Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sitting in English 310 on a Friday afternoon, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, Sam Monroe. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, the heels of your hands resting on your laptop. You are supposed to be taking notes on The Canterbury Tales, but thinking about Sam is so… distracting. 

You sigh, completely tuning out whatever it is your professor is saying in her lecture about Chaucer. Sam’s Cheshire cat grin and that cute mole on his chin rush to the forefront of your mind, demanding all your attention.

Smiling to yourself, you recall how he looked at you last night after you performed your “parlor trick” for him— tying a maraschino cherry stem in a knot with your tongue. He stared at your smiling lips in awe for several seconds before bending across the table to kiss you in Dairy Queen. Much to the dismay of several small children and their parents sitting at nearby booths. 

“No wonder you’re such a good kisser, Y/N,” Sam said, his eyes wide with amazement. You snorted with laughter as the little boy picking his nose at the next table groaned with disgust. 

“Come on, Sam. Let’s go. I can tell when we’re not wanted.” You grabbed his hand and stuck your tongue out at the little booger boy when his mother looked away. Sam laughed and called you his partner in crime when he saw what you did. “My rebel girl,” he said, kissing your forehead.

Sam didn’t freak out when you told him you were still a virgin at age 20 and that you didn’t want to rush into having sex. He always followed your lead when it came to intimacy and never pressured you, even after six months together. 

Honestly, he was perfect; so sweet and understanding. So gentle and kind and funny. And cute! Damn, was he cute. And the way he would look at you…

You squirm in your seat. Thinking about Sam made you feel... well, aroused. Shifting your feet, you squeeze your thighs together and bear down on the hard seat beneath you. Suddenly understanding what it must’ve been like for those poor guys who popped a boner during class in middle and high school. 

You are suddenly overcome with a profound sense of certainty. An epiphany, really, just that feeling of knowing you are ready. That is why you decide, on that Friday afternoon, while sitting in English 310, that Sam was going to be the one; your first. 

You were so excited about your decision that you practically run skipping into Head Line Records, the vinyl record store Sam works at part-time when he isn’t attending UCLA.

Pulling open the heavy black door covered with band stickers and punk show flyers, you are greeted by the faint smell of marijuana, patchouli, and the sound of My Chemical Romance’s “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” playing on the store’s surround system. 

“Hey, Rosie,” you greet the shop’s owner, stopping to compliment her pink hair, which she has styled into 1940s Victory Rolls with a matching pink headscarf, “is Sam in the back?” 

Rosie looks up from her worn paperback copy of The Metamorphosis and nods. “Yeah, Y/N, he’s going through a delivery we just got. Go on back, hon.” She gestures with her right hand, pointing towards the stockroom, her sleeve tattoos on both arms visible beneath the black Head Line Records logo t-shirt she is wearing. 

“Sam!” You push the swinging stockroom door into him as he’s about to walk out, carrying a carton of LPs in his arms.

“Oof, Y/N!” Sam teeters backward, pretending he’s about to fall over. You quickly take the box from his hands. 

“I don’t want these to get damaged,” you say, laughing at Sam’s antics. “Rosie is finally starting to like me.” 

“Shut up, she likes you! She just thought it was weird how you work here for free when you visit me. She loves you. Free labor.” Sam grins at you, his labret piercing shifting up slightly under his full lips. 

You put the carton of records down on the floor and wrap your arms around his neck. Looking up into his blue eyes, you tell him, “I wanna do it!”  

Sam blinks, his long eyelashes fluttering against the top of his cheekbones. “Do what? Work here? You already do, you just don’t get—”

You press your lips against his neck, sucking on it gently. Standing on tiptoes, you whisper, “I want you to raw dog me,” then playfully tug on one of his silver hoop earrings with your teeth before biting his earlobe. Sam tenses up; you can tell he’s not entirely sure he heard you correctly. You repeat yourself, slowly:  “I. Want. You. To. Raw. Dog. Me.”

“Whoa! Baby — are you high?!” He pulls back, holding you at arm’s length, and looks into your eyes again, this time with scrutiny. 

“No!” You giggle, sliding your hands down his slim muscular torso, caressing his v-line. You undo his black spiked belt before hooking your thumbs in the waist of his black cargo skate shorts. “I was thinking about you in class today….” Reaching inside his baggy pockets, you begin stroking his upper thighs.

