Winter Star Winchester

Who runs this blog?

That'd be me, Izak, better known as @lightningzombie! I run this blog alone for now. And yes, I did put my own fics into the spreadsheet. I put it up to a vote and people said I could!

Why did you decide to do this?

Frustration with the lack of comments on my fics and the death of comment culture in general. Bewilderment when I saw a fic that had 1200 kudos and no comments. The joy that leaving 100 comments and receiving 20+ during the Febuwhump commentfest brought me. Boredom. Many reasons!

Is there a prize/competition?

Nope! No incentives whatsoever. Just the joy of fan fiction, of commenting, and community spirit.

Will you do events?

Yes, I plan to! I'm not sure what yet, though.

"I don't know how to comment!"

Yes, you do. "I like this" is a comment. "How dare you do that to [insert blorbo here]" is a comment. "<3" is a comment. "KAJSDAKSDHJ WHYYYYY????" is a comment. "I am rapidly approaching your location" is a comment. Just be kind!

How long will it take me to get a comment?

Dunno. Some people get them within minutes, some hours, some days. Depends on many things. Be patient!

I submitted something but it hasn't been added or removed

I run this blog and the spreadsheet completely alone and manually. Any submissions will be handled as and when i have time. Be patient with me, I'll get to it!

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You look up from your phone and your breath catches in your throat. The guy looking down at you with a shy smile is so gorgeous it makes your chest ache.

You’d spotted him across the bar as soon as you’d entered, playing pool in the corner with his friend. Of course you’d known you never stood a chance with him, but he was so nice to look at you’d been chancing glances over at the pool table all night from the little booth you and Angie had occupied. A fact that Angie had not failed to notice and tease you for.

“Let’s go over and introduce ourselves,” she’d said following your eyeline. “They’re cute!”

When you’d shaken your head, horror struck at the suggestion she’d just chuckled and rolled her eyes before heading to the bar for another round. Of course in her head such things were simple. She was tall and slim and beautiful and everyone fell in love with her the instant they met her. She’d never know how it felt to be you. Nothing special. Plain and fat. Most of the time it felt like people would look right through you. You could only imagine the mocking look you’d get if you went over there. No one would ever choose you when you stood next to Angie. No one ever had. And those who you had ended up with had always ended up making it known that you were the consolation prize.

And yet here he was here smiling at you as your brain scrambled to figure out what was happening. He was still looking at you expectantly and you belatedly remembered he’d asked you a question.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you. Just a beer,” you managed to respond, brandishing your almost empty bottle at him.

His smile got even wider and you wanted to melt under his gaze. “Sure thing, be back in a mo,” he told you before turning towards the bar completely clueless of the internal spiral he’s sent you into with one simple question.

You try to stifle the smile that wants to break out over your face. The warmth that is spreading outwards from your chest.

Your joy is short lived however as you scan the bar and spot Angie over by the pool table with your mystery man’s friend.

A heavy weight sinks into your stomach. Of course. He’s not interested in you. He’s just being a wingman. Keeping the chubby friend occupied so his buddy can shoot his shot with Angie.

You battle against your disappointment as you see him heading back towards you, beer in hand. At least he’s being polite about it. Sometimes the guys that get sent over to distract you can barely hide their contempt. Wanting to make it overtly clear to you that they’d rather be anywhere else. So it could be worse. And Angie has always been so good to you. You want her to find a nice guy and be happy.

You put a polite smile on your face as he sits down opposite you.

“I’m Frankie,” he tells you, passing you your drink.

You give him your name and drink in the smile he’s giving you. He really is so handsome. The little dimple on his cheek as he beams at you makes you weak at the knees.

You try to reign yourself in. Remind yourself that he’s not interested. But he seems interested. Asks you about yourself, where you’re from, what you do, about your family and offers the same information up to you eagerly when you ask.

When you learn that he’s a helicopter pilot you nearly swoon.

“Was in the forces for a good long while but got out a few months back. Got a job flying the air ambulance.“

“Frankie that’s amazing,” you tell him breathily, trying your best to force your mind away from Frankie in a flight suit. But good Lord, the fleeting picture in your mind is enough to dampen your panties.

He gives you a wry smile, “yeah, after I got my discharge I wanted to do something good you know? Give back a little.”

He’s perfect. So sweet and charming and you find yourself wishing you were better. Worthy of him. But the sound of Angie laughing at his friend, who you now know is called Benny, is enough to bring reality crashing back in. But maybe if Angie and Benny hit it off, you can at least get to spend some more time with Frankie. And maybe if you could get your shit together and lose some weight, maybe one day he’d see you differently. You push the thought down before you can drown in the want.

Conversation flows so easily between you that you completely forget about your nerves, about how self-conscious you are. You forget where you are. You forget how this started. You forget about Angie and Benny. Until Frankie drops a bomb.

It's when you ask if he has any vacations planned, he tells you about a trip up to some cabin with the boys from his unit.

"We go every year, all of us, partners too and we just spend the week, hiking and out on the lake. It's awesome. So beautiful. Benny's actually planning on proposing to his girlfriend while we're up there."

You feel as though you've been doused in icy water. You don't hear anything he says after that. Your brain has done a full detour. Benny has a girlfriend and is still out here hitting on Angie. And Frankie. The guy you had thought was so perfect was just totally fine with that. You want to be sick.

Flustered you just cut him off mid sentence, "need to use the bathroom."

You bolt out of the booth and beeline over to the pool table. You catch Angie's eye, "going to the ladies, you coming?"

Angie's eyes light up, no doubt excited to tell you about the man she's spent the last hour or so with. She smiles at Benny, "back in a sec," and hands him her cue.

She slips her arm through yours and you all but drag her to the bathrooms.

"Hey what's the rush?" she asks as you pull her into the ladies. "How's it going with Frankie? He's cute! Seems like you've been getting on very well." She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you can't even answer her, you just have to get it out.

"Benny has a girlfriend!"

