Pairing : John x Reader, Weechesters, Bobby x Daughter!Reader
Word count : 501
Prompt : Holiday Prompt #12 - Your OTP gets in a snowball fight
Warnings : A fun time for those little Weechester rascals. Reader was adopted by Bobby as a child, and is now a full grown adult. The relationship with John is on the down low because Bobby would not approve.
“Where’s dad? Are you sure he’s coming today?”
“It’s what he said.”
“Dad lies.” A six year old Sam glared.
“Dad doesn’t lie, Sam.” Dean snapped.
“He always lies about when he’s coming home. What if he went to meet Uncle Bobby instead, did your dad say-”
“Boys!” You cut in before they could continue arguing. “He should be here any minute, now get into position. He called from a town over. I promise, he’ll be here.”
Sam nodded and looked up to Dean. “Our spot is over there.” Dean pointed across the yard to a shell of a car. “I’ve got like a hundred snowballs ready and waiting, Sammy. He’ll never know what hit him.” Sam finally smiled, for the first time since hearing his dad was on the way, he smiled and ran with his brother across the lot to the little fort filled with snowballs they’d spent all yesterday building.
It was somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes when you heard the first signs of the Impala coming. You saw the boys faces light up across the yard before they ducked down and hid. The plan was simple. You distract, the boys go in for the kill.
As soon as John Winchester stepped out of his car, you hit him with the first ball. And then a second, and a third. It was when the fourth one hit him that he spotted you. “Seriously!?” You just grinned and launched another, he turned, and it hit him on the side of the head. “Oh, that's it!”
You yelped, grabbing what snowballs you could as John ran after you with a big grin. You bolted from your hiding spot, tuning from time to time to send a snowball his way. Snowballs he dodged with ease as he, caught up with you.
You yelped as his arms wrapped around you and swung you around until you both fell in the snow, John smiling from above you. “The boys?”
“They're around.”
“They been good?”
“Always are.”
“Bobby?”
“Left with Rufus two days ago.”
“Expecting him home soon?”
You shook your head. “Not for a few days.”
“Good. Then I can do this.” He ducked his head down and his lips pressed to yours, slightly parted and taking your bottom lip between them.
You felt the snow starting to hit you, balls of it pelting down on John. He pulled away with a slight glare. “Tsk tsk. I can't believe you fell for the bait.” you teased.
He looked over and his two boys who'd paused their assaults to grin at him. “Boys…” John's voice was a warning, but the boyish spark in his eye was all playful.
Dean straight his back. “I'm gonna tell uncle Bobby that you kissed Y/N.”
“Oh, no you won't!” John got up off of you to chase after his boys who were laughing and running from him.
“You're gonna be in trouble!” Sam sang as he ducked past John to follow his older brother to safety.
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Dean spends the afternoon with the predator pack, disliking them more with every minute he spends with them. But they’re a group, a powerful one at that school, and being accepted by them is a hell of a lot better than being alone, or worse, their enemy. So he fakes laughing at their cruel jokes at others’ expense, pretends to share their disdain of prey animals. He acts like an asshole, and the whole time he’s thinking of the hurt in Sam’s eyes when he acted tough at his little brother’s expense.
He finally escapes by claiming his dad will be pissed if he’s not home by sunset, and he wouldn’t care except sometimes John’s a scary drunk. Of course, he omits the fact that John isn’t even home at the moment and he’s supposed to be in charge, and what he’s really rushing home for is to ensure Sammy ate dinner.
Before he leaves, the predators tell him to meet them in the park tomorrow after school, and he reluctantly agrees before racing home.
“Sammy?” He edges into the motel room, spotting just the fluffy top of his brother’s head peeking out from under the mound of blankets on his bed. “Hey, Sammy I...” The blankets inch a little higher and Dean sighs, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. He puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and realizes that the fawn is shaking. No, crying. God, he fucked up. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I really-”
“Jus’ go away!” Sam chokes out, muffled against the pillow as he rolls away from Dean.
“Did you eat? I could order us a pizza.” Dean prods, trying to draw his little brother out.
“Had leftover pasta.” Sam answers shortly. “Leave me alone.” Obviously he’s getting nowhere tonight, so Dean retreats to his own bed, though he doesn’t sleep. He lays there hating himself as Sam’s sniffles fill the darkness.
At some point unconsciousness claims him, because he wakes the next morning to the sound of the door. He sits up and looks around, confused until he realizes Sam must have left for school without him. He runs to the door and opens it, but the fawn’s already long gone.
Dean spends the day worrying over how to fix things with his brother without upsetting the tenuous relationship he has with the predator group. He hates seeing Sam upset, but also knows that if he ditches the predators they could make the rest of his time at this school a living hell.
Finally, it’s almost time for school to let out, and Dean starts walking. Eventually he reaches the schools’ street, and stands there on the corner, staring between them. On the one side is Sam’s middle school, where Dean could go meet his baby brother and try and buy his forgiveness with a triple scoop of rocky road. On the other side is his high school, where the predators will be expecting him, and he doesn’t think letting them down would end well.
But there never really was a choice, was there? Of course he ends up wading through a swarm of fifth-graders to get to his brother. Sam tries to bolt but Dean grabs his backpack and hauls him back.
“C’mon, Sammy, I’m sorry, okay?” The fawn stares down at his feet, stubbornly refusing to answer. “Sam.” Dean kneels down, forcing his brother to look at him. “You’re the best brother in the world, you know that right? You’re not annoying and I like having you around, okay? So just, lemme buy you an ice cream?”
A smile creeps over Sam’s face despite himself, and he nods. “You’re the second-best brother ever.” He teases, and then yelps in protest when Dean musses a hand through his hair, both of them laughing as they head back down the street.
