Supernatural Oneshots/Imagines

<until we meet again> (dean x reader)

Summary: After swinging into your hometown to include yourself on a highschool reunion, and a hunt, you run into some people you thought you'd never see again... the Winchester brothers.

*smut warning*

You waited outside of your locker, binders and books pulled tight to your chest as you awaited your friends return. Who was the friend in question? Dean Winchester. The charming, mysterious, and stereotypical badboy who had swung into town temporarily with his younger brother Sam while their father was out on a job. You tapped your foot, looking up at the clock above the junior physics class. Dean was normally late, and you always tried to wait till the last minute for him to show. You were known in school as the very much unpopular nerd, so you were confused as to why the boy each and every highschool girl was fanning over was so eager to hang out with you. You and Dean were polar opposites. You were on the superintendents list, and at the rate you were going you sure to have a full scholarship ride to your dream college. But, if you were honest, you didn't want anything that had to do with college.

You always fantasized about traveling around the world, and you surely couldn't do that if you were busy getting a degree in something you didn't care about. You didn't particularly care about school, either, it just came naturally to you. But you kept up the 'hell bent on studying and scholarship ride' personality for your parents and teachers who prided themselves in getting you somewhere good for college. Dean didn't care at all about anything that had to do with learning. He was a smart guy, but school just didn't satisfy him. He'd skip classes or stay on his phone during them when he wasn't interested. And trust me, he was never interested in what the teachers had to teach.

"Hey, look who isn't late for once." Dean grinned as he trotted over to you.
You laughed and peeled yourself off of your locker, "only by-"
The bell chimed and the halls were quickly swarming with people as they raced to get to class.
"Still ain't late, cmon." Dean turned around and held his hands behind his back. Dean always did this for you when the halls were crowded, shoving past people and keeping you safe behind him so you could efficiently travel to your classes. It was great actually, and Dean had mostly all of the same classes as you. You took some classes organized for the more 'gifted' students, learning about topics you would in the next grade or even some college courses so you could build up the credits. You chuckled as you leaned forward. Dean wrapped his hands around your smaller forearms before he started parting the Red Sea of swarming students to usher you to your guys' class: World History.

This was your favorite out of all classes, and it was with your top favorite teacher Mr. Kohlman. He was a beast of a man who you were sure would be a lumberjack if he could. He has a small lisp and a shiny bald head. You constantly insisted on getting him a long wig to wear, just because it would be funny. He told you if you got a scholarship that it would happen.
Dean leans away and pulls you in front of him as he opens the door for you.
"Thank you, good sir." You chuckled up at Dean as you slipped into the room.
"Only for you, m'lady." Dean bows his head and walks in after you.
"Hey, Mr. K." You snickered, walking up to his desk, "today is the day you say yes to the wig." You nod.
He gasps, "did my favorite senior get a scholarship?" He wiggled his eyebrows, his tongue hissing on the 's' words.
"Totally." You say sarcastically, to which he groans and gently shoves you away from his desk. You laugh and grab your binders again to take your seat beside Dean. He leans back in his desk and taps away at his phone, leaning over to see that he was playing flappy bird. You scoff and reach forward to pluck his phone from his hands.

His mouth falls open as he tries to snag it back, to which you pull it further away.
"C'mon, (y/n/n [your nickname]), I almost beat my high score!" He whined, dropping his hands into his lap.
"You could at least try to get good grades. We're seniors, at least try to graduate." You laugh before stuffing his phone into your desk and setting your binders onto the floor. You arranged a binder for Dean, since he was determined to never take notes or jot down important information on the class. You grab his and your binders, placing his on his desk.
"Why would I? Not like I'll be here long enough to graduate." Dean scoffs, sitting up to look through the binder.