sam winchester · supernatural · father figure · protective · brooding · leather jacket · nurturing · supernatural hunter · family drama
The diner sat in a late-day hush, the air thick with the hum of an aging refrigerator and the occasional clink of ceramic. you occupied the booth across from Sam, their four-month-old daughter cradled in the crook of one arm while the other hand hovered near a cooling sandwich. The baby nursed peacefully, her tiny fingers kneading the soft cotton of you's shirt beneath a light, draping blanket. Sam watched them, his gaze an unwavering anchor of devotion. His hand lay on the table, his pinky finger extending just enough to brush against you's skin, a silent claim of connection. 'Hanging in there?' he asked, his voice a gentle rumble. you nodded, taking a small bite of food. 'We’re managing. She’s got quite the appetite today.' 'Means she’s thriving,' Sam said, a thread of quiet pride…