Hell House had such accurate sibling representation… Dean and Sam both teamed up against each other with pranks through the episode; then they found someone who they both hated, so the two joined forces and fucked the ghostfacers over. If that isn't what siblings look like….
when meg got re introduced into supernatural with a new actress/meat suit, i was surprised that we didn’t get more sam/meg stuff, because i mean sam WAS the one to befriend (ish) her in the first place
Summary: Dean and Y/N are finally happy and settled in Paris, but there’s something threatening to disturb their peace - and with them comes secrets and betrayal.
Rating: 18+ (Smut/Angst/Fluff - Dark scenes)
Chapter Tags: angst, mentions of struggling to perform (ahem), mentions of oral sex (fem rec), teasing, flirting, jealousy, mentions of mile high clubs, mentions of public sex, heavy groping, fluff
Chapter WC: ± 2.7K
A/Ns: Please send me an ask to be tagged in this series!
This fic is currently being posted four weeks (8 chapters) ahead on Discord.
Too Close Masterlist // Daughter!Reader Masterlist
< Previous Chapter
Dean feels a little better since he’s come clean about the hotel in London. He can understand now, looking back at how he’d been, why she’d be so paranoid about what he’s been up to. Dean hardly has a track record of being faithful and not sleeping with every pretty thing he comes across, for starters. But he also probably has seemed very suspicious sneaking around behind her back like this. Going away on business and locking himself in his office used to be a regular occurrence, but since being in Paris, he’d barely done any kind of business without Y/N at least in the loop. The hotel is hers after all, he’s just been around to make sure it’s being run properly and people are doing their jobs. She’s called all the shots, and he’s always been open talking to her about business related to the hotel, she deserves to be in the know. But it’s been different with London, of course, and now he can see why she’d gotten as worked up as she had the night before.
And Dean had wanted to fuck her – he’d really wanted to – but he’d been so tired from back to back meetings, listening to legal crap that he barely understood. For some reason his body wasn’t playing ball, no matter how hard Y/N tried. He’d always found it sexy when she was desperate like that. When she just needed him. It takes him back to the days when he was still trying to fight off the feelings he had for her, when she’d try so hard to get him to want her. He had assumed she’d get bored and stop trying once she’d figured out that she’d gotten him now. Most people get complacent quickly in relationships – at least, from what Dean’s seen and heard from others. He’s never been in a proper relationship, never been faithful to anyone for longer than a month or two before Y/N. But Y/N still acts like she’s trying to win him over, trying to get him to cave. Like she still needs to prove something. And whilst that is sexy, it also breaks Dean’s heart that there seems to be nothing he can say or do to convince her he’s not going anywhere. One day she’ll get it, she just has to.
Dean had even tried to get in the mood again after their argument, when he’d invited her into the shower with him. And despite how damn irresistible she looked all naked and wet as he pinned her against the wall and desperately rutted himself into her in hopes he’d get hard – nothing fucking happened. Dean relented to getting on his knees on the bathroom floor and balancing Y/N over his shoulders so he could eat her out until she’d cum a few times on his face. It had at least sated her enough for her to sleep now. Dean watches her for a moment or two, before slipping out of the bedroom and making his way to the bar to pour himself a whiskey.
< Cat’s out of the bag, Y/N knows about the hotel. Gonna take her there tomorrow.
Dean sips his drink as he sends the text to Sam, and then texts Cas to ask him to make sure his jet is ready for a trip to London in the morning. Cas wasn’t meant to really work for Dean anymore, but asking him to do things had become a habit Dean never kicked, and Cas always got it done. Dean isn’t sure if Sam knows or not, but he’s pretty sure Sam wouldn’t care. The confirmation from Cas that he’ll get it sorted comes before his brother’s reply, and Dean takes a seat on the couch and lounges back.
> Need to get out of the office, don’t mind a third wheel do you?
Dean purses his lips for a second. Part of him had been looking forward to taking Y/N alone and giving her her gift. But, then he thinks of how Sam and Y/N had been making progress in getting back to normal, and how little she gets to see her Uncle. They used to be so close, and he doesn’t want them to drift apart. Sam and Y/N are all Dean’s got, and he needs them to get along. He can’t be caught between them the rest of their lives. He doesn’t want to ever have to pick Y/N over Sam, but he will if he ever needs to. Dean finishes his drink and sighs, typing out his reply.
