Maybe It's Not So Bad - Plus Sized Reader

"It really doesn't look that bad."

Sam turned his head towards me, giving me a withered smile as my fingers twirled strands of his shortened hair around them.

With our current dead end we found ourselves temporarily out of ideas and with nothing to do but to twiddle our thumbs, in hopes that something spontaneous would come to us.

Hours later and we were still running on distracted blanks.

In the early evening, Dean had said that he had some calls to make and stepped out, the obvious lie not fooling either of us but was also not something we deemed worth commenting on.

I had reached forty minutes of alone time with Sam, which was spent in fluctuations of brief silences and short conversations which tended to lead nowhere, when I somehow found myself sidled up to him to play with his hair as he read a book of lore about the current town.

"Once you get used to it," I added on.

"You think so?" He said like an uncertain teenager.

"Yes," I laughed.

"But you don't believe the same when I tell you?"

I stopped my twiddling and gave him a hard look.

"Hair and weight are two different things."

Sam rolled his eyes a little but looked at me with a soft smile.

"I know that, but what I'm trying to say is that you look fine, I really think that bit of extra weight suits you, you honestly look great to me."

I pulled away and stared at him, chewing on my lip as I mulled over his words and attempted to not look too deeply into them, even if I really hoped the connotation was there.

Neither brothers were known to hook-up with bigger girls, at least not that I was aware of and that was no foul on them, to each his own and the like.

However, knowing that fact didn't stop the nagging thoughts of his words being nothing but meaningless comfort.

"You're just saying that."

"As you probably are about my hair."

Looking at him, I opened my mouth to respond before letting it close again and letting out a huff through my nose.

"No," was my weak argument.

He shook his head and looked me over, pausing for a moment before pushing himself up further in his seat with his too long legs.

"Here's a bet, if I can lift you onto my lap, you have to stop mentioning your weight."

I regarded him for a second, a little dumbfounded at the rather unconventional idea before licking my bottom lip before slowly nodding.

It was ridiculous but hilarious and there was no way I could refuse and lose a change at bearing witness to Sam testing his manliness, no matter how ludicrous the idea was.

"Okay, but if you fail then you have to let me style that new hair of yours."

He laughed and agreed with a slight shrug, then his hands moved onto my wide hips so he could hoist me onto his lap.

With infuriating ease, it appeared.

As we adjusted to me sitting there, we stared at one another silently, the strange look in his eye making my heart speed up as comfort gradually became awkward the more we lingered.

I had never been good at reading situations, there was no doubt in my mind that I'd missed out on other opportunities over the years.

Was I meant to close the gap between? Or did he want to take the initiative and make the first move?

Was my breath okay after lunch? I don't remember eating anything odorous.

The lingering moment was torturous, I didn't have experience with this kind of thing so I wasn't entirely sure what kind of move to make.

Sure, fantasies of things like this happening had played around and sometimes led much further when I was alone but being in the moment was different.

Feeling his fingers rubbing circles on my hip was completely different to how I imagined it would be and my brain completely faltered.

After a few seconds of prolonged silence that went on for far too long for my impatient brain, I cleared my throat and tore from our staring contest.

"All right," I said, clearing my throat, "you wi-"

Sam's hand moved from my hip to my cheek in such a flash that I could have blinked and missed the movement entirely, he used this moment of surprise to turn my head and lean in to connect our lips in a moment I knew I wouldn't forget.

As if the memory of a giant of a hunter with cursed hair kissing me was something that could just slip away.

Things like this didn't happen to me, even at my slimmest.

I simply had no game.

Never in my life did I ever think that someone like the Sam Winchester would be interested in me, especially not in my current state but here we were and I was dead wrong, not only the kissing with giving that away judging by what I felt against my leg.

Though that could also be my imagination, wishful thinking can lead to wild conclusions.

The kiss broke off as quickly as it had started and before it could get too passionate or intimate then I found myself merely staring at him, wide eyed and bemused.

"So, that happened," I laughed softly, internally wincing at the feebleness.

"Yeah, I guess it did," he nodded, smiling.

Another nervous laugh left me and I started to feel kind of stupid, like a teenager all over again who had no idea how to interact with a crush.

"We should probably continue trying to find that witch," I said feebly, just barely noticing the fall in Sam's expression before I tacked on, "so we can talk about where this can lead later without a case getting in the way."

He looked up meet my eye and smiled again, just a little wider this time.

"Good idea, maybe she's lingering around waiting for us to catch her at some bar."

I snickered and shook my head at his sarcasm, fiddling with my sleeves as I continued to linger on his lap until finally deciding to move my ass so he could get up.

Quickly pecking his cheek, I slid off his lap and stood up to have a large stretch, being sure to purposefully arch my back just enough to subtly push out my butt for him to catch a glance.

"Let me grab you a wig and we can head out."

"Hey," he protested loudly as I turned to him, grinning, "you'll pay for that."

"Which part?"

"I'll leave that up for you to decide."