Take a Shot
Walter Skinner x fem reader
Warnings- lots of fluff, temporary roommates, lemon, long fic
Summary- Walter meets a teacher and they go out for drinks, eventually leading to a relationship he wasn’t expecting.
A/n- This has been in my drafts for over a month, sorry. I couldn’t help writing for him… I know there’s not a huge fandom for him, but hopefully, those who read this will enjoy it ❤️ Thank you @steeevienicks and @where-is-my-mind-tho
Skinner rocked on the balls of his feet, staring at the gray speckled linoleum floors that shined underneath the fluorescent lights. He still wasn’t quite sure how he got roped into this. The whole ordeal seemed below him as the Assistant Director of the FBI, but on the other hand it was important to maintain a good public image, even in a situation like this one.
Skinner tsked, picturing a few of his colleagues and how their actions on several occasions damaged the FBI’s reputation, the ridiculous things Mulder would choose to share would make them all look like fools.
He glanced up at the wooden door, gold metal numbers at the top read Rm 17. From outside the room, he could hear eager whispers and excited chatter. Taking a peek through the window that was in the center, he almost lost his nerve, his palms feeling clammy as he looked at all the faces. He wasn’t expecting that there would be so many of them.
Sighing to himself, he wondered if he could hold their attention, he could only imagine the chaos that would ensue if they all got bored.
Taking a deep breath, he finally knocked on the door.
“Quiet down everyone,” a gentle voice announced. “Our guest speaker has arrived.”
Skinner mustered up a smile, but it was more of grimace as a young woman opened the door, beaming from ear to ear. She was pretty, much prettier than he remembered his teachers ever being.
“Please come in,” she said, stepping aside. “I’m Ms. L/n. Thank you so much for coming.”
Skinner strode in, standing front and center of the classroom. He was greeted by cheeky young faces, grinning up at him from their desks.
Ms. L/n stood at the back of the class and gave him a reassuring nod before he began speaking.
“Good afternoon,” he started. “I am assistant director Walter Skinner of the FBI.”
To his surprise a hand immediately shot up in the air.
“Yes?” Skinner asked, raising his brow.
“What does FBI stand for?”
“Federal Bureau of Investigation-“
“What does that mean?” Another student blurted out.
“It means that we investigate on behalf of the federal government,” he answered. “While also upholding the law and protecting innocent people.”
Questions continued coming one after another, Skinner could hardly keep up.
“What do you investigate?”
“Do you have a gun?”
“Have you ever shot anyone?”
“Do you know the president?”
Skinner took a deep breath, “The bureau investigates a variety of crimes from terrorist attacks to serial killers. Yes, I am armed, I have shot someone, and no, I do not know the president personally.”
He noted Ms. L/n trying her best to maintain some composure. Her eyes were closed as she covered her mouth and tried to resist laughing.
After an hour or so of speaking about his position, answering bizarre questions, and listening to random stories about missing puppies, annoying little brothers, and cartoons, Skinner was relieved to hear the bell ring.
In a rapid and chaotic fashion the elementary schoolers scrambled out of their seats and bolted to the exit with their backpacks in tow.
“You might want to give it a minute,” Ms. L/n informed him. “It’s a literal zoo out in those halls and the parking lot is just as bad.”
“Thanks for the tip,” he replied, eyes still on the door as he listened to the stampede of children continue down the hall.
“Thanks again for coming in,” she smiled. “I know this probably wasn’t something you’d do normally.” She shrugged, tucking her hands into the pockets of her A-line skirt.
Skinner turned his attention to the teacher. “What do you mean?”
Ms. L/n rubbed the back of her head, sighing a little before she spoke. “You having to come here is all probably my fault,” she elaborated. “My uncle is a senator, so when I asked if he could arrange for some guest speakers to visit my class, I wasn’t expecting him to take it so seriously… I’m sorry.”
Skinner chuckled dryly, now it all made sense. “At least it wasn’t a complete disaster… I’m not used to being around children.”
“What? You did an amazing job, honestly, they had a lot of fun with you.”
He leaned against the desk. “How do you do it?” He mused. “There had to be about 25 of them, I’d lose what’s left of my hair trying to keep it all under control.”
She giggled, “Lots and lots of patience, and when that’s not enough there’s a bag of chocolate in my desk drawer and a little bottle of aspirin for the headaches… and on Fridays after a particularly challenging week, I go home and enjoy a glass of wine.”
Skinner nodded, “I keep a bottle of scotch at home for similar days… so what usually happens to get you to break open that bottle of wine?”
“Let’s see…” she hummed, leaning against her desk right next to him. “Just off the top of my head, this week we had Billy pulling Suzy’s hair and her retaliating by kicking him in the shin, then I had sent Tommy to the nurse only for him to come back to class and throw up on the floor, I had to deal with parent complaints over the amount of homework being too much or not enough, and then of course a surprise fire drill to top it all off. Thank God it’s Friday, right?”
Skinner laughed, “Sounds like you definitely earned that glass of wine or maybe even a whole bottle or two.”
“So, what does a tough day for the assistant director of the FBI look like?” She asked.
“Besides making classroom visits?” He joked. “A lot of stress, paperwork, and putting out a lot of fires caused by my own agents… I’ve got an agent who's probably just as much trouble as some of these kids.”
A comfortable few moments of silence fell between the two of them.
“Hey, do you hear that?” Ms. L/n asked, looking towards the door,
Skinner immediately straightened up, listening carefully. “I don’t hear anything,” he answered after several seconds.
“Exactly,” she smiled widely. “Sweet sweet silence. Looks like it’s safe for us to make our escape.” She grabbed her purse and coat, “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
As they walked through the halls, Ms. L/n continued to make small talk, but it didn’t feel forced or awkward at all. It had been awhile since the last time Skinner felt so at ease with a stranger. She was lovely, intelligent, and charming.
He didn’t really have time to weigh all the pros and cons, but as they got closer to the exit the more he wanted an excuse to stay and talk to her.
“It was nice meeting you,” Ms. L/n stated as they reached the parking lot. She offered her hand for a quick handshake.
Skinner accepted and while shaking her hand noticed the absence of a wedding ring and decided to go ahead and take a shot.
“Can I treat you to that glass of wine?” He offered, before he lost his nerve. “There’s a decent bar nearby that we could go to, if you’re interested.”
She beamed, “Sure as long as I get to return the favor and buy you a drink.”
…
“A headlock? Really?” Y/n laughed in disbelief.
Walter sighed, taking off his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “I’m telling you, it’s like dealing with the most unruly child sometimes.”
