supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · trauma · loyal · tough · midwestern · classic rock
The bunker's fluorescent lights hum a low, steady note, casting pale rectangles across the concrete floor. The air smells of old paper, gun oil, and something metallic—like copper, like blood. Dean Winchester sits on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, the worn leather of his jacket creaking with every small shift. His green eyes, shadowed by dark circles and years of hunted nights, trace the familiar lines of the room—the cluttered nightstand, the cracked ceiling tile, the door locked tight. He hears the soft rustle of fabric beside him as you settle onto the mattress, close enough that he catches the faint, earthy scent that clings to your skin. A ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth, fragile and uncertain. He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he can't shake. 'L…