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yourmomxx · 1 year

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Father of Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,2k

a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!

flashbacks are written in italics

pt1 pt2 pt3

Cleveland, Ohio 2002

The bar was crowded with people.

Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.

In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.

♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪

On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.

Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.

And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.

But whatever.

His Dad could kiss his ass.

♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪

“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.

Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.

Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.

He moved his gaze up and down her body.

Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.

Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.

A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.

He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”

He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.

“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.

“What’s yours?”

Dean Winchester.

But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.

“Dean Hansley.”

Gloria smiled again.

What a nice smile she had.

"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."

And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.

And he talked back with her.

And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.

By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.

The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.

A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.

♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪

Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.

And damn, that girl had high tolerance.

Dean thought she was amazing.

“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.

Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?

It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.

Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.

“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.

Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.

He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.

Dean threw a look around.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.

Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.

“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”

♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪

Hell yeah.

A boyish grin started forming on his face.

“An offer like that - how could I say no?”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

“Read it again for me.”

Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.

Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.

They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.

“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.

“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”

Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.

“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”

He shuddered.

“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.

“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”

He was quick to cut himself off.

Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.

“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.

“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”

Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.

And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.

“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”

Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.

Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.

“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.

Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.

“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Black Hawk, Colorado 2002

“To listen to this voicemail, call-”

A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.

“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.

“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.

“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”

“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”

A tone.

“Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to this voicema-”

The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.

“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”

She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”

“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to th-”

“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”

This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.

“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.

“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”

“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”

John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.

“You have no more voicemails.”

That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.

“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.

“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”

Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”

John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.

Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.

Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.

Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.

They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.

Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.

Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.

In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.

Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.

“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.

“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”

Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.

The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.

With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.

It seemed cozy.

They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.

Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.

There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.

Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.

When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.

“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.

“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.

��I never thought I would see you two again.”

Dean felt a sting in his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.

Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”

She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”

A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.

Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”

She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.

“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”

While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.

“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.

“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.

“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”

Sam swallowed hard.

“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”

Or for any person, really.

She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”

Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.

“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”

She sniffled.

Oh dear God.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.

“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”

She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”

She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.

“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”

“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.

And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”

She forced herself to a smile.

“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”

Dean forbid himself a snort.

“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.

He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.

Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.

“Dean.”

He turned to face her.

“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”

Dean straightened his shoulders.

“Yes, I know.”

“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”

“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”

She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.

“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”

“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”

She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Lewiston, Michigan 2004

The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.

The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.

The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.

In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:

24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind

No. God, no.

He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.

R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.

There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.

John slammed the newspaper on the round table.

“Damn it!” He yelled.

And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.

—

He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.

He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.

Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.

—

Central Nebraska

To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.

She was furious.

John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.

It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.

The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.

“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.

“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.

“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.

“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.

John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.

“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”

“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.

“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.

“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”

John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?

But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.

“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.

“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”

A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.

“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”

Agreeing and empathizing with her.

“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”

Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.

“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.

“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”

Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.

“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”

There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.

Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-

But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.

No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.

“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”

Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.

Hopefully.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.

In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.

Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.

Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.

When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.

Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.

“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.

The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.

Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.

They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.

Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.

The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.

“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”

The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”

Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’

“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”

Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.

“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.

“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”

“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”

Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.

“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”

“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.

“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.

Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.

The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.

“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.

She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.

Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.

“What do you mean?”

Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”

Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.

“So, where to now?” He asked instead.

Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

They made their way out of the castle.

“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.

“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”

Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2006

Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.

When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.

“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.

Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.

The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.

The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.

Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.

Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.

Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.

Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.

Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”

“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.

In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.

Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.

And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.

Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.

“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.

The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.

He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.

The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”

There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.

The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.

—

A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.

The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.

Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.

“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.

Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.

“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“

There it was.

Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean looked away.

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.

“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.

“It’s alright. We’re good.”

Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.

“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”

Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”

Is this lady for real-

“But he can.”

And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.

—

Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.

Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.

Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.

Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.

Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.

Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.

Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.

“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”

Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.

Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.

Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.

“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.

Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.

“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.

“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.

The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”

The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.

In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.

“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”

Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”

Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.

The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.

“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”

Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.

He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”

Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”

Y/N was beaming now.

She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.

“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.

The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.

“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.

“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”

Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.

“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.

“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.

Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.

Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.

“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”

Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.

Dean found himself slightly smiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.

“You love that kid.” It was a statement.

Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.

Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.

“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.

Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.

“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”

Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.

“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.

Y/N clutched her shirt.

“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.

He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”

Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.

Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.

“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.

Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?

“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”

Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.

“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.

Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.

“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”

The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.

“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.

“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.

“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.

He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”

Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”

Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?

His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.

“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.

He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.

“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.

“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”

She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.

“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”

Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.

Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”

Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.

“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.

She shook her head violently. “Never!”

Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.

“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”

“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.

“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.

He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.

“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.

And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.

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tricoufamily · 27 days

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playing this happy alternate universe save everything is fine nothing happens in the events of their real story it's fine this is canon this is fi

#anne is so beautiful i can't believe i made her.....#every random idle screenshot i have of her doing literally nothing like i was just in awe of her beauty djkflsjdfs #looney tunes scream when he walks up and autonomously grabs her hand #making up for the fact that she asked him twice in a row to feel the baby and he said NO>?????!??!??????! BOTH TIMES????#i didn't even know they COULD say no WHAT #i can see him for the first pregnancy being very hesitant to feel the baby like what if i break her this won't hurt her right #but this is baby 2 he has no excuse #and anne got bored while their daughter was trying to talk to her why are they bad parents when i leave them unattended for 5 seconds #she is very spoiled but that's ok. that's jared's princess ok when she wants something she knows who to ask she knows he can't say no to he #ts4 #jared #anne

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year

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Imagine...Tailgating With Your Family

Pairing: Jared x daughter!reader (with Uncle Jensen)

______

“Dad,” you groaned as he tugged you along through the parking lot. “Oh my God. Dad.”

