Randomness! (Supernatural Edition)

Reader X Dean: Don't do that

Your feet pounded the asphalt with renewed purpose. You were getting out of this, whether that demons liked it or not. A flash of black smoke and you fumbled, stopping with your mouth agape and your (e/c) eyes widened. 

"Aw, come one, beautiful. You don't want to leave when the party's just getting started, do ya?" he asked. He was taller than you by three inches and double your width. His eyes were completely black, glinting in the lamps' yellow haze. His tanned skin glowed with sweat and the gasoline you dosed him with. His brown shirt was dark with the liquid, almost black, and his jeans were sprinkled in the dark spots. You took all this in in less than ten seconds. 

"Actually, your mom says its past your bedtime," you hissed, swinging your knife in his direction. It hit home, stabbing him in the chest. You yanked it out and spun around, sensing another presence behind you. 

"Argh," you shouted, lunging towards the other demon, her black eyes widening in surprise. You ruined her light blue button down and jeans, but didn't think anything other than, 'oh well', and shoved her back. Her dark skin glowed, before a wisp of black smoke came from her mouth and nose. Her dark hair fanned her skull and you had to look away, guilt twinging your thoughts. 

Your breathing was ragged and you let out a breathy laugh, not believing that you killed two demons, by yourself. Suddenly you were whooping, jumping in the air and squealing excitedly. 

"Ha ha! Take that, dad! I can take care of myself!" you screamed to the sky. Your dad died, saying that he didn't want to leave you for fear of you killing yourself on accident, welp, you just proved him wrong. You suddenly keeled over, gagging and throwing up in the middle of the road. You sighed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and stood up, grabbing your fallen knife and making your way to your car. 

An hour later, after a quick stop at your hotel to shower and change your clothes into a (f/c) hoodie and some black leggings, you were pulling into a small diner, itching for some (favorite/food). 

You got out of your blue '56 Chevy Bel Air and went into the brightly lit diner. There were a few patrons there, mostly old timers and a few hung over teens. It suddenly occurred to you that it was 6 in the morning, and you had to drive the whole day. With no sleep. Internally groaning, you sat at the bar, on a stool, and scanned the menu. Bingo. (F/f) was only five bucks. 

"What can I get you, dearie?" an elderly voice asked me. I glanced up. Standing in front of me was an older woman, creased with wrinkles and white hair. Her brown eyes glinted from beneath her sagging eyelids. She had the barest hint of a white mustache. She looked very kind, though. 

"Oh, may I have some (f/f) and a large coffee, please? Black," I ordered politely. She nodded and went to the opened counter to tell the chef what I wanted. I sighed, propping myself up against the counter and trying to stay alive. The diner's bell rang and I tensed. I forced myself to act normal, not turn around and investigate these new comers. 'Marie', the waitress, pushed a large white ceramic mug towards me. 

"Thanks," I rasped, picking the mug up and looking to my left. 

"Hey, who owns the '58 chevy out there? The bright blue one? I'd love to take it for a spin if you don't mind!" The newcomer shouted. They were talking about your car! That car was the only family you had left, no way in heck were you allowing a stranger to drive it. 

So you spun around on your bar stool with your coffee and leaned against the bar, propping your elbows up. A few (h/c) locks cut your vision into slivers and you smiled at the two boys walking in. 

They both were tall, one freakishly tall and the other average tall, if there was such a thing. The taller one had dark golden hair to his shoulders, hazel eyes, long nose with a beauty mark a little to the right of the nostril, and thin lips. Plaid adorned his torso and he had some warm looking pants on. The shorter one had a dark shade of hair than the first one that was spiked up at the very front, and a brown leather jacket on over a forest green shirt. He had the brightest green eyes you've ever seen, which were framed by the splatter of freckles across his face. He wore a necklace, a wooden totem pole looking thing and the same style jeans as the first one. 

"Are you gentlemen talking about my '56 Bel Air?" you asked, sipping some of the scalding bitterness from your mug. 

"The light blue truck out there? That can't be yours, I thought the ladies loved convertibles?" the short one shot back. I cocked an (h/c) eyebrow and my smile faltered. 

"Guess I'm the odd one out huh? Like usual," you muttered the last part under your breath and spun back to face your just arriving food. With your mouth watering, you ignored the steam rising from your food and dug in, scarfing down every bite and drinking some of your coffee occasionally. The boys sat next to you; taller one on your right, shorter one on your left. 

"Okay, look, Captain America," you began turning towards the shorter one, "no you cannot drive my car and no you cannot have my number and no you are not allowed to buy my food." With that you threw a ten down on the counter. You stood up and began to leave when someone grabbed you arm.

"Look, don't do that. Imma give it to you straight. We are surrounded by demons and probably going to die if we don't come up with something. Sit down and we'll figure something out and get you outta here safely, okay?" freckles whispered to you, gently guiding you back to your seat. Dread filled your body. 

"Oh come on, I just destroyed two of 'em, why are they trying to kill me?" you asked yourself, but giant heard you. 

"Your a hunter?" he asked. 

"Yes, I'm (y/f/n) (y/l/n). I've been hunting in this area for the last two weeks trying to clear this town, but I obviously did no good," you gave up, letting your head fall on the counter. 

"Don't do that," freckles hissed in your ear. You looked up at him. 

"I'm Dean, that's my brother Sam and I need you to act normal and not do that again," he told you, reaching behind and tapping Sam's shoulder. You sat up quickly, and darted you (e/c) around. Two behind you, three to your left, one to you right, and five in front of you. 

"Eleven," you whispered to Sam. He nodded, his jaw clenching. 

"We got this," you said, determined, jumping out of your chair and whipping your gun out of your holster. 

"(Y/f/n)!" Sam shouted. 

"Crap,"  Dean deadpanned, both jumping up and pulling knives out. You shot them with the anti-demon bullets you made, dead center of their forehead. A white pain occurred in your side and without looking you shot. 

When all was said and done, you stood there, your eyes bright, breathing ragged and your hand pressed against your shallow knife cut in your side. The boys looked fine, surprisingly. 

"Don't do that again," Dean order. You rolled your eyes, but smiled. 

"Okay, dad."