#sam x neice!reader

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Stress Relief

The way Roy Kent (and Brett Goldstein) live in my head rent free 24/7.

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Fluff, some making out, and Roy Kent being a cocky little shit

Enjoy!

You wiped your hands clean on a towel and smiled at the young man on the table.

“Okay Sam, you’re all done. Continue to work on those stretches at home and you’ll be in tip top shape for the game next weekend.”

Sam Obisanya smiled back at you, slowly getting up off the table.

“Thank you again, so much. I will do all the exercises you’ve recommended, and I will also look into Pilates classes.”

You gave Sam a quizzical look.

“You don’t have to do that Sam, it’s just a sprained ankle…”

The young man laughed.

“Oh no I know, I just am interested in Pilates. I’ve heard it does wonders for your body, core, and state of mind.”

Sam looked at you so genuinely, that you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. He was absolutely precious. Sam smiled at you again and waved goodbye before exiting the treatment room. Between Sam’s ankle, Dani’s knee and Jamie’s hamstring, you had been working nonstop all week, doing your best to heal them as best you could.

You were jotting down notes in Sam’s folder when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!”

Roy Kent walked in, shut the door behind him and let out the deepest sigh/growl you’ve heard in a while. You looked up and put the folder down on your desk, taking a second to admire the grouchy coach. Roy stood there, arms at his sides and shoulders back in his usual stance. His biceps bulging from underneath the short sleeves of his coach jersey, the watch on his right wrist gleaming under the florescent lighting in the treatment room. Your eyes trailed to Roy’s face; his brows drawn together in their usual frown and his lips following suit.

“Well hello to you, too,” you greeted playfully.

Roy raised an eyebrow at you and rolled his eyes warm heartedly.

“Hi,” he exhaled, his deep voice reverberating through you. God you loved his voice.

You waited for him to continue, seeing the thoughts running through his mind. Roy took another breath and let it all out.

“These fucks have got me more stressed out than the “girls nine under nine” ever did. Fucking shits.” Roy points a finger to the door behind him. I swear, if I have to hear Zava go on about his fucking avocado farm one more time, I’m going fucking quit and go back to being a fucking pundit.”

And there it was. You nodded sympathetically and moved off from the desk you were leaning on and waved your hand to the table in front of you, signally Roy to have a seat. The coach followed suit, letting out a huff of air as he did. You stepped on a mechanical lever underneath the table, causing the table to lower so that Roy was at a comfortable height for you. You placed your hands on his shoulders gently before giving them a tight squeeze.

“You’re not going to quit, baby. You just need a second to relax. You haven’t been to Maureen’s house in a few weeks now that I think of it. When was your last yoga session with the ladies?” You pressed down on Roy’s shoulders again, feeling the immense amount of tension he was keeping at the base of his neck.

Roy grunted at the feeling of your hands, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Maureen’s been dealing with her son’s upcoming wedding, and Carol’s neice is going through a divorce so we’ve all been pushing back our next yoga date.”

You smiled at how invested Roy was with his little yoga group. He always managed to melt your heart with the simplest of things.

“Well then, the solution is simple. You need a little bit of stress relief. You’re so tense Roy, all this pent up pressure isn’t going to do you any good. I’m going to take care of it, okay?”

You spoke as gently while beginning to massage Roy’s shoulders. You’ve been told by the team that you give the best massages known to man. And while it was part of your job as the team’s physio, right now you weren’t a PT. You were Roy’s girlfriend, ready to help your man relax. A few moments pass in silence, the only sounds in the room were of Roy’s deep breathing, and occasional moan whenever you came across a particular tender spot.

“Fuuuuuuuck” Roy groaned, relishing in the feel of your hands digging into the knots in his neck and shoulders. “That feels incredible,” he sighed, getting lost in the feel of it all. You smiled to yourself, glad to be able to help him in any way. Thirty minutes go by until you could no longer find any strained muscles under his shirt. You gave Roy’s shoulders one final squeeze, leaning down to give him a small kiss on the back of his head.

“All done. Hope you’re feeling a little less stressed, my love.”

Roy turns his head to face you, his eyes glossy as if he were in a dreamy state of mind.

“That was fucking mind blowing and exactly what I needed. Fuck you’re amazing. Thank you,” he praised, slowly turning his body and swinging his legs over the other edge of the table so that he was facing you. You beamed at his compliment, moving forward as well so that you were standing in-between his legs, the table allowing you to finally be able to stare directly into Roy’s eyes. Those deep, chocolate colored eyes that you’ve been in love with for quite some time.

“You’re welcome, baby.” You reply, leaning forward to give Roy’s a quick yet sweet peck on his lips. You loved the feel of his soft lips, plush and pillowy against your own. How something so soft could voice so many “fucks” in a day, you’ll never understand. But you loved it nonetheless. When you pulled back, you noticed Roy’s brows had softened significantly and there was a look of adoration in his eyes. You were sure it mirrored the look you gave him 95% of the time.

“Once Maureen and Carol get settled, and your yoga routine goes back to normal, your stress levels won’t be as high anymore. But until then, I’m more than happy to help you relieve it. Whether here or at home, you just come to me and I’ve got you. Okay?”

You gave Roy another little peck before you felt his lips twitch up into a smirk. You pulled back to find him looking at you mischievously. The hands that were unconsciously placed on your hips while you kissed began to slowly slide up your sides and back down to your hips.

“Going to help me relieve some stress, hmm? And at work no less? How naughty.”

The look he gave you in that moment set your insides on fire, and Roy took that moment to pull you closer to him, arms locking behind you to keep you in place. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you wrapped your own arms around his neck, scooting as close as you could, your chest pressed up against his.

“Me? Naughty? I’m an angel,” you teased, drawing a pretend halo above your head.

Roy growled and leaned in, claiming your lips with his. You sighed into his kiss, your nails gently carding through his hair at the back of his head. Roy broke the kiss first but didn’t relent, moving his lips to your neck and planting wet kisses up and down the column of your throat. You felt your knees weaken, like they always did whenever Roy found that deliciously sweet spot right below your ear. You gasped, and Roy smiled onto your skin, kissing his way down slowly once more. His hands began to roam your body as yours found purchase on his shoulders.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whispered and giggled as you shivered when you felt Roy lick and suck at the base of your throat. Roy’s deep chuckle vibrated against you.

“Aww baby, you can just call me Roy,” he mused and rolled your eyes.

“Little shit,” you said breathlessly, pulling back as far as Roy would allow you, his arms still trapping you to him.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, I do have both Bumbercatch and Zorreaux due for an assessment soon. Buuuuut I can absolutely help you with your little stress relief issue at home later, okay?”

Roy smiled at you and nodded, grunting in agreement.

“Just one thing though, darling. You and I both know it’s not a “little” stress relief issue. Shall I remind you of last time, when you struggled to get all of me insi-“ you immediately cut him off, your hand cupping over his mouth, a blush engulfing your cheeks.

“Shuuuush! Shush! You know what I meant for fucks sake. Anyone can hear you, these walls are paper thin, you heathen!” You berrated, a giggle bubbling in your throat. Roy laughed against your hand and kissed your palm while you shook your head at him.

“Glad you’re feeling MUCH better, Coach Kent. Now shoo, send in Bumbercatch if he’s out there and I’ll deal with you later.”

Roy continued to smile at you and when you removed your hand, you got the full effect of his perfect smile. You couldn’t help your own smile as Roy hopped off the table and retreated to the door. You crossed your arms across your chest again as he turned around one final time before winking at you before exiting. You heard him loud and clear as he made his way back to the locker room.

“Oi! Bumbercatch! You’re needed in physio. Move!”

You shook your head and laughed to yourself before you wiped down the table and set up the room. This was going to be a very long afternoon.

[julesthequirky]

The 'Uncle': Part One

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: Three years ago your mother introduced you to her new boyfriend, Dean, and since then you've all gelled as a new family. Dean treats your mother like she's the finest gold and you honestly couldn't be happier for her. But what you weren't counting on was a new 'uncle', and there's something about the way that he looks at you that makes your skin crawl...

Characters/Pairings: Step 'Uncle'!Sam x Step 'Neice'!Reader, Dean, OC Denise (reader's mother), Omar, Tony, Raven, Emily.

Overall Warnings: Noncon (rape), degradation, finger sucking, mentions of blowjobs, blackmail, manipulation.

W/C: 2,336

“She’s eighteen, Denise. I’m sure she’ll be fine on her own.”

“I don’t know,” Your mother chewed her bottom lip. “What if something happens? I’d feel better if someone was here, like Sam.”

Fuck. No. Anyone but him. Dread lined the pit of your stomach at the thought of Dean’s brother in your home for a week whilst your mother and Dean went on vacation.

“Mom, please. I’m an adult.”

“You’re not twenty-one yet, missy.”

You pleaded, giving her your best Bambi eyes. She turned to Dean, who had his arm around her waist.

“You know what I think, Dee? She’s old enough, and Y/N is a good kid,” he chuckled. “Hell, kids her age are doing all sorts of things - drinking, parties, passing something from Kentucky, ahah.” Dean petered off as he realised he’d put his foot in it.

He chuckled, and you shot him a look to say, ’Why’d you go and say that for?’. But, of course, your mother would never let you stay home alone now, and she stared dumbstruck at her boyfriend for a moment before turning to you.

“I’m calling Sam.”

“No, Mom, please. I don’t need supervision!”

“Dee—” Dean attempted.

“No, I’ve made up my mind.” With that, she strutted off, already dialling his number.

Dammit. That was it then.

“Sorry, kiddo.” Dean squeezed your shoulder as your mother stayed firm in her decision and he followed her into the living area.

Knowing Sam would be sitting put a sour taste in your mouth, and nausea roiled in your stomach. You would be subject to him for a week, where he would get away with anything. And they had no idea.

It started two years ago when Sam came over to celebrate the 4th of July. Dean was at the barbecue, beer in hand, tongs in another, and wearing an apron that made you and your mother laugh, prompting you to tell him, ‘That’s not what meat man means’.

You were dancing to music in your cutest short-shorts and t-shirt, with the hosepipe filling the inflatable pool, when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, the feeling extending down your spine. You turned, hose in hand, and your eyes honed in on the cause.

You thought Dean was tall. Well, he was taller. And he was staring right at you. Your smile slipped. Something about the intensity of his look made you nervous, and you couldn’t help but shake the feeling of being caught in a predator’s gaze.

He raised the beer to his mouth, and you turned to face the pool, eyes fixed on the water rippling, intent on not gaining any more attention than you had already garnered.

Out of sheer luck, you managed to stay away from Sam. When he was around, you were out. But it seemed that the inevitable couldn’t be fought.

*

Fuck. Fuck Fuck!!! You mentally cursed yourself out as you approached the house. The lights were on. Meaning Sam was home. Thinking you’d be fine, you hadn’t taken your rucksack with a spare change of clothes. Which also meant that you couldn’t even use your typical studying excuse.

You weren’t stupid enough to go through the front door, so you sneaked around the house’s edge to not set the sprinkler’s off and headed for the backyard gate. You gave it a tentative push, and it swung open slightly. Relief washed through you, intensely grateful that you wouldn’t be attempting parkour tonight.

You edged towards the trellis that lead up to your balcony when suddenly you were plunged into darkness. The fuck?

You knelt, frozen on the spot, heart pounding in your chest, as you listened desperately for a sound, anything. But nothing, except for the crickets in the grass. You mentally chided yourself and willed yourself to calm down. Still, the adrenaline running through your veins had you on edge, and you wouldn’t breathe until you were safe inside your room.

With some sense of calmness, you make your way to the trellis. You’re sure that he’s probably gone to sleep. With that self-reassurance, you climbed the frame with ease and expertise. Dean had talked about bringing it down as it blocked the sight of the yard from the living room, but you’d managed to talk him out of it.

You dropped onto the balcony, making barely a sound, and quickly found relief as you let yourself into your bedroom. You closed the door behind you and closed the curtains, making it look like you had been here all along.

“Have a good time out?” A voice asked.

“Fffffuuuuuuuuck!!” You yelled, heart soaring to your throat, a coldness washing over you. You spun around to see Sam sitting in the corner of your room.

He clicked on the bedside lamp beside him. Then, watching you, he rose to his feet. That familiar prickly feeling came to your head and awareness of how screwed you were slid down your spine.

You opened your mouth, but he beat you to it. “There are cameras. By the gate, Y/N.”

Shit. You’d forgotten about the damn cameras. Dean had installed them, joking that they were only for show, only because your mother had worried herself over intruders.

He stepped closer until he had you craning your neck back just to look at him. He was so damn tall. You swallowed thickly…. you were in the shit, for sure.

Sam was a brooder. He was patient and always found the right opportunity that worked in his favour.

“Does your momma know you dress like a slut?” Sam asked, fingering the hem of your super short skirt.

Your hand swatted his away, and his eyes narrowed at your slight. You’d poked the bear. Nice one.

“Your momma gave me a list of rules for you to adhere to. No parties, no drinking, no smoking and no boys. How many do y’think you’ve broken? Three at least, I’d say.”

All of them. You’d broken all your mother’s rules.

Damn. Fuck. You had swilled your mouth with mouthwash at least twice and popped a mint just in case, and to combat the herbal smell you had sprayed so much, you had coughed and spluttered before Ubering back. On top of that, you had begged your Uber driver, Omar, to stop at least a block away, so Sam wouldn’t get suspicious.

If he was angry, he didn’t show it. In fact, you’d say he’d been waiting for this moment as a smirk curved his lips.