“Am I embarrassing you?” he teased. “Come on, you used to love tailgating the games last year.”

“Well now I actually go to this college so you know, odds are I see someone I know,” you said.

“You want to sneak a beer while mom’s not looking or not?” he asked.

“Oh mom doesn’t care,” you said. “She says don’t be a dumbass is all.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll be on as good of a behavior as you are,” you said with a smile.

“Had to be a little smartie,” he mumbled, throwing his arm around you, pulling you into a noogie.

“Dad.”

“There’s some cute boys over there. Want me to say hi?” he laughed.

“I will murder you,” you said, your dad chuckling as he stopped at the back of the Ackles’ truck.

“Who we murdering?” asked Jensen, sipping on his beer from his lawn chair.

“Father. Potentially,” you said.

“You just let me know when and where, kiddo,” said Jensen.

“Dude,” said your dad, taking a beer out of the cooler.

“Eh, I’m joking. Mostly,” said Jensen, your dad rolling his eyes as he handed you a beer. “Oh. Look at the rebel.”

“Uncle Jay,” you said. “You literally gave me my first-“

“Ahhhhhh,” he said, Jared crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Your child is delusional.”

“Well I knew that,” said your dad, digging through the back of the truck and tossing some sunscreen at you.

“Dad.”

“Don’t complain when you get a sunburn then,” he said.

You groaned as he smirked, heading over to the grill close by.

“You do burn pretty easy, kiddo,” said Jensen.

“I know, I know,” you said, rubbing some cream into your skin. He stood up and got the back of your neck and shoulders where you’d missed a few spots. “Where are the kids?”

“Bathroom trip. You know that guy over there is checking you out,” he said.

“No he isn’t,” you said, cracking open your beer. You took a sip, Jensen chuckling as he walked over towards the grill. “Tell dad I want a hotdog please.”

“Mhm,” he said.

You felt a poke on your shoulder and you spun around, staring straight at Billy Dalton’s bare chest.

“Hey, Padalecki,” he said with a smirk.

“Hi,” you said, forcing your head to stay up and not at his shirtless chest.

“You mind if I borrow some of that sunscreen?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, handing over the tube.

“Thanks. I didn’t think you were much into football,” he said.

“My family’s always been super into UT football since we moved here,” you said.

“I thought you were local,” he said.

“I had an untraditional childhood,” you said with a smile. “But I’ve been here since middle school.”

“Me too. I was always too tiny to play football at my school if you can believe it,” he said.

“Really? I totally thought you were a jock...and that sounded so bad.”

“It’s cool, Padalecki. I played baseball and I got a 4 on my AP English test. Complete package right here,” he said.

“Seriously? No one in my school scored a 4,” you said.

“Life was very interesting being the dorky cool guy,” he said. “Trying to leave that behind now that we’re in college and all that.”

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Education. I’d like to be an English teacher though,” he said.

“My grandma was an English teacher,” you said.

“Seriously? That’s awesome,” he said.

“Hey, Y/N,” said your dad, wandering over with a smile and a hot dog for you. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Billy. He’s in my English 203 class,” you said.

“203, huh. You must be a reader then,” said your dad.

“Mhm,” you said, your dad still smiling at you. “Thanks.”

“Hey Billy. How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty.”

“Twenty and you’re a freshman?” asked your dad.

“I had to take a year off after high school. My dad was in a bad car accident over that Fourth of July that year. I stuck around home to help out,” he said.

“Well that’s a very selfless thing to do,” he said with a nod. “Y/N, you can go hang out with your friends if you want.”

“Mhm,” you said as he walked away. “Sorry about him. He likes to you know, be a dad and harass his children.”

“That’s cool. Mine’s the same way. Thanks for the sunscreen, Padalecki,” he said as he turned to go. “You uh, want to grab lunch after class Monday?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. See ya, Padalecki,” he said. You smiled and turned around, your dad and Jensen sipping on a beer at the back of the truck with shit eating grins. “What?”

“I smell a boyfriend incoming,” said Jensen.

“She knows what she’s doing,” said your dad with a smirk.

“I will tell mom and Aunt De what you two got up to last weekend unless we never discuss this again,” you said.

“How is she so scary for being so tiny,” said Jensen.

“I learned if from you two,” you laughed, throwing your head back. “Shit, I forgot to get the sunscreen back.”

“Take it from two previously twenty year old boys. He kept it on purpose,” said your dad.

“When was that? 300 B.C.?” you asked.

“Why don’t you go get back my sunscreen or I’ll tell your parents what you got up to last night,” said Jensen with a smirk.

“I thought you were staying over your friend Sara’s,” said your dad.

“Of course I did,” you said, shooting Jensen a look. He sipped on his beer and smiled.

“Oh yeah. Of course she did,” he said, knowing very well you called him and asked him for a ride and to crash in their guest room when you partied a little too hard the night before.

“I hate you both,” you groaned as you headed back towards where Billy was with his friends.

“Love you too, kiddo. Now hurry up. Game starts soon.”

_____

#supernatural #spn #jared x daughter!reader #jared fluff #au #rpf #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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that-wannabe-vangoghgurl · 2 months

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Tumblr although I think I know what most of you are gonna say but did you guys like the supernatural finale? Why or why not?

