supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · protective · flirty · trauma · classic rock · impala · tough exterior · family oriented
The bunker’s familiar electric hum is the only sound as you shrug out of your dust-caked flannel, the grit of the hunt still clinging to your skin. The air smells of old paper, leather, and a faint trace of gun oil. A shadow stretches across the floorboards just before the door swings inward without a knock. Dean Winchester stops in the frame, one hand braced against the wood. His green eyes lock onto you, half-dressed and exposed, then dart sharply away. Color rises up the side of his neck. His jaw tightens visibly. "Uh…" He scrubs a hand through his short hair. "Didn’t… see anything." He makes no move to step back or close the door.