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ᯓ★ j or jee 22 they/them . . . .ᐟ

— MDNI mature ; self-insert ; spn themed AU fics ; mostly sam and dean centered

ꉂ`♯. now playing ⌞ kamal. - a minute phone call ⌝

— links : : . . . tiktok | ao3 | spn spotify playlist

masterlist is incoming .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ꩜

Library window and green line ⊹ ࣪ ˖

pairing : stanford!sam winchester x reader

summary : hooking up with your classmate didn't actually make things awkward. you're still study buddies, hang out together, and it's fine, until you end at his place once more. and once more.

warnings/tags : MDNI, smut. study buddies to lovers, angst (just a little), non-sexual intimacy, emotional intimacy, pet names, make out, dry humping, you talk him through it, cursing, sam puppy agenda keeps going, self-insert, no mentions of y/n. (and brief mention of alex and claire <3)

wc : 8.8k

notes : thank you all very much for liking my stanford sam!!! <3 it made me really happy and definitely pushed me more to get back into writing!! im feeling more at ease with this pt2 so it's even more fun for you and me!! enjoy <3

⟡ part 1 | part 2

──────────────────── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The huge windows in the library never failed to amaze you. The building was actually holding so much space and those windows were bringing so much light and life. The architecture around it was even more breathtaking and it always made studying feel so far from a chore.

You were sitting by one of those windows that looked directly out onto the garden–at a desk right next to it, covered with your books.

You spot a long-haired black girl on the bench who you remember from one of your classes last semester. She's studying to become a nurse, if you're not mistaken, and is also working as a nursing assistant at the hospital near the school. You interacted only a few times with her back then but she was always really nice and sweet to you. Another girl is sitting next to her too, a long blonde-haired one. You're not even sure she's pursuing a course here, but you've seen them often hanging out together. They're sisters apparently. And the blonde girl always looks so cool. She always has that perfect curly hair as well as a leather jacket and some really nice boots that you'd sure like the reference of. She absolutely looks like a Barbie biker.

A small smile appears on your face at the sight of them and you get back to your book when a drink is placed next to your hand.

“Hey.”

It makes you look up at the voice. “Oh hey, you!” You mouth a thanks for the drink. “What happened? You’re early today.” You say with a teasing grin.

The said person fakes an upset eye-roll and sits on the chair in front of you. “Ha. ha. Very funny. I’ll have you know that I actually am not always late. Whatever.”

“Sure sure, and whatever helps you sleep at night, Sammy.”

Sam rolls his eyes once more but gets his stuff out of his bag anyway.

You push your books a bit aside and get your laptop and your notebook ready. “Alright, so what do you have for today?”

He stops in his motion and sighs. “You know.. Finals..”

“Again. Ouch."

“Yep..”

Sam gets his laptop on the desk and immediately drops his head in his arms.

Being a student majoring in law was sure a thing, but the law exams were sure a whole other thing. He once already shared a bit of the struggle about it so you can just imagine how he must've been feeling recently.

Sam loves what he is studying. But damn you really have to keep the hard work up.

And you know he's definitely capable, because Sam is a really great student and doesn't have to prove anything to anyone anymore. Except to the examiners, of course. It seems like it's putting a lot of pressure on him.

“It’s alright, you know your things and you're gonna work on them and we're gonna make them stick to your big brain, okay?”

This made him get a breathy laugh out of him.

You look at his hair and his shoulders for a second before continuing to speak, “And we can grab some food when we're done.”

Sam eventually looks up and nods. “Oh you,” he points at you, “you definitely know how to motivate me.” You both smile at this and he finally opens his laptop, not before letting out another sigh.

You both took the Friday-afternoons-studying-meetings pretty seriously actually.

You finished your project, well-done finished it, and ended this class with a nice comment from your teacher as well as a very pleasing grade on the paper. You guys were so happy, and glad, and relieved that all the efforts you made and all the time you spent on it have been rightfully rewarded.

You and Sam really made a great team and pushed each other to be the best you can be.

Because, contrary to what one might think, the stormy winter night didn't make things weird between you two.

Sure! It had been fun, and, a very appreciated time. But you both agreed that it had been some sort of ‘two friendly and consenting grown adults assisting each other when the moment was needed’ situation. And that ‘it shouldn't stop you from hanging out together'. And that it was totally ‘okay’.

You actually thanked each other the next morning. Sam thanked you. First. Of course.

And you can't lie when you say you were a bit taken aback by how easily and normally he was taking the situation. I mean, he was right, there was nothing wrong with what happened. Really not.

Hooking up with one of your classmates, at said classmate’s room, however, was honestly not your usual go-to Friday night.

You had eaten a quick breakfast this morning before getting yourself back home, though not before Sam insisted that you text him once you got back safe. You only went to get your bike back once the weekend was over.

And what can you say? Things just happened like that.

Sam didn't start to act like a stranger in the hallways, and you surprised yourself to be relieved of something you didn't even know you were being worried about.

Because the truth is, you ended up really liking Sam. Actually.

Spending time with him was always great. You started to notice you were way less over in your head, more focused on the present, what was happening before your eyes, like watching Sam trying to explain some part of his course.

You liked how that made you feel.

And, well, obviously you liked the intimate part.

You were just glad that Sam seemed to have stayed Sam. Glad too that he acted and managed the situation the way he did, because you’d have probably gotten all awkward and avoidant on your own.

Again, impulses like that truly are not your usual motto.

So when he asked if it was okay with you to keep your study afternoons a thing, you couldn't help the easy smile that formed on your lips.

The habit that he picked up a few months ago of bringing two drinks to you guys didn't stop, either. And it felt nice. You and Sam just fell into another simple rhythm over the last few weeks and it felt good to have that sort of stability.

Today's study afternoon was not any other easy one and you decided that you really did deserve some food. You opted for a truck around campus that made well-known tasty burgers, like, that sauce? Man, chef kiss.

The meal went smoothly. You were at ease with each other and you surely didn't miss the opportunity to laugh at Sam’s face when a too-big bite made him lose half the ingredients of his burger. You're also pretty sure that the truck guy slipped a quick snort behind his hand at the scene.

Pretty fair, as a spectator too this was a very funny scene for you. Poor Sam.

But he did get a free portion of fries as compensation for his heartbroken stomach, though. That, he liked.

You took a small walk around campus after that, crossing paths with the campus cat. He was always super friendly and demanding of caresses and Sam didn't spare a moment before crouching down to pet him. After saying bye-bye to the kitty he walked you back to the storage where your unfamous-famous bike was waiting for you. He wished you a good night, to be safe on the roads, a hand on your shoulder lingering a second too long, and waited for you to be completely out of his sight to turn back heels and head back home.

Tonight too you did end up staring at your wall, once again.

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

You barely saw Sam in the hallways the next week. It made you tick a bit, because he has his schedule and you have yours, but again, you usually ran into each other between those walls. It quickly became a habit for you two. You no longer share a class together so it's nice knowing you still kept a bit of a bond despite not being project partners anymore.

It really did appease your heart, honestly. You and Sam didn't have the same major, at all, so keeping the Friday meetings was a really nice offer and it did help you both make a bit more time to study, calmly.

We’re mid-week and okay yeah, you're surprised you’ve not seen Sam yet.

You could text him. Actually.

You do have his phone number now.

But.. Would it be okay though?

You don't want to push. Or seem clingy. Hell no.

But, well, you can't lie that you're worried, just a bit.

And it wouldn't hurt, you know, just making sure, checking in. Because he's your friend, and you care about him.

You stare empty for a moment.

Okay. Alright. It's just a text, it's fine.

Neither you nor Sam is much of a texter actually. Just, for basics, and it seems like it was not much needed between you two anyway. That's in fact pretty okay because again, something with Sam feels very not-forced, and tranquil.

Alright.

Cool.

You let out a sigh, wet your lip out of habit, and eventually get your phone out of your pocket to open the conversation.

Your fingers stay still for a few seconds, thinking about what you could type. Again, no pressure. It's chill. Yay.

You

Hey there, how u doing? Didn't seem to catch you in the hallways the last few days so im just checking in :)

Alright, alright. That's good.

You see your screen lights up. A reply arriving way faster than you were expecting–you were not expecting any to be honest.

Sam

Oh hey! Thx for doing that, that's actually super kind of you. Um, I think I got sick, haha.. No big deal though! just been trying to rest lol.

You

Oh boy what?? You sure you fine? I can bring you some medicine or some food if u need.

Sam

No no I’m fine I swear! I really am. It's nothing serious, i've just been tired yk :/ I’m actually recovering already, i've got stacks of painkillers or stuff for a potential fever :D

You

Alright… you better keep taking care of yourself okay? And don't forget to drink a ton of water ! ! !

Sam

Ma’am, yes ma’am I’ll make sure of it ! ! ! But seriously, thank you for checking in, it's always nice to know ppl care about you :)

You

Ofc you idiot.

Sam

:D

You heard your teacher enter the classroom and briefly gave the room a glance before typing again.

