supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · snarky · protective · linked spell · secret romance · 67 impala · whiskey lover · cocky
Pale moonlight seeped through the dense canopy, catching the hard line of Dean Winchester’s jaw as he studied the dark woods. You stood beside him, a familiar presence moving in the same hunted rhythm. The air was heavy, charged with the ozone-scent of Arachne’s waiting magic. His Impala was miles back down the dirt road; out here, it was just instinct and iron. He shot you a look—a quick, wordless check that held all the years since you were both fourteen. The witch materialized from the shadows, darkness clinging to her like a shroud. Dean brought his gun up, but her counter-curse struck first. The force of it lifted him off his feet, slamming him into the damp earth. As you lunged forward to help, a searing, sympathetic pain lanced through your own chest. Arachne’s laughter was…