Supernatural Preferences and Imagines

09 | Dean Winchester [Requested]

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DEAN LIKED YOU, it was no secret, no matter how hard he tried to keep it that way. And no—it wasn't an instant attraction nor was it love at first sight—it was a slow build. At first judgment, Dean found you to be too innocent for your own good, and in some cases thought you had too many weaknesses when it came to hunting. Yet, as time continued, you grew closer, but never did he honestly think it would lead to anything other than a friendship. His feelings just came out of nowhere and because of it, he had no idea what to do with them, other than try to protect you—like all the other things he loved.

The old, abandoned police station had fallen into a eerie silence as everyone's eyes landed upon Castiel. Although you hadn't known him long and frankly didn't really trust him just yet, he was—after all—an angel and probably the smartest person in the room. After learning that a horde of demons had collected themselves outside, surrounding all the exits of the building, your initial reaction was to fight. Nothing new or fancy—just some good old, kick ass, take names, sort of hunt—that you had done a million times over. However, looking at Castiel and the rest of the frightened stragglers, you knew you stood absolutely no chance—especially with your lack of fire power.

"There is one way to get you out of here alive," Castiel piped up, his eyes flickering over to you for a second before moving back to the floor.

"Great," Dean sassed, "Care to share with the rest of the group."

"You're not going to like it, Dean," Castiel warned, making the hunter roll his eyes in annoyance. Dean was already losing patience with his new team member—he was sick of the angel's self-righteousness demeanor—while Castiel was still too oblivious to detect the sarcasm.

"What is it, Castiel," you ask gently, your politeness shooting down Dean's attitude.

The angel eyed you again, and suddenly you felt singled out—as if all the eyes in the room were suddenly focused on you. "There is a spell. It will vaporize every demon in a one mile radius," he answered in his regular monotoned voice.

"Okay," Dean sighed, "What do we need to do?"

"You can't do anything, Dean," Castiel replied bluntly, "The spell is tricky, and it requires a person of virtue."

"I got virtue," Dean said, a little too quickly for everyones liking.

"No, Dean," the angel stated sharply. You could tell he was starting to get a little annoyed with Dean, his point not getting across as clearly as he would have liked. "I need a virgin."

You're cheeks burned scarlet—Castiel's subtle glances towards you finally making sense in your brain. You had no idea how, but he must have known that you were still pure, and with that thought you suddenly felt completely transparent. Dean's chuckle broke through your thoughts moments later, and it was followed by the low sound of his voice. "Nobody in this room is a virgin."

Taking a steady breath, you naturally curled yourself inward, red hot embarrassment embracing your body like the plague. You directed your gaze to the floor, for you knew all eyes were now directed towards you, each pair quietly judging you. You could take the strangers stares, you could tolerate Castiel's grim expression, you could even stomach Sam's pitiful look, but what you could not stand was the way Dean—your most recent crush—gawked at you with pure shock written all over his face. Some wire in his head must have disconnected, because for some reason he could not wrap his head around the idea that you were still a virgin.

"No," he said, more to himself then anyone else, "No way! You're kidding me, right? You're a—"

"What," you snap back bitterly, "Close you're mouth, Winchester. It's not like it's any of your business, anyway."

No matter how many faces Sam—and even Castiel—tried to give him, Dean just kept running his mouth. "So? Not even once—like not even—" he started, straightening his posture. There was still a hint of surprise that settled in his eyes, but it faded slowly before he continued. "Wow! Just—wow."

"Anyway," you blink, focusing back on the angel, "What do you need Castiel?"

He huffed, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "I need your blood."

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Even though you had agreed with the plan, once Dean figured out just how much blood was required for the spell, he quickly shut it down against your wishes. He insisted on finding another way—one that didn't involved you bleeding to death right in front of him. Luckily for him, there was one, but it didn't guarantee all lives would be saved. They ultimately decided to fall back on their original plan, which meant fighting their way out.

You crouched down next to Dean, watching Sam as he walked over to break the salt line that was currently keeping the demons out.

"Hey, L/N," Dean whispered, slamming the loaded magazine into the base of his gun.

Rolling your eyes, you answered. "Yeah?"

"When we make it out of here," he started, his flattened lips forming a cheeky grin, "You. Me. In the back of the Impala."

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but smile—a blush sneaking its way upon your cheeks. "Only in your dreams, Winchester."

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