“Your momma thinks you’re this perfect little angel, but I know different. And Dean’s too pussywhipped to see through your little act.”

In the two years you’ve known Sam, he’d barely spoken two words to you. Now, filth was spewing from his lips.

You had the wool pulled over your mother’s and Dean’s eyes. And they were none the wiser. You’d perfected the routine. Practised the lie so much it was second nature. Now, standing before you, Sam posed as a real threat to your perfectly curated deception.

“You weren’t supposed to be here!” You admitted, and he laughed.

“Oh, I know, darlin’. Did mommy dearest just have to go and ruin your plans?” he mocked  condescendingly.

The nerve of this man. It angered you. He knew exactly how your mother worried herself nearly to death. And he used it to his advantage feeding into her anxiety. He whispered poison into her ear, and no amount of convincing could appeal to her rationale. It all fell on deaf ears.

“She’s just concerned.”

And she had every right to be. At four, you had been out with your dad, doing errands, and a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road had ploughed headfirst into your dad’s car, killing him instantly. He never stood a chance. You on the other hand – it had been a miracle that you had come out almost unscathed.

“Is that so?” A malicious grin spread across his face.

You backed up, eyes wide, mouth forming a small o, the prey to a predator, as he stalked towards you. When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress you almost fell on your ass, but Sam gripped your shoulder, stopping you from going anywhere.

“Well, she should be concerned.”

Danger spiked his words and fear rooted you to the spot.

“I’ll tell Dean.” You managed to choke out.

He snorted. “You’ll tell Dean what? How you seduced a grown man. That you couldn’t control yourself and succumbed to the lust surging in that little body o’ yours. Who do you think he’s gonna believe? The lawyer or the whore?”

“I’m not a whore.” You stood defiant.

“Oh please. I know you’ve sucked more cock than anybody else in your year.”

His fingers trailed over the curve of your lips. A whimper slipped out, and you gave a tentative shake of your head.

“Sam…”

He grinned like a child that was happy playing with its toy. He pushed his fingers past your lips and into the hot cave of your mouth.

“Suck.” He ordered.

You wouldn’t. You stood, staring hard at him with a mouth full of his fingers.

He bent low, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

“If you don’t start sucking, I’ll call your mother and tell her all about tonight.”

That bastard. Heat flamed your cheeks, and the strange sensation of shame filled you. His fingers nudged forwards, the heavy digits resting on your tongue curling down to the back of your throat.

If your mother found out about your exploits, you could kiss goodbye to the prospect of staying in a college dorm come September. Your mother would never let you out of her sights, and you’d never know freedom.

After a moment, your cheeks hollowed, and your tongue flexed. He groaned in pleasure.

“Such a good girl.” He praised.

Your tongue lashed over the digits, curling around them, sucking them as deep as they would go until eventually he pulled his fingers free with a resounding pop.

You avoided his gaze until he tipped your chin back.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You refused to answer him. He tutted, then grasped your chin and forced your head to shake ‘no’.

“Please. Let me go. I just want to sleep.”

You wished you’d taken up Emily’s offer to bunk at her place. Sleeping on a pull-out bed where the springs poked your back seemed far more appetizing than facing your ‘uncle’ tonight. You’d considered it, played around with it in your mind, but had you not turned up until morning, Sam would have called your mother.

“Let you go? Don’ think so, girlie.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and the first drop of a tear, slipped down, catching on his hand.

“Please.”

His fingers grasping your chin, loosened, eventually letting go. Shuddering in a breath, your eyes opened,

“I won’t tell anyone.” You’d take it to the grave.

“You won’t?”

You shook your head. You just wanted him to stop.

“I’ll stay in and do the housework. I’ll—”

“Bargaining won’t work with me, darlin’.”

Fuck. Your stomach dropped, leaving a sour taste in your mouth, and your heart thudded heavily in your chest. You craned your neck to look at him, and took a steady breath.

“So, who was the lucky boy tonight?”

His question caught you off guard, it had you blinking in confusion.

“C’mon, darlin’. I know you’re not stupid. Who’s cock did you suck?”

You shook your head. “No-ones.” You lied.

Long time crush, hot quarterback Tony had been at the party with a few of his buddies, playing beer pong. Emily had pushed you towards him, and then she had quickly ditched you, going off with Raven.

You’d forced yourself to make small talk, all the while wondering what the fuck you were doing. You’d almost pinched yourself when he suggested that he wanted to dance. With you. His body moved close to yours, closer still. His lips brushed your ear, your lips, your neck, hands exploring your heated skin. and you’d said the hell with it.

Tony had pulled you into a cloakroom, the chord light switch cast shadows, as you kissed. Then the next thing you were taking him into your mouth, with satisfied groans above you.

Sam sighed and pulled out his phone. he made a few taps before angling the screen down to you. Right there, from a hidden camera was Tony, pants down and you on your knees, hands gripping his hips.

All the energy within evaporated, and the colour drained from your face. How? No, you didn’t want to know.

“You’re a dirty little liar.” He whispered.

“Sam, I—”

“Save it,” he interrupted. “What would your momma say, hmm?”

He made a few more taps, turning it back around for you to see. Your mother was clicked ready to send. Your eyes widened, and adrenaline shot through your system, heating your temperature. He wouldn’t. But he would, and you knew that. He would do just about anything to get what he wanted.

“Please! You can’t. She’d lose her mind! I’d lose college privileges. Please, Sam, please!” you begged, hysterical, desperate for him to back away from the nuclear button.

Sam’s eyebrows raised as you begged and pleaded. But no amount would stop him on his current mission to screw up your life. Nothing would stop him unless he got what he wanted. You slumped, defeated.

 “Tell me what you want.”

 A slow malicious grin spread across his face, glee danced in his eyes. Sam leant down, pushing his face to yours.

“Oh darlin’, ‘m gunna pop your cherry.”

Coldness swooped down, freezing your blood, and his words knocked around your head, but you could barely hear them over the thrashing heartbeat in your ears.

No. No. No.

Your breath rasped, coming out quicker when his hand soothed down your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut unable to stop the sob of hopelessness escaping your chest.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Absent - Chapter One

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

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. 

Next chapter >

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​

[thatcrazybookwormgeek]

Not Right

A/N: This is my late submission for @katymacsupernatural  ‘s writing challenge. I hope I did ok.

Pairing: Dean x Daughter!Reader, with a litte Uncle!Cas

Warnings: A little angsty, I tried but it came out really fluffy.

Hope you all enjoy!

  Dear Satan, My name is Y/N Winchester. I want a big teddy bear for Christmas. One that is bigger than me, bigger than my Uncle Sam. That would be super cool. You might have to leave it outside though, because nothing can get inside the bunker. Not even you. Love, Y/N.

  “What are you doing bug?” Uncle Sammy got down on his knees and looked at me with his big eyes.

  “Writing a letter to Santa! I want a big teddy bear, bigger than you!” My smile was my face it was so big.

  “That would be awesome. Let’s go get your daddy and then we can get this to Santa, ok?” Nodding my head I hurried along behind my Uncle Sam as he walked through the halls of the bunker I called home.

  “Hey Peanut, what do you got there?” My dad looked at me like he did at pie, with more love than I could ever understand.

  “I wrote a letter to Santa! Can we make sure it gets there? I saw a box to go to Santa at the mailbox. Let’s go!” I pulled on my dad’s wrist with all of my might as I tried to go as soon as possible.

  “Let me get my shoes on, ok?” After putting on his shoes he grabbed his jacket and we all piled in the Impala.

  It seemed like forever until we pulled into the parking lot of the Post Office. “There it is!”

  “Wait for us Y/N!” My daddy shouted after me as I ran for the box marked “To Santa.”

  “Alright, let’s put in together, ok?” I put my hand on my dad’s as we pushed it into the slot.

  “Can we get Ice Cream?” My mind quickly traveled to food as soon as the task was done.

  “We can get Ice Cream and Pie.” My dad said as he picked me up as we all made our way to the nearest diner.

Lucifer’s POV   Dear Satan, My Name is Y/N Winchester.

  I must get at least a million misaddressed letters every Christmas. But this one, oh this one will be fun. Never had I ever gotten a letter from a Winchester. A teddy bear? A BIG teddy bear? Let the games begin.

Y/N POV

  It was Christmas! I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me to my daddy’s room. I jumped right onto his bed. “WAKE UP! IT”S CHRISTMAS!!”

  Like a tree in a cartoon, he sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Let’s go see what Santa got you!” Even half-asleep he was still cheerful to me.

  Tired of waiting I did the exact same thing to Uncle Sammy, who was a little grumpier that I woke him up. But I didn’t care, it was CHRISTMAS!

  Running into the war room where the tree was I saw the biggest teddy bear I had ever seen. It’s eyes were dark red and it’s fur black. I immediately went and gave it a big bear hug, but what I wasn’t expecting was for it to hug back. At first, I laughed until the hug started to hurt. I tried to get away but the bear was just too strong.

  “DADDY!!!!!!” My scream tore through the bunkers halls as I cried, over pain and fear.

  No sooner had I yelled than my Dad and Uncle came running into the war room. They immediately pulled out guns and started pointing them at the bear. Only I Was moving too much to get a clean shot off.

  Tears ran down my face as I sobbed and fought with every fiber of my body. I was only a small child though, so I couldn’t do much. My eyes burned and breathing was hard, all I wanted to do was hug my daddy, but I couldn’t.

  The teddy bear hugged tighter, and my eyes became blurry. The room kept getting darker until all I could see was black. The fight in my body left as I became a rag doll.

Lucifer POV   I messed up. It was all I could think. She was just a small child, she didn’t deserve it. I thought I would enjoy the pain written on the Winchesters faces, but instead I felt it. I knew I had to do something.

*Flap FLap Flying*

  Inside the bunker I placed a hand on the tiny child laying on her bed, ignoring the protests and punches from her father. I focused as my grace left me and entered her, healing her. Having accomplished that I turned to look at Dean. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake.” Without waiting any longer I flew back to my secret hideout.

Dean POV   Today was a close call, I almost lost my daughter. She was a curious girl, and I knew she would ask what happened. I was gonna have to give her the talk. She was so young, and now she was gonna have PTSD from being tossed around by a teddy bear.

  How could I have let this happen? I should have watched her more closely. Been more careful, done something. But I didn’t and my kid is hurt now because of it. I knew lie was gonna change around here, and probably not for the better.

[generallyclumsy]

At Least I Killed It

A/N: um this is god awful but I’m trying to post so like eh, I hope someone likes it. It’s based on an imagine I found a hot minute ago, but I couldn’t find it so like if it’s yours hit me up and I’ll tag you.

402 Words (a wee blurb)

Dean x daughter!reader/ Sam x niece!reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, cursing, bad writing (not edited)

*********************

I stared at my hands, they shook as the rest of me sat still in a cell. My view of the police station was warped by the bars I sat behind, my clothes and hair still bloody although now more crusty than damp as I waited for Sam.

When I’d been arrested, I used my call to phone Sam as opposed to my dad because if I was lucky I’d get out of this without to much trouble. Sam, being my uncle, worried about me but not nearly as much as dad did. He likely come down here, bail me out, give me a brief lecture on the way home and this would all be behind us. Or at least, I hoped.

The thing is, I had been hunting. I wasn’t supposed to, but I did, and long story short the police found me covered in blood wielding a silver knife. As they would find, a considerable amount of the blood was my own, but most of it also belonged to the werwolf I had slaughtered only minutes prior. The issue was that I had to get out of here, and the circumstances were suspicious as hell.

I was still sitting and staring at my hands when I heard the front reception officer greet someone who had walked through the door. “Hello, sir.” Thank God! Sam!

“Hello, Agent Young.” Fuck. Not Sam. Dad, very much my dad. “I’m here for the girl, listed, Y/N Winchester.” I sighed. That was me, dad was here for me and it didn’t sound like Sam was even with him. FUCK. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Right, this way. We found her covered in blood, most of which didn’t even test as hers, with a bloody knife just running around it someone’s corn field. We drug tested her but it came up negative...” the police man started rambling as he made his way back here with dad. I met his eyes and he had this look like “you fucked up.”

“No offense officer but I’ve got it from here,” dad said as they unlocked my cell. I stood up shakily and exited the cell. Immediately, Dad put his hand on my back, and steered me out of the building. As we needed the Impala I looked up at him nervously.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“Guess.”

I ducked into the Impala sheepishly and sighed. He started the engine wordlessly, and we started toward the main road.

“I mean, at least I killed it.”

[tomhiddleston-is-mischief]

"Babysitting the Newbie"

Jack Kline x reader

Summary: reader does something special for the newbie, Jack Kline, to make him feel better

Warning(s): Dean being a prick to Jack, but that's it

Word count: 770

A/N: hope this is good! Thank you for reading, loves

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Things are never great for the Winchesters, but lately, it seems like everyone is on edge. We sadly lost Cas, my dad and uncle are stressed, and that Jack kid is just… I actually have no idea and that terrifies me. I mean, Cas had faith in him, but then again, that is what also got him killed. My dad, Sam, trusts Jack. My uncle… not so much. Me? I am on the fence with this one. We have spoken and all that. I'm polite with him and he is the same with me. He seems nice, but then again, so did a ton of other people. I really do want to trust the newbie - I do! Just don’t know how, I guess. “Y/N! Come help us.”, I heard Dean call. With a sigh, I get off my semi-comfortable bed and walk down the hall swiftly. “Marco!”, I yell. “Polo!”, my dad responded. I chuckle at how funny that is. When we lose each other in this bunker of ours, we just call out random things like that. I walk into the library, finding the boys - including Jack - sitting in some chairs. Taking my seat next to Dad, I stare at the boy curiously. His eyes were set on his fingers. They fiddle together as he gulps nervously. Furrowing my eyebrows, I wonder if he has been on edge like everyone else. 