She chuckles, "I know, he's going to propose, showed me a picture of the ring, it's beautiful."

You feel like you're in the twilight zone. Of all the reactions you had anticipated, that had actually been nowhere on the list. Your brain stutters like it's malfunctioning, trying to work out the appropriate response.

"What?! And you're ok with that?"

"Um, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She looks at you like you have two heads. You're not entirely sure that you're not looking at her the same way.

"Uh because he sent his friend over to wingman me so he could hit on you?"

"Wingman you?" She bursts out laughing and you start to get annoyed.

She manages to get a hold of herself but just barely, little peels of laughter still breaking through. She grabs you by the shoulders and makes you look at her. The annoyed look on your face almost breaks her resolve.

"Hey, what's so funny? I can't believe you're ok with a guy hitting on you when he's about to propose to someone else."

"You're so clueless, it's adorable. Frankie wasn't wingmanning you." You open your mouth to protest and she shushes you sternly but softens when she sees how confused you are.

"Frankie wasn't wingmanning you, Benny was wingmanning me."

You open your mouth and close it again. You don't know what to say. She's wrong clearly. You start to shake your head as if the action alone is enough to prove her wrong.

She catches your chin in her hand, making your head still and making you look at her.

"When I came out of the bathroom Benny intercepted me, told me that his friend was crushing on you bad and asked if I'd play a game of pool with him to give Frankie a chance to go over and talk to you. And then it looked like you two were getting on so well, we just left you to it."

It doesn't feel real. But Angie wouldn't lie to you. She's far too sweet to play such a cruel prank.

You feel all at once overjoyed and terrified. How can you face him again now? Your time with Frankie has been so enjoyable, but now that you know he's interested in you, you're right back to feeling awkward and worthless. ‘He can do better’ is the only thought in your head. You have the batshit idea of climbing out of the bathroom window to avoid seeing him. So that you never have to watch that realisation dawning behind his eyes.

Angie shakes you gently by the chin.

"Hey, look at me." She waits until you do. "What's going on?"

You feel tears welling in your eyes and feel even more stupid. You're such an idiot.

"Why the hell would he be interested in me?"

Angie face looks pained as she pulls you into a hug.

"Because, you idiot, you're a beautiful, interesting, kind, caring woman."

"Angie!" you whine, wanting to argue with her assessment.

"Nope, you're going to be quiet and listen for a minute." She pushes you out so she can look you in the eye.

"I need you to hear me ok? I know you've been treated like shit in the past. But those losers didn't deserve you. Frankie saw you across the bar and thought you were so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off you. And he's been sat listening to every word out of your mouth for over an hour and giving you heart eyes the entire time."

She smiles when you take a deep breath and bite your lip. Was that true?

"Just give him a chance ok? He seems like a good guy. And he seems to really like all these curves if the way he was watching you walk away is any indication." She slaps your ass for emphasis and the pair of you burst into giggles.

"Ok?" she asks.

You nod. "Ok." She dries your tears and helps you fix your make up before you head out.

It's only when you see a concerned looking Frankie leaning on the pool table, nervously nibbling on his thumb that you realise just how long you've been in the bathroom.

The second he sees you he pushes off the table and comes straight to you. You see his hand twitch at his side, almost like he wanted to reach out to you. Angie walks back over to Benny, leaving you to it.

"Hey, are you ok? I'm sorry if I said something to upset you."

You smile at him. He's so sweet. You feel bad for making him worry.

"Can we go outside for a minute, I could do with some fresh air."

He nods and follows you out. Its quiet outside thankfully, the standing tables all empty. You make your way to one over to the side, tucked away next the wall. Frankie follows, staying close but not pressuring, not being pushy.

He looks at you with the saddest puppy dog eyes, "I really am sorry if I -"

"Frankie," you interrupt him. You know it's rude but you also know you need to say what you need to say now or you might lose your nerve. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me, I think I got the wrong idea when you came over."

You see the confusion on his face but you keep going. "I thought you came over to give Benny the chance to hit on Angie, I thought you were only trying to distract me to help him out and then you said he has a girlfriend and I freaked out."

You see some of the tension ease from his shoulders as you explain your weird behaviour. "No, it wasn't - it was, it was the other way around," he tells you with a shy smile, reaching out and taking your hand. The touch of his skin against yours sends a shock through you like a live wire and you have to fight to keep from throwing yourself at him.

"Angie told me. I'm sorry if I freaked you out. Just… I'm not really used to guys showing interest."

"I find that very hard to believe," he tells you softly, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. It's not said to flatter. The sincerity in his voice puts a lump in your throat that has you cursing yourself even as your lips twitch upwards.

"There's that pretty smile," he whispers, stepping closer. You can feel the heat of his body now and you want to just slump into his chest and let him hold you and tell you everything will be alright. But you somehow manage to restrain yourself.

"I had a great time talking to you tonight, I'd really like to get to know you better, if you'd be up for that?" he asks, gentle and hopeful.

You feel your face heat and you can’t look him in the eye. “I-I’d really like that Frankie,” and you almost can’t bear the huge smile that breaks across his face, you need to make sure he knows what he’s getting into. “But look, I wasn’t kidding before. A-about men not being interested. I-I haven’t had the best experiences and I’m kind of a mess and-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts you now, stepping even closer and wrapping his free hand around you to land on your back and pull you closer.

You squeak in surprise and he chuckles, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you scramble to get your train of thought back on track even as your free hand comes up to clutch at his shirt, wanting to pull him even closer.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he tells you with a grin.

“Frankie,” you whine, “I’m being serious!”

“So am I,” he teases, bumping your nose with his, holding you so close but so gently. “I like you, I want to get to know you better, ok?”

“Ok,” you agree after a moments hesitation, waiting to see if he changes his mind. “I’ll try and reign in the crazy.”

“No!” he tells you sternly, his commanding tone making you clench your thighs together. “I don’t want that,” he’s softer now, hand coming up to cup your face, “if you’re upset, or scared or worried, I want to know. Even if you think it’s stupid. Especially then. Please don’t hide from me.”

