Pairing : Sam x genie!reader, Dean. John, Bobby.
Word count : 1,497
Written for : @spnfluffbingo
Square : Child AU
Warning : Weechesters. Sam is a sad panda, but it gets better. smidge of 'brotherly love’ aka arguing. Fluffy happy end.
A/N : Before anyone asks, I intend to eventually turn this into a series. Just not sure when right now. This was inspired by Shimmer & Shine, which airs on Treehouse TV (the channel my tv is on the most when we are trying to get the baby to sleep.)
SPN Fluff Bingo Masterlist.
Dropping to sit back on the couch, Sam sighed and played with the small trinket in his hands. “Why do I get my hopes up every year.” the eight year old shook his head. John had promised to be back by Christmas, just like every year. And just like every year, he wasn't. Sam sat in the motel room alone except for his sleeping older brother. When the dusty old bird themed wall clock chirped midnight, he let his head fall back. “Merry Christmas to me.”
He had found a necklace at some antique store in town. Leather rope tied with a knot, and hanging from it was a small bottle. ‘to grant your deepest wishes’ he had been told. Originally he had thought it was Djinn poison, but the top didn't open, and he couldn't hear anything inside when he shook it. He got it for his dad, but since John was a no show, maybe he'd give it to Dean, or keep it for next Christmas. “Yeah, maybe next year will be better.” he lied to himself.
He dangled the necklace over his face. and followed the bottle with his eyes. Left. Right. Left. Right. A small part of him was trying to kill time, hoping John would come through the door any minute. But mostly, he was just trying to tire his eyes enough to close and sleep.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.
Sighing again, he let his hand fall to his lap, the bottle nestled under his palm and against his thigh. He closed his eyes and moved his hand, letting the bottle roll against his palm.
“You're young.. but if you have my bottle, you must be my new master.”
Opening his eyes, they settled on you. Your long hair in a braid pulled over your right shoulder to hang down to your hip. The sheer pants, and small top were reminiscent of ‘I dream of Jeannie’ or something you would find a genie wearing in a children's book.
His legs begin to kick, trying to get purchase on the carpeted floor. Eventually they do, and he scrambles back and up the couch, falling over the back of it with a loud thump. When he hears laughter, he peeks over the back with wide eyes.
“You're funny.”
“Maybe it really was djinn poison…” he mumbles to himself. Maybe it's a part of the bottle and not in the bottle. That must be it. “this isn't real…”
You smile falls. “I am no djinn.” you sound insulted and hurt by it.
“Then who are you, and how did you get in here..” he looked around, none of the salt lines Dean had done before going to bed were broken. He couldn't smell sulphur either. “You're not a demon…”
“You brought me here. I'm a genie.”
“Genies aren't real.” he stood, but stayed behind the couch. “Djinn are what most people call genies.”
“I’m not a djinn.” you growled at him. “Djinn are..” you took a deep breath and clenched your jaw. “They grant one final wish and it comes with a heavy price. I do not.” you didn't know how much such a young child could know about djinn, so you kept it simple.
“So you're supposedly a genie? Do I get three wishes?”
“Yes.”
“And then what? Do I pass you along, or..”
“If you wish.”
“Can I wish for more wishes?”
“It would be a wasted wish.”
“Why? Because you can't grant it.. or…”
“Because you get three a day. You just need to wait until the next day. Why waste the wish.”
“Three a day?”
“Mhm.” you nod.
He watched you as you watched him, waiting. “How do I know you're real? How do I know this isn't a dream.”
“Make a wish. But be sure of what you wish for. It might not come how you expect.”
Biting his bottom lip, Sam thought of a simple wish that could be relatively risk free wish. “I wish…” he paused. “I wish to spend Christmas with family.”
You gave him a nod. “Boom Zarahmay,” you clapped your hands together. “First wish of the day.” he watched wide eyed as your hands came apart and as they moved, they left a trail of pink and blue sparkling in their wake. Had never seen anything so beautiful. And then it was gone.
