Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary:Sometimes, internet can be helpful with love problems. Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 2.441 A/N: Thank you so much for the notes on the imagine before this one, people! They make me so happy, and I hope you’ll like it too! Friendly reminder, I absolutely love feedback! :) Gif’s not mine!
Growing up as a
hunter sure had its disadvantages. Aside from the constant danger, being
overall socially awkward due to not having time to get to know people, and
always having to be on alert, you also made your peace with having to accept
you didn’t know everything, especially when it came to humans, but you knew
that you had to look for help when you needed it.
“Sam, I need
Sam’s head shot
up and he put the book down, sitting up straight almost immediately, “Sure. Are
you in trouble?”
You cleared your
throat as you sat down across him, and his eyes searched yours,
You’ve never despised a word so much in your god damn life. It mocks you, rips every little aggravation from the world and throws it right into your fucking face. It’s turned your life completely and totally upside down. Then it spun you the fuck around just to make sure you’re officially screwed.
Having just moved from New York two weeks ago, you can now call Nashville home. Forget a different state, you feel like you’re in a freaking different reality. The friendly residents alone throw you for a loop. You’re slightly convinced that they have some ulterior motive. Then again considering the shady fuckers in your past, you could just be paranoid.
Growing up in a big city has given you a tough exterior that the men around here seem to be intimated by. It must be the way you carry yourself, also the permanent bitch face that you’ve acquired over the years.
You’ve finally settled into your new country home, a charming ranch that looks like it was pulled right from Better Homes & Gardens. It’s nothing spectacular but it feels like a mansion compared to your old cramped one bedroom apartment back home.
Characters: Michael, Castiel, Gabriel, Lucifer, Y/N (no pairing)
Word Count: 1,271
Warnings: fluff, bullying
Requested by anon:
Hey! Can I request an imagine where reader is being bullied in school (she’s 13 or 14 in middle school) and the angels protect her/defend her? Thanks! ❤ (Spn fanfic and by angels I mean Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael and Castiel) <3 <3
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic! I find it cute and I am proud of how it turned out! I love you all so much! <3
Middle school was a time for growth and development for all kids. Unfortunately for some kids, it was also a time consisting of name calling, shoving, and rumors. Bullies were relentless in your middle school. Luckily for you, you had angels looking over your shoulders.
You first met these angels when you were having a hard time adjusting to the new elementary school last year. They were your first friends. They were a great help and you loved them from day one, and they loved you. It was a silent promise that they would protect you from danger. Even if that danger involved your teenage peers.
As you were walking home, you decided to dig your headphones out of your backpack. Listening to music was better than hearing the constant ridicule of your peers. Lately things had gotten worse. They started throwing your lunch away and shoving you into the lockers in the hallway. Every book in your arms would fall to the floor. Castiel would usually help you fetch your books. He was more helpful than aggressive, which didn’t bother you.
Summary: The reader wakes up during a hunt one morning with a strange new ability. She can read Dean’s mind. As she discovers some secrets about him, she tries to get herself back to normal without him realizing what’s happening…
A smile tugged at your lips as you looked approvingly up at your boyfriend, savouring the pure normalcy of cooking a meal together and spending an evening in the bunker. You didn’t get to do stuff like this often - especially when you were constantly on the road, hunting down one murderous beastie after another. So whenever you had the chance for domestic and safe, you jumped on it. Today you’d decided to make lasagna. Sam had approved whole-heartedly from behind his computer screen.
“I know, I’m awesome,” Dean said, smirking arrogantly. He’d clearly caught your smile. You rolled your eyes but placed a quick kiss on his cheek, ducking under his arms and heading for the stove.
The pot on the burner held a steaming red sauce, perfectly seasoned using your mother’s old recipe. You delicately dipped the tip of your index finger into the pot, bringing it to your lips to taste.
It was perfect.
That is, until Dean appeared beside you, a long-suffering look on his face.
“Jeez woman, must you do that?”
Dean gently grabbed your hand, holding your still-extended finger up for you both to see. “That.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What? I was just testing the sauce.”
“Couldn’t you use a spoon?”
Indignation flared through you, arms crossing over your chest. “I just washed my hands. They’re clean!”
Dean scoffed, putting down the wooden spoon he was holding. “That’s not why I’m objecting,” he said, voice dropping an octave.
