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sammysmaddy · 3 months
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Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Four
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Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.
Characters: John x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Sister!Reader, OFC!Shauna x Dean, OFC!Sophia x Reader
Warnings: incest, sistercest, daughtercest, girls kissing girls, angry!/drunk!john, needy!Dean, drugs, alcohol, angst, hair pulling (more like physical abuse), Daddy kink I guess, a bit of degradation, manipulation, crying, praise kink, oral
W/C: 5.9k+
A/N: Merry Christmas to my followers who celebrate! Happy Holidays to everyone and I hope to be posting more!
Normal Masterlist
Masterlist
With John recently deciding that Sam was old enough to go on larger hunts with him, that meant much more time with Dean. They were off again after John came home after a few hours because he had decided that he needed to make things right with Sam. 
John had finally realized that it wasn't his or Sam's fault that Sam got hurt, but John just reacted that way because he didn't like to see any of his children busted up. 
You, being stuck at home with Dean, had been eating a lot of pizza, drinking a lot of beer, and waking up in his arms every morning. Things seemed normal again, Dean acted like he hadn't done anything, and you spent many hours out of the day thinking about how to bring it up with him. 
What if he didn't bring it up because it was a one-time thing and he was drunk? What if he didn't have those kinds of feelings for you?  It hurt for you to think that way, but you needed to be prepared in case he didn't see you the same way that you saw him. 
Plus, maybe he didn't even know what you were capable of. Maybe he didn't know that you had done sexual things before and that you weren't innocent. 
It was a Friday night in a random city in Wisconsin, your family seemed to go there a lot for hunts, and it was disgustingly cold outside. Still, it was your idea when you said you wanted to go to a party. 
You weren't exactly a people person and Dean was the only one who would entertain the idea of going out and being social, so you knew when John and Sam left earlier this week that this would be your opportunity. 
This time though, you came prepared. You planned on making your own drinks, staying away from trouble, and focusing on having a good time. 
Though the last party was fun because you talked about random books and old movies that would bore any regular human, things went downhill before you even knew it. This time, you were determined to do it right.
Things were already turning out much better, with no Jordan's anywhere to be seen. The party was much less dark and colorful than the last because people seemed to be more focused on being able to talk rather than dance. This party setting made you feel much more comfortable. 
Maybe it had to do with the fact that there were more clouds of marijuana than red solo cups filled with vodka, but it didn't matter- you were happy. The only bad thing about the atmosphere was the smell itself, John nor your brothers had ever shown an interest in it so it was a little bit offensive to your palette. 
It was good to get a change of pace. The music wasn't playing so loud that you had to yell in order to have a conversation, you didn't get weird looks every time you brushed past someone, and above all, everyone seemed to be happy. Except Dean. 
Dean hardly left your side, still causally flirting with any woman in close proximity, but he wouldn't leave you alone for more than two minutes at a time. 
The women were different here, more sophisticated and graceful, and while Dean tried his best, he just couldn't connect with them like usual. You wondered if Dean was scared that he was losing his spark, the idea delightfully playing around in your mind, but Dean kept trying- one girl after another after another. 
It was a delicacy to watch, having to see Dean try so hard when really people here only seemed to be attracted by intelligence. He had never had to try hard at anything in his life, school- he didn't care about, hunting- naturally talented, girls- easy, it was strangely satisfying. 
For someone with such a strong God complex, Dean should be having dazed girls lined down the hall just to hear him talk about himself. You almost felt guilty watching Dean struggle so hard. Half of the time he couldn't keep up with the random philosophical conversations anyway, but it was fun watching him bullshit his way through before ultimately becoming disinterested. 
That's why when Shauna, a beautiful curly-haired brunette, came around and offered Dean some attention, you finally felt him peel away from your side. You saw the light in his eyes that had been dimming throughout the night brighten, and you slowly faded into the background as he worked his magic. 
Now, it was time to focus on yourself. You smiled at people who smiled at you as you made your way to the kitchen, making yourself a drink to keep the happy buzz coursing through your veins. 
The red solo cup in your hand felt whole again, filled to the brim with very diluted alcohol so that you could keep your cool, and things seemed to be turning out great for both you and Dean. 
Although you still had to go out and talk to people- something you're not extremely experienced with, you were excited to. 
You had met a handful of people in your life, most, if not all, were disposable and never seen again, but you never really had any true friends. Sam was your best friend, of course, but you knew it wasn't really the same. 
You didn't even really know where to begin. Some people seemed too entranced by their partners, some smiled down at their phones, and some just had resting bitch face on full display. 
It began to feel a little lonely, your eyes occasionally glancing at Dean across the room, but you tried your best just to enjoy the time out of the motel. And even though you were alone in your head, you were most certainly not truly alone. 
You were content, happy to see other people being happy regardless of whether or not it was with you. This was what life was like without constant intrusion from your family and it granted you a sort of freedom, a freedom you hadn't realized you craved until tonight. 
When you and Sam were young, you would often dream of a life out of a motel. With Mary dying on your six-month birthday and John going insane trying to avenge her death, the only thing you and Sam had, apart from Dean, was imagination. 
You used to dream of one day growing old and staying best friends with Sam until you died, moving to Hawaii or back 'home' to Kansas, or maybe even getting a real job someday. 
The both of you understood that it didn't exactly sound glamorous, like becoming famous or having tons of money, but anything beat the Hunter's life. It was a dead-end road, full of misery and hatred for every living thing on Earth, and a part of you thanked John for keeping you away from it as much as possible.
But you couldn't help but feel stuck. What else to life was there other than living in motels and killing bad guys? You wouldn't know, much less ever get the chance to figure it out. 
But, you were far from unhappy. You were surrounded by people you loved and while times would get rough, John would get drunk, the credit cards would fail at the restaurants, or one of the boys would come home wounded, you all made it work. 
You had an unbreakable bond with Sam, a wild side that Dean helped to bring out, and an undying loyalty for family because of John. Things could always be much worse than they are. 
"You know, for someone watching your boyfriend with another girl, you don't seem to be too upset," A random voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head turned to look at the girl standing next to you, she reached out her hand to greet you, "Sophia."
"Y/N," You greeted back, shaking her soft but firm hand. 
It took you a little longer to respond, she had beautiful feminine features but she was assertive and reminded you of John. You almost felt bad for trying to read her like a book, there was such a strange energy that surrounded her. 
"A fan of voyeurism, are we?" Sophia chuckled, giving you a small smirk, and your eyebrows raised.
"Of what?" You asked and she laughed a little louder. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that is." You laughed lightly, trying to understand the strange word, and she gave you a teeth-filled smile.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. That is your boyfriend, right?" She asked with her eyebrow raised, a concerned, but cocky, look on her face.
"No, he's not my boyfriend," You blushed at the question and she gave you a small smile.
"Well, you seem to like him a lot. Maybe you should just ask him out sometime." She encouraged, nudging you with her elbow lightly. 
"It's really not like that," You laughed awkwardly and she raised her eyebrows up and down to say that she wasn't a firm believer in your statement. 
"Right, it's not like you're practically eye-fucking him while he talks to my girlfriend Shauna." She scoffed and you tilted your head. 
You were just happy that Dean was happy, no eye-fucking involved. 
"She's your friend? She's really pretty," You told her and she shook her head.
"Girlfriend. Open relationship, I kind of figured that's how you guys were too. I mean, he's barely left your side the entire night." She corrected, pointing out why she had her assumptions. 
You frowned, are you supposed to be upset that Dean's with another girl? Are you supposed to be feeling jealous that it's not you? 
"Are you ever jealous?" You asked out of curiosity, the idea of an 'open relationship' new to your mind. 
It was strange at first glance, but the more thought that was put in, the more it was intriguing. Not that you had an official partner in the first place. 
"Not really. She picks out the scumbags, no offense, fucks them, and then comes home to tell me all about it," She tells you honestly, a smile plastered on her face. 
She reminds you of Sam, he always loved hearing about the aftermath of your night out with John. 
"Plus, she's usually unsatisfied and girls do it much better." She added in a whisper, a smooth wink following behind. 
"I'm sure they do," You replied, fighting back a blush that you quickly deduced and blamed on alcohol. 
"You ever been with a girl, Y/N?" Sophia asked, licking her lips as the question concluded and you found yourself staring. 
"No, um, I've never really thought about it," You said, almost stuttering your way through. 
Surely the alcohol had to do with the way you were feeling, but all-in-all, she was attractive and there was no denying it. You'd seen girl-on-girl porn, almost a preferable choice because they always seemed to enjoy themselves a little bit more, but it wasn't ever something that crossed your mind. 
Now, there was an undeniably hot girl in front of you talking about sexuality, it was all a little confusing. 
"I'm not a psychic, but something tells me you're curious," She smirked, and your mouth opened to reply but nothing came out. 
Sophia's hands landed on the collar of your jacket, straightening it, which made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 
"Relax, I'm not gonna bite unless you want me to," She chuckled and you began to realize that your knuckles were turning white from holding your hands together so tightly.
You didn't know whether you wanted Dean to look over at you when she planted her mouth on yours or not. Her lips were much softer and fuller than either John's or Sam's and she tasted much sweeter too, it was a nice change of pace. 
She was much more pushy than what you were used to, guiding the pace and expecting you to match, and it wasn't long until the thoughts started to flood your mind. 
Would Dean look over and notice? Would he be upset? Would he be excited? Would he even care? You wanted him to. 
If you were supposed to be jealous that he was with another girl, you wanted him to be jealous that you were too. 
Sophia's chin was smooth with no traces of stubble like you normally felt. Her hands were soft as they cupped your cheek, her teeth nibbled at your bottom lip in the softest way possible, and her smell- God, she smelt so good. 
It was much different than the 3-in-1 body wash that the boys used because she smelt like she actually took care of herself. She smelled of flowers, but not like the old-lady type of perfume, she smelled soft and delicate and that was the only thing you could think of. 
Sophia's fingernails lightly scraped against your cheeks when they made their way into your hair, and when you gasped she smiled into your mouth. It was evident that she knew what she was doing and you didn't think twice about letting her... whatever it led up to. 
Maybe it was the thrill of being seen by Dean or the fact that it was new and exciting. Feeling soft and delicate fingers roaming through your hair was something you could get used to. Or maybe it was the alcohol, you weren't exactly sober- but you were still in the right mind to make good decisions, even if you were more inclined to try new things. 
You had never been with a girl, you had never even really had friends that were girls. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, envied that she had such confidence and charisma, or if you were actually attracted to her. She was beautiful and if you really took the time to think about it- the wetness growing in between your legs answered your question. 
It wasn't long before you got lost in her trance, the quiet music almost seemed silent as you could only hear her lips moving with yours. The lights seemed to dim as your eyes stayed closed because all you did was focus on her. 
Then, everything was moving so fast, one second you were in the middle of someone's living room and then you were pressed against the wall in the hallway. Your head was spinning and your neck craned upwards to kiss the lips attacking yours and when you heard him growl into your mouth, that's when you knew he had been watching for quite some time.
Dean had his hands lightly wrapped around the sides of your neck, pulling you closer to him but still pinning you against the wall with his body. Your hands gripped onto his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, and the thoughts of Sophia quickly faded into nothing. 
Dean was hungry for you, moving his lips as if he were attempting to tear them off, kissing all over your neck and not caring about whether he left marks, pushing into your body so hard that you could barely breathe.
His tongue was all over the place, your cheeks, your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your chest, and you wanted to feel it everywhere. His teeth nipped anywhere his lips went, leaving you a whimpering mess as you let him do whatever he pleased.
When Dean's lips reconnected with yours, you could taste the whiskey in his breath and smell the cologne he had doused himself in before you left the motel. Kissing him made you feel even more tipsy than before. He was more needy than Sam ever was, more attentive than John, and he seemed to be a perfect combination of all of their best qualities. 
"This is wrong," Dean whispered into your mouth, but before you could question why he was all over you again. 
Dean's hands trailed down your body as yours found their place in his hair, gripping lightly and pulling him in closer as he moaned into your mouth. There were practically no breaks in between each kiss, leaving the both of you panting, but neither of you seemed to care. 
Dean took a step back, gripping tightly onto your waist as he pulled you closer to him and you could no longer feel the warm wall against your back. 
He hadn't said any other words to you, but his actions were more than enough to tell you what he really wanted. You knew that Dean was bold, but you figured that there would be some sort of build-up for the two of you. Maybe some innocent flirting that would progress into sexual innuendos directed at one another, maybe some touching brushed off as accidental, that's what he always did with his hook-ups. 
With you it was different, he skipped all of the formalities and went straight into the good part, and you didn't mind whatsoever.
But, as the touching progressed into squeezing and digging his fingers into your skin, your mind wandered to other places. Why did he say it was wrong? Were you not good enough for him? He was all over you, that couldn't be true. Was he drunk? Was that the reason that kissing you was wrong? 
Maybe he meant that you were wrong for each other, John always said that this stuff shouldn't happen with anyone else. He always said that nobody could ever love you enough to touch you the way that he did. But you loved Dean and you knew that he loved you, why was he not good enough? Why was it wrong?
You hadn't even noticed someone was talking to the both of you until he pulled his lips back to mutter an answer, "I'm busy, man. Get out of here." Dean said aloud and before you had the chance to look over, his lips were on yours again and his body was pressed against you. 
"Dean, what the hell are you doing? Are you even listening?" That you heard. 
This time, the voice was easily recognizable, it was Sammy. Your cheeks flushed red when Dean pulled back, his eyes were wide and filled with dread to which you furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, asking yourself why. 
"Sam, look, I- It's not what it looks like," Dean struggled to get out, letting his hands loosen around your waist and raise in the air in defense. 
It was easy to tell that Dean had no idea that Sam wouldn't mind and that he was most likely trying to come up with a viable explanation for kissing you. You backed up a little, giving Sam a small smile when he looked at you, indicating that you were right about Dean.
"Dude, I'm not- um, it's just that Dad's outside and he's threatening to call the cops and we got to go," Sam replied hastily.
You smiled to yourself, knowing that Sam was most likely fighting his own arousal, but then you frowned at the thought of John. Outside. Waiting. Knowing that you were here. A party. With drugs and alcohol. 
John was not going to be very happy with you and you felt your face growing pale with anxiety. 
"Let's go, Y/N," Dean said gruffly, grabbing your arm tightly and dragging you through the small crowd. 
You fought Dean's grip a little, dreading the thought of John being upset with you, but you let him lead you toward the front. Your head was still spinning, trying to understand how you were watching Dean with Shauna, having a conversation with Sophia, which led up to making out with her. Then you were pressed against the wall by your big brother, and now your twin was leading you outside to see your, most likely, very angry father. 
When the cold, crisp air nearly froze your lungs as you stepped outside, you saw John waiting for the three of you. John was pissed, he was clenching his fists as he advanced towards all of you. 
You expected him to grab you by the hair, drag you to the car, and not even let you explain yourself, but he went straight for Dean. 
"What the hell were you thinking, son?!" John practically screamed, grabbing fistfuls of Dean's leather jacket. 
"Dad, I-I go to parties all of the time, I don't understand," Dean gulped so hard that you could see his Adam's apple gliding up and down his throat. He was nervous, stuttering, and grabbing onto John's wrists to stop him from doing anything more than grabbing his jacket. 
"Not with Y/N. Do you understand me?" John growled, letting go of the jacket and roughly pushing Dean back. 
Dean stumbled, barely keeping himself standing, and you could see Dean's eyes that were filled with fear. The same expression appeared on your face when John turned his body in your direction. 
"Get in the truck, I need to talk to you," John demanded, pointing his shaking finger toward you. 
You gulped, much like Dean, and nodded your head, deciding that there was no point in protesting. 
"Sammy, drive Dean home. No but's, Dean. Obviously, you aren't capable of good decisions, why should I let you drive my car?" John said and you turned around so quickly that you didn't have time to wait around to watch Dean's reaction.
Your feet scrambled towards the truck. When you began to climb in, you turned to close the door but John slammed it behind you, making you jump in your seat. Your eyes found the phone that was lit up on the middle seat, showing your exact location and you knew that was definitely how he found you. 
Then you saw the empty bottle of whiskey and you knew it wasn't Sam's, John was drunk... again, which wasn't surprising. 
You decided to look straight ahead and try your best to avoid his gaze, but you knew that something needed to be said to de-escalate your father.
"Daddy, I-" You began before being cut off immediately.
"Shut it. How long have you been partying?" John's voice boomed through the cab of the car. 
You shook your head, tears freely falling down your cheeks. You hated when he was angry with you, it was the worst feeling in the world. 
"I'm sorry. I convinced Dean to take me with him," You told him in a choked sob, scared of how he might react. 
John furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over and gripping your chin tightly in between his fingers, the new pressure causing you to wince. 
"Did you smoke tonight? You smell like you did," He asked through grit teeth and your head shook side to side as best as it could. "Did you drink?" He questioned again and you nodded your head cautiously. 
You couldn't lie to him, your head was spinning. 
"Are you fucking stupid, Y/N? Where was Dean?" John growled, letting go of your chin and your head felt weak. 
"He was- He was with me the entire time," You struggled to get out yet again, and his jaw tensed. Your eyes traveled to his jaw, looking back up into eyes that were nearly black.
"You're lying to me. I don't like liars, Y/N," He said callously and you shook your head in defiance, he was with you for the most part- that isn't lying. 
"Daddy, I'm not lying, I swear," You cried, feeling his hand in your hair as it lifted your chin toward the ceiling. His rough, calloused fingers traced over your neck, an unappreciative grunt leaving his throat.