< Of course not
He attaches the address and then looks down at his empty glass, forgetting he’d drunk it all, before getting up. His eyes are heavy and he can’t wait to finally sleep now the weight is off his chest. He yawns heavily as he places his glass down on the coffee table and then makes his way back into the bedroom. The sheet is barely covering Y/N’s naked body as she lays on her front, and Dean strips out of his sweatpants and climbs in beside her. She disturbs for a moment, and instantly moves to lay her head on his chest and wrap her arm around his waist. Dean holds her close and kisses her forehead, and it’s barely a minute before he’s asleep with her.
“Well wherever it is, we’re flying,” Y/N points out excitedly as the car pulls into the airport.
“You’re so clever,” Dean smirks, and Y/N looks over at him, glaring playfully as she squeezes the hand of his that she’s holding tightly. Dean chuckles and watches as she looks out the window once more.
“Are you gonna tell me yet?” she asks.
“Nope, gonna see if you can guess as we land,” Dean teases. She pouts playfully, and Dean can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.
“Don’t be mean, Daddy, just tell me,” she whines.
“It’s called a surprise for a reason, baby girl,” he chortles. Y/N’s hand slips out of his, her hand landing on his thigh as she moves it across to his crotch and finds his cock through his pants.
Now Dean’s had a decent night’s sleep, his body is finally playing ball, and he’s been a little pent up all morning, wishing he’d have been able to see it through last night like Y/N had wanted so desperately. But apparently, her labido is getting back to the way it was before the kidnapping, because she’s already looking for more. Dean has missed her not being able to keep her hands off of him, like he can barely keep his off of her.
“You think you can convince me to talk?” Dean asks, his voice slightly breathier than he’d hoped. His cock is fairly hard now, and he glances at the driver to see that the partition is up. They’re getting closer to the jet though, so he’s gonna have to keep his composure somehow. Or maybe he can fuck her here in the backseat of the car on the tarmac before they board.
Y/N smirks ever so slightly and giggles under her breath, and then her hand slips away.
“If you can tease then so can I.” Dean wants to protest, but the look of triumph on Y/N’s face is almost cute. He can’t wait to get her back for this. The car stops, and she doesn’t even give him a chance to suggest that they wait a little before boarding, because she’s stepping out of the car and leaving Dean to push his hand into his pocket and rearrange his erection so no one else will notice it.
They’re almost halfway there now. Less than an hour left before landing, and Y/N slides closer to him on the couch, causing Dean to glance around to see if any of the air hostesses are looking. Whilst Dean has been careful in Paris to ensure no one that works for him knows his real relationship with Y/N, he’s still not sure he wants them seeing his baby girl like this. He’d never cared about the other girls he fucked, but he wants Y/N to keep her dignity. There’s no one around right now though, so he lets Y/N press herself against him tighter, her hand slipping up his thigh like it had done in the car.
“You’re playing with fire, baby girl, right here where anyone can walk in on us?” he asks her quietly. Y/N chuckles softly under her breath, her hand sliding higher.
“You mean you don’t want them to see your baby girl bouncing up and down on your cock in the middle of the jet while we’re forty thousand feet in the air?” she asks innocently, “don’t want them to hear me screaming for my Daddy to make me cum on his thick cock?” Her hand rubs over his cock now, and Dean swallows hard, feeling himself getting painfully aroused. Jesus, he’d love nothing more than to subject every person on this jet to the sounds of pleasure he can rip from her perfect body.
“You know, we’ve flown together several times now, but you’ve never welcomed me to the mile high club,” she comments, “how many other girls did you let join?” Dean looks over at her, but it’s like she’s no longer dirty talking, there’s something in her eyes that tells Dean she’s asking a genuine question. Dean licks his lips and turns his face to Y/N’s completely, gripping the back of her head and bringing their lips closer together.
“I couldn’t give a fuck if people saw me with those sluts,” he starts to explain, “but you’re special sweetheart, don’t wanna share you with anyone else, not even for a second. You’re mine, got that?” he asks, gripping the back of her neck a little tighter. Y/N gasps for air, and then her bottom lip shakes and she bites it softly, nodding her head. “So when we get to that new hotel of yours, you better believe we’re christening the bed in the penthouse suite.” Dean places a chaste kiss to her lips and then pulls back. Y/N instantly looks away, and Dean assumes she’s flustered, a small smirk gracing his lips.
