Supernatural Preferences and Imagines

Feelings- Dean

Dean pulled into a shady looking motel and parked with a sigh.

"How is it that this is the only vacant motel within the ten mile radius?" he asked. You and Sam scoffed.

"At this point, we shouldn't be complaining. Let's check in," you said, itching to get out of your bloodstained clothes, treat your still-bleeding wounds, and take a shower. The brothers nodded, all three of you stepped out of the impala.

You walked into the lobby. The carpets were stained and it smelled of stale perfume. You stepped to the side, trying to hide all the blood, as Dean talked to the receptionist.

"-You only have one room?" Dean asked.

"Only one," responded the receptionist, who had a heavy french accent. "It's a room with two beds, but it has a bathroom and shower."

Dean looked back at Sam, then to you. You shrugged.

"Alright, we'll take it."

As you walked outside, you stumbled, finding yourself extremely lightheaded.

"Woah, there, Y/n," Dean smirked as he caught you. You tried to hide your blush.

"She's bleeding pretty badly, Dean, we should get to the room," Sam said. Dean tossed the key to Sam then picked you up bridal style. He carried you to the room then gently set you down on the bed.

"I could have walked."

"Then, why didn't you tell me?"

"You wouldn't have listened."

You held Dean's gaze for awhile, taking in every detail. His eyes, freckles, hair... You reached out an traced the detail on his amulet. He eventually lifted his hand and captures yours, lacing his fingers between yours. You didn't notice when Sam left to grab the medical supplies.

"Nice job on the hunt today," he spoke softly.

"You're the one who saved me, I should be complimenting you."

You stared down at your entwined hands. This must mean that he liked you back...

The door swung open and Dean jerked backwards as Sam entered the room. He handed you some bandages and a sewing kit.

"I assume you can treat your wounds without us?"

"Yeah," you replied awkwardly, shakily standing up and exiting the room. You stepped into the bathroom and removed your shirt, revealing a gash across your hip and another down your chest.

Those were some nasty werewolves...

You immediately started working on cleaning your wounds, trying not to hiss in pain. Then you heard voices...

"What's going on between you and Y/n?"

"What? Nothing."

"Dean-"

"-Nothing, Sammy," Dean said quietly. There was a short pause before he spoke again. "I can sleep on the floor."

"These beds are big enough for two-"

"Drop it, Sammy. Unless you want to share a bed with her, by all means, go ahead."

"And you're okay with that? There would be no jealousy or anything?" Sam asked, there was a hint of teasing. There was another period of silence. "You know, I could have sworn to see you and Y/n holding hands when I came back in. You also seemed quite jumpy. Just admit it, you like her."

The next sentence was almost too quiet for you to hear.

"I think she likes you too, you know."

"Sam, enough."

"Just saying," he sing-songed. "I've told you that it would be best to find somebody who shared the same life. It's worth a shot, and besides, since when was Dean Winchester afraid to ask a girl out?"

You shook your head and stepped back, tying off the thread that you were using to patch yourself up. You then turned on the shower.

You exited the bathroom and sat down on the edge of one of the beds. Dean didn't say anything, he just walked past you and soon you could heard the shower turn on once more. You sighed and laid back, closing your eyes. As much as you wanted to stay awake, you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up around three in the morning. You glanced around, seeing Sam asleep on the other bed and Dean... Dean was sitting at the table. His elbows were resting against the surface and propping his head up.

You frowned, slipping out of bed and walking over to where he sat.

"Dean," you whispered, touching his arm. He jerked away and grabbed a knife, eyes flickering to you. You held your hands up in defense. He calmed down seeing that everyone in the room was alright.

"Y/n?"

"Come to bed with me. That doesn't look very comfortable."

"I'm fine-"

"No excuses. C'mon." You grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed. He sighed before laying down. You laid down next to him and shifted so that you were facing him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I didn't like seeing you sleeping at the table. And, I trust you enough to know that you won't creep on me while I sleep."

"Good enough," Dean murmured.

"My turn now. Why did you allow me to do this?"

"Chick flicks," he scoffed.

"No, seriously."

"My back hurts."

"Dean Winchester!" you whisper-yelled, careful not to wake Sam. "Since when does aches and pains let you listen to me? You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You are, and if you don't tell me, I swear to god that you will never get another good night's sleep for as long as I live."

He chuckled softly, placing a hand under your chin and brushed his lips against yours. Immediately, you lost yourself, your senses reduced so that you could no longer think straight.

"Y/n," he whispered slowly, savoring the word against his tongue. You smiled, heart fluttering. Who knew Dean Winchester was a romantic? You leaned in for another kiss and poured in every word you've ever wanted to say to him, every emotion, every thought about him into it. He only deepened the kiss, careful to not let it go too far.

Eventually to broke away and tucked your head under his chin, cuddling up close to him and letting your legs intertwine.

"Goodnight, Dean," you whispered.

"Goodnight, Y/n."