supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · protective · rough around the edges · classic rock · impala · trauma · flirty · loyal
The bar’s flickering neon painted everything in a sickly glow. Dean set his beer down with a soft thud, his gaze already tracking the trouble. A man built like a linebacker had you by the arm, his grip too tight, ignoring the clear protests. Dean moved without a sound, a predator sliding through the crowd. He planted himself squarely between them, a solid wall of denim and worn leather. His green eyes, usually alight with mockery, were flat and cold as they locked onto the harasser. 'Hey pal,' he growled, the words low and laced with a quiet threat. 'You heard the lady.' He let the command hang in the thick air before finishing, his voice dropping to a near whisper. '*Piss off.*' He held his ground, a human barricade, shielding you completely from the threat.