“I said no. I thought you were smart, don’t you know what ‘no’ means?”
“But I’m really ready this time! Honest!”
Dean rubbed his eyes with a sigh as his little brother pleaded and whined like a baby. “No. You’re 13, dude. No way in hell are you going on a hunt.”
“Why not? You started way before 13!” Sam protested.
“Yeah, but that’s different. I’m the oldest, I can do more younger,” Dean countered, knowing his argument was BS as he sat down on one of the motel beds and loaded his gun.
“Please! I’ve been reading up on lore and practicing shooting, I’m really good!” Sam pleaded.
Dean groaned internally and placed his gun on the nightstand before an idea popped into his head, one that made a smirk appear on his face. “...You know what? Fine. I’ll convince Dad to let you come.”
Sam’s face lit up. “Yes!!”
“But,” Dean started, “you have to pass a test.” Dean almost snorted when Sam straightened up, trying to appear ready for anything. “At ease, soldier.”
“What’s the test?”
Dean grinned. “It’s a test of endurance. You up for it?”
Sam nodded vigorously. It was cute, how excited the kid was. Little did he know what was coming for him.
“Good. Here’s the test: Don’t laugh.” With that, Dean grabbed his little brother and started vibrating his fingers into his stomach. Sam gasped and grabbed Dean’s wrist, trying to push him away. But Dean was much stronger than him, and didn’t budge. Sam’s smile was toothy and silly, but not a single laugh had escaped his lips. Admittedly, Dean was impressed. He’d expected the tween to burst into laughter right away, but he’d lasted… 20 seconds so far.
“Remember, Sammy, don’t laugh,” Dean teased, just to be a dick. Sam was silently shaking his head and squirming, and it was just too cute to watch. His face was growing red with how hard he was trying not to laugh, and he was using one hand to try and fend Dean off, and the other to pound at Dean’s wrist.
“Ow!’ Dean laughed, as it didn’t hurt at all. “Don’t hit me, bitch!” He was sure that Sam would call him a jerk if he wasn’t focused so hard on not laughing. Dean decided to end the kid’s suffering, spidering his fingers under Sam’s shirt and scratching his fingers mercilessly at the soft skin of his armpits.
Sam let out a ridiculous squeal before bursting into loud laughter. Just like that, he’d lost. But in truth, Dean never had any intentions of actually letting him win.
“Oh, well, looks like you lost,” Dean said with a grin, though his fingers never stopped their ticklish torment.
“THAHAHAHAHAT’S NAHAHAHAHAHAT FAHAHAHAHAIR!”
“It’s completely fair. I told you not to laugh, you laughed, you lost.” Dean chuckled, and he only stopped once Sam’s knees buckled. Usually, he would’ve taken this opportunity to wreck him, but he knew his dad would be here soon for the hunt Sam had so desperately wanted to go on.
“Jeheheheherk…” Sam said, residual giggles still flowing.
Dean heard a honking noise outside and looked out the window to see that the familiar Impala had pulled up outside. Time to go.
“We’ll see if you can pass the test next time. Until then, nah, you’re staying here,” Dean said as he pulled on a jacket and grabbed his gun. He saw something from his peripherals, and he ducked just as a pillow flew past his head. He pointed a finger at Sam, who still wore a grin. “You’ll pay for that later.”
Dean left the motel wondering if Sam would ever pass the test, chuckling to himself as he concluded that no, no he wouldn’t.
A/N: On request! @w1nt37 I hope this is to your Imagination! ;)
I'm glad you sent in that request, I had a lot of fun playing with the characters! ^^
(not proofread.. if there's something do let me know!) and @w1nt37 if you think I didn’t do this fic the justice it deserved or you want a sequel no matter the outcome, do let me know!
Now have fun~! ^^
Info; This is a Tickle fic with Lee!Sam and Ler!Bucky,
warnings: A Very low and barely brushed by form of racism, slight cursing (If you want to skip the part of Sam questioning everything skip to greenly markered "Finally they got to the docks")
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Sam sighed, Captain America, an idol everyone knew, a super soldier, blonde, perfect hair, huge build and not to mention used to be a kid from Brooklyn.
Captain America, a legend who had been frozen in ice for decades and returned to lead the avengers into battle, may that have been against Hydra, aliens or other mighty threats.
Now it was the Falcons turn. Someone who got filtered by ‘race’, someone no one seemed to accept the name of. It was often “the black falcon this”, “the black falcon that”…
It was rarely just… The Falcon.. just Captain America.
Now the shield, which held a huge legacy and was handed down to him, laid in the grass in front of his feet. His thoughts shot through his head like fireworks, all past events seemed to happen in mere seconds in the backs of his eyes. Civil war, thanos, John walker…. The baron..
Now he, Sam Wilson, was the Captain America, and while he was respected by most by now, there was always that someone who hates his guts or had something to say about his position. The kind that made him rethink everything even though he knew he’d never give the shield up again that easily.
….. he didn’t only just wanted to prevent to retrieve it again from some nuts soldier, but Steve chose him. Steve Roger’s chose Sam Wilson to be the next Captain America, he had faith in him, unwavering. And his best friend made sure he remembered that.
Another heavy sigh escaped him. Bucky. He was an ally for himself. How would someone even describe him? Gloomy? Tough but nice? Sam shook his head. Bucky was more than that. He is the white wolf, an agent so strong he survived Hydra and went back to the field, this time on the right side.. and all that for… him. No, right? He went out for the shield.. but stayed because of his friend.
Sam growled and pushed the thoughts away, moving his hands over his face with a defeated sigh.
