Supernatural One-Shots [REQUESTS CLOSED]

Chills - Sam x Reader

You plop down into your seat, the cold metal of the chair already seeping into the rest of your body. It's your first day at Stanford. You worked your ass off to get here, but you almost consider simply going back home because of how fucking cold you already are. You shiver, rubbing your arms. You always thought your arms were relatively hairy, not that anyone ever said anything about it, but apparently not hairy enough to keep you warm.

You glance down at your watch. You made it early, but only by a few minutes. Almost no one else is present, except for the teacher at the very, very front of the large room and another student next to you. You try to study him without making it too obvious. He has shaggy brown hair, although you suspect it would be less shaggy if he would have done something to it. He sits tall in his seat, and you can already tell if you two stood side-to-side, he would tower over you. However, this doesn't bother you. You always favored taller guys anyways. You blush at the thought. You weren't even together. And who said he would want to be with you in the first place? Stop it. Too many weird thoughts for the very first day.

You faintly remember seeing him walking around campus, most likely looking for his dorm room. But you never noticed him again until just now. His eyes are... Well, hard to describe. The first time you saw him you could of sworn they were a shade of brown similar to milk chocolate, but now his eyes appear to have some green in them too. You shiver once again as goosebumps appear on your arms.

More students slowly start filing in and the teacher begins droning on about expectations and blah blah blah... You didn't bust your ass just to listen to the teachers talk about the many reasons you were not allowed to mix your coffee with your Red Bull or why you weren't allowed to throw ink pens.

Your eyes drift back to the student next to you. Your eyes flick to look down at a sheet of paper, most likely for the notes he was expecting to be able to take. His name was already in the corner. His handwriting was messy, and sort of cramped together, but in a cute way, and anyways, it was legible and that's all that mattered. Sam Winchester is his name. Cute.

"Excuse me?"

You're startled out of your thoughts when Sam gently touches your arm. If he sees the blush on your face, he doesn't show any sign of it.

"I noticed you keep shivering. Are you cold?"

You take a second to respond, but when you do, you are proud of yourself for putting together a sentence that actually made any sense.

"A little cold. I'm fine, though. Really, I am."

He looks like he doubts this, but goes back to minding his own business anyways.

The next day, it happens again. Not the part about the teacher droning on about rules, but the part about you being cold. How did no one else notice how absolutely frigid it is in here? Sam didn't notice the cold either, but he did notice the way goosebumps covered your arms everywhere, and the way your teeth chattered quietly. He noticed the little tremors as chills went down your spine.
This went on for another week until one day, Sam had enough of it.

You walk into the classroom, and of course, Sam is already there. He's there before you every time, and it always kind of irks you, but at the same time you respect that he makes it to class on time. You sit down next to him and offer a small smile, trying to hide your already chattering teeth.

"Hey, Sammy."

You barely know each other, and already you had a nickname for him. At first the nickname seemed to bring back sad memories of something, family you guessed. You understood. When you were only six months old, your mother had been killed in a fire. However, as he didn't share the details of his past, neither did you. You felt no need to. And besides, you were trying to get away from the hunting life, not get more people involved. Although the name Winchester did sound very familiar.

After a while, he seemed to take a liking to it, or at least he seemed to not mind it as much. He had already deemed you "shorty". As predicted, he was almost a foot taller than you, hence the nickname. Normally, you would've been ready to fight someone had they made a comment about your height, but it was ok when Sam did it.

"Hey, shorty. I actually got something for you today."

He bends down to get into a bag at his feet and pulls out a large, thick blanket.

"I noticed you've been shivering through class ever since day one, so I figured..."

He trails off with a pink blush on his cheeks. He hands you the blanket and you're very careful not to let it touch the floor. The first thing you notice is the warmth it gives off. Second is the smell. It smells like books, old and new. Like the woods.

But there is also another scent, one that isn't recent but will never leave. The smell of other people, or at least what might be other people. It smells as if someone sprayed an entire bottle of cologne on the blanket, and finally it has faded away, but the smell is still there if you pay attention. It smells like leather jackets, like pie, like gun powder, like the cheap laundry detergent from the laundromat, with a hint of vanilla and lilac.

It smells like... Home. It reminds you strongly of your own childhood, actually. It was worn, so you could tell it was pretty old, but still in fair condition. It was... Perfect. The name Winchester nags at the back of your mind, but you push it away, your eyes stinging.

"Thank you, Sam." You wrap it around yourself and let the smells envelope you. "I love it."

"I actually wanted to ask you..."

You look at him expectantly, a smile curling your lips.

"Would you wanna go do something sometime? Just us, I mean."

The smile on your face grows even bigger.

"I was wondering when you were gonna ask."