Y/N is quiet for the remainder of the journey, and when they touch down, she quickly realises where they are. It’s mild, not that Dean’s surprised for London, and it looks like it might rain, but Y/N seems to be in her element.
“We’re in England?” she checks for the third time. The driver that meets them has a British accent that Y/N loves, and she giggles when he calls her Miss. “They drive on the other side,” Y/N notes as she watches the driver put up the partition. Dean smiles softly, watching her eyes take everything in. “I’ve always wanted to come to England,” she tells him.
“Well, now you’ve got an excuse to come here whenever you want,” Dean tells her.
“Where in England is the hotel?” she wonders eagerly.
“You think I’d buy you a hotel in England and not have it in the capital?” Dean asks.
“London?” she checks, even more excited.
Dean nods, watching fondly as she beams at him, and throws herself forward to kiss him.
“I love you, you’re the best Daddy ever!” she squeals. Dean laughs softly, watching her turn to the window and take everything in as they get closer and closer to the hotel in question. Dean loves seeing Y/N this excited and happy. He should’ve done this a long time ago. Hell, even taking her somewhere other than Paris or home to Kansas probably would’ve been good for her. Dean had thought keeping them in Paris, in one place and stable, would’ve been good for her, but seeing her like this now, he wants to travel the world with her just to see this same look of wonder on her face. When they arrive, the driver opens the door and Y/N thanks him in what Dean can only assume is her attempt at a British accent, which makes him laugh.
She bites her bottom lip as she tips her head back and stares up the tall building.
“This is it? This is mine?” she asks, near enough bouncing on the spot. Dean chuckles and nods his head.
“All yours baby girl,” he confirms. Once again, Y/N throws her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately right there in the busy street. Dean doesn’t mind, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back.
“Can we go inside?” she asks next when they break away.
“No, I thought we’d just stare at it from the outside,” Dean jokes, making her shove him playfully. He nods his head towards the revolving doors and Y/N squeals before stepping forward and making her way inside. Dean follows close behind, the receptionist smiling politely at them as they enter.
“How can I help, Sir?” she asks softly.
“Just the penthouse suite key please, sweetheart,” Dean smiles widely, resting his arm on the countertop. He’s been here a few times now, but he’s never seen this girl before. Blonde with brown eyes. Pretty, the type he might’ve gone for before.
Dean doesn’t miss the way that Y/N looks at her, and he knows her well enough to know that she’s probably jealous. Not that she has any real reason to be. He straightens up a little, creating a little more space between himself and the blonde, as the woman in question frowns for a moment or two and then seems to register what’s going on.
“Mr. Winchester,” she swallows, “of course.” She fumbles around at the desk and then hands him over a card. “If there’s absolutely anything I can do for you, please let me know right away,” she offers, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.
“Sure, thanks,” he smiles politely and then wraps his arm around Y/N and guides her to the elevator.
“Yeah, bet there’s something she wants to do for you,” Y/N mumbles under her breath.
“Behave,” Dean chuckles quietly.
“Tell her that, she was basically fucking you with her eyes. Slut.”
The elevator doors open and Y/N steps in, a frown tugging on her face. Dean steps in beside her, reaching to press the button to close the doors quicker.
“Well she can look all she wants,” Dean notes, stalking over to Y/N and towering over her. “But she’s not the one I’m gonna bury my cock in as soon as we get into the room.” Y/N squirms in her place and then whimpers softly, and Dean kisses her passionately, letting their tongues explore each other’s mouths. Dean knows from his previous visits that this elevator opens straight into the penthouse suite, so he doesn’t stop kissing her when the doors ping open.
Instead, he blindly guides them into the room, feeling Y/N reach up to start unbuttoning his shirt.
“Someone’s eager,” Dean notes breathlessly against her lips. Y/N laughs against them and then reaches for her own blouse, starting to unbutton it.
“You said you were gonna bury your cock in me as soon as we got into the room,” Y/N reminds him, her hand rubbing down his front and cupping over his already hard cock. “Or were you just trying to impress me?”
