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pinkpurplesunrises · 18 hours ago

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When the Darkness Felt Endless (You Were the Light I Found)

4500 words - I guess this is a middle long story - Alexia Putellas x Reader - Maybe this will heal the anxiety - Angst and Fluff - Happy ending - Mentions of depression and prostetics - Please read with care.

Writer's note: wow, wow, wow, you are all so kind! Keeps me going when the creative brain hits. Enjoy this piece while I finally get to work work. See you next week.

The headlines had stopped screaming her name. The lights had dimmed. The cheers faded like echoes in a cold, hollow tunnel.

Alexia Putellas sat in the back of her apartment, hood up, body curled into the corner of a couch she barely remembered buying. The only sound was the ticking of a clock she wished she could rip off the wall. Time was still moving. Everything was moving. Except her.

Her knee still ached, even though the doctors said it was healing. But they didn’t see the part that didn’t show up on scans. They didn’t hear the static that buzzed in her head every time she looked at her boots. Or saw the photos she’d flipped face-down.

Everything inside her was sharp edges and shame. And that voice… her own voice, somehow sounding like someone else. It told her this was who she really was: not the leader, not the fighter, not the hero. Just broken.

She hadn’t been outside in days.

And then the knock came.

It wasn’t loud. Just three soft, almost tentative knocks. Like the person on the other side wasn’t sure if anyone would answer. Or wanted to.

She didn’t move.

The knock came again.

“Alexia.” Your voice was gentle, but it carried something heavier underneath. Like you knew. Like you’d been here, too.

She hated that. That you might see her like this.

Why did you see her like this? You are just one of the neighbors.

“I’m not…” she croaked, but her voice cracked like dry wood. “Just go.”

But you didn’t.

“I brought food,” you said. “You can ignore me if you want. I’ll just leave it here.”

Silence.

“I’m coming back tomorrow.”

That night, Alexia sat with the food untouched on the kitchen counter. Staring at the note you left beside it.

You’re not alone.

She hated how much she wanted to believe it.

You kept coming back.

Every day.

Sometimes with food. Sometimes with nothing but silence and that look. The one that said you see her. Not the athlete. Not the legend. Just her. And she couldn’t stand it.

The third day, she opened the door. Only a crack. Just enough for you to see the bruises under her eyes. Not from fists, but from insomnia and tears.

"You don’t have to…" she started.

"I know," you said. No hesitation. "I want to."

She hated that answer.

Because it didn’t make sense.

People only stay when they want something. That’s what her mind told her. That twisted, looping thought she couldn’t shut up.

What did you want?

Whatever it was, she didn’t buy it.

Fame by proximity? A favor? A story to tell your friends. ‘Oh, I saw Alexia Putellas fall apart once. Up close.’

Or maybe you were just like her… sick with guilt and pretending not to be.

Still, she let you inside that night.

You didn’t ask questions. Didn’t push. Just sat on the floor while she stared at the ceiling. And somehow, in the silence, she cracked.

“They keep saying I’ll come back stronger,” she muttered.

You turned to look at her, eyes soft but honest. "And what do you say?"

She laughed. Bitter, low. "That I’m tired of lying.”

There it was.

The truth spilled from her lips like poison. "I don’t even know who I am without football. Without winning. Without people chanting my name. When it’s quiet like this…" she gestured around the dim apartment, “I can’t hear anything except how much I hate myself.”

Your voice didn’t break, but it trembled with understanding. “I know that feeling.”

She studied you for the first time. Really studied you. There was a weight behind your eyes. Not pity, she would’ve shut down if it were pity, but recognition.

You’d been there, too.

“I used to think if I could just do enough, be enough… maybe I’d stop feeling like a burden,” you said. “Turns out you can accomplish everything and still feel like you’re rotting inside.”

A beat passed. She almost stopped breathing.

Because it felt like you were inside her head.

“Why are you here?” she whispered.

“I don’t know. Maybe because when I look at you, I see someone worth saving.” You paused. “And I wish someone had done that for me.”

She turned her face away so you wouldn’t see the tear fall. But she felt your presence, warm and still. Not trying to fix her. Not telling her to “get back up.” Just… there.

The silence between you was heavy, but not suffocating. For the first time in weeks, she didn't feel like she was falling alone.

Later that night, as you left, she murmured it… half asleep, half broken, but clear:

“Luna.”

You turned back. “What?”

“That’s what I’m gonna call you,” she said, voice hoarse. “You’re quiet. But you show up when it’s dark.”

You didn’t reply. But you smiled. And somehow, that smile stayed with her long after the door closed.

One evening, she was distant, colder than before. You noticed it the moment you stepped in. Her eyes avoiding yours. Her body taut like a wire ready to snap.

You became her Luna, the quiet light in her darkest nights.

But even the moon disappears behind clouds.

“Alexia?” you asked softly.

She shook her head, voice sharp and brittle. “I don’t need anyone.”

That cracked something inside you. A fissure that had been growing since you met her. But you held your ground. Refusing to let her slip away.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said.

She laughed but there was no humor. “You don’t understand. Nobody does.”

Her voice broke, just for a second, but that was enough.

“I hate who I’ve become,” she confessed. “The injury, the silence, the empty space where my future used to be. Every time I look in the mirror, I hate her. Hate myself.”

