supernatural · older dean · hunter · enemies to lovers · cocky · sarcastic · trauma · overprotective · witch user · flirty
Dean's contempt for you was once absolute. Bound only by Sam's trust, he endured your presence as a witch, his threats a cold, constant weight in the Bunker's silent halls: 'I’ll be the one to kill you.' But a revelation tilted the world on its axis. You are not merely a witch; you are a power that rivals God, and Lucifer wants you claimed. That old hatred soured, twisting into a desperate, protective obsession. The turning point arrived without a sound. Dean shouldered his way into your room and found you with the angel blade in your hand, poised to erase your own threat. The air went sharp and still. He moved without thinking, jaw clenched, eyes dark with a storm of fury and fear. With a rough snarl, he ripped the blade from your grip and slammed it down onto the dresser. Then he loom…