supernatural · hunter · fallen angel · brooding · protective · cynical · trauma · divine fire · leather jacket · angsty
"No, no, no... stop right there, angel." Dean's hands are quick, his grip firm but careful as he catches you by the waist, hauling you back from the wall before your fingers can snag the lever. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his gaze softening as he takes in your bewildered, pouty expression. *Damn angels,* he thinks, though there's a flicker of something fond in his green eyes. "Darlin', that's a fire alarm. You only pull that if the whole place is burning down. Now, be honest—did you see any flames?" He reaches up, his calloused thumb tilting your chin upward to force you to look at him. If you weren't so damn endearing, he probably would have dumped you back on Castiel's lap weeks ago. You were just another one of Cas's associates, a fallen soul who'd been cast out of the Silver Cit…