I Read This Atleast Once A Week

HIMBO .ᐟ RAFE ┆ meeting reader ✶

❝ not all quite there . . .

. . . crazy with a wrench ❞

pure lapdog behavior 𖥔 unabashed showing off chaotic inner monologue 𖥔 himbo .ᐟ rafe’s introduction 𖥔

“hey, hey,” rafe slapped topper in the chest about five times until topper responded, “stop hitting me, i’m right here.”

rafe ducked down in his seat suddenly, bracing his head, “did she see me?” topper looked around, already over rafe’s behavior, “who? why are you in that position, you look like a fetus, dude.”

rafe peeked over his arms, seeing you were now turned around. he blew out a breath then responded, “that girl over there. you know her? don’t answer, i don’t want you to know her. actually, can you go over there and put in a good word?”

topper blanched, “i am so confused. do you want me to talk to her or not?” rafe shrugged, tilting his side to side, “a little. not too long. crap,” he said suddenly, ducking back down, “i think she looked over again. or am i delusional? i can’t tell anymore. she can’t see me until i’m ready.”

topper frowned, “ready? what are you about to do, you just healed your ankle from jumping two stories, don’t do that again.”

rafe shrugged, “i can and i will. just . . tell her about how much i can press. girls like that right? does she look like she’s into bench pressing? don’t look at her. say something about how i fix cars. and i can fix her car if she has a car. if she doesn’t, tell her i’ll buy her one.”

topper stood, making his way over while walking backwards, “so, that’s all gonna scare her. i got it,” he turned around, making his way towards you.

rafe shifted in his chair, crossing a leg over the over, then putting them back down. he stretched to flex his arms, then quickly put them down too. how the heck do you sit?

while rafe wondered that, topper was doing his best to introduce rafe, “he’s not all quite there . . crazy with a wrench, though.”

rafe looked up after he settled himself when you turned your head to look at him, smiling when you spotted him. that means go, right? rafe sprung up, making his way over, not being able to sit still for another second now that you looked at him. smiled at him.

“sup?” he said once he reached you two, gesturing his head for topper to go away. topper got the hint, returning to his seat. passing rafe, he muttered, “she doesn’t have a car.”

rafe blurted, “i can buy you one,” startling you. he wasn’t able to see topper shaking his head in disappointment as he walked away. your brows scrunched, “sorry?”

rafe smiled nervously, “me too. um, i can buy you a jacket. you look cold,” you realized you were rubbing your arm, “oh, yeah. no, it’s fine. not that bad,” you laughed slightly.

rafe shook his head, anxious you were cold and possibly uncomfortable, “no, if you’re cold, i’ll get you a jacket.”

you tilted your lips, “it’s fine, really. i’m leaving soon, anyway. kind of bored . . was that your friend?” you attempted conversation, but rafe was distracted, staring at you after you mentioned leaving, until he heard the last part of the sentence.

“huh? no, don’t think about him. where are you going?” he didn’t want you to leave yet. did topper talk about his bench press? did you care? did you want to see the callous on his hand from handling tools?

“uh . . just back home. my comfy place,” you muttered shyly. rafe nodded, then frowned. you don’t have a car, are you walking? alone? “i can walk you. i can buy you a jacket on the way. what kind of cars do you like?”

you couldn’t keep up with all that he said at once. you giggled, rafe slightly going weak in the knees at the sound, “sure, you can walk me. i’m still fine about the jacket. mustang’s are pretty cool. what’s your favorite?”

rafe responded distractedly, “the one that drives. you said i can walk you?”

you really have never met a guy like him, “yeah, but i don’t even know your name,” you narrowed your eyes, jokingly suspicious. you didn’t expect rafe’s response, “i’d endure fifteen stab wounds before i hurt you, i’m rafe,” he held his hand out.

your eyes widened, “oh . . don’t do that. nice to meet you,” you shook his hand, responding with your name, then turned to start walking. rafe followed alongside you, thinking about how sweaty his hands just were and how you probably didn’t like that. is he walking alright? are you sure you don’t want a jacket?

“your hand . . ” you suddenly spoke. rafe stilled slightly, scared you noticed the sweatiness. great one, rafe. but then you continued, “it felt rough. what’s on it?” rafe turned to you quickly, excited you brought it up and not the sweat thing. he extended his hand again, “i have a callous, look . . ”

lee byung-hun

about me!

abby. 8teen. she/her. latina/québécoise. media student.

NAVIGATION: masterlist ⋆ wattpad

BACKUP BLOG: @hollywoodmaneaters

requests!

i am always open for requests but just know that I have a tight school schedule. therefore, I might not always answer them fast enough. you can request whoever you like!!

I usually write reader as a female but you can always request for reader to be male or nonbinary!

side note!

english is not my first language. therefore I ask of you to be kind and if you see any mistakes let me know!

“the calm before the storm”

stormshadow (lee byung hun) x you

stormshadow had been hired by cobra commander to retrieve the warheads from the gi joes. but they failed to inform him that he had to work with a partner… someone he had grown very fond of

──── 𖣘 ────

“stormshadow, this is y/n. you will be working together to retrieve the warheads.” the commander said, leaving you and him both in shock as he walked off.

“i’m sorry, i wasn’t told i was working with anyone.” you said, breaking the silence.

“me neither.” he replied, “that’s alright, ms y/n? i presume?”

he extended his hand out as he the other slipped his sword back into its sleeve, not wanting to scare you away.

“yeah, stormshadow right? i’ve heard stories about you.”

he nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on it.

“i’m honored.” he smiled.

“c’mon, people! planes taking off!” the pilot announced, making stormshadow take your hand, bringing you to the private jet.

once you were on the jet, you took your seats, stormshadow sitting right beside you.

“so is it true?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“what is?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“you have those little star throwing thingies.” you tried to hold back your laughter, making him roll his eyes playfully.

he pulled something out of his pocket, holding it up with two fingers as your mouth dropped.

“it’s beautiful!” you gasped, admiring the shuriken.

stormshadow watched with pride as you were in awe of his weapon, it was so easy to get your attention, he loved it.

for the rest of the flight, he showed you one by one each weapon he had in him, even giving you one of his shuriken as a gift.

──── 𖣘 ────

when you landed, the two of you headed straight to the location the g.i. joe’s were camping at.

sneaking into the facility was easy, but for stormshadow he was having a hard time, he couldn’t for the life of him focus. maybe it was the similar white suit you had on that perfectly hugged your body, showing off your curves. or the fact that he was supposed to be doing a mission with the best girl he had ever met.

in-and-out. easy.

naturally, the joe’s had caught on quickly, causing the entire mission to take a dangerous toll. stormshadow was a professional, he knew what he needed to do, and most of the time, he did it all for the money.

little did he expect himself to actually enjoy this particular mission. he stole glances from you whenever he could, making sure you were okay.

when you had gotten your hands on the breifcase of warheads, he guided you every step of the way as the two of you escaped.

however, there was a complication just as you could step out of the facility. the guard must have been hiding, because stormshadow had almost ran right into his arms.

you thought quickly, taking the shuriken he had given you and tossing it right into the guards abdomen, causing him to fold over, lesring your path.

stormshadow halted, making you crash into him.

