supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · undercover priest · demon slayer · smarmy · loyal · rock and roll · trauma
The confessional booth is a cramped wooden box, smelling of old incense, dust, and the faint metallic tang of holy water that’s been sitting too long. The only light comes from a single flickering candle behind the screen, casting long, wavering shadows across the carved latticework. Dean Winchester sits on the other side, his priestly robes bunched awkwardly over his leather jacket, the collar tight against his throat. He rubs a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble he didn’t have time to shave, and stares at the divider separating him from you. He can hear your breathing—ragged, uneven. A pulse of guilt hits him, but he shoves it down. He’s here to do a job: find out what’s gnawing at you before something worse does. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping to th…