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sara78 · 3 months

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Family don't end in blood - Chapter 11

Summary: The summer break has officially started for Y/N and rest of the cast. What Y/N thought would be a bland summer quickly turns into fun, and some scary situations arise...

Word Count: 3489

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x daughter!reader

Warnings: A scary situation

A/N: Thanks for coming back to read more and sorry for the wait!

3rd person POV

"Honey, I've been doing some thinking," Danneel said, Jensen humming as he looked at her with a smirk, "Jensen, not that kind of thinking. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to that kind of thinking either," he said, Danneel smacking his chest playfully and a groan emerging from behind the couch, a disgusted look on Y/N's face,

"Just... Let me fill up my water bottle and I'll be outta here. Jared asked me to come over to help him with something so you'll have the house to yourself to do... Whatever... Ew," she made a disgusted face, Jensen laughing,

"It's normal, kiddo. Don't have to be ashamed of it."

"Yeah, I'll remind you of them last words of yours when a fourth Ackles comes into picture. Or fourth and fifth, given mom's history with twins," she said, Danneel falling into a laughing fit while Jensen rolled his eyes,

"First off, fifth Ackles," he said with a glare, making Y/N roll her eyes, "No rolling eyes and no twins. And second, there's protection, y'know?"

"Yeah, cause that always works out," she rolled her eyes, "I'll be over at the Padaleckis. Call if you need anything. Now... Just continue whatever you were doing," she made a fake gagging sound, leaving the house.

"She's got a sense of humor," Jensen said,

"Mhm. I particularly like the fact that she can roast the hell out of you," she smirked, "Now, that thinking you mentioned..."

"Oh, who's got their mind in the gutter now?"

Y/N's POV

"Moose!" you exclaimed as you caught a glimpse of a figure in the garage, sporting its usual dumb attire, a long sleeve, and some pants. It wouldn't be dumb if it were February, but it was July and at 9am you were already sweating your ass off. That's Texas, gotta love the heat. And it seems Jared particularly loves it as he hadn't thought of changing. He turned around, waving as you approached him, finally finding some shade in the garage,

"Munchkin!" he said with a smile, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you gently, which you returned,

"What's up?" she asked as she broke off the hug, "You broke some shit or did something bad? I gotta cover your ass from Gen?"

"No. I promised her to clean the garage and... Well... I need help," he sighed, "I didn't realize this much stuff was inside. Bad move to say I could do it by myself."

"Oooh, so you're aware you're getting old," you teased, Jared sending you a glare, "Alright alright, so you need help moving all this stuff?" you asked and he nod, "Why didn't you call dad-I mean Jensen?" Jared smiled, ruffling your hair,

"I told you not to hide from me, I ain't your dad and I ain't a snitch. I won't tell. Now, I was gonna call him too, but I figured he missed Dee."

"Yeah," you said, making a disgusted face, Jared laughing,

"That's completely normal kiddo."

"Whatever," you waved your hands in the air, "Where do we start?"

"I began over there," he pointed, "Maybe you go to the opposite end? We meet halfway?"

"You mean, I'll meet you somewhere in the corner of your pile," she said with a smirk, "Alright let's get to work."

"What are you gonna do this summer?" Jared asked, making you shrug your shoulders,

"Nothing," you said, lowering a box down,

"What do you mean nothing? It's summer! You don't have work, school. What did you do back in Y/H/C over the summer?"

"Hang out with friends, watch movies and TV shows. Read, play the guitar," you said, getting a hold of another box with a grunt, "I'm no fun."

"That's okay, you don't have to be partying every day to have fun," Jared said,

"Y/N!" Shep's voice called out, making you turn around and smile as the boy approached you and almost tackled you into a hug,

"Well hello to you to Shep. Now, who gave you permission to be almost as tall as me?"

"I did," Jared said with a proud, dorky smile on his face,

"Sure thing," you giggled, "How was basketball practice?"

"Good, it was really fun. Oh, we're playing on Thursday. Can you come to watch me?" he asked excitedly and you nod,

"I'll be there in the front row. He'll be in the back, he's way too tall for the front," you said, pointing at Jared and making Shep laugh, "Well your dad and I were just talking about summer break so, any other fun things you have going this summer?"

"I have nature and basketball camp," he said, "I'm super excited about that. And that's about it."

"You should join him in the nature camp munchkin," Jared hopped in, "It's really fun."

"I'm too old for that."

"We take in people of all age. There's some really old people at the camp," Shep said,

"Yeah? How old are we talking?" you asked,

"Like, daddy old," he said, pointing at Jared who made a pouty face while you were trying not to die of laughter,

"Okay kid I owe you ice cream for that one," you said as you calmed down from your laughing fit, "I'll-I'll see about the camp," you added, taking a deep breath, "Now go take a shower. You stink like your dad after moving a grand total of..." you turned around, counting the boxes, "Five. Five boxes," you said, looking at him, "You really are an old man."

"Told ya!" Shep called from the door before closing it,

"That kid," Jared huffed, "I'm no old man!"

"Okay okay," Sara giggled, the door to the garage opening,

"Now if I recall correctly, you said you could do it alone," Gen's voice rang as she approached you, "She's a plus one. Hi honey," she smiled at you, hugging you which you reciprocated,

"She barely even counts, look at how tiny she is!" Jared tried,

"This tiny thing here moved more boxes than you did. Plus, you had a head start of two, old man," you pointed out, making Jared roll his eyes,

"Old man? Where did that come from?"

"Shep."

