#just realized i said ryan for the ask what | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedroscurls · 2 months ago

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Absolutely no obligation to answer if you aren't taking requests, but could I ask for Hugh x reader? Like Blake and Ryan trying hard to play wingman for them both at an event, only to find out the two have been quietly together/hooking up for a few weeks? Whether it be angsty or fluffy is your choice! 🙂

our little secret (one-shot)

summary: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni) - unprotected p in v (creampie oops, be safe folks), fingering, oral - f receiving, hugh bends you over 🙂‍↕️, no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: i'm catching up to all the requests that have been sitting in my askbox, so thank you for waiting on this! i know you said it could be angsty or fluffy, but it actually instead became smutty lmao. i had a lot of fun writing this lol - love the sneaking around and eventually getting caught trope 🤭 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

The entire night, you and Hugh steal glances from across the room. Either he’s with Ryan or some other group of people that he’s talking to and you’re either with Blake or on the dance floor dancing with her. You can feel the pull you have towards Hugh, yearning to be pulled into his arms but you have to refrain. You have to resist.

No one knows that you’re seeing each other, that you’ve been secretly having a very intimate relationship with him. Neither of you are ready for everyone else to know, so you try to keep your distance. Try not to make it so obvious that you just want him.

“I think you and Hugh should go talk,” Blake grins, nudging you with her arm.

You shrug nonchalantly, doing your best to look uninterested. “I don’t know, Blake.”

“Just one conversation,” she says. “You never know what can happen.”

Oh, you know exactly what would happen. If you and Hugh get a chance to speak tonight, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide this secret any longer. Especially since the entire time so far, you’ve been trying to think of ways to sneak away from Blake and see Hugh. It’s such a busy event, such a huge party that even if you did try to sneak away with Hugh, someone would see the both of you.

And neither of you need that right now.

“If we somehow get to talking, then sure. Right now, I’m just focused on me.”

Blake narrows her eyes. “I can bring him over here and–”

“Blake,” you interrupt. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

Blake sighs. “Fine, okay. But if he comes up to you on his own, you’ll at least talk to him?”

“Sure. Would be rude of me to just leave if he tries to have a conversation with me,” you point out.

“Ryan and I just think you’d be so good together,” she replies.

“You think I’d be good with anyone,” you laugh.

“That’s because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Aw, Blake… It’s a bit early for all these compliments, don’t you think?” you tease.

Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re right. I usually need a couple of more drinks before I get to that point.”

“Okay, ha ha. Can we go back out there and dance?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go.” She takes your hand and leads you to the dancefloor, glancing over her shoulder to see Ryan and Hugh staring at the both of you.

—

“So…” Ryan smirks, watching the way Hugh’s eyes linger on your frame. “You obviously think she’s–”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling his eyes away from you. When Hugh saw you for the first time that night, he had realized just how difficult it would be to keep things a secret. You look so beautiful, the dress clinging to every curve, and he wanted nothing more than to just take you away from this party so that he could have you to himself.

But Hugh tries to remember the conversation you had with him. This has to be a secret for a little while longer, just to see if this is more than just physical attraction. Hugh agreed, but the more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to get to know you. The sex was amazing, but the conversations you had with each other afterwards were just as great.

“Oh come on!” Ryan chuckles. “You should at least talk to her.”

“Not interested,” Hugh lies. “Besides, I already talked to her at your dinner party. She’s nice, sweet, but that’s all it is.”

Ryan arches a brow. “Seemed like you two hit it off that night.”

“Just being polite,” Hugh replies.

“Well, I think you should go and talk to her. See what can happen.”

“Ryan, no.” His eyes deviate to you and he tries to keep his eyes above your shoulder, but he can’t help but let his eyes take in your frame, your hips swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the song. Clearing his throat, Hugh shakes his head and instead turns his back to the dancefloor.

“Let me be your wingman, Hugh,” he says excitedly. “All we gotta do is walk over there, dance a bit, and then–”

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.” Hugh interjects with a sigh. He knows if he stands here another minute that he’s going to break and he’s going to give in to Ryan because he wants you so badly. Even as he’s walking away from Ryan, he turns to look over his shoulder to see your eyes glued onto him. He gives you a subtle nod and steps outside, glancing around to see that no one but him is there.

With a sigh, he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. Hugh likes you a lot and he’s become tired of keeping this, keeping you a secret. His mind begins to drift when he feels a gentle hand on his back and he turns to look down at you, a smile immediately lining his lips.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say quietly.

Even under the moonlight, you look so beautiful. Hugh reaches out for your hand, yearning to pull you into him and give you a kiss. “You’re really killing me with that dress you got on.”

“You like?” you smile, twirling in front of him.

“Oh, I love it,” Hugh winks. “Would look better if it was on the floor.”

“Oh, you’re naughty tonight.” you let out a quiet giggle. “What would you do if I told you I wasn’t wearing any panties?”

Hugh’s eyes widen and his gaze darkens. “Are you?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nope.”

“And you’re calling me the naughty one,” Hugh whispers, taking a step closer to you as his other hand moves to your hip, bunching up your dress in a tight fist. “Ryan’s been trying to get me to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you ask quietly, hand moving up to rest on his chest. “Blake’s been doing the same. I think they’re trying to play matchmaker.”

“They don’t know we’ve been seeing each other for the last few weeks,” Hugh chuckles, eyes drifting to your lips. “But seeing you tonight… It’s been really difficult to keep this a secret.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I see how the other women are looking at you tonight and I can’t blame them.”

“Not looking at them though.”

“But if you want to, you know you can… We aren’t really exclusive and–”

“I want to be,” Hugh interrupts. “I know we’re still testing out the waters, seeing if this is only physical, but I like you.”

“You know, I didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight…” you say quietly.

“Am I misreading this?” Hugh sighs, pulling away from you but you pull him back to you.

“No, I like you too. I just didn’t–” you bite your lower lip. “I just didn’t want to scare you away if I told you that I want this. That I want you. Only you.”

Hugh tries to hide the smile from appearing on his lips. He looks into your eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“I do…”

Hugh then steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Good because I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your hand moves up to gently grip the lapel of his jacket. “Please,” you whisper. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night and–”

Hugh leans down and presses his lips against yours, hand gripping your hip. He wastes no time in moving his lips with yours, hand slowly dipping lower and lower to your backside. You gasp against his lips, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“Mmm, not yet,” you whisper, pulling away slowly.

Hugh’s about to lean in to give you another kiss when you both hear Blake and Ryan’s voices.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryan quips, finger pointing in your direction.

“And here we were, trying to get you two together!” Blake laughs.

You lean against Hugh whose arm still remains wrapped around you. “Surprise?”

Blake rolls her eyes playfully and walks up to you, pulling you into a hug. “Surprise indeed.”

Ryan grins, clapping a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “So, how long?”

“Since the night of your dinner party,” Hugh chuckles.

“You fucker,” Ryan laughs.

“We wanted to keep it a secret,” you say quietly, reaching out for Hugh’s hand. “But–”

“I like her a lot,” Hugh interrupts, lacing his hand with yours. “Didn’t want to hide this anymore.”

“We’re so happy for the both of you,” Blake smiles.

“Thanks, Blake.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I owe my girl a dance,” Hugh winks. He leads you back inside of the party and wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Blake and Ryan join the both of you and once on the dance floor, Hugh turns you around in his arms, hands moving to rest on your hips as your bodies begin to sway to the music. It’s dark and the music is blaring, but your sole focus is on Hugh who’s staring directly back at you.

He runs his hands along your sides and back down to your hips, bringing you flush against his front as you feel the length of manhood hardening beneath his pants. You bite your lower lip, arms coming up to snake around his shoulders and link at the base of his neck.

Hugh dips his head lower, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. He moves a hand to your lower back as the crowd of people surrounding the both of you fades into the background. He gently nips at your lower lip, hearing you quietly whimper. His lips move from your own to your jawline, coming up to gently nibble on your ear as he whispers huskily.

“I need you bad, baby.”

“But the party–”

“How about we leave early?” Hugh runs his hand up your back and down to rest above your backside.

“What about Blake and Ryan?”

Hugh looks over at the other couple who look to be in their own little world and he chuckles, turning his attention back to you. “I don’t think they’d mind one bit if we leave.”

You bite your lower lip and then nod, leaning up to peck his lips. “Take me home then, Hugh.”

“Yes,” he groans lowly. “I’ve been wanting to take you home the moment I saw you tonight. Let’s go.”

—

You don’t make it far once you and Hugh enter his place. He’s on you like a starved animal, hands running along your frame, lips lightly attacking your neck and shoulder. You can feel his length pressing into you from behind as he shrugs off his blazer.

“You make me crazy, baby,” Hugh growls, gently grazing the skin at your neck with his teeth. “Like a fucking teenager all over again.”

“Hugh, baby,” you whimper. “Wait, we should go upstairs and–”

“No,” he groans against you. “Right here.” Hugh bends you over the back of his large couch, immediately lifting the ends of your dress to your hips, giving him a clear view of your backside and your glistening slit. “You weren’t lying… no panties.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

Hugh glances up at you briefly before he drops to his knees in front of you. His large hands come up to spread your cheeks apart as he licks a strip along your sex, groaning against you.

“Hugh!” You exclaim, hand reaching back to curl into his hair.

“Mmm,” Hugh pulls back and looks at your sex, gaze darkening at the sight of you glistening for him. “Gonna have my taste now, baby.”

Before you could even answer, Hugh leans in and buries his face between your legs. He doesn’t bother to slow down, groaning against your sex as you feel his tongue in your most sensitive areas. You’re close, knowing that you aren’t going to last that long with the way Hugh’s going.

He pulls back momentarily, chin glistening with your arousal as he immediately slides two fingers into your tight heat. Hugh then leans back in and sucks your clit in time with pumping his fingers in and out of you and you’re so wet that the sounds mix in with your loud moans. It’s so lewd and obscene and it only spurs him on even further.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your walls begin to tremble. When you feel a tightness begin to build in the pit of your stomach, you grip his hair even tighter, holding him firmly against you. Your eyes clamp shut as Hugh continues his assault on you, urging you through your orgasm.

Hugh then pulls back and stands up between your legs, his hands coming to undo his belt and zipper of his pants. His fingers are wet with your slick and he lifts to his mouth and sucks on it as his eyes stare directly at your throbbing heat.

Once he pulls his manhood out, he gives it a few strokes before notching his tip at your entrance. He feels you flinch at the sudden touch, smirking to himself.

“Hugh, wait. I need a minute.” You tell him, trying to turn around but Hugh keeps you firmly bent over the couch.

“Ah baby, you can handle it.” He grins, running his tip along the length of your sex, catching your hole repeatedly.

“Hugh,” you plead, reaching back for him but he just grabs your wrists and places them firmly against your lower back. With his free hand, he slowly slides into your tight heat, the slickness of your arousal immediately coating his length with each thrust forward.

He releases his hold on manhood and instead moves to place it on the couch, gripping it tightly. Hugh fills you to the brim, groaning to himself at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him.

“See, told you,” he grins, pulling his hips back. Hugh pulls out to his tip, glancing down to see his length slick with your wetness. Then, he slowly slides back in and grips the couch even tighter, not wanting to leave any bruises on your wrists that remain firm in his grasp.

“Fuck!” You moan aloud. Your walls are already so sensitive and you know that you won’t last long with the way Hugh’s picking up his pace.

“God, you look good like this,” Hugh groans, thrusts moving faster as he repeatedly slams into you. You feel every inch, every throbbing vein and when he firmly slams into you, you move your ass back against him and feel the hair at his base provide the perfect friction against your clit.

He pulls back only enough to see you slide back into him, watching your ass shake and jiggle as you use him to reach yet another orgasm. Hugh knows that he’s getting closer, knows that he’s about to come but he tries to hold off because the sight of you using him like this for your own pleasure just turns him on even more.

“Baby,” Hugh groans. “I’m gonna come and I–”

“Inside,” you whimper.

Hugh feels a sudden rush overcome him at your confirmation and he releases his hold on your wrists to place both hands on your hips. He groans and begins to thrust back into you, his skin slapping loudly against yours as he chases his own release.

“Hugh, baby,” you moan, moving your own hands to rest over his as pleasure washes over you. Your body feels limp, feels like you can just fall asleep bent over this couch, but Hugh’s sharp thrusts work you through your own orgasm.

After a couple of thrusts, Hugh’s hips begin to stutter and you feel his warmth begin to fill you up. His grip on your hips tighten almost painfully as he empties himself into you, every last fucking drop.

When he pulls out, Hugh can’t help the sight of his release slowly begin to trickle out of you and down the inside of your leg. He smiles to himself, gently loosening his hold on you as he turns you around to face him.

“I don’t think I can walk upstairs,” you tease.

Hugh smirks proudly. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you yet, baby.”

—-

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #real person fic #real person fanfic #real person fiction #rpf #hugh jackman requests #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #story: our little secret

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 6 months ago

Text

Monster (Homelander)

Description: Y/N and Homelander are soulmates

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3,540k

They made eye contact for the first time and the colors started appearing for them both. Homelander waited his entire life for this moment and he couldn’t believe that his soulmate was his enemy. Y/N stared at him with a look of horror as she realized that the worst guy on the planet was her soulmate.

The others weren’t around luckily just them. They weren’t even in a fight she was spying on him at a rally that he was part of for Victoria. Y/N looked around at all the different colors of the universe that she could see and though she was amazed she was scared of who caused her to see these things. Homelander didn’t stop staring at her as he saw her look around. His stare wasn’t an evil one anymore. It was a curious one and a look of shock. Y/N saw that his eyes hadn't left her so she left.

She couldn’t tell a single soul about what she discovered. Not even her best friends who hated Homelander. The Boys was a group that was basically created to kill the man. And Y/N was all for it but she couldn’t believe that the guy she was supposed to kill was her soulmate. Y/N was in shock but hid it really well from the group. “So what did you see?” MM asked her as they ate lunch. Colors she thought but couldn’t say that.

“He was just there at the rally. They must be working together.” She left before she could get the real information but if MM knew then she was sure he would understand but she couldn’t tell anyone. Starlight came in moments later and smiled at Y/N. Starlight was going through it and Y/N felt for her a lot. But right now Y/N had her own issue to worry about.

Y/N had her own place but she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable sleeping there right now. Homelander would certainly find her especially after that. But maybe he would hate her as she hates him and not. She should have trusted her judgment because he did in fact find out where she lived. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asked with hatred. “You know why I’m here.” He says and looks around. “Yeah well maybe we should let it go.” He chuckled.

Ugh why did his chuckle make her feel funny. “Yeah right. That’s not gonna happen.” He said. She stared at him and shook her head, “It needs to.” She was right. They needed to ignore the fact that they were soulmates but that wasn’t easy. “I get it. You’re with Billy and you want me dead but doesn’t this change that?” Why did he want that to change? He should still hate her no matter what. “No.” She said and went to shut the door in his face but his foot stopped it. She groaned and opened the door. “What they don’t know can't hurt them.” he said.

She hated herself so much for the past few weeks. She was fucking the enemy and not just fucking him but falling in love with him. He was a monster and yet she still managed to see the good in him. Nobody knew what they were doing as he dressed in casual clothes to see her. When he was out and about in his uniform he was a different person. But in her home as he held her as she cuddled into his chest he was her soulmate and a damn good one too. “Ryan he uh he hates me.” He told her as they cuddled. Yeah I wonder why she thought but fought against saying that. “Why?” She asked, looking up at him. “I give him everything but yet he still cares for Butcher.” Hearing his name caused Y/N to mentally freak out. Billy would kill her if he knew what was going on.

“Billy cares about him.” She said. “Yeah but he’s about to die.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his words. That was shitty but she wasn’t surprised. She knew what Billy wanted and she was going to try to keep that promise she made to him. “Ryan’s a sweet kid.” She says and sits up. “Yeah but he needs to realize that we are stronger than humans and we matter and that Billy is just a dying vessel.” She looked at him with a glare. “Is that how you view me?” She asked.

Homelander would never spend the night at her place as it was too risky in case someone shows up at her house. That barely happened but the last thing Y/N wants is for the world to know that she was with him. They haven’t labeled anything yet and Y/N didn’t want to. She was ashamed and embarrassed so she never wanted to put a name to anything. Y/N watched on her computer screen as FireCracker talked about how bad of a person Starlight was. It made her very mad because Annie was not a bad person unlike the Seven.

This new bitch was also obsessed with Homelander which Y/N hated but would never admit it. Homelander told her all about it and how he finds it weird. Y/N agreed with him but for different reasons. How could someone be obsessed with him? He was terrible. Y/N was with Annie when she decided to almost kill FireCracker. Though she couldn’t blame her. The difference is Y/N would have killed her. But Y/N didn’t have powers so she was useless. That night Homelander came to her house in his suit covered in blood. She gasped at the sight and let him in making sure nobody saw.

“What the hell happened?” She asked as she turned on her shower. He told her all about it and some tears were shed. She had never seen this man cry before and it broke her heart. His childhood was terrible and it made sense why he was the way he was. “Well for once I think you did the right thing.” She told him as she washed the blood off him. She agreed that they deserved to die. “You think I did the right thing?” He asked. She nodded. That made him smile a little but she saw. “That’s the only right thing I think you’ve done.” She said and his smile fell. He almost forgot that they were on two different sides. “Do you agree with what Billy does?” He asked her. “Some of it.” She said. Billy had a right but she did think that there were times that he went too far. “Why did you join him?” He asked her.

She set down the rag and sighed, “Men like you are the reason. I understand Billy.” She said. He raised his eyebrows. The woman certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. “Why?” “You raped his wife and caused him hell. If you don’t see why he does what he does then you need to open your eyes.” She said. “Well you certainly love to speak your mind.” He groaned. “Yup and if you don’t like it then leave.” “Can we not talk about what I've done? I have my reason too.” She rolled her eyes and left him in her bathroom. He got up to follow her. “Why are you walking away from me?” “You aren’t a victim to Billy. What you did was wrong and Billy has a right to kill you.” She said.

“Do you want him to kill me?” He asked and she turned towards him. “You don’t want my honest answer.” He felt his heart break of course she didn’t care if he died or not. “Well he’s never going to.” He growled. She ignored him and opened the door for him. “I’m sorry those people did terrible things to you but that doesn’t excuse what you did and are doing.” She said and motioned for him to leave her home.

FireCracker was annoyed that Homelander wasn’t interested in her. She did everything for him and he just rolled his eyes anytime she was near him. She wanted to get to the bottom of it so she decided to stalk him. She knew he didn’t have a girlfriend or at least she didn’t think. But when she followed him to some random girl’s house she was met with a shocking truth. The girl looked familiar but she couldn’t figure out where from. She wasn’t a supe which was surprising because no ordinary woman deserved him.

She groaned as she saw the smile on his face as the woman let him in her house. The house was nice and she waited for them to go inside before investigating. Y/N sat on Homelander’s lap as she made out with him. His hands were placed on her hips and her hands placed on his chest. She’d never say this outloud but he was an amazing kisser. She pushed all her hateful thoughts towards him in the back of her mind. Her window was open but she nor Homelander heard FireCracker see them as they made out.

