Laptop O Laptop >> Sam Winchester X Reader

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Title: Laptop O Laptop

Paring: Sam Winchester X Reader

Warnings: none. Gender neutral pronouns for the reader for all of you to enjoy ✌🏼️

Spoilers: consider this an AU where nobody has died. I've got references to Season 9 in here, so be careful my newer SPN fans xx

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Sam Winchester was not a disorganised kind of guy. At a glance, anyone knew it - he just seemed like the sort of person who folded their socks and kept their bookshelves alphabetised.

But those habits of his didn't explain his current problem: his laptop was missing.

The younger Winchester had turned his back on his beloved laptop for no more than ten minutes, when he went to research a handful of Men of Letters files. Only to find on his return that someone had  pulled a vanishing act on his beautiful laptop, charger, bag, - even the mouse _______ had given him as a present had gone.

Sam ran a hand through his luscious locks in an attempt to jerk him out of his bamboozled state. Was there a thief in the bunker? A ghost? A thieving ghost? He wasn't sure.

But he grabbed the salt just in case.

If he wasn't a hunter, either of the options would be ludicrous. There were only nine people in the bunker.  But there was only one way to find out - who took his adored laptop.

Sam marched toward his brother's room, his gigantic moose steps echoing around the bunker in his fury. How dare Dean just take his laptop! He could've asked first! Raising a hand to knock absurdly loudly to snap Dean out of whatever filthy uses he was using Sam's too good, too pure laptop.

But he stopped.

And frowned.

"Dr Sexy M. D.?" He whispered.

Because that's what he was hearing - a monologue from the doctor himself, through the door. Dean claimed a week ago that the $180 box set was a present for Bobby's birthday, when Sam had seen it in Dean's restocking of the supplies. But Sam knew one thing; if Dean was marathoning Dr Sexy, he was certain - it wasn't him who stole his great laptop.

Sam turned. And went to try a new angle.

In the dining room-turned-media room sat four of the greatest masterminds in both the human and supernatural worlds. Approaching them slowly not to interrupt their game of Mario Kart or tip them off he was onto them, Sam regarded them; a fiery red-head who swore in elvish, a mullet-headed blonde, a lithe English-swearing blonde and a dark haired prophet, who was smashing them all at the game.

"Ash? Jo? Charlie?" He gripped the couch in his mighty moose hands. "Kevin? Did any of you guys take my laptop?"

Ash paused the game, much to the chagrin of his opponents. "Wasn't me. I'd never nick your laptop. I've got my own."

Charlie whipped her head around to agree. "Same, Sam. Yours lags on Skype. Mine doesn't. Wouldn't take a laptop that's like that."

Sam turned to Kevin. "I'm too busy wiping the floor with these ones," he gestured his game controlled toward his friends, "Wasn't me. Although, yours has The Sims 4 -,"

Jo interrupted. "Have you tried the supreme deity of evil living in your basement?"

Ash frowned. "Dean called it a dungeon."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean will call anything a dungeon if he can," he explained. "I'll try Crowley. If you guys see anything..."

Charlie beamed. "We'll tell you. For sure. No doubt."

That's how he went to interrogate the demon who lived chained up in the back of the filing room. Sam wondered how many times Crowley had been interrogated by him, and if he'd be right that the King of Hell had stolen his cinnamon roll of a laptop.

As he opened the large doors, the little man capable of causing much pain spoke up. "Wasn't me, Moose," he chuckled, inspecting his nails as if he wasn't chained up like a hellhound.

"What?" Sam wondered.

"Simple spell I learned from Mummy dearest," he explained. "I can hear what's going on upstairs. So I'll say it again - I didn't take your precious laptop you love more than life." Crowley smiled. "If I did take it, I wouldn't be in here, would I?"

Sam couldn't battle that logic.

He huffed. "It was worth a shot."

Crowley agreed, and slowly furrowed his brow. "What is Squirrel watching?"

"Dr Sexy M. D." Sam answered, knowing the King of Hell had a soft spot for TV drama after his near-human experience. "And no, I will not let you watch it with him." And at that, the tallest Winchester closed the dungeon doors behind him, cutting off Crowley mid-plead.

Sam turned to make his way to the garage. He was sure to find Ellen there.

And he was right. There, under another 50's ring in Bobby had found for Ellen and Dean to do up in their own time was the mother of the hunters, and, Jo; Ellen.

"Heard you comin' a mile away with your big feet," she started, putting down a spanner. Scooting out from underneath on the skateboard she grinned. "What can I do you for?"

Sam sat on the ground. "You wouldn't have seen my laptop, have you?"

Ellen raised an eyebrow. "I've been under this one all morning, Sam. Wouldn't have any use for that laptop o' yours."

His face fell. Who had taken it?

"Have you checked _________? I've not seen them all day."

Sam paused. Something clicked in his mind. ________ did have an odd liking with his flawless laptop. And they hadn't been seen all day. And - Sam hid his laugh with a cough. Everyone he'd asked had pointed the finger to someone else, leaving _____ for last.

As if they knew.

As if ________ was the thief.

"I've got to go," he told Ellen.

In seconds, he's rushed back through the bunker, passed all the ex-suspects who watch knowingly, has forgotten how to knock, and barrels through the door of _________'s room.

They sit on the middle of the bed, Sam's missing laptop on their lap, huddled like a burrito under a mountain of blankets.

"You," he breathes.

"Sorry," ________ blurts, spinning the laptop so Sam can see what they've been doing. On the screen, he sees the screen from a website saying something had been paid for. "Is this the worst time to say I took your laptop to buy you a birthday present?"

Sam shakes his head. All that worry for his perfect laptop's vanishing act has gone, and suddenly, all he can see on the bed isn't a person, but someone who really cares for him. And it hits him, harder than that time Gabriel dressed up as the traditional Cupid and shot him: he loves you.

"You're so cute," he chuckles. His birthday isn't for another month and a half.

"Now you're here, want to watch something on this laptop together?" You invite him.

And that's how Sam finds himself later, snuggled up with you in the burrito of blankets, reunited with his laptop. And with someone he sees the sun within.

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