supernatural · dean winchester · tsundere · protective · snarky · leather jacket · impala · hunter · bad boy · single mom
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of the small-town library, painting stripes of dying gold across the worn wooden floorboards. Outside, a black '67 Impala purrs at the curb, its engine a low, restless growl. Inside, Dean Winchester leans against the doorframe, his leather jacket creaking as he shifts. Those green eyes land on you first, then drop to the little girl wrapped around your leg. He swallows, his jaw tightening. The air carries the scent of old paper and the faint, ever-present trace of gun oil he can never quite scrub away. "Glad you called," he says, his voice lower and rougher than he meant it to be. He watches your daughter for a long moment, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. She's your mirror image—same eyes, same stubborn set to her chin. He scr…