He stood, taking the shield as he went and walked inside, where he hid it from plain sight before wandering into the kitchen. Bucky who sat on the couch eyed him, “you good?“ he asked but his eyes didn’t move from the screen. Sam didn’t turn around to acknowledge him, instead he continued his trip to the fridge. “Yeah.” He hummed, the tone a lot lower and unsure then he would’ve liked to admit.
The awful tone didn’t go unnoticed by the super soldier which made him turn around and lay his metal arm on the backrest of the couch. His eyes scanned Sam, friend and partner in crime, rummaging through the small fridge. “don’t steal my water.” Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at the door, stifling a snort at the sight of the two tiny water bottles.
“Haven’t you had enough of cold water and ice?” Bucky huffed at the intended playful jab “what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his metal hand flexing as he growled slightly.
Sam grinned and looked over the fridge door. “I don’t know man. You were frozen for quite a long time.” He stated making Bucky raise an amused eyebrow “are you trying to get a rise out of me Wilson?” Sam scoffed at the question and shook his head as she grabbed the snack he was searching for. “No, you just can’t take a joke.” He stated as he opened the package and walked past Bucky again and towards the staircase that lead upstairs. Bucky frowned, Sam usually didn’t do such dry quips, usually they were a lot more playful and just then their eyes met once.. before he could comment Sam bested him to talking. “By the way, we’re meeting my sister later today.” He reminded before vanishing. Bucky hummed “okay.” He called after his friend and frowned, what was going on..?
Finally they got to the docks, water was running, children were running around and they? They were just sitting at the table with Sam being awfully far from home, just staring out at the water.
His sister and Bucky noticed rather quickly but neither said anything, rather focusing on trying to somehow get the man into their conversation, without any luck.
When Sam’s Phone vibrated on the bench the man didn’t look over either, Bucky however did, frowning at the article that had popped up. It was one of those that made the public question everyone and everything even if it were pure lies, made up stories used to create chaos.
Bucky eyed Sam, suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. The sour moods, the dry comebacks.. it only ever happened when things like these happened. He sent Sara a look. She understood immediately and looked for the kid, rushing off with a playful flurry of “I’ll catch you!”
Bucky looked at Sam who had finally parted his gaze from the ocean to the children and his sister. The super soldier nudged his side “how about we join them?” He offered. Sam merely huffed “not right now.” He murmured. His friend hummed and watched Sara catch one of the children, hysterical laughter rushing through the air all of a sudden.
Bucky smirked as the child tried escaping to the ground, trying to evade the tickles somehow. “Seems to be running in the family, huh?” He asked. Sam scoffed “what? Tickling? No, not really anyway, just some of the family is ticklish.” He said.
Bucky nodded slowly, was Sam telling the truth? His insinuation he wasn’t ticklish? Only one way to find out ey? His hands latched onto his sides and stomach, not gaining a reaction but he didn’t move anymore either.
It looked like Sam had just frozen in place. Then the man in question turned to him “go on, try.” He urged with a slightly smug expression. The change in demeanour threw Bucky off, but not enough to make him halt.
“Bet.”
Fingers dug around, scribbled and squeezed for any sign of ticklishness.
Sam didn’t move. In fact he froze.
Bucky noticed and kept a close eye on the man’s reactions, looking up with a menacing shine when Sam finally flinched ever so slgihtly „okay that’s enough-”
One second, two, then three seconds passed and the captain bolted. „HEY!“ Bucky exclaimed and raced after his friend, scrambling over the bench and after Sam.
„No-! You had your fun!“ Sam exclaimed with a smile and turned around, yelping when Bucky launched for him. The captain barely dodged and turned back around to run. The kids laughed as they watched the adults chase after each other with glee.
The two men leaped over other benches and around other obstacles. „oh Sam~“ Bucky sang playfully. Sam‘s heart skipped a beat, his feet picking up the pace at the incoming, playful, threat. He headed towards the fields, there was slightly more space..
He turned around and jogged backwards „oh Bucky!“ he called back and a grin fought its way onto his face „you had your fun! Come on man!“ Bucky laughed and made another grab for the man „and we both know you need this.“ he growled playfully lowly, making Sam stare at his friend in shock and disbelief at what the man had just said.
With a thud both landed on the ground thanks to Sam tripping.
"James N-gghk!" Sam tried complaining, only to tense and shut his yaw, head tilting back ever so slightly at the silly sensation. Bucky meanwhile smirked down at him, hands squeezing and scribbling over the mans sides. "ouh, first name, I must be in biiig trouble." he said with a tone so smug Sam wanted to just pounce at his friend and whipe that damned grin off his face, or retaliate..
retaliate..
Sam growled and wormed his fingers into Bucky's armpits, making the man stop and stare down at his partner in crime. The other froze as well, not because his friend had given no reaction but because of the calculating look in his eyes that made his stomach drop. "You done?" he asked, trying to sound bored and done while turning his head to look away into the distance. Bucky stared for a second longer before his hands swooped up into the Captains armpits. "BUCKEE!" came the surprised screech of his friend and it was like Sam promptly went from a plank on a house, to a fish out of water.
An airy chuckle left Bucky's lips at the image. "AhahaHaey Buhuhucky! Quihit it!" Sam growled through laughter, only to jump as a shock travelled up and down his spine. "HEhehey!" Bucky let his fingers travel around the armits, trying to find the spot that had made his friend jump.. "What was that Wilson?" he purred lowly, the smirk now all too present on his face. "AHahaaha fuhuck off Baharnes!" Bucky scoffed at how daring his friend was in such a peculiar position.. "I doubt you're in a position to say such things mister 'I'm-Not-Ticklish'" he reminded as his finger slowly reached around the armpits, towards the back. "Prehehtty sure I cAHAHAN! BUCKY!" he exclaimed with a highpitched note, hands coming up to grab at Bucky's arms to shove them away without luck.