“Frankie,” you sigh, as his forehead falls forward to rest against yours.

And it’s so nice. You feel so safe and warm. It’s hard to believe you’ve only known him for a short time. You want to believe him so badly. Want to be wanted by him.

“Been dreaming of having you in my arms like this since you walked in the door,” his breath is warm as it fans across your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You’re not used to this at all. The gentleness with which he handles you. The way he gives you so much grace. You nod against him.

“Need words honey, tell me it’s ok.”

“Please Frankie, kiss me.” Your voice sounds desperate and pleading but you’re far too happy to care as he calls you a “good girl,” and leans in.

His lips are warm and soft and plush as they press gently against yours. He doesn’t rush, just lets them linger against you for a moment. It’s heaven. And then he pulls away slightly and takes in your blissed out face before leaning back in and this time he sucks your bottom lip between his. And when you gasp he slowly reaches out his tongue and gently swipes just inside your bottom lip.

Your breath hitches and he feels you tugging him closer by the death grip you have on his shirt. It’s all the encouragement he needs to dip his tongue in further, still gentle and controlled, rubbing against yours as you melt into his embrace.

You don’t know how long you kiss for. What you do know is that at some point your back has ended up pushed against the wall, that his body is in full contact with yours and that kissing him is the best thing you’ve ever done. He tastes so good, and he smells even better and everywhere his hands touch - your arms, your back, your hips, your cheek, it leaves a trail of tingles that have you about to lose your mind. When he pulls back you chase him a little and a little whine escapes from your throat.

“Shhh baby, it’s ok,” he peppers quick pecks against yours pouting lips, “if I don’t stop now I’m not ever going to and unfortunately I have to work tomorrow.”

You chuckle and bury your head in the crook of his neck and he pulls you in close, placing a few soft kisses on the side of your head.

“It’s a 12 hour shift tomorrow so I won’t be able to see you but how about the day after?”

“That’s Valentine’s Day!” you blurt out, not sure if you have a point to make or if your brain is so mushified from the best make out session of your life that your mouth is just firing things out with no filter.

He looks down at you, a teasing grin on his face, “I guess it is, what do ya say then honey? Want to be my valentine?”

You lay your head back on his chest and listen to the rapid thud of his heartbeat. It makes you smile to know that even he is a little on edge.

“Yes Frankie, I’d love to be your valentine.”

///

My taglist is currently under construction, see this post, so for now, some npt:

         Chuckling softly, secretly wanting to stay in the small town a little longer. You stay quiet a moment, “Sam’s right it’s not that bad and maybe for once we can have a normal Christmas.”

         “You know us right what’s even normal for us?” Dean counters stepping back inside to drop his duffle bag. “I’m gonna go extend our stay till the foreseeable future and find the nearest laundromat to wash some clothes,” grabbing his coat and handing out the door this time.

          “Dean have a problem with Christmas?” Rummaging through your bag to find a couple of rolls of quarters.

Having known the Winchester brothers for a little over five years, but never around the holidays and hadn’t planned to this year. However, a stroke of luck and a phone call for help with a family of ghoul. Now stuck in the same town thanks to a perfectly timed snowstorm a day before Christmas. You think over the situation you find yourself in when a large hand waves in front of your face. Blinking a couple of times before looking up at Sam.

“Did I lose you there for a moment?” Smiling and taking a seat next to you. “I can imagine this isn’t exactly the place you’d want to get stuck right before Christmas.”

Shrugging you give up the search for those elusive quarters, “Just thinking.” A soft smile sliding over your lips as you glance Sam’s way. “I’ve been in worse places with not so friendly people plus I’ve no real plans.”

“Well, we’re all set you two wanna go grab some grub?” Snow blowing behind him Dean comes through the door shaking off the excess.

“It looks bad out there,” peeking out the door before he closes it. Moving to sit back on the cot beside your bag tummy rumbling at the thought of food. “We could go to the diner it services that pie you like.”

“To be fair it’s the only restaurant in town,” smiling Sam grabs up his coat before patting your shoulder. “Come on it can’t be that bad. I’ll protect you from any massive snow drift,” chuckling when you roll your eyes before dodging the hand you try to pop him with.

Standing slipping your own jacket on as Dean holds the door open for the two of you. Keeping Sam back a moment, “I know it’s not the most festive, but what about trying to National Lampooning it? Make it a little merrier for her?”

Giving his brother a skeptical look, brow raised, “Has the Christmas fairy smacked you upside the head?”

“No,” grumpily speaking as the two of them head out following you along the sidewalk or trying anyway with the snow falling hard around them. “But the look on her face when we found out were stuck in this one-horse town.”

Nodding in agreement, “How exactly can we pull this off without her noticing?”

“After lunch we split up one of us keep her close so she doesn’t know while the other goes to buy the supplies. I’ll get the tree since your not driving Baby, you suck even on good weather days,” grinning playfully Dean picks up his pace before Sam can smack him.

Looking back you see the guys are far enough away that they wouldn’t notice you stop and gather a few imperfectly formed snowballs, throwing them to hit their targets in the chest. Stopping in their tracks Sam and Dean look at you matching grins slipping over handsome faces. Twenty minutes snowball fight the three of you wet, tired and breathing heavy from laughter. Leaning on each other while entering the small-town diner all eyes land on the three of you some with smiles others with looks of indifference or just disapproval. Ignoring them to find what became the favorite booth by the window with a wall behind you. Dean excusing himself a moment to go to the bathroom.

Reaching over now that he’s seated and you can reach to brush some snow from his hair, “Haven’t done that in ages.”

“Thank you I haven’t seen Dean laugh that much in a long time to,” giving you a smile before picking the menu up.

Shrugging, “No biggie just thought the two of you needed a little fun after all the shit y’all’ve been through in your lives. Which can I ask a question?”

“Course what’s on your mind?” Setting the thin laminated menu aside to study you.

