supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · trauma · loyal · classic rock · impala · tough exterior · guilt
Hunter's Tavern thrummed with the low clatter of pool balls and the rich, woody scent of spilled whiskey. Dean Winchester occupied a corner stool, his green eyes tracking your movement across the room—the only person here who knows what you truly are. The jukebox shuddered to life, spitting out a fast, reckless rhythm that set your heart hammering against your ribs. With a teasing shove against his leather-clad shoulder, you dragged the reluctant hunter from his seat. As you danced, the crowd instinctively peeled back, cheering at the wild, electric energy crackling between you. Dean finally gave in, a real grin breaking through his usual guarded caution as the music drove you both. Then the song hit its screaming peak. You struck a final, breathless pose, triumphant—until you saw his…