"Shep!" Gen said surprised, "Damn, that kid is becoming witty!"

"He is," you said, giggling, "Come on, someone's pride is hurt," you nod at Jared and Gen rolled her eyes as she walked over to where he was and gave him a kiss,

"I love you," she said with a smile, "Despite you being so old," she added, Jared groaning as you giggled, "Kidding."

"Where are other kids?" you asked,

"Dot is with her aunt and Tom should be back after soccer practice. JJ's waiting for him to finish up. Now, you, what are your plans for the summer?"

“Y/N!” Tom’s voice exclaimed, making you turn around and wave at the two. You hugged Tom as he came closer, rolling your eyes at the fact that he’s as tall as you are despite being way younger than you,

"Jared and I were just talking about it. Nothing, really.”

"What do you mean, nothing? Don't Jensen and Danneel have some plans?"

"If they do, I'm not invited."

“Sup guys!” you said, smiling at JJ who nod at you, “How was soccer practice?”

“Was fun,” Tom said, “I gotta do some drills to practice a bit more.”

“Could you practice with us Y/N?” JJ asked, making you smile, “You helped me with my passes a lot. Maybe you’d want to help Tom too?”

“You play soccer?” Tom asked and you nod,

“I used to play when I was around your age. A thing or two stuck around,” you said, “Of course we can practice. How about after lunch?”

“Sounds good,” Tom said, “And… What’s dad doing?”

“Dead lifting,” Gen said as she giggled while looking at Jared, “And failing.”

“He’s not deadlifting, he's dying,” you added, making everyone laugh, “You two go inside, refresh. I’m taking you to ice cream when the twins come back from soccer and dance,” you said, watching as the two walked away,

“Well JJ warmed up to you a little,” Gen noticed,

“Yeah. Nothing much, really. She actually practiced with me only because Jensen talked her into it. She does say good morning to me. It’s progress though,” you sighed, “I’ll go help your old man so he doesn’t throw his back out,” you teased, Gen giggling,

“Alright. Jensen and Danneel are coming over for barbecue tonight, just so you know.”

“Oh, food, fun!” you said with a smile, Gen rolling her eyes as she walked back into the house through garage, “Sup, old man?” you said as you approached Jared who sent you a bitch face, “Don’t frown too much. You might throw a face muscle out,” you teased, Jared stopping and pulling his sleeves up playfully as you began running away from him, laughing.

3rd person POV

While Gen and Danneel were setting the tables for dinner later that day and Jensen was helping Jared smoke the meat and not eat any raw pieces in the process, Y/N was playing soccer with Tom, JJ, and Zepp. They did some drills for soccer, and she also showed Shep a few of those for basketball as well. Arrow and Odette were sitting on the side, probably plotting an end-of-the-world situation, as they usually do.

“Man, you ever thought of sending Y/N to soccer camp?” Jared said as the two looked at the kids playing, “You see her? She’s holding her own against Tom who’s as tall as her, and is even stronger than she is.”

“I mean, I’d love for her to do some sports,” Jensen said, “We do train together, but I can tell she loves soccer. Seems to enjoy it at least,” he said, “I can always offer it to her. It’s up to her if she’s gonna take it or not though,” he added,

“True. She’s also good with basketball, but I see she finds more joy in soccer,” Jared analyzed, “Now, you better tell me you have something planned for the summer that includes Y/N.”

“Everything that we planned for the summer includes Y/N, what are you on about?” Jensen asked confusedly,

“Well she mentioned today she’s probably not invited to whatever plans you might have, so I’m just making sure you haven’t lost your mind,” Jared said, “What is it?”

“Disney World,” Jensen smirked, “Dee planned the whole thing out. Too bad I said yes, she was gonna bring you if I didn’t want to go.”

“Take it back!” Jared exclaimed, pouting, “I wanna go too!”

“You got your own family doofus. Go figure it out,” Jensen teased, watching as Y/N approached them, talking to the kids as she was walking backwards towards them, “Stuff your face with that raw meat or I swear to God-“

“I hath been sent by the hungry tribe to ask when’s dinner gonna be done?” Y/N asked,

“Well if your uncle Jared doesn’t eat any of the remaining raw meat, it shall be done in about half an hour,” Jensen said with a smile, “Having fun?”

“Yep. Tom is really strong,” you said, “Barely keeping up with him. I think next time we come to Texas he might be taller than me.”

“That’s perks of being a Padalecki,” Jared smirked, “You like soccer, munchkin?”

“Yeah,” she said, “It’s fun. Lets me blow off some steam. Why?”

“You played when you were younger too, right?” Jensen said and she nod, “How does soccer camp sound to you?”

“I mean… I dunno,” she said, scratching her head, “I’m, like, too old. Too small. You should also be in a team to join, right?”

“Actually, no,” Jared said, “You gotta play a test match to determine your skills, but you don’t have to be in a club or to actively train in order to join. Everyone’s accepted. Now you might be placed with younger kids, but only because you’re smaller built than the kids your age.”

“I think I might be the first person they’ll turn down,” she giggled, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let the kids have fun.”

“But you’re a kid too,” Jensen frowned, “And you should have fun too. And this is obviously fun for you. Try it out.”

“You really think I could do well?” she asked, Jared rolling his eyes,

“Tom!” he exclaimed, Tom whipping around and running up to the three, “What do you think of Y/N as a soccer player?”

“She’s amazing!” he exclaimed happily, “My coach said I’m becoming real strong compared to my teammates, and I shouldn’t push with all I have all the time, but she’s holding up so well!”