Homelander removed her shirt and threw it somewhere in the living room. FireCracker felt jealousy and she took a few pictures of them. She was going to find out who this was. Y/N pulled on his shirt signaling him to take it off. He did and she stared at his chest. She hated how hot he was. He smirked and pulled down her panties causing her to gasp as the cool air hit her wet pussy. “If you hate me so much how come you’re all wet for me?” He teased as he ran his fingers up her lips. She gasped at the feeling and he chuckled. “You’re so pretty.” He said and pulled her to her feet. She looked down at him as she was standing on her couch. He smirked and pulled her so her dripping pussy was in front of his face. He sniffed her and she nearly moaned at the sight. He pulled closer and licked her clit causing her to moan and grab his hair. He loved when she did that. Her other hand was placed on the couch to balance her as he ate her out.

His tongue felt like heaven and she enjoyed every second of him doing this to her. His hands were on her hips as he licked and sucked on her. Her moans were loud and pornographic. His name fell from her lips multiple times. Not Homelander but John. He hummed against her causing her to whine. Her high was close and he could feel it. “Cum all over my face love.” He said. She whined as she did. Her juices coating his face as her hips humped his face, riding out the pleasure. It was these moments that she couldn’t bring herself to care about who he was. He let her ride out her climax and ate up all her slick. She pulled away from sensitivity and looked down at him. His face was covered in her orgasm making her moan. She sat down on his lap with shaky legs. She cupped his face and kissed him tasting her juices on his lips and tongue. She licked the rest off his mouth. “I love you.” He whispered causing her eyes to widen.

The pictures of them were posted to the internet the day after causing it to trend that Homelander had a girlfriend. Y/N was unaware of the pics as she walked in to where The Boys met up and was faced with disapproving looks. She gave them a confused look and Kumiko pointed to the TV. She looked at gasped at the pictures. They were of her and Homelander at her place. She looked at the others who didn’t look pleased. “Get the fuck out.” MM growled. “Can I explain?” She asked. “What’s there to explain you fucking the enemy?” He asked. She looked down at the ground.

“It’s not what you think.” She whispered. “Whatever it is I don’t care get the fuck out.” He said. Without a word she left the building with tears in her eyes. She knew she should have told them then and there what it was but she couldn’t. She was so mad that it got exposed and wanted to know how but instead she drove to the Vought building. Tears streaming down her face she got out of the car and made it into the building. Weird looks were given to her but she didn’t care. She was mad and she had a feeling Homelander set her up. She entered the elevator and hit a number hoping that she hit the right one. Luckily she did and walked out of the elevator The Deep saw her and smirked.

“What’s a hot thing like you doing here?” He flirted. Ugh she wanted to puke. “Where’s Homelander?” She asked ignoring him. “You’re the girl he’s seeing… he’s in there.” He pointed to the meeting room and she stormed in there. Homelander turned around at the noise and almost smiled at the sight of her until she slapped him. “You dickhead!” She yelled. “Ow what was that for?” He asked, rubbing his face. “You really thought that I wouldn’t find out?” “Find out what?” “That you leaked those pictures!” “What pictures?” He asked. She laughed. “You are such a piece of shit! I can’t believe I was almost in love with you!” She yelled at him. His face softened at her words, “You love me?” He asked. “No, why would I? You’re an awful human being. I hate that you’re my soulmate and I wish Billy would kill you!” She yelled. His face dropped at her words.

“Now the world knows about us all because you and your fucking ego!” She yelled. “I didn’t leak any pictures of us you bitch!” He growled and grabbed her by her throat. He left her up like she was nothing and she began choking. “I have done nothing but be nice to you and this is how you treat me?” He asked, watching her struggle. She couldn’t say anything and he chuckled. He threw her to the ground and watched as she gasped for air. “You really think I'm happy that my soulmate is a pathetic, no good human like you?” He asked. She stared up at him with hatred in her eyes. “You are nothing to me. You are below me and not worthy of me.” He screamed at her. Her face didn’t change and she stood up. “You’re a monster.” She said and left. He watched her leave and pulled out his phone.

What pictures is she talking about? His name was trending but when was it not? Though the same pictures of him and her were trending and he didn’t understand how and why did she think he was behind this? The pictures were of them kissing and it showed both of their faces pretty well. There was no doubt that The Boys knew about it and probably kicked her out. He tried to find the source of the pictures but it was posted anonymously. He needed to find out who did this.

Y/N laid in her bed and cried for hours. She knew that it was a big mistake and she shouldn’t have let him into her home at all. He was a monster that she almost fell for. She hated herself and knew that her life was over and nothing good was to come. She had to get up and go get her things from MM. She wiped her eyes that were now sore from crying. She tried to make herself look like she wasn’t a hot mess and left her house. She pulled up to the building and sighed. She wasn’t sure she could do this but she had to.

She walked into the place with her head down. “I thought I told you to get the fuck out.” MM said to her. “I need to grab my things.” She said without looking at any of them. She packed up her things and felt eyes on her. She looked up and everyone was looking at her. “Why?” Frenchie asked. “Why do that?” She felt tears in her eyes again and she stopped packing. “The day of the rally that I went to and had to spy on him. We made eye contact and it was the first time I've ever made eye contact with him.

The world was no longer black and white for me.” She said. Annie covered her mouth and Hughie’s jaw dropped. “He’s your soulmate?” Annie asked and Y/N nodded now sobbing. Kumiko walked up and hugged her. She hugged her back and sobbed even harder. MM looked at her and sighed, “Why didn’t you tell us this?” “I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you guys hate me because of this.” “We don’t hate you.” Hughie said and Annie nodded. “He’s a monster and I hate myself for it everyday. He leaked those pictures. It’s like he planned this.” “He didn’t leak those pictures.” Hughie said.

She looked at him, “FireCracker did.” Her jaw dropped. “How do you know this?” She asked. “Well we wanted to know who leaked them and we traced the IP address and FireCracker did it.” Frenchie said. She couldn’t believe that she actually thought Homelander did that. She picked up her box of things and started walking to the door, “Thank you guys for everything. I’m sorry that all this happened and for what it’s worth. I want him to die.” She said. “Wait.” MM said. “I don’t really want you to leave.” She looked at him confused. “You’re family Y/N and this whole soulmate thing could help us.” She raised her eyebrow at his words.

Homelander glared daggers at FireCracker. He wasn’t a dumbass, he knew she did it and he wanted to laser her from where she stood. He hated what he said to Y/N and hated that she thought of him as a monster. Though a part of him knew it was true he still didn’t like the thought. He truly loved her and he knew she felt the same way about him but she tried to deny it. He had to fix things between them and if she truly wanted nothing to do with him. He would let her go.

She sat on her couch as the memory of what they said to each other played in her head. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way about him and that it was wrong but there’s a reason that he’s her soulmate. She was in love with him, she was in love with a monster and the more she tried to deny it the worse things got. A knock on her door ripped her from the memory and she got up. She opened the door and there he stood in the pouring rain. Her eyes widened and she expected him to laser her head off after what she said but he didn’t. “I didn’t release those pictures. It was FireCracker. I know you hate me and never want me to be in your life but I love you Y/N. I truly love you and I want more with you. You’re my soulmate for crying out loud. We are bound to be together. But if you truly hate me and think those things about me then tell me now and I will fly away from her and you won’t see me again. I’m willing to let you go if it means that you can be happy again.” She stared up at him as he told her that.

He looked like he meant every word. The rain poured on them as they stared at each other. He went to open his mouth again but she kissed him. It was like a scene from a movie. Her lips were on his and both of them felt complete. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. They didn’t care about the rain. The kiss lasted a long time before they pulled away. “I love you John.” She said and he smiled. For once in his life he smiled and it wasn’t fake. He picked her up causing her to let out a sound of shockness. She laughed as she carried her in her house out of the rain. He cupped her face and looked down at her lips. “My beautiful soulmate, the other half of me. The good half of me.” She smiled and cupped his face. “The bad half of me.” They both laughed. They kissed again but this time it led to something more and like the rest it was amazing but this time there was love in it.

After it was over the both laid in her bed fully naked and cuddled up together. The silence was nice and peaceful. She felt happy about this and went to kiss him again but her phone went off. She saw a message from Billy that said, “Sorry luv I don’t care that he’s your soulmate. He needs to die and I will kill you too if you get in the way.”

#the boys #the boys imagine #the boys amazon #the boys season 4 #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander smut #homelander x you #antony starr

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lover-of-mine · 7 months ago

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I've been thinking while chilling in the they cast Ryan with a plan delusionland, but specifically what it would take to give Buck the most satisfying love story possible. Because Buck was written as the love interest. His purpose in season 1 is to give something to the main character. And ever since, he's been there to provide something to his love interests even though he's the main character now, he gave Ali a place to stay, he gave Taylor professional advancement (and this one is made worse by her book), he gave Natalia inside information on death, so he's constantly providing things without getting anything substantial in return, much like with Abby and the way that he was just a device to make her feel better about her life. And the main thing here is that Buck is being pursued in order to offer something. He's never the one to go after them, he's the one being chased in a sense, Abby calls him, Ali calls him, Taylor kisses him, Natalia asks him out, Tommy kisses him, so these people want something from him and they take it, most of the time without giving him something in return, Abby forces him to get closure by himself, Ali leaves him because she can't handle the job, where do I even begin with Taylor. So if you think about it, considering the initial way Buck was written, and the way they expanded this to the point that he was literally born to offer something to someone who provided him with nothing (in this case his parents), or the way Maddie shows up because she needs the safety he could provide (I'm not saying Maddie doesn't provide him with anything, I know she does so much for him, but she did show up because she needed a place to hide) his main love interest needs to be someone who's not asking him for stuff. And that's been Eddie since he was introduced. Under Pressure is about Buck choosing Eddie. Eddie tries, but when he realizes Buck is serious about not liking him, he validates Buck's feelings, granted in his sassy way of his, and backs off until he has a chance to give Buck the choice to let him in. You can have my back any day. The phrasing of this is great for the whole Eddie trusts Buck to take care of him, he's not saying he will take care of Buck, he's giving Buck the option of taking care of him. But the thing there is that he puts the choice in Buck's hands. Buck could've walked away. Even Buck's reactions to the way Eddie says it shows a moment where Buck is considering before offering the or you can have mine. The metaphor surrounding the rescue in this context is interesting because while Eddie is choosing Buck right there, he's not forcing Buck to step in. Much like the ambulance, Eddie is offering himself, but he's not forcing anyone to go into the ambulance and risk getting blown up with him. Buck needs to volunteer. And he does.

I know the fandom loves to say Eddie baby trapped Buck, but Buck was the one who took one look at Eddie and said I'm stepping in with you whether you like it or not. Eddie never demanded anything from Buck beyond for Buck to be himself. He never asked for help with Chris, Buck chose to talk to Bobby to clear him being at the station, Buck chose to trick Eddie to offer him help in the form of Carla. Sure, when it's convenient for the plot, Eddie will just decide on things, but like, even the lawsuit of it all, when Eddie is inserting himself into the conflict, Buck is ready to be forced to provide Eddie with something to be forgiven "so whatever it takes for you to forgive me" but Eddie is instantly "I forgive you" because he doesn't need for Buck to prove himself. Over and over again, the show puts Eddie in a position that shows that he just loves Buck. No matter what. He never asked Buck to provide him with something. I think even the will and the way Eddie hides it plays into this. He doesn't want to ask for Buck to do this. Eddie knows Buck will do it, he knows how much Buck loves Chris, but the will reveal is not really about Eddie asking Buck to do something for him, taking care of Chris if he can't because the episode already showed Buck doing that without knowing that was what Eddie wanted, but to give Buck that shock that he does have something to live for, that he matters, that someone loves him. Eddie exists as the person that allows Buck to make his own decisions. He does push back when he thinks Buck needs that push but he doesn't make the choice for him. Even if Buck ever decides to walk away from him, he'll let him if that's what Buck really wants, because ultimately it will be Buck's choice and he respects that. And ultimately, with the archetype they had in mind when they created Buck, that is what Buck needs for him to be in the most satisfying romantic relationship narratively. Buck needs someone who loved him before they were in love with him. And that is the work they have been putting towards buddie since Eddie was introduced. And that's also why Buck is the one who needs to start his endgame relationship. It's never gonna feel right until Buck chooses to do something about it because everything about him is about someone else making the choice.

#just some thoughts #buddie thoughts #911 meta #kinda #911 #thoughts thoughts thoughts #buddie

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wolfsclothing6 · 2 months ago

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"Critical Change"

(If you guys have good pictures for the tf send them in and I'll pit them in and tag whos in them :p)

Matt was the kind of guy who didn’t get caught up in nerdy stuff. Tall, lean, and more focused on hitting the gym than hitting the books, he barely knew the difference between Dungeons & Dragons and Call of Duty. So, when his friend dragged him into a local gaming shop, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Come on, man,” his buddy Ryan said, pulling him toward a shelf stacked with game books, dice, and all sorts of nerdy shit. “I just need to grab a couple of things for the campaign this weekend.”

Matt sighed, glancing around the store at the rows of miniatures and colorful dice sets. His eyes landed on a display of D20s, sparkling under the fluorescent lights. He picked one up, an oversized, red die with gold numbers etched on it.

“Dude, what do you even do with this junk?” Matt asked, holding the die up to Ryan, who chuckled.

“You roll them. It’s like the cornerstone of every game. You know, a D20 is supposed to decide your fate.”

Matt snorted. “Yeah, sure. It’s just a die.”

He rolled it casually on the counter, watching as it landed on a natural 20. Ryan whistled. “That’s some serious luck, man. Too bad you’re not into this stuff.”

Matt shrugged and slipped the D20 into his pocket, figuring he’d keep it as a joke or maybe even toss it on his desk at home. As he followed Ryan around the shop, something strange began to stir in the back of his mind, but he brushed it off.

On the way out, he spotted a cheesy graphic tee hanging by the door—bright red with pixelated lettering that read “Roll for Initiative!” He scoffed, but for some reason, his hand reached out to touch the fabric.

“Classic nerd shirt,” he muttered to himself, but the moment his fingers brushed the cotton, a weird tingle ran up his arm. He shook it off and left the store with Ryan, unaware of the subtle changes already starting.

That night, Matt was sprawled out on his couch, scrolling through his phone when he absentmindedly reached into his pocket and pulled out the red D20. He rolled it on the coffee table again, watching it spin before landing on another 20.

“Lucky again,” he muttered, but something felt… off. His skin felt itchy, especially around his arms and chest. He rubbed at it, realizing with mild alarm that there was more hair there than he remembered. Shrugging it off as stress or a weird hormonal thing, Matt got up to check his fridge.

He grabbed a soda, but when he popped it open, the taste was all wrong. It wasn’t refreshing like usual—he craved something sweeter, heavier. He dug around in the back of his fridge and found a bottle of cheap, sugary cola he didn’t even remember buying. Before he could think about it, he downed half of it in one gulp, the sweetness spreading through him like fire.

“Man, I never drink this crap,” Matt muttered, but he kept chugging.

Later, as he sat back down, he felt heavier somehow—like his body was softer. His T-shirt felt a little snug, especially around his stomach. Frowning, Matt lifted the hem and blinked in surprise. His once-flat stomach was pushing out slightly, not huge but noticeable. His abs were disappearing under a small layer of fat.

“Must’ve been all that junk food last week,” he rationalized, but even as he said it, the memory felt… hazy. Had he been snacking more recently? He shook his head, dismissing the thought.

Over the next few days, the changes came faster. His once short, neat hair grew thicker and redder, especially around his beard. He wasn’t sure when the red streaks had started, but they were quickly overtaking his natural color. His face, too, was rounding out, his jawline softening beneath the scruffy beard that seemed to sprout overnight.

Matt’s clothes became tighter and tighter until he gave in and ordered a bunch of new shirts online. Oddly, he didn’t think twice about ordering them in a size two steps up from his usual. The designs were also different—nothing he’d normally wear. Instead of basic tees, they were all gamer crap, covered in pixel art and cheesy phrases like “Don’t hate the player, hate the game” or “Game Over!”

And it wasn’t just his clothes. His room was changing too, in subtle but strange ways. His sleek, minimalist desk was now cluttered with gaming consoles, controllers, and random dice. Posters of popular video game characters lined the walls, replacing the clean artwork he swore had been there before.

Matt was spending more and more time gaming, sinking into his chair with bags of chips and soda cans piling up around him. His body continued to change, his belly growing softer and rounder, love handles creeping in as he slouched deeper in his chair. His arms and chest were now covered in a thick pelt of red hair, matching the wild beard that framed his round face.

But the strangest part was how right it all felt. Every time Matt glanced at his reflection, he recognized the changes, but they didn’t bother him like they should. His old memories of being a fit gym bro started to fade, replaced with scenes of long gaming marathons, late-night pizza runs, and chatting with his online guild.

One evening, as Matt settled into his gaming chair with a satisfied grunt, he picked up the D20 again. He rolled it, and this time, it landed on a natural 1. He laughed—deep, hearty, and full of life. His once-lean body was now heavy and comfortable, his stomach stretching the fabric of his favorite shirt, the “Roll for Initiative!” graphic snug against his gut.

Matt couldn’t even remember the last time he’d set foot in a gym. Why would he? He had all the entertainment he needed right here, in his gaming setup. His friends were waiting for him to join the next campaign online, and he had a stash of snacks to last him the night.

As the game booted up, Matt adjusted himself in his chair, his thick thighs spreading wide, the sound of fabric shifting over hairy skin filling the room. His old life was gone—forgotten in the haze of dice rolls and endless gaming sessions. He wasn’t the old Matt anymore.

(@chubbycarebear for the pictures)

#transformation #pig tf #male transformation #fat belly #male tf #hairy #nerd tf #bear tf #WolfsClothingTFStory

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hereforthehitsbaby · 1 month ago

Note

prompt: hugh is your sugar daddy and he just bought you a new dress to wear at a movie premiere after party, but he cant resist wanting to take it off of you (also ur writings are fantastic 🩷)

Don’t I Look So Pretty? | Sugar Daddy!Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

Warnings: Sugar Daddy, Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Hugh is 56) Secretive Relationship, Heavy Make Out, Hugh is Touchy Feely, Mentions of Smut, Mentions of Divorce, Choking, Biting, Thigh Riding, Slight Pain Kink,

Rating: M – No Minors

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for being my first ever High request! I was on the fence about doing RPF but you know what? I cannot pass up Sugar Daddy Hugh like that! Also I 100% spaced on the fact that you said after party and just wrote the premiere. I hope that was okay!

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

How did you get so lucky? That was the age-old question in your mind. How did you go from working a 9-5 office job directly after getting your Masters, to now being a sugar baby? It still surprised you, knowing this was your life. A small studio apartment turned into a lavish penthouse. Your car that barely turned on anymore got upgraded to a brand-new Aston Martin; You’ve never driven it though – why would you if you have a private driver now? How you went from living and working independently to being a princess in less than a few months boggled your mind, but you wouldn’t trade it in for the world. You were happy, for the first time in a long time.

Meeting Hugh Jackman was luck of the draw. You never realized how close your old job was to his home in the city, nor to his favorite coffee shop downtown. That was your solace after long days and dreaded mornings; Extra strong coffee and a bagel was your go-to. Seeing him each time meant that your day was going to be okay, his tender smile and short but sweet conversations got you through your week. It first started off as your favorites being already paid for, not having to waste your own dime anymore. Then it was your parking lot fees being comped, gas being prepaid, food constantly being delivered – all the way up to your rent being paid in full for four months. That is when things took a turn, Hugh didn’t just chat you up to keep your company in the mornings, this time around he was setting terms. Falling into the roll of his sugar baby came so naturally, it was hard to know anything else. You felt bliss, complete happiness knowing you didn’t have to go back to your boring office job. You didn’t have to appease people who truly wanted to use you as a stepping stool for their own success, you could be free from the bullshit of it all. You never looked back, and you never would. Everything you needed was in front of you, and you wanted to keep it that way.