He looked around the room, but nothing had changed. “Where's my wish…”
You gave him a smile and started towards the window. “Your brother is already here. The rest will come.”
A moment later, the phone rang and Sam jumped to pick it up before it woke Dean. “hello?”
“Hey son.” Sam looked up at you when he heard his father's voice. “Why aren't you sleeping? Can't sleep?”
“No. I was waiting up for..” Sam stopped himself. “I'm not sure what..”
“Sorry I'm not there, I know I promised.” he heard his father sigh. “Bobby’ll be there in a few hours to get ya. Christmas at his place this year so you boys aren't alone. I think he said something about gifts for you two? I'll be there by dinner. I promise, Sammy. I mean it this time.”
“Yeah, okay. I'll wake Dean and let him know.”
“Merry Christmas, Sammy. I didn't forget you boys. I'll see you soon.”
“Be careful, dad.” After hanging up he watched you for a minute. “Coincidence. That was just coincidence..”
You shrugged, not turning. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Well, I need to wake up my brother.. how do-” suddenly you were gone, and when he looked down at the bottle, there was a slight pink and blue sparkle to it for a moment, and it stopped. “Alright..” Stuffing the necklace into his pocket, he went and climbed into the bed his brother slept in. “Dean.” he shook him. “Dean!”
“Huh?” Dean grumbled. “What, Sammy What?”
“Dad called. Bobby's on his way to get us. We gotta pack up.”
“Yeah, Yeah.. Five more minutes.” Dean turned his head away and started snoring again.
With a sigh, Sam got to work packing everything.
Sam stared out the window, watching the snow fall as Bobby drove. He was in the back, while Dean sat in the front chatting away. “So when’d you talk to dad?”
Bobby was quiet for a minute. “Ya know, I don’t remember talking to ‘im.” Bobby furrowed his brow, but kept his eyes on the road. “Strangest thing.”
“Dad called Sammy saying you were coming, so you must have spoken to him.”
“Yeah, must’ve. Probably ‘round when I was half asleep earlier. Been feeling a bit sick. Got a cold or som’in coming on.”
Dean shifted as far as he could away from him. “Keep it to yourself, man. I don’t want it.” He looked at Bobby with disgust.
“Oh, shoot son, and here was was getting ready to plant a big slobbery kiss on ya.” He laughed as Dean’s face contorted even more. “Relax, kid.”
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled the necklace out and looked at it. “It really was you, wasn’t it?”
“What’s that?” Sam glanced up and Bobby was looking at him in the rear view.
“Nothing. Talking to myself.” He tucked the necklace again again.
Dean rolled his eyes. “No wonder he has no friends.”
“I have no friends because your ugly mug scares them away.”
“You take that back!” Dean turned in his seat, glaring at his little brother who just stuck out his tongue.
“Boys! Not in the damn car!”
Bobby sent the boys to bed as soon as they got out of the car. But he stayed up, he had some things to finish up. He wrapped gifts he had bought for the boys, just in case they came around. He even set up an old artificial tree he had had packed away in the basement from long ago. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing.
When John walked in his door, shrugging off the bit of snow that had settled on his shoulders, Bobby spoke. “Why can’t I remember you calling me?”
“I don’t know..” He pulled off his jacket and moved in, letting his bag fall. “Where are the boys?”
“Bed. They were exhausted when we got here, and I figured it’d be nice to let them wake up to a real Christmas.”
John nodded. “Thanks for this, Bobby. And for sending the help so I could get home on time.”
Bobby turned. “I didn’t send anyone.”
“You sure? Phil showed up, said he got word I needed help so I could get home to my boys. I just figured-”
“John, I didn’t call anyone..”
“Huh…” John stood there for a moment, trying to figure out who else could have sent someone to help him. Had Dean called him knowing Sam was upset?
“Dad?” John looked up, and there stood Sam, star wars pjs, bed head and all.
“Hey Sammy. Told you I’d make it.” He smiled.