  “Y/N, are you listening?”, Dad raised his eyebrows at me, glancing at Jack. I clear my throat and apologize. Dean sighed,” We need you to stay here and babysit him.” He glared at Jack, making the poor kid feel even more nervous. “I want you to be safe, okay?”, Dad smiled at me as I nodded. “Listen, if you touch her, I’ll have your head mounted on a wall.”, Dean walked past Jack after saying that. Dad only sighed and moved on. Pursing my lips together, I wonder how to make Jack feel better. Words aren’t really my strong suit, thanks to trauma, but... I have thrown plenty of parties!

  Without a word, I run to the kitchen to look for party supplies. Now, this is not a party-party, but I have a good idea of what could cheer Jack-o up. Maybe some pancakes. Add in some chocolate. Probably some soda. Oh, and a fort! 

  Wait, I don’t even trust this kid. Why am I doing all of this? 

  I shrug it off, saying it is because he reminds me so much of Cas. And maybe that is a little bit true. Even though I was only nine when I met him, I could tell Cas was going to be a good friend of mine. Yes , it hurts that he is gone, but I just have to power through. That’s what I do every time someone turns up gone. As the time passes by me thinking about things that have happened in my seventeen years of living, the pancakes are done and I made a pretty decent candy bowl. I set down the candy and jump as I hear a voice behind me. "What are you doing, Y/N?", a curious voice asked. I turn around, startled by the boy's presence all of a sudden. "Um… I made this to- I don't know, cheer you up?", I look around at the fort, then to his confused face. "So… you made this… for me?", he furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, guess I did.", I shrugged and handed him a soda. He stayed silent as he watched me open mine. Jack opened his can after he saw me do it, then took a sip after I did. Setting my drink down, I realize what he's doing as he starts to put his drink on the same table I did. "You don't have to do that, you know. You can be your own person.", I chuckle. "Be my own person?", Jack repeated. I nodded my head,"Would you want to have some of your drink. Or would you like your pancakes?" Jack furrowed his eyebrows, listening to the sudden grumbling in his stomach. "Pancakes, please.", he smiled at me. I smiled back and set the plate on the floor, next to where I wanted go sit and eat. "You do want to be here, right?", I ask, suddenly remembering he might want to be at a table. "No, I think I want to eat with you.", he sits next to me and starts to bite into the sugary food once he was settled. A blush settles across my cheeks once he sits next to me. 

  Why? No clue at all. 

...

Perm. Tags: @lovesmesomehiddles @kitkatd7 @blackeyedangel9805 @marshyrebelcloud @an-adventureland @thehumanistsdiary

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 [𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒]

PAIRINGS — Steve Rogers x fem!adopted Couslon!reader

SUMMARY — Reader is put in charge of babysitting the Avengers and her young neice

WARNINGS — a few swears

NOTE — I'll add the titles they have in my Google docs to give you a bit of a laugh, they rarely have anything to do with the story, but oh well.  Also Coulson LIVES

"Coulson!"

"Which one Stark, you're going to have to be more specific," you turned around and crossed her arms, looking skeptically at the billionaire.

"Both of you if possible, you know, the usual end of the world stuff,"

"What is it Tony?" your older brother Phil asked.

"Yeah, didn't the end of the world already happen?"

"It did, but I find myself faced with a new problem,"

"That is," you pressed him to continue.

"Fury needs us to all stay together in a facility for a while and he wants us to have a babysitter since he doesn't trust us."

"Rightfully so might I add," Phil sighed.

"Anyways, I convinced him to let us choose which agent he sent over and the gang wanted one of you two," Tony explained. "Unanimously agreed too, that never happens."

"Well I'm on a mission as of tomorrow morning, so I'm out of the running," Phil said.

"And it's my week off starting tomorrow so thanks, but no thanks."

You started to walk off, but Tony grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking away.

"(Y/N) wait, I'll pay you. Seriously anything."

"I don't want your money Tony, I want my time off."

"Fine let me talk to Fury, if I can get you two weeks off after this week will you take it?"

You sighed, "You've got yourself a deal Stark."

"Sweet, be at the compound tonight to set up."

"Only if you keep your end of the agreement."

"Trust me Coulson I will."

--

As promised Tony managed to get you the extra vacation days after a small donation of a million dollars was made to a SHIELD research project. So you packed up her bag full of the essentials, including noise-cancelling headphones, because if anyone knew the Avengers there would be arguments. Many, many arguments.

Entering the compound, you were met with loud commotion and yelling and you already regretted your decision to babysit a bunch of superhuman adult-toddlers. The minute they noticed your presence they quieted down and you could only be thankful for that.

Gathered in the room were Tony, who you had seen earlier that day, Captain Steve Rogers looking like he was in a similar predicament to you and knocking back four extra-strength Advil to fight off the oncoming headache. Next to him were James Barnes and Sam Wilson and in the living room sat Peter, Thor, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Wanda.

"Sweet Mr. Stark, you managed to get Agent Coulson here,"

"Good to see you too kid," you smiled kindly at Peter who had always taken a special liking to you. "And while I have your attention can I just say I gave up my immediate vacation for a longer one so I could be here, so we're already walking a tightrope, capisce?"

The group nodded and you looked over at Steve who seemed to be eyeing the bottle of painkillers wondering if he had taken enough. "Oh and Steve, try not to overdose while you're under my care it'll look bad on my file."

Sam and Bucky chuckled, while Steve blushed, seemingly one of the only things they could agree on being anything that embarrassed Steve.

"Alright Stark, what's the setup and where's the file you owe me," you asked, walking over to Tony. He grabbed the file from the table and handed it to you and started to explain whose rooms were where and what area of the compound you would be staying in. "Hey, did you ever take my suggestion on that home theatre and music room?" you asked curiously.

"I did actually, hey Cap you mind showing this one where to find them along with her room?"

"With pleasure," he nodded, happy to have an excuse to leave the communal place that would break out into argument the minute you left. He helped you carry your bags as usual, even though you didn't need it and the many times you'd told him he didn't have to, but that was Steve for you. Maybe that was why your brother liked him so much, probably carried things around for him too.

While you were walking you opened the file and had a quick glance through, getting a sense of why you were really there and what Fury wanted you to keep tabs on.

"Well Cap how's life been treating you?" you asked, trying to break the ice a little bit.

"It's been alright," he admitted, "Just a little slow I guess, but I'm not complaining."

"Boy do I wish that's what was in it for me." you sighed and Steve chuckled. You entered the dorm area of the compound and Steve opened the door to your room, tapping on the small name plaque so it displayed your name.

"Handy trick saves a lot of time when everyone's room is right next to each other."

You didn't spend much time there, just dropping your things so Steve could start his tour of the place. He took you around the corner and down a long hall, that was more like a bridge extending to the second building where the gym, home theatre, music room, and game room were.

"We normally use the gym for training and sometimes there are a few new SHIELD agents that come around and use the facility, but otherwise that's open."

You nodded and took a moment to absorb the enormity of it all, but it never surprised you. This was Tony we were talking about.

"The home theatre is over here and FRIDAY can play any movie or TV show you want,"

"I'll probably be spending my evenings here, seems like a nice place to unwind."

"As long as everyone else isn't here fighting about what to watch."

"Fair point." you nodded and moved onto the music room, "Oh hey, he took my suggestion and added the record player!"

"That was you? I should thank you, I finally managed to get ahold of some of the records my mother left me after she passed and I have somewhere to play them now."

"Well it's not a problem, if I can convince Tony to do something it's a win in itself."

You were interrupted when your phone rang and you apologized quickly before picking it up.

"Hey Stace, what's up?"

You listened to your sister as she recounted an emergency that had come up with your brother-in-law's family, she needed you to look after her daughter. On top of everything else you had to do, but you couldn't turn her down. More importantly, you couldn't turn down little Gianna.

"Yeah, just come drop her off here tomorrow morning before you leave."

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Stacy asked. "Because if it's too much we can ask Tom's brother to look after her, it's just she likes you more."

"No bring her here, I'll take care of her. It'll be much easier than looking after a bunch of adult babies, no offence Steve,"

"None taken," he sighed and shook his head.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then (N/N)."

"Yeah see you tomorrow."

You hung up the phone and turned your attention back to Steve as you walked out of the room and headed back to the common area and kitchen.

"So you have one more person to babysit?" Steve asked.

You nodded, "My sister's daughter. Sweetest little four-year-old you ever met." you smiled. "I think you'll get along with her."

"I hope so, there's already enough unneeded drama among us here. I don't need a toddler hating me too."

"Oh you'll get along fine, kids love you."

"Yeah, I guess I've always had a knack for looking after them."

"Well then you can help me, I sure am gonna need it."

You re-entered the common area and got everyone's attention, "Alright, I need all of you to be on your best behaviour. My sister is dropping off my niece here and I have to look after her for the week. So no swearing, no shenanigans, and nothing inappropriate, she's four."

The gang nodded in understanding and a few even got excited to see her having met the vivacious little girl already.

"I'm gonna head to bed early, tomorrow's really gonna hit me hard."

"Sleep well," Peter smiled and waved and the rest of the gang bid you goodnight.

—

"Hey, Gianna!"

"Auntie (N/N)!" The small girl exclaimed and ran up to her aunt.

"Thanks for doing this again," Stacy sighed. "We'll be back in a week."

"No problem Stace, I love hanging out with this one and plus Steve said he'd lend a hand."

"Okay, well I'll see you both in a week. Kisses for mama Gi?"

Gianna kissed her mother goodbye and then rushed inside to go find out what the others were doing. You brought her things to your room and placed the stuffed animals she had brought on the bed then set out to find the small girl around the compound.

When you did find her she was nestled in between Sam and Steve, playing with the dog tags that Sam carried around his neck.

"Hey Mr. America, do you have these too?" she asked curiously, turning around to face him.

"Yeah, I do actually." he nodded and took off the chain handing it to the small girl. "You can keep them while you're here if you want."

"Really?!"

"Yeah for sure." Steve smiled. "And you can call me Steve."

"Okay Steve, you're pretty awesome."

"Thanks, kid," he chuckled.

"Hi auntie, I'm going to find Tony now."

"Okay be careful and ask FRIDAY for help if you get lost."

The girl nodded and left the three adults alone, you having taken the spot she had left between Sam and Steve.

"She's a cute one there (N/N), you're lucky she's your niece," Sam commented.

"I know and I love her to pieces. I'm actually kind of happy I get to spend the week with her, even if it's here."

"Me too, now I'm gonna go make sure the poor kid doesn't get lost and finds Tony, I'll see you around Cap," Sam nodded and left the couch, off in search of the sweet little girl.

As soon as Sam left, Peter and Wanda came into the room with a smile on their faces having found the two people they were looking for.

"Hey Agent Coulson, Captain Rogers, Wanda and I were just wondering if you wanted to join us in the home theatre. We thought we'd show you some of our favourite movies and TV shows."

"Pete, how many times do I have to tell you (Y/N) is fine," you chuckled. "And that sounds actually kind of nice so I'm in. How about you Steve?"

"Might as well, still a little rusty on pop culture so hopefully that'll help."

"Great! I hope you like musicals cause we have a few on our list." Wanda smiled.

"Oh like Disney movies?" Steve asked. "Buck and I used to watch those all the time when we were kids, I think we know all the words to the songs in Snow White and Pinnochio."

"Kind of," Peter nodded. "Some are more similar to that than others but we have a few full musicals."

"Alright well lead the way," you motioned and you all started walking towards the theatre.

The two younger Avengers decided to start smaller and showed you and Steve the first few episodes of some of their favourite TV shows.

Steve was particularly fond of the Office, finding the dry humour exceptionally hilarious while you found yourself loving New Girl, a show about a perky teacher rooming with three guys in a loft in LA.

After the TV shows, Tony and Gianna came and found you in the theatre and decided to stick around for the first musical. A Broadway hit by the name of Hamilton it was a bit tricky to gauge everyone's reactions to it but it became evident how much it stuck a few days later.

Steve was washing dishes from the lunch he had just made and absentmindedly started to hum the tune of you'll be back. The song sung by the character of King George III. By the chorus, he had somehow internalized all the lyrics and was enjoying his chores while jamming to the song, something you had never seen the Captain do before, and when your favourite part came you thought

What the heck

And joined him, hearing Peter and Wanda's voices also singing along from afar. Steve laughed when he heard your pronounced fake British accent ringing through the kitchen as you swore to send a fully armed battalion to fight back the rebels.

You had never seen Steve let so loose and to continue singing along with you until you finally finished the song.

"Your voice isn't bad Rogers."

"Neither is yours, Coulson."

"So I'm assuming you enjoyed the musical," you noted, leaning across the table and helping Gianna up when you felt her tug at your sleeve.

"Auntie I'm hungry,"

"Here let me-."

"It's okay (Y/N), she can have half my sandwich," Steve assured and handed the small girl half of his sub.

"Thanks, Steve!" Gianna smiled and (Y/N) chuckled and repeated the sentiment.

"To answer your question I did enjoy it, it was very interesting." he came back to the previous topic.

"I think Tony liked it too, last I saw him he was playing Schuyler Sisters at full blast."

"I like Peggy," Gianna grinned.

"Me too kiddo." (Y/N) ruffled her niece's hair. "Me too."

