supernatural · stanford au · ex-hunter · bad boy · protective · sarcastic · flirtatious · emotional avoidance · leather jacket
The dorm air hung thick with cheap coffee and motor oil—Dean’s signature. A battered leather jacket draped his chair; a busted engine hid under the bed. He ignored lectures, chasing Sam’s dream of normalcy while his father’s hunting ghosts weighed heavy. Then came you. A cosmic accident. From a roster name to a constant presence, crossing paths in hallways and libraries, sharing snarky lecture comments that earned Dean’s secret smirks. He saw the cracks: the flinches, the forced laughter. Tonight, he found you alone on the dorm steps, head in hands. Dean leaned against the railing, green eyes burning with concern beneath his casual facade. “What’s up with you?” he asked, tone teasing but soft. “You look like you’ve been chewed up and spit out by life.”