"Who did this to you?" He growled, pinching the skin at your neck and you could feel yourself panicking. 
You couldn't tell him it was Dean, he would literally kill your older brother if he knew. 
"Answer me." He demanded, pinching harder and making you whimper in pain. 
"A- A girl. It was a girl," You told him, the only person you could think of being Sophia. 
Your eyes stayed focused on the ceiling as you felt his grip on your hair loosen, eyebrows creasing as you heard him chuckle deeply. It was the most terrifying laugh you had ever heard.
"A girl?" John asked, his breath hitting right behind your ear as he moved closer to you. 
The whiskey in his breath was prominent, but it was so normal that it almost felt refreshing. You whimpered when he tugged on your hair again, resting his left hand on your thigh. 
"When will you realize that you're mine, hm?" His intense growl made your breath hitch, sending shivers down your spine. "Nobody can touch you, do you understand me? I'm the only one who loves you enough, baby." He said in a softer tone, using the hand resting on your thigh to pull your legs apart from one another. 
"I know," You croaked, feeling the way his fingers were rubbing circles on top of your jeans.
John's hand trailed higher, gripping tightly onto your inner thigh, "Did she touch you there, princess?" He whispered, stopping just before your heat and you felt the wetness growing in between your legs. 
"No, Daddy," You answered solidly and he chuckled deeply into your ear. His hand lingered there and you moved around a bit to feel something.
"But you kissed her?" He asked, hand gripping tightly onto your thigh, and you nodded your head. "Did you want her to touch you there?" He asked, almost teasingly as his fingers magically inched up higher. 
"Yes, I did. I'm sorry," You told him, sudden guilt filling your stomach. 
You knew that he was the only one who loved you enough. You weren't supposed to do those kinds of things with people you didn't love. But Dean did it all the time. What made you different? Maybe he just didn't want you to- maybe this was just as wrong as kissing Dean. 
"It's okay, baby, but it can't happen again. You promise?" John asked, pressing a sloppy kiss into your neck. 
"I promise," You told him.
"What's wrong?" John asked, and at this point, you were squirming around in your seat. "Want me to touch you, hm?" He questioned again, ghosting his fingers above your heat through your jeans. Y
ou nodded your head, despite the tight hold he had on your hair. 
"Too bad. Bad girls don't get rewarded." John teased you, chuckling lowly as his hand left your thigh. 
You let out a whimper, needing now more than ever to be touched. 
"But, maybe you can make it up to me." He said, placing his lips just below your ear and nipping at the skin. 
You nodded your head, ready to do anything for him if it meant that you could get off tonight. 
"You know what to do, don't you, baby girl?" He asked, letting go of your hair and his hands came down and thumbed his jeans open. 
You gave him a small smile, letting your tears die down and dry on your cheeks, and turned towards him. He shifted his body so that his back was placed against the car door, pushing his jeans completely off, and placing one foot on the floor while the other stayed on the seat. 
Normally, this would happen in the back seat, but John seemed a little too eager tonight. You took your position, lying flat on your stomach, and propping yourself on your elbows as you looked up at him through your lashes. He swiped the hair out of your face, giving you a smile, and your fingernails dipped into the waistband of his boxers.
"Wait, baby," John stopped you, holding onto your hands that were about to pull down his boxers. "I wanna try something new, is that okay?" He asks and your brows furrowed, what haven't you learned by now? 
John shifted so that he was lying flat and you were sitting on top of him, not sure exactly what to do. 
"I want you to suck my cock while I eat you out." He said, pushing the jacket off of your shoulders. 
You wiggled it off, leaving your shirt on like he did, and his fingers came up and undid your jeans' button. 
"Daddy, I thought you said-" You began to say, feeling the guilt weighing in from doing something that he disapproved of.
"I know, baby, but you know I can't stay mad at you for very long," He cut you off, shh-ing you by pulling you by your neck and bringing you into a deep and passionate kiss. 
Your hips slid down his abdomen, your heat rubbing against his hard-on, making him moan into your mouth. His tongue explored and his teeth bit your bottom lip, extracting a moan of your own. 
As much as you loved kissing Dean tonight, or Sammy in the showers you took, John knew everything that you liked. He knew exactly how to get you going. 
"Daddy, I can't wait, I need you," You told him, desperately trying to get your release, edging yourself closer and closer as you rubbed against his erection. "I want to please you too." You compromised, knowing that he probably couldn't wait much longer either. 
"Alright, Y/N, take your clothes off," He broke the kiss, pulling at the hem of your T-shirt. 
You continued to sit on top of him, pulling your shirt over the top of your head and discarding it on the ground. A small moan left your lips when his hands came up to cup your breasts through your bra, kneading and massaging the delicate skin. 
John's hands reached around, undoing the clasp of your simple bra and guiding the fabric down your shoulders until it was on the ground. You dipped your head down to kiss him again, relishing the way your hard nipples feel against his chest, and using your hips to grind against him again. 
After a few, all too short, seconds you pulled up, working on getting your jeans off. John sat up, giving you space to do so, and discarded his own shirt, lying back down as you met him with your lips again. 
His hands roamed all over your backside, squeezing your ass and rutting his hips into you which made you gasp. He was fully hard and you could tell without having to look, he was just as desperate as you were to feel something. 
His hands slid down your waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake, pulling your panties down your thighs. He moaned into your mouth, presumably feeling your excitement, and helped you get your clothes off entirely. 
Then, he reached down and shimmied off his own boxers, continuing to kiss you as you felt his hardened cock against your core- wishing that he would give up his stupid wish of making it perfect and fuck you already, but you'll take what you can get. 
"Baby, turn around and let me taste you," John moaned into your mouth and you gave him one last peck before lifting up. 
If it were any other day, you would sit on his face as he gripped your hips, but he specifically said that he wanted his dick sucked while he ate you out- and only one position made sense. You situated yourself, both knees on either side of his head and your mouth just above his cock. 
You squealed when you felt his large hands pull you by your hips and guide you down to his face, the immediate lick on your clit almost enough to make you cum. You moaned as he began to attack you with his mouth and you took him in your hand, pumping him and rubbing your thumb over the precum that had already leaked out. 
John hummed into your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking and nibbling at the nub that had been calling his name all night. 
You lowered your mouth, almost unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure he was giving you, and you wrapped your lips around the glistening tip of his cock. This made him moan more into your core, encouraging you to keep doing what you're doing, so you did. 
You swallowed him down as much as you could, your lips like a vacuum as you pulled up and felt him leave your mouth with a loud 'pop'. 
It was almost a tradition to start out that way, taking him once entirely before sucking him down over and over until you couldn't breathe anymore. You were close to gagging, so close to almost fitting him all the way in, as your head bobbed up and down on his cock. 
John was dipping his tongue inside of you, going back and forth between that and sucking your clit, occasionally making obscene noises as he kitten-licked your sweet spot over and over. 
"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so good," He muttered into you, almost inaudibly, before he dove into your heat again. The praise made you want to cum all over his tongue and paint him with your juices, but even more so- it made you want to please him. 
He was using his hands to spread you apart, licking the very depth of you and coercing the familiar pit in your stomach to grow. You continued to swallow him down, warm and wet sloshing noises filling up the cabin of the truck. 
You could feel him twitch in your mouth, indicating that he was getting close. At the same time, his hands were pulling you closer to his face, making you wonder how the hell he was breathing. It felt like a race to see who came first. 
At first, his hips slowly raised so that he filled your mouth perfectly, then, he started to go faster, fucking into your mouth as he held you down. Your lips stayed sealed around him, feeling the way he hit the back of your throat and threatened to make you gag around him.
You then gathered the courage to hold him down like he was holding you. His hips stayed glued to the seat as you held him down with your hands, sucking him down with more purpose than ever before. 
His tongue was working wonders on your clit, kissing, nibbling, and sucking, and the vibrations from his groans were making your orgasm much closer. He twitched in your mouth again and you didn't dare to go up for air, you were determined to win the race. 
Your hand worked whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth, your tongue focusing on the tip which made him cry into your heat. 
Soon enough, he was cumming white, hot, and salty into your mouth, pleasing you so much that you came on his tongue as you ground on his mouth. Your hips were stuttering and you were practically screaming around him, feeling as your legs shook around his head. You swallowed him down, collecting all of your gift, as he continued to attack your soaking slit.
After a few minutes, you were both completely out of breath, fully dressed in the front seat, and having your after-pleasure-make-out-session. You could taste yourself on his tongue and he could taste himself on yours. Everything was perfect. 
Maybe you should get in trouble more often. 
"Do you really think you're ready?" John asked breathlessly, pulling back from your lips and giving you a small smile. 
"I've been ready for a long time, Daddy," You gave him a smile in return, your cheeks blushing harder at the thought of finally going all the way.
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@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger @deans-number-one-fan
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
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Too Close (Absent Sequel) Masterlist
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Sequel to Absent
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Pairing: Dean x daughter!Reader // (scenes of) Sam x niece!Reader
Fic Warnings: scenes of dub-con, kidnapping, PTSD, heavy angst, murder - these are subject to change as I write
A/Ns: So excited to bring you the next instalment of this world ❤️
This fic is currently being posted four weeks (8 chapters) ahead on Discord. 
Posting every Saturday and Wednesday on Tumblr
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Prologue 
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty (FIN)
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fandomfic-galore · 3 years
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Crazy runs this town
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Summary: she’s been kept inside for most of her life, not to protect herself, but to protect the world. When her brothers get kidnapped, all hell is about to break lose.
Series warnings: murder, blood, gore, mayhem, sistercest, wincest, daughtercest, smut, dub con, drugs, gun fights, knife fights, fighting, mafia au, dark fic, non con, blood kink, impact play, restraints, blindfolds, crazy car driving,
A/N this has also been in the works for ages and I’m finally gonna write it. Haha. I’m so excited for this. It is a dark fic and I mean dark. Do not read if it offends you, you have been warned. Thank you so much for @flowers-in-your-hayr for helping with the mood board.
Chapter one
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
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Absent - Chapter One
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Summary: Y/N’s father loves her - maybe too much given how sheltered she is - but he’s always absent. He’s either busy with work or busy entertaining women. Y/N thinks she’s finally found a way to get him to notice her, and with a little help from Uncle Sam, she finally gets some quality time with Daddy. But for how long can she keep his attention?
Pairing: Dean x daughter!Reader / (scenes of) Sam x niece!reader / (scene of) Benny x Reader
Rating: 18+ (Smut, Angst, Fluff)
Chapter Tags: angst, disappointment, talk of isolation, naive!reader, innocent!reader, mentions of sex, voyeurism, p in v, blowjob
Chapter WC: 1727
A/Ns: I feel disgusting. This is gonna be amazing. Please send an ask to be tagged in this series. My “Always and Forevers” and my “SPN Forevers” will be tagged automatically :)
Chapters 2-19 are available now on Patreon
Absent Masterlist // Sister/Daughter!Reader Masterlist
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Chapter One - Happy Birthday
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 
You smile, “thanks, Uncle Sam. Where’s Daddy?” You look over to his seat at the large dining table, seeing it’s empty and the servers haven’t even set up his place. This disappointment sits thick in your stomach, because you know exactly what that means, but you don’t want it to be true - not today. 
“Caught up, kid, I’m sorry.” You look back at your uncle and nod your head, defeated. The confirmation that your father is missing your birthday only makes you feel like calling the whole day off. Your favourite breakfast is placed in front of you - probably Uncle Sam’s doing - and he smiles at you to confirm your suspicions. “Pancakes with chocolate sauce and strawberries, with whipped cream… still your favourite, right?” he checks. You nod.
“Yeah, thanks.” You offer him a weak smile and pick up your fork, poking at the food for a bit. 
“Plus,” Sam speaks up again, watching you carefully, “your Dad has got all of your presents waiting for you in the front room, said you can open them all without him. And if there’s anything else you want, I’m under strict instructions to get it for you.” You know you should feel grateful, but you just feel disappointed. 
“Can you get my Dad?” you ask him. Sam offers you a sympathetic smile. 
“What’s wrong with your Uncle Sammy?” he smirks. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is a big birthday, and your Dad would be here if he could - but work is busy right now.” You look down to your plate, and Sam continues. “You know he loves you more than anything else, right? And he works so hard to give you everything you want.” You nod in agreement. You know he does it all for you, you know you’re his entire world, because he tells you that you are - but all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be around, to actually spend time with you. Instead, he just splashes his cash from afar. 
“I know, you’re right. I’m sorry,” you sigh. 
The room falls quiet as you play with your food with your fork and Sam eats his own breakfast. 
“So, eighteen…” Sam prompts. “Finally an adult.” 
You nod, “don’t feel like it,” you confess. 
“I’m in my late thirties and I still don’t feel like an adult,” Sam chuckles. You smile, genuinely this time, and decide to eat a strawberry. 
“There’s just so much I’ve never done, or experienced,” you sigh. “You know, most people my age are going to prom, and thinking about college and going to house parties with their friends and…” You reach for anything else ridiculous that teenagers are supposed to enjoy doing, “kissing and stuff-” Your cheeks flame in embarrassment at the very thought. “At least, they do in all the movies.”
“Well, movies aren’t real, you know that,” Sam defends. “And you also know your Dad would be worried sick if you went to any kind of party,” he scoffs. 
“I don’t even have friends,” you complain. “Not unless you count Sandy.” Sandy was your Nanny, but now you were older she was more like your assistant. Nowadays she's around less and less, and she's good at making herself blend into the background when she is present. Dean and Sam had her doing other things now, like cleaning and organising. “I’ve never even been to a real school and I’m about to graduate.” Sam sighs and places down his knife and fork, linking his fingers together in his lap. 
“You know how much I fought with your Dad about that. I’m sorry kid, these things happen. Our line of work is… messy and you’re safer here, where we can both look out for you.” You nod your understanding. 
“Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter. I was kinda hoping we could have a movie day today?” You blush. You had always loved movies, especially when they were about people your age - seeing how different their lives were to yours. You’ve been homeschooled your whole life, sheltered from everything, and some movies confused you, because you had never experienced anything that they had. Schools seemed wonderful and daunting all at once, and you often wondered what kind of ‘clique’ you’d be in if you went to one. Would you have had a boyfriend? One of those jocks that is secretly a soft guy that takes you on romantic dates? You could only imagine your father’s face if you ever brought a guy home. You wondered why everyone always drank alcohol in red plastic cups, and constantly obsessed over sex. The most you’d learned about sex was that it made babies - and you didn’t want any of those any time soon so it seemed a little pointless for highschoolers to be doing it.
“A movie day, huh?” Sam prompts, nodding his head. “Whatever you want, Princess, this is your day. But first, presents.”
-
The rest of your birthday had been fine. It took you a while to open all of your gifts. Your father had bought you a lot of jewellery, diamonds and white gold mainly, along with some new clothes and purses, all designer, and all no doubt chosen by anyone but him, because there is no way he knows a single thing about women’s fashion. You assume, like with all your gifts you receive from him, he’s given someone his credit card and told them to buy you things you’ll like. Trouble is, very few people besides Sandy and your uncle know you at all. Still, you appreciate the sentiment, anyway. The last gift had been in an envelope, and in your father’s writing you read that he was planning to take you to Paris, but couldn’t tell you when yet. You’d already resigned yourself to the fact that it wasn’t happening any time soon, and he’d no doubt eventually send you over there with Sandy, or Uncle Sam if you were lucky. 
Uncle Sam had got you an engraved locket with the family crest on it, and the number eighteen etched into the back. He'd spent the whole day trying to make it special for you, doing whatever you wanted, which meant you’d spent most of it in the theatre under a blanket and cuddled into Sam’s side as you watched all of your favourite films, with an endless supply of warm popcorn and all the candy and chocolate you could ask for. You did have a great time, but you couldn’t help thinking about how much better it would’ve been if your father was there to share it with you too. 
But Sam had told you at breakfast the next morning that Dean was on his way back, and would hopefully be home in time to see you before bed, so you’d been spending the day wishing time away, and just hoping you’d get to see him. You were struggling to stay awake by midnight, laying on your bed in silence, listening intently for your father’s voice to carry down the halls, or just any kind of sound to suggest he had finally come home, when you must've drifted off. 
It only feels like you’d blinked when you open your eyes again and turn your head, seeing it’s almost two a.m. You sit upright immediately, feeling a little disorientated, and then you remember that your Dad’s bound to be home by now. Maybe he’ll let you sleep in with him like you did sometimes when you were younger. You leave your room and walk down the hallway, heading towards his bedroom door. You can see the light is on, and you hear movement, so you excitedly step inside, walking down the hallway and you’re about to turn the corner to where his bed is, only to stop dead in your tracks instead. You can hear moaning and gasping, and your Dad’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“Shit, baby, just like that.” The sound of his voice is comforting, and you peer around the corner to see that he’s with some blonde girl. She doesn’t look that much older than you. They’re both naked. She’s on her hands and knees at the edge of the bed, your father standing behind her, fistful of blonde locks lifting her head off the bed, and he’s thrusting into her. 
“Fuck Dean, feels good,” she whimpers. You turn back, wondering if you’re meant to even be seeing this. They’re having sex, that much you’ve figured out, even though it’s never looked like that in the movies. You look back at them again, being careful to stay hidden, because you’re curious to know just how different it is in real life. But why is your father having sex with her, anyway? You’ve never even met her, so he can’t be dating her or anything. And as far as you’re aware, he doesn’t want any more kids - you were hardly planned, he’s always called you a happy accident - so you’re not sure why he’s having sex with her. But as you watch, listening to the way they’re both moaning, and seeing the pleasure on their faces, you realise that they must be doing it for fun. Sex must feel good, and be for more than just making babies as you’d always been taught. 
