Destiel Imagines

12. ive got tits? (xreader)

[author's note]

This one is a xreader imagine! First one so far, so let me know what you think and don't forget to vote if you enjoyed the chapter!

(Note: in this imagine you're portrayed as a female character. That's usually the default gender I use for my xreaders since I'm a girl, but if you'd like to read one where you're a guy, that's totally cool! Just PM me and let me know, I'll write one!)

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You bit your lip, walking silently closer to the bed where the witch Mathara lay asleep. You glanced at Dean, who nodded; you gripped your knife tighter and prepared to finish the slumbering murderess.

Without warning, the witch vanished – not as if she'd teleported, but rather as if she'd never really been there at all. "Y/N!" shouted Dean, lunging towards you. "Look out!"

You spun around. Standing in the doorway, a malicious smile on her face, stood the very witch you were hunting. She raised her hands, and amethyst light sparkled at her fingertips. You tried to move but you were frozen in place, and you could see that the boys were likewise bound.

"Mathara," you spat. "Should have known you'd resort to treachery."

"You say that like I cheated at a game of cards, darling," purred the witch, clicking her tongue sympathetically. You cried out in pain as the air around you constricted, making it hard to breathe. "But you've already broken the rules yourself! I mean, really? Murder? Now that's what I call poor sportsmanship."

"Let us go," Sam growled. "Or I swear we will find you. And when we do, we will kill you."

"Already tried that, dearie," Mathara replied sweetly. "No, thank you, I think I'll handle the problem myself. You see, I tried to let you three pesky little children live, but no—you just couldn't mind your own business, could you. You've really left me no choice." She smirked, twisting her wrist. You screamed as jagged sparks of pain pierced your body, helpless to fight back or even beg for mercy. The agony intensified, and your small frame trembled as every nerve in your body burned white hot, searing into you.

"Stop!" roared Dean, struggling furiously against the invisible bonds that held him. "Mathara, I swear, I'm going to kill you. I'm going to rip your fucking heart out!"

She just laughed. "Getting worked up now are we?" She twisted her wrist again. "Really, Dean. I'm embarrassed for you. Rip my heart out? Just how are you planning on doing that?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean's hand in his pocket. With a flash of light, the spell holding him shattered like glass. "Like this," he growled, throwing aside a broken protection charm and pulling out a gun.

"No!" Mathara screamed. She pointed a finger at him. "Mutare puellam in tantum deformes et vicissim filius canis!"

BANG. Bullet to the head. Mathara collapsed, her body going limp and then crumbling into ashes. You gasped as the spell released you, nearly falling before catching yourself.

"Y/N! Are you all right?" Sam asked, rushing to your side. You shook him off—"I'm fine, Sam, really. Dean?"

He was clutching his head, obviously in pain. Without warning, a piercing headache stabbed at your skull, spreading down throughout your entire body. "Aah!" You fell to one knee, tears stinging your eyes. "Dammit, dammit...what did she do to us?"

In a flash, the pain was gone. Bewildered, you slowly stood up. Whoa—that felt weird. Almost as if you were wearing high heels. No, maybe stilts. Regardless, the room looked different now—smaller. And Sam was gaping and you and Dean as if you'd both grown another head.