“Do you think she’d make it to the camp?” Jensen asked and Tom’s face lit up as he looked at Y/N,

“You wanna join?”

“Your dad and uncle think I should,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “I’m not so sure though.”

“You’d do amazing!” he exclaimed, “Come on over tomorrow morning, when Zeppelin has practice. We do rounds for the camp then.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, nodding,

“Y/N! Tom!” Zeppelin exclaimed from behind, “Come on, I wanna practice shooting!”

“That’s our cue,” Y/N said, “Tag, you’re it,” she slapped Tom, running away as Tom began chasing her,

“Look at how fast she is!” Jared exclaimed, Jensen giggling,

“She overtook me a few times when we went running together back in Vancouver,” he said, “Embarassing to admit, but it is what it is,” he added, “I hope she tries out tomorrow morning. I’d love to see her have fun for once. She’s too wound up.”

“She’s scared, it’s normal,” Jared assured him, “Let’s just hope she tries out. Incoming, ten o’clock.”

“Have you eaten any more raw ribs, Jared?” Danneel asked as she approached, Jensen giggling as Jared rolled his eyes,

“Y’know that’s becoming old, right?”

“What? The fact that you ate raw ribs a couple months ago, again? Nope, not getting old, like, at all,” Jensen teased, “Honey, I got a question,” he said as Danneel sat in his lap,

“Yeah, what is it?”

“What do you think about Y/N joining the soccer camp with Zepp, J bird and Tom?”

“Oh, I’d love that!” she exclaimed happily, “I noticed she’s having fun. And when y’all finish filming, she can join their soccer team too. I think she’d blossom, to have some sports that isn’t overtaking her old dad when they go running,” she teased, Jensen rolling his eyes,

“Yeah yeah, you didn’t think I was old this morning,” he smirked, Jared making a fake gagging sound,

“That’s disgusting,” he said, handing Danneel the plate with meat, “Here ya go. We got just this to finish up and we’re done. Salads done?”

“Yes sir,” Danneel said, “Bring it over and then we need to wrestle kids into coming to eat.”

“I think they’ll be wrestling us for big pieces of meat when we call them,” Jensen pointed out, “They’ve been running all day straight. They’ll eat like Jared, just not raw meat.”

8 days later...

“Okay, you three sure you’ll be okay?” Danneel asked, making you roll your eyes,

“We’re gonna be fine mom, we got this,” you said,

“We’re gonna kick some ass!” Zeppelin exclaimed as he ran up to you, making Danneel gasp and Jensen snort,

“Zeppelin Bram Ackles, language!” Danneel said, making you giggle,

“English,” JJ added, everyone turning confused looks towards her, “Language. It’s English.”

“She’s got her humor down,” you said with a laugh,

“Just like her mom,” Danneel added, Jensen sending a bitch-face towards her,

“Okay guys, you have fun. Call if you need anything and we’ll see you in fifteen days on the games,” Jensen said, hugging JJ tightly, “Love you birdie,” he whispered while Zeppelin hugged Danneel and you stood back, watching them with a smile. As JJ ran off to find her friends, Jensen walked up to you and gave you a hug too, “My big girl,” he murmured, making you roll your eyes,

“Shut up I ain’t going to military,” you responded, Danneel laughing as he let you go, “Thanks for letting me go.”

“Thanks for trying something out of your comfort zone,” Danneel said, hugging you as Zeppelin jumped into Jensen’s arms, “Have fun out here. Don’t be a big sister all the time.”

“I’ll try,” you smiled, watching as they turned back around and walked to their car, driving off. Zeppelin tugged at your hand, grabbing your attention,

“Let’s go unpack and then we can eat!”

“You got an appetite of your dad, silly,” you giggled, grabbing your duffel, “Come on. Let’s figure this out.”

Six days later...

Okay, Jensen was totally right.

This camp was so much fun.

You haven’t made much friends, as a combination of you being an introvert and younger kids you were playing with who have other fun things to do, but you’ll lie if you said you didn’t enjoy all the games, drills, matches you played. And, of course, all the food.

JJ and Tom had made it into the mixed squad alongside you, so you had some extra work on top of regular stuff, but you didn’t mind. JJ wasn’t exactly ignoring you, but she wasn’t exactly happy to see you there either. You knew she was upset that you joined on the same boat as she did, and you knew she probably felt a little jealous because soccer in this league used to be just her thing. Maybe if they let you play with kids your age, she wouldn’t be as upset as she is. But you couldn’t go against the rules of the camp, and you certainly knew you couldn’t go against the kids that are as tall as Jensen, regardless of their gender.

The downtime you had usually consisted of reading and listening to music, occasionally taking a walk through the wooded area not far from the living area.

On the other hand, you were really happy to see Zeppelin make some friends and have a lot of fun, he settled very well, finding kids that loved legos and dinosaurs and all the little random things he did, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Of course, Jensen and Danneel texted daily, making sure everyone had everything they needed.

You were sitting on the window frame, the bedtime for little ones, including Zeppelin, had long passed. You were taking in some of the evening breeze when you saw a kid, no older than Zeppelin, approach you with another kid behind,

“Hey, are you Y/N, Zeppelin’s... sister?” he whispered, making you widen your eyes as you looked at the two boys,

“Yes, I am. What are you two doing outside? You’re crossing over the curfew.”

