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May. 24th, 2012


Title: Bedtime Blues
Pairings: Mary, John, sammy (3), Dean (7)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Eric Kripke
Author's Note: So, this was meant to be a drabble, but I got a bit carried away, haha! I finished another exam yesterday and then just have one more left (on Monday) so I'll have much more free time. woo! Anyway, here's Capricorn's prompt for this: 
Drabble idea: 3-year-old Sam runs away from John/Mary because he doesn`t want to take a bath. I imagine he`d be given a swat or two but not a proper spanking. If this features John or Mary is up to you. 
So yeah, enjoy! Let me know what you love or hate or if you have any requesty type things :)


Mary Winchester drags a hand through her hair as her 3 year old son runs riot in the house. Dean, her 7 year old son is on the couch in his pajamas watching a film, quietly for once, and for that she’s grateful. “Sammy, I already told you it’s time to get ready for bed, now c’mon.”
She takes the small hand in hers and leads him up the stairs, even as he tries to wrench his arm out of her grip. “Want Dee!” He wails, pouting.
“Sammy, you need to get a bath. You can see Dee soon, okay?”
“Dee!” Sammy whines.
Mary bites her tongue, sweeping the boy onto her hip as she continues to the bathroom and leans down to turn the faucet to on, starting the water running.
“Hey, honey! I’m home!” Mary bites back a groan at her husband’s call; relief and frustration warring within her.
“Daddddy!” Sammy screeches, face lighting up.
“Nuhuh, Mr. You’re having a bath first.” Mary informs him, pulling him back to where she stands. Sammy glares at her, folding his arms. Trying to avoid a tantrum, Mary compromises.
“Aw, c’mon, Sammy. Why don’t we find some toys to play with?” The water is at the right volume by then and she turns to get the basket where the bath toys are kept after turning the tap off.

Sammy seizes his opportunity; running out of the bathroom as fast as his chubby legs will carry him, a determined frown on his face. Mary looks up, growling his name in her annoyance before setting off after him. She snakes a hand around his wrist, pulling him to a stop, landing four sharp smacks to his small, squirming backside.
“Yeoooooooooooooooowwwww! DADDY!” Sam’s face scrunches up as the screeching wail escape his lips and Mary feels tears welling up in her eyes. Trying to stay strong, she looks him in the eye. “Samuel Winchester, I told you three times it was bath time. You don’t run away from me, do you understand? That was naughty.” She says calmly before letting his wrist go. Sammy looks at her; his eyes filled with hurt. And then he tears off again, a repeated mantra of, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” filling the house as Sam provides them all with his heartfelt theatrics.

Mary stands blankly on the landing, fighting tears in her wound up state, and John appears a moment later, hands still stained with motor oil and his hair damp from the rain outside. It’s winter, and Mary knows how much he loves sitting near the fire when he gets home from work; using it to heat himself up from the cold weather. She suspects he’s been sitting with Dean watching Peter Pan until hearing the ruckus; the confusion shadowing his features with concern is almost enough to bring forth the tears in her own eyes. She’s always struggled with the bedtime routine, and tonight is no different with Sammy; her strong willed, intelligent Sammy refusing to go to bed once more. Feeling like she’s failed her baby by spanking him, she sighs heavily, not sure what to do.

John bends his knees and catches an armful of Sammy ploughing towards him, raising his eyebrows at his wife and fighting a grin as Sammy moulds himself into his Dad’s strong chest, sobbing in a jumble of words, “Daddy! Daddy! Mommy hitted me!”
“She hit you?”
“Uhuh, f…” Sammy pauses to count the numbers; scrunching his face up in concentration, “Four? Times! It hurt!” He pouts gloriously and John bites his lip for a moment before shushing the boy softly. He gives Mary that look; his warm brown eyes promising her that everything’ll be just fine and telling her not to worry before carrying his little boy out of sight to the dining room so he can sit down and explain to Sammy what’s just happened.
Mary stands a moment longer before heading to his bedroom to get his PJ’s, blankey and teddy ready along with his pull ups; knowing he’s tired and that John’ll probably be chatting to him for a little while, just glad she doesn’t have to deal with her energetic son.

Meanwhile, John sits down balancing Sammy on his lap. Sammy squirms uncomfortably, tears still making their way down his chubby three year old cheeks. “Sammy,” John begins calmly, searching for the right words. “Mommy didn’t hit you, baby. Well, I guess she kinda did. But it’s different. That’s called a spanking, what you got. Not a real spanking either, you got a few smacks. But that’s what happens to naughty little boys, they get their bottoms smacked.” He continues with a raised brow at his son, hoping to get the full story from the little boy -and quickly because it’s past his bedtime. “Do you know why your mom spanked you?”
John takes great care emphasizing the word to make sure Sammy can distinguish between the two and Sammy clearly knows what he’s doing because he frowns at his Daddy, squirming uncomfortably. “Uh…” Sammy puts on his thinking face before his eyes widen a bit and he quickly looks down. John gently reaches out and tilts Sammy’s chin up so he can look him in the eyes. Sammy looks at him sadly before quickly admitting, “…I ranned away from Mommy whenned she ranned my baf. An’ I didunt do what I was told today. Am I gont get spankeded again, daddy?” he asks pitifully, fresh tears in his eyes as John watches realization reach his eyes, shadowing them.
John smiles; unable to resist grinning at how cute his baby boy is. “No, no, Sammy Tiger. When you get spanked by me or your Mommy; that’s it done. No more feeling guilty. If you get a smack, we forgive you. And then you just gotta try and be a good boy afterwards so you don’t get in more trouble. Mommy spanked you tonight but now it’s finished so it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to say your sorries to Mommy though. Understand?”
Sammy nods, feeling bad about being naughty and not just having his bath like a good boy. Dee would have had his bath like a good boy, Sammy is sure of that. His big brother always does the right thing. John can read his son like a book and chuckles; knowing what Sammy is thinking. “No, Sammy. Don’t you worry yourself about that… Sometimes Dee gets spanked too. You know why? Cuz’ he’s little and sometimes little boys are naughty and their mommy’s or daddy’s have to correct their behaviour so they know how to behave good…”
“It’s true, Sammy. Sometimes Daddy puts me over his knee and spanks me when I do something bad. And it hurts lots but then he gives me lots of kisses and cuddles afterwards and it makes me feel better and it’s cause he loves me; Mommy too. Isn’t that right, daddy?” Dean interrupts their conversation to soothe his brother and John smiles at him gratefully. Dean nods, understanding what Daddy’s eyes are telling him and John smiles, confirming what his big boy’s just said. Dean smiles again before asking his dad to make him some hot chocolate and John smiles nodding. “Sure, Dean. I’ll just get Sammy up to Mom for his bath. Go watch your film and I’ll bring it through for you.”

He ruffles his son’s sandy blonde hair, watching him run back to the living room and replay his film before giving Sammy an encouraging squeeze.
“Go on then, Sammy. Go find Momma and get your bath so you can get lots of cuddles and say your sorries.” Sammy clings to him, shaking his chubby little face from side to side even as he yawns.
“I want you to give me my bath, Daddy.” He mumbles, starting to feel tired. John nods in understanding and carries the boy upstairs, depositing him in the bath to play while he finds Mary. Sammy doesn’t play with his toys, his big brown eyes drooping as he fights big yawns, and John reappears with an affectionate smile aimed at the toddler.
“C’mon then, Sammy. Let’s get your hair washed and get you in bed.”

Sammy doesn’t notice his Mom peek in the doorway for a moment before going downstairs to make Dean’s drink while John gets Sammy bathed and into his bedtime onesie. Sammy rubs his eyes, obediently tipping his head back when John tells him to and John skillfully washes the little boy’s hair, taking care to also clean behind his ears and his hands and grubby knees before lifting him out the bath and wrapping him in one of the fluffy towels. He carries his bundle of Sam to his room and helps him get dressed, happy to hear the sound of Mary slipping quietly into the room. John looks at her and nods, encouraging her to finish Sammy’s routine. He knows she often takes it to heart when their sons get upset; her heart’s just that big. He turns to Sam, wrapping the three year old in a bear hug which has the boy squealing happily before offloading him to his Mom. “Night, Sammy bear. Sleep well.” He drops a kiss to Sam’s forehead, brushing his damp, floppy hair aside.

Mary feels a bit worried as she watches John stroll out of the room, leaving her with a panicked looking toddler. “Momma?”
Mary blinks and looks at the toddler who looks down, playing with her long honey blonde hair. “Yeah, baby?”
“’m sorry I wunned away.” Sammy announcing sadly. “And I sorry I told Dad you hitted me… You didn’t. You… spankeded me. Daddy says that’s diffrunt.”
Mary smiles at her son’s childish honesty, nodding her head. “He’s right, Sammy. I would never hit you, but sometimes me and Daddy gotta spank you or Dean when you do something naughty. But that’s okay, sweetie, I forgive you. Do I get big hugs and kisses now?” She grins as Sammy dramatically throws himself at her neck, wrapping his arms round her and squeezing tight before landing a big sloppy kiss on her cheek. She scrunches her face up, thinking a kiss from a dog would be more hygienic but she knows she doesn’t really mind cause he’s her Sammy.

Half an hour later, when the giggles and squeals of the three year old and his mother have stopped drifted down from the child’s bedroom, John carries a sleeping Dean up to bed. Dean’s not been feeling too well this week, John knows, and so he doesn’t mind carrying the seven year old up to bed after he’s falling asleep; even though it’s half an hour after he usually goes to bed. Sammy’s tantrum’s affected the whole evening, but John’s just glad that everything seems to be sorted now. He stops in the doorway with his sleeping son in his arms, leaning against the doorpost. Mary looks up from her space on Sammy’s bed without stopping reading The Ugly Duckling to Sammy who is, by now, almost certainly fast asleep on her lap, his breathing even. They grin at each other for a minute as she closes the book, finishing the story, and both savor the peace.

The moment passes as both boys stir a bit, burrowing closer into their respective parents and the grins turn to soft chuckles as the couple turn their focus to their young family, shushing them back to sleep. As he heads along the hallway, John can’t help but smile at the sight he’s just seen, relieved that their cheeky little tiger hasn’t taken his mother’s scolding to heart; clever little thing that he is.

Home Run

Title: Home Run
Pairing: Mary, Dean (12), OC’s (both 12)
Scenario: Wee! Chester spanking
Plot: Based on the plot by Capricorn86:
“I`d like to read something from you where Mary spanks Dean with a hairbrush, so here`s a prompt for that:
12/13-year old Dean is playing baseball with a friend in the garden, and Dean accidently breaks a window. A furious Mary comes rushing out of the house, sends Deans friend home and takes her son inside. She gives him a firm scolding for breaking the window before going to fetch the hairbrush and spanking Dean. (wether Mary gives him a warm-up by hand and finishes up with the brush, or uses the brush for the whole spanking is your choice)
John could perhaps be out of town or something, so he`s not around to deal with it.”
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all, all belongs to EK and team!
A/N: I hope this is okay, not sure what you were hoping for so sorry if this is quite different… Brain’s exhausted after my exam today though, lol! Saving that other prompt, maybe, for returning to the comm. Cause that line is just priceless!

