Supernatural Imagines [ABANDONED]

I Wasn't Meant to Fall in Love

Dean x Reader

No smut but v suggestive *eyebrow wiggle*

No word count I'm on mobile

~

You survey the crowd of bar-goers, scanning for anyone...elligible. You have just finished a job and you feel you deserve a break. You sip your drink, your eyes landing on a tall, muscular man with sandy blonde hair sitting across from an even taller man with long brown hair. You stare him down, your mind clouded with several variations of the word damn.

His eyes sweep around the bar, finally flickering towards you. He smirks and tilts his beer in greeting. You give him a small wave, letting him know that you are not at all embarrassed to be caught staring. The man with him turns and sees you, giving you a deadpan look you're sure he did not at all intend to be as rude as it was. You give him a sup nod. You watch as his companion grabs his beer and rises from the table, ruffling his friend's hair as he passes.

"You got a stupid line for me or we just gonna cut to the chase?" He looks a bit taken aback at your bluntness, but he swings a leg over a bar stool, all the same.

His eyes roam over your body. Most girls would blush and shy under his gaze, but you are definitely not most girls. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asks cockily.

"Hold on." You throw your head back, tipping the last of your drink down your throat. "Now you can."

He laughs lightly. "I'm Dean," he tells you, extending a hand.

"(Y/N)."

"Well, (Y/N)," Dean tells you, handing you your drink. "I can tell we're gonna be good friends."

~

You collapse onto the bed, panting and gasping for breath, a pleasured smile dancing across your lips. "Friends, huh?"

Dean laughs next to you, sweat glistening on his chest as it rises and falls quickly with his heavy breaths. The laugh crescendos from a throaty chuckle to a full-on belly laugh. It's so pure and genuine that it's contagious, and you find yourself cracking up along with him.

When you wake up the next morning, you wake up with Dean Winchester and a headache. Gently, massaging your temples, you disentangle yourself from his burly limbs and slip out from under the covers. You slide your clothes on, careful not to rouse Dean's sleeping form. You're not really one for surprise breakfast and morning-breath kisses, nor are you one for awkward goodbyes.

Snatching your beat-up purse from the nightstand, you thank your lucky stars that Dean is a heavy sleeper, and that he booked the same motel you were staying at.

You finish packing up your belongings and loading them into your car and just like that, you're on the road again.

~

You're sitting back, celebrating another successful job with a drink, and hopefully a guy, when a familiar face walks through the door.

"Well hell, if it ain't Dean Winchester," you drawl, exaggerating a southern accent. He whips around, looking surprised at first, but soon settling into that familiar smirk.

"(Y/N)," he greets. "Thought you'd disappeared and I'd never have the immense pleasure of seeing you again." He leans up against the bar, flirtation oozing from his every pore.

You turn to face him fully, resting an elbow against the bar. "S'alright, Dean-o. I know when I'm a one night stand."

"Aw, come on-"

"Nah, s'alright. Takes two to tango anyways." He stares at you as you finish off your drink, some foreign emotion in his eyes as he regards you silently.