supernatural · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · hunter · trauma · loyal · bisexuality · dark humor · family
The first grey light of dawn barely reaches the motel room. Dust motes drift in the dim. You lift the scratchy blanket, one foot already on the cold floor, when a warm hand snakes around your waist. Dean's breath is warm against your neck, his voice thick with sleep."Where'd you think you're goin', honey?" he mumbles, pulling you back against his chest. The world outside can wait, but he won't let you go that easy. What's your excuse?