Dean - Enemy

You thought you finally found “the one.” Indeed, how wrong could you be?

You were living your life peacefully—well, not exactly peaceful, but at least you weren’t constantly running from the cops. And how did that happen? Well… let’s rewind.

It all began with desperation. Desperate to feel wanted, desperate after walking into prom alone and walking out the same way. It didn’t sting much at first, not until your crush decided to take your best friend instead, and the cherry on top? He called you a weirdo. Just like that—you lost the boy and the best friend. What a day.

So, you did what any broken, slightly foolish heart would do. You downloaded True Love App, hoping to stumble upon your happily-ever-after. And boom—Ross. Cute, charming, lawyer, the whole package. Gentleman. Flirty in the right ways. What could go wrong? Everything. Because you never actually met him.

Until tonight. Or so you thought.

You sat at the café, waiting. One hour late, Ross was nowhere in sight. Instead, the door chimed and in walked Dean. The last person you ever wanted to see. Your old neighbour. The nuisance of your high school life. The boy who had made it his life’s mission to prank you senseless. But… your eyes widened. The same Dean, yes—but taller, leaner, sharper. He had glowed up. Big time.

He spotted you. Your eyes locked. His grin was annoyingly familiar as he walked over and slid into the chair across from you.

“Hey…” he said, waving awkwardly.

He leaned in, mischief tugging at his lips. “So… what if I tell you something interesting… about your date, Ross?”

Dean looked a little guilty. “I might’ve… hurt him. Just a little. Maybe… to get to you.”

He raised his hands as if surrendering, then—like the absolute menace he was—stole your coffee and took a sip.

"I know what you might be thin—"

He didn’t finish. Because suddenly—chaos. Four cops stormed the café, guns drawn, shouts echoing. Customers screamed, cups shattered on the floor, chairs overturned. Bullets cracked against walls as Dean flipped the table, shielding you. He fought like someone who’d been doing this his whole life—dodging, striking, dragging you with him through the mess. The cops were saying something about, "Submit the gem to us," but you were too scared and frozen in place to hear more.

Then, silence. A frozen heartbeat. Before you could react, Dean’s hand clamped around your wrist, yanking you against him. The cold barrel of a gun pressed to your neck. His voice was low, dangerous.

“Stop shooting, or I harm her.”

The cops halted. Your pulse skyrocketed. You tried to pull away, but Dean leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“Bear with me. If you move—I will shoot.”

And then, the world blurred. He dragged you to the rooftop, thunder roaring, rain pelting both of you as he tied a rope to his belt and yours. The next second, you were airborne. Screaming, seeing your life flash in bursts of lightning—until he muffled you with his hand and the two of you crashed safely through an open floor window.

You shoved him, furious, soaked to the bone, demanding to go home. “What the hell is wrong with you?! I want to go home!”

Dean smirked, maddeningly calm, but there was an underlying understanding in it. “You saw my face. You saw me shoot. Which means…” He tilted his head. “I can’t let you go. So—I’m keeping you. I'll explain everything. I promise. And yea, Sorry in advance for… this.”

And before you could process, he injected you, and you blacked out.

When you woke, the world had changed. No bed, no room, no city skyline. Outside, the streets looked like monuments—like postcards. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance. You were in fucking France.

The scent of food pulled you up. In the kitchen, Dean stood barefoot, humming, flipping something in a pan. He glanced at you and grinned like a boy with stolen candy.

“Morning, babygirl,” he said, playful. “Let’s finish the dinner we missed yesterday… as breakfast, yeah?”

His chuckle echoed. And suddenly, you weren’t sure if you were a hostage… or the heroine of the wildest love story ever told. You looked down to see that your clothes were changed. Into a robe. Wait...did he!?