Glancing to see of Dean is coming back yet before speaking, “Well on the walk here in between trying not to slip and dodging snowballs,” grinning, “I was thinking…”

“Never a good thing but go on,” snarking playfully as you roll your eyes at Sam.

“Haha, serious for a moment please Samuel,” when he nods you continue, “How about we try to make out time stuck here a little more festive. Nothing crazy but if the snow lets up there’s the festival in town…”

“In fact, across the street in the town square have it every year best part of living in a small town,” Jamie the waitress states as she comes around to take the order neither of you are ready to give. “I can come back if y’all aren’t ready.”

“Yes, please and you were saying about the festival?” Interest flowing through your tone with a small amount of happiness.

A soft smile creasing her young face as she tells the two of you all about the festivities. With its eggnog drinking, present wrapping, and pie eating contests, all the booths with mostly handmade items. But the best part - in her opinion - all the food vendors that come out, supplying visitors with mouthwatering deliciousness.  

“You’d need a bigger pants size before it's all said and done oh and a food coma afterwards,” she gushes having sat down beside you to explain.

Dean returning halfway through her explanation to take his seat next to Sam. Puzzled by the fact that their waitress joined them not that he minded in the least of course. “Something you’ve forgotten to tell me Sammy?” wiggling his brow at his brother.

Frowning Sam shakes his head, “Jamie explained about the town festival that’s going on today. Something right up your ally.”

“How so?” confused even more as he looks between the both of us then at Jamie.

Together with grins on their lips, “Pie eating contest.”

“You’re shitting me?” whiskey flecked green eyes dilating with a grin spreading across his lips. Shaking our heads, Dean’s up and halfway to the door before either of us can say or do anything. “Don’t just sit there get your asses it’s pie eating time.”

Shaking our heads but following, you and Sam drop a tip down for the drinks before catching up. Once hard to travel through now, just a light dusting of snow falling around the three of you. As people pass us carrying multicolored bags and bundled up tightly against the cold. Finding the town square with no trouble, all decked out with an array of adornments. Towering cedar trees flank the wrought iron entrance, dressed to the nines with lights, handmade decorations, Christmas wishes printed on the back. Tents of all colors line the downtown square on both sides selling just as Jamie said everything you could imagine. Snow flurrying down making a magical snow globe scene right out of a classic holiday movie.

Making a bee line right for the biggest tent at the end of the block, people crowded around paper plates in hand with pies atop, heavenly scents of apple, peach, pecan, cherry, plus every cream pie you could imagine.

“I think Dean’s found his heaven,” giggling softly you and Sam trail behind him watching as he picks up a few different plates piling them into an open cardboard box to carry.

 Turning a glaring eye, “Hush I don’t make fun when Sammy’s nose is buried in books or yours in those videos you watch.”

Scoffing, “When haven’t you?”

“He’s got a point,” picking up a cherry pie to nibble on since lunch got canceled in favor of sweets.

“Whatever,” trying to keep from grinning, “Why don’t you two take off I'm perfectly fine right here.”

“And miss you getting bested by the twelve-year-old not a chance Deano,” taunting smile on his adorable face, Sam takes your hand to lead you towards a row of chairs in the front to watch the action.

Groaning but for once in his life having fun that didn’t turn into someone getting gutted by a thing that goes bump in the night. With those thoughts in mind, Dean heads to the sign-up table. Getting showed to a seat and looking out into the crowd where you and Sam sit, the former cellphone in hand ready to record. Shaking his brown head, the smile on his slightly chapped lips speaks of a different story. Pointing at the announcer, so Dean pays attention to the directions, the pie eating contest starts. Less than a minute later, face covered in cream with bits of pie shell Dean grins having won by just seconds behind that twelve-year-old.

Joining you and Sam, wiping the remains of pie from his face a voucher to – of course the diner who sponsored the contest – in hand, “And you thought I'd lose.”

“Have it on video for Cas to see when he meets up with us later that’s if he can make it through the storm,” worry tinging the cadence of your voice with the mention of Castiel. Who none of you have heard from in the last couple of days.

Patting your shoulder that he wraps an arm around, “Don’t worry about Cas, he’ll turn up, but you won’t show him that video,” giving you a meaningful look that's tinged with playfulness.

“Can’t promise anything,” grinning you take off to look around, not wanting them to see what presents you pick up as memories from a different time and a much different life filter through your mind. Time before you became a hunter when family - though few in number – surrounded you like a warm blanket of love. Now gone in diverse ways and times, a few to those invisible beings that go bump in the night the means of their passing. Pausing at a tent selling teacup sets one catches your eye. Knowing how much your mom would’ve loved, the little blue and purple cup with delicate flowers surround the outside, a pearlized white inside, and thin black rim. Delicate as a newborn, you don’t dare pick it up nor see that Sam stood a few feet behind you watching as you look at the teacups but move on to another booth down the block.

“Have an idea on what to get her for Christmas?” Coming up beside Sam munching on some candy popcorn offering some up. “This time of year, doesn’t come with much cheer but maybe this one time we can actually have a good Christmas.”

Snagging a few kernels of popcorn Sam watch’s you a moment longer knowing exactly what Dean refers to even for them. Holidays weren’t something a Winchester gets to enjoy without something going wrong. “I have my ideas but for now lets just enjoy this relaxing time. Before hell comes calling.”

Nodding in agreement, “No cheapo gifts this year something expensive I take hundreds,” grinning playfully Dean spots the tree lot not far off. “You keep looking while I grab us something to put it under and this time, we won’t need the branches to kill a couple of Pagen Gods.”

“You gotta remind me of that?” Rolling those warm hazel eyes in remembrance of what felt like a millennium ago. Glancing back to see Dean already gone, Sam starts to look for decorations and lights enough for what he hopes is a small tree.

