#cassieclassicschallenge

“Y/N are you sure you can handle this alone?” Garth asked with concern in his voice. Garth took it upon himself to keep an eye on you since you were only 15 and hunting on your own. He knew it would do no good to tell you to quit so he just made sure you were as safe as you could be. This case, however, was a big vamps nest that he thought even he would need help on.

“Yeah Garth, I can handle it. I’ve taken care of vamps before. It should be a walk in the park,” you replied.

“Y/N it’s a big nest- “

“I got it Garth, I promise,”

“Ok, well here. You’ve heard of the Winchesters. This is their number. If you get into any trouble call them. They will help. They will be in the area on a hunt of their own,”

“Thank you Garth,” you replied as you hugged Garth and then left for the nest in Louisiana.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Right about now you were wishing that you had listened to Garth. After going in all halfcocked you got yourself captured. The nest had been bigger than you thought. You thought there would be 6 vamps max, but there were 15 and the minute you stepped foot in that barn, after killing 3, you were captured. At first, you thought they were going to kill you, but they had different plans. Plans that didn’t sit to well for you.

That was how you ended up here for two days as these dickbags food source. This particular nest had been hitting quite a dry spell and you were a welcomed surprise. You sat in the barn with your hands shackled above your head sporting bite marks on both sides of your neck, both of your upper arms, and one even bite your thigh. You were weak and tired but you would not give them the satisfaction of them killing you.

On day two, however, you noticed you were alone. The pack must have gone out on the hunt tonight. You realized your shackles were loose and you could shake both of your wrists free. You guessed they were careless the last time they checked your shackles. Regardless, now you were free and ran for the door. However, they were one step ahead of you and had the barn locked from the outside trapping you in and you were too weak to try and bust it open.

As you were pacing wondering what you were going to do, you noticed your phone on the table on the other side of the room and knew what you had to do. You grabbed it and dialed up the Winchester’s hoping they would believe you and help. They were your last hope.

“Hello?” Dean answered.

“Is this Dean Winchester?” you asked.

“Maybe. Who is this?”

“Just... can you please just tell me if you are Dean or Sam even?” you said with a crack in your voice almost sounding scared and desperate and Dean noticed.

“This is Dean.”

“Look, I don’t know how much time I have here, but my name is Y/N Y/L/N. You don’t know me, but I’m a hunter and I’m in real trouble here. I need some help. I’m desperate and know you are in the area.”

“How did you get this number?”

“From Garth. He thinks I’m too young to be hunting on my own and thought this hunt was too big for me, turns out he was right. But he gave me your number because he knew you would be close by in case I got in to trouble and I have. I don’t know how- “

Suddenly your conversation was cut short when 4 vamps entered the barn and saw you free and on the phone. They charged towards you and you dropped the phone. You tried to fight but were too weak and they over powered you pinning you to the ground causing you to scream when they each bit you.

Dean heard the scuffle over the phone and screamed, “Y/N!!” Then the line went dead. “Son of a bitch.”

“Dean? Who is Y/N? What is going on?” Sam asked with concern in his voice.

“I don’t know she just called and said she needed help. Said Garth gave her my number and then I heard a fight and then the line went dead,” Dean said.

“Ok well we should go help.”

“Let me call Garth first to make sure.”

“You thing she was lying?”

“I don’t know. Regardless, I don’t know what she was hunting or where and if Garth gave her my number chances are he knows where.”

Sam nodded his head as his brother dialed Garths number. The conversation was quick. Dean first yelling at Garth for giving out his number, then yelling at him for letting a 15-year-old hunt on her own. But after the yelling died down he got the info he needed from Garth. You were in Lafayette, Louisiana, only 45 minutes from them, that you were hunting a nest of vamps, and you left two days ago and aside from the call to Dean no one had heard from you in those two days.

After about an hour, they found the barn in question and unsheathed their machetes and gathered all the dead man’s blood they could. They slowly moved towards the barn taking out the three outside and headed in.

When they walked through the door they were instantly in fight. Sam took out two and Dean took out another two when he saw your bloody, pale, slouching form with your arms shackled to the post. He rushed towards you and made sure you still had a pulse and took his machete to cut the shackles loose from your arms. He put one of your arms around his neck and began to drag you out to the Impala.

However, you heard the leader of the group sneaking up behind you and Dean. You strategically grabbed the machete from Dean’s hands, leaving his brows scrunched, and turned around expertly decapitating the son of a bitch that drained more blood from you than the others. After his body fell to the ground another vamp came charging at you and you ducked at his advances and decapitated him from behind.