“Uh…” the kid scratched his head as he looked down,

“What happened? Is Zepp in trouble?” you asked as your heart picked up faster pace,

“We were playing truth or dare,” the other boy began, “And he got dared to go into the woods alone-“

“What?!” you whisper-yelled, turning around to look at all the other kids asleep, “Wait here,” you added, walking over to put your shoes on, grabbing your flashlight and your phone, and you walked back, jumping out the window, landing easily, “What direction did he go to?”

“Behind the dorms, there,” the other boy showed you,

“Okay, you two get back into your rooms and keep your butts still. If I don’t show up within an hour, go wake an adult up and tell them everything you told me. Tell them I have the phone on me and they can locate it. You understand me?”

“But-“

“No buts,” you said sternly, sneaking to their living area, “You already messed up enough by doing this stupid dare in the first place,” you said, “I can go wake someone up right now, but I’m willing to let y’all slide if I find my brother. Go. Inside.”

The two quietly jumped back up to their room through the window and you took off to the woods, swearing internally.

You had totally forgotten about her.

What if she’s here, what if she found you?

What if she took him?

He must be scared out of his mind to be with someone like her.

Of course you were gonna get happiness swept right beneath your feet.

You shouldn't have relaxed this easy, you shouldn't have let your guard down like this.

Even if he wasn’t taken, he’s still alone, in the dark woods.

There shouldn’t be any animals around, but you were scared for the kid nonetheless.

“Zeppelin?” you called out for what seemed to be the hundredth time since you stepped into the woods, you definitely lost track of time and you knew your legs are running on pure adrenaline as you knew how petrified you were. You could see her, clear as day, kicking the small boy you loved as if he's your blood. The sights in front of your eyes were at times so real and vivid that you had to slap your face to bring yourself back to reality.

Time was ticking and you couldn't find him. With every moment that passed, you were more and more assured that your mother took him. He's a smart kid and he's got hearing of a hawk. He'd have heard you calling him by now. You didn't know what to do first, you were calling out for him, praying to whatever there is to keep him safe, battling ugly scenarios in your head, until you snapped,

"Listen to me, you bitch," you called out into the open as you came to a stop, "I know you're here and I know you can hear me. Come out of your hidey hole, let him go and I'll come with you. It's time we put an end to this."

You were about to move further down the path but you heard something snap to your left.

A/N: A little cliffhanger never hurt nobody, right? ;D Now don't kill me @crasmuna, and everyone else, there's more to come ;D

#jensen ackles #supernatural #spn #jensen ackles fanfiction #jared padalecki #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles x daughter!reader

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sammysmaddy · 8 months

Text

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Eight

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Characters: John x Daughter!Reader, mentions of Sam x Sister!Reader, mentions of Dean x Sister!Reader

Chapter Warnings: dub con, incest, angst, manipulation, coercion, loss of virginity, p in v

W/C: 3.1k+

A/N: One more chapter you guys :,)

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

Daddy: Put some nice clothes on and pack a bag, we're going on a date tonight.

You couldn't help but choke on a sob as you read your phone. Your brain was hurting from crying so much. You tried desperately to understand Dean's anger and frustration with you.

You quickly got dressed after Dean left you alone in the motel room, wondering if you'd see him again later in the night or if he'd distract himself with a girl that wasn't you. It hurt to think about the latter.

You didn't understand why Dean was so upset with you or why he was upset with himself, it just didn't make any sense. What you were doing wasn't wrong. What was wrong with showing Dean how much you loved him?

Although it's true that you had never done anything like that with Dean before, you never would have taken it further if it weren't for that night of your first party.

He kissed you first. He used you first. He pleasured himself above your body before you had even thought to make an advance on him. Why was Dean suddenly changing his mind, and why was he calling it wrong?

You couldn't help but feel like Dean was lying to you because he felt guilty for some unknown reason.

Dean had told you that what you were doing with John was wrong, even what you were doing with Sammy. But you knew deep down that neither Sam nor your father had never hurt you before and that they never would.

Why would Dean ever suggest that anything was amiss?

You snapped out of your thoughts and picked at the skin on your hands, looking up as you heard the motel door open.

You had hoped to see Dean, to ask him all of your millions of questions, but Sam walked through the door. Sam's face dropped as he saw you sitting on the bed crying and immediately made his way over to you.

"Did Dean tell you?" Sam asked and you furrowed your eyebrows, growing confused.

You slowly nodded your head, sniffling, and Sam took a seat on the bed next to you. How would Sam already know what Dean 'told' you and what was there to tell? You had already assumed that Dean was lying.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm really really sorry. I just- I figured you knew already and that you were okay with it." Sam put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly and you tried your best to hide your confusion.

Already knew what?

Was Dean really being serious? Was what you were doing with Sam and John actually wrong? It still wasn't clicking in your brain, and you found yourself needing to know more.

"I wish you would have told me sooner," You suggested, hoping to pry some more information out of Sam.

"I thought Dad had told you, honestly, I did. I never would have let you come on to me if I knew," Sam gave you a half smile as the tears continued to flow down your face.

It still didn't make sense. John was the one who taught you everything about life, and now Sam and Dean were both telling you that he had kept a huge secret from you. John would never keep a secret from you. You were sure of it.

"I still don't get it, Sammy," You sighed, frowning as you looked over at him. "What's so wrong about it? It's just love. Daddy says it's normal."

"Dad lied to you," Sam stated simply, not expounding as your face turned to shock.

Why would John ever lie to you? It just wasn't in his nature. You knew he loved you more than anything.

"What's wrong with it?" You asked again and Sam's lip trembled before he bit it to keep it still. "Is it because I did it with you too? Daddy says he's the only man I can trust enough."

