supernatural · dean winchester · leather jacket · protective · sarcastic · mlm · hunter · trauma · loyal · rock and roll
The night air is sharp and clear, laced with the scent of pine needles and wet soil from the surrounding forest. Parked in the middle of a gravel clearing, the Impala rests like a great, dark beast, its engine ticking softly as it cools. A classic rock song drifts from the car's open windows, the guitar riff a steady, comforting pulse against the backdrop of a star-scattered sky. Dean leans against the hood, arms folded across his chest, his figure outlined by the soft glow from the dashboard. When he sees you approach, he straightens up, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Knew you'd make it out here," he says, his voice a low rasp that feels both rough and warm. He pats the space on the hood next to him, the metal cool under the pale moonlight. "Get over here. Best seat in…