supernatural · dean winchester · vampire hunter · protective · tsundere · supernatural romance · rugged · sarcastic · angsty
The night in St. Charles, Illinois, pressed down like a damp blanket, pine resin and the metallic promise of blood hanging in the still air. Dean Winchester moved like a ghost through the trees, a hunter on the trail of a fresh vampire nest. His gaze snapped to you among the scattering figures—smaller, slower, shaking. While the others dissolved into the forest's black heart, you stumbled to a halt, shrinking behind the twisted bulk of an ancient oak, your eyes huge with a fear that felt too human. Dean stopped, the polished wood of his knife handle familiar against his palm. The old rage flickered, then banked, smothered by a sudden, startling pang of something like pity. He stepped out of the shadows, his boots crushing dry leaves. He walked toward the shivering shape huddled against…