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#supernatural tickle
supermarvel-fics · 4 months
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Hi anon who requested the Supernatural headcanons :)
Lee and Ler Headcanons for both Sam and Dean please🥰
Sam and Dean Tickle Headcanons
SAM - LER
as a ler, sam is pretty ruthless when he needs to be.
growing up with dean, he can get irritated quickly, so if you're getting on his nerves, he'll let you know by tickling you.
it will start out as quick jabs to the side or harsh pinches to your kneecaps.
"oh, you're just asking for it now..."
if you egg him on, it will turn into a fully blown attack until you're left crying and pleading for mercy.
afterwards, he'll think he genuinely put you in distress and run to get you water and then hold you for as long as you need.
SAM - LEE
growing up with dean, sam got his fair share of being tickled.
he's the pleading type. the guy who will beg and make deals just so he won't be tickled.
"please, don't! I'll wash the car! I won't touch the car! I'll do your dirty laundry, just DON'T!"
when someone finally gets their hands on him, sam has a laugh they won't expect. it's a bit high-pitched.
he's a fighter, so he'll flail and squirm the entire time unless you're bigger than him and can hold him down.
his ribs are his most ticklish spot and that's where you can effectively weaken him.
DEAN - LER
as an older brother, dean knows just how to get you to talk or basically do anything he wants.
he's a highly skilled tickler, knowing just how to wreck you.
he's got that stern exterior, so he can be downright menacing when he's about to tickle you.
"you wanna repeat that?"
he can also turn it very sexy.
"oh, don't think I've forgotten where you're ticklish, sweetheart. we'll finish this later."
he can deduce you to a giggling mess before he even touches you just with a mischievous smirk.
he's a pinch and squeeze kind of guy, tickling harshly to get the loudest laughs from you.
DEAN - LEE
the tables completely turn when dean ends up on the receiving end.
he'll deny that he's ticklish until he's blue in the face, but everyone knows that it's a lie.
he'll threaten you just before you get the upper hand, making sure you know that he'll get you back eventually.
"I'd rethink this if I were you..."
"If you so much as put a hand on me, I swear to God."
you know it's all an act. you know dean secretly loves the playfulness (though he'd never admit it)
his most ticklish spot in that hollow dip in his hips and if you ever needed information from him, that's where you'd get it.
he'll fight it at first but will eventually calm down and take it once he realizes it's not so bad.
after a while, he becomes comfortable enough where he can actually enjoy the feeling of the soft, lazy tickles just because it gives him goosebumps and he feels loved and cared for.
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potatohater · 1 month
Text
Big brother’s love
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester (a bit of Castiel)
Word count: 1929
MY BABIES AHHGRRR; I just NEEDED some brothers fluff and HERE WE GO, LEE!SAM FOREVER🙏 love them, here it’s like moments since childhood-season 6 (bc I’m watching it rn) (btw @cringemesstickles I know that you’re a sucker for lee!sam so you might wanna check this one out🤭)
;
Dean loved making Sam smile, even though Sam always tried to hide it, making himself look more serious, deep down Dean always knew how to crack him
**
Older Winchester woke up and sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes. Clock said 8:03 am and he had no idea how he got so early today. John left them for a week.. which turned into two as he couldn’t kill the vampire he was hunting, so two teenage boys spent most of the time in the hotel room; not bothered by trying to pick up a school if they are going to attend it only for a few days.
Sam looked up from his book to take a look at his brother when he froze for half a second, biting back a smile
“What?” Dean asked him, was it something on his face or something?
“Oh no nothing” younger boy replied, trying to focus on his book, but taking a quick glance at Dean. Now him biting back a smile was even more visible
“Is it something on my face?” Dean’s brows furrowed as he asked out loud
He took a half glance in the mirror in the middle of the room and saw how his hair in the middle was slick back, but on the sides it was sticking up in all directions, making him look ridiculous. In what pose did he even had to sleep to get this hairstyle?
He turned his eyes back to Sam, seeing how hard he tried to focus on the book in front of him. They locked eyes as Dean wiggled his eyebrows, trying to play dumb to get the kid to crack
Even though Sammy was quite serious for a kid his age, it wasn’t that hard to make him laugh. 11 year old boy mostly found Dean’s fails funny, when he tried to flirt with a girl but got rejected. This type of fails
“I see you, what’s up? Why are you acting like thi—” Dean didn’t got to finish his sentence when younger boy broke into a stream of giggles. It was really easy to make him laugh sometimes
“Ihit’s juhust youhur hahair” Sam giggled quietly, dimples appearing on his cheeks as his face broke into shy smile. Like he knew it was a bit too childish even for him
Dean took a proper look into the mirror and chuckled too. His eyes were dead and the whole hair thing looked like he experienced getting struck by a lightning
He shook his head, standing up and quickly ruffled kid’s hair too so they would match
“Hehey!” Sam shoved his hand, trying to sound annoyed, but giggles in his voice ruined the whole facade
Yes. As Dean would say, it was pretty easy and unbearably hard to make younger Winchester laugh sometimes. The kid got specific humour
**
“SAMMY”
Sam who was standing in the middle of the room doubled on the floor laughing as he saw his brother’s head sticking from the bathroom doorway. They had a little prank war going on and younger Winchester decided it would be hilarious to put some hair dye into Dean’s shampoo
Dean on the other hand wasn’t so happy. His hair was dripping wet and his neck and shoulders were also covered in dark-ish blue dye. His mouth twitched for a second when he was his brother on the floor laughing his ass off, but taking another look in the mirror reminded him that revenge is necessary
“Come here bitch!” Dean said while putting his pants on and running in Sam’s direction. Long haired teenager quickly tried to stand up, but was immediately tackled to the floor by his brother; not like he put up a fight, Sam was mostly giggling like a madman every time he looked at Dean
“Something funny?” Dean tried to look serious but small grin crept into his face as he saw his brother pinned underneath him “Oh I can give you something to laugh at”
With that said, he wiggled his fingers into Sam’s side, making his giggles transform into full on laughter
Damn it sounded good; Dean could swear his laugh immediately filled the whole room, lighting it up
“DEHehean! stOHOP IHihi aham tohoho ohOHOLD FOHOR THIHIS”
“You are only 16 kid, the only one old here is me, and apparently I’m gonna have blue hair for the next—MONTH THANKS TO YOU” Dean chuckled as he raised his voice over Sam’s so he would hear him
Sam’s laugh got higher when he darted his eyes at Dean over him who was still dripping in blue colour
“Any last words?”
“IHIHIT WAHAS SOHOHO WOHORTH IHIHIT” Sam looked at Dean one last time before losing himself in his own laughter again. Dean’s grin got wider with every second as he tickled his brother on the motel floor. Maybe he didn’t care that much about his hair
**
“Dean!” Sam squeaked as Dean made a move in his direction
“Sam!” Dean chuckled, mirroring his brother’s tone
They were standing at opposite sides of a table in the motel room, waiting for other one to make a move. Well, long story short — Dean found out Sam still had his weakness in touch, apparently Sam was surprised too
“Don’t!” Sam tried to threaten but smile on his face outweighed all the venom in his voice
Dean was wearing a grin on his own, quickly running around the table to catch his brother
They were doing it for the past few minutes, but this time Dean actually tackled Sam on the floor. Both laughing the whole time they tried to gain an upper hand
“DEHEHEHEAN!”
Older Winchester got his hands squeezing his brother’s knees as he watched his reaction
Sam was okay before.. well maybe a little tired and declined any offer to take a proper sleep, saying that “he was okay taking 2 hour naps every few days”; so as every good brother, Dean just needed an excuse to mess with him. They deserve to have fun once in a while, especially Sam
“Ha! Man you didn’t change— do you still do that? Wait let me check” Dean said as he got his hands to Sam’s ribs, playing them like a guitar
Sam’s laughter transformed into high-pitched giggles that were just music to his brother’s ears
“That’s what you get for not getting to bed. Gosh it’s like I’m 15 again, forcing you to sleep”
Sam’s laughter rang even louder at the recalling memories of their childhood, as joyful sounds came out of him
“And now you are 23 and you didn’t change a bit” Dean grinned, eliciting more sounds form Sam
**
“Ohokay okay, easy tiger” Older Winchester chuckled at his baby brother who drank a bit too much in the bar. Dean was immune for a few shots of tequila, considering how much alcohol he consumes, Sam wasn’t that strong
“What is wrong with him?” Castiel was standing in the middle of the motel room Winchesters were staying
“Has gone a little overboard, but who gives a shit. I finally convinced him to take a few days off and I don’t care that there is a fucking apocalypse, okay? He needed a moment to breathe out” Dean replied as he caught his brother from falling on the floor and threw him on the bed, making it easier for both of them
“So what now?”
“Well, I’m gonna take his coat and shoes off and let him sleep. Oh man, a hangover tomorrow is going to be ruthless” Older brother chuckled
He motioned Cas to come closer and hold Sam’s abdomen as he took the coat of him. On accident, one of Cas’ hands got under younger Winchester’s arms, making him squirm a bit and let out a quiet giggle
“What was that?” Dean and Cas almost said in unison as Dean put his brother’s clothes and shoes in the wardrobe
Dean’s brows knitted together as a small grin broke his face
“Hey Cas, can you spread his elbows like— yeah like that” Dean full on smiled
Angel did as he was told, grabbing both Sam’s elbows and raised them up, spreading them. Meanwhile Sam was too tired to stop anything.
Dean took a step closer, warming his fingers under Sam’s arms. His brother’s face immediately broke down into wide smile when he clamped his arms down, doing nothing to stop the sensation
“What are you do— waHAHEHehait!” Sam got out of Castiel’s grip and slammed his back into the bed where he was previously sitting (or at least tried to). His eyes were squeezed and smile shining, showing all his teeth
“Damn Sammy, a drop of alcohol in you, and you become even more ticklish than when you were a kid” Dean beamed
“What is wrong with him?” Cas now stood up, and standing next to the bed stared at laughing younger brother who couldn’t even put up a fight because he was so intoxicated and an older brother who now was sitting on his lower half, pinning him and tickling him, having a smile on his face as big as Sam’s. A look of confusion and amusement mixing up in angel
“Oh, it’s called tickling. It’s when you touch some parts of the body that make other person laugh. It’s a body reaction our ancestors had back in the day for surviving. Now it’s.. for messing with your baby brother for example”
“And he laughs because it’s body’s reaction” Cas repeated, trying to make sense out of it
“Pretty much”
“Huh” Cas wanted to say something but his hearing focused on Sam’s high-pitched laughter again. Making his face to share the same kind of grin Dean has been wearing
Right now and there he noticed that Sam didn’t laugh enough. His laugh is too nice to hide it under all these layers of seriousness
“heheHESTOHOHOP DEhehean!” Sam laughed, eyes squeezed shut and hands trying to catch his brother but he even when he did he was to tired to do anything that shove lightly at them
Cas and Dean joined him, chuckling everytime he made some funny noise. “Yeah” Cas thought “humans are cute”
**
“Hey, you okay?” Dean’s voice rang through the living room where his brother was sitting
They stayed at Bobby’s for some time, trying to find out more about this “Mother” bullshit, someone that can ruin their world and kill everyone (again)
“You know what I did, Dean. That whole year was—” Sam was interrupted by his brother who nudged him in the side with his elbow
“Come on, we’ve been through this. I— you can’t believe how glad I’m that you’re back. That was not you Sammy”
Sam tried to fight, but found that it’s easier just to listen to Dean. “Yeah, maybe you’re right”
“Dude you couldn’t believe how DRY you were, I mean, your humour was purely based on making fun of something. We were almost killed multiple times because you found demons funny and just laughed at their faces” Dean recalled with amused chuckle
Sam let his own small smile to tug at his lips
“Well, at least I got you back, and you still think I’m a god of comedy” Older brother wigged his brows
“Oh you wish” Sam shook his head with a snicker
“What? I’m hilarious” Dean said, poking his brother which made him giggle
“See? You do still find me funny” Each word was highlighted by a poke to Sam’s side, making him giggle again and playfully slap Dean’s hand
“Yeheah, maybe I stihil do”
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soft--dragon · 6 months
Text
The Winchester Focus Methods
Words: 2,819
Warnings: None
This is all entirely platonic!! Just Dad!Sam and fluff here folks, the season 15 finale was enough angst for me to last a lifetime honestly
This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)
"Something wrong?"
"I don't know," Jack frowns, glaring down at the book like it personally offended him. "My brain doesn't like words."
A smile twitches at Sam's lips, settling back in his chair as he watches Jack squint at the thick book. "What do you mean?" He asks gently. 