A half bottle of red wine sat on the bar between them along with several empty scotch glasses. The evening went by quickly as they exchanged outrageous work related stories.
“But you can’t help feeling like you're responsible for them, you know? Keeping them safe and out of trouble, trying to mold them into caring and empathetic hu-man beings,” she hiccuped.
Walter nodded, “Oh I know… believe me, I’ve put my ass on the line for them, probably a dozen times by now, yet they still don’t seem to learn.”
Y/n rested her head on her hand, elbow propped up on the bar as she gazed at the assistant director. “I’m having a really great time with you,” she added suddenly. “I don’t usually have a lot of spare time to go out like this…”
“Me too,” he agreed, his eyes meeting hers. “Dating and my kind of work don’t exactly go hand and hand.”
“Maybe we can make this a habit,” y/n suggested.
They both perked up as the bartender announced the last call.
“Oh wow,” she muttered, sitting up and looking around, what was a packed bar just hours ago, now only had a few couples and some stragglers left. “I didn’t know it was so late already.”
Walter settled the tab and then pulled out his cell phone. “Here, I’ll call you a cab.”
He could tell from the clouded look in her eyes that she was past her limit and needed a safe ride home. Walter helped escort her outside as she stumbled beside him. They waited quietly under a street light in the cool night until the cab arrived.
“Thanks for tonight,” Y/n said as the taxi pulled to the curb.
“Of course, thanks for the scotch.”
Like a gentleman, he pulled open the door for her but before she got in she quickly opened her purse and dug around until she found a piece of paper and a pen. On the scrap of notebook paper she jotted something down.
“Call me, next time you need a drink or have some time to spare,” she instructed, handing it to him.
Walter nodded, eyes downcasted as he looked at the number, but soon stiffened when he felt her press her lips to his cheek in a sweet little kiss good night.
“See you soon,” she waved as she climbed into the backseat of the taxi.
Skinner watched the cab drive away before tucking the paper away in his coat then searched for his car keys. Despite the long week, Skinner noted that he was leaving the bar feeling more chipper and excited than he had felt all week or all month.
Arriving at his apartment, he took the note out and placed it safely by his phone on the table.
It was a week or so later when he finally called the number listed. It had been a particularly trying day, when he entered his apartment. He dropped his coat on the back of the couch and loosened his tie. The bottle of scotch sitting at the bar looked appealing, but drinking with y/n sounded even better.
This soon evolved into a weekly ritual. They’d have a few drinks and unload about their day.
As the weeks passed and their meetings continued, Walter found himself becoming closer to the young teacher. Almost as if reflecting their growing intimacy, they had stopped sitting at the bar during their dates and now sat at a secluded table in the corner.
Y/n realized early on that Walter showed his affection in very subtle but meaningful ways, he wasn’t the sort of guy to spend loads of money on frivolous gifts or to toss around poetic words of love, instead he did things like walk her to her car and then call her later to make sure she got home safely.
She liked that he acted with thought and that everything he did had clear intentions behind it. He was chivalrous, fair, and had a righteous sense of justice. Walter Skinner, soldier, FBI agent, gentleman, she had thought to herself.
There wasn’t much discussion about their relationship, no labels or expectations, just a weekly tradition in a nice bar. But in that dark corner they had claimed as their own, he placed his hand over hers, her thigh brushed up against his, her head tilted and her lips parted, all leading up to a kiss.
That was when Walter suddenly realized that they had crossed a line beyond simple friendship, and it scared him. He feared where this could lead and how he wouldn’t be able to be what she wanted.
In his ex wife’s opinion he was emotionally distant. Would this relationship too become hollow or lacking?
Unsure what to do, he came up with some weak excuse the following week, and offered her a hollow promise of a rain check. He felt as though he was in some sort of emotional limbo, trapped by his desires to continue seeing y/n and his worries of breaking her heart and his own,
…
Walter sighed, slumping in his seat, scattered on his desk were photos and reports of a recent killing tied to a local serial killer who was currently on a spree.
What he found so unsettling wasn’t the gruesome nature of these murders, this wasn’t the first serial killer case that he’s worked on afterall, but it was the location. All the kills took place in y/n’s neighborhood, in fact this last one took place just a few buildings down.
This put him in a difficult position, sharing this information with her could cause a panic, and there was the moral obligation of whether or not it was fair to protect her life over others, yet he feared that she could be the next target.
She fit the victim type. Single woman living alone. Same hair and eye color as the previous victims. Predictable schedule and routine.
He shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions, making himself worked up over something that may not happen, still…
His eyes landed on the telephone on his desk, what would he even say? He couldn’t ask her to stay in a hotel until further notice, and he couldn’t arrange for her to stay in a safe house either.
Skinner drummed his fingers on top of his desk as he mulled things over, y/n would be safe at his apartment he figured. She could stay with him until they arrested the culprit or the killings stopped.
He lifted the receiver, his knee bouncing anxiously as the line rang.
“Hello?” Y/n’s voice answered.
“Hey, it’s me,” he replied.
“Everything alright?” She asked, wondering why he was calling so late.
There was a long pause, Walter suddenly didn’t feel comfortable sharing all this over the phone. Instead he felt that it would be easier to talk to her face to face. “Everything is fine,” he finally said. “Can I stop by?”
“Sure.”
“Alright, I’ll leave work in a couple of minutes. See you soon.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his coat and locked up his office.
…
When y/n opened her front door, she smiled gently as her eyes landed on the assistant director, looking professional as always in his work attire.
“Sorry for dropping by so late,” he muttered, noticing that she was dressed in her pajamas.
Her hand cupped his cheek. “You look tired,” she said sympathetically. “Rough day?”
He nodded, “You can say that.”
She invited him into her small apartment. “Was it a hard liquor sorta day or would you prefer something more comforting like tea?” She offered.
Walter shook his head, “I’m fine, really.” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.
Y/n tilted her head, sitting on the sofa while Walter remained standing. “I suppose you’ve heard about the recent murders,” he started.
“I have,” she said. “But the news reports have been pretty vague.”
“We’ve been focused on not letting the media turn this into a frenzy or cause any unnecessary panic,” Walter explained.
“Makes sense… must be pretty bad if it has you so worked up,” she commented.
“Not exactly,” he answered. “It’s all fairly typical as far as serial killings go, but some of the details have me concerned about your well being,” His eyes met hers.
“You mean I’m similar to the other victims?”
“Plus there’s the factor of location,” he added, “Last murder happened right down the street and the rest were also close to this area.”
He could see the fear on her face as the information sunk in. Out of instinct, her eyes panned the room as though the murderer was lurking in a corner or in the shadows.