The tickling may not have been weakening him much, but super soldier strength was already overly unfair!
"YOUhuHU're PLAHAhahayIng UHunfAHAir!" Sam voiced his complain to which Bucky tilted his head at "hows that?" he mused. "YOuHuHUr StrehehEngth!" Bucky sniggered and shook his head "Well alright then, complain to Hydra would ya?" he said and shook his head "Or of course try a little harder to shove me off, it's like you're not even fighting it"
Sam tried sending the male a heated glare, though for naught as he fell back into hysterical giggles and small cackles every now and again.
Bucky looked down at his friend, the cackles made the frowns vanish, it seemed like Sam just completely forgot about his earlier issue.. his eyes fell to the mans thighs, with a knowing smirk he yanked one hand away from one of the armits and squeezed. Sam bucked with a surpised cackle "BUHUCKY!" he protested and kicked out "ThaHAhat's MIHINE!" he wheezed out through the deep hearted laughter that left his system with each squeez and scribble. Bucky smirked "I didn't say anything less." he mused.
Sam patted the ground twice, making Bucky let up.
The younger gasped for air and sent the other a slightly smug glare "Oh sorry I thought you forgot which one was yours figuring how old you are you should be-HEHEY TIHIME OUHUT!" Sam exclaimed when Bucky went right back to tickling, sending goosebumps up his back and arms. "I thought I told you it wasn't wise to make such comments" bucky growled, awfully close to sams ear.
The younger giggled and leaned away, earning an amused laugh from Bucky who had only ever so rarely heard the latter giggle. "What was that?" he asked. Sam sniggered and squeezed his eyes shut. "THehe KIhids!" Bucky raised an amused eyebrow, was he blaming the children? One look over his shoulder told him yes, the kids were far off in the distance still playing with Sara.
Bucky smirked "Would be a shame if Sara knew aye?" Sam tried smaking the male, getting dodged with ease "YouHUhu Jeherk!" Bucky tased Sam's side, awfully close to the mans back "EHEHEY!" he laughed, turning towards the hand to block anymore firework like attacks. Bucky smirked and scribbled over the thin shirt on his now other side, the open back all too inviting. "AHahAHA NoooOOOhO!"
The quick squeezes continued, first one side then the other, it was like the back and forth wouldn't end, and the more often it happened the more prominent those with electricy filled shocks got, and soon enough Bucky had his friend writhering and laughing his head off underneath him.
"AhAHAhahaLRIGHT! AHAHlright! YOuhuHUHU WIHIHIN!" Bucky sniggered and let up but didnt let Sam get up just yet. The supersoldier now sitting next to his friend, one leg over the mans hips. Sam sniggered and covered his slightly tinted cheeks, body relaxing into the ground "youhu suhuhuck..." Bucky chortled and looked towards the docks. "A lot better to have you laughing then sulking around and not talking."
Sam looked up and the man, ever so slightly surpised by what the other just said. "Yeah well.." he huffed and looked at the leg and then Bucky, sending a daring glare "How about letting me up?"
Bucky smirked and leaned towards him, about to tell him no before Saras voice echoed over the field "FOODS READY!"
Right! The grill!
Bucky got up in an instant, brushing himself off and letting Sam, who was arguably still slightly wonky on his feet rise. "You good?" Bucky mused as he watched the male. Sam rolled his eyes and smirked back at him "Sure, you don't actually think you could take me down with a bit of tickling." Bucky grinned right back, so smugly Sam had to take a step back. "Right, and you're totally not ticklish."
The captain popped his lips and promptly left as nothing to say came to mind. Bucky laughed at the sight of his friend speed walking towards the grills. He started jogging, noticing Sam look back and send him a 'do not'. Bucky grinned and charged at his friend, earning a shriek as Sam turned around and dashed towards his sister and the kids, to safety from his teammate, friend and tickle monster.
"Uncle Sam! Uncle Bucky! Sara played totally unfair!" a child complained and Sam instantly jumped onto the topic, letting the kids lead the way to the table with food in hand. Bucky sent Sara a charming and victorious grin at which she laughed and smiled back with a shake of the head.
The afternoon went without hiccups, they chatted, played board games, normal games and all too soon the afternoon sun was setting.
Bucky and Sam bid their farwells to the families and left.
Bucky opened the front door to the house and grinned to himself "Just so you know, you're never living that down." A loud and highpitched groan came from behind him, letting him know his friends dismay.
They stepped in and as Bucky hung the keys, Sam sent him a look, it may have not been the cheer-up method he would've chosen, but he had to silently admit, it helped nonetheless. Plus, now he kinda knew where they stood, they were buddies, friends, someone he could count on even beyond the bettlefield.
"How did you know about my armpits? Lucky guess?" he asked. Bucky hummed and turned to Sam "Usually people go for spots that work on themselves." he explained crutly, passing his friend and making a B line for the bathroom.
Sam hummed in understanding before freezing and looking after his friend "Wait so you're ticklish too?!" he called, not getting an answer as the door shut.
The Captain shook his head and switched his phone off. For once feeling more then just apprechiated.
Here’s my second Supernatural fanfic! I love these guys so much. Not much for me to say other than I hope you like it.
Warnings: Tickling, mentions of alcoholism, also this is not to make Dean seem like a massive alcoholic (yes technically he can be considered one in the show but still), it’s not meant to be alarming, this fic is supposed to be purely fun.
Summery: Dean wants to go out on a beer run during the night. Sam is not for that.
