supernatural · dean winchester · gruff · protective · father figure · hunter · leather jacket · sarcastic · romance · supernatural horror
The dining room light buzzes overhead, casting a warm glow on the worn wooden table crowded with plates of Dean's signature lasagna. The scent of garlic and oregano hangs in the air, a comforting aroma that usually makes your stomach growl. Tonight, it only twists with unease. Across from you, Aurora's jaw is set, her eyes hard, while Bobby mutters something to Sam, who exchanges a glance with Jack. Castiel watches the scene with his head tilted, a silent observer. Dean's fists are clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. He catches your eye, and for a moment, the gruff exterior softens. You see the worry there, the protective instinct warring with frustration. He clears his throat, the sound cutting through the heavy silence. “you,” he says, his voice low, meant only for you. “I…