Meanwhile, you’re loaded down with bags mostly snacks for tonight wanting to do a Christmas marathon of some of the best movies. Along with gifts for both guys hoping they like what you’ve picked out. A little unsure as your gift giving muscles are a little rusty but having known the Winchester’s for over ten years thinking you’ve got a good read on both boys. Those thoughts in mind you wander the festival a little while longer. Trying different foods, you never would’ve thought to try. Before long a few hours have passed the snow started falling a little harder, the cold penetrating your thick layers. Hands both a little cold as you start the walk back to the motel room. Wanting for some hot chocolate with little marshmallows that makes your stomach growl with hunger from the missed lunch.

Checking your pocket for the room key when the worn door opens, warmth spilling out along with multicolored lights and music. Confusion written on your face that looks up into Sam’s seeing the smile as he starts to take bags from you and Dean pulling you into the warmth.

“Took you long enough sweetheart thought we’d have to send out a search party for you,” grinning Dean puts a hot mug of cider in your hands to warm them. “No, it’s not spiked this time.”

“That was one time Dean I’m not going to live that down am I?” Rolling his eyes before taking a drink of his own cider. “We ordered figured you’d be hungry after all the walking around we all did.”

Not answering just looking around the shared motel room, taking in the decorations, four-foot tree with colored lights siting on the dresser. Barely an ornament hanging from thin branches but tinsel and garland cover ever inch with a small star atop the tree.

“We know it’s not exactly what you’re use to…” Dean beings studying your face unsure of what you're thinking.

 “But wanted to do something since your stuck with us for Christmas,” Sam finishes with a sheepish grin on his lips.

Without saying a word, you set the cider down and pull both brothers into a three-way hug, tears pooling to slide down cold cheeks your press into both of their’s. “It’s perfect my little found family we might not be perfect but your mine,” words whispered heart felt and very much meant. You take that moment to press kisses to both their cheeks and pull back. “Thank you both for doing this and for today.”

“That’s what families are for right doesn’t matter if its by blood,” smiling and wrapping you up in his own hug. “Besides we’re stuck together so might as well enjoy it right?” Chuckling as you playfully smack Sam’s chest then pulling out of the hug to give Dean one as well.

- - -

Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" blares throughout your small bedroom, rousing you from sleep. Your head feels fuzzy, pounding softly from the overplayed, grating tune.

You sit up, blanket thrown to the side, and your legs dangling from the side, as you give a whack! to your alarm clock. The small hunk of metal stops, providing you with momentary relief.

07:30 am blinks back at you. Rather early to be waking up on a Saturday, but you have plans: grocery shopping, clothes shopping (mostly involving you watching your friends play dress-up, you sitting to the side), baking, and the party.

Your housemate had been organising it for the past month and a half, inviting half of Stanford University over to celebrate – not literally, but a LOT of people were coming, at least a lot in your opinion – around 15, give or take. You may or may not be hoping for a particular someone to show up, a particular someone who definitely didn't go by the name Sam, definitely wasn't 6'4" with brown hair looking so soft you just wanted to run your fingers through it all day. Nope, definitely wasn't him. But you would never say that aloud for the sake of avoiding being teased by your roommate.

And speak of the devil, you could already hear her rummaging around her room through unfortunately thin walls. Always the early bird catching the worm, she is.

Taking the ruck-ass as your cue, you stand up to go about doing your morning routine.

The kitchen's dark, light trying to creep out from beneath the blinds. The tiles are cool against the soles of your feet, waking you up bits at a time as you make your way. You and your roommate, Emma, always kept the heater off throughout the night to save on money, instead choosing to keep warm with mountains of blankets.

Christmas was the time of year she would always look forward to, more times than most, dragging you along to join her festivities. Tinsel adorns the tops of the cupboards, which are littered with stickers of cookies, Santa, reindeer, snowmen and snowflakes. Fairy lights hang from doorways, behind the TV, and wrapped around the backs of chairs.

The Christmas tree has its own corner. You can almost see the green of its leaves, hidden under rainbows of tinsel, baubles and flashing lights (solar powered).

If you're being honest, Emma, despite all her enthusiasm and love for the holiday, doesn't have the aptitude for decorating – often making anything she touches an eyesore. You spent a lot of your free time saving the house from herself: rejecting ideas, suggesting different decor, and having to rearrange anything she'd put up herself. In the end, you were both satisfied with your handiwork, pleased with the way you transformed your shared apartment.

You start the coffee machine, leaning against the counter as you do so.

"Morning!" you hear a chirp behind you, accompanied by the quick patter-patter of feet, before hands are on you, pulling you in for a tight hug. The smell of peaches and cream drifts into your nose, her natural omega scent soothing to your senses.

You smile, always happy to see your roommate. "Good morning to you, too, Emsy," you let out a choked chuckle, patting her arms as you finish your coffee. "Sleep well?"

Steam blankets the lower half of your face as you bring the mug to your lips, taking a small sip, letting the bitter liquid warm you from the inside out.

"Wonderfully, thanks for asking!"

You give her a nod in response, setting your mug on the counter, mumbling, "Good, good."

She pats your shoulder, pinching your sleep shirt with a tug. "Anyways," she says, drawing your attention to her. "Get ready. Still got things to do before the party tonight– chop chop!" Clapping her hands, you watch with a sigh as she prances to her room, excitement practically oozing from every pore in her body.

- - -

The smell of baking cookies envelops your small kitchen as you take the tray from the oven, taking a generous whiff of the treats. It's carefully set on the counter to give it time to cool off.

You look up to see Emma finish organising the food platters with a brush of her hands together. She looks proud, that much you can tell from the way she settles her hands on her hips with an overly pleased nod of her head.

She throws her head over her shoulder, sniffing at the air, "God, they smell good. Can't wait to gobble 'em all up."

Sparing a glance at her watch, she speaks in a sing-song tune. "Should be here soon, it's almost nine." She claps her hands together, rubbing them like a fly as she makes her way towards you. "Almost ready? Everybody's coming soon, as well as… y'know who…" a sly grin tugging at her mouth.