The raw pain in her words stabbed you. You reached out, trembling, to touch her arm.

But she flinched.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “I’m broken.”

You wanted to scream, to shout that she wasn’t. That no one was broken beyond repair. But your voice caught in your throat.

Because you knew this was a battle she had to fight inside herself.

Days passed, and the distance grew. Texts left unread. Calls unanswered.

You tried to respect her space, but the silence swallowed you whole.

One night, your phone lit up, a message from her.

“Go away.”

It was simple. Cold.

You stared at the screen. Heart shattering.

But you didn’t reply.

Instead, you showed up at her door the next morning. No words. Just presence.

After a long moment, she opened the door, eyes red and swollen.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

You shook your head. “You don’t have to apologize for pain.”

Her lips trembled, tears spilling down. “I’m scared you’ll leave. Like everyone else.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Luna stays through the storms.”

And in that fragile moment, between fear and hope, she let you in again.

She never understood why you kept knocking. Why, out of all the faces in the building, it was yours.

The truth was, you’d never spoken more than a handful of words. Maybe five in total. Mostly just glances through half-open doors or hurried nods in the hallway.

Neighbors, not friends. But something kept pulling you to her door.

Tonight was no different.

Another knock. Three soft taps.

Alexia stared at the door like it was a stranger’s, heart pounding unevenly. She had so many questions, none of which she dared voice.

Why her? Why now? Why someone she barely knew. Someone she’d barely looked at?

She wanted to slam the door. Yo shut out the unknown. But her body betrayed her. The door cracked open.

There you stood. No food. No note. Just that steady, quiet presence.

You said nothing, just offered a small, almost hesitant smile.

She wanted to ask, Why? Why do you care?

But words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she looked away.

“It’s ridiculous,” she finally muttered. “You don’t even know me.”

You nodded slowly. “I don’t.”

“But you keep coming back.”

“Yes.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Why?”

You looked down at your hands, then back up… eyes steady.

“Because sometimes, when someone’s breaking in silence, the right thing to do is just... show up. Even if you don’t understand.”

Alexia’s chest tightened.

She hated feeling like a charity case. A project. Someone to be saved. She was a fighter, or she used to be. But now… now she felt like nothing.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said, voice trembling. “You don’t have to be here.”

You stepped a little closer. Still cautious. Still respectful.

“I’m not here because I owe you. I’m here because I see you. And you deserve more than being invisible.”

Her eyes flicked to yours, searching for something. Hope, maybe, or just the truth.

She didn’t know what to say.

So she said nothing.

And in that silence, a fragile understanding settled.

But the walls were still up.

And the healing… if it ever came… was still far away.

You started staying longer.

Never asked to. Never assumed. Just waited. Always waited for her to open the door first.

The first time she left it unlocked, you stood there for a moment. Unsure whether it was an invitation or an accident. But when you knocked softly and she didn’t flinch, you stepped inside.

She was on the floor, back against the couch, legs drawn in. A hoodie swallowed her frame.

No words. Just your breath in the quiet.

You sat down across from her, not too close. The space between you wasn’t distance. It was permission. She needed that.

The silence stretched until it didn’t feel like silence anymore.

Finally, she spoke.

“You live across from me, right?”

You nodded. “End of the hall.”

Her eyes flickered over you, cautious. “How long?”

“About a year.”

She blinked. That long?

“You ever hear me cry?” she asked bluntly.

You didn’t lie. “Sometimes.”

Her jaw tightened. She looked away. “Bet that was pathetic.”

“No,” you said simply.

She didn’t respond, but something in her posture shifted.

You looked down at your hands. “I used to cry like that, too.”

She glanced up. “Used to?”

You hesitated. “Sometimes still do. Just quieter.”

That earned a dry, bitter huff. Not quite a laugh. But not silence either.

Alexia rubbed at her face. Her fingers trembling. “You know... I thought if I lost football, I’d lose everything. Turns out I did.”

“You didn’t lose everything,” you said.

She met your eyes. Sharp, tired, guarded. “What’s left?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You didn’t want to say me. Not yet. Not when she barely let you touch her shadow.

So instead, you said, “Maybe something you haven’t noticed yet.”

Another silence. Heavier this time.

Then she asked, voice low, “What’s your name?”

You gave it to her.

She repeated it quietly, testing the sound. And then... without quite meaning to... she said, “Doesn’t suit you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No?”

She shook her head. “You’re still Luna.”

Your chest ached, but in a good way.

She was letting you in. A little. Enough.

Enough for now.

You didn’t knock.

For the first time in weeks, your knock never came.

The hallway was quiet.

Alexia sat in the dark. Blanket wrapped around her like armor. Phone on the table. Screen blank. No texts. No sounds. Just the ticking again. That clock she still hadn’t taken off the wall.

Her apartment had never felt so empty.

She waited an hour. Then two.

Then three.

Maybe you were busy. Maybe you finally realized she wasn’t worth the effort. She told herself that. Repeated it like a mantra.

This is what people do. They leave. She should be used to it.

But something about your silence was off. Not cruel, not distant. Just… wrong.

So she stood. Pulled on a sweatshirt. Crossed the hallway.

Your door was closed. No sound from inside.

