dean winchester x f!reader 1.8k 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕
a hunt always ended in either you, sam, or dean being injured and having to be patched up, even if nothing had went wrong that day. sometimes, it ended in all of you wounded and having to bandage yourselves up. it wasn’t rare for this to happen, not by a long shot, but after this particular hunt, if you put enough thought into it, you could’ve called it your last.
it took a sharp left turn right as you three arrived: not a single one of your flashlights working despite having fresh batteries and working minutes prior, baby’s engine had spluttered and cut out when she pulled up to the curb, and there’d been noises or things moving in every room. to say you were all paranoid was a kind way to put it.
then, when it came to actually hunting whatever thing it was, you swore you saw the lights to the pearly gates and god personally calling your name. you got fucked up, badly. you sprained your ankle midway, causing you to lose your balance numerous times and miss your shots, you’d been thrown against something tough every time you blinked, and when you saw your arm being twisted at a gruesome angle, you felt sick bubble in your throat before being forced back down.
your screams were still echoing in your brain.
yet, despite everything that happened to you, it seemed dean had it 5x worse. when you looked at him for the first time after everything, you genuinely thought he was dead at first glance, he looked like he took a blood bath and fell asleep halfway through. in your chest you felt your heart begin to crumble at the sight of him, and your eyes suddenly felt too wet compared to mere seconds beforehand.
you dismissed everything around you and headed straight for the man laying on the ground in, mainly his own, blood. your attention was so focused on dean you could’ve missed sam’s interference if he hadn’t crouched infront of you and offered to help bring dean to the car.
sam was messed up in his own way too, perhaps not as bad as you or dean, but still more injured than usual. he’d stayed mostly out of the crossfire, and he was the one who had ended the hunt and killed the thing after them. he was always the brains of the group, no matter what situation he was thrown into.
it took a while to get dean seated in the backseat of the impala, with you limping and dean’s weighed being shared between you and sam, but it was a huge relief when the doors shut behind you. you sat in the back with dean, sam sitting upfront in the drivers seat and someone obviously had to drive them home.
the ride back consisted of dean slumped against you, heavy pants leaving both of your mouths, the radio remaining off as everyone’s minds stayed fixated on what just happened.
hours later, the trio arrived back at the bunker, taking a little longer to get dean out of the car and inside as the exhaustion had settled in everyone’s bones, slowing their paces tremendously.
sam had retreated to his room once they got inside, probably to shower, sleep for a full night for once, which left you to tend to your and dean’s injuries. it wasn’t strange for this to happen, as dean would rather have you patch him up instead of anyone else, even himself. claimed you did it best and he’d just make it worse.
you knew he was lying, he’d been trained for hunting since his childhood years, so of course he knew how to handle his injuries, no matter how minor or major they were it could’ve been a broken wrist and he’d somehow never go to the hospital. but, you let him get away with him most days, allowing him to soak in the comfort it gave him when you took care of him.
but, with you now alone with dean, it meant you had to drag him to his room all by yourself, no sam to help you out on this one, which made you groan internally and have to hide your eye roll behind a blink. "cmon, de. let’s get you settled," you murmured with a less than enthusiastic tone, hoping that he would meet you halfway and atleast use his legs. and he did, although much slower than you would have appreciated.
you gave him a free pass as he was injured and probably drained of all energy, which you could relate to at that moment. with dean’s minor help, you managed to trudge your way through the bunker and in the direction of his room, each step followed by a groan from his lips and a quiet apology from yours. you didn’t mean to cause him more pain, but you couldn’t exactly get him to his room without putting pressure on some part of his body.
after a few minutes, you pushed open the door to dean’s room, your other hand guiding him across the room to his bed. gently, you lowered him down on the soft sheets, making sure he was comfortable, before heading to the bathroom where the medkit and other necessities for his injuries were. you heard him grumble something under his breath then cuss, and you presumed he shifted and got smacked in the face by his body wincing at the sudden movement.
when you returned to his bedroom, you shook your head at the sight of his bloodied form half-asleep ontop of his sheets, yet said nothing and walked over to him, sitting on the edge of his bed once you reached it. you grabbed a wet washcloth and began to wipe at his skin, staining the cloth an almost dried out pink colour, like a red marker that was left uncapped for so long.
now that the adrenaline from the hunt and focus to get out without trouble had mainly worn off, the disbelief and almost angry-like emotion began settling in your veins, causing you to scrub at his skin a little too rough. you only let up when he winced, maybe you’d ran the cloth over a wound too hard, making you mutter a soft apology. but, even then, there were still faint red marks left by your angry touch.
