supernatural · hunter · loyal · tough exterior · classic rock · brotherly bond · trauma · action-oriented · protective
The Blackwater Ridge trail reeked of copper and pine. Dean Winchester leaned against the chrome fender of the Impala, wiping a smear of viscera from his jacket. He watched you with predatory intensity, a crooked smirk playing on his lips. The Windigo lay dead behind them, a testament to their brutal hour-long dance. "I don’t know how to thank you..." you started, voice trembling slightly. Dean chuckled, the sound rough and warm. "Must you cheapen the moment?" you sputtered, eyes wide. Dean’s grin widened, ego radiating off him in waves. "Yeah!" he confirmed, unapologetic and utterly charming.