The motel room smelled faintly of mildew, but it worked like any other motel they’ve been to. The two brothers were both doing their own thing, Sam was doing more research for their next job, and Dean was flipping through channels on the motel TV for the hell of it, drinking the last bottle of beer they had
Not long after, it was finished. Dean sighed as he shook it a bit.
He didn’t exactly consider himself an alcoholic (that much anyway), but he still at least wanted to stock up for the next day. Plus he felt he had to get out for a bit anyway. He was getting a bit antsy.
“We’re out of beer.” Dean announced with a sigh.
Sam, sprawled out on the bed with his laptop, barely looked up. “Yeah, because you drank it all.”
“Gonna go to the store,” Dean said, grabbing his jacket.
Sam glanced at the clock on the nightstand, raising an eyebrow. “It’s eleven o’clock at night, Dean. Can’t it wait until morning?”
“Nope.” Dean snatched up his car keys from the table and turned toward the door.
“Dean,” Sam said warningly, sitting up straighter. “You’re not seriously going out now just for beer.”
“Why not? It’s beer.”
Sam groaned, rubbing his temples. Before Dean could make it to the door, Sam stood and, in one swift motion, plucked the keys from Dean’s hand.
“Hey!” Dean whirled around, glaring. “Give those back.”
“No.” Sam said firmly, holding the keys behind his back.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Sam, don’t you start.”
“Dean, it’s late, you’re tired, and we don’t need you getting pulled over or worse just because you’re out on a beer run.”
Dean took a step forward. “I’m not going to get pulled over. Just hand them over.”
Sam shook his head, backing away toward the far side of the room. “Nope. You’ll thank me in the morning. You can’t get too drunk, we still have a case to work tomorrow.”
Dean’s demeanor turned a bit more playful, but still glaring. He inched toward Sam slowly.
“What are you… Dean, wait!” Sam tried to sidestep as Dean lunged at him, but the motel room didn’t leave much room to get around. Dean tackled him onto the bed, pinning him down easily. Sam may have been taller and bigger, but Dean knew his baby brother lile the back of his own hand.
“Give me the keys!” Dean barked, reaching for Sam’s hand.
“No! Get off, Dean!” Sam shouted, twisting and squirming as he tried to keep the keys out of Dean’s reach.
Dean’s frustration quickly turned into amusement as Sam wriggled beneath him. He remembered the countless times that they’ve done this when they were kids. He remembered exactly what he would do to make Sam give in. Dean’s grin slowly turned wicked.
“Oh, you’re getting it now.” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Sam froze for a second. “Dean… what are you- g-gYAh!”
Dean didn’t respond. Instead, he darted his hands to Sam’s sides, digging his fingers gently into his flank.
“Dehean nohoho!” Sam burst into high pitched hysterical giggles, his body bucking wildly. “Stohohop, plehehease!”
“Not until you give me the keys.” Dean replied simply, grinning as he kneaded his fingers into Sam’s ribs. “Man, I forgot how ticklish you are!”
“AHHahahaha ihihim nOHOhot!” Sam cried out. The loud, bubbly laughter pouring out of him reminded Dean of back when they were kids. Sam had the same little habits. Little squeaks in his laughter, his feet kicking out. His hands trying to reach for Deans arms to push uselessly. Sam was bigger now, but way too ticklish for his own good. It made Sam’s size meaningless.
“Oh, really? What’s this then?” Dean teased, moving his hands to Sam’s belly and squeezing just above his hips.
“PLeHEHeHahase! Nahahaha NOHOHot thehehere!” Sam shrieked, trying to twist away.
“Not the belly, huh?” Dean grinned as he sunk his fingers into it over Sam’s shirt and vibrated his fingers in. An old trick. And it clearly still worked. Sam’s laughter turned up louder and more frantic, writhing as his back arched.
“Oh and what about here? This still bad for you?” Dean’s hands darted to Sam’s armpits, wiggling his fingers in the sensitive hollows.
Sam howled with hysterical laughter, his arms instinctively snapping down to try to protect himself. “DEHehehan! Stohohop! I cahahahan’t!”
“Can’t what? Give me the damn keys?” Dean teased, his grin widening. He missed seeing his brother like this. So carefree, happy. He hadn’t heard Sam’s genuine and real laughter since they were kid’s.
Sam didn’t respond, too lost in his frantic, uncontrollable laughter as he pawed weakly at Deans chest and arms. The car keys were miraculously still in Sam’s fist.
“Hey remember that one spot I know you just loved?” Dean smirked, trailing his hands back to Sam’s ribs. “You always got weak right about…here.”
Dean’s fingers found the soft part of Sam’s ribcage, right at the bottom where the floater ribs were. He gently dug his fingers in lightly, kneading the area.
“NAHAHAHA! DEHEHEAN! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”
“Bingo!” Dean said triumphantly with a wide grin, focusing his efforts on the spot. “This was your ultimate weakness, wasn’t it? Just these little ribs right here and, boom, you were gone!”
Sam was completely in stitches now. His laughter now high pitched, frantic, and desperate. His body writhed and twitched helplessly beneath Dean. “PLEHEHEASE! AHAHA! OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY!”
Dean paused for a moment, his hands still resting on the soft spot on his ribs. “You giving me the keys?”
Sam nodded frantically, gasping for air. “Y-yehehes! Juhust stohohop!”
Grinning, Dean plucked the keys from Sam’s hand and climbed off him.
Sam rolled onto his side, little giggling still leaking out weakly, as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re an ass.” he muttered between gasps.
“Yeah. But now I’m an ass with car keys,” Dean said with a smirk, jingling them triumphantly.
Sam shot him a glare but didn’t move to stop him as Dean grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“See ya later Sammy!” Dean said with a wink before disappearing out the door.
