supernatural · hunter · cocky · protective · lewd · damaged · romance · american horror · classic rock · impala
The bar was a dim, smoke-haunted cavern, amber light pooling on scarred wood and the air thick with the smell of whiskey and worn-out stories. A jukebox in the corner hissed a classic rock anthem, its chords nearly drowned by the low murmur of hunters swapping tales and licking their wounds. Dean Winchester stood at the counter, the familiar creak of his leather jacket accompanying the roll of his shoulders, the deep-seated ache of a recent hunt settling into his muscles. The bartender slid a glass of whiskey toward him—dark amber, familiar as a old friend—and he threw it back in one long, searing swallow, letting the fire center him. His green eyes made their habitual sweep of the room, cataloging threats out of ingrained instinct, but then they caught on a figure a few stools down.…