A year of being Hugh’s sugar baby was everything you wanted, and everything he needed. Though this was the first time he had ever asked you to come to a movie premiere with him. It was hush-hush, especially after the divorce he went through. Hugh didn’t take you on as his sugar baby for sexual reasons, but more for companionship. You both were lonely, seeking a connection and why not do it with someone who made you two feel comfortable. As time went on though, those fleeting touches and longing stares burned right through you. Ryan always said it was a match made; He could see through the charade. So here you sit in your closet, at your vanity getting your makeup done. Staring into the mirror while your personal glam team dolls you up, you reminisced about how things have been for the last year, how much happier you are, how deeply you fell in love with Hugh. Not that you’d ever admit it to him, what you had now was good. You didn’t want to ruin that.

“Alright gorgeous, you are set.” Your makeup artist smiled as your hair stylist finished up with the hairspray. Looking up into the mirror, you were taken aback by the image in front of you. You knew you were pretty, beautiful even but right now? You look ethereal. There was a glow on your face not even the makeup could cover up, the way your eyes shined like you were blissfully happy with life. You looked like a painting, nothing seemed real but a perfect portrait of a girl in love. Tears welled in the corner of your eyes as you took yourself in, gasping lowly as your makeup artist set his chin on your shoulder, smiling with you. “Those heart eyes are all you, babe. He’s going to drop to his knees when he sees you.” You couldn’t help but feel the heat creeping up your neck to fan over your cheeks, your body shivering at his words. “I hope, I really hope.” You smiled small into the mirror, heart hammering as you thought of Hugh.

Before you could even begin to silently ponder the reaction he would have to you, a line of giggles fluttered in from the open closet door, humming ensuing as the blonde bun came back in sight. “Special delivery for a special girl,” your hair stylist laughed as she held the box in her hands. You cocked a brow as you spun around in your chair, flicking a silent what in her direction before looking at her hands. An ivory box with a gentle purple ribbon tied in a bow sat in her palms, causing your heart to swell. Biting your glossed lip, you took the box slowly from her hands, seeing a little envelope with your name written out tucked beneath. As you placed the box on your lap, you reached out to run your fingers across the ink, feeling how your fingers shook with anticipation. Gently you grasped the corner of the envelope, opening the back with a quick flick of your finger before pulling the card out.

I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I saw this. I knew I needed to see you in it. Can’t wait to see my pretty girl tonight. Having you by my side is going to feel so right.

Yours, Hugh xx

If you had any doubts before, you knew now that no matter what, Hugh was going to be obsessed with you. It never crossed your mind that he was going to buy you a dress for tonight, much less get it wrapped and ready to go. Especially on such short notice, it was the little actions he did that made you love him even more. Holding the sweet note to your chest, you swooned softly as you let your free hand work the box open, seeing the pearlescent tissue paper covering your dress. Your hair stylist didn’t waste a moment to help you out, lifting the paper back so you could see what Hugh had picked. A deep sapphire blue dress, with little beads twisting to mimic vines across the bodice of the dress, all the way down well passed the hips. The sweetheart neckline perfectly complimented the sheer long sleeves that came down to your wrist.

As your makeup artist and hair stylist grabbed the dress out for you, holding it up, you noticed the deep slit up to the middle of your thigh, causing your breathing to become labored. It was stunning, truly a beauty you have never seen before. Hugh has bought you so many lavish pieces of jewelry, purses, dresses, but nothing ever so you. This didn’t feel like something perfectly curated to fit what you wanted, but something that you would’ve made yourself. Something you would’ve dreamed of wearing. The small notion that he saw this and thought of you made you want to cry – it was too sweet for you to begin. Quickly your makeup artist came over to fan your face, making sure no tears fell over his hard work. That simple action had you laughing away the emotion welling up within you, making it hard to overthink.

A couple face fanning and strategically helping you into the dress so your hair nor makeup go ruined, finally you were in your dress. It felt right against you, like truly it belonged to you, was curated for you, was meant to be for you only. Now as you stand in front of the full length mirror staring at yourself, you felt like you. The way the color complimented not just your figure, but your skin color was the best. You felt like a goddess, you felt like an angel on Earth. You felt powerful, enough to take down an entire empire. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you took a deep breath as you smiled, ready to show Hugh what he had really bought for you. Your glamour team rubbed your arm and back as you began to walk out of the closet, giving you that extra boost you may need.

Thankfully living with Hugh made it so much easier to surprise him, not having to walk down a grand staircase or even stand outside of the door. Simply you could walk out of the closet, into your bedroom, and right into the living room where he was standing. His back was facing you as his front faced the fireplace, a hand pressed against the mantle as his other nursed a glass of water. In this moment you didn’t have to say anything or move an inch. Hugh could feel that you were behind him, he could smell your perfume and instantly felt his body run hot. He longed for you, each and every day. Though you two weren’t intimate, it didn’t stop the deep connection you developed with each other. Having that emotional connection was perfect, even if a physical one didn’t happen. Being a sugar daddy was new to him too; Ryan told him not to fall in love but, with you he couldn’t help it.

Slowly Hugh turned around from his position, his eyes unfocused behind his glasses. From his fuzzy vision he could make out the color of your dress, and knew he wasn’t going to be able to handle this. As his vision came back into focus, Hugh sucked a breath in, eyes dilating at what he was seeing. Starting at your face, he let his eyes wander over your features, taking in your beauty from a few steps away. He was wondering how the hell he got so lucky, how he had the fortune of existing at the same time as you, you were everything to him. Slowly his eyes careened down to your neck, ghosting over your chest and down your front. Each flick of his gaze caused your body to grow warm, the slick between your thighs growing more and more. Once his eyes fell upon the generous slit in your dress, once emerald eyes turned obsidian. His facial features never moved, they stayed in their frozen state as his eyes flicked back to you, his mouth agape.

“Woah,” Hugh breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling, biting your lip as you slowly made your way to him. The strawberry vanilla lotion you had used wafted through his nostrils, mixed with your perfume made him feral. It was then you noticed how his tie matched the color of your dress, causing you to feel warm and fuzzy. The little details like that made it special for you, made this relationship feel not monetary – but real. “That bad, huh?” You snorted out, running your fingers down the collar of his blazer as your eyes remained on his. You could see there was something more brewing beneath his gaze, but he wasn’t showing – he was shutting it out for his own sake. Hugh laid his hands on your lips as he looked deep into your eyes, smiling like a man obsessed. “You look perfect. I knew this dress was made for you.”

Hearing him say that made your smile turn wide, leaning forth to give him a small kiss on the cheek as you let your breath waft over his ear. “Thank you for this, Hugh. That was too kind. You’re too sweet.” They were the best set of words you could string together; Under his stare this time around, you couldn’t think coherently. The energy between the two of you had shifted – once full of pink and purple lights now swam in dark reds and emerald. It was thick, not suffocating but held you both in. You felt your body pushing against his without even thinking about it, Hugh could feel it too. Bringing his hand up to caress your jaw, his eyes fell to your lips, enraptured by the color chosen to compliment the dress. “Anything for my baby. You ready?” He smiled, his eyes never leaving your mouth. Nodding against his hand, you moved your head slightly to the side as you kissed his palm, holding your other hand against his chest. “As I’ll ever be.”

That was all Hugh needed to hear to grab your hand, bringing the back up to his lips as he let his kiss linger. Taking your hand into his, you both made your way out to the town car with his driver, making your way to the premiere.

-----

Everything that you could’ve possibly thought a red carpet for a premiere could be, you got to experience. It was a blur of lights and yelling but it was magical. Seeing how the cast latched onto Hugh and his excellence made your heart grow fond. Seeing how many of his friends came out to support him warmed your insides. Tonight was about him and his amazing performance, to be tagging along with him to experience this was a dream come true. Though you didn’t want the full red-carpet experience; Seeing the plethora of lights and cameras shuttering made you feel lightheaded. Instead, you made your way over his Hugh’s assistant, falling right behind him in step as he made his way around to interviews with Hugh. This was your choice at the end of the day, Hugh was okay with what made you feel safe, but a part of him wishes he could’ve had you on the carpet with him, showing off his girl.

Everything flew by in the snap of your fingers, interviews and pictures were completely done with now as you two made it into the packed theater. The complimentary concessions stand was buzzing to life with all the celebrities wanting a snack, the chatter gradually got quieter as people started to make their way to their seats. You could feel your nerves on edge as you looked around. Hugh leaned closer to you as he laced his arm your waist, holding you to him as he ran his thumb over the dress. Turning your face up to look at him, you could see that his brows were pulled together. He looked upset, worried even as his eyes panned around the room. It was something you have never see Hugh do before, and you wondered what was the matter. “You okay, Hugh?” You asked as you held him close, placing your lips near his shoulder

Your words seemed to have broken him out of his internal thoughts, causing him to come back into reality. “Hm? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He chimed, leaning down to lay a kiss on your temple. It felt staged, artificial. Was he nervous about all the people? About bringing you along? Was he not wanting to see someone? Too many questions placated your mind as you tried to read Hugh’s expression. You could see a small glimmer of pain in his eyes as he searched the room, his breathing become harsh. Rubbing your hand along his lower back, you placed your hip against his, leaning as close as you possibly could so only he could hear you. “You sure? You look distracted.” You knew he was, and you were silently hoping he would tell you why, but alas he looked down at you with a blank stare, trying to mask how he was feeling. “I’m okay, my darling.”

Nodding up at Hugh, you gave him a small smile as you looked back at the crowd. It was then that you heard a small gasp of success from Hugh’s lips, not giving you time to ask what was going on. Hugh was a man on a mission, and wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. His hand wrapped to yours tightly, tugging you through the theater. As you pushed your way through the line Hugh had made for you, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his eagerness. Hugh wasn’t upset but he was excited for something, of which you could not tell. But the way he looked back at you made your skin alight in adoration, his eyes sparkling with something more than like. You felt your body run hot as he stared at you, pulling you closer. Rounding the corner near the theater entrances, Hugh noted the light blue door at the end of the hall, humming out as he started to sprint with you.

Gathering the skirt of your dress in your free hand, you made good pace with Hugh as he led you to the door. Pushing it open with ease, you were met with the brightly lit interior of the bathroom, causing you to squint slightly. The bright light threw you off your balance as Hugh fully pulled you into the bathroom, maneuvering your body while you tried to adjust to the light. As your eyes finally focused, you felt your back being pressed up against the bathroom door, locking it with a harsh click. Hugh had both of your wrists clasped into his hands, holding them strictly above your head. Your eyes went wide at the action, staring into his blackened ones, your breathing labored in comparison to his easy one. “Hugh! What-“ You yelped out, but were cut short by Hugh shaking his head. His salt and peppered beard ran over your cheek as he tucked his head down, his breath sliding across your neck. “Sshh, don’t talk. Don’t talk.”

You obeyed his command as you whimpered, letting your eyes fall closed naturally at the feeling of him pressed against you. Hugh pulled his head back from your neck as he stared down at you, bringing his left hand down to grab at your chin, pointing your face up towards him. You could see the feral nature wanting to slip out and play with you, wanting to add physical contact to your relationship. You could see how Hugh was fighting it back with each breath, the small line teetering the deeper you gazed. You didn’t want just an emotional connection anymore, you wanted to make good on your job of sugar baby, giving Hugh exactly what he needs. He could see that in your eyes as well, the conflict of whether it would be a good idea. Tonight was a night of firsts, why not add that to the menu? A slight whimper left Hugh’s mouth as you pressed your breasts to him, leaning forth to nip at his bottom lip. “Earlier you asked me if I was okay. I lied, I’m not okay.” He sounded as if he was in pain, causing a wave of arousal to slip through your lower lips.

You felt your mind going hazy at the lack of space you two had, adding to the tension you wanted to slice with a knife. “W-What’s up?” It came out more as a moan than a sincere question, and you felt Hugh’s reserve slipping away. A chuckle of arousal slipped from his parted lips as he slid his left hand from your chin, to your neck. The action itself made your body sing, your eyes rolling back as he pushed. He was holding you hard enough so you couldn’t move, but not hard enough to where you couldn’t breathe. Instead, his thumb and first finger found your pulse point, pushing down to restrict the blood flow to your head, making your sight go fuzzy. “Fuck it,” Hugh let out with a growl. There was not enough time to respond before he pressed his mouth to yours, invading your senses.

Time stopped in that moment, slowing down enough to fully take in this moment. The first kiss of your relationship with Hugh, something you two have been wanting so bad over the last year. The floodgates had broken in this moment, letting you two embark on this voyage of discovery. His lips slotting against yours like he was made for you, how your mouth formed perfectly to his. The simple flicks of your tongue against his ignited the fire from within, causing you to burn to ash and be born anew. You struggled against Hugh’s grasp, wanting nothing more than to hold him close to you, feel every ridge of his body under your palms, to feel his burning passion. As if he had read your mind, Hugh had let your hands go, deepening the kiss. A sultry moan slipped past your parted lips as he licked into your mouth, letting him swallow it down.

Your hands slid down as he released his grasp, finding purchase on his hips. Letting your left-hand maneuver upwards, you tangled your fingers into Hugh hair at the base of his neck, giving the roots a soft tug. A growl escapes his lips and pours into your mouth; His right hand working its way under the slit of your dress to hold your plush thigh. The tantalizing touch of his calloused fingers against your baren skin made you want to scream in pleasure, to let this man ravish you all across the world. Hugh pulled back, panting like an animal as he gripped at your neck tighter, his touch shaking. “I can’t stop thinking about stripping you out of this dress.” Hugh sounded like he was in pain, a primal sound you have never heard him make. He sounded like a man possessed, the only cure was to make you scream his name.

A moan slipped out of his mouth as his hand slipped between your legs, feeling how sopping your cunt was at making out with him. Feeling his fingers slide against your panties made your knees buckle. Hugh stuck his knee between your thighs to hold you up, burying his face into your neck. “God, I fucking need you baby. I can’t do this any longer.” Hearing his desperate he was for you made you feel powerful, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he ravishes your neck. Hugh’s lips latched on roughly to the skin of your throat, suckling against the sweet scent of you. His knee on the other hand, slid back and forth against you, letting your erect clit nudge the soft fabric. Everything was too much, every feeling was too much, yet you didn’t want any of it to stop.

Grinding yourself down against his thigh, Hugh took that as an opportunity to bite into your neck, not hard enough to break skin but enough to mark what’s his. That was enough to send you over the edge, digging your nails into the back of his neck as you tossed your head back against the door. Against your core thigh you could feel Hugh growing harder, silently begging to make him cum. The mere size of him shocked you, knowing he would give you a good stretch if you tried. Just the thought was enough to put you on edge, his words aiding in your arousal. “If I’m not inside of you in the next two seconds, I might pass out.” You couldn’t take it anymore, you were sweating like a bitch in heat. You needed Hugh, and needed him now. You needed to feel him inside of you, to mark you, show everyone that you are his. “Would you-“ You began, not able to finish as Hugh pulls his face back from your neck.

“Yes.” How quickly he responded made you laugh, which in turn caused Hugh to roughly press his knee against your clothed clit, sending a wave of arousal through your body. Never tearing your eyes away from his, you licked your glossed lips sensually, putting on your best innocent eyes you could muster as you spoke. “You didn’t let me-“ Hugh had heard enough to know what you meant, because he needed the exact same from you. Hugh brought his face up inches from yours, pecking your lips slightly as he groaned out, your hand gripping his erect cock through his slacks. “Would you like to go home and let me worship you? Yes, I would baby.”

-----

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @coowayeoo @craziersarah98 @tezooks @pedroscurls @logansbaby

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman rpf #rpf

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brodygold · 3 months ago

Text

Brocessed

It was supposed to be a regular Friday night, just us nerds crowded around the table, rolling dice and fighting imaginary dragons. Our group had been together for years—me, Scott, Joey, Derek, and our Dungeon Master, Eric. We had snacks, character sheets, and an epic campaign planned for the night. Nothing out of the ordinary, right?

Except when that knock came at the door.

“Who could that be?” I muttered, looking at the clock. None of us had ordered pizza, and it was almost 11 p.m. We all exchanged looks, and Eric, the tallest of us and thus unofficial “leader” of the group, got up to answer it.

Before he could even turn the knob, the door exploded open, and six guys stormed in. They were huge—like, NFL linebacker huge. All wearing golden jerseys with a crest I didn’t recognize, but I swear I’d seen before. They had an intimidating presence, like warriors marching into battle.

“Who—who are you?” Eric stammered, backing up as the tallest of them—a guy built like a truck—stepped inside.

“We’re the Golden Army,” the guy growled. “And you’re all about to be brocessed”

“What the hell?” Derek muttered, his glasses slipping down his nose as he looked for somewhere to hide. Joey was frozen in place, clutching his character sheet like it was a life preserver. Scott had already backed up against the wall, hands raised in surrender. And me? I couldn’t move. My heart pounded as if I’d rolled a nat-1 on a saving throw.

“Get the gear,” the leader of the Golden Army barked. One of the guys—a muscular dude with short black hair—opened a duffel bag and tossed something onto the table. Golden jerseys.

“What... what are you doing?” Scott’s voice cracked as the jerseys landed in front of us. They shimmered in the light, catching my eye with an almost hypnotic glow.

“You’re gonna suit up,” another one of them said, smirking. “Or we’ll make you.”

I felt a strange urge as I reached for the jersey in front of me. My mind screamed no, but my body acted on autopilot. I slipped off my button down and pulled the golden jersey over my head. The moment it touched my skin, I felt a jolt—like electricity coursing through my veins.

The room began to spin. My body... it didn’t feel like mine anymore. The tight fabric hugged my chest, arms, and stomach, and I realized I was growing. My muscles were expanding, filling out the jersey as if I had spent years in the gym. My scrawny arms were now thick and solid, and my legs... they bulged with muscle. I could feel power surging through me.

“What the... what’s happening?” I gasped, looking down at my arms in disbelief. My voice sounded deeper, more authoritative.

“You’re part of the Golden Army now,” the leader smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “We’re training for the championship.”

“Championship? What... sport?” Eric asked, his voice thick with confusion.

The leader smirked. “Football.”

I blinked. Football? I hadn’t played since high school, and even then, I was a benchwarmer for the JV team. I never even made it onto the field. But now, standing in this new body, it felt... right. Like I could take on anyone. Like I was born to play.

“I... I don’t know anything about football,” Joey muttered, but even as he said it, I could tell his hands itched to throw a pass. My body was already anticipating the rush of the game. My mind was trying to resist, but it was like the jersey was seeping into my thoughts. Changing me.

“You will,” the leader said, tossing us a football. “Golden Army doesn’t lose. The brocess make sure of that.”

The transformation wasn’t just physical. It was mental, too. As my body transformed, so did my mind. At first, it was subtle—just a heightened awareness of my surroundings, a sharper focus. But then, new thoughts and feelings began to flood in. I started thinking about football in ways I never had before. Plays, tactics, strategies—things I barely understood a few minutes ago suddenly made perfect sense.

The old me was fading away, and in his place, a new Ryan was emerging. This new version of me *knew* how to play football. I could picture myself on the field, reading defenses, making quick decisions, anticipating the moves of the other team. It felt as natural as breathing, like I had been doing it my whole life. The Golden Army had imprinted these skills and knowledge into my brain, reshaping my very identity.

