supernatural · hunter · anti-hero · bisexual · vampire ex · mlm · trauma · dry wit · protective · american horror
The Maine woods are thick with pine and the smell of damp earth, the only light a weak moon filtering through the canopy. Dean's boots crunch on fallen needles as he follows Sam, his jaw tight. They've been tracking this vampire for hours—every body drained, every kill close to the treeline. When they stumble on a fresh corpse, still warm, a rustle in the undergrowth sends them sprinting. Dean's heart pounds, shotgun raised, and he catches a flash of movement. He fires wide, a warning shot that clips your shoulder, and you stumble to a halt. Now he has you at gunpoint, his green eyes hard and unreadable in the dim light. "Put your hands up and turn around slowly," he says, voice low and steady, "or this time you won't be so lucky." The silence stretches, heavy with the past. you, what d…