You

Wtv, hope you'll be better soon and that we'll be able to see each other next friday (–.– )

Sam

We can still meet this week yk??

You

You sure? you'll be okay??

Sam

Duh! Imma a big boy what do you think!

You

If you say so -_- do you want me to meet at yours maybe?

Wow. Okay. You didn't plan to say it like that but it's, okay! Gosh.. why talking to a boy has to be this knot-in-the-gut feeling. Ugh.

Sam

I was actually thinking abt asking you the same. Not feeling much abt going out or to the library tbh, that'd be nice! I hope it's fine for you :,)

You

You can't see but I gave you a big eye roll rn. Ofc it is. See u on friday then!

Sam

:p

You stared at your screen a little while longer. Well, it was pretty unusual not seeing Sam around the campus so you’re actually glad you checked up on him.

Also, you're going back to his place.

Well, that, you didn't plan either.

It really seems like you can never anticipate or predict anything when it comes to Sam. Damn.

You let out a little sigh and give yourself a nod. But you're glad, too. You're happy you're seeing him again, and also that you'll be there if he feels sick again.

You're glad you can be here to care for him.

And behind his screen, Sam is too. For a quick second, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy over his little chest to know that you were thinking about him and texted him.

Loneliness isn't much fun, especially when you're practically forced, like this, to spend time with your own self. That's why Sam hated being sick. He had to learn how to care about himself before learning how to take care of himself. Even before anyone could start worrying about him.

And it felt like he was starting to see just a light, shining very brightly and vividly next to his own little light.

Sam smiled to himself before taking another sip of one of those horrendous sick-curing drinks with god knows what herbs in it. “Eurk. Gosh.” He shook his head and scrunched his nose before diving back into his notebook.

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

A knock on the door made Sam jerk his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his hand.

“M’comin!” He shoots from where he is standing before quickly rinsing his mouth.

He rushes to his door and finally opens it to you. “Hey, you.” He says softly, his eyes landing on you.

Oh, that sweet smile. You missed it.

“Hey, big guy. How are you feeling today?” You ask while coming in, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder and Sam is closing the door behind you.

“Uhm, I'm fine I think.” You walk over to the table, putting down your bag. “At least I'm definitely feeling better than on Monday, that's for sure, so I guess that's a big win. I'm still drinking that awful herbs-y drink or whatever it is, just in case you know. And, oui, I do drink a lot of water too.”

You let out an amused huff at the clarification and smile proudly.

“Attaboy.”

“Damn right I am.” He playfully gave you a nudge back to the shoulder and you rolled your eyes.

He then offered you something to drink, other than his medicinal monstrosity, thankfully, and you both settled back at the foot of the bed. The same spot you were a few weeks ago. Yep.

It just feels kind of comfy alright. And the carpet under you is actually nice too so, okay.

You both get your laptops on the coffee table, side to side, shoulder-to-shoulder already brushing, barely. Sam seems to be working on some big chapter of his course. Yikes. Big fish indeed.

“You kept studying all week?” You ask, wondering if he ever rested.

“Well, it's not like I could afford not to.” He pinches his lips together. “I did manage to rest, got knocked out by exhaustion. But yeah no I kept working. This is some serious stuff I must remember for the finals so I had to make the most of it.”

“Damn Sam, you really are a workaholic.”

“Hey! I’m good at what I’m doing, okay! I’m great even.” He puffed out his torso and grinned, teasing.

“Alright alright, Mister Sexy-Big-Brain. You still gotta take care and not strain yourself too.”

Sam gives you a quick nod. “I know I know, I told you I’m a big guy I can handle the sick-me.”

“Hmm.” You throw at him a fake-suspicious look, squinting your eyes. “You better watch out, I've got my eyes on you Mister Big-Guy.”

You mimicked two fingers going from your eyes to his and you actually succeeded in making a genuine laugh come out of him. Laughter was so communicative you dropped the act in an instant to join him.

“Oh man, I’ll make sure I behave correctly then I got it.”

You lightly punched his arm, just to keep the playfulness up. “Yeah, you better.”

Sam shakes his head, a warm smile still on his face and he sits back properly, ready to work on what looks the closest to Hell for you.

You hear him let out a breathy chuckle before you can even open your laptop.

“You did say you thought I was Sexy.”

“Geez Sam!” You let your head fall backward on the bed and cover your face with your hands. “I did not say that. Not exactly. Not really at least.”

He's laughing out loud. “I know I knowww, but it's fun, I'm just teasing. I'd just have to admit I did like the Sexy-Big-Brain Me idea.”

You sighed with your shoulders, glancing at him from the side. “Of course you did.”

The laughter slowly but softly died down in the room as you two started to focus on the work and studies you must be doing.

The current atmosphere felt great, and for the first time you were seeing this room, his room, basked in this very nice mid-afternoon light. It contrasted with the snowy and gloomy day from last time and made the room feel different.

You don't even feel as nervous as you once were, here, at this exact same place. The unknown-first time of anything is always pretty nerve-wracking. And especially if it's about a boy. Fair. But, you've been accustomed to each other's presence since then, and it's so good to finally be able to enjoy your time without relentlessly spinning in over your head.

The day is well underway by now and you've scattered notes and books on the floor, making it easier for you to navigate through.

The sun has already come to settle between the buildings, playing with the green line, but not so yet. It’s generous enough to give you guys a little more of its unwavering burning flows. And you appreciate it.

You're getting yourself another glass of water when you hear Sam actually groaning and it makes you turn over.

“Hey, you okay there?”

His facial expression is twisted when he realizes you're talking to him.

“I'm just–I’m feeling extra tired today I guess. I mean, I've managed to keep the pace up over the week but I fear it's playing on me now.”

You come back to sit next to him, observing and analyzing his face, the tension in his shoulders and certainly in his neck too.

He stays still for a moment, his eyes closed and his hair ruffling the slightest on the bedcover.

You're still looking at his face and you can't help the corner of your lips dropping a bit. It saddens you to see him in that state. He always works so hard and so diligently and he gives his studies genuinely the most of his time.

You can see his torso rising. Every muscle in his face seemed tense, especially his jaw, and he got his fists closed, too.

It must be so damn frustrating for him.

But it's clear that his body is signaling him to do something, to take a break, to rest, or to take a damn whole hour bath or whatever. He needs to slow down, now.

“You need anything?” You try, tentatively, gently.

It makes his face relax almost immediately, for a split second and his whole body moves when he snorts. “No, thanks though.” He pats your hand that stayed close to him on the floor, making sure you don't take his answer as a way to push you away.

“Maybe you'd like a hot chocolate, you know, to save you from whatever you’ve been having these days now.”

His whole body laughs, a little, and he eventually re-opens his eyes.

“Now that you mention it, I’m practically certain that a hot chocolate is actually the cure I need, ohh my god.”

“Haha, right. I know, hot choco is always the best.”

He nods, “Hm hm, that is very true.”

You chew on your lips while trying to think of something, anything that could help Sam soothe his inner pain, even just for a bit.

“I.. could maybe cook you something..?” The words fade in your mouth as soon as you say them. Even yourself, you're not sure of that.

He peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, a brow arched. “That's something you do?”

You look behind him, at the window, your mouth slightly agape before looking back at him, your lips flatlining in defeat and shaking your head.

His shoulders giggle for him. “That's what I thought.”

“Sam, I'm sorry.”

“Hey, what? You're no witch or anything like that, there's not much you can do and there’s no need for you to feel sorry. Don't worry, I'll be fine, I am fine. As I said it's just the chaotic week catching up on me, it's alright.”

“No but,” you let out a sigh, “I really wish I could help you, you know, do just a little thing. But I don't have any doctor-y knowledge nor any cooking skills to serve you. I only know how to like, perfectly pluck eyebrows, and give massages, I guess.” You're rolling your eyes when you say it.

Sam turns his head to you. “You know how to do that you?”

You give him a shrug. “Well, yeah, my mom used to work as a beautician and she shared some stuff with me from time to time. It was pretty useful actually.” Your eyes drift away, smiling, thinking of the memories.

“That's actually pretty cool, hey.”

“Right.”

The silence smoothly settles in between you two and your smile hasn't left your lips when an idea crosses your mind. It comes as quickly as it leaves and you try your best not to blush when you’re daring to grab the thought back.

You chew on your lips, again, wetting them, and nibbling at your own cheeks inside your mouth.

“I could..” You start. “I could give you a massage, if you'd want of course.”

You see Sam’s eyes growing twice bigger in a snap of a finger, staring at the ceiling.

“I mean, you know, try to release some knot-tension in your shoulder surely, and your upper back. Even your lower back, if you feel anything, I know it can fall to the lower part sometimes.”

Sam hasn't said a word yet and you're immediately feeling goosebumps rising on your skin. The doubt, that you must surely have crossed a line there, established itself in the cracks of your chest.

Your body starts to move around, trying to physically balance the panic creeping in on you right now.

“You know what, haha, forget it.” You shrug, trying to play it cool, nonchalant. “That was kind of dumb of me you know, I’m not even that good at it, it's just something my mom showed me, what? Once or twice. Pfft.”