I glanced around the room, watching as the same thing happened to my friends. Scott’s face, once sharp and angular, was now broader, his jawline square and strong. His glasses had been discarded, replaced by eyes that gleamed with a newfound confidence. He flexed his arms, grinning, clearly enjoying his new muscular form. His mind had changed too—I could see it in the way he held the football, like he already knew he was the leader on the field, our quarterback.

Joey, who had always been shy and soft-spoken, was now looking at his reflection in the window, grinning at the sight of his bulked-up body. His usual slouch was gone, replaced by a straight-backed stance that radiated self-assurance. His fingers twitched as if he was itching to catch a pass or make a play. He looked over at us and smirked, as if he had always been a part of this, always belonged here.

Derek, the smallest of us, was perhaps the most drastic transformation. He had gone from being the least athletic among us to one of the most intimidating. His shoulders had broadened, his neck thickened, and his arms were massive now, bulging with muscle that strained against the golden jersey. His usual timid expression was gone, replaced by a fierce determination. I could tell that the mental shift had been even stronger for him. The Derek I knew was quiet, bookish—but now, there was fire in his eyes. He looked ready to bulldoze through anyone in his way.

Even Eric, our Dungeon Master, was no longer the same. The intellectual intensity he’d always carried was still there, but it was tempered with an aggressive edge. His muscles were as big as the rest of ours, and I could see the gears turning in his head, already calculating plays and strategies for our new team.

And me... well, I was fully immersed in this new identity now. The Golden Army had done more than just change my body; they had rewired my brain. My old memories—of late nights rolling dice, debating over character stats—felt distant, like a dream fading in the morning light. In their place were new memories, new desires. The thrill of competition, the rush of adrenaline on the field, the camaraderie of my team—it all felt real, immediate, and, more importantly, right.

I could feel the old Ryan—the one who would rather hide behind a character sheet than step onto a field—slipping away. In his place was a new version of me. Someone who thrived on strength, speed, and competition. Someone who wanted to win, not just in a game of fantasy but in real life. The football field wasn’t just a new battlefield; it was where I belonged.

“Ready to crush it, man?” Scott asked, tossing the football to me.

I caught it effortlessly, my reflexes sharp, my hands steady. The old Ryan would’ve fumbled it, too shocked by everything that had just happened. But the new me? I was ready. I grinned, feeling a surge of confidence I had never known before.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice deeper and more assured. “Let’s go win this thing.”

We weren’t just a bunch of nerds anymore. We were the Golden Army. And there were more nerds waiting to be brocessed.

#golden army #thegoldenteam #football #male transformation #jockification #hypnotised #jock tf #male tf #nerd to jock

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kjupchurch-xx · 4 months ago

Text

Conflicted Feelings Part 8

Ryan was silent for a moment, as was I. Finally, I heard his voice. For once, he wasn't being the classic Ryan Reynolds, he was being the concerned friend, Ryan. "What do you mean you're not happy?" He asked, a bit confused by my admission.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, "I don't know. I just- I mean shit, I just had a part in the biggest film of my career. I'm getting calls from my agent to audition for major roles in upcoming films. This is just not the right time." I exhaled deeply as I thought about how my career would come to a screeching halt.

I heard him sigh over the phone, "The films will still be here. Probably not the ones you're being asked to audition for, but there will be more films. I'm guessing you haven't told him?"

I chuckled, "I literally just took a test before I called you."

I could hear him begin fake hyperventilating over the phone as he used an over-dramatic voice, "You mean...you mean...I'm the chosen one?" He asked, causing me to laugh.

"Goodbye, Ryan." I said jokingly.

He chuckled, "Just tell him. He loves Oscar and Ava, but I can promise you, he'll be stoked to have his first biological offspring."

With that, we ended our phone call as I continued pacing the NYC penthouse waiting for Hugh to return from his morning bike ride through the city. Being a mother was not exactly something I wanted. I love kids, sure but I love other people's children, especially when I can give them back once I'm tired of them. This would be different. Not to mention my career being halted, but the fucking media and Deb are going to have a fucking frenzy whenever this comes out.

20 minutes, or for me what seemed like an eternity had gone by. I heard the lock on the penthouse door turn, which meant Hugh had finally returned. He walked in and smiled at me as he approached me, quickly pecking my lips.

"Morning, Love. I didn't want to wake you." He said softly as he walked towards the kitchen to grab some water from the fridge.

I forced a smile, "Thank you." I said softly.

He gave me a curious glance, "Are you feeling any better?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I think I'm going to lay back down for a bit." I said as I turned towards the bedroom.

He gave me a half-smile as I turned, disappearing into the bedroom we shared. He knew something was up, but I was hoping he'd just pushed it off on the fact that I'd been feeling like shit. It had been 10-11 months since he showed up to my hotel room in LA to tell me that he and Deb had split up. We'd been having unprotected sex for months, I don't know why I was surprised to see a positive pregnancy test this morning.

As I laid in our bed, a million thoughts ran through my brain...How I'd tell him, how he'd react, how I'd react to his reaction. I was shaken from my thoughts as I heard him walk past me and walk into the master bath. He looked at himself in the mirror, brushing over his stubble with his fingertips. He glanced down, spotting something on the bathroom counter and stared at it for a moment.

Shit. I realized being in a panic when I saw the test, I must've forgotten to discard it before I called Ryan and spent 30 minutes pacing the fucking floor. I nervously bit my lip as I scratched my forearm anxiously, nervously awaiting his response to the small stick he was holding and had his gaze locked on. He looked up at me, eyes not completely wide, but they were definitely wider than usual.

"Are you..." He managed to say while looking at me to make sure what he was seeing was accurate.

I slowly nodded, it was all I could manage to do at this point in time. My words were completely failing me and even if they weren't, what the hell would I actually say? He sat the test down on the bathroom counter and quickly walked over to me, sitting in front of me on the bed. I could see his eyes glossy as if tears had begun forming in them.

"Baby, this is incredible." He said softly, with a trembling voice. I sat silent, which he quickly noticed, "Don't you think so, love?" He asked me softly.

I sighed, taking a deep breath, "I..." was all I could manage to choke out.

He grabbed my hand, interlocking it with his, "What's wrong, babe?" He asked softly, his expression a mix of worry and anxiety.

I shrugged, shaking my head slightly as I exhaled deeply, "I've worked so hard, busting my ass to pave a career for myself, Hugh." Tears were beginning to threaten to spill over my face, "I'm finally getting offers for major roles. My career is finally starting to blossom the way I'd always hoped it would...Now that's over for me."

He shook his head, pulling me into his arms, "Baby, no. Don't say that. Your career is not over, love. You may have to take a hiatus in a few months, but you can pick up right where you left off." He said reassuringly.

I nuzzled my head into his chest, sighing again, "It's been so hard to get where I'm at. I can't just come back months later and demand bigger films."

He chuckled as he ran his fingers through my hair, "Babe, I can always help with that. There are loads of MCU movies that always want lead roles for developing characters."

This was so easy for him. He had a massive career. He wouldn't be the one out of action due to a big pregnant belly. He didn't have to fight as hard as I did for a major role, spending years as an extra or a small role. I knew he was only trying to be supportive, but it was irritating me that he made this sound so easy to just get back into like I hadn't skipped a beat.

He rested his chin on top of my head, "You're not even the slightest bit happy about this, are you?..." He asked, barely above a whisper.

His voice was full of emotion and it broke my heart. He and Deb tried for biological children, which resulted in two miscarriages. That's when they adopted Oscar and Ava. He was no doubt their father, but I knew the feeling of having a child that shared his DNA and was biologically his, would be a big deal for him. I felt guilty for not being as ecstatic as he was.

I shook my head, "In a perfect world, this would be maybe the best thing that had ever happened to me." I said softly, "But I'm selfish and my career comes first..." I continued, almost instantly regretting the words that had left my mouth. I knew they were a low blow.

I heard him take a deep breath as I felt his body stiffen while the sound of him sniffling went through my ears. I looked up at him, seeing the heartbreak my words had caused him and I instantly felt two feet tall. The last thing I'd meant to ever do was to hurt him.

I sighed, "Honey, I love you. I'm sorry." I said softly as I caressed his cheek. "I'm just in shock." I shook my head as I huffed, "I know that once the shock of it passes, I'll feel differently. Right now, I'm just heartbroken."

He looked at me as he let himself give in to my hand on his cheek, nuzzling it. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I know that regardless of what happens with my career, I will love this child. I just have to... fully accept that things will be different." I said softly, still caressing his cheek. "Everything will be okay." I said as I kissed his forehead.

He gave me a small smile as he turned his head, placing a soft kiss on my palm that was still caressing his cheek, "I love you, gorgeous."

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bbrissonn · 8 months ago

Note

can you please write something for ryan leonard? could literally be about anything i just feel like that boy deserves more attention <3

i love ryry, he deserves more love. cute little freckle man

in which ryan's teammates cant leave the two of you alone in the library

under the cut !

"for fucks sake." ryan mumbled under his breath as he looked up from his book, only to be met with his friends sitting at the table of in front of yours.

"what's wrong, love?"

"they're here again. they're not even trying to be secretive anymore!" he scoffed as your eyes stayed glued to your work. you had a very important coming up, and you needed a good grade.

"just ignore them, babes. they're kids, let them be." you answered, leaning your head down on his shoulder as his eyes met with will's, who had wide smirk on his face.

"oh my god, what are you guys doing here?" gabe asked as they all got up and walked over to sit at your table. ryan let out a loud groan considering you were in a library as his friends made themselves comfortable.

"get out of here!" he spat at his teammates, making you chuckle a bit, but staying focused on your work.

"are we not allowed to study?" will asked, his smirk still present as ryan sent him a death glare.

"where're your books?"

"in my bag."

"take them out and study then. at another table." he said harshly, making all his friends laugh a bit.

"what if we want to sit at this table?" jacob asked, ryan rolling his eyes. your boyfriend looked over at you, begging you to tell the guys to leave, but you were too focused on your book to realize the look he was sending you.

"it's a library, be quiet." ryan warned the guys before looking back down at his work. your head was still leaning on his shoulder, making gabe snap a pic of the two of you. of course, the boy hadn't realized his flash was still on, making it blankly obvious what he was up to.

"get out!"

"what, why?"

"you're not here to study, you're here to bother us. so leave!"

"it was an accident!"

"can you guys go bicker somewhere else? i'm trying to study." you whispered harshly, making all the boys go quiet as they stared at you. you had finally looked up from your book, now sending ryan's friends a death glare that matched your boyfriend's. "all of you." you added, turning your head to look at ryan.

"me?" he gasped, his jaw dropping slightly.

"yes, you. you're the reason these ding dongs keep bothering me, so get out." you sassed, making ryan roll his eyes slightly before he started packing his bag.

"you guys are such assholes." your boyfriend mumbled as he got up from his seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead before making his way out. his friends followed closely, rambling about something that clearly wasn't making ryan happy.

lovey 🤍

give your side pieces some attention

i'll see you tonight loves <3

ryry 💗

i hate them, they're so mean

i miss you

come cuddle me

lovey 🤍

i'll be there in an hour max

love you

ryry 💗

love youuuu

#bri writes #ryan leonard #ryan leonard imagine #ryan leonard x reader #ryan leonard fluff #ryan leonard blurb #boston college hockey #will smith hockey #gabe perreault #jacob fowler

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justanotherescapism · 5 months ago

Text

After all this time

Homelander x Super!Fem!Reader

Word count: 684

Spoilers for season 4

“C’mon dig in before it melts.” Homelander put the ice cream cake down on the table. He laughed, everyone around him was silent. Their eyes flicked back between the cake and the supe. They were shocked to see him, he hadn’t been back since he first left, they had hidden behind the safety of it. He walked around the lab, pointing and laughing with nostalgia. He may not like to think about it but he remembers every moment from his childhood. It was why he had to return today.

“You know what day it is today?” He looked around, no-one spoke up. “Today is the day when you sent her away.”

“Joh-”

“Homelander.” He sneered. “Call me Homelander.”

“Homelander, you know why we had to send her away,” Marty tried to reason.

“Yeah, you said. You told me over and over again. But let me hear you say it, one more time.” Marty looked to his other colleagues, scared of what he had to say and how he would react.

“She was a distraction.” Marty looked down, avoiding Homelander’s steel eyes.

“Yes, a distraction, from what? The pain? The suffering? Yes, I guess she was.”

“Homelander, sh-”

“Oh don’t worry, I get it. I do.”

He looked at the rooms at the back of the lab. They weren’t allowed to be in the same room but they both had super hearing so they talked through the walls. Something had grown from that, something that even now Homelander craved. He thought he could get it from Vought but the company did nothing for him anymore. His son came closest, but he didn’t understand, Homelander suffered in a way Ryan couldn’t understand. When he looked at the rooms, he realized her door was closed. The tiny window was covered. He walked across to the door, his manic mood shifting.

“Homelan-”

“Shut up, Marty.” He chuckled but gritted his teeth, staring at Marty, who looked terrified. Homelander grabbed the handle on the door, pulling it slowly. Inside was just how he remembered. The walls were stark white brick, the floor a cold concrete with no room for comfort. It was no bigger than a broom cupboard.

But on the floor was a figure he recongised instantly. She was still here.

“John?”

“You’re here.” He quickly dropped to her side. She looked healthy - super healing and all - but her eyes were hollow, how long has she been down here?

“After all this time, you came back.” She weakly smiled at him, tears flooding her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He dropped to his knees beside her, wrapping his arms around her. She hugged him back. He looked different but the same. She could still see the pain behind his eyes that others so easily missed. Tears fell from her eyes, as he shuddered, both in pain and excited.

“Why?” He asked this not really knowing what the answer would be. He couldn’t understand why they’d keep her down here all these years, and lie to him about it.

“Finding a way to destroy you. A safety protocol.” She fell more into his arms, her strength waning. Homelander’s jaw clenched. To find a way to destroy him, they needed to destroy her first. Torture for years and years.

“I’m going to destroy them.”

“Make it painful.”

All she could hear was screaming and the sound of Homelander’s laser eyes. She smiled, she always knew some day he would come back, even if it took everything in her not to give up. All of them would die and she’d leave with the man she had loved since she was a child.

“They’re dead. We can leave now.” He looked down at her. He was covered in blood from the people who had tortured them. She smiled, tears falling down her face. When she stood, she fell into his arms, hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, just as tight. The hole he had was filling and he felt her look up at him.

They got into the elevator, holding hands. She shut her eyes, waiting to feel the sun on her face.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #the boys #homelander x you #homelander the boys #the boys season 4 #the boys s4 #homelander x oc #the boys prime #homelander x y/n

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winchestersisterimaginessss · 19 days ago

Text

Heeeeeeeelloooooo, you write so well, I'm not even joking, you're one of my favorite ones on this app, I know you would write about the sister being stalked by a man/boy. I don't know how that would happen, I guess in one of the hunts she meets him and it's cute until they leave town and she keeps getting gifts and letters from the boy and Sam and dean think it's weird and she starts to get scared when she realizes he's stalking her, the gifts and letters get too personal and too much and they think it's better if they just go to the bunker, but somehow he gets inside the bunker and hides, and they only realize when in one night she wakes up and he's watching her and she just screams and freezes, what happens next, I'm sure it will be amazing, lots of love

A/N: OMG I THINK I WROTE A NOVEL?!? I just couldn’t stop writing and the next thing I knew it was like a million words long. I wanted this to be so in detail and so deep. There was just so much trauma to be written over so I made sure to capture every single emotion. I hope you guys liked this, Requests are still open!

Warnings: Stalker, Roofied, Sexual harassment, Sexual assault (kinda), cursing, violence

You and your brothers just had a successful hunt and were celebrating at the local bar in town.

“Here Y/N/N.” Sam said and handed you a shot. “Now this is great way to start off the night.” You smirked, motioning to the shot.

“Alright easy there tiger.” Dean said, sending you a disapproving look.

“I am 21 now Dean.” You reminded him.

“Alright you just turned 21.” He sighed, concerned about this new milestone you’ve hit and wanting to keep you as safe as possible.

“Still 21.” You sassed before you downed the shot and slammed the glass down on the table.

“That felt good!” You grinned at your brothers as a guy walked past you.

“Come play a game of pool with me.” He said flirtatiously and winked before making his way towards the pool table.

“I could use some fun.” You beamed, knowing pool was your favorite.

“I know you wanna have fun, but keep your guard up and be careful.” Sam warned as Dean glared at the back of the guy.

“Yeah tell him no funny business.” Dean huffed.

“He asked me to play a game of pool not go home with him.” You pointed out sarcastically.

“Yeah well if he did that then he’d already be dead.” Dean growled.

“Alrighty then. Another round of shots for Deano!” You said shooting Sam a look as you walked away. You heard Dean’s grumble behind you, but you were already past it. It was just a game of pool. When you reached the table, the guy was already waiting there for you. He was tall, with dark hair and a confident smile.

“I’m Ryan.” He said, introducing himself and handing you a pool stick.

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled, taking the stick from him.

“You’re beautiful Y/N.” He smirked which immediately made you blush.

“Why thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.” You said playfully and turned your attention to the pool table. You grabbed the cue ball with a practiced hand.

“I’ll take the first shot, you know ladies first and all.” You grinned, eyeing the balls on the table.

“I have a feeling you might beat me.” He chuckled, looking towards the pool table.

“I have a feeling that you might be right.” You smirked, lining up your break shot.

You were halfway through your fourth game with Ryan, your competitive streak still going strong. He had joked around and said that you couldn’t leave without him beating you at least once. As you were about to take your next shot, you suddenly caught Dean’s eye from across the bar.

“We gotta go.” He mouthed and made a wrap it up motion with his finger. You nodded and turned your attention back to Ryan.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go now.” You sighed and placed your pool stick on the table. Ryan’s demeanor changed instantly. His body language that shifted from playful to dark didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“You’re not allowed to go.” He said, his voice low and unsettling. He took a step towards you and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” You chuckled nervously, trying to keep the situation light, but your hunter instincts were screaming at you to move.

“I’m not letting you leave.” He repeated, now too close for comfort. Your body went into high alert, and you began to slowly back away, but the wall behind you stopped you. The look of panic must have been clear on your face because something in Ryan snapped, and his expression softened into a smile, like nothing had happened.

“I never got my win!” He laughed, his voice going back to its charming tone. You exhaled and forced a smile.

“Oh yeah! I mean technically this is your win since I have to forfeit.” You said.

“I guess that will have to do.” He smiled before it faltered and he clenched his jaw. You stood there awkwardly trying to find a way out of the conversation.

“Okay uh yeah I should get going then.” You said.

“Bye Y/N. I hope to see you again.” He said.

“Yeah, nice meeting you. Bye!” You forced another smile, spinning around to walk back towards your brothers. But as soon as you turned away, your smile faltered, replaced by a deep furrow of your brows. Something about that interaction just didn’t sit right. Dean didn’t miss a beat. As soon as you reached him, his sharp eyes were on you.

“Everything okay?” He asked, his voice low.

“Uh…” You hesitated, instinctively glancing at Ryan. It was a fleeting look, but Dean caught it—his eyes narrowed immediately. He followed your gaze toward Ryan and then back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” You rushed to say.

“You sure?” His tone had shifted, no longer casual. His gaze moved back to Ryan, now squinting in suspicion.

“Yes,” you squeaked, your fingers tugging anxiously at your sleeve, betraying your nerves.

Dean's eyes flicked down to your fidgeting hands, and he exhaled slowly.

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe you, kid.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to explain.

“He just... something felt off at the end.” You said.

Dean’s expression softened, his voice quiet, but serious.

“Alright, kiddo. I’ve got your back.” He stepped closer, scanning the room.