You sigh in exasperation at her antics, always the one to tease you. "Yeah, yeah…I know."

Knocking her hips with yours, she raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "Sooo… you making your move tonight, or…" She brings her lips to your ear, a whisper tickling your ears. "Am I gonna to have to give you a little shove?"

"Ems–"

"C'moon," she whines, "You've had the hots for him ages. Tonight has gotta be the night, arlight? No more waiting. Nope, zilch, nada. I wanna– no need to see you finally make a move."

"Alright, arlight," you give her a pointed look, hand raised to stop her from going on. "I hear you."

"I'm watching you," she smiles, snatching a cookie from the tray, and skipping away.

- - -

It's almost 10:00 pm, and no sign of Sam, much to your own relief. There are more people than you originally expected, filling up the small apartment, talking among themselves and enjoying the food and drinks.

Citrine, pine, fruits and many more scents cloud your senses, making it hard to distinguish Emma's as you navigate around everyone in search of her. You end up finding her, punch in hand, on the couch, chatting with people from her friend group.

Moving towards her, you don't expect to accidentally knock into someone. Their cup spills onto you, red, sticky punch coating your clothes and skin.

You don't take notice of the soft smell of vanilla and cedar with strong undertones of coffee, not until you hear a soft voice speaking your name, "Crap– I'm so sorry." Looking up from the mess, you meet soft, hazel eyes looking into yours with alarm.

Sam.

All 6'4" of him standing in front of you. You didn't notice him arrive, and from the way he has – or had – a drink, he must've been around for a few minutes at most.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he says, placing his hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the thick of the crowd. You can feel your face heat up at the contact.

You grab a shirt on your way to the bathroom, your bedroom being directly across from it. He goes to grab some wipes under the kitchen counter to clean up the juice on your skin.

You place yourself on the sink as he comes in with the wipes. He hands them to you with a "here you go," before leaving you to your privacy.

You quickly remove your shirt to throw it inside the clothes hamper, using the wipes to clean up the sticky residue. You feel somewhat embarrassed for bumping into him, but you're glad for his cool demeanor – never the one to get blow up, even over a spilled drink.

Leaving the bathroom, you find Sam leaning against a wall waiting for you. He gives you a soft smile when he sees you.

"Hey..." You say, wringing your fingers. "Sorry for bumping into you, I didn't mean to make you spill your drink."

"Hey," his voice soft, his pheromones calming you down. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

You breathe in his smell, giving him an awkward smile in return. "Okay, okay... If you say so."

- - -

Some time passes, and you both find yourselves talking away on the couch. You always enjoy listening to him speak, though he tend to avoid aspects of your life – such as his family, and you respect that and never pushed further.

Guests have started to leave, either going to another party or to go to bed for the night, you didn't know. Despite this, Sam had shown no intention of leaving, content to sit and talk with you for a while longer.

Emma walks over to you both, a smile and eyebrow raised at you in question. You choose to ignore it.

"So..." she starts, leaning over the backrest, arms folded in front of her. "How's both your nights going? Feeling the Christmas spirit?"

Sam responds, "Yeah, I'd say we are. Wouldn't you?" He directs, tilting his head towards you.

You nod, a little too quickly, a little too eager, for your liking. "Yeah, yeah..."

Emma tilts her head to the side, looking towards you before moving her attention to Sam, then back to you.

Leaning forward, she hums, looking back between you both. "Hmm, you two are sure looking cozy. Anything I should know...?" she teases.

You feel your heart start to race, looking towards Sam to find him looking at you already, looking at you for the answer. Your eyes are wide, his seeming to almost implore you.

"Uh–" you start before shutting your mouth, looking at Emma. You find herself a little flustered at your friends antics.

Feeling like a bundle of nerves, you decide to muster up what little courage you have. Facing Sam, you open your mouth to speak.

"Sam, I–"

He nods, patient for you to continue. You don't notice Emma leaving you to your privacy, but he does, shuffling closer to you on the couch. "Go on."

You take a take a deep breath, closing your eyes before trying again.

"I– I like you... Like, like you like you," you let out in one breath, wanting it over with. "I've always liked you if I'm being honest. Just, I wasn't sure if you felt the same way..."

He doesn't respond right away, your eyes opening in embarrassment. Except, you don't find him looking uncomfortable, instead he's looking at you with a soft gaze, a smile with a flash of teeth. "Yeah?" His voice soft.

"Yeah..." You exhale.

"Cause I feel the exact same about you."

A smile graces your features at his response, a small Huff of relief escaping you.

You watch as he leans forward, you mirroring his movements. His lips find yours, gentle, allowing for you to pull away. When you don't, A hand cups your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek as you get lost in the feeling.

Chubby!Bucky who smiles a real smile at his reflection because he likes what he sees. He feels no shame in the extra pounds or how his body looks.

Chubby!Bucky who isn’t just okay with how he looks but loves it. He’s comfortable and confident in his skin, feeling perfect just the way he is.

Chubby!Bucky who briefly remembers how he was once a weapon, his body an instrument of destruction. Now he’s a man who gets to choose what he eats, what he wears, and who he loves.

Chubby!Bucky who runs a hand along his belly, feeling warmth and softness instead of the abs he once had. He lets his stomach hang proudly instead of sucking it in when you’re close by, knowing you like how it looks and feels.

Chubby!Bucky who teases you from time to time and asks, “You like what you see, sweetheart?” He does that when he’s wearing clothes or naked.

Chubby!Bucky who knows his look turns you on no matter what from the way your breath catches, your pupils dilate, how your fingers itch to reach for him. It makes him feel good.

Chubby!Bucky who doesn’t flinch or tense up when you touch him because he has nothing to fear. He leans into it every time, craving it, craving you.

Chubby!Bucky who inhales, drawn to the kitchen due to the smell of cinnamon and butter. He knows you’re whipping up something delicious, though it isn’t half as delicious as you.