“Guess I should make sure to keep my door locked,” she joked nervously.
“Or,” Walter started, averting his gaze. “I was thinking, if you’re open to it, that you could stay at my place, just until we either arrest the bastard or when he moves on or whatever.”
“Are you sure?” She questioned.
“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. He was of two minds on the whole ordeal, but after thinking it over the drive here, he concluded that he’d feel loads better knowing that y/n was safe, despite his anxiety on their budding romance.
She smiled, “Thank you… I’ll pack a bag.” She stood from the couch and went to her bedroom.
Walter carried her bags to the car and then carried them into his apartment when they arrived. His apartment was clean and neat, nothing excessive or frivolous, a mature and simple bachelor’s pad.
“Here’s the guest room,” he pointed out while opening the door and setting her bags inside. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Y/n nodded, “Good night.”
Not wanting her to feel like he was hovering, he excused himself so she could familiarize herself with the space.
Retiring to his room, Walter laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. Before today, he had anticipated that if his relationship with y/n ever reached this point of her staying the night that they’d at least be sharing a bed.
It was strange knowing she was in the next room. She was so close but not close enough. He could only wonder how the next few days would unfold.
…
She was staring. She didn’t want to stare, but she couldn’t help it. When she woke up in the unfamiliar guest bed this morning, she hadn’t mentally prepared for such a marvelous sight. And, yes, it was truly marvelous.
Standing in the kitchen preparing a cup of coffee was Walter, shirtless. Who would’ve guessed that lurking beneath the coat, the blazer, and the dress shirt were such broad shoulders and muscular arms. His back was facing her, giving her a moment to admire him without him noticing. She watched his shoulder blades flex as he started cooking his eggs.
Y/n wasn’t sure how to put it into words, Walter was not only very masculine physically, but also emotionally and with the way he acted, yet it wasn’t at all a bad thing or in a chauvinistic way. His masculinity was exhibited through the way he provided, protected, carried himself with confidence and integrity.
The perfect man, she thought to herself. Finally averting her eyes, she took a breath before making her presence known.
“Good morning,” she chirped.
“Morning,” he greeted, glancing at her quickly before returning his attention to the stove. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Over medium.”
Y/n sat at the small dining table and practically choked on her coffee as Walter turned around and sat a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast in front of her. His chest looked… solid, firm, and adorned with chest hair. She should’ve figured his chest would be just as good as the rest of him.
“Did you sleep okay?” He asked, taking his seat across from her.
“I did,” y/n answered, then took a bite of toast. “Did you?”
He nodded, although truthfully it took him a few hours to finally fall asleep, but he didn’t want y/n to think it was because of her.
“Do you always make such a spread for breakfast?” She asked. “I’m lucky if I have a piece of toast or cereal before leaving for work.”
Walter shrugged, “Usually, I suppose it’s the meal I can count on having, some days I don’t get the chance to have lunch and other days I come home too exhausted to bother with dinner.”
“Well, I appreciate getting to have an actual meal before work.”
As she passed him carrying her plate to the sink, she kissed the side of his head. Then returned to the guest room to get ready for work.
By the time she was finished and headed back downstairs, Walter was dressed in his suit, straightening his blue tie in front of a mirror before throwing on his coat.
He gave her a spare key to his apartment, before they went their separate ways for work.
…
As Walter walked through the parking garage, he figured that he should stop somewhere to grab a few essentials and food on his way home. It was important for him for y/n to feel comfortable while living with him.
Wandering through the aisles, he grabbed a loaf of bread, more eggs, strawberries and blueberries, and a couple of other things to make a few dinners this week.
As he walked toward the checkout lanes, a bottle of Chardonnay caught his attention, the brand, if he recalled correctly, was the same one y/n had enjoyed a few nights ago. He grabbed it, adding it to his basket, before getting in line to checkout.
Opening the door to his apartment, Walter first noted the smell of a home cooked meal wafting toward him accompanied with sounds coming from the kitchen, little clings and clangs from the pots and pans and the radio was buzzing lowly.
He stood at the doorway taking it all in. He had forgotten how nice, how comforting, it was to come home to somebody.
“Hey, welcome home,” y/n said peeking out from around the corner. “Hope it’s alright that I’m making dinner, I just figured since you weren’t home yet, you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” he responded, finally lugging the groceries he bought into the kitchen.
“Is that for tonight?” She asked excitedly, seeing the bottle of wine.
“Can be,” he shrugged, handing her the bottle.
Her eyes lit up as she recognized the brand, “I’m going to get a couple of wine glasses.”
With ease they maneuvered around each other, y/n focused on cooking while he put away food in the fridge and cabinets.
“Go have a seat,” she instructed him, playfully nudging him toward the table. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
During dinner, she told him about her day, her expressions were all so animated as she went through the highlights. He intently listened, engrossed in her stories, he felt at ease. Typically, he’d still be thinking of work, either about a current case, an old case, or wondering what trouble Mulder and Scully were involved in.
Walter insisted on washing the dishes when they were done. Y/n retired to the living room, curled up on the couch with the TV on and a stack of papers on her lap that she graded during the commercials. He joined her when he was done, sitting in his armchair and overlooking a report.
She glanced in his direction and smiled softly, before returning her attention to the tests she was grading.
As the evening progressed a single question seemed to plague his mind, did he deserve another chance at having a domestic life, at having a life outside of his work?
He was going to miss her, especially the little moments that gave him an idea of what it would truly be like to live with her, like how’d he watch her from the corner of his eye as she painted her toenails, or how amusing it was for him when she’d become so invested in some ridiculous TV drama.
With the way things were going he could see the potential here between the two of them, potential to have something resembling a healthy relationship.
But he wasn’t sure if he was ready or capable for something serious like that. Between the fear and the guilt, he didn’t know what was holding him back more.
The next few days went by just as smoothly, Walter couldn’t deny they were compatible. He also couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed just having her around.
It was late at night on Friday when he arrived home. Unlocking the door, he found the apartment dark, walking in further he saw the light of the TV illuminating y/n’s face. Her eyes were fixated on the movie playing.
“I’m home,” he announced standing right by the couch.
She jumped slightly at the sudden sound of his voice and reached for the remote and paused the movie.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, switching on the light.
Y/n laughed a little at herself for getting so worked up, “It’s alright… I just didn’t hear you come in.”
He glanced at the frozen TV screen. “What are you watching?”
“I rented ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ on my way home,” she answered, but quickly added, “But we can watch something else.”
Walter removed his jacket and tie, laying them on a chair, before setting his wallet, gun, and badge on the table. “I’m fine with it. Did you have dinner already?”