The sun was beating down on Dean Winchester and his friends Timmy and Mike as they tossed around a baseball in Dean’s front garden, making the most of the long weekend. Mary Winchester, his mother, appeared in the door way with a pitcher of ice cold lemonade, “Hey boys, I made some juice. Anybody thirsty?” The boys nodded enthusiastically, racing over to the front porch steps where she stood; Dean hitting the kitchen window as he threw the ball aside in his haste. “Dean Winchester! You know better than to be so careless.” Mary warned sharply, pinning him a stern gaze that had his piercing green eyes dropping away and his cheeks flaming.
“Sorry, Mom.” He mumbled, embarrassed to be scolded in front of his friends.
Mary nodded, letting it slide after a final, “Okay then, Dean. But this is your last warning, cause something’ll get damaged. We have a huge yard, so use it. Don’t keep throwing that ball so near to the house, especially not when your using the baseball bat too, okay?” Her voice had softened and she turned her gaze to look at the other boys for a moment; conveying the warning with her eyes. All three of the pre teens nodded sincerely and she relaxed, grinning at them. “Okay then, guys, drink up! If you don’t hurry up then Dean’ll drink the whole litre of this stuff.”
She winked at her son, smiling as he feigned offence and watching the boys joke and laugh with one another. Once the pitcher was empty, she retrieved the jug and glasses; not wanting to tempt fate by risking breaking some of her favourite glasses.
As she turned towards the house, she threw one final warning over her shoulder; knowing how prone Dean was to get carried away in the moment. Dean quickly shouted his understanding and the boys jogged off to a safe distance before returning to throwing the ball between them. Mary went back to her baking whilst making dinner, thinking she’s maybe ask if Dean’s friends wanted to stay for dinner and then she could run them home while she was picking Sammy up. She made fairy cakes while waiting for the chicken to finish its marinade in the barbeque sauce she was using to make barbeque chicken wings and cajun wedges with salad. As she was washing up the bowls and utensils she’d used in the baking, she heard the thud of what she suspected was a pall hitting glass. This was followed by some scuffling outside the window, followed by silence.
Mary shook her head with a sigh, trying to avoid going back outside to lay down the law. She hated giving either one of her sons into trouble; finding it nigh on impossible to withstand those puppy dog eyes that looked so lost and desolate when she scolded them. John was always better at staying strong and not falling prey to their please and petted lips. But, she reminded herself, John wasn’t here this week; wasn’t back till Monday ‘cause he was away at that reunion with some of his school friends. Mary sighed, missing the feel of the mechanic’s strong, sturdy arms encompassing her waist as she was washing up when he arrived home from work; the scent of motor oil and wood smoke mingled in with her favourite aftershave overwhelming her nostrils. The boys were good kids, and she loved seeing their sunny smiles and the cheeky way in which they interacted with their daddy at the mean table. Dean was full of quick quips and smart assed charm which both she on John often fought to find a come back to, whilst Sammy was constantly coming out with screeds and screeds of random yet fascinating information; some of which his family already knew but which they humoured him with none the less.
She was brought out of her musings when she heard a loud thud! Followed by the telltale sign of glass shattering and her son’s panicked, “Aw, shit! Fuck! Guys, help! What am I gonna do! Shit, shit, shit!” She dropped the whisk she was washing back into the sink before drying her hands on a dish towel and dropping it on the kitchen counter before storming outside, steeling herself for the coming storm. “Jonathan Dean Winchester! What did I JUST tell you about throwing that ball near the house?!” She demanded, grabbing a hold of his arm and landing three sharp swats to his backside that had him trying to twist away.
“Ow, fuc—I mean, fudge! Mum!” He whined, trying to covering up his recent swearing.
“And you can just cut that language out, young man. Right now.” She added meaningfully, holding his arm as she turned to his friends. “Boys, I need to have a little discussion with Dean. Unfortunately, he won’t be back out tonight, so I think you’d better just go on ahead and get on home. I guess we’ll see you some other time.” Mary explained to the boys, blue eyes still looking fierce. The boys nodded and uttered a few quiet apologies before quickly making their way down the drive and across the road on their way to the safety of their own homes and parents who didn’t know the window was broken; for now.
Once they were out of sight, Mary turned her attention to her squirming son, wishing more than ever that John was here to deal with their son’s blatant disobedience. She shook herself out of it; knowing that she had to deal with it or Dean’d think she was a pushover. This in mind, she turned him towards the house, landing a sharp smack to his shorts clad backside. “Inside, now. I want you to go straight up to your room and find a corner. I’ll be up soon.” Dean scampered off nervously, not looking like a happy camper. Good, she thought. Served him right for disobeying her again. Three times!
She took a deep breath to calm herself, enjoying the feel of the breeze blowing through her hair, wishing she could stay outside and enjoy it for longer. Instead, she sighed deeply and went to inspect the damage. She had to admire her son’s aim, fighting a grin at the way that Deano had managed to hit the dead centre area of the window pane; shattering the very middle of the window and creating a jagged outline right round it. She was no expert –that was John’s forte- but she could tell that there would be no fixing it of her own volition or covering it up. She was gonna have to phone John to ask which company she needed to phone. Her heart clenched at that, knowing her baby boy was probably gonna get a scolding off his daddy after facing his already furious momma and, though he didn’t know it yet, her big wooden backed hairbrush.
When she arrived upstairs, she collected the brush from her dresser table and made her way to Dean’s bedroom, relieved that Sammy wasn’t in to hear his brother –and hero- crying. She knocked quietly on the bedroom door before entering, shoulder squaring when she saw that Dean was not in a corner like she’d told him but was pacing round the room looking nervous. His eyes went wide when she entered, obviously expecting to recognise her footsteps as he usually did his Dad’s heavy tread on the stairs.
“Mom, I—”
“I asked you to wait in the corner. You disobeyed me again, Dean.” She cut him off, her hands on her hips. “I don’t appreciate the fact that you keep disobeying me, son. But, actions have consequences, and your behaviour won’t go unnoticed.” She continued, sitting down on his bed.
“But, I’m sorry, mom! I d… I didn’t mean to break the window, Mom! Sorry.” He mumbled quietly, and Mary could tell he was feeling guilty.
She sighed, “I know you are, Deano, I know.” She patted her lap, “Come here, honey.”
Dean dragged his feet, not wanting to face his Mom’s hand, despite knowing with certainty it would be much less than his Dad’s hard hand. As soon as he was within reach, she pulled him close; yanking his shorts and boxers down causing him to squeak in surprise before she eased him over her lap. Dean squirmed a bit, trying to get comfy, and Mary paused. She had been going to use her hand only, but given Dean’s constant disobedience throughout the day and his cursing like a sailor, she decided more firm measures were necessary. With that in mind, she set a furious pace of smacks to the lily white backside before her, flicking her wrist so that her hand snapped down on his backside, causing Dean to wince. She waited until he was kicking his feet and squirming on her lap, his breathing more laboured, then picked up the brush, letting the cool wood touch his already tender butt. Dean tried to squirm desperately away, trying to clutch his duvet cover as leverage.
“Settle down, Dean.” She warned, landing a flurry of sharp random swats on his backside with the hairbrush that made him bite his lip. She continued the onslaught despite his fussing, moving to land slap after hard slap on his tender sit spots and thighs which made him yelp and howl. At this, she paused. “Jonathan Dean, I told you on multiple occasions not to play with the ball beside the house because something would get broken. You disobeyed me all day, and now that window in the dining room is ruined and Dad’ll have to get it fixed. Not only that, but you know exactly what the rules are about swearing, young man!” With that she landed six hard smacks before continuing her lecture. “When I give you an instruction, I expect you to follow it. Not when you feel like it, but when I tell you to, down to the letter. This disobedience had better stop, or you are going to become one very sorry little boy, do you understand me?” Dean wailed his ascent, crying desperately. “Okay then, buddy, we’re nearly done…” Dean wailed pitifully when she tipped him forward and paddled his sit spots and thighs for a few more minutes before putting the brush down. “There, there, honey… All over now, Mommy’s got you…” She replaced his underwear and shorts before sitting him on her lap without pressure to his sore butt which had taken on a crimson hue during the spanking. Dean sniffled and cried before throwing aside his pre teen pride and burrowing into his mom’s arms; soaking up the comfort she offered with her perfume that smelled of spring and soft rose petals. “Come on, it’s okay now, Dean. Shhh…” She soothed.
Neither of them said anything for a while, but when Mary did she speak, she had fully returning to doting mother. “Hey, champ…” She soothed, brushing the sweaty cropped hair away from his forehead, “How ya feeling?”
“Sore,” Dean mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I know you are, Dee. And it’s all forgiven now. You’re gonna pay for that window to be replaced out your allowance, or at least part of it depending on how much it costs. And I think you need to phone Dad and tell him about it. But don’t worry, I’ll be there to speak to him too, okay? You’re also grounded for the rest of the long weekend so that you have plenty of time to show me that you do know how to give me the respect I deserve as your mother. Understood?” Dean nodded, accepting his fate.
She smiled at him, rubbing his nose in an Eskimo kiss that had him crinkling his nose and giggling much like his younger brother would’ve done. “Okay, up, up, up… I have some cake downstairs with your name on it, honey bee… You can phone your Daddy while I ice it and then I’ll save you from the lion’s den while you put away yet more food… How does that sound?”
Dean looked nervous about the upcoming call but not wanting to upset his mother further. They headed downstairs with Mary’s arm hugging Dean’s waist and she handed the phone to him, turning to the kitchen. She could hear Dean’s stammered, “Uhm, Hey Dad… I kinda need to tell you something… uhuh… Well, I, uh…” She listened as Dean quickly admitted his sins and heard the wince as his Dad gave him a scolding to rival her own; watching out the corner of her eye as Dean rubbed his but subconsciously, chagrin clear on his face.
“Uhuh, Mom dealt with it… Yeah, my butt’s real sore; she used her hairbrush, Dad! Yepp, I apologised to her… Okay, yepp, I understand… I get it, Dad! Ow, uhuh… No, please! I’m sorry! You don’t have to do that… Please?” Hearing her son trying desperately to backpedal, Mary decided to step in and do damage control, holding her hand out for the phone. Dean looked to her gratefully as he mumbled a sheepish goodbye and practically threw the phone at her. She grinned at how sheepish he was, and ruffled his hair, mouthing a well done as she caught the phone in her other hand, nodding that yes, he could have a cake now. Seeing the look of glee on his face, she giggled before shouting a quick, “Hey! I said one, don’t eat them all… If you eat ‘em all, you’ll be too fat to run away from Sammy when he gets home and finds all his cake gone!” She teased, turning back to the phone and feeling relief wash through her hearing John’s calm, solid voice on the phone. God, she’d missed that husky voice; it definitely made everything alright again in the world. For now.

Verbal Battles and Teenage Wills

Title: Verbal battles and teenage wills
Characters: John, Dean (17), Sam (13), Mike (OC)
Scenario: teen!chester spanking
Plot: Sammy's recently turned 13 and thinks he knows better than his dad. John doesn't agree, and after trying to treat Sam like a 'mature kid' for too long, decides to remind Sam who's in charge in the household.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Eric Kripke and his amazing team.
Author's note: I'm terribly sorry, it's been like 2 months since I last posted! I started this AGES ago, but was too lazy and busy to finish it. Thank you, Capricorn86 for chasing me up so I actually finished! I will try to post more again (still not convinced anyone actually sees this? LOL!)Anyway, if I rejoin the Comm next month (18 in... one month and 3 days! YAY!) then I'll get back into the swing of posting cause it's easier on the comm somehow. If anyone has any prompt suggestions/ideas, please message me with them? My inspiration is somewhat non-existent currently :( i also ordered season 1 of supernatural so i'm finally gonna watch it! YAY!!!!!! haha, rambling now cause i'm tired...

------------------------------------------------------SPN

Samuel Winchester was grounded. Again. Well, not properly. He was still allowed to read, and to play the play station that Pastor Jim had bought the boys for Christmas as a joint present last year. But the thirteen year old hated how his dad laid down the law with the whole early bedtime thing. It was ridiculous. Dean wasn’t sure who found it more difficult, Dad or Sammy.
John Winchester, meanwhile, was wondering the exact same thing as his eldest son. Ever since he’d grounded the new teen for repeatedly breaking curfew and failing to complete his chores, Sam had become progressively more moody and bratty as the three week grounding progressed. So far, John and Dean had suffered two weeks of Samuel’s bitching, and John was quite frankly trying to work out just why he hadn’t busted Sammy’s ass right when this started. He sighed as the phone rang, heading to pick it up, “John Winchester.”
“Hi there, Mr W. Is Sammy there?”
“Oh hey, Billy. Yeah he is, I’ll just get him for you.” John knew his son would be glued to that damned games thing that Jim had given them. He strolled into the living room. “Sam, phone. It’s Billy.” He handed it over before making his way next door to the kitchen, giving his son some privacy, to an extent.
“A games and pizza night at yours on Thursday? Awesome, Billy! What time? Okay, I’ll totally be there!!”
John raised his voice loud enough to be heard through the door, “Nuhuh, Sam. Grounded, bud! You’re not going.”
He heard Sam swear huffily, “Shit! Man, I can’t come… Sorry. Why? Cause Dad’s a stupid dickhead…”
Sam flinched when his Dad stormed into the room and started unplugging the game controller as Sammy watched on in horror. Before he could utter a single word though, his Dad pulled the power on the Play station and turned to Sam, “Time to say goodbye to Billy, kid. And make it fast.”
With that, the father strolled out with the controllers, leaving his somewhat shocked son to say a hastily mumbled goodbye to his friend. When John returned, he could see awe and fury warring for dominance in Sammy’s eyes. “Dad, I didn’t even get to save it! You’re such a jerk!”
John had been trying to remain patient and understand with his son, but that was enough. “Yeah? Well you’re damn lucky that I didn’t bin the whole thing! Now, where’d you hear that language?!”
Sam pouted defiantly and John sighed, “It’s bed time, Samuel.”
At this, Sam jumped up, “What?!” He whined, “It’s only eight though!”
John raised his eyebrows sternly and Sam sighed before scampering upstairs to his dad’s promise he’d be up to say goodnight soon. John shook his head tiredly as his son left the room, sinking down onto the couch to calm himself. He needed a beer, as soon as his son was in bed. Dean was at the movies with some friends, so he wouldn’t be home for another hour or two, leaving John to face his moody son alone. He glanced at his watch, noting that he’d wasted ten minutes on the couch, doing nothing. He briefly considered taking his son a hot chocolate as a compromise since he couldn’t go out with his friends this week, but almost immediately cast the thought aside; remembering his son calling him a dickhead and jerk in the space of three minutes, a growl rising in his throat. Little brat. Usually, Sammy didn’t swear hardly at all, always the academic who knew how to express his feelings in a more… appropriate manner than, say, his brother who had cussing like a sailor down to an art. John frowned, a niggling feeling that Dean could have been giving Sammy some impromptu vocab lessons making itself known in his gut. He shook the thought from his mind; sure Dean wouldn’t add fuel to Sammy’s fire in this latest bratty phrase.
John stood up with a sigh, pushing his hand absentmindedly through his hair before crossing the room to shut the curtains of the house they were staying in. They’d been able to maintain a semblance of normality for seven months now; Sammy building friendships with some local kids and Dean flirting with the local gals. Now that Dean was 17 and almost finished school, John was able to travel further on hunts without uprooting the boys so much. John’s only regret in this set up was the way he and Sammy had started to slowly drift over time cause he wasn’t there when his son’s science projects were unveiled sometimes, or when Sammy was in the county spelling bee, and the father knew he was paying for it more and more as Sam reached his teens.
John stretched with a yawn, before making his way upstairs to check up on his son. He knew that Sam was probably gonna try give him the cold shoulder, again, resigning himself to having to face his son’s bitchface –as Dean called it— again; too tired for a battle of wills with the kid. He ascended the stairs slowly, the tread of his boots easily recognisable to his son. He heard scuffling as Sammy scrambled about his room, and knocked whilst hoping his son had actually obeyed him for once. He entered to the sight of Sam sitting in bed, his textbooks open as he quickly wrote answers. Homework? Seriously? “Samuel, that better not be what I think it is.” He warned calmly, wanting to face-palm or whatever it was Dean was always saying, at how difficult his child was.
Sam, meanwhile, was looking at his Dad like a rabbit caught in the headlights; hastily trying to think up an excuse for not having finished his homework. “Uh…”
Great job, Sammy. He thought to himself. He’s never gonna know you neglected your work for computer games now… Fuck.
“Sam.” John pressed. “That’s homework, isn’t it?”
“I…”
Sam could think of no realistic explanation to his lack of work, and he trailed off as John stepped towards his son with a frown, reading the work over his shoulder. He could hear his father’s foot tip-tapping on the floor and he tried not to squirm in the silence that followed. Eventually, John sighed, holding his hand out for the school books which Sam made no move to hand over. “Sam, it’s bed time. You know the score when you’re grounded.” John prompted his son, sternly. “You can finish this in the morning; I’ll wake you up early. But you can rest assured those controllers aren’t coming back for a while.” He lifted the textbooks from his son’s bed, placing them on his desk across the room, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Listen, Sammy…” John began, rubbing his hand across his face as he tried to find the right words to say to his son. He was rubbish at these emotional moments; that had always been his wife’s strength, but he took a deep breath, knowing his son needed one now. “I understand that you want to go out with your friends, and want to play computer games and go on trips and have fun; every teenager does. But you really gotta’ shape up. School work; chores; they come before fun. You’re growing up now, you need to try being responsible so I know I can trust you when I’m gone on hunts. And rules are there for a reason; so while I know you want to go to Billy’s on Thursday, it’s not happening. You need to follow curfew so that you can be trusted to go and have fun. I put a curfew in place for a reason, Sam, for your safety. I can’t look out for you if you’re wandering around at night without me knowing – you know the things that roam the streets at night, it’s not safe. I do it cause I love you, Sammy, with all my heart, but you gotta start showing me I can trust you, or all you’re gonna be seeing is the inside walls of this house for a while to come.”
“Whatever. It’s not Sammy, it’s Sam.” He muttered huffily, turning away from his Dad in what looked to John suspiciously like a tantrum. He sighed in frustration, before standing up.
“Alright, Sammy. If that’s how you want to be.” Before John could lean over to ruffle his son’s hair or give him a hug, Sammy rolled over to glare at him
“God damnit! I already told you it’s not fuckin’ Sammy!”
John reacted before Sam could stutter an apology, rolling Sammy to the side so his pyjama clad backside was visible and landing a handful of stinging smacks to his backside before letting go. “You better drop the attitude, Samuel. Right now. And I better now hear you swear at me ever again, kid. Get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”
John left the room, figuring his son needed time to calm down just as much as he did. Sam watched as his father closed the door behind him; angry, guilty tears filling his eyes. He dashed them away angrily, willing himself to stop being such a baby. You’re thirteen now, Sam. He told himself, willing his tears away as he curled himself into a ball. He managed to aim his anger at his father for not hugging him after spanking him; even if it had only been a few smacks – nothing compared to John Winchester’s usual tough love approach. He slowly drifted off to sleep thinking about his dad’s hugs and the way he used to play with his hair as he fell asleep as a kid; knowing it was safe to go to sleep so early cause his dad’d look out for him so he wouldn’t miss anything.