Chubby!Bucky who loses his breath when he sees you in nothing but an apron and a top that barely covers your ass. He can’t say you’re the only tease in the place since he purposely didn’t put a shirt on.

Chubby!Bucky who leans against the counter and crosses his arms, watching as you carefully roll out the dough. He smirks when you pretend not to notice him looking, but he doesn’t have to touch your face to know it’s hot under his stare.

Chubby!Bucky who stands taller when you steal a glance at him and sees you bite your lip. He looks good, and you both know it.

Chubby!Bucky who smiles to himself as you put the dough into the waiting pan. You’re making one his favorites, and it means the world that you’re doing that for him.

Chubby!Bucky who has to bite back a groan when you purposely reach for one more thing on a high shelf (that you don’t need), your top lifting and giving him more of a show. As much as he loves his body now, he loves yours even more.

Chubby!Bucky who strides across the room and stops behind you, pressing his warm and massive frame against you while he kisses your neck. “You baking something for me, sweetheart? Or are you just teasing me?” he asks, nuzzling your skin as you tilt your head, your breath hitching.

Chubby!Bucky who nips over your pulse when you breathe, “Both.” Of course, you’re baking for him and teasing him.

Chubby!Bucky who slides a hand under your shirt and apron to tease your breasts, smirking when you gasp. Call him greedy, but he can’t keep his hands off you.

Chubby!Bucky who groans when his other hand brushes your wet panties, making you whimper. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice rough with want when he rasps, “I think you’ve teased me enough. I want a taste now.”

Chubby!Bucky who closes his eyes when you press back against him and beg, “Please.” He’s hard, aching to be inside you, but he wants to take care of you first.

Chubby!Bucky who lifts you onto the counter with ease, flour coating your thighs, and kisses you slow and deep. It’s like he’s savoring the first taste of his favorite dessert.

Chubby!Bucky who deepens the kiss but doesn’t rush. You helped teach him the pleasure of indulgence, taking his time, of being worshipped and worshipping in return.

Chubby!Bucky who pulls away and murmurs, “I just need one taste.” The unspoken words “to start” hang in the air between you.

Chubby!Bucky who kisses your fingers, your inner wrists, removing the apron and shirt so he can kiss your breasts stomach. “You feed me, love me, ruin me,” he whispers.

Chubby!Bucky who sinks to his knees and gazes up at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “Let me have you,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh.

Chubby!Bucky who pushes your panties aside before you part your legs more, silently offering for him to eat until he has his fill. You’ll never keep him from his dessert.

Chubby!Bucky who makes you grip his hair, your cries filling the space as he licks and plunges his tongue deep, savoring your wetness the way he savored your kisses. You’re his favorite flavor.

Chubby!Bucky who is determined to make you come on his tongue before the timer goes off, though he’s certain you’ve forgotten all about pre-heating the oven. The inferno between you two is much hotter and important.

Chubby!Bucky who gets his wish when you cry out his name, your release flooding his mouth. He moans greedily, taking every drop he can because it’ll never be enough.

Chubby!Bucky who kisses your mouth when he’s done, his belly pressed against yours as he pulls you close. You may not enjoy the way you taste, but he thinks it’s a delicacy.

Chubby!Bucky who sighs when you take him out of his pants, his cock hard, heavy, and ready. He brings you back to the edge of the counter so he can sink inside you, inch by inch.

Chubby!Bucky who moans with you as he bottoms out, and freezes when the timer beeps. “I was hoping to get you off again before that went off,” he teases, making you laugh, too, and tighten around him.

Chubby!Bucky who presses his forehead against yours when you say, “Ignore it, and get us both off. Please.” That’s all he wants to do.

Chubby!Bucky who fucks you gently, your nails digging into his shoulders as he makes you cry out again. The smell of sex somehow works well with the kitchen aroma.

Chubby!Bucky who feels tingles at the base of his spine when your hands roam his body, wherever you can reach. His body is your temple, like yours is his.

Chubby!Bucky who almost loses it when you moan, “I love you, Bucky.” Your love makes him believe he can accomplish anything.

Chubby!Bucky who snaps his hips a little harder, moving in you a little deeper, when he moans, “I love you, too.” He’ll always love you.

Chubby!Bucky who moans into your mouth when you tip over the edge, filling you up after a few more thrusts. It feels like heaven every time.

Chubby!Bucky who carries you to the bathroom to clean you up, murmuring “You’re always so good for me…” in a low voice. His heart skips a beat when you exhale, “You’re perfect to and for me.”

Chubby!Bucky who feels his chest get tight and says above a whisper, “Thank you.” He’s thanking you for loving and accepting him as he is.

Chubby!Bucky who later eats a pastry off your body once you finally get to bake it, licking crumbs from your chest and groaning as he works his way back down. You really are the best thing he has ever tasted.

Chubby!Bucky who smirks and raises an eyebrow when you tell him, “I thought you just wanted one taste.” Did you really think he’d stop at one?

Chubby!Bucky who smiles when he looks up at you, his lips shining as he moves back up your body. “You deserve a taste of something sweet, too,” he says, feeding you a bite of the pastry.

Chubby!Bucky who kisses your forehead later as the day comes to an end, cherishing the fact that he gets to have you in his arms and in his life. He feels in his bones that he’s worthy of the life he has now.

Chubby!Bucky who holds you closer, your hand caressing his belly in a tender gesture, and whispers, “You make me feel like I’m worth something.” His heart races when you smile and whisper, “You’re worth everything.”

Chubby!Bucky who removes his dog tags and puts them around your neck. You hold your breath, your eyes filling with tears when he says, “So are you, sweetheart. So are you.”

Chubby!Bucky who sighs when you kiss him, his thumb wiping away a tear that slips out. It isn’t a proposal with a ring, but it is a promise that you belong to each other and always will.

Chubby!Bucky who falls asleep in your bed with a full belly, a full heart, and your body curled up against his. He’s safe, loved, and happier than he ever could’ve imagined.