“Do you need me to step in?” His eyes turned hard again, like steel, thinking about someone making his baby sister uncomfortable.

The last thing you wanted was for Dean to escalate the situation further. Ryan had seemed harmless enough. You were just in your head about it all.

“No, no, I think I’m just being overly cautious,” you said, lowering your voice, feeling the weight of embarrassment settle in. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Hey, trust your gut. If something feels off, it probably is.” Dean said, his voice softer now, though there was still an edge to it. You nodded, looking around the bar. Ryan had disappeared—gone without a trace.

“Well, looks like he left anyway.” You sighed.

“Yeah and we’re out of here once Sam gets back from the bathroom,” Dean replied. Just as he spoke, Sam emerged, heading straight for you.

“Alright, you ready to head out?” Sam asked, looking at you with a raised brow.

You nodded and the three of you walked out of the bar together.

————

It was a couple days later and you were only about 30 minutes away from the last town because you’d caught wind of another hunt. You woke up abruptly to a knock on the motel door. You noticed your brothers weren’t in the room so you peaked out of the peephole. You couldn’t see anyone so you quickly grabbed your gun. Carefully, you opened the door and saw a white bag on the ground. You picked it up with confusion and saw there was a banana nut muffin in the bag. Your absolute favorite muffin.

“What the hell?” You said to yourself. Where did this come from? Who dropped this off? Where were your brothers? You looked around, but didn’t notice anyone. You turned back into the room and shut the door. You placed the bag on the table and grabbed your phone.

‘Hey did you guys get me a muffin?’ You texted your brothers.

‘What?’ Dean replied.

‘No why? Do you want us to grab you one from somewhere on our way back?’ Sam texted.

‘Where are you guys?’ You texted

’Dropped Sam off at the library a little bit ago and I’m about finished checking out the scene.’ Dean replied.

‘We didn’t want to wake you up, you needed to catch up on your sleep.” Sam replied.

‘Someone knocked on the door, but when I opened the door no one was there. I looked down and there was a banana nut muffin in a bag.’ You texted.

‘That wasn’t us. Don’t eat it.’ Dean warned. You huffed out loud, feeling your hunger gnawing at you.

“Ugh you know it’s my favorite muffin though and now I want one😫’ You replied.

‘That’s weird, don’t eat it. We’ll stop and get you a muffin from somewhere on the way back.’ Sam texted.

‘A banana nut muffin?’ You questioned.

‘Yes, a banana nut muffin, you freak. Again, who eats banana nut muffins?!’ Dean replied.

‘Uh me and whoever this muffin was supposed to go to.” You responded.

‘Have a chocolate chip muffin like a normal person.’ Dean texted.

‘You know those are my second favorites!’ You replied.

‘You’ll get your muffin.’ Sam texted. You flopped onto the bed and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Stuck in your own thoughts you suddenly remembered that you told Ryan that banana nut muffins were your favorite muffin. A weird sinking feeling overcame you and you suddenly felt like you were being watched. You quickly shook the feeling off.

“I’m in my own head, I’m just paranoid.” You said out loud trying to convince yourself, needing to hear it to believe it.

“Perks of being a hunter I guess.” You sighed and grabbed your stuff to take a shower. You needed to get ready for the day especially because you were already running behind and your brothers were already out without you. You showered and got dressed. As you walked out of the bathroom, the motel door opened and your brothers walked in.

“Hey kiddo, Sam has your muffin.” Dean said.

“A banana nut muffin!?” You asked, excitingly.

“Yeah, that one.” Dean said and pretended to gag. He threw his bag down on the floor as Sam walked in behind him.

“Where’s the other muffin?” Sam asked as he handed you the bakery bag.

“Yum thank you!” You grinned and then pointed to the table where the other muffin was. You bit into your muffin as Sam walked over to where the other one was. He picked it up and looked inside the bag.

“Looks like a normal muffin.” Sam shrugged, looking towards Dean.

“Does that mean I can have that one later?” You asked with a mouth full of your muffin.

“No.” Both of your brothers responded at the same time.

“Okay fair enough.” You mumbled, swallowing your bite.

“You know what’s weird?” You asked, still trying to piece everything together.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I told Ryan that banana nut muffins were my favorite.” You trailed off, waiting for your brothers to dismiss your paranoia.

“Really? Huh.” Sam replied, processing the coincidence.

“Yeah, but it couldn’t have been him right? I’m just being paranoid.” You chuckled nervously, glancing towards your brothers in hopes of seeing a slight humor on their face, but you were met with looks of concern instead. When Dean noticed your face drop, he spoke up.

“Yeah kiddo, just a weird coincidence.” He said and sent you a quick smile. He didn’t want you to worry.

“Yeah okay that’s what I thought.” You said softly and sat down at the table to finish your muffin. As soon as you turned away, your brothers glanced at each other with concern, knowing that they stumbled into Ryan, in the town, earlier that morning. Sam walked over to the mystery muffin and immediately chucked it into the trash.

Weird things continued to show up at the motel door like flowers and little items. Each time there was never anyone around. Your brothers started to get concerned and you began to grow even more paranoid. The three of you had figured once the hunt was over and you were out of dodge, the weird things would stop happening. So the morning you were leaving town, you packed the car up with relief. You had about a 12 hour road trip ahead and you were going to stop halfway through and find a motel to stay at. You settled into the Impala for the long drive ahead, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was still watching.

“Let’s find a bar tonight.” You said, trying to push the unease aside.

“Fine by me, I’ve gotta look forward to something at the end of this drive.” Dean smirked. After hours on the road, the three of you finally made it to a small, quiet town. You grabbed some food, checked into a dingy motel, and after making sure everything was settled for the night, the idea of unwinding with a drink at the local bar felt like a godsend.

“Finally.” You grinned as the bartender handed out the round of shots. You threw it back and asked for a drink before Sam and Dean even grabbed theirs. Your drink was placed down at the same time the sound of yelling and shuffling caught your attention. You turned toward the bar, eyes narrowing in amusement at the chaos. The sudden noise was enough to draw everyone's focus away from their drinks, and you were no exception. The fight only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was just enough time for someone to slip something into your drink when you weren’t looking.

“Well that was good entertainment.” Dean said before standing up.

“I’m going to go find some more.” He smirked and walked away from the bar. You were still riding the buzz from the shots you’d downed, so you decided to let your drink sit for a little longer as you continued chatting with Sam.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.” Sam said, standing up. You nodded, watching him head off in the direction of the restroom. Left alone, you absently picked up your drink and took a big sip. You sat there, thinking mindlessly as you waited for Sam to come back, taking another sip of your drink. But as you put the glass down, a strange sensation started to come over you. Just as the unease settled in, Sam walked back to the table. You shook your head to clear it, but it only made things worse. The room started to spin. You grabbed onto Sam’s sleeve, your fingers tingling with a strange sensation.

“Sammy,” you whispered, your voice thicker than usual, a chill creeping up your spine. “I don’t feel good…”

Sam turned, his brow furrowing at the sight of you. The instinct to protect kicked in almost immediately, his eyes scanning your face for signs of distress. He took a step closer, gently pulling you into his arms to steady you.

"What’s wrong?" Sam asked, concern tightening his features as he steadied you. His eyes searched yours.

“I feel… funny.” You mumbled, your voice unrecognizable to your own ears. You couldn’t quite place what was happening, but everything about you felt wrong. Weak. Disoriented. Your vision blurred as you swayed slightly in his arms.

“Shh, take it easy,” Sam said, his grip tightening.

“What did you drink?” He asked, concerned.

"I-I don’t know.” You stammered, struggling to make sense of the haze in your head. The words wouldn’t come. The panic began to build in your chest.

"Sammy… what’s happening to me?” You whimpered. “I feel like I’m gonna die.” You whispered, unsure of what could possibly be happening to you.

Suddenly, Sam’s eyes went wide with realization.

“Okay, alright.” He muttered trying to keep the situation calm and under control.

“You’ve been roofied.” He said. He knew exactly what that meant and it terrified him.

“Somethings wrong. I’m scared.” You whimpered as you clutched onto his sleeves tighter.

"Listen to me.” Sam said, his voice low and steady, trying to keep you calm. "It’s the drugs. Someone slipped something in your drink, but I’ve got you, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you." He kept repeating the words, though his heart was hammering in his chest. He could already feel the overwhelming need to protect you—his baby sister against a predator. He wasn’t going to let anything bad happen. But you were already shaking with fear, your body trembling as you tried to push away from him weakly.

"I don’t…want anyone to touch me…" Your voice was strained, barely above a whisper. Your hands trying to push the danger away.

“Y/N/N, no one’s going to touch you.” Sam said urgently, his hands gripping your shoulders tighter, pulling you close as you fought weakly against him.

“I’ve got you, okay? I’m right here. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.” He reassured softly, urgently scanning the bar for Dean.

From across the room, Dean had noticed the change in your demeanor. He saw the way your body was trembling, the panic written across your face, and his gut twisted in response. He locked eyes with Sam and without hesitation, he was on his feet, moving toward you, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice hard, but filled with concern as he approached.

“Kid, what’s going on?” He asked, glancing towards Sam.

“Someone drugged her.” Sam said, his jaw tight.

You looked at Dean, wide eyed and tearful.

“De…” You choked, your voice breaking.

“I’m scared… I- I don’t know what’s happening to me.” You barely recognized your own words, too foggy to make sense of them. You felt like your body was betraying you.

“I feel like I’m gonna die.” You whispered once again, your voice breaking.

“Y/N, no,” Sam said firmly, holding you close, his own heart pounding.

“You’re not gonna die. You’re just- it’s the drugs. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He reassured.

You were still confused and panicked, clinging to Sam’s arm weakly.

“I-I’m scared. What if something happens to me?” You whimpered.

Dean’s jaw clenched in disgust.

“No one’s gonna hurt you. I promise. We’ve got you.” Dean said before he wrapped his arm around the other side of you.

“We’re getting you out of here, kiddo.” He said, his voice soft but firm.

“Don’t let anyone—please no—don’t let—please.” You begged, words slipping out of your mouth in a garbled mess, but your brothers understood. They always did.

“No one’s gonna touch you, okay?” Dean’s voice was low, fighting off the rage inside him. “You’re safe now, and we’re gonna make damn sure you stay that way.”

"But… I… feel weird, De…" You whimpered, your voice barely coherent.

“Mm gonna… pass out, and mm scared…” Your words faltered, slipping off into nothingness. The fear in your voice hit Dean like a punch to the gut.

"If you pass out, you’ll still be safe, okay? We’re not going anywhere. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. We won’t let it." Sam said.

Dean nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He couldn’t stand seeing you like this, vulnerable and frightened. The thought of someone doing this to you made him sick.

“Just stay with us, kid. We’re with you, I promise.” He said as they gently guided you out of the bar, keeping you steady between them. You swayed, your legs unsteady, your body trembling as the drug continued to course through you, but they held you firm. They helped you into the Impala, keeping you between them as they kept you talking. Each word you spoke was slurred, and you kept shivering, your body fighting the effects of the drug.

“Just stay with us.” Sam kept saying, holding you steady, his hand brushing against your arm to comfort you. Dean’s jaw clenched as he stared ahead, fighting the urge to get back to the bar and deal with whoever had done this to you.

When you arrived at the motel, they helped you inside. You leaned against Sam, feeling weak, dizzy, and sick.

“I need to… I feel sick…” You mumbled.

Dean’s face darkened as he helped Sam help you into the bathroom, keeping his hands gentle on your shoulders.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta throw up, kid.” He said, his voice low. “We need to get the drugs out of your system.”

You could barely understand him, your body shaking so badly that you could hardly hold yourself up. You tried to push yourself upright, but your limbs felt so heavy. Dean's eyes softened, but there was no way around it. He placed his hand gently on the back of your neck and spoke calmly but firmly.

“Y/N, listen to me. You’ve got to throw up, alright? It’ll help. We’ll get you through this. You just need to trust me.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you whimpered, and as you went to protest, Dean’s fingers gently moved down your throat, making you gag. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, but Dean was right there, speaking in a low, steady voice. “You’re okay. Let it out kid. It’s okay.”

It felt like an eternity. Your body spasmed as you fought against the sickness and the overwhelming sensation of helplessness. But eventually, it passed, and you slumped against Sam, your body drained. Sam wiped your hair from your face, his expression soft.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, weak and exhausted. “I don’t know what’s happening…I-I don’t know.” You said still confused and everything being a blur. Sam’s arms tightened around you, his touch gentle but firm. He pressed his cheek to your hair, his voice soft and soothing.

“Y/N, hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not supposed to understand this, okay? None of this is your fault.” His hands ran through your hair in slow, comforting motions, as if trying to erase the fear from your mind. Dean, kneeled beside you, his face full of worry and love. He took a deep breath and reached for your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. His voice was low and tender, but firm with the promise of protection.

“You didn’t ask for any of this, Y/N. Someone was going to hurt you, they targeted you, but this isn’t on you. It’s not your fault.” He gently squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“We’re here, okay? We’ve got you. Always.” He promised. You felt the weight of their words settle into your chest, and though the fear still lingered, it was softened by their presence. You fell asleep shortly after, too exhausted to stay awake. Neither Sam nor Dean could rest. They took turns watching over you through the night, checking to make sure you were breathing, making sure you were safe. Both of them were sickened by what had happened, angry at whoever had done this to you, but all they could do now was protect you.

The next morning, you woke in a cold sweat, your heart racing, panic clawing at your chest. You couldn’t remember everything, the events from the night before felt distant and fragmented. “What happened?” You gasped, sitting up suddenly.

“What happened to me? Why can’t I remember?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a brief look before Sam moved toward you, his hand gentle on your arm.

“You were roofied, Y/N, but you’re okay. No one touched you. No one hurt you.” He promised. But you didn’t believe it. The anxiety grew and your breaths became shallow.

“I… I don’t remember. What if… what if something happened that I can’t remember? I… I… feel like… what if…” You couldn’t make out the words due to your panic. Dean’s jaw clenched. He hated seeing you like this, vulnerable and terrified.

“Nothing happened, kid. You were with us the whole time. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’re safe. But listen to me—if you feel like you need to talk about it, we’re here.” Your anxiety was rising by the second. You clung to Sam’s arm.

“What if it was Ryan…” You whimpered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Now suddenly terrified of the man. “He could be stalking me… I know he’s the one who was leaving things at the motel door…” You panicked.

“We’ll take care of it, Y/N.” Sam said firmly, not believing it was Ryan, but not having the heart to tell you that there were predators everywhere who lurked in the darkness. Dean noticed the fear still haunting your eyes and your body still trembling.

“But you don’t have to worry. You’re safe. And we won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean nodded, his gaze darkening with something that was close to rage.

“You’re safe, kiddo.” He said, his voice tight with barely contained anger. “We’ll handle it. Just breathe for me, okay? We’ve got this.”

Your chest was still tight with fear, the anxiety overwhelming. You could feel your panic subsiding a little with the strength of their words, but your mind wouldn’t quiet. The thought of Ryan, the unsettling presence of him lingering at your door, kept gnawing at you.

"But... if it’s him, Dean..." Your voice cracked as you spoke, barely above a whisper. "What if he hurts me?"

Dean looked at you, his face softening. He gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a way that was meant to comfort, to ground you.

"I don’t think it was him, kid. But if it is… we’ll deal with it. We’ll make sure he never gets close to you again. That’s a promise.” He said before Sam spoke up. Sam’s voice was steady, filled with the kind of quiet certainty that only a brother could give.

“We’re not letting anything happen to you. It doesn’t matter who it is. No one is going to hurt you, Y/N.”

You wanted to believe them, needed to. And with every word, every gentle reassurance, you felt the weight in your chest slowly lifting. You were still terrified, still shaken to your core, but in this moment—surrounded by them, wrapped in their unwavering protection—you felt just a little bit safer.

They were right. They would take care of it. They always did. Even when the fear in your heart screamed that something was wrong, you knew, deep down, that as long as they were there, they wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

A few hours later, you were in the motel room, packing up your things while your brothers were busy outside, loading the car. Your phone buzzed and you glanced down at it, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the message. The words sent a chill down your spine:

“I almost had you.”

It was like the air sucked out of the room, and you couldn’t breathe. Your entire body froze for a second, the words echoing in your mind, over and over, until you couldn’t stop shaking. Just then another buzz rang through.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and each breath you took was getting shorter, faster, and harder to take. Your vision blurred, your hands trembling so violently that the phone slipped from your grasp and clattered to the floor. The fear of him, of Ryan, washed over you like a flood, paralyzing you in place.

You tried to steady your breathing, but it only got worse. You were suffocating. You could barely think. All you could feel was the terror, the sense of helplessness that seemed to be creeping in around you again. You barely registered the sound of the door opening, but when your brothers entered the room and saw you frozen, staring at the phone on the floor, their faces instantly went from casual to concerned.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice was low, his gaze flicking between you and the phone, noting your pale face and the panic in your eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even breathe properly. Your chest felt like it was caving in, and you choked on a sob. Your body was trembling, your legs unsteady beneath you. Your breath came in sharp, gasping sobs, like you couldn’t get enough air.

Dean’s gaze flicked to Sam, and both of them took a cautious step toward you. Sam’s voice was gentle, but filled with concern. “Y/N, look at me. Talk to us. What’s going on?” Sam’s hand was on your back, trying to ground you, but it wasn’t enough. The flood of emotion, the terror, it was all too much. You couldn’t control it.

“Y/N, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam said, his voice gentle but filled with urgency as he tried to soothe you. “Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe. You’re safe. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

But you couldn’t stop. The sobs racked through you, violent and desperate. You couldn’t make sense of your words—nothing came out but frantic gasps and incoherent sobs. You stumbled backward, clinging to the edge of the bed, trying to stay upright. Your brain felt foggy, the panic overtaking every inch of your mind.

“M-my phone…” You managed to gasp, but the words barely made sense.

Dean stepped forward, kneeling down to pick up your phone from the floor. His hands were steady, but his jaw clenched tight as he saw the message that had sent you into this panic. He read it aloud, his voice cold with fury.

“I almost had you. I’m closer than you think?”

His jaw tightened, and you could see the fury building in him. “Who the hell…” He muttered under his breath, his voice low and full of anger, but there was also concern—so much concern—written in his features. His eyes darkened. “Goddamn it.” He said, coming to conclusion that you were right all along and it was Ryan.

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion, his voice soothing, but cautious. “Dean, hold on, okay? It could be a wrong number. Maybe it’s just some sick joke. We don’t know for sure that it’s him.”

“Y/N,” Sam said quickly, now speaking directly to you. “It’s okay. Maybe it’s just a wrong number, alright?” But even as he said it, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He wanted to calm you, to make it go away, but the fear was already too deep. The message was too much.

Dean’s grip tightened on the phone, his face a mask of frustration and anger.

“I don’t care if it’s a wrong number, Sam. If someone’s messing with her—” He cut himself off, eyes narrowing as if trying to hold back the urge to act before having all the facts. You were shaking uncontrollably now, clinging to Sam as if he were the only thing that kept you from floating away into the panic that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Please… please… make it stop,” you sobbed, unable to stop the torrent of tears. “I can’t… I- I’m so scared…”

Sam wrapped both arms around you, pulling you in close, his voice steady but filled with desperation. “Y/N, we’re here. You’re safe. We’ll figure this out. We’ll take care of it, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna get close to you. We won’t let it happen.”

But you couldn’t stop the trembling, couldn’t stop the feeling that something terrible was waiting just around the corner. It didn’t matter that Sam was trying to calm you, or that Dean was ready to fight whoever had done this.