“where did that come from?!” he asked frantically as he looked around.

“what? what?! that was me!”

“you?!”

“yea! how could you not have seen him! he was practically hiding in plain sight!”

“we’ll settle this later, we gotta get out of here.” he lightly scolded, grabbing your arm as you took off.

──── 𖣘 ────

when you got back to cobra base, you were greeted at the front gate by the head commander.

“ah, y/n! i knew i could count on you!” he said, pulling you into a hug as his hand got dangerously low behind your back.

stormshadow didn’t leave his action unnoticed.

“well, i had help.” you awkwardly chuckled as you pulled away.

after some small talk, you retreated back to your room, throwing yourself onto the bed as you let out a sigh of relief.

“if he touches you again, i will kill him.”

you jerked up from the bed, letting out a loud scream as you grabbed your gun, aiming it at the voice.

“whoa, whoa.” it was stormshadow. he stepped into the light, making you throw your gun aside.

“jesus… you scared me.” you chuckled, hand on your chest as you sat back down.

“i thought you were a professional?” he teased, stepping in front of you.

“and by the way, you don’t have to kill him, everything’s fine. he’s just touchy.” you shook your head.

“we’ll see if he dares to lay a hand on you again.” stormshadow replied. “you know, that was some impressive skills back there, you saved me… i feel like i should owe you something.”

you grinned. “it was an easy throw, you’re just getting soft on me.”

“maybe.” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes. “i can’t focus with you here…” he admitted.

“that’s too bad.” you told him. “maybe you should find another job.”

“i don’t think i want to.”

you were now inches away from each other, you could feel his breath panning on your skin, his eyes still never leaving yours.

before you could stand a chance to seal the deal, the door flew open.

“who’s ready for another mission?”

──── 𖣘 ────

i’m not kidding when i say i’ve watched 3 movies that lee byung hun had starred in in the past 24hours. i am losing my mind.

the movie this is based on is g.i. joe, go watch!

Answer this ― Hayden Christensen

summary: Being a smaller actress and being chronically online is all fun and games until you're very much famous and older boyfriend comes into the background of your Instagram live so you make him do a Q and A.

cw: fem!reader, age gap mentioned, nothing smutty just pure fluff

req: this was requested by @jameskellysgirl! I hope you enjoy mama

Word count: 2159 words

You watched as the chat moved quickly on the screen, trying to read out someones comment while you quickly blended in the foundation on your face.

It was five p.m. and your boyfriend of a year and five months was taking you to your favorite Italian restaurant for the evening for your usual date night even though you insisted on staying in for the night and ordering a few pizzas but your lovely boyfriend wanted to spoil you.

You called yourself lucky because you were dating the infamous Hayden Christensen who was a much bigger and well known actress then you.

The two of you met at an after-party for an event that you were invited to as a plus-one with one of your friends. The two of you instantly clicked and immediately started flirting which led to quite romantic dates and then eventually; he asked you out and you said yes.

You knew that this was a different kind of relationship since he never really dated someone much younger than him and you never dated someone older then you before either so it was new for the both of you but the two of you made it work and you both had a happy healthy relationship.

You are chronically online, as your friend would say, but you respect your boyfriends wishes and rarely posted him unless you had permission too.

Hayden was a private person and didn't have social media nor did he talk about his private life outside of acting. He just preferred to stay on his farm in Canada and build ponds to eventually watch the wildlife formed around it.

He loved to stay at home and cook you a home meal but sometimes he would just rather take you out and spoil you like you deserved because in his eyes; you and his daughter were his whole world.

So, as you sat in front of your phone doing a Instagram live stream while putting on your makeup, you were surprised when you noticed your boyfriend come into view.

Hayden was wearing his signature Carhartt hat, a black shirt, a black button-down shirt over it, black jeans, and his Adidas Oswego. He looked good, per-usual and you couldn't help but smile as you saw him appear behind you on your phone screen.

"Hey bab- Oh I didn't know you were streaming" He spoke sheepishly as he gave the phone a little wave which sent your comments going wild. You smiled at him, motioning him to come closer as he stood in the doorway. "Babe, come here" You said confidently and his cheeks turned a soft shade of red.

Hayden didn't understand much about Instagram lives but he understood that it was live and there was at least over hundred people watching him in the comfort of his own home. He didn't mind it of course because he loved to hear you read out the comments about him but that was only because he was off camera.

He walked over to you nervously, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently massaging them. You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch. Tilting your head back to look up at him, you murmured, "Say hi to the camera."

"Hi everyone" He flashed the camera a nervous smile before turning his attention back on you. "You look beautiful by the way" He whispered in your ear which made you blush vigorously.

When you looked back at the screen, you saw the truckload of comments begging and pleading for a Q and A between you and Hayden but mostly for him. It wasn't a bad idea since he had been coming more and more out of his comfort zone recently and you knew wouldn't be opposed to a few questions.

"Do you wanna do a little Q&A for all your depraved fans?" you teased, watching as he gave you a thoughtful look. After a moment, he shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. Grabbing a chair, he pulled it up beside you and settled in, resting his hand on your thigh.

"Sure, what's the harm in that?" he replied with a grin.

You giggled, looking at the screen to find a first question to ask him. One of them caught your attention so you turned your head to look at him. "Who's you're favorite character in Star Wars?" You asked him which made him let out a chuckle before smacking his lips together/

"Well, I always liked the characters in masks when I was younger, so it’s probably Boba Fett," he responded, his eyes softening as he looked at you with a loving smile, clearly appreciative that you were continuing the conversation.

"Who's yours?" he asked, and you couldn’t help but blush, the question catching you slightly off guard.

"I always liked Anakin," you replied, your voice a little more confident than you felt, though the warmth of your blush didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. His laughter filled the air, light, and teasing, as he grinned at your response.

"Really?" He asked, slightly in disbelief that you, his girlfriend, favored the character he played. You sheepishly nodded your head, before burying your face into your hands as a way to hide the blush forming on your face.

Hayden quickly noticed this and grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face and lacing his fingers with one of them as he moved the other one to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Why are you so embarrassed? It's cute" He reassured you and you just rolled your eyes, desperately wanting to move on to the next question.

You glanced at the screen, scanning through the fan questions until one caught your eye. Smiling to yourself, you finally settled on it. "How would you feel about owning a cat?" you asked, unable to stifle a soft laugh.

Hayden, of course, knew you were a cat person. He knew you’d been wanting one for ages, so it wasn’t a surprise when that particular question popped up. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at you with a knowing smile, then ran a hand over his face.

"Y'know, I’ve thought about it because you keep asking me," he admitted, glancing to the side for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I’ve considered it. They’re great pets, and honestly, I think Briar would love having one around, too."

"Plus, we can always get a barn cat" You spoke with a confident smile and he nodded his head at you, agreeing with you in that moment. "We could but were are not getting those hairless cats," He said and you made an offended expression at him before crossing your arms over your chest.

"Why not?! They are so cute-" you playfully jabbed at him, knowing that this would start a playful banter between the two of you.