“Yeah, why not.”

“What?” You snapped your head so fast it's like you almost got whiplashed.

“...The massage. I think that would do me some good, actually.”

Oh god.

“Uhm.. yeah right, absolutely.”

Stupid you. You'll think about it twice next time before you say anything stupid like that again.

Now you have to deal with it.

He's moving now, positioning himself in front of you, back at you. You're still both sitting on the floor, you have your back against the bed and Sam is waiting there, patiently, in front of your legs, tall torso and broad shoulders right before your eyes.

“Wouldn't.. wouldn't it be more comfortable for you to lie on your stomach, like, on your bed?”

“I'm gonna fall asleep the second I properly hit my bed.”

“Right. Got it.”

“Is it okay for you? Me sitting like that?” He turns his head to the side, checking with you.

“Oh yeah no sure, you're fine, don't worry.” And you actually gulp. “We will mostly focus on the upper part, as I said.”

“Alright ma’am, I'm all yours.”

Fuck.

That's a new low, even for you Sam.

Sam had taken his shirt off for the massage. You had an entire new stars-filled territory in front of you and it kind of made you lose the very little confidence you had before.

You get your hands closer to his body, and you can actually feel the heat radiating from him. You're not even touching him yet. And you can feel it right under your palms, flowing through your arms to the back of your neck.

“Alright.” It's more of a murmur to yourself than anything else.

The next second your hands are on him. You see him slightly jerking at the touch, just out of instinct. And you start pressing.

You know your rodeo, you used to do it often for your mom when she’d come back from work, or your friends even. You had magical hands, they said.

It takes you literally a few seconds to find the spots and press just right. And man is he tensed.

“Damnit Sam, try to relax a bit.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best there.”

You keep pressing, intently, and you focus on his shoulder blade first. You can feel it right under your fingers and you let your eyes travel. You stare first at his neck, his hair coming to meet right at the junction and his head is titled down.

Instinctively, one of your hands comes to grab his chin from behind and gently lift up his head.

“Keep it up for me Sam, it’s gonna be useless otherwise.”

You hear him instantly choke on his breath and, in a blink, you feel a strong shiver running down his spine, under your contact. It makes a shiver run a sprint right down your own spine.

You bite your bottom lip in your next breath and for a quick moment you close your eyes, trying your best to re-focus. You swallow. It's hard.

For the next few minutes, you push any intrusive or misplaced thoughts that may come to your mind. If the soft breaths you're hearing from Sam right now are anything, it seems that what you're doing is actually working.

“You still with me? You okay?”

He mumbles something, nodding. You’re moving next to his vertebral area now, and he arches his back.

“Sorry, reflex.”

You don't answer and try not to think much about Sam being sensitive here.

And God knows where else.

Fuck.

Nuh-uh.

Stay focused.

Your little session kept on going on for a few other minutes and Sam let out a one deep sigh when it finished.

“Like, wow, I feel like a new man.”

You chuckle and shrug a bit. “I told you my mom handed me over some pretty useful skills.” You wiggle your fingers, plastering a proud smile on your face.

“Thanks a lot by the way.” He’s getting up, stretching. “That may help me sleep better tonight, at least I hope.”

“I sure hope so too. I know working is important to you but you also have to take care of yourself, Sam.”

He's looking down at his feet, almost shy. “I know, thank you too for doing that so for me.”

You give him a bigger smile this time and look out at his window. “I should probably head back home already.”

He looks up at you and nods, “yeah of course, thanks again, for coming, and keeping me company, and for..” he trails a bit, “you know, the massage. That was nice.”

You're feeling the blush climbing right on your cheeks right now and try to calm it down.

He walked you to his door, a hand just inches from your lower back, and smiled you goodnight.

That night you went back home and took a hell of a long shower.

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

The following week flew by and you're meeting again this afternoon with Sam to study. His finals dates are coming up soon if you remember correctly and he's working twice as hard now. He recovered just fine, by the way. He texted you over the weekend, saying that he actually listened to you and properly rested. He said he had the longest night he ever had after you left. You chuckled at that when you received his text.

Also.. You couldn't help but think about what happened last week. Maybe, twice, or thrice over the last few days. It's a bit hard to process, okay, you were not expecting this lowkey non-sexual sort of intimacy thing to happen between you two. Weirdly enough your heart has beaten way harder last Friday than during.. whatever you two did.. a few weeks ago.. And that says a whole lot !

You're trying your best to be normal and remain sane, but you can remember the heat right there under your palms. And the little sounds he was making.

Because he was feeling good, better. You were making him feel good. And that thought sends a new shiver through your body, this time right up to your neck and your hair.

If you're honest, yes, this is making you feel kind of nervous. Obviously. But again, Sam is taking the situation so normally that it automatically forces you to ease your own inner self.

You’re on your way to the library, bag on your shoulder and music in your ears when you run into your teacher, from last semester's class. You politely greet him and he congratulates you once more for the work you and Sam provided. He asks how you both have been doing and wishes you the best for the rest of your respective studies.

You arrive at the main entrance of the building when you realize the door won't open. You furrow your eyebrows and look around. You walk a bit along the walls and try to get a look inside and you're taken aback when you see nobody, literally.

“What the hell?”

You stop your music and get your phone, dialing Sam’s number. You didn't even have to wait for the first ring before he was already answering. You ask over the phone, confused, as to why you couldn't get in. A few seconds of silence passed before Sam announced to you that the library was, in fact, closed today.

“What do you mean??”

“I think there's some kind of public holiday thing if I remember.”

You mentally facepalm.

“And you couldn't have told me beforehand??”

“Hey there easy tiger! I didn't know about it until literally a minute ago. I was grabbing my keys when you called, and I checked on the website when you mentioned it.”

You sigh defeated and let your head hang down.

“You can always come by mine if you want, you know.”

Yeah, you know. And you also know that you shouldn't be surprised anymore by this kind of stuff, but it inevitably always does something to you.

You don't think much about it and accept, already heading to Sam’s place before even hanging up.

And he's already waiting at his door, for you, leaning all tall and smiley against the wall when you get there.

“Man.. If I had known I would've stayed home.”

“Like, you'd have taken a single vacation day from working?” He's closing the door behind you and you're already walking to the table. Like usual. Because it seems like you're becoming a regular here.

“Nah, you know I can't pass on revising but at least I wouldn’t have had to get ready to go out you know, and pack a bag and all that.”

“But you would've not seen me, and missed me sooo much a lot and that would've been such a shame. Right?” He's smiling at you like a maniac, his dimples showing, batting his eyelashes at you.

His beautiful doe-like eyes.

“Sure. Whatever.” You grab a glass of water, mostly to distract yourself. But you're moving around the space like you're in your own kitchen, and Sam is just letting you be, watching you.

You try not to think much about it.

The afternoon passes quietly. You're both sitting in your usual spot, working side by side, silently, sometimes mumbling some words from your courses.

It's peaceful. It's quiet.

The silence is not awkward. It never really has been, honestly. It's just you, and Sam, in your own little world. And it hits you way harder than you'd have ever expected when you realize that, it may actually be just what you always wished for. Just being able to be yourself, not pushing and feeling comfortable around someone. You had always found that being in Sam’s presence and spending time with him was soothing you.

As if just knowing that he was right there beside you was healing something inside that you didn't know even existed. That's what Sam was doing to you. That’s what Sam started to mean, to you.

You're staring blankly at your papers when Sam loudly sighs beside you. He has his head tilted, resting in his right palm and he has some sort of uneasy expression on his face. Not very Sam-like.

Your own expression suddenly shifts to something more serious. You move the slightest towards him, leaning just a little to try and catch his eyes. You see him swallow and tentatively take a quick look at you.

“What's going on?”

He wets his lips, sits up straight, and sighs once more. It looks like he's hesitating.

“It’s..” he starts, crossing his arms, the back of his head resting on the bed behind him. “It’s just, this, all of this. It’s so much. So many things to–to know, to remember. So many things to kind of put into practice but at the same time not so much, you know, because it's just school and we're just learning. A–and it's so important too. I’m literally studying law, people’s trust is literally gonna be on me. That's such a fucking big responsibility. My knowledge and the way I execute things could change someone's life trajectory.” He's venting. His neck looks tense, like his throat is dry and he's looking at the wall when talking, his expression now turning saddened, anxious. “I’m sorry I didn't mean to..”

And you feel your heart breaking just a little hearing how stressed Sam is feeling right now. It’s pretty fair, that's actually a big deal and he's feeling so much pressure. He's putting so much pressure on himself too. He wants to succeed. He wants to be good. To be the best.

He wants to be useful and trusted. So he can finally be acknowledged.

Sam has always been good at standing big and tall and fierce and proud. But you see him literally starting to crumble in front of you, right before your eyes and your hands. And it's painful.

All he is feeling is understandable, and you're breaking for him. It's not fair. He shouldn't have to carry all that weight in his heart.

You're just a few inches from him and you can literally sense his crazy heartbeat right here. His chest is twisting, and twisting.