You couldn’t help but feel jealous. He’d come home, and already he was spending his time with some other girl. Why hadn’t he come into your room and woken you up? Why hadn’t he wanted to see you instead of her? What if you weren’t enough for him? What if he’s only interested in girls that will do these kinds of things with him? You feel uncomfortable between your legs, like there’s a wetness there, and you squirm and grab at yourself through your pants to try and get comfortable, but it only makes it worse, so you pull your hand away and sigh. You take one last look at your father and his blonde friend as she spins and drops to her knees, and then she’s putting him in her mouth. And he likes it, apparently, because he’s moaning loudly and gripping her hair again and smirking down at her. 
You force yourself to look away and head back towards the door, closing it softly behind you. Your whole body feels like it’s tingling, your heart racing oh so fast. And you can’t stop thinking about what you’ve just seen. You head back towards your bedroom slowly, biting your bottom lip, deep in thought. Do you need to be one of those girls? To get him to spend time with you? Because if that’s what it takes, you’re willing to do anything. 
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Next chapter >
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Always and Forevers: @stoneyggirl​ / @hoewkeye​ / @dandywinchesterbras​ / @foxyjwls007​ / @writers-whirlwind​ / @kyjey​ / @spnbaby-67​ / @waywardbabie​ / @phoenixblack89​ / @miraclesoflove​ / @valisiofdauntless​ / @peaches007​ / @xoxabs88xox​ / @sam-girl1998-blog​ / @linki-locks11​ / @vulgar-library​ / @jades-bullshit​ 
 * * *
Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13​ / @akshi8278​ / @atc74​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @angelofthetrenchcoats​ / @pyroqueen-k​ / @thecreatiivecorner​ / @collette04​ / @lovealways-j​ / @noneedtoknow789​ / @socalgem1124​ / @impala1967dwinchester​ / @thoughts-and-funnies​ / @blueaura​ / @animegirlgeeky​ / @onethirstyunicorn​ / @zeppette​ / @anaelsbrunette​ / @lettersofwrittencollective​ / @beth-winchester21​ / @laxe-chester67​ / @nightsbite​ / @h0unds-of-h3ll​ / @squigglylinesdotthei​ / @an-unforgettable-place​ / @seawinggs​ / @krazykelly​ / @shelvierenablatt​ / @bobbie3939​ / @snow-white-74​ / @sharp-cheekbones-locked​ / @jaydahlynne​ / @michellemxndes​ / @tvdspngirl314​
* * *
Absent Tags: @deans-baby-momma​ / @chriswhore / @lifeofrileyp​ / @hamildork​
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
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Too Close (Absent Sequel) - Chapter Twenty (FIN)
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Tags: angst, tension, danger, manipulation, mentions of non con, threats, seduction, teasing, flirting, kissing, murder, fluff
Chapter WC: ± 4.1K
A/Ns: This is it! The end of the story! Thank you to everyone who has read and commented and given me so much love on this and Absent, I hope you enjoyed it! My next adventure is with rockstar!Jensen, so stick around!!
Too Close Masterlist // Daughter!Reader Masterlist
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Chapter Twenty
Your POV
Your hands are shaking as you sit on the couch and wait for Dean to get back. As soon as you landed he’d brought you to a hotel close to home, but not too close, and made sure it was one your family doesn’t own. He was serious about keeping you and your mother safe, but Jamie had insisted she be there. She’d wanted to go with him to see Sam. You hadn’t minded the time alone at first, but the longer you sit here by yourself in silence, every creak or click or voice from the room below you is putting you on edge, and you’re feeling more and more vulnerable. It feels like you’ve been sitting there for days. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you consider just what Dean’s doing, if he’s found Sam already, what Sam is saying to him, what Sam’s thinking knowing that you’ve told Dean the whole truth. You wonder what Sam’s made of Jamie being alive – and what she’s saying to him.
But most of that you can see in your mind’s eye, knowing both your uncle – father – and your father – uncle – well enough to know how their fight is going to go down. Sam’s going to lie and twist his way out of it – at least he’ll try to. But you like to think that Dean won’t buy it. That’s not what’s keeping you on edge. The burning question that you can’t seem to figure out the answer to is whether or not Dean is going to be able to follow through and kill Sam. He’d promised you — swiftly followed by a kiss on your forehead before he and Jamie fled for the manor — that he’d finish this once and for all, that you’d never have to worry about Sam again. And that means he’s going to kill him, surely? But can he go through with it?
The door to the room clicks, and you jump to your feet and stare at it with wide eyes, relaxing ever so slightly when you see Jamie step inside and close the door behind her. She looks shaken up.
“What’s happening?” you demand. Jamie stares at you wide eyed.
“Your – urm, Dean is with him now, I couldn’t stay I– I just needed to get away. Being around Sam was too much, I didn’t think it would be that hard,” Jamie flusters. She rushes over to the overnight bag she’d packed, rummaging through it and then zipping it back up.
“Where are you going?” you check, watching her closely.
“I can’t stay here, I can’t – I’m gonna get a cab to the airport and go home,” she tells you, panicked.
“To your husband? Because I didn’t see a trace of him in your house the two times I was in it,” you accuse, crossing your arms over your chest.
Jamie sighs and looks down at her bag. “I lied about him. I mean, there was a husband for a long time, but we got divorced a few years ago,” she explains. “Y/N, listen, I can’t stay here,” she shakes her head, sniffling.
“So that’s it? You’re just gonna let Sam force us apart again?”
“No, you don’t understand, he was going to kill me, again,” Jamie splutters out.
“Dean will look after us, he’s going to kill that sonofabitch,” you tell her, now more sure than ever that Dean will follow through. He has to. Jamie’s still shaking her head, clearly not believing what you’re saying. Her phone starts ringing in her pocket, and Jamie nearly jumps out of her skin. She scrambles for it and then seems to be a little more relieved when she looks at the screen.
“Cas,” she breathes out. You watch as she closes her eyes and bites her trembling bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I’ve gotta get out of here, Sam knows I’m alive and he’s going to kill me and probably you if he finds out you’ve been helping me,” she cries. There’s quiet as you presume Cas speaks and then Jamie sniffles. “Are you sure? What about Claire? – No Cas, I’ve gotta go back to England… it doesn’t matter what state I’m in, he’ll find me,” Jamie panics. “Are you sure? Yeah, I know you have… okay, what about Y/N?” Jamie’s eyes flicker to you and then she swallows hard. “Okay, I’ll see you soon,” she agrees.
When she hangs up, she looks at you and wipes her cheeks dry. “Cas is going to come here, me and him need to get away from here, as far as we can. But he’s going to get you some protection until Dean gets back,” she explains.
“So you trust Cas?” you check, crossing your arms over your chest to keep warm and to make yourself feel a little safer.
“He’s never let me down before. Cas is the only person I trust,” she reassures you. You just nod your head, willing to accept her judgement. Cas has never been nasty to you, never given you any reason to dislike him, and you know Dean has always trusted him too. “He’s gonna take me and Claire away until he knows it’s safe,” she adds.
“So you’re gonna run away with Cas and Claire and play happy families? Fuck your real daughter right?” you choke.
“No, it’s not like that, sweetheart. I can’t stay here, and you could come with us, of course you could, but Dean–”
“It’s fine, I understand,” you tell her bitterly.
Jamie purses her lips and sighs, and then there’s a knock on the door, Cas’s voice shouting through it to alert you it’s him. Jamie rushes to answer it, and as soon as he’s inside she wraps her arms around his neck and he holds her close. He pushes her back at arms length and smiles broadly.
“God, it’s good to see you again,” he beams, pulling her in for another hug. You watch their reunion with silent tears streaming down your cheeks. You just want Dean back here, confirming that everything’s okay, so that no one has to go anywhere and your Mom doesn’t have to leave you again. “Y/N,” Cas smiles as he and Jamie stop hugging, “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve got guards out the front, Sam’s not going to get to you, Dean’s with him now,” Cas reassures you. You just nod silently. “We’ve got to get to Claire,” he urges Jamie. Jamie nods and grabs her bag, and as she steps towards you, you turn away. You don’t want her to leave you here, even if she does have her reasons. Jamie opens her mouth to say something, but has the sense not to, and you watch them go silently.
You return to sitting nervously on the couch, waiting for Dean, only feeling a tiny bit safer knowing there are guards at the door. Luckily, you don’t have to wait much longer before you hear the door open and Dean stumbles through it, his eyes red and bloodshot, and his knuckles bloody. You rise to your feet instantly and run towards him, catching him as he stumbles forward into your arms.
“What happened?” you ask immediately, needing to know. “Did you – is he –” Dean hesitates before shaking his head, sobs erupting from his chest as he clings to you tightly.
“I’m sorry, baby girl, I’m so sorry, I failed you,” Dean chokes out. You feel a sickness press into the base of your throat. “I couldn’t – I pulled the trigger but I shot the floor, I just couldn’t do it.” Dean’s knees seem to give way and he ends up on the floor, and you try to still hold him as you kneel down beside him, but he’s inconsolable.
Your hands are shaking as you try to soothe him and tell him that it’s okay, but you know it’s a lie. It’s not okay. Sam’s still alive and he could hurt you and Dean, and Jamie. He could hurt you all, every one of you. You swallow hard as you try to get Dean off of the floor.
“C’mon, let’s take a hit, you’ll feel better then,” you sooth, not sure what else you can suggest to make him better. Dean sniffs, nodding his head as he clambers to his feet and over to the couch. “Okay,” you whisper to yourself mainly, fleeing towards your bag and rummaging through it and finding what you’re looking for. You head back to the couch to see Dean wiping the tears from his cheeks, and you sit beside him and start preparing the lines. Dean’s visibly shaking next to you as you cut, and then you hand him the rolled up note, watching him closely.
There was no way that he was ever going to be able to kill Sam – you should’ve known it. Sam is his brother, no matter how awful he is. Dean’s always cared about one thing more than anything else and that’s family – you can see that now. You can’t even blame him for not being able to follow through with it. You’ve got no doubt that part of him is still in denial about it all, that Sam had said something to make him question everything. It’s not that Dean doesn’t trust you, because you know he does, but it took you long enough to accept what Sam had been doing to you even when you were the one experiencing it. Sam’s a master manipulator. No doubt, he got into Dean’s head.
Maybe you need to play Sam at his own game – end this once and for all.
Dean offers you the note after him, and you take it, but you play with it between your fingers as you think things through rationally and watch Dean lean back and close his eyes. You’d expected the coke to liven him up, but he seems to have passed out, so you place the note down and head towards the front door.
“If he asks, tell him I’ll be back soon,” you tell one of the guards, who nods in understanding. You take a deep breath and turn, heading towards the elevator. It’s time to play your father at his own game.
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You’re noticeably shaking as you stand at the bottom step of the manor and stare up at the front door, and you want to stop it but you can’t. Fuck, this is bad. How are you supposed to seem confident if you can’t stop shaking? You need another plan. You bite your bottom lip anxiously and force yourself to climb the stone steps before you can change your mind. Stepping into your old family home sends shivers down your spine, but you keep moving forward until you’re heading towards Sam’s office. Each step that takes you closer makes you feel more sick, but you’re more determined than ever to see this through. When you knock on Sam’s door, you have to swallow down the bile in the back of your throat.
Sam looks frustrated as he opens the door and you see the damage Dean has done to his face. His nose and lip are still bloody, and there’s already a nasty bruise forming under his eye. You gasp when you see him, and Sam’s eyes widen in surprise too.
“Daddy,” you sob, falling into his arms. “Daddy, I was so worried that Dean killed you.” You hug him tightly, but he doesn’t hug back, no doubt confused. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Y/N? What’s going on?” Sam asks, swallowing hard. You pull away and look up at him through wet lashes, the tears easy enough to fake when you hate the sight of your own father.
“Dean went crazy,” you start to explain. “As soon as I found out the truth – that you’re my real father – I tried to leave him, but he wouldn’t let me. I told him I wanted to be with you, because you’re my Daddy and I love you,” you sob harder, “but he wouldn’t let me go. He just lost it, threatened to kill me, said he’d kill you so I couldn’t be with you.”
Sam suddenly starts holding you, soothing you as he strokes your hair.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m here now, you’re with me and we’re gonna be okay. I’ll kill Dean and that bitch of a mother of yours, and then it’ll be just us two like it should be, yeah?” You nod against his chest – despite wanting to throw up on his shirt – and feel extremely grateful you’ve managed to pull this off. That you’ve put your nerves to good use. “That what you want?” Sam prompts, pushing you out at arm’s length and looking you in the eye. It’s harder to lie this way, but you push through.
“Yeah, Daddy, only want you,” you confirm. Sam frowns slightly, like he doesn’t believe you. You cling to his shirt desperately. “I’ve – I’ve been wanting to see you for weeks, but Dean knew something was up, and he wouldn’t let me call you, I’ve been thinking about the promise I made you,” you stammer. You lick your lips and look past him to his desk, feeling your whole body grow weak as you remember the last time you were in his office and what he’d done to you.
“I keep thinking about your desk, y’know?” you prompt, causing Sam to turn and look at it himself, and then you notice the gun tucked into the back of his slacks.
“Me too, sweetheart,” Sam nods, turning back to smile at you. You force a smile to your lips and then smooth your hands up his chest.
“Keep thinking about how badly I want it again,” you whisper. Sam looks down at your hands and then smirks softly. He grips your wrist and guides you further into his office, sitting himself on the edge of his desk so he’s more your height. You stand between his legs, and with shaking fingers you play with his tie. Sam leans forward, and you realise he wants to kiss you, so you take a deep breath and oblige, feeling his lips press to yours as you tremble, but try to relax into the kiss to make it more natural.
You grip his neck and try to deepen the kiss, needing him utterly distracted. You fake a whimper as you press yourself tighter against him and run your hands over his body, around to his back and then to his front again.
“Want you so bad, Daddy, makes me dripping wet just thinking about it,” you purr, your voice trembling, and you hope it comes across as need and not nerves.
“Fuck, baby girl,” Sam grunts, gripping your head in one hand. “I’ve waited so long to hear you call me Daddy.” Sam’s eyes are closed as he starts kissing you again, desperately trying to get your bodies closer together. You once more smooth your hands around to his back, and to make sure he’s distracted you start talking again.
“You are my Daddy, and I’m your little girl,” you whimper, “and I want my Daddy to fuck me again.”
Sam groans, and as he does so you reach for the gun and pull it out, quick to press the barrel under his jaw. Sam freezes and you shakily hold it there, stepping back a little to get out of his embrace.
“You little fucking bitch,” he scoffs, “you’re as manipulative as your fucking mother.” “No,” you argue, cocking the gun and hearing the bullet drop into place. “I think you’ll find that I take after you in that department.” Sam swallows hard as you press the gun harder against his jaw. “And just so you know, Daddy, I’ve never wanted you. I’ve always loved Dean more and always will. And that was before you raped me and forced me to suck your cock for drugs.”
“C’mon, sweetheart, I’m your father, you’re not going to kill me,” Sam scoffs, ludicrously.
“You’re not my father, you’re nothing to me,” you whisper. “A father wouldn’t do what you did to his own daughter.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I thought you wanted that – me,” he excuses.
“No, you know I didn’t.”
“You never said no, you never stopped me, you always did as you were told in the end,” Sam argues. You shake your head, not wanting him to twist your mind like he’d been doing for so long – like he’d clearly done to Dean. “Wanna know why Dean didn’t kill me?” Sam asks next. “Because I’ve got another secret.”
“I don’t fucking care!” you shout, curling your finger around the trigger.
“Okay, okay, we can work this out, baby girl. You don’t wanna kill me. You don’t want that on your conscience for the rest of your life. Trust me, it stays with you.” You tell yourself he’s trying to get in your head, but you know that for once, he’s right. Can you really live with yourself for the rest of your life if you do this? You just want all this to be over. What other option do you have?
You start to sob, the overwhelming pressure feeling too much. You need this to be done, you don’t want to give Sam any kind of opportunity to ever hurt you, or anyone else you love, ever  again, you can’t see him ever changing.
“But you’re my baby girl, and if you think killing me will solve all your issues, then do it,” Sam tells you softly. “I love you that much, I’m willing to accept it.” You shake as you try and force yourself to pull the trigger. But Sam’s growing impatient, reaching up and gripping your wrist and you expect him to pull your hand away, but he only keeps it there, pressing the gun into his own throat harder. “Do it, Y/N,” he taunts, “kill your own father. DO IT.” Sam’s office door bursts open, and you almost pull the trigger on accident when you jump. You and Sam both turn your heads to see Jamie standing in the doorway, a gun out in front of her.
“Y/N, step away,” she tells you instantly.
“No. I’ve gotta do this,” you sob. “I’ve got to kill him.”
“No, sweetheart, you don’t. Trust me, you don’t want his blood on your hands, it never washes off. Believe me, I know,” she stresses.
“He’s gotta be stopped,” you cry. “How did you even find me?”
“I came back for you, I couldn’t leave you behind, but you weren’t there. I got Dean to come around and we figured you’d be here,” Jamie briefly explains. “Now just step away, darlin’,” she urges.
“I can’t.”
