⊱ ۫ ׅ ♱ ⋆ ｡ ࿐ sleeping next to 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 during summer nights.
SAM WINCHESTER who´s become your personal human heater, makes winter nights feel different now—warmer, softer, no longer fighting the cold under thin motel sheets; instead, it´s now replaced by the warmth of his body against yours. of course, sam has never minded the closeness, if anything, he adores it: loves the way you fold into him, melt under his hands, weighing over him with an arm around his middle and legs intertwined.
it´s a sweet yet simple routine he´s grown used to, the quiet comfort he´d spent so long searching for, somehow manifested in cozy cuddles and body warmth. but during the summer? let´s just say that it becomes a bit unbearable.
one night, you’re lying on your back, halfway through your second dream when you feel a heavy weight settle on your side—grounding rather than crushing, but still there. you ignore it at first, not thinking much of it.
but after a few minutes, that weight turns into a slow, creeping warmth that envelops you until your whole body feels like it´s overheating. you force your eyes open, blinking through the haze, and there he is, the culprit: his hair is all over the place, splayed on your pillow while his arm cages your torso, his head nestled into the crook of your neck. you make an attempt of mumbling out his name, voice low and still laced with sleep.
you clear your throat once more, and you find your hands threading through his hair absentmindedly, “sammy, you´re cooking me alive, move.” though your words come out without any real force behind them.
still, he doesn’t move, and all you get in return is a small, protesting sound to the side of your neck. you try to ease yourself out of his hold, rolling onto your side, but the second you move, he’s next to you again, chest pressed up against your back while his head finds its usual spot on your neck, his 6’4 frame shadowing over you in an instant.
you sigh and scoot farther from him, but it´s useless—he reels you back in, trapping you under his embrace again. when he finally wakes, rubbing his eyes as he slowly adjusts to the darkness, he just stares at you for a hot minute before mumbling, “you run cold.” and then has the audacity to press his forehead to your shoulder like that explains everything, leaving no space between you while you´re seconds away from evaporating into thin air.
and what´s worse is that he believes in it, he thinks it´s sweet reasoning.
“cold? sam i´m literally sweating through the sheets.” you groaned in exasperation, looking down at him with every intention of giving him an earful, but the second your eyes land on him, your voice falters.
he just gives you that look—puppy eyes, bottom lip jutted out in a pout and all. you quickly avert your gaze from him, refusing to fall for his antics because he knew exactly how to get his way, “don’t give me that look, you’ll make me feel bad.”
he smiles, head tilted to the side, “is it working?”
cybella’s thoughts⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ small small fluff blurb i wrote yesterday when i was dying bc of the freaking heat oh my lord save me from this heat wave please!!!
tagging my sweetest lola <33 @samwspn ty for helping me choose my sammy pics for this!!
⤷ looking for more ? here’s my masterlist !
