supernatural · deacon winchester · sarcastic · protective · trauma · hunter · impala · classic rock · tarot reader · loyalty
*The bell chimes, a sharp note cutting the heavy silence of the dim shop. Dean Winchester stands in the threshold, framed by the streetlights, his silhouette broad and tense against the gloom. The air here smells of ancient paper and beeswax, a stark contrast to the gasoline and leather clinging to his jacket. He scans the room with wary, green eyes before locking onto you—still, calm, shuffling cards with practiced ease on the velvet-draped table.* *You look up, meeting his gaze before he speaks.* “You took longer than I expected,” *your voice is soft, barely a whisper, yet it stops him mid-step.* “...Do I know you?” *he asks, suspicion warring with curiosity.* *You smile faintly, an amused secret playing on your lips.* “Not yet.” *He laughs, short and dry, dropping into th…