"Well, I'm reading," Jack slowly explains, running a finger along the text. "But I'm not taking in anything, my brain keeps getting distracted. It doesn't like words." 
Sam chuckles a bit, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "You mean you're bored?" 
Jack pouts, honest to god pouts. "...I think so," he mutters. 
Sam smiles with a fond roll of his eyes. "Alright, well, Dean and Cas need this thing researched, so we gotta do the boring stuff."
Jack frowns harder, shoulders slumping so far it was a wonder they stayed attached to his body. Sam eyes him for a moment, then resettles himself in his chair.  "Stand up and have a walk around." 
The boy glanced up with a scrunched brow. "Huh?" He asks eloquently.  
Sam gives a small wave of encouragement. "Take a walk, get your blood flowing again. It'll help you focus." 
Jack considers it for a moment then shrugs and stands from his chair, taking a small step away from the table. He sends a wary glance to Sam who simply nods with a smile, turning his attention back to the book so the kid doesn’t feel watched. Slowly but surely, Jack begins to pace laps around the table, eyes flicking from Sam to the books surrounding the library. Occasionally he would click his fingers or tap at his thighs, seemingly determined to get his brain back to liking words again. 
Unable to help himself, Sam shifted his gaze from the text to Jack, powerless to hold back his amused smile from the boy's endearing antics. It reminded him of himself actually, back when he was younger and didn't want to research what John had instructed him to. It was Dean who suggested walking around to get him focused again. Well, that and a couple of other tactics. ‘The Winchester Focus Methods’, Dean had dubbed it when they were kids, - tested and guaranteed to get your brain back in working order for hunting. 
Sam was sure they were just little distractions Dean made for him so he didn’t get morose from researching and sitting still for so long. His smile softens at the thought, thumbing the page he was meant to be reading. Dean really did do whatever he could to make Sam’s childhood bearable. 
"Sam, I don't think this is working." 
Sam is pulled from his thoughts by Jack’s voice. He glances back to the kid who looks put out by the lack of progress, picking at the lint on his blue sweater with a furrow to his eyebrows. His forehead was going to become permanently scrunched if he kept doing that so often, Sam thought idly.
"You've been walking around for two minutes," he says with an amused huff, but he leans away from his book anyway to address the Nephilim properly. "It can take a bit longer than that." 
"This is boring too," Jack sighs. Now that he knows the word for his lack of attention, he is going to use it as much as he wants.
Sam internally sighs. Alright then, ‘Winchester Focus Method Number Two’ was going to have to come into play. Sliding his chair back, Sam stands and stretches his arms over his head. "You sure you don't want to just keep walking?" He asks. 
Jack shuffles his feet and shakes his head. "No. I don't think it's working."
“Alright, Plan B." 
Sam steps around the table and moves towards Jack. At the last second, he leans down towards Jack's legs and scoops him up and over his shoulder. Jack's loud yelp of alarm is followed by quick scrabbling for purchase on Sam's back. He grabs handfuls of the man's shirt, elbows digging into Sam's ribs to hold himself up. Sam lightly jostles him to make his elbows slip off the protesting bones, leaving Jack lying helplessly over Sam's spine. 
"Woah- Sam, what are you doing?" 
"You said the walking wasn't working," Sam replies, barely holding back a grin as he walks to the towering shelves of books and runs his index finger down the spines. "This will help the blood get to your head instead. So hang back there and get focused while I finish my half of the research, okay?" 
Mildly disorientated, Jack tries to push himself up on Sam again, a smile on his face at the sudden playfulness from the man. A giggle spills out involuntarily as he slips back down and is fully stretched out from the shift in gravity. "Put me down!" 
Hearing the mirthful noises makes Sam grin, shrugging to shift the kid around as he answers. "What was that? Sorry Jack, can't hear you back there." 
"Yes, you can!" Jack argues, knowing Sam is most definitely not deaf, and he isn’t that far out of range. Sam could hear him perfectly fine.
"Wow, really muffled aren't you, buddy?" Sam hums innocently, quickly lowering himself to look at the bottom shelves and grinning when Jack yelps and laughs harder at the sudden movement. 
"Sam!"
"Jack, I'm trying to find a book on ancient totems. I can't focus with all that laughing," Sam scolds jokingly, squeezing the boy's knee gently. 
Jack's socked foot shoots out and almost kicks the shelf, a squeak sounding out from the boy. Sam stares at the leg he'd squeezed, and then his smile widens. "Oh, well that's something."
Jack, now gripping Sam's flannel shirt from surprise, blinks wildly. "What was that?" He asks, attempting to sit up on Sam's shoulder but finding as much purchase as before - which was little to none. 
"Jack, you're not ticklish are you?" 
Jack picked up on the mischievous tone in Sam's voice, and for some reason, he felt a rush of weird buzzing through his body. Adrenaline? Nervousness? Whatever it was, it was odd. 
"Ticklish?" He repeats in confusion, not understanding his body's reaction to the word. 
Sam stands again, making sure Jack is secure over his shoulder before squeezing the boy's knee once more. A sharp yelp left Jack again, his whole form wriggling on Sam's shoulder as he gasped. "Whahat is that?" He asks, shaking his leg to free it from the aftershock of weird tingles. 
Sam chuckles, and Jack feels it from how he's lying over Sam’s shoulder. "Oh, kiddo," he grins. "You're about to find out."
Winchester Focus Method Number Three has arrived at the door - AKA, Dean’s favorite method. 
Keeping an arm stretched around Jack to keep him secure over his shoulder, Sam sets to work squeezing Jack’s knees and calf muscles, chuckling at the boy’s wild kicks and high-pitched squeaks of laughter. The Nephilim keeps switching between squirming for freedom from the barrage of tickling sparks, and going limp on reflex to hopefully slide off Sam’s shoulder. The latter option was useless however as Sam’s grip on him is solid, keeping Jack safe by not letting him fall but ultimately holding him captive in the ticklish trap. 
“S-SahAHAHam!” Jack whines, lightly beating his fist onto Sam’s back to cope with the strange, electric sensations racing along his nervous system. 
“Feeling focused yet?” Sam asks innocently, spidering over the underside of Jack’s foot, chuckling when the boy practically shrieks. 
“NOHOHO!”
“Well, better keep going then,” hums Sam, walking over to the couch sitting on the far wall of the research room. “Can’t let up until you feel ready to research again.”
“Thihihis ihihisn’t hehelping!”
“Sure it is, Dean used to do this to me constantly. You’ll feel ready to go in no time.” Sam let go of Jack to hike him off of his shoulder and drop him onto the couch - gently, of course, he had the title of ‘Responsible Dad’ for a reason. 
Jack bounces a bit on the cushions from his high fall, a hand resting on his stomach as he giggles insistently. “Whihiy am Ihihi laughing soho muhuhuch?” he presses through the titters that keep tumbling unbridled from his lips. 
Jack curls up into a ball in fresh peals of laughter, his hands torn between holding onto Sam’s and pressing against the man’s chest. Sam noticed however, the kid wasn’t trying to stop him, he was just trying to find something to hang onto. It had happened when the kid was on his shoulder as well, he’d held onto the hunter’s shirt in a vice grip. 
“Cause you’re ticklish, bud,” Sam grins, plopping down on the couch and scooping Jack back to lie over his legs, his hands latching around the Nephilm's ribs and scratching at the backs of the bones. “Very ticklish, apparently.”
"You still bored? Want to go back to researching now?" Sam asks, wiggling his fingers along Jack's sides. 
The boy's knees fly up to his torso in hopes of blocking the new spot, screwing his eyes closed as he grins brighter than the sun. He doesn't know why he stubbornly shakes his head, too caught up in the fun of the game Sam had sprung to want to go near the books again. 
"No?" The younger Winchester seems surprised by the answer, though he can't stop smiling despite himself. "Really? Thought you would be itching to get back to it." As he speaks, Sam reaches over to Jack's feet and scuttles his fingers under his toes, delighting in the sharp squeal and hiccuping giggles produced from the action. 
Kicking his legs away from Sam's fingers, Jack grips the arm still caging him in - the one that was still teasing his sensitive side. "Nohoho! No mohore research!" 
"How come? Thought you loved learning new things," Sam insists, then brightens with an idea. “Hey, speaking of, do you know how many ribs you've got, Jack?’
The blonde scrunches his brow again in confusion. “W-Whahahat?”
“Your ribs,” Sam repeats, thumbing the lowest set of bones gently and delighting at the bubbly giggle Jack lets out from the touch. “Humans have twenty-four, but you're a Nephilim - an angel and human hybrid. I wonder if you have more or less than a human does.”
Jack’s eyebrows shoot up and he instantly drops his hands to Sam’s, clinging onto them as he catches onto the man’s plan. He presses out between giggles, “Ihihihi hahave twehenty fohour!”
“You sure?” Sam squints at the boy. “I might need to count them just to be safe.” 
Sam’s purposefully ignoring the importance of the research at this point, intent on keeping Jack with a smile on his face and laughter in the air. Dean and Cas didn't need the information urgently,  and he hasn't had a chance to mess around with Jack with everything going on. Deep down, he's sure they both need this break. 
Returning to the mission of counting, Sam’s fingers gently probe around Jack’s bottom ribs, pinching the backs to make Jack buck reflexively with a squeal from the change in technique, his eyes squinty from the size of his smile. “Sahaham! Ihihit- ihihit tihihickles!”
“That’s kinda the point, buddy,” Sam chuckles. “Now that’s definitely one, here’s twoooo, threeeee, fooooour~ Good news so far, Jack, you’ve got four sets of ribs! Let’s hope the other eight are there too.”
Jack throws his head back on the couch cushions from where he’s draped over the hunter’s lap. His legs kick at the arm of the furniture as he squeaks and giggles frantically. The tickle attack was maddening, sparks dancing through his bones and making him twist involuntarily. He hasn’t felt anything like this before, and while part of him wonders how he’s been brought to a puddle of laughter so fast, the other part of him is enjoying the playful attention. Sam is reaching the tops of his ribcage when a sensitive nerve on his back gets scratched in passing, and Jack can’t stop the noise that leaves him. 
Sam pauses his skittering fingers and stares down at the boy who now has a hand firmly clamped over his mouth. “Did you just snort?” Sam laughs, eyes alight with adoration. 
Jack looks helplessly to the side, ears flushed with warmth as he tries to defend himself. “N-Nohoho…” It sounds weak even to him. 
“Oh, you so did!” Sam’s nails are now skittering feather-light across Jack’s shoulder blades. He cackles when the Nephilim tries to roll off of his lap instantly from the sudden onslaught which only exposes the soft spot further. “Oh my god, you’re just like Cas, he can’t stand this either.”
With the escape attempt interrupted, Jack is now lying on his side, one of Sam’s hands teasing the hypersensitive spot where his cloaked wings are connected to his body, while the other pokes and pinches the soft flesh of his stomach. He’s utterly trapped between two ticklish hells and it doesn't help he’s snorting again. The loud, uncontrolled sounds peppered between bouts of hearty cackles. Every time he shifts one way to roll over and block a spot, he’s met with more tickles, both spots stupidly sensitive to Sam’s wiggling digits. Jack’s kept on his side, laughing helplessly into the fabric of Sam’s jeans and drumming his socked feet into the couch. 
The tickle attack lasts another minute or two before Sam finally lets up, rubbing his hands down the boy’s back comfortingly to soothe the lingering tingles. Jack slumps on his thighs, complete dead weight as he remembers how to breathe. Sam keeps the comforting rubbing going as he fixes the wild strands from Jack’s usually well-kept hair that had fallen across his face. Combing through the soft, golden strands, Sam leans over to check the kid hasn’t fallen asleep on him. 
“You alright, Jack?” He asks softly, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. 
“Yeheah,” Jack mumbles, his smile seemingly permanently etched into his face.
Sam chuckles. “You’re still giggly?” he teases lightly. 
The boy rolls over onto his back to look up at Sam with half-lidded, happy eyes. “Tihickles,” he answers simply. 
Sam grins, smoothing down Jack’s hair again and patting his sweater. “You’re okay though?”
Jack nods, eyelashes fluttering as he relaxes entirely on Sam’s legs. “It was fun,” he answers honestly. “I liked it.”
The answer is enough to make Sam’s chest feel lighter than it has in a long time, pure adoration for his kid making him smile fondly. “I’m glad,” he replies warmly. “Most people hate it cause it can feel overwhelming or they’re too ticklish. Honestly, you might just give Dean a run for his money with those reactions.”
Jack’s eyes widen and he suddenly looks a hell of a lot more energized than he did a second ago. “Dean’s ticklish?” he demands.
