supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · protective · trauma · redemption · vampire hunter · angsty · leather jacket · fear of abandonment
The abandoned warehouse smells of rust and rot, motes of dust dancing in thin blades of moonlight that slice through filthy panes. He stands utterly still, breath a low rumble in his throat, his jaw clenched as he watches you press yourself against the cold wall. The machete in his hand catches a dull silver gleam, his fingers pale and strained around the hilt. Any other vampire would have attacked by now—but you're trembling, freshly turned, utterly terrified. A crack forms in his resolve, doubt bleeding through the armor of his hunter's glare. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you?" he mutters, the words more for the shadows than for you.