------------------------------------------------------------------SPN

“Wake up, buddy. C’mon, you have work to finish. Samuel… Get up.” John woke his son up, smiling affectionately at the boy’s protests muffled by his duvet. “Hey, come on. You were the one who left the homework till the last minute. Up!” John announced cheerfully, opening up the curtains to let in the sunlight.
Sam pouted at him, not liking his liveliness. “Not fair… Waffles?”
“Sure, buddy. Get your work finished before you come down.”
He headed down to make breakfast, country music playing as he pottered around the kitchen, making Sam’s favourite. Sam appeared an hour later looking tired and disgruntled; yawning widely as he sat down to breakfast. John ruffled his son’s floppy chocolate brown hair, reading the paper as Sam practically inhaled his waffles. “Did ya get your work done?”
Sam grunted noncommittally, and John (foolishly) took that as the teenage version of yes. “Okay, you ready to go out? I’ll see you this afternoon, okay?”
Sam got his school bag and headed out, Dean appearing moments later with his hair gelled perfectly and his swagger intact. His grunts, however, were at least as non-communicative as Sam’s, if not worse. “Go on, you’re gonna be late. I’ll see you this afternoon, okay? Keep an eye out for Sammy…”
“Dad, please.” Dean scoffed, “I always look after that little bitch.”
John smirked, “True, true. Alright, cut the language. But have a good day, I’ll see you later.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------SPN
John was fixing the suspension on a car at Moe’s garage where he’d been working for months, when his colleague, Mikey appeared, phone held out to the Winchester. “Phone for you, Johnny.” He announced cheerfully. John looked at him questioningly as he reached for the phone after wiping his hands on a rag cloth to clean them. “School. They don’t sound happy.” He grinned cheekily as John punched his bicep before groaning and grabbing the phone.
“Winchester.”
Mikey watched as John’s confusion turned to a frown and he wandered off while listening to the irate man on the other line. After a few moments, John strolled back over, handing the phone back. “I gotta go down to the school to pick Sam up. He’s not done any homework assignments all week, and he’s been bitching at his teacher all day over everything. I doubt I’ll be back before closing time, But I’ll stay in late on Wednesday to make up for it. Can you finish this suspension for me? If not I’ll do it tomorrow.” Mikey could tell the father of two was both angry and upset with his son, and he nodded his understanding, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger.” John grimaced.
“Oh, I’m gonna get him. See ya later.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------SPN
John held the door for his son as the boy quietly got out and headed towards the house, looking subdued. John could understand why the kid was being so quiet, considering how livid his father had been when they’d left the school. He winced as he remembered how he’d slammed the door when he’d gotten in the car, telling Sam not to talk till they got home. “Straight to the kitchen table when we get in, Sam.” John ordered quietly, letting his son lead the way into the house. When John arrived in the kitchen, he didn’t waste time scolding his son; deciding to try and treat him like a grown up. “Get your work finished. You’re grounded for another week, so you can catch up. Your teacher agreed to give you extension to catch up, but I expect one assignment every night if not more. I know this isn’t you, Samuel, I’m real disappointed cause you normally try your best. I’ll check on you soon, but I want to see some progress on your work. Okay?”
Sam nodded silently, staring at his notebook and the textbook lying open on the table.
“Okay then, I’ll let you get started. Shout me if you need a hand with anything.” John squeezed his shoulder before heading into the room that served as a sort of study for him. Sam sighed sadly before getting to work, hoping Dean wouldn’t show up until he’d finished this shitload of work.
His hopes were of course dashed an hour and a half later when Dean traipsed through the kitchen door, greeting his brother jovially. “Hey Sammy.”
“Fuck up, Dean. It’s Sam!”
“Samuel!”
Sam glared at his brother with venom when he heard his father’s sharp warning sound from the other room.
“Woah, calm down, Princess. Lot of work then I take it?”
“Seriously, Dean, fuck off and leave me alone! You jerk!”
“Alright, alright, bitch. Calm down!”
“Boys!” John Winchester appeared in the doorway, looking unimpressed. “Dean, leave your brother alone and go get your homework done. Go.” Dean beat a hasty retreat, wincing as John called up the stairs, “And sort the language out before I do it for you!” When Dean was out of sight, John turned to his youngest with a stern glare. “I have now spoken to you multiple times about your language over the past week. What is going on, kid? You never talk like that, so who taught you those words?”
“None of your business.” Sam answered with a pout.
“Samuel.” John pressed. “Last warning.”
“You’re so… shit. It doesn’t even matter! You’re such a jerk!”
John was by his son’s side in a flash, pulling him out of his seat by his arm and leading him to the stairs. “Get your ass up to your room and don’t even think about leaving it.” John growled, landing three hard swats to the jeans clad backside. Sam scowled before racing up to his room, muttering a bunch of curse words while he was at it. John sighed heavily, dragging a hand over his face. That did it; that boy was long due one hell of a spanking. He stood for a moment, trying to calm down whilst also deciding if he should use a paddle or something on the kid. Maybe a hairbrush? Eventually he decided against it; choosing instead to deliver one hell of a hand spanking to remind the kid that he was just that, a kid, and also to show his little boy who was boss around here. He checked his watch: fifteen minutes had passed. Time to go face the lion’s den. He set off up the stairs with a determined stride towards his waiting little troublemaker.
----------------------------------------------------------------------SPN
John popped his head round Dean’s door. “Head’s up. He’s going over my knee, and I know you hate hearing me turn his lily white ass red, so if you want you can go get dinner? You can take the impala as long as you’re careful.”
Dean nodded gratefully, standing up and heading for the door. John made his way up the corridor towards Sam’s room, turning when he head his son call his name softly. “Hey, dad?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“What am I picking up?”
“You can choose.”
“Okay, don’t hurt your hand too bad.” John could hear dean’s underlying tone: Please, don’t hurt him too much, Dad. He nodded once more before turning back to Sam’s room, knocking once before entering at the quiet, “Come in.” He walked straight to Sam’s bed, sitting down beside the boy and looking him in the eye.
“You calmed down now?” He asked him quietly. Sam nodded silently, and John nodded before continuing. “Sam, you’ve been pushing all the boundaries this week. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Sam shook his head, biting his lip now.
“Sam, that wasn’t a question. Tell me or I’ll tell you why.”
Sam shrugged noncommittally and John sighed, frustrated. “Fine, Sam. If that’s how you’re playing it… You’ve been a brat the past few weeks, and to be frank, I’m fed up of it. You’ve been rude and disobedient, and you’re growing way too big for your boots. I get that you’re thirteen so you want to be independent now you’re a teenager and I respect that, but outright disobeying orders? Samuel Winchester, you damn well know better, young man! You know the rules in this house, and you also know the consequences. I give you rules and curfews for a reason, and I expect them to be followed without all this back chat. You may have turned thirteen, but you are still a child – my child! And you do what you’re told. You understand me?” John scolded, pulling the boy to stand between his spread legs as he was speaking. Sam squirmed uncomfortably; face red as he blushed furiously at his dad scolding him like he was eight years old again.
“But Daa—aaad…”
“No, Sam. Do you understand?” Sam nodded sadly, knowing what came next but still trying to maintain his newfound tough guy act.
“Whatever.”
John raised a stern eyebrow at his son, before nodding decisively. Sam let out a surprised squeak when John yanked his yeans and underwear down, before lifting up and over his lap; wrapping his left arm around the squirming backside before him. He raised his right hand, bringing it down with a hard slap that made Sam go rigid. Another followed. And another. He increased the strength of his swats a bit more, deciding to make a fast impression to the little boy over his lap. The increased strength and tempo had their desired effect and within fifteen more swats, Sam was squirming and kicking over his Dad’s lap much more noticeably as the creamy coloured bottom turned first a dusky pink before taking on a reddish glow.
“Ow! Daddy! Please stop! I’ll be goo—owww!—ood!” Sam wailed eventually, trying to escape the punishing strength of John Winchester’s forearm. John ignored the plea verbally, though his heart clenched at the pained cries of his youngest. Sam’s butt was now looking a painful shade of red, and John steeled himself before moving on to Sam’s sit spots and thighs, landing a number of extremely powerful whacks to the area that caused Sam to yelp and cry in his pain, big tears finding their way in hasty tracts. “Pleaaase! I’m sorrrry!” John nodded to himself, moving back to the meatier part of Sam’s backside, deciding it was time to finish up.
“Okay, Sammy, you going to be a good boy from now on? Gonna do what you’re told and respect your elders?” Sam nodded desperately, crying to himself. “Then we’re nearly done, young man.” With that, John landed thirteen sharp swats to Sam’s sit spots before stopping. He began to rub soothing circles on the boy’s back, hushing him softly, while silently hating himself for what he was going to do now. When Sam’s breathing had calmed down some more, John replaced the underwear before pulling the jeans off and replacing them with Sam’s pyjama bottoms since the kid was going to be getting an early night. He stood Sam in front of him, tilting his head up so he was eye to eye with the boy. “I’m sorry, Sam, I shouldn’t have left it so long before dealing with your behaviour the last few weeks. I let you away with far too much, including your language. I’m gonna deal with the cussing like a sailor like I would with Dee. So, unlucky for you, you get three minutes with the soap bar, and you’re getting corner time while it’s there. Stay there, buddy.”
Sam’s tears had been rekindled at his Dad’s decree but he obediently let him place the soap in his mouth before guiding him to the corner, squirming uncomfortably as he sobbed to himself. After what felt like an eternity, John collected his son from the corner and led him to the bathroom, allowing him to rinse his mouth out for as long as he wanted to; surprised when his arms were suddenly full of Sammy. He swept the boy up so he was holding him, his arms supporting Sam’s weight but being careful not to add extra pressure. He pulled Sam’s head down to rest on his shoulder, holding him tight as sobs racked Sam’s body.
“Hey, hey… Shhh… It’s okay, Sammy bear. Dad’s got you. I forgive you. Come on, it’s okay now. Everything’s okay.” He made his way downstairs, sitting down on the couch in the living room and sitting Sam on his lap; careful to keep the pressure off the boy’s backside which he had no doubt was feeling pretty sore just now. Sammy sighed contentedly as he burrowed his face in his dad’s chest, breathing in the scent of wood smoke and motor oil.
Dean returned to the scene of one very sorry bottomed, sorry, and repentant little boy curled up on his dad’s lap half asleep, eyes heavy. “Hey guys, I brought Chinese.”
Sam lifted his head blearily, a blinding smile lighting up my features. “My favourite! Aw, thanks, Dee! Thanks, Daddy.” Sam smiled at him shyly and John grinned.
“No problem, Tiger. Let’s eat.” He made a move to stand up, but Sam didn’t help him with that; firmly rooted on his Dad’s strong thighs. John and Dean exchanged another fond grin, before John nodded at his son, agreeing to eat on the couch.
Dean smirked, “So… I brought movies too.”
Sam grinned excitedly, “Movies?!”
“Uhuh. Die hard, which is too old for you—”
“And you.” John added with a grin.
“Whatever, Dad. Anyway, I also brought Starwars cause I figured Sammy might quite like that one.”
For a moment, they briefly worried that Sammy would explode in his happiness, and John settled back on the couch with a sigh, Sammy plastered to his chest as the boy leaned back against him, sheltered against his dad. Dean dished out the food before popping “A New Hope” into the VCR and sitting down on his dad’s other side and flopping back against him. The father grinned as Dean hit play on the remote and reached over to ruffled his hair.
“Love you guys.” He murmured to them quietly as the credits began to roll up on the screen.
“Course, Dad. Love you too. Now shhh…” The boys answered in unison, and John fought the urge to laugh. It fits, he mused; whipped by technology, guns and science.

Acting like we're animals.

Title: Acting like we’re animals.
Pairings: Dean, Ben (7), Lisa (mentioned), Sammy (mentioned), John (mentioned), OC’s for storyline, Bobby (mentioned) and Mary (briefly mentioned)
Plot: Dean goes as a parent assistant on a school trip with Ben’s school and has to deal with his son wandering off and disobeying multiple times after Ben is put in a different group to his dad.
Disclaimer and Warning: I own nothing, ALL belongs to EK and team minus OC’s. Contains spanking of a child by parent.
Author’s Note: Sorry I’ve taken so long to update! After all the drama with the community issues and my laptop charger breaking and having to wait on a replacement, I’ve not done much writing of late. Partly lack of inspiration, partly having no access to my trusty Microsoft Word, ha! Anyway, enjoy if you read! (Don’t even know if people will see this as I always used to LJ cut at the community… Oh well!)

