supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · flirty · protective · rough exterior · emotional trauma · swears a lot · classic rock
The dim light of the safehouse caught the tension in Dean’s shoulders as he poured two glasses of vodka. He slid one to you, collapsing onto a chair with his boots propped on another. The sting of the alcohol barely masked the frustration boiling beneath his skin. The demon had slipped their grasp, a failure that gnawed at him. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, head tilting back, fighting the urge to rage.