She hesitated.

Then knocked. Once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

Her gut tightened. She knocked again, firmer. “Luna?”

Still nothing.

She didn’t mean to open the door. But it was unlocked, just like hers had been the night she let you in.

She stepped inside.

And stopped.

Your place was dim. Quiet. Lived-in but tidy. And in the far room... she saw the silhouette of you curled up in bed, facing the wall.

“Luna?” Her voice was barely a whisper now.

You didn’t turn.

She walked closer. Slowly. And then she saw it. The empty socket beside the bed. A sleek black prosthetic leg propped against the wall. The skin of your thigh raw and irritated. Like it had fought a battle all day and lost.

You still didn’t turn. But you spoke, voice low and flat. “Didn’t feel like being a person today.”

Alexia blinked. The words were a mirror of everything she’d ever said. Everything she thought only applied to her.

And suddenly, she felt like a thief.

You’d been showing up for her. Over and over. And she’d never once asked if you were hurting too. She never noticed your limp, never questioned your quiet exits. Never even saw the piece of you that was missing. Not really.

She’d been drowning so deeply in herself, she never realized you might be wading through your own hell.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

You turned your head slightly, eyes tired but calm. “Would it have mattered?”

That answer gutted her.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “It would’ve.”

A long silence.

You gave a tired shrug. “It happened years ago. Car accident. I was in the backseat. Some nights I still dream I’m trapped there.”

She sat down beside your bed, not touching you. Just there.

“I used to think I’d never walk again,” you continued. “Then I thought I’d never be loved. Now I just try to get through the day without wanting to disappear.”

Alexia pressed a fist to her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be.”

“No. I am.” Her voice cracked. “You were always there for me. And I never asked about you. I never even looked.”

You glanced at her, lips curling just slightly. “That’s okay. You weren’t supposed to. You were drowning.”

She blinked fast, but tears slipped through anyway.

“I’m tired of drowning,” she said, voice almost inaudible.

Then, softer still: “Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded, just once.

And for the first time, she lay beside you.

No walls. No armor.

Just two broken people, side by side, in the quiet dark.

The morning sunlight filtered softly through your window, painting your room with pale gold.

Today was different.

Today you were getting a new prosthetic leg.

Your first in months.

The one designed to move. To run. To jump. To feel alive again.

You turned to Alexia, heart pounding with something close to hope.

“I have an appointment,” you said quietly. “Physio and the new leg fitting.”

Her eyes flickered, hesitation written in every line of her face.

“I don’t know if...”

You smiled gently. “I want you to come.”

For weeks, she’d barely left her apartment. The shadows clung too tight. The pain was too loud.

But something about your invitation felt different. Not a demand, but a promise.

She nodded slowly, pulling on a jacket she hadn’t touched in days.

Outside, the air was cool and sharp. A fresh contrast to the stale loneliness of her rooms.

You walked side by side. Tentative but steady.

The clinic was bright, bustling with life and the sharp scent of antiseptic.

You tried on the new prosthetic. Lighter, more flexible. And for the first time in months, you felt the thrill of movement.

Alexia watched, eyes wide, a small smile playing at her lips.

On the way back, you both walked a little taller.

And then, unexpectedly, you saw her.

Eli.

Alexia’s mother.

Her face softened at the sight of her daughter stepping out into the sunlight. Not alone but with you. the stranger who had quietly become her lifeline.

“Alexia,” Eli’s voice was gentle but firm, full of the unspoken worry and love only a mother carries. “I’ve been waiting for this day.”

Alexia’s lips trembled as she gave a nod.

Eli turned to you, eyes bright with gratitude. “Thank you for bringing her out.”

You exchanged a glance. Warm and quiet.

For the first time in a long time, hope didn’t feel fragile.

It felt possible.

The days after the clinic visit were quieter but not empty.

Alexia noticed it first in the mornings.

She woke without the usual weight pressing on her chest, the dark thoughts that tangled her mind overnight still there, but softer... distant echoes instead of a roaring storm.

You were part of that change.

Not because you said anything profound.

Not because you tried to fix her.

But because you simply were... a steady presence in a wrld that had felt fractured and cold.

One afternoon, Eli stopped by. She lingered in the doorway. Her eyes warm and kind.

“I see a change,” she said softly.

Alexia shrugged, unsure if she wanted to believe it.

Eli smiled gently. “Sometimes the right person doesn’t just walk into your life. They carry a light you forgot you had.”

That night, you two sat on her small balcony, wrapped in blankets, watching the city lights flicker.

She turned to you, voice quiet.

“You make this... lighter. Like the weight is still there but I can breathe underneath it.”

You reached out, fingers brushing hers briefly.

“That’s enough,” you said.

Alexia smiled, fragile but real.

In the dark, with you beside her, she let herself hope. For the first time in a long time. That maybe. Just maybe. She wasn’t alone.

The knock was soft but deliberate.

You opened the door to find Alexia standing there. A carefully balanced container in her hands.

“I made lunch,” she said, voice a little shy. “Thought you might want some company.”

You stepped aside, letting her in.

The apartment smelled faintly of warmth and effort. Something she hadn’t done in a while.

You ate together, the quiet between bites feeling less like an abyss and more like a space where something new might grow.

