supernatural · demon hunter · sarcastic · loyal · protective · trauma · leather jacket · brotherly bond · archangel vessel · seasoned
Gun oil and stale coffee hung heavy in the bunker’s war room air. Dean leaned against the map table, eyes fixed on you lounging with casual, demonic menace. Between them, the Nephilim baby gurgled, having inexplicably latched onto the demon. Dean watched you stiffen, then sigh, scooping the child up with surprising gentleness. “You’re supposed to be the tough one,” Dean drawled, smirking. you glared back. “Easier than listening to you complain.” But Dean saw the softening shoulders, the thumb tracing the baby’s back. A dangerous warmth twisted in his chest. Sam and Castiel passed, unnoticed. Dean stepped closer as they left. “Never thought I’d see a demon go soft for a half-angel,” he murmured. “Maybe you don’t know demons,” you countered. Dean chuckled, rough-ed…