“Listen to your mother, Y/N,” Sam tells you, his hand slipping away from your wrist. You only press the gun harder into his skin.
“Oh you think I’m telling her to walk away and leave you alive?” Jamie scoffs. “I just don’t want our daughter to have someone’s murder on her conscience, I fully plan on killing you myself,” Jamie laughs.
“You wouldn’t,” Sam scoffs himself, “you still love me.”
“You tried to have me killed, you took away my family and I’ve lived in fear for seventeen years, and then I learn that you’ve been drugging and raping my daughter – our daughter.” You continue to cry, your grip on the gun getting firmer. “You think any of us are letting you walk out of this alive? Someone’s gonna kill you and I fuckin’ hope it gets to be me.”
"But then Y/N will never know if Dean is actually related to her or not," Sam smirks, his eyes falling back on you. What does he mean or not?
"Oh please," Jamie scoffs. "Everything out of your mouth is a fucking lie, anything to save your own ass."
Sam scoffs, the smirk curling deeper over his lips. "Maybe you're right. Willing to take that bet, Y/N?"
“Step back, Y/N,” Jamie warns. You realise that Jamie is right, it’s just another mind game, and you’re done playing those with Sam.
“I want to do it,” you tell her adamantly.
“No, darling, you don’t. Let me do this, for both of us,” Jamie urges. You keep the gun in place but step back a little more, and you decide to count down from five in your mind.
Five, four, three, two on–
A gunshot deafens you, and your father’s body slumps to the floor. There’s blood splattered over your face as you tremble, and it takes you a moment to realise that you never pulled the trigger. You drop the gun almost instinctively, hearing it clatter along the floor, and then turn to see Jamie lowering her gun. She looks a little shaken up herself, and over her shoulder you see Dean and Cas running into view. You fall into Dean’s arms the second he’s close enough and let him hold you, closing your eyes tight.
“It’s okay, baby girl, it’s over,” Dean soothes, stroking your hair. “Thank you,” you hear him tell Jamie quietly as you sob into his chest.
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Five Years Later
“Max!” you call, exasperatedly. “Max, come here!” Your voice echoes through the house and you roll your eyes at Dean’s playful smirk as he enters the kitchen. “I swear he never freakin’ listens to me,” you grunt. Dean only chuckles, rounding the kitchen island to kiss your cheek lovingly. “Max!” Dean calls.
“I swear to Christ, if he listens to you there’s gonna be hell to pay.” Dean laughs even harder now, walking you back and trapping you against the counter, before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
“Do we have time for a quick little rendezvous?” he whispers against your lips. “Absolutely not, they’ll be here in less than five minutes,” you tell him, pushing on his chest.
“Five minutes? I can work with that,” Dean smirks.
“That is nothing to brag about,” you scoff, ducking out from under him to grab the salad bowl. “Max!” Dean calls again, and then the excitable golden retriever bounds into view, wagging his tail and barking softly at his father.
“There you are!” Dean cooes, reaching down to rub behind Max’s ears. “Listen, you need to start listening to your mother or she’s gonna send you back to doggy school!” he tells him in his baby voice, making you roll your eyes and giggle.
“Grab the meat will you?” you ask, stepping out of the kitchen and heading towards the french doors leading out to the back yard. Dean follows you as you lay all the barbeque stuff out beside the grill, and he reaches down for one of Max’s toys, throwing it into the large yard for the overgrown puppy to chase. The garden is one of the things that had sold this country home to you. It went on for miles and had the perfect view of the sunset. Dean wraps his arm around you and kisses your cheek again.
“You look radiant,” he tells you.
“Radiant is a weird choice of word,” you tell him, smirking. “Pregnant women are radiant. Hopefully that’s not me,” you giggle.
“Hopefully not,” Dean agrees. “But I was thinking–”
“Uh oh,” you tease.
“We should get a puppy,” he tells you. “You don’t think Max is enough?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“C’mon, Max needs a brother or sister, and I’m kinda broody.” You giggle and shake your head. “Well, another puppy is better than the alternative, so I guess I could be swayed.”
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The sun is setting low now, your guests are here and the food has been eaten.
“So the company–” Cas is cut short by both Dean and Jamie groaning.
“No business talk, baby,” Jamie complains, as she throws her arm around him. “Alright,” Cas sighs, smirking slightly.
“I retired and gave you full control for a reason, you know,” Dean smirks. He swigs his beer and then clears his throat. “Still keeping on the straight and narrow?” Dean checks.
“Yes, sir,” Cas confirms.
“Good, it’s about time we did clean business,” Dean agrees. You grab your wine and take a sip, smiling happily at the way Cas kisses Jamie softly. Then you feel Dean’s hand on your thigh, his wedding ring pressing against your skin a stark contrast to his warm fingers, and you reach down and twist it around his finger. It might have not been legal, but your wedding day was still the best day of your life, you remember fondly.
Max bounds towards you and twists himself under your legs, laying down between you and Dean, and you reach down and pet him softly. Dean kisses the side of your face and you take a deep breath. Living in your dream home, married to your soul mate, and finally getting the relationship with your mother you’d never known you’d needed – life couldn’t be more perfect.
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Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie / @sexyvixen7
* * *
Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl / @sacriceria / @pink-sparkly-witch / @justanotherficreader
* * *
Too Close Tags: @deans-baby-momma / @lifeofrileyp / @moonlightandscarlet / @prettysourabbie / @jensenswinchester / @secertstotell / @danneelsmain
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
Text
Absent - Chapter Thirty (FIN)
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Summary: Y/N’s father loves her - maybe too much given how sheltered she is - but he’s always absent. He’s either busy with work or busy entertaining women. Y/N thinks she’s finally found a way to get him to notice her, and with a little help from Uncle Sam, she finally gets some quality time with Daddy. But for how long can she keep his attention?
Pairing: Dean x daughter!Reader / (scenes of) Sam x niece!reader / (scene of) Benny x Reader
Rating: 18+ (Smut, Angst, Fluff)
Chapter Tags: angst, murder, manipulation, affair, dark!Sam, smut implied, fluff
Chapter WC: 2959
A/Ns: Thank you so much for all the love and comments on this series! I’ve adored every single one!!! Hope you enjoyed this incredibly sinful series. I struggled to get into it, but once I was, there was no stopping me! Hope you loved it too! ❤️
Absent Masterlist // Sister/Daughter!Reader Masterlist
< Previous Chapter
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Chapter Thirty - Perfect
Sam’s POV
Two Days Before...
“Stop, Sam, please,” she begs. “You’re my uncle.”
“I know you’ve fucked your Daddy, why not me?” he growls. She manages to squirm away, and Sam grunts, frustrated to not be getting what he wants. What the fuck does he have to do to make her want him, even if it’s just for a moment? But she’s so caught up with Dean that she doesn’t fucking care about him. Y/N wipes her lips with shaking hands, and then glances once at Sam. 
“I’m sorry,” she whispers out, tears in her eyes. She turns and leaves the room before Sam can reply, and he growls under his breath in frustration. Great, now she’s scared of him and probably isn’t going to trust him ever again, and what if she tells Dean? He really didn’t want to have to take such drastic measures, but he figures he’s been backed into a corner and this is the only way out. 
Reaching into his pocket for his cell he huffs, and scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one he needs. 
“Yeah?” the voice replies. 
“Gonna need your help,” Sam replies, clenching his jaw harder. 
“Sam Winchester, long time no speak. Thought you’d forgotten all about your best friend.” Sam huffs, not entirely happy about the fact that he’s had to resort to this, but he grits his teeth to reply.
“Of course not, Nick, can’t forget you.” Sam knows he needs to keep Nick sweet. There’s only so much hush money he can pay him before Dean starts questioning where that money is going. 
“Though, it does seem to me that you only reach out when you need something from me. It makes me feel very… used.” 
“Well, you know Dean will get suspicious if he knows we’re still doing business. It’s safer for both of us this way,” Sam excuses lazily. Luckily, Nick doesn’t push. 
“Tell me what you need,” Nick commands. 
Sam licks his lips and draws a deep breath, walking over to the door to close and lock it. 
“Need to distract Dean somehow, was wondering if you could hold Y/N for a while, make him sweat.” Sam keeps his voice low, and Nick chuckles down the phone.
“Do you mean your darling niece?” he asks, amused. “Oh Sam, I’ve heard she’s grown up to be quite the woman, not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself whilst I’m holding her, if you know what I mean. So I guess the real question is, how badly do you need your brother distracted?” Sam’s grip on his cell tightens and he takes a deep breath. Nick doesn’t need to know the entire plan. Just enough to do as he’s told.
“Do what you want with her, within reason, but I do have some conditions,” Sam explains. “Keep her alive, don’t hurt her too much, just enough to make the ransom video believable. Want you to hold her for a few hours in a warehouse I’ve got on the edge of town. I can get her there, you just need to keep her there. Make the video, send it to me and Dean with your demands, and then I’ll let you know when we’re on our way, so that you can flee and leave her there.”
“And what are my demands, Sam? What do I get out of this besides a taste of that sweet niece of yours?” Nick pries. Sam clenches his jaw again at Nick’s words.
“You’re gonna ask Dean to give you the business,” Sam tells him. 
“Oh Sammy, I think I’ll be keeping Y/N a lot longer than a few hours if you’re expecting Dean to give up the business,” Nick scoffs. “What do I really get out of it?” 
“I have a plan, just trust me. Dean loves Y/N more than anything, and I can get him to give up the business - maybe not to you, but to me. And in return for your part, I’ll sign you in and we can finally be official business partners, like we’ve always talked about.” Nick is quiet for a long moment, and Sam knows he’s got him right where he wants him. 
“So where’s this warehouse?”
-
It’s easy enough to get Nathan to comply once Sam’s promised him his yearly salary for one hours’ work, and just as Sam predicted, Dean got home in record time. Sam had already prepared most of the paperwork he needed for his plan, and given that he’d told Charlie false information, it was going to take her just a little longer to find the location than usual. Plenty of time for Dean to sweat enough to sign whatever Sam shoved in his face, and Sam was even able to play the hero and give Dean the location, once he was satisfied everything else had gone to plan. Sam hadn’t expected Dean to take Y/N to Paris, but the distance would certainly help when he still has some cleaning up to do. 
He’d asked Nick to meet him back at the crime scene, just to go over some details for their partnership, and he’d gotten Nathan to drive him. Killing Nathan had been easy - one gunshot in the back of the head with a silencer saw the younger man slumped over the steering wheel of the car, lifeless in seconds, and Nick will be none the wiser from inside the warehouse, until Sam wants him to be - if he wants him to be. Sam straightens up his tie and calmly steps out of the car, doing up his suit jacket and tugging on his shirt sleeves underneath. He walks towards the entrance feeling taller than he’s ever felt. The business is finally his. There’s just one more thing missing. But he’s waited this long for the business, so he knows he just needs the patience for Y/N too. 
Nick has his back to him when Sam enters the building, but turns around when he hears the soft click of Sam’s shoes on the concrete floor. 
“Long time no see, Sammy,” he calls out. Sam doesn’t say anything at first. Nick knows how much Sam hates him calling him Sammy, but he grew tired of commenting on it a long time ago.  “Gotta hand it to you, buddy, you’re brutal - maybe more brutal than me. But I do admire you for it. Always had your eye on that prize haven’t you?” Nick smirks, chuckling softly. “Got there in the end though.” Sam remains quiet, letting Nick continue to talk. Nick’s always loved to talk. “You know, I really thought you had it last time, when you had me kill that bitch - what was her name again? Jamie? Expecting Dean to step up to the father plate, weren’t you?” “I had other reasons for killing Jamie,” Sam tells Nick honestly. 
“Enlighten me,” Nick commands, holding his arms out. “Can’t have secrets if we’re gonna be business partners.” Sam scoffs, reaching into the back of his slacks before pulling out his gun.
“Yeah about that,” Sam smirks, pointing the gun at Nick’s head. “Had a change of heart.” Nick holds his hands up immediately, a panicked laugh leaving his lips. 
“Buddy, c’mon, I ain’t gonna tell him. Kept Jamie a secret all these years haven’t I?” 
“It’s nothing personal, buddy. Purely business,” Sam reassures him, before pulling the trigger. He feels like a weight has lifted when Nick’s body slumps to the floor. It had always haunted him, knowing that Nick was out there with so many of Sam’s secrets. Sam didn’t like those out in the world to be exposed. 
Fifteen Years Ago
“I wanna tell him, Sam,” she tells him desperately.
Sam scoffs, shaking his head immediately, “what? No, don’t be ridiculous, Jamie.”
“Why not? I’m sick of this. I wanna be with you properly. You said yourself, if it wasn’t for him then maybe we’d be happy.” Jamie reaches for Sam’s hands, but he pulls them away harshly. 
“No, Jamie, it’s not happening. You can’t tell him. He’ll kill both of us if he ever finds out what we’ve done.” Sam turns around and walks further into the room.
“Sam, c’mon, please. Let’s just take Y/N and be a family, like it’s meant to be.” 
Sam turns back around, glaring at Jamie. “We’re not even having this conversation. I’m needed here, I have a life here, a place in the business. And taking Y/N away from Dean? No.” He’s not sure how many times he has to say it to get it into her thick head. Fucking around with Jamie over the years has been fun - knowing he’s got something of Dean’s he shouldn’t - but he never intended for it to get this far. 
“Oh c’mon, you know as well as I do he cares more about work than he does about her. She’s not even his.” 
Sam shakes his head, not wanting to hear the bitter truth in Jamie’s words. 
“She’s yours, Sam, she deserves to know her real father, don’t you want to raise your own daughter? And Dean deserves the truth.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, someone might hear you!” he snarls, glancing to the door to make sure it’s locked. Sam was only nineteen when he got Jamie pregnant, her a year younger than him still, and they were meant to fucking deal with it, until she went and ran her fucking mouth to Dean about the baby. Dean of course, instantly assumed he was the father, and Jamie had some romantic idea that her and Sam would run away together someday. Sam was too young, in over his head, so he let her believe what she wanted as long she kept her mouth shut about their affair. 
“Dean’s only with me because of Y/N. You think I don’t know that he’s fucking anything with a skirt in a ten mile radius?” Jamie asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I can’t do this anymore, so I’m telling him, Sam. With or without you, I don’t care. But I can’t keep this a secret anymore. We’ve been doing this behind his back for four years now.” 
Sam clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “Don’t do this Jamie, you’re making a mistake.” 
“The only mistake I made was ever telling Dean that Y/N was his in the first place.”
-
PRESENT DAY
Your POV
“Yeah?” Nick’s voice is echoing around your brain. The blow from his hit has finally got to you, and your eyes can’t focus and your head is fuzzy. “Aw c’mon buddy, you told me I can do what I want with her, I just want one little taste.” You grumble, struggling against your bounds weakly, trying to get your brain to focus enough. “Sam, please, play fair!” Nick whined mockingly. Why is he speaking to Sam? Is he here? Are you being rescued? You attempt to squint your eyes open, peering up at Nick and see him on his cell, but you can’t keep them open and they close again. “Relax, she’s out like a fucking light, she can’t hear me, anyway.” 
You bolt up awake in bed and pant heavily, feeling a cold sweat breaking out over your entire body. It’s been the same nightmare every night for six months now - ever since that night. But you don’t remember the phone call being real. It can’t be real. Uncle Sam would never hurt you like that. He’s been nothing but sweet and caring towards you. If you don’t count the way he was in your father’s office that one time. He loves you like you’re his, he always has. 
“Hey baby girl,” Dean soothes, sitting up next to you. His hand strokes up and down your back softly. “It’s okay, just a dream, remember?” he asks gently. You turn your head to look at him, half asleep with tousled hair, and he looks so good like that, that you find yourself relaxing a little more. “Daddy’s got you, c’mon,” he encourages. 
Without a word you lay back down beside him, and once again he wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you in. His lips press to your bare shoulder and he kisses along it, up to your neck, helping to calm you further. 
“Want me to help take your mind off of it, Princess?” he asks huskily, nipping at your skin slightly. The arousal begins to bloom in the base of your stomach and you whimper slightly, slowly opening your legs as Dean’s hand travels from your stomach to between them. “That’s it baby, let Daddy make you feel better.” 
-
Come morning you’re feeling better, and as usual, you and Dean enjoy breakfast on the terrace of the suite, looking out at the sight you’ll never grow tired of. You thank the servers as they bring you fresh coffee and warm pastries from the local bakery you adore, and talk to Dean casually about your plans for the day. 
“I’m thinking a blush pink in the first bar area,” you tell him. 
“Whatever you want, sweetheart, this is your hotel, I’m just here to help with the business stuff.” You smile softly and nod. 
“Yeah, blush pink,” you settle on, nodding. Neither you nor Dean have left Paris since you arrived six months before - you don’t want to. And Dean had made very good on his promise to keep his focus on you, handing most of the important stuff over to Uncle Sam without any fuss. He seems more relaxed, more carefree than he’s ever been before. No one really knows you here still - there’s no history, no bad blood, so you and Dean can just enjoy your lives here without looking over your shoulders all the time. 
“Knock knock.” Turning around you see Sam standing in the doorway to the balcony with a smirk. 
“Sam!” Dean laughs a little, getting up to hug his brother. You feel a little apprehensive to see him, considering the nightmares you’ve been having, but you tell yourself they’re just dreams, and rise to your feet and force a smile to your lips as you approach him and let him kiss your forehead. 
“Missed you both, finally found some time to come and see you,” he explains. 
