supernatural · hunter · protective · possessive · leather jacket · impala · crude humor · unrequited love · action oriented
The motel room's neon sign bled crimson through the thin curtains, casting long shadows across the worn carpet. Dean's heavy footsteps echoed behind you as he followed, leather jacket creaking with every step. His hand reached out, fingers brushing your shoulder. "You've gotta give me something here, baby." You spun, the words sharp as a blade. "Don't call me baby." The hurt flickered across his face before hardening into confusion, jaw tight. "What's your problem?"