“Does popcorn count?” She asked, referring to the bowl sitting on the coffee table.
He shook his head, “How does pizza sound?”
“Perfect.”
Walter picked up the cordless receiver and ordered a pizza to be delivered. Y/n turned the light back off and pressed play as he joined her couch. She took one of the couch pillows and wrapped her arms around it, holding it tighter against her chest as Anthony Hopkins’ stare met hers.
As the movie continued, her body seemed to slowly inch closer to him, her fingers soon gripping the sleeve of his shirt. His attention shifted from the movie to her when he felt her grip, he was tempted to place a comforting arm around her shoulders, until there was a knock on the door.
Y/n reluctantly loosened her fingers, allowing Walter to go to the door. When he returned with the pizza, so did the space that was there between them earlier, but it didn’t last long.
Plates were sitting discarded on the coffee table and y/n was again pressed to his side as the movie began to reach its climax.
Walter’s hand found hers, his fingers clutched her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She smiled, snuggling closer to him, her head resting against his shoulder.
He found himself enjoying the close proximity, savoring the feeling of her hand in his. They remained that way until the end of the credits. As she slowly sat up, he wished the movie had been longer or for some other excuse to have her close again.
“So why that movie?” Walter questioned, as Y/n stretched her arms above her head.
“Cause I like it,” she answered simply, looking back at him.
“Looked like you were pretty scared a few times,” he pointed out and gave her a skeptical look.
She laughed, “I love scary movies because they scare me, what I don’t like is watching them alone.”
Walter shook his head and started picking up the plates and taking them to the kitchen. She shuffled in behind him with the empty bowl of popcorn.
“We should do this again soon,” she suggested. “Could become a weekly thing for us, like our end of the work week drinks.”
“Only if I get to pick the next movie,” he countered.
“Deal!” …
Walter was sitting on the couch, bare feet resting on the coffee table, the baseball game on the TV. He was dressed casually in just a white t-shirt and jeans, no suit or tie. It was a rare sight.
He took a sip of his beer and leaned back.
This was one of those rare days off where he didn’t have anything to do, he could just be lazy and enjoy his Sunday by unwinding with a cold beer.
Y/n was on the other side of the couch, twirling a pen between her fingers as she looked over her lesson plans for the upcoming week.
“Sometimes I think you have it harder than I do,” he mused, having noticed that Y/n brought work home with her daily and even worked for a couple of hours every weekend.
She raised her brow, “What do you mean? You literally catch criminals and save the country.”
“Yeah, but I work with adults who are usually capable at their jobs,” Walter elaborated, having thought about the challenges she must face compared to his. “I get to yell at people who screw up and if they really piss me off, I can fire them.”
She laughed, he had a point.
“You’re stuck with pretty much every single child put under your care, it’s a lot of responsibility,” he added. “Not everyone has the patience or dedication.”
She looked at him, her expression soft and her eyes swimming with gratitude. “Thanks,” she said.
“For what?”
“For saying that. For treating my job like an actual career rather than something that’s fluffy or cute…” she blinked away a couple of tears. “My family has always been very condescending when it comes to my career,” she explained. “They assume it’s not difficult or important. Or at least not as important as anything they’ve accomplished.”
Walter furrowed his brow, listening to her intently as she spoke about her family, about how she didn’t share their views or values, about how they scoffed at her life choices.
“Sorry,” she muttered, looking away. “Didn’t mean to lay all of that on you.”
“Don’t be,” he assured her. “You’ve got a break coming up, right?”
She nodded, “One of the perks of the job.”
“Good,” he said in approval. “You deserve a break, maybe you can even go on a real vacation.”
Walter took another sip of beer, he had racked up quite a few vacation days himself. It was a tempting idea, to get away from it all, maybe rent a cabin in the mountains and spend some time out in nature, fishing, or maybe go somewhere tropical, stay at a fancy resort where they serve cocktails with those little umbrellas.
He wondered what type of trip y/n would prefer, either way, he liked the idea of him and her taking a trip together whether it included taking an early morning hike or sitting side by side near the pool.
Y/n moved the papers on her lap over to the coffee table, and scooted closer to Walter. “So who's winning?” She nodded at the TV.
“Yankees,” he answered, casually putting an arm around her shoulders as they both watched the game.
…
Walter woke with a start one night, his body covered in a cold sweat. The red light of his alarm clock read 2:00 am. He groaned, rubbing his forehead, before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed.
He knew it would be futile to try to go back to sleep, and even if he could, he didn’t want to return to whatever nightmare woke him in the first place. Rising to his feet, he quietly made his way downstairs.
He turned on the TV, turning the volume down. He wasn’t in the mood to actually watch, but it felt better to have it on compared to sitting alone in the dark.
His head perked up when he heard footsteps coming from upstairs.
Y/n rubbed her eyes as she reached the last step. “Hey,” she croaked, seeing Walter on the couch. “Can’t sleep?”
He nodded, “You?”
“Thirsty,” she answered.
He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees, listening as she went into the kitchen. Walter closed his eyes, only for them to snap back open when he felt y/n’s hand on his shoulder.
He lifted his brow as she peered worriedly at his face. The hand that had been on his shoulder slowly crept to his face, gently stroking his cheek with her fingers.
For a brief moment, he looked vulnerable like there was something that he wanted to confess to her, but almost immediately his stoic expression returned.
“You should go back to bed,” he urged.
She glanced at the TV screen, some late night infomercial was playing, advertising some sort of CD compilation, the thought of him sitting alone like this bothered her.
“You should go back to bed too,” she retorted.
“Don’t think I can,” he murmured.
“Why don’t you try,” she suggested softly. “Or at least come lay down with me so I know you aren’t alone out here.”
Walter’s forehead creased as he looked up at her face, then at her extended hand, the same hand that had gently caressed him just a couple of seconds ago. From what he’s learned of y/n, she was typically easy going, flexible and willing to roll with the punches, but he could tell this was one of those things where she’d be willing to put up a fight.
Accepting her hand, he rose from the couch and followed her upstairs. She pulled him into the guest room and climbed into bed. He stood there for a moment, awkwardly, until she patted the space next to her expectantly.
“This really isn’t necessary-“ he started and then sighed, y/n appeared exhausted, her eyes slowly closing and snapping back open as she tried to stay awake. “Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Sliding under the covers beside her, he pulled the tired woman close, her head resting against his chest. Her fingers absentmindedly drew slow circles over his skin until she finally fell back to sleep.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his own hand now tracing up and down her upper arm as he listened to her breath. The weight of her arm and head draped over his chest made him feel grounded, stable. …
Walter’s eyes were still closed when he could hear his alarm clock faintly beeping. He didn’t question why it sounded so far away, and instead he reached out and felt around on the nightstand, trying to hit the snooze button.