You ignored the involuntary shiver that ran down your spine.
“Well, what is it then?”
“When you do that …” Dean pulled the palm of your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing your skin as he spoke. “You’re just too …” He kissed the inside of your wrist. “Damn …” The fabric of your shirt pulled taught in the fingers of his free hand. “Distracting.”
Before you had time to protest Dean’s lips were on yours, his arm wrapped around your waist as he walked you backwards into the counter. The cold edge of the steel island dug into your back. Within seconds Dean had you off the ground, the cool counter underneath your thighs and his torso wedged between your legs.
“You’re one … to talk … about distractions,” you mumbled in between kisses, letting Dean pull your leg up around his waist.
He smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re so irresistible.”
You smiled against Dean’s lips, pushing your hands against his chest. “True. But …” You pulled back enough to look at him. “We have other things to do right now.”
Dean slumped forward, forehead resting on your shoulder. “Do we have to?” he drawled.
You let out a breathy laugh. “Yes.”
“But we’re finishing this later.”
Mischief lit your eyes as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. Closer to him. Your lips collided with his as he set you back on your feet, his hands tight around your waist and stubbornly holding on.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Summary: The insecure!reader thinks she has no chance with Sam before Dean takes the matters into his own hands. Warnings: None, except excessive use of different fandoms:) Word Count: 1.560 A/N: Thank you everyone for the notes on my first story! I hope you guys like this one too! :)
If this were a
movie, this would be the sad music scene where it’d rain outside and it’d cut
to you lying on your bed while your best friend consoled you.
“Y/N. You have
that stupid look on your face again.”
And instead, you
were stuck with one and only polite Dean Winchester while the waitress flirted
with the love of your life.
Summary: The reader wakes up to surprising news about her and Jensen.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 694
“Y/N L/N! Get your ass up!”
A high pitched shrill invades your dream world as incessant curse words begin littering the air. A blinding light appears and it makes you bury your head deep under the warm covers. The muffled growling noises you hear become much clearer once your sheets are abruptly
“Y/N!” Your best friend huffs. “Don’t make me chuck water onto your head!”
“What the fuck, Steph.”
You moan lowly, snatching your pillow away when she tries to steal it from you. “You psychopath.“
"I’m so mad at you right now. How come you didn’t tell me, woman?!” The bratty behavior continues as she stomps her high heeled boot into your hardwood floor.
“Don’t scuff my floor, dude."
"Oh my god. Focus, Y/N. You need to tell me everything.” Steph collapses down onto your queen size bed and maneuvers into an indian style position.
A/N: This wasn’t requested, but I know you want it ;) I hope you guys enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! :)
With Gabriel now safe and sound back at the bunker, you could see a visible difference in him. It wasn’t just the new clothes, but he was acting differently too. He would smirk and smile at you, the Winchesters, and Castiel. Yet when he turned his head away, the smile dropped from his face almost immediately. No one but you seemed to notice.
“[Y/N],” Dean called for the third time. He was standing in the archway beside Sam. It appeared as if they were going to leave, but you weren’t sure. “Are you coming with us or not? You can stay with Gabriel if you want, but he’s not much fun to be around. The only one who has fun is him.”
“Oh come on Dean-o, we’ve had our share of fun,” Gabriel remarked. He never looked up from his hands which sat in his lap. “I look back on my time as the Trickster quite fondly.” You could see the somber look in his expression.
Your gaze moved back to Sam and Dean, who seemed oblivious to Gabriel’s feelings. Even if they were willing to ignore Gabriel, you weren’t. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” you said with a smile. “That way neither of you have to worry about him pulling any tricks.”
Imagine: You, Castiel, and Jack redefining for one another what it means to be a family. (Warning - SPN season 13 spoilers!)
Castiel’s low voice rumbles, echoing thunder in your ear resting upon the firm
pillow of his chest and disturbing you from the deep serenity of slumber.
shift to sit up in the bed, rubbing the weariness from your eyes and squinting
against the bright light illuminating the figure standing in the doorway. Castiel’s
hand presses flat and soothing to your back in silent apology for waking you. Alertness
flooding with concern for the boy, you ask in a sleep mumbled garble, “What’s
looks up, mouth drawn, brow tensing, features bashful and uncertain of
intruding upon the intimacy of you and the angel so freshly returned from the Empty.
