A/N: So I'm trying something new: a oneshot series. I really like writing the boys as fathers (no Wincest) and there are tons of different angles and depths to explore when it comes to the subject. I also love writing kids (especially the little ones!) so I thought this would be a good place to get that out of my system every once in a while. Thanks for reading!

(If this turns out to be a misguided adventure, all blames lies directly on ThoughtfulConstellations who fully encouraged the idea of Daddy Drabbles.)

"You are not my daddy!"

Dean sighed as the pre-schooler in front of him stomped her foot, causing one pink and purple sneaker to light up with red lights. He was going to have to get rid of those. They were basically a flashing neon sign saying: look at us, monsters!

"Look kid," Dean said and before the next words were out of his mouth, the child in front of him started crying. "What did I do?" he asked and she looked up at him with tears spilling down her cheeks.

"You are mean!" the four-year-old yelled and turned to run. The problem was, there was nowhere to go. They were stuck together in a motel outside of Boise, Idaho, forty-five minutes from where the child had been living up until now and about a thousand years from where Dean wanted to be. He sighed as she contemplated what to do for a second and then threw herself flat on the floor, making him cringe at the thought of what could be hidden in the crevices of the carpet. That alone should have been enough to make him realize he was already going into daddy mode. Never before had Dean Winchester thought about the cleanliness of any carpet, least of all while staying in a motel that was ten times nicer than any one he'd stayed in previously.

"I'm not mean," he said. "I'm practical." Her crying turned into howling that bruised his eardrums and the little sneakers were going off like a cop car's lights as her toes pounded into the floor in time with her clenched fists. He stepped over her in one stride and shut the curtains, leaving the room to be lit by only the fluorescent lights above them.

"You are mean! My daddy is mean!" she sobbed and Dean sighed again. This was only their second night and it was already going way downhill. Like, fallen off a cliff, lying in the bottom of the valley downhill. He wanted to call that stuffy CPS agent and tell her to come scrape the wailing child off his floor.

"Stop crying," he pleaded but the little girl just continued to shriek and he was a little worried that the motel manager was going to come knocking. Knowing his luck, the kid would probably say she's been kidnapped and what would that going to look like to CPS?

The crying had now reached decibels to which the human ear should not have be able to detect and Dean was already working on a headache so that definitely didn't help. Instead of trying to calm her, Dean stepped back over the child and locked himself in the small bathroom. On second thought, he unlocked the door but took a seat on the toilet and his head dropped into his hands, scrubbing at his face as if to try and rub some motivation into himself. It didn't work.

He didn't ask for this, to have a miniature human riding in the back of his car and asking to be picked up and putting boogers in his hair without meaning to. But, as both Sam and Bobby reminded him, he had definitely asked for the sex that one night four years ago. In fact he might remember getting drunk enough that he literally asked for it. Then again, the condom wasn't supposed to break and he kind of also remembers being shouted at for not pulling out, but who knew that an actual child was going to happen because of it. Not him. Definitely not him.

And listening to the screaming still going strong from behind the wooden bathroom door, Dean Winchester officially swore off sex. Forever. Or at least until he got to Heaven where he figured he couldn't procreate because it was Heaven and he could do whatever he wanted once he got there. If he got there.

He dialed Sam's cell while trying to avoid looking at the pink Barbie toothbrush on the counter. There were certain things he didn't want to repeat from last night and convincing the little girl to brush her teeth was one of them. She had thrown a fit and told him his toothpaste tasted "too spicy". He had actually gone out and bought some bubblegum flavored crap but by the time they got back to the motel, she'd fallen asleep in her carseat and he would have rather hanged himself than waken her up. Her teeth wouldn't rot overnight. Right? Goddammit, he knew nothing about children. He made a mental note to make her a dentist appointment, trying and failing to remember the last time he'd been to the dentist.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was half-panic, half-curiosity. "Dean, how's it going? Did you meet the kid?"

"Yeah," he said and it came out as a whisper. "Yeah," he tried again. There was a pause.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Is she yours?"

Dean thought about the blonde hair and blue eyes and wanted to say no but then he thought about how she kept asking for a pink jeep to drive and the fact that even though she wore a pink tutu to the grocery store, she demanded to watch Transformers instead of Cinderella.

"Yeah, she's mine."

"What's her name?"

"Lydia. Although she prefers to be called Princess Sparkle" Dean said dryly and Sam laughed.

"How's it going?"

"Well, right now she having a temper tantrum in the motel room because I told her we were going to go get McDonalds for dinner. She wanted Burger King but for some reason this goddamn town doesn't have a Burger King."

"What do you mean she's in the motel room? Where are you? Dean, you can't leave her alone! She's five!" Sam sounded much more like a father than Dean at the moment and he wished his little brother were here with him. But Sam was taking care of a rogue vampire in Sacramento and couldn't get to Idaho fast enough.

"Actually," Dean corrected. "She's four, just turned four last month, and don't worry I'm in the bathroom. I wouldn't leave her alone."

"Good."

"But I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can't get her to stop crying. She says I'm not her dad and that I'm mean. Sam, she called me mean twice." Sam wanted to laugh again at the wounded tone coming from his tough big brother but he bit his tongue. He knew this was going to be hard on Dean, knew that Dean wasn't ready to be thrown into a totally different world than the one he inhabited. His brother did not like surprises.

"She doesn't mean it."

"How do you know?" Sam's voice softened.

"Because she's probably really scared right now. Her mom died last month, she's been in foster care ever since, and now she's living with a strange man. Imagine how freaked out she is."

"I'm not strange!"

"You know what I mean." His own navy toothbrush looked so depressing there on the counter next to hers and Dean hid it behind the purple bag that held of Lydia's bathroom stuff.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Why don't you start by holding her, that might work."

"Holding her?" Sam sighed and this time he sounded a bit impatient. It really wasn't that long ago that Dean had been taking care of Sam like he was supposed to take care of Lydia. He knew that it was different when the kid was your own but it's not like Dean had no practice.

"Yes, hold her like you used to hold me when I woke up from nightmares. You used to pick me up and take me back to your bed and then you'd wait until I fell asleep. A lot of the time you told me stories, sometimes you just talked about random things, but it always helped me."

"I didn't know you remembered that," Dean said after a minute. He hadn't forgotten the years he'd spent tending to Sam but he didn't think his little brother would remember them so vividly.

"Of course I do." The silence turned awkward; neither of the brothers liked reveling in the fact that their deceased father hadn't actually been much of a father.

"You'll do better than him, Dean," Sam said quietly.

"Sam," Dean whispered. "I don't think I can." Outside the door, Lydia sobs were still audible.

"You can. And I'll help and Bobby will help. You don't have to do this alone, okay? Not like Dad."

"I'm going to go back out there," Dean said and Sam smiled into the phone. One thing that could be said for Dean Winchester was that he never backed down from a challenge. "

Good for you. I'll see you in a couple days. I'm going to go kill a vampire now."

As he splashed water on his face, Dean couldn't help but think how he would have much rather preferred hunting the supernatural than what he was about to do.

He was rather amazed that Lydia was still going at it when he got out; he'd been in the bathroom a good ten minutes and yet, the kid's voice didn't seem to be giving out at all.

"Lydia? Lydia!" She didn't acknowledge him until he grabbed her around the middle and hauled her upwards. She flailed in his arms but Dean was used to holding down shifting werewolves and angry demons and a smaller-than-average child was nothing compared to that.

"It's okay," he said over and over until she stopped kicking him and one hand reached up hesitantly to stroke her hair. He'd put it in pigtails that morning but they were coming out of the rubber bands and strands of hair were clinging to her face, glued there by tears. He brushed them away.

"We're going to be okay," he told his daughter and she wrapped herself around him like a baby monkey, legs around his waist, arms around his neck, face buried in his collarbone. He could feel the warmth of her cheeks against his skin, the furious pounding of her heart against his own chest. She felt so tiny and Dean knew instinctively that he had to protect this child that was half made of him. And just like that, there was nothing more he wanted more in the world than to keep her safe.

"I miss my mommy," she whispered to his throat, reaching up to pet the scruff along his jawline, a habit she'd picked up since yesterday. Lots of women said it was scratchy and irritating but this odd little girl found it soothing.

"I know," Dean said. "And I'm sorry but I can't bring her back." Lydia wiped her nose without pulling away and he felt the snot wipe along the collar of his shirt and for some reason he didn't mind.

"D-did she go on a t-trip?"

"Yes," Dean said, sitting down on the bed and tucking her against him even more. Her legs were bony against his back.

"Without m-me?" Dean's stone heart cracked and broke and his chin came to rest on her head, something he'd always done with Sammy as a little kid.

"She couldn't bring you," he told Lydia. "But she really wanted to."

"She did?"

"Of course." She continued to play with his facial hair, reaching her fingers up to twist in his hair. She pulled away a little bit, her eyes red and swollen. Dean's heart throbbed.

"Lydia, do you want to come live with me?" Those blue eyes went wide and her fingers stopped working through his hair. She cocked her head so that more hair fell out of her pigtails and Dean swept it behind her shoulders and out of her face. He could do this, this fathering thing. It wasn't so hard.

"Can we go to the park?"

"Sure."

"And the zoo?" Dean tried to think of the nearest zoo to Sioux Falls but decided he'd drive all the way to the San Diego Zoo if he had to.

"Yes, and the zoo. We'll go and meet your Uncle Sam. He's really tall like a tree but super nice." Lydia giggled.

"I have a tree uncle! That's funny!" Dean grinned along with her.

"So what do you think? Want to come live with me?"

Lydia surprised him by launching herself forward on his thighs and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"Yes Daddy, I want to go home with you!"

A/N: This one was pretty general but it got the ball rolling. I have a few more ideas in mind but I'm totally down to do requests too, so leave suggestions in reviews or PM me if you're shy. I'm pretty open to anything except no Wincest and no Destiel and no mpreg. Brotp is awesome. Just normal, fluffy (or angsty, we all know I love angst) kid fics please. And let's keep it rated T. Any season or AU is fine with me. So get creative, talk to me, and let me know what you would like to see and if you even want me to continue!