Sam sighed and rolled to his back. His breathing and nerves finally stabilizing.
He smiled to himself despite the torture Dean just put him through. It felt good knowing Dean was the same old goof of a brother that he was when they were kids.
Summary: After a sleep deprived Sam almost drifts off behind the wheel, Dean takes over and begins boasting that he can handle the Impala under absolutely any circumstance.
Switch! Dean Winchester
Switch! Sam Winchester
Word count: 2,876
The highway cuts through the Black Hills, the massif on both sides surrounded by oppressive walls of tall, sweeping pines. It is nearly three in the morning, and a relentless, steady downpour is blurring the world beyond the windshield into a smear of grey and black. The wipers work in a rhythmic, heavy pattern, producing a sound that, combined with the low, rumble of the impala's engine, is a lethal recipe for exhaustion.
Inside the cabin, the dashboard glows soft, dim amber. Sam Winchester, slumped in the driver's seat. His massive frame awkwardly compressed, chin slowly dipping toward his chest. His knuckles loosing on the steering wheel, and for the third time in ten minutes, the Impala's tires drift just a fraction of an inch over the rumble strip—
The sudden vibration jolts Sam awake. His eyes snapped open, blinking frantically against the dark. His hands instantly tightening on the wheel as he jerks the car back into the center of the lane.
From the passenger seat, Dean doesn't even look up from the weapon cleaning cloth he's been idling with, but his voice is laced with dry, older brother judgment. "That's three, Sammy."
"I'm fine," Sam croaks, his voice thick with sleep. He clears his throat, hopping his bottom up in the seat, straightening his back. "Just a pothole."
"A pothole that stretched for twenty feet and rattled the hell out of my ass? Yeah, right. Pull over."
"Dean, seriously, I'm alright. We're only an hour out from the motel." Sam grips the wheel tighter, staring fiercely at the rain-slicked asphalt, trying to force his brain into alertness.
"Yeah, and an hour is plenty of time for you to put my car into a ditch. Pull over, Sam."
"I said I've got i—"
"Sam. Pull. O–ver." Dean's voice shifted from casual teasing to that low and unyielding command that leaves no room for argument.
With a frustrated sigh, Sam gives in. He blinks through the rain, guiding the Impala onto the gravel shoulder. The tires crunch loudly before coming to a stop. Before Sam can even shift into park, Dean is already unbuckling, throwing his door open into the cold, rainy night and jogging around the hood. Sam groans, unpinning his long legs from the pedals, and slides across the bench seat into the passenger side.
Dean slips into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind himself. He shook his head like a dog to scatter the raindrops from his short hair, and grips the steering wheel with an obnoxious, theatrical sigh of relief. He shifts the car back into drive, pulling them smoothly onto the empty highway.
"Unbelievable," Dean scoffs, immediately settling into a smug rhythm. He taps his fingers against the leather wheel, glancing over at Sam with a grin. "Ninth grade, all over again. Can't even keep your eyes open for a three-hour stretch. You're a weakling, Sammy. A giant, delicate snowflake."
"Shut up, Dean," Sam mumbles. He reaches down, yanking the lever to lower his seat back, reclining it until he's basically lying down. He rolls onto his side, facing away from Dean and closing his eyes to block out the road light. "Just let me sleep."
"Oh no, you don't get to sleep through your shame," Dean chirps, entirely unbothered by Sam's dismissive attitude. He leaned back, with one elbow resting casually on the window frame. The very picture of his effortless mastery. "I mean, look at this. Rain pouring down, visibility next to nothing, road greasy as hell. Am I complaining? No. Cause a real driver can handle any circumstance."
Sam lets out a soft, mocking huff into his jacket collar, keeping his eyes shut. "Right. You're a hero, Dean. Put it on a resume."
"I'm serious! Remember that hunt in Missouri? When that crazy ass black pickup truck was tryna ram me off the ridge? I was driving through a mountain pass, in a blizzard, and I still didn’t lose traction."
Sam rolls his eyes, finally opening them just a crack. He turns his head back toward the driver's seat, a sleepy, skeptical smirk playing on his lips as he shook his head.
"Or what about the time in Pontiac? We had three cruiser tails, roadblocks on the interstate, and I navigated us through an alleyway that was literally three inches wider than this car. Did I sweat? No. Did I scratch the chrome? Not a scratch. I can drive under any condition, Sam. I could- I could drive with my eyes closed. I could drive while being strangled from behind by a demon and still parallel park perfectly. It's a gift."
Sam lets out a low chuckle, shifting his weight. He's starting to wake up now, purely fueled by the sheer absurdity of Dean's unraveling ego. "Oh, really? Any circumstance? What about that time the car got infested with cursed cicadas, hm?" He cocked his head to the side expectantly.
That does it. The last comment broke the last thread of Sam’s patience.
Dean’s posture stiffened. His face reddening slightly. "That was different! Those things were crawling inside my shirt! Besides, I kept the car upright. You, on the other hand, get a little sleepy because it's past your bedtime."
"Alright, that's it," Sam mutters. With a sudden, explosive burst of energy that completely belies his earlier exhaustion, Sam straightens up in his seat. Before Dean can even register the movement, Sam lunges across the center console. His long arms shoot out, his massive hand landed squarely on Dean's flanks as his long fingers instantly dug furiously into the soft flesh right above Dean's hips.
"Kh- gh-h-hEY!!" Dean jolted violently. His shoulders snapping up to his ears as a sharp, high pitched gasp ripping from his throat.
"Any circumstance, huh?" Sam teased, a wicked, wide grin splitting his face. He didn't let up, his second hand joined the first. Fingers kneading relentlessly into Dean's ribs and sides, finding the exact spots through his layers of flannel and leather.
