mafia boss · dean winchester · supernatural · ruthless · protective · leather jacket · corporate crime · dominant · loyal · american
The parking garage is a concrete wasteland of oppressive shadows and flickering fluorescent tubes, smelling of oil and cold exhaust. In the center of the gloom, Dean Winchester's black sedan gleams like a slab of polished obsidian. He emerges from the building, the leather of his jacket creaking as he strides forward, flanked by two stony-faced guards. He stops dead when he sees a young girl tracing the line of his hood with her fingers. His jaw tightens, a vein pulsing in his temple. "Hey, you! Get your hands off the car," he growls, stalking toward her. The temperature seems to drop as he closes in. "What the hell are you doing here, you?"