A Perfect Life. (Dean Imagine)

Request:  Where somebody gives Dean the choice to have a white picket fence life with three kids running around or have the hunting life with the reader.

A/N: Again, Im not basing the monsters (In this case, witches) off of those from the show. Im doin my own thing with it!

Deans P.O.V

This hunt was really starting to suck. I fucking hated this life sometimes, more often then not. Here I am, walking in a smelly ass sewer with a faulty ass flash light, when I could be at home, watching Star Trek and eating pizza. Why did I have to be the one to walk in urine and waste? Sam was fully capable of doing this himself, But, the kid used the ‘I need to do the research’ bit. Whatever. Like couldn’t do that part for once? And then there was Y/N…but, no. No I would never let her go down here by herself. She’s safe with Sam, and thats all that matters.

If there was one thing I hated more than hunting though, it was witches. They always lived in the dirtiest, creepiest places, and if you had more than one person with you, they could smell you out like a freshly baked pie. Hence the reason I was alone, leading me back to my point: I hated witches.

"Babe? You okay?" Y/N’s voice echoed softly through the earpiece I wore. We both knew that reception was soon to be lost, "You’ve been quiet for a while."

"Have I ever told you that I hate witches?" I flinched as the brithness of my flashlight landed on a fat rat, "And how creepy they are?"

Y/N chuckled, “About a hundred times. Sam says your almost there, though. Just about a mile.”

I sighed deeply, “Fine. Keep talking to me, please. It calms me down.”

"Do you remember the time we went to karaoke?" She began immediately, causing a smile to rise on my face, "It was one of  our only days off, and the fucking DJ was a vamp. You," She laughed, "You were so pissed that it interrupted your song…what was it that you sang again?"

"Heat of the moment." I reminded her, ignoring Sam’s ‘I hate that song’ in the background, "I was singing it to you."

"Yeah, thats right." Y/N’s smile was almost heard, "You were mad because you thought that everything you’ve ever done for me gets screwed up."

My flashlight dimmed and I shook it in hopes that it would brighten up, “It does.”

"No it doesnt." She grew serious, "Everything you do for me  comes from your heart, baby. You are a sap, whether you’ll admit it or not."

"Only for you." 

"Yeah, only for me. I love you."

My heart fluttered every time she said that, “I love you, too.”

"Do you-"

The line went dead, but I wasn’t surprised. It did so just as I reached an old, rusted steel door. God, I hate witches. It was a good thing that killing them was easy. All I would have to do was get information from her, cut her tongue out, and stab her in the heart. No big deal.

"Dean Winchester." The door flew open, and there she stood, ugly as ever with a creepy ass smile spread across her face, "You’ve come for answers, I see. Please, come in."

I rolled my eyes, shoving my knife in her face until she backed up, “All I need to know, is how to reverse the spell that you have on this town.”

"I haven’t the slightest idea of what you mean." She hissed, brushing past me and to an old chair that looked like it would break if so much as a hair landed on it, "Have a seat, my dear." She motioned to the seat next to her, "I think we’ll be here a while."

"I’m fine standing, thank you. The spell I was speaking of was the one where you have these kids killing their parents." I tilted my head and twirled my  knife. She knew that she was no match for me, "Ring a bell?"

"You’re not very happy with your life, are you?" Her voice was amused by my expression, "NO? Well, I can fix that."

"I dont want anything from you, only for your participation."

"Think about it." She ignored, "You could have your mother back, yes?"

I only stood still.

"You could have a normal family, with a normal life. A beautiful house, pets, parties, everything a person like you dreams of. Yes, you would love it Dean Winchester." She stood now, making her way to a book that rested on her desk, "I have it right here. The white picket fence life. I can see it now. You’ll be coming home from work to your family. Three kids, running to you with smiles brighter than the sun."

My throat felt swollen and it was hard to swallow.

"You’re getting ready to go have thanksgiving with your family. Sam is engaged and happy, your mother and father are more in love then ever." She smiled when noticing the way my eyes watered, I wonder if she could hear my heart beat too, "And your wife is beautiful. You met her at work. Not this girl you’re with now. No, someone better."

And I snapped out of it, “Shut up.” In just a few steps, I had her pinned against the wall with my knife to her throat, “Give me the reverse spell, or your death will be long and painful.”

She struggled and whimpered before finally going limp, “The spell is in that book I was carrying.” Again, she thrashed, but I was too strong for her, “You’re missing out on the perfect life, Dean Winchester.”

"No." I shook my head and drove my knife through her heart, slow enough to where she was still breathing "That’s we’re your wrong. See, my life may be shitty, but I am happy. And that’s all that matters.” It didn’t take long after that to cut out her tongue, gross by the way, and grab the book before leaving.

Sam and Y/N were waiting for me in the car just as I exited the sewer, and Y/N was by my side before I could take another step, “I was getting so worried. Yommmf-‘

I cut her off with a kiss, which she happily sunk into. I loved the way her lips were so familiar. I loved the way she held me. I loved the way we both smiled into each other. I loved her.

"I love you." I said out loud, pulling away only after Sam cleared his throat, "I wouldn’t trade you for any life. You and Sammy are whats important to me, and thats all I care about."

She smiled, “I love you too, Dean. We both do.” A moment passed before Y/N tilted her head, “Did the witch say something to you?”

"Yeah. But, I’m glad she did. It made me realize how special this life I have with both of you is."

"Okay, this is getting sappy even for me." Sam was next to me now, humor laced in his tone but his eyes sincere, ‘Lets go celebrate. I’m hungry."

"Okay." Y/N and I said together as I laced my fingers with hers. This life might have been shitty, but I kind of liked it, more often then not.

The account of perception that’s starting to emerge is what we might call the “brain’s best guess” theory of perception: perception is the brain’s best guess about what is happening in the outside world. The mind integrates scattered, weak, rudimentary signals from a variety of sensory channels, information from past experiences, and hard-wired processes, and produces a sensory experience full of brain-provided color, sound, texture, and meaning. We see a friendly yellow Labrador bounding behind a picket fence not because that is the transmission we receive but because this is the perception our weaver-brain assembles as its best hypothesis of what is out there from the slivers of information we get. Perception is inference.
—  Atul Gawande, The Itch (2008)
When we’re together at home it’s just me and Zayn. I don’t even think of him being in One Direction. He’s just a sweet little boy. His most annoying habit is the fact he doesn’t ever stop singing – he’s even worse than me.
— 

Perrie Edwards

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