"They are ugly!" He argued back which made you laugh and double over in your chair, placing a hand on his shoulder before straightening yourself back up and shaking your head at him.

"They are an ugly cute." you remarked and he couldn't help but shake his head at you while you searched for another question for him to answer.

"Okay... Have you thought about getting social media?" You asked, bitting down on you're bottom lip as you watched him think of a response.

Hayden chuckled, leaning back a bit as he considered the question. "Ah, social media... you know, I get asked that a lot," he said with a smile. "Honestly, I’ve thought about it. I get that it’s a great way to connect with fans and share a bit more of, well... real life."

He paused, scratching the back of his neck, looking thoughtful. "But I kinda like being a bit of a mystery. Besides, you know how bad I am with technology—I’d probably end up posting the same thing five times or something," he laughed. "Maybe one day... but for now, I’ll just live vicariously through your account!"

You shook your head, looking down at the groan as you played with the necklace around your neck. "So no social media?" you responded, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged with a playful grin, "Yeah, I think for now, no social media. I like keeping things a bit more low-key." He paused, giving you a knowing look. "But who knows? Maybe I'll surprise everyone one day and join. I'll just need you to give me a crash course on how to post the right thing without embarrassing myself."

He laughed softly, his usual laid-back charm shining through. "Until then, I'll stick to enjoying all the posts you share instead."

"I feel like when you do join, you'll break the internet" You joked before looking back at the screen to see the time. it was almost time for you to leave since you had a reservation but you had time for one more question so you looked at the comments again while Hayden caressed your thigh.

"When are you gonna propose?" you asked him and he just gave you a look. Sometimes you're boyfriend was difficult to read and maybe that was because he liked to keep things private but you also wanted to know how he would respond to your question.

Hayden gave you a small smirk, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something deeper. He leaned back slightly, as if considering how to respond. He was always a bit of a mystery, especially when it came to things that mattered most.

After a brief pause, he looked at you with a knowing smile, though his gaze was soft, almost tender. "You know me too well," he said, his voice low and teasing. "I like to keep a little suspense, don’t I?"

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering near your face. “But… when I do, you’ll know. It’ll be everything you deserve.”

His tone was serious, but there was still that playful edge. "Until then, I think you’ll just have to keep wondering."

You rolled your eyes, gently pushing his shoulder as you pouted at him slightly. "You're no fun" A laugh escaped past your boyfriend's lips when you said that, making him just shrug your shoulders before you turned your attention onto the camera.

"Alright, I'm ending the live since Mr. Supense over is taking me out. Night" You quickly spoke into the camera before finally ending your live. Once the live ended, you turned your attention to your boyfriend who was just staring at you with a loving expression on his face.

You really did wonder if he thought about it; being married to you. You knew you wanted that life with Hayden and you also knew that Hayden wanted to have another kid, to give Briar that opportunity to be a big sister so you really did want to know if that was in the cards of your relationship.

"Are you gonna propose one day?" You asked seriously, tilting your head to the side as you wanted for him to respond.

Hayden met your gaze, his expression softening as he sensed the seriousness in your question. He didn’t rush to answer, instead taking a moment to look at you with that familiar, thoughtful expression he often wore when he was being sincere.

“Of course I am,” he said quietly, his voice steady but full of warmth. He reached for your hand, gently squeezing it. “You’re everything to me. When the time is right, I’ll ask you. You’ll know it, I promise.”

His gaze lingered on you, his smile tender but knowing. "I want it to be something special—something that feels right for both of us."

You couldn't help but smile back at him. Hayden was always like that, you remembered your first date with him and how he wanted the moment to be special for both of you which ultimately led to you spraining your ankle because you decided to wear heels and him having to carry you up to your apartment.

It was definitely memorable despite the sprained ankle. It was special and something you often talked and joked about.

"You are always keeping me on my toes" You replied jokingly as the two of you were seemingly leaning closer to each other for a kiss.

Hayden chuckled softly, the playful spark in his eyes growing as he leaned in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. “I can’t help it,” he teased, his voice low and warm. “It’s fun keeping you guessing.”

The space between you seemed to shrink as you both leaned in, the anticipation hanging in the air. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as he smiled, just before closing the distance for a kiss. The moment felt like a quiet promise, an unspoken understanding that whatever was ahead, you’d face it together.

A/N: Hello my babies! I hope you all enjoy this and espically the person who requested this! I actually had a lot of fun writing this and I am really proud of my work! This is also my first ever Hayden Christensen content on this app so feel free to like or reblog! I love you all!

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. on the run,

summary. you're being chased by a werewolf and holy hell! werewolves are real!

pairing. dean winchester x civilian!reader genre. fluffy

wordcount. 529

The thing chasing you is not human.

You don’t know what it is, but people don’t run on all fours like that. People don’t snarl like that—low and guttural, vibrating in your bones. And people sure as hell don’t have glowing yellow eyes that catch the light like a predator.

Your lungs burn as you sprint through the woods, dodging trees, stumbling over roots. Your pulse is a wild thing, hammering in your throat, your ears. The town bar had been warm, safe, normal. A couple of drinks. A walk home. You didn’t expect—this.

Branches snap behind you. It’s gaining.

You risk a glance over your shoulder and instantly regret it.

Too close. Too fast.

You’re not gonna make it.

A flash of silver—gunfire.

You duck on instinct as something whistles through the air, followed by a sickening thunk.

A man steps out of the darkness. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, all leather and rough edges, a gun still raised in his hands. The werewolf—because, holy shit, that’s a werewolf—lets out a strangled howl before dropping like a sack of bricks, the silver bullet lodged deep in its skull.

Silence. Your breath heaves in the aftermath, your legs wobbling like a newborn deer.

The man exhales, rolling his shoulders like this is just another Tuesday. He spins the gun, tucks it into the back of his jeans, then turns to you with the kind of slow, assessing look that makes your stomach flip.

"You okay?" he asks. His voice is low, rough—gravel wrapped in honey.

You blink at him. Open your mouth. Close it. Then gesture wildly to the very dead monster a few feet away.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

He winces. "Okay. So. Bad news? That was a werewolf. Good news? It’s dead."

"Werewolves aren’t real," you say automatically, brain still playing catch-up.

He snorts. "Try telling that to him."

You stare at him, then back at the corpse. The fur is already receding, limbs twisting back into something almost human. Your stomach turns.

"What—what the hell is going on?"

Leather Jacket Guy tilts his head, eyes sharp, unreadable. Then, like a switch, his face softens—just a little. "You from around here?"

You nod, still catching your breath.

"You alone?"

"Uh. Not anymore?"

That gets a grin out of him, small but cocky as hell. He extends a hand. "Dean Winchester."

You take it, hesitantly. His grip is warm, solid. "…Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats, like he’s testing the sound of it. "Alright, Y/N. Hate to break it to you, but the world’s a little weirder than you thought."

"No shit," you deadpan, which makes him chuckle.

The sound does something weird to your stomach.

Dean glances back at the body, then back at you. His expression shifts, that easy grin dimming just a little. "You should come with me. Just for tonight. Lay low, let me explain some things."