“Y/N, baby— we are not doing it here!” Sam laughs, shaking his head.

“Aw! Why not?” You bring his right hand up to your lips and begin sucking on his index finger, his ring scraping against your teeth. 

“Y/N— uhn, that feels good…” Sam groans, enjoying the feeling of your tongue swirling around his finger. “Okay, stop that!” He pulls his hand away, laughing.

“Aw— hey!” You pout, confident in the knowledge that Sam knows you too well to think you would actually want your first time to be in the dirty stockroom of Head Line Records. 

“What has gotten into you, hmm?” His eyes travel the length of your body as he slowly runs his hands over the swell of your breasts, down your torso, over the curves of your hips, before planting them firmly on your ass, squeezing it. 

Sighing, he hugs you, pulling you in close to him; he buries his face in your hair, his lips tickling your ear, “I want you too.” His words make you shiver as he shifts his hips, pressing his pelvis against you. You can feel him beginning to harden beneath the fabric of his shorts. 

Sam clears his throat as he releases you; taking a step back, he buckles his belt and puts a hand down his crotch to adjust himself.

“But, your first time shouldn’t be here, ” he says, glancing around the dusty stockroom, at the mice traps on the floor, the sticky shelves towering with boxes, and the weird red stain on the brownish (once possibly gray?) carpet. 

“Oh, I’m sure this room has witnessed its fair share of debauchery,” you laugh, nodding towards the authentic Victorian era nudies Rosie tacked on the corkboard next to the OSHA regulations.

“It’s the sexy mood lighting,” Sam glances up at the one flickering fluorescent bulb overhead. “How could you not want to get it on back here?” 

“Exactly! It’s a den of sin,” you agree, looking down at your watch. “Ugh, I have to leave for work. I don’t wanna go!” You wail, being overly dramatic as usual.

“Y/N,” Sam says, “come over tonight. My roommates are going out of town. We can have a sleepover,” he winks. 

You make a lewd gesture with your hands, giggling at yourself. 

Sam snorts and shakes his head, “I better get these LPs out front; Rosie is gonna fire me for spending so much time back here.” He pecks you on the lips before picking the carton of records off the floor. 

You follow him out. 

“Finally!” Rosie calls from behind the register as a line of customers forms. “I thought you both ran out the back door.”

“Bye, Rosie! Bye, Sam!” You hurry to the exit, not wanting to be late for work. 

“Bye, baby!” They call after you in unison. You smile as you walk to your car. 

*********************************

Sam sends you a text while you’re at work: Make sure you drink your pineapple juice 😉

You laugh and begin chugging pineapple juice throughout your shift. Sam drinks it all the time, and his cum actually tastes pretty good. It’s not bitter at all, like the way your friends describe some of the guys they’ve gone down on.

You only recently started giving Sam head— maybe two months ago. You initiated it. He wouldn’t have asked you to do anything you were uncomfortable doing. You quickly realized that you enjoy doing it and even look forward to it. Before Sam, you never would’ve thought that giving oral could give you pleasure. 

A few nights ago, you were lying in Sam’s bed on top of him after you had just finished, your head on his chest. Sam was naked beneath you, his arms wrapped around you. You were in your bra and underwear. 

“I’m a dick sucking virgin,” you laughed to yourself. 

“Hey, don’t say that!” Sam raised his head to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Why not? It’s true,” you shrugged, sitting up to pat the hair on top of your head, making sure it wasn’t sticking up in a million places.

“Baby, it sounds— I don’t know… mean.” Reaching for you, he pulled you towards him, his eyes shining in the low light.  

“Besides,” Sam’s sweet expression changed to his mischievous lopsided grin, the one he makes when he thinks he’s hilarious, “that’s what I call you behind your back. I don’t want you running around stealing it!” He started tickling you.

“Shut up!” You laughed and pulled the pillow from behind his head to hit him with it. 

Sam wants to reciprocate the act to show you his gratitude. He has told you (rather sweetly) several times that he wants to go down on you, but you’ve always been too shy and nervous to let him do it. It isn’t that you don’t want him to; in fact, you really, really want him to. But you were always too embarrassed. However, thanks to the revelation you had earlier today in English class, you’ve decided to just go for it. 