Dean looked at you, eyes wide and jaw almost to the floor. One side of your lips lifted to a cocky grin but then the room started to spin and the lights started to go black. You passed out probably from the blood loss. What you didn’t know was that Dean was right there to catch you and cradled you in his arms till he and Sam got you back to the Impala. Before getting into the car themselves they both looked back at you and at each other with looks that said damn that was badass.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you woke up you were in a strange motel room. There was no one else in the room but you thought you saw two figures outside the window. The wounds on your neck and arms were bandaged. You got out of bed and fell right back down onto the bed still feeling a bit dizzy. You shook your head and stood up slowly and headed for the door. That’s when you heard two men arguing.

“Sam, she’s just a kid. She can’t be doing this on her own,” the slightly shorter man said.

“I know Dean but what are we supposed to do?” the man you assumed was Sam said.

“I say we drop her off at a police station or something. They can get her a home. Get her away from all this.”

“You honestly think that will work. You remember what happened with Claire don’t you? She ran from every foster home and that was before she was even hunting. What makes you think Y/N won’t just run and continue on the same dangerous path.”

You walked out the door to interrupt their conversation not wanting to hear anymore. You were a bit wobbly walking out causing the guy you assumed was Dean to reach out and grab hold of you. You steadied yourself and nodded your head at him. He gave you a smile in return.

“Well, thanks for the save guys but I think I’m going to head out now,” you said to both extremely tall men.

“Wait. Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Where I need to go,” you replied with a snarky tone.

“It’s not safe out there for you Y/N. And besides you still need to take some time to heal,” Dean said.

“And you think a foster home is safe? That’s right I heard your little conversation. I’d much rather deal with vamps, werewolves, shifters, demons, and whatever else than another foster home. Have y’all ever been in one?” you said.

Both men bowed their heads down and shook them no.

“Exactly, the last home I was in was awful. They had six foster kids and didn’t care. They were just in it for the money. The older boy was a perv and looked in my room every time I changed and the “mom”, and I use that term loosely, she would get us to do her chores and if we didn’t we she would hit us. After the third time she hit me I hit the road. At least a monster I can kill.”

Sam and Dean looked at you with sadness in their eyes. The same look everyone gave you when you told them your story.

“Anyway like I said before I’ll be going now.”

“You need protection though Y/N. You’re still just a kid,” Dean said.

“Trust me GI Joe I don’t need protection. I’ve been shooting and fighting since I was 9, another foster family, long story, and I’ve been hunting since I was 13.”

“Y/N you should at least have someone with you,” Sam said with concern laced in his voice.

“Look, I was in the foster system my whole life. Mom was a druggy and Dad was a killer or something so no one wanted to adopt a baby with that much baggage. I’ve pretty much had to have my own back my whole life. So, I’m going to continue hunting, and staying in shelters and doing what I do.”

“Fine,” Dean said matter of factly. He glanced at Sam seeming to ask him something silently and Sam nodded. “How about this. You continue hunting and doing whatever, but you do it with us. We have a …. home base …. of sorts and it has plenty of room. This way you don’t have to stay in shelters and you can continue hunting and you got people watching your back,” Dean pleaded.

“Yeah Y/N. I get the whole lone wolf thing. I really do but regardless of gender or age you shouldn’t be hunting alone. It’s always nice to have some to watch your back and besides you might end up watching our backs more than we end up watching yours considering how you handled those vamps back there,” Sam said with a grin on his face making a let out a slight chuckle.

“I don’t know. I barely know you guys. For all I know you guys could be weirdos that take teenage girls and lock them in a dungeon to play with like dolls,” you said with a slight grin on your face.

Dean chuckled and said, “Well, I can assure you we don’t do that.”

“I’m reluctant, but given that Garth trusts you guys with his life and I trust him with mine I guess I could give y’all a chance. Besides I could really use something other than a cot to sleep in. Those things kill my back and leave me stiff in the morning,” you replied. Both men smiled and y’all left Louisiana and headed towards the bunker in Kansas.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1 Year Later *

Turns out moving into the bunker with the boys was the best decision you ever made, not that you would tell them that. They turned into the big brothers that you didn’t know you always wanted and needed. The only brothers you had were your foster ones that either tried to get in your pants or beat you up. So, having family that actually cared about your wellbeing was nice. You loved that you were loved.

Like any older brothers they became extremely over protective over you. They were always trying to get you to stay behind on hunts but you would argue to no end and after a while they couldn’t say no to you. Even though their over protectiveness was annoying as hell you loved that too.

While your mind wondered off the guys caught a case. A possible wendigo in Colorado. They grabbed your attention to let you know the info and you guys went through your usual back and forth.

“Y/N, please stay behind for this one,” Dean asked. Which was strange because he usually just demanded, but you were not going to relent.