“No, I fucking meant it baby girl,” Dean growls. He pulls her closer and then hears a sound further in the room.
“You might wanna hold that thought.” Dean and Y/N break apart quickly and Dean sees Sam standing by the couch.
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean gasps for air, reaching up to immediately rebutton his shirt. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “Thought you were coming later.”
“Change of plans, sorry if that’s urm – sorry for interrupting,” he concludes a little awkwardly, looking between Dean and Y/N. Dean clears his throat, his heart rate only just getting back down to normal. At least Sam knows about them, so that’s something.
“No, no not at all,” Dean insists, “we’re happy to have you here.”
I dont understand how wincesties fight tooth and nail that Dean is straight and then spend 40 hours editing a picture to make it look like he's kissing his BROTHER. they're INSANE.
#supernatural#SPN#dean winchester#Sam Winchester #do these people not have siblings??? I genuinely don't understand their thought process #DEANCAS #wincest is so disgusting and the worst thing on the internet I think. #did I really post for the first time in months after being scarred by multiple secret wincest accounts on twitter dot com???? unfortunately
Dean knelt quietly besides Sam while he sat on the throne. Dean had to bit back a soft whimper as Sam forced his fingers into his mouth. There were plenty of other things Sam could have put into Dean’s mouth to keep him quiet, but Dean’s learned not to speak out of term with Sam. Only speak when spoken to.
He had to bit back another whimper as Sam withdrew his fingers. Dean’s green hues turned to look at Crowley before looking back up at his brother. Normally Dean would be rather bothered by someone other then Sam seeing him in such a vulnerable position, but whatever Sam was doing had knocked that right out of him.
Dean almost let out a growl when Crowley called Sam moose, but he was told to be quiet so quiet he remained.
He was a feeling a bit cocky at how this was making Crowley feel. Green hues almost darkened to a whole darker shade of green as Sam spoke to him.
“Of course My King.” Dean murmured, pressing a feverish kiss against Sam’s finger tips. “Anything for you.”
Dean’s newly discovered submissive side was addictive. Sam loved seeing him kneeling down besides his throne, his fingers throatdeep in his mouth, sucking and slurping at them. That little whimper, which always escaped Dean, when Sam put his fingers back in or removed them also added a certain thrill to this all. As did Crowley’s mortified face at the whole display.
It was almost hilarious. Sam and Dean were indulging in a very specific type of sin and depravity and even for a much older demon in Hell, this was a touch too much. His past self no doubt would have equally recoiled and quivered from what Sam was doing right now. And even though there was a part in his psyche, whispering how wrong this all was, Sam had learned to shut that out. It was a way to have his brother back. And it was a way to corrupt his soul. Sam would be a fool not to use it.
“Good boy”, Sam crooned as he watched Dean pamper his fingertips with kisses. He barely registered Crowley, taking his rather hasty leave. Though he did notice the fast pace of his steps and the repeated bowing. Sam smirked and whispered: “Boy, did we show it to him, didn’t we, Dean?” Sam caressed Dean’s cheeks with his hands. Leaning his brother’s head up, he pressed a kiss against his lips.
#theoneswithoutpacks #short story: casual rp #youre just an accent in a pantsuit what can you do to me: sam winchester interaction #pie obsessed hunter: dean winchester #v. stole my only dignity (sam winchester) #ive had you since you are new you are not going to burn: queue
#HOLD ON but their relationship is EVERYTHING #they loved each other more than anything in the world #and as we have seen #they were willing to sacrifice the preservation of the world to save each other #it’s always been a story about two brothers on the road #sam winchester#dean winchester#samdean#spn edit#my edit#spn
Preword: OK???? So i think I did a thing. This started off as me doing a little rant post but somehow now it’s a fanfictio? oops.
anyways this is going to be a multichapter fic (I’ve never been able to follow through on this before, so we’ll see how this goes.
also should I make an ao3 account and post there?
So anyways, just thinking once again about how much Sam must have stuck out at like literally any school he went to.
I mean, maybe not so blatantly, but the few that he gets assigned to sit next to in class or some kids that feel like making a friend in him, they get to know him beyond the reserved, smart, friendly but guarded kid they see at school.
In high school, the differences become more prominent.