Sam smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas, Sammy.”
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Pairing : Weapons!Winchesters x Meister!Reader. Lord Death, John Winchester.
Word count : 1,064
Warnings : Sam and Dean fighting. A past secret is revealed.
Part 4 in The Demon Weapons Winchester.
Getting out of the shower, you dried up quick. You still needed to call Lord Death to report. You hoped Sam had cooled off a bit. There was logic behind letting Dean have the first soul, he would see that soon. You decided you would need to talk to him after this.
Throwing on your robe, you gave your hair a quick towel dry. Once you were ready, you took a deep breath and began writing in the steam on your mirror. “42-42-564” You wrote as you said it. “Whenever you want to knock on death’s door.”
There was a light ringing sound, so you turned and opened the bathroom door, letting some of the cool air from the rest of the house in.
“Lord Death, are you there?”
“Yo yo, Y/N, how’s it hanging.” His face came in, close up before he backed away a little. “How did it go?”
“We got our first Soul, Lord Death. We had a few.. complications, but we came through in the end.”
“Very good, very good. And the Winchesters? Getting along? Those boys were always a hand full.”
You went to open your mouth, but you heard a door swing open and hit the wall. “Leave me alone, Dean.” came Sam’s voice.
“I don’t get what your problem is. It’s just one damn soul.”
“It was my first kill, Dean. And I didn’t even get to enjoy it.”
You signed, your face taking on an irritated look. “How do you think?”
“You gave Dean the first soul?” Lord Death asked and you nodded. “Interesting..”
Dean burst out laughing. “What the hell is so funny?” Sam growled.
“You didn’t even get the kill.” Dean continued to laugh.
“We’re a team.” Sam was getting angry and you could hear it.
“My kill. My soul.” Dean taunted him.
“There was logic behind giving it to Dean.” You told Lord Death. “But Sam wouldn’t let me talk to him and explain.”
You heard a crash and flinched. “Might want to get in there. You can give me a detailed report tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sir. Good night, Sir.”
His mirror showed his reflection again, and he sighed. “Your boys are going to break that poor girl.” He didn’t turn, but John came up and stood next to him.
“I tried to warn her. But she’ll do those boys good. I see a lot of her mother in her.”
“Yes, I forgot, your wife was your second Meister.” John nodded. “Have you told her of the connection?”
John shook his head. “She doesn’t need to know.”
You stormed out of the bathroom to find a broken lamp and both boys wrestling. “Enough!” You yelled, and they stopped and looked up. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Sam shoved Dean off of him and got up. “I’m tired of being ignored.”
“You’re not being ignored..”
Sam let out a half chuckle. “You listen to Dean. You work more with Dean, you train more with Dean-”
“Because he needs it, Sam.”
“You give him the first kill.” He continued, barely pausing to let you get much say. “The first soul. We were paired together, you and me, and he keeps rubbing it in my face that you’d rather have just him.”
You glared at Dean who was still laying on the floor with a smirk. “Do you want to know why he got the first kill? Instinct, Sam. I hold him in my dominant hand, because he refuses to work with me if I hold him in my other hand. ‘Hates the way it feels’. I don’t train with you as much because I don’t need to. We work well together. We have since day one. Do you want me to baby you like I do you brother? Will that make you feel better?”
“Hey!” Dean sat up.
“Know why he got the first soul? Because he needs that too.” Sam clenched his jaw. “He won’t work with anyone, he’s difficult, and stubborn and GOD he’s infuriating. He pushes every single person who tries away. How many Meisters have you had, Dean? Five?”
“Nine.” He grumbled.
“So I gave him the first one to show that I’m not giving up on him. I’m in it for the long haul, I’m not walking away no matter how god damn hard he pushes me.” Sam swallowed, his shoulders losing some of their tensity. “If you want to be the first Death Weapon, fine. I honestly don’t give a shit who reaches it first. But I need your dumbass brother to realize that we are a fucking team. It isn’t him against the world anymore. Maybe you need to take a second to realize it too.” With that you walked away, leaving them to their thoughts. “And anything you break, you replace.” You told them before slamming your bedroom door.