“No Dean. I’m coming with you guys. Like I always say you got my back, I have yours. I know you don’t like me going into dangerous situations but I need to. I need to make sure you come back,” you said.

“Fine. It’s just stay close to us ok? The last time we hunted one of these I almost became wendigo food.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” you said with a chuckle. “And I promise.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were now standing in the middle of the Colorado woods screaming out for Sam and Dean. They were nowhere to be found leaving you with the conclusion that the wendigo took them.

“Shit shit shit shit,” you muttered to yourself. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

You had never hunted a wendigo before so to say you were freaking out would be an understatement. The only thing keeping you somewhat sane was the fact that you had read just about all the lore on wendigos that you could.

You decided to camp out in the woods that night thanking the lucky stars that you packed yourself a supply bag. You drew Anasazi symbols around your little camp site to keep you protected and started to strategize. You knew that the best chance to catch the wendigo out was at night, but you also knew that that was when they were at their best so you would have to run your chances. You had your two flare guns locked and loaded and in your waistband. Now all you had to do was wait.

About two hours later you heard a voice. It was Dean’s voice calling out for help. You knew that wendigos had voice mimicry abilities and that Dean would never call out for help so you knew it was the wendigo setting a trap. You grabbed your torch and followed the voice anyway.

You heard rusting in the leaves knowing it was probably the wendigo using its super speed. Your conclusion was confirmed when the wendigo tried to grab you, leaving deep scratches on your arm, but you burned his hand with your torch and it ran.

After a bit of walking you came across a cave which is where you knew wendigos called home so you that was your best bet at finding the boys. The minute you entered you saw Sam and Dean, arms hanging from the ceiling. Sam was still unconscious, but Dean was awake and looked at you with wide eyes as you stalked towards them to free them. However, your efforts were thwarted when the wendigo appeared and threw you back against the wall leaving more deep scratches on your stomach.

The wendigo was coming towards you when you were trying to get up. When it tried to grab you again you ducked and kick it. You went to grab a flare gun from your waist band when the wendigo grabbed your leg leaving more scratches and dragged you towards it. When it had you in front of it you raised your other leg and kicked it in the face. With it distracted You grabbed the flare gun from your waist band and lit the bitch up.

The screams of the wendigo woke Sam and both guys just looked at you with shock and awe. You totally kicked ass. I mean they knew you were badass, but this was a whole new level. You gave them a cocky grin and trudged towards them to get them down. Once they were both down Dean grabbed you to give you a once over not liking the condition you were in, but gave you a hug and thanked you for saving his and Sammy’s ass. Sam then grabbed you and hugged and thanked you too.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at the motel both guys insisted that you should be patched up first since you looked a little worse for the wear. So, you sat on the bed while Sam worked on the scratches on your leg and Dean worked on the scratches on your arm. After they finished Dean went to work on your stomach, which arguably looked a lot worse than the rest. You laid back on the bed and hissed at each touch as Dean fixed you up. When he was finished, you sat up and he kissed the crown of your head.

You offered to patch them up but they waved you off saying their scratches were no big deal and that they were fine. You didn’t argue instead opting for the Winchester sandwich hug that you loved so much.

You all decided to go to the bar to celebrate the victory and to celebrate how badass you were.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once at the bar Sam ordered a beer, Dean a whiskey, and you a coke because the guys would never let you drink, which at times like this bothered you but you let it go.

“You kicked that things ass Y/N,” Dean said. “You went all GI Jane on his ass. Like you were fucking awesome. Like god damn Wonder Woman or some shit.”

“What can I say I got skills. And you guys always worry,” you said with a giggle.

“Yeah well looks like this time you saved our asses and looked much more badass doing it than we ever could,” Dean said.

“Yeah I mean I was unconscious for most of it, but the fact you killed the thing on your own is badass,” Sam said.

“Thanks guys really. I mean I could have used the help more than you needed the nap Sammy, but I handled it,” you said as all three of you laughed.

At that moment Dean lifted his glass and his face got serious. You and Sammy followed suit and waited for Dean to begin.

“In all honesty, you did kick ass tonight, but you also saved our lives so here’s looking at you, kid. Because me and Sammy were screwed. Had it not been for you Sammy and I would be just another hunter statistic. We couldn’t have asked for a more badass or more wonderful little sister,” Dean toasted as Sam said, “Ditto.”

You had tears welling in your eyes at his words. You considered them your brothers and they acted as such but you didn’t actually think they would actually call you their sister.

“Damn it Dean. You’re making the badass cry. If we’re getting serious here, I was so freaking terrified. I thought I lost you guys. I never had a family. I never got that “forever family” a lot of foster kids get but with you guys I have that. I am so thankful for that. I never thought I would have that so the thought of losing it, I couldn’t bear it. I love you guys and besides I was just returning the favor,” you said as you wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes.