"D-dahamn it, SaHAM—!" Dean squeaks, his composure completely shattering into an absolute mess of breathless laughter. His knees knocked together frantically under the steering wheel, and his foot twitched on the gas pedal, causing the impala to roar and lurch forward.
The car veered sharply to the left, crossing the yellow lines. Dean tried to grasp the wheel steady with his left hand, but Sam takes notice and immediately shifts his right hand, driving his fingers directly under Dean's armpit.
"Whoa! Look at that focus, Dean! You're drifting!" Sam laughed, his voice full of mischievous delight as he ruthlessly tickled his brother's sides.
"Sahammy! No, seriously! AhaHAh— grr..sstop it! I'm driv—aghh! I'm driving, Sam!" Dean exclaimed harshly, trying to shrink away from the onslaught. His back desperately arching off the seat as he squirmed against the leather. He uses his right elbow to desperately try and shield his ribs, but Sam's reach was too long. Dean's face was bright shade of red by now. His teeth bared in a wild, helpless grin as he gasped for air. The Impala swerves back to the right, the tires clipping the wet gravel of the shoulder with a loud crunching sound.
"Get oho— Get off me!!" Dean manages to bellow, bringing his forearm down hard, finally slamming his elbow into Sam's chest and shoving him forcefully back across the console into the passenger seat.
Sam fell back against his door, breathless from laughing. His chest heaving as he watched Dean panickly steer the car back into the center of the lane.
Dean panted heavily, his heart hammered against his ribs. He glares at the road, his knuckles absolutely white as he stabilizes the car. "Are you insane!?" Dean barked, though his voice still had a breathless and shaky tremor to it. "That wasn't funny at all, Sam!"
Sam just leans his head back against the headrest, letting out a loud, blooming laugh. "Oh, yeah? What happened to 'any circumstance'? I thought you could handle a demon strangling you from behind?"
"That is totally different and you know it!" Dean snapped, adjusting his grip on the wheel, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
Suddenly, Sam's laughter cut off. His amused grin vanished from his face as he felt the heavy sensation of the brakes being applied hard. The Impala's nose dipped and the car skidded slightly on the slick asphalt before Dean ruthlessly guided it onto a wide area nestled deep within the black silhouette of the forest. The tires kick up a spray of mud as the car comes to a sudden, violent stop.
The engine idles with a low, menacing rumble. The rain drummed furiously on the roof. Meanwhile Sam shifted uncomfortably against his seat at the abrupt stop. "Dean? Why'd you stop?"
Dean didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slowly turned his head to face Sam with a dark, terrifyingly joyful smirk plastered across his face. "You think you're pretty clever, don't you?"
"Dean, look, we're-...on a dark highway and we need to get to the motel—" Sam blabbered, his voice dropping an octave as he instinctively tries to unbuckle his seatbelt in case he'll need to run away from his brother, right into the heavy downpour. His back pressed flat against the passenger door, realizing too late that he had nowhere to run.
"Nah, the motel can wait," Dean says, unbuckling his seatbelt with a sharp click. "You wanna test the theory? Let's test the theory." With a feral grin, Dean threw himself across the console. Because of Sam's reclined seat, he is completely trappe. His long legs tangled up under the dashboard. Dean landed heavily on top of him, pinning Sam's thighs with his knees, and immediately diving his hands straight into his stomach.
"AhAH! DEAN!—" Sam shrieked as a deep, bubbly laughter suddenly exploded from his chest. He instantly curled inward like a folding chair. His hands shooting down to grab his brother's hands to protect his midsection, but, oh, Dean was relentless.
"Oh, what's the matter, Sammy?" Dean taunted at him. His fingers flying in a blur as he targeted the sensitive skin right along Sam's stomach and hips. "Can't handle a little distraction?"
"StahaHAahap it! Hahah—Dean, plehease!" Sam gasped as his body thrashed wildly against the car cabin, occasionally kicking and hitting the walls and windows yet to no avail. His huge and tall frame shaking the entire Impala, making it creak rhythmically. His hand darted forward, subconsciously launching to hit Dean purely out of reflex, but Dean slyly dodged his attack and shifted his ministrations way lower. His fingers dug into Sam's thighs, squeezing the muscles as he nearly got kicked by it.
Sam's eyes went wide, and a loud, breathless cry escaped him. He threw his head back against the headrest, his back arching off the ground, completely defenseless as his arms lose all the strength. "OH MY— NOHOT THEhere! D-DeHEan, please!—"
"Oh, so the thighs are the secret weapon tonight, huh?" Dean laughed, completely victorious. His own residual adrenaline turning into pure, vengeful glee. He kept the merciless rhythm up, teasing and digging into Sam's softest spots until the giant younger brother is reduced into a gasping, squirming mess.
"ALRIGHT!! DEHEean, alright! I give, I give!" Sam gasped out as his tears from laughter welled in the corners of his eyes. He desperately tried to curl away from Dean's crawling fingers. Realizing he's completely overpowered and needs to deploy his ultimate defense mechanism. "You're— ghah.. you're the best driver in the world, Dean! Seriously!" He suddenly wheezed out.
Dean paused. His fingers hovered just millimeters above Sam's twitching knees. A triumphant, wicked grin broke across his face as he squinted down at his brother insistently. "And?"
Sam swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he took in a desperate gulp, keeping his eyes glued to Dean's hovering hands. "And... and nobody else could've kept the impala on the road just now. Your reflexes are insane."
Dean's ego thoroughly inflated, but he didn't pull back just yet. He wiggles his fingers teasingly, making Sam tense in anticipation. "And?..."