I know no one asked for this, but I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

“Hi, darlin’. How’s tonight treating you?” His eyes roam down my face and my body, but it’s such a quick movement that I think I’m imagining it. 

I hope he can’t feel the heat that’s rising in my cheeks. I pretend to busy myself with wiping down the counter again. “Oh you know. Better now that you’re here.” What did I just say? “What uh…what are you doing here on a Tuesday?”

Will chuckles. “Glad to know I have that effect on you…. I uh, my brother had an appointment nearby so I figured I’d drop in. So, uh…” he clears his throat. “What’s the uh…special? Any special flavor of the week?”

Was he nervous? He doesn’t usually trip over his words. “Uh yeah. It’s lychee.”

“Bless you.”

I smile, a small chuckle coming from me. “No. Lychee. It’s a fruit.”

His eyes study my face. “Do you like it?”

Do I? “I don’t typically get it, but I do like it.”

“Then I’ll take it.”

I nod as I ring him up, Will tapping his card against the reader. I hand him his receipt and get to work on his drink. 

“You..you have any plans this weekend?” He asks and I nearly drop the shaker I’m holding. He can’t possibly be asking me out? No. He’s just nice. He’s way out of my league.

“A thrilling evening of attempting to teach myself embroidery.”

He nods. “Any particular reason to learn that?”

I turn and hand him his drink and a boba straw. “I always wanted to add little things to my clothes and such. Make them unique.”

“You’re already unique.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks and I suddenly have forgotten every word I’ve ever known. But I don’t get time to recoup because the door chime rings out and another tall, blonde man comes in.

“Hey man!” The man approached Will, who suddenly looks very nervous.

“What happened to your appointment?”

The man shrugged. “Finished early. What’s it matter? It’s not like….” His voice trails off as he looks around, seeming to finally take in his surroundings. “Wait…is this the boba shop? The boba shop?”

“Shut up, Benny,” Will says under his breath, but Benny ignores him, a smile spreading quickly across his face.

“It is, ain’t it! The one with that girl you won’t shut up about-”

“Benny!” Will was less quiet this time, but that’s no matter. My brain still can’t process girl you won’t shut up about.

The man, Benny, turns to me, a wide smile on his face as he stretches his hand out. “Hi. You must be the girl. I’m Benny, his brother.”

Did this family win the genetic lottery? I shake his hand and tell him my name. “It’s nice to meet you. Hey, what do you mean about can’t shut up about me?”

Benny’s eyes twinkle as he leans in. “Well-”

“Ok!” Will grips his shoulder and pulls him back. “Why don’t you go meet me at the truck?”

Benny smirks but looks back at me. “I’m being kicked out. It was nice to meet you, boba girl.”

I chuckle. “Nice to meet you too, Benny.”

Will tries his best at shoving Benny across the small store to the front door, but it still doesn’t stop Benny from saying “I know you said she was hot, but damn.” Will closes the door behind Benny and waves at him to move along. Benny’s smile could be seen from space as he walks off, giving his brother a thumbs up. Will sighs and turns back to me, walking back over to the counter, not quite meeting my eyes. He rubs the back of his neck.

“Sorry about him. We had him tested but he’s just that way.”

“I have a cousin like that.”

He smiles, his eyes finding mine as he leans in towards the counter. “So…I have a confession.”

I lean towards him from my side of the counter. “Oh? Is it juicy? Do tell.”

He sets the cup of tea down on the counter, his eyes never leaving mine. “I hate boba.”

My eyebrows scrunch together. “What do you mean?”

“I hate boba.”

“Lychee isn’t for everyone-”

Will shakes his head. “No. All of them. It’s just not my thing.”

“Oh…then why do you keep ordering them? Especially three times a week?”

His eyes glance down my body and back up. “Do you really not know why?”

Warmth rushes me all over. There’s no way. He can’t mean…I shake my head. “N-no?”

He takes a deep breath. “That’s my fault. I’m good with people typically, but you? My words get all jumbled up. I can’t think when I look at you. Your eyes, your voice, your curves? Do you even know what you do to me?” 

“But you’re way out of my league…” I whisper. 

His eyes snap to mine and he puts his hand over mine. “It’s actually the opposite. You’re so damn hot.”

I scoff. “Yeah, ok.” I start to pull away but he grips my hand tighter. His other hand comes up to my chin as he tips my face up to look at his. 

“Darlin’, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time we met. Why else do you think I keep coming back?”

I swallow hard, willing the tears beading around the corner of my vision to stop. “I..I’m not the one that gets pursued.”

“Well now you are. Will you put aside your embroidery lessons and go to dinner with me this weekend?”

I’d be lying if I said I never pictured Will asking me out, but I never even entertained the idea of it actually happening. And now? With his slate blue eyes watching me, full of hope and a little worry? 

I smile. “What should I wear?”

We exchange numbers and another customer walks in. I greet them and Will taps the counter with his knuckle. “See you Saturday at 7pm.”

“I can’t wait.”

I start to take the new customers order, but as Will leaves (and I stare at his ass), I see his brother run up to him, asking him something. When Will nods, Benny whoops, literally, and fist pumps the air, Will quickly punching his arm before they walk out of view. I get the customers drinks to them and they leave, thanking me before the doors closes. I open my phone and quickly scroll down to his name, nervously hitting the compose message button. But before I can, a text from Will pops up.

Will: Just checking this is really you

I smile. 

Me: It’s really me.

Will: I can’t wait to see you in civilian clothing Saturday

Me: you still want to go out?

Will: Darlin’, I’m trying to be as respectful as I can here, but sdlkjfhkrjthrktju.tyujmn 

My eyebrows scrunch together. What? But then I see the 3 dots pop up and I wait.

Will: Sorry, my stupid fucking brother tried to take my phone from me. I better put it away before he says more embarrassing shit. Saturday at 7pm.

Me: Saturday at 7pm

I’m still not convinced I didn’t make this up, but I do know that this is the most excited I’ve been about anything for a long time. 

-------

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