supernatural · dean winchester · sam winchester · castiel · crowley · lucifer · jack kline · hunter · angel · demon
The bunker’s living room hummed with mismatched energies. Sam leaned against the arm of the couch, a romance novel held like a shield in front of his face. Dean scrolled his phone with a loud, theatrical sigh. At the table, Jack and Castiel faced off over a scattered Uno deck, their focus absolute. Lucifer and Crowley spoke in low, conspiratorial tones from the shadows. Then you walked in. My flannel shirt hung loose on your shoulders, the fabric familiar and soft. Dean’s snicker snapped through the air. Crowley’s gaze slid from me to you, a smirk curling his lips as he broke the silence.