“Well we’re happy you’re here,” Dean insists. Sam’s eyes linger on you, his hand hovering around your lower back, and you feel a little uncomfortable, so you step away. 
“Well? Are you gonna show me Paris, or do I have to get lost by myself?” Sam smirks, looking between you. 
“Yeah, of course, man. I’m gonna shower and we can head out.” Dean claps Sam on the shoulder as he passes and disappears into your bedroom. 
Sam turns back to you with a smirk. 
“Been a while, darling,” he notes quietly. 
“Yeah, it has,” you agree, making a point to sit down. Sam sits where Dean had been, pulling the chair a little closer to yours. 
“Haven’t really had a chance to talk to you properly since… everything happened. Your Dad whisked you away so quickly. Are you okay?” he checks. 
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” you lie. There’s a churning in your gut that you can’t ignore, and you keep telling yourself that your dream wasn’t real, but something is telling you that it very much was. 
“Well,” Sam sighs, reaching out and clamping a hand down over your thigh, making you tense up. “I’d say it worked out well, wouldn’t you? You’ve finally got your Daddy all to yourself,” he notes, not looking at you but out at the view. “Would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, though,” he adds, squeezing a little tighter, his hand travelling up your leg just a little bit. “Miss our little lessons, I’m sure there’s still so much I could teach you.” 
You politely try to push his hand away, but his grip tightens still, and you’re suddenly a little worried for your safety. Something you’ve never really felt around Sam before. 
“Let’s not forget, Princess, I’m the reason you and Daddy get to fuck in Paris every night.” You snap your head to look at him, feeling bile press at the base of your throat. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Is he admitting to being involved in your kidnapping? “After all, if I hadn’t have helped you in the first place, he might’ve left you to Nick.” You don’t want to believe Sam, but a tiny part of you does and you hate it. “So really, you should be finding ways to thank me.” Sam finally looks at you, a deep smirk set on his face, his fingertips brushing up your inner thigh just a little higher. “I’ve got a few ideas.” 
You swallow around the lump in your throat, but you can’t speak.
“Right, I’m ready to go,” Dean announces from behind you and Sam’s quick to pull his hand away and stand up.
“That was quick! Great, let’s get going. Can’t wait to see your new hometown. I was just telling Y/N how perfect Paris is for you both, how happy you both seem. I mean really, this worked out for the best, huh?” 
“Yeah, man,” Dean agrees happily. “Coming baby girl?” he prompts. You nod, forcing a smile and pushing yourself to your shaky feet, staying close to Dean’s side as you walk through the suite to the door. 
“Yeah, I think I’ll visit Paris a lot more often from now on,” Sam tells you both. 
“Sounds perfect,” Dean agrees. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Y/N?” Sam presses. 
“Yeah, of course, Uncle Sammy,” you lie, feeling the dread take over your entire body. “Like Daddy said, sounds perfect.” 
THE END
... or is it?
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Always and Forevers: @stoneyggirl​ / @hoewkeye​ / @dandywinchesterbras​ / @foxyjwls007​ / @kyjey​ / @spnbaby-67​ / @waywardbabie​ / @phoenixblack89​ / @miraclesoflove​ / @valisiofdauntless​ / @peaches007​ / @xoxabs88xox​ / @sam-girl1998-blog​ / @linki-locks11​ / @vulgar-library​ / @jades-bullshit​ / @dirty-pan-goblin​ / @little-diable / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6​ / @lunarmoon8​
* * *
Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13​ / @akshi8278​ / @atc74​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @angelofthetrenchcoats​ / @pyroqueen-k​ / @thecreatiivecorner​ / @collette04​ / @lovealways-j​ / @noneedtoknow789​ / @socalgem1124​ / @impala1967dwinchester​ / @thoughts-and-funnies​ / @blueaura​ / @animegirlgeeky​ / @onethirstyunicorn​ / @zeppette​ / @anaelsbrunette​ / @lettersofwrittencollective​ / @beth-winchester21​ / @laxe-chester67​ / @nightsbite​ / @h0unds-of-h3ll​ / @squigglylinesdotthei​ / @an-unforgettable-place​ / @seawinggs​ / @krazykelly​ / @shelvierenablatt​ / @bobbie3939​ / @snow-white-74 / @sharp-cheekbones-locked​ / @jaydahlynne​ / @michellemxndes​ / @tvdspngirl314​ / @squirrelnotsam​ / @lyarr24​ / @deansbxtch​ / @pinkshenanigan​ / @beskaradberoya​
* * *
Absent Tags: @deans-baby-momma​ / @Chriswhore / @lifeofrileyp​ / @reidslittlegirl​ / @smellingofpoetry​ / @slut-for-jared / @destiel-bridesmaid​ / @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x​ / @healpeony​ / @cemini-winchester​  / @destielstuffandthings​ / @moonlightandscarlet​ / @prettysourabbie​ / @bobbysxidgits​ / @brookelan​ / @tootsie562 / @xhannahbananax03​ / @teresa-67​ / @vikki240401​ / @inkedaztec​ / @awinchester27​ / @cutebutnotinorcent​ / @cole22ann​ / @1800-bleach​ / @deangirldream​ / @ghostlygooppeanutwobbler​ / @deanscroissant​ / @jensenswinchester​
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
Text
Too Close (Absent Sequel) - Prologue
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Warnings: slight angst, that’s it really
Chapter WC: 1651
A/Ns: I’m so happy to be writing for these characters again, and so excited for the plans I’ve got! - Please send me an ask to be tagged in this series!
This fic is currently being posted four weeks (8 chapters) ahead on Discord.  
Too Close Masterlist // Daughter!Reader Masterlist
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Prologue
Two Years, Six Months Later
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word,” you hum quietly, shaking the pram gently side to side as you push it. The little girl inside grumbles slightly and kicks her legs up. “Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird,” you continue, reaching inside to straighten her covers. “And if that mockingbird don’t sing.” As you glance up, you see an older couple walking hand in hand towards you along the path. The woman stops, glancing into the pram.
“Oh how beautiful,” she coos, glancing at you as you smile. She’s British from what you can tell of her accent. Given you’re in one of the prime locations of Paris, it never throws you off to hear all sorts of accents and languages. “What is her name?” the woman asks. You beam, reaching down to stroke your finger along the baby’s chubby red cheek.
“Florence,” you tell her.
“What a beautiful name. How old is she?”
“Only six months,” you tell her.
“Oh, appreciate every single second, my darling. They grow up so quick, she’ll be running around this park before you know it.”
“That she will,” you agree, giggling. “We’re going to have a picnic, aren’t we, Flo?” you beam, tapping her tiny button nose. “Nice to meet you,” you smile at the couple and then continue your journey to the large grassed area, where there’s enough shade from the summer sun for Florence to sit out under. “Daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring,” you continue to sing, smiling down at her as she begins to coo. She always seems happy when you sing to her. “And if that diamond ring turns brass-” you hum the rest of the line under your breath, as you pull up to the picnic spot under a tree and put the brake on the pram.
Reaching under the basket, you unfold the blanket you’d packed and lay it out along the grass, grabbing the picnic hamper and laying out the few bits you’d brought, along with a fresh bottle for Florence’s lunch. You set it all out before you bring your attention back to the baby girl starting to grizzle - with hunger no doubt - in her pram.
“Hey beautiful, are you hungry?” you ask her, making sure her sun hat is on her head properly, before picking her up. You hold her close and bounce her gently. “And if that looking glass gets broke,” you sing quietly, before getting down on the blanket and sitting her on your lap. You bounce her on your knee as you watch people pass by and smile politely as they stare at you with Florence. You know what most of them are thinking - that you look too young to be a Mom - but some other people smile and make a fuss of Flo as they pass, which makes you happy.
Once Flo is full on her bottle she seems a little happier, and she enjoys playing with the stuffed animals you’d brought with you to keep her entertained. She sits amongst rolled up blankets for the extra support - not quite able to sit up completely unaided yet - and giggles whenever you shake the little blue elephant in her face. You glance around, feeling like you’re being watched, but you know it’s probably just people staring at you with Flo as they pass.
“How beautiful!” You jump slightly, but then smile as you watch the older woman approach. Her accent isn’t as thick French as most locals around here, so you assume that she’s either another tourist from a different part of France, or maybe someone who retired here and has picked up the accent. “Is she yours?” the woman asks.
“Mhm,” you nod, smiling softly. “Only six months old and driving me and her Daddy crazy,” you chuckle, shaking the elephant again.
“If you think she’s driving you crazy now, wait until she can answer back. I miss mine that young.”
You just giggle and look back at Florence.
“It’s the most wonderful feeling being a mother, no?” she prompts. “Having someone so little, but having so much love for them. Though you’ll never get another moment to yourself again, mine are in their forties now, and they still won’t leave me alone.”
“I won’t mind, it’s nice to be needed and wanted - to never be alone,” you tell her honestly. “Her Daddy works a lot, goes back to America for work sometimes too, so it’s nice to have company.”
“You’re a saint for doing so much by yourself, my love, I hope that man of yours appreciates everything you do for your family.” You feel yourself blush and shrug a shoulder.
“I’m sure he does, my husband is the best man on this planet.” Florence starts to grumble, and when you check the time, you realise it’s getting close to her nap time, and you need to be heading back to the hotel, anyway. “We’ve got to go, but it was lovely talking to you, Madame,” you smile politely, getting up and lifting Florence into your arms. “Say goodbye, Flo,” you prompt, waving her tiny arm on her behalf. The old woman smiles and says goodbye, leaving you both alone.
You sigh heavily as you look at Florence staring back at you with her big baby blue eyes. Glancing around the park again, you make sure people aren’t staring.
“Fun’s over, let’s get you home.” You place Florence down gently in her pram, and work on packing away quickly, before setting it all in the basket underneath. You take off the brake and turn you both around to head back the way you’d come. You hum a different lullaby on the way back to the hotel, but as you don’t know most of the words - only remembering bits - you can’t sing it the way Sandy used to. The hotel arrives all too quickly, and you take a deep breath. Dean will no doubt be back from his meeting by now. You push the pram into the foyer and smile at Gabriel on reception, and as you turn the corner towards the bar, you see Juliette.
“Oh Y/N, you’re an absolute diamond!” She gushes, rushing over to you. “Is everything okay? How is she?” Juliette asks, reaching into the pram the second she’s close enough.
“She was fine, Juliette,” you reassure her, forcing a smile to your lips. “Stole everyone’s hearts as usual.”
“Of course she did, takes after her Mumma, don’t you?” Juliette coos, and Florence gargles and smiles at her Mom.
“I gave her her bottle and I think she might be ready for a nap,” you tell her.
“Thank you again, Y/N, you are a superstar! I am so sorry that I have to bring her to work sometimes. If the babysitter cancels, I have no one,” Juliette sighs, bouncing Florence in her arms.
“It’s never a problem, Juliette, I love having Flo, I’ll take her anytime,” you tell her sincerely. “End of your shift?” you check.
“Yes, I have handed over the cleaning of the bar to Margaret, but I cleaned the offices and reception like you asked.”
“Perfect, thank you. See you tomorrow?” you ask. Juliette nods, Florence getting fussy again. “Bye Flo, see you soon,” you smile, kissing the back of her tiny hand. You make your way to the elevator and wave again as you step inside and the doors close.
As soon as you’re alone you slump against the back wall of the elevator and take some deep breaths. It’s always nice to live in a dream world now and then, but the crash back to reality never fails to hurt. The doors ping open into the penthouse suite that you still call home, and you step into the room and place your bag down on the side.
“Daddy?” you call out.
“In here,” you hear Dean’s reply. You step into the living area to see him slumped down on the sofa, his tie loose around his neck and his shirt undone a little. You can’t deny he looks gorgeous like that.
“Meeting go okay?” you ask, seeing the glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Yeah, it went well. Where have you been?”
“I took Florence to the park whilst Juliette finished her shift. Her babysitter had to leave again.”
“That woman needs a better childminder,” Dean scoffs, pouring himself another drink. “We’re paying her to clean, and yet she’s getting free childcare out of us too. We’re not a creche,” he complains.
“Daddy, stop. I like Juliette, and I love spending time with Flo, it’s not a problem. At least it gives me something to do when you’re working.” Dean purses his lips, and then takes a sip of his drink. “What was the meeting about, anyway?” you check.
“Just boring business stuff, nothing for you to worry about.” You nod slowly, biting your bottom lip a little before sighing. You reach up and begin to unbutton your blouse, looking carefully to see if Dean’s watching. He notices, but looks away quickly.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you tell him, feeling a little undesirable, but you didn’t have the energy for an argument about it right now. Days that you wanted to be desirable - admittedly - were far and few between right now, but when you were in that mood, it was always disheartening if your father wasn’t.
“Okay baby,” he replies casually. “Oh, Y/N?” he calls, stopping you from turning around. His eyes fall on your newly exposed cleavage and he clears his throat. “I’m urm, going back to Kansas tomorrow, just for a few days. Do you want to come with me?” he checks. Just the thought makes a lump form in your throat and a heavy weight drop in your stomach.
“No, it’s urm - it’s too short notice,” you excuse. It’s a lie that Dean won’t buy, but he doesn't push it at least.
“Okay, well do you at least want to go out for dinner tonight? Before I leave in the morning?” he prompts.
“Yeah, sure Daddy, that sounds good to me,” you nod, turning and heading for the shower, before he can press you on your reluctance to visit Kansas.
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Always and Forevers: @stoneyggirl / @hoewkeye / @dandywinchesterbras / @foxyjwls007 / @kyjey / @spnbaby-67 / @waywardbabie / @phoenixblack89 / @miraclesoflove / @valisiofdauntless / @peaches007 / @xoxabs88xox / @sam-girl1998-blog / @linki-locks11 / @vulgar-library / @jades-bullshit / @dirty-pan-goblin / @little-diable / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
* * *
Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @atc74 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @thecreatiivecorner / @collette04 / @lovealways-j / @noneedtoknow789 / @socalgem1124 / @impala1967dwinchester / @thoughts-and-funnies / @blueaura / @animegirlgeeky / @onethirstyunicorn / @zeppette / @anaelsbrunette / @lettersofwrittencollective / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @nightsbite / @h0unds-of-h3ll / @squigglylinesdotthei / @an-unforgettable-place / @seawinggs / @krazykelly / @shelvierenablatt / @bobbie3939 / @sharp-cheekbones-locked / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @lyarr24 / @deansbxtch / @pinkshenanigan / @beskaradberoya / @mikadwinchester / @chocolateheart
* * *
Too Close Tags: @deans-baby-momma / @lifeofrileyp / @smellingofpoetry / @sweetaspiesammy​ / @destiel-bridesmaid​ / @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x​ / @healpeony​ / @cemini-winchester​  / @destielstuffandthings​ / @moonlightandscarlet​ / @prettysourabbie​ / @bobbysxidgits​ / @brookelan​ / @xhannahbananax03​ / @teresa-67​ / @vikki240401​ / @inkedaztec​ / @awinchester27​ / @cutebutnotinorcent​ / @cole22ann​ / @1800-bleach​ / @deangirldream​ / @ghostlygooppeanutwobbler​ / @deanscroissant​ / @jensenswinchester​ / @secretlovexo​
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
Text
Too Close (Absent Sequel) - Chapter One
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Warnings: angst, light smut, fluff, mentions of having a baby, mentions of incestuous breeding
Chapter WC: ±2K
A/Ns: I’m so happy to be writing for these characters again, and so excited for the plans I’ve got! - Please send me an ask to be tagged in this series!
This fic is currently being posted four weeks (8 chapters) ahead on Discord.
Too Close Masterlist // Daughter!Reader Masterlist
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Chapter One
One Week Later
Dean lets out a slow, long breath, dropping the pen to his desk as he reaches for his cell. It's almost 9pm, which means that it'll be almost 4am in Paris. Even if he had anything to say, even if he could fix this, she wouldn't be awake anyway. He reaches into the top drawer of his desk and finds the whiskey bottle, reaching across for what appears to be a clean glass, before pouring a large measure and shooting it back. 
"Dean? What are you still doing here?" Dean turns to see Sam in the doorway. 
"I urm, missed my flight," Dean lies, suddenly interested in the paperwork he's been avoiding all night, not having the attention span for it, until now apparently. 
"Dude, it's a private jet," Sam scoffs. Dean almost rolls his eyes at his brother's inability to get the hint that he doesn't want to talk about this. 
"Yeah well, there's still paperwork I gotta do for London." 
"Well let me have a look," Sam offers, dropping himself into the armchair opposite. 
"It's fine. I'll handle it. It's not your business," Dean argues. He closes his mouth for a second, realising how that sounded and then clears his throat, "I just meant, it's separate to normal business. Like Paris," he explains. 
"You and Y/N buying another hotel in Europe?" Sam asks. 
"Yeah, well Y/N doesn't know about it yet. But there's only so many times she can change the colour of the bar. Thought she'd like a new project. And she likes London." 
Sam opens his mouth as if he's about to speak, but then shuts it again. Dean's fairly sure he doesn't want to hear whatever Sam has to say, but then Sam finally goes and says it anyway. 
"Everything okay between you two?" he checks. Dean and Y/N's unconventional relationship hadn't been a secret between the brothers for a couple of years now. Not since Sam walked in on them during his second visit to Paris. He'd taken it far better than Dean ever thought he would. Dean was at least expecting some kind of fight on his hands, something about how close he was to his own daughter - too close - but Sam had never said anything about it. There was the odd look, the odd frown, but Dean had never labelled it as disgust. In fact, Dean's not sure what he'd label that look his brother shoots in their direction from time to time. 