You're holding back your tears and he's chewing on his lips when you place your hand on his shoulder, empathic, finally looking at him.

He closes his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows and it's like he's on the verge of breaking.

“You know, I’m proud of you Sam.” Your voice comes out way more like a whisper than you intended to.

His eyes flicker.

“I’m proud of you. And I believe in you, so much you have no idea.”

He calls your name, barely like a breath.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Sam. I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” You pause for a second, trying to search for his eyes. “You're literally the sweetest person I may have ever met. I admire how hard-working you always are, how you never fail to be polite and kind, and respectful and you're always the first one there if any help is needed. Sam, you're so good. And you literally have the most charming smile I've seen.”

The last words managed to get a chuckle out of him and in an instant, you're smiling big, feeling the atmosphere relaxing even the smallest.

“But seriously, I really hope you understand what I’m saying. Because I’m not saying that out of pity–I know you'd hate it, or just to be nice,” you shift again, pushing on his shoulder and getting his attention on you, “I truly mean it, Sam, deep from my heart.”

He's looking down, before speaking. “Thank you.” His voice is small.

You pinch your lips, oddly feeling lighter than ever. “And I like being with you.”

And in a blink of an eye he's looking at you. Finally. Properly.

Your facial expression loosens a bit. “You're always making me feel calm. You know, I can easily escape in whatever is happening up here in my head but, unconsciously, you've always managed to keep me down to earth, with you, and real. It has always been easy to be around you, to talk to you, to listen to you. I feel safe with you. And you make people feel seen too. You made me feel seen. You make everything feel quieter when you're near. I can't really explain it, but this is what you do. You bring peacefulness around me, Sam.”

Silence is flowing between you now, and around the room. You don't realize much of what you just did. You didn't really mean it to, like, happen like that? Kind of? It's just, the spur of the moment made you feel brave enough to let out all the things that were being held in your big little heart.

And, oh, it actually feels really great, waw.

You chuckle to yourself and refocus on Sam’s eyes for a second. And he's still looking at you the same way he was before your little speech. The haziness of the situation is creeping up on you in a flash of a second and you start to panic.

You give Sam an awkward smile and start to back off. But you don't even have time to catch your next breath before one of his hands is grabbing the side of your neck and the next very thing you know is your brain processing the touch of lips on yours.

It's sweet, of course. Sam’s lips are not chapped, they're actually really soft and you realize you didn't even notice it the first time. He's moving slow, you feel him trying to take his time with you. He's pouring all of the things he's having in his own very big little heart to you. Words are at a loss at this very second.

Much to your own surprise you actually kiss him back on the very next one. And he's breathing all warm and heavy on your mouth, coming to grab the other side of your neck, making sure you can't go anywhere. He's bringing you closer to him at the same time, making you grab on his damn shirt for support.

You have to break the kiss yourself to finally get some air flowing through your lungs.

“Gosh, Sam.” You're all breathy, and he's too, plastering the same expression he had a few weeks ago on his face.. His glossy eyes are always making it for you.

“You really meant it? All of it?” He's breathy too, his eyes are closed, focused, his forehead on yours.

“I do, I did. I meant all of it Sam, I meant all and everything that came out of my heart.”

He's breathing on your mouth again, agitated. His rumbling heartbeat is taking all over his body and you feel his hands shaking on your sides. The shiver is big this time, it's running across all of your body and makes you flutter your eyes. The anticipation is crazy. And Sam is so fucking warm already.

“Show me.” It's barely a whisper.

“What?”

“Show me how you mean it. Please.”

You're pretty sure the sound that just came out of you was an embarrassingly loud whimper.

Sam is brushing his lips on yours, not even kissing you, barely kissing you.

“Please sweetheart, baby, please, I need it.”

And you're feeling yourself instantly melting. Fuck.

You try to kiss him again but you're so clumsy. Your brain is so fogged right now and you don't know what to focus on first. You want everything at the same very time. You're feeling completely helpless and you're whimpering even more. It's ridiculous.

You're still just two hot breathy messes and you try to catch his lips again. Sam actually kisses you midway and you're pushing on him even more. Your hands move to his hair, and you grip, tight. You don't pull. Not yet at least. Just gripping.

And you're kissing deep. He's first to push his tongue against yours and ask for entrance. You gladly let him pass and you feel him losing himself in the moment. You can actually taste him on your own tongue. His own hands now move to your back, he's bringing you closer to him, always closer, as if it were even possible.

His palms are all splayed on you and you're pretty sure it's actually taking half of your body. The thought is making you tremble and lose your balance in the kiss. Sam takes advantage of it and backs you against the bed. He has a leg over you now, almost straddling you but not exactly. He moves, urgently, hungry, needy. He leaves your mouth to your throat and the sensation of his saliva on your skin makes your head fall backwards. You breathe hot.

“Are–Are you okay?”

You're still gripping Sam’s hair and he's looking up at you, all big round shiny eyes. Waiting so patiently for you to answer. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah yeah I’m good I swear.”

“Y-you sure? It's okay?”

You breathe hot, again. “Please Sammy be a good puppy and keep your mouth working.”

And you're pretty sure his whole entire body just trembled between your hands and you feel him crumbling on your lap.

His nose finds itself under your jaw, near the junction with your ear, breathing you in. He's still trembling. He breathes, weakly. “Yes.”

You instinctively pat his head, softly, gently. “Good, that's good baby you're good.”

And he's licking at your neck. Like a good puppy. He's licking stripes on your skin, kissing you all wet and loud while his hands travel to your waist, getting under the fabric of your shirt. He's touching all over, mapping your back, your skin, the sensation under his digits. He circles his arms right around your body, like last time, and it brings him impossibly closer to you. He's nestling right against you, all big and warm and shivering.

He's still kissing you when he tries to shift his posture, his hip brushing against you and you actually feel his body stuttering. He's right in the crook of your neck, his head resting on your shoulder, panting. He’s a mess.

You’re scratching his head, slowly, trying to soothe him down, caressing his back too. You give his forehead a soft kiss.

“You okay?”

You feel him nodding against you.

“It's better if you use your words, Sammy.”

The hair on his arms is rising and you can actually feel it.

“I-i’m okay. ‘M good.” His voice is small, and you take in the moment to try and calm your own self down a bit.

You've never seen Sam like this. All that pressure, and the tension in his body he was feeling, certainly fighting too, have just released into his actions. And he's looking so pathetic right now. But in the best way possible. He's all relaxed limbs against you, warm, breathy, needy, and kissy. You move your arms to embrace him. You're shorter than him but oddly enough he fits perfectly close to you like this. You press him against you, against your body, chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin and he's gripping on around you even tighter. He's breathing hot in your neck, once more, but it's lighter this time, almost like a relief.

And you two stay a moment like this, intertwined with each other, both of your eyes are closed. All warm and safe.

Sam is slightly shifting, again, and you feel more than you hear some sort of whisper-y strangled noise coming out of his throat.

“Shit, sorry.”

You shift your own hips, tentatively, and Sam is hissing. “S-Shit.” He loosens his embrace around your body and settles down to your hips, his own anchor point right now. “Sorry.”

“Sam.”

He hums but he's not looking at you. You call his name once more but he still isn't looking. So you do what seems the best right now, and buck up your hips.

The reaction is almost immediate. Sam’s body jerks and his head is lolling backwards, gasping for air.

“Sam.” You call him one more time and he tries his best to lock his eyes on you.

You hold your hand and caress his cheek. “Hey, you can use me if you want.”

It's like he's regaining consciousness and he blinks at you. “What.”

You lift your thigh, just a bit, like to demonstrate, and he's gasping for air, once again.

“I’m right here. Right here right there for you,” your hands find his hair, naturally, “you can relax. You deserve it, just let it go. I've got you.”

Sam is biting hard on his lower lip now, shaking in anticipation and want. He wants it. He wants you. For once he can have something he wants. It makes him hesitate for a few seconds.

He's looking intensely at you, searching for maybe a contradicting sign on your face but all he can get is hunger, too.

His eyes turn pleading and he's finally, finally rolling his hips down on you. It's instant. He moans. Loud.

“Fuck.”

You move your fingers up in his hair, getting your grip back. “It's good, right?”

He nods and you pull his hair, just very slightly. “Words, Sam.” His breath cuts and he swallows his own saliva. “Yes, yes yes.. i-i want, I-I need more.”

“Of course, you've got it, baby. Go for it, I'm here.”

He lets out a plea, like a cry, and presses down on your leg. He must be feeling really sensitive down there by now because the twists his face is doing right now are nothing but art to you.

“That's it, keep it going.”

He's pressing down once more, his nails actually digging in your skin, his sweaty forehead still in the crevice of your neck and shoulder, all against you.

He's getting a rhythm, he's not fast but he's not so slow either because he's burning with wants and he's still as needy as earlier. You're both moaning, your mouth to his hair, breathy, when you travel down your hands to place them on Sam’s lower back. You give it a gentle push, testing.