The long-haired hunter exhales a fond laugh, sitting back on the couch and rubbing a hand down his face. “He’s gonna kill me for telling you that… but yeah, he is.”
Jack sits up and presses his hands on Sam’s knees to support himself. “Will you help me take him down?” He asks, terrifyingly serious for something as simple as a tickle attack.
Sam considers it for a moment. On one hand, it would make some great photos for blackmail - it would definitely outweigh the photo Dean still has of him asleep with a spoon in his mouth. On the other hand, the repercussions of it would be heavy. 
…Eh, fuck it. 
He’s Sam Winchester. He’s saved the world from three apocalypses and fought the Devil himself. He can handle his older brother’s revenge. 
“I’m in,” he agrees, then glances at the table where the books are still stacked high. “Though, if you wanna get him sooner rather than later, we need to finish that research.” 
“Right!” 
Jack leaps off the couch and practically slams back into his chair, grabbing the book he’d been previously staring at before. Sam has to hold back a snort of his own at how fast the kid moved, heaving himself off the couch to sit opposite the Nephilim. He drags his own book back to sit in front of him, resting his cheek on an open palm while the other snags his pencil. 
Sam smirks into his palm. Dean was going to wish he’d stayed out when he got back. He didn’t doubt for a second Cas was going to join in on the harmless attack. Well… mostly harmless anyway. Depends if they pin Dean down well enough, he’s been known to be a kicker. 
“Sam.”
Flexing his eyebrows to show he was listening to Jack, he hums, “Yeah, kid?”
“My brain likes words again.”
Sam shakes his head with a grin. “Glad to hear it, bud. Let’s put it to use.”
Welp, seems there was another tactic to add to the Winchester Focus Methods; ‘Plan A Future Attack On An Unsuspecting Friend’. It felt like a fitting addition.
86 notes · View notes
iamawolfstarsimp · 5 months
Text
Sup bitches im back
And I've come bearing gifts of yet another spn fic (I'm in my active writing era 😌💅)
(this is set in season 13 or 14)
So yeah enjoy
Jack was a curious kid, obviously. It was no secret the kid loved to learn about most anything and everything. Even just listening sometimes was enough for him.
Once Dean had gotten attached to the kid, he didn't really mind answering all of Jack's questions.
Jack was especially curious whenever he was allowed on a hunt with them, wanting to know everything about what kind of monster they were hunting.
On an ordinary day though, Jack was more quiet. You could usually find him in his room reading while listening to rock music (Dean had told him that it was the only 'good' kind of music) or watching cartoons on the TV that Cas had given to him from his room. Mostly, they all kept to themselves on the days between hunts.
But often times Dean would gather everyone in the living room area for a movie night while they ate dinner. Cas would usually make some kind of warm drink after they all ate, Dean always got to pick the movie (regardless of how many protests were shouted at him), Sam had taught Jack how to make popcorn and Jack used that skill whenever he got the chance, and Sam took the opportunity to just relax on the couch with them.
Often times Sam would fall asleep during the movie, and Dean would bitch about it afterwards as loudly as he could. Jack had recently taken up Sam's habit though. Every time they all sat down to watch something you'd turn around Jack was dozing off, usually leaning against someone's shoulder.
As cute as it was, Dean couldn't stand for Jack to miss the death star exploding.
Dean had been chosen that evening as Jack's human pillow, so it was easy enough to reach over and poke him several times in the side to try and rouse him.
Jack shifted over and ignored the pokes, snuffling into Dean's arm.
Dean repeated the action a few more times, until he noticed a small sleepy smile on Jack's face that he was trying to hide.
Dean hummed quietly but let the kid sleep, saving that information for later.
After the movie ended (and, yes, Jack did miss the exploding of the death star but it wasn't like this was his first time seeing A New Hope) they all stayed seated, relaxed in their spots making idle conversation.
Jack was now awake, listening to Sam and Cas' conversation about which star wars movie was the best. Dean turned his attention from the pair to look at Jack.
"I can't believe you-" Dean said, rapidly poking Jack's side causing the kid to curl up and swat and Dean's hand. "fell asleep during the best star wars movie and the best part of it."
"I didn't mean to!" Jack giggled, using one hand to protect his side the other to hold onto Dean's hand.
"Mhm, sure you didn't." Dean eyerolled, now launching a full on tickle attack on Jack.
Dean leaned over and dragged Jack into his lap, using one his hands to hold his outer arm above his head leaving his entire left side exposed. His free hand darted around Jack's torso, tickling as many places as he could. Jack attempted to grab Dean's hand but was too slow to catch him and couldn't predict correctly which spot Dean was going to go to next so he just resorted to holding onto Dean's forearm and trying to control his laughter.
"Do you know how to play guitar, Jack?" Dean asked while still tickling him.
"No!" Jack said through his giggles.
"Well, what we have here," Dean pat Jack's stomach. "is a good old fashioned guitar."
Jack's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his head tilting to the side.
"~Juuust gotta make sure it's in tune before I can play anything on it, of course." Dean grinned at him.
He held his right hand as if he had a guitar pic in his hand and pressed his fingers against Jack's ribs. He pretended to "play" the guitar, Jack's ribs being the strings.
He tested different ribs, listening to Jack's different laughs as he did so.
"Sounds tuned to me." Dean nodded. "That means we can play it now. "
Jack was about to make his protests known but Dean had already started, picking up and down Jack's whole side.
He threw in some light scribbles every now and then when he got up high on Jack's ribs, just to hear him squeal.
Jack promptly lost his mind, lost in his own mirth. He threw his head back against one of the couch pillows, cackles spilling out of him freely. His squirming intensified too, wiggling in every direction to get away from Dean's wiggling fingers.
He noticed that Sam and Cas had been watching for some time now, fond smiles on both of their faces. Dean noticed too and grinned at them.
"Do you guys like my guitar?" He raised an eyebrow. "Probably the nicest one I've ever played."
"Oh, I bet." Sam nodded. "I mean considering that you've never owned a guitar and nor do you know how to play, but if that one can give you the skills to play like that then that's one nice guitar."
Dean chuckled. "Wanna hear how it plays?"
"Dean, nohohOHO!!" Jack shrieked, arching his back. Dean alternated spots, going from right next to Jack's armpit to down low next to his hip. Jack's giggles jumped in both pitch and volume several times.
"I like this note." Dean teased. He scratched on Jack's highest rib, his laughter jumping up to a near screech. He squirmed violently twords the ground, almost falling out of Dean's arms before he was pulled back into Dean's lap.
"My guitar likes to wiggle apparently," Dean laughed, going back to the same spot that he was tickling before. Jack squealed again, giving up on trying to escape and just taking the tingly sensations overtaking his entire being. It was as if he could feel the tickles through his whole body, from his ears, to his neck, all the way down his torso and legs, electric tingles shooting down his knees, to his constantly moving feet which were currently kicking the couch in an effort to help give himself some relief from the sensations that were surging throughout his body.
After a few minutes when Jack had properly melted in Dean's lap from exhaustion, Dean finally stopped, releasing Jack's arm and letting him roll over onto his stomach. Dean rubbed up and down his back grinning down at the kid, though he couldn't see.
"You okay, Jack?" Sam asked after a few minutes.
"Y-yeah," Jack answered.
Dean rubbed a soothing hand through his hair, letting him fully relax.
"Hey, if you ever need any help getting Dean back, I'll gladly help you out Jack." Sam said. "He's ridiculously ticklish just like you." He smirked.
"Shut up." Dean glared at him. "You're just as bad."
"Statistically, Sam is less sensative than you are, but you and Jack seem equal in ticklishness." Cas held back a smile.
"You shut up too." Dean pointed at Cas. Sam laughed at them both.
Once again, Jack felt himself falling asleep but this time to the sounds of his family getting into a silly argument rather than the sounds of blaster fire and exciting background music.
Hope you liked
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regularme12 · 4 months
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Supernatural Tickle fic
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Summary: Dean, from all these years not seeing his little brother, forgot he was hella ticklish, until one faithful night...
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"Oh my god, Why did I ever think hunting that clown, would be a good thing...?"
Sam and Dean both got back from a fearful hunt, on Sam's part. The little brother found this mystery in a news article, and he acted on it bc he thought that's what their dad would've wanted them to do. After Dean realized what the hunt was about, he made it his mission to tease his brother till they got to the carnival, and hell, even during the investigation he still did it. They got back to their motel, and Sam fell straight on the bed in a Patrick Star pose, with his arms stretched out beside his head, and his legs fell off the bed. Dean, being a good older brother, went to go join him, not to comfort him, to tease him more.
"Wow, Sam. That clown really got to you huh?" Dean laughed, while he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Shove it, Dean." Sam threw a pillow at his face, in which his older brother caught it with ease, laughing even more. "Wow, I'm glad you find this soooo funny, smartass." Sam on the other hand didn't.
"Awww, come on, Sammy, You need to laugh more in your life, you're so tense all the time."
"It's Sam, I'm not a little kid no more. And quit teasing me about my stupid phobia, at least I'm not scared to fly." Sam smirked.
"Hey!" Dean got a little defensive over that, "You can die in a plane crash!"
"And apparently clowns kill, who looks stupid now."
There was a moment of silence until the older brother threw a pillow at his younger brother, surprising him in the midst. "Still you, haha"
"Ack! Dean! Quit your shit."
"Oh noo... Sam... BEHIND YOU!!"
Sam got scared and jumped up looking behind him, "WHAT?!"
"IT'S A CLOWN AND IT CAME TO KILL YOU!! OOGA BOOGA!!!" Dean took this chance and skittered his fingers on the latter's sides.
"Ahhh!! Dehehehean!! Stohohohop!!" Sam fell back squeezing his arms to his sides, kicking and squirming around.
"Wow, Sammy, after two years of not seeing you, you are still so ticklish since u were a kid. You know by now u oughta grow out of that." Dean towered over him pinning his arms down under his knees.
"Stohohohop!!! Dean! Please! You knohohow how muhuhuhuch I hate ihihit when you tihihihickle me!!!"
"I don't think I remember correctly, my mind's all foggy, I mean, after you left me and dad alone so you can go to college. I kinda missed pinning you down like this and tickling the shit out of you." Dean went and tazed both his sides, going up to his neck to tickle there, and moved back down to his sides whenever Sam decided to scrunch up his neck.
"Nahhhhaha, Dean!! Quhuhuhuitttt your shihihit, right fuuhuhucking now! I leheheft for two years! Nohohohot a dehehehcade, dumbass!"
"Wowwww, you're in this situation, and you still made it your mission to be a total smart ass? I think bad boys like you should be punished~." Dean jumped up on to his brother's chest, cuffing his legs around his arms to still immobolize him.
"Ugh, Dean, get your ass out of my fa-AHAHAHACE! NOOO AHAHAHAH STOHOHOP I HAHAHATE THAT I HAHAHAHATE THIS!!!" Dean went to knead at his hip bones, rubbing his thumbs in circles inside the hollow area.
"Oh, that's one thing I can remember. You're insanley ticklish on your hips, but it's not your worst spot. Do you want to help me jog my memory and remind me where it was again?"
"GOHOHO TO HELL!!"
"You do know, if u tell me now, I'll stop this whole ordeal and you can go away scott free, but if u don't... I may not stop for another good hour, Sammy."
"Fuck! Ok, whahahit!!"
"I'm not waiting.." Dean slowly started from his hip bone, and dragged his finger up to his worst spot, "Tell me now... or..."
"DAMN!! Dehehehan please, dohohon't."
"1..." He got closer.
"Dean!"
"2.." He got even closer~
"Wait, Dean! Please!"
"3..." Oh, he was right under it, wriggling his finger.
"FUCK!! DEAN!! STOP!!"
"Wow, you must really like saying my name. Wish it was yours, huh? Well, guess I'll just have to find out myself, bc you're not budging!" Dean started descending down with his finger. Until his lee yelled.
"OK!! FUCKING OK!!! It's my navel you basted!! IT'S MY FUCKING NAVEL, NOW STOP!!"
"Ohhh, you mean this part is your worst spot?" Dean started lightly scratching inside of his belly button.
"AH! DEAN! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T!" Sam kicked his knee so far up as a reflex and kicked his older brother square in the eye.
"OW! FUCK!" Dean, got off him falling to the side on the bed, holding his eye.
"Oh my god! Dean! Are you alright?! Here, I'll go get ice!!" Sam hurriedly got off the bed, and scarmbled to the freezer to get an ice pack, but all he could find was peas, so he used that instead.
"I'm fine, Sam. It's my fault. I should've stopped when you wanted me to. But you use to love tickling, you would beg dad and me to tickle you all the time , haha."