Sam had known well before that that Dean's feelings towards Y/N weren't proper, and Dean had even figured out for himself that neither were Sam's, to a certain degree, but Sam had never done anything about it, unlike Dean - as far as he knew, anyway. 
"She's been off since I brought her here to visit for Christmas," Dean confesses, pouring some more whiskey. "I thought almost three years would've been long enough, but ever since we got home, she's been different. I guess she wasn't ready. Must still think about that night. She still gets nightmares sometimes." Dean sighs heavily leaning forward on the desk, but Sam doesn't say anything. 
"I thought we'd made good progress, but bringing her back here just set her back. I don't know how to help her right now. She's-" Dean scoffs and shakes his head. He can't even bring himself to tell Sam, gulping down more whiskey as he thinks back to the week before, the night he left for Kansas. 
Dinner was satisfying, and the night air is warm but pleasant on Dean’s face as he walks hand in hand with Y/N back home. 
“Do you ever think about the future?” she suddenly asks. Dean glances across at her and pouts his lips a little. “What do you mean?” he checks. 
“Well you know, me and you?” She looks over at him and bites her bottom lip. “Like, what we’re gonna be doing in five years’ time.” Dean stops and thinks for a second, trying to be careful with his answer. Truthfully, he’s never thought about it - he’s never wanted to think about it. 
“Whatever happens, I hope you’re by my side,” he tells her honestly, squeezing her hand. 
“You mean that?” she checks. “You still wanna be with me… like this, in five years time?” Dean smiles wider and pulls her into his side, wrapping his arm around her. He stops walking and turns to face her head on. 
Reaching up to cup her face, he strokes his thumb along her cheek and stares into her eyes intently. 
“Sweetheart, I wanna be like this for the rest of our lives, I thought you knew that,” he tells her softly. She bites back her smile, and then leans forward to kiss him softly. 
“I want to, too, Daddy,” she purrs against his lips. Dean’s fingers slip to curl under her chin as he tips her face up to look at him more clearly. 
“Then it’s settled,” he smirks. She giggles softly, and nods her head. 
“Do you want to stay in Paris?” she asks next. Dean looks around them. Paris had quickly become home to them. 
“If that’s what you’d like,” he agrees. She bites her bottom lip and Dean uses his thumb to tug it free gently, watching it spring back into place. “I love you, baby girl, you know that, don’t you?” he prompts. She nods her head gently. 
“I love you too, Daddy,” she tells him, kissing him softly again. 
There seems to be more of a spring in her step as they continue on their way home, and Dean glances across and smiles at her. After the last six months, it’s nice to see her happy again for once, Dean just wishes he knew how to make it more permanent. 
-
Y/N's lips are smothering Dean's as she hums and grinds down into his lap desperately. It's been weeks since she's wanted sex - and the once that she did, they had to stop because she got upset. Dean can't even think why, but she's been touchy since Kansas, and he can only think that something more must have happened the night of her kidnapping all those years ago - something she's not telling him. But it doesn't matter how many times he asks her, she tells him she's already told him everything that she remembers, and goes stiff and closes off. So what more can he do? 
Y/N kisses him harder, almost bruisingly, like she's trying to encourage him. But Dean's hesitant, and can she blame him? Last time he touched her - last time they fucked - it ended with her locking herself in the bathroom in floods of tears whilst refusing to talk to him or let him in, and he'd rather not repeat that again. 
"Gonna miss you so much, Daddy," she gasps against his mouth, her fingers twisting into his henley. 
"Only gonna be gone a few days, Princess," he reassures her, trying to keep her calm. She whines, pathetic and needy against him, and then grinds her hips down harder - and Dean can't help but feel himself getting more and more aroused. 
"Need you Daddy, please." 
"You sure, baby?" he asks softly, trying to keep at least some semblance of control. 
"Yes, please," she whispers desperately. 
Dean gives in, kissing back passionately, gripping at her waist and pulling her tighter into him. He lifts them and carries her into their bedroom, dropping her to her feet at the foot of the bed. She hums happily against his mouth and then trails her kisses along his jaw and down his throat, her small fingers trying hard to unbutton his shirt as quickly as she can. 
"Want a baby, Daddy. Give me a baby." Dean's heart jumps into his throat and lodges there, his body tensing for a second. 
"What, sweetheart?" he prompts, hoping to god he's heard that wrong. 
"Want a baby. Please?" she breathes against his neck, her hand rubbing over his crotch. But she's not going to find any trace of the arousal that had started to blossom there moments before, not anymore. "Put a baby in me. Then I'll never be alone again, and we can love it, and it'll be ours, don't you want that Daddy?" she whimpers. 
Dean pushes her away, gently but firmly and frowns. 
"Sweetheart, no. We can't - that can never happen, I thought you knew that."
"Why not? You don't love me enough?" she asks, out of breath. Her hair is a mess from Dean's fingers, and her clothes are askew.
"Baby girl, no, it's not that," he reassures her immediately. She lunges for him again. 
"Then give me a baby, oh please Daddy," she begs. Dean pushes her away again, a little more forcefully this time - a little less carefully. 
"No, Y/N, we can't. We can't ever have a baby together, you understand?" he asks her firmly. 
She frowns deeper and crosses her arms over her chest. 
"Baby, we're - you're-" but Dean can't even bring himself to say it. They've lived in a bubble in Paris for three years now. Besides the odd reminder when Sam visits, or Dean stops by Kansas, they'd been happy enough pretending that who they really are doesn't exist. In Paris, they're just a happy couple with no cares or secrets. Besides, no one truly knows them here. No one knows anything that they don't want them to. They were happy here - just a couple, nothing more.
"We can't have a baby," Dean concludes. "Ever." Y/N's eyes glass over with tears and she shakes her head. Dean wants to change his mind, but he can't. It's a line he won't ever cross. He's not being the reason there's a kid that's fucked up in ways they can't even comprehend right now. A product of something so unnatural, no matter how much he doesn't want to admit it. He and Y/N had never had to have this conversation before, but by the look on her face, it's something she'd never even considered, until now. 
"She wants a baby, Sam," Dean finally lets slip. He needs to talk to someone that isn't Y/N. Someone who understands just why he can't give her that. 
"Dean, no. You can't. That's - are you out of your mind?!" He seems angry. Dean looks up at him and frowns. 
"Fucking hell, Sam, what do you take me for? I obviously said no." Sam seems to relax slightly at the confirmation. "Jesus Christ. You think I'd even consider it?! I know there's a million reasons why that can't happen." 
"Okay, good," Sam replies on an out breath. 
It's quiet between them as Dean pours another drink. 
"What are you doing here, man?" Sam sighs. 
"I told you paper-" 
"No, what are you doing with Y/N? You've had your fun, but it's time to let her go. C'mon man, you can't give her everything she wants. You can't marry her, you can't give her a baby. Don't you want all that for her?" Dean looks away, clenching his jaw. Sam's comments strike a nerve with Dean because it's the exact argument he's had in his head since arriving in Kansas. 
"It's not that simple, Sam. I love her." 
"I know you do, she's your daught-" 
"No, Sam. I love her. Butterflies when we kiss, whole world on fire, can't breathe without her, chick flick bullshit love her. Okay?" 
Sam's quiet, painfully so, for several moments, and Dean just pours another drink and tries to numb the pain washing over him. 
"So, London is a distraction," Sam finally says. Dean sighs and rubs his eyes with his fingers. 
"She just needs a new project, that's all," Dean insists, hoping to fuck he's right. "Once she gets planning and designing in London she'll forget about all of this." But Dean can't tell if he's convincing Sam or himself anymore - what he can tell is he's starting to get drunk now, so at least that will help him ignore the crushing guilt for a little while. 
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Next Chapter >
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Always and Forevers: @stoneyggirl​ / @hoewkeye​ / @dandywinchesterbras​ / @foxyjwls007​ / @kyjey​ / @spnbaby-67​ / @waywardbabie​ / @phoenixblack89​ / @miraclesoflove​ / @valisiofdauntless​ / @peaches007​ / @xoxabs88xox​ / @sam-girl1998-blog​ / @linki-locks11​ / @vulgar-library​ / @jades-bullshit​ / @dirty-pan-goblin​ / @little-diable​ / @waywardbaby​ / @tatted-trina6​ / @lunarmoon8​ / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone​ / @warrior-angel​
* * *
Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13​ / @akshi8278​ / @atc74​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @angelofthetrenchcoats​ / @pyroqueen-k​ / @thecreatiivecorner​ / @collette04​ / @lovealways-j​ / @noneedtoknow789​ / @socalgem1124​ / @impala1967dwinchester​ / @thoughts-and-funnies​ / @blueaura​ / @animegirlgeeky​ / @onethirstyunicorn​ / @zeppette​ / @anaelsbrunette​ / @lettersofwrittencollective​ / @beth-winchester21​ / @laxe-chester67​ / @nightsbite​ / @h0unds-of-h3ll​ / @squigglylinesdotthei​ / @an-unforgettable-place​ / @seawinggs​ / @krazykelly​ / @shelvierenablatt​ / @bobbie3939​ / @sharp-cheekbones-locked​ / @jaydahlynne​ / @michellemxndes​ / @allys-creative-bubble​ / @squirrelnotsam​ / @lyarr24​ / @deansbxtch​ / @pinkshenanigan​ / @beskaradberoya​ / @mikadwinchester​ / @chocolateheart​ / @cluz1babe​ 
* * *
Too Close Tags: @deans-baby-momma​ / @lifeofrileyp​ / @smellingofpoetry​ / @sweetaspiesammy​ / @destiel-bridesmaid​ / @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x​ / @healpeony​ / @cemini-winchester​  / @destielstuffandthings​ / @moonlightandscarlet​ / @prettysourabbie​ / @bobbysxidgits​ / @brookelan​ / @xhannahbananax03​ / @teresa-67​ / @vikki240401​ / @inkedaztec​ / @awinchester27​ / @cutebutnotinorcent​ / @cole22ann​ / @1800-bleach​ / @deangirldream​ / @ghostlygooppeanutwobbler​ / @deanscroissant​ / @jensenswinchester​ / @secretlovexo​ / @tremendouseggsmugpizza
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
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Too Close (Absent Sequel) - Chapter Six
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Tags: angst, drug use, manipulation, coercion, talk of PTSD, talk of kidnapping, dub-con, fingering, dirty talking, jerking off, oral (M&F rec), p in v, hints of creampie
Chapter WC: 4639
A/Ns: Please send me an ask to be tagged in this series!
This fic is currently being posted four weeks (8 chapters) ahead on Discord.
Too Close Masterlist // Daughter!Reader Masterlist
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Chapter Six
Your POV
You slam the bedroom door shut behind you and head straight for the bathroom, your mind on only one thing. If you’re going to be stuck alone with the man who orchestrated your kidnapping, then you need something. You feel sick everytime you look at him. But it goes beyond his involvement in what Nick did to you, and you can’t help but think about everything Sam said the night you confronted him about it. Because maybe he was right. Maybe you had asked for it, maybe he was only trying to help. 
“I know it was you.” You spat the words out whilst you had the courage to. You and Dean had had several eggnogs tonight in a desperate bid to be festive, despite the fact you were feeling anything but. But Dean couldn’t know that. 
“What was me, sweetheart?” Sam asks innocently, his tone soft and sweet and almost mocking you. He smiles softly at you as he leans back in his office chair, his eyes slowly raking up and down your body. You tug instinctively on your skirt, in hopes of making it longer, and try to stop your courage draining from your body. There was a time when you had craved male attention, even Sam’s. But since the kidnapping, since being in Paris with Dean, you couldn’t care less if no man besides your father looked at you twice ever again. 
“I heard Nick talking to you on the phone when he held me hostage.” 
Part of you has been on edge since you’ve got to Kansas. You’ve not been back here since Dean took you to Paris the night he rescued you from Nick, and the nightmares had been getting stronger in the lead up to your leaving. Until they weren’t nightmares anymore, just memories. Clear as day. Nick had been talking to Sam on the phone whilst you were sitting there tied to that chair, your head pounding thanks to the blow Nick had given you, and your cheek swollen, making it hard for you to close your mouth properly. But Nick had definitely used Sam’s name, and it had definitely sounded like he was talking to your Uncle about you and Dean. You had convinced yourself - enough to confront Sam. 
“Why would Nick talk to me, angel?” Sam asks, frowning. “Hm?” he prompts. You doubt yourself for a second, but you’ve come this far, you can’t back down.
“I’m not crazy Sam, I heard for myself,” you insist. Sam purses his lips for a moment and then sighs heavily. 
“Oh, I remember now, I called him, begging him to tell me where you were,” Sam offers. 
“No, no I remember him talking like… like you were the one in charge, he was working for you,” you tell him desperately. Sam bites his bottom lip for a long moment and then moves to get out of his chair, rounding his desk and standing in front of you, before leaning back to sit on the edge of the desk. 
“Okay, look,” he sighs, clasping his hands in his lap. “I did tell Nick to kidnap you, but let me explain,” he starts. 
The confirmation wraps around your throat and suffocates you as you struggle to breathe, instinctively turning to leave. Your eyes are set on the closed office door, but you don’t get anywhere because Sam grabs your wrist. 
“Let go of me,” you demand, “I’ll scream! I’m going to tell Daddy everything! He’s going to kill you!” You start to sob. 
“Calm down, baby girl,” Sam soothes, pulling you into him. He’s back on his feet now. The fact he’s calling you something only Dean says makes you even more mad as you struggle against his hold. He presses the side of your face against his chest. “Listen to me, calm down and listen,” he instructs. “I did it for you.” You stop struggling and consider his words. How the hell was that doing it for you? 
“Liar,” you spit out. 
Sam pushes you away and holds you at arms’ length, looking you right in the eyes. 
“Your daddy needed a push, he needed to be reminded about what matters to him. I tried talking to him, I tried to get him to listen. You were out there taking drugs and partying with strangers, letting God knows who do God knows what to you. You both needed help. I would never have let Nick hurt you.” 
“He did hurt me,” you sob, not even considering the rest of Sam’s words at first. 
“I would never have let him hurt you more than he needed to. And look — look what you’ve got now. You’ve got your Daddy in Paris all to yourself. No business, no worries, just you and him.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “I did it for you, baby. Don’t be scared of me,” he hushes, reaching up to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. You’re shaking with tears as he caresses your face, and his hand slips down to your chin and then your neck. “If anything, you should be thanking me.” 
You find the almost empty bag amongst your makeup and set about tipping what’s left out onto the counter, preparing it like usual and then leaning down to take your hit. It’s not as much as you’d like, but it’s enough. You slump down on the bench and lean back against the wall, taking some deep breaths as you wait for it to kick in, hearing the front door of the suite open and close as Dean leaves you alone with your Uncle. You’d had time to think about Sam’s reasoning behind orchestrating the kidnapping. While you still hate him for taking those measures, you can’t hate him for doing what he did for you. He did it because he knows how much you need Dean, how much you’d missed him. But you’d never asked him to do that. If you’d have known the price you had to pay for it, you’d have never wanted him to interfere.
And now the kidnapping isn’t even the problem anymore. That’s not what haunts you every time you look at your Uncle. What haunts you is the undeniable guilt that swims around your stomach knowing that you’ve betrayed Dean. You had to thank Sam, you had to show your appreciation for everything he’d done for you, but the secrets between you and Sam were building and building. Your father leaves – that’s what he does anytime something goes wrong, he leaves. And the thought of him finding out you’ve been keeping secrets and leaving makes you want to die. But he’ll leave if he knows the truth too. You truly can’t win. You’d let Sam get into your head that day, you’d done things you knew Dean would hate you for, but what else were you supposed to do? Sam’s right – you should be thanking him. 
You hear a knock on your bedroom door and there’s enough of a buzz in your veins that you brave stepping out of the bathroom. 
“What do you want?” you huff, unable to look your Uncle in the eye.  
“What? A man can’t check in with his favourite girl?” Sam asks, moving to sit on the end of the bed. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, uncomfortable with him sitting where you and Dean sleep. 
“Get out of here, this is mine and Dean’s room.” But Sam makes no efforts to move, of course. 
“If I’d have told you three years ago that you’d have your own bedroom with your Daddy, a big bed to fuck him in whenver you want, you wouldn’t have believed me, would you Princess?” 
You cross your arms over your chest, not wanting this conversation again. You already thanked him once, what more could he want? 
“Look how great it worked out for you,” he continues, sighing, “except you’re not all that happy, are you, baby?” You tense up, why would he ask that? Of course you’re happy with Dean. 
“What gives you that impression?” 
“You want a baby with Daddy, huh?” he pries. You can’t even look him in the eye, so you look down to your feet. You’d thought that a baby would fix things, that it would keep Dean here no matter what - even if the truth about what has happened came out. But now you’re not so sure anymore. 
“No.” It’s only a half lie. 
 “You know that can’t happen, don’t you, angel? What’s the matter? Bored of Dean now? Need someone new to love?” You could never be bored of Dean, you could never need someone else. It isn’t about that. Dean is everything you’ll ever want or need. “It’s not like that.” You stiffen a little as Sam stands up and steps towards you. He reaches down to push the hair back over your shoulder, and you tense a little more when he starts trailing his fingers along your jawline. 
“Because if it’s more love you’re craving then I’m right here, you know I’m still more than happy being thanked for my part in all this,” he tells you quietly, ghosting his thumb over your bottom lip. You take a shaky breath, feeling anger swell inside you. Hadn’t you thanked him enough?
