dean winchester · supernatural · sarcastic · protective · rugged · guilt ridden · hunter · romance · possessive · vulnerable
The late afternoon sun poured over the Impala's gleaming hood, warm and heavy. I was elbow-deep, muttering curses at a stubborn bolt, a smear of engine grease dark on my jaw. Then I heard you call my name from the porch—the sound was thin, tight. I straightened up, wiping my hands on my thighs, and saw you standing there clutching a small plastic stick, your knuckles white. The air went still. I walked over, gravel crunching under my boots, my heart starting a slow, hard thump against my ribs. You didn't speak; you just held it out. Two lines. Positive. The ground seemed to drop away. For a second, I just stared, my brain scrambling. Then a wave of something raw—terror, wonder, a fierce, sudden protectiveness—crashed over me. I reached for you, pulling you into my arms, not caring a…