Yes, Dean Winchester can hold a grudge. Especially if it involves pie. Or, in Sam’s case, if it involves shopping at demon-infested diners, forgetting, ignoring, contaminating, pointing out possible poisonings, and otherwise maligning Dean’s request for said pie. For years, Dean has only asked Sam for one simple thing: don’t forget the pie. And when Sam finally remembers the pie, after twelve years of waiting, do you think Dean just forgets all the times he’s been denied his pie? No. It’s too little too late, Sammy.
Yes, Dean can hold a grudge. This level of betrayal is not something easily forgotten.
Of course he’s still holding a grudge. Wouldn’t you?
Bonus: Kevin is in cahoots with Sam.
Bonus Bonus: Charlie too, even if she pretends not to be.
Triple Bonus: Cas tries to get Dean pie, but in the end he fails too. Coincidence? I think not.
Monster Bonus: If a zombie can make sure Dean gets his pie, it really can’t be that difficult, Sam.
Twice. He ate two of the zombie pies.
Missing Mom Bonus: She’s been gone for thirty years, but even Mary knows you gotta get Dean the pie.
You keep holding that grudge, Dean. When it comes to pie, Sam’s failed you too many times.
He is doing really good, only the speed is a thing we must work on.
I am really so proud that he does not chew when he holds the dumbbell or let it fall.
Sammy, your human is so proud.
The next step will be a hurdle (jumping over it, take it, jump back and into heel start position).
Sam peered past the peeled back curtains, expecting you any minute now for your weekly lesson. He was always anxious when it came to seeing you, when it came to doing anything with you really. He usually spent the minutes that you spend walking to the Holland by paces the length of his livingroom, Tom watching as he did so. Sam’s actions made him nervous and antsy, especially because he knew why Sam was being so anxious.
“Would you calm the fuck down, mate? It’s just (y/n).” Tom said as he looked up from the script he was trying to memorize. Sam peered through the window once more before looking over at Tom, a deep blush cascading down his cheeks. Sam stood up a little straighter and walked into the kitchen, preparing to make you tea for your lesson, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I think you do.” Tom said as he got up from his seat, taking his own look out the window before following Sam into the kitchen. Tom leaned on the counter across from Sam, crossing his arms over his torso and smirking at Sam lightly. Tom looked down at the ground while shaking his head before looking back up at Sam, “Why don’t you just go ahead and ask her out?”
Sam looked at Tom, absolutely flabbergasted. He rose his eyebrows as he looked at Tom’s shit eating smirk, “I can’t just-just ask her out! That’s absurd, I don’t like (y/n) like that anyways.” Tom laughed out loud at that, moving around Sam to finish the tea up for him, but Sam stepped in front of him, “You don’t know how she likes her tea.” He wouldn’t meet Tom’s eyes after he said that, because when the words came out of his mouth, he noticed how his words sounded.
Tom scoffed at Sam, moving back to his spot on the counter, “Come on, every time she gets here you literally freak out. You can’t control those pink cheeks of yours, and you can barely control your eyes when it comes to watching her. And don’t get me started on that dinner last week.”
Sam finished pouring the hot water into the two mugs before turning to Tom. He looked up at him through his eyelashes before moving towards the fridge in search of cream, “Have you seen the cream? And could you get the sugar for me?” Tom rolled his eyes as he grabbed the cubes of sugar from the cupboard, “ Don’t change the subject.”
“I don’t even stand a chance, I bet there are tons of blokes out there that are killing to be with her…You included…” Tom stopped his actions when Sam turned to face him, his weary eyes meeting Tom’s softly. Tom just stared at Sam’s freckled face, guilt washing over him.
“I-I didn’t mean to ease drop b-but my window was open and I heard everything. I-I heard what you said to h-her. Another lifetime, eh?” Sam’s cheeks turned into a small smile, looking at Tom with worried eyes. Tom set the cubes down by the two mugs as Sam walked over.
