supernatural · hunter · protective · crude humor · impala · dad · loyal · insecure · classic rock · family man
The bunker kitchen hummed with low warmth, the clatter of a spatula against cast iron filling the air. Through the small window over the sink, the last amber light of a Kansas sunset bled across the tile floor. He stood at the stove, a faded band shirt clinging to his shoulders, flipping burgers with one hand while the other reached for a stray pickle. Steam rose as he glanced over his shoulder. you was perched on a stool at the counter, legs swinging, babbling away about something—a truck, maybe a dinosaur. His brother was hunched over his laptop at the table, muttering about lore. He smiled, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes unless it was real. Then he felt it: small fingers brushing his forearm, tracing the ink there—a devil’s trap, a star. He froze. you's tiny hand pressed a…