(Y/N) and Sam had met in college, at Stanford. They were both studying law, so they had most of their classes together. During one class they sat together, introduced themselves, and started talking. It didn’t take long before they were getting together to study for insane exams, and when they started studying together, they started getting to know each other. He had been dating a girl named Jess Moore, but she had died in a tragic apartment fire, where Sam had almost died as well.
(Y/N) didn’t know him that well during that time, but he told her a lot about Jess when she got to know him. It was easy to tell he’d been devoted to her, and her death had shaken him. (Y/N) was surprised he had stuck around college during that; she didn’t think you would have been able to concentrate after something like that. But Sam’s grades had still been good, and he was still as dedicated as ever to becoming a lawyer.
They got to choose who they walked with at graduation. It was pretty much an unspoken agreement that (Y/N) and Sam would walk together. It had been spoken of once, when Sam just confirmed it, and she agreed. That was the happiest day of her life. All of her hard work paid off. She still had to take the BAR exam, but at least she had that diploma.
(Y/N) and Sam got an apartment together after college, both working on studying for their big exam, and trying to find places to work. They both passed the exam and got certified, and soon enough they both were working at the same law firm. Sure, they had entry level positions, but it was a law firm, and they both knew they could work their way up.
One day, (Y/N) was sitting in her cubicle when she heard a familiar voice. “Working hard, or hardly working?” He questioned, and (Y/N) turns around with a smile, seeing Sam’s head peeking over her cubicle. He was so much taller than all of them, when he stood up he could practically see into any person’s cubicle he wanted.
“Working hard.” (Y/N) answers with a groan, placing her head in her hands for a brief moment. “I have to give this presentation to the bosses in a couple of days, and I’m freaking out. I have a bunch of the research done, but this is my shot. What if I somehow screw it up and they keep me stuck in this position forever?”
Sam chuckles, going into her cubicle and leaning against her desk, handing her a donut he had gotten her. “Calm down. You’re going to rock it. Tonight, when we get home you can run it by me a few times, and I can give you some pointers. You’re not going to screw anything up. They’ll see how awesome you are, and you’ll have a promotion before you know it.”
(Y/N) takes the donut from him, a soft, fond smile forming on her face. Sam always knew just what to say to make her relax. “I’m usually not nervous for these things. And I’m really not nervous for the presentation at all, since I’ve done so many presentations before. I’m just not feeling the best, and that’s making me more nervous. I think I’m getting sick.”
Frowning, Sam places the back of his hand on her forehead. “Well, you don’t feel warm, yet. Let’s hope it stays that way for the next couple of days, at least until the presentation is done.” He nods, giving her another smile. “Just relax, everything will work itself out. I have to get back to work. See you tonight?”
(Y/N) nods her head, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, before letting him go. She watches him head back to his cubicle, smiling and feeling much better than she had been before. Glancing at the donut, she bites down on her bottom lip before gently placing it into the trash can in her cubicle. (Y/N) starts working on the presentation again, and soon enough, it was time for them to go home.
The day of the presentation came, and (Y/N) was feeling good about the presentation but feeling bad about everything else. She knew she was getting sick. A stuffy nose, cough, and sore throat had developed seemingly overnight, but it was just a cold. It was nothing she couldn’t handle; after all, she’d been sick plenty of times. (Y/N) just knew she had to make it through the presentation, then she could focus on getting through the sickness. One step at a time.
She stood outside the conference room plenty early before she was supposed to be there. Before anyone else was there. (Y/N) was standing there, going over her notes, when suddenly a wave of heat seemed to rush over her. She clears her throat, taking a deep breath, and going into the conference room. She just needed to sit down for a few minutes.
Sitting down seemed to help immensely, so by the time the meeting was underway, and it was her turn for the presentation, (Y/N) was feeling fine once more. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) starts the presentation. She could see Sam outside the room through the all-glass walls, only spurring her on to do her best when he gave her a thumbs up. (Y/N) finished the presentation, feeling good about herself; however, then it was time for questions.