And God is he loud. It's literally music to your ear. Absolute music. You wish you could record it right now. Just to keep it for yourself.

You keep doing it, very gently, not pushing too much, letting him do most of the work. And to be honest, Sam feels like he's about to go crazy. He still has you between his hands, he's feeling you between his legs, and now his lower back is all warm too. He can't keep it up. Your skin is damp with all his breathing and he's almost drooling.

Fuck. That's one image you're sure to neatly keep in a corner of your head

“Alright, you're almost there baby,” you're encouraging him, now meeting his movements midway, “c’mon, I’m right here, you can let it go for me baby, you can.”

He's rolling his hips down once, twice, and then he's crying, loudly. “That's it Sam, that's it, c’mon let it all go. You did so well.” He's finishing and you can actually feel it through both of your layers. You should feel disgusted. You don't.

Sam is draped all over you now, heavily panting and coming down from his high. You're running a hand over his back.

“You did good Sam, you did really good.”

You feel him nodding against your body, agreeing. “Thanks.”

You chuckle and softly give a slap on his back. “You really gotta stop thanking me when we get intimate.”

Now he's laughing. “Hey, I can't help it if I’m too nice, you know.”

You roll your eyes but you're smiling big and he's caging you in his strong arms, making you balance and fall to the side. He's hugging you like a koala and is still laughing. You can definitely feel him more relaxed. His muscles under your hands are not tensed anymore, the knots at the back of his neck have come undone and the warmth he's radiating is even soothing you.

“I knew you loved it by the way.”

“What?”

“Baby.”

You groan. “Oh my god, Saaam!”

“What! It's the second time we're being all intimate and touchy and I said it and now you said it too!”

“It's just– I just thought you'd surely like it, too.”

Now Sam is grinning at your attempt to explain yourself. “I do.” He gives your neck a freshly new kiss. “I liked the other one too.”

You blink, and it takes you a second to understand what he's talking about. Once you realize he actually meant the ‘puppy’ other one, you instantly feel the heat coming to your cheeks, embarrassed. You're quickly retrieving your hands to hide behind them.

“Haha hey no need to hide, it's alright. I told you I liked it.”

“Yeah yeah no I know, I mean– I got it. It's just, hm, it just came out like this, you know.”

“And it's alright. You did well too, by the way.” He's grinning ear to ear when he sees you getting even more embarrassed. Your chest is about to explode.

He’s gently grabbing your wrists, planting a kiss on each of your palms. “And, just so you know, I feel safe with you too.”

It makes you open your eyes back, staring at Sam, crimson blush still painted on your cheeks and you melt.

It feels good. It feels so good, your heart is so light right now. You look at him, endeared, and you mouth a ‘I like you’. It's barely above a whisper, barely audible and Sam’s smile grows bigger in a second. “I like you too. A lot.”

The confession makes you giggle because the scene looks like you're just two shy teenagers right now. And you're still dirty.

You kiss Sam, deeply, sweetly, and slowly. There's no urgency anymore, the world is still running outside and you spend a few more moments like this, lying on the floor, on the carpet, caressing his hair, feeling his heartbeat against yours.

You guys both eventually get up and get cleaned, Sam is landing you some sweatpants and t-shirt of his, again. And you love it, actually. His clothes feel comfy and soft on you, and above all, they smell like Sam. It's like he's hugging you. You really love it. You’re thinking about borrowing one of his for your own wardrobe, permanently ! Could discuss it hm hm.

You come out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth, and Sam is already lying under the sheets, all relaxed and soft. He looks so cute, like really cute. You walk over there and give his nose a little smooch, it makes him giggle and that's a sound your heart is printing, just for you to remember. His eyes look up at you and he opens big his arms, for you, inviting you in. You happily climb onto the bed, snuggling right into his embrace and Sam takes a deep breath. A real deep breath. Like he finally can properly breathe the moment you're in his arms. You lock your arms on his back and intertwine your legs, your head is safely tucked under his chin. Your chests are one against another and he's running his fingers through your hair, slowly, rubbing his other hand all over your back.

“I really should thank our teacher.”

“What do you mean?” You mumble under your breath, feeling yourself already drifting away by the rhythm of his hands.

“He's basically our wingman you know, somewhat despite himself.”

“Hm, hm.”

A few seconds pass before Sam speaks again. “I'm really glad I arrived late too that day.”

“Yeah?”

“Hm hm. You were the first one in the room catching my eyes, and when I got paired with you I really thought I just got lucky.”

You chuckle softly against his skin. “We do make a great team together.”

“We really do.”

He's kissing your forehead before shifting on the bed. He's bringing the sheets back up and making his hold around you better, warmer.

Keeping you closer to his heart.

pt2 should be coming over the weekend and pt3 early next week, surely !!

Forgotten bike and borrowed shirt ⊹ ࣪ ˖

pairing : stanford!sam winchester x reader

summary : you and sam share a class and get paired together for a project. and during these months, the aisles of the library witness a story unfolding before its shelves.

warnings/tags : MDNI, no smut but mature and suggestive. project buddies to lovers, hurt/comfort i guess, cursing, pet names, consent is hot, sam puppy agenda bc i can't help it, self-insert, no mention of y/n

wc : 6.9k

notes : been a hot minute since i wrote anything so im feeling a bit rusty icl, but i ended up having a lot of fun with this one so i hope you'll enjoy it too ! :)

⟡ part 1 | part 2

──────────────────── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The lights of the room are too bright and people's chatter too loud for a Monday morning. You managed to drag yourself out of bed the best you could today, and still you're honestly reviewing and pondering every life choice you've made so far. Young-student-adult life really isn't for the weak.

You sat at the almost-back of the room because that's your favorite spot for classes. Not too close, but not all that far, just enough to keep a bit of focus.

Majoring in the study of people and their society was sure a choice, but having to decide on some optional-but-mandatory class was sure something else. And it so happened that the ancient almost dead-like language class seemed to be the only not-so-bad one fitting in your schedule. Carpe diem, right. Or whatever.

Class had started just about five minutes before when the upstairs doors suddenly opened ajar and you saw someone, trying to discreetly rush into the room, breathless, and clearly, slightly panicked. The apparently late student gave the room a quick scan, trying not to make too much more noise, and seemed to ask a guy a few rows behind you something. He let out a sigh–loud enough to himself to realize that rushing around on this Monday morning was definitely not part of his plan for the day. He took a few steps, trying to find a seat, and decided to sit quickly at the end of your row, not wanting to draw any more unnecessary attention to himself.

Sam was actually never late, or, in this case, very rarely late.

Sam Winchester was the campus golden boy that everyone could picture in their head. Tall and broad, he got that sweet smile he seemed to give to anyone he was locking eyes with whenever they were talking. Like he always got a ear to listen to you. Always so sweet and kind. And (super) smart, you'll see him do great in all his classes, and surely in anything else he might do, to be honest. So, to see him arriving “late” to a class was clearly not an all-day witness.

He's setting up his laptop when, as he sits up, he gives you a quick little smile as he catches you in his eyesight. And It’s polite. And a bit sweet.

You give him the same little smile back and he smiles back at you, again, slightly bigger this time, like to thank you.

It's really sweet. Sam is a really sweet person. You're not close with him but, the boy is that sweet that just sharing a class with him is enough to realize that.

You do appreciate this kind of small interaction. And, actually, surprisingly, it does brighten your morning a bit.

Class goes by and you’re being in your thoughts when you suddenly hear your name from your teacher. You snap back to reality and abruptly look at Sam when you hear his name right after yours. He’s already looking at you, seemingly as confused as you are and it gets quickly embarrassing when you're still looking at each other and neither of you have any clue what's going on.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, so that would be it for this semester project pairing.” Your teacher’s voice rises again and you can’t help but let out a sigh. Right, the end of semester project. “I’m pretty much giving you carte blanche for this one. Make it good, make it great, be diligent and be smart. It's due in a few months from now on but I’d advise you to start working on it right now, slow but methodical. I know you all and I know how you work and how good of a product you can all give me.” He’s giving a glance at the room, a slight smile on his lips, and claps his hands. “That’s it for today young people, see you next week. If you have a question, at any time, my office door is open, and I’m as well one e-mail away.”

You're still sitting when you hear a rustling next to you and Sam is with his bag on his shoulder, coming your way, “So I guess this is us, partner”. He offers you his hand, like making a real deal.

And it looks so easy for him, to just come to people like that, and you snort. You break a small smile at the gesture. You reach out to take his hand in yours and give it a good shake. “Good luck in this adventure, partner.”

It makes him laugh a little. A light and soft laugh. He’s letting go of your hand and you're very oddly almost regretting it. And it makes you almost furrow your eyebrows.

You turn back to your sit and while gathering your stuff you rapidly unfocus and escape to your head, again. Right, it's these days where concentration is hard and this project thing is kind of already making you think. Because free rein is really great honestly, especially in this kind of course but at the same time, what the hell are you supposed to do? Because now you’re having a lot of options, too many options !!

You sigh to yourself when zipping your bag and Sam is nudging you by the shoulder to get your attention, “right, this homework is like giving me a headache too already, like, what are we supposed to decide on??”

