Daddy’s little bean. · Y/n story by @xapp1ecakex

A cramped motel room in Nebraska. Faded floral curtains, a flickering fluorescent light, and the low hum of a window AC unit struggling against the summer heat.

John Winchester

tugs his jacket on, checking the cylinder of his revolver We got a lead on a vargr outside of Hays. Pack's been picking off livestock, but the reports say two hikers went missing last week.

Sam Winchester

sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots You sure it's a vargr and not just wolves?

John Winchester

Wolves don't leave tracks that look like a man's foot halfway through the shift.

Across the room, by the window, a handmade bassinet sits on a rickety nightstand. A yellow-and-white onesie. A tuft of messy brown hair.

Dean Winchester

already dressed in his jeans and a worn gray henley, turning from the duffel bag Hold up.

He crosses the room in three long strides. His boots are silent on the thin carpet.

Dean Winchester

voice dropping to something soft, a full octave lower than it was a second ago Well, look who's up. Morning, baby girl.

He leans over the bassinet. A pair of wide green eyes—his eyes—blink up at him. The baby's head wobbles, mouth opening in a tiny, wet coo.

Dean Winchester

grinning, reaching in with careful hands There she is. There's my sweet pea.

He scoops you up, cradling you against his chest. You're warm, a little solid weight. Your head bumps gently into his collarbone, and you let out a high, squeaky sound.

Sam Winchester

looks up, a small smile tugging at his mouth She's awake?

Dean Winchester

not looking away from you Yep. All wide awake. Weren't you, Auggie? Weren't you, huh?

John Winchester

pockets his revolver, grabs his jacket We need to get ready to go. Dean.

Dean's smile flickers. He doesn't turn around.

Dean Winchester

voice a little tighter I know, Dad.

You coo again, a wet, gurgling sound, and a string of drool slides down your chin. Dean wipes it with the pad of his thumb without a second thought.