"Dean. I was 5, I'm 22 now, so I don't like that shit no more. I didn't know what was going on at the time, I used to love it, yh, but as I grew older, I hate the feeling now, that's all."
"Woah, all this sentalmental talk, you're not gonna expect me to hug you now, right?"
"No, Dean."
"Alright good."
There was more awkward silence, until Dean started chuckling.
"What's so funny now?!" Sam looked over with annoyance in his eyes
"I remember when I used to pin you down, and Dad started tickling your belly button, and you kicked him so hard in the back he had to go to the hospital and get physical therapy, couldn't walk for at least a good three days, give or take. And you were 13, so imagine how my eye feels right now!! Hahaha."
Sam started remembering that time, and chuckled too by how stupid it was, "Haha, shut up!" He punched his older brother's arm. "And don't forget you're ticklish too, if not, worse."
Dean got chills through his body by looking at Sam's evil smirk, inching towards him. The soon to be lee quickly got off the bed in a state of protests, "Wait, Sam, listen, ok?! I tickled you bc u were tense, I had to lay off some steam, you're finna tickle me for the hell of it, that's so unfair! You wouldn't do something like that to someone who's injured, right? Look at my eye! I may go blind now!"
"Just think of it as some revenge," Sam started chasing Dean around their small ass motel.
"NO SAM!! STOP PLEASE!!!" He put up a good race around the bed with a pea pack on his eye for a good 5 minutes. Sam could've easily tickled him sooner, but he loves the chase. He leaped across the bed, and pinned him down, and started tickling him.
Well, guess they both got what they wanted, right?
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ashestkstuff · 8 months
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It started with a bite of his burger, and it caught Dean's eye. He can see Jack taking as just of a big bite out of his burger as Dean did. The elder Winchester just batted an eye as he took a sip of his beer, Jack taking a sip of his own water at the same time, before they both set it down at the same time. Something in him, it reminded Dean of Sammy. How when Sam was younger, he'd always copy Dean until he wrecked the younger Winchester.
To test this, Dean grabbed his beer again, leaning back in the chair. He glanced over at Jack, seeing the young nephilim doing the exact same thing. “Stop.” He said sternly, looking right over at Jack. The nephilim stared at Dean, before taking a huge sip of water just as Dean took a huge sip of beer. “Okay that's it-” Dean grinned and tackled Jack after their drinks were placed down, again, at the same time. Jack squeaked as he was pinned down, looking up at the elder Winchester with wide eyes.
“Y’know how I dealt with Sammy when he pulled this shit?” Dean asked with a shit-eating grin. A bit confused and startled, the nephilim shook his head. “No.” He replied. “What did you do?” He asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “This.” Dean replied before tickling his sides. Jack immediately erupted into laughter, trying to push his hands away from his sides. “Dehean- ihit tihickles!” Jack giggled out. Dean couldn't help but smile at that, chuckling softly to himself. “If you're laughing this much over just the sides, I'd love to see how you laugh when I get your worst spots.” He teased before digging under his arms. Jack squealed and threw his head back in loud laughter. “DEHEAN NOHOT THEHERE PLEHEASE!” Jack laughed loudly with a snort. Dean started laughing himself at that. “No way! Did you just snort? Man, I gotta tell Sam and Cas when they get back!” He chuckled. “Didn’t know you and Sam had the same weak spot.” He grinned mischievously before letting up a few minutes later.
Jack grinned and caught his breath, panting softly when Dean finally let up. “That was fun.” The nephilim smiled a little, causing Dean to grin. “Just like Sammy, he used to love when I played tickle monster with him when he was little.” He informed, taking a sip of his beer as he sat back down on the motel couch. “He did?” The nephilim asked with a small smile. “He sure did. Maybe I can teach you a few pointers to tickle Sammy.” Dean chuckled as his attention turned towards Scooby Doo, which was playing on the TV. Jack smiled as he recovered from the tickle attack, his attention turning towards the TV too, as he leaned his head against Dean's shoulder. Maybe he did belong with them.
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burningablaze · 1 year
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So I thought I would do something different than just write MHA fics all the time. I wrote a Supernatural fic a couple of weeks ago because I started watching the show and it’s so damn good! I’m halfway through season 2 and still going. Anyways I wonder what you guys will think of it and I added my own Supernatural oc as well because I got bored
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carrie-tate · 3 months
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For the last week I have been working on one fairly large-scale project, which is spontaneous, a little grateful and generally full of bright feelings.
And so! I'm proud to present to you a little comic based on @nhasablogg's fanfiction that I really enjoyed. So in the end I decided to transfer these feelings into creativity
You better read this fanfic, because it is very sweet and sensual, and my scribbles only convey half of what is written there
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coy-lee · 1 year
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I... Have been intimidated by the prospect of creating such a piece for YEARS... But the time has come.
So, I made what I always wanted most come true X3.
This has been years coming so I'm honestly a bit anxious.
ANYWAY YEET!
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cringemesstickles · 4 months
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Cat And Mouse
Summary: This is basically just the scene from s10e03 except it’s normal and Dean is just Dean and also isn’t trying to kill Sam-
Pairing: None
Word Count: 1,010
A/N: *Posts this and runs*
Literally this is all I could think about during this scene. :’)
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“Cmon sammy, don’t you wanna hang out with your big brother?” Dean called out, stalking the bunkers halls in search for his little brother.
Sam heard his brother’s taunts, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t too far.
This little cat and mouse game had gone on for about a minute; Dean calling out taunts and teases while Sam tried to get himself as far away as possible from his playful older brother.
The goal was to get to Dean’s room, as It’d be too obvious to hide in his own; and besides, it was only a few corners away.
“Sammy? You’re just making this worse for yourself man.”
Sam pressed himself against the wall when he heard his brother’s voice from around the corner.
He was so screwed.
He peered over the right hand corridor, Dean’s room was right there! If he was stealthy enough, he may be able to slip under Deans radar.
Just as he was about to make a break for it…
“GOTCHA!” Dean grabbed his younger brother and flung him over his shoulder, carrying him to his bedroom.
How Dean was able to carry him, Sam had no clue.
Dean wasn’t weak by any means, but Sam was 6'4 for crying out loud!
Whatever!
There’s no time to dwell on it! right now, he had to find a way to escape.
When they reached the room, Dean dumped his brother onto his bed and quickly climbed on top of him, making sure he was pinned.
“Well little brother, it seems I’ve caught you…” He said through an evil grin,
“You know what happens next, don’t you Sammy?” raising his hands, he wiggled his fingers above Sam’s stomach.
“Dean w-wait, can’t we talk about thihihis?” A nervous giggle slipped past his lips as he started pleading with his big brother.
The sight of his brother’s wiggling fingers tore down his crumbling resolve, reducing him to a giggly mess.
“Sorry Sammy, I caught you fair and square… take your punishment like a man!”
With that, he vibrated his claws into the center of Sam’s belly, making the younger scream with laughter.
“NOHOHO DEHEHEAN, WAHAIT!!”
Dean grinned cheekily.
“I’m already tickling you, there’s nothing to wait for!”
Sam gripped the soft sheets, head thrown back in mirth, laughing harder than he has in a long while.
Dean’s hands drifted to Sam’s sides, kneading the sensitive flesh while an evil grin made its way to his face.
“Ohhh, I get it… you just can’t wait for me to raspberry that cute belly of yours!”
He said, letting a finger trail back to his brother’s stomach and lightly tracing.
Just at the mention of raspberries, Sam’s eyes widened, shooting his hands down to protect his tummy from the inevitable attack.
“Nonono! Dean, please dohohohont!!”
He was squirming side to side, trying anything to throw his brother off.
“Why not? Too ticklish? Surely you can handle a couple measly raspberries.. unless you really are that ticklish?” The older brother tapped against the younger’s side thoughtfully, smile glued to his own face at the image of his little brother so happy and carefree.
Sam’s face reddened, the teasing easily getting under his skin.
“Shut uhuhuhup!!!” His hands moved from protecting his stomach to covering his face in embarrassment.
“Hey!” Dean poked his brother’s belly button, eliciting a squeak.
“Don’t tell your big brother to shut up!”
As if to punish his little brother for his actions, he dove his head down and blew raspberry after raspberry on the ticklish tummy.
“NOOO DEHEHEAN, I’M SORREEHEHEHE!!” The taller squealed, bucking his hips and shoving at his brothers head.
Sam could feel the older’s smile against his skin; he didn’t know what got Dean in such a playful mood but he had to admit, he was having a lot of fun. It felt nice to let go and laugh, and it felt nice for Dean to hear his brother laugh for real.
It’s not that Sam’s laughter was never genuine, it’s just that it was never really full on laughter, only light chuckles mostly at Dean’s expense.
This laughter on the other hand, loud, boisterous, happy, this was the laughter that Dean had missed so much.
He lifted his head to give his brother a break, lightly tracing along his sides.
“Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Sam. Telling your big brother to shut up is a horrible offense!”
Sam just giggled.
“You tehehell me to shut up ahahall the tihihime!”
Dean shrugged.
“Well, I’m the big brother. I’m allowed.” He grinned at the eye roll he received.
“You’re sohoho annoying.” Sam grumbled, his attempt at a frown looking more like a pout.
“Aww, there’s no need to pout, Sammy. Luckily, I know just how to fix it!”
He caught both of his brothers wrists and pinned them to either side of him, diving down again, this time nuzzling against Sam’s belly, rough stubble rubbing against soft skin and making it all the more ticklish.
The younger hunter snorted, throwing his head back and screaming with bright happy laughter.
“DEHEHE!! N-NOT THAHAHAT!”
Sam was practically screeching, squirming as best he could.
The older brother laughed against the shaking tummy, finding the reactions both funny and cute.
“Why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
“IHIHIT TICKLES!!”
Dean laughed.
“Well that’s all the reason to continue!”
Tears of mirth were starting to form in Sam’s eyes and his cheeks were getting sore from smiling so much.
Dean could tell it was about time to let up, he gave his brother one last raspberry before rolling off of him.
Sam curled into ball with his arms wrapped around his stomach, leftover giggles falling from his lips.
The older hunter grinned and pat the younger on the shoulder.
“You alright there, little brother?”
Sam nodded, a smile still stuck to his face as he tried to get his giggles under control.
“I hahahate you.”
Dean chuckled at that.
“No you don’t.”
Sam’s laughter subsided a bit but his smile still remained
No I don’t…
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supermarvel-fics · 2 years
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Tickletober Day 8: Death Spot
fandom: supernatural
word count: 1,450
pairing: dean x reader (pre-romantic)
summary: during a game of truth or dare, dean and the others learn something interesting
A/N: reminder that I will be posting two drabbles for day 8! I had gotten two character requests and couldn't choose, so I did both.
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How you got grouped in with these immature idiots to play a game of truth or dare like you were at a slumber party—you’d never know.
You’d vehemently declined the offer the first time it was brought up. Charlie had asked you the second time and even tried guilt tripping you with your favorite ice cream afterwards to ‘sweet talk’ you into it, as she put it. You smiled, but still said no. You were just too busy.
Then, Sam and Cas got in on it by trying to trick you into thinking it was a group research session to try and find new cases. That obviously didn’t work and you left the room before the first Truth question could even be asked.
The group left the idea of it alone for a week or two after that, but you knew sooner or later, they’d come on their hands and knees begging you to join their stupid little game.
You just hadn’t known it would be Dean this time, striding into the kitchen where you were drinking a beer and scrolling through possible cases. He caught your eye before he spoke—he always did. It took a lot of effort to pull your attention away from something you were fixated on, but not for Dean. Never for Dean. All he had to do was enter a room or say something in that deep, bellowing voice and you were all ears.
“What is it, Dean?” You ask, trying to sound at least mildly annoyed. You sipped on your beer without making eye contact as you heard his boots clobber closer to you.
“Look, we’ve all been in a rut these past couple weeks and the group just thinks it would help if we did some dumb bonding activity together,” Dean answered in that tone of his – the one where he tried sounding put off by whatever he was talking about, but was actually very interested. It amused you how alike you two were in that sense.
“Mhm, so the truth or dare thing?” You finally swiveled to face him this time, one eyebrow raised higher than the other. Dean nodded.
“Yeah, everyone thinks it will be fun or whatever.”
You saw right past this little act of his, grinning slightly as you stared at him. “Are you really trying to act as if this wasn’t your idea in the first place? Asking Charlie, Sam, AND Cas to bribe me into playing and when I said no, you had to man up and ask me yourself?”
Dean seemed visibly embarrassed by that point. He couldn’t look you in the eyes and his hand started rubbing the back of his neck, causing you to grin wider at his demise.
