#sam whinchster

[soft--dragon]

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.

[followafallingstar]

How you meet Michael - Cordelia

Summary: On Michaels first day off since working with Dean and Sam he goes for a walk and sees you playing in the water with your sisters. When he noticed that you were staring at him he investigates and finds a new purpose to fight for. A soulmate.

Pairing: Michael/reader, Michael/witch

Disclaimer: soulmate au

Soulmate au: God created a soulmate for each one of his children. For angels finding their soulmate is one of the most honorable tasks they could achieve due to the amount of luck they must have since the soul of a human mate can be sent to earth at any time during the existence of humanity. But when an angel does meet their other half their loyalty to god switches to their mate, protecting them at all costs. Feelings such as love and lust are only acceptable and archivable for angels when they meet their soulmate and that only to the mate too so acts of unloyalty or cheating don’t exist in their world.

The sun was shining brightly, and the shimmering hues it created were being deflected into the ocean, giving it the beautiful blue color that resembled his wings. Massive, shiny, and paired in six, three on each side. Each one of them is bigger than the lower one. For humans invisible but for you strangely that wasn’t the case, not that you knew that you weren’t supposed to see them.

At first, you were sure he was a freak who didn’t know that Halloween is in October and not in late July but the more you watched the man the more you were sure he wasn’t normal. You asked your youngest sister “Goldie, do you see that?”. While your sister held her gaze in the same direction as you, she didn’t notice anything out of the blue. You frowned, sensing that the man wasn’t just walking around with wings for no reason. Just as you were to turn your back on him and shift your attention to the volleyball you have been playing with in the water, his eyes met yours.

Something about the way he looked at you made you feel vulnerable as if he could read you like a book. And of course, you didn’t know, he could. His eyes wandered, to your dark eyes, your long black hair that was neatly up in a bun, the small silver necklace you wore that had a small star engraved in it, to your blue bikini that matched the color of the water you were in. His color.

His grace flutters and so does his wings. A small yet deep sensation erupts inside of the brown-haired archangel as he looks at you. Your stare didn’t go unnoticed by him, he wasn’t sure why you would give him your attention, maybe you had a sixth sense that could detect supernatural beings, maybe you just found his vessel attractive, or maybe you were that something that was missing.

He could just look into your mind but what would be the purpose of that if you were just a mortal, after all, a lower being? But the feeling didn’t vanish, the feeling of want and need that he felt for the first time since his creation, something he shouldn’t feel.

At first he just wanted to take a walk, take a good look at Earth, the creation his father loved so much. Free time wasn’t something he had a lot when working and living with Sam and Dean in the bunker but when he did have it he tried to spend it wisely. Even if time was something that he had plenty enough of, in the long run that is, as an immortal being.

His feet moved on their own, going down the marble stairs where he had been stopping and walking closer to the beach, his wings folded neatly behind him as he moved.

At the same time, your movement changed too, your eyebrows raised as he came closer. Maybe he was one of your customers at the shop yet that couldn’t be since you remember every single one of your customer's faces or spiritual power. You excused yourself from your sisters, walking out of the water to the nearby beach shop that sold drinks and snacks. As you are about to enter his voice interrupts your busy mind that was occupied with finding out who he could be.

“You are different,” he said. The way he spoke made you shiver, cold and calculated yet so soft. Turning around to him your eyes wander from his sapphire eyes to his wings again. His eyes were fixated on you and as he noticed that your gaze wandered to the space behind him, to his muscles that were his pride and joy the corners of his lips slowly turned up and he gave you his hand to shake.

“My name is Michael,” he said now in a much gentler tone, warm and friendly. You shook his hand, not knowing the future you have been setting for yourself with that move, and answered

“Call me Cora”.