He cracked an eye open after several failed attempts, peeking at the nightstand he didn’t see his alarm clock… or his glasses.
Suddenly he was very aware of the weight on his chest and beside him. He must’ve fallen asleep, he half smiled at the realization. Maybe y/n had the right idea.
With a steady hand, he eased her arm off his chest and slipped out of bed. Before quietly exiting the room, he leaned over y/n and pulled the blanket back over her shoulders, his thumb gently caressed her cheek as he admired her for a moment longer.
…
The assistant director reviewed the case files multiple times now, the serial killer had been arrested and was currently locked away while awaiting trial. All the evidence seemed to be in correct order, the man they had taken into custody had access to all the victims, and he fit the profile.
Of course, the suspect was claiming he had nothing to do with the murders, but he was unable to provide any sort of alibi for his whereabouts either.
Walter knew this was going to happen sooner or later, logically he was aware that this was a good thing, they caught the bad guy and y/n was now safe, but he was struggling with the fact that things were going to go back to how they were. His apartment was going to feel quieter, darker, emptier without y/n being around.
He could ask her to move in with him, he snorted as the idea crossed his mind. He’d probably come off looking like a nut asking her to keep living with him.
Taking off his glasses, he sat them gently on his desk as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He should probably tell her how he feels first before even considering asking a question like that anyways.
Grabbing the telephone receiver he quickly dialed his home phone.
“Skinner residence,” y/n answered in a cheerful tone.
“Hey,” he greeted in return, slightly swaying in his office chair, eyes returning to the files on his desk. “What do you think about going out for dinner tonight?” He suggested.
“Oh? What’s the occasion?”
“I’ve got some… good news,” he explained.
“Must be some really good news,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, I think you’ll be happy to hear it,” he stated, though from the tone of his voice, he didn’t seem too thrilled.
Hanging up the phone, Walter proceeded to dial the number of a restaurant he was familiar with, one that was quiet and intimate. When the hostess answered, he made a reservation for two at 7.
Now he was left to decide what news he wanted to share with her first.
…
Y/n scrambled around the apartment, digging through the bags she packed, hoping she had something nice, like a dress to wear. She gave a relieved sigh, when she found her favorite dress at the bottom, hopefully not too wrinkled.
She shimmied out of her outfit and slipped into the dress. Then rushed into the bathroom to fix her hair and make up.
She twisted and turned in front of the full length mirror in the guest room when Walter arrived.
“Are you ready?” He called from the living room.
Grabbing a pair of heels, she slid them on before skipping downstairs.
Walter was waiting at the landing, hands tucked in his pockets. “You look,” he paused, trying to pick the right word. “Stunning.”
Y/n gave him a dazzling smile, “And you look incredibly handsome, as usual.” She gently smoothed the lapels of his blazer.
Walter rolled his eyes and she playfully pushed him. “It’s true though! You always look good.”
“We better get going,” he said, opening the door to the apartment. “Our reservation is at 7.”
After locking up, they headed towards the car. Walter got the passenger side door for her, before getting into the driver's seat and departed for the restaurant.
Walking toward the entrance, he held her hand. This was different compared to their other outings, more official, a real proper date. Despite having gone out to bars and essentially living together, he was still feeling those first date jitters.
There were two things he was hoping to accomplish tonight, one was letting y/n know that she was safe and the other was establishing where they were at with this relationship.
Walter held the door open for her and then followed her in. The restaurant was like how he remembered, dark tile floors, ambient lighting, candles on each of the tables. The food, if he recalled correctly, was good, fresh, portions were on the small end but that was usually the expectation for a place like this.
The hostess led them to a nice table by a window. Walter pulled a chair out for y/n, waited for her to sit down before taking his own seat.
“How was your day?” He asked, giving the menu a once over before directing his attention to her.
“Exhausting,” she replied, sighing heavily for exaggeration. “The end of the school year is always rough… there are so many things that need to get done before break.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Well, I could use someone big and strong to move some furniture around for me,” she smirked.
“I believe I qualify as big and strong,” he pointed out. “What do you need moved?”
“Student desks, my desk, things like that,” y/n shrugged.
“I’ll see if I can clear part of my schedule,” Walter stated offhandedly.
“Oh, you really don’t have to,” she said quickly, slightly panicked, leaning closer to him. “I was mostly kidding.”
He placed his hand over hers, his thumb tenderly stroking over the top of her hand, “I wouldn’t volunteer to help if I didn’t want to help.”
When the waiter came by, Walter released y/n’s hand. The waiter filled their glasses with water and took their drink order.
“So what about you, how was your day?” She asked, changing the subject.
“Productive,” he answered vaguely, he still was hesitant on sharing the information of the arrest with her, but it also wasn’t right of him to keep it from her. “Actually,” he added. “It’s part of why I wanted to go out tonight, to celebrate.”
“Oh?” Her eyes lit up. “Let me guess… Are you getting promoted? Receiving a plaque that says best FBI Assistant director? A new copier in the office?”
Walter chuckled dryly, eyes flickering to his hand that was fidgeting with the table cloth, “We’ve apprehended someone who fits the profile of the serial killer.”
Y/n blinked, processing what he said slowly. She should be happy, right? They caught the guy, that’s a good thing. Now her and a lot of other women were a little safer.
She mustered up a smile, “That is good news.”
Walter nodded, tearing his gaze from the tablecloth to the beautiful woman sitting across from him. “I bet you’re excited to be going back to your own place.”
She bit her lip, holding back on saying all the things she really wanted to say, like how much fun she’s had living with him, how nice it’s been to have his company, and how she didn’t want to leave.
“Yeah, I guess everything will go back to normal,” y/n finally said, her voice wavering just slightly.
“Is everything alright-“ Walter began to ask until the waiter reappeared ready to take their orders.
Y/n seemed to have recovered from whatever was making her upset, so he dropped the subject. They talked about their work day, shared stories, and asked each other questions about their lives and childhoods.
The waiter came to clear the table after they were done with their entrees, and left behind a dessert menu for them to review.
Walter shifted in his seat a little and cleared his throat, their little date night was coming to a close quicker than he’d like, “There’s something else I’ve been wanting to discuss with you tonight.”
She laid the dessert menu down and tilted her head looking at him intently as he continued.
“I’ve been thinking about us, and how I’d like to continue seeing you, preferably under more official terms,” he proposed, sounding so formal that y/n couldn’t help but smile widely.