“Well, when you put it like that…” Dean began saying, but you cut him off.
“I’ll play.”
His body language brightened up at your agreement, and he glanced up at you to find that you were already out of your seat to join him and the others in the living room. “Really?”
You chuckled a bit and rolled your eyes. “Yes, stupid. I’ll play since you losers have been begging me for weeks.” You pushed on his shoulder and strutted past him, smirking when he started following directly behind you. You swayed your hips a bit more than usual, praying to whatever God was out there that Dean was looking right where you wanted him to.
You and Dean met the others already seated at a table with a two bowls in the center of it filled to their respective brims with slips of paper.
“Ooh! I told you he’d be able to convince her!” Charlie boasted. “You two owe me $20.” She pointed at Sam and Castiel, who looked just as surprised as you did.
“Seriously? You bet on me?” You asked incredulously, snickering. You watched as the two of them slipped Charlie a $20 and she pocketed it quickly.
“I knew Dean would be the one to get you to join. You do almost anything he asks,” She stated bluntly. Your cheeks burned red at her comment as you snapped your head towards her.
“Charlie!” You hissed through a whisper. She shrugged and smugly grinned, scooting her chair over to make more room for you. You sat down in a hurry, hoping that Dean wouldn’t think too much of the comment.
The group began the game after Charlie explained the rules to Cas who had obviously never played and thus began learning about some truly embarrassing secrets and watching a few vulgar things.
“Alright, Y/N. Truth or Dare?” Charlie turned to you, looking expectantly. You’d chosen dare the past couple of times and had been promptly laughed at for prank calling a pizza place and doing a handstand against a wall for a minute, so you decided to take a breather this round.
“Truth,” You declared. You watched as the redhead swirled her hand through the truth bowl to mix the papers around before pulling one out and reading it.
“What is your most ticklish spot?”
Without realizing it, your eyes widened and your breathing quickened, palms suddenly sweaty. “Uh… I plead the fifth.”
“No way!” Sam spoke up. “If I had to answer a question about my worst sexual experience, then you have to answer this!”
“It is only fair,” Cas added with his grumbly voice. You whimpered slightly as you toyed with your options, knowing this could only end terribly for you.
“I’ll literally answer anything else,” You pleaded with the group, but their stern faces told you that they expected you to answer.
“If you don’t answer, I’ll be forced to figure it out myself, and I’m sure that’s the last thing you’d want, sweetheart,” Dean bellowed teasingly. If your face wasn’t fire engine red, then it definitely was now.
“Whahat?” You were taken aback, coiling into yourself as much as you could with an unwilling smile tugging at your lips. From what you could see, the majority of the table had permanent smirks plastered on their faces, and you felt the need to escape. “That’s soho not fair!”
“Then you should probably answer,” Sam said. You whined, your head falling into your hands. You felt backed into a corner and you knew you had to tell them just to get them off your back about it.
But you fell silent a little too long because Dean’s chair slid back and he rounded the table to stand behind you. “Wait! Noho, no Dean, don’t!” Your protest did nothing, because in seconds flat, his hands were on your ribs and all it took was one squeeze to shout out the answer. “NOHO! FEET! IT’S MY FEET! PLEHEASE, DON’T!”
Instead of tickling you, Dean wrapped his strong arms around you to lift you out of the chair, and once you figured out his intentions, you began fighting hard for release.
“DEAN! NO! THIS WAS NOHOT PART OF THE AGREEMENT!”
“Anyone want to lend me a hand here? We’ve got a squirmer!” Dean ignored you, calling out to the group. Of course, Charlie was the first to stand and you truly got nervous when Sam joined in too. Cas stayed seated, but mostly only because he’d rather watch this scene play out.
Dean deposited you on the ground of the bunker and Charlie was instantly on your legs, sitting on them so you couldn’t pull them away. Sam grabbed ahold of your wrists so you wouldn’t be able to hit anyone with your flailing limbs.
“Dean! I’m actually begging you! It’s so bad, I can’t take it!” You yelled at him as he slipped off your slippers, exposing your socked feet. He experimentally ran one finger up your sole and you jerked violently, almost sending Charlie flying. “AHAH! DEAN!”
“Ooh, this will be fun. Just a few seconds, I’m sure you’ll be okay,” He replied, wasting no time is flitting his fingers across your feet. You knew your feet were your most ticklish spot, but you’d forgotten just how bad it was—only made worse by not being able to move.
“SHIHIHIT! I-HI HAHAHATE YOU AHALL! N-NOHOHO!” You screeched in ticklish agony as Dean tried different methods along the bottoms of your feet. He found that scratching harshly at the balls of them made you jump and twitch, but fluttering softly right above your heel made you go limp. “CAHAN’T BREATHE! DEHEHEAN! STOHOP!”
He halted at your request, Sam and Charlie moving away from you as well. You kept giggling even after he’d stopped, but attempted to stare at him menacingly. “I’m never playing these silly games ever again.”
Though, you knew it was a lie. Like Charlie had alluded to earlier—you’d do anything he asked.
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potatohater · 8 days
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I swear to fucking god if I’m gonna read a NORMAL-FLUFFY WINCHESTER BOYS FANFIC AND RANDOMLY SEE #wincest 🎀🎀 IN THE COMMENTS IM HANGING MYSELF—
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soft--dragon · 7 months
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Witches Curse
Words: 4,494
Warnings: None
This can be seen either romantically or platonically, I don't mind ^^
This was inspired by this incredible art and this idea by @carrie-tate . Check out her blog!! He makes amazing stuff :D <3
This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)
Witches sucked, Castiel decides, glaring over his shoulder and rolling the tense muscles out the best he can. The ache persists much to his annoyance. He sighs bitterly. Witches sucked so much. 
Dean, Sam, and Cas had been hunting something that had been running rampant. Cures and curses had been popping up around Missouri for the last few weeks - all indicating a witch on a spell spree. It seemed pretty cut and dry, and Dean had proudly bolstered they'd be back in time for beers and a good slice of pie. 
But because their luck could never be that good, the hunt went sideways fast. 
They'd snuck into the house easily, and found the altar room where the witch was preparing a new enchantment. Slowly, the trio split up and crept around to circle him. Sam had the shot lined up perfectly, a finger easing on the trigger when Dean had accidentally knocked down a shaky stack of mismatched crockery from his hiding place - inadvertently causing Sam to misfire from the crash and strike the drywall. 
Turns out, people don't take kindly to being shot at. 
The witch lashed out instantly, a frightened yell wrenching from him as he blasted the first spell to mind at his intruders. The flashes of light and echoing shots of guns were overwhelming. 
Cas, armed with only his angelic grace, slipped around the firefight to hopefully catch the witch in a blind spot and end this. Unfortunately, one of Sam's bullets ricocheted off the concrete wall and only just missed Cas's cheek. The close call made him gasp in alarm, giving away the element of surprise. 
In a split second, the witch whirled around and rambled off a fast spell, causing pain to streak through Cas's shoulder blades. He yelled out, stumbling away from the witch and grabbing at his spine when the feeling spread and something shifted under his skin. It hurt. 
A sharp bang burst through the room, something wet hitting the floor and quickly followed by the heavy thudding of dead weight. Dean's gun was still smoking from the fresh bullet, raised to where the witch had just been standing, but he practically threw it to the ground in his rush to get to his friend's side. 
"Cas! Cas, you alright? Talk to me!" He demanded, hands splayed out towards Castiel as the angel writhed on the spot, still desperately clawing at his spine. 
"H-Hurts-" Cas choked out, suddenly wrenching at the sleeves of his coat to shed it from his burning skin. 
In an instant, Dean was helping him yank off the heavy material, startling at the sight of Cas's skin moving under his white dress shirt. "Cas, what the fu-" 
"Guys, what's happening?" Sam demanded worriedly from where he was crouched by the witch, checking for a pulse. 
"That son a bitch did something to Cas!" Dean growled, panic in his face as the angel suddenly gasped and twisted in place. "Cas-" 
A sharp tearing sound burst through the room and all Dean saw was a mass of darkness before he was thrown back into Sam. The Winchester brothers fell in a heap on the cold floor, the older man slightly winded from the sudden impact. 
"Augh, get off of me, Dean."
"Give me… a sec, man. Jesus." 
Dean coughed for air only to yelp when his younger brother hefted himself up on his forearms - making the older hunter roll off of Sam's lower back and land facedown on the concrete with a grunt. 
Sam looked from Dean, to Cas and froze. His lips parted in bewildered shock, eyebrows practically in his hairline as he registered what he was seeing. "...Dean."
Dean, hearing the awe in his little brother’s voice, lifted himself from the floor to look at the end of the altar room. He froze too. 
"Cas?" He asked cautiously.  
Castiel, angel of the lord, was standing at the edge of the room with a pair of hulking, black wings stretched out on either side of his body. 
So yeah, witches sucked. 
Cas was staring at the feathered appendages with round, blue eyes. Then, after a moment of silence, he muttered a gruff, "Fuck." 
The trio of misfits had left Missouri quickly after the curse had been placed on Castiel. Unfortunately, due to how misplaced they felt on a human vessel, Cas didn't trust himself to fly back to the Bunker. Cas' wings protested the cramped space the entire time he was stuck in the backseat of the Impala, which only added to his agitated state. Sam and Dean tried to get him to open up and let them help, but he sent them a sharp look at every attempt and continued brooding.
As soon as the Impala parked, Cas shoved himself out of the car and stomped up to the woods, ignoring the humans' calls behind him. While he trusted Sam and Dean - hell they were his closest friends - having his wings exposed was a level of vulnerability he never knew existed. He couldn't handle their eyes on his angelic appendages for another minute.
Hours later, Cas is fully settled into bitterness. No matter what he does, he can't get comfortable with how weighty and awkward the wings feel in a human vessel. With his grace, the impressive appendages are cloaked safely, tucked away from any misgivings in the human world. The overexposure is downright uncomfortable now - the dirt scratching on his primaries and the wind upsetting the pristine layout of feathers. Cas hates this. 
Soft footsteps make the angel turn sharply, his years as a soldier instinctively preparing to yank out his blade and stab whatever was going to make his life worse. 
Dean quickly holds up his hands in alarm, taking a stumbling step backward and almost tripping over a tree root. "Woah there, buddy," he placates with a nervous smile, eyeing the sharp blade. "Let's not go all 'Michael Myres' here, okay?"
Cas glares, but he already feels his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. With a sigh, Cas re-sheathes the blade and sits back on the forest floor, wings hiking up around himself to hide from Dean. 
"What do you want, Dean?" He asks in a choleric tone, not wanting to be disturbed from his self-resenting, but safe position. 
Dean didn't shift from his spot, hands slowly lowering to sit in his jacket pockets as he worriedly stared at Cas. "Sam and I have been looking into the lore," he says, hoping to draw the angel's interest. "We're tracking down a way to reverse this."
Cas doesn't answer. 
Dean, never one to enjoy the silence, clears his throat and tries again. "You've been up here for hours, Cas, I just wanted to come check on you. You haven't exactly been very talkative since you got hexed." 
"I wonder why." Cas snips, hunching deeper into himself. "It's not like a witch cursed me to expose the essence of my angelic side." 
Dean makes a small noise of regret. "Right- uh… sorry." 
At the subdued tone, Cas closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. When he opens them again, he tries to sound more neutral. "It's not your fault, Dean. Thank you for looking for a cure." 
The sound of crunching twigs lifts Castiel's head, turning to see Dean slowly approaching. His eyes are glued to the trees ahead, avoiding looking at the wings that are shifting uneasily. The lack of staring is honestly a relief to Castiel, and he appreciates the gesture. 
When Dean is standing by Cas - far enough to give space but close enough to hear each other easily - he flicks his gaze to the bright blue eyes that are watching him carefully. "Any room on this hill for one more?" 
Cas regards the hunter for a moment, then sighs and nods, waving a hand as Sam taught him to show he didn't mind. Dean sinks to the ground, grunting in mild discomfort as his knees protest the action. He really was getting too old for this hunting business, he wasn’t sure how many years left his knees had with this work. 
Once seated comfortably, Dean clasps his hands over his bent knees and releases a breath, inhaling slowly to enjoy the crisp air. He doesn't get much of a chance to enjoy the Bunker’s surrounding woods. 
“Can I ask something?” He inquires.
Cas nods in his peripheral vision, still tucked into himself glumly. 
“What do they feel like? In this body, I mean.”
Cas lets out a deep sigh and rolls his shoulders, the ache persisting and prickling at his neck. “It sucks.”
