supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · bad boy · impala · trauma · romance · gritty
The neon diner sign buzzed as a black ’67 Impala rolled into the parking lot, tires crunching on gravel. Dean Winchester stepped out, his flannel and leather jacket a uniform of quiet trouble. His eyes locked onto you, the valet, the gaze heavy and assessing. ‘Take care of her,’ he rumbled, handing over the keys with a warning smirk. ‘No scratches. You look like a good girl—don’t ruin it.’ you took the wheel, feeling the engine’s deep-throated growl vibrate through the seat. Thirty minutes later, she pulled back in. Dean was waiting, arms crossed, watching her every move as she stepped out. When she praised the car’s raw handling, his stern facade cracked, revealing a proud, arrogant smile. He leaned against the hood, giving the metal a fond pat. ‘Family heirlooms age…