After the last forkful, Alexia looked at you, eyes steady.

“I’m going to the training grounds tomorrow,” she said.

Your heart skipped.

“Rehab,” she added quickly. “I’ve decided I can’t stay stuck. And they have staff there of course. Professionals who can help. Maybe even help you, too. With your new leg.”

You blinked, surprised.

“Would you like to come? Start yours together?”

You blinked, surprised.

“I… don’t really have any training clothes,” you admitted shyly, voice small.

Alexia’s lips curved into a proud, teasing smile. “You can wear mine.”

Your heart fluttered in a weird, warm way.

She caught your glance and laughed softly. “I’m serious. You’re going to need something comfortable. Besides, it’s about time I share more than just my pain.”

The morning sun spilled through the windows as you both prepared for the day ahead.

Alexia handed you a loose-fitting sweatshirt and sweatpants. Her training clothes, worn but clean.

You hesitated, fingers brushing the fabric. Feeling a strange flutter in your chest.

“You sure?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a mixture of pride and encouragement in her eyes. “Absolutely. It’s a start. We start together.”

The walk to the training grounds was quiet at first. Neither of you knew exactly what to say, or how to act.

You noticed the way Alexia kept glancing at you. Maybe nervous. Maybe hopeful.

When you arrived, the clinic staff greeted you warmly. Ushering you both into the rehab area.

The room was filled with equipment: parallel bars, treadmills, balance boards. A physical world of challenge and possibility.

You fumbled with the new prosthetic leg, its unfamiliar weight strange against your skin.

Alexia stood beside you, silently offering support.

“Ready?” she asked, voice soft but steady.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Your first steps were awkward and uneven. The prosthetic didn’t quite feel like part of you yet, and your muscles screamed with unfamiliar effort.

Alexia’s own movements were cautious. Shadows of hesitation flickering in her eyes.

But neither of you gave up.

The physiotherapist guided you gently. Adjusting your posture. Encouraging you.

Between attempts, Alexia reached out, squeezing your hand briefly. A small anchor in the uncertainty.

You caught her gaze, and in that moment, words weren’t necessary.

Hours passed in a blur of effort and quiet triumphs.

By the end, you were both exhausted but smiling. The first genuine smiles in a long time.

On the walk home, Alexia slipped her hand into yours.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” you asked.

“For coming. For staying.”

Your heart swelled.

When you stopped outside her building. The world seemed to pause.

Alexia looked up at you. Eyes searching. Vulnerable.

Slowly, she leaned in and your lips met in a soft, trembling kiss.

It was hesitant. A question and an answer all at once.

The kind of kiss that promises more than words ever could.

When you finally pulled apart, neither of you spoke.

But the quiet between you now held something new.

Hope.

And the beginning of something real.

A few weeks had passed since that day at the training grounds.

You and Alexia were officially together now. Girlfriends, as she’d said once. Shy but sure.

Most days, you found yourself spending hours in her apartment. The place that had once felt like a prison but was slowly becoming home.

Today, you two tackled the chaos of her room. Clothes piled on the floor. Unopened letters. And the shadows that still lingered in the corners.

You laughed quietly as you worked side by side. The easy comfort between you growing.

Later, she mentioned dinner at her mother’s.

“You’ll finally meet my mamá properly,” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“And my sister,” she added with a smile.

Your heart fluttered, nerves bubbling up. Meeting family felt like a big step. But one you were ready for.

Before you left, you needed to freshen up.

Alexia’s shower was small, built before your accident, not quite made for someone like you.

You hesitated at the bathroom door, voice trembling. “I… might need some help.”

She looked up. Surprise flickering in her eyes.

You’d never seen each other quite like this. Vulnerable, exposed.

But Alexia didn’t hesitate.

She stepped inside, gentle hands steadying you as the warm water glided over your skin. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you close in the tight, steamy space.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly against your ear, her voice trembling with something raw and real. “Thank you for pulling me out of the dark.”

You leaned into her, heart pounding, feeling the weight of those words settle between you like a promise.

When you finally emerged, clean and steady, Alexia smiled softly.

“You’re beautiful,” she said simply.

You blushed, heart full.

Tonight, you’d meet her family.

But for now, wrapped in the warmth of each other, you felt ready for anything.

It still felt surreal. This place was yours and Alexia’s now.

A modest one-floor home nestled in a peaceful neighborhood, spacious enough for dreams and laughter and the quiet moments you both craved.

Boxes sat unpacked in the corners, a testament to new beginnings, but the walls already hummed with the promise of life unfolding.

Today was special.

Alexia had a match.

Her first game back after months of grueling rehab, of rebuilding not just her body but her spirit.

You could see the nervous energy radiating off her as she laced up her boots. Her eyes sharp but filled with a fragile hope.

Her mother was coming with you to watch. Her presence a steady, loving force that somehow made the day feel lighter.

The stadium buzzed with anticipation as you found your seats.

The whistle blew, and she was off.

Watching her move with fierce determination. The joy of the game shining through the sweat and effort, made your heart swell.

Each pass, each sprint, each goal attempt was a testament to her fight. Not just to return, but to reclaim.

Eli beside you smiled softly, whispering, “She’s stronger than ever.”