Dean couldn’t stop the small laugh that left him at the bone-dry, deadpan answer. He quickly schooled his expression, turning to apologize, but there was a small smile on Cas’s face. The angel glanced at him.
“Humans weren’t meant to encompass the full weight and strength of angel wings,” he says. “It's why we keep them tucked away when we use a human vessel. It protects the human from extra strain and protects us too.”
Dean cocks his head to the side. “Protects you?” He repeats. 
Cas gives a small, miserable wave to his angelic appendages. “Earth is beautiful,” he sighs. “But it is filled with things that can damage our wings. It’s safer for everyone if we keep them hidden.”
Dean glances at the glossy, ebony feathers standing tall over him. With a small hum, he smiles at Cas. “Well, despite the situation, I’m glad I finally get to see them. They’re really cool.” 
Castiel glances at Dean in confusion. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I mean, most angels are depicted to have white wings, but having black ones? So fucking badass, man. If I was an angel, I’d be envious of em.” 
Cas stares with wide eyes and a tilted head. After a moment, he shakes his head with a fond smile. “You never cease to confound me, Dean.” 
Dean scoffs in bemusement. “Thanks?”
“You're welcome.”
The pair settle into a comfortable silence. Cas’s wings had come to rest on the ground, the puffed-up feathers smoothing down for the first time in hours. Cas too, had slumped into a more relaxed posture, his half-lidded eyes taking in the countryside. Dean, who was leaning back on his hands, snuck glances at the impressive wings every so often, captivated by their beauty and obvious strength. Dean did not doubt that Cas could easily smack him like a baseball with one of those bad boys. Yet, he felt no fear near the strong appendages. Instead, he got a weird, intense urge to ask one thing. 
“Can I…?”
Cas turns to watch as Dean struggles to put his request into words, his mouth ticking up slightly in amusement as the human looks almost constipated. “Dean.” He says. 
The man meets his eyes instantly, his nerves written clearly in the pupils though his face doesn’t show it. It was how Cas learned to understand the Winchesters over the years, emotion was all in the eyes, not the face - it was a rather endearing trait for the boys. 
Wordlessly, Cas stretches out the wing closest to Dean, noticing the slight flinch in Dean’s posture as the appendage shows off its impressive size and build. One flap and Cas could send him tumbling down the hill, but he does no such thing. He holds it perfectly still and lets Dean register everything. Dean’s hands fidget on top of his knees, drawing Cas’s gaze to the shifting fingers. He smiles, despite his racing heart of exposing such a vulnerable thing to anyone who was not an angel. 
“You may touch them,” he reassures quietly.
Dean swings around almost comically to stare at him. “Really?” He flits his gaze to the wings again and then back to Castiel. “I thought you’d smite me if I tried to ask.” 
Cas gives a one-shouldered shrug and lets his smile soften towards the man. “I trust you,” he offers, his voice just as gentle as his expression. “Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone do so.”
Dean noticeably swallows, lips parted in bewilderment. But whatever he is going to say, it doesn't leave his lips. Instead, he closes his mouth and shifts to turn to the wall of feathers. A hand leaves his knees and slowly raises to the wing, fingers just grazing the outer plumage. He huffs in surprise, the silky surface sliding over his skin pleasantly. 
“Woah,” he mumbles, dragging his palm over the soft primaries. “Awesome.”
Cas has to fight back a shudder from the contact, though the slight tension in his brow catches Dean's attention. Immediately drawing back his hand in concern, he asks, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Castiel answers quickly, his wing already missing the warmth of Dean’s palm. “Like I said, it has been… a long time since anyone has touched my wings.”
“Oh. Do you want me to keep going?”
“That would be nice.”
Dean’s fingers return to the feathers, carefully raking through the thick primaries with a gentle and curious touch. With how Cas’s wing has stretched to practically wrap around and encompass Dean, he has easy access to the entire appendage. Cas hums appreciatively and rolls his shoulders, the ache in his back easing up finally. 
“Feel alright?” Dean double-checks. 
“It feels… quite relaxing, yes.” Cas folds his knees to his chest and drops his head onto his crossed arms. He watches lazily as Dean slowly explores the wing. He registers a slight pull on his coverts and chuckles a bit. “Just don’t tug any of the feathers out, Dean. It’s not molting season yet.”
“You guys molt?” Dean repeats in surprise, looking from the wing to Cas, eyebrows high as he searches the angel’s face for any sign of jest.
Cas nods. “Of course. It’s a yearly experience, we have to do it to have healthy wings.”
Dean scoffs, but it’s in disbelief, not malice. “Wow.” He mutters, returning his gaze to the feather-endowed appendages. “You guys really are like birds, huh?”
Cas rolls his eyes and lightly smacks Dean in the face with the wing, pushing down a grin when the man splutters and pushes away from the offending limb. He looks at Cas in annoyance.
“Sorry, sometimes I can’t control the movement,” Cas smiles innocently. “Instinctive flexing, it’s completely involuntary.” 
Dean scowls at him, but a smirk curls at his lip. “Dick,” he jabs light-heartedly. 
“Ass-butt,” Cas replies in kind, settling on his arms and grinning. 
Dean returns his focus to the wings before him and shifts his hand to rake through the feathers, smirking when he hears Cas hum again - it isn’t unlike petting a cat. The thought made Dean snicker, but Cas was too far gone in enjoyment to care. 
The steady combing through feathers settles Castiel’s tense spine and brow, letting himself enjoy the sensations wholeheartedly. The last time he’d had the joy of having his wings groomed was back when he was a servant of Heaven. The angels often help each other maintain their wings to perfection, making it a bonding activity of sorts. It was a pastime Cas didn’t think he’d ever have the honor of experiencing again. He smiles into his arms. Figures that he’d be able to relive it with the Winchesters. They always managed to find ways to make his life interesting in some way or another, whether it be a good surprise or not. This, however, was a surprise he liked. The prior, bitter resentment from the curse soothed into simple bliss. 
Dean’s fingers shift from combing through his primaries to his secondaries. The change makes Cas shift in place, the wing flexing a bit as the sensations sparked through the wing and down his spine. Dean paused at the reaction and glanced at the angel in surprise. 
He took in Castiel’s posture, once relaxed and easy, now weirdly tense. His eyes are still closed, but there’s a marginal scrunch that draws attention to them. His simple grin was replaced with a slightly wobbly smile. 
“Cas?” Dean asks worriedly, his eyes raking over the angel’s form in concern. “Are you good?”
“Y-Yes.” Cas’s answer was nowhere near as firm as his previous confirmation. If anything, Dean swore his voice sounded a touch higher pitched than normal. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?” Dean pressed. “I can stop if this is uncomfortable at all-”
Cas opens his eyes and Dean is surprised at the slight plead in his pupils. “Please don’t,” he almost begs. “I’ve missed this.” 
Lips parted in surprise, Dean digests those words. Cas looked… well shit, he looked like he was desperate for this. A weird pang cuts across Dean’s heart as a thought hits him. Is Cas touch starved? 
Getting himself together, Dean nods and sends the angel a reassuring smile. “Alright.” He concedes. “Just lemme know if anything is wrong, okay?”
Cas gives an answering nod, tucking himself back into his arms and stretching his wing out again. ‘Instinctive flexing’, Cas had mentioned before. Dean thought that Cas was joking, but maybe he actually was telling the truth. That would explain the sudden twitchiness, and after all, the angel had said he hadn’t had this kind of touch in a while. 
Questions satiated, Dean lifts his hand and combs one hand through secondary converts. Cas yelps, his wing ruffling and shoulders leaping to his ears as his whole body jolts. 
Dean wrenches his hand away in alarm and snaps towards the angel. “Cas-?” He demands, but then he registers Castiel, and all thoughts die in his head. 
Cas has his knuckles pressed to his lips as he snickers, light sounds that seem so unusual for the angel. The force of his grin is causing his eyes to squint. The sight leaves Dean speechless, feeling as if he’d been thrown into an ocean and left to tread the waters with no help. Then, once the shock subsides, the puzzle pieces click into place and it's as if a lightbulb gets turned on above his head.
“No.” He mutters, his anxiety replaced with a sudden building elation. His grin builds on his face, “No way.” 
Cas, who finally managed to settle the small titters leaving his lips, glances over at Dean with an endearingly confused face. “Uh, I don’t… I’m sorry, I'm not sure what that-”
Dean’s hand sweeps out to bury into the secondary coverts again, and Cas yelps for a second time, tumbling backward in his haste to evade the sudden tingling invading his senses. “Gah- De-Dehehean!” He chokes out through a series of tumbling chuckles, a hand lifting to his mouth again to muffle the noise. 
Dean laughs, loud and excited. “You have got to be kidding me!” He grins, his hands chasing the wings down to the ground and scratching into the fluffy feathers. “You’re ticklish?!” 
Cas wriggles from his spot on the grass, hiccups peppering between his startled laughter. “Dehehehean! Whahahat ahahare yohohou- AHAHAHA!” 
Cas’s own words are lost to his mirth, his body trying to curl into a ball while his wings stay splayed out - eager for attention while the host of said wings squirmed uncontrollably. Dean snickers from where he’s settled beside Cas’s wing, his other hand coming up to hold the top of the appendage while the other sneaks in to tickle the feathers. 
“Who would’ve thought, huh?” He grins, “Castiel has ticklish wings. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh this much, man.”
Cas’s arms don’t know what to do with themselves - the rapid electric tingles shooting through his body render him useless and flailing. He grabs onto his forearms and kicks uselessly at the grass, throwing his head back as laughter escapes his mouth. 
“Dehehehean!” He presses out, his eyes squeezed shut instinctively. 
“Yeah, Cas?”
“Whahahat ihihis thihihis?”  
Dean snorts, mostly in surprise. “You’ve never been tickled before?” 
Cas shakes his head rapidly, too caught up in his mirth to give a verbal reply. Dean, seeing that Cas is struggling for air, eases up on the sensitive coverts and settles back into tickling along the secondaries and primaries. 
“Basically, you’ve got sensitive wings,” Dean explains. “Being ticklish is pretty common for humans, it’s our nervous system that makes it possible. Sammy can give you the whole scientific spiel of it if you want. My version, though? Touching the body in a certain way makes someone laugh, it’s a way to mess with people and a way to bond. God knows I tickled Sam so much growing up. He still gets these nervous giggles when people wiggle their fingers at him.” 
Dean shakes his head fondly as he speaks and scratches along the bone of the wing. Cas suddenly bucks with a loud squeal, crashing back into the grass and giggling hysterically. Castiel was giggling. Dean’s grin widened at the sound though his eyes softened. It was rare when he got even a chuckle out of Cas, this was a whole dang gift basket in itself. 
“THIHIhihihis feheheels sohoho strahahange!” Cas manages to get out, his cheeks growing pink from his ongoing laughter, and the subconscious embarrassment of letting out such an unnatural sound for an angel. 
Dean wiggles two fingers into the bend of the wing with a look at his friend. “Good strange or bad strange?”
Cas squeaks in laughter, his hiccupping giggles coming back full force. “Ihihit feheheels nihihice? Buhuhut Ihihi cahahdn’t stohohop mohoving-” Dean’s fingers skim a particularly sensitive spot, causing Cas to roll onto his side, proving his own words.
Dean snickers. “Yeah, that’s normal. The usual reaction is to try and get away….” The rest of Castiel’s words clicked in Dean’s head. “Wait, are you saying you like this?” 
Cas rolls back over and looks up at Dean through his eyelashes. ‘Ihihis thahat wrohong?” He asks through tumbling giggles. 
Dean bites his tongue to stop his mouth from possibly making a fool of himself, but he can’t stop the endeared smile that spreads on his face. “Nah,” he reassures when he’s sure he’s got his emotions under lock again. He tweaks the sensitive spot on the bone just to hear Cas squeal again. “It’s not wrong, Cas.”
Questions answered, Cas lets his head fall back and simply laughs, his chest feeling lighter than it had in, well, ever. The tickling shifted from light skittering, to gentle scratching - Dean’s hand making its way across the sensitive areas. When he dropped to test the scapular of Cas’s wing, Castiel shrieked. 
The sudden jump of octaves made Dean jolt in surprise, but he burst out laughing not a moment later as he watched Cas squirm and laugh twice as hard as before. “Christ on a stick, Cas!” He chuckles warmly. “Gonna scare off all the birds round here.”
Cas twists on the grass and holds his arms tightly, though one of them does let go to swipe in Dean’s direction, nowhere near close, however. “DEHEHEHEAN!” 