Finally, your shift ends at 10:00 PM. Rushing home to shower and change, you get a brilliant idea in your head: You’re gonna be sexy. 

So, after shaving all the standard parts that a woman usually shaves, you groom your lady bits, shaving in between your legs, leaving only hair on your mons pubis. Then you shave that into a little upside-down triangle. You briefly consider trying to shave the letter S into it for Sam but then decide that’s too much trouble. And you’d probably mess it up anyway. 

You pack an overnight bag but decide to wear only your black trench coat, white thigh-high stockings, and black t-strap mary-jane heels. That’s it, nothing underneath. Sam has a kink for thigh-high stockings and makes a big fuss whenever you wear them with your plaid schoolgirl skirts. You just really hope you don’t get pulled over by a cop on the drive over to his apartment. That would be awkward. 

Chapter Text

Driving on the freeway to Sam’s apartment, your paranoia kicks in — a cop car with siren blaring and lights flashing nearly blinds you in the rearview mirror before speeding past you. Shit! You laugh nervously. Shaking your head, you switch to the furthermost right lane and slow down. 

After having to park a block away, you arrive at Sam’s place at 11:30. Thankfully, the area where he lives is residential and quiet. Otherwise, you would be nervous walking around in only your trench coat and stockings. Sam, you better appreciate my half-naked ass.

Sam lives on the 3rd story of an old Victorian house renovated into apartments in the mid-20th century. You hear indistinct muffled music playing as you climb the carpeted interior stairway. The spare key Sam gave you sticks in the lock, and you have to shove it in hard twice before it turns. The unique aroma created by four 20 something-year-old men cohabitating together — weed, cigarettes, Febreze (and Axe body spray?) — wafts out as you push open the apartment door. 

Sam doesn’t hear you come in. Leathermouth’s XØ album is playing on the living room turntable, the volume set to an acceptable decibel level. The apartment walls are not thick, and Sam is respectful of his neighbors at this hour. 

He’s in the kitchen, rummaging around in the refrigerator, shirtless, barefoot, wearing black pajama bottoms with tiny white skulls and crossbones on them. Sam’s right-side profile is facing towards you, a cigarette dangling from his lips. You take a moment to stare at him, smitten by his beauty. His dyed black hair is still wet from the shower. You notice it has grown out since you first met him; his dark blonde roots now visible. Damp curls adorn his forehead and the nape of his neck; one wraps delicately around his earlobe, curling over his silver hoop earrings. 

You briefly consider taking off your trenchcoat and greeting him in just your white stockings and mary jane heels but chicken out.

Sam gives up his search for leftovers and grabs a bottle of beer, closing the green refrigerator door. He pops the cap off on the kitchen counter and turns to leave, startled to see you standing there. “Oh, hey, I—” his blue-gray eyes widening as he focuses on the tops of your thigh-high stockings, just visible beneath the hem of your coat. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette and exhales quickly before kissing you on the forehead. 

“Sammy!” You press your torso against his bare chest, smiling up at him as you run your fingers through his hair. He smells heavenly— citrusy and minty combined with his own masculine scent. “Your curls are growing out— they’re so cute!” You wrap the one by his right ear around your index finger, tugging on it gently. 

Sam rolls his eyes, pretending he doesn’t like compliments. “You’re the cute one, baby,” he grins as he glances down at your black trenchcoat, “Aw, you gonna flash me?” He winks and takes a swig from the bottle in his hand. “Hey, you want a beer?” Sam hands you the one he’s holding and opens the refrigerator to get another one.

You put your beer down on the counter and undo your coat, dropping it to the floor. The open refrigerator door momentarily blocks you from Sam’s view. You grab your drink and start chugging it for some liquid courage. Sam closes the refrigerator door and gasps; his unopened beer bottle slips from his hand and falls to the yellow linoleum floor, rolling away. 

“Woah!— I didn’t think you’d— holy shit !” Sam eyes you appreciatively, his surprised expression manifesting into a lustful gaze. You reach for the cigarette in his left hand before he drops that too, still downing your beer. 