After the final whistle, you met Alexia outside the locker room, her face flushed. Breathless. Radiant.

“You did it,” you said, pulling her close.

She laughed, a sound of pure relief and triumph.

“We did it,” she corrected, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

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Writer's note: your thoughts about this one?

#woso community #woso writers #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #fc barcelona femeni x reader #woso imagine #my long story #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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kikiiidym · 2 days ago

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The Spark That Shattered Us

Warnings!: Burn injury, emotional trauma, shouting, Leo loses control. Pairing!: Leo Valdez x reader A/N!: Angst & Hurt

It started with silence.

The kind that crawls between two people who love each other but can’t seem to stop hurting one another. The kind of silence that comes after too many ignored conversations, too many half-swallowed truths.

And Leo had been ignoring you for days.

You waited outside Bunker Nine as the sun began to set behind Half-Blood Hill, arms crossed over your chest, fighting the chill in the wind. Leo had locked himself inside again. For hours. No food, no messages, just the clank of metal and the low hum of welding magic.

You weren’t mad that he needed space. You were mad because he never told you why.

When the bunker door finally groaned open, he looked exhausted. Soot smeared across his jaw, goggles pushed back into his wild hair, and those bright brown eyes—usually so full of mischief—looked dull and hollow.

“Leo,” you said carefully, stepping forward, “we need to talk.”

He didn’t even stop walking. “Not now.”

You moved to block him. “Then when? When you’ve built another invention to keep yourself distracted? When you’ve ignored me for another week? I’m not going to just sit around waiting for you to fall apart in silence!”

He stopped. His jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” you snapped. “You think I can’t see it? The way you haven’t slept. How you flinch when someone touches your shoulder. How you’ve been shutting me out ever since the Typhon mission—Leo, I know you. You’re breaking, and you won’t even let me in.”

He scoffed, a bitter little laugh under his breath. “You don’t know anything, okay? Just drop it, would you?”

“I won’t! You keep pretending everything’s fine when you’re spiraling, Leo! You think if you just smile and build enough machines, it'll keep the nightmares away?”

He looked at you then. And something in him cracked.

“You don’t get it,” he said, voice low and dangerous, the way a storm is quiet right before it breaks. “You don’t get what it’s like to be me. To have fire crawling under your skin all the time. To be afraid of your own hands.”

Your breath caught. “Leo—”

“I killed my mom.”

The words hung in the air like poison. You knew the story, but he’d never said it out loud to you. Not like that. Not with that look in his eyes—like he was still that little boy, kneeling in a burning house with flames licking his fingers.

“I was eight,” he continued, voice rising, shaking. “She screamed my name and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t control it. And every time I lose it—even for a second—I see her. I hear her scream. And now you—you keep pushing me like I’m made of steel and not glass on the edge of breaking—”

“I’m not trying to push you,” you whispered, heart pounding. “I’m trying to love you.”

“I didn’t ask for that!” he shouted. “I didn’t ask for you to try and fix me! I’m not some broken project for you to tinker with!”

You recoiled like he’d slapped you. The words cut deep.

“I never said you were broken,” you said, voice trembling. “But you don’t get to yell at me for caring.”

“I didn’t want you to care!” he yelled, throwing his arms out in frustration. “Because one day I’m going to screw up—really screw up—and I don’t want you to be close enough to get hurt when I do!”

And then, the mistake.

You stepped forward. Reaching for him. Tears in your eyes.

“Leo, I’m not afraid of you—”

He flinched backward, snapping, “I said stay back!”

And the fire burst out of him.

You didn’t even have time to scream. The flame ripped through the air like a dragon’s breath, wild and violent and desperate. Heat washed over you, knocked you off your feet. The pain didn’t come right away—not until the adrenaline ran out.

Then it hit.

Your arm. Your side. Your neck. Skin blistering, fabric melting.

You hit the ground hard. Gasping.

Leo stood frozen. His fire sputtered and died.

You were crying—not sobbing, but the kind of tears that come from raw, shocked pain. Your hand trembled as you touched your neck, came away with skin peeling and blackened cloth.

He dropped to his knees beside you.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, panic overtaking him. “Nonononono—no. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I—I was just—I didn’t even aim—I wasn’t thinking—”

“I know,” you said, your voice cracking. “You weren’t thinking about me at all.”

Leo’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m so sorry. Please—please don’t hate me.”

The wind howled through the trees. Somewhere far off, campers laughed by the lake, completely unaware of the devastation just wrought in front of Bunker Nine.

You curled inward, trying not to sob as your body throbbed in waves of searing pain. “I trusted you,” you whispered.

He couldn’t touch you. He couldn’t do anything.

All the fire in the world, and he was helpless.

He rocked back on his heels, breathing hard, chest heaving. Tears carved trails through the soot on his face. He stared at his hands like they were foreign. Like they belonged to a monster.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispered. “I swear on the Styx, I never wanted to—”

But you didn’t answer.

Because love wasn’t supposed to burn. And Leo Valdez— Leo burned.

