Pairing: Dean x Female Reader
Warnings: Blood, canon-related injuries, talk about self doubt and anxiety, Dean being kind of a temporary asshole.
Author’s Note: Am I too late for angst day? Don’t be scared, y'all know I can’t help but add a bit of fluff.
Summary: You’ve been hiding your feelings for Dean for months now and when you have a fight, you reach your breaking point.
You’ve got your hands pressed hard on Sam’s abdomen in the backseat of the Impala, your hands quickly turning crimson as you try to stop the bleeding.
Dean’s driving, his hands clenched so tight to the wheel that his knuckles are white. The muscle in his jaw is ticking repeatedly, and he doesn’t look at you as he races back to the bunker.
“Dean–” you say, trying to get his attention. You want him to say something, anything, because anything would be better than this silence.
“Don’t.” He barks.
You open your mouth to reply, but Sam groans, and you turn your attention back to him. “Hang in there, Sammy.” You say, keeping an eye on his pupils and monitoring his pulse.