Dean opens his mouth to answer when something soft brushes the exposed skin of his ankle from where his pant legs have risen. Turning to look down, Dean’s mouth slips open in shock. A little red flower, which was most definitely not there before, waves its petals in the light breeze. Dean glances around, and to his surprise, there’s a series of small flowers budding and growing around the pair of them, a mix of reds and pinks. Dean’s fingers have slowed to gentle tracing on Castiel’s scapulars, distracted by the small garden of flowers blooming. It’s a rather captivating sight, watching the flowers press through the grass to stand proudly in the sunlight, perfect and pristine to every petal.
Cas meanwhile, is being kept in a giggly form of purgatory of precise, tickling fingers. And as much as he’s enjoying the attention, he needs a break from that spot before he accidentally smites someone - namely Dean. 
“D-Dehehean!” he gasps out again, “P-Plehehease!” 
Snapped out of his stupor, Dean pauses in his wiggling motions, looking back to the angel who slumps into the flower-dotted grass with a giggly sigh of relief. The red flowers match his flushed face, leaning towards Cas from their angle of growth. Dean can’t help but stare. 
After giving his friend a chance to recover, Dean clears his throat. “Cas?” He asks quietly. 
A soft, warm hum leaves Castiel as he calms down, eyelashes fluttering open to look at Dean. “Mhm?” 
Dean glances at the grass. “Did you… did you make these?” 
The angel’s eyebrow lifts in confusion, turning his head to the side to where Dean is looking. “Oh.” He practically chirps in surprise. He sits up on his forearms, glancing around the field where flowers have sprouted. “Ah, yes, I think I did.” His wings rise carefully from the grass to reveal a series of little yellow flowers hidden underneath the feathers. 
Dean’s eyebrows lift to his hair as he takes in the whole field of color. “What are they? I didn’t know you could miracle flowers out of thin air.”
Cas carefully plucks one of the yellow ones off the grass and holds it up to his face to inspect. “I have not made them since I was a fledgling,” he mused, turning the stalk in his fingers idly. “They are buttercups.”
Dean watches as Cas is captivated by the small plant in his fingers. He leans forward slightly to look at it closer, cocking his head to the side curiously. “Why’d you decide to pull out the green thumb again?” 
Cas glances up and gives Dean a small, shy smile. “It was subconscious, I believe,” he murmured. “I haven’t felt this relaxed or happy in a long time. I suppose the flowers are a byproduct of my emotions, flowers do have meanings after all.”
Dean’s heart ached for the angel. He turned to look around again and admired the patches of petals. “Well, I think you made a fine batch of buttercups,” he commented. “Maybe you can grow a few different kinds of flowers around the Bunker. The lawn looks pretty sad, so some flowers would do it good.”
Cas’s face lit up like a damn Christmas tree. “Really?” he asked, “you would like that?”
Dean gives a one-shouldered shrug and lets his smile soften toward the angel. “I trust your florist talents,” he says. “Besides, I think Sam would like it too.”
Cas grins, wide and warm. “Thank you, Dean.”
“Yeah, of course, man. If it makes you happy then-”
“Not just for that,” Cas cuts him off, his smile slipping back into shyness. “About… before. While this whole 'tickling' thing is new to me, I haven’t laughed like that in a while, and the wing grooming was appreciated too. So, thank you for that. It meant a lot.”
Dean is left speechless for what feels like the sixth time that day. He takes in Castiel’s genuine smile and relaxed form, his blue eyes brighter than his angelic glow could hope to achieve. Dean finds himself grinning, soft and sincere. 
“Anytime Cas.”
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iamawolfstarsimp · 5 months
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Sup bitches im back
Now I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things with writing (and, I think this is my first supernatural fic I've made) so forgive me, I'm still a little rusty. lmk if you want more spn fics in the future and want you think of this fic.
So yeah enjoy
(this is set in like season 1-2)
Dean lost count of how many hours they'd been on the road for. Had to be at least nine. Maybe ten.
Sam was blankly staring out the window, half asleep, the same thing he'd been doing for the past half an hour.
Dean made the consecutive decision to pull into the nearest motel that was next to a gas station. Sam didn't make a fuss about it and just pulled their stuff out of the car while Dean checked in.
The two moved in silence as they got ready for bed, Sam particularly avoiding eye contact and talking.
Finally, Dean spoke up when Sam had sat down on his own bed and started staring at his bed sheets instead of reading some random book like he usually did.
"Alright, what's up?" Dean turned to face Sam as he spoke.
Sam paused. "What?"
"Come on," Dean tilted his head. "you're never this quiet."
"I just didn't have anything to say." Sam shrugged.
Dean narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything else yet. He watched Sam for a moment. He still felt bad about dragging Sam back into this life. Sam shouldn't have to live like this, have to sleep in shabby motels and eat cheap takeout as his meals. He should have been able to go to Stanford and get married and have two kids and a dog and never have to worry about getting stabbed or bitten or impaled by whatever creature they were hunting.
Sam sighed, snaping Dean out of his train of thought.
"I'm just not in a good mood is all." Sam answered.
"Oh," Dean nodded, then grinned. "Well you know how we fix bad moods, don't you?"
Sam went stiff and shook his head at Dean, already holding his hands out in front of his body to protect himself from any hands trying to poke or wiggle at him.
"Dean, no." Sam said, backing away from Dean.
"Oh, come on, Sammy." Dean gave him a toothy grin, advancing on Sam. "You don't wanna play with your big brother?"
Sam glanced at Dean and then at the bathroom door. If he was fast enough, he could run past Dean and lock himself in the bathroom and wait it out. But, his few seconds of hesitation was enough time for Dean to lunge at him and tackle him to the floor. Sam yelped, doing his best to crawl away from Dean while he was on top of him.
Sam snapped his mouth closed when he felt wiggling fingers digging into his sides. His hands grappled with Dean's hands, trying desperately to pull them away from his body.
Sam flipped himself around, onto his back so he was more able to prevent any oncoming attacks. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean and flipped their positions, holding down Dean's hands. He felt a surge of triumph rush through him before Dean promptly reversed their positions again.
The two wrestled like that for a while before Dean managed to shove a hand up Sam's shirt, wiggling his fingers against his ribs. Sam broke down in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, rolling away from Dean.
"Yes!" Dean shouted when he finally pinned Sam.
"Dean, stop!" Sam yelled through his laughter. "T-this is chihildish!"
"Aw, but it's working, see?" Dean used both his hands to dig into Sam's upper ribs, causing Sam to throw his head back and cackle. "Look at that big smile."
Sam pushed at Dean's hands and when he couldn't catch them he pushed against Dean's chest, but he could already feel the energy being sapped out of him from the tickling.
Dean's hands darted from spot to spot, quickly changing tactics with each spot he tickled. He leaned back and pinched Sam's knees abruptly, poking his fingers underneath his knees. Sam screeched, his legs flailing out away from Dean.
Dean chuckled at his reactions, slowing down so that Sam could somewhat catch his breath. He lightly scratched Sam's sides up and down to keep him giggling at a steady but slow pace.
"You're a friggin' jerk, you know that?" Sam grumbled.
"I love you too, bitch." Dean smiled affectionately.
"Remember when you used to have nightmares when you were younger?" Dean said after a pause, watching his hands as they rested on Sam's stomach.
"Yeah?" Sam answered. When he was younger he had had a scary encounter with a ghost in the motel they were staying in. Thankfully, their father had come crashing in to help the two of them, since the ghost had knocked Dean's gun out of his hands. For months after that he had nightmares about creatures coming in and hurting him and his family. When they got really bad, he confessed to Dean about them and would crawl into his bed sometimes at night for comfort. Dean never complained and never brought it up unless Sam did first.
"Do you remember how I'd scare them away if they got really bad?" Dean smirked.
Oh right, he remembered. If they got bad and Sam would crawl into Dean's bed but if he couldn't fall asleep Dean would help "scare" the nightmares away.
"Wait-" Sam said before Dean grinned, hiked his shirt up to his ribs, and quickly leaned down blowing a raspberry on his taut stomach.Dean's hands came to life again squeezed along his sides and hips.
Sam twisted and cackled, legs thumping on the floor behind Dean. His hands pushed desperately at Dean's head when he blew the second raspberry right below his belly button, the third one right next to it and then on the other side, the fifth being right on top of his naval.
Dean sat back up, grinning. He leaned forward and ruffled Sam's already messed up hair.
"Feeling better?" Dean asked after a bit.
"I heh-hate you." Sam mumbled, still giggly from Dean's tickly assault.
Dean smiled and got off of Sam and helped him up of the gross motel floor. Afterwards, Dean stayed up late watching random shows on the television bit Sam fell asleep rather quickly, his soft snores a nice background melody.
Sam wouldn't admit it to Dean but his tricks still worked on him, even though it had been years since Dean had last used them.
But Dean knew Sam too well to not know that they still worked. He wouldn't use them if he didn't think they worked.
Oop, got a little carried away lol anyway hope you liked
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ashestkstuff · 10 months
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— Sam is a lee leaning switch
— He's mainly a lee for Dean, Cas, and Gabe. Gabriel is absolutely ruthless with tickling him with his grace.
— it's so maddening too, cuz like Gabe wouldn't be touching him and his grace would tickle so badly and it just flusters him so much
— However Sam will get payback (and mostly lose) to the people who tickled him
— Gabriel wouldn't let Sam touch him, Cas would just tickle back, and Dean would find a vulnerability and tickle tf out of his little brother
— When he was younger tho- he'd walk up to Dean and low-key ask for him to tickle him and it was the cutest thing ever
— Dean still doesn't let Sam live that down
— When tickled in the right spot, Sam would laugh out “De!” and it absolutely melts Dean's heart
— Since Sam is bigger and taller now, he's easily a ler to his older brother. And Dean can't really do anything about it except laugh if pinned the right way. He would still try to fight back tho
— Sam's worst spot is easily his armpits, feet, and the backs of his knees
— He even snorts if tickled enough and Dean gets a kick out of it every time
— When Sam hallucinated Lucifer, he would also use sam's ticklishness against him
— He'd look pretty goofy too, as nothing was physically touching him since Lucifer was a hallucination.
— Sam also cackles if he's tickled on his ribs/sides
— He doesn't mind being tickled tho as long as he knows the person
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inkaddict1978 · 1 month
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June. June was supposed to be nice. It was supposed to be “take Baby for a long drive, windows down, with no destination in mind for once” nice. Instead it was cold, 40’s at best, and the pattering of drops on the windows didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. It was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. The 4 friends were lounging around in their cozy little living room, “Ramble On” playing softly from the speakers in the far corner.
Sam was in the recliner, scrolling on his laptop. Dean didn’t need to see the screen to know he was searching for their next case. Always the diligent one. Cas was on one end of the couch, nose deep in some new “book of the week” that he had become addicted to. The sight made Dean’s stomach flutter, something he was still trying to get used to. Eileen was on the loveseat, watching tv, surely some reality show that Dean would pretend not to be interested in, but secretly be sad when it ended. Dean was currently propped up in the corner of the couch, opposite Cas, with a magazine in hand, not really focusing on the print, mind distracted.
He was fidgeting, too. He knew it, but he hoped no one else had noticed. He wasn’t used to sitting still, at least not for long periods of time, and his hands itched to be doing something, other than holding the paper distraction. He kept shifting slightly, couch creaking with each move, and every so often one of the other’s eyes would roam over to him, their look questioning. It never lasted long, but Dean would duck his head back into the magazine every time, avoiding the stare. His heart was starting to race, and he willed himself to slow it down. He could do this, dammit. He could relax. He just needed to practice. He wasn’t used to the semi-retired, non-hunting lifestyle. So sue him. It would take some getting used to. He shifted again, trying to return his focus back to his reading, but apparently fate had other plans in store for him today.
“Dude what’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, voice laced slightly with irritation. You’re like a nervous ball of energy, and it’s been radiating throughout the room for the last hour. What gives, man?”
Damn it, Sam was always the intuitive one. Dean couldn’t get anything past him.
He tried to play it off with a scoff, schooling his features into a look that implied as though Sam’s comment was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. In reality, he wished Sam could read his mind, so Dean didn’t have to use his words to communicate his emotions. He’d never been very good at that. For the moment though, he wished Sam would just drop it and leave him alone.
“I know when something’s bothering you” Sam continued “so just tell us what’s going on.”
No such luck.
Truth was, Dean didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He’d slept well, eaten, and was currently nursing a beer. All his basic needs were met and he should have been grateful for the rest. But for some reason, even in a room full of others, he felt alone. His skin was cold, despite the warmth in the room, and he was itching for some sort of physical contact. Everyone seemed so far away, despite the close proximity of the furniture. What the hell was wrong with him? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to snap out of it. He wasn’t sharing with the class, especially something as emotionally confusing as this. Suffer in silence. That was his MO.