You freeze for a second, looking absentmindedly at him and you don't know if it's because you’ve just discovered that Sam Winchester may actually be psychic, like a mind reader ?? or if that single shoulder-to-shoulder interaction lingered a second too long on your mind.

You and Sam then leave the classroom while discussing a schedule for working. The teacher said “Be diligent” and he's actually right. You guys want to do it right and great and work well. It’s your last year and you need to get the credits, and working with Sam on this one may actually lift a bit of weight off of your shoulders.

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

You guys agreed on meeting on Friday afternoons, you were both free from classes and the library was, in fact, less crowded at the end of the week. And you slowly learned what it was like to work with Sam Winchester. That boy was smart, really, and easy to communicate with, and for once, it felt good to not have to carry all the weight of such an important task.

You and Sam rapidly found a rhythm as the weeks went by. You exchanged ideas pretty easily, started things, modified or just erased them, but always kept on going on. You were actually working together on this project. And he was caring, not only about the work, but also caring in such a way that, you realized at some point, he was acknowledging you. He was considering your opinions and he was working with them, and his own too, and he was listening. He was listening to your visual direction ideas–that was your favorite part, but he was also able to be honest with you when things needed a modification.

It’s almost weird to you, to think about it. Because you're both grown adults in your 20s and this is serious stuff that you're studying and working on so, obviously, you want to do it well. But there seems to be something about Sam. Really.

So much that it's making you stare at your wall on one of those good Saturday early-late nights. It’s 2am, you finished working a bit on your other actual assignments and you're just sitting there, in your room. And it's so stupid to stay up thinking about a boy.

A tall, sweet, and smile-charming boy.

With beautiful hair.

Like.

Okay, you do have, in fact, already thought about asking him about his hair routine. He just genuinely has beautiful hair and it would be really not fair from him not to share.

But truly, he has been nothing but a great project partner so far. You have had some good feedback from your teacher already and went out of your way to try and make this work even better.

You've never enjoyed the college library as much as you did lately and it's good, it feels good.

Because, a bit despite yourself, you're starting to go into these Friday afternoons feeling just content. Because as soon as you walk into the room and catch sight of Sam’s chestnut-brown hair near those huge and beautiful windows, you now have that habit of letting your lips curve a bit. Because now you're used to seeing two drinks and a paper from the bakery waiting on the desk, for you. Two. And you always roll your eyes at the attention, but you always end up walking through the aisles of the library and coming to sit in the chair across from him, anyway.

Because Sam cares, and listens. He listens to you, and he has actually been spending more time with you than anyone else recently.

He likes it.

He’s used to being seen as the social butterfly of the campus, always smiling bright to everyone and for everyone, putting on small talk and asking about oneself’s life because that's just how he's been taught to be a good person. To be appreciated, to be validated. Almost like to blend in.

Sam has never really had a best friend, but he has a brother. They were close when kids but kind of grew apart when growing up, and them being different didn't help much. Their dad’s expectations for each of them helped even less.

Sam thought that, maybe if he couldn't be a good son whom his dad would be proud of then he could at least try to be good for others.

Maybe he would be loved this way. Feel loved.

Sam was never alone and yet, truth is, he somehow always ended up feeling lonely. Pretty much all of his life.

He was the golden boy of campus. Everyone knew him. Everyone knew how good and smart he was. And Everyone loved him. But he was never loved.

And he has that small voice at the back of his mind, telling him that something must be wrong with him.

Sam doesn't know if he's ever been enough.

So when it's 2pm and he hears the chair in front of him being pulled back and he sees you, he can't help but greet you with one of these smiles.

And then you're seeing him.

And you know you'll think about this smile again tonight.

And it definitely makes your heart flutter.

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

It’s been a few months now that you and Sam have started working on this project and you're finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

You do feel like the ton of effort you two put into it made a difference in your production and you're, by far, very proud of it. Sam never misses an occasion to mention it.

And considering that winter is slowly starting to show up and making the days always shorter, you're both really pretty glad that the biggest and worst part of the work is done. You truly didn't need the winter depression to come and ruin it for you.

It doesn't mean you should take things the easy way though. You still have some details to go over and the form of it to validate with Sam.

You're making it good and you're definitely making great.

It’s another one of these days spent in the library and the end of the afternoon is drawing near already. The sky is getting darker, the garden outside the windows is looking less alive than a few Fridays ago and you've gotten used to wearing a sweatshirt inside now.

Ugh, winter really wasn't funny.

You were absorbed by the paragraphs you were reading on Sam’s laptop when a sudden flash made you jerk your head up.

“What the hell?” You looked at Sam, now shortly standing next to you. He was getting you both something to drink and was back with what seemed to be two hot chocolates in his hands.

Heavy raindrops began to patter against the window, and the wind started to pick up. You groaned to yourself, head in your hands “Uhg… I’m pretty sure the weather app absolutely didn't predict that for today.”

“Right.” Sam is placing your cup next to you and you thank him with a light smile. “I already hate the winter as it is and now we’re having, what, like a winter shower with some storm?” He’s pinching at his nose bridge and you’re both looking outside, pretty much disconcerted.

You're not liking this. Like, really, really not. You're looking at the raindrops crashing onto the benches and making the ground wet and muddy. And you're thinking about your bike, safely tucked in the university bike storage, surely waiting for you by now.

You sigh, a bit too loud this time and Sam is already turning his attention to you. “Hey, you good? Is something wrong? You afraid of thunderstorms?”

You crack a ridiculous smile at this because, he really is just there, worrying for you.

“No, I wish I was, honestly, but no, I'm actually just thinking about how I'm gonna get home.” His attention is still all towards you, looking and attentive, encouraging you to keep talking. “I’m actually not living super close to the campus, I’m not that far either. Just enough for me to be okay with biking a few dozen minutes in the morning you know.” He’s nodding and you're looking at the outside once more. “Except I didn't plan this for today, at all. And even though I enjoy biking I fear I’m not very much built for crazy weather. I mean, if I leave now I could still maybe make it, I don't know.”

A few seconds of silence linger between you two and it's just the sound of the world going almost crazy out there that is filling the room.

“You could come to mine.”

You blink.

You blink once, and then twice.

And it was so unexpected that you’d almost think a bolt of lightning had frozen in midair.

And it's like you’re frozen too. You're trying to process the words you just heard. And you feel your heart hammering, down there, in your chest and again you don't know if it's the crazy weather playing on you, or just Sam.

You finally look up at him and he breaks into an awkward laugh. “I mean, I live close by. Sure it's a five-minute walk and we're still going to end up wet because it looks like really no one planned to bring an umbrella today. But it would be easier, you know.” He’s rubbing at the back of his neck, like embarrassed by what he offered, but realizing it’s too late now, and that it would also be even more embarrassing to take it back. “And it certainly is way safer. It’s already pretty dark outside and I’m not sure that's a great idea to go out there like this.”

And he's looking at everywhere now but you.

It’s not that he's regretting inviting you over, he actually is not. But it seemed that his brain-to-mouth filter pretty much gave up, and he didn't mean to blurt out the words as he did. At least not this way.

He doesn't want you to think he's weird. Or worse. Like, you're just working on a project for school, why would you even accept?

Sam is mindlessly taking a sip of his drink, trying to find his next words to apologize when he hears you softly snort.

He’s back looking at you, a surprise on his face and his cup halfway to his lips.

You're trying to suppress the smile coming on your lips because it really is just so sweet. Sam is just a genuinely sweet person and it's making your chest ache.

It never felt so good to be cared for.

And yet, it's just a dumb winter storm, and some guy from your class is inviting you over so you don't end up accidentally slipping with your bike on your way home and stupidly die.

It’s just a dumb winter storm and raindrops are pattering the world outside but you've never felt the warmth you're feeling right now.

You still have a light shy grin on and you hesitate with your answer, a bit, but you catch Sam’s eyes on you, “uhm.. it would be nice, actually. ‘Cause I really don't wanna die stupidly tonight.”

And he’s laughing. Surely a bit too loud for where he is. But he laughs, lightly, looking almost relieved by your words and he is smiling too when he gets his next sip.

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

“Come, come on in.”

You've never run this fast in your life than for the last five minutes. And that says a lot. Because you're absolutely not a runner. However, this didn't stop you, or Sam, from getting wet from head to toe.

You're now standing in his room entry, hair dripping wet and kind of already freezing. Adding to the fact that you don't know what to do, or what to say. Because yes, you said yes to Sam’s offer since it was definitely not possible for you to get back home with your bike, but you didn't think this through, obviously.

Like, are you.. gonna spend the night here?

Like.. actually?

You, in fact, didn't spend much time outside your own small apartment. Sure you do have friends with whom you hang out, regularly, but you are clearly not the type to go out for too long, or at night, or to go somewhere or do something on an impulse.

Impulses are not your thing. At all.

And yet Sam just needed to get sweet and neck-rubbing awkward on you for you to get a foot out of your bubble and gently push it away.