—

Over the next few days, you noticed more and more how Steve seemed to loosen up, something you hadn't seen often in the super-soldier. He came out every morning with a grin on his face and was ready to try something new. You almost thought it was too good to be true, everyone was getting along, Gianna hadn't broken down once and you just seemed to be coasting, only having to write short reports for Fury every night.

Today Steve seemed to be learning Mario Kart and actually had a knack for it. After only one practice game he was beating Clint, Peter, and Tony every single time.

"How?!" Clint exclaimed. "You're like a thousand years old! You shouldn't physically be capable of being this good!"

"It's just a game Clint, chill," you chuckled.

"Yeah, but what does it say to my abilities if grandpa can beat me?"

"I'm sure he doesn't mean that Steve," you laughed, coming over and ruffling his hair. You swore you could hear him sigh with content, but he caught himself so quickly it was like it never happened.

"It's okay (Y/N), I deal with it a lot. Just the other day Tony didn't want to believe I was a better singer than him."

"You aren't," Tony frowned.

"Oh I know what this calls for!" you exclaimed. "Gia honey! FRIDAY get Gia and ask her if she wants to help her auntie judge a karaoke competition. And you can bet there's gonna be some Hamilton so get your rapping voices ready." you grinned.

"(Y/N) what's gotten into you," Steve laughed, standing up and pulling you in by your waist.

"Steve! That tickles," you giggled. "And I'm just having fun thank you very much. I didn't know you were the fun police."

"I'm the everything police, I'm Captain America," he raised a brow with that knee-buckling smile he had and you couldn't help but laugh and smile back.

"Get a room you two," Tony rolled his eyes just as Gianna came running into the room.

"I was having a tea party with Sam, can we come help!" she grinned.

"Of course sweetie, I was just going to ask Steve here to hit me with a song,"

"Oh (N/N), you underestimate me, I'll serenade you."

"Well my ears are open," you prompted and he hummed in thought.

"Well if you're so good Capsicle why don't you serenade us with a bit of Sinatra?" Tony crossed his arms, seeing if the Captain would accept the challenge.

"Gladly," Steve smirked, "M'lady?" he spun you around and offered a hand to dance.

"Why of course kind sir," you giggled and took his hand, knees wobbling slightly when he pulled you close to his chest and opened his mouth to sing those damned words that got you every single time.

"Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars..."

Steve really wasn't underselling himself, he was an excellent singer, and you had known Tony for quite some time, his preference leaned to rock and there was absolutely no way he'd be able to beat Steve if it came down to the classics.

Once Steve finished and you were left standing to the side of the room still starstruck, Tony snapped in front of your face but it didn't seem to make much of a difference.

"Well, this is a lost cause I'm not going to win when she keeps giving Cap those googly eyes."

"What do you think, Gia?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, kiddo was Steve good?"

"I think auntie thought he was good. She looks at stuff like that when she likes things right?"

Steve blushed and that seemed to snap you out of your daze.

"Yeah it was good," you coughed and nodded. "Um really good, yeah."

"Steve I think you won." Gianna smiled. "And as a prize, you can have your necklace back." she took the necklace that she had been wearing non-stop and ran up to the soldier handing it back to him.

He picked her up and she placed it around his neck for him while he placed a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks, kiddo,"

"Hey (Y/N)," Peter came up next to you and whispered. "You're staring and you look like you're about to fall down."

"A-Am I?" you stuttered. "I-I didn't notice." you straightened yourself up and scratched your nose tellingly. "Is...is it that obvious Pete?"

"A little," he nodded and you blushed.

"I should go," you mumbled and left for your room.

What is getting into me! you thought. He's Steve. Captain America. Mr. way out of everyone's league with his blue eyes and sparkling smil-(Y/N) stop it!

Once you reached your room you only had a few minutes of silence to gather your thoughts before there was a knock on your door.

"It's Gia!" you heard from the other side.

"Come in," you sighed.

"And Steve," she noted while she walked into the room in the arms of the super-soldier.

"Hey honey, what do you need?"

"We just wanted to come to check on you," she said while Steve sat down with her next to you on the bed.

"You left a little suddenly, you alright?"

"Yeah," you assured. "Peter just reminded me of something is all,"

"Well if you need anything you know where to find us,"

"Having a tea party with Sam and Bucky!"

That made you laugh, the thought of Captain America and the Falcon and the Winter Soldier getting bossed around by a four-year-old.

"Well you guys have fun, I have to do my report but maybe I'll join you later."

"Hey, Gia why don't you tell Sam I'm coming and go set up I'll be there in a minute," Steve said.

"Sure," the girl nodded and slid off his lap and out the door which is when Steve turned to you.

"Are you sure you're alright (Y/N)?" he started by saying. "I mean I know you said you were but I thought maybe it was because Gianna was here..." he trailed off.

The lump in your throat became more evident and you scratched the back of your neck nervously.

"N-No it was nothing," you said in a very unconvinced voice.

"Hey you know I've got you darlin', right? You need anything you can come to me. That's what friends are for."

"Thanks, Steve, I guess I'm just sad we're leaving soon, it's been fun." you weren't lying, but you also weren't forthcoming about your new-found attraction to him.

"Yeah me too, I'll miss it for sure." he nodded. "You know I bet you Tony has a place in the tower he could set you up in. I know you're apartments far from the SHIELD headquarters and you probably don't want to be our permanent babysitter, but there's a spot open if you ever want it."

"Thanks, Steve, you're too sweet." you smiled softly.

"No problem," he smiled back. "Keep your head up darlin' you've got a pretty smile."

He tapped his forefinger under your chin and raised your face to look at him. He flashed you that dazzling smile then he was off to entertain your niece.

—

You knew it was too good to be true when everyone was getting along for the past few days. Everything was okay up until that evening. It was around eleven and it started off only with a few harsh words of disagreement quickly turning into a yelling match between what felt like a stadium of people.

"Tony would you quit saying that! I'm sick of you always up in our business thinking you know better! Enough is enough!" Steve's angry voice rang through the compound. He rarely got to the point of rage, but you could hear in his tone that he was getting there. All Tony needed to do was push the right button.

"You know what Capslock-."

"Capslock?! Capslock!? Seriously because I raised my fucking voice once because you won't shut up about stuff that doesn't even pertain to you-."

"Hey!" you called. "That is enough! I thought you were all adults and clearly I overestimated your capacity to be mature! There is a four-year-old sleeping in the other room and do you think she wants to wake up in the middle of the night to screaming and yelling? I think not because neither would I. So get your fucking shit together you two and start acting like adults!" you said exasperatedly.

"(Y/N)-."

"No, don't even try Tony, just go to bed. All of you go to bed. I'm going out to get some fresh air."

The team hung their heads low and you exited the common area and went out to the back of the compound and walked around the trees in the courtyard. Trying to clear your mind and praying your niece didn't hear you screaming. The last thing you would ever want to do was scare her, but it seemed to be the only way to get the boys in line.

You grumbled at the realization of having to put this into your report, but not everything in life and in this job was a piece of cake. You could only wish.

After what felt like only minutes outside, but was really 45 minutes, you made your way back in and when you heard the soft cries of the small girl you swore under your breath. But they were accompanied by a soft soothing deep voice and footsteps that seemed to be coming from the living room.

When you entered, you saw Steve carrying Gianna who was wrapped tightly in a blanket, and walking around the living room floor, gently shushing her and assuring her that everything was all going to be okay.

You would be lying if you said your heart didn't melt at that sight. You were still frustrated sure, but that wasn't what mattered then.

"Gia sweetheart it's going to be fine, see auntie's here now. I told you she'd be back."

Gianna sniffed while Steve brought her close to you and you took her in your arms, wiping her tears away and in return them being replaced by a few of your own. When Gianna burrowed her face in your shoulder Steve wrapped his arms around the both of you and laid his chin on top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay... she'll be okay."

"And you?"

"I-I'll manage."

He squeezed you one last time, a little tighter than before and let go, kissing Gianna on the top of her head and by reflex doing the same to you before walking off to bed and going to sleep like you had instructed all of them to do an hour ago.

"Come on Gia, let's go back to sleep."

She sniffed and nodded and you didn't need any further prompting to go back into your room and embrace the silence it offered.

—

"Hey Pete, what can I help you with?" you yawned looking up at the teenager.

You had woken up early to write up a report about the argument last night that the team was not being forthcoming about what the topic of disagreement had been so you had to get creative.

"Nothing just thought I'd check in on you. I know Stacy is coming to pick up Gianna today."

"Yeah, we're both a little bummed but, to be honest, I think Sam's gonna miss her the most. That man treated that little girl like a queen." you laughed.

"He sure did and they got along great. He's really good with kids."

"Yeah I agree, I hope he gets some of his own someday." you nodded.

"How about you?" Peter asked.

"Funny question for a teenage boy to be asking me," you raised a brow as he sat on your bed across from the desk you were seated at. "But I must admit my maternal instincts have been higher the past week. And I'd be lying if I said my hormones weren't speaking to me."

"So you do want kids,"

"Yeah, but it's not always in the cards for an agent. It's tricky with this line of work you know."

"I guess I never really thought of it that way," Peter said reflectively. "

You sighed, "But of course if you ask me. There's a lot of good men out there that could make great dads."

"Like Captain Rogers?"

"Yeah like-wait what?"

"Aha! So you do like him," Peter grinned crossing his arms in victory.

"You sneaky little spider, you were trying to figure that out all along weren't you?"

"Maybe," he smirked and you shook your head at the younger boy.

"What's in it for you Pete?" you asked. "Because I normally prefer to suffer in silence."

"Well nothing really, I just have a feeling about it you know? And plus I want you two to have kids, they'd be adorable!"

"I think you've been spending too much time with Wanda," you concluded. "Steve's not like that, he's professional."

"Not around you, and everyone sees it."

You sighed again and ran a hand through your hair.

"Feelings are kinda gross, kid."

"I know," he chuckled. "Had some trouble with them myself. Seriously though, give it some thought. You never know it might just work out."

"Sure kid. I'll try to keep an open mind."

—

A day and a half later the compound was almost empty. Most of the Avengers had been cleared to leave and only a few remained and so did you with them.

You found yourself wandering the empty halls through the compound, looking for any sign of life when you heard a faint melody coming from the west wing.

You followed it until you were led to the music room. Leaning into the door frame you saw Steve hunched over a pile of records, sifting through them while he hummed along with the Harry James tune.

After a few moments, he finally looked up and caught your eye, smiling at the realization of your presence.

"Hey, darlin',"

"Hi Steve," you smiled back. "You've got a swell taste."

"Do I?" he chuckled. "Here," he took the needle of the record and removed it carefully, sliding it back into its case before placing another one on the gramophone. He then walked up to you and offered his hand, "Dance with me?"

"Sure Stevie, just don't step on my toes." you nodded as you took his hand.

"No promises." he chuckled back.

The music was soft and slow, melody fading in nicely to the background while you focused on each other. Steve laid his forehead on yours and you didn't fight the close contact. The feeling of his chest vibrating softly as he quietly sang along was just enough to keep you present and yet still floating away in the bliss of the moment.

One hand of yours was holding his while the other wrapped around under his arm and held his shoulder softly. Steve's other hand found a comfortable spot on your waist and you had to fight the urge to let your knees buckle every time his thumb traced circles around it.

"Steve," you whispered.

"Mhmm,"

"Friends aren't supposed to dance like this."

"How do you mean,"

"I mean...I mean when we dance like this I find I really want to kiss you."

"And do you only want to kiss me when we dance?" he asked, never breaking contact, your foreheads and bodies still pressed together lightly.

"No," you breathed. "I really want to kiss you all the time."

"Good, cause that makes this a lot less awkward," he smiled and for a moment you both closed your eyes once more and folded your heads inward so that your lips met.

The kiss was soft and sweet, devoid of lust, but so full of admiration and love. His lips felt like soft clouds and for a moment time stopped. Along with it you stopped dancing and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he held your waist so gently in his larger hands.

When you split apart for some reason the first thing that came out of your mouth was, "Peter wants us to have kids." and then you proceeded to facepalm while Steve chuckled heartily.

"Well, I did enjoy looking after Gianna. I wouldn't mind doing that full time one day," he mused. "But it's a little early to think of that, don't you agree?"

"Completely," you laughed softly. "So anything you want to tell me before I rope myself into this mess of HR paperwork?"

"The argument," Steve said.

"Yeah what about it?"

"It was about you. Tony was bugging me to make a move and ask you out but I'm just not good at that stuff (N/N), so I got mad and it kind of blew itself out of proportion."

"If that's all I think I can get on board " you grinned, pressing your lips to his once more.

"Good cause I'm not altogether sure what I'd do without you,” 

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Home, Part Seven

Pairings: Peter Quill x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: mild language, angst

A/N: This was only suppose to be a very long one shot. No beta this time. Song for this part: Here Comes Your Man by the Pixies

Summary: Your best friend in the whole galaxy is coming to visit to help out with Thanos. When he arrives, Steve finds himself jealous of the close relationship Peter and you have. Will this stop the man from telling you how he feels? Will old feelings be brought up once Peter arrives? Does first love truly fade?    

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3   Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10    Part 11  Part 12 Epilogue

A bullet swished right passed your right arm, but you kept running without a single hesitation. Steve’s voice came over your comm, telling you to fall back but everything inside of was telling you to keep going. The entire outpost was storming with a squad of rogue mercenaries called Darkstorm, a group hell bent on wreaking havoc on Istanbul, Turkey.  It had been two weeks since Peter had officially became an Avenger and it was his first mission with the team, his cocky nature had gotten the best of Steve when he refused training and said, “I’ll wing it.” So you were hoping this mission would bring everyone together, especially those two and you were also a tad bit happy to be fighting alongside Peter again. Just a tad bit.

