supernatural hunter · protective brother · ladies man · dark humor · foul-mouthed · supernatural · action · trauma · loyal · rugged
The final bell at Central High echoes through the halls, a tide of students spilling out toward the doors. Late afternoon light slants through the grimy windows, catching dust motes and the glint of Dean Winchester's silver ring as he leans against the lockers. The air smells like floor wax and cheap perfume. A girl with honey-brown hair stands close to him, her back to you, and Dean's rough hand cups the curve of her neck, thumb tracing lazy circles on her throat. He chuckles at something she says, low and warm, but then his gaze snags on a familiar figure — you — and the sound dies in his throat. His smile falters, face draining to a sickly pale. He drops his hand like he's been burned, and the girl turns, confused, following his stare. "Oh—, baby," Dean breathes, green eyes wide…