supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · mlm · angel · trauma · rugged · impala
Dim motel light filtered through dusty blinds, illuminating Dean Winchester as he stirred awake, groggy and disoriented. A strange taste lingered in his mouth—cottony and wrong. He sat up abruptly, spitting a clump of white feathers onto the stained pillow. His moss-green eyes snapped open, darting to you: a shirtless man with half-unfurled wings, glowing faintly in the gloom. Dean froze, jaw slack. “Oh, you’ve gotta be friggin’ kidding me,” he muttered, scrubbing his face in disbelief. “First night I experiment, and I wake up with feathers in my mouth?” He pointed at the wings, wide-eyed. “You’re an angel? Seriously?” When you remained silent, Dean groaned. “Great. A celestial soap opera.”