“We love you to, kiddo. We love you too,” Dean said as he pulled you into a hug placing a kiss to the crown of your head. After a moment Sammy joined in and you couldn’t help but think that this was your family. You finally got everything you always wanted. Was it conventional? No, but it was your life and you were happy and loved and that’s all you needed and you knew that’s what the guys needed too.

Tags: Let me know if you want on the list

No.

What really bothered him was knowing that that guy, the one that was practically undressing her with his eyes and would never know her like Dean did, was, in fact, the person that could give her everything the green-eyed man couldn’t, the person that had a chance to be with her in a way he could only dream of on the nights he had had too much to drink and allowed his mind to wander to such places.

So, he pretended to listen as Sam talked about a case he’d caught wind off, pretended to smile charmingly at the waitress when she came to see if he needed anything else, and tried to ignore the way his stomach churned and how white hot range pierced through his gut like gas poison every that that douche grazed her skin with his filthy hands.

But he’d had more than just a couple of drinks that night and the alcohol along with the obscene jealousy cracked a hole in the walls he’d spent years crafting up.

So, when Blue Eyes leaned in, mouth dangerously close to hers, he slammed his glass on the table, stood from his chair without thinking and was next to her in a second, hand closing around her upper arm.

“Dean, what-”

“We’re leaving.” He growled, pushing her out of the chair in aggravation.

“But I thought-”

“I said we’re leaving.” He repeated through gritted teeth.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but he ignored her, turning to the man that was looking at him in irksomeness.

“Sorry, man. Guess you’ll have to use your hand tonight.”

And then, he was dragging Y/N out of the bar and into the cool dark night, moving between pools of streetlight as she struggled against his grip and yelled at him in frustration, a venom in her voice that had never been there before, no matter how pissed at him she was.

“What the hell was that about?”

Instead of replying, Dean growled and kept walking, discounting the passers-by that were eyeing them in bemusement blended with suspicion.

It only egged her on.

“Hey. I’m talking to you.” Still no response. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Letting out a loud groan, he stopped to look at her, grip incredibly tight around her wrist.

“What am I doing? What are you doing, Y/N?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. That guy in there? You can do so much better than him.” He spat, holding one arm away from his side. “I mean, come on! Putting his hands on you like that? You hate that sleamy shit.”

She chuckled humorlessly, clenching her jaw.

“Right.” she breathed out. “Of course, you’d say that.”

“Of course I’d- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m sick and tired of you treating me like a child, Dean.” She snapped, face blazing with anger. “I’m not ten anymore. In fact, I’m a grown ass woman and I don’t need you to protect me. So, just back off and mind your own damn business.”

Her words came out harsh, a masterful stab in a heart that was already bleeding out for her, a heart that had her name woven on it through love and tears and adoration.

He winced, eyes closing shut for just a second.

“You don’t mean that.” He whispered.

Sighing, she huffed air through her nose, not quite a laugh.

“I…  You know what, just leave it alone.” She said, turning her back to him.

“No, I’m not -hey, where are you going?”

“Back in the bar. Someone has to apologize for that attitude of yours, you know.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He chanted, fingers wrapping around soft skin again in an instant.

“Jesus Christ, you jackass. Let go of my hand.”

“No.” he spat, jaw set and eyes narrowed on her. “You and I are going back to the motel room.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“You’re an ass, you know that? You’re willing to screw everything in a skirt but God forbids I go back home with someone I like.”

“That’s not what this is about and you know it, Y/N.” He howled, the muscle of his jawline twitching dangerously.

“Then what is it about, huh?”

He looked at her, mind brimming with what ifs and shouldn’ts.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I don’t want to know? I just asked you, Dean, so you can bet your-”

“Dammit, Y/N, he was going to kiss you.”

The words were out of Dean’s mouth before he had the chance to stop them and all he could do was curse under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair once they were already spoken.

She didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, yes, Dean.” She snickered. “People that are attracted to each other tend to do that.”

“I didn’t want him to kiss you.”

“You -what?”

She was confused now, brows furrowed together and head titled to the left, and he was already regretting this, already hating on himself for saying too much.

Drawing a deep breath, he ran a hand over his face.

“Nothing.” He lied, wetting his lips. “Just… Forget about it.”

“Oh, no. You don’t get to say crap like that and expect me to just forget about it.” She accused, brandishing a finger at him.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. He hated fighting with her, loathed it more than anything in the world, but he’d already put his foot in his mouth for the night and he had to live with the consequences.  

So, he shrugged nonchalantly and let go of her hand in faux indifference, ready to upset her, to get her mad and yelling, to do anything just to push her away from him.

