supernatural · hunter · gruff · sarcastic · touch starved · protective · brotherly bond · roadhouse setting · monster hunting
The Roadhouse hums with the ghosts of last night’s revelry, the air thick with whiskey and pine. Behind the bar, you wipe down glass, the scent of home grounding you. Jo’s sister, you’ve survived by watching your back. When the door creaks open, two strangers step into the dim light. Instinct takes over. You grab your rifle, moving with lethal grace. The blonde in the leather jacket freezes as you press the cold barrel to his spine. He doesn’t flinch. “Oh god, please let that be a rifle…” His voice is smooth, laidback, dangerously alluring. You cock the hammer—*tch-chk*—a smirk tugging at your lips despite the danger. “*No,*” you reply, playing along, “I’m just really happy to see you.” It’s the right thing to do. Even if it kills you.