Supernatural Imagines: Book Two

You Can Hate Tomorrow (d.w)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: minor angst, hating thunderstorms and being scared

Summary: You and Dean have never seen eye to eye on anything, so when he adopts the same dog that you do, things don't go according to plan. However, one night, Dean comes to his senses and decides that it's time to end the feud between you two.

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"I'm gonna fucking kill him," you grumble as you storm into your house.

Not only are you covered in grime and filth from the hunt you just came back from, but you also didn't even get the kill you've been itching to get.

"The monster is dead, Y/N. Why do you have your panties in a twist?" your brother asks. You whip toward him so fast that some of the guts that are clinging to your clothes fling onto the floor. "Aw, come on. Not on the floor."

"You know why, Danny. It's because of Dean fucking Winchester. He fucking stole my kill! He always steals my kills!"

Danny holds his hands up and backs off, knowing he shouldn't get in your way when you're like this. He should have known better. Dean is a sore spot for you. For nearly as long as the Winchesters, you and Danny have been hunting monsters across the country. There are a lot of kills under your belt, so you had no issue with killing this last monster.

Then Dean Winchester shows up and steals your kill. This isn't the first time that this has happened. You're fucking sick of it, and you're sick of him.

"I swear, the next time I see him, I'm fucking stabbing him." You walk to the stairs. "I'm taking the first shower."

The next morning, you don't feel better about Dean, so you decide to spend the morning at the animal shelter near your house. You love animals and have been looking to adopt a dog for a while now.

You walk inside and already feel ten times lighter.

"Y/N! Welcome!" Stacy, the front office worker, greets you with a smile.

"Hey, Stacy. Can I go back there?"

"Sure. We got one new addition to our family."

You walk into the back with a smile, looking at the animals eagerly waiting for someone to take them home. You wish you could adopt them all, but one will be good for now. All of these dogs look like sweethearts, but you're looking for a specific breed.

In the very back, this German Shepherd is lying on the ground. When he sees you, his tail starts wagging, but he doesn't get up.

"Hi, baby." You kneel in front of the kennel and touch the bars. "You're so pretty. Come here." The dog gets up and walks over to you, and you hold out your hand so he can smell you. Once he deems you safe enough, you scratch behind his ear. "Oh, you're just the sweetest, aren't ya?"

"Ah, I see he likes you," Stacy says from behind you.

"He's a big sweetheart. What's his name?"

"Doesn't have one. There was no collar when we found him."

"How old is he?"

"Three. We got him a month ago. Someone dropped him off in the night. Tied his leash to a post outside."

"Bastards," you curse. "How can anyone leave him behind?"

"What are you looking for?"

"Would you believe me if I said, German Shepherd?" I ask with a chuckle.