(Y/N) had done her research thoroughly, so she knew all the answers to the questions they were asking. But about halfway through the questions, she got that hot flash once again. Her face went pale as she started to get dizzy, her stomach churning; she didn’t know if she could finish the questions. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) put a smile on her face and tried to listen to the question she was being asked, but all she could hear was a ringing in her ears.
“I’m so sorry, I have to…” (Y/N) didn’t manage to finish her sentence before she was quickly trying to book it out of the room. She pushes the door open forcefully with one hand, the other hand coming up to cover her mouth as she gagged. (Y/N) normally didn’t puke, so the gagging was forceful and unexpected.
She pushed past Sam, not even hearing his worried tone when he asks her what’s going on. (Y/N) knows all the executives in that office were staring at her, and she’d probably just blown her shot – but right then her main focus was on not passing out in the hallway.
Luckily, the bathroom was close to the conference room they’d been in. (Y/N) once again forcefully pushes the door open, seeing a small trash can near the door. She just barely manages to grab it before she’s falling, finally losing her balance as she empties the contents of her stomach into the plastic-lined bin.
“If there are women in here, a man is coming in. I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency.” (Y/N) faintly hears a loud voice, one she knows to be Sam. He must have seen the entire thing. Her running from the conference room, barely able to hold herself in a standing position; running to the bathroom and falling before holding onto the trashcan like it was her only lifeline.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N/N?)” She can hear Sam calling her, but her mind and body won’t work with each other. It takes her a few seconds more before she can open her eyes again, meeting the worried hazel gaze of her best friend. “Hey…” He says quietly, brushing some hair away from her face. He was obviously glad she was no longer passed out, but worried about what could have caused something like this. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to call for help, okay?”
(Y/N) quickly shakes her head, then wincing. That hadn’t been a smart thing to do since it just made her dizzier. (Y/N) had never liked being the center of attention when something bad happened; she never liked going to hospitals even when she needed to. “No… m’fine, Sam.” She says quietly, not realizing how tightly she was clutching onto the trashcan until Sam gently pries her fingers off it. “Just get me out of here…”
Sam sighs quietly. He didn’t like the idea of not calling an ambulance or taking her to the hospital. Obviously, something was very wrong, because she’d never had a spell like that before. Presentations never freaked her out, so he knew this wasn’t a case of nerves gone wrong. Sam gently tucks her hair behind her ear, watching her reproachfully while he thinks of a response. Maybe it would be okay if he was there to make sure nothing else bad happened… but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to her because of his carelessness. “Fine.” He agrees, sighing.
Sam happens to look down in the trashcan, seeing that when she had vomited so heavily, only bile had come out. She had thrown up forcefully, yet nothing had been dispelled from her stomach. Sam could feel his heart breaking as he started to put two and two together. “Oh, sweetheart… what have you done…? (Y/N), when was the last time you ate?” He asks quietly.
(Y/N)’s breath catches in her throat, her eyes burning with tears. If anyone else had asked her, she would have been able to lie; say that she’d been eating just fine lately. But this was Sam, and she couldn’t lie to him – especially not after he’d just watched her pass out. “Can we talk about this later?” She whispers, knowing there were still people behind him, watching how the whole thing was panning out. This was why she hated being the center of attention.
Eyes softening, Sam nods his head. He wasn’t going to let her get away with this, though. “Come on, lets get you home.” He says softly, using his strength to mostly pick (Y/N) up off the floor. She used what little strength she had left to walk, leaning on Sam heavily so she didn’t fall. She was still dizzy, hoping that would go away soon, but knowing it likely wouldn’t until she ate something substantial.