Sam is invited to an end of school rager his freshman year. He’s new to this type of shit, but when it comes time for the drinking games, he decides to join in.
Sam downs 9 shots straight in a row standing one foot on the barstool the host brought out.
The previous record was 5.
When he’s hopped off and done, impaired only by a slight stumble, the classmates sober enough to process it are looking on in disbelief, a bit of awe mixed in- but as always, he can see if in their eyes.
god, this kid is some kind of freak.
of course, they don’t realize that he’s been drinking on a regular basis since he was eleven.
Four months later in a different town, this time the trio tracking down a potential witch coven, Sam goes to get a drink during lunch period, a group of other sophomores loitering by the water fountains and in a world of their own. Sam had approached their spot to refill his water bottle, and glanced down into the lap of one of the guys’ lap (Cameron, he later found out). He was reading a book on montana history, and happened to be flipped to a page on the beartooth highway. Sam had been there once when he was about eight or so, when dad had taken him and dean scoping out the area for remains of a woman who had slipped off of the edge after a truck had edged her off, and remained to kill similar drivers.
“Hey,” Sam spoke to the guy, and he looked up expectantly at him.
“Uh,” Sam crouched down next to him, hoping this wouldn’t be awkward. “Y’know, what they don’t tell you is that there’s a small grouping of forts in the forest around mile 36.”
Sam should know. He built them.
“It’s pretty cool,” he said, giving an awkward grin. And it was cool. Sam had had a lot of downtime on that hunt, and hey, a kid had to occupy himself somehow.
He’d built them out of spare sticks he found, bark, some old rusted sheets of metal from the past crashes (even though John had told him not to go fucking around back there, lest Sophie-the-spirit decided to make a reappearance), and whatever spare tarp he could grab from bubmbling passerby campers.
They were wobbly and barren, teetering on its weak stick side supports, but for a week, it was Sam’s escape, where he could pretend that he was a normal kid in a normal neighborhood, in a clubhouse that his dad had made for him and his brother to spend time on while their dad was away at his normal, 9 to 5 job. Not a shitty stack of crap he used to escape his dad who was constantly in a foul mood, in the middle of god-knows-fucking-where, Montana.
Meanwhile the guy just looked up, a blink of intrigue in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Sam gave another half-smile.
He stood up from the ground, his other girl friend with the dark brown bob and sideswept bangs giving a small wave from the grimy tiled floor.
“I’m Joline,” she greeted, extending a hand.
Sam shook it.
She nudged the girl next to her, who wore athletic shorts, a hoodie, and her thick black hair in a messy bun.
“This is Maria,” bun girl gave a small nod, which said hey, I don’t know you just yet, but I think we’ve got something to work with here.
“I’m Cameron,” floor guy supplied before Joline could beat him to it.
“You new around here? I don’t recall seeing you before.” Cameron asked, brows furrowed and eyes squinted a bit as if that would unlock any memory of meeting Sam before in his brain.
“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “My dad moves us around a lot. We just got here Saturday.”
“Oh, I guess you’ve seen a lot of different places then.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said, voice guarded.
Joline ignored the first half of what he said.
“Saturday? Oh jeez, I bet you barley know anything about Burkesville-,”
She was wrong. Researching witches meant a lot of traveling around and interviewing, and gossip, grits, and dirty laundry was often included in that deal.
“-we totally have to take you out and show you around then. Tuesday night work?”
Maria nudged Joline. “I’ve got volleyball practice tomorrow, remember?”
“Oh,” Joline scrunched up her nose. “Damn volleyball. Wednesday then?”
Sam went for the awkward nod and afterthought smile combo. “Sure. Uh, see you guys, I’ve got to get to class.”
Cameron gave a short nod. “See you dude.”
With that, Sam walked to Chemistry.
Two periods later he has Spanish with Maria and she slips him a note telling him to meet at the 7/11 on Marsh street at 6:00.
He pockets the note for later.
Joline scratches her wrist impatiently, shiny green watch band doing nothing helpful except to itch the hell out of her. She needs a new one.
She’s standing underneath the neon 7/11 sign, Cameron beside her, watching the cars go by.
It’s about seven more minutes before Maria finally makes it to the parking lot to sit and wait for the last member of their small little party.
