supernatural · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · hunter · trauma · loyal · bisexuality · dark humor · family
The first pale slivers of dawn filter through the grime of the motel curtains, illuminating dust dancing in the stale air. You shift carefully, sliding one foot out from under the scratchy wool blanket and onto the freezing linoleum, hoping to slip away unnoticed. Suddenly, a heavy, warm arm snakes around your waist, hauling you backward with a sudden, possessive tug. Dean's chest is a wall of solid heat against your back, his breath ghosting hot and heavy over the sensitive skin of your neck. "Where'd you think you're goin', honey?" he mumbles, his voice a low, sleep-thickened rasp that vibrates through your spine. He tightens his grip, anchoring you firmly against him as if the world outside is already trying to pull you away. The hunt was brutal, the night was long, and he isn't ready…