"Dad's sick, Y/N. He manipulated you into thinking it was okay to do those things with him when it's not, you're not supposed to do that stuff with your family." Sam tried his best to explain and you tried your best to understand.

"Why not?" You pried and Sam sighed before taking a long moment to think.

"He's supposed to take care of you: Feed you, shelter you, buy you clothes. He's not supposed to want sex from you and you're not supposed to want sex with him. No father should want to have sex with his daughter. It's incest." Sam continued to explain and you shook your head, trying your best to understand.

"Then why did you let me come on to you?" You asked and Sam scrubbed his face with his palm whilst taking a deep inhale.

"I thought you didn't care about right or wrong. I thought you knew we weren't supposed to do those things together, but you still wanted to." Sam frowned and you followed suit.

"But I did want to do those things with you," You mentioned quietly, tears streaming down your face.

"But you didn't understand how wrong it was," Sam held your hand but you yanked it out of his grasp.

"I don't get it, Sammy. I'm really trying," You sniffled to yourself, feeling your eyes well with even more tears.

"It's okay, Y/N. You didn't know, and Dean and I are going to make sure Dad gets what he deserves, okay? We're not going to let him hurt you anymore." Sam said and you furrowed your eyebrows as you grew even more confused.

"He wasn't hurting me, Sam. He must have just forgotten to tell me," You shook your head, trying to fit all the pieces together.

"No, he didn't tell you on purpose so that you would want to have sex with him. He was abusing you."

"Why would he do that?" You sobbed.

John was the one man on Earth who you were supposed to trust. Even more than you were meant to trust Sam and Dean. The pieces weren't fitting together.

"Because he's sick in the head. And I guess I am too. It's not natural. I'm just happy that Dean found out before it went any further." Sam half-smiled again and you looked down at your lap, a strange sense of shame attached to your conscious.

You felt embarrassed that you were so easily taken advantage of. You felt embarrassed that you didn't know. But above all, you felt angry.

You weren't sure if you were angry with yourself for not knowing that it was 'wrong', if you were angry because Sam and Dean suddenly had a change of heart and it made you feel unwanted, or if you were angry because John had never mentioned it to you.

John had taught you everything there was to know about life. He taught you how to bathe, how to shoot a gun, and how to cook breakfast.

John did everything you thought a good father did- you thought that being a good father also included sex with their daughter.

It hurt your heart to know that he was only using you.

"Does that mean we can't do it together anymore?" You asked, hoping Sam would give you the answer that you wanted.

"I don't know, Y/N," Sam flattened his lips, looking sadder by the second. "I just know that Dad needs to pay for what he's done to you. He is the reason all of this is happening. It's not your fault."

"But what if I don't want to stop?" You asked.

You didn't want to lose the relationship that you had with each of your family members. You didn't want John to pay, you wanted to continue loving him in the only way you knew how.

"Then, that's up to you. I don't know if I can go on knowing the things I know now. It makes me feel sick." Sam frowned, looking down at his lap.

"Oh," Was all that came out as your heart tore into a million pieces.

beep boop beep boop

Your anxiety only rose as the date with John went on further because you knew what would follow afterward.

Sam had fallen asleep early and your father had asked you to meet him outside before the both of you left. A part of you felt guilty for not telling Sam where you were going, but you knew that Sam would not have been okay with it.

As much as how Sam felt about the situation was completely valid and you desperately wanted to let Sam protect you from John, the thought of your father's disappointment was more dominant.

You managed to make conversation at dinner and you found yourself falling into your ways. Your heart had longed for this night for so long that it felt wrong to not see it through until the end.

In addition to your longing for this night, you still loved your father more than anyone in the world. Now more confused than ever, you battled internally between asking John for the truth and giving in to your own desires.

As John kissed your neck, sprawled over the top of you, you couldn't stop replaying your interaction with Dean earlier.

Was Dean lying to you? You tried your best to come up with alternate explanations for his behavior but nothing ever made sense. Was he just jealous? Did he want you all to himself? Did he figure out that he didn't want you in that way after he fingered you?

The only thing that seemed to make sense, in addition to your conversation with Sam, was that Dean was telling the truth. It was eating at you as you began to feel slightly disgusted by John's large body on top of yours.

"How are you feeling, baby?" John smiled as he came up for air, pushing the hair out of your face.

"Good," You lied, giving him a small smile.

"Good," John chuckled in return, placing his lips on yours for a slow, lingering kiss.

You found it hard to kiss him back as a million more questions popped into your head.

Was it bad that you wanted to stop? Would you disappoint John? And what would he do in response?

You didn't want to know the answer to any of those questions so you stayed silent as John took his shirt off.

"Get undressed for me, darling," John didn't seem to pick up on your uneasiness.

You hesitated for a moment, watching as John began to take his pants off, but ultimately decided to sit up and take your shirt off.

John looked back at you smirking, and you felt chills run down your spine. You decided to stop undressing as you waited for John to notice how uncomfortable you felt.

"Need help?" John asked, slowly walking toward you.

John yanked your ankles, your back hitting the bed as he slid you toward the end. His hand then traveled up your legs, dipping underneath your skirt to rest on your thighs.

"Daddy?" You asked timidly.

"Yes, baby?" He responded, pulling your panties down your legs before looking back up at you.

You weren't even sure what you were going to say, but you knew that you wanted to stop. You no longer cared if it upset John.

