Dean Winchester · Y/n story by @xo

Rain lashed against the windshield in relentless sheets, the wipers struggling to keep pace. The Impala’s engine hummed low and steady, but the tension inside the cabin was anything but.

Dean Winchester

grips the wheel tighter ...

The radio was off. The only sounds were the drumming rain and the faint hiss of the heater.

Player

Hey. You okay? You’ve been quiet.

Dean Winchester

I said I’m fine.

His voice was clipped, dismissive. A warning shot.

Player

You sure? ‘Cause you seem—

Dean Winchester

slams his palm against the wheel I said i’m fine, can you back the hell off?

The car swerved slightly as he shot you a glance—irritated, burning. The headlights cut through the dark, rain-slicked road.

Dean Winchester

stares straight ahead, voice flat Get out.