You finish the last of it and slam the empty bottle on the counter, more forcefully than you intended. After taking a dramatic drag from Sam’s cigarette, you toss it into the sink. 

Sam is leaning back against the refrigerator, his eyebrows raised, a salacious smirk on his face. He is clearly enjoying your naked antics. 

“What?” You laugh nervously, touching your hair, feeling exposed, and unsure of what to do next. You wish you had another beer to chug. 

“C’mere, baby,” Sam pulls you towards him, embracing you in a bear hug, covering your nose, cheeks, and lips with little kisses. “I missed you!” 

“Aw! I missed you too! It’s been a long 7 hours,” you laugh. 

Sam reaches down to grasp one of your legs, pulling it up to his waist. Holding you steady against him, he caresses your thigh, stopping at the band of your stocking. 

Sam inserts his fingers into the lacy hem, squeezing your flesh. “I love when you wear stockings.” Putting his lips to your ear, he whispers, “I jerked off in the shower, thinking about you wearing these.” He gently snaps the band of your thigh-high for emphasis. 

“Oh!— aww! You always say the sweetest things, Sammy!” You giggle, “I wore them for you!”

“I know you did, baby,” Sam releases his grip on your leg and kisses you. His full lips are soft and taste like mint toothpaste and beer. The stud of his labret piercing barely grazes your chin as he presses his lips against yours. He cups your breasts in his large hands, kneading them, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. You moan as warm, tingling sensations race down between your legs, making you wet.

Sam gently bites your lower lip before penetrating your mouth with his tongue. Sucking on his tongue, you stroke his cock through his pajama bottoms. He thrusts his pelvis against your hands, his erection straining against the thin material. You start to pull his pants down, but Sam stops you.

“Wait. Not here,” his voice low and deep with arousal. He takes your hand and quickly pulls you down the hall to his bedroom. 

Sam kisses you again, laying you down on his full-size bed. He pauses, jumping up to switch on his bedside lamp. “Mood lighting,” he smiles as you nod. Sam takes off his spiked leather bracelets; he always does this before laying next to you so he won’t scratch you.

Sam then walks to his desk and opens his laptop, “I made you a playlist! It’s called Songs to fuck Y/N to.” His Cheshire cat grin spreads across his face as “Blue Blood Blues” by The Dead Weather starts playing. 

“Thanks,” you laugh, sitting up to take off your heels. Sam sits next to you, watching you. “I kinda wanted you to leave those on,” he says quietly, touching the t-strap on your left shoe.

“Oh— uh, okay,” you put your mary-jane heels back on. 

“You’re still on the pill, right?” Sam gives you an adorably concerned look, his head titled to one side. 

“Yes, Dad.” You suppress a giggle as he grimaces at the word, shaking his head. 

Sam puts his hand on your thigh, over the hem of your stocking. He kisses you again— slowly, sweetly, savoring the taste of your lips. The tip of his tongue presses gently against yours, making you moan at the sensation. Sam runs his hands down the swell of your breasts. His fingertips tracing over your areolas before caressing your nipples. He moans as your nipples harden beneath his touch.

“Mmmh, I want your titties,” Sam murmurs, moving his head down to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it, circling his tongue. He jiggles your other breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm. You groan, pinching your nipple as both you and Sam rub the erect tip. Sam opens his eyes, still sucking, and stares as you play with your nipple. Switching to your other breast, Sam lifts your hand to your titty now wet with his saliva. He watches you fondle your wet nipple before adding his own fingertips, moaning against your breast in his mouth. 

“Oh my god, you’re hot!” He says, lifting his head to kiss you. His kiss is sloppy now, wanton; he sucks on your tongue, groaning into your mouth. 

“I want to lick you,” Sam licks his lips. His blue eyes, filled with lust, travel down your body, stopping between your legs. His hard cock strains against his pajama bottoms.

“Sammy, just take these off!” He stands up; you pull his pants down, releasing his hard-on from the confines of his pajamas. You reach for him, taking his throbbing cock into your mouth. He moans as you lick the underside of his shaft and gently stroke his balls. Swirling your tongue over the engorged head, you press the tip of your tongue into the small slit, lapping away clear drops of precum. Hollowing out your cheeks, you eagerly suck, moaning, loving the feeling of his hard dick in your mouth. You’re drooling; your saliva drips down his cock, pooling in your hand as you caress his balls. 