Summary: One of the reader’s students has a problem and she confronts the girl’s father, Dean, about what’s going on. He owns up to his mistake and ends up asking the reader out to appease his daughter. The reader quickly becomes part of the Winchester’s lives and learns what that means as Dean gets a lesson of his own on how he might not be the world’s greatest dad, but he is a good one…
Pairing: single parent!Dean x kindergarten teacher!reader
Word Count: ~60K (individual counts listed in parts)
“You know, if you weren’t so violent you wouldn’t suffer any punching injuries.”
“And if you weren’t so aggravating I wouldn’t need to do any punching!”
Your voice was swallowed up by the bunker’s cavernous rooms, shouting after Dean as he made his way to the kitchen to get ice and leaving you with your hand begrudgingly cradled against your chest. The thought of accepting help from him made you twist in your seat, because what could be more embarrassing than an injury sustained while trying to deck someone else? Especially if that someone was Dean Winchester. You cringed at the thought.
When Dean returned he was carrying a bowl full of ice water, which you lowered your hand into with a wince but made no sound. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Then after a few minutes in the freezing cold Dean finally spoke.
“Alright, come here,” he said, holding his hand out for yours.
You simply glared at him. “And if I don’t feel like it?”
“Well, you can try punching me with the other hand if want, but I doubt that would do you much good.”
You frowned and pulled out of the ice water, wordlessly putting your hand in his.
“Okay, try to open your hand,” he said, causing a slight surge of panic to run through you. But you managed, slow and steady, to unfurl your fingers and splay them out against his palm. It was an effort not to think about the contact. “And close it.” You did. “Does that hurt?”
“Enough to make me want to hit you again,” you muttered.
Dean chuckled at that and only earned himself another glare. “I think you’d better hold off on that for now.”
Once Dean had made you turn your hand up and down and in a circle, did what seemed to be a temperature comparison between your left hand and you right, and made you squeeze his fingers in a gesture far too similar to the “pull my finger” trick for comfort, he finally seemed satisfied. “No immediate bruising, no sunken knuckles,” he muttered, still poking your hand for good measure. “I think you’re okay. A bruised knuckle, fracture at the most. Just try not to move your hand much for the next few days.”
And to that, you didn’t know what to say.
Thank you for looking at my hand? Sorry for punching you in the face? You totally deserved to be punched and I wish I could do it again?
You thought better of the latter and settled on a quiet, “Thanks,” eyes darting down to the floor.
Dean smiled, the beginnings of a bruise forming on his jaw, and said, “You’re welcome,” as he turned to leave. But then he stopped, smirking back and you. “And when that hand’s healed, I’ll teach you how to throw a real punch. Then next time I mouth off you can knock me out instead of just on my ass.”
You couldn’t help but smile.
*These gifs are not mine, both the gifs are from Google Images*
Characters: Lucifer x Reader, Chuck, Sam, and Dean
Word Count: 952
A/N: This was requested by an anon! I hope you all enjoy! I love you all so much! <3 Feedback is welcomed and appreciated!
Sam and Dean watched as Lucifer and Chuck talked to each other. They thought that they would be at each other’s throats, but that wasn’t the case. It felt weird for Dean and Sam to be in the same room as the two of them. At first they were talking about nothing, but now they were talking about everything.
“Have you found your soulmate,” Chuck asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “Where are they?”
“I decided to leave [Y/N] out of this,” Lucifer muttered, letting his arm drop onto his lap. “I don’t need aunt Amara going after her to get to me, to get to you.”
“Wait, Lucifer has a soulmate,” Sam cut in, extending his gaze to Chuck.
“I’m still an angel Sam,” Lucifer noted, rolling his eyes. “All angels have soulmates.”
You hadn’t meant to do it. Certainly not when Dean was within earshot. But it was right there, eight-legged and on your damn desk, and it had to go. Even if you already knew you’d never hear the end of it as you heard Dean’s boots thundering down the hallway.
“Y/N?!” Dean called, bursting through your door with his gun raised. The eldest Winchester gave the room a quick once-over and then settled his gaze on you, assessing for damage with frantic eyes. He lowered his gun just the slightest bit. “Y/N? What happened? … Are you okay?”