“I’m fine,” you insist as you step away. Sam drops his hand and scoffs. 
“That why you’re getting high again?” he asks with a smirk. You can’t believe he’d even question that, like he doesn’t know exactly why you get high. Exactly what made you start again. 
“That’s got nothing to do with Dean and you know it,” you spit out, unable to help yourself. The hit is really kicking in now, making your head fuzzy, but you’re determined to not back down. 
“Must be getting low now,” he comments quietly, “you know, it wasn’t much, only a sample I happened to have lying around. Do you need more, baby? Need me to give you more?” You don’t answer. It was only a small amount, and that had been fine. You’d used the night you found it in his office, but you’d managed to resist it again until the baby thing, and then when Sam had come back yesterday. And now already you need more. You hadn’t wanted to let it get this far. 
You can feel the slight buzz of his hand tracing over your throat, leaving goosebumps in its wake thanks to your high, as it approaches your breast. You take a deep breath at the feeling, trying to calm the mixture of emotions swimming around inside you. You’re angry at him for touching you, scared of him, nervous about Dean finding out, but honestly? There’s a trace of arousal thrumming through your veins, and you want to blame the drugs, so you do.  
“You know I can’t stop thinking about it,” he hums, his thumb swiping a semi circle across the top of your breast over your clothes. “You were such a good girl for me when you thanked me at Christmas, made me feel so appreciated for all that hard work I put in helping you get to where you are now.” You swallow hard, body trembling at his touch, so many different thoughts and emotions making your head loud. You were a good girl. “Took me so long to give you what you wanted, you know how much I put on the line to make that kidnapping believable? How much it took to make sure you had your Daddy’s full attention for this long? And now you’ve got it, can’t help but wonder if you’ve thanked me enough. And if you need more blow too… I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.” He looks into your eyes and smirks, “it’s polite to show your gratitude, Y/N.”
“It’s polite to show your gratitude, Y/N,” Sam tells you, his hand brushing up the inside of your bare thigh, under the skirt of your dress. You swallow hard, your body tingling under his touch. You don’t want him to touch you, but you feel like you can’t say no. You do have to thank him for everything he’s done for you. And you don’t want to cheat on Dean, but maybe you don’t have much of a choice. You owe your Uncle. You have to let him do this. You whimper ever so softly when his fingers brush against the cotton crotch of your panties, and Sam pulls back for just a second, looking up at your face. “Are you going to show me how thankful you are?” he checks. Licking your lips wet, you give him a shaky nod of the head that’s so minute, you’re surprised he picked up on it. But of course he did. “Good girl, so well behaved for me,” he hums, rubbing over your crotch again. Your legs start to shake – whether from stimulation or fear, you don’t know – as he makes the material wet. 
With his free hand he reaches for your wrist and guides your hand to his crotch, encouraging you to feel over the lump that’s forming behind his slacks. 
“I’ve been thinking about how good you’re gonna feel wrapped around my cock. You know I’ve still got those naughty photos you sent me? Damn baby, a body like yours was made for me to fuck it,” Sam purrs. You try to swallow down the fear, your hand shaking slightly as you start to grope his cock of your own accord. “Gonna show me what a good little slut you are? Taught you everything you know baby, and yet it’s like I’m the last guy to experience it for myself.” You widen your stance a little, partly subconsciously, and hate yourself for it because now Sam can fit his whole hand between your legs and tease the edges of your panties. “C’mon baby, don’t be shy, you know what I want,” he prompts. 
You draw another shaky breath and reach up to unclasp his trousers, pulling down the zipper and getting inside to wrap your hand delicately around his hard length. You know from seeing it before that he’s longer than Dean, but not quite as thick, but you’d forgotten how long as you stroke up and down hesitantly. 
“That’s it baby, fuck,” he hums, hooking his fingers under the cotton of your panties and pulling them to one side, before pressing against your entrance. “You’re so fucking wet for me, you thinking about me fucking you open, sweetheart? Imagining how good I’m gonna feel inside that tight little pussy?” You nod hesitantly, knowing that’s what he’ll want to hear, and bite your bottom lip as he slowly pushes one finger inside you. “Fuck, I bet your Daddy lost his damn mind taking your virginity, can’t deny I’m jealous,” Sam gasps. “Can’t imagine you even tighter than you are right now, though. I don’t think I’d have fit.”  
Sam stands up and encourages you both to swap places, but as you stand in front of his desk, he spins you away from him. He reaches forward and clears some space, before gently encouraging you to bend over the desk, which you do so cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re bent over now, your cheek pressed to the smooth, cold mahogany wood beneath you as Sam lifts your skirt up and over your ass, and then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and leaving them at your knees. You glance back over your shoulder when you don’t feel him touching you, and watch as he lowers to his knees behind you, and then his large hands reach up to pull your ass apart. Your insides twist as you feel his hot breath against your core and your fingers search for something to grip onto, but are met with nothing but waxy, polished mahogany.
Sam eventually presses his mouth to your centre, licking one strip from your opening to your clit and then sucking it into his mouth. He hums loudly, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your ass as he starts to lap at your juices. He pulls back, but only to say: “fuck, baby girl you’re delicious.” before eagerly licking at your opening again. Your head is fuzzy with arousal now – you can’t help that it feels so good, you can’t help that the stimulation is getting you to the edge, that you’re almost hoping he won’t stop. You know you shouldn’t be feeling or thinking these things, but you can’t help it. You close your eyes and pretend it’s Dean, but the scratch of stubble is missing, the feel of his hands isn’t the same. Sam’s are larger, cover more of your ass than Dean’s do, and his hums aren’t as deep. You whimper, involuntarily, and squirm against his hold when he licks over your clit. 
“You want my cock, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? You’re fucking dripping for it,” he grunts, and you hear him moving behind you. You don’t answer, but only because you’re afraid that the answer is yes. Sam’s hand feels larger as it wraps around your waist, and then you feel him pressing against your centre. You draw a deep, calming breath, and then feel him slowly push his way inside. “Jesus fuck, baby – shit you feel good,” he gasps, laughing breathlessly. You’re not sure you can even breathe as Sam pushes further and further into you, slowly like he’s savouring the moment. Each second seems to drag like his cock does inside you, slow and meticulous, finding every single ridge and bump as it passes. He holds himself still for a moment, and you’re wondering what he’s waiting for. Does he want you to fuck him? Does he want you to moan and beg for it? 
The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you is an unexpected sensation, and one that makes you gasp for air as you clench involuntarily around him. 
“Fuck baby girl, hold it, don’t do that,” he warns, “gonna make me cum before we’ve even begun.” You try your best to stop yourself from clamping around him, “good girl, that’s it.” He slowly pulls out and then thrusts back in, his grip on your waist almost bruising now, but you don’t mind it, surprisingly. “That feel good, sweetheart?” he checks, fucking you slowly. You don’t reply, looking back over your shoulder. “Tell me,” he demands, “tell me how good I feel inside you.” 
“S-so good, Uncle Sammy,” you whimper, desperate to please him. 
“Good girl, take me so well, fuck we should’ve done this a long time ago, huh? Should’ve fucked you the day I gave you that lesson. Maybe it would’ve been me sinking my cock into you every night in Paris, huh?” 
“Ye-yes, Uncle Sammy,” you agree quietly. 
“That’s right, let Uncle Sammy make you feel good, Princess.”
“I don’t want to do it again,” you tell him shakily, whilst trying to seem confident. 
“Why not, baby girl? Didn’t I make you feel good?” he checks. You don’t want to upset him. It did feel good, but you didn’t want it to. But no matter what you say or do here, you might upset him. 
“Ye–” Your voice breaks as you try to reply, and so you clear your throat. “Yes, but if Dean knew he’d be upset.” 
“Well, I won’t tell your Daddy if you don’t, I’m easy to persuade to keep quiet, you know?” he chuckles. You can feel tears threaten the back of your eyes now. 
“I don’t want to do it again,” you repeat, a little more firmly. “I didn’t want to do it the first time.” You regret saying it the second it leaves your mouth, Sam’s hand retreating and he looks shocked at your confession. 
“Oh? But you never said no. You never told me to stop, did you, hm?” he asks. 
You’re lost for words, because he’s right. You never did say no or tell him to stop. So, maybe it is all your fault after all. Maybe all you had needed to do was say no, and this would’ve never happened. You are the reason that you cheated on Dean, and yet all this time you’d been blaming Sam. 
“I just thought you were being my good girl, showing me how grateful you were. But if you want Dean to find out –”
“No!” you shoot out, shaking your head. If it’s all your fault, Dean can never know about this. “No, please.” You wait on baited breath for Sam to confirm that he won’t tell Dean anything.
“We won’t do anything you don’t want to, Y/N,” Sam sighs, stepping back. “I’ll just tell Dean what’s been going on, maybe he can help you.” Just the thought of Dean knowing makes you wanna throw up. But you’re too high to think clearly now, all that’s swimming around your mind is how this is all your fault. This mess is because of you. And you need to make sure that Dean never knows what a little slut you’ve been. 
“Sam, wait,” you grumble, hoping you can figure this out together, come to some agreement.
“No, it’s fine. Am I disappointed? Yeah, but it’s fine,” he tells you, rummaging in his pocket. He’s disappointed. Oh fuck. Sam pulls out a small bag of white powder, but he’s not looking for that, not that you’re paying any attention to what he’s actually looking for, because all you can think as you stare at it is how much you need it. How much you’re gonna need it if you want to cope with keeping this secret from Dean. “Look, you don’t wanna hang out with me, I get it, I’ll see if Dean needs me.” Sam snaps you out of your trance, and you finally take in his words. He’s going to leave and if you’ve upset him, he might tell Dean. And he might take the coke with him, too. 
“Wait,” you call out, reaching to grip his arm. “I am grateful for everything you’ve done. I am, and I –” you can’t help but stare at the coke. Need it. Need more. Sam reaches forward and holds the side of your face. 
“Why don’t you remind me, baby girl?” he hums. You know exactly what he wants, and glance down to his crotch. This is the right thing to do, right? It keeps Sam happy, it shows him you’re grateful, and you get the coke. You nod your head slowly in agreement. 
“Okay, just – promise you won’t tell Dean anything,” you plead.
“Of course not, sweetheart, our little secret like everything else, so long as you’re a good girl f’me.” You nod once more, and then slowly get down onto your knees, reaching up and palming over the slight bulge that’s started to form in his slacks. You look up through your lashes at him and watch as he throws the coke and his cell down onto the bed next to you. You watch the bag carefully for a moment before fixing your attention back on Sam. 
You offer him a soft smile, and then reach up to undo his pants, tugging them and his boxers down. His cock is half hard as you wrap your hand around it and jerk it slowly, watching as Sam’s mouth falls open slightly and he grunts. He’s watching you intently, and you hate his stare on you so you focus on what you’re doing, leaning forward and sucking him down. 
“Holy shit,” Sam gasps, gripping the back of your head, hard. He holds you down, so your nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, but luckily, he’s not hard enough to make you choke yet. “Wondered what that mouth feels like for so long, baby,” he grunts. You can feel him grow in your mouth as it fills it more and more, pressing at the back of your throat. You start to try to withdraw, and you can tell from the grip on your hair that he’s got that Sam’s enjoying this far too much considering you’re not putting in much effort yet. Maybe if you actually start trying, you’ll get this over with quicker. The sooner that bag of coke is yours and he leaves you alone, the better.
Sam reluctantly slips his hand away from your head and lets you retreat, and you look up at him through your lashes as you pull back to his tip and swirl your tongue around it, sucking softly. You know from experience during your party girl phase how to fake it until you make it, and the buzz of coke in your system is just enough to drive you forward. You suck a little more enthusiastically and bob your head up and down, over and over. Sam starts grunting and gasping above you.
“Fuck, baby, feels so good, fuck wait, wait,” he pants, desperately. You take him deeper, sucking harder and then reach up to softly cup his balls, your other hand tugging and twisting on the length you can’t fit in your mouth. “Fuck, angel, please, wait,” he begs. “Baby, I”m gonna cum.” 
“Cum for me, Uncle Sammy, please,” you beg, before taking him back into your mouth. 
“Jesus, okay,” he agrees breathlessly. Only a few seconds later you taste the salty tang on your tongue and swallow it down, pulling back and wiping your lips clean. 
Sam pants above you and then slowly steps back and puts himself away as you stay kneeling. 
“Fuck, that was good,” he chuckles softly. “Too good,” he adds, a little awkwardly. You couldn’t be happier that he came so soon, but you can’t tell him that. “I urm, I’m gonna just freshen up,” he excuses – like you care why he’s going. You nod, pretending you’re not relieved he’s finally leaving and he steps back, reaching down for his phone, but thankfully not the coke, before turning and leaving you alone. As soon as the door clicks shut you’re quick to grab the bag and get to your feet, stuffing it where the previous one had lived in your makeup bag. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. You lean over the sink and take some deep breaths. When you look in the mirror you notice your lips are a little puffy, the lipstick you’d put on that morning slightly smudged on your chin. You scrub at it, but it’s stained the skin, and you try to hold back tears when it won’t come off. It’s just a shameful reminder of what you’ve done. Again. 
Sam stills inside you, and as he pulls out you can feel his climax trickle down your thighs. You bite back tears as he steps away, and you can hear him rummage in a drawer of his desk, and then you feel something soft dabbing at the mess between your legs as you assume Sam’s cleaning you up. You start to get up from being bent over the desk and notice the drawer he’s opened, and the small bag of coke inside. You need it. It’s the only thing that’s going to make you better. It’s the only thing that’ll make you forget what just happened. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Sam focused on cleaning himself up and you quickly reach for the bag and hold it tight in your grasp. You stand up, and with your free hand right your panties. 
“I should get back to Daddy,” you excuse quietly. 
“Sure,” Sam agrees, “thanks sweetheart. I really appreciate you showing me how thankful you are.” 
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
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Too Close (Absent Sequel) - Chapter Two
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Tags: angst, mentions of smut, mentions of taking drugs, hints of non con, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of nudes, daddy kink
Chapter WC: ± 2.2K
A/Ns: Please send me an ask to be tagged in this series!
This fic is currently being posted four weeks (8 chapters) ahead on Discord.
Too Close Masterlist // Daughter!Reader Masterlist
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Chapter Two
Sam’s POV
> Miss you so much Daddy, need your cock so badly x
Sam stares at the text that’s just come through and sighs as he pushes back in his office chair and closes his laptop. He purses his lips as he reads the text again, and then glances out of his office window, towards the pool. He misses seeing Y/N take her nightly swims, watching the way she would glide back and forth through the water, in those tiny teasing bikinis she used to wear. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to see that again right now. He’s been stressed for weeks, and he needs some kind of relief. It didn’t take him long to start understanding why Dean used to bury himself in pussy and coke when he wasn’t working. Sam had never really been one for the more colourful side of the industry, always too busy focusing on getting to where he is now, but he had underestimated just how much weight would be on his shoulders, being the sole man in charge. 
He’d considered hiring a right hand man, but he didn’t trust anyone - not even Dean. He couldn’t give Dean any kind of position that could let him worm his way back into power. Besides, Dean wasn’t even interested, too busy with everything he suddenly had going for him in Paris. At first, Sam didn’t have the same hold over Cas that Dean supposedly did, because Cas didn’t quiver every time Sam barked an order like he had with Dean. Dean had had a way with Cas that got things done, that Sam had never really figured out. But he’d found his own ways of getting into Cas’ good books eventually. About eighteen months ago, Sam found himself getting his knuckles dirty with Claire’s boyfriend’s blood. 
He pretended he was beating the guy up for violating Claire when she got a little too out of it, at yet another company function she’d dragged him to, but Sam knew exactly who the douchebag he would be sending away in an ambulance was. He was the guy that introduced Y/N to drugs and partying, and turned her into one of those girls for a while. Sam’s not dumb, he knows the asshole probably took advantage of his little girl any chance he got at those parties, and that very thought had Sam seeing red, until that same red stained his clothes. Cas had been so grateful that Sam had stepped in, and since that day he’d been a little more respectful of Sam as his new boss. 
But Cas wasn’t the only one who was grateful. The first time Claire offered her appreciation, Sam found them both alone in his office, with her biting her lip and rounding his side of the desk, leaning back on it and stretching out her long bare legs in front of her. Sam can remember how the tiny mini skirt she was wearing that day did barely anything to cover her decency, and he wonders what he’d have made of Y/N wearing something that slutty around an older man that she didn’t truly know all that well. Claire’s intentions were clear the moment she pushed her hair back over her shoulder to make sure her low cut top showed enough cleavage. Sam had been particularly stressed that day, and he’d had no trouble taking it out on the blonde the same age as Y/N, as he bent her over his desk and let her thank him for his help, eventually shooting his load down the back of her throat. 
At the time, it had been a while since Sam had let go like that. He’d been so focused on the business and then on Y/N, he hadn’t realised how much better he felt with some relief. And work kept him in Kansas far more often than he’d hoped, meaning that he barely got to go to Paris. And Y/N has only been back here once. So without her around as much as he’d like, he had needed something to take the edge off that was a little more local - and Claire was just that. He hadn’t expected her to want to repeat that evening in his office, but she came back only a few days later with wide eyes and a playful smirk, and Sam figured there was no harm in fucking her against the office door, and making her scream out his name as he thought about Y/N and how tight she’d feel around his cock. 