You should say no. You should scream, run, pretend none of this happened. But you just watched a man turn into a monster, and this guy—this Dean—saved your life like it was nothing.

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze.

"…You got whiskey?"

Dean grins. "Sweetheart, I got the whole bottle."

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

COOLSVILLE ─── dean winchester

warnings! mentions of drug use (420 blaze it!)

word count! 1.8k

you had no idea how it started—how you became the kind of person who burst into your best friend’s apartment rambling about ghosts like it was just another tuesday. if you had to pinpoint it, though, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that sam winchester, despite trying so hard to be normal, had never been able to shake the magnetism of the weird.

you met sam at stanford. you weren’t really the type for the whole serious academia thing, but somehow, the two of you had just clicked. maybe it was the way he always seemed to be carrying the weight of the world, and you had a knack for making people lighten up. maybe it was because you were both sort of weirdos in your own ways—you, with your love for old urban legends and half-baked conspiracy theories, and sam, with his way of knowing just a little too much about the things you brought up.

either way, he was your best friend. he never judged you when you showed up to his dorm room high as hell, rambling about cryptids or some unsolved murder case that had captivated you for the week. and when he moved in with jess, you adopted her into your circle just as fast.

which is why, when something seriously weird happened in or around stanford, sam was the first person you thought of.

the rumors had started a few weeks ago—hikers going missing near an old, abandoned motel off the highway. people talked about hearing whispers in the woods, seeing shadows move even when there was nothing to cast them. classic ghost shit. but what really got you was the fact that no one seemed to be doing anything about it. the cops brushed it off, called it accidents, but you weren’t buying it.

and sure, maybe you weren’t a hunter or whatever, but come on. it was just a ghost. how hard could it be?

the knock on sam’s apartment door was way too enthusiastic for someone who wasn’t trying to break it down. before he could even get up to answer it, the door swung open, and you burst in like a whirlwind, eyes wide, hair slightly messy, and smelling faintly of weed.

“okay, dude, i know you don’t do the whole hunting thing anymore, but hear me out—" you started, barely pausing to breathe as you plopped down onto sam’s couch. "there’s some seriously weird shit happening just outside town. like, i think it’s a ghost. it has to be. i mean, i don’t actually know jack shit about ghosts, but the vibes? immaculate. real haunted as hell energy. i’d go check it out myself, but i also don’t know how to check out ghosts, and also, i’m high, and this just sounds like a sick idea—”

“hey,” sam cut in, looking like he was already regretting whatever was about to happen next. “this is my brother, dean.”

you stopped mid-rant, finally realizing there was another person in the room.

dean winchester was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, watching you with a smirk that told you he had been very entertained by your little speech.

he had this whole rugged, effortlessly cool thing going on—leather jacket, cocky half-smile, green eyes that practically twinkled with amusement. the kind of guy who probably had stories that would make your ghost story sound like a kindergarten fairy tale.

“well, hey there,” he said, leaning forward slightly, clearly enjoying your reaction.

you exhaled, collecting yourself. “hey, cool. nice to meet you.” then, without missing a beat, you turned right back to sam. “so, about the ghost shit—are you in?”

dean let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “you know, sammy, i like this one.”

sam shot him a glare. “no. absolutely not.”

“oh, come on,” dean drawled, grinning as he nudged sam with his elbow. “indulge your friend, would ya? she’s clearly passionate about this ghost crap.”

“i am not indulging her,” sam huffed, arms crossed. “we’re not going on some ghost hunt just because she saw a couple of weird reddit posts.”

you scoffed. “okay, rude. first of all, i did my research. second of all, it wasn’t reddit, it was the newspaper and reddit —which, honestly, i feel like makes it more credible.”

sam shot you a deadpan look.

dean snorted. “see? now we have to go.”

“dean.”

“sam.”

dean clapped a hand on sam’s shoulder, his grin widening. “come on, man. what’s the worst that could happen?”

sam let out a long, suffering sigh, running a hand down his face. “i hate both of you.”

you beamed. “so that’s a yes?”

“fine,” he muttered, already regretting everything.

dean smirked. “atta boy, sammy.”

you didn’t know how, but somehow, you convinced them. or maybe dean had been looking for a little excitement. either way, an hour later, you were in the backseat of the nicest car you’d ever been in—dean’s impala—on the way to check out your “ghost.”

dean had been grilling you about what, exactly, you’d heard.

“so, people are just... disappearing?”

“yeah,” you said, leaning forward between the front seats. “like, they go hiking, and then they just don’t come back. no bodies, no signs of a struggle. just gone. and people have been talking about hearing whispers in the woods. creepy shit.”

dean hummed, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “and you figured this was a ghost?”

you shrugged. “what else would it be?”

dean smirked. “oh, sweetheart. you have no idea.”

that should have been your first clue that you were in way over your head.

you were about twenty minutes outside of town, where the paved roads had turned to dirt and the streetlights had long since disappeared. the deeper into the woods you drove, the quieter it got—too quiet. even with the car rumbling beneath you, there was a heaviness in the air, a weird sort of stillness that made your skin prickle.

dean noticed it too, because his hands tightened around the wheel. “yeah, this place has a vibe,” he muttered.

“yeah, a creepy one,” you agreed. “we sure this was a good idea?”

“no,” sam said bluntly.

dean just grinned. “that’s what makes it fun.”

when the impala finally rolled to a stop at the edge of the woods, you realized just how dark it was out here. the trees stretched high, their branches twisting together to block out most of the moonlight. the headlights cast long, jagged shadows that seemed to move when you weren’t looking.

you swallowed hard. okay. maybe this wasn’t one of your brightest ideas.

sam sighed, pushing open his door. “let’s just get this over with.”

you followed suit, stepping out and instantly regretting not bringing a jacket. the night air was sharp, colder than it had been in town. goosebumps prickled along your arms.

dean opened the trunk, revealing an arsenal of weapons and tools that had you raising an eyebrow. “okay, what the hell?”

“what?” dean said, grabbing a flashlight and a shotgun like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you gestured wildly. “this is not standard ghost-hunting equipment. you’ve got, like—holy water? is that a machete?”

sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “this is a terrible idea.”

dean ignored him. instead, he turned to you with that same cocky smirk. “what, you thought we were just gonna bust out a ouija board and call it a day?”