".. i can’t believe you, dean. you’re a fucking idiot." your voice finally broke the silent atmosphere, startling both you and dean, yet you couldn’t stop now that the silence couldn’t be rekindled. "you could’ve died back there. i don’t know if you realise that or not. but, maybe you have, since you haven’t spoken since we left that place."
there were a few moments of nothing, just heavy breathing from dean’s end and angry huffs from yours. you expected him to snap back with a defensive, ridiculous excuse, maybe something along the lines of, "well, i didn’t. alright? and besides, we all could’ve died. don’t just blame me", yet it never came. instead, you were met with a voice that didn’t sound like his, that reminded you that he wasn’t just the arrogant asshole who thought he could one up everyone at everything.
"yeah, i know.. ‘m sorry."
the words came out soft, laced with guilt and shame, perhaps a hint of resignation. it was so sincere that it made you pause from your aggressive cleaning and just stare, blinking several times as if to think back to what just happened, before taking the risk of looking at his face. and you shouldn’t have.
those green orbs stared back at you, saying a thousand things his mouth wouldn’t allow. you saw the way his jaw clenched, fingers of his shaky hands twitched, lashes fluttered as the exhaustion grew harder to ignore.
you hated this — the sudden vulnerability — it made you feel like a complete asshole for being upset with him mere minutes ago, even if you had a valid reason to be mad. on the other hand, you loved it at the same time.
dean was never one to be sentimental, preferring to be the one who controlled situations, the one getting could rely on for anything. and here he was, admitting he was an idiot for nearly getting himself killed, and even throwing in a genuine apology when he was called out for his mistake.
but you made him feel like that, and it warmed your heart. you got his tough facade crack, allowed him to be comfortable enough to admit his wrongdoings while you, reminder, the only person he let, take care of his bloodied and injured form. and that hit you harder than anything else could.
a quiet sigh left your lips as you took away the cloth from his skin, leaving him feeling cold, evident by the shiver that coursed through his limbs and the goosebumps that ran down his bare arms. "dean—" you began, but his voice cut you off before you could finish your sentence.
"i know, sweetheart. i’m an idiot who threw himself in the crossfire and paid the consequences. i’m sorry, truly. i promise, it’ll never happen again.." despite his point already being across, he continued on for several moments, his apologies quickly turning into straight rambling. you couldn’t make out what he was saying for most of it, but you let him say what he wanted to anyway, just to show him you were listening.
but you quickly grew tired of his words never stopping flowing from his mouth, despite trying your best to be patient. then, after a minute or so, you decided to return the favor of cutting of the other’s sentences, although differently to dean’s approach minutes prior. the distance between you was abruptly shortened before nonexistent, your lips meeting his in a sudden kiss.
it took dean off guard, evident by the way his body stiffened and hands clung to the sheets like a frightened chameleon trying to blend in with nature. it took several seconds for him to react, which was only initiated when he felt you begin to pull back, his still slightly shaky hands reaching to grasp your hips. because you tried to pull away, he automatically deepened the kiss so you couldn’t, lips remaining moving in sync and tongues tangling like salsa.
none of you could tell where one ended and the other began at this point, dean’s hands pulling you closer until you were hovering over his lap in a straddle position, although you didn’t lower further, reminding yourself you were both still heavily injured. with your hands roaming his chest through his shirt, feeling the soft muscles beneath, you finally managed to pull back, leaving behind a thick strand of spit connecting your lips.
the trail broke as the distance between your face’s grew, your tongue made an entrance to collect the saliva on your lower lip, before bringing it into the warmth of your mouth and allowing it to mix with you own saliva. dean let out a groan at the sight and shifted beneath you, probably to adjust the bulge forming in his pants.
"alright, let’s get you all patched up, tough guy."
