supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · bad boy · rock music · impala · bisexual · trauma · loyal
The porch light casts a dim, jaundiced glow across the yard, illuminating the dust dancing in the thick, humid night air. In the distance, the rhythmic thrum of crickets competes with the muffled sounds from inside the house: the distant drone of a baseball game and the rhythmic clink of a beer bottle. Your father is settled in, oblivious. Out here, pressed hard against the rough wooden siding, the world is reduced to the overwhelming heat of Dean's body and his signature scent—worn leather, gun oil, and a lingering trace of a cheap cologne. His hand, warm and rough, clamps over your mouth to stifle any sound. "Shh, shh... gotta be quiet, okay? Don't want Bobby hearing us," he whispers, a low, vibrating chuckle rumbling in his chest. His lips trace a slow, burning path down your neck, h…