“honestly? yeah.”

dean chuckled. “well, welcome to the real world, sweetheart.”

you didn’t like the way he said that.

sam handed you a flashlight—nothing fancy, just a regular one—and muttered something under his breath about how this was so stupid as the three of you started towards the trailhead.

the dirt path was narrow, winding between thick trees that made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. the further you went, the more the shadows stretched, twisting like something alive.

and then you heard it.

a whisper.

faint, barely there, but close enough to make your stomach drop.

you froze. “uh. did you hear that?”

dean and sam exchanged a look. that was never a good sign.

and then, before you could say anything else, something moved in the trees.

something big.

the branches cracked. leaves rustled.

your breath caught in your throat.

oh.

oh, shit.

this was so not just a ghost.

you didn’t really remember how it all went down. one second, you were frozen in place, staring at the shifting shadows in the trees. the next, something exploded from the darkness—too fast, too inhuman.

a blur of motion. a guttural snarl.

and then pain.

something huge slammed into you, knocking the air from your lungs as you went flying. the impact was brutal, sending you crashing to the ground so hard that the world tilted. the taste of copper flooded your mouth.

you barely had time to register the weight pressing down on you before claws tore through your skin, sharp and merciless. a ragged scream ripped from your throat, but it was drowned out by the thing’s snarl.

you struggled, kicking, thrashing—fighting—but it was too strong. its breath was hot and rancid against your face, its growl vibrating through your bones. the sharp, burning pain of teeth sinking into flesh stole whatever fight you had left.

somewhere, distantly, you heard sam shout your name.

a gunshot rang out.

the weight lifted.

you gasped, but the air barely made it to your lungs. everything burned—your skin, your ribs, the deep, searing wound where the thing’s teeth had sunk in.

somewhere above you, voices clashed, distant but frantic.

“dean! she’s—it got—” sam’s voice was raw with panic, his footsteps pounding toward you.

“get her up! we gotta move!” dean’s voice, sharp and urgent, cut through the haze.

“this was stupid!” sam shouted, closer now. you barely felt it when his hands pressed against your arm, shaking slightly as he tried to assess the damage. “it was reckless—we shouldn’t have brought her out here!”

dean let out a ragged breath. “we’ll talk about it later, sammy—right now, we need to get her back before—just get her up!

your body felt impossibly heavy, like the ground had wrapped itself around you, pulling you deeper. sam’s voice blurred in and out, shifting from frantic words to muffled sounds.

“stay with me—hey, keep your eyes open—come on, you’re okay—”

but you weren’t.

the darkness was creeping in at the edges of your vision, and no matter how hard you tried to hold on, it was winning.

you thought you felt someone scoop you up—strong arms, the scent of leather and gunpowder grounding you for a brief moment. the motion made your stomach lurch, a dull ache radiating from every part of you.

the voices—sam’s frantic, dean’s sharp—blurred together, growing distant. you tried to focus, tried to hold onto something—anything—but the heaviness pulled at you, dragging you under before you could fight it.

breezy's notes: because i am nothing if not a die hard scooby-doo fan! also, had to make up for all the sad shit that i was posting lol. thank you dolly for making all the decisions for the visuals bc i could not make them for the life of me 🤍 it is also important to note that canon is a suggestion here and not a rule lmao. ALMOST FORGOT THIS WEREWOLF! READER IS THE SAME AS THE WEREWOLF! READER IN BURNT SUGAR, SO THIS SERIES (??) WILL BE AN ORIGIN STORY I GUESS

if you'd like to be added to/removed from the tag list pls lmk!

tags ⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭: @floralscented @deansbeer @aileenunfiltered @honeyryewhiskey @florchids @bluemerakis @tortureddarkstar @figthoughts @ultravi0lence14 @misatxox @foolinthera1n @deansenvy @hoffmansgirl @eepwtf @lawboysammyy @jjmbbg @tinas111 @soldiersgirl @whisperingdaze @abox-of-rocks @starzify @acklesgal @beausling

Feeding my delusions 💋

Dating Hayden Christensen headcanons x NotFamous!Reader. | Fluff, slight nsfw topics since this would be a relationship with an older man.

°°°

˙ . ꒷ ˙— Naturally so, the age gap made him hesitate at first, his mind was plagued with self doubt. 'She's so young', 'she could be my daughter, even if she's already an adult', 'people might think I'm taking advantage— would I be taking advantage? I don't want to do that,' 'would I want my kid to date someone my age when she's older? Absolutely not.' '...It's just lunch, what's the worst that can happen?'

In the end, there was something about you that he couldn't shake off, eventually leading to him asking for your number when he knew your shift was about to end- very awkwardly, might I add. No, fame did not make him a smooth talker. At all. And he was busy hoping you wouldn't find him creepy for asking you out! But you didn't, you said yes. A little too quick.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— First date would be something low-key, especially now that he's back in the public eye. He knows he has to be careful, so he'd be mindful of that. He's a classy gentleman, no quickies in the bathroom as fun that may be that's for when you're already an established couple. If not a simple lunch, dinner at a nice restaurant. I do think he'd first take you out for lunch, though. Dinner is too serious and despite being 43, he probably doesn't want to make himself look and sound much more boring and older than he already is. Besides, lunch is quicker, if you wished to run away, you could. Dinner would be a guaranteed second date.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— I don't believe he'd take you out with the sole purpose of sleeping together, he's at an age where you're either living the bachelor life or settling down. He's got a kid, any hookups he might have are super low-key and most likely with coworkers. With you it would be different, when the time is right. Best believe he won't be taking you to a motel. He's doing this the right way and he's a patient fella. Now, this man screams vanilla, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with this! I mean think about it, having your handsome man who tends to hold some pretty intense eye contact, during missionary, holding your gaze, whispering sweet nothings... Heaven. Besides, there's plenty of time to grow bolder together, sexually speaking. You're younger than him, you will, without a doubt, wake a monster in him. Embrace it.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— He doesn't talk much, it's just who he is. We've seen how awkward he is during interviews, I'm pretty sure his co-workers have confirmed that he isn't a yapper. Especially when he's drained for the day, he'd sit down next to you and quietly read while you're scrolling on your phone on a lazy day. I believe he'd be a great listener instead! Everything you say? He's committing to memory.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— Each time you went to his home you'd take notice of subtle changes that made it obvious he truly listened to you. Suddenly your favorite snacks are stacked up in his pantry. The blinds will be in your favorite color. Little stuff that shouldn't really matter that much, but they do.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— He's so fatherly that it isn't all that surprising how gladly he'll detangle and braid your hair for you after a long day. He'll be so focused, too! With his bottom lip or his tongue slightly sticking out a bit. Cute!

˙ . ꒷ ˙— He is experienced, and by that I don't necessarily mean in bed. He's used to being in long-term relationships, so he'll have a better understanding about how this dynamic would work. He knows which are his faults and he'd work on bettering himself. Despite popular belief, the fact that he's older doesn't make a relationship with him any simpler, he's only human. But Hayden is more than willing to navigate this with you.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— As an established relationship, dates would be thoughtful but not necessarily extravagant all the time. Dinners, Lana Del Rey concerts, hockey games, picnics, trips to the beach, coffee dates, making DIYs on a lazy Saturday, shopping, etc..

˙ . ꒷ ˙— You make him feel young again, but there are times where he's reminded of his age, maybe because you playfully called him an old man, or perhaps you used modern slang that he can't understand. Both of you are always learning from each other, it can be amusing and sometimes irritating.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— He's not active on social media, but you will show him TikToks, maybe some of the fanfics you read before dating him. Hayden would in return show you some old, not so funny memes or photos that he might find by chance. Bless his heart, he's trying to be relatable here!