“So, what you’re saying is that the assistant director of the FBI is officially my boyfriend?” She teased.
Walter made a face at the word ‘boyfriend’, it seemed so juvenile especially for someone his age, “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”
She laughed, “Can’t wait to brag about you to all my friends and coworkers.” Her hand reached out across the table, fingers twining with his. “How about we share dessert,” she said, lifting the menu again.
…
They stumbled through the doors of Walter’s apartment. He had barely closed the door before y/n’s fingers curled around his tie, urging him closer as their lips desperately collided.
Walter planted one of his hands firmly on the wall next to her, his palm completely flat, supporting his weight as he leaned forward. His other hand ran up her arm, shoulder, and then snaked around her neck pulling her closer to him.
His tongue swept across her lip, in response she parted her mouth.
With her eyes closed, she loosened his tie before fumbling with the buttons of his dress shirt. After so many mornings admiring his bare chest, she couldn’t wait to feel him under her own hands.
She was going to miss those moments, watching him prepare breakfast in just his pajama bottoms, or seeing him reclining in his chair wearing a tight white t-shirt.
God, why did it hurt? Why did it feel like he was kicking her out? She was aware that it was all temporary.
She was still going to see him, they were still going to go out, but it no longer seemed like enough. None of it would be enough to satisfy her, especially now knowing what it was like to see him practically every night and every morning.
Walter pulled away when he felt something wet on y/n’s cheek. His brow furrowed with concern.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered breathlessly.
“It’s nothing,” she lied, a few tears trickling down her face.
“Are you sure?” He pressed, taking off his glasses and tucking them into his shirt pocket. He tried to look into her eyes but she turned her head away.
She was so upset with herself for ruining the moment. Stupid thoughts. Stupid brain having to think those things instead of just letting her enjoy what was happening.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she sniffed, straightening herself out. “I- I should probably start packing anyways.”
“It’s pretty late already,” Walter reminded her. “You should get some rest instead, your apartment will be there tomorrow night.”
Y/n nodded, “Yeah, you’re right.”
Walter watched as she retreated upstairs back to the guest room. Sighing heavily, he removed his tie and finished unbuttoning his shirt and headed for his bedroom. He placed his glasses on the nightstand, then removed his shirt and tie resting them on the back of the chair.
He collapsed onto his bed, rubbing his face with both of his hands as he wondered about what went wrong.
…
Y/n stood in the middle of her apartment, something was off, she couldn’t put a finger on it, but it was like things weren’t exactly where she had left them while she was gone. It had been bugging her since last night, she kept tossing and turning, mind racing wondering what it was that was giving her the creeps.
It had to be her imagination, right?
She cautiously paced around, studying every little inch of her home. Nothing seemed to be missing, so it’s not like she had been robbed, and it’s not like the place had been trashed either.
She tried to rationalize it, explaining to herself that being back just felt odd because of how much she enjoyed staying with Walter, almost as if her subconscious was making up excuses.
But as she looked closer at the framed pictures displayed on her bookshelf, she could see that they had all been slightly moved. There were faint lines she could see through the thin layer of surrounding dust.
God, she had to be going crazy, rubbing her head she tried to recall if she had moved them recently, because that would make sense, it had to be that. It would be completely insane to believe that someone snuck into her apartment just to move around her photographs.
Y/n took a few deep breaths and tried to ignore the violating feeling, and go on with her evening. She did admit to herself that she was tempted to call Walter, but he was still at work. She knew that just speaking with him would make her feel safer, but she’d feel like such an idiot if nothing was actually wrong.
She bit her nail, now examining her bedroom. Her eyes darted from wall to wall, searching for anything out of place. But nothing was jumping out at her. Maybe she really was just being paranoid.
Walking around her bed, she paused feeling something unfamiliar under her barefoot. Stepping back, she crouched down, fingers feeling around the plush carpet until she found whatever she had stepped on, a cigarette butt.
Where did it come from? Her skin crawled, staring at it in the palm of her hand.
Despite the fact that her suspicions were confirmed about a stranger having recently been in her home, the evidence only made her more upset. Breathing fast, she stumbled back into her living room grabbing her phone and dialing Walter’s number.
…
Walter was sitting at a long wooden table, half listening to his colleagues as he looked over the paperwork relating to their meeting. The voices around him seemed to drone on and on, becoming white noise in the background.
Suddenly, his cellphone rang, breaking the monotony. He gave the people around him a quick look of apology as he pulled his phone out from his pocket to ignore the call, only to change his mind when he recognized the number.
“Excuse me,” Walter cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “But I need to take this.”
Stepping into the hall, he finally answered. “Hey, is everything alright?”
“I-I’m not sure,” y/n said uneasily. “But I think someone has been in my apartment, at first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me but I found a cigarette butt… I don’t smoke… I don’t know anyone who does, I don’t know how it got here. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s going to be alright,” Walter said in a calm voice, listening to her sniffling on the other end. “Do you still have the spare key to my apartment?”
“Um, yeah, I do.”
“Good, why don’t you go to my place? When I get home we can both go to your apartment and figure out what’s going on.”
“Okay,” y/n sniffed. “I can do that.”
“Alright, I’m going to see if I can get out of this meeting, I’ll see you soon.”
…
When Walter arrived home and found the door to his apartment still locked, he knew something wasn’t right. Opening the door only confirmed his suspicions, instead of being greeted by y/n, he walked into a dark empty apartment.
He could hear his heartbeat, hammering in his ears as his mind went straight to the worst case scenario… Did they get the wrong guy?
Immediately, he raced back to his car. In a reckless fashion, he backed up and sped out of the parking garage.
Swerving through traffic, he called her phone only to toss it on the passenger side seat when all he got was her answering machine. He inhaled deeply through his nose, his jaw clenched tightly as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
“There’s still time,” he muttered to himself, he had to stay somewhat level headed if he was going to be of any help to y/n.
Going over the details of the crimes in his head, he knew the killer usually kept his victims alive for roughly 24 hours. He had just spoken to y/n an hour ago.
In all the cases there were no signs of a break in, suggesting that the killer either had access to their homes or was someone people trusted.
“She’s fine, she’s going to be okay.”
The victims were killed in their own homes, which meant that y/n should still be in her apartment. He just needed to get there. His foot pressed the gas pedal harder, not caring at all about how fast he was going.
The wheels of the car screeched as Walter took a sharp turn right.
Finally reaching her apartment building, he put his car in park. He didn’t bother with the elevator, running past it towards the stairwell.
As he climbed the stairs, Walter had an inner monologue, convincing himself that he wasn’t going to hold back any longer, that life was too short for him to take this relationship so slow.