“Baby, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” Sam says, thrusting his cock further into your mouth. 

You pull your mouth away, his thick shaft dripping with your saliva. “Do you really want me to stop?” You ask, looking up at him, his dick in your hand. 

“No. Not really,” Sam admits, as you stroke him with your palm. “But yes, because I wanna lick you before I fuck you,” he looks into your eyes. He’s so horny right now. You can see him debating in his head what he wants to do. 

“We can 69?” You suggest, craving his hard dick in your mouth.

“Yes!— wait, no... Tonight is about you, baby. I can wait.” He sighs, a look of determination set on his face that almost makes you laugh.  

“Lay down, baby. I want to play with your pussy.” You lie back, resting your head on one of his pillows. 

Sam walks to the foot of the bed, his hard-on bobbing in front of him. He places his hands between your thighs, spreading them apart. His eyes focus on the small triangular patch of hair on your mons pubis. “This is cute,” he says, caressing your pubic hair with his fingertips, “Is this your Bermuda triangle?” 

He grins, leaning forward, his silver chain dangling from his neck. Sam gently kisses your mound. The feeling of his full lips against your pussy sends a surge of heat through your body, culminating in the nerve endings of your clitoris. 

Stretching, Sam reaches up between your legs for the pillow next to your head; he slides it under your ass, propping up your hips for a better view. He lays flat on his stomach, his face aligned with your glistening lips. The sensation of his hot breath against your exposed pussy makes you tingle; you feel yourself getting wetter. 

“Your pussy is so pretty. Mmm… you’re so wet.” Sam touches the slick dripping out of your wet hole. He gently smears it along the edge of your inner lips, his gaze fixated on his fingertip. He strokes the sensitive skin of your left thigh with his other hand. You moan, squeezing your legs around his head. “Ungf… use your tongue,” you murmur, your hands cupping your breasts.

“You smell so good,” Sam inhales the scent of your arousal, your thighs still wrapped around his head. He chuckles at your frustration, that bastard. You clutch your thighs tighter around his head and start rocking him back and forth between your legs. 

“Okay, baby,” Sam stops laughing once you release your grip, spreading your legs. He starts softly kissing and licking all around your pussy; his lips barely touching you. Sam is a tease, and he knows it. You moan, thrusting your desperate cunt in his face. Reaching between your legs, you spread your pussy lips apart with your fingers, putting your pinkie in Sam’s mouth. He groans and sucks on your fingers before pushing your hand away. 

Looking down, you watch Sam stick out his tongue, pressing it wide and flat against his chin. He has a tremendous tongue (he’s told you he was a mumbler growing up because his tongue was too big for his head). Sam starts licking you, beginning at your perineum and finishing just above your clit. He does this several times, slowly, trailing saliva up and down your pussy. You buck your hips up instinctively, raking your fingers through his hair, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips. 

Sam inserts one finger inside you as he begins sucking on your clit. You reach down, touching his lips, savoring the sensation of his mouth against you. He slides another finger in your wet hole as he licks your fingers, sucking on them. Moaning, you bring your hands up to your breasts, squeezing your nipples, spreading your slick and Sam’s saliva over the tips. 

You’re close to orgasm; your skin tingly and hot. A warm rush floods between your legs, making you quiver. Your walls begin to flutter and contract; Sam moans as he feels your pussy contracting. 

“Sammy!” You call out his name as you rut against his face. Sam keeps his lips pressed against your clitoris, kissing it gently after your climax.

Sighing, you give Sam’s head a playful hug between your thighs. He sits up, his forehead sweaty. His curly hair is sticking up from being squeezed between your legs. A wide grin on his face. “You did drink your pineapple juice,” Sam smirks, his entire face from the nose down shiny with your pussy juices. 

Sam leans over to kiss you. He spreads your legs open again so he can knead the soft flesh of your inner thighs. Your wet pussy leaking onto his sheets. “You look so pretty when you cum…” he touches your mouth, tracing your lips with his index finger, “Your little noises are so sexy… mmmh,” Sam moans as you suck on his finger. 