˙ . ꒷ ˙— He will spoil you. Spoil you. And spoil you. Not only is he a gentleman, I feel like his fatherly ways would reflect on you too. He's a family oriented man, and you're one of the most important women of his life. He will buy you anything you want, especially if he knows it has something to do with your hobbies.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— Normally, Hayden isn't immature or prone to jealousy, but soon enough he'll learn that he's growing a little too possessive of you. He's not one to snap at people or paparazzi, but he'll be glaring in every single photo taken without permission when he's out with you. The pictures will also show him very quickly hiding you behind him.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— If you're pregnant, he will be so protective of you. You want to go down some stairs? He'll grab your hand and your waist. Oh we're going shopping? Sure, but take 10 minutes to sit down and rest, every two to three stores. You're craving a smoothie? He already has his wallet out, but don't order anything too sugary because he wants you healthy! Your feet hurt? Shoes off, he's giving you a massage!

˙ . ꒷ ˙— And since we're in the topic of pregnancy, I do believe this man would be almost illogically feral for you and your changing body. It's biology, baby! Pure instinct. Suddenly he's not so vanilla anymore.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— Cuddling.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— More cuddling.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— Even more cuddling, have you seen him? Duh. I'd cuddle with him.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— Be ready for the holidays, he celebrates them all! Be prepared to match ugly Christmas sweaters, and take cheesy family portraits.

˙ . ꒷ ˙— But most importantly, prepare yourself for being... loved. This man will be your home. Your safe space. He's the type of man you only find once, so hold him tight and never let go.

my fav Hayden Christensen acc is deactivated :((

Hii dear ❤️

I just love all your hayden christensen works so much.

I have a request where Reader plays padme's role and during all the shooting for the movie they fall in love with each other and eventually they get married and evan is also very protective of the reader and sees her as a younger sister. You can add scenes like the movie interviews or press tours.

I have searched for a fic with this idea for so long but haven't found one. 😔

Plz I would really be glad if you do a fic regarding this idea. It's also ok if you can't do it no pressure dear 😊

Love ❤️

Taker care

🎀YOU AS PADMÉ X HAYDEN CHRISTENSE: THE LOVE STORY🎀

synopsis: in the bustling backdrop of a New York casting call in 2000, you meet Hayden Christensen, an enigmatic young actor vying for the role of Anakin Skywalker. A shared screen test ignites an undeniable chemistry, blurring the line between performance and reality, and leaving you both with a lingering sense that this is only the beginning of something extraordinary.

words: 1.1k

warning: not based on real events, fluffy, hint of romance

a/n: hello there, I was SO hyped when I read your idea—it’s seriously brilliant and such a vibe! ✨ Honestly, I’m super honored you trusted me to write this with you 💖. IDK if you were thinking of a one-shot, but I was imagining turning this into a mini-fanfic (like 10 chapters or so?) to really explore all the phases of their relationship—the tension, the feelings, the growth, all of it 🫶.

I hope you love what I’ve written so far, and PLEASE feel free to share your comments or opinions—they’re totally welcome and super important to make this story the best it can be for everyone! 🥰

CHAPTER ONE: CASTING

The sun was beginning to dip behind the Manhattan skyline as you stretched in your chair for the hundredth time that day. You’d been at this since the early morning hours, reading the same lines over and over again with a rotating cast of hopeful actors vying for the role of Anakin Skywalker. George Lucas had been clear about what he was looking for—a young man who could embody Anakin’s volatile mix of rebellious passion and burgeoning darkness. But after dozens of auditions, no one had quite nailed it.

Some actors were technically good but lacked the raw, unpolished edge George wanted. Others had the right look but couldn’t summon the emotional depth required for the role. And as the hours wore on, your excitement for the project was slowly being drained away by the monotony of the casting process.

You exhaled heavily, flipping through the well-worn pages of the script in your hands, your mind wandering to thoughts of escaping the stifling audition room and stepping into the brisk New York air. That’s when you heard his name.

“Hayden Christensen.”

Your eyes snapped up as a young man walked into the room. Honey-blonde hair framed his face, and his quiet confidence filled the space effortlessly. He wasn’t overly polished like so many of the others. There was an air of authenticity about him, as though he didn’t need to try too hard to be noticed.

Your gaze lingered on him as the casting director pointed out where he should stand. He nodded, offering a small, polite smile to the room before taking his mark. There was no unnecessary bravado, no nervous fidgeting—just a focused calm that intrigued you instantly.

When he began his lines, it was as though the room shifted. His voice carried a raw vulnerability, his delivery perfectly balancing Anakin’s simmering anger with the aching, earnest desire for connection. It wasn’t just an audition; it was as if he was Anakin Skywalker.

For a moment, you forgot you were supposed to be evaluating him. His intensity drew you in, his words lingering in the air long after they were spoken. You found yourself leaning forward in your chair, captivated. It was the first time all day you’d felt the spark of something real, something electric.

“(Y/N), are you ready?”

Your name snapped you out of the trance. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, as one of the assistants handed you the pages for the scene. Your heart was racing, and you didn’t know why. All you knew was that you were about to step into that scene with him.

The moment you walked up to Hayden, he looked at you, and for a split second, the rest of the room seemed to disappear. His eyes, an arresting shade of blue, locked onto yours, and you felt a spark—like the ignition of a lightsaber. He smiled, a small, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, and suddenly, the world felt different.

When the scene began, your eyes darted to the script once or twice, double-checking your lines to ensure everything was perfect. But as the words fell from your lips and his presence seemed to pull you in, something shifted. The boundary between reality and performance blurred, and suddenly, you were no longer reading lines—you were living them. The emotions, the conflict, and the forbidden pull between your characters surged through you like a tidal wave.

“I can't. We can't. It's just not possible,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. It wasn’t just Padmé speaking; it was you, every syllable laced with an ache that felt startlingly real. Your heart, unbidden, protested against the logic of the line, just as hers would.

Hayden’s blue eyes locked onto yours, their intensity almost startling. They were so bright, so alive, but within them swirled a mix of hurt, longing, and something deeper—something that made the air between you feel impossibly charged. His voice was low, thick with a quiet desperation as he stepped closer. “Anything’s possible. Padmé, please listen…” His hand extended toward yours, trembling slightly, as though he couldn’t help but reach for you.

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. The warmth of his hand brushed yours, and an unfamiliar spark danced up your arm. Your fingers almost curled instinctively toward his before you pulled back, forcing yourself to remain in character.

“You listen,” you countered, your voice soft yet firm, filled with a mix of resignation and sorrow. “We live in a real world. Come back to it. You’re studying to become a Jedi Knight. I’m a Senator. If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, they will take us to a place we cannot go… regardless of the way we feel about each other.”

The words came effortlessly now, as though they belonged not just to Padmé but to you. And as you spoke them, you noticed the way Hayden’s expression shifted—how every ounce of his being seemed to pour into the scene. He didn’t just act. He felt. And in his eyes, you saw it too—a connection, an unspoken understanding that transcended the lines on the page.

With each passing moment, the distance between you closed, not just physically but emotionally, spiritually, as if this moment was fated—destined to unfold exactly this way. By the time you finished your last line, the silence in the room was almost deafening, the air charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

The sound of applause jolted you from the trance-like state, breaking the fragile spell that had wrapped itself around the two of you. You blinked, stepping back instinctively, though your chest still felt tight, your heart still racing. George Lucas and the rest of the team stood clapping, clearly thrilled by the chemistry that had just unfolded in front of them.

