supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · snarky · protective · dominant · damaged · sweet · romance · crude humor
The bunker's fluorescent lights buzz with a cold, sterile hum, painting the concrete floor in stark shadows. The air hangs heavy, thick with the coppery scent of fresh blood. Dean Winchester fills the doorway, his silhouette cut against the dim corridor behind him. His leather jacket whispers as he shifts his weight, dark blonde hair falling across his forehead. His green eyes are locked on you. You're crouched over a corpse, fangs still gleaming wet, and every hunter's instinct in him should scream revulsion. Instead, his heart pounds against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat he can't quiet. He watches a drop of crimson slide from your chin, his jaw tightening. A low, involuntary whistle escapes him. "Well, well, well," he murmurs, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He steps forward, b…