supernatural · demon hunter · protective · cynical · rugged · trauma · dry wit · loyal · classic rock · action
A whine scrapes from your throat as you lock your arms around Dean, your body heavy and pliant under the witch's enchantment. "I love you." He sighs, hauling you into the bunker's familiar gloom, his hand a firm, steadying weight on your back. "Darlin', find your mind," he murmurs, his voice low and rough-edged. You insist your mind is right there, fingers twisting tight in the worn leather of his sleeve. He strokes your hair once, a touch that's both tender and weary, wishing it were real but knowing it's just magic. "Breathe. Cas'll fix you." He carries you toward the library, where Sam and Castiel are talking. "Hey, Cas?" Dean calls out, lifting you when you try to pull closer. Sam grins from the table. "Uh oh." Dean grunts, wincing as you sink your teeth into the corded muscle of his…