“Way to piss her off, Sammy.” Dean shook his head as he got up.
“Me!?” Sam turned. “You’re the asshole who-”
“Seriously!?” you yelled from your bedroom.
“Sorry.” They both said in unison and bowed their heads. Dean nudged his brother with his elbow, and Sam shot him a glare.
You headed for the Death room with purpose. You held your head high as you went, and both boys trailed just behind you on either side. You walked under the guillotines that served as arches over the path. “Good morning, Lord Death. Mr Winchester.”
“Just call me John, sweetheart.” He gave you a soft smile as you stepped up. As soon as the boys came to a stop next to you, John smacked them both behind the head. “Stop giving her a damn hard time.”
“But he-” Sam pointed to his older brother.
“Enough, Sammy.” John warned. “I know damn well what happened. You’ll get yours, she hasn’t forgotten about you. As for you.” he turned to his oldest. “You know damn well what you did wrong, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” Dean bowed his head. “I already got an ear full, sir.”
John looked at you, and you gave him a small smile. “Good. You two need a good woman to keep your asses in line.” Sam looked to his father, eyes squinting slightly as he thought about what his father might mean, but Dean just nodded.
“Now that we’ve worked that out.” Lord Death finally spoke. “Let’s get Samuel his first soul, shall we.”
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“You’re grounded!” Dean’s voice hit you the second you opened the door.
“What?” You followed his voice to the kitchen of the house you were currently pretty much squatting in. The place was rented, but it was only a matter of time before you got kicked out for bad checks. Sam was already home, sitting at the table with his books open and you shot him a look.
“Don’t worry, Sammy didn’t rat you out.” Dean had his hands on the table, staring you down. “Did you really think the school hasn’t been calling?”
You rolled your eyes at him. Dean was officially your unofficial guardian. He had trumped up paperwork to give schools, and anyone else he needed, but it wasn’t legit. Thankfully, no one looked too closely at it. It had been almost a year since your parents had died. “Fuck off, Dean.” You turned to walk away.
“Sit your ass down.” He growled, pointing at the chair across from him. You ignored him taking another step. “Now!” You turned and glared. “You’re going to sit that ass down, and do your damn homework. Then-”
You cut him off. “If you know I haven't been in, then you know I don’t have homework.” You gave him a smart ass smirk.
“Sammy.” His eyes didn’t leave you as Sam pulled out a ton of work from his bag. “I told them to send it all home with Sammy. You have a week to get this shit done.”
“What!? Dean I can’t do that all in a week!” You gasped at the stack of books.
“Then maybe next time you’ll fucking smarten up.”
You teared up, and left the room. Sam sighed and looked up at his brother. “A little tough there, Dean.”
“Y/N!” Dean called out.
“You’re not my dad! Stop trying to act like him and leave me alone!” You slammed your bedroom door.
Dean sighed. “She needs it. She can’t keep going like this. I’m not going to let her throw it all away..”
“Take her out later to shoot something.” Sam said, going back to his book. “Get her mind off everything.”
“Yeah, maybe..” Dean was looking at the arch way you had gone through.
“Sweetheart?” Dean knocked on the door. No answer. “Come on.. Open up.” Still nothing. Opening the door, he saw you laying on your mattress that was on the floor. It wasn’t worth getting a nice big bed when you wouldn’t be staying.
Sighing, Dean went over. “I’m sorry.” He said, as he sat down by your back.
“No you’re not.” You didn’t move, didn’t turn to him.
“You’re right, I’m not. It’s been almost a year, sweetheart. You can’t keep going like this.” He moved a strand of hair off your face and tucked it behind your ear.
“A year.” You scoffed. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like yesterday. They were all I had, Dean… I can’t just- I can’t just forget about them.”
“No one's asking you to. And they were never all you had. You always had me and Sammy. I’ve been taking care of you since you were about five months old. Don’t shut me out now.” He moved to lay down with you, hugging you close when you turned towards him.
