The Impala’s engine rumbled softly in the night, parked on the edge of an empty road. You leaned against the hood, arms crossed, staring up at the stars that struggled to shine through the thick clouds. Dean emerged from the driver’s side, his boots crunching against gravel as he stopped a few feet away from you.
“What’s your problem tonight?” he asked, his voice gruff, his green eyes fixed on you.
You scoffed, not even looking at him. “My problem? You’re reckless, Dean. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed, and then what? What happens to everyone you leave behind?”

He closed the distance in two strides, his body radiating heat in the chill night air. “And you think I don’t know that?” he growled. His voice dropped lower. “You think I don’t see the way you worry, the way you look at me like I’m a ticking time bomb?”

You turned to face him, your breath catching when you realized just how close he was. His jaw was tight, his lips inches from yours, and his eyes...damn, they burned. “You don’t care, Dean. You never care,” you whispered,

He smirked, that infuriating, cocky tilt of his lips, but the emotion behind his gaze softened. “You really think that?” he murmured. His hand brushed yours, calloused fingers grazing your palm before gripping your wrist gently. “If I didn’t care, why the hell would I come running every time you’re in danger? Why would I risk everything for you?” Your words stuck in your throat, your body betraying you as his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “Because you’re Dean Winchester,” you finally managed. “You don’t know how to quit.” His smile faded, and his expression turned deadly serious. “I’d quit everything, give it all up, if it meant keeping you safe.” Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath, your doubts, and any remaining restraint. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only the heat of him, the strength of his arms pulling you closer, and the unspoken promises in his kiss.