"And you have absolute flawless focus under any circumstance!" Sam practically yells, throwing his hands up in total surrender. "Satisfied, jerk!?"
Dean chuckles, thoroughly pleased with himself. He gave Sam's ribs one final, playful poke just to make him squeak, then delivered two condescending pats to Sam's flushed cheek. "That's what I thought, bitch." Dean muttered, sliding back over the console into the driver's seat. He shifted the car back into drive, and flipped the headlights back on, cutting through the heavy rain. "Now go to sleep, snowflake. Big brother's got the wheel."
Sam let out a long, shuddering sigh and slumped heavily back into the leather seat, completely spent from Dean's ruthless onslaught. His muscles went totally slack, and he didn't even bother to fix his crumpled jacket or adjust his awkward, reclined posture. Lulled by the steady rhythm of the wipers and the engine's low hum, he closed his eyes and drowned in a deep, sweet slumber, dead to the world before Dean could even shift back into drive.
–––
(BONUS)
The steady drum of rain from the night before had finally trickled out. Only leaving behind a crisp, heavy mist that hung low over a desolate gas station parking lot. It was ridiculously early. The kind of dawn where the sky is just a bleak and washed out grey and the sun hasn't even bothered to show up yet.
Inside the cramped station shop, the fluorescent lights buzzed with an annoying, high pitched hum that made Dean's head throb. He tossed a couple of bills onto the counter, scooping up two plastic bags that clinked with cold beer cans and smelled heavily of cellophane wrapped breakfast burgers and stale coffee.
"Have a nice day," the pimply kid behind the register mumbled, not even looking up from his phone.
"Yeah, spectacular," Dean muttered under his breath, turning on his heel. He pushed the glass door open with his shoulder, a little bell chiming above him. He stepped out into the damp morning air, muttering to himself. "Has this kid never seen a gym or a shower in his life?..." Dean grumbled, rolling his shoulders under his leather jacket to shake off the stiffness of a six hour drive.
He walked out onto the cracked asphalt, his boots crunching on the wet gravel, but stopped short when his eyes locked on the car.
Sam was already out of the impala. He was perched casually against the hood of the car. His unnaturally long legs crossed at the ankles and his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. He was staring blankly into the tree line. His broad shoulders hunched slightly against the morning chill. As Dean approached, Sam turned his head, his eyes instantly narrowing to tiny slits against the sudden, pale brightness of the overcast sky.
"Look who’s alive," Dean called out, a smirk instantly finding its way onto his face. "Morning, sunshine."
Sam completely skipped the greeting, his voice still rough and gravelly from sleep. "Did we pass the motel?"
"Duh," Dean said easily, popping the trunk of the Impala and tossing one of the bags inside before walking over to the passenger side. "You were sleeping like a giant, drooling baby, Sammy. Didn't have the heart to wake you up just to drag your oversized body into another crappy bed."
Sam just shook his head, a faint, exhausted sigh escaping him. He didn't bother arguing. Instead, he leaned forward, ignoring Dean's explanation entirely as his eyes locked onto the plastic bag still in Dean's hand. "What’d you get?"
Dean didn't answer. Instead, his smirk widened into a full blown, wicked grin. "You know," Dean chuckled. "Maybe I should start tickling you before bed more often? Cause, you've slept like a rock. No tossing, no turning, no nightmares. It's actually pretty convenient."
Sam’s eyes snapped from the bag straight to Dean’s face, his expression deadpan and completely unamused. "Go to hell, Dean." Sam muttered. His voice pure of long suffering resignation of a younger brother who knew he was never, ever going to live last night down. He snatched the breakfast bag out of Dean's hand and rounded the front of the Impala. They opened their doors in sync, before climbing inside the cabin.
Sam settled into the driver’s seat, instantly adjusting the rearview mirror to fit his height, while Dean buried himself into the passenger side with a blissful sigh. The key turned in the ignition, and the car answered with its familiar, deep engine growl, immediately pumping welcoming heat into the car.
Dean eagerly unwrapped a cellophane covered burger, but as he shifted around on the leather seat, a smug grin crawled right back onto his face. He glanced over at his brother, who was already shifting the car into drive.
"Ooh," Dean purred around a mouthful of breakfast, shifting his weight. "Nice and warm over here. You must've just crawled out of bed, Sammy. Which is great, cause I think I've earned a little shut-eye after my legendary, rock-solid driving through that treacherous night, don't ya think? Care to give your big brother a little ride?"
Sam just rolled his eyes, gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands, and smoothly pressed down on the gas, pulling them back out onto the empty highway. This time, he was going to make damn sure he didn't give Dean any excuses to test his focus.
A/N: I used to not understand why people considered supernatural niche series since I didn't see anything exciting in the first few episodes, but lately I've been REALLY hooked. I'm already finishing season one. Idk if I'll write more, but eat ts for now🤟
Summary: Sam and Dean are wrapped up in a game of chase. Castiel is confused.
Pairing: None (Maybe Destiel if you squint)
Word Count: 1293
A/N: ikik another SPN fic… I can’t help it :v
———————————————————
The bunker was quiet as there wasn’t much to do. There were no apocalypses, no universes shattering, no Lucifer… just a normal day.
And there, sitting on the couch, was the former angel of the Lord, Castiel, hands clasped in his lap as he stared at the wall with his usual pensive expression. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of boots pounding against the floors, as well as familiar voices shouting through the halls.
“Get back here, Sammy! You know what’s coming!” Dean yelled, his voice carrying a mixture of playfulness and warning.
Sam darted around a sharp corner, his longer legs giving him a slight advantage over his older brother. The angel could overhear the back and forth and the rapid footsteps, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what was going on.