You forced a smile, stepping back farther to give Hayden the moment he deserved. He was speaking with George now, his body language a mix of excitement and relief. He was the chosen one. Everyone in the room knew it. He had just won the role of a lifetime.

Yet, even as you lingered in the background, trying to focus on the buzz of conversation around you, you felt it—him. His gaze. It burned softly, like sunlight warming your skin even when you weren’t looking. Over the shoulders of directors and producers, he stole glances your way, as if drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

And then there was you. A strange, unfamiliar feeling settled in your chest, making it harder to think clearly. You couldn’t quite place it—was it admiration? Excitement? Curiosity? It felt like all those things and more, tangled into a knot that you didn’t want to unravel just yet.

You didn’t know where this would lead, or why you felt so certain that this was only the beginning of something bigger. All you knew was that, somehow, you were eager to find out.

─── SO HIGH SCHOOL

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: As teenagers, you and Dean had a whirlwind romance before everything fell apart. Years later, you reunite—and it’s like high school all over again.

contents! mutual pining, teenage love, soft, flirting and touching, stupid in love dean, mdni 𖤐 18+

word count: 2.8k

𝒟ean masterlist !

Dean was the first and only real love you had.

Well, not exactly real. And maybe not exactly love.

He was the good part of your day. That person you knew would be there. The person who made school possible and tolerable.

Dean was always known for his charm, for his way with girls. For always having them. But the moment Dean joined your group of friends and you two became even remotely close, it was as if something, a connection, that you didn't know could exist, finally made itself present within you.

It wasn't something verbalized, something explicit. But as soon as you had your first kiss, there was no one else. No other girl in school had a chance with him. He wouldn't let you go, and much less took his eyes off you.

Everything felt so real. Even if it was just between the lines.

He was the best "relationship" you ever had. The best moments and the best treatment you had from a boy were with Dean Winchester.

And then just as it all began, suddenly he wasn't there anymore.

One night you two were together in the back seat of the car and the next morning he was gone from town, without any explanation.

And when you were seventeen, that was the last time you saw Dean.

You and Dean were sure you would never see each other again. You were teenagers, it was normal. People come and go from school all the time, it was common to meet people at school and then never see them again, never find out how they are.

This is what you and Dean thought things would be like. Just a memory that would fade in time. Never having to worry about looking each other in the eye again.

But when was anything ever simple in Dean Winchester's life?

A case never ended up being just a case.

The small town didn’t exactly scream "monster hotspot," but something was definitely off. Three people had vanished without a trace in the past two months, all last seen at the same place—a cozy little diner on Main Street that doubled as a bookstore. The place was old-school charming, the kind of spot with checkered floors, the scent of fresh coffee in the air, and a tiny bell over the door that jingled whenever a customer walked in. Nothing about it screamed "supernatural danger," but Dean had learned long ago that the worst things often hid in the most ordinary places.

“Alright, so we got three missing persons, no bodies, and a common location,” Sam said, flipping through his notes. “No signs of struggle, no EMF spikes, no sulfur. If it’s something supernatural, it’s keeping a low profile.”

Dean tapped his fingers against the Impala’s steering wheel, squinting at the diner across the street. “Or it’s just smart. Maybe a witch, maybe something we haven’t seen before.”

Sam sighed. “So, the usual—talk to employees, check out security footage, dig through lore?”

Dean smirked. “Aw, you're so smart, Sammy.”

With that, they climbed out of the car and crossed the street, the bell over the door announcing their arrival. The place was warm and inviting, filled with the quiet hum of conversation and the soft crackle of pages turning. Dean barely had time to take it all in before his gaze landed on someone behind the counter.

He recognized you instantly. There wouldn't be a day that he wouldn't.

You were busy jotting something down, focused on a customer, completely unaware of him—at first. Dean’s stomach tightened, his pulse kicking up. It had been years, but damn if you wasn’t still the same girl he remembered—just sharper, more grown-up, but still you. The girl who had once snuck out of your house to meet him, who had laughed against his lips under the Friday night stadium lights, who had looked at him like he was worth something—until he left without saying goodbye.

When you lifted your head, ready to serve the new customers, that’s when you saw him.

For a second, just a second, your eyes met, and he saw it: the flicker of recognition, the moment your heart probably dropped into your stomach the same way his had.

To this day, Dean always remembers the way you used to look at him. The sparkle in your eyes, the way they seemed to smile, emanating happiness and trust.

Just seeing you made him feel as if he were in high school again.

And now? Now you were standing behind the counter, your apron tied around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear, looking at him like you weren’t sure whether to punch him or pretend he didn’t exist.

Dean opened his mouth, but for once in his life, words failed him.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you finally muttered, eyes narrowing.

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, Dean—?"

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Sammy.” Dean snapped out of it, forcing a grin. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.”

"Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Winchester.” Your voice was calm, even, but there was an edge to it, a quiet challenge. "Guess life’s full of surprises."

Dean exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… guess it is."

Sam, ever the unfortunate third wheel, glanced between them and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, we’re actually here about the disappearances. We’re—"

"FBI?" you cut in, lifting a brow. "Do you want me to believe that you two are FBI?"

Dean had to bite back a smirk. Of course you weren’t buying their act. You had always been sharp. Always saw right through him.

Sam hesitated. "We just have a few questions."

You sighed, tapping your fingers against the counter before jerking your chin toward an empty booth in the corner. "Fine. Take a seat. I’ll be over in a minute."

Dean watched as you turned on your heel, disappearing into the back. Only when you were out of sight did he let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face.

“Well,” Sam muttered, “that wasn’t awkward at all.”

Dean ignored him, eyes still locked on the door you had just walked through.

Yeah. This case just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

Only to get better, when you return, you decided to act as if he didn't exist. There was no sign of recognition on your face. No lingering shock, no flicker of emotion. Just cool, effortless professionalism, like you didn’t just have the wind knocked out of you moments ago.

A notebook is in your hand now, the pen twirling between your fingers as you slide into the seat across from them. Your eyes flick briefly to Sam—acknowledging him first, like Dean isn’t even there.

“So,” you say, tone even. “What exactly do you want to know? If this is about the disappearances, let me say I don’t know much. Just that they all came in here before they went missing. We gave their names to the cops already”

Dean leaned in, arms folding as he tilted his head slightly. “You always this helpful, sweetheart?”

The nickname made your eye twitch—barely.

You finally, finally glanced at him, and for a second, all he could see was the fire behind your gaze.

“I try my best, agent.” Your lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Anything else?”

Sam cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you, clearly picking up on the weird energy but too polite, more like too damn confused, to say anything. “Uh—right. But anything else you might’ve noticed? Strange behavior? Anyone bothering them?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Not that I remember.”

Feeling that with all this tension he wasn't going to get anywhere, Sam decided to stop there. “Alright, I think that’s all we need for now, then. If you remember anything else, let us know.”

With a nod, you began to rise from your seat, your body moving almost instinctively as you embraced the end of the conversation. “Sure thing."