The fear was too deep and all you could do was cling to them as if your life depended on it—because, in that moment, it felt like it did.

You buried your face in Sam’s chest, letting the warmth of his arms envelop you, trying to believe that, somehow, you were safe. But the message kept ringing in your ears. "I almost had you. I’m closer than you think." It was like a shadow over you, and no matter how tightly they held you, you couldn’t shake it.

The ride back to the bunker was quiet. It had been a long, exhausting stretch of events, and the idea of getting home, even just to the safety of the familiar bunker, felt like a weight slowly lifting off your shoulders. But you couldn’t shake the tension you’d been carrying because of Ryan.

As you drove through the night, the road stretched on endlessly, the headlights of the Impala cutting through the dark, providing little comfort. A sudden pang hit your bladder, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. You shifted in your seat, glancing at Dean.

“Hey, can we stop at the next rest stop? I really need to use the bathroom.” You asked, softly, still completely exhausted from your emotional turmoil.

Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded.

“Alright. There’s one coming up,” Dean said, pulling the car off the highway. “We’ll fill up on gas, you can go to the bathroom, stretch your legs, grab a snack if you need one and then we’re back on the road.” Dean’s protective streak had kicked in full force lately, especially after everything that had happened. He kept an eye on you constantly, like he was waiting for the next thing to happen, and part of you hated that, but you knew it was because he cared. Sam was always quietly watching, constantly reassessing how you were doing. You’d caught Sam looking at you more than once with that deep concern in his eyes, the same look he had when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Stay close, Y/N.” Dean said as you opened the door, his voice filled with a controlled kind of concern. “We’ll be right here. Just keep your guard up.”

“I’ll be fine.” You replied, attempting to sound convincing, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew it was a lie. You weren’t fine. Not really. But it was better than constantly showing how frazzled you felt. You were a hunter for God sake, you knew how to fight monsters. But Ryan felt worse than a monster, the way he had the ability to make you freeze was what freaked you out the most.

Dean pulled the car up to the gas pump, and Sam went inside, to pay for the fuel and grab a snack. You walked towards the restroom trying to ignore the way the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The echo of your footsteps in the empty rest stop made your skin crawl. You told yourself it was just nerves. That you were being paranoid.

The bathroom was dark, lit only by the flickering fluorescent lights above, and it reeked of stale air and cheap soap. You walked quickly to the nearest stall, locking the door behind you. The last thing you wanted was to spend any more time in this place than necessary.

You exhaled sharply as you sat down to go to the bathroom, mentally trying to push away the unease that had settled in your chest. Everything’s fine, you told yourself. Just breathe. You’re fine.

But then it happened.

There was a soft click—barely audible, but enough to send your heart racing in your chest. You froze. The door to the bathroom had swung open—slowly and eerily.

A pool ball rolled into the stall with a dull clack against the floor, stopping just inches from your feet.

You couldn’t breathe. Your entire body went cold, and your heart slammed into your ribs. It was happening again. Ryan. You knew it in your gut—he’s here.

A panic that you could not control hit you like a freight train. Your mind screamed at you, but your body was already in fight or flight mode. Your hands shook violently as you tried to make yourself as small as possible, jumping up onto the toilet to hide your feet, praying to God that if he was here, he couldn’t see you. You scrambled for your phone, barely able to hold it steady. Your fingers were shaking so badly, it felt like you were losing control of them. You quickly typed a message, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears it was all you could hear.

Ryan's here. Please help. Please.

You hit send as quickly as your shaking hands would allow. You couldn’t risk making a sound, couldn’t risk him hearing you. Then the phone buzzed in your hand, and you nearly jumped out of your skin.

It was Dean.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you picked up the phone, holding it to your ear, barely able to speak through the tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice came through, a steady presence despite the panic you could hear just beneath the surface. “Y/N, what’s going on? Talk to me. Where are you?”

“I… I… I’m in the bathroom,” you whispered, barely able to hold it together. “I—I think it’s Ryan. I’m hiding, Dean. I’m so scared. Please—please hurry.” In the midst of your panic, you didn't even realize you had grabbed the knife from your pocket—hunter instincts. You clutched the knife with a trembling hand as you listened to Dean.

“Okay, listen to me,” Dean’s voice was like a lifeline, and you clung to it, even as your panic threatened to swallow you whole. “We’re right here. We’re coming to you, alright? Just stay calm. Stay quiet.” A few seconds went by when you heard the click of the door again. You froze in place and you didn’t hear the voices at first. The knife was still in your hand, your breath coming out in ragged sobs. You were still convinced it was Ryan on the other side of that door. It was only when Sam’s voice broke through the fog of panic, softer but steady, that you recognized it was your brothers.

“Y/N,” Sam called, and his voice cracked just enough for you to hear how scared he was. “Y/N, it’s Sam. Unlock the door. It’s just us, okay? It’s just us. You’re safe now.” Your knuckles were turning white as you gripped the knife. You looked underneath the stall door to see the run down shoes Sam always had on. But you were still terrified. You could hear every heartbeat in your ears, every breath coming faster and more shallow than the last. Your fingers curled even tighter around the knife’s handle, the metal pressing into your palm.

Dean’s voice was next, firmer, more insistent.

“Open the stall, sweetheart. Let us in. You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

But the fear had a grip on you now, and you couldn’t let go. You squeezed your eyes shut hoping to escape reality when you heard rustling.

It was Sam, he had crawled underneath the stall. Then, suddenly, you felt something solid against your wrist. His hands were gentle but firm, prying your fingers away from the knife you had clutched, but you weren’t willing to let go. Not yet.

"No, Sam, no…" You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts as your free hand shot out, trying to stop him from taking the knife. “Don’t. He’s here. I have to protect myself. He’s—he’s—” You tried to fight against him, but he held you firm as he quickly unlatched the lock on the stall with his other hand to let Dean through.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Dean interrupted, and you heard him moving closer. The panic in his voice made you flinch, but you couldn’t stop yourself. "You don’t need the knife, kid. We’ll keep you safe." But you were shaking too hard, unable to think clearly. You tried to pull away from Sam, but he was right there, keeping you grounded. His voice was low, soothing.

“Y/N, let it go. You don’t need it. We’ve got you, okay? We’ll keep you safe. Just give it to me.” The next moment, you felt a gentle touch on your arm, and Dean’s voice softened, coaxing you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. Just... give us the knife.”

The words barely registered through the fog of fear, and you kept pulling your hand back, subconsciously trying to protect yourself with the knife. But Sam wouldn’t let go, gently but insistently removing your grip from the blade.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Sam murmured, his voice softer now, tinged with sadness. And then, slowly, you let go. Your hand, trembling uncontrollably, released its death grip on the knife, and Sam was there, gently pulling it from your grasp.

“There we go,” Dean said, his voice calm and soothing. Your body wracked with sobs, chest heaving as the tears poured down your face. You couldn’t stop.

“You’re alright, kid. We’ve got you.” Dean comforted you as Sam took care of the knife. Once Sam had it in a safe place, Dean ushered you both out of the stall, with urgency.

“Alright we’ve gotta get out of here.” He said on high alert. Dean had his hand guiding you toward the exit, every step purposeful, every motion an instinctual reaction to the threat that could be around the corner. He wasn’t just worried about Ryan or the fear you felt—he was scanning the area, his eyes darting from one corner of the rest stop to the next, his senses on full alert. He knew that, in situations like this, even the smallest thing could be a warning sign. Once you were safely out of the bathroom and outside of the rest stop, Dean’s pace didn’t slow. He didn’t give you the chance to second guess yourself, to freeze in place. He kept you moving.

“We’re almost to the car. Just stay with me.” He muttered, his voice low but firm, like a quiet command. Sam kept close behind you, watching your every move, staying attuned to the way your body shuddered with each passing moment.

Once you were all in the car, Dean started the engine quickly, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, but he kept his gaze focused, even as his voice softened.

“We’re gonna get get to the bunker and you’ll be safe there.” Dean calmed you. Sam leaned over the seat, his fingers brushing against your hand in a silent reassurance, his soft voice murmuring comforting words, “We’ve got you. You’re gonna be alright. We’re not going anywhere.”

And despite everything, despite the gnawing fear that still clawed at you, you found yourself believing them. Slowly, your heart rate began to settle, your breath no longer caught in your chest.

Dean shot a glance at you through the rearview mirror. His jaw was clenched, his brow furrowed in frustration—but when he saw the slight relaxation in your shoulders, the way your breathing steadied, he allowed himself to exhale.

“We’re alright, kiddo. We’ve got you. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

The Bunker had become your refuge. It was a safe place, a fortress—something that should have calmed you down. But every creak of the old walls, every gust of wind that rattled the windows, seemed to set off something inside you. You had days where you could function normally, where your mind didn’t constantly spiral into panic, but those moments were always fragile. The shadow of Ryan still loomed in your thoughts, and even though you were surrounded by your brothers, even though they were always there to watch your back, you couldn’t shake the fear that always seemed to cling to your skin.

Dean and Sam kept an eye on you, and they were more than just watchful. They were hyper aware of your anxious tics—your fingers twitching when you were nervous, the way you’d tap your foot repeatedly if you were on edge, the way your breathing would hitch in the moments before a panic attack. They knew you better than anyone, better than you even knew yourself.

You sat in the corner of the bunker’s kitchen, knees pulled to your chest, your hands tightly gripping the edge of the table. The world outside the safe walls of the bunker felt like a distant memory. Your breath came in shallow, panicked bursts, as your mind spiraled back to the last few weeks—the constant fear, the paranoia, the ever present sense of being watched.

You fought monsters. You faced things most people would only see in their worst nightmares. Hell, you had fought some of the most vicious, bloodthirsty creatures on Earth. But none of that compared to what Ryan had done to you. Nothing had ever made you freeze in place, completely shut down, like the thought of him did.

Monsters you could handle. But Ryan... he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t something you could fight with a knife or a gun. He was human. And that made him so much scarier.

The weight of that thought pressed down on you like a physical force, crushing you. Why did this scare you more than anything else? You felt weak. Stupid. You should be able to handle this. You should be stronger than this.

But you couldn’t. And it made you feel small.

Dean and Sam came into the kitchen, both looking at you with concern.

“I feel so stupid and so weak. I can fight monsters, but a simple human makes me shut down?” You scoffed getting right to the point now looking at them with tears glistening in your eyes. Sam stopped in front of you, crouching down to your level, his voice soft but firm.

"Y/N," he said gently, “you’re not weak. You’ve faced things that would make most people curl up into a ball. But this... it’s different. And we understand why it’s affecting you the way it is.” He finished.

Dean’s voice was low, full of raw emotion. “He’s not a monster, kid. That’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s messing with your head. He’s going after you in a way that’s—” Dean swallowed hard, his jaw tightening in anger. “—in a way that’s different. In a way that’s... about your vulnerability.”

Your breath caught, and you fought back the sting of tears threatening to spill over. “I don’t want to be scared,” you whispered. “I fought monsters... but a human makes me freeze.” You said again, getting the point across to your brothers that you know you shouldn’t be scared of Ryan.

Sam’s hand landed on your shoulder, his touch warm and steady. “Sometimes, Y/N, humans are more dangerous than anything. He’s going after you in a way that... you can’t just fight off. This is about control. And what he’s trying to do to you—it’s more terrifying than anything we’ve faced.”

Dean nodded, his eyes dark with anger. "Yeah, he’s not after your life, Y/N. He’s after something much worse. He’s using you, manipulating you. And the way he’s targeting you sexually... it’s a violation."

Your whole body trembled, the thought of it too much to bear. The idea of being controlled, of being violated in that way, was suffocating. It made your chest tighten, your body go cold with fear.

"You don’t deserve this," Sam murmured, his voice full of emotion. "You have every right to be petrified. What he’s doing to you isn’t just terrifying—it’s sick." He let out a slow breath. "He’s not just playing mind games. He’s hurting you in ways that can’t be fixed with a fight."

Dean’s gaze softened, his usual tough demeanor fading. "You’ve been through hell, Y/N. And sometimes, human evil? That’s the hardest kind of monster to face. You have every right to be scared. But we’re going to find a way through this."

The words hit you like a wave, washing away some of the shame you had felt. They understood. This wasn’t just some fight or some hunt. This was different. And it wasn’t your fault.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean pulled you into a tight hug, his arms a wall of comfort around you. "You don’t have to thank us, kid. We’ve got you. Always."

Sam and Dean’s research had been relentless, and Dean. They were both determined to uncover any trace of Ryan’s past, to figure out whether he was truly a threat.

One night, while you tried to distract yourself with a book in the common room, Sam was hunched over his laptop, furiously typing. You had been trying to ignore the constant buzzing of his keyboard and the click of the mouse as he worked, but you couldn’t help glancing over.

"Anything new?" You asked, exhausted.

Sam didn’t look up, his eyes glued to the screen. "I’m digging through old records, old forums. He’s a ghost in the system, but there’s gotta be something."

A few minutes passed in silence. Then, Dean walked in, looking unusually serious. He was holding a set of files—notes, printed-out reports. He had been working his own angle, checking in with contacts and old hunters to see if anyone knew anything about Ryan.

“Anything on your end?” You asked quietly, anxiety creeping up your spine.

Dean threw the files on the table and gave you a grim look. “Nothing solid, but something doesn’t sit right. We’ve got a lot of leads on the guy—no criminal records, but that’s what makes it weird. People like Ryan? They don’t just disappear off the grid.”

You tried to force yourself to focus on his words, but the weight of everything you’d been through—the fear, the constant torment—was starting to take its toll. You rubbed your eyes, trying to stay strong. Sam noticed, and without missing a beat, he turned his attention back to his laptop, his voice gentle.

"Don't worry, Y/N. We’re getting closer. We’ll find him. We’ll take care of it." Sam’s reassurance had a weight to it. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel better, he was as focused as a bloodhound on the trail.

Dean nodded in agreement. "We’re going to find him and he’ll never bother you again."

Days passed, and though the investigation continued, the pressure of constant vigilance weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was always watching, lurking just out of sight. Your nerves were frayed. Little things would trigger it—a knock on the door, a creak in the hallway, the sudden drop in the temperature of the Bunker’s stone walls.

You were in the kitchen, trying to get a glass of water. You’d been feeling restless for hours, but it wasn’t until you heard a soft sound—footsteps, faint but clear—that your heart slammed into your throat. You froze.

Someone’s in the bunker.

You swallowed hard, panic setting in instantly. Every part of your body screamed to run, to hide, to grab a weapon, but you were rooted to the spot.

You grabbed the closest thing to you—a heavy cast-iron skillet—and crept toward the hallway. Your breath was ragged, your heart beating so loud it drowned out everything else. Then, out of nowhere, you heard the familiar sound of a door creaking open.

It’s him. It’s Ryan.

Your mind went into overdrive. Without thinking, you darted around the corner, prepared to defend yourself, only to slam right into Dean.

"Y/N—what the hell are you doing?" Dean exclaimed, his eyes wide with concern.

You stared up at him, breathless, your hands still gripping the skillet. “I… I…thought that…”

Dean immediately caught on and with sad eyes, he took you into his arms.

“Alright I know. It’s okay.” He said, guiding you back into the kitchen with a firm hand. “You’re safe. I’ve been here the whole time. It’s just the bunker creaking.” He spoke softly, but his words barely registered. You were still on edge, your chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.

"Dean, I—" you choked out, shaking with fear. "I thought—"

He didn’t let you finish. He pulled you in closer. "I know. I know," He murmured, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

Sam appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“She thought she heard someone in the bunker,” Dean explained quickly, his voice still low and calm. “It’s okay, though. Everything’s fine.”

Sam nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. “Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here with you. We’ve got you. You’re not alone in this.”

You nodded, finally letting yourself lean into Dean’s arms, your heart slowly starting to settle. The relief was fleeting, but it was enough to know you weren’t alone in this fight. You could breathe again, for now.

________

It had been a long next day of research and hunting. Sam and Dean had spent hours digging through files, trying to track down leads on Ryan. But after everything that had happened—after all the terror, the paranoia, the constant fear that hung in the air like a thick fog—they were both exhausted. The night had fallen over the bunker like a heavy blanket, and the silence was deafening.

But it wasn’t just the hunt that weighed on them. It was you.

Dean stood by the kitchen counter, staring down at his half-drunk coffee mug. He wasn’t drinking it. He hadn’t even taken a sip since he sat down.

“You saw her last night?” Dean’s voice was low, like he was afraid someone else would hear him. Sam, who had been pacing the floor, stopped for a second and turned to face him.

“Yeah. I saw it.” Sam’s voice was equally strained, and he wiped a hand over his face, as if trying to rub away the exhaustion.

“You think she’s okay?” Dean asked, his voice tight, filled with an edge that Sam wasn’t used to hearing.

Sam took a slow breath, letting the words settle for a moment before answering. He didn’t know how to say it without sounding weak. “No. No, I don’t. She’s… she’s scared, Dean. But it’s worse than that.” Sam’s brow furrowed as he moved closer, lowering his voice further. “It’s like she’s been breaking down more and more each day.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. He’d seen it too. He’d watched you freeze up, flinch at the slightest noise, and jump at shadows. He’d seen how her hands trembled when she was alone, how her eyes darted around like she was constantly expecting something—anything—to happen. It terrified him.

But what had happened in the middle of that night, had made his heart sink to his stomach.

He’d dodged the pan just in time, but it had been close. Too close.

And that was when it really hit him. You were spiraling.

Sam’s voice broke the silence. “She almost hurt you last night, Dean. She thought it was Ryan.” His words hung in the air, heavy and thick. “That’s not just paranoia anymore. She’s lost it.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the table. “I don’t know what to do, Sammy. She—she’s so scared of him. And every day it’s getting worse. But I don’t know how to fix this. Every time I try to reach her, it’s like she’s just… slipping away.”

Sam’s face softened, his eyes tired but filled with understanding. “You’ve seen her, Dean. She’s not herself anymore. I’ve never seen her this… broken. I think she’s just trying to survive right now. Trying to make it through the next hour, the next minute. But it’s eating her alive. And it’s getting worse.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, frustration and fear boiling beneath his tough exterior. He’d been the strong one his whole life, the one who protected everyone. But this? This was different. You weren’t just scared anymore. You were broken, and it killed him to see you like this.

“I just—I don’t know what to do, Sammy. I don’t know how to fix this.” Dean’s voice cracked slightly, betraying the deep pain he felt. “I’ve fought monsters, I’ve fought angels and demons, and nothing—nothing ever felt like this. This is different. This is personal.”

Sam’s expression softened even further. “She’s been through hell, Dean. Ryan’s a monster, and you know it. But what he’s doing to her... that’s worse than anything we’ve faced. He’s attacking her mind, her sense of control, her safety. He’s getting inside her head, and she doesn’t know how to fight back against that.”

Dean nodded, the tightness in his chest only growing. He knew all of that. He knew it. But hearing it out loud—hearing how bad it had gotten—just made him feel more helpless. His eyes met Sam’s, and for a moment, the weight of it all hung between them.

“She’s scared of herself now, Sammy,” Dean said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “She doesn’t know who she is anymore. And I—I—I can’t let her keep slipping like this.”

Sam stepped closer, resting a hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “We can’t fix it overnight. But we’ll be here for her. We’ll help her through it. And if we need to hunt Ryan down and make sure he never hurts her again, we’ll do that too. Hell, we’re trying to do that. But right now, we just need to be there. For her. For us.”