“I’m sorry..” You clung to the back of his shirt. “I’m sorry I’m being so difficult, I don’t know what to do.”
He gently rubbed your back. “I’ve been letting it slide, giving you space. I hoped you would come out of it on your own.. They’re talking of expelling you, sweetheart. And it’s not the first school to call and tell me that. That’s why I’m coming down so hard. You’re brilliant, you’re smarter than all those idiots in that school. Stop fighting, and walking out. Don’t throw it all away. I’m still so proud of you. Keep making me proud, make them proud.”
“They were never proud of me.. Nothing was good enough, I could always do better.”
“Your mother was always proud of you.” Dean moved back so he could look at your face, his hand brushing your hair back. “And your dad..well..” Dean sighed. “Even if he hated me teaching you this shit, almost beat my ass for teaching you to shoot, teaching you to swing a machete.. He was proud.” He smiled. “When he drank with the guys, with my dad.. You were all he talked about. How good you did in school, how you killed it at everything you tried. He might of hated how much you loved this, but he was fucking proud.”
“Really?”
Dean nodded. “Why do you think he liked you being so close to Sammy? Sammy could have a future outside this. He’s smart enough. So are you.”
“You are too, Dean.”
Dean shook his head. “I’m a grunt, sweetheart. This is all I know. If just one of you two makes it somewhere outside this, then I’m worth something. Please, don’t throw it away. I worked so hard on the both of you.”
You nodded, tears running down your cheeks. “I’ll try. I promise, I’ll try.”
“Good.” He smiled and kissed your forehead. “Now, Sammy wants to go out shooting. Then, starting tomorrow morning, we’re getting you caught up in school. You’re suspended for a week, so I want you caught up as much as you can be when we get you back in. I’m getting dressed up for you, doing this bullshit meeting to get you back in. Don’t make me do it for nothing.” He teased.
You held onto him quietly for a bit. “Thank you, Dean. For everything.”
“It’s what I do. Now get your gun. Sammy found Casper tucked away. Let’s go shoot him in the face.” He smiled hearing you laugh into his chest.
“I shouldn’t be here…” You mumbled, moving silently beside Dean. “You should have brought Sam. I’m only fifteen, I shouldn’t-”
“Sam’s at the grave site. Besides, you’ve done this before-”
“Your dad keeps me on research, Dean. He’s going to kill you when he finds out you’ve got me hunting with you.”
“You’re my best shot when it comes to ghosts.”
“This isn’t Casper!” He shushed you. “This is a real ghost, Dean…” Your voice a whisper. “Not a Halloween decoration Sammy strung up behind Bobby’s.”
He stopped you, grabbing your shoulders. “You can do this. You’re ready. I know you better than anyone, you’re ready. And I’m right here with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight, I promise.”
You nodded, and he let you go. You stepped into the room, and looked around, gun ready. Moving farther into the room, the door slammed shut behind you. “Dean!” You ran back to it, banging on it.
“Focus, sweetheart.” Came his voice.
“Dean, I-”
“You’ve got this. You’ve trained for this. I’ll be in there in a sec, don’t worry. Focus.”
You nodded, your forehead leaning on the door for a second before you turned. “Focus..” Swallowing, you set out to do the job. “I can do this… I can do this..”
You winced as Dean put a beer in front of you. “Dean-”
“You earned it. I knew you could do it.” He grinned with pride. “You’re a Winchester.” He teased.
“Welcome to the family.” Sam held his up. “Just don’t tell dad. He really will kill us.”
“About the hunt? Or the drinking?”
Sam froze for a second. “Both?” You chuckled and nodded.
“Too late.” Came John’s voice from the doorway.
“Sir..” Dean almost looked afraid for an instant.
“What’d you take her on, Dean.” John looked at his eldest.
“Salt and burn.” You stood, almost protective of Dean.
His eyes shifted to you. “You kill it?”
You nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“You hurt?”
“Just a scratch or two. Promise.”
“She did good, Dad. I wouldn’t have brought her if I didn’t know she could handle it.”
John watched you silently. “Guess you’re a Winchester after all.” He gave you a small smile. “Get me a beer, son.”
“Yes sir.” Dean grabbed one and handed it to his father.
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Tagging : Growing up Winchester - @rhapsody-in-flannel @deanandsamsbitch @dizzy-sunshine
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Dean - @evyiione @soythedemonqueen @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278
Dean glanced from his father, to you. Sam held you, letting you cry and cling to his shirt. Glancing back at his father one last time, he headed out to the truck. He would be in charge of getting them and the pyre ready. Luckily, it was the dead of night, and the motel was pretty deserted. He lifted up the tarp, and his heart broke. No wonder his father didn’t want you anywhere near the truck. It was bad. It was beyond bad.
Putting the tarp back down, Dean just stood there, hand against the cold steel of the truck. “Fuck..” He breathed out.
When the motel door opened, you looked up and saw Dean, his face paler. He was trying his best to school his face, but the second his eyes went to you, he lost that battle. “How bad?” Dean just shook his head.
Shoving Sam off, you got up and started towards him. Sam tried to grab you, but you pushed him. “Sweetheart, please..” Dean pleaded.
“I need to see them.” You didn’t take your eyes off the door behind him as you moved.
“No.” He told you. Dean grabbed your wrist when you got to him, and you shook him off. “I won’t let you.”
“They’re my parents!” You screamed at him.
“Please.” He pleaded again. “You don’t want to see that, please just trust me.”
“I need to at least see my mom.”
Sam tried to grab hold of you. He knew it was bad before Dean even went out there, he knew because it had his father crying. That wasn’t something John Winchester did. “It’s not a good idea-”
“You wouldn’t understand!” You screamed at them, turning on Sam, hitting and shoving him. “You never had a mom! You don’t know shit, Sam!”
“But Dean did..” Sam answered softly, taking the hits. “Dean knew our mom. He loved her.”
“Dean was four!” You shoved Sam as hard as you could, but he didn’t budge. You had always beat him when you sparred, when did he get this strong? Did he really always let you win? “I had my whole life! A whole life of memories! Thirteen years Sam! Neither of you will ever understand!”
You finally got Sam off, knocking him on his ass. Dean was blocking the door and you knew you wouldn’t get by him so you ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. They could hear the sobs coming from within.
“I tried..” John said quietly. “Why couldn’t he just fucking wait for us? Why didn’t she just listen to me? I tried, boys. I tried so fucking hard to keep her safe and get her home to her daughter.. I didn’t know how to tell that girl her father was dead… I didn’t want to have to tell her they both were… Fuck..”
Dean licked his lips. “We’ll go get everything ready.. Think I saw an empty lot not too far outside of town..”
John nodded. “We can’t leave her alone-”
“Dean, get them ready and wrapped. I’ll go with dad to build the pyers.”
“You sure?”
Sam nodded. “She needs you. It was always you.”
You faintly heard the comings and goings, but you didn’t move from the bathroom floor. Then everything was silent and you were sure you were alone. Until the door opened, and a body joined you on the floor, wrapping itself around you.
Sniffling, you buried your face against his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay.. You’re right. It’s been fifteen years for me.” Dean sighed. “But please, trust me, you didn’t need that memory to taint the others.”
“How bad?” You braced yourself.
“Very… Oh fuck, very.” You nodded, fresh round of tears starting to fall. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I got them ready for a hunters funeral. Dad and Sammy went off to build the pyre. When it’s all ready, we’ll head out there, okay? You and me. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thanks, Dean.”
John watched you from across the fire. You stood on your own, watching it burn. You watched as your life burned up right in front of you, like he had the night Mary died. Everything turning to smoke and ash, leaving you broken and raw and no idea where to turn.