Benjamin Braeden Winchester was a popular kid, and he knew it. He had inherited his father, Dean Winchester ’s ability to, for want of a better word, bullshit his way through almost and situation. Well no, that wasn’t true: almost any situation not involving Dad kicking his ass. This was a fact that often managed to escape him, and he often found himself over his Dad’s knee getting his butt warmed for being cheeky or misbehaving; something which very much sprung from his inability to stay focussed on things, especially at school. Like today…
Ben’s class was going to the local zoo; all thirty seven year olds with two teachers from school and a parent helper in the form of Ben’s Dad. Ben was excited: he hadn’t been to the zoo before and now he was getting to go with Dad and could show him all the animals they were learning about in their class topic! Excitement turned to outrage when they arrived at the zoo and Dean was assigned to a different group of ten to Ben.
“No, Mr Mitchell! I wanna be in Daddy’s group!” Ben’s protest was immediate; his father’s shocked frown quick to follow.
“Ben, we already explained that the group’s were decided before your dad joined but you aren’t to be in his group. Now, come on. We’re wasting time.”
“NO!” Ben screeched, stamping his foot with a venomous glare at his teacher.
“Ben!” Dean barked in warning. “Don’t be so rude!”
At his son’s defiant glare, Dean beckoned to his son, “Come here, bud.” His order was quiet but dripping with authority and his son reluctantly went over to his father, put still in place, and Dean mentally groaned before leaning down to talk to his son’s ears only, “Listen to me, little guy. You do what your teacher tells you to do down to the letter, because” Here Dean caught his son’s eyes and held them firmly, “if you don’t, I will spank you. Doesn’t matter if people are there or if I find somewhere private, but your Daddy will spank you until you can’t sit down and then you’ll be going to bed early this week to sort your attitude problem. You will also get a spanking when we get home if I have to spank you here. Your choice, buddy.” He watched his son’s eyes go wide as his temper subsided. He got that temper from Lisa, Dean was sure. She was just as fiery when she wanted to be, He mused with a suppressed smirk. Ben thought for a moment before nodding, and Dean returned the nod before standing back up with a squeeze to the boy’s shoulder before giving him a nudge towards his group, “Go on then. See you at lunch, Ben.” He watched his son begrudgingly trail off with his group still pouting and sighed, hoping Ben would actually listen to him for once and heed his warning.
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“Benjamin.” Mr Mitchell called as part of the head count before they entered the Lion enclosure. No answer. “Benjamin? Benjamin Winchester!” The dark haired teacher let loose a frustrated sigh as he realised that the child had wandered off. Again. It was the third time since they’d started this trip, and the man was losing patience. Damnit, he should’ve let the brat stay with his father after all. Kid deserved to get a smack or two for these ridiculous disappearing acts and his general spoiled child routine. “Kids, stay right where you are.” He instructed, “I’ll be doing another register in one minute.” He smiled at them before getting out his phone and ringing the other teachers and Mr Winchester in turn. “Mr Winchester?”
“Please, it’s Dean. What’s up?”
“Sorry, Dean. But Ben’s wandered off again. It’s the third time he’s wandered off from the group and while I know I’m not meant to let the parent assistants’ act as parents to their kids on trips, I’m at a loss of what else I can do to make him listen, short of a possible suspension.”
He winced at Dean’s angry muttering, “I see. Can we all meet up so I can find him? I’m gonna kick his disobedient ah… backside.”
“Sure, where are you guys? We’re just outside the lion enclosure. We were going to take a look around before the show in twenty minutes so if you come meet us we’ll be here for the show in any case.”
“Great, I’ll be there.”
Dean hung up and dragged a hand over his face in frustration, shaking his head and how damn foolish his son was. Never mind disobeying him, the kid had put himself in danger; something he damn well know earned him an ass blistering that would have him wailing. Dean sighed, counting to ten before turning back to his group. “Okay guys, it’s time to go look at the lion enclosure before the show soon. Anybody fancy that?!” He grinned as the kids yelled enthusiastically nodding. “Okay then, let’s just check we’re all here and then we’ll get going.” After confirming everyone was present, he lead the children to see the lion’s before heading off to find his son after depositing them with the teacher and speaking to Mr Mitchell and Miss Flynn briefly. It didn’t take long to find Ben who was standing at the seals looking amazed. Dean watched him for a moment, sighing as he saw his son turn and panic flitted across the younger upon realising he was alone.
Yeah, Dean thought, He would panic. He knows he’s either gonna get hurt or I’m gonna kick his fuckin’ ass. With that thought, Dean stormed towards his son, “Benjamin Samuel Braeden Winchester! What the hell are you doing here away from your group?!” As Ben turned wide guilty eyes to his, Dean reached his son and grabbed his arm in a tight grip. “I told you to stick with your teachers and do as you were told, young man! And you disobeyed me, I don’t believe you! Everybody’s worried about you, this is unfair to them.” He looked his son in the eye. “What the hell, Ben?”
“D-D-Daadd, I—” Ben stammered.
“In fact, save it.” Dean growled, reminding himself of his own father in similar situations.
He began towing his son back to the school group, ignoring the child’s whines of protests. When Ben went like a dead weight against his Dad though, yanking his arm back, Dean paused long enough to pull the child up into his arms and began carrying him towards their destination. At first, Ben let his Dad carry him without much fuss but after a few moments he began to squirm, pushing against his dad and hitting his hands off Dean’s chest as he tried to gain leverage. “Stop that right now, little boy.” Dean growled, raising his eyebrows when the boy foolishly ignored him. “Fine then,” He muttered, “If that’s how you want to play it.” And with that he placed the seven year old down and leaned over, swatting his backside hard four times as they arrived back at the group before bending down to speak to his son firmly, “You are going to stay in the site of an adult at all times. I don’t want to hear any back chat or arguments. We are already going to be having a chat when we get home, but I am warning you to behave and be the exact image of an angel. If you even take one step out of line, I’ll spank you right where you are. I mean it this time, Ben. You better shape up, and right now young man. You understand me?” Ben’s face had gone a nice beet red (just like his bottom soon would be), and he was squirming with small embarrassed huffs escaping his mouth, but he valiantly gave a small, rapid nod even as his father scolded him in front of the other kids.
“I said, do you understand me?”
“Yes! Sir. I-I mean yes, sir…” He mumbled. Dean nodded and took his son’s hand, leading him back to Mr Mitchell to apologise.

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“Ben, go on up to your room. I’ll be up soon. I want you to go and think about your behaviour today.” Dean instructed his son quietly, his underlying anger and disappointment laced into his calm words. Dean watched his son drop his bag on the floor before shuffling off to his room and sighed. He rarely got to go on school trips with his son as he worked part time at his friend Bobby’s garage which was about an hour away from where he and Lisa lived, also meaning he often didn’t get home until dinner time or after on weekdays so rarely got to see his son apart from just before bedtime and weekends. He knew that Ben had just wanted to spend time with him, excited by the prospect of getting to spend the day with his Dad showing him off, but there was no way that Dean’d condone his son disobeying him and disregarding his own safety so blatantly. No, John Winchester had drummed into his boys from a young age that if there was one thing you never did under any circumstances, it was disobey a direct order. He sighed again, once more rubbing his hand over his face in the same familiar gesture that his father had always used. God, he wished Dad was here to deal with his son’s disobedience instead of him. But Dad wasn’t here anymore… Only in his and Sammy and Bobby’s hearts. He let himself dwell on his father: his anchor and protector and tower of safety. The safety net who wouldn’t take no crap, and who didn’t mince his words. The man who had been so haunted after Mom had died when Dean was four. Sure, life hadn’t been easy growing up but he’d known what to expect from his Dad when he fucked up. Much like Ben needed to know what to expect from Dean now. The car ride home had been tense, with Ben pouting and staring out the window with his arms folded as he kicked the seat and Dean too annoyed with his son to say much. He knew that it had been nothing compared to how it would have been had he been Ben facing his Dad, and he was also painfully aware that his dad would’ve pulled them over to the side of the road and spanked Dean, or Sam had it been Sammy, for kicking the impala’s upholstery in a tantrum. His heart clenched, as well as his buttocks, as he remembered the biting sting of that small, stupid paddle that John had kept in the glove compartment which had been able to produce a wickedly fierce sting for something so small; in fact, Dean and Sammy both often agreed that it was more to do with John’s mean swingin’ arm than the piece of wood.
Dean shook his head, smiling at the memories of he and Dean being dragged over their Dad’s knee and being soundly paddled before being sat back on their sore bottoms for the remainder of the journey in order to make them shut up and behave. Knowing he’d made his son wait long enough from looking at his watch, he decided to text his gal quickly before heading to Ben’s room.
‘Hey baby. How was your day? Head’s up; you might wanna take your time coming home, and pick up pizza. Ben likes pizza. Or we could make fajitas or do a BBQ. He’s gonna need it. Anyway, take your time coming home, Ben and I need to have a little discussion and I know you don’t like being around for them. See you in a while. xx’
He checked the text before hitting send, smirking as he acknowledged to himself (and only himself!) that Lisa had softened his tough guy act a little bit. Cause seriously, who put kisses at the end of texts?! He did. Damn though, only for Lisa. Ha, it was a funny world, he thought. Deciding he’d stalled enough, he made his way to Ben’s room and knocking once before entering the room and making his way straight to Ben’s bed. Sitting next to his kid, the father looked Ben in the eye, “So, you wanna explain to me what on earth you were playing at today, buddy?”
“No?” Ben mumbled petulantly.
“Ben…” Dean warned.
“Daad!” The boy whined.
“Ben, I won’t ask again. If you don’t answer, I’m just gonna tell you why you did it. Either way, we both know how this works. So, I’d appreciate it if you answered my question, please.”
“I wanted to spend time with you. And that stupid Mr Mitchell wouldn’t let me and it’s not fair!”
“That’s not an excuse. You know I expect better behaviour and that I won’t take the kind of bad behaviour you showed today. I won’t put up with you being naughty, Benjamin. Come here.”
With that, Ben found himself being gently placed over his dad’s lap, his jeans sitting at his knees. Dean knew his Dad would’ve yanked the underwear down as well, but the younger father just couldn’t do it; knowing his son had wanted to spend time with him made it too hard to be that strict. He lifted his arm high and brought it down hard on his son’s backside with a resounding slap, moving with brisk efficiency from the top crest of his son’s butt to the tops of his thighs; painting the area a bright, angry, painful red. Ben kicked his legs from the onslaught, trying to wiggle away from his Dad’s solid forearm and determined swing. “OWWW! Da-aaddy!” He yelped after a few minutes. “STOOOOP!”
“Can the attitude Ben, this is your own fault. You don’t disobey me, Ben. Especially not when, like today, it could put you in serious danger. Anything could have happened. This better never happen again.” With that he increased the strength of his swats as he tipped his son forward a bit, laying into his sit spots with fourteen hard swats. Ben wailed as he cried onto his dad’s lap. Den swept Ben up into a hug and rubbed his back, soothing the little boy with quiet tones like he knew Dad had always done for him. He sometimes wondered if his son’d be so high maintenance if Dean had always been there with both his parents around. But then again, Dean had turned out alright, so maybe Ben’d be the same. He sure hoped so.
For now though, he waited for his beautiful gal to come home with some Dominos’; walking his little boy round his bedroom and rocking him in his arms to calm him down knowing he was tired from his big day out.

Daddy's work ain't no excuse, finnito.

Title: Daddy’s work ain’t no excuse.
Pairings: John, Mary, Bobby (mentioned), Dean (16, nearly 17), Sammy (12)
Plot: John gets called away on a business trip for his and Bobby’s garage and Mary ends up struggling when trouble ensues at home mid trip.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Eric Kripke and team :)
Warning: Contains spanking(s)
Author’s Note: This is the full (3ish?) parts of this story. Unfortunately (and down to my own ditsy-ness), I will be unable to post on the spn comm. Page where I have previously been posting as there was a miscommunication cause I swear my brain doesn’t work properly and so, I will be only posting here until June when my birthday allows my return (I hope.) Anyone who’s been reading my fics there;please read here and anyone who knows anyone who reads them, feel free to let them know as I can’t. Thanks!

Mary Winchester tucked a strand of her honey blond hair behind her ear as she made her way into the bedroom she shared with her husband of 23 years, John Winchester, smiling indulgently as the man she loved glared at the mirror, looking blankly at the tie in his hand. John was being sent to Chicago on a business trip for the garage that he and Bobby Singer, a family friend of theirs, owned alongside one another. The trip, starting today, would last all week, with John hoping to secure some cars to sell and to buy some new tools and equipment for the garage that they’d recently upgraded the land of as part of a big revamping after a grant from the government. John had agreed to go, even though he couldn’t stand the business man lifestyle, and usually left these things to Bobby. Sadly, Bobby couldn’t make it for the week as he had family commitments after work on Wednesday night as it was his cousins’ wedding anniversary and they were going out to celebrate. So John had balefully agreed to go along, trying not to show his disappointment at having to spend a week away from his family.
The wife couldn’t help but fix her husband with an indulgent smile as he struggled with the dress time, mumbling a steady stream of curses when it continued to elude him how to knot it. “Here, honey. Let me get that for you…” She murmured; crossing over to him with a fond smile.
“I just don’t get the point in these damn things – so much nonsense…” He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. Mary giggled as she threaded the Windsor knot around his neck, turning his shirt collar down as she pulled the knot up to sit at his neck.
“There, you look wonderful. As always. Mwah!” She planted an overly dramatic kiss on his cheek before giving him a hug. “I’ll miss you this week…” Her husband sighed, kissing her silky locks.
“I’ll miss you too… I’ll go wake the boys up, hey?” He smiled at her, that devilish smile that made her insides flip around and curl up, making a soft glow rise on her cheeks as she nodded with a soft grin. “Good luck with that.” She teased, giving him a light shove towards the landing at their sons’ bedrooms.
She watched as her tall, lean husband made his way to their eldest’s room, knowing it’d take longer to get Dean up. Ever since he’d passed his driving test, Dean had taken to staying out increasingly late with the car and until recently John had imposed strict guidelines on car use and curfews that would have made his own strict father, Henry, real proud. Though he was now hitting curfew perfectly, he was still sleeping like a lead rock in the mornings, much to John’s frustration and Mary’s amusement. Glad she wasn’t left with the difficult task; Mary decided to make her move downstairs to check on the waffles she was making for the men of the house as a special treat. With that in mine she made her way downstairs humming along to herself.

“Hey Deano,” John nudged his nigh on seventeen year old son to wake him up, smirking as the boy groaned and rolled over. “Dean, come on… You gotta get up for school, buddy.” Silence. “Dean? Dean Winchester, you have ten minutes to get out that bed, or I’ll be draggin’ you out it.” John warned his son with a chuckle at the boy’s accompanying groan. With that, he went in search of his youngest.
“Morning, Sammy!” He woke the boy up cheerfully, ruffling his floppy bangs out of his eyes with a fond smile to the twelve year old. “Time to get up and ready for school, Tiger. Did you sleep well?” He sat down on the edge of Sammy’s bed as he woke the preteen from his slumber, smiling as Sammy groaned in the same manner as Dean had; blinking bleary eyed as his gaze found his father’s and he nodded around a huge yawn before his eyes flickered open and his gaze found his father’s much more solidly. John watched in wonder as Sam’s gaze quickly turned to a glare with the biggest pout the father of two had seen in years, leaving the ex marine beyond confused. “Sammy?” He questioned his son’s accusing look. “Hey, buddy? What’s going on?” John tried to hug his son who crossed his arms and resisted before shocking his confused Dad more.
“You’re not going.”
“Excuse me?”
“You ain’t going on your trip ‘cause I don’t want you to…” Sammy explained, looking at John like he was stupid. John bit back a sigh – they’d discussed this before many times since John had explained he’d be away with work for a week. “Samuel, we’ve discussed this before. I need to go on this trip, and I’ll be back soon. Now, you need to fix your attitude about this – I expect you to behave for your Mom while I’m away. The rules still apply, and if you break them the consequences stand. I’ll phone you every night as well, how’s that?” Sammy looked doubtful for a minute before looking up at his dad with wide eyes.
“You promise?” He asked uncertainly, “I just… I don’t want you to go.” The brown haired child practically whined, hugging his dad with a frown.
“I promise, buddy. Now, come on; if you don’t get up soon you’ll be late and we can’t have that. Waffles for breakfast today…” He winked and grinned as the kid’s eyes lit up and he scrambled out of bed. While his son went to the bathroom, John returned to his eldest’s room. “Dean! Come on! I told you it was time to get up, kid…” He pulled Dean’s duvet back, landing three swats to the kids’ backside to wake him up, sighing when he got his desired response as Dean jumped up with a glare.
“What the hell, Dad?! I’m up… you can’t just do that!” The teen whined, rubbing his butt as he yawned.
John smirked, “Whatever. I just did. Come on, get ready. If you’re not ready by twenty to nine, I will bust you ass. We clear? Good.” He smiled, “See you downstairs, bud.”