Dean sighed heavily, a hollow sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “I know. But damn, Sam... I just— I never thought I’d see her like this. She’s just… so scared.”

“I know,” Sam replied.

Dean took a slow breath, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t know how they were going to get through this, how they were going to help you heal, but they had to. For you. Because no one—not Ryan, not any monster—was going to take you away from them. Not without a fight.

The fight had come sooner than expected and not in the way they wanted—so not in the way they wanted

———

That night, you woke up with the feeling that something was wrong—something was off. Your skin prickled. Your body stiffened, like it always did when you knew you weren’t alone, but you hadn’t heard anything. No footsteps. No creaking door.

You froze.

The next thing you knew, a figure was hovering over your bed, looming in the dark. Ryan.

His face was twisted with that sick grin, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You couldn't breathe. Your heart hammered in your chest.

His hands reached for you, and instinct took over. Panic. Pure, unfiltered panic surged through you.

“NO!” you screamed, your voice cracking with raw terror. The scream was torn from your throat before you could even think, before you could react, and you scrambled backward, the covers tangled around your legs as you tried to get away.

Ryan reached for you again, and you swiped at his hands, your own trembling in fear. You kicked your legs out, trying to get any distance between you and the nightmare looming over you. But it didn’t matter. He was too close.

A primal fear took over, and in that moment, you didn’t care about anything else but getting away. You couldn’t think, couldn’t make sense of anything. He was going to hurt you. He was going to touch you.

You managed to kick him in the chest, but he didn’t back away. He leaned forward, forcing himself onto the bed, and you fought back with everything you had. But you were weak. You were so weak. It was all you could do to flail helplessly against him.

Then, the door flew open.

Sam was there, standing in the doorway, his face pale with panic as he took in the sight of you struggling on the bed with Ryan. Dean was right behind him, eyes wild, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Dean roared as he charged forward. He didn’t hesitate for a second. With a wild force, he tackled Ryan off the bed, shoving him to the floor with an intensity that rattled the whole room and a force that made Ryan gasp in surprise.

Dean's grip was like iron, his face twisted in a mask of rage that you had only ever seen when someone dared hurt those he loved.

"Did you touch her? Did you touch her, you piece of shit?!" Dean's voice was thick with fury, a low, guttural growl of pure protective rage.

Ryan's eyes widened, his hands scrambling to break free of Dean's grip, but he didn't stand a chance. Dean slammed him into the wall with a thud that sent the room vibrating.

"Did you lay a hand on her?" Dean shouted, his voice cracking with fury. "Did you?" He slammed him against the wall again, fists swinging with devastating precision.

“You a piece of shit! You roofie her too?! Huh?!” He screamed, stopping for a moment and letting the room be still. “Answer me, bitch!” He growled and shoved him harder against the wall. Ryan started chuckling. A chuckle that was so evil, your breath got caught in your throat.

“I almost had you. So close in that bar. You were almost mine.” He confirmed. You, though, stood frozen, shaking violently, your body still trying to comprehend that he was there—that Ryan was there and he was there all along.

Your body felt like it was going to break apart from the inside, each sob ripped from you like it was being torn out of your chest. Your vision blurred with tears as your entire body trembled with fear. Sam rushed to you, holding you close to his chest.

“He’s not going to hurt you, okay? You’re safe. We’ve got you.” Sam’s voice was soft, but strained, as he knelt beside you, trying to ground you, trying to stop you from spiraling. His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do, but he kept saying it, over and over. “We’ve got you. He’s not going to touch you.”

Dean had Ryan pinned to the floor now, holding him down as he growled, “You fucked with the wrong person.”

Ryan sneered up at him, but Dean didn’t hesitate. He leaned down, his face inches from Ryan’s, his voice low and full of venom, “You’re done.”

But your sobs only grew louder.

Sam, noticing how you were completely falling apart, moved even closer to you, lifting your head up gently and meeting your eyes with his. “Hey. Hey. You’re okay, alright? You’re okay. He’s not going to hurt you. We’re right here.” His voice, though calming, couldn’t seem to reach you. Not through the whirlwind of panic, the choking terror.

You kept gasping, clutching Sam’s shirt like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. “He was going to... he was going to...” Your breath hitched, unable to complete the sentence and then you started to hyperventilate, your lungs unable to keep up.

Sam, visibly desperate, looked over at Dean. “We need to get him out of here. This isn’t helping her.” His voice was tight with emotion as he gently held you, his hands pressing you closer.

Dean’s face twisted in fury as he kept his eyes on Ryan. “We need him gone, completely gone.” Sam confirmed to Dean.

There was a beat of silence, before Dean’s jaw tightened, and he shouted, “CAS!” The desperation was palpable. They needed him. They needed something to stop this nightmare from getting worse. They couldn’t expect him to show up—after all he’s been MIA for the past couple months, but Dean prayed and he prayed hard.

Silence filled the room. It felt like eternity, the weight of it pressing on you, suffocating you. And then, without warning—Cas appeared in a flash of light.

“What is it?” Cas asked, his voice deep and serious. His eyes fell on you instantly, and he didn’t need to ask what was happening.

“We need him gone, Cas.” Dean’s voice was nearly breaking now. He was so close to losing control.

Without a word, Castiel stepped forward, his hand raised. In a flash, Ryan’s entire being seemed to freeze, his eyes glazing over as if everything about him was being wiped away.

For a moment, everything felt eerily still.

And then, Ryan collapsed to the floor, his body limp, his consciousness erased.

“Which timeline do you prefer I send him to?” Cas asked with a low tone.

“The one that’s going to make him suffer the most.” Dean raged. Another flash and Ryan was gone, away from you forever. Castiel turned to Dean, his face unreadable, but the weight of the decision hung heavily in the air.

"He's gone." Castiel said, his voice soft but firm.

"He will never remember anything about himself—let alone her. He will never come back."

Dean's eyes softened as he let go of the breath he'd been holding. "Good.” He said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Good." He stood back as Cas disappeared back into the light. Sam didn’t let go of you though. He stayed close as your body wracked with shudders. Your sobs came in gasps, your chest aching with the effort to release everything inside. You were falling apart, crumbling beneath the weight of what had almost been your reality.

"He was going to... he was going to..." You gasped through your tears, your words barely audible, as though speaking them made the fear real again. Your hands shook as you pressed them against your face, unable to wipe away the tears fast enough. "He was going to touch me. He was going to-"

"No. No, sweetheart," Sam murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "He's not here. He's gone. It's over, okay?" He held you tighter, one hand smoothing through your hair in gentle strokes, but you could feel the panic still surging inside of you, that paralyzing terror. It was a part of you now.

"Did he—did he touch you?” Dean's voice came low, ragged with an edge of panic. His fists were still clenched, his knuckles white from the tension. He couldn’t fully let go of the fury that had surged through him. But he wasn’t just angry at Ryan—he was angry at himself. He was angry because he wasn’t fast enough, because he couldn’t stop it before it almost happened.

You shook your head violently, your body trembling uncontrollably. “No... no, but he... he was going to. He was going to hurt me... I tried to fight him... I tried...” Your voice cracked, and another sob tore through your chest, shaking your body with it. You squeezed your eyes shut, as if doing so would somehow block out the fear.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his eyes scanning you like he was looking for the faintest sign of injury, but all he could see was the deep terror etched on your face. “You fought, kid. You fought him with everything you had,” he said, his voice gruff, though the softness was there too, buried underneath the anger. “You’re safe. You’re safe now.” But it didn’t feel safe. Nothing felt safe.

You clutched at Sam’s shirt, still shaking, still lost in the aftermath of what had almost happened, the sensation of Ryan on top of you, trying to press closer, his hands too damn close. The image wouldn’t leave your mind. You couldn’t make it stop. Your breath hitched in your chest, coming in short, sharp gasps, as if you couldn’t get enough air to fill your lungs.

Sam’s hand continued to stroke your hair, but you couldn’t ground yourself. The panic wasn’t letting go. The terror hadn’t left you, and it was suffocating. Your throat felt tight. Your pulse hammered in your ears.

"I thought he was going to- he was going to touch me, Sam. I couldn’t stop him..." You couldn’t say it without choking on it.

“You stopped him.” Sam whispered, his voice tight with emotion as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “You stopped him. You’re okay.”

But it didn’t feel that way. The room felt like it was closing in, suffocating you. The relief that had swept through your brothers didn’t touch you yet. It didn’t touch the panic that was still eating at you.

Ryan was gone.

Gone.

And yet, your body didn’t stop shaking. You couldn’t find the relief you so desperately craved.

Dean stood in front of you, his hands still twitching as he tried to fight back the overwhelming emotions inside him. “You’re safe now, kiddo,” he said again, his voice a little softer now, but it still held the rawness of everything he’d just been through. “No one’s gonna touch you again. Not him. Not anyone.”

You nodded, but it felt mechanical, like your mind couldn’t catch up to the reality of what was happening. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream—or rather, a nightmare. The only thing you were certain of was that the terror was still with you. And when you looked up at Dean, his eyes softened, but the weight of it all was still there, between you.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

You pressed your face into his chest, your sobs quieting, but still present—too raw, too real. “I was so scared,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if I was going to make it.”

Dean swallowed hard, unable to speak for a moment. His voice was low, barely audible, “I know, kiddo. I know. But you did. You did.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Ryan’s empty space anymore. He was gone, yes—but so was something else: your peace. You didn’t know when it would come back, or if it would ever come back. But for now, at least Ryan couldn’t hurt you anymore.

And you had your brothers. They were here, and they weren’t going anywhere.

It wasn’t over. But you were safe. And you had them. That was enough—for now.

Maybe, just maybe, you could start to heal. Slowly.

This was the first real step towards your peace.

———

It had been a few weeks since everything had happened with Ryan, and things in the bunker were starting to feel normal again—or at least, the new normal. While the shadows of what you had gone through still lingered in small corners of your mind, there was a new, brighter energy in the air. The laughter was coming back, the goofiness, the spark that Dean and Sam had missed.

They could see it. They could feel it.

Dean watched you from across the room one night, a soft, proud smile creeping across his face as you and Sam joked about some ridiculous theory on a case you’d just picked up. Your laughter, unfiltered and full of life, echoed through the halls, and for a moment, he forgot about everything else. He could just hear the sound of you—the real you—being you again. It was a relief, the kind that settled deep into his bones.

You were teasing Sam about how much coffee he was drinking, and Dean could see the way your eyes sparkled as you exchanged insults, the kind of playful back-and-forth that was uniquely you.

He caught Sam's gaze from the corner of the room. Sam, too, was watching you, his face softening as you laughed. The tension in his shoulders had eased since the worst of the storm passed. He could see it, too. The light.

After a while, Dean leaned over to Sam, his voice low enough so you wouldn’t hear.

“You see that?” Dean asked, his voice filled with quiet admiration.

Sam glanced over at you, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Yeah. I do. She’s… coming back. Really coming back.”

Dean nodded, his eyes still fixed on you. “I haven’t seen her like this in a while. Not since before… you know.”

Sam's face softened as he nodded, the shadow of the past still lingering, but less overpowering. “Yeah. I’ve noticed. She’s more her now. It’s like the light inside her is just... brightening again. I mean, hell, just last week, she was practically making fun of my inability to eat my cereal without spilling half of it.”

Dean chuckled at that. “It’s good to see her like that again. I missed it. I missed her.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, eyes still following your movements as you began doing an impromptu dance around the kitchen, spinning a spatula like a baton while pretending to cook. “She’s not just laughing, though. She’s living again,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I think she’s finally starting to feel safe again.”

Dean’s jaw tightened for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides, but his gaze softened again as he watched you. “She deserves that. She deserves to feel safe.”

Sam nodded, his voice heavy with unspoken thoughts. “We both know how much it’s taken for her to get back here. And it’s hard, man. It’s hard to see her like that. But… seeing her like this? It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, his usual bravado fading for just a moment as he took it in. “I don’t know if we can ever really fix her, Sam. Not completely. But we can help her find herself again. And that's more than I thought we could do.”

Sam smiled, his eyes full of understanding. “You’re right. We’re not gonna fix everything. But we can make sure she knows she’s not alone. We’ll help her pick up the pieces. One step at a time.”

Dean exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Yeah, one step at a time.”

Just then, you twirled around, catching their gaze, and flashed them a playful smile.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Am I distracting you guys from your super important brotherly talk?”

Dean couldn’t help but grin, his heart swelling with a strange combination of pride and relief. “Nah. Just admiring my sister’s insane dance moves.”

You raised an eyebrow, and Sam cracked a smile at your dramatic expression. “It’s not every day you get to witness a a crazy person, you know?”

“Oh, please,” you said, flipping your hair. “I’m basically a ballet prodigy in disguise. You should all be so lucky to witness this greatness.”

Sam, fighting back laughter, gestured toward your half-hearted dance. “A true masterpiece. You should really consider putting on a show, huh?”

Dean slapped his hand on the table and made a dramatic gasp. “I’m definitely booking tickets to that show. Front row, too.”

You giggled, the sound of it like music to their ears. “Alright, alright, don’t get too carried away. But you’re welcome for this once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

Dean and Sam both watched you with such quiet affection, their hearts full. It was moments like these that made everything they’d been through worth it. Every sleepless night, every fight, every broken moment.

You were coming back. You were finding your way back to yourself, and that made everything feel a little more right.

Later that night, after you’d gone to bed, Dean and Sam stayed up talking in the kitchen. They didn’t want to admit it, but they both knew something: You were healing.

“She’s not the same, Sam,” Dean murmured, his tone barely above a whisper. “She’s different. Lighter. Stronger.”

Sam nodded, eyes dark but filled with gratitude. “Yeah. She’s her again. And that means everything.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, staring out the kitchen window. “We’ve got a long road ahead, Sam. But I think she’s got it in her. She’s stronger than she thinks. And we’re here. Always.”

Sam smiled softly, clapping Dean on the shoulder. “Yeah. Always.”

And as they sat there in silence, they knew one thing for sure: The worst was behind them. The darkness had passed, and now, they just had to watch as the light you were rediscovering slowly grew brighter.

The road ahead wasn’t going to be easy. But together, with you back to yourself, they could handle anything. Together, they could face the world.

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nhlclover · 19 days ago

Text

CAPTAIN CHRISTMAS RYAN LEONARD

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x ryan leonard

summary: you and ryan decorate your home for the holiday season, only for ryan to find out your particularity when it comes to your ornaments

warnings: none!

wc: 1.63k

notes: second fic in my twelve days of christmas celebration! honest to god this is me when i decorate everything has it's place.

The first snow of December drifted lazily outside the bay window of your shared home, the streetlamps casting a golden glow onto the fresh powder below. Inside, the strong scent of pine fills the air as you sat by the tree rearranging branches. Yours and Ryan's home was slowly housing more of a Christmas spirit as the soft hum of holiday music played through the speaker and the flames crackled in the fireplace. The two of you were in the process of decorating your home for the first time for Christmas, which seemed like an innocent enough activity at first.

Boxes of Christmas decorations sat open on the floor, a mess of mismatched ornaments, strings of lights, and an absurdly large tangle of tinsel that Ryan was currently attempting to wrestle into submission.

“How does it even get like this?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed as he held up the knot of silver, squinting as though the strands might untangle themselves if he stared hard enough.

“I don’t know… it just happens.” you replied without looking up. You were on your knees by the tree, carefully fluffing the artificial branches into a perfect shape. Each limb needed to look full and balanced before you could even think about adding ornaments.

Ryan finally surrendered with a sigh, dropping the tangle of tinsel into a pile. “Alright, I’m done with this thing. Maybe we don’t need tinsel this year.”

You glanced over, biting back a comment about how tinsel made the tree look finished. “Fine, but we’re doing the lights next. And they have to be evenly spaced, no clumps.”

“Evenly spaced, got it,” he said, standing and brushing off his hands and giving you a mocked salute. “Captain Christmas has spoken.”

Ryan set to work stringing the lights along the tree, his movements careful but a bit haphazard. The warm glow of the tiny bulbs illuminated the room in a soft golden light as he looped them around the branches, whistling along to the holiday music playing softly in the background.

You watched him for a moment, hands on your hips, before tilting your head critically.

“Wait, no,” you said, stepping forward. “That section right there — there’s way too much space between the lights.”

Ryan stopped mid-loop, looking at where you were pointing. “What? It looks fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough,” you replied firmly, plucking the strand from his hands. “See, here’s the problem. You’ve looped the lights too many times around this branch, then just draped it over this section so it looks like a huge gap. It throws everything off.”

He leaned back, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow at you. “Throws everything off, huh? I didn’t realize we were aiming for perfection.”

You ignored the teasing tone, unwinding the strand slightly and reworking the section in question. “Of course, we are. It’s our first Christmas in this house — it has to be perfect.”

Ryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped back to let you work your magic. “I see how it is. You’re a Christmas tree tyrant.”

“I prefer enthusiast,” you said without looking up, focused on spacing the lights evenly. “This tree is going to be the centerpiece of the house. People will see it when they visit.”

Ryan couldn’t help but snort at your answer, which caused you to shoot him a glare. He grinned in response, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. No more jokes. Just tell me where you need me.”

You ask him to get the boxes of ornaments, and once the lights were finished and met your approval, you began to decorate the tree. You started placing them carefully, each one balanced in size, shape, and color to create the perfect spread. Ryan, meanwhile, hung ornaments with the kind of carefree abandon that made you twitch. A tiny Santa was placed too low, and a sparkly reindeer ended up hidden behind a branch.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your side of the tree, but eventually, the urge became too strong. While Ryan stepped away to grab another ornament, you subtly moved to fix his last couple of decorations.

When he returned, you were caught red-handed, adjusting the placement of the snowman he had just placed. He froze, holding a delicate glass snowflake, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Are you… moving my ornaments?”

“No,” you said quickly, too quickly. “This one was about to fall off the branch.”

He laughed, deep and warm, and came to stand beside you. “You totally are! This one was up on this branch, and that candy cane was about four inches to the right. What’s wrong with how I’m doing it?”

“Nothing! There’s nothing wrong.” you answered, placing a hand on his forearm. You met Ryan’s gaze that was clearly not buying what you were saying. You sighed, lowering your volume. “It’s just… they’re not in the right spots.”

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “So, what I’m hearing is: I’m terrible at this, and you should just do it all yourself?”

“No!” you protested, though your guilt was evident in your voice. “I mean… maybe I’m being a little controlling.”

“A little?” he asked, grinning.

“Fine, a lot.” you corrected. “But it’s our first tree and I want us to decorate it together… I’ll back off a little.”

You resumed decorating, which went well for a few minutes, until Ryan could see you eyeing his every move. When he placed a glittery penguin ornament on a branch by the top, he saw you visibly cringe. An idea popped into Ryan’s head, turning to you.

“I don’t think I like the penguin there, where do you think I should put it?” he asked you.

“He should go… maybe a little higher, near the middle. Balance out the ornaments with all the gold and red around it.” you tell him.

Ryan nodded thoughtfully, taking the ornament down and holding it out to you. “Here, you do it. You’ve got the vision.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the penguin. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he said, leaning against the arm of the couch with a sly smile. “You're clearly the expert.”

With a sheepish grin, you took the ornament and placed it exactly where you’d envisioned, stepping back to admire your work. “Perfect.”

Ryan watched you with an amused glint in his eyes. The gears in his mind were turning, and as you turned back to the box of ornaments, he picked up another. This time, a sparkling gingerbread man.

“Hey,” he called, holding it up. “What do you think about this guy? Where does he belong?”