“Here you go.” You didn't realize he disappeared into his bathroom and went back with a soft towel for you until you had his hands right before your eyes. You look up at him and thank him.

“Um, I think it would be very much needed to take a shower and, you know, actually not catch a cold. You can go first and I’ll get you some fresh clothes of mine.” He’s already rummaging through his drawers when he turns to you and calls your name. “You okay there?”

You blink, looking at nothing, shaking your head a bit and finally nodding to Sam.

He’s coming back to you with sweatpants that are most likely going to fit a bit too big on you, as well as an oversized blue and red Spider-Man sleeveless top. He places his hand next to his mouth, like to tell a secret, and whispers almost playfully to you, “This one is actually my favorite okay, so I'm putting you in charge of it, be good.”

And if you needed something to snap you out of your own head and get your feet back on earth, that probably would be it.

You’re pretty sure your wires up there are overheating right now because this, at this instant, must have just been some electricity shock running through all your body.

Sam is still looking at you when you finally speak. “Sure, sure, I definitely need a good one.”

He’s showing you the bathroom and you lock the door the second he leaves and goes back to his room.

You're scared you're going crazy.

What the fuck was that?

Maybe the rain was so cold it froze some part of your brain and you just happened to experience a very vivid hallucination. Because you definitely didn't sense some confusing underlying meaning or anything this kind right?

You stare for a few seconds at the clothes stacked next to the sink.

Did Sam just tell you to ‘be good’?

You close your eyes and take a deep breath to actually try to center yourself back when it knocks at your back and startles the hell out of you. “Hey um, sorry to bother you but I was thinking we could get some food after all that. I’m not much of a cook and I honestly don't have a lot in my fridge right now so I was wondering if pizzas were good for you?”

You close your eyes once again and answer, “Oh yeah sure absolutely, I’m okay with anything.” You hear him agreeing behind the door and you decide that you really need that shower.

You come out of the room twenty-ish minutes later and those sweatpants are definitely too big on you. It's okay. It's actually comfy. And it actually feels great after the day you had.

You're still drying your hair with a towel when Sam is coming in just now, with two pizza boxes in a bag and positively wetter hair than before.

He’s looking like a sad puppy now and he’s brandishing the bag like some victory sign of his fight.

He rushes through the bathroom for his turn, the room dips in silence and you hesitate to sit at the edge of the bed.

This is weird to you. You do appreciate Sam. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't appreciate that almost odd little crack of closeness you're having right now. He's just being nice, and you're thankful for that. But, there are some weird little sparks, alive, somewhere on your neck or your back, or your hands maybe. You're not really sure.

Not sure of much right now, because Sam is your project partner, and you've been nothing but glad for his support all these last months and you've also been enjoying his company, a lot. It seemed to be mutual. And that felt so refreshing, and safe.

Sam made you feel safe.

And you feel safe right now. In his room. Wearing his clothes. Eyeing the pizzas he bought for you two.

You smile softly to yourself, because it feels good.

You hear the bathroom door open and here he is, plaid pajama pants on, a tee of his, undoubtedly fitting him better than on you, and some black-framed glasses that you were not expecting to see on his face.

He’s quickly finishing drying his hair when his eyes meet you. “You okay?” He softly asks.

You catch the same smile you had on a few seconds before. “Yes.”

⟢ ⟢ ⟢

Two slices of pizza are left on your plates and you're sitting together on the floor against the bed, watching a tv show about some two brothers looking for their missing dad that Sam put on.

It’s peaceful. It’s quiet, even despite the storm still going on out there.

There's only a dim light on the nightstand and the laptop screen illuminating the room. And you can actually feel the warmth emitting from Sam’s body next to you. You could also be completely imagining it, but you're pretty sure you're not because you're feeling very warm, too, right now. And your shoulders are touching, you have your legs bent and pulled up against you but you can feel his knee almost-not brushing your under thigh and you suddenly can't focus on anything anymore.

It’s ridiculous and it's nothing but your heartbeat is being so crazy loud right now you're almost feeling it in your head. And you're scared to make any movement, or breathe even a bit too loud. Because what if Sam looks at you right now? What are you supposed to do, or to say?

You're absentmindedly looking at the characters playing on the screen when you hear Sam’s voice.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What?”

“You’re there but you don't look very focused, you must be thinking about something.”

You immediately look down at your knees, suddenly aware of the situation.

“No, no I'm good. It’s nothing, I’m usually in my head you know haha,” you try, "and I must be tired, that's all.”

Sam hasn't left your face since he asked that stupid question.

“You sure?”

“Yep, yeah yeah I’m good.” You answer, obviously too quickly.

You're feeling like a prey right now, you're not daring to try to move or anything. You're not sure what's going on right now. But your heart is freaking racing. And your neck is definitely starting to burn.

Suddenly you sense Sam shifting next to you, just a little bit, but it makes him more turned towards you, so he can look at you. Properly.

He seems to grasp a few seconds of hesitation there, before speaking.

“Am I.. Is this making you feel nervous?”

You feel the knot you didn't know you had in your tummy tightening up. That's the worst thing. He’s acknowledging the situation right now and you've no damn clue how to deal with it.

“I- no, I’m fine” you try a laugh “it's-it’s just you, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

..Dear.

“It’s just, I was not expecting to spend the night here you know, at yours. I mean–I’m thankful you offered and that I’m safe, but yeah, you know.”

You awkwardly shrug and try to play it cool. It’s the best you can do right now.

Sam tips his head down a bit, his glasses sliding just the tiniest on his nose and the tip of his hair brushing ever so slightly your shoulder.

“So, I am making you feel nervous.”

Gosh It’s getting so hard. You swear your heartbeat is so impossibly loud right now that it may actually be drowning out the storm sound. No jokes.

You take a small breath, and you’re instantly feeling a ton of goosebumps at the bottom of your back.

“Yes, I guess.” You try a fake-annoyed eye roll.

And it's useless because he snorts, almost playfully, and his head lands on your shoulder.

He stays still for a moment and then asks,

“Is this okay?”

You turn your head a bit towards him, finally, confused and you see his eyes already locked on you.

And the next second he’s kissing your shoulder. Softly, all softly. The sound of his lips touching your skin is not something you were expecting, not so soon at least.

And you're currently summoning all the self-control you can to stay as still. Because your eyes are fluttering and you're biting your lip and you're one hundred percent sure now that it's your whole body that is warm. Your tummy is also going crazy by the way.

He’s coming to put his hand under your thigh, almost at the crease of your knee and you may be about to pass out.

“Is this okay?” He’s asking the same stupid question again. All softness in his voice too, sweet honey dripping-like.

And the only thing you can mutter is his name in a whisper.

“Sam..”

You feel his hold on you ever so slightly tightening.

“Please.. please, can I?”

Oh fuck no, he's not begging is he? You're also absolutely sure you're going to actually die tonight and never see your bike again.

You're closing your eyes, still biting down on your lip and you know you're shaking. You dare to give your leg a small movement and Sam wastes no time in firmly grabbing you in his hand. His forehead is on your shoulder, trying to keep control over himself too, surely.

You whisper again, “Sam, please..”

You're so tense your neck hurts.

“What?.. Is this n-not okay? Is it wrong?”

“No! No.. absolutely not,” you pause because you feel your whole body trembling by now. “It’s quite the opposite actually.”

He’s looking up at you, and you're finally properly looking at him, too, in what felt like forever.

“Sam.” It's a plea, almost like a whine. “I feel like I’m going to die.”

“Why?”

That’s when he decides it's a good time to give your shoulder another kiss. This guy is a fucking menace.

“..I just keep trembling. It's ridiculous.”

“But it's good, right?” He is definitely feeling adventurous now, because his free hand is coming to hold the side of your neck now, while his lips are moving to that same area, too.

“Gosh, Sam..”

“Please.”

You're grabbing at his wrist and he stops on his tracks, looking at you with that sick puppy expression on his face, and if you're asked about it, this may be what made you give in.

Impulses are not your thing but you sure are the one who puts your lips on Sam right now. And he’s quick to catch them, of course.

Both his hands are cradling your neck now and it's burning. His hands on you are burning, his lips are burning and your own hands must be burning too, craving to hold onto something to ground yourself and actually not lose your mind.

You rapidly find his shirt, gripping on it for dear life, breathing hot in his mouth, because the thing that is happening right now is sending you straight on cloud nine.

Fuck. He’s actually using tongue. And he’s such a good kisser, and you feel absolute greed filling you already because you want to keep those soft lips on you. And you want to keep listening to these delicious noises Sam is making.

Of course Sam’s got soft lips too, everything about him seems to be soft, and you two are moving so in sync it's like you already know.

He’s a bit rough with it though, like he's hungry, craving, yearning for you, for your lips, to touch you, to hold you. He’s so hungry that his glasses keep sliding so, in a swift move he takes them off and throws them on the bed.

And you're almost regretting it instantly. You make a mental note of it though.

He’s desperate to get you closer to him now. He lowers his hand to your back and actually pushes you a bit, to his chest. And you're moaning.