You smiled sheepishly at Dean and walked forward, pulling the gun from his calloused fingers with a gentle tug. “I’m okay, it’s just – uh …”
“What? What’s wrong?”
There was no apparent danger and you’d already dropped the gun on the bed, but Dean’s voice was still edged with concern. So you stepped aside and wordlessly pointed at the desk.
The look Dean shot back would make Lucifer himself quiver in his boots.
“A spider?” he said calmly. “You screamed because of a spider?”
“It’s a big spider.”
“It’s the size of my pinky nail!”
“Yeah, well, you have fat fingernails …”
Dean just rolled his eyes and reached for your desk with his bare hand, intending to solve your bug problem, but you caught his wrist mid-swing and stopped him from crushing the eight-legged pest.
“Wait, you need to use a tissue!” you cried.
His eyebrows knit together. “Why?”
“Because you’ll get spider guts on you!”
“So?” Dean just stared at you blank-faced. “Y/N, you do realize you’re a hunter, right? You’ve been covered in monster bits more times than I can count. How is this any different?”
“Because this is spider guts, Dean! Spider guts.”
“Spiders are the spawn of Satan!”
“Okay, we’ve met Satan and I don’t think -”
“Satan, I tell you! Satan!”
You ran across the room and quickly pulled a Kleenex from the box on your nightstand, passing it to Dean and backing up a step in case he missed his target. A motion he noted, if his raised eyebrows were any indication, which only served to make him look even less impressed.
“Okay. I’m killing the spider,” Dean said, holding up the Kleenex for you see, “with a tissue.” You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off before you could, already knowing exactly what you were going to say. “And I won’t miss.”
And he didn’t.
The spider was gone in a matter of seconds and Dean was tossing the crumpled up Kleenex into the trash on his way out the door, looking over his shoulder before leaving and flashing a quick smile. “You’re lucky I love you.”
A/N: Okay, I don’t usually put Author’s Notes on imagines because they’re so short but in this case I felt like I should because I really don’t think this is my best work. I decided to post it anyway because I agonized over this fic for too long to not put it up ( @skymoonandstardust knows what I’m talking about and thank you for putting up with me, girl!) but I just wanted you guys to know that I’m fully aware it’s not that good. Apologies, friends.
*These gifs are not mine, both the gifs are from Google Images*
You invaded his world to the point of no return and he tried grasping at any hint of sanity that presented itself. It was over the second his eyes landed on your curvaceous form, the minute his breath hitched from the glimpse of your smile, the hour you unabashedly talked his ear off about your fluffy German Shepherd.
You wormed your way into Dean’s life so effortlessly that it was unsettling. He exhausted any and all possibilities trying to find out how this occurred. It took months of investigating and plenty of persuasion from Sam, Bobby and Cas but the truth was finally revealed.
It wasn’t a shitty spell by Rowena wanting to teach him a lesson. It wasn’t some fake reality created by Gabriel for his amusement. And it wasn’t some sick joke Crowley orchestrated out of boredom.
A/N: This is the long awaited one-shot I posted a sneak peek of some time last week! I hope you guys enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! :)
When you came back to the bunker after going on your own hunt, Dean was gone and Sam was with Cas. You had a wall of text to read from Sam, but you stopped before you could read it. The thing that stopped you in your tracks was a damaged archangel. One you thought had died a long time ago; one you had loved for many years regardless of what he did and who he was to Sam and Dean.
Your eyes grew wide at the sight of Gabriel. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. Your heart broke a little when he seemed to shrink into his seat. There was blood all over his face and his clothes. You set your bag carefully down on the table and slowly came around the table.
“Hey Gabe,” you spoke softly. You wanted to show him that you were not there to hurt him, but to help and comfort him. You crouched down beside his chair and rested your hand on the arm of the wooden seat.
A little squeak came from the archangel’s lips. After a few seconds of looking at your face, his eyebrows furrowed together. His expression shifted from a frightened one to a relieved one. With a shaky hand, Gabriel reached out and his fingertips brushed across your face. A small hum came from him as he tilted his head to the side.
“Yeah it’s me, [Y/N],” you said with a smile. “I’m sure I look a little different, but not too different, right?” Gabriel gave a small nod in response. “Is it okay if I help you get cleaned up? I’m sure you want to get into some clean clothes.”