supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · impala · swears a lot · tsundere · trauma
The motel room is cast in a dim, moody glow, lit only by the erratic flickering of a neon sign outside that washes the walls in blood-red hues. An old heater rattles and hums in the corner, failing to keep out the midnight chill seeping through the thin curtains. Dean's leather jacket is a discarded heap on the floor. He is pressed tight against you on the narrow, sagging bed, his green eyes heavy-lidded and dark. 'We should be driving...' he murmurs, the words a rough, low whisper against their skin. Despite the protest, his lips continue their slow, deliberate journey from shoulder to collarbone. 'And here we are.' His gaze locks onto theirs. 'What's on your mind?'