He promised himself that he would ask y/n to move in, who cares if they’ve only known each other for a few months, if it makes them both happy, then why not? And they were going to go on that trip, any trip to anywhere, a road-trip, a cruise, it didn’t matter. He would take a whole week off and spend each day with her.
He was going to take advantage of this opportunity, this possibility to have a life with someone he cares about, to have a life outside of his work. He figured this was a lesson worth learning twice, to not pass up or wait too long on the things he wants.
It didn’t matter if their relationship lasted for the rest of his life or just a few years, it would simply be worth it in the end.
Walter unlatched his holster when he reached her floor, his fingers curling around the grip as he removed his gun. His hands were steady as he approached her door at the end of the hall.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, side pressed against the wall as he listened near the door. It was quiet on the other side, which could be a good thing or bad.
Cautiously, he tested the knob, and just like he assumed, it was locked. Without wasting more time, he kicked the door open. Doors and locks could be fixed after all.
Creeping into the living room, he immediately noticed the scattered items and broken trinkets. His eyes scanned the room, hoping his loud entrance hadn’t forced the attacker’s hand into doing something rash.
The door to her bedroom was ajar, pushing the door open further, he saw y/n with her hands and feet bound and tape over her mouth. Seeing him in the doorway reignited her efforts as she struggled against the restraints.
As he attempted to crouch down beside her to help, he was blindsided, his back hitting the floor as he was tackled by the assailant. Walter’s gun fell from his hand, landing beside him on the carpet.
His attacker took advantage of his disoriented state, landing several blows before Walter recovered.
Grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt as he swung his fist, hitting him square in the jaw. Quickly, Walter reached out for his gun, his index finger curling around the trigger as he fired.
The killer fell over unceremoniously, dying from a single bullet wound to the head.
Walter stepped over him, immediately returning to y/n’s side as he untied her wrists and ankles. He held her, her body trembling as she sobbed, soon sirens could be heard as emergency vehicles arrived.
The street outside of y/n’s apartment was glowing now with red and blue lights. She was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a fleece blanket wrapped around her frame. Her eyes closely followed Walter as he discussed the situation with the officers who arrived at the scene.
Several concerned and nosy neighbors had made their way out of their homes to figure out what was going on. Calm and authoritative, Walter took control, quickly shutting down the prying questions being asked by civilians and directing the officers and agents on what to do before approaching the paramedics.
His stern expression softened when he saw y/n. He leaned against the vehicle beside her. “The paramedics say you are free to go.”
Fear crossed her face at the thought of returning home, there’s no way in hell she was ready to set foot back into that apartment, especially not alone.
Walter looked at his feet and rubbed his head, “I was thinking, it would be best if you came home with me, unless there’s another place you’d like to stay.”
Her eyes went wide at the offer, but she rapidly nodded her head.
“I think they’ve got it from here,” he commented, watching for a moment. “Let’s get going.”
Carefully getting back on her feet, Walter wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her towards his car.
The drive was quiet, his eyes focused on the road making sure to get them home in one piece, while y/n buried her head against his shoulder, hand clutching the front of his shirt.
Without turning his head, he placed his hand over hers, trying his best to console her. His thumb stroked over the back of her hand for the remainder of the drive.
She clung to him as they walked from the parking garage to his home.
“Not that I mind being close with you, but walking up the stairs might be a challenge,” he said trying to lighten up the mood.
She smiled, her first smile since all this went down.
They opted for the elevator as they were both physically exhausted. When the doors opened and they entered, Walter pulled her into an embrace.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her, kissing her forehead. She whimpered a little as he cradled her against him, but she soon composed herself when the elevator dinged.
Stepping into his apartment, she felt relieved, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she went into the familiar space.
Walter’s fingers reached out and hooked around hers. Y/n didn’t question him as he led her upstairs to his bedroom.
He released her hand and headed directly toward the attached bathroom, leaving her to stand awkwardly in the middle of his bedroom. His room, similar to the rest of the house, was sleek and minimal. He had a desk in the corner, a large bed with matching nightstands, and opposite of the bed was a TV stand.
She jumped as she heard the shower being turned on, full blast.
“You should take a shower, it’ll help,” Walter said, emerging from the bathroom. “The water should be warm enough now.”
He retrieved his bathrobe from the hook on the back of the door and handed it to her. She slowly walked towards the bathroom, but hesitated, turning back around and looking at him.
“I’ll be right here,” he promised.
Y/n closed the door, leaving it unlocked. The small room was already steamy thanks to the hot water. She placed the bathrobe on the sink counter, before taking off her clothes.
Alone, she noted that everything she did seemed slower, like she was moving in slow motion. Everything that happened earlier seemed like a blur, it all happened so fast.
She recalled getting off the phone with Walter, and how valid she had felt after the call knowing that he believed her. Before she even had a chance to grab her purse she was attacked. She remembers trying to fight back, grabbing whatever was in reach but it wasn’t enough.
Y/n closed her eyes tightly fighting back tears as she stood underneath the hot water.
…
Walter stretched his arms above his head, but then drew them back down, wincing as he realized how sore he was. As he removed his suit, he saw bruises along his back and ribs beginning to form. He didn’t remember getting hit so hard, but he was probably running on adrenaline for most of that fight.
Pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms, he sat on the edge of his bed and placed his glasses on the nightstand. He stared at the closed door, resting his elbows on his knees.
He considered going downstairs just long enough to make y/n a warm cup of tea or hot chocolate, but remembered that he promised he’d be right outside the bathroom waiting for her.
The minutes ticked by slowly as he waited. His mind returned to all those thoughts that had gone through his head when he rushed up to y/n’s apartment. He was still determined to act upon them, but probably not tonight. Today was already overwhelming enough for her.
He raised his eyes as he heard the door open. Y/n’s hair was still wet, her arms wrapped around herself while dressed in his bathrobe.
Even with the remaining drops of water from the shower, Walter could tell y/n had been crying. He figured that she would be a walking bundle of nerves and would need to be treated gently as she recovered, despite whatever brave face she was putting on.
Thanks to his position and military experience, surviving life threatening scenarios had become somewhat routine, but he could still recall how it was after the first time, the jitteriness, the feeling of being on the brink of spiraling, but most of all he knew how important it was to stay with her. It was too easy to get caught in the web of that moment, reliving it, and cycling through every moment.
“Need anything?” He asked.
She shook her head.
“You sure? I was thinking about making myself a cup of hot chocolate.”
She smiled, “That does sound nice.”
Even though he told her that she could wait in the room, she still followed him into the kitchen. She watched him gather the ingredients and mugs from the cabinets.