You looked up, your eyes darting over the tree for the ideal spot. “He should probably go somewhere lower, to balance the heavier ornaments near the bottom.”

“Right, makes sense,” Ryan replied, walking toward the tree. Instead of hanging it, though, he handed it to you with a grin. “Here, you’d better do it.”

You gave him a look but couldn’t resist taking the ornament. The pattern repeated itself. Each time Ryan picked up an ornament, he’d stop and ask your opinion, nodding sagely at your suggestions before handing it over with a smug smile. Soon enough, you were practically decorating the entire tree by proxy.

“Alright,” you said, grabbing the gold star tree topper from the bin and handing it to Ryan. “You do the honors.”

Ryan reaches up slightly, carefully placing the star on the top of the tree. When he stepped back, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in close as you both admired the completed tree.

The tree was, without a doubt, stunning, each ornament shimmering in the glow of the twinkling lights. It looked like something out of a Christmas catalog—perfectly curated, yet undeniably warm and personal.

“You know,” you said, leaning into Ryan's side with a soft smile, “I knew exactly what you were doing, getting me to decorate for you.”

Ryan grinned, his dimples deepening as he glanced down at you. “Oh, you knew, huh? And here I thought I was being so subtle.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him. “I mean, if you were trying to avoid decorating, you might’ve just said so.”

“Not avoiding,” he countered, his tone laced with teasing. “Just… delegating. You’ve got the eye for this stuff. I’m a humble assistant to your artistic vision.”

A laugh escaped you, but it faded into a quiet moment of reflection. “I’m sorry if I was being a little… okay, a lot controlling. I just—”

“Wanted it to be perfect,” Ryan finished for you, his voice gentle. “And it is. Look at it, babe. The tree’s amazing because of you.”

His words softened the lingering guilt in your chest. You rested your head against his shoulder, watching the lights twinkle like tiny stars. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Not at all.” He kissed the top of your head, his lips warm and lingering. “I love that you care so much. You make everything special.”

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence, taking in the sight of your newly decorated space. Snow continued to fall outside, a pristine blanket of white forming across the lawn. The glow of the tree illuminated the room, casting a soft, golden light over the cozy chaos of unpacked boxes and loose decorations still strewn about.

Ryan pulled back slightly, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, about those cookies we were supposed to bake…”

You groaned dramatically. “Cookies? After all this? Do I have to do that by proxy too?”

He smirked, taking your hand and leading you toward the kitchen. “No way. I’ll be the captain of that operation. You can be my assistant this time.”

#ryan leonard #ryan leonard x reader #ryan leonard imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #boston college #bc eagles #washington capitals #rl09 #`✦ˑ ✒️ 𓂃⊹ my works #clover's twelve days of christmas!

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pedroscurls · 29 days ago

Text

training partners (pt. 12)

summary: without another word from jack, you and hugh continue your relationship without any issue or distraction. filming comes close to an end and there's one scene that hugh needs your assistance with. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: smut (18+, mdni), lots of oil (duh, someone's gotta lube hugh up for that end scene), dirty talk, teasing, sex in hugh's trailer, oral - f & m receiving, unprotected p in v, swallowing, missionary, hugh covers your mouth (to keep you quiet), implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k a/n: ok, this is complete filth lol. i had to write something about this scene because when hugh said that there were people whose sole job was to lube him up??? well, let's just say my mind went places lol. hope y'all enjoy! (needed some good fluff / smut before we get back into the angst hehe) as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

Filming continues and you’re grateful that Jack hasn’t tried to reach out to you nor does he try to look for you either. Knowing that he got the hint that you no longer are giving him control of your life, it gives you relief. You feel like you can finally breathe again, can finally move forward with your life, with Hugh.

Without worrying about Jack coming back, you’re able to get back to enjoying your day-to-day responsibilities of continuing to take photographs on set of the movie. Every day, you wake up feeling immensely grateful for Hugh, Ryan, and Shawn for giving you this opportunity. While you normally take photographs of couples who have recently gotten engaged and have occasionally worked a small wedding, being an on-set photographer and capturing behind the scenes content is so much more enjoyable. It gives you a glimpse of how movies are made, shows you the passion and dedication of each cast and crew member.

But Hugh… you had always been a fan of his work and being able to see him in his element left you speechless every time. The way he’s able to switch into character so easily and become Logan Howlett - a character that you’ve always loved.

Throughout filming, you’re just in awe of everyone on set and to be able to see the movie unfold right before your eyes is an experience that you’re sure will only happen once in a lifetime.

And as the end of filming fast approaches, you embrace every second of every day you’re on set. You find that you fall more in love with Hugh, watching him interact with every single person and making sure that they feel seen and heard - he truly is perfect, and a really good man, and you have to wonder what you did to deserve him.

Hugh hadn’t brought up Jack in months since the last argument you both had and you’re grateful. You never wanted Jack to ever be the reason to get in between you and Hugh. While you feel partially responsible, you have come to realize that it was bound to happen eventually. It was naive to think that Hugh wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.

“So,” Hugh says, pulling you from your thoughts as you both remain lying in bed, limbs entangled after yet another intimate session of lovemaking.

“Hm?” You ask, turning to look over at him as your fingertips run across his bare chest.

“How are we going to go back to New York and not be with each other every night and morning?”

You arch a brow in his direction. You know what he’s implying and he’s just staring at you with a small smile. A hopeful smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m glad to have my own space after–,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face.

Hugh narrows his eyes and moves to hover above you, hands grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your heads. You’re both still naked and he makes sure to press his hips into you. You can feel him getting harder and harder by the second.

“Wanna say that again, baby?”

“How are you getting hard again?” You ask, lifting your hips to roll against his.

“You make it easy,” he winks. “Now, don’t go and change the subject.”

“Well, that’s really difficult when you’re literally distracting me!”

Hugh smirks, his grip around your wrist tightening as he leans down to brush his lips against yours. “You ain’t gonna miss me?” He whispers, moving his hips as his tip brush against you. “Not gonna miss sleeping next to me and waking up next to me, baby?”

“Hugh…” your eyes flutter and your legs wrap around his hips, locking your ankles at his lower back. “I will… I will miss you. I was just teasing and–”

Hugh grins and slides into you in one thrust, growling as your walls surround him. “That’s what I thought.”

—

Later that week, you’re staring up at Hugh who’s grinning down at you. You’re in his trailer and he’s already in his Wolverine suit - albeit a little dirtier than when he first put it on and his arms now in full display.

“You’re telling me that I will need to oil you up?” You ask, eyes wide. “For what? Why? Oh my god, I’m gonna– How will I do that?!”

“Well, you put oil on your hands and–”

“Okay, ha ha.” You roll your eyes playfully, feeling his hands move to your hips. “Hugh…”

“What? You want someone else to oil me up? That it? First you say you won’t miss me when we go back home, that you want your space, and now you don’t wanna touch me?” He teases with a smirk. “What’s next, baby?”

“Oh stop, you’re being dramatic.” You laugh quietly, looking into his eyes.

“So, you’ll oil me up?” He grins.

“If I must,” you tease. “But you owe me.”

“Oh, baby, just you wait.” He winks.

“What does the scene even consist of where I have to put oil on you?”

“You’ll see.”

“Not even a hint?”

Hugh shakes his head and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “Nope. I will say, though,” he whispers, moving his lips along your jawline to your ear. “I’m gonna try my very best not to get excited when your hands are all over me.”

“Oh my god, you’re going to be shirtless, aren’t you?”

His lips grow into a wide grin as he gently nips along the side of your neck, hands gripping your hips. “Yeah, baby.”

You look at him from top to bottom, biting down on your lower lip as your gaze darkens at the thought. You clear your throat and look back into his eyes, slowly shaking your head. “Yeah, you owe me because I don’t know how I’m going to oil you up without wanting to–”

“Oh, I know,” Hugh chuckles, interrupting you. “Good thing it’s the last scene to shoot before we call it a day.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that after that scene, you’re going to take me back to the hotel and…” you wiggle your brows together. “You know.”

Hugh smirks, hands slowly moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, dipping low to rest on your backside. “I don’t know,” he lies. “Why don’t you tell me what I’ll be doing when we get back to the hotel room?”

“You’re gonna let me have my way with you,” you grin, nodding excitedly.

“Oh, I’m gonna let you, will I?”

“Yes.” you answer, matter-of-factly.

“Love the confidence, baby,” Hugh grins as he leans down to peck your lips lightly. “Gotta get back on set. I’ll see you later.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, Hugh,” you answer, pulling back and looking up at him with a small pout on your lips.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he winks. “You know I will.”

“You better.”

“I promise,” Hugh says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile.

—

Throughout the rest of the day, you find yourself distracted with the thought of having to oil Hugh up for the last scene of the day. While you’re still in awe of the acting from both Ryan and Hugh, you can’t help but your eyes deviate to Hugh’s arms as he says his lines.

And even as that scene approaches, Shawn is the first one to walk up to you, a teasing grin on his lips. “So, you’re okay with oiling Hugh up for this last scene?”

“I think it’d be weird if I wasn’t,” you tease, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation.

“That’s true,” he chuckles. “Ryan’s been teasing him all day about it,” Shawn points out.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” you smile. “How much oil will I have to put on him, by the way?”

“Um,” Shawn grins. “Quite a lot and depending on how many takes we’ll need to get the right one…”

“Okay, so we might need more than one bottle.”

“Oh, we have plenty.”

“And this scene…” you begin, playing with your camera strap.

“It’s a good one,” Shawn finishes for you.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be Wolverine if there wasn’t at least one shot of him without a shirt, right?”

Shawn laughs quietly. “That’s right… Speaking of the devil,” he nods his head over your shoulder and you turn slightly to see Hugh without his shirt, simply dressed in only the yellow and blue pants with the matching boots and cowl.

You clear your throat at the sight of him, his muscles clearly defined as you bite your lower lip. Your eyes linger on his chest and abdomen, moving along his strong arms and shoulders. Ryan’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you turn your gaze on the other man, who’s dressed in his entire Deadpool gear.

“You might want to pick up your jaw off the floor,” Ryan chuckles.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, gently smacking his chest. “I see this every day, it’s nothing new to me,” you lie.

Hugh places his hands on his hips, staring at you with a slight tilt to his head and a small smirk on his lips. He can see your eyes flitting back to him, can see the way you're gently gnawing at your lower lip and he knows exactly what kind of look you’re giving him.

“I know,” Ryan sighs dramatically. “Lucky you.”

“Got the oil for you,” Hugh says, handing it to you and breaking you out of your thoughts. You take it from him slowly, fingers brushing against his.

“Right. So, we’re doing this now.” you say, gripping the bottle of oil tightly in your grasp.

Shawn nods and then looks over at you. “Don’t put too much,” he advises. “Just enough to make his skin glisten, like he’s sweating.”

“Right, right,” you nod, clearing your throat. “Not too much, but just enough.”

Ryan and Shawn quietly chuckle to themselves before giving the both of you some privacy. You look up at Hugh and bite your lower lip, eyes lingering on his lips as it moves down the side of his neck, to his chest and down his abdomen and back up.

“You nervous, baby?” Hugh whispers.

“N– No,” you stammer. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

“I don’t even think that’s possible,” he chuckles. “I’m ready for you, love.”

You nod slowly and then open the bottle of oil, squeezing just enough onto your palm. You set the bottle aside and rub your hands together to evenly distribute the oil before you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders, slowly moving them up and down before you move to his chest.

Hugh smirks, flexing his chest for you and he lets out a quiet chuckle when he hears you quietly gasp. “Love feeling your hands on me, baby,” he whispers.

“Stop distracting me,” you tease, pouring just a bit more oil onto your hands before you reach out to spread it along his chest down to his abdomen, feeling each ridge and muscle of his abs. Your hands move dangerously closer to the waistband of his pants, feeling Hugh’s hand immediately dart out to rest on your hip.

“Careful, baby.”

“Just making sure I got everything.” Slowly, you pull away and look at him, his upper half glistening with the oil you just applied. “I think– I think you’re ready to go.”

Hugh smiles and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “Thank you, baby.”

“I miss seeing your eyes,” you point out, motioning towards the cowl that’s placed atop of his head. “But I can’t lie… this is just as good a view.”

Hugh opens his mouth to say something, but hears his name being called by Ryan and Shawn. “Duty calls.”

“Try and get this in one take so you can take me back to the hotel.”

Hugh smirks. “Impatient, aren’t you?”

“Do you see yourself? I’d jump you right here if I could.”

“Naughty girl,” he whispers lowly.

“Hugh!” Ryan calls out. “Come on, buddy. I’m sure she will oil you up soon enough.”

“Go,” you say quietly.

Hugh nods and then turns on his heel to take his place on set.

—

It takes more than one take to complete the scene. After about two and a half bottles of oil and intense sexual tension radiating off you and Hugh, Shawn finally calls cut. Hugh walks over to you and takes the towel from your hands to wipe off the immense amount of oil that’s dripping from him, but he can’t help but watch your eyes ogle him. It always made him feel so special and borderline shy when your eyes linger on him, especially with the way you’re staring at him now.

“Just gotta head back to the trailer and change,” Hugh says. “Then we can go back to the hotel.”

Anticipation courses through your veins as you keep a tight hold on Hugh’s hand, fingers laced together as you walk alongside him. Once at his trailer, Hugh shuts the door and locks it behind him.

Before you can even ask what he’s doing, Hugh turns to face you and removes the cowl to set it aside. His gaze darkens at the sight of you and in just a few strides in your direction, he’s wrapping his strong arms around your waist and lifting you off your feet.

Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and your arms move around his shoulders. Letting out a quiet gasp, Hugh gently rests you on your back against the couch, kneeling on the floor between your legs.

“Hugh, what are you–”

“Been wanting you all day,” he says, his large hands moving to your jeans and undoing the button and zipper of it all too quickly. “Can’t wait anymore.”

“Baby–”

“Shh,” Hugh whispers, tugging your jeans down your legs and tossing the fabric over his shoulder. He looks up at you and then moves his hands to the waistband of your black lace panties, slowly tugging them down your legs as well. Once your lower half is completely exposed for him, Hugh holds your legs apart and growls at the sight of your slickened sex. He leans in and brushes the bridge of his nose against you, hands gripping your legs tightly. “Goddamn, baby. You’re already so wet for me.”

“It was because of all that oil,” you whimper, moving your hands to rest in his hair. “Please…”

“And here I thought you were gonna have your way with me,” he grins, pulling back just enough to brush the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves. Hugh looks up at you, watches you tilt your head back and your eyes fall shut at the lightest of touches.

“Oh, I will,” you groan. “But first, how about you do what you need to do and–”

“So demanding lately,” he grins, leaning in to lick a stripe along your soaking heat. A loud moan escapes your lips and Hugh smiles, pulling away. “Baby, you gotta stay quiet for me. There are still people on set and we can’t have them hearing you, hearing what I’m doing to you.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, nodding and moving your hands from his hair to cover your mouth instead. “I’ll try my best,” you mumble.

“Atta girl,” he praises and leans back in to lap at your juices, your wetness slowly beginning to trickle down his chest. Hugh grips your hips, holding you firmly against the couch as he moves his lips to your clit, flicking his tongue against it as he brings one hand between your legs. Without hesitation, he slides in two fingers as he sucks at your clit, beginning to pump his two digits in and out of your depths.

The sounds of your wetness squelches with each thrust of his fingers and he stares up at you to see how hard you’re trying to stay quiet. He smirks against you and slowly adds a third finger, a loud whimper escaping your lips at the intrusion.

Hugh turns his head and places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh as he leans back, continuing to move his fingers in and out of your depths as he leans over you. With his free hand, he gently removes your own from your mouth and leans in to brush his lips against yours.

“Feel good, baby?” he whispers, keeping his fingers deep within your depths as he begins to curl them inside of you. “Oh yeah, I can feel you trembling…”

You stare up at him, biting your lower lip as you try to hold back your moans. “Hugh, baby…”

“Doing so good for me, staying so quiet,” he grins, his fingers curling inwards as your walls begin to tremble and he knows you’re close. Knows that you’re about to reach a heightened pleasure that he leans in and presses his lips against yours in hopes to quiet your moans.

You reach down and grip his wrist, fingertips digging into his skin as you arch your back. You moan against his lips, feeling his tongue slide past your own and the sensations are just too much, too overwhelming. Hugh pumps his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your climax, slowly pulling away to hold up his fingers in your direction.

“Look how wet you are for me,” he grins.

You look up at him, biting your lower lip as you watch him suck on his fingers, cleaning your slick free from his digits. “Hugh…”

“So fucking good,” he winks.

You’re breathing heavily, but you reach down for his pants and tug on it, seeing the length of his manhood pressing against the yellow fabric. “Take these off.”

Hugh smirks. “Yes, ma’am.” He makes quick work to remove his boots and his pants, kicking them off to the side carelessly. He looks down at himself, his manhood at attention and he settles himself once more between your legs. He holds onto the base of his length and runs his tip across your sex, growling lowly.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he groans.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Being such a good girl, baby,” Hugh smirks, slowly sliding into you in one thrust. He groans at your wetness, your warmth walls surrounding every inch of him. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, pulling his hips back before he slides back in.

“Hugh, I don’t think…” you moan, moving your hands to his shoulders. “I can’t– I can’t stay quiet and–”

“Shh,” he whispers, moving his large hand over your mouth as he delivers a sharp thrust. “Yeah, you can, baby.”

You let out a loud moan, muffled by his hand as you stare up at him. Hugh pulls out to his tip and slides back into you in one thrust, your legs moving to wrap around his waist.

Hugh rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he keeps his hand over your mouth. Your moans and whimpers are muffled by his large hand and with each thrust, he can see the way your eyes flutter. Hugh’s thrusts continue at a rhythmic pace, your walls sliding along each inch and vein of his manhood. You’re so wet, so tight and warm and Hugh knows he can’t keep this up any longer.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna–” Hugh’s hips begin to stutter, but you reach down and push him away from you, causing a loud groan to escape his lips. He’s quick to grasp his manhood to slide back into you, but you shake your head and sit up on the couch, urging him to stand up. “What?”

“I want you to come in my mouth,” you tell him, biting your lower lip. “That’s one way you can keep me quiet.”

Hugh growls and nods, standing up like you asked. He brings a hand down to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your soft skin and gently tucking a fallen strand behind your ear. “Well?”

“Now, who’s impatient, hm?” you grin, reaching up to wrap your hand around his slick coated base as your lips move to his tip. Wrapping your lips around him, you begin to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as your hand strokes the rest of him. You keep your eyes focused on him, watching as he tilts his head back and a hand moves to tangle his fingers into your hair.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, the grip in your tightening as you continue to bob your head in time with your strokes. Hugh can feel the tightness build once again in the pit of his stomach. He looks down at you and groans at the sight, your eyes staring up at him with his cock in his mouth.

God, if he could spend the rest of his days like this, Hugh would die a happy man.

“I’m close, I’m gonna–” Hugh’s voice cuts off as you take him even deeper into your mouth and he can feel the tip of his length hit the back of your throat. He groans loudly and gently brushes your hand away from him as he takes a hold of his base. He strokes himself once, twice, three times before spurts of his come release into your mouth.

You feel his warm spend fill your mouth, a mixture of salty and sweet taste. You swallow it eagerly, slowly bobbing your head as you feel him shudder against you, his hand in your release loosening its grip. When he pulls away, you smile up at him and gently place a soft and light kiss on his tip.

“Did you really just–”

“Swallow?” you finish for him and nod. “Yup… Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Hugh repeats. “Baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

---

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