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It was Wednesday morning and John Winchester was once more staring blankly at his hotel room mirror, trying to remember how to tie up this damn confangled tie! If only Mary was here, he mused. She’d set him right. After another five minutes, John threw his hands up in frustration. “Damn impossible material!” He muttered, grabbing up the hotel phone and dialling home, “Mary Winchester. How can I help?”
“Hey, Mair.”
“John! Honey! How are you?! We miss you so much! I thought you were at a gala day?”
“I am. Well, meant to be… I can’t get this damn tie done up again…”
He listened to Mary’s gentle explanations as she talked him through the method for tying ties, and he once more told himself he’d learn how to do it himself for times like this when Mary wasn’t around to save his ass. “Thanks, honey. How are the boys?”
“Dean’s doing great. He’s really stepped up while you’ve been gone and is doing a great job being the man of the house and helping me with all the little jobs. He’s helping me get Sammy ready in the morning, and he even picked up the shopping for me yesterday. Sammy’s… struggling a bit. He misses you a lot. He’s doing okay though, aside from a few wobbly moments where his attitude got the better of him. We’ll be just fine though. How are you getting on?”
John noticed that his wife sounded tired; more tired than he could ever remember hearing her aside from when she’d just given birth to their two bundles of joy. He didn’t think on it too much though, assuming that it was just the added stress of having to deal with everything herself. After fifteen more minutes of chatting and catching up, the couple said their goodbyes and hung up, each going to face their respective days; not knowing quite what to expect while apart.

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Dean made his way downstairs towards the kitchen to ask his mom if he could go round to his friend Mark’s house to play on the boy’s new Sega games console for a while. He was confused to arrive in the room to the sight of his mom washing the pots from dinner. “Hey, Mom.”
She turned to smile at him, “Oh, hey honey.”
“Why are you doing the pots? I thought that was Sammy’s job tonight after his not doing his chores this week while Dad’s gone?”
“Yeah, well…” She sighed. “He went out. I told him he had to do them and his other chores before he went out to play with his friends, but he didn’t listen. He stormed out and grabbed his bike and was gone before I could say anything. I’ll be having words with him when he gets home, which better be within the bounds of his curfew tonight cause he’s got school tomorrow.”
“What? That… brat!” Dean growled, very much like his father sounded when annoyed, before relenting after a moment. “Hey, do you want me to do that for you? I was gonna go round to Mark’s to play games and spend time with the guys but I don’t mind doing this first.”
Mary leaned back towards her son while continuing with the washing up, and Dean took a few steps towards her to give her a hug, grinning with a blush as she kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve been sticking to the rules and doing what you’re told. Just make sure you’re home by your curfew. Is all your homework done?”
Dean nodded and then stopped, shaking his head as he remembered an essay he had for history. “No. Aw man! I forgot I had an essay to do… I’ll do that first and see how much time I have. Love you!” Dean dashed upstairs and his mom felt an overwhelming pride at her son’s honesty. At least one boy was doing what he was told. She sighed; she hadn’t expected it to be Dean who was so helpful for her throughout the week of John’s trip. She heard the sounds of Bon Jovi drifting down the stairs and she shook her head with a smile. That would be Dean’s essay started then. She finished in the kitchen and went through to the living room to read, sitting in the big rocking chair that had been her Grandmother’s.

Mary opened her eyes with a yawn. She must have dosed off to the sounds of Bon Jovi and slept through the phone call from John cause he’d been phoning at the same time every night this week and the clock read forty minutes after that time. It was half nine and Sam still wasn’t home yet, and the mother was far from impressed. It looked like he was heading the right way towards getting himself grounded at this rate. She went to make herself a cup of team, noting silently that Dean’s music had gone on to AC/DC, leading her to wonder just how his essay was going. She’d have to go up and check on him soon, knowing what his attention span was (or wasn’t as the case may be…)
She was brought of her musings in the kitchen as Sam entered the house through the screen door in the kitchen; his cheeks rosy and his hair windswept. “Samuel Winchester, just where do you think you’ve been? It’s half past nine, you’re curfew was at nine!”
“Aw come on, Mom… I’m only half an hour late… Besides, I was out.”
“Samuel. I don’t care whether your five minutes late or fifteen minutes late. The fact still stands that you broke your curfew – a curfew which is there for your own safety and protection! You are twelve years old, and your attitude this week has been outrageous. Do you really think your father would accept this back chat and rule breaking?”
“Whatever, Mom. Dad’s not here so it don’t matter…” Sam made his way to the fridge and the milk carton out, drinking straight from the carton which all the men in the family knew Mary loathed.
“Sam! Where are your manners?! Get a cup, for goodness sake!” She exclaimed, frustrated. “Other people have to drink from that carton.”
“My God, mom. Get over it, already! You’re so fucking annoyi— Ahhhhh!”
Dean had, amazingly in Mary’s mind, heard his little brother’s disrespectful tone towards their mom as he came downstairs for a snack, and had rushed down to curb his brother’s mean words. If there was one thing that John Winchester had taught his sons, it was that you never ever disrespecting a lady; especially not Mom. With that in mind, Dean had stormed downstairs, feeling something click in him as he heard his brother swearing at their shocked Mother. He grabbed a hold of the twelve year old’s arm before his sentence was even finished and pushed him so he was leaning over the table, swatting him hard. Sammy let out a yelp as his jeans fell to his knees at the hands of his brother, and suddenly the swats became all the more noticeable.
Mary could do nothing as she stood watching the scene before her in shock, watching as Dean delivered spank upon crisp spank to his little brother’s backside and ignoring his brother’s whine and yells of protest. “Owww, fuck! Deeeaaan! OW! Sto---oohp!” He whined, trying to squirm away from his brother’s punishing hand; quickly finding out it was futile since his brother had grown muscle in the last few months and was now on the football team, as well as trying some basketball and going running with friends. Sammy couldn’t help but wonder whether his butt hurt as much from Dean’s spanking as Dad’s. No way… Not possible! But it hurt! And he vaguely heard himself, shouting out a screeched, tantrum-filled, “I haaate youu! Lemme go-oh-oh-ohh!” Dean kept slapping the round backside before him for a few more moments until he heard Sammy sniffling and saw his brother’s shoulders slump in wake of the tears he had given into moments before. He peeled back his brother’s briefs slightly – why did Sammy even still wear briefs? Boxers were way better—. He winced at the fire engine red colour of his brother’s butt before shaking his head. Good. Served the damn brat right for being so immature and bratty…
“Sam, it’s past your bedtime. Go on up and get ready.” Dean instructed quietly, feeling a twinge of guilt when Sammy’s huge chocolate brown eyes filled with tears before the boy scampered upstairs and slammed his door.
Dean turned to his mom as soon as Sammy had left the room, “Mom, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to undermine you but I heard him disrespecting you and I just…” He trailed off, unsure what else to say to explain how sorry he felt.
Mary sighed and tilted his chin to look at her, “Hey now, calm down… It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay. You did exactly what your Daddy would have done if he’d said that to me when Dad was home. I appreciate what you did; he wasn’t listening to me and he was just gonna get nastier before I got control of the situation. I’m really proud of you, Dean, you’ve been so grown up this week and you’ve made the whole week so much easier for me. Okay?”
Dean smiled at his mom, his piercing green eyes bright at the praise he’d been given. She continued, “I also think it’s up to you to deal with the rest of this now you’ve started. We won’t tell Dad, so long as Sammy starts behaving better, mm?” At Dean’s nod she smiled. “Okay then. Now, did you finish your essays for tomorrow yet?”
Dean’s smile turned to a frown, eyes wide and pale. “…Uh. Well, you see…”
“Dean, did you finish them?” Silence. “How much have you actually done?”
“Uh, maybe… Maybe half? Or something… I was doing it honest! I just… I got a bit distracted on my guitar and… Sorry mom.”
She sighed, “You were doing so good as well, buddy. Okay, you know how this works… Your Dad’s not here so I guess it’s down to me.” The teen nodded and leaned across the table, his boot-cut Levi’s sitting mid thigh as his Mom collected a wooden spoon from the drawer. He grit his teeth as she landed 32 smacks, mainly to his sit spots before setting the spoon on the table and fixing his jeans, pulling him up into a hug. “Homework comes first, Dean. In fact, your guitar stays in mine and Dad’s room until Dad gets back, understand? I don’t want you getting distracted again.”
Dean struggled not to break into protest at his mother’s decree, and she found herself proud of his restraint. “It’s only two days, sweetie. And maybe there’ll be a jail break for good behaviour, hmm? I’m really proud of you Dean, your behaviour’s been so mature and sensible this week and you’ve done Dad so proud. I love you, sweetheart.”
Dean nodded before heading upstairs to talk to his little brother who he knew would still be feeling emotional from getting spanked. He knocked on the door, entering his baby brother’s room to his find his little brother standing in his room still fully dressed, sniffling. “Sammy, I thought I said you were to get ready for bed. Come on, go get your teeth cleaned and get changed.”
Sammy glared at his brother, “Get out! I hate you! You’re my brother, you’re meant to be kind and back me up!”
Dean returned his brother’s glare twofold, “Yeah? And you’re meant to respect Mom and act your age. You hurt her feelings, Sam, what did you expect me to do? Now, quit the tantrums and get ready for bed.”
Sam remained defiant; waiting a moment before muttering something he didn’t think his brother would hear, “Fuck you, Dean.” Unfortunately for him, his voice was kind of whiney and high pitched and Dean pounced on his brother, dragging him to the bed and over his lap. He yanked his brother’s jeans down and started landing heavy swats to his backside, trying to ignore his brother’s squeals of protest. “You don’t ever talk to your elders like that, Sammy! Would you say that to Dad? No. So don’t say it to anyone else!! You’ve been such a jerk this week. You’ve totally disobeyed Mom. You’ve broken your curfew every night this week. You’re not doing your chores. And you’re being cheeky like a five year old. But it stops now, little brother.” Dean began swatting again. “You’re gonna start respecting mom like dad taught us to, or I’m gonna spank you again. You get me?”
“Oww! Ow! Ahhhh! Yesss! Yes, sir! Pleaaaase, Deeee!” Sammy burst into tears and Dean landed a few more swats before stopping. He rubbed his brother’s back after checking his backside was okay. Cherry engine red this time, but still exactly what bratty pre-teens deserved their bottoms to look like… “There, there… I’m all done. You’re just fine, buddy. Just tired…” Dean helped his brother to stand and helped his brother into his pajamas, seeing that Sammy was looking more than a little lost. “There.” Dean ruffled his brother’s hair before pulling him into a bear hug. “One other thing? Tomorrow, you ain’t going out to play. You go to bed when I tell you to go to bed or we repeat this. And, you’re gonna do your chores to perfection from now on, okay?” Dean accepted Sammy’s slight nod, feeling his protective instinct kick in as he helped his brother lay on his stomach and continued rubbing his back soothingly until the twelve year old was asleep. He then returned to his room and sat down to finish his essay, trying to ignore the dull throb in his own ass. He hated spankings, and history. Why couldn’t his essay be on damn pizza so all this could be avoided? He sighed.

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“Hey Mary.”
Mary sighed in relief at the sound of her husband’s voice. It was Thursday evening, and Mary was beyond ready for her husband’s imminent return. “John. Hey. How are you? How long till you’re home? We’re missing you so much, honey.”
John smiled at his wife’s sentiment. “I’m doing okay thanks, ready to come home. It’s been a long week and I’ve had some tough deals to draw a close to and spin in my favour. But I think we’ve gotten some good deals and that we’ll be able to kit the garage out pretty good by the looks of things. How about you guys?”
“Well, it’s been a long week… We’re plodding on though. Dean’s got a basketball match tomorrow after school, I think so we’ll maybe go along to that. Sammy’s been really missing you a lot, I think. Dean too, but he’s coping better. Sam struggled with his chores a bit the last couple of days, but it seems okay now. It’s just so tiring not having you here to get the boys to bed or to get them up for school, and I don’t have someone to fire up the barbeque at the moment. It’s weird… When will you be back?”
John smiled, “Good to know I’m missed for the important things…” He teased. “I think I’ll be home by Saturday afternoon at the latest, I can’t wait to see you again! Is Sammy there? I promised I’d phone up and chat to him while I was away…”
Mary groaned. She’d been hoping this wouldn’t happen, knowing that Dean had made his baby brother go to bed at eight and it was now half nine so Sammy’d be asleep. She hadn’t expected Dean to take such a… prominent adult role in his brother’s life: the boys were incredibly close, and usually if one was causing trouble there’d be an issue with both because they’d protect each other to the end. It often drove John insane having to dish out additional swats or reprimand to the child who shouldn’t be in trouble, but it also made both parents overwhelmingly proud. They’d told Dean right from the point where Mary had discovered she was pregnant with Sammy that he needed to protect his little brother and look after him and keep him safe, cause that was something that big brothers did. And, of course, Dean had taken to this task on with great pride. “He’s actually kind of in bed, sorry honey…”
“In bed?”
“Yes, bed.”
“Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?”
Mary winced inwardly once more. “He’s just had a long couple of days.”
John sighed, “Okay. Well, I’d better go if Dean’s out at practice too. A few of us are going out for some beer tonight, so I’d better get ready. Tell Sammy I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Love you, hon.”
Mary smiled, “Love you too. Have fun tonight!”

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Sammy stood in the kitchen drying the dishes from dinner while his Mom pottered about in the garden and his brother mowed the lawn. The evening sunshine was shining through the kitchen window, and Sam was starting to wish he could have gone out there to join them, but he was playing it safe after Dean spanking him yesterday. His butt still hurt from the spanking yesterday, and he dejectedly picked up the last of the crockery to dry it and as he placed the last plate away he heard the familiar sound of his dad’s pickup truck pulling into the driveway. “Dad!!” He shouted, excitedly, rushing in the direction of the front door. John appeared in the doorway, duffel in hand, and Sam grinned as he threw himself at his dad. He began chattering animatedly to his father, glad to have his wise, immovable presence back. Dean appeared a few moments later. “Sammy, you need to go get ready for bed buddy.”
Sam turned to his brother, indignant, “Screw you, Dean! Dad’s only just got home!”
“Sam! Bed, now. I’m not gonna warn you again not to push it.”
Sam glared at his brother a moment longer before hugging John once more and trudging upstairs looking baleful. John watched the confrontation, bewildered, before turning to Dean. “What on earth?”
Dean sighed, before explaining to his Dad everything that had happened the day before and the events that had led up to the older boy spanking his little brother. When he was done, John dragged a tired hand over his face, muttering a “Give me those damn ties any day…” before heading up to find Sam. He wanted a family night tonight; watching films and chilling out. He couldn’t wait to feel Sam’s comfortable weight cuddling against him as they watched Star Wars and Sammy explained why the physics of it was all wrong. And instead he had to speak to his unruly child? No… They were going to have their movie night.
Sam entered his bedroom with his hair wet from the shower he’d taken and was surprised to find his dad sitting on his bed. “Sammy, I heard about this weekend. What did I say to you right before I left? I’m pretty disappointed in your behaviour while I was gone. However, your brother already dealt with your cheek last night. With that in mind, I’m merely going to say this: you’re grounded for the next week so I can keep an eye on you. A side consequence of this is you’ll have to spend the time with me. Starting tonight, we’re all having a movie night; come on.” He explained to his son, grinning at his son’s immediate cheering up as he ruffled his hair and pulled him into a big hug. And with that, both Winchester men made their way downstairs; John’s arm around Sammy’s shoulder. Dad was home.

Daddy's work ain't no excuse.

Title: Daddy’s work ain’t no escape.

