SPN One Shots... (Dean Winchester x Reader)

The Dinner Guest (AU, Daughter!Reader)

Warning: daddy!Dean, language, some angst, mentions of past unplanned teenage pregnancy (age not specified), mentions of past financial struggles, mentions of divorce/separation/Sam dating Dean's ex-wife (Y/N's mom), John being a bit of a jerk, dysfunctional family, mainly fluff

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"Where have you been?" Your father asked, flipping on the entrance light when you opened the front door.

It was later than you expected to get back and you knew he would be pissed especially since you had left him to deal with his father, your grandfather, John, alone. You were supposed to be having dinner with them earlier, for the first time in forever since John was never in town, but skipped out on it; on purpose. What you didn't expect to see was John's boots next to the front door, meaning he was still there.

"Out." You replied stiffly, struggling with your keys in the sticky lock and yanking them free with a rough tug.

"Out, where?" Dean questioned, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at you.

"Just, out. What's it to you?" You snipped, slamming the door shut like you knew he hated.

"I'm your father, Y/N, and it's midnight! You know you were supposed to be home for dinner and you blatantly missed curfew. So, who were you with?" He said, raising his voice and you knew John, who was in the other room could probably hear every word.

"There's no point in me telling you." You shrugged off your coat, throwing it at the hook on the wall and not caring that it didn't stick, doing the same with your purse.

"And, why not?"

"Because I'm sure you tracked my phone anyways, like you always do. You're a compulsive control freak and that's exactly why mom left you for Uncle Sammy." You growled, giving him your best staredown.

You knew you had been taking a lot out on him lately, but you were angry and he was the only one around since your mother moved out to live with your uncle a few months ago. You didn't understand the whole situation, mainly because your father refused to talk to you about it. You still loved both of your parents, but you couldn't bottle up your feelings as well as he could and it had been creating a rift between you for a while now.

"I'm gonna give you one chance to take that back, little girl." Dean warned, chewing on his lip in frustration, no doubt drawing some blood.

"I'm almost eighteen. I'm not your little girl."

"Just... go to your room," your father huffed, palming the scruff on his chin and furrowing his brows at his feet.

You could tell he didn't know how to handle you anymore, now that you were older and hardly listened to him. You found that both empowering and kinda scary, you didn't like seeing him deflated like that, like he was alone in the world. You hoped he still knew that you were always on his side and that you were just angry at the situation, not so much him. Yet, you still said it...

"I hate you, I can't wait to get out of here too." You muttered, kicking off your shoes so they bounced off of the wall, dried dirt scattering across the hardwood.

An action that usually triggered your father's wrath. You'd been testing him a lot lately. You pushed past him and started up the stairs.

"Excuse me?! Y/N, get back here!" Dean ordered, pointing to the ground in front of him.

"Thought I was supposed to go to my room," you quipped, turning on the stairs to face him and towering over him for a change.

"Look, kid, I understand you're still upset about the separation-"