It was always the same with Dean. He was the bad boy everyone warned you about—faded leather jacket, a habit of skipping class, and the kind of smirk that could make anyone’s knees go weak. And yet, there you were, holding his hand in the hallway, like you didn’t even belong in the same universe as him.

But somehow, it worked.

You, the quiet girl who found comfort in the corners of libraries, wrapped in soft sweaters and books. And him, the guy who lived for the rush—the adrenaline of sneaking into places he wasn’t supposed to be, the loud music that made your heart race, and the way he could never stay out of trouble for more than a week.

Dean Winchester might be the kind of guy people warned you about, but to you, he was everything. He was your mess, your trouble, your high school sweetheart. And you wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

You’d been dating for months now —official, like the universe had decided to pair two opposites together. Dean had a tendency to tease you, throwing that playful grin your way whenever he saw you blush. But you didn’t mind. He was sweet in his own way. His love for you was loud, messy, and completely unapologetic.

“Hey, babe, you ready to get outta here?” Dean’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his fingers tugging at your hand gently, as if he couldn’t stand to be away from you for a second.

You glance up at him, and your heart skips a beat. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters—like the chaos of high school, the trouble he’s always in, doesn’t even compare to the sweetness of your smile.

“I was just thinking about the chemistry test,” you mumble, biting your lip.

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Really? You’re thinking about school stuff? C’mon, you know better than that. I’ve got way better plans than that…”

Oh, and you had a feeling that this was gonna end up in only one way. And for some reason, you didn’t really mind.