But you had something he hadn’t. Them. His boys. He knew those boys would pick you up and help you walk again, like they had when you were learning to take your first steps. His boys loved you with everything they had in their own way, and he was glad. He hoped, prayed, that it would keep you from going off the deep end like he had. He hoped it would be enough to keep this from becoming your life, like it was Dean’s. This vendetta, his vendetta ingrained in them from childhood. He didn’t want that for you.
He watched you until the fire burned itself out. He watched you long after, as you stood there. “Sweetheart?” You barely glanced at him. “I got this on the way up here. I thought maybe you’d like too.. Ya know..” He held out a small lidded jar. It was black, painted with daisies. Your mothers favourite flower.
You nodded, mumbling a quiet “Thanks.”
“You’ll get through this.” Dean told you, hours later, arm around you as he lead you back to his Impala.
“What do I do now?” You were looking down as you walked, at the jar in your arms. “I’m thirteen, I can’t just go off on my own, and I don’t want to go live with my aunt in her boring suburb with her six kids..”
“I won’t let you.” Deans arm tightened around you. “I’ll take care of you. You’re one of us now, kid.” He smiled when you looked up at him.
“You’re a Winchester, now.” John gave you a sad smile. “You were always going to be a Winchester. It just happened a bit sooner.”
“Still pushing your boys on me, huh.” You gave him a small smile and were rewarded with his face getting just a bit brighter at the sight.
“You chose ‘em, sweetheart.” He motioned to the car. “Get in. We’re going home.”
You got in, and waited for Dean to slide in next to you in the drivers seat. “This is home.” You leaned your head on Dean’s shoulder. “You, Sammy, and this car.”
Dean smiled, kissing the top of your head as he started her up, and pulled out onto the dirt road. “Welcome home.”
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Tagging : Growing up Winchester - @rhapsody-in-flannel @deanandsamsbitch @dizzy-sunshine
Dean - @evyiione @soythedemonqueen @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278
When you walked into your apartment after class, you tossed down your bag and keys. “Hey, baby girl.”
You jumped, but when you turned and saw the attractive older man sitting on your couch, you smiled. “Hi, Daddy.”
“I brought you something.” He motioned to a box on the coffee table, and smiled at how your face lit up. He loved to surprise you.
You bit your lip and all but skipped over. Sitting on the floor between his feet, you started to open the box. Peeling aside the tissue paper inside, you found new black heels, and a tight black dress. “You shouldn’t have, Daddy.”
“Do you like them?” His deep voice was soft as he kissed your shoulder.
“I love them. Thank you.” You turned to him. “You know you don’t have to keep buying me things.”
“I want my baby girl to look good tonight.”
“Are we going somewhere?” You smiled up at him.
“Maybe a little dinner, sweetheart. And maybe we’ll hit the bar, if you want to show off you’re new outfit. I know you like to after I leave town. Maybe I’ll join you this time.” You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him.
He chuckled into the kiss. “Go get changed, sweetheart.” You grabbed the box and hurried off to get dressed. He watched you go, loving how happy and excited you got. He needed that in his life. That’s why he kept coming back. Always bringing gifts even though he knew he didn’t have to. He just wanted your smile to never fade.
After dinner, you both strolled over to a local bar. You told him to grab a table while you went to order beers, insisting on at least paying for the first round since he paid for dinner. He knew better then to argue about it, and went to sit.
“Hey, Sam!” Your friend was sitting at the bar, so you nudged him. “Jess here?”
“Hey. Wow! Look at you.” You blushed and he chuckled. “No, it’s just me tonight.”
“Stay out of trouble, Sam.” You poked him, and turned to the bartender to order two beers.
“Speaking of trouble, I’m assuming based on this outfit the mysterious boyfriend was in town again? Will I ever get to meet him?”
You bit your lip and turned scanning the crowd to find him. “John!” You called out.
When John turned, the smile faded off Sam’s face. “Dad?”
You looked at Sam, dumbfounded. John got up and walked over. “Hey, Sammy. It’s been a while, son.”
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