“Y/N, pull back,” Steve’s voice came blaring into your ear. “We’re going to hit them from top, meet us at the quinjet.”

“Cap, I can take them. These assholes down here are nothing, go help the others,” you raced toward a tall brute man aiming his rifle at you. Running like a professional baseball player, you slid into homebase and retrieve the knife from your holster, impaling the man in both calves, causing him to jerk in response. He grabbed you by the hair, but you kicked his legs in and had him on the ground in seconds.

Steve hollered out your name just as you knocked out the man with his own rifle.

“I got her, Cappy,” Peter’s voice came over the comm and he appeared at your side, jetboots bringing him down onto the ground. “We’ll meet you guys on the other end of the building.”

Peter smirked down at you, before aiming his quad blaster behind you, hitting two guys who came out of the main building.

“Shit, we got the old team back together,” he held out his hand and you take it with a smile. The two of you rushed into the building, immediately the Guardian’s former leader took out two fellas in a second as you unholster your gun. Peter groaned at the piece in your hand and playfully shoved you toward the elevator door. Stepping inside, he pulled you into his chest and placed a chasited kiss on your lips.

“Why the hell are you using a gun when you got this,” his hand flung your blue leather jacket away from your hip, revealing the Yaka Arrow holstered to your belt. “Yondu made it especially for you and you don’t even use it!”

“Well, I’ve been trying to have a normal life down here. And using Micelli felt-”

The elevator door slid open to gun fire, Peter pushed you into the wall covering you from the bullets. “Use her now.”

Smirking, you pulled back your jacket and let out a whistle. A moment later, the firing stopped and Peter peeked out. “All clear, see you need to use her. You’re Yondu’s neice for fucksake, he’d kill me if he knew you weren’t using the Yaka Arrow.”

You followed Peter out to an open floor, a stock of ammunition scattered along the walls of the room. And weapons, tons of guns. Your eyes met Peter’s with glee, but he shook his head and pointed toward the sound of footsteps running from the next room. He up his quad blaster and winked at you, but as the footsteps came rearing into the room, a sharp whistle left your lips. Micelli came face to face with Steve Rogers, a bewildered look set on his face. Bucky was right behind him and his eyes widen at the arrow, quickly shooting you a hard glare.

“Shit! Sorry,” you apologized and called back the Yaka Arrow with a soft whistle. Your eyes flickered to Peter, who smiled smugly  at the two men.

“What the hell was that,” Bucky pushed past Steve and scanned the room, walking over to a table of guns.

“A Centaurian arrow,” you answered eyes still on Steve. His eyebrows furrowed and it hit you hard, the look on his face. It was as if he was looking at you for the first time. The real you. “I never used it before, until..”

“Until I convinced her to,” Peter brought down his blasers and headed toward the elevator. “She’s only half terrain, the other half is pure badass alien. Come on, we still have a bunch of assholes to kill.”

Steve’s eyes followed Peter into the elevator before looking back at you. “It’s impressive, I’m sure Tony will want to poke and prod it.”

You covered Micelli with your jacket and smirked. “No way in hell, come on fellas.”

15 minutes later, you were running alongside Peter, the two of you taking down opponents effortlessly. Making your way through the large compound, there was no time to stop for a breather. Steve was doing his thing with Bucky and Sam, while Clint, Tony and Natasha were handling the outer buildings. “Up ahead, Sam spotted at least a half a dozen coming toward the two of you,” Steve warned as he held up his shield, protecting himself from the ongoing fire. “Buck and I are headed toward you.”

“Roger, Rogers,” Peter replied smoothly, shooting his blaster continuously. Micelli was flying with precision through the air, making clean cuts into throats and out the back of some of the men’s heads. It was gruesome, but Peter was loving it. He kept hooting every time the arrow brought another enemy down.  “I forgot how fun fighting with you was!”

“I know, it feels like-”

“Quill, Y/N, get out of there! Heavy artillery headed your way. We’ve got too many on us, Tony’s swamped.”

“We got this,” Peter assured Steve, firing away. You left Peter’s side and whistled, directing Micelli to the two men shooting from behind a large shipping container. They were firing at you and right as your Centaurian weapon pierced through their heads, a large explosion erupted in front of you, throwing you back at least ten feet. You slammed down into the dirt ground, hitting your head hard. A loud screeching noise filled your ears but among the buzzing, you heard two familiar voices. A stinging ripped through your left arm, pain weaved itself all throughout your entire body and the world went dizzy. Your name was being shouted in distorted voices, but all you could manage with the last of your energy was a hard whistle. Loud and clear, you called back Micelli and then proceeded to lose consciousness.

“I told you two to get the hell out of there!”

“We had it!”

“All you had was a swollen ego, Quill.”

Your eyes fluttered open to the bickering of two harsh voices, groaning you realized you were in a hotel room. Trying to get up from the bed, you cried out in pain. Immediately, the voices stopped and a second later the two bickering men came rushing in from the living room of the suite.

“Don’t get up,” Peter rolled his eyes and made his way to you, gently pushing you back onto the fluffy pillow.

“What the hell happened,” your voice was raspy and dried. Steve smiled softly at you and offered you a glass of water, you nodded but stopped when the pain gripped you still.

“Those asshole had a bomb, went off just as you killed those two dickheads,” Peter scratched the back of his head and sighed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, I think my ribs are broken and-”

“-they are broken and you’ve been shot, in the left arm,” Steve’s face was pulled into a serious gaze as he handed you a cold glass of water.

“We’ll at least everything’s intact,” you smiled weakly trying to lighten the mood.

“What the two of you did was reckless, I told you to get out of there,” Steve’s voice was stern but his body language said otherwise. You could see the tension in his shoulders and the worry in his blue eyes.

“I know, we-”

“-we kicked ass. She’s a little bruised but she’s tough as nails,” Peter interrupted you and stared right at Steve. “Stop babying her. She’s fine. She’s a not some weak terrain.”

“She was shot! She could have been killed! For someone who claims to care about her, you don’t seem too concerned.”

“Guys,” you warned with an edged tone.

“Listen Cappy, you’ve known her what? A few years? Try a fucking life time,” Peter spatted back taking a few steps in Steve’s direction. “You call yourself a Captain,but don’t even have faith in your team mates.”

“Actually, I should be team leader. You know since I pay for everything,” Tony walked into the room and winked at you. “Sorry to interrupt the pissing contest, but she’s kinda hurt and the last thing she needs is you two bitching at each other.”

Grateful for the interruption, you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the billionaire and sighed. “My body is on fire, I smell and I really need to use the bathroom. So can we resume this another time? Preferably never?”

Steve tucked his hands into his jeans and smiled at the ground. “I’m sorry. Tony’s right, you should get some rest.”

“Whose right?”

Tony looked up at Steve with a smile, “Did you just say I was right? Can I get that in writing?”

With a groan, the blond patted his friend’s back and lead him out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The tension quickly melted away from the room and you pushed your head back into the pillow, eyes on Peter who had walked over to the window. The room fell silent for minutes as you watched his back slowly relax. “Still gotta pee?”

“God yes! And I need to shower, badly.”

He turned with a smirk and strolled into the private bathroom, a moment later you heard the sound of water running. You pulled back the covers, swinging your legs to the edge of the bed. On the nightstand there were a bottle of pills and a note telling you to take two as soon as you woke up. Doing as the note said, the cold water felt replenishing.

“Bath’s ready, come on you little shit,” Peter walked around the bed and helped you to your feet. He was surprisingly patience, his arm around your waist making sure you leaned all your weight onto his body. Once inside the bathroom, he moved you to the edge of the large tub, kneeling down in front of you. You don’t speak as he removed your socks, his moss colored eyes looked up at you for permission to remove the rest of your clothing. You nodded and winced when he attempted to take your shirt off with the utmost gentleness.

“Sorry,” he muttered getting up from the floor to pull you up so he could remove your jeans. Your hand went to his shoulder for balance and you lifted each leg so he could slip the bottoms off. “Uh, underwear next.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the uncharacteristic nervousness in Peter’s voice. “Are you blushing Quill?”

“No!”

“Hmm, if you say so. Just hurry before the water gets cold.”

Thirty minutes later, you were lying in bed next to Peter, in fresh clothes that room service had brought up. The rest of the team had also checked into the hotel for the night, opting to all leave back to New York together the following morning. You leaned into the comfortable pillow, nursing a cold beer and sharing a large pizza with Peter, who was happy to see that they had Back to the Future on demand.

“You know Steve means well, right?”

You shoot Peter a questionable gaze, but his eyes were glued to the flat screen tv. “Come on, Peter. He was just worried, I’m -  we are Avengers and Captain America is our leader. We should have fallen back when he told us too. But it felt-

“- like the good old days,” Peter turned his head to you and he sighed. “He was right though. I peed myself a little when I saw you being thrown back.”

You chuckled and leaned your head against his shoulder, his hand went down to your thigh and he pushed the robe away to expose your skin. He touched his fingers against you and he frowned up at you. “I was scared.”

“Peter,” your heart dropped. The way his words came out in a whisper, you knew they were true and hard for him to admit. “I’m okay though.”

“Yeah, no thanks to me.”

“Screw off, Quill,” you reached out with your right arm and grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’m good. You’re here.”

His eyes soften and he drew his head toward yours. “I’m so happy you didn’t kick the bucket.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed his head away but he retrieved quickly. “Let me see that look again.”

“What look?”

“That starry eyed look, I recognize that face,” Peter teased shifting his body so it was facing you, his hand slid across your waist as he moved down onto the mattress. “I remember you would send me that look from across the room, right in front of Yondu too. And later, you’d sneak into my bunk and we’d bone like two jack rabbits.”

“Very romantic,” you mumbled quietly, settling into a comfortable state, but stiffed when Peter’s fingers moved against your bare waist and made it’s way down to your inner thighs.

“Let me make you feel better, post battle sex is the best,” he gave you his best smile and placed a kiss on your lips, soft and gentle. Your eyes closed and your hips jerked forward on instinct. “How’s your arm?”

The pure concern rolling from the tip of his tongue, it did something to you. It showed you a different side of Peter, one you hadn’t seen in years. And suddenly, you were a pair of teenagers again, hiding out away from the rest of the Ravagers. Tucked inside Peter’s room, door locked and nothing but your bare skin on his.

A perfect moment of fleeting love.

You looked up at the handsome man, who moved his body over yours, careful to not put his weight on you. Lifting your good hand, you touched the side of his face and he nuzzled into it, pressing his lips against your fingers. “It’s good, Peter. It’s all good.” 

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[negans-lucille-tblr]

Absent - Chapter Thirty (FIN)

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

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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[negans-lucille-tblr]

Absent - Chapter Twenty Eight

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: massage, handjob, heavy angst, threat, angry!Dean, talk of murder, talk of drugs, mentions of incest

Chapter WC: 2219

A/Ns: Please send an ask to be tagged in this series.

This fic is complete over on Patreon (30 chapters total)

Absent Masterlist // Sister/Daughter!Reader Masterlist

< Previous Chapter 

Chapter Twenty Eight - Safe

Dean’s POV

“Holy shit, yes, right there,” Dean groans, closing his eyes and humming happily under his breath. “Don’t stop, sweetheart,” he encourages. He hears her giggle. “You ever thought about doing this professionally?” he asks.

“I’m that good, huh?” she prompts with a chuckle. 

“Damn right you are, feel like I should be fucking paying you.” She rubs in little circles across his shoulder and up his neck, and then massages down each side of his spine. Dean can practically feel the tension melting away under her touch as she rubs and presses all the right places on his back. 

“I’m serious, you need to become one of those massage people,” Dean tells her with a happy sigh. She smoothes her hands over his shoulders and then down his chest.

“Wonder how much I should charge for a happy ending?” she purrs, her mouth right by his ear. Dean chuckles and opens his eyes, watching her hands get closer and closer to the front of his boxers. 

“Oh sweetheart, you can charge whatever you want, I already know it’s worth it.” Dean’s phone buzzes alongside him, but he closes his eyes and ignores it as she reaches the elastic waistband of his boxers, and pushes her fingers underneath it. He can feel himself getting aroused, and then once more his phone buzzes, and threatens to pull him back to the reality he’s been working so hard on trying to ignore and forget. 

He takes a deep breath and focuses hard on the feeling of her hand wrapped around him as she slowly pumps and - why the fuck isn’t he getting hard? Just concentrate Dean. His phone buzzes again and then doesn’t stop. 

“Sorry baby, two seconds,” he grumbles, relenting to answering his cell. He looks to see that it's Sam calling and grunts. “What Sam?” 

“You’ve seen it right?” Sam asks, panicked. Dean hasn’t even got out his question of seen what? Before Sam’s speaking up again. “The video. Fuck, Dean, tell me you’ve seen the video.” 

“Sammy slow down, what video?” he asks, sitting up straighter. The girl behind him steps away and leaves him alone. 

“The one of Y/N - fuck,” Sam grunts. “You’ve gotta come home Dean.” 

“Sam! What fucking video?!” Dean shouts down the phone as soon as he realises this is something about Y/N. 

“Check your fucking emails. I’m gonna start working on finding her, just come home.” 

Sam’s hung up before Dean can say anything else, and there’s nausea sitting in the base of his throat as he sees an unopened email sitting in his inbox from an anonymous source. He clicks it with a shaking thumb, and sees the video Sam must’ve been talking about attached to it. He feels even more anxious as he waits for it to load, and the buffer circle taunts him for what feels like hours, but the reality is a few seconds at most. Instantly the shot is of Nick, the bad news that Dean knows he should’ve taken care of years ago. But Sam always had a soft spot for the waste of space, and convinced Dean that he wouldn’t be a problem anymore, so Dean had foolishly let him live. 

