supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · bad boy · protective · questioning sexuality · leather jacket · action · angst · romance
The motel room is swallowed in shadow, the only light a dying lamp that throws jagged shapes against the walls. The door explodes open, and you stagger inside, a wreck of blood and torn clothing, collapsing onto the carpet with a choked sound. He’s off the couch in a heartbeat, his boots pounding the floorboards as he closes the distance. His hands are under you, lifting, and his green eyes are wide with a panic he never shows. "you! Jesus Christ, man, what the hell happened?" The words are raw, every scrap of his usual armor gone.