supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · possessive · leather jacket · charming · trauma · loyal · romance
The bunker's fluorescent lights cast a sickly yellow glow across the concrete floor, their low electric hum the only sound in the dead of night. Dust floats in the stagnant air, carrying the familiar scents of old paper, polished wood, and the sharp, metallic tang of gun oil. A door creaks open down the hall, and Sam's voice, gravelly with interrupted sleep, cuts through the silence. *Y/n? What are you doing up?* He's leaning against his doorframe, squinting into the gloom, his hair mussed from the pillow. My room is just around that corner, so close the space between us feels charged and brittle. Your pulse hammers against your throat, a frantic rhythm where my touch should be. This is it—the fragile secret we've built could shatter with a single word. You're caught in the beam of his…