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coffeebanana · 7 months ago

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*screams incoherently about arcane*

#arcane #arcane s2 #arcane spoilers #I JUST FINISHED PART 2 OF THIS SEASON AND. AKJSFBSKJDBFD #JINX IS GONNA HATE VI SO MUCH FOR SAVING HER CAUSE SHE COULDN'T SAVE ISHA AND I KNEW ISHA WAS GONNA DIE AS SOON AS SHE SHOWED #UP AND STARTED FOLLOWING JINX AROUND AND. AKJDBFGKSJBGKJBSDFKJBDKJGF #I WAS NOT EMOTIONALLY PREPARED FOR THE DEVASTATION OF JINX AND VI MAKING UP ONLY TO HAVE IT RIPPED APART AGAIN #LIKE. I KNEW IT WOULD BE RIPPED APART WHEN THEY STARTED GETTING CLOSE I KNEW IT COULDN'T LAST #BUT KAJSFBKJBFKSJBDKJBSFKBSDKJFBSDKBJSKDBJGKSBD #I WASN'T EXPECTING THE REUNION AT ALL #THE EMOTIONAL DEVASTATION #GOD. GOD #IF ANYONE SEES GOOD FICS ABOUT THIS CONFLICT... PLS.... I NEED....

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daddyjackfrost · 1 month ago

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Lost in The Wild ; B. Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!F!Reader

Synopsis: It was supposed to be an easy mission. In and out. But then communication went out. The intel became useless. The weather turned horrific. Bucky lost his gun. And then, you.

Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn, friends to lovers, horrible weather, blood, injuries, yearning, cursing, Ft. Sam, Steve, and Natasha, SMUT, p in v, oral (f rec.), kissing, praise, MDNI, unprotected sex, brief crying, they’re so in love your honor, down!bad bucky, lmk if I missed any! WC: 12.9k

A/N: First ever Bucky post! It’s been years since I’ve written on this account so have mercy on me. Thank you to all the wonderful writers on here that are so talented and inspiring. As for timeline… I don’t know. Canon? What canon? Comments & Reblogs are appreciated!

The rain had been coming down in sheets for hours. Not the kind that offered relief or clarity—no, this was brutal, heavy rain, the kind that blurred the edges of the world and made the earth itself hostile. It was the kind that soaked you to the bone, made every step a battle, and turned even the most solid ground into something slippery, a trap waiting to swallow you whole.

The terrain had started off rocky, already a pain in the ass. Sharp crags jutted out from the hillsides like broken bones. Narrow passes that barely fit a single person had suddenly become rivers of slick mud and falling debris. Visibility was horrible and comms were patchy at best, and then they were gone entirely—just static and silence, the kind that settled into your chest and made it difficult to think straight.

Bucky’s boots sank with every step, the mud sucking greedily at the soles, threatening to pull him under. His jaw was clenched tight, his vibranium arm flexing and twitching as adrenaline surged through him. He was briefly glad that he had cut his hair and didn’t have to worry about strands on his face. A small feat, but a significant one. The cold bit through his tactical gear, but he barely felt it. All he could focus on was the silence in his ear.

Your voice, gone.

One second, you were right behind him—mud on your face, grinning like an idiot, breathless and half-laughing about the total bullshit of intel you both had been fed. He had grunted and told you to stay close.

Then, the world cracked open.

A landslide tore through the ridge, and before he could grab you, before he could warn you—before he could even think–you were gone in a roar of earth and stone and rain.

He screamed your name. Loud, desperate. Absolutely no care as to who may have heard. He screamed once more, the rain slapping harshly against his skin.

There had been nothing. No response. Just the sound of the storm ripping the world apart.

Now, he was moving blind and completely alone. Mud covered his hands, smeared across his cheek, soaked into his skin and clothes. His rifle had been torn from him earlier and his sidearm was somewhere in a ravine miles back, lost in the chaos. All he had now was a combat knife and fear—chewing through his chest at an incomprehensible rate.

In the distance, he could hear the screams of the Hydra agents. Some had been swept away when you had been and the others were trying to hold on, trying to find him and survive. He silently prayed that another landslide, something horrific, would wipe them out.

He knew that the bunker had been emptied. He stumbled upon it when he began looking for you and had been tempted to go in, try and get some help. But he needed to find you, first. He had turned around and hadn’t looked back.

He tripped over a root, hit the ground hard, and didn’t even flinch. Just pushed himself back up, spit blood, and kept moving. He had to find you.

He had to find you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice rough and low, throat raw.

“Focus. Come on.”

Every snapped twig, every distant sound—he turned to it like a live wire. He felt like an animal, something manic, as he listened for any sound of you. Hope and terror felt the same now as his heart beat too fast. He was distantly aware that his hands were shaking, and not from the cold.

You were out there somewhere. For a split second, he let his mind wander. You could have been crushed—dead.

No. No, he couldn’t think like that. He blinked once, harshly, before shoving all those horrible thoughts to the back of his mind, where he kept all the bad.

You were smart. Deadly. He knew that. He knew you were better than most people–most soldiers–he’d ever worked with. But even the best had limits and you were human. Flesh, bleeding, breakable.

He squeezed his eyes shut. You had looked so small as you disappeared into the landslide. He couldn’t get the picture out of his mind, of the way your eyes had briefly widened and your lips had parted. His tortuous mind wondered if you would have called out for him.

It didn’t matter, he decided. He hadn’t acted fast enough, hadn’t caught you. He didn’t even realize he was whispering your name again until it broke in his throat.