The ride home was quiet, (Y/N)’s eyes were burning with tears the entire time. She could feel the tension rolling off of Sam in waves, knowing he must hate her now. He must think she’s weak and pathetic. No one would want to be best friends with someone who starved themselves. He probably thought she’d had a legitimate medical emergency, then realized she had brought this upon herself…
(Y/N) could feel more bile rising in her throat. She tried swallowing it down but was unsuccessful. Her hand clasps over her mouth as she gags, Sam quickly stopping the car and pulling over on the side of the road. He unlocks the door so (Y/N) can open it, not even unbuckling her seatbelt before she’s leaning out of the car and puking all over again on the side of the road. (Y/N) didn’t remember the last time she had puked; now she’d done it twice in one day.
Sam quickly gets out of the car, crossing over to the passenger side. He reaches over her to unbuckle her seatbelt, easily catching her when she pitches forward a little bit. “I’ve got you.” Sam says soothingly, his hand rubbing up and down (Y/N)’s back. “You need to get out of your head, sweetheart. You’re freaking yourself out, and it’s just making you sicker.”
Tears are openly flowing now, and Sam has no problem just scooping her out of the car to sit with him on the side of the road. Sure, he’d been hoping to wait until they were home for this, but if she needed the comfort now, she was going to get it. (Y/N) curls up into him, voice breaking with sobs when she finally speaks. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… you must hate me now…”
“Shh…” Sam whispers, his fingers running through her hair. He kisses the top of her head, allowing his lips to linger there, nose nestling in her hair while his eyes close. “I don’t hate you. Not at all, (Y/N/N). You know I could never hate you.”
They’re stuck in a cycle – (Y/N)’s muted apologies and Sam’s hushed reassurances until her tears finally start to slow. She wasn’t done crying about this, not by a long shot, but she was exhausted. Once her tears started to slow, Sam kisses the top of her head again and slowly stands up, pulling (Y/N) with him. “Let’s get you home and get you something to eat.” He whispers, helping her back into the passenger side of the car. Sam even buckles her seatbelt for her, before getting in the driver’s seat and starting back to their apartment again.
When they get home, Sam takes (Y/N) to her room. He goes to her dresser and pulls out a pair of pajama pants, then grabs one of his own shirts, knowing how she liked to wear them when she was upset. “Get changed into these, yeah?” Sam asks, smiling sadly when she nods her head in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. “I’ll be down in the kitchen finding something for you to eat. Meet me down there when you’re ready.”
(Y/N) slowly changes into the clothing Sam had gotten out for her, avoiding her watery gaze in the mirror the entire time. She sits on her bed for a while, contemplating how her life was about to change, before going back downstairs to where Sam was putzing around in the kitchen. He turned when he heard movement, sighing quietly when he sees how small she looks; how she’s trying to curl into herself.
Moving to the living room, Sam goes to grab a large blanket off the couch. He goes back into the kitchen, wrapping it around (Y/N)’s shoulders and getting it snug around her before his arms fall back around her as well. Sam gives her a reassuring squeeze, before going back to the stove. “I figured some eggs and toast would be okay for a meal after not eating much. It’s not too heavy, so it shouldn’t upset your stomach any more than it already is.”
Sitting at the table, (Y/N)’s eyes are cast downward. She listens to what Sam is saying, but she’s not really hearing any of it. She’s mostly hearing her mind telling her how Sam hated her, how she shouldn’t be eating anything, how she was too fat to eat anything, and other vicious things.
The plate is suddenly cast directly into her line of sight, and (Y/N) grimaces, turning her head away and exhaling heavily. Sam sighs, going to sit next to her. He was going to feed it to her if it was necessary.
Since (Y/N) didn’t make any move to eat any of it, Sam grabs the fork and gets a little bit of scrambled egg on it. “Open, please.” He says quietly. Sam’s eyes meet her own, giving her a reassuring smile. Once she does open her mouth, Sam puts the fork in it, immediately praising her. “Good! That was so good. I’m so proud of you.”
(Y/N)’s cheeks flushed a dark red, but she didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. She knew Sam only pitied her – he wasn’t proud of her, because there was nothing to be proud of. He was just saying it to make her feel better. The rest of the meal went the same way. (Y/N) ate most of it because of Sam’s insistence, him praising her every time she took a bite and swallowed.