“I know how much you l-like (y/n)…And I would never try to compete with you, b-because she likes you mate…She really likes you, and she didn’t even…she didn’t even bat an eyelash at me.” Sam’s eyes lit up as he looked over at Tom, “The whole ‘Spider-Man Card’ doesn’t work on everyone…” Sam and Tom both chuckled together, Tom’s hand coming to pat Sam on the back.
“You ask her out tonight, or I’m doing it.” Sam rolled his eyes, “Like you could compete with me?” He questioned his older brother, who only chuckled at him before moving back to his script. And as soon as Tom sat down, the door bell rang, signaling that you were waiting patiently at the door. Sam rushed towards the front door, and opening it to see your warm smile which he returned as you walked in. You shrugged off your coat and scarf like you usually did, Sam taking both and hanging them before taking your arms and wrapping them around his torso for you. You snuggled your cold face into his chest, his warm sweater scratching against your cheek smoothly. You hummed in gratitude before pulling back and letting his hands warm up your arms.
“Hello, love.” Sam said as he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, the damp snow melting against his finger. You giggled at him, your smiling eyes looking to meet him, your arms still wrapped around him as you look up at the taller Holland.
“How are you today, darling?” You questioned as you peered up at him with doe like eyes. He smiled down at you, his freckles dancing across his cheeks as he looked down at you, “Wonderful.”
You smiled as you walked away from his arms, and into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind you. Your hands hooked onto the mugs, and you looked at Sam before heading to the music room, throwing a smile over your shoulder at him. He sent one to your back as he walked closely behind you, never paying any mind to the man who sat on the couch, his eyes following the two of your closely.
“You won’t be laughing when I can play this song as well as you!” You laughed out as you playfully hit Sam as he chuckled at you, sliding off the bench and onto his feet as you hit him. You nodded your head in a posh manner, moving your hands back to the keys to start the song over.
You had almost been done when Sam began to point out you posture flaws, using his hands to reach around you and tickle at your waist, becoming bored with simply sitting there. You were doing everything right, and he couldn’t stand to keep his hands off of you for too long. He huffed as he watched you begin to play the five minute piece over again, you sending him a small smirk. He, once again, sat beside you and just watched. He watched your small fingers lay themselves over the white and black keys, he watched your eyebrows scrunch in frustration as your pinky stretched to touch the key smoothly, finally pushing it down leaving you with a smile of triumph.
When you finished the full length of the song, you put your hand in your lap, just the way Sam had done when he had finished the song for you all those weeks back. You looked up at him with hooded eyes, your lashes meeting your cheeks and back up to show your (y/e/c) eyes. He smiled at your proudly, his smile softening ever so softly.
“I finished.” You said as you leaned closer to his freckled face, he nodded as he did the same. He moved an arm between the two of you, holding onto the back of the piano bench, making it easier for him to lean into you, “Yes you did, and it was beautiful, darling.”
You blushed as you looked down at the hand between the two of you, your eyes darting back up to his, “Sam?” You questioned hopefully. His doe eyes came up to meet yours, a confidence washing over his usually nervous eyes.
“Yes, love?” His eyes met yours, looking at them intently before flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. You felt a blush paint over your cheeks, Sam smiled at that. He smiled at the way he made you feel, and he almost prided himself in the fact that he could make you feel this way. Nervous, anxious, and loved.
“Will you kiss me?” Your innocent voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled goofily as he leaned in, using his other hand to move his hand over your cheek and into your glossy hair.
“You don’t have to ask me twice, darling.” He pulled your lips to meet his, taking you in with a deep inhale. His hand on the bench, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. One of your hands on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder, holding him close. You smiled when he pulled back slightly, biting your lip softly as you looked at his freckles up close and personal. And with that look, he pulled you in for another one and another one and another one.