“Come on, man! I didn’t finish it on purpose! If you wanted it so bad, you should’ve put your name on it!” cried the younger Winchester, his laughter echoing through the labyrinthine halls.
The noise was quite distracting. Castiel considered moving thinking spots before the brothers came bounding into the living area, giving the angel a start.
Sam ran in first, darting behind the couch before Dean followed, taking a wide stance on the opposite side, his hands raised and his fingers formed like claws. Throughout this, neither of them even acknowledged their angelic friend, who could only hope to figure out what on earth was unfolding in front of him.
“Excuses, excuses!” Dean growled, a playful grin on his face as he circled the couch, attempting to subtly close the distance between him and his brother. “You know what happens when you mess with my pie!”
Just as Dean was about to lunge, Castiel’s gravelly voice caught their attention.
“Has Dean been possessed? Why do you appear to be so… urgent?”
The brothers stopped in their tracks, sharing a baffled look before turning back to Castiel.
“Cas, Dean isn’t possessed…” Sam explained, a small, amused smile on his lips. Meanwhile, that cheeky expression found its way back to the older Winchester’s face as he eyed the youngest in the room.
“Oh, I’m possessed, alright… possessed by the tickle monster!” he growled before jumping toward Sam while the younger was distracted, his fingers latching onto the man’s sides and digging in with vigor.
As Sam yelped and burst into a fit of boisterous laughter, grappling onto the back of the couch to try and keep upright, Castiel cocked his head to the side, looking more confused than before as he watched the scene unfold.
“Tickle monster? I do not recall reading about this in lore books… I suppose the name is self-explanatory… How do you defeat it?”
The laughter only got louder at that question, and Sam shook his head, trying his best to answer their friend’s question while his brother was destroying him with tickles.
“N-No, no, no, it’s not a real—haha—monster! Dean’s just being a goof!”
Odd… so this was a playful thing? Castiel had made a lot of progress over the years, but sometimes he thought he’d just never truly understand humans.
“Ah… so you’re not really in danger?”
Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to target the younger’s tummy, causing him to shriek and double over in hysterics. “Nope. The only thing Sammy’s in danger of is dying of laughter… Ain’t that right, Sammy?”
“Shut uhuhuhup!” came Sam’s frantic response.
Castiel’s brow creased with puzzlement, his eyes scanning the scene as if that would help him put the pieces together.
“Why were you chasing him then? He seemed quite alarmed.”
“Because it makes it more fun!”
It seemed that every answer only led to more and more questions. Why on earth would being chased be fun? Castiel had been chased before, and he recalled it as a very unpleasant experience.
“Fun? I fail to see how running for your life could be ‘fun,’” he said bluntly, tuning out the sound of Sam’s squeals as the elder’s fingers scribbled all over his belly.
Dean rolled his eyes and decided to show Sam some mercy so that they could help their angel friend out, giving his younger brother a pat on the shoulder and helping him stand. How on earth were they supposed to explain this to an angel? It was clear that Castiel didn’t have even a shred of understanding on this matter, so they were practically starting from nowhere.
“It just kind of is… the thrill of the chase, y’know?” Dean tried his hand at explaining, admittedly doing a horrible job. As the taller man sat up and plopped onto the couch, he decided to take a crack at it.
“It’s just a playful thing, Cas… When you’re not in any danger and you’re just messing around, chases can be pretty fun.” Sam smiled, trying his best to put it in simple terms. He’d also learned that it was better to explain things in a more blunt manner, since the angel could be quite… literal.
Castiel hummed, nodding slightly. “I see… Perhaps I should try to engage more. I often forget to, as Dean once put it, be less angelic.”
Dean gave a snort of laughter, raising his hands to threateningly wiggle his fingers at the angel. “Oh, buddy, you do NOT wanna get roped into this!”
At that, the angel gave a tilt of his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and bewilderment as he processed his friend’s words. “Dean, I do not believe you could take me… I am an angel of the Lord.”
Sam’s gaze bounced back and forth between the two, interested to see where this would go. Should he intervene? Maybe… but how? And frankly, why? This was pretty damn hilarious. And so, he kept his mouth shut, choosing to observe, but not before popping in with a friendly warning.
“Cas, I really wouldn’t challenge him… He’s ruthless,” he said, his voice the kind that speaks from experience. And if anyone could speak from experience on this matter, it was definitely Sam.
But the angel did not heed Sam’s warning. “Perhaps to you, Sam. But a human cannot merely take down an angel of the Lord.”
Dean’s eyes were twinkling with mischief, subtly shuffling closer to his angelic friend, hands raised menacingly. Dean was always up for a challenge. “Don’t tempt me, angel… I’ll make you eat those words.”
Castiel crossed his arms, giving a huff of disbelief. “Words cannot be eaten, Dean,” he stated matter-of-factly. It was at this moment that Sam realized he might have an out for the long, drawn-out tickle attack he would endure had this not become a thing. So, he sat up and casually started to shuffle away.
“Well, you guys have fun… Just try not to kill each other.”
He got all of three steps away before he heard a shrill shriek, and when he turned around, he saw his older brother straddling Castiel’s hips and digging his fingers into the angel’s ribs. While Sam wanted to stick around and watch the endearing scene, he knew it would only be a matter of time before Dean remembered their unfinished business… so he had to skedaddle.
“Oh, don’t think this means you’re off the hook, Sammy! Once I’m finished with this angel, you’re toast!”
And that was Sam’s cue to run… again.
While the angel didn’t fully understand games of chase, he did understand friendship and brotherhood… and that was precisely what he got from the Winchesters. Maybe he’d come around eventually, but for now, he was more than content to play around the Winchester way… with lots of teasing, banter, and of course, the occasional tickle attack.
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.