Pairings: John, Mary, Bobby (mentioned), Dean (16, nearly 17), Sammy (12)

Plot: John gets called away on a business trip for his and Bobby’s garage and Mary ends up struggling when trouble ensues at home mid trip.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Eric Kripke and team :)

Warning: Contains spanking(s) –not in this part.

Author’s Note: Part two to follow (I’m too tired to keep typing just now, Lololololol!) Hope it’s okay, been playing around with it in my mind for a few days so thought I’d give it a bash. Ps, still looking for prompts if anyone has any – PM me please! Running out of ideas and fast!!

Anyway, enjoy!

Mary Winchester tucked a strand of her honey blond hair behind her ear as she made her way into the bedroom she shared with her husband of 23 years, John Winchester, smiling indulgently as the man she loved glared at the mirror, looking blankly at the tie in his hand. John was being sent to Chicago on a business trip for the garage that he and Bobby Singer, a family friend of theirs, owned alongside one another. The trip, starting today, would last all week, with John hoping to secure some cars to sell and to buy some new tools and equipment for the garage that they’d recently upgraded the land of as part of a big revamping after a grant from the government. John had agreed to go, even though he couldn’t stand the business man lifestyle, and usually left these things to Bobby. Sadly, Bobby couldn’t make it for the week as he had family commitments after work on Wednesday night as it was his cousins’ wedding anniversary and they were going out to celebrate. So John had balefully agreed to go along, trying not to show his disappointment at having to spend a week away from his family.

The wife couldn’t help but fix her husband with an indulgent smile as he struggled with the dress time, mumbling a steady stream of curses when it continued to elude him how to knot it. “Here, honey. Let me get that for you…” She murmured; crossing over to him with a fond smile.

“I just don’t get the point in these damn things – so much nonsense…” He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. Mary giggled as she threaded the Windsor knot around his neck, turning his shirt collar down as she pulled the knot up to sit at his neck.

“There, you look wonderful. As always. Mwah!” She planted an overly dramatic kiss on his cheek before giving him a hug. “I’ll miss you this week…” Her husband sighed, kissing her silky locks.

“I’ll miss you too… I’ll go wake the boys up, hey?” He smiled at her, that devilish smile that made her insides flip around and curl up, making a soft glow rise on her cheeks as she nodded with a soft grin. “Good luck with that.” She teased, giving him a light shove towards the landing at their sons’ bedrooms.

She watched as her tall, lean husband made his way to their eldest’s room, knowing it’d take longer to get Dean up. Ever since he’d passed his driving test, Dean had taken to staying out increasingly late with the car and until recently John had imposed strict guidelines on car use and curfews that would have made his own strict father, Henry, real proud.  Though he was now hitting curfew perfectly, he was still sleeping like a lead rock in the mornings, much to John’s frustration and Mary’s amusement. Glad she wasn’t left with the difficult task; Mary decided to make her move downstairs to check on the waffles she was making for the men of the house as a special treat. With that in mine she made her way downstairs humming along to herself.

“Hey Deano,” John nudged his nigh on seventeen year old son to wake him up, smirking as the boy groaned and rolled over. “Dean, come on… You gotta get up for school, buddy.” Silence. “Dean? Dean Winchester, you have ten minutes to get out that bed, or I’ll be draggin’ you out it.” John warned his son with a chuckle at the boy’s accompanying groan. With that, he went in search of his youngest.

“Morning, Sammy!” He woke the boy up cheerfully, ruffling his floppy bangs out of his eyes with a fond smile to the twelve year old. “Time to get up and ready for school, Tiger. Did you sleep well?” He sat down on the edge of Sammy’s bed as he woke the preteen from his slumber, smiling as Sammy groaned in the same manner as Dean had; blinking bleary eyed as his gaze found his father’s and he nodded around a huge yawn before his eyes flickered open and his gaze found his father’s much more solidly. John watched in wonder as Sam’s gaze quickly turned to a glare with the biggest pout the father of two had seen in years, leaving the ex marine beyond confused. “Sammy?” He questioned his son’s accusing look. “Hey, buddy? What’s going on?” John tried to hug his son who crossed his arms and resisted before shocking his confused Dad more.

“You’re not going.”

“Excuse me?”

“You ain’t going on your trip ‘cause I don’t want you to…” Sammy explained, looking at John like he was stupid. John bit back a sigh – they’d discussed this before many times since John had explained he’d be away with work for a week. “Samuel, we’ve discussed this before. I need to go on this trip, and I’ll be back soon. Now, you need to fix your attitude about this – I expect you to behave for your Mom while I’m away. The rules still apply, and if you break them the consequences stand. I’ll phone you every night as well, how’s that?” Sammy looked doubtful for a minute before looking up at his dad with wide eyes.

“You promise?” He asked uncertainly, “I just… I don’t want you to go.” The brown haired child practically whined, hugging his dad with a frown.

“I promise, buddy. Now, come on; if you don’t get up soon you’ll be late and we can’t have that. Waffles for breakfast today…” He winked and grinned as the kid’s eyes lit up and he scrambled out of bed. While his son went to the bathroom, John returned to his eldest’s room. “Dean! Come on! I told you it was time to get up, kid…” He pulled Dean’s duvet back, landing three swats to the kids’ backside to wake him up, sighing when he got his desired response as Dean jumped up with a glare.

“What the hell, Dad?! I’m up… you can’t just do that!” The teen whined, rubbing his butt as he yawned.

John smirked, “Whatever. I just did. Come on, get ready. If you’re not ready by twenty to nine, I will bust you ass. We clear? Good.” He smiled, “See you downstairs, bud.”

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It was Wednesday morning and John Winchester was once more staring blankly at his hotel room mirror, trying to remember how to tie up this damn confangled tie! If only Mary was here, he mused. She’d set him right. After another five minutes, John threw his hands up in frustration. “Damn impossible material!” He muttered, grabbing up the hotel phone and dialling home, “Mary Winchester. How can I help?”

“Hey, Mair.”

“John! Honey! How are you?! We miss you so much! I thought you were at a gala day?”

“I am. Well, meant to be… I can’t get this damn tie done up again…”

He listened to Mary’s gentle explanations as she talked him through the method for tying ties, and he once more told himself he’d learn how to do it himself for times like this when Mary wasn’t around to save his ass. “Thanks, honey. How are the boys?”

“Dean’s doing great. He’s really stepped up while you’ve been gone and is doing a great job being the man of the house and helping me with all the little jobs. He’s helping me get Sammy ready in the morning, and he even picked up the shopping for me yesterday. Sammy’s… struggling a bit. He misses you a lot. He’s doing okay though, aside from a few wobbly moments where his attitude got the better of him. We’ll be just fine though. How are you getting on?”

John noticed that his wife sounded tired; more tired than he could ever remember hearing her aside from when she’d just given birth to their two bundles of joy. He didn’t think on it too much though, assuming that it was just the added stress of having to deal with everything herself. After fifteen more minutes of chatting and catching up, the couple said their goodbyes and hung up, each going to face their respective days; not knowing quite what to expect while apart.

-To be continued! (It’s late here and I really need to get some sleep! I’ll try update tomorrow, promise!) It also won’t quite be what you’re expecting probably, haha!

Fast Lane to Pain (Part Four)

Same details as before for the other parts to this fic though less swearing/angst/spanking!
I own nothing, all belongs to EK and team!

Well, here's the ending... Hope you enjoy and that it's not a really rubbish ending :/

-Ruth


Eventually the door to the bedroom opened slowly, revealing a teary, red eyed Mary who threw herself into her strong, safe, protective fortress and cried once more. “Oh Mar… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for scaring you. So sorry… I just needed to think through everything and get some space to calm down… I didn’t mean to scare you, or hurt you or upset you. Please, forgive me Sweetheart. I love you…” John whispered to his wife, cooing her to calm her down.

“Oh John… John… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you, and I’m so sorry I called your parents… I was just so scared about Dean and then when it was all for sex… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. We both made mistakes, but we’re okay… Maybe it’ll help if we just talk about it without the kids here to intervene?” John suggested, heading into their bedroom with Mary and shutting the door behind them.

Dean stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the tap. As he turned the tap off, he felt his pocket vibrate, and his hand automatically moved, retrieving his phone to reveal a text from Rosie. He opened it to read:  “Hey, I’m really sorry for getting you in so much trouble on Thursday. My parents are so angry at me, they’ve grounded me for a month, and my laptop and everything’s gone. And they won’t let me out their sight :( they’re so annoyed at me for mistreating you and almost sleeping with you on our first date, especially with no protection. I’m so sorry, hope we can still be friends and stuff, ya’know? ;) xxx”

Dean smiled as he replied, “Hey you. No, it was totally my bad! I shouldn’t have let things get so far on Thursday… I know what you mean though, my mom screamed at me last night for us almost having sex and disrespecting you and she’s not spoken to me since and…” Dean paused, “And my dad spanked me so fuckin’ hard.:( I hate it when they do that, it’s so painful! I’m grounded for ages, but I’ll speak to you at school on Monday? xxx”

“Sure, I miss you… xx”

“I miss you too, but I can’t text now or my Dad’ll probably take my phone cause I’m in such deep shit just now… :( see you soon! xx”

Dean put his phone away with a sad smile; at least he knew she was safe though it sucked that they were both in so much trouble for this. He sighed, at least his phone hadn’t been confiscated, yet. Dean returned outside to Sammy, tackling his little brother with a grin on his face as Sammy got the ball back and went to shoot at their make shift goals as Dean tried to defend.

After another two hours had passed, Dean and Sam came into the kitchen covered in sweat but grinning and laughing together, Dean’s arm thrown loosely round Sammy’s shoulder as he squeezed it softly. They walked in to the sight of John and Mary standing in the kitchen, two tall glasses of juice in Mary’s hands. “Here you go, guys.” She handed the juice over, smiling as Sammy took the drink with a cheerful thank you before heading off upstairs to shower. Dean, however, froze, looking at his mother with a major deer in headlights look on his face and a blush creeping up his face. He scuffed his foot nervously before taking the offered drink with a mumbled thanks. For a moment the trio stood awkwardly before John cleared his throat, “Dean, your mom needs to speak to you, buddy.”

Dean shook his head, “No…”

“Dean… That’s rude. I want you to be mature about this and speak to her, okay? What she has to say is important.”

“No, but Dad…”

“No buts, kid…”

“Look, I get it! I let you down, I disappointed you. I get it that you can’t stand being around me just now and I’m just a failure and such an idiot. I get it. I don’t need to be told that again…”

“Dean!” John chastised his son sharply before softening at the look his wife gave him, “Look, please just give her a chance... I’m gonna go collect the pizza with Sammy. See you guys soon.” John hugged first Mary with a quick kiss to her cheek before giving Dean a quick hug and a whispered suggestion to ‘be good’ before leaving mother and son alone as he collected his freshly showered youngest and led him out of the house.

For a moment, neither Dean nor Mary said anything for a moment and Dean stare at the floor, his face burning. Eventually Mary sighed and spoke quietly, “Deanybop? Honey?” She opened her arms to her son who, much to her relief, ran straight into them, hugging her tonight. “Oh, baby boy. My precious little Ace, Momma’s got you… I’m so sorry, Dean. So, so sorry, please can you forgive me? I was just so scared, when I thought I might have lost you or you could be hurt; I was so scared thinking something could have happened to my Champ, and I just freaked… I didn’t mean what I said last night, baby. I didn’t. I was still just so shaken up, and I’m sorry for how much it hurt you. I’m meant to protect you, not hurt you. Don’t mistake me, you made some poor choices on Thursday, we both know that. And I was upset by your choices, but you’re a good boy Deany. You don’t disrespect for the sake of it, or purposefully hurt people. And I know you wouldn’t do that to some girl. I need you to make better choices in the future, but I’m not mad. I love you so much, sweetheart. SO much! Please forgive me?” She asked after her confession, tears sliding down her cheeks as Dean burst into tears.

“Of course I do, Mom. You were right! I was such a jerk this week and I broke the rules and I didn’t think about how I might get her pregnant and I—”

“No, you didn’t,” Mary cut him off gently but firmly, brushing hair away from his forehead as she looked him in the eye, “And you better not be so foolish again, baby. But, everybody makes mistakes. And it’s time to start forgiving yourself and putting this in the past, okay?” She explained quietly.

“Uhuh… But, Momma? I think I need another spanking first… For being so bad…” He whispered, looking petrified.

“Really? Well I don’t. You were well and truly punished last night and I’m not gonna punish you no more. Your daddy told you’ve got more bedtime spankings to come, but that may change if you behave like the very epitomy of an angel for the next few weeks, you understand?” Dean nodded, a shy smile playing at his lips as he hugged his Mum close. Mary smiled and nodded, “Good!” before resting her head on Dean’s shoulder and just hugging him. As they hugged and let all the tension drain away, small talk slowly began between them and before they knew it, they were drying each others’ tears gently and lovingly. “Right, mister. Get on up those stairs and get a shower before our movie night tonight. Go on…” She instructed, giving him a gentle swat to get him moving.

When Dean reappeared a half hour later, there was enough pizza to feed a small army (which there might as well be when Dean and Sammy were eating!” and there were smiles being shared around the table. The parents got out soda and ice cubes, along with the pizza and desserts and sweets; putting them down in front of the TV as they sat down to an X-Men movie marathon, discussing their favourite mutants and who would win in a mutant war

At half one, John turned the TV off and he and Mary headed up to bed, leaving their slumbering boys sprawled on the couch looking more like eight year olds than teenagers. The next day, the couple let the kids sleep in till eleven before waking them up with the announcement that they were going out for a family day come picnic (even though this meant missing church, which they could do this once), and the boys got ready faster than John and Mary had seen in a long time. John carried hampers and picnic rugs and cups and supplies and toys and sports stuff out to the car, and as Mary joined him outside while they waited on the boys, he twirled her; giving her a tug towards him so that she fell into his chest with a giggle. As she reached the target John had planned, he leaned down to kiss her with a smirk, hugging her close and taking time to breathe in her scent. Yeah, he mused as the boys came bounding out with hoots and carrying on and lots of grins; they’d be just fine, his little family. Just fine, he thought with a smile as they headed out on their journey.

Fast Lane to Pain (Part Three)

Characters: John, Mary. Dean (16), Sammy(12)
Plot: Same plot, same people... Just continuing with the aftermath of Dean's little late night escapade... Mary makes her disappointment know to Dean; Both his bottom and his back, and John tries to think of how to get his family past the mess of Dean's poor choices. John also ends up in his own trouble.
Disclaimer: Still own nothing, all belongs to Eric Kripke and team! 
Author's Note and Warnings: Contains spanking of teen and swearing. Also contains some angst and crying. I'm not sure if I like this part or not, it's a bit more angsty than I tend to write :/ Let me know what y'all think, please, because I'm really a bit irritated by it. There's probably one part to come: the make up and fixing of loose ends and stuff. 

Enjoy!