“Whatever, Y/N.”

“Whatever?” she repeated, voice laced with disbelief. “Whatever? You can’t just- for God’s sake, Winchester, what is your fucking problem?”

“My fucking problem?” he bellowed, dam breaking as he looked at her hardened expression. “My fucking problem is that I fucking love you.”

It came out in a howl, frustrated and rushed and gruff, almost too gruff, words that had been left unspoken for years making their way into the navy sky.

“My fucking problem is that I have to stop myself from kissing you every single goddamn day because I don’t fucking deserve you. My fucking problem is that every time I spent the night with someone, I wish it was you. My fucking problem is that I can’t get you out of my fucking head and I don’t even want to try, Y/N. My fucking problem,” he whispered, managing a sad smile that wobbled right off, “is that I wish I knew how to quit you. But I don’t.” he breathed in, voice wavering. “And, God, sweetheart, I can’t.”

Silence.

Nothing but the sound of crickets, of vibrant voices, laughing, talking, bickering, nothing but the sound of his own heart beating wildly within his chest traveled through the cool evening air.

Somehow, that made everything scarier.

“I don’t want you to quit me.” She whispered at last, so soft and low he might have missed it.

He stared at her then, taking in wet eyelashes and smudges of pink on her skin that hadn’t been there before.

“You…?”

“Do you know what it’s like to watch someone you’ve been in love since you were a kid,” she started, scraped and a bit chocked, big, sad eyes locking into his, “keep you just out of reach all the time? Do you know what it’s like to live with him and have him smile and wink at you and know that he loves you but not in the way you want him to?”

“Sweetheart-”

“I don’t want you to quit me.” She repeated, biting her bottom lip.

And, suddenly, all those endless nights they’d spent huddled up together after a hunt, all the soft looks and the gentle touches when she patched him up, the smiles and the twinkling in the eyes and the off-handed comments about his escapades with other women, everything made sense.

“God, we’re so…” he shook his head, a nervous chuckle escaping him as his fingers ran through his short locks. “C’mere, kid.”

She nodded and he met her halfway, hands threading into the hair above the nape of her neck like they’d always belonged there, forehead pressed against hers as her hands slid up his arms gingerly.

He laughed, breathy and loose, drunk on the closeness and the things she was making him feel and her touch and her.

“I’m such an idiot.” He whispered, clasping her cheek tenderly.

“We both are.” she muttered, leaning close enough for him to taste the beer she’d been drinking earlier.

“Jesus, I wanna…” he paused, eyes drifting to her lips. “Can I-?”

“You better.”

He sighed in relief and ducked in, mouth pressing against hers gently, warm and delicate until he couldn’t help it and grinned into the kiss, then pulled back to look at her, eyes bright and alive.

She was smiling at him, cheeks heated and lips pink and so inviting and he growled low at the back of his throat, one arm wrapping around her waist.

“Last warning.” He whispered, wrecked and rough against her ear.

“Mmmm?” she hummed, nuzzling into his chest.

“If I kiss you one more time, I’m never letting go again.”

“Well,” she grinned, sparkling gaze drifting over the freckles on his face, “I think I can live with that.”

He beamed at her -actually beamed, green orbs studying the slim Y/E/C rings in her eyes, the flecks and specks of color in them, and then his lips found hers once more, and he was finally kissing her like he’d always wanted, slow and thorough, mouth opening hers, tongues dancing together, sweet and bitter tastes blending as she gave everything right back, baring her soul to him like no one has ever done before.

And Dean tasted everything, the love and the longing and the guilt and the pain, and he wondered, there, in the middle of the street, with the stars and the moonlight as witness of that newfound connection, God, he wondered how he could have been so blind.

You waited until the red light on the stage door turned off, indicating the cameras were no longer rolling, before you opened the door.  The stage was dim, and you saw the boys in one of the extra Impalas in between filming a scene, surrounded by the backdrops of a rainy night.

As quietly as you could, you walked to the food services table, clearing a spot in the middle for you to set up the things you had brought.  You heard voices behind you indicating that the cameras were rolling once more, so once you were finished setting out the treats you turned to watch Jensen and Jared work.

You had finally gotten around to watching all the episodes of Supernatural up until the most recently aired ones, spending many weekends and evenings on your couch snuggling with ‘Dean’ in real life.  You liked the show, sure, but you liked the actor more, and spent every moment watching making fun of Jensen.

You watched for just a few minutes before the director yelled, “CUT!”  You watched the boys sigh, Jensen’s head leaning back against the seat.  Deciding to give them a sugar boost, you grabbed a slutty brownie for each boy before tapping an AD on his shoulder, asking if you could take them the sweets.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, nodding.  “I actually think that was a wrap, but the director’s just looking over the footage to make sure.  Go for it.”

