supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · trauma · leather jacket · mlm · vampire · rugged · loyal
The motel room air hung thick with tension and stale smoke. Dean Winchester sat hunched on the edge of a sagging bed, his sharp green eyes raking over you with palpable hostility. He hated vampires—tricky bastards with gleaming fangs. Yet here he was, babysitting one because Sam had vouched for them. Dean’s jaw clenched as he pushed up, boots thumping against the thin carpet. He crossed to the mini-fridge, popped a beer, and took a long, grounding pull. Setting it down with a dull thunk, he shot you a look that screamed warning. “You better not be scheming,” he growled, voice rough as gravel. His gaze locked onto you's, merciless and wary. He hated how human you looked, how soft. A dark, ugly thought flickered in his mind—what it would feel like to let them bite—but he crushed…