“Hey boys, been a while, huh? Kinda miss you, ‘specially you, Sammy. Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but I’ve actually got someone here who wants to talk to you.” The camera pans, and Dean is on his feet the second he sees his daughter tied to a chair. Her shirt is ripped, her lip bust and dripping blood down her chin, and her make up is smudged all over her cheeks as she sobs.

Dean reaches for his jeans and struggles to get them up his legs with one hand, as he shakily holds his phone with the other.

“Daddy,” she sobs, and Dean feels like his heart has stopped. “P-please just do anything he says,” she continues, her voice catching in her throat as she cries. “He said if you don’t he’s… he's g-going to k-kill me.” Dean clenches his jaw hard as he just about manages to do up his jeans with one hand, and frantically searches for his shirt. “Don’t let him kill me. I’m sorry for everything I’ve said and done. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be the perfect daughter, and I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t hate you Daddy, I’m sorry. Please, I love you so m-much,” she sobs. “Uncle Sammy, I’m sorry too, please just let me come home.” Dean can barely keep the bile in his throat, and when he swallows there’s a thick lump as he finally finds his shirt and flies to the door of his apartment complex, not even acknowledging the girl still in her underwear he’s left standing in the living area. 

The jet can’t get him home quick enough, and Dean’s anxiously bouncing his legs and calling every single person he can think of who might be able to find Y/N and bring her home safely the whole journey. He tears through the front door of his house the second he’s close to it, and roars Sam’s name. He finds Sam in his office, typing away on his laptop. 

“Well?” Dean presses urgently. 

“Nothing yet, Charlie’s working on getting a location, but-”

“But isn’t fucking GOOD ENOUGH SAM!” Dean reaches for anything he can get his hands on, and attempts to break it by tearing it down or throwing it across the room. Sam doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and lets Dean have his moment, and when Dean thinks he might have caused enough damage, Sam speaks up again. 

“If you let me finish I was going to say but, we know she can’t be far, and we know that she’s still in the first location. I’m waiting on the call any second now, and as soon as we get it I’ve got ten men ready to go in guns blazing if they have to.” Sam’s voice is calm, like he’s got it under control, but Dean can’t think straight, all he can think about is Y/N - his baby girl, the only person besides Sam he’s ever truly loved, being in danger. 

"How did this even happen?! Where's Benny?" Dean growls. 

"Benny quit earlier on today, Dean. Was gonna tell you when you got back." Dean doesn't get why Benny would just leave and not say goodbye, but Dean has pretty much neglected him since he arrived, so maybe he can't blame the guy. “Nick’s been making demands,” Sam adds carefully. Dean snaps his head to look at his brother. 

“Well, what the fuck are they? Give the bastard what he fucking wants, why are we even hesitating?” 

“He wants you to give him the business.”

“What?!” Dean frowns. “Just hand it over to him, just like that?” Dean’s mind is spinning. 

“I was thinking, if you can give me just a little more time I can draw up a contract with a loop hole, and we can make him think we’re giving him what he wants, but the loophole will mean that he doesn’t get anything.” 

“Well how much time are we fucking talking here, Sam?! He could be about to kill my daughter!”

“A few hours, at most,” Sam argues. “We’ll tell him we’re working on the contract, that’ll buy us some time.” 

Dean scrubs his hands down his face. He just wants Y/N home safe, and Sam seems to be much more level headed than he is right now, so he trusts his judgement. 

“Okay, whatever you think. Whatever gets Y/N home quickly and safely.” Sam nods in agreement. 

“I want that too, Dean, more than anything. You know how much I love Y/N,” he tells him softly. Dean nods now, and tries to hold in the tears he’s been desperately fighting since seeing the video. He rights a chair he’d thrown in anger and sits down in it, clasping his hands tightly in his lap. 

“This is all my fault,” he whispers, looking down at his fingers. “I should’ve been here for her, should’ve been around more. Fuck. I always put the business first, but now - fuck, this all means nothing if I don’t have her. I do everything for her, and that’s always been my drive, but I’ve forgotten along the way that it’s pointless if she’s not around to appreciate it. And fuck, she just wants to love me, Sam. She just wants to know that I love her too. And fuck I do, more than anything - more than you realise. When you’re a parent it’s just - you wouldn’t understand, I can’t even put it into words. But those lines blurred and now - fuck, it’s more than that, and it shouldn’t be, and when I tried to reject that I ended up rejecting her and-” Dean chokes on his tears and shakes his head. 

Sam doesn’t say anything, but Dean doesn’t need him to. He reaches up and dries his cheeks, sniffing hard.

“When we get her back, I’m never putting work first again,” he swears to himself. He lets the quiet grow again, and then thinks back to the video even though he knows it’s only going to upset him more. “Sam?” he asks, looking up. 

“Yeah?” Sam asks softly. 

“Why was Y/N apologising to you?” Sam frowns slightly and swallows. 

“Oh, urm… we had an argument about her going to those parties, that’s all.” Dean continues to frown. “Listen, Dean, I really need to concentrate if I’m going to get this done and get it right.” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m sorry,” Dean nods in understanding and rises to his feet. “I’m gonna get some coffee, need to make sure I’m sober enough.” 

-

Once again, time drags impossibly slowly as Dean sits in his office, feeling utterly helpless, waiting for either the location or Sam to finish the contract. Dean realises, as he sits there and stares at a spot on the wall, that Sam really has got it all together, keeps things ticking over just fine without Dean. And what does Dean do? Gets fucked up, fucks anything that moves and fucks up everything else whilst he’s at it. Y/N only has one father, and he can’t even get that right. He holds his face in his hand and closes his eyes, wanting nothing more than to down a few measures of whiskey. But he knows that he needs to be as sober as possible until Y/N is home safely, so he begrudgingly sips of the black bitter coffee in his mug that’s turning cold. 

His office door opens and Sam walks in. 

“I’ve almost got it, I just need some signatures for you to hand me over some stuff.”

“What? What do you mean?” Dean frowns.

“I need to have control over certain accounts and stuff for this to work.” 

“You? Why you? What are you talking about Sam?” Dean asks, confused. 

“It doesn’t matter, Dean, just fucking sign the paperwork so I can finish this contract and we can get Y/N home, please!” Sam thrusts the papers in Dean’s face, and Dean frowns before grabbing his pen and scrawling his name over the dotted lines. Whatever it takes, he supposes. Sam lets out a breath and offers him a sympathetic smile. “Thanks, let me know if Charlie calls in the meantime, she’s gotta be close now.” 

Sam leaves Dean alone again, and Dean tries to figure out what Sam is doing, but he doesn’t understand the first thing about paperwork and law, that’s always been Sam’s thing, so he stops trying when it starts giving him a headache. He waits in silence once more, and the shrill sound of his office phone ringing snaps him out of his fog.

“Yeah?” he answers immediately. 

“Dean.” It’s Sam, and Dean’s disappointed about the fact. “Listen, I thought I’d try some hacking of my own, just stuff that I used to do now and then, you know?” “Get to the point, Sam,” Dean grunts. 

“I think I’ve got the location.” 

“What? Where?” Dean asks immediately, poised and ready to leave. 

“Some warehouse on the edge of town. We should at least check it out, right?” Sam presses.

“Damn right we should.”

-

Dean’s barely let the car stop before he’s jumping out of it. Sam’s getting out of his car directly behind him.

“Dean, wait,” Sam calls out. “We can’t just go in there guns blazing, what if he’s got her?” he reasons. Dean grunts, but knows that Sam’s right, and slows down, but refuses to drop his gun. They enter the building quietly, cautiously looking around until they enter the main warehouse, and it’s almost silent except for Y/N’s sobs. Dean turns a corner and sees her, sitting alone in the chair she was sat in in the video, and he glances around for Nick, before running to her. She flinches the second she sees him, and he’s quick to soothe her. 

“Baby girl, it’s your Daddy,” he tells her softly, reaching for her binds as he undoes them. She instantly throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly. “Where’s Nick, baby?” he asks gently. 

“G-gone,” she whispers. “Daddy, I thought I was gonna die.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you, you’re safe now.”

Next Chapter >

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​ / @hamildork​ / @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​

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Absent - Chapter Nine

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, incestuous thoughts, mentions of male masturbation, drugs, mentions of drug use, mentions of prostitution, human trafficking, underage sex workers, non-con implied, dub-con implied, mentions of taking virginity, flirting, teasing, mentions of guns, lots of illegal activities

Chapter WC: 2768

A/Ns: Please send an ask to be tagged in this series. My “Always and Forevers” and my “SPN Forevers” will be tagged automatically :)

Chapters 10-25 are available now on Patreon

Absent Masterlist // Sister/Daughter!Reader Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Chapter Nine - Virgin

Dean’s POV

Dean can’t help it. Ever since Sam had pointed out that all the girls he was screwing around with were around Y/N’s age, he couldn’t think of anything else. Until now, he’d never been bothered by the fact that they were younger than him, but maybe that wasn’t what bothered Dean the most, anyway. Because Sam had said something else to him before that, something that Dean had tried to shrug off, but it clung to the back of his throat like a bad taste. 

“You think pretty young things like that would be interested in you if you had nothing to sweeten the deal?” 

Dean had always known there was some give and take in his hook ups, and his give was always product, but he’d never considered that they might not want him if he didn’t have that to offer. He thought he’d finally been able to prove Sam wrong with Penny, after all she was clean, she didn’t do that anymore, and she’d still turned up on his doorstep ready for a good time. But then afterwards she’d asked for it, and Dean couldn’t leave that thought alone. Everyone always wants something from him. And then there’s Y/N. She doesn’t want what the others want. Hell, she doesn’t really want something she shouldn’t. All she truly wants is his love and attention, she’s just going the wrong way about it - and that’s on him. He’s never been a real father to her and he knows it. So maybe these blurred lines are his fault. He’s the adult, he’s the one that’s supposed to know better, the one that’s meant to teach her. He’s meant to see the lines crystal clear. 

So then why is he getting caught up in this? He’s let her overstep too much already. The lingerie shopping, the touching in the back of the car, the grinding in his office - he should’ve stopped all those things so much sooner than he had. And dare he admit it, but it was only because he had just relieved himself the night before that he’d managed to stop Y/N in her tracks as she stood there looking like that, in the lingerie his money had bought her. Fuck. Dean doesn’t even want to consider what would’ve happened had he not gotten himself off in the shower. And it’s different to think about it. It’s different to imagine what she’d look like, taste like, feel like on his cock. At least that’s what he tells himself, to make himself feel better for getting off more than once to the very thought of his own not-so-little little girl. 

Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to Dean. He loves her more than anything - more than Sam. He’s never had a love like that before, and he doesn’t even know how to deal with that, so he’s always pushed it away and ignored it. Because everything Dean Winchester touches gets tainted or ruined somehow, and he’ll be damned if that includes his daughter. But she’s already tainted and ruined, wanting him in ways no daughter should want her own father. But she does - want him, that is. She wants him. 

“Sir?” Dean glances to see the door held open for him. “We’re here.” Dean glances to the tall building and nods his head. 

“So we are, thanks Clive.” Dean gets out and buttons up his jacket as he heads towards the hotel doors. It’s opened for him by a doorman and he steps into the immaculate building and swans over to the receptionist. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m here to see the boss.” He flashes a wink at her and she raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. 

“He’s not here,” she tells him shortly, her blue eyes landing back on her computer as she starts to type. Dean’s a little thrown off that his charm hadn’t worked its usual treat, and clears his throat. 

“I have a meeting with him, actually,” Dean tells her. 

“I’m sure you do,” she replies plainly. Dean purses his lips for a second and then tries again. 

"Tell you what, honey, why don't you call him and let him know that Dean Winchester is here?" 

Her blue eyes widen, and her cheeks flush a darker shade of pink as she quickly tucks some of her auburn hair behind her ear. 

"Yes, of course, Sir." She instantly picks up the phone and presses a button. Dean flashes her another wink and watches as she offers him a timid smile. He waits leaning against the desk, casting his eyes around the black shining marble he can see his entire reflection in. "Mr Winchester? If you'd like to follow me." The redhead rises to her feet, and her heels click along the floor as she leads the way to the elevators. Dean follows on a few steps behind, enjoying the way her ass wiggles in her tight skirt, and when she steps to one side and allows him first entry into the elevator, he extends a hand to reference that she goes first. She nods politely and steps inside, and then Dean follows silently. She clears her throat delicately as the elevator doors close behind her and she glances at him. 

"I love your tie," she compliments. Dean smooths it down his chest and offers her a thank you in the form of a smile, noting that her frosty attitude is gone now. "I've heard a lot about you," she blushes. 

"All good things, I hope," Dean smirks. She bites down on her bottom lip and turns her body more towards him. 

"Oh, some very good things. I'd love to find out if they're all true… Should you ever be looking for a good time." Normally Dean would not be one to turn down an extremely attractive girl who's clearly up for some fun, but with his current inner turmoil weighing on him, he doesn't like the way her sudden interest settles in his gut. 

"I think I'm fine finding my own good time, thank you," he tells her shortly. Her cheeks only turn darker, almost matching her hair, as she steps out of the elevator as soon as the doors have parted enough to allow her slender body to slip through, and Dean scoffs under his breath before following her out. 

