Oneshots, imagines, and ideas, oh my! *discontinued*

Lucifer Imagine

Hey everyone

So I noticed a pattern In my own writing, in my stuff from Fanfiction.net, from here, and even from my own personal stash. I have three different types of books. (Skip this if you want, it's just a little drabble.

1. Types I write for fun (see here, adopted mischief, helping the winchesters, and chemical insanity)

2. Types people actually like (see here this book, Forever in Darkness and a Demon's Rose)

3. Types I love and desperately want other people to love, because they are my children. (See here, My Drugg other, Cross your fingers, and also forever in darkness)

I just thought that was kind of funny, that I write in these main categories. Anywhore, on with the LUCIFER IMAGINE

Lucifer Imagine

Warnings; Mature content (Violence sexual innuendos) and Cursing

Lucifer Imagine

Y/N sighed as she wiped her face of blood. "This is really, really gross." She muttered.

"Sorry Y/N, it's a dirty job." She rolled her eyes at Dean, who tossed her a towel. "Oh no, I broke a nail. Whatever am I to do?"

"I think the only real option is making a deal with Crowley." She rolled her eyes again and properly wiped her face properly. "At least it got done, right?"
"Sammy, just cram it, please? Go stick your nose in a book." He glared at you and you glared right back, you were in one of many fights. "Oh, trouble in paradise, call the police." Sam stormed out of the room and Dean sighed. "When are you two finally going to finish kicking this dead horse?"
"Don't call our relationship a dead horse, dean. You don't want me around anymore?"

"You know damn well that breaking up with Sammy wouldn't push you out of our lives. You're too great of a hunter for that." She flashed him an award-winning smile.

AND LUCIFER CAME UP AND KILLED HER THE END, BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW PRETTY YOUR SMILE IS IT'S SUPERNATURAL AND SATAN PROBABLY HATES YOU

NOW FOR THE REAL IMAGINE

DID I TOTALLY GET YOU? I TOTALLY GOT YOU.

Destiel Imagine

Warnings: Homosexuality (If you aren't comfortable with it then GET comfy) and fluff

Destiel Imagine-

Apple Pie Life ('cause i'm real original, y'see)

Dean Winchester was sitting quietly in the kitchen, legs sprawled out in front of him lazily, left hand holding a beer ready to tip. His eyes were half closed in a sleepy manner, he was quite obviously in the purgatorial state between wakefulness and sleep. He was dressed in an almost haphazard way, random shirt, pants that don't fit quite right. By looking at him, anyone would get the impression that he had stumbled out of bed only to fall into a chair, beer in hand. It was a type of alcoholic pose that only he could make sexy.

His plump lips were slightly parted, displaying white teeth and providing a deep reflection on his character, for the oddest reason. It was easy to see that through the rugged, tough guy facade, he took care of himself, perhaps a bit too painstakingly. Seeing him in such a vulnerable, telling position humanized him, and for a moment, he wasn't Dean Winchester. The name itself brought along more than a handful of connotations, all of which instilled fear into the hearts of supernatural creatures everywhere. A few of these connotations also had the strangest tendency to make a woman's nethers quiver, oddly enough.

He couldn't understand it, by looking at him. The attraction, specifically. He had a tendency to drink too much and bottle his emotions, he was dangerous and slovenly, and had the most insufferable of seduction techniques. Still, what he lacked in prose he seemed to make up for by practically oozing sex. Perhaps women were attracted to him because he seemed fairly perfect, even with all of his flaws. He knew that wasn't right, though, he was far from perfect.

Dean moved in his sleep, and the bottle hit the floor with a sharp clang, startling the man into the groggy awake. "What the hell?" He groaned, clearly at least slightly drunk as he struggled to stand.

"Let me help you." Castiel ground out, pulling the man up to have him immediately collapse onto him, causing him to grunt. "Cas! You're a friend! I had a dream, you know?" Castiel made a small sound of recognition in his throat as he struggled with the man, trying to support him all the way to his bedroom. "Good dream, too. Like, what if I wasn't a hunter?"
"Irrelevant, Dean," Castiel muttered as he forced the bedroom door open, "you are a hunter."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, but like, what if I wasn't?" Castiel sighed as Dean flopped back on the bed.

"I'm going to leave-" Dean caught his arm. "Just here me out, Cas. C'mon." He gave Dean a weary look, but finally decided that arguing with a drunken Dean was less than worth it.

"Okay, so it starts out like this, right? It's a beautiful little house, green, green grass, white picket fence, classic car in the drive." Dean moved his hands above him as he spoke, as if he were manipulating the very objects he described. "We move inside, and there's this woman. Looks fine as hell, curves like a lava lamp, and two kids looking like happy little elves." Castiel nodded, though he didn't understand more than one of those euphemisms.

"I'm thinking in my head, great, so what's wrong with these guys. Right? Like, what's possessing the mom or haunting the kids or whatever. But then she turns her head around, opens her mouth wide and screams, Dean, Breakfast!" He shook his head. "Before I know what's happening, I come out, wearing what might as well be a Canadian Tuxedo, kiss this woman smack dab on the lips, ruffle her kid's hair, and tuck into a mighty plate of eggs." Castiel almost sighed, because he knew that this was a dream Dean had seen before. It was his perfection, a house with a picket fence and a wife with two children.

"Probably one of the best dreams I've ever had." He let his hands fall and rest on his chest, and he sighed happily. "What about you, angel boy. Best dream you've had?" Cas cleared his throat and shifted a bit.

"I have received many of Jimmy's memories, if that's what you are asking. Otherwise...the only dreams I have ever experienced have included you to at least some degree." Included? That was a bit of a stretch. Dean practically stared in his unwaking moments, where his mind cleared and wandered off, wherever it went.

"Not sexy dreams though, right? None like the pizza man?"
"Of course not, Dean." Again, another lie.

"Good. Because I wouldn't want to have to tell you this, but..."
"But what?"
"I'm rock solid straight."
"I know you are, Dean." The hurt I feel can in no way transcend the barrier of my facial expression.

"And i'll get it, you know."
"Get what?"
"My apple pie life."

I know you will, Dean. There is, unfortunately, no doubt in my mind that you will.

Dean Winchester jerked awake to see his angel sitting in the chair in the corner of his room. He was staring off, vacantly into space.

"Cas?" He caught his attention, causing him to look up in surprise. "Good morning, Dean." He ground out. "How did I...did we talk, before I went to sleep?" Castiel shook his head. "I do not think so, Dean. Why?" Dean shook his head. "No reason. Hey, you know that i'm really, really gay, right?" Castiel gave him a confused look.

"I should hope so, Dean. Otherwise a great deal of our activity makes little sense, and-"
"That's good, Cas." Dean sighed. "Just wanted you to know that."