He decides to leave the dishes for now, instead picking (Y/N) up bridal style, making her squeak in protest and surprise. Sam carries her upstairs to his bedroom, setting her down on the end of his bed. There’s a large mirror across from the bed, that they’re currently looking at. “Tell me why you won’t eat.” Sam says quietly, his nose against the side of her head, lips closer to her ear as a form of encouragement.
It took more persistence, with (Y/N) continually saying she didn’t want to talk about it. Sam mentioned how she didn’t need to talk about it, but they were going to sit there until she did, so she might as well. Finally, tears starting to slowly leak from her eyes again, (Y/N) started to speak; once she did, it was like a dam broke and everything all came flooding out at once.
“I’m ugly, Sam. I’ve always been ugly. I’m not the girl the guys want. Hell, I’m 26 years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend! They always go for the pretty girls, the ones who wear a lot of makeup, the skinny girls…” (Y/N)’s shoulders slump forward, trying to hide in herself, but Sam is keeping her in the same open position, not allowing her to disappear. “And god, I’ve been in love with you for so long, but I’ve seen the pictures of Jess and I’ve seen the girls you look at in the office and at the bars, and they’re all skinny and all pretty, and I’m just me!”
The last part shocked the hell out of Sam. Was he the reason she’d been doing this? Had she really been starving herself to try and gain his affection when she already had all of it? God, Sam felt like an idiot. He should have seen it sooner. He had seen her losing weight, everyone had, but he hadn’t realized it was because of this.
“Sweetheart.” Sam breathes out his disagreement, keeping (Y/N) held even closer to him. “(Y/N), no. You’re not ugly, and you’re not fat. Have you seen how much weight you’ve been losing lately? Honey, you were not fat before you started losing weight, and now you’ve lost so much. You’re getting to be underweight, you know that?” Sam’s nose nudges against (Y/N)’s neck, lips trailing over her neck, breath ghosting over her skin.
He pulls her up from the bed, standing behind her, while they both look in the mirror. Sam’s hands grip at the hem of her (well, his) shirt, silently asking for permission to lift it over her head. “Just trust me.” He whispers, and (Y/N) has no choice. She trusts Sam with everything.
(Y/N) slowly raises her arms over her head, allowing Sam to lift the shirt from her body. She looks down once it’s off, until Sam’s hand comes up and tilts her chin up, so she’s looking back in the mirror. “You are gorgeous.” Sam says quietly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Every part of you that you hate, I love. I know you think I’m saying this to appease you, or because I pity you, but baby girl, it’s all true. I’ve wanted you for so long, but I didn’t think you wanted me… my heart is breaking to know you’ve been starving yourself to get my attention when you’ve always had it. It’s always been you, sweet girl.”
(Y/N) can feel tears starting to fall down her face again. She doesn’t know whether or not to believe Sam. She trusts Sam with everything, trusts that he wouldn’t lie to her… but she was in a supremely vulnerable position, and what if he was just saying it to make her feel better about herself? “Y-you do?” (Y/N)’s voice squeaks out, sounding small even to her own ears.
Sam slowly moves so he’s in front of her instead of behind her, catching her gaze with his again. “Yes, I do. I want you. I think you’re beautiful.” He whispers. Sam gently leans down to capture her lips in a sweet, loving kiss. (Y/N)’s breath catches in her throat again, only this time it’s for a good reason. She kisses Sam tenderly, still gripping onto him for support; still weak from the incident earlier.
He pulls back from the kiss, gently trailing his lips to her jaw. “I know you don’t like this, because you think it looks weird in a mirror. Whenever you’re concentrating hard on your work you clench your jaw, and I think it’s one of the sexiest things in the world.” He moves to her neck, down to her collarbones. “I know it was one of your goals to see these… but gorgeous, you don’t need to see your collarbones to see how beautiful you are. You’re gorgeous, whether or not they’re prominent.”
