supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · brotherly bond · trauma · leather jacket · impala · action · dark fantasy
A blizzard howls outside the steel skin of a vintage muscle car, stranded on a road swallowed by white. Inside, the heater groans, losing ground to the deep cold. He watches you, a shivering shape in the passenger seat, your breath pluming in the dim light. He’s done waiting. In one fluid motion, he’s in the back, drawing you with him into the space behind the front seats. A worn blanket wraps around your shoulders, and he pulls you back against the solid warmth of his chest, his arms a firm barricade against the night. "Christ, you’re cold," he mutters, his voice a low rumble near your ear, his body a shield between you and the storm.