Claire became a regular thing. Every few days she’d turn up and he’d take out all his frustrations on her, fuck her until she could barely walk straight back to her Daddy, and he’d leave around little bags of product for her to find, which always kept her coming back. And Sam wanted her to come back. Claire was the only thing making his job just a little easier to handle, and it helped that everytime he sank his cock inside whatever hole she offered him, he’d think of Y/N. If Sam knew Claire was coming, he’d flick through the photos of Y/N he still had on his phone and get himself worked up in preparation. Sam had even got Claire calling him Daddy. It didn’t sound right in her mouth at first, but he soon got used to it, making her scream it every time he near enough split her in two. She’d be so high and out of her mind, she’d do anything he demanded of her. A real little slut her real Daddy would be so proud of. 
Claire was turning Sam into everything he’d always condemned Dean for, but he didn’t care. Maybe if he was more like her Daddy, Y/N would finally want him. 
But Sam put a stop to all that when Y/N finally came back to Kansas for Christmas. He’d realised that Claire was only a distraction, and not the placeholder he had tried to make her. With Claire scratching at least some of the itch, Sam had let his focus slip from the real prize, and he couldn’t have that. Having Y/N around made him realise that - made him remember what he really wanted. Claire paled in comparison to his darling niece and always would. No matter how slutty, needy and desperate for his attention she was. He only wanted to give that to Y/N now. 
She’s his, she belongs to him, and now that he’s got the business and there’s no chance of Dean taking it back without a fight, Sam’s starting to regret ever letting his brother anywhere near Y/N. He had figured Dean would get bored of her by now. Lord knows Dean’s barely lasted more than a few days with any other girl. Hell, he couldn’t even keep it in his pants for a month after finding out Jamie was pregnant.  Sam had been positive that Dean would’ve conquered Y/N, used her up and moved on after a few weeks of sex fuelled nights in Paris. Sam was half expecting Dean to come back to Kansas with his tail between his legs, and beg Sam for some kind of position in the company. 
But Dean has bigger and better things in Paris apparently. He has that hotel, and he’d bought a couple of restaurants since then, and most importantly, he still has Y/N. If only Dean knew - but he could never know. Sam’s fairly sure Dean would kill him if he ever found out the truth about Y/N. And not just who her real father is - something Sam spent years making himself forget, perfecting it so well he truly did start seeing himself as Y/N’s uncle. But Dean couldn’t find out about the other stuff either. Dean could never find out that Sam had put all those dirty thoughts into Y/N’s head about fucking him. Dean could never even think that Sam had taught his baby girl how to fuck herself, or showed her porn, or put her up to those seductive photos. 
At the thought of them, Sam reaches for his cell and opens the private folder. He clicks the first thumbnail and his eyes meet with the bikini top pushed to one side, revealing her hard nipple. All pink and perfect and just right for between his teeth. It feels like a whole lifetime ago now, when she’d trusted him enough to send him these photos, desperate for the validation she was craving from her daddy. Needy and eager to know she was desirable, that she was one of those slutty little girls that Dean ruined for breakfast and forgot about by lunch. She’d trusted Sam with that. He should’ve taken his opportunity whilst he had it. If he’d have been smarter, he probably could’ve gotten everything he wanted in one fell swoop. The business and Y/N. At the very least he should’ve swooped in to take her a lot sooner, before she was settled and living the perfect dream life with Dean in Paris. 
He had had every intention of making her his the first time he visited Paris, only six months after they moved there, but after Sam caught her stuffed full with his brother a few days into his trip, Dean had spent the remainder of Sam’s time there trying to make things right and justifying what he and Y/N were doing together, and Sam had to act like he didn’t know - that he wasn’t any the wiser. Sure they’d both suggested in the past that their feelings for Y/N weren’t natural, but it was a far cry from acting on it. And Sam could no longer play blissfully ignorant to the fact that his brother was fucking his little girl. Sam had tried to at least pretend to have to come around to the idea - and it wasn’t all that hard. He still wasn’t okay with it. But Dean didn’t have to know it was jealousy that tainted his acceptance, and not disgust. 
So his first trip hadn’t gone as planned, and then business got stressful. Sam had always been respected by people, but he’d never been seen as the top dog, and he’d heard the rumours about Dean and his daughter running off to France and why that might be. Sam ignored them all for the most part, but didn’t mind setting some records straight when he needed to. It had been a swim upstream for him the last couple of years, but finally, he thinks he might be keeping his head above choppy waters. Especially now he’s not inviting Claire around to distract him. It had been six months since she’d last been of any use to him, but she still tried. She’d send him texts begging for his cock, turn up to try (and fail) to seduce him, and sometimes she even sent slutty photos of what he’s supposedly missing. At that thought, his eyes glance back to his cell, and he smirks softly, scrolling to the next photo of Y/N. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees the image of her naked and sitting with her legs spread in that closet, it still never fails to get Sam’s cock painfully hard, and he mindlessly opens his slacks to sort out the problem he’s suddenly found himself with. 
-
Sam’s feeling just a little better when he eventually leaves his office, and finds Dean still in his. Usually Dean’s eager to get back to Paris after showing his face and making an attempt to catch up with his brother for a day or two, so Sam’s surprised to see he’s still here, almost a week later. And after a little conversation about it, Sam learns that Dean’s avoiding her. This could be his way in. Plus, it gets him out of Kansas for a little while, maybe Claire will finally get the hint too. Dean can’t give Y/N what she wants, and Sam knows that guilt is gonna crush him sooner or later, and he’ll leave Y/N alone and vulnerable, and Sam needs to be around when that happens. If he starts laying the groundwork now, Y/N is bound to turn to him for comfort. 
"So, London is a distraction," Sam finally says, watching Dean sigh and rub his eyes. 
"She just needs a new project, that's all," Dean insists. "Once she gets planning and designing in London she'll forget about all of this." Sam nods slowly, understanding Dean’s logic, but hoping it fails, before he clears his throat. 
“Listen, I need a break, why don’t I come back to Paris with you? Having me around might help to distract Y/N a little bit too, help keep her mind off things, and it gives you a break too.” Dean purses his lips a little and considers Sam’s words.
“Yeah, that sounds good, Sammy,” he agrees. “Thank you.” 
“Of course, so let me tie up a few business things and we can leave within the hour.” 
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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years
Text
Too Close (Absent Sequel) - Chapter Nineteen
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Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Tags: angst, anger, nudes, mentions of manipulation, drug use, threats, violence, mentions of rape, attempted murder, mentions of cheating
Chapter WC: ± 2.3
A/Ns: Please send me an ask to be tagged in this series!
This fic is now complete on Discord.
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Chapter Nineteen
Dean’s POV
“Just stay here, I’ll come and get you when I’ve dealt with Sam,” Dean reassures Jamie. He’s glad that Y/N wanted to stay back at the hotel they’d checked into an hour ago. The last thing he needs is to worry about her too. He’s no longer sure what his brother is even capable of, and he doesn’t want Y/N around for him to find out. Part of him is still in denial. His own brother couldn’t do any of that stuff, right?! But a bigger part of him than he cares to admit knows it’s true – his gut tells him so. He still loves Sam, he’s pretty sure he always will, but he loves Y/N more. Even if she’s not his little girl by blood, his protective instinct doesn’t care. It goes beyond that now. It goes beyond anything else. He’d do anything for that girl, he’s sure of it.
“What do you mean dealt with Sam?” Jamie prompts, fear in her eyes. Dean just looks at her, hoping she’ll catch on so he doesn’t have to say the words.
“Jamie, he’s fucked with the wrong man’s girl,” Dean tells her through gritted teeth. “Don’t you want that bastard dead for what he did to your daughter?... to you?” Jamie swallows hard and then barely nods her head. “Stay here,” he repeats.
He instinctively reaches into the back of his slacks for his gun, and pulls it out to check the bullets and load it, and then pushes it back into his slacks again as he heads for Sam’s office. He practically kicks the door down when he arrives and instantly holds his gun up in front of him, his heart thudding in his chest – but he’s only met with an empty room.
“Fuck,” Dean mutters, glancing around the room and seeing Sam’s laptop on the desk. Dean looks back over his shoulder before heading over to it, lifting the lid and watching it blink to life. The password box appears and Dean huffs, pursing his lips slightly. He places the gun down and sits in the chair, glaring at the bright screen for a moment. His eyes drift over to a photo of Sam and Y/N at the prom Dean had thrown for her, and he glares, reaching to pick it up and look at it closer.
How had he never seen it before? The way Sam’s hand was always slightly too low on her waist, the way he held her a little too close for an “uncle”. Dean must’ve been so caught up in his own guilt, he’d never noticed the way Sam was so inappropriate. And there was that very night, that Sam had admitted to his less than natural feelings towards Y/N, but Dean had naively believed that Sam would never act on them, and Y/N had promised he’d never touched her in that way. Dean had never even considered that Sam could manipulate her so much. Sam was obsessed with Y/N, and clearly still is. Dean drops the frame and quickly types in Y/N’s name into the password box. It doesn’t work, so he bites his bottom lip and tries her birthday instead. The laptop blinks to life, bringing up the windows that Sam had open previously.
Copies of his text messages sit on the window on the top, and he can see he’s got a message thread with Claire. Cas’s Claire? Dean can’t help but click on it and see the messages from over the last several months. Almost always her texting him, with very little response from Sam. Miss you Daddy. So wet for you Daddy. Dean wonders for a split second if Sam’s Claire’s father too, but then dismisses the thought immediately. Claire’s sent photos and videos too. Dean frowns and closes the chat, seeing a folder opened behind it labelled ‘Y/N’, and he opens it to see the photos that Dean knows only too well. The very ones that Y/N used to send to Dean himself back when she was trying to seduce him. Dean feels sick, deleting the photos from the laptop before closing the window straight away, and then he grabs his gun and storms out of the room. Maybe Cas will know where Sam is.
As Dean rounds the corner to the hall where Cas’s desk is situated, he can feel himself getting more and more pissed off. He puts his gun away, not wanting to freak Cas out when he has no intention of using the thing on his close friend anyway, and storms into Cas’s office to see that Cas is already standing up, his back to the wall.
“Where is he?!” Dean growls. Dean knows he can trust Cas. Not only was Cas his right hand man for over twenty years, but according to Jamie, he’s the one that tipped her off about the hit Sam had put on her and helped her flee to England. Though the thought that Cas had kept that from Dean for all these years makes anger bubble in his stomach. Did Cas know that Y/N is Sam’s too?
“Dean,” Cas chokes out.
“Where the fuck is my brother?!” Dean demands, pinning Cas against the wall with his arm.
“You just missed him,” Cas splutters out.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asks quieter this time, staring Cas right in the eyes.
“Tell you what, Dean?” Cas chokes. “About Jamie, about what my brother is fucking capable of!”
“I was keeping her safe,” Cas excuses.
“Did you know?” Dean grunts next. Cas looks at him dumbfounded. “Did you know that Y/N is Sam’s?” The way Cas’s eyes widen at Dean’s statement gives him his answer.
“No, Dean I swear,” Cas confirms.
“Where is that sonofabitch? This ends now,” Dean snarls.
“On his way to see my daughter,” Cas swallows, tears glazing over his eyes. Dean eases up at that, and takes a heavy breath, realising he, Y/N and Jamie aren’t the only victims here.
“I’m gonna make him pay, Cas,” Dean confirms.
“When you’ve done that, maybe you’ll consider taking the company back. It’s dying here.”
“One thing at a time,” Dean tells him, stepping back, “check on Claire.” Dean leaves the room in pursuit of Sam. Cas said he’d only just missed him, meaning Sam could still be in the manor somewhere. He bolts towards the front door via the quickest route, which happens to be past his office, but as he gets closer he hears voices.
“What are you talking about, Jamie? The little bitch begged me for it,” Sam snided.
“How could you do that to your own daughter?” Jamie splutters out. “She was happy with Dean, she was getting her life together.”
“She’s mine, and Dean has a habit of being selfish,” Sam replies.
“Selfish? At least Dean cares about her. At least Dean loves her, you just want to... what? Own her? Control her like you did me?”
“I never fucking controlled you, if I did you wouldn’t have wanted to run and tell Dean the truth.”
“You made me believe I was in love with you, of course I wanted to tell Dean the truth, so we could be a family! I thought you wanted that – wanted me and Y/N,” Jamie sobs. Dean presses his back to the wall, not wanting to be seen. Sam would never admit any of this out loud to Dean, so listening in on this conversation is how he’s going to learn the truth, apparently.
“No, I wanted the business,” Sam corrects her, “I never wanted you. I never wanted to get you pregnant. If you told Dean the truth, John would’ve kicked me out onto the streets, would’ve kicked all of us out. Is that what you wanted?”
“No, he wouldn’t have, Y/N would’ve still been his granddaughter,” Jamie argues.
“Oh c’mon Jamie, don’t be fucking stupid,” Sam scoffs. “I was never John’s favourite. That was always Dean. I was never even in the running for the fucking business. He would look for any excuse to kick out Mary’s bastard son. He never wanted me, I was never his.”
Dean’s eyes widen and he feels nausea swim around his stomach. What the fuck is Sam talking about – of course Sam is John’s.
“And you? Cheating on his favourite son with me? Well, you’d just be the same cheating bitch that my mother was. Getting pregnant and claiming that Dean’s the father. John would’ve hated all three of us. You wanted that for us? For Y/N?”
“No, don’t you fucking dare pretend to be the victim here, you just didn’t want anything getting in the way of your chance to be the boss. You didn’t ever care about me and you didn’t care about Y/N until Dean had her. You’re a fucking psychopath. You think I’m going to believe anything you say?” Dean can’t deny that Jamie is right, and now he doesn’t know what to think or believe. His head is swimming with possibilities.
“Why do you think my mother is dead? John found out about the affair and finished her off, you’re lucky Dean doesn’t take after John in that respect,” Sam replies smoothly.
“You mean like you tried to finish me off? Maybe you are John’s son, after all.”
Sam laughs easily, “yes, how are you alive by the way? They found a body.”
“Turns out that Nick’s easy to fool,” Jamie retorts. Dean knows he should be walking in there, he’s heard enough to kill the sonofabitch right there on the spot, but he can’t stop thinking about Sam’s words. What if Sam’s right? What if John isn’t his father? What if Sam’s not his true brother? Mary did die months after Sam was born, and John never liked to talk about it. What if her affair was the reason? Would she even cheat on him?
“Well they say when you want a job done, do it yourself,” Sam sighs.
“Wait, wait, Sam…” Jamie panics, and it’s enough to stir Dean back into action as he bursts through the door with his gun raised. He can see Sam pointing his own gun at Jamie now, who’s got her hands raised in defence.
“You son of a bitch,” Dean growls at his brother.
“Dean,” Sam chokes out, swallowing hard. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“I fucking heard everything, you bastard,” Dean tells him. Sam’s eyes widen and he relents, holding the gun away from Jamie. “Get out of here,” Dean urges Jamie, who rushes past Dean and leaves the room. “When were you gonna tell me?” Dean growls, turning his attention back on Sam. “Once you had Y/N all to yourself? You fucking bastard, you knew all this time Y/N wasn’t even mine. You lied to us both over and over again.”
“Dean, man, c’mon. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to fuck Jamie, she was obsessed with me, I just… I got carried away, you know how it is.”
“Don’t give me that fucking bullshit, Sam!” Dean growls.
“I didn’t mean to get her pregnant, Dean I swear. I freaked out, I was only nineteen, dude,” Sam tries next.
“For once in your life, Sam, just tell the fucking truth. If you were that innocent, why did you try to have Jamie killed?”
Sam swallows hard and his mouth opens, but no noise comes out, so Dean only steadies his gun.
“All right, I didn’t want you to know the truth. You loved Y/N and I didn’t want Dad to kick me out and… I’m sorry, I wish I could take it back,” Sam splutters. “Do you? Because you just tried to fucking kill her again!” Dean grits his teeth, “and you know what? I would’ve gotten over Y/N not being mine. Hell, I would’ve been grateful for that eventually, given how I feel about her,” Dean scoffs, “but then you had to go and fuck with her, putting all those thoughts in her head. And if that wasn’t enough, you fucking kidnapped her, fucking her up beyond measure. And THEN, when she was finally getting better, you fucking raped her and fed her drugs.” Dean chokes on tears, shaking his head.
“Dean, c’mon,” Sam laughs humorlessly, “you think I’d do that to my own daughter? She was begging me for coke, willing to do anything for just one hit. She wanted me so badly, I – I’m only human, I couldn’t resist. You know exactly what I’m talking about, I know you do. When you two started fucking around? That’s what she was like with me. She’s just lying so you don’t leave her. So that I look like the bad guy.”
Dean shakes his head, hardly able to believe a word Sam’s saying. Sam’s been playing mind games for years now, and if Dean didn’t know any better he probably would have believed it all. His blood boils. How can he stand there and lie so easily? Even after being confronted like this? Dean charges for Sam, gripping his shirt collar and repeatedly hitting him in the face with the handle of his gun, sending Sam flying to the floor. But Dean doesn’t stop. He straddles his brother’s waist and continues to hit him, feeling every ounce of his anger behind each blow. Sam’s face is bloody and he’s barely fighting back. Dean holds the gun correctly once more and points it to Sam’s forehead.
“Were you lying?” Dean asks, panting heavily. “About Mom? Are you really someone else’s?” He needs to know, he just needs to know.
“If you kill me, you’ll never find out, will you?” Sam sniggers, before coughing. The sonofabitch. Dean raises his gun higher, still aiming it at Sam’s head and then pulls the trigger.
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