It makes you both stop, and finally gasping for air. You're looking at each other, almost lost, but intensely.

And oh he’s a sight to see. His lips are slightly puffy, pink, shiny with saliva, you know his cheeks are burning crimson despite the low light of the room, and his eyes, oh his eyes, they are pleading, and fucking glossy.

You still have his shirt in your hand but neither of you dare to say a word.

It’s not awkward. Or weird. You just need a minute. Trying to process what just happened, you know.

Sam then leans forward to close his laptop and he's now lying his head on the bed, his other hand falling to your arm and his eyes still locked on you because it seems like he can't help it.

You're fidgeting with the sweatpants cordon and your brain feels all hazy, and surprisingly lighter. You feel lighter.

Sam is looking at you so sweet, so dreamy, and you feel a pressure on your arm. He is slowly pulling you towards him, his other hand signaling you to get closer, soft hair and soft smile plastered on his face.

“C’mon here.”

And you're not hesitant this time. You move closer, never breaking the hold with his hand, or his shirt.

“Hey.” He says. You giggle lightly and he's kissing your forehead. You close your eyes and embrace this new bubble, basking in Sam’s warmth.

And you feel the urge to get more, you want to feel his skin more, and, feel closer, and touch him, map his skin.

You pause a second, and then you're swinging one leg over his lap, straddling him, still holding on his fabric. And his hands are instantly on your hips, gripping soft and tight, and it takes so much of you to not jerk at the touch.

“This.. okay?” You ask, wanting to make sure and not overstep.

“Yeah yeah, no yeah, that's more than okay even. It's all good.. you're good, perfect.”

He looks so dumb for nodding his head so fast and so much. Like a dumb fucking puppy. And you decide it's better for your own good to push whatever thoughts you're having right now to the back of your mind. Hopefully this will be for later.

Sam’s fingers suddenly move at your waist lock your focus in and you're bringing your hands to his face, caressing. Your thumb is smoothing over his still burning skin.

He seems to relax under your touch, making the time almost stop. It's only you right now, in his room and the outside seems to blur. You feel your heart actually growing bigger in your chest and it hurts, but it hurts good and you're giving Sam a soft peck.

He lets out a sigh and shifts a bit, bringing you even closer to him, both hands almost entirely circling your body and the thought of it is making you completely short-circuit and you feel your thighs shaking.

You grab on his shoulder when he's tentatively slipping his fingers under your shirt. His shirt. He hasn't looked away even once since earlier, and he's still looking at you, observing your facial expression, trying to decipher any uneasiness or discomfort.

So you give him a nod.

And in an instant he has his palms flat on your skin. You feel the butterflies gently fluttering their wings on and under your skin. It’s so much and so little at the same time.

But Sam is not giving you time to think and is back diving to your neck. You instinctively grab on his hair and he pulls you closer, even closer. He’s shaking too now. And you have the urge to feel him.

You urgently pat on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Off. Now. Please.”

He wastes no time. “Sure, anything you want.”

In another second he's stripped down to his chest, and you're touching him. Lightly. And gosh he feels so firm under your palms. And you like it so much you're afraid your chest may implode.

“It’s okay, you don't have to be shy, you can touch all you want.”

You look up at him and he's trying not-his-best to hide his smirk.

“You’re stupid, I’m not shy.”

“Is that it, hm?” He's circling your body with his arms now, like he couldn't get you any closer to himself. “Want to show me how not shy you are, sweetheart?”

And you let out some sort of strangled noise under your breath. And he snorts, almost mockingly.

You try to shift on his lap, but then he's moving too, his leg brushing between yours and you jolt.

You loudly gasp for air, “fuck, Sam, wait.”

He's open-mouthing at your neck and below your ear now, like a starved animal, rubbing his nose there and taking you all in. It looks like he's having so much fun. He absolutely knows what game he is playing, and he's good at it. Because you're melting, your limb is going completely numb in his hands and you're letting him taste you.

He’s palming at all your back and, almost automatically, you’re pressing down on him a bit, making him stutter in his kisses. “God,” he's gripping you even tighter, burying his face in your shoulder.

“Sam I swear I’m really gonna die.”

You feel his hot breath on your also hot and damp skin. “You're okay baby, you're okay don't worry.”

“Shit–Sam, you really gotta stop with this”

He’s kissing you, passionate, and deep, before speaking again.

“Stop what?”

“Th-these words that you're saying.”

“What? The sweet words? You don't like ‘baby’? Or ‘sweetheart'? I can always call you ‘ma’am’ if you'd prefer.”

And you're struggling so horrendously much at keeping your head clear, because he's all over your body now, touching you, like trying to memorize what he's feeling under his palms and his lips, for later.

And you're pressing down on him again, and this time he's meeting you halfway and you're pretty sure the thunder literally just hit you.

And he does not stop. He keeps on slowly rolling his hips under you, sweetly rubbing himself, trying his best to make the pressure good and press you just right. Your knee is brushing in between his legs at the same time too and you really hope that Sam’s dorm walls are soundproof.

He's completely lost in you right now. He's stopped his ministrations on your neck and he's just focusing on feeling you, on making you feel good, very good, because if the twisted look on your face is anything, he's having you on the edge right now.

And he can't help but let a thought flash bright through his mind. He's almost crashing to keep you on edge like this, on your toes, just right before you can't hold it anymore. Because right now you're shaking, trembling all over him, between his hands. They are so big, and so fucking warm and they're pressing down on your back just right, keeping you the closest. And you're pressing your own fingers so deep in his shoulders it's definitely going to leave some marks tomorrow.

Sam notices your ragged breath and is pulling you right into his strong arms. He’s still giving you sweet and delicious rolls down there, and he's caressing your hair, his mouth right at your ear.

“It's okay baby, you're doing so good, you did so good for me baby you can let it go.”

And you feel tears starting to roll down your cheeks. You just can't take it anymore.

And you're pleading.

“Gosh, Sam please.”

He breathes hot and you feel it. “Shit.”

He's giving you one, two last rolls of his hips, and they're so good. He hits just right and you embrace your climax, feeling the warm spread all over your body and you're gasping in his hair. Sam’s own climax is following right after yours.

And he's still gripping you so damn tight, like scared you're going to vanish now that your moment is over. He doesn't want you to leave. He doesn't want you to leave his arms. You may actually find yourself with marks on your back too tomorrow by the way.

You both went silent. The only thing in the air is your shortened breaths as you try to come down your highs, trying to steady your heart.

You're quick to find Sam’s hair in your hands, slowly stroking it. “Jesus.. Sam, we genuinely need another shower now.”

He laughs in your shoulder and his eyes finally meet yours again.

“But it was good, right? It was okay?”

“Sam, you made me come in my pants. In your pants. I’m more than okay.”

And if you felt something just now at your thigh you purposefully ignored it. Gosh, you can't go again.

He's slowly and softly stroking at your back, to your neck, your arms, when he asks you if you liked it.

Even in his post-climax bliss he can't stop caring, and worrying. And he’s looking so intensely at you right now you're almost feeling shy under his eyes.

So you just softly grab his face and kiss him. It's like a positive trigger for him and he's already one hand at the back of your head, the other on your back, and he's tilting his head to kiss you properly, better.

It's passionate, but it's not hungry like before. Your heart still feels so big in your chest and you're pouring it into the kiss.

“I really enjoyed it, Sam.” He’s tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I really, liked it.”

The admission of it is making you feel even more petite in his arms. “And, I actually like them too, the sweet words.”

Sam suddenly stops, his big, round, almost doe-like, eyes scanning your face.

“Really?”

And you're blushing even more than before, now looking anywhere but him, trying to avoid his piercing eyes.

“..Yes.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“What??”

“Come on! You can't say that and leave me hanging.”

“You know I absolutely can.” You're crossing your arms, in a fake-pissed attitude.

And he has the audacity to let a grin appear on his face.

“But I know you won't. Because you're dying to hear me call you that again. Right? Because you're my baby, hm?”

Goosebumps are instantly back on your skin and you decide you really need that shower right fucking now. You're heading towards the bathroom and Sam is actually chasing after you.

“Aww c’mon baby don't get all sulky on me right now.”

“I’m not sulking! I just need a shower!”

He leans against the doorframe, grinning ear to ear. “I guess you'll need another pair of sweatpants, won’t you?”

“You're a menace to society, Sam, you know that?”

He’s having the time of his life teasing you.

“But you like it.”

You're rolling your eyes and he's cornering you against the sink to steal you more kisses and more skin-touching.

You eventually managed to shower, without him!! You had to literally kick him out of the room because he wouldn't let go of you, his chest glued to your back.

But you're still little-spoon scooped in his arms when it's time to go to sleep. He's breathing warm in your neck, relaxed, palm flesh on your tummy, under your shirt, his shirt again. Keeping you close, keeping you warm, keeping you safe.

And you're looking through his window. The sky has cleared, clouds accompanying the moon who’s shining pretty brightly tonight.

And you drift away, the softest smile on your lips, instinctively interlocking your fingers with Sam.