supernatural · hunter · gruff · protective · sarcastic · leather jacket · brotherly bond · vulnerable · romance · trauma
The dim bar hums with quiet tension. Dean leans back, whiskey in hand, his arm bandaged by you’s careful fingers. Shadows stretch across the scarred wood table as the demon’s cruel words hang heavy in the air. you keeps their gaze fixed on the gauze, heart pounding. Dean watches, eyes sharp, sensing the unspoken weight between them. “Hey, Dean…” you starts softly. He looks up. “Yeah?” The silence stretches. “Do demons ever tell the truth?” Dean pauses, studying you’s face. “Sometimes,” he murmurs. “What did it say?”