"I don't know if I'm ready," You managed to utter, propping yourself up on your elbows as you held your legs shut.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You know Daddy will take his time with you. I'm always very careful with my little girl." John pushed your skirt up your legs and your hands instinctively pushed the fabric back down. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," You weren't sure what to say.

You didn't want to out Sam or Dean for telling you because you weren't even sure if they were telling the truth, but you didn't know how to tell John that you no longer wanted to have sex with him.

"Don't get cold feet with me now, darling. Daddy really wants to fuck his little girl." John chuckled, palming his erection through his boxers.

You swallowed as John began to push the cotton down his legs, revealing his incredibly large member. You shuddered at the thought of it entering inside of you, even more scared of the fact that there was a possibility that John would be taking advantage of you.

When John's hands began to spread your legs, your body fought with little resistance. He pulled you so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed and rested his cock over your heat, groaning as he slowly thrust his hips.

"It's okay, baby. Daddy loves you and he wants to take care of you. Can you let Daddy take care of you?" John leaned over you, reaching underneath your body to unclasp your bra.

John pulled the cloth off of your chest with ease, letting out a growl as his large hands palmed at your breasts.

You felt your throat constrict as your tear ducts began to fill, not sure how to tell your father how you were feeling. John didn't seem to notice as he bent over to kiss your lips.

Paralyzed with fear, you couldn't bring yourself to return his kiss and after a few seconds, John pulled back.

"I'm really trying here, sweetheart. I can't make you feel good if you don't want me to, and I know that's not the case." John chuckled awkwardly as he pulled back, his face hovering a few inches above yours.

"Is it wrong?" You choked on a sob as the tears began to stream down your face.

"What?" John reacted instantly, his body tensing as his eyebrows furrowed. "Who told you that this was wrong?"

"Nobody," You said quietly, looking up at him with blurred vision as your tears continued to fall.

"I don't know what you're talking about, baby. This is meant to be. This is why God let me have you." John stroked a few stray hairs out of your face, rutting his hips a bit as his cock slid up and down your slit. "See how good you make Daddy feel? Daddy wants to do the same for you and he doesn't know how much longer he can wait."

You stared at him silently, your lips quivering as you tried to think of what to say. Your body shivered as John began to align himself with your entrance, poking into you ever so slightly.

"Just let me take care of you, baby. Try to enjoy it, okay?" John did his best to be reassuring, but it only made your stomach churn.

Your eyes screwed shut as John began to push himself into you. You instinctively let out a gasp as you grabbed onto his arms, digging your fingernails into his biceps.

Your neck craned back as your body did its best to accommodate your father and John took that as an opportunity to reach down and nip at your neck.

John continued to slowly work himself in, sending vibrations through your throat as he groaned at the feel of you.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," John moaned into your skin, gradually rutting his hips into you.

You squeezed tighter onto John's arms when he finally bottomed in you, your body rejecting the intrusion as your walls clamped around his cock, attempting to force him out.

"You're so fucking tight," John let out an airy laugh, groaning as he pulled his hips back and forth an inch or so.

Tears were steadily streaming down your face, your mind and body in unison and at war against John.

"Does it feel good, sweetheart? Does Daddy's cock feel so good inside of your tight pussy?" John chuckled, bringing his face above yours.

You didn't have the courage to look up at him, instead opting to keep your eyes shut as John began to pull out further before slamming into you.

John didn't seem to mind your lack of words, instead working off of the gasps that fled your throat in reaction to his movements. He snapped his hips faster and faster as your body got used to his size, and before you knew it, he was nearly leaving your pussy entirely before rutting back into you.

You weren't sure why, because the last thing you wanted was your father to be inside of you, but your arms wrapped around John's back, pulling him closer to you.

A part of you wanted for him to finish as quickly as possible and a part of you just wanted to be close to somebody whilst you dealt with your emotions. You hated how good it felt to hold John in your arms as he fucked into you like there was no tomorrow.

Opening your eyes, you grimaced each time John let out a hot, sweaty breath into your ear. Although you hated to admit it, it was beginning to feel good. You had a gut feeling that what was happening was wrong, but after your body adjusted to John, it began to betray the thoughts in your head.

Your pussy clenched around John's cock as you felt that familiar rumble in your core. Your eyes had not yet dried and they weren't showing any signs of doing that anytime soon, but your uncomfortable gasps soon turned into genuine moans of pleasure.

It felt so wrong as your climax approached, but half of you was desperate for a release. Your body instinctively brought your legs up to wrap around John's body.

As John reached a new depth you didn't know existed before, you gasped loudly as your orgasm became imminent.

"That's it, baby. Cum all over Daddy's cock," John cheered you on, reaching underneath your arms and resting your head in his hands.

When John reached down to kiss you this time, you didn't hesitate to kiss back. With all limbs, you held him as close as possible, locking your lips as your walls began to clench erratically.

"Daddy!" You let out a choked moan, terrified tears turning into those of pleasure.

"That's it. Good girl. Cum for your Daddy." John chuckled, opting to kiss your neck as he began to snap his hips faster.

"Mmm," Was all you could manage to utter out as your climax peaked.

You bit down on John's shoulder, digging your fingernails into his back as you started to come undone around your father.

Suddenly, John's hips began to move erratically. As you bit down on his soft skin and your walls contracted on their own accord, he bottomed inside of you one last time.

John's elongated groan in your ear caused your body to shake as you felt his length twitch unpredictably. With your euphoria washing away with each passing second, reality settled heavily in your stomach and you knew that you needed to escape.

•••

Next Part

•••

Tag List ❤️

@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger @deans-baby-momma @deans-number-one-fan

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