He's led through a long corridor, and she knocks on the large double doors in front of them once they reach the end. They’re opened by two scantily dressed women and the redhead offers Dean a forced smile, before encouraging him to enter the room. The doors are shut behind him, locking the receptionist out, and instantly the women are pulling on his coat to remove it. Dean allows them after a little moment of confusion, then spots the person he came to see in the first place. The shorter man swans towards him with a smirk set deep on his lips. 

“Dean Winchester, knew it wouldn’t take too long for you to stumble into my neck of the woods.” 

“Crowley,” Dean grunts. Dean isn’t dumb, doing any kind of business with Crowley isn’t a smart move, but once Dean has what he’s come for, he can take control. Dean looks around the room, large floor to ceiling windows span the length, looking out over the city, with several girls all dressed in varying forms of lingerie, dotted around the open space.  

“Enjoying the view?” Crowley prompts. Dean brings his attention back to him and forces a smile. 

“I’m a busy man, let’s talk business,” Dean instructs. Crowley references a couch for Dean to sit on, and takes a larger armchair situated on the opposite side of the coffee table. Dean sits down and instantly some girl is sitting alongside him, all legs and fluttering eyelashes. Dean glances over her once and offers her a weak smile, not letting himself get distracted. He knows Crowley is just trying to sweeten his shitty offer already. Crowley sits back, a blonde girl sitting on the arm of his chair and draping her arm across his shoulders, playing with his hair softly. 

“So, as we’ve already discussed, we’d do a sort of exchange,” Crowley explains. “A shipment of my goods for a shipment of yours.”

“Yeah, see I’ve been crunching some numbers, and that isn’t going to work for me. My shipments are much more valuable than yours,” Dean explains smugly. 

Crowley scoffs, “and what makes you think that?” 

“C’mon, strippers and escorts aren’t hard to come by, you practically fall over them if you walk down mainstreet after midnight. What I supply has a higher price tag.” 

“Well it’s a good job we’re not talking just strippers and escorts then.” Crowley looks smug as he nods to the only other male in the room that Dean hadn’t even noticed yet, stood by a door, and he opens it and walks into the next room.

“We’re here to talk about shipping in girls, aren’t we?” Dean prompts. Crowley doesn’t say anything, and the guy returns with his hand gripping a young woman’s arm. She’s wearing a black g-string and a simple black bra, her breasts barely filling the cups. Her eyes are wide and fearful as he shoves her forward and she stands there shaking, hugging herself. 

“What’s going on?” Dean presses.

“That’s my sample,” Crowley smirks. 

Dean looks at the girl again and sees a girl barely older than Y/N, if at all. 

“How old is she?” Dean presses, not taking his eyes off her. 

“Let’s just say she’s eighteen,” Crowley shrugs. Dean frowns slightly. “Virgin too,” he adds. “This one came in yesterday, so she’s fresh meat and all yours for free.” Dean glances at Crowley and then back at the girl as she trembles in her place. “Can get you any girl you want, any shape and size, age, race, hair colour, you name it.” Dean swallows hard, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He’d known what Crowley offers is barely legal, but he’d naively assumed that the girls would want to be there - at the very least they’d be over eighteen. “These ones are like gold dust,” Crowley carries on, clearly feeling like he needs to upkeep his little sales pitch. “Virgins go for a pretty penny. Can usually auction them off to the highest bidder. And hey, if they’re tight and young enough - and the customer is dumb enough - you can always get away with exaggerating the truth.” 

“That what you’re doing? Pretending she’s a young virgin so I’ll go for her?” Dean asks, almost hopeful that's true. Crowley scoffs again and shakes his head. 

“C’mon Dean, I couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, guy like you can sniff out a whore from a mile away I’m sure. She’s the real deal, and I’ve got a hundred more like her just waiting for you.” 

“I’m not interested,” Dean shakes his head. The thought of touching that girl at all makes him uncomfortable. He’s no rapist and he’s certainly not a paedophile. All he can see when he looks at her is Y/N and that makes him more uncomfortable than anything else. He feels sick just thinking about how Crowley would look at his baby girl and see a higher price tag, just because she’s a virgin. 

“Now now, Dean, don’t be so rash,” Crowley warns. “When was the last time you fucked a virgin, hm? Bet you’ve forgotten how tight they are, huh? Fuck, there’s nothing like sinking your cock into unused pussy, is there?” Dean’s mind instantly goes to Y/N and how she would feel. The very thoughts that have sent him over the edge several times over the last week or so. Dean gets up abruptly, making the poor girl jump out of her skin. 

“I’m going to think about it, I’ve got somewhere else I need to be.” Dean doesn’t wait for a reply from Crowley, grabbing his coat from the hanger the women had put it on and leaving the room quickly. He cab feel nausea pressing at the base of his throat as he enters the elevator as quickly as he can, and he leans against the back wall taking some deep breaths. He needs the image of that girl out of his mind already. 

He practically speed walks out of the elevator and across the lobby of the hotel, the redhead from earlier catching his eye. 

“Thank you for coming, Mr Winchester,” she calls after him. Dean stops for a second and looks at her. She’s older than his usual girls, but older is good on this occasion. There’s no denying that woman is in her early twenties at least. 

“You want to have a good time, sweetheart?” he prompts with a smirk, turning back around and heading over to the desk. “Because I’m sure I could show you the time of your life.” She bites her bottom lip and glances at the clock on the wall.

“I get off in two hours,” she purrs. 

“You’ll be getting off more than that, baby,” he winks. “I’ll send a car for you in two hours.”

-

Dean’s New York penthouse is maybe one of his favourites away from home, and he’s already feeling better than he was, as he pours himself another whiskey and waits for the redhead, whatever her name is, to arrive. His sleeves are rolled up and his tie long gone, the first several buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. He’d been feeling better since his drop in at the warehouse he has in the area. The lost shipment had finally shown up and he’d personally made sure that every gun was accounted for. For the most part he trusted Garth, the site manager, so he eventually left him to it. He never hung around the warehouses too long - not wanting to risk too much of a heavy association with those buildings. 

Once he’d returned to the hotel, he’d taken a trip down to the basement level, to check on production, taking a few samples of his own in the form of pills and powders. He feels much more at ease dealing with what he knows best. Drugs and weapons are what his father dealt with, it’s what Dean and Sam were raised to deal with too, so Dean could understand Sam’s hesitation about expanding to involve the sex trade. Sam had always been so against it, and Dean just assumed it was Sam being anal and prudish - but after what he’s witnessed tonight, Dean hates to admit that Sam’s right. Smug bastard wouldn’t let Dean hear the end of that. 

< Deal’s going well. All okay at home?

His text is a lie that Sam will buy, and he’s decided that the ‘deal’ is going to 'fall through' in a few weeks, just to save himself the embarrassment of admitting defeat to his brother. The knock on his door has him disregarding his cell for the rest of the night, as he opens the door and sees her standing there.

“Hey,” she purrs.

“Come in, sweetheart.” He steps to one side and she swans in and shrugs off her coat, placing it on the first surface she comes to. “So I didn’t catch your name before,” Dean tells her, closing the door behind her. 

“It’s Aimee,” she replies smoothly. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” He walks around her and fixes her a whiskey, handing her the glass. 

“Don’t tell me this is the best you’ve got?” She takes a sip anyway, her red lipstick leaving behind a print on the rim of the glass, and her eyes don’t leave him the whole time. 

“Oh it gets much better, darlin’,” he smirks, pulling her in by her waist. He kisses her passionately and she places her glass down on the counter behind him, before wrapping her arms around his neck. He fishes in his pocket for the samples he acquired and holds them up, as she pulls away and her eyes sparkle.

“Pick your poison, you wanna pop something, or would you rather lick it off my cock?” She giggles at his comment. “I know what I’d prefer, baby.” She bites her bottom lip, her hand trailing down to the front of his slacks. 

“Think I’ll go for option B,” she tells him seductively.

“Oh good choice,” Dean hums in approval, “s’long as you let me take a hit off that perfect ass of yours, been thinking about that all day.” 

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping onto his already half hard cock tighter, “what are we waiting for?”

Next Chapter > 

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​ / @dirty-pan-goblin​ / @little-diable​ / @waywardbaby​

* * *

Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13​ / @akshi8278​ / @atc74​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @angelofthetrenchcoats​ / @pyroqueen-k​ / @thecreatiivecorner​ / @collette04​ / @lovealways-j​ / @noneedtoknow789​ / @socalgem1124​ / @impala1967dwinchester​ / @thoughts-and-funnies​ / @blueaurastreak​ / @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​ /

* * *

Absent Tags: @deans-baby-momma​ / @Chriswhore / @lifeofrileyp​ / @hamildork​ / @beskaradberoya​ / @smellingofpoetry​ / @slut-for-jared​ / @destiel-bridesmaid​ / @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x​ / @healpeony​ / @cemini-winchester​  / @destielstuffandthings​ / @moonlightandscarlet​ / @prettysourabbie​ / @bobbysxidgits​ / @brookelan​ / @tootsie56 / @xhannahbananax03​

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Absent - Chapter Twenty Six

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, mentions of drug use, mentions of casual sex, mentions of father/daughter incest, dub-con, mild sexual assault

Chapter WC: 2046

A/Ns: Please send an ask to be tagged in this series.

This fic is complete over on Patreon (30 chapters total)

Absent Masterlist // Sister/Daughter!Reader Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty Six - Wrong Brother

Sam’s POV

Sam is quick to notice the way that Dean throws himself into his dining chair at breakfast, and glances up at his older brother from his newspaper cautiously. 

“Everything okay?” Sam checks. Dean glares down his coffee cup and then takes a swig, before practically throwing a piece of toast onto the plate in front of him. “Dean?” Sam presses. 

“What the fuck do you want now, Sam?” Dean grunts, looking up at Sam with a thunderous look on his face.

“What’s happened?” Sam sighs, knowing straight away something has ruffled Dean’s feathers, and for once, Sam’s fairly certain it’s not him. He’s been keeping a somewhat  low profile since Benny pulled Dean out of his pit of despair. Fucking Benny - Sam’s been trying to get rid of him since day one, but now that Dean has some sort of attachment to the guy driving Y/N around, and looking out for her, Sam fears Benny is about to become a permanent name on the payroll. 

Sam’s never going to get that level of control over the business back, not for as long as Benny’s around. Benny likes to keep Dean focused, and on the wrong things. Plus, Dean not worrying about Y/N as much whilst Benny is around only means he’s getting further and further away from her. Sam waits patiently for Dean’s reply, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Dean picks at his toast and then grabs a piece of bacon and chews on that. “Dean - if there’s a mess I need to clean up, just tell me.” 

“Always about fucking work with you, isn’t it Sammy?” Dean snaps. 

“That’s rich coming from you. When was the last time you spent even five minutes with your daughter?” Sam scoffs. 

“Don’t fucking start, it’s complicated,” Dean grumbles, his cheeks turning pink. Sam shakes his head, knowing just how complicated it is now that they’re not fucking anymore, and Y/N is hellbent on turning herself into one of those sluts Dean has on speed dial. Great job Benny’s doing. Sam bites back the smirk and then looks nonchalantly at his paper.

“She’s urm, she’s been going out a lot recently, seems to be sampling some of the business from the other side of the table,” Sam notes casually. “Thought you said Benny was keeping an eye on her?”

“He is, he’s getting her home safely, isn’t he? I’m not paying him to babysit her, she’s an adult now.” Dean doesn’t look at Sam when he says it, so Sam knows he doesn’t really believe himself when he acts like it doesn’t bother him. 

“Well, maybe she does need a babysitter, god knows what she’s getting up to out there… and with who,” Sam stirs. 

“Shut the fuck up, Sam, she’s not your daughter. Don’t try and tell me how to raise my own kid, alright?” Dean growls, pointing at Sam. 

Sam’s not sure what else he or Y/N can do to steer Dean’s attention towards her, because no doubt that’s exactly why she’s found her rebellious streak. But he does know that the last month Dean has been more focused on business than ever, and Sam is rapidly running out of time. 

-

Dean conveniently decided to leave town on business later that morning, and Sam’s pretty sure that that business is between a girl’s legs, with half the product from the nearest warehouse they own for company. At least Y/N’s antics are somewhat affecting him. Sam could get used to this, especially as he has just a little bit of power back again. He’s so close to getting everything he wants. Just not quite. He had hoped after Y/N and Dean’s little break up that she’d come running to her Uncle Sammy, feeling all rejected and unloved, and he’d be there to show her exactly how much he cares. He’d have refused at first, of course. But only to make her feel like it was her idea. And they did get close, that time she sat in his lap in Dean’s office, but then her attention was stolen by every guy in the city around her own age, it seems. Y/N suddenly isn’t so sheltered anymore, so it’s probably going to be harder for Sam to get what he wants than he’d first thought. Her options used to be far more limited, but now they seem endless, and Sam can’t help feel his skin turn just a little green at that fact. 

Sam’s heading towards Dean’s office, in pursuit of some paperwork that Dean’s no doubt left in a drawer somewhere and forgotten to sign, when he sees the door open and then hears Benny’s voice.

“Fuck.” Sam frowns and tries to make himself lighter on his feet as he gets closer. “Jesus Christ.” Sam steps into the doorway, coming face to face with Benny’s back, and from what Sam can see between his legs, there’s someone kneeling there. No, not just someone. Y/N. “You shouldn’t be doing this, doll.”

“No she fucking shouldn’t,” Sam speaks up, anger flooding his veins. Benny snaps his head around to see Sam, and then quickly tries to put himself away.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Benny immediately begins apologising. Y/N seems frozen, but then she quickly reaches up and wipes her lips dry.