You reach for his hard-on and begin stroking him, circling your palm over the tip. Sticky warm precum leaks out of the throbbing head. The tip of his cock usually is pinkish, but it has taken on an almost purplish hue; the head is so swollen. Thick veins protrude from his engorged shaft. Your poor Sammy has been rock hard this whole time. He groans, thrusting his cock in your hand.

You sit up, bending forward at the waist, wrapping your lips around his girth. He feels enormous in your mouth. His swollen cock makes your pussy twinge, and you feel yourself getting wet again. You lick and suck him eagerly, starting at the head, closing your eyes and moaning as you feel his dick twitch in your mouth. Sam puts a hand between your legs, fingering your pussy. He groans, feeling how wet you are for him. “Unf— baby, I want to fuck you...” his voice is hoarse and thick.

He caresses your cheek as you pull your lips away from his dick. Sam brings your face up to his. He kisses you, pressing his lips firmly against your mouth, his tongue stroking yours. His kiss is hungry, yearning.

Lying back, you pull him on top of you, spreading your legs for him. His silver chain dangles from his neck as he holds himself above you in a push-up position. You feel his hard cock pressing against your inner thigh.

Sam looks into your eyes, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says gently. 

“I know. I’ll tell you.” You reach up and touch his face, reassuring him. 

“My beautiful girl,” Sam kisses your forehead. Sitting back on his knees, he presses his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs further apart. Reaching between your bodies, he aligns his dick with your slick opening. Sam groans, admiring your glistening lips, “You’re so wet, baby.” 

He moans as his swollen tip enters you. You gasp at how big he feels, and he’s not even fully in yet. Sam slowly thrusts his full length into you, closing his eyes and groaning as your tight wet pussy grips his cock. You feel an intense pressure as he enters you. You inhale sharply as his stiff shaft fills you, your body unused to the straining sensation against your walls. 

Sam pauses, his brow furrowed in concern, “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No. Just go slow,” you whisper, trying to slow your breathing. 

Sam leans forward, shifting his weight to his forearms. He looks down into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nod. 

Sam kisses you, holding his cock perfectly still inside you. “You’re so pretty without clothes.” He leans down to kiss your neck, nibbling a trail up to your jawline, making you sigh. “You should never wear clothes again, Y/N.” He pauses, his face above yours, planting tiny kisses on your cheeks and nose. 

“Let’s become nudists, baby.” Sam raises his eyebrows, his Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face, making you laugh. 

“Okay, Sammy,” you giggle, grabbing his firm ass in both hands. Sam feels you relax, your tightness adjusting to his thickness. Kissing you again, he begins slowly circling his hips, keeping his thrusts shallow. His thick shaft starts feeling good. You savor the way it fills up your pussy and grinds against your walls. Your body begins to respond as he gradually increases the depth and pace of his thrusts. 

Sam leans down to suck on your nipples, moaning as he feels you contracting and pulsating around his shaft. He slides his hand between your entwined bodies to stroke your clit. The simultaneous sensations on your pussy make you cry out Sam’s name. He sits back and pulls your hips up so he can rub your swollen nub and watch his hard dick thrusting into you. 

Seeing you in such a sensual position brings him to the brink of orgasm. Sam moans, closing his eyes. You can feel his cock swelling larger inside you. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass, lifting your hips. He moans your name as he pumps his cum deep in your pussy. Sam shudders, the aftershock of his climax sending tiny shivers through his body. 

Sam flops down on the pillow next to you, pulling you close to him. “I love you, Y/N,” he strokes your hair, kissing your forehead.

“I’m gonna be so sore in the morning, Sammy.” You sigh, a huge grin on your face. 

“Awww, my baby. I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, his lips against your ear. 

You can tell he’ll fall asleep soon by the tone of his voice. Sometimes Sam falls asleep with his dick still in your mouth.

“Did you enjoy your raw dogging, baby?” Sam mumbles, trying to stifle a yawn. 

“That was the best raw dogging ever, Sammy. Ten out of ten. Would bang again.” You laugh quietly, knowing that he has no idea what you just said. Pressing your ear to his chest, you listen as his heartbeat slows down to his sleeping rhythm. 

“That’s nice, Y/N,” Sam murmurs, yawning. 

Thirty seconds later, Sam is snoring.