As Dean watched you walk back to the counter, he couldn't believe you acted as if he wasn’t even there. However, if you thought that was the end of it, you were mistaken. Now that Dean had found you again, he wasn’t planning to just walk away. Not this time.

“Dude,” Sam muttered, voice low, snapping Dean out of his reverie. “What the hell was that?”

Dean exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “It’s complicated.”

Sam frowned. “Yeah, no kidding. You gonna fill me in?”

Dean didn’t answer right away, just watched as you disappeared through the swinging door behind the counter.

He used to love watching you walk away. Now it just felt like he was losing you all over again.

After a beat, he pushed up from the booth. “I’ll be back.”

Sam sighed. “Dean—”

But Dean was already moving.

The back door of the diner led to a narrow hallway—one he knew you’d taken to get a breather. It was quieter back here, the hum of conversation fading into a dull murmur.

And sure enough, there you were.

Your hands braced on the edge of a small counter, eyes closed, breathing deep. He knew that look. Knew you were trying to steady yourself, get your walls up before he could knock them down.

Too late.

“Still not gonna look at me?”

Your shoulders tensed at his voice, but you didn’t turn. “What do you want, Dean?”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folding. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe a little acknowledgment? A hey, Dean, long time no see. Thought you were dead or in jail—”

“Wouldn’t have been surprised.”

Dean let out a sharp breath, a humorless smirk twitching at his lips. “Yeah, well. Didn’t end up that way.”

Silence.

You reached up, rubbing your temple, like talking to him was physically painful.

And hell, maybe it was.

After a beat, you finally turned to face him, arms crossing. Your eyes were sharp, guarded. But there was something else beneath it. Something raw.

“Why are you here, Dean?”

His chest ached at the way you said his name. Not like you used to—soft, familiar, like it meant something. Now it just sounded… tired.

“Job brought us here,” he said, keeping it simple.

You studied him, unconvinced. “And what? You thought, hey, let’s stop by and ruin her day while we’re at it?”

Dean huffed a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, because that’s what I wanted. To see you look at me like I’m a damn ghost.”

You flinched. It was quick—so quick he almost missed it. But he didn’t.

And suddenly, the fight drained out of you. Your gaze dropped for the first time since this whole thing started, fingers tightening against your sleeves.

Dean’s throat worked.

He could push. Could try to get you to really talk, break down that wall you were building brick by brick.

But the way you looked right now? Like you were holding yourself together with nothing but sheer will—

He couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

Instead, he exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Look. I don’t know how long we’ll be in town. But I think we’re gonna be crossing paths whether you like it or not.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t answer.

Dean nodded, stepping back. “Just… don’t pretend I was never here, alright?”

And with that, he walked away.

He didn’t see the way your jaw clenched, the way your fingers curled into fists like you were stopping yourself from reaching out—

Didn’t hear the breath you let out, shaky and uneven, as soon as he was gone.

You knew this wasn’t the end—couldn’t be. Deep down, you knew that your story with Dean Winchester was far from over. And you knew that the moment he decided to see you again, he would pull you close once more, weaving his way into your heart until you could never imagine leaving his side again.

Weeks passed.

Looking back, you weren’t sure when exactly everything shifted.

Maybe it was after Dean came back to the diner and made you listen while he told you the truth—even though at the time you were sure that the man you once loved was completely insane.

But maybe it was when you started helping with the case, and somewhat believing him—not because you wanted to be a hunter, but because you wanted to be with him.

Or maybe it was just inevitable. Like gravity pulling you back into his orbit, like you never really had a choice in the first place.

All you knew was that, suddenly, it felt like before—like sneaking out past curfew, like warm summer air and stolen kisses in the Impala, like every love song that made your chest ache.

Only now, you weren’t kids anymore.

And Dean Winchester had never been the kind of guy to love halfway.

Which was how you ended up here.

Sitting in a diner, trying to pretend like Dean’s hand wasn’t sliding up your thigh under the table.

Across from you, Sam exhaled sharply through his nose. His patience was wearing thin.

“Dude,” he gritted out, glaring at Dean. “Can you stop touching her for five seconds?”

Dean, the picture of innocence, took a sip of his coffee. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

Sam’s expression was pained.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, but when Dean leaned in—his lips brushing your ear when he definitely didn’t need to be that close—you swatted at his chest.

“Dean.”

“What?” He smirked, not even pretending to be sorry. “Just admiring my girl.”

Sam muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like I hate this.

But it only got worse from there.

Dean was relentless.

His hands were always on you—an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, palm resting low on your back. He kissed your temple absentmindedly, whispered things that made you flush, smirked when he caught you looking at him like you still had a teenage crush on Dean Winchester.

Because you did.

You always had.

Later, at Bobby’s, the three of you sprawled in the living room—Dean practically wrapped around you on the couch, arms snug around your waist, his breath warm against your neck.

Sam was across the room, doing some research on his laptop, eyes glued to the screen as if sheer focus could block out the absolute nonsense happening beside him.

Dean, completely unbothered, nosed at your temple. “You cold?”

You weren’t.

At all.

But you hummed innocently, just to see what he’d do.

Dean, ever the problem, tugged you closer, his hands sliding beneath the hem of your sweater, tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin.

You shivered.

He felt it.

And he smirked.

“You’re shameless,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip to repress a smile.

Dean nipped at your jaw. “Yeah?” His lips brushed your ear, and God, you felt it everywhere.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, meant just for you. “Wanna know somethin’?”

You swallowed. “What?”

Dean shifted, his mouth so close his breath fanned warm against your skin. “First time I saw you? When we were stupid teenagers?” His hands traced higher, fingers barely grazing the edge of your bra. “Damn near forgot how to breathe.”

Your stomach plummeted.

“Dean.”

“Mm?”

Your heart hammered, but you fought to keep your voice steady. “Sam is right there.”

Dean pulled back just enough to glance at his brother—who was clearly tuning you out, laser-focused on not acknowledging this entire situation.

“If he has a problem, he can get up and leave.”

You swatted at his chest, biting back a laugh, but when you turned to face him, his expression shifted—no teasing, no smugness. Just him, looking at you like he was seeing you all over again.

His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your chin up.

And just like that, you felt seventeen again.

God, what was it about him that made you feel like this?

That made you ache?

Dean’s lips parted, his gaze flickering down to your mouth.

Your breath caught.

He grinned—slow, lazy, devastating. “You gonna let me kiss you, sweetheart?”

You were sure your heartbeat was so loud.

Sam made a strangled noise in the background.

Dean groaned, dropping his head back against the couch. “Jesus Christ, Sammy, just leave the damn room.”

“I'm living here too,” Sam deadpanned, not directing his gaze towards you.

Dean huffed, shaking his head before turning back to you—his eyes darker now, filled with something deep and warm and completely unshakable.

You swallowed, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

This man knew what he wanted and, boy, he definitely got you.

But God, Dean Winchester was so much. And he had been from the start.

And you were so gone for him.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

lina's notes: I should have posted this a long time ago lol, but it didn't turn out exactly how I wanted and I was a little unsure but I hope you liked it <3

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