“Uncle Sammy, what are you doing in here?” 

“Could ask you the same thing,” he replies flatly. Her face turns two shades darker, and she rises to her feet and glances nervously at Benny. 

“It’s not - it’s not what you think it is,” she offers.

“Sam, I’m sorry, nothing like this has ever happened before I prom-”

“Shut up,” Sam snaps, silencing them both. 

Y/N stares wide eyed at Sam, and then holds her hand over her mouth and begins to giggle. Sam’s not sure if she’s high or if she’s just nervous, but he can’t see what’s so fucking funny, and apparently neither can Benny. 

“Sam, please don’t tell Dean, I swear that nothing is going on between-”

“I said shut up, Benny.” Sam can’t fucking think with that fucking drawl in his ear, especially not when Y/N is still giggling like that. Each second that passes it’s like it’s taunting him. Like she finds it funny that he wasn’t even second best. She chose to fuck Benny over him. But he can’t think about that right this second. He needs to figure out what he’s gonna do with Benny. Then it hits him, and for the first time, he’s actually kind of grateful for this situation. 

“I won’t tell Dean,” Sam tells them, unable to help notice the way Y/N frowns slightly. And then the realisation of why she was on her knees for Benny hits Sam, and he feels just a little better again. His eyes flicker to the security camera in the corner of Dean’s room, and he suppresses the smirk. Clever girl, he can’t help but think. But you chose the wrong ‘brother’. “I won’t tell him if you quit.” Sam looks at Benny and stares hard. “I wouldn’t be a good Uncle if I continued to trust you alone with my niece, and if Dean finds out about this, let’s just say your job is the last thing you need to worry about losing.” Benny looks down and nods slowly in understanding. He glances at Y/N and sighs.

“Alright, I’ll quit. Right now.” Sam smiles, unable to hide it this time that he’s finally getting rid of one problem, now he just needs to get Dean’s attention back on Y/N again, just long enough that Sam can step back into power, and then he can focus on getting Y/N right where he wants her. 

“Great. I’ll delete the evidence and tell Dean that business called you away, but I’m warning you, Benny, don’t ever come back.” Benny nods again, but doesn’t say anything else, and Y/N doesn’t jump to defend him as he turns and leaves the room, showing Sam she doesn’t really care about him. Once they’re alone, Sam glances up at the camera once more and sighs. 

“Y/N, what the fuck were you thinking? That man is bad news. And a driver of all people.” She crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips. 

“He’s not just a driver, he’s one of my father’s friends. Would’ve loved to have seen Daddy's face when he saw that footage,” she smirks. 

“So this is about getting his attention, huh?” Sam presses, stepping closer. Sam watches as she noticeably builds her walls again and shrugs a shoulder. Sam bites his lip for a second and steps closer still. “You know, there are much better ways to do that,” he notes, glancing over her body. 

“Like how?” she pries, seemingly still trying to sound disinterested. 

Sam smirks softly, and then reaches out to trail his fingers up her arm. 

“You’ve tried fucking strangers, you’ve tried fucking Benny…” he trails off, the suggestion in his sentence clear - at least he thinks so. 

“Daddy would kill you,” she tells him quietly. Y/N is, of course, telling the truth, but she doesn’t have to know that he’s gonna delete a lot more than the footage of her and Benny when he comes to it. 

“But think about all the attention he’d give you then,” Sam tempts, reaching up to brush some of her hair back over her shoulder. 

“You’re willing to risk all that just so my father gives me some attention?” Y/N presses.

“Anything for my darling niece and her father. You know I want you both to be happy.” His fingers brush along the underside of her jaw and he grips it softly, letting his thumb ghost along her bottom lip. 

She parts them slightly, and Sam notices how her breathing quickens just a little. 

“What do you say, sweetheart? Want Uncle Sammy to help you win back Daddy’s attention?” he whispers, his eyes not leaving her lips. She bites her bottom one softly. 

“I-I don’t know,” she admits in a whisper. 

“‘Course you do, baby girl,” he purrs, and he notices how her lips pull tight for a second, but he keeps going regardless. “Don’t you remember our little lesson before? Got that pussy nice and wet didn’t it?” he asks. She whimpers, and her bottom lip trembles. 

“That was different,” she argues. 

“No it wasn’t. This is exactly the same. C’mon don’t you want to?” he presses, getting a little irritated. 

He leans forward and presses his lips to hers, but he can’t help but notice how she recoils just a little, and this isn’t how it’s supposed to fucking go. What is her problem?! He tries kissing her harder, walking her back and trapping her against his body and Dean’s desk, and she whimpers again. 

“No, Uncle Sammy, it feels wrong, stop,” she tells him, pushing on his chest. 

“Aw, c’mon darling, you’ve fucked everything else with a dick in a ten mile radius.” He reaches up to tug down her pants, and she tries to get out of his grip.

“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. 

Next Chapter >

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​​​

* * *

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​​​​ / @hamildork​​​ / @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​

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Absent - Chapter Twenty Nine

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: fluff, comfort, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of murder, more fluff, mild incest

Chapter WC: 1879

A/Ns: Please send an ask to be tagged in the final chapter of this series.

This fic is complete over on Patreon (30 chapters total)

Absent Masterlist // Sister/Daughter!Reader Masterlist

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Chapter Twenty Nine - Paris

Your POV

You cling to Dean practically the whole way to the airport in the back of the car. He soothes you by stroking your hair and back, telling you everything is going to be okay and that you’re safe now. You close your eyes, your face pressed into the side of his neck as you take in the smell of his aftershave, and bask in the way that he’s finally holding you again. You never want him to let go, but he does eventually, only to take your hand and walk you to the jet. You get on and stand hugging yourself nervously when Dean stops to talk in hushed whispers to the pilot. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he orders softly, leading you over to the seats. He slides in beside you and once more wraps his arm around you, and then as the doors close, one of the hostesses approaches you with a first aid kit and very calmly and gently asks if she can see to your busted lip. “It’s okay, darling,” Dean reassures you when you look to him for confirmation, so you turn back to the pretty brunette with soft brown eyes and nod your head slowly. She offers you a warm smile and works on cleaning you up, and you’re feeling a little better when she’s done.

“There,” she smiles, “Can I get either of you anything?” 

“We’ll have two whiskeys please,” Dean orders. You don’t say anything about the fact that he’s allowing you to drink, but you are grateful for the gesture nonetheless, knowing that it will take the edge off of your nerves. The hostess returns quickly with your drinks, and then tells you to let her know should you need anything else. Once she leaves you alone, you take a sip and lick your lips only to wince slightly. 

“Where are we going?” you finally ask, your voice feeling and sounding hoarse and weak. 

“Paris, I know you love it there,” Dean smiles warmly. “Paperwork went through last week, so that hotel is officially yours.” You look at him and frown.

“Mine?” you press. 

“Well, I do need a signature from you, but yeah, all yours.” 

The information that you own an entire hotel in Paris is a little overwhelming, especially given the circumstances, so you don’t really know what to say in response. Dean smiles softly and puts his hand on your leg. 

“We’ll discuss it properly when you’re feeling better.” You just nod and offer him a small appreciative smile. You play with your glass and then take another sip, and Dean sighs softly next to you. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry for how I’ve been recently, and what I’ve done to you. It was never my intention. I love you more than anything else, you know that don’t you?” You glance at him and nod, but you can’t help thinking you wished he loved you in the way you loved him. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise that I’ve been doing this all wrong. But I promise that you’re coming first from now on, no matter what. When things settle down I’m going to let Sam take over the business, and my focus is and always will be you.” 

You’ve heard a similar promise before, but Dean didn’t sound as genuine as he does now. You look at him for a long moment and see the sincerity on his face before smiling. You nod and he smiles in return, leaning forward to kiss your forehead for a long moment. Your stomach grumbles, and Dean pulls away laughing softly. 

“Why don’t we eat?” he suggests, waving the hostess over again. 

-

Dean seems impressed when you finish the entire plate for once, and asks if you’re up for dessert. You nod enthusiastically at his suggestion to share a chocolate fudge brownie sundae, and one is placed in front of you with two spoons within minutes. He lets you eat all the whipped cream from the top, because he knows that’s your favourite part, and watches you with a satisfied smile on his face every time you hum your approval for how good it tastes under your breath. 

“Baby girl,” Dean starts hesitantly. “I want that son of a bitch to pay for what he did to you, but I’m going to need you to tell me what happened.” The smile that had slowly etched its way onto your face fades, and you move around a piece of brownie soaked in ice cream inside the sundae glass for a moment. 

“I wanted to go to a party, so Nathan offered to drive me, because Benny quit,” you begin. 

“Nathan - Uncle Sam’s driver?” Dean presses. You nod your head “yes”, and then continue. 

“He took me to the warehouse instead. I think he must’ve been working for Nick, because he answered a call whilst I was in the car, and that’s when he started to drive in the wrong direction to the party.” You can feel the same anxiety you felt in the back of his car creeping over your body as you relive the story for your father, but you push through. “He was so nice to me at first, but then he turned nasty, and he took me into the warehouse where Nick was, and then Nick said he could go.” 

The frown etches deeper and deeper into Dean’s brow as you talk, but he doesn’t stop you, so you carry on. 

“Nick said he’d waited a long time to get his hands on me, then he broke my shirt, hit me, told me I needed to look the part for the video. At first I thought I was going to die, but looking back, I don’t think he really would’ve killed me. It’s like he wanted me alive.” 

“He knows I wouldn’t have met his demands if you were dead. He never wanted to hurt you, he wanted to get to me. I’m so sorry Y/N, this is what I’d always worried about, after your Mom-” Dean cuts himself short and shakes his head.

“What about my Mom?” you press, feeling a little sick. Dean sighs and looks down at his hands. 

“Your mom didn’t just leave, Y/N, I didn’t know how to tell you, because I’ve always felt responsible.” You frown, and wait for him to explain further. “Your mother was killed by the enemy. I got revenge, but it didn’t do anything to make me feel better, and I never told you because I didn’t want you to hate me,” he admits. 

You reach out and place your hand on his thigh, squeezing gently. 

“I don’t hate you, Daddy. It wasn’t your fault,” you reassure him. True, you feel very little attachment to your mother because you barely remember her, but you still can’t blame your father for her death. He didn’t pull the trigger, and he didn’t ask for someone else to, either. Dean seems to let out a breath, and closes his eyes for a moment, before leaning forward and kissing your forehead again. You smile into the kiss and then take another mouthful of sundae when he pulls back. 

“So, what happened to Nick, where did he go?” he pries again. 

”Right,” you sigh, nodding. “He got a call, I don’t really remember what he said, but he left afterwards.” 

“Nathan probably tipped him off, he was the one that drove Uncle Sam to the warehouse. That son of a bitch,” Dean growls next to you. “Don’t you worry about anything sweetheart, me and Uncle Sammy are gonna make sure neither of them can ever hurt you again, I promise.” You smile and nod your head, believing him. 

-

Dean spends the remainder of the flight making calls, mainly to Sam as they try to figure out where Nick could be and exactly what’s happened, now that they have your side of the story. When you finally land, your father and uncle exchange one last call before Dean hangs up and smiles at you. 

“Uncle Sam’s got it under control now. Neither of them are going to hurt you again.” He squeezes your thigh and you place your hand over his, and both stay that way until you reach the hotel. 

Walking into the penthouse suite is bittersweet. You have so many good memories here, but it saddens you to know it isn’t like that anymore. The last time you were standing in this room with Dean, you were trying to peel your lips off of one another so you could head to the airport, and now it’s like that was a whole different world. Dean notices the way you’re looking around and smiles softly

“You know, this place is all yours now, if you want to redecorate just say the word.” You glance towards the master bedroom, the one Dean let you use last time you stayed. The door has been left open, and although the bed is freshly made, you can still envisage crumpled bed sheets from the first time.

“I like it the way it is, it brings back good memories,” you admit softly, feeling your cheeks heat up. Dean also glances into the bedroom at your words and a tiny smile graces his lips. 

“You should get some rest, sweetheart,” he suggests. You nod your head reluctantly, heading towards the bedroom in question. “I’ll be just out here if you need me,” Dean adds. 

-

You toss and turn for a few hours, but sleep evades you. You can’t stop thinking about when you shared this bed with Dean, and all the things you’d done on it. Added to everything else that’s happened or come to light recently, Nathan and Nick, your mom, this hotel being yours - it leaves you staring at the ceiling. You eventually roll out of bed and tiptoe to the door, peering around it to see Dean sitting back on the couch. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, buttons undone halfway down his chest, and his hair is tousled - from his fingers no doubt - as he nurses some whiskey. 

“Daddy?” you call out.

“Hey Princess, thought you were asleep,” he sits up, his green eyes staring at you. 

“I can’t - can you…” you trail off, but you don’t need to finish your sentence because Dean finishes his drink and stands up. 

“Of course, baby girl.” He walks towards you, and follows you over to the bed as you climb back in and watch him start to strip down to his boxers. He pulls the sheet back and climbs underneath it alongside you, and then lays on his side so you’re facing each other. 

He reaches up and softly cups the side of your face. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d have lost you, sweetheart,” he whispers, and in the darkness you can just make out his eyes glistening with tears. You reach up and wrap your hand around his wrist. 

“I’ve never wanted to go anywhere,” you tell him honestly. 

“I know, baby,” he smiles sadly. He hesitantly leans forward and goes to kiss your forehead, but you tilt your head back to continue looking at him, and instead he drops his lips to yours, and kisses you softly, but passionately. And it’s the only thing you need to feel better.

Next Chapter >

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​