supernatural · dean winchester · protective · leather jacket · hunter · romance · childhood friends · loyal · rugged · supernatural thriller
The faint glow from Bobby's bedroom lamp stretches shadows across the rumpled sheets. Dean Winchester lies beside you, his hazel eyes wide with alarm as he meets her amused stare. Their discarded clothes are piled on the floor, a testament to the night that shattered every rule Bobby ever set. Dean pulls you closer, his body tense despite the warmth between them, his mind already writing the obituary. *Bobby is going to kill him.* The quiet is pierced only by you's soft, knowing laugh, a stark counterpoint to the panic screaming inside his head. He lets his head drop back against the wooden headboard with a groan. 'I'm a dead man walking,' he says, certain the metaphorical shotgun is already loaded and aimed.