Maria is standing, arms crossed, looking particularly concerned. It was then 6:12, and Sam was still a no-show.
“Listen.” Maria bites her lip and faces towards the two. “My mama is cooking tamales tonight, so if he doesn’t show soon, I think I’ll just go home and eat there. I’m getting tired of waiting and hungry.”
Joline frowns, but nods her head in understanding nonetheless. Prospects aren’t looking great right now. Not even a minute later though, there’s the obnoxious growl of a gas-guzzler car, and Cameron perks his head up to try and catch a glimpse down the road. He lets out an appreciative whistle as he makes out that it’s a Chevy impala, then a soft ‘holy shit’ as the car turns into their parking lot.
“Dude!” He exclaims at Sam as he pops the passenger side door and stands up. “You have a fucking 1967 Chevy Impala and you didn’t tell me?”
Fucking car nerd.
Inside the sleek black vintage, a man, the driver, holds his hand out for a fist bump that
“Not Sammy,” he says, letting out a playboy smirk. “Yours truly, Dean Winchester.”
He’s cocky enough to even wink.
Sam just rolls his eyes in exasperation as he walks around the car and towards Maria and Joline. He mumbles a hey, and apologizes for his tardiness.
“He’s 20 now, but me, my dad, and him are still living out of each other’s pockets. It’s impossible for him to be on time”
Joline smiled politely, but something about what Sam had said made her take a moment and process. The lack of a mother, the nomad lifestyle- it was just a life so far from what she led, she had a hard time wrapping her head about what that would be like.
thanks for sticking around I geuss! This is actually the second spn fanfic I’ve wrote (I guess I can post the other here as well!)
Dean thought he had picked the perfect time window. John had been gone for two hours already, following the lead that brought them here, so Dean could be sure he wouldn't be back because he had forgotten something.
The case supposedly involved a witch, which were always hard to track down, so John should be on it for at least the whole night.
Stew, the motel clerk was already waiting for Dean outside his office, the top three buttons of his cheap blue shirt popped open and his hip cocked out.
It was going to be a good evening alright...
Dean stumbled out of the office's back room about fifty minutes later, grinning and huffing.
Within those fifty minutes a very pissed off John had returned from following a lead that was already dead.
Appearently John had gotten some misinformation from his hunter friend Marv, who would have to pay in whiskey for that later.
When John opened the door to their motel room he found only Sam, nose in a book, naked feet propped up on the table.
To the question where the hell his brother was Sam had just shrugged and mumbled "out", so he was the one who had to do some calming weapon cleaning with his father, before John punched a hole in the wall out of sheer frustration.
When Dean got back, his hook up, who insisted on accompanying him, pressed him against the door to get in one last filthy kiss, while Dean turned the knob and started to get inside backwards.
Stew caught a glimpse of stone faced older dude with a colt in his hand, behind him a kid cleaning a dismantled taurus, called it a night and sprinted back to his office.
Dean, having turned around now, stared at John completely frozen.
John stared back, frowning angrily, then grunted:
Dean looked confused for a moment.
"For what? STDs?"
John sighed exasperatedly.
"No you absolute moron. What do you think I taught you to use a fucking rubber for? Tested for demonic possesion, for being a werewolf, a shifter, a vamp, you idiot!"
That was when Dean decided to get himself a silver cock piercing.
Ok but whenever an abuser apologizes or "makes things right" with someone OTHER than the person abused it makes me angry.
Like why is the big apology, making things right scene in supernatural between John and Sam when Dean was the one who was mostly abused? Yes he should apologize to Sam in some ways, but Sam being apologized to doesn't fix the years of abuse Dean lived through?
Like I don't understand how him apologizing to Sam fixed everything for Sam. Like where was the "thanks dad! But, y'know, you weren't there for me and yelled at me a lot but you also forced Dean to be my parent and kicked him out of the house when he disagreed with you. Maybe you should apologize to him too!"
But no, Sam and John made up so everything is good and all is forgiven because Dean is just a perfect little soldier - no hurt feelings there. He was just doing his job.
Sam being a witch and animals are naturally drawn to him, and everyone thinks he has a stereotypical "witch pet" like a cat or raven or something but Sam shoes up with a tiny frog that sits on his neck or that he holds in his palm and it hops around everywhere Sam goes