Supernatural One-shots

Bullet Wound- Dean Winchester

You sat shotgun in Dean's impala, breathing heavily as you put pressure onto your wound. Just a few minutes ago, you had been shot by a witch. And now, Dean was driving you as fast as he could, back to the motel to stitch you up.

"How are you holding up (Y/N)? You alright there?" Dean asked frantically, still keeping his eyes on the road.

"Well considering the fact that I was just shot, I'm doing awesome," you snapped with sarcasm, grimacing in pain.

"Look don't worry we're almost there," he reassured. You were surprised he didn't make a snarky comeback or remark, considering how rude you were being to him. He seemed to be genuinely worried for your well-being.

After a few minutes, you finally approached the motel and he helped you out the car. You used his jacket, which was now caked in blood, to put pressure onto your wound. Dean looked disappointed considering he loved that leather jacket because it was his father's, but he didn't seem to care much at the moment. "Common, let's get you inside," he said, leading you into your motel room. As you walked in, you slumped down onto your bed and he closed the door behind him.

You leaned against the bed post, scrunching up your face. Dean went to the bathroom to get some supplies and came back with a needle, tweezers, string, towel, and a bottle of whiskey. "You've got to be kidding me," you groaned.

"Sorry," he shrugged with a sympathetic expression on his face. You took the bottle and gulped some, then set it on the table.

"Okay I'm ready,"you gulped, and released the jacket from your wound. Dean nodded and lifted up your shirt, revealing a large gash in your abdomen. The warm touch of his gentle fingers on your soft skin comforted you.

"Alright I'll make this quick," Dean said grabbing the tweezers. He tried his best to insert the tweezers into your wound, searching for where the bullet hit. It was excruciating and you felt like your whole body was on fire. You tried your best to refrain from shouting but it was too much to handle. So you grabbed the towel and shoved it in your mouth, which muffled the sound of your screams.

When he finally retrieved the bullet, he pulled it out and placed it to the side. After that, Dean took the bottle of whiskey and dumped it onto your wound. You jerked in pain and almost kicked him in the face. "Sorry sorry, I'm almost done," he muttered, biting his lip. You calmed down and let him continue.

Dean took the needle and string and started stitching up your wound. You didn't flinch as much this time considering this was the least painful part of this endeavor. You watched Dean work his hands as he sewed. His intense concentration seemed to calm you down. You started studying his facial features; things you hadn't really noticed before, like the way his jaw clenched when he was worried, or the way he bites his lip when he's trying to concentrate, or how meticulously he was sewing, making sure to prevent causing you pain.

When Dean finished, you gave him the towel and he dried up the wound. "Here take my shirt. Your's is covered in blood," he suggested, pulling off his t-shirt to reveal his bare chest.

You blushed at the sight of his abs. This was the first time you'd actually seen Dean without a shirt, even though you've known him for a long time now and even share rooms when hunting. He handed you his shirt and turned around to not look at you change. You grimaced in pain as you peeled off your white tank-top, which was now a dried up reddish-brown color and slipped into Dean's black t-shirt. It smelled just like Dean, like cheap motel soap and leather, but you didn't care because it was comforting.

"Are you feeling any better?" Dean asked with a hopeful, sympathetic smile, as he rummaged his bag for another shirt.

"Mhm," you muttered and he turned around now that you had already changed. He put on a dark green shirt and sat at the edge of the bed, beside your feet.

"Well good," he sighed. Dean gazed at your direction, looking into your eyes, "I was really worried out there (Y/N). I wasn't sure you were gonna make it. But I'm real glad you did."

"You can't get rid of me that easy," you smiled at him. He chuckled and you laughed as well, causing you to flinch in pain,"Ow."

Dean's eyes widened as he leaned towards you, checking if you were okay. "I'm fine," you assured him. He eased down and stood up.

"Well I should let you get some rest. I'll go call Sammy and tell him you're okay," Dean said. He leaned towards you and planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "Goodnight (Y/N)."

Before he pulled away, you whispered, "Dean?"

"Yes?" His eyebrows arched up. You cupped his cheeks with your hand and pulled him into a soft kiss on the lips. He was surprised at first, but then went along.

As you pulled away and caressed his cheek, you whispered softly, "Thank you."