“Where the fuck are you?”

Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the twisted trees and gnarled terrain. He whipped his head around, trying to look for anything, then, he caught the shimmer of something. He wasn’t sure if it was metal or blood but he moved fast. Slipped once, hard, landed on his knees again but didn’t stop. His hands clawed through the mud, his breathing loud and ragged.

Then—there. In the shadow of a fallen tree, half-covered in mud and leaves and blood, was you.

Your body was twisted awkwardly, like you’d been thrown by the force of the slide. One arm cradled to your chest. Cuts littered your face, lips split, blood soaking into your torn-up gear. There was a deep gash along your side—too deep—and your eyes were half-lidded, fluttering like you were waiting to let go.

Bucky tore through the mud, pulled and stretched his torn muscles and dropped beside you with a choked breath. His hands hovered over your body, not touching yet. Not sure where it was safe. Not sure if he could bear to feel how cold you were.

His fingers twitched, and he bit down roughly on his bottom lip to prevent the wounded sound that almost left his throat at the sight of you. Your eyes fluttered once more before gently shutting. “Hey—hey, no,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Don’t you fucking dare. Open your eyes, doll.”

His warm breath brushed against your cheek and your lips twitched, a shallow breath escaping. You willed your eyes to open, even if it was just for a moment.

“Barnes…”

He nearly collapsed from the sound of your voice. It was quiet, weaker than he’d ever heard it or wanted too, but it was there.

Relief hit him like a truck and he moved closer to you, but it didn’t fix anything. You were still bleeding, still barely breathing. He could feel the tremble in your body as your fingers brushed against his sleeve like you were checking if he was real. He pressed his arm closer to you, finding brief comfort in the way you squeezed his skin.

It was the first time he had felt warmth in the last three hours.

“Alright, I got you,” he whispered, lips trembling from the cold. “I’ve got you now, okay?” His voice was low, rough, tight with something he couldn’t name. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/n. Just—just stay with me, yeah?’

You tried your best to nod but everything felt too heavy and you were too weak so you simply hummed and he almost choked at the sound. He pushed the tree off of you, murmuring softly when you groaned in pain.

“I know, I know, just a second, doll.”

He breathed in deeply before he crouched down and scooped you up, carefully, like you’d shatter if he breathed wrong. His arms and body were solid beneath you like he hadn’t suffered similarly, like he wasn’t injured. You hissed in pain but your arms naturally curled weakly around his neck. At the moment, you trusted him more than anything. More than the pain, than your own body.

Bucky held his breath and kept his eyes ahead, knowing that if he made eye contact with you like this, all broken and bleeding in his arms, he’d crumble. He tightened his grip on your body when your eyes shut and pressed his chin into your hair.

“Open ‘em, doll,” he muttered. “Come on. Please.”

You tried, but your head felt heavy so you dug your fingernails into his neck instead. His hold on you tightened even further as he ran, rain striking down, harshly and unforgiving. The temperature was dropping rapidly and he knew he had to get you somewhere dry, somewhere he could take a look at all your injuries.

By some miracle, and he would later pray about it, he found shelter not far from the ridge–a cave. He remembered seeing it during the initial scope of the terrain, during the mission brief. You had joked about it, something stupid about him retreating into the cave for a nap. He laughed—or, he thinks he did. He wished he had.

He’d kill a man to hear your laugh right now.

The cave was barely more than a dent in the mountain—narrow and damp, carved into the rock like the earth itself had given up trying to stay solid. The wind howled outside, slicing through the trees and screaming through the cracks in the stone. Rain still battered the world, relentless in its fall.

He had to crawl to get inside with you in his arms.

The stone scraped his knees, his elbows. His back ached from how he curled around your body to shield you from the worst of it. He didn’t stop, barely felt it. All he saw was the blood soaking through your clothes. You were shivering, lips blue, breathing unevenly. A faint wheeze escaped with each breath, and even in sleep, your brows were pinched in pain.

Once he was deep enough, he laid you gently on the stone floor. Bucky knelt beside you, soaked through, hands shaking. His face was drawn tight, teeth clenched so hard his jaw clicked. Rain still dripped from the ends of his hair, trailing down his neck, his face, soaking into his torn shirt. His fingers were red and brown, a deep maroon that he had painted with before.

He blinked down at your unmoving body and clenched his fists. He could barely think straight with his heart beating out of his chest so he breathed in deeply and flipped the switch, the one he hadn’t used in years. The one that turned him into a machine. That buried softness and kindness and everything he didn’t deserve to feel beneath layers of instinct and orders and purpose.

He was a soldier. You needed a soldier. You needed him to be smart, tactful.

He peeled his jacket off and wrung the water out, laying it beside you. He scooped your unconscious body gently and laid you down on his jacket. He cut away the arms with shaking fingers and wrapped them around your side, trying to stop the bleeding.

He looked through his field kit, whatever was left of it, to find something, anything, that he could use to put some part of you back together. He used the wipes to clean the blood and dirt off your face, sanitized your cuts as best as he could before he plastered on the bandaids. His fingers pressed against your skin, once, twice, and then he pulled away like you had burned him.