You smiled, headed for the car.  The instant Jensen saw you, his face lit up.  Jared said something to him, earning a punch from Jensen in return, and you laughed. Jared always teased Jensen at the way he acted when you were around, but you know Jensen didn’t really mind.

You leaned into the window on Jensen’s side, holding out the dessert.  “Hey boys, I brought you something sweet to keep you going,” you said, and Jared immediately grabbed the brownie, putting half of it in his mouth in one bite.

“I think I’ll take this instead,” Jensen said smoothly, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a kiss.  You smiled against his lips at his dorky line, but kissed him back anyways.  “Mmm, the sweetest of all,” he mumbled when he ended the kiss, making both you and Jared laugh.

“You’re a dork, Jen,” you replied, handing him the brownie.  He took a bite, grinning.

The director chose that moment to speak.  “That’s a wrap.  We’ll meet back up at 8 for scene 3B.”

You stepped back so that Jensen could open the car door, grabbing your hand as the three of you walked toward the stage door.  They saw that the crew had all descended upon your table of treats, and many yelled their thanks in your direction as you left.

“They love when you bring food, babe,” Jensen commented, and you nodded.  You all walked out into the sunshine, the angle of the sun hitting your Firebird beautifully.

“They love when you bring your car, too,” Jared added, noting that there were a few crew members appreciating your car.

“Yeah, she’s the prettiest on the lot, isn’t she?” you replied, walking toward your car.  

“Hey!” Jensen replied, his hand slipping from yours and putting his hands on his lips.  “Not the prettiest!  Baby’s the prettiest!”

You raised your eyebrow at your boyfriend, argument on your tongue.  “I’m sorry that you’re intimidated by my beautiful car, Jensen, but I have to disagree.  The Firebird is much prettier, runs better, and you know you can’t argue.”

Jensen looked toward Jared for help, but the taller man held his hands up to show that he was staying out of the argument.  Jensen’s mouth opened and closed a few times, looking like a fish.

To prove your point, a few other crew members stepped out of the stage 3 door, one of them loudly saying, “Ah, yeah!  Y/N brought her ‘bird!”

A defeated look crossed Jensen’s face and you watched him begin to pout.  “It’s okay, babe,” you consoled him, patting him on the shoulder like he was a child.  “It’s not your fault that people like my car better.”

Jensen grumbled, the only thing you could make out from his lips being, “Nobody puts baby in a corner…” which made you laugh.  Jared joined you, pulling Jensen along as the three of you made your way toward Jensen’s trailer, ready to fill him with sweets and coffee (and maybe a few kisses when Jared wasn’t looking) to make him feel better.

Forever Tag

@adaliamalfoy @alicat-life @allinhishands @angelus320 @atc74 @attractiverandomness @ayeeitsemry @bohowitch @bulletscrossbowpie @chelsea072498 @chloeaacole @cosmicpeanuthologram @deanswhiskeyveins @demondeansdomme @docharleythegeekqueen @donnaintx @fandommaniacx @fangirl1802 @feelmyroarrrr @freefood45 @fuckyeahfeysand @holahellohialoha @iamnotsaneatall @its-my-perky-nipples @jalove-wecallhimdean @jayankles @jotink78 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @katymacsupernatural @keelzythe2nd @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @lakama15 @marasficrecs @mestiza003 @mogaruke @moosesamdeancasbees @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @mrstheorossix3 @mrswhozeewhatsis @my-angel-with-a-shotgun @nadiandreu7 @notnaturalanahi @ohgodjensen @remybosslika @ruprecht0420 @sandlee44 @sgarrett49 @skybinx-blog @sleep-silent-angel @slightlysoftgrunge @smalltowndivajessica @smoothdogsgirl @spn--princess @spontaneousam @theoriginalvicki @too-much-winchester @vodkaluh @whispersandwhiskerburn​

Jensen Tag

The rush of maple syrup flooding your nose was what truly woke you up. You glanced down to see a plate of pancakes and eggs being slid in front of you. 

“There you go darlin’,” said the waitress, setting down two more plates at the same booth. One was an egg white omelette with what looked liked peppers, the other plate filled with waffles, bacon, sausage. She walked away before you could ask anything, too in awe at the moment of your surroundings. There was a couple in the back corner, done with their food but playing footsie discreetly while they shared a piece of pie. There was a trucker a few booths down, bags under his eyes as he shoveled food in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten all day. The window to your right showed a pitch black sky, the clock over the far wall saying it was just after 11pm.

You turned in your seat and saw an older man eating at the counter, talking to your waitress like he was a regular, dressed as though he had a night shift starting soon. You shifted back around in your seat, looking at the food. You didn’t remember going out or who on earth you would have gone out with. It wasn’t like Mitch would have came here. Besides, he was traveling for work this week. Well, not really but that was another issue. You pinched yourself, just to make sure you weren’t crazy but only wound up with two red marks on the back of your hand.

What exactly was going on?

“Good, food’s done,” said a man from behind you. You turned in your seat just in time to watch one slide in next to you, another taking the seat across. The fact that you recognized them didn’t make you feel any better.

“And what can I get you two boys?” asked your waitress, walking back over and speaking to the men, the blonde one to your left already digging into his food.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said, pointing at your glass of orange juice. 

“Coffee black,” said the other. The waitress poured the pot of coffee she’d been walking around with into the brown haired man’s cup, the other man stealing a sip of your drink while he waited for his own. They were hungry, eating quietly and quickly as you simply sat and stared.

“Here you go,” said the waitress, putting the glass of OJ down, handing you a second one for yourself.

“Thank you Nancy,” said the man, giving her a kind smile before she went back to talking to her friend at the counter.

“Your food okay, Y/N? You were starving ten minutes ago,” said the one seated across, nearly halfway done by now.

“Want something else?” asked the one to your left. “We can run through a drive through when we’re done.”

“Who-Who are you?” you asked, the answer impossible even if you knew it already. Both men stared at you before each other. The one next to you ran a hand over your head and you felt only slightly better.

“How hard did you hit your head?” he asked, slightly teasing but mostly concerned. “It’s us sweetheart. Dean,” he said, pointing to himself. “That’s the less handsome Winchester, Sam.”

“That’s not really possible,” you said, not panic rising up but something else. 

Relief.

“You’re starting to scare me,” said Dean, his thumb running over your cheek, pulling on on the skin around your eye to get you to look at him. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“I don’t think a hospital will help,” you said. Sam opened his mouth to speak when the trucker stood up and Dean slid out of his seat.

“Just hang back, sweetheart. We’ll take care of this one,” said Dean. Sam stood as well and all three men looked at one another, someone waiting for something to happen. The trucker stared them down before his hands changed, long nails appearing, snarling sharp teeth growling at them. The few others at the diner had noticed and suddenly everyone was booking for the door. 

The young couple ran out the back as Sam ducked a blow that would have laid him out. You decided to get out of your seat, not wanting to be trapped if it came to it. But the waitress and the shift worker were trying to pull you along with them outside like good people would in that situation.

You shook them off and apparently that was all the effort they were going to give as they quickly ran off, a chef rounding the back of the building and hopping in his car, leaving just the four of you there. 

You turned around just in time to see Dean stab the thing with a long blade. It fell to the ground and the brothers quickly looked around. 

“Screw it, we don’t got time for a clean up,” said Sam, running into the back. Dean quickly ran behind the counter, pouring some grease from the stove Sam was handing him on the ground. You watched through the pass through window as Sam jogged back out, a fire appearing that would move fast once it caught the grease.

“Y/N, we got to go,” said Sam, one of his hands on you, spinning you around back towards the door. 

“Come on sweetheart, we’ll figure out what’s going on in that head of yours,” said Dean, his hand on your back too, gently guiding you to the door Sam held open. “There was a hospital on the-”

You woke up in the middle of your kitchen, a pile of maple syrup soaking your feet from where you glanced down. You stepped out of it, hopping up on your kitchen counter and shoving your feet under the sink, cleaning them off.

“You’re losing it Y/N,” you said. You must have fallen asleep standing up. “Just another...”

There were sticky footprints on your floor, walking out of your kitchen and towards the bathroom. You followed them, seeing a messy washcloth on the floor with syrup stuck on it. You spun around, walking around your apartment until you found a note taped to the back of your front door.

Sorry for the mess. Not sure what’s going on. I’m going to the Night Owl Diner to see if that fixes whatever just happened. Your boyfriend stopped over by the way. He’s a cheating dick so I dumped his ass for you. You’re welcome. - Y/N

“Well I already knew that,” you said, planning on doing the deed yourself when he got back into town this weekend if he ever left in the first place. “But what the-”

“What are you doing!” you heard someone yell at you, Dean, your lungs suddenly full of smoke as you were carried over a shoulder. You couldn’t do anything but cough and try to get air back in your body. “Why did you run back inside?”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” asked Sam, your body suddenly being sat in the backseat up against Dean. Sam slid in behind the wheel, taking off and getting out of there as you opened your eyes and saw the last bits of the diner burn down.

“I don’t...” you said, Sam slamming on the brakes, lurching you and Dean into the footwell.

“Sammy!” Dean yelled, helping you sit up and get back on the seat. 

“What is this?” asked Sam, holding up another note in your handwriting.

I’m sorry Sam. You were a great friend to me and loved me like a sister. I’m sorry Dean. I tried to love you the way you deserve, the way you loved me but I just can’t. I think this is the Y/N you were always supposed to have, both of you.

Y/N...I’m sorry to you most of all. I remember why this happened now, how it happened. I wanted a normal life. You have it. I’m taking it. You can’t get me to come back, it doesn’t work that way. I’m doing this for your own good.

“Who are you?” asked Dean, pushing you away a little, your body too caught up at still trying to recover from laying in the middle of a burning building for who knows how long to be freaked out.

“Dean,” said Sam. “Give her a second.” You opened your eyes, a pair of hard green ones staring back. Ones that looked like his heart had just been torn in two. Sam wasn’t as angry but it was obvious he was hurting. Family was everything to them and the Y/N they knew just threw them away and gave you to them as a consolation prize. 

“Bitch,” you said. You must have been the good one then in this screwed up situation. They grew more impatient as you heard sirens in the distance. You needed to leave. Now.

“Talk,” said Dean, sitting on the other end of the back bench, no longer concerned about helping you. You sighed and ended up in a coughing fit that made Sam turn around in his seat and start driving off. “I said-”

“She fucked me over too so give me a fucking minute,” you said, resting your head against the cool glass. “To think I always thought you were the sweet one.”

“The sweet one?” Sam asked from the front. Dean groaned.

“Wait. Don’t say that you’re from that universe where our lives are a tv show,” said Dean. 

“Fine, I won’t say it then,” you said, looking around the car, finding a little green toy solider stuck in the back door panel.

“How could she do that to us?” asked Dean, looking to Sam. “She was my girlfriend! We were her family and she just...decided she wanted to not only leave us but get out of our fucking universe? She hated us that much?”

The air in the car was heavy and tense and you would throttle the other you if you ever got a chance. She stole your life for starters but then...she just had to break them and left you to clean up the mess. 

“What do we do with her?” asked Sam, pulling into a motel parking lot. Dean sighed as he caught your gaze.

“Get her a room and we’ll figure this out in the morning,” he said, already moving to climb out the back door. You followed and nearly fell over when your head spun, Sam’s hand on your arm the only thing stopping you from falling.

“We’ve got two beds,” said Sam. “She can-”

“Her own room Sammy. I can’t stand to look at that face for one more second tonight.”

“It’s me, Gabriel the archangel, the trickster?” he offers.

“No, Gabriel died, too long ago,” you mumble softly to yourself, shaking your head and stepping away.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Gabriel pleads.

“You’re lying, just like monsters do,” you shake your head and shrink back further into the corner.

“When you were fifteen your sister died from a Demon attack, the boys think she died in a car accident. It left you because it wanted you to suffer,” he says softly reaching his arms towards you.

“Gabe,” you breathe and throw yourself into his arms.

“I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“Damn straight,” you mutter as you hug him. You let him go and step away.

“I’m so sorry I left you, I never thought he would actually try to kill me,” Gabriel apologizes.

“Gabe,” your voice is quiet, but harsh.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve let you know that Luci didn’t kill me,”

“You should’ve,” you agree softly.

“Sugar I’m so sorry, I love you, it just wasn’t safe for me to be with you, then,” Gabriel apologizes again.

“Gabriel,” you mumble.

“Y/n I’m sorry,” he apologizes once more without an actual explanation.

“Gabriel love means never having to say you’re sorry,” you cry at him. He looks at you curiously.

“I do love you Y/n, I just had to leave you and now I’m apologizing for leaving,” he whispers.

“And I love you, I just got over losing you I can’t have you barging right back in as much as I want that. I can’t risk being hurt again,” you state softly.

“Are you breaking up with me sweet?” he asks, using one of his many nicknames for you. He’d always called you his favorite sweet before he ‘died.’

“No, I just need some time, I hope that I can warm back up to the idea of you and me but right now I can’t,” you explain, his wings are wrapping around him as you say it.

“You’ve had time,” he pleads, one of his wings reaching towards you. You take a step away and avoid the hurt look on his face.

“I had to grieve you Gabe, I had to learn to live with the fact that the only person I’ve ever loved like that was gone,” you state, looking at the archangel.

“Please just stay with me,” he pleads, his whiskey eyes searching your e/c eyes for some hint that you aren’t serious about leaving.

“Gabriel I’m sorry, but I can’t risk being hurt like that again,” tears are prickling your eyes as you say it.

“What if you stay here and I’ll come back tomorrow?” he asks.

“I’m heading back to the Bunker tonight,” you mumble. His face lights up and he glances towards your duffel bag.

“So I’ll come with you,” he says excitedly.