. My skin was sticky with a cold sweat, and when I brought my hand up to my face, I felt warm tears on my cheeks. I wiped them away quickly, plastering a reassuring smile onto my face.
                          
"I'm okay, just a nightmare. Don't worry, Sam, I'm fine," I told him, trying to calm my shaking hands. Sam frowned, obviously not convinced, but laid back down anyways.
                          
"When you're ready to talk," he sighed, pulling me close to him again, "I'm right here." I smiled, taking one more deep breath to sooth my nerves. Yes. Sam was here. He would always be here. Always.