Drabble request by anon: Could you do a Drabble with the reader and Sam, where the reader is a little curvier and he helps her with her self esteem issues?
Word Count: 929
Warnings: Self esteem issuesÂ
Version en Español: La Mujer Que Va Dentro
It was all wrong. The fabric was too stretchy across your breasts and shoulders and too loose below your hips. Not to mention your legs. You really didn’t want to mention your legs, but they were kind of hard to ignore by the way they seemed to erupt from underneath the bottom of the dress.
“You found anything yet?” Sam asked from the other side of the curtain to the dressing room.
Twisting around, you tried to see how the dress fit on your ass—that was a mistake. Not good.
“Maybe you and Dean should just go tonight. I’ll stay behind in the hotel room and do some more research.” There was no way you would be able to pull off a miracle and find a dress that fit you before the gala tonight.
“You’ve gotta come. All hands-on deck, remember?”
You scoffed. “Please. Like anyone will actually want to talk to me, much less give me any juicy info about whatever it is that we’re hunting.”
Yoga pants and t-shirts. That’s what you belonged in. Definitely not these fancy dresses. Though maybe…
You pulled your hair up, testing to see if an up-do might bippity-boppity-change your appearance to someone worthy of going to a gala on Sam Winchester’s arm. After all, your hair was your best feature.
A glance in the mirror and a grimace later, you dropped your hair back into place. Revealing your neck just accentuated how your wide shoulders were not made to be in dresses.
“What did you just—? Y/N, anyone would be lucky to talk to you for even a minute at the party tonight.”
“Says you,” you mumbled, frowning at your reflection. Black was supposed to be slimming, right? Whoever said that had apparently not met you. “You have to say that because you’re my friend and you already know me. If you didn’t though, I would be the last person you would want to talk to tonight. Especially in this stupid thing.”
“Alright, I’m coming in.”
“Sam, no!”
But it was too late. The curtain moved and he slipped in. You watched in horror as his eyes trailed over your body. And it wasn’t a quick perusal either, because there was a lot of body to look over. “Holy shit.”
“I know, it’s horrible. My arms look like freaking Hulk arms if the Hulk wasn’t green and was fat instead of muscular. And my hips look like someone stuffed a dozen balloons in there. And don’t even get me started on how my boobs are way too big for this stupid dress. You and Dean really should just leave me at the motel tonight. You’ll get more done at the gala if I’m not there scaring everyone away.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/N? That dress is…. Stunning on you.”
“Stunning like a death ray,” you muttered. Sam was just being nice. That’s what he did.
“Death of all common sense, maybe.” He deliberately took step after step until he was behind you, towering over you in the mirror. “Seeing you in that dress… Y/N, let’s just say that I’m not having very friendly thoughts right now.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”Â
Not friendly? The opposite of friend was a foe, but what the hell did that mean? Maybe this dress was the outfit that finally made him realize just how big you were. Maybe he realized that you didn’t belong with him and Dean, the Winchester Greek Gods.
“It means,” he whispered in your ear, warm hands landing on your shoulders and carefully skimming down your arms. “That I’m having a hard time not ripping that dress off of you right here.”
Goosebumps and disbelief followed in the wake of Sam’s touch and words. Jaw hanging open a bit and eyes wide open, you had no idea how to respond. You just watched him in the mirror as he physically steeled himself and took a step back.
“You’re wearing that dress to the gala,” he commanded. “Everyone is going to want to talk to you and when they do, they’ll realize that you’re so much more than a gorgeous woman because you’ve got the brains and determination too. They’ll fall in love with you just like—” He broke off and you were too confused and scared to ask that he finish his sentence. “Trust me on this, Y/N. That dress and your brains? You’ll figure out who and what we’re hunting in the first half hour.”
Well. How the fuck do you respond to that? Sam was just being a friend. He was saying what he thought you needed to hear. That’s it. So you could just calm your heart down, return the dress to the reject rack, and get ready for a comfy night in the motel room with books ready to be researched.
“I think you’re full of shit.”
“I’m full of something, but it ain’t shit.” Sam grabbed your arm and pulled until you turned to face him. “Trust me, Y/N. You’ll be the center of attention tonight at the party and then later—”
He cut off again, but this time you couldn’t help yourself. “Later… what?”
His light chuckle filled the dressing room and he glanced away momentarily, running a hand through is hair. “Later, if you feel like it, I could help you take that dress off. We can just make sure Dean goes home with some chick from the party and I can show you exactly what that dress and the woman inside it does to me.”
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Todo estaba mal. El tejido era demasiado estrecho en la parte del pecho y de tus hombros y demasiado ancho debajo de tus caderas. Por no mencionar tus piernas. Realmente no querĂas mencionar tus piernas, pero eran como difĂciles de ignorar teniendo en cuenta la forma en la que parecĂan emerger desde la parte de debajo de tu vestido.
“¿Has encontrado algo ya?” te preguntó Sam desde el otro lado de la cortina del probador.
Con un vistazo al espejo y una mueca te dejaste caer el pelo hasta que quedó en su sitio. Exponer tu cuello sólo acentuaba lo anchos que eran tus hombros y lo poco que estaban hechos para esos vestidos.
“Significa,” te susurrĂł al oĂdo, cálidas manos descansando sobre tus hombros y lentamente deslizándose por tus brazos. “Que me está costando mucho no arrancarte ese vestido aquĂ mismo.”
Vale. ÂżCĂłmo coño respondĂas a eso? Sam solo estaba siendo tu amigo. Te estaba diciendo lo que pensaba que necesitabas escuchar. Eso era todo. AsĂ que ya podĂas hacer que tu corazĂłn se calmara, devolver el vestido rechazado a la percha, y prepararte para una noche cĂłmoda en la habitaciĂłn del hotel con los libros que necesitabas para buscar informaciĂłn.
Su leve carcajada resonĂł dentro del probador y desviĂł la mirada por un momento, pasándose la mano por el pelo. “Luego, si quieres, podrĂa ayudarte a quitarte ese vestido. Podemos asegurarnos de que Dean se va con alguna chica de la fiesta y asĂ yo puedo enseñarte exactamente lo que ese vestido y la mujer que va dentro me hacen.”
