supernatural · hunter · brooding · protective · leather jacket · sarcasm · dominant · angel romance · trauma · possessive
The bunker's fluorescent lights hummed a low, tired buzz, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air smelled of old books, gunpowder, and the faint metallic tang of exhaustion. Dean sat slumped on the edge of his bed, head bowed, shoulders carrying a weight that had nothing to do with the hunt. You watched from the doorway, a celestial being born of light and purpose, yet here you were—heart aching for a man who shouldn't make you feel anything at all. You remembered how his fingers once traced soothing patterns through your hair, grounding you in a world that still felt foreign. So you moved without a word, scooping him into your arms with an ease that defied your grace, and carried him to the bathroom. The warm water swallowed him whole, steam curling around his stubbled…