[followafallingstar]

You meet Michael again - Cordelia

Summary: The oldest archangel had been keeping a good eye on you the last few days, making sure you weren't in any trouble yet you popped up at the one place where he didn't want you. At the bunker. Pairing: Michael/female Reader, Michael/ Witch Disclaimer/ Trigger Warning: soulmate au, Stalking, Mention of stalking, invasion of privacy

Soulmate au: God created a soulmate for each one of his children. For angels finding their soulmate is one of the most honorable tasks they could achieve due to the amount of luck they must have since the soul of a human mate can be sent to earth at any time during the existence of humanity. But when an angel does meet their other half their loyalty to god switches to their mate, protecting them at all costs. Feelings such as love and lust are only acceptable and archivable for angels when they meet their soulmate and that only to the mate too so acts of unloyalty or cheating don’t exist in their world.

Tagged <3: @elf-punk

While he had found out by now that you are no ordinary human he had hoped that you were part of the people that studied magic out of curiosity and not a need to protect themselves. Well, he was wrong. Oddly he and Lucifer ended up being part of the Whinchster's little group since they started searching for his father causing him to permanently stay at the bunker.

While preparing for an upcoming hunt with the Winchesters, he noticed that the soft voice of the person on the other side of the bunker sounded too much like you. It had to be you. He immediately walked towards the direction, opened the door to the library, and interrupted the conversation that had been going on between you and Sam. "Cora?" he called your name. Your eyebrows shot up, remembering the voice of the man who had approached you a few days ago at the beach.

"Hello, Michael" You answer but not understanding why he was here or why exactly he looked so panicked. "How do you know Sam Winchester?" What an odd question considering you and your sisters have been in touch with the hunter brothers since the early stage of their little adventure of finding their father, sometimes helping each other out here and there. You weren't sure if you should tell him the truth considering you barely knew him and the fact that he dared to talk to you as if you owed him an answer. It made you feel like throwing a fireball right in his face, not that you knew that he was pretty much invisible and would a hundred percent correct you on your improper stance.

But considering he was with the boys you knew that he must be somewhat trustworthy you answer "We are friends". He didn't like the answer at all, companionship with the two was always bound to some trouble and anyone who is slightly involved with the brother's lives must have some kind of connection to the great plan of his father, and maybe it wasn't a coincidence that you were already linked into his path. There is just one thing that bugs him when he thinks about it: the danger. His life as a warrior had taught him many things and one of them is that the future he desired so much, the future with you, his true vessel Dean, and his father back in his life was something he would probably not get so easily. But there must be a reason why you suddenly popped up out of nowhere even though you were there the whole time, right under his nose.

After Sam's rough explanation of why you were involved with them, meaning trying to answer all of Michaels's annoying and creepy questions such as: Where have you met each other? What did you say to him? Why did you think it would be a good idea to even talk to them? Is your friendship on a physical contact basis? Why would you choose this kind of life when you could be…Safe? And even after answering all of them, surely not without raising Sam's suspicion on the archangel's sudden extreme interest in you, he was still convinced that it was his duty to make sure that not one hair would be plugged from your pretty little head.

Later on, he watched you silently as you laid the lilac potion that would help them in their next hunt, on the table with the instruction written neatly on a medium-sized paper. Your delicate hands wrapped around the pen as you added some notes to it and handed them to Michael. He inspected your handwriting, cursive, hard to read yet there was an organized aspect of it, as if you had written the words countless times over and over. "I will keep it safe" the blue feathered angel replied. As you were about to leave he added a few words "Cora, I want to know where I could find you. For the potions". Smooth. Indeed smooth. Of course, he knew where you lived and where he could find you but that doesn't mean he will risk you getting skeptical of his behavior if he starts appearing out of nowhere before your door. You should feel like it was your doing, free will, that was what every human wanted and even if it isn't what he knew is true, it doesn't mean he will destroy your dream. If you wanted it. He will give it to you.

"Here" you handed him a small teleportation rune drawn on a paper. He nodded, knowing that he would never use it but keep it close. One last smile was what you flashed him before disappearing before his eyes once again. He noticed that you have a habit of running away from him. That must be changed.