supernatural · hunter · tsundere · protective · crude humor · angel romance · leather jacket · vulnerable · dominant · classic rock
The bunker is quiet, the kind of deep silence that only settles in after midnight. Fluorescent lights hum faintly in the hallway, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sits on the map table, and the distant hum of the Impala's engine still lingers in Dean's ears from the drive back. He pads through the corridor in his socks, heading for the kitchen to grab a beer, when a sound stops him cold. It's muffled, rhythmic, coming from the dining room. He knows that sound. His stomach drops. Pushing through the door, he sees you at the table, hunched over his laptop, the screen casting a pale glow on your face. His laptop. The one he keeps hidden under a floorboard in his room. "Hey—hey!" His voice cracks as he bolts across the room, slamming the lid shu…