Dean cried as each fiery hot spank of his Mom’s hand against his already burning butt landed, but fortunately (depending on whom you asked), it didn’t last long. Mary wasn’t into spanking the boys, she found it too emotionally strenuous, and so it was only for the worst of offences that she would spank them, or for trivial things that only required quick spankings like when they had been little children. She spun the offending backside away from her, glaring fiercely into the watery green orbs before her. Dean sniffled, biting his lip, and Mary took a deep breath, trying to clear the red from her vision. “Dean Winchester, I am so disappointed in you. I thought that we raised you better, raised you to treat others with respect and dignity. And you repay that faith by sleeping around?! Sex isn’t just some game, Dean, damnit! It’s special, and it matters! It is important, and it is something you save for the person you wanna spend your whole life with. You are sixteen, little boy, and I can’t believe you would be so stupid! You are too young for finding ‘the one’, Dean, and you need to get your brain in gear instead of using your downstairs brain that apparently has such a high IQ!” Mary’s voice was hitching and shrill, and her eyes were full of unshed tears, showing her anger and disappointment. “I am hurt that you acted to imply girls are just objects, Dean. What if you’d gotten her pregnant by not using protection?! You’re ready to be a dad now, huh? At sixteen? Dean, you are not ready for a kid. I need some space now, I think, but I sure hope you learn some respect because I am shocked by the way you treated poor Rosie.” With that, she looked pointedly at John, inclining her head towards his belt.

“No, Mary…” John interjected, realising what she was telling him to do.

“John, he needs to learn!!” Mary exclaimed, tears falling down her cheeks in anger.

“Mary…” John paused, turning to his son, “Dean, get your butt in a corner and don’t even think about moving until I give you my express permission, you got me? Good, on you go.” John reached out and ruffled his son’s hair silently as Dean scampered across the room and into a corner facing away from his parents not bothering to replace his underwear or pyjama bottoms; his shoulders shaking from the flow of tears slipping down his cheeks and his nose running, with his bright red and thoroughly fiery orbs on display. John sighed and turned back to Mary, nodding towards the door. “I’m not discussing this in front of Dean. Come on, hon.” John led his wife down to the couch in the lounge, before getting her a cup of tea and joining her. “Mar… I get that you’re upset and I understand why, but you have gotta calm down, sweetheart. Have you not seen how tender his backside his already? I already gave him a thorough spanking, and believe me, he’s feeling it, but I ain’t using my belt on him. Not when we’ve both already spanked him, and hard.”

Mary sighed, “Fine. I guess you’re right. He’s had enough for tonight. But he’s going to bed early the whole time he’s grounded. And you better do something to teach him a lesson in respect. Women deserve better, John.” Mary was speaking in a whisper, and as she finished, she burst into tears, hugging her husband and sobbing. “I was so scared, John. I thought I’d lost him, thought he was gone or hurt or dead; I thought I’d lost my baby! But then it turned out that I just lost my baby’s sweet innocence.” Mary cried a bit longer before dosing off to sleep as John held her, kissing her head softly. He left her cuddled up on the couch, placing a blanket over her, before returning to his son’s room.

He stood in the centre of the room and cleared his throat, “Dean…” John got his son’s attention quickly and Dean spun round, running full speed to his Dad despite his pyjamas being halfway down his thighs; throwing his arms around his Daddy and clinging on tight as his sobs shook his frame. John sighed as he wrapped his arms around his son, feeling worried by the strong emotional response that his son normally made sure to avoid. “Hey now, calm down, baby… Daddy’s got you…” John’s voice rumbled gruffly. “I know that what you did was stupid, but this’ll all be okay, Ace. Come on, Champ… I’m right here, I’ve got you. Deano, I need you to listen to me, kiddo. I’ve spoken to your Mom, and now I’ve decided that this is your only bedtime spanking of this week. You’re gonna get one bedtime spanking a week until your three week grounding’s up. However, you and I will be talking extensively about responsible driving, and I’ll be taking you out in the car after the three weeks to make sure you know how to drive responsibly. And, we will be discussing the right ways to treat girls now that you’re growing up. I suspect we need to have another sex talk too, though I hope you won’t be trying that stunt again anytime soon in the next few years. Hmm, deal?” Dean nodded through his tears, hugging further into his Dad’s brought chest. John returned the nod, steering them both towards the bed and sitting down, pulling Dean down to sit on his lap and cuddling him soothingly; holding him safe. Eventually, Dean cried himself to sleep, and John gently fixed his clothing before laying the teen down on his bed and tucking him in before quietly making his way to Sammy’s room to check on his youngest.

Sammy was lying on his bed, cuddling his pillow tight to his chest as he cried silently, and John’s heart broke at the sight. He didn’t say anything, choosing instead to lie beside his son and pull him against him, hugging tight. “Shhh now, Sammy. It’s all done now… Dee’s okay, everything’s okay, calm down…” John murmured to the twelve year old, hugging him as he fell asleep in his Dad’s arms. After another twenty minutes of lying there silently, John sighed and got up, tucking Sammy in after changing him into his pyjamas (which wasn’t as easy as when Sam was small enough to hold in one arm…) Heading onto the landing, John checked his watch; 10:30pm by now. Though he was mentally and emotionally drained, John knew he wouldn’t sleep yet, couldn’t sleep yet. He debated for only a moment before changing into sweats and tee and trainers, and collecting his keys and leaving the house, locking it behind him as he got in the car and went out for a drive with the intention of running of his apprehension in the process.

John didn’t know how long he ran for, but he was pretty sure it was a long time. Eventually he stopped in a clearing of trees, trying to decide the best way to glue their family together after this little scare. Hmm, maybe on Sunday they could go out for a picnic or mini golfing or something. Something where Dean would be in their sight the whole time but they could have fun instead of all this tension. With that thought, and a whole load of sweat dripping down his back, John drove home and let himself in; trying to ignore the fact that it was light outside and birdsong could be heard outside the car. John parked in the driveway and slipped into the house, coming face to face with Mary. “Where the hell were you?!” She hissed. “This is exactly what we just busted our son’s butt for and now you pull this crap?! God, John! You can deal with the boys’ today.” She told him, turning away and heading upstairs to bed, tears in her eyes as she slammed the door shut. John groaned. What the hell had he just done?!

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The day was tense; Mary had stayed locked in her and John’s room all day, opening it only long enough to place some clothes outside the door for John to change into, and she refused to speak to anyone in the house aside from Sammy, who really didn’t have a clue what was going on. Dean was practically crying every time he had to sit down or put any pressure on his incredibly tender bottom and everyone was feeling exhausted. Eventually, it was too much for John, who suggested the boys go out to play, telling them that he’d order in some pizza and they could watch a movie that evening. The boys nodded with small, shy smiles, and John watched as they went out into the garden, agreeing to play soccer together.

The father was surprised to hear a knock at the front door and he answered the door: it was his own father. “Hey, Dad. Come on in. What can I do for you?” He asked, his confusion evident.

“Hi, son. I’m here cause that sweet gal of yours phoned in tears this morning. What in hell’s name were you thinking’ pullin’ a disappearing act less than twenty four hours after Dean got his ass handed to him for exactly the same thing?!” John’s father, Henry, growled in true Winchester style.

“Uh, Dad… I had to… I just needed to clear my head…” John tried to explain, sounding like his son’s often sounded when pleading their case over the years to him.

Henry shook his head. “No, Jonathan. You are meant to be leading by example; the rules you set for your family apply to you, as do the consequences. Now, I think we know the consequences for breaking the rules in the Winchester household, don’t you?”

“Aw, fuck, Dad. Just fuck! I’m 43 years old for God’s sake!”

“John! I don’t care what age you are! You did something stupid and dangerous and scared your family and I ain’t gonna let you do that. Now get your ass bent over that couch arm before I drag it there.” The man warned his son with a glare. John winced and made his way to the couch, moving to bend over. “Get those jeans and boxers down, Jonathan.”

“Dad! The boys might come in…”

“They won’t. Doors locked.” His father assured him as he locked the back kitchen door in the next room. John nodded and followed his father’s instructions trying not to worry. He heard the sound of his father’s belt moving through the loops and tried to breathe deep, even breaths. It wasn’t long before the belt landed with a sharp thud to his butt, and pain exploded across his cheeks.

Fuck! Boy, could his Dad pack a mean swing!

Is this how Dean felt when John spanked him last night? And poor Sammy… Maybe spanking wasn’t such a good idea for his kids, this HURT! John’s thoughts were rapid and scattered as his father landed the belt in fast, hard swats, delivering them in a criss-cross pattern before pushing John down further to expose his backside better. John grit his teeth as Henry landed  heavy swats down John’s backside in fiery stripes, before landing fifteen fucking hard swats to John’s already burning, red, sore backside and John grunted with each swat, releasing his breath sharply.

“All done, son. All done. Just don’t pull that crap again. Your family needs you alive and well, not dead or missing, and your Mother and I raised you to obey the rules and respect them, not toss them aside when you feel like it. I hope you remember that in the future ‘cause I hate doing this.” John’s dad told him, pulling him into a firm hug for a few minutes. Once John had recovered, Henry unlocked the door to the garden before turning to John, “Right, I better go. I gotta pick your Momma up from her horse-riding class that she’s started doing recently. We’ll come see you guys, probably next week when things have blown over some.”

And just like that, Henry was gone. After his father left, John went to find his wife and apologise (knowing it was expected by his father), hoping against hope that he could make amends with his wife and start to repair the tension and hurt feelings between his family; knowing deep down they were stronger than this. Much stronger, he thought to himself with a sigh. Or so he hoped as he waited for the bedroom door to open and reveal his gorgeous wife. The wait seemed to take a lifetime.

End of part three!

Fast Lane to Pain (Part Two)

Title: The Fast Lane to Pain (part two)

Pairings: John, Mary, Dean (16), Sam (12), OC Rosie (mentioned)

Plot: John and Mary deal with the aftermath of Dean’s near disappearing act and foolish damage of the Impala while Dean goes on his first date while driving the car himself. While John’s whupping some major naughty Winchester butt, new factors come to light which Set mama on the prowl. Sammy is also unimpressed by Dean’s late night adventure.

A/N: I still own nothing! All belongs to EK and team :) Continuation of prompt Elisabeth gave me. :D :D Warning, contains spanking of teen and of preteen by parent, and use of sweary words.  Hope it’s okay and makes sense, next part to follow!

Enjoy! :)

“Dean! It’s time to wake up, buddy. I let you lie in as long as I could, sweetie. Come on.” Mary spoke softly to her sixteen year old son who looked up at her bleary eyed with a yawn. She left the room to go and wake up Sammy, brushing his bangs off his face as he woke looking exhausted in every sense of the word. Oh darling, she thought, I know the feeling. When she passed Dean’s room, she knew he hadn’t moved and she sighed. Well, Dean could just face his Daddy then. “John!” Mary called out to her husband as she descended the stairs, “John?”

“Down here, honey. Kitchen! What’s up?” He asked turning to her as he made a pot of coffee for them to drink with breakfast.

“Your idiot brat of a child won’t get up and since you’re already on angry Daddy duty, I’m pretty sure it’s your job to get him outta bed out of the shit he’s pulled. I’ll make the coffee…” Mary announced, pointedly ignoring the shocked, open mouthed stare her husband sent her why. Mary never swore; she hated swearing, couldn’t stand it. That was John’s job to use the rough language cause of his short temper. So if Mary was swearing, she must still be REALLY upset with Dean still. Eventually, John pulled himself together with a sigh and nod, before heading upstairs. His footfall on the stairs was steady and regular, and he heard a loud rustling and the sound of covers being thrown off as Dean tried to scramble out of bed before his Dad reached his bedroom.

“Dean Winchester!” John barked, pushing open the door as Dean flinched wide eyed. “Why, young man, did you not get up when your Mom told you to? You’re already in enough trouble, bud.” John questioned his son, delivering a solid smack to his backside. “You have ten minutes to shower and get downstairs, or you’re going over my knee. Do you understand me?”  Dean gulped and nodded hastily, and John nodded before strolling out of the room to check on his youngest son.

When he opened the door, Sam was sitting on his bed looking lost. “Hey, Sammy… What you doing, buddy? You gotta get ready, Sam. You got ten minutes then I want to see you down for breakfast or I’m gonna come back up and you probably won’t like it if I gotta come back. Come on, Sammy. I know you’re tired…” John reached over and ruffled his kid’s hair before leaving the room so Sam could get dressed, and headed downstairs with work boots in hand in search of coffee.

Nine minutes later, John looked at his watch with a sigh; the boys were looking like they were gonna be late. Which, of course, meant Daddy John was gonna have to go up and deliver some mean Daddy smacks to some naughty bottoms. Great. John was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a loud crash and scuffling coming from upstairs, followed by an outraged shout as two bodies tumbled down the stairs. John jumped from the table and rushed through, stopped by the sight greeting him.

Sam was on top of Dean trying to hit him through a waterfall of tears, yelling at Dean tearfully as the older boy tried to fight the younger child off; a mix between guilt and frustration on his face. “Dee! I hate you, you stupid idiot! I thought you left me and you weren’t coming back and that I’d lost my big brother! Because you’re just such a stupid bastard! I hope Dad spanked you real hard for being such a stupid jerk! I hate you, I hate you! Bastard!” Before John could say anything, he heard Mary;s shrill yell from the kitchen addressing Sam’s language. John nodded in agreement to what she was saying, dragging the boys apart. “Boys!” John yelled in his best marine voice, “What on earth is going on here?!” He asked, delivering a round of sharp swats to Dean’s backside before putting him to one side and turning to Sam, adding a round of sharp swats to his youngest child’s bottom who’s tears doubled as he rubbed at his now sore bottom. “You know the rules for fighting in this house. If I see any more of this, you’ll both be going to bed early. Now, Dean go and get breakfast. And no more attention drawing; okay?!  Sam: a word?” John raised his brow, waiting till Dean’s back disappeared into the kitchen-dining area open plan before addressing his baby. “Sammy, I understand how upset you are at Dean and how worried you were yesterday, I was real scared too. But I need you to be a big boy and not attack him over it, and to not swear at him for it. You broke two big rules and if I ever hear you call your brother a bastard again, I will spank you bare butt until you cannot say that word anymore. It is mean and hurtful and spiteful, and your mom and I taught you much better. I better see an improvement, now kid. I’m not gonna spank you more because I know you got a scare but you are grounded tomorrow.” Sam groaned but managed to resist protesting with great difficulty, trying not to get into more trouble. “Yessir.“ He mumbled sadly, lost puppy dog look on his face. John nodded and ruffled his son’s hair before hey headed to the kitchen together.

The day passed without disaster, and after dinner, John sent Dean straight to his bedroom after he’d helped clear up; telling Dean to get his homework done and that he’d be up for a chat in a bit. He didn’t mention the bedtime spankings he’d be giving his son, but his wife gave him that look that told him he had to be strict to get through to their kid. John nodded, watching as Dean scampered from the room and raced upstairs, shutting his door with a slam. After half an hour, John went upstairs and collected his wife’s wooden backed hairbrush before entering his son’s room. “Hey, bud. It’s time for your first bedtime spanking of a couple. This is for your dangerous driving last night, okay?” Dean nodded slightly and John wasted no time sitting down on the bed and pulling his son over his lap; lowering his pyjama bottoms and laying into his bottom with his hand, quickly reigniting the fire from last night since Dean’s butt was still a rosy pink colour before John started. After he’d re-coloured the bottom before him, he picked up the hairbrush and repeated his motion from the previous night: landing hard, powerful spanks with the brush four times in one place before moving on, mainly focusing on his kid’s sit spots. After five more minutes, he paused. By this point, Dean was crying hard, shaking from the sobs and John placed a hand on his back, rubbing slightly. “Dean, why were you even speeding in the first place?”