Kiss Sam was like making music. His lips tasted of the Earl Grey that the two of you had just finished, and his movements were like his fingers dancing on the keys of a piano. His sent was like a sweet musk, with a hint of cinnamon and sugar. His body felt like your favorite warm blanket, wrapped around you and consuming you in it’s arms. His hands in your hair were as soft as his kisses, but just as urgent as them as well. Like he had been waiting his whole life just to kiss you.
Sammy had a fan. This in itself wasn’t all that unusual. Sammy got a lot of letters from aspiring musicians saying how they enjoyed the music he composed. But this was different. This time the fan was a little girl who wanted to compose music like Sammy someday. It was the cutest thing any of them had ever seen because almost no one had ever approached Sammy in such a way. Everyone in the studio assumed he was terrible with children due to his…well….everything. His other fan letters were formal, poised, every pen stroke thought out in advance. The little girl’s letters were a little messy, a bit crude, and usually included little tunes she’d thought up. At first, Sammy had hidden the letters, but the curiosity of his coworkers had gotten the better of him.
“So a little girl just wrote to you?” Joey asked, looking at Sammy. “That’s so cute! You’re her role model!”
“Who would’ve thought you’d be good with children.” Henry laughed and shook his head.
“I’m regretting showing you the letters.” Sammy groaned, slamming his head onto the desk. “Look, it’s not a big deal. We get fan letters all the time.”
“Yeah, but you never get any from kids!” Boris said, tail wagging. “This is amazing!” Sammy groaned louder.
“It is really sweet.” Alice said. “What’s her name again?”
“Cordelia Bell. She draws little bells next to her name.” Sammy lifted his head to point at the little bells right next to Cordelia’s scribbled name.
“That’s so %$#@ing cute I can’t even take it.” Bendy said, holding the letter up. “You’ve been writing back to her?”
“……Yes.” Sammy mumbled, head on the desk again.
“Attaboy!” Joey slapped his back. “Maybe more people will like you this way!”
“I don’t care about people liking me.” Sammy gestured vaguely with one free hand. “You all should know that.”
“Obviously you care about this girl liking you.” Alice said, leaning on Sammy’s shoulder.
“Always good to know your black little heart is still working.” Bendy slapped Sammy’s back as well.
“She’s ten. I’m not gonna break her heart.” Sammy said. “I’m not that evil.”
“Still, good job.” Henry said, leaning against the door. “It’s really sweet to know you’ve got a little fan.” Sammy muttered something that was probably supposed to be rude, snatching the letters back from the rest of the staff. He was smiling a little as he shooed them out, looking down at the letters. He kept writing the little girl, continuing to encourage her down on her path. To see someone else so dedicated to music, it warmed his heart. He liked corresponding with her, remembering when the world had been new and possibilities had been endless. Years later he got a knock on his door.
“I’m busy. Go away.” He said, chewing vigorously on his cigarette.
“Mr. Lawrence?” A young woman’s voice came from just outside his office.
“What?” He turned around, glowering at the girl standing in the doorway. The girl’s face lit up. She was clutching a clipboard to her chest. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before.
“My name is Cordelia Bell. You probably don’t remember me, but I remember you.” She said. “I’m going to be working under you from today on.”
Sammy: ….Yes…When the ink took him he stumbled around here looking for someone or something. He pulled and dug at the projector on his head, trying desperately to remove it….But the ink is very persistent.
Henry: That’s ….sad
Sammy: The sad thing is he is unable to talk now. Sometimes I can see him walking around with ink dripping from the projectors lens, almost like he’s crying.
Sam is feeling embarrassed and frustrated so Y/N helps him out.
it’s short but it does go in to quite a bit of detail for what it is.
fuck’s sake!” Sam yelled from across the table, slamming his laptop closed and
hitting his fist off of the table. You could see that your boyfriend was
stressed out and you knew why; both of you were struggling to find any lore
that would help you with your case, even though you had been looking for at
least 3 hours now.