Her eyes widened as she noticed the red splotches on his back under the bright kitchen lights.
“You’re hurt,” she mumbled.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Nothing broken, just a little sore.”
She frowned and almost as if he could read her thoughts, Walter continued. “This isn’t your fault, none of what happened today is your fault.”
He handed her a mug, holding it with both hands, y/n felt the warmth permeating her cool skin.
“Thank you.”
“C’mon let’s get to bed,” he nodded towards the stairs.
“Together?” She asked, her heart skipping a beat.
“If that’s alright with you,” Walter added, shrugging his shoulders. “I just assumed you wouldn’t want to be alone right now.”
“Yeah,” she confirmed quietly, not at all surprised by his thoughtfulness this entire evening. “You’re right.”
Sitting on his bed, they idly sipped on hot chocolate while flipping through TV channels before settling on Seinfeld reruns.
This was nice, an unexpected ending to such a horrible day. Y/n looked at Walter from the corner of her eye, his legs were crossed, arms resting over his stomach, chuckling dryly over some joke, his half-full cup sitting on the nightstand forgotten. It was strange how these mundane and simple moments with him brought her so much joy.
If only all days could end with hot chocolate, late night television, and Walter by her side.
Setting her empty cup on the nightstand next to her, y/n laid back on the bed, her head resting against Walter’s shoulder. Reaching over, he turned off the lamp, but left the TV on.
Having her near like this felt right, like that empty space in his bed for the last couple of years was waiting for her to fill it. It was the same with his life, it was fuller with her around. He probably laughed and smiled more these past few months than he had the entire year.
“What do you think about making this arrangement permanent?” Walter asked suddenly, even surprising himself.
Y/n lifted her head, looking him in the eye, “You mean like us living together?”
“We can bring your stuff over from your apartment here,” he elaborated. “I’m willing to part with some things to make room for yours, you can even redecorate the place, I don’t really have an eye for that sort of thing anyways.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“I know that we’re still in the early stages of our relationship but I honestly think that this could work-“
“Yes,” Y/n practically shrieked, some of her liveliness returning to her. She bounced practically on top of him, her hands on his shoulders. “Yes, I’d love that,” she repeated more calmly.
Walter smiled, “Then it’s settled, we’re roommates.”
Her hands moved to his face, cupping his cheeks as leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss was sweet and slow, it wasn’t motivated by lust like the kisses they had shared a couple of days ago, but instead was an expression of her pure affection.
She lowered her head onto his chest, his hand lazily drawing circles on her back.
Deciding to go all in, Walter asked another question. “How about we go on a trip next month? Somewhere quiet and relaxing.”
She nuzzled against his chest, he could feel her smiling on his skin. “Or we could just stay here… not leave the apartment or your bedroom at all for a whole week.”
“We can do that too, if I recall you’re starting your break soon and I’ve got plenty of vacation time saved up… we could do both.”
They discussed plans for the near future into the early morning, until y/n finally fell asleep, her head tucked under his chin, both of her hands pressed against his chest with his arms securely wrapped around her.
…
It was quiet, so quiet compared to the usual city noises that y/n was so accustomed to, no horns honking or constant traffic outside, here there was only the occasional bird or rustling from the wind.
Pushing the curtain open she looked out onto the lake, the morning sun reflecting on the calm waves. She couldn’t be happier with her and Walter’s choice. The cabin was reclusive and cozy, surrounded by tall evergreens. It provided lots of privacy, giving the illusion that it was just her and him all the way out here.
She closed her eyes, leaning back against Walter as he peppered kisses along her bare shoulder. His lips moved up towards her ear, giving her lobe a gentle tug with his teeth, before he whispered in her ear.
“Come back to bed,” he breathed, his voice low and deep.
Y/n laughed, twisting around to face him, they had already spent the day before in bed and it seemed as though he had the same plans for today.
“What about all those things you wanted to do, the fishing and the hiking and all of that?”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” he murmured, gripping her chin and leaning forward, capturing her lips in a kiss.
She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck as she reciprocated, her soft lips pressing against his just as eagerly. The sheet she was using for modesty’s sake, slipped off her form, pooling around her feet.
Without breaking the kiss, he took a few steps back, successfully leading her back to the bed. When his legs hit the mattress, he sat down pulling her along with him.
Y/n smiled against his lips, now straddling his thighs with her knees on both sides of him, resting on the edge of the bed. His large hands were on her hips, helping to hold her up.
Her breath hitched as he sucked on the nape of her neck. Over the last few weeks he had become somewhat of an expert on her body, catching on quickly to what she liked and how to make her squirm.
Her hips rocked against him, causing him to hiss, his cock hardening underneath her. His fingertips pressed down firmly on her skin as she continued. Her body was so warm, soft, he loved the feeling of her skin under his hands.
With ease Walter flipped her over onto her back and climbed on top of her. His hands caressed her sides leaving a trail of goosebumps as they traveled lower.
Her back arched when his fingers delved between her folds, stroking and circling over her clit. She moaned, desperate to be filled after his teasing.
His hand moved to his crotch, slowly stroking his cock. He teased her slit with the head before easing it into her needy cunt. Leisurely, he began moving his hips, rocking in and out of her.
Looking down at her, chest rising and falling, he was reminded how crazy he is over her.
Cupping her cheek, he kissed her again, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip, urging her lips to part. Her mouth parted and her tongue met his. He hummed, leaning further down as the kiss became more passionate.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to fuck her deeper. She was so hot, wet, and felt so good. He furrowed his brow, focusing on how pleasurable it was being inside of her, but he was determined to make her cum first.
Y/n gripped his back, nails digging into his skin, writhing as she got closer to her own release.
He increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster. Soon Walter was panting, his warm breath fanning over her sweaty skin. His arms firmly placed by her head as he held himself up.
She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she came. Her legs around him tightened, holding him in place as her walls spasmed around his cock.
Y/n continued to writhe while Walter resumed moving his hips. His thrust became erratic as he neared his own climax. His fingers curled around the sheet as he finally came.
He hovered in place, catching his breath before falling onto his back beside her. The only sounds in the entire cabin were them breathing as they basked in the afterglow.
“Better than fishing?” Y/n asked playfully, rolling over onto her side, one of her legs draping over his.
Walter hummed in agreement, while placing his hand over hers and bringing it to his chest.
She giggled, “We could’ve just stayed home, y’know, to do this?”
He peeked an eye open, “And miss out on all this peace and quiet? We still have 5 more days, we’ll get around to other stuff eventually, and who cares if we don’t…. It’s our vacation.”
