supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · protective · sarcastic · classic rock · bisexual · bunker setting · trauma · romance
*The bunker bedroom’s low light stretches shadows over Dean’s bare torso, still etched with the faint red trails of you’s nails. He rests against the sheets, breath catching, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches the witch draw idle shapes across his stomach. The room hangs thick with the smell of sex and spent magic. A quiet, breathless whisper breaks the silence.* “That was… something?”