He was confused when Dean went rigid over his lap before taking a shuddering breath and quickly exclaiming, “We were about to have sex when you phoned! I was gonna sleep with her, Dad! That’s why I was so late, and why I rushed…”

John grimaced before landing a sharp swat, “I see. So, you damaged a car that doesn’t belong to you and got a damn speeding ticket because you were late home because you were about to have sex with some girl who you’ve been on one damn date with, Dean?!” John asked, landing a few more swats as he spoke, his voice gradually rising in disbelief. “I can NOT believe you were so irresponsible!” John sighed loudly, “Did you at least have protection?” He asked, dreading the likely answer.

“Uhm, no?” Dean answered, clearly distressed, as his face turned the same dark red as his bottom.

At that moment, the door flew open to reveal a livid Momma Winchester with hands on hips, and scowl on face. “Dean Matthew Winchester! You do not have sex with a random girl without protection!! I cannot believe you would be so stupid! Get over here, NOW!” John helped Dean stand up, wincing as Mary shouted; another complete rarity in their household. Dean shuffled over to his Mom looking both shamefaced and positively terrified, and John waited for the fireworks to start; knowing how strongly Mary felt about having sex when you can’t support your partner; an issue that most definitely applied to Dean’s choices last night. Yeah, John concluded as Dean scuffed his feet on the carpet; squirming uncomfortably, Dean’s life was positively over in the foreseeable future as far as his wife was concerned. Even as John reached his conclusion, Mary grabbed her son’s ear and whirled him round, landing a flurry of sharp swats to the already beet behind as Dean wailed. Ouch. This was gonna be such a long night, John realised with a wince, and poor Sammy could hear it all next door…

The Fast Lane to Pain (part one!)

Title: Fast Lane to Pain (part one).
Characters: John, Dean(16), Mary, Sam(12), OC Rosie(16)
Plot: Dean takes the Impala out on hiw own for the first time on a date and misses his curfew, getting a speeding ticket in the process; John isn't a happy daddy.
Author's Note: I own nothing! All belongs to EK! Contains spanking of teen by parent. This is from a prompt Capricorn86 gave me about two months ago, heehee!

Hope you enjoy! Not sure if I'll do more parts; it depends if it's any good as I'm not sure cause I normally write shorter than this... SO sorry if it's too convoluted!

Enjoy!



John Winchester looked up as his recently turned sixteen year old son, Dean, jumped into the car, slamming the door with a grin. “I passed, Dad!”

John grinned and leaned over to pull his son into a quick hug, ruffling his hair proudly. “Well done, Champ! I knew you’d do it. I’m so proud of you, buddy.”

Dean beamed at the obvious praise from his father and for the remaining twenty minute journey home John smiled affectionately as he listened to his eldest chatter away animatedly. As they pulled up to their home where Dean’s mother, Mary, and little brother, Sammy, would be found in the kitchen; Sammy struggling wilfully through his homework while his mom made dinner. John pulled into the driveway and parked the car before turning to his son, “Come on. You better go tell your Momma the good news, bud.”

Dean nodded and jumped out the car, racing towards the house… “Mom, Mom! I did it! I passed! I can drive!” Dean yelled as he searched for his mother, John following behind at a more sedate pace.

“Oh, well done, baby! You did good, Dean. Real good! We’re so proud of you sweetheart.” Mary smiled warmly at her son before kissing his cheek. “How about you get your homework done and then you and Sam can go wash up and come back to the table for dinner, hey?” Dean nodded and left the room as quickly as he entered it. John stood in the doorway watching his sunny faced wife before walking across the room to hug her from behind. “Hey beautiful.” He whispered, nibbling her ear.

“Mm, you’re a charmer.” She responded breathlessly with a sweet smile, “How’s my favourite handsome guy?” She turned to face him, pressing herself against him as she threaded her hands around his neck, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. John was unable to speak as the kiss deepened and he smirked when they pulled apart, “Well, he’s even better now anyway. God, you’re so amazing…” He could feel himself becoming aroused and tried to subtly get his wife to take it to the next step but she leaned back, looking at him.

“Honey, we can’t… Not in the kitchen when the boys’ll be back down soon. Later, I promise…” She giggled, turning back to dinner as John looked at her in complete shock. “What?!Bu… Fine.” He grumbled, as he turned away dejectedly, heading towards the dining room to set the table with a sigh; trying to successfully hide his somewhat uncomfortable erection from his overly observant children. The joys of having teenagers who appeared at all the wrong times, John mused. Hmm, yeah… Joys.

Two weeks had passed since Dean had passed his test, and the sixteen year old had taken every opportunity to drive in the car with his parents whenever he was allowed in order to show them how good a driver he was. And so it was hardly surprising to John when Dean appeared by his side at breakfast on Wednesday morning as he read the paper looking nervous, “Hey Dad?”

John looked up briefly, “Yeah?”

“Can I, uh, borrow the car tomorrow? Please.” He mumbled, clearly nervous.

“I dunno, what for? I’m not sure we’re quite ready for you to be out in the car by yourself yet, Deano.”

“Aw, da-aad! Please! I won’t be myself! It’s uh…” Dean blushed, “I kinda got a date. With Rosie. Please let me go, Dad. It’s just pizza and the movies. I’ll be super careful, and I’ll be back on time and I’ll be good. I promise!”

“I dunno, Dean… I’d feel better taking you guys and picking you up… I—”

“Dad! I’m not some little kid! COME ON!” Dean’s frustration was becoming clear and John raised an eyebrow at his son who’s look went from defiant to sheepish in a matter of seconds.

“Really, buddy? Cause that behaviour looks pretty childish to me. Now, I’ll speak to your Mom about it and tell you after school, okay?”

Dean sighed, “Fine…”

That night, Dean went to bed elated when his Dad told him that he could have the car tomorrow, but with conditions. “I spoke to your Mom…” John started, “And, we’ve decided to give you a chance to prove to us you can be responsible and drive sensible. However, it is a school night. So, I expect you to be home by ten and in bed by eleven. If you fail to do this, you won’t be using the car for a while, okay? The usual rules apply, and you know the deal with rules, Dean. But if you show me you can do this, your mum and I are willing to let you use the car more often. Understood?” Dean nodded with a grin. “Okay; deal. Bed time then, go on…” John gave his son a hug goodnight before sending him to bed and heading up soon after wards to join his wife who was already in bed, hoping he’d made the right choice…

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“Where the fuck is he, Mary?!” John growled for the fifth time that night. It was half eleven and John had tried to call his son’s cell what he was convinced was a million times already. “I’m going to fuckin’ kill him when he gets home. His ass is so dead. He’s never using that damn car again! Ever.” John continued his rant as he paced, turning only when Sammy appeared in the doorway. “Get back to bed, Samuel. You should be asleep.” He growled at the child who visible flinched, wide eyed.

“But Dad… Where’s Dean?” Sam whined, practically in tears.

“Hey,” John softened immediately, opening his arms to his son who ran straight into them, “I don’t know yet, Sammy. But don’t you worry, baby. Your brother’s gonna be home soon, shhh… It’s okay.” John soothed, trying to tamp down his own fear at his son’s disappearance. Mary appeared in the doorway from the kitchen and walked over, taking their youngest from the agitated father.

 “Hush, baby… It’s okay… Dean’s coming back soon… Come on, you need to sleep, Tiger.” She told him, directing him upstairs to his bed. While she was gone, John continued to alternate between pacing, cussing, and trying to get hold of his son; praying to God that he was okay and not dead somewhere in a ditch or a wrecked car. Fuck.

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Dean heard his phone vibrate on the dashboard and looked up from his makeout session with Rosie, trying to decide whether to answer it or not. He’d gotten Rosie down to her underwear, and he wasn’t much more dressed as he was enticed by her subtle curves and glowing skin. His erection was obvious immediately and one thing had led to another and as Dean kissed her and fondled her, he decided to go for it, knowing that the temptation and desire was getting to much to bear. This would break his virginity, and hers too, but God was she worth it. He reached for his boxers and began to pull them down when the phone went off again and he stopped frustrated, leaning over from the back seat of the impala to grab it. The called ID showed his worst nightmare (or what he suspected his worse nightmare was): Dad, and the time made it worse: 11:56pm. “Oh fuck. I am so dead… Uh, Rosie? It’s midnight… We gotta go… My parents are gonna kill me… I’m so sorry…” Rosie squealed in fright and jumped up, fixing her clothes quickly followed by Dean. They jumped round to the front of the car and Dean answered the phone, “Uh, hi Dad. I’m fine, sorry I’m late. I’m on my way, something came up. Love you, bye.” Dean quickly explained, hanging up before his daddy could speak. His heart was hammering in his chest and sweat was beading on his forehead. Rosie was practically in tears, her long brown curls swept to one shoulder as her fingers tapped on the dashboard.

“Hey, it’s okay, Rose. I promise… I had fun tonight, can we do this again?” Dean asked quietly as they arrived outside her house. Dean walked her to the door and was relieved when she told him she’d love to spend more time with him and was really into him. Dean leaned in to kiss her on the doorstep as a blush crept up into her cheeks, her big brown blue eyes gazing at him shyly. “Night, Rosie. I’ll be seeing you again soon.” He whispered before she slipped into the house to her parents' worry, and he ran back to the car leaving her driveway quickly.

Dean raced towards home, stopping only when he saw the flashing lights of a police siren telling him to pull into the side of the road and he groaned. Oh God, he was so dead…

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John finished what seemed like the hundredth cup of coffee that night and tried not to swear as he looked at the clock: 12:32pm. What the fuck was taking so long? Dean had said he was nearly home exactly 35 minutes ago, he should have been hope after only twenty. Damn, that kid was so dead. John looked at Mary who’s face was pale with worry and she was gnawing at her lip to hold the tears in. The father of two crossed the room to his wife and wrapped her in a hug, pulling her in against his shoulder as sobs wracked her body. He was going to fuckin' kill that kid for scaring his poor, sweet Momma like this. “Hey, sweetheart... Hey, hey, Mary; it’s okay. He’s coming home just now, darling; he promised… Calm down… Hushhhh.” John soothed, rubbing her back and planting a soft kiss to the crown of her head. After a few more moments, Mary sighed deeply, drawing a calming breath. “I hope you deal with his behaviour real thorough, John. Real thorough. I think I’m gonna check up on Sam; he’s not really sleeping cause he’s real shaken up.”

As Mary turned to head up stairs, the door opened and Dean stepped inside shaking visibly all over. Mary was over at his side in a flash as she wrapped him in a hug, with John close behind. “Are you okay, son? We were so worried… Are you hurt?!” Mary interrogated the teen with tears in her eyes. Dean shook his head, “I’m fine…” He mumbled, completely subdued. A moment later, Mary pulled away.

“I’ll go see if Sam’s awake and tell him Dean’s home,” She told John, leaving father and son alone. Dean stared at the floor, scuffing his foot on the carpet till John raised his chin to regain their eye contact. “So, you wanna tell me what on earth you were thinking breaking every one of the rules I gave you tonight?” John asked with more calm than he felt.

“I, uh…” Dean stuttered before taking a deep breath, “I’m so sorry, Dad. I had an amazing night and I got kinda carried away and time just totally got away from me and I didn't realise how late it was, but then I was rushing to get home and I sorta, well, bumped the car on the way home trying to get back fast cause me and Rosie, we sorta got carried away…” Dean’s ears blushed furiously, “I got a speeding ticket, Dad. I’m so so sorry.” The sixteen year old whispered as tears slipped down his cheek.

John had to count to ten until the red cleared from his vision and he raised his eyebrow at his son, “A ticket? Damage to the Impala? Just how fast were you going, young man?”

“Uh… S-Seventy miles an hour?” Dean winced at the glare his Dad sent him.

“I see. Well, I am not going to deal with all of this tonight, Mister. Tonight, you will be handing over the impala keys with the knowledge you won’t be going anywhere behind the wheel of a car for a long, long time buddy. You’re also grounded for at least the next three weeks for being three hours late since you were due home at ten and didn’t walk through that door until one. You will pay me back for the speeding fine I will be paying for you tomorrow, with your allowance, until it has been paid, along with paying for the damage to the Impala that I now have to fix. And now, let’s deal with the last part of you coming home so late and showing such blatant disrespect towards your Mom and I, and Sammy too for that matter. Come on…” John led Dean over to the couch and pulled him between his spread legs, undoing his jeans and lowering them along with his boxers. Dean tried to pull away as he went to lower the underwear and John landed a sharp slap to the side of his backside. “Settle down, little boy.” John growled, “I changed your diapers and bathed you more times than either of us can remember.”

With that he yanked the boxers down and pulled Dean across his lap, landing hard smacks to his son’s backside. He repeatedly aimed swats at Dean’s sit spots with deadly accuracy, swatting the same spot three or four times before moving on as he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possibly. It had been a long night for them all and Dean had school tomorrow, so John didn’t want to keep him up longer than he had to. He started to flick his wrist sharply on each swat, intensifying the sting so that Dean was wriggling and squirming within moments, whimpering with each hard slap. “Owww… Daaadd…” He whined quietly. Within the next minute he broke down over John’s muscled thighs and John fought the urge to just stop then and there.

“No more breaking the rules Dean. Your mom and I set rules for a reason, and want to keep you safe. You know better than to be disrespectful, and I’m disappointed in the choices you made tonight. I hope you remember to make better choices in the future, kid. Nearly done now, buddy…” John promised, finishing up with sixteen incredibly hard swats to Dean’s backside that made even John wince. The backside before him was a furiously dark red and Dean was sobbing; shaking with his sobs. John began to rub his back and murmur soothing words to him, waiting Dean’s tears out before helping him stand up after replacing his boxers. He pulled Dean into a firm hug, rubbing his neck to help him calm down further, before helping Dean out of his jeans. “Come on, Ace. Let’s get you in bed…” John encouraged his son who was looking like a lost little boy as he sniffled and rubbed at his sore, red bottom frantically. John led Dean upstairs to his room and coaxed him into changing his t-shirt to his sleep shirt before pulling back the comforter and pointing to the bed, smiling affectionately as his little boy climbed into bed on his stomach, hugging his pillow with big, fat tears in his eyes. “Night, Daddy.” He whispered, “I’m so sorry I let you down…” More tears filled his eyes and fell onto the pillow. John sighed, before smoothing his hair from his forehead, “Hey now, don’t you think about that just now, bud. We’ll get through this and sort it tomorrow. Shhh, go to sleep now. I’m here; it’s okay…” John murmured to his son, waiting until he dosed off into a deep sleep before leaving the room quietly. Well, that was for sure… At least he knew what tomorrow would bring; or so he thought as he climbed wearily into bed beside his already slumbering wife. So he thought…

-End of part one! Part two to follow…