(Y/N)’s crying more openly now that she realizes what Sam is doing. “Sam…” She wants to protest. She wants to tell Sam he doesn’t need to do this, that she doesn’t deserve it. But she doesn’t want to protest. She wants him to just keep going… and he does.
“Shh.” Sam says quietly. He presses his lips over to her arms. “I know you hate these, because you don’t like how they look in sleeves… especially if it’s a dress. But I love it. I love how you look in anything you wear.” Trailing down to the middle of her cleavage, where she’s still wearing a bra; making her gasp. “I know you’ve never been confident about these. Even in all these years of being friends, I haven’t seen them, even accidentally, because you were so keen to hide them. But I don’t have to look at them to know they’re beautiful, just like the rest of you.”
Sam then kneels, reminding her to keep looking in the mirror. Looking at how Sam is lavishing the attention on her, how he’s making her feel every good feeling she’s been craving for so long. His lips press to her belly. “I know this was the source of all your worries. You were afraid it was too big. But it never has been. You’re soft, and comfortable, and you’re absolutely perfect.”
Even though she’s still wearing the pajama pants, Sam doesn’t let those get in the way. He continues to lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to each of her inner thighs, through the material of the pants. “I know you were worried because you didn’t have a thigh gap. But sweetheart, only a very specific type of body can have a thigh gap. Who cares if you’re not a specific type of body? You are totally you, and that’s all you need to be. That’s all you need to be for anyone who deserves you… and all you ever need to be for me.”
(Y/N) reaches down, placing her hands on either side of his face. She’s sobbing when Sam finally lifts himself back up to a standing position, resting his forehead against hers. “I know you can’t just automatically stop starving yourself. I know these things take time. But I’m going to be right here to make sure you’re eating. We’re going to get you back to a healthy weight, we’re going to get you help, and we’re going to be just fine. I love you, (Y/N). I love you so much.”
“Kiss me, Sam Winchester.” (Y/N) whispers, knowing he might reject because of how hard she’s crying (and ew), but he doesn’t. Instead, Sam leans down and presses his lips against hers again, his arms wrapping around her waist tightly. She doesn’t bother pulling back from the kiss before she mumbles, “I love you, too.”
Sam finally breaks the kiss, chuckling quietly when she whines and tries to follow his lips. He pecks her lips a couple of times, then kisses her nose. “C’mon. I want you to stay with me tonight. We can have a movie night and just cuddle if you want. You want my shirt back?” He questions, holding it up to her.
(Y/N) pauses when he asks if she wants the shirt back. She’s wanting to say something, but the words die on the tip of her tongue. But Sam, having known her for this long, already knows just what to say. “I’ll remind you every few minutes how much I love your tummy.” He promises, giving her a smile.
She hesitates a second longer, before shaking her head. “No, I don’t need the shirt.” (Y/N) whispers, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks; however, she’s beat by Sam’s thumbs that do it for her, much gentler than she would have done it.
Sam pulls her to his bed, pulling back the covers and getting in. He then opens his arm for her, allowing her to snuggle in however she would like. They end up spooning, her back pressed against his chest, Sam’s hand splayed out on her tummy while they watch some corny romantic comedy on Netflix. She shivers as his fingertips trail over the expanse of her belly, giving a quiet whine as she looks up at him.
“I told you I’d keep reminding you how much I love it.” Sam says softly, grinning at (Y/N). “In fact…” She doesn’t even have time to squeak before he’s flipping her onto her back, leaning down and blowing a raspberry onto her tummy.
(Y/N) squeals, laughing and throwing her head back. He kisses along her belly, using his teeth to scrape against her sides, causing her to shiver and giggles to pour out of her mouth. “Saaaam…” She whines, laughing again when his fingers start to trail along her sides gently. “Get up here and cuddle me.”
Sam presses one more kisses to her tummy before helping to move her back to their spooning position, a grin on his face while he kisses her shoulder from behind. “As you wish.”