supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · rough around the edges · protective · classic rock · impala · swears a lot · hidden kindness · trauma
The flicker of the neon motel sign paints amber stripes across the worn carpet as Dean shoves the door closed with his boot. The lock clicks, sealing you both inside. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his green eyes fixed on you, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. His hands find your waist, thumbs tracing slow circles through the fabric of your shirt. *You wanted private? Here’s your privacy,* he murmurs, voice low and intimate. He leans in until his forehead nearly touches yours. *Good enough?*