Apparently no one was willing to allow him that luxury today, because Cas, who had averted his attention away from his book to observe the brother’s exchange for the last several minutes, chose that moment to join the conversation.
“Dean, you do seem more restless than usual. What’s the matter with you?” Cas paused, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean pulled a face that clearly conveyed “leave me alone” without having to verbalize it. Either that, or he was trying to think of a lie. Cas must have thought the latter, because he followed up his previous question with “and don’t lie to me. You know it won’t end well.”
Dean schooled his features, giving Cas a challenging glare. Who did he think he was? Dean was an adult, he could lie if he wanted to. Besides, choosing to ignore the current line of questioning coming from his brother and boyfriend wasn’t lying, it was just avoiding, and that Dean was a pro at.
The silence dragged on until it was uncomfortable, Cas squinting his eyes and doing his adorable little head tilt that usually signified he was studying Dean, trying to get a read on him. A few more seconds ticked on, and Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up from the couch, ready to bolt to his room where he could sulk in peace.
Again, no such luck.
Cas was on him, tackling him to the ground before he’d made it two feet. He straddled his hips, and after a brief struggle (that Dean was embarrassed to admit he’d lost too easily) Dean found his hands pinned by Cas’s on either side of his head, face bracketed in by Cas’s arms. Their noses were practically touching. Cas continued to study Dean, but the new proximity was making his head spin.
Tough guy brivatto still intact, for the moment, Dean steeled his expression into a look of annoyance, twisting himself underneath Cas’s hold, testing it. He was stuck, he knew it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight, Angelic strength be damned. Dean continued to struggle, letting out little grunts of frustration as each unsuccessful attempt let it sink in a little more just how screwed he really was. Cas had a small smirk forming on his face, and it just added to the irritation building up. Dean let out a growl, willing himself to break the hold, but eventually he conceded, body going slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, as though he was slowly starting to accept his fate. He was still breathing heavily, little huffs coming out of his nose every few seconds, but he couldn’t help the small smile starting to form on his face from the ridiculousness of it all. He tried to school his expression into something neutral, but he was failing. When he dared to peek one eye open, Cas was grinning down at him with that big gummy smile of his. Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he said “yeah, yeah, you made your point, now let me up.” But Cas apparently had other intentions, grip tightening slightly at the request.
“Dean, we just want to help. I’d like you to tell us willingly, but I’m not against coercing it out of you.” As Cas spoke, his eyes started to twinkle, and Dean gulped, his throat growing dry, nerves set on edge. If Cas’s look was any indication of what was coming, Dean was in trouble. He tried to remain calm, not giving Cas the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He fidgeted again, cursing himself silently.
Get it together, Winchester. You can still get out of this.
Right on cue, as if reading his mind, Cas readjusted his grip so that he was holding both of Dean’s hands in just one of his, other hand coming to rest ever so gently on Dean’s side. Well shit. This wasn’t the first time Cas had used this method to get Dean to “talk” and he should have known it was coming. Dean had two options, tell the truth, or try and lie his way out of it, convincingly, of course.
He put on the brightest smile possible, the one he knew worked ninety five percent of the time, his go-to when he was trying to charm his way out of a not- so-pleasant situation he’d inevitably found himself in, and said “I’m FINE, man, I swear, just let me up.” He tried not to let his voice waiver, but when Cas didn’t budge, Dean chuckled nervously, averting his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he turned his face back, eyes pleading with Cas to just drop it. But Cas could be stubborn as well, and as the moments ticked on, it became increasingly clear that Cas would not be satisfied until Dean fessed up. Dean narrowed his eyes, voice low. “Don’t even think about it.” he snarled, trying to appear as if he had control of the situation, even if Cas did have the upper hand. He let out another growl, but it quickly turned into a yelp as Cas’s fingers jumped to life.
Sam, who had previously returned his attention back to his laptop after the brief exchange with his brother, heard the noise and looked up, curiosity getting the best of him. He smiled softly at the sight of his brother squirming beneath Cas. Dean was trying his hardest to keep his composure in check, but was rapidly losing that battle. Cas’s growing smile was a clear indicator that Dean was close to breaking. Cas knew it and was slowly chipping away, gaining leverage with every twitch of his fingers. Moments ticked on, Dean still squirming but refusing to concede, and eventually Cas must have decided he’d had enough. Without warning, he released his grip on Dean’s hands in favor of digging all ten fingertips into both of his sides. Dean was not expecting the sudden change, and his wall of resistance shattered. He began cackling, the noise loud enough to catch Eileen’s attention, who until this moment had remained focused on her show. She glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised and questioning, and Sam just smiled back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The pair stood up simultaneously, making their way over to the spot where Dean and Cas were still battling it out, although it was clear who was winning this little bout.
Dean could see Sam and Eileen approach out of the corner of his eye, although his vision was already starting to blur. He groaned through his laughter, trying to hide his face in the crook of his arm. This was embarrassing, especially with how quickly Cas had broken him. It had only been a minute, tops, since Cas had really started tickling in earnest, and Dean was already red-faced and giggling hysterically. He had expected to hold out longer than that, but Cas had him so wound up with anticipation, he didn’t stand a chance. He was twisting frantically, kicking his legs, trying to throw Cas off, to no avail. A few “Cas’s” and “please” and "stop it’s” slipped in whenever he could catch a breath, although only half of them decipherable. Damned if he wouldn’t still try though. Cas just shook his head, acknowledging he had heard him but wasn’t complying with his requests. The little shit was dead when Dean got out of this. Dean was so getting him back, tenfold. But he couldn’t focus on that right now.
The little voice in Dean’s head kept telling him if he just agreed to give them an answer that this could all be over. He tried convincing himself of what it was he DID want. What answer would appease them? What was the truth? Dean hadn’t been able to put his finger on it before, and he certainly was having trouble thinking clearly now. Another part of him, a louder part, kept reminding him that this WAS what he wanted. Physical contact, no matter the form. Sometimes he found himself craving it, the lack of it overwhelming him to the point of suffocation. Usually he drowned himself in other distractions to take away the sting. Until now, it had worked. He wasn’t expecting it to hit him today with an audience. He hadn’t even fully accepted that was the problem, but as the contact with Cas made the earlier cold and loneliness slowly ebb away, a realization dawned on him. Well damn if he would admit it. He had a reputation to uphold.
As Sam and Eileen reached them, Dean could see Cas and Eileen share a quick glance, and then she nodded, as though they could read each other's minds. The silent exchange made his nerves ignite. She knelt down above his head, and Cas paused his tickling to pass Dean’s arms to her, one at a time. He tried to resist, but in the end it was futile. From his seat on Dean’s lap, Cas had the advantage. Eileen sat on them gently, only enough pressure to ensure he was pinned firmly. Dean gulped. One on one with Cas was bad enough, but being double teamed… They wouldn’t, would they? Dean shivered at the thought. At least Sam was still standing. Dean didn’t know what would happen if all three of them attacked. He’d never survive. He might as well ask to cuddle, right then and there. At least he’d still have some of his dignity left.
Once the pair deemed Dean secured in his new position, Cas said “last chance to talk, Dean.” He was counting on Dean’s stubbornness, and when Dean glared at him with a “how dare you” look, Cas grinned and started tickling again, fingers back at Dean’s sides, though not as harshly as last time. Dean should have been grateful for the reprieve, only now Eileen’s hands were added to mix. Dammit, NO! Her fingers were poking and prodding in and around his armpits, occasionally jumping to his collarbones and up and around his ears. Dean exploded, cackling, voice going in and out as his pitch reached new levels. His efforts to free himself increased momentarily, twisting and turning with every poke and prod, but he was quickly running out of energy. He was shaking his head from side to side, a stream of jovial “nonono’s” bursting out of him every time he could catch his breath.
Eventually he went slack, sweat lacing his brow. Cas and Eileen noticed and slowed the tickling just enough to give him a moment to breathe, but still enough to keep him gently giggling. Eileen with her long fingernails still scritching softly under his chin. Cas with the soft pads of his fingertips digging into his ribs. And Sam with that dopey, lopsided smile, grinning down at Dean every time he dared peek his eyes open, looking at Dean like his face was the brightest thing aside from the sun.
It was more than Dean could handle. He needed it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.
“Ok, ok I give. I give up. Please, no more.” Dean relented. Cas and Eileen paused, waiting for him to continue. When his breathing slowed completely, they looked on expectantly, but instead of speaking, he tried hiding his face in the crook of his elbow again. “Heeey” he giggled, as Eileen softly tickled the side of his neck, forcing him to turn his head. He looked up at her, trying to glare, but was betrayed by his lingering smile, and she bent down to peck a kiss to his forehead. He almost started crying. What the hell was going on with him today?
He closed his eyes and laid there for a moment, trying to regain his composure, not trusting himself to make eye contact, much less to speak. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Still pinned beneath the pair, he tried to muster up some courage. As he looked over, Cas started wiggling his fingers again, making a show of getting closer and closer to Dean’s sides, and it was all the encouragement Dean needed to blurt out “I was just lonely and wanted attention!” He immediately tried hiding his face again, cheeks burning red. This time, no one stopped him. When a few minutes had passed and no one had spoken, he dared to glance up.
From the looks on their faces, whatever it was they were expecting Dean to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. All 3 were looking at him with slightly different expressions, from fondness to curiosity, but not one of them appeared to be judging him. He was grateful for that, at least. Maybe he could finish the day with some of his dignity intact.
“I answered your question, can I sit up now please?” Dean asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable in his current position. Cas and Eileen, realizing that they were still pinning Dean down, released their hold, shuffling back to give him some room. He sat up, keeping his head down, hand ringing at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He could feel their eyes on him still and it made his cheeks burn red again. He wished they’d just leave him to wallow in peace. They owed him that much. Instead, as Cas and Eileen stood up, Sam offered Dean a hand. He accepted it, shakily rising to his feet, still a little wobbly and light headed from before. Sam saw him stagger and righted him, but instead of stopping at that, he pulled him into a crushing hug.
“Come here, ya big dummy.” Sam said, and Dean could tell by his tone that Sam was grinning. When Dean didn’t put up much resistance, he pressed on “if you wanted us to hug you, why didn’t you just ask?” Dean tensed at the teasing and started to pull away, even though the contact was keeping him grounded at the moment. Old habits were hard to break. Sam wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightened his grip, arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, fingers starting to wiggle into the crevices at the back of his armpits. Dean let out a gasp, followed by a “nohoho, not again!” and before he could help himself he was giggling, squirming steadily in Sam’s arms, trying to keep himself upright, although his knees were threatening to give out. Cas stepped in behind him, just in time to catch him as Dean managed to break Sam’s hold.
Dean stumbled and Cas righted him, wrapping his arms around him to keep him vertical. Sam advanced forward, hands finding purchase on Dean’s belly as he responded to Dean’s plea of “no Sammy, please don’t” with “I didn’t get to participate before, Dean, it’s only fair!” When Sam fingers found his belly button, Dean shrieked, laughter quickly turning silent. He was doubled over Cas’s arms, trying to force Sam’s evil fingers away, but Sam continued to slip his grip with ease. Eventually he gave up and tipped his head back, temple brushing against Cas’s, arms crossed in front of him as much as Cas’s hold would allow. Sam eventually slowed when it was clear that Dean couldn’t take much more.
Sam giggled at his brother as he tried to entangle himself from Cas’s octopus-like grip. When Dean was finally free, he stumbled over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. He laid on his back, arm draped over his eyes, willing his breath to settle. He startled when he felt someone lift his head up, but relaxed again when he realized it was only Cas climbing in to sit beneath him, Dean’s head now in his lap. Cas started running his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing every once in a while to scratch at his scalp. Dean hummed appreciatively, which only encouraged Cas to continue.
Normally he’d be embarrassed at showing his emotions so openly, but after what he’d just endured, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had picked up his discarded book before settling down, now propping it up on the arm of the couch, somehow managing to juggle it with one hand while still attentive to Dean with the other. Every once in a while his hand would stray from Dean’s head to rub over his back or shoulders, and Dean would sigh contentedly. Maybe he needed to ask for what he wanted more often.
Sam and Eileen were snuggled on the loveseat, watching on with fondness. Cas looked up and met their gaze, smiling at them and then down at Dean. Dean met his gaze, smiling softly back. The rain still pattered lightly on the windows, only now all was right with the world again. Maybe rest days weren’t so bad after all. He rolled over, snuggling his face into Cas’s lap, and when Cas resumed his scritching, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.
I rarely write but this one just came together so quickly, I couldn’t stop the brain worms. Hope you enjoy.
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