He pulled his belt free and used it to tighten the splint he’d carved for your arm out of his remaining gear. He moved with precision, detachment—like you were just another asset, but his hands trembled when they brushed your cheek and he hated it. Hated how you made him feel even when you were barely conscious, when he was trying inexplicably hard not too.

“Come on, Y/n,” he breathed out. “Open your eyes.” He curled his hands into your body, trying to stop the tremors. He’s not sure he’d be reacting like this if it were anyone else. He doesn’t even want to entertain the thought, because the conclusion is one he can’t face. You’re his partner, his teammate. You laughed at his terrible jokes sometimes. Shared your food with him when he forgot to eat. You always waited until he got on the jet before calling it in, like you had to make sure he wouldn’t get left behind.

You weren’t his, weren’t anything. He shouldn’t be shaking like this, blinking rapidly like if he focused real hard, this battered version of you would be replaced by the you he knew. But he knew your laugh. The sound of your footsteps. The way your eyes sometimes lingered on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. You mattered to him, which was so much worse.

And now you were bleeding out in a cave that stank of moss and wet rot, and he couldn’t even fucking stop shaking. He didn’t have the right materials or any way to contact Steve or Sam. He felt useless, which is just another thing he hated about himself at the moment.

He stood up slowly, recognizing the familiar aches in his body, already mapping the bruises and new scars he knew littered his body. He had to get a fire started, had to get you and himself warm, so he scanned the area for a completely dry place before he dropped to his knees, fumbling through his kit. The cotton lining of his gloves—dry enough. He tore it out with his teeth, rolling it into a crude nest with shaking hands. He shoved it beneath a wedge of dry bark he’d peeled from the heartwood of a split branch, praying the core was dry enough to catch.

The first strike of flint against steel sparked nothing. The second—nothing. He swore, then coughed, the sound raw. His hands were still trembling.

Third strike. A spark jumped.

It kissed the cotton and died.

He closed his eyes. Again.

Fourth strike. Fifth.

A breath. A tremble. A single ember caught—barely a glow, a flicker like a dying star. He hunkered over it, shielding it from the damp air with his body, and blew—gently, desperately, his breath ragged. The ember pulsed. It grew.

It flared.

Tiny flames licked the shredded cotton, then the bark.

Heat.

He nearly sagged with relief as the fire cracked to life, light dancing against the slick cave walls. His hands hovered over it, aching, blistered with cold. He gave himself a moment, a single moment to enjoy the heat before he crawled to you and gently pulled you closer to the fire, close, but not too close. He didn’t want to risk it.

His fingers moved over your temple, gently checking the wound there. You flinched and Bucky almost sighed in pained relief. At least you weren’t unconscious. Just sleeping. He could deal with that. His fingers scraped gently against ripped skin and you flinched again, a broken sound leaving your throat.

He froze before his thumb brushed your eyebrow. He blinked once at the action before he snapped at himself, standing up so fast he smacked his shoulder against the cave ceiling. Pain rippled through his back and he lurched forward, clutching his left arm.

He fell to his knees, coughing. The sound echoed and for a moment, it truly felt like his own personal hell. He looked down and grimaced at the blood. He had yet to take a moment and analyze his own injuries, but he knew there was no point. Whatever it was, he’d survive, and you…you may not. He had to focus on you.

He wiped his mouth and stripped off what was left of his shirt, wet and freezing, and crouched beside you again, lifting your body into his lap to wrap his arms around you. Your temperature was dropping and there had been pregnant pauses where you had stopped shivering.

He didn’t like what that may mean.

You were limp against him, your face tucked under his chin, breath fanning across his throat. He could feel every line of you—every bruise, every tremble. He murmured a soft apology when his arm accidentally grazed the gash in your side. The fire’s orange hues danced across your skin and he watched carefully, momentarily awed.

You were alive, he had to remember that. He was rocking back and forth like he had forgotten.

“I didn’t mean to lose you,” he whispered, barely audible over the raging storm outside. “I should have kept you in front of me. Watched your back, instead of you watching mine.”

His hold on you tightened and he released a small breath when you pressed your nose into his throat. “I could have grabbed you, kept you from falling…”

His voice cracked and he pressed his mouth to the top of your head, breathing you in like a man starved. All he could do now was wait, wait for your body temperature to rise, wait for you to wake up.

He hated waiting.

The cave was wet, and water dripped steadily from the ceiling into the puddles forming near the entrance. The air smelled like steel and earth and his knees ached from the cold rock floor, his back stiff from how tightly he held you.

All he could do was ignore all the feelings that threatened to crawl through his chest by thinking about next steps. When you were awake, able to move, he knew that getting in contact with Steve or Sam was going to be difficult, but it needed to be done.

Briefly, his mind flashed to the bunker. Hydra had kept it a secret but SHIELD had found out, as it sometimes did. It should have been an easy mission, in-and-out, but as reachable as everything sometimes seemed, the weather had always been untameable, with a mind of its own.

Still, while they had prepared for it, no one had expected it to get this bad. Even now, the storm raged wildly outside. The sound of it was both anxiety-inducing and welcomed, background noise he hadn’t asked for but didn’t mind.

While your breathing slowly evened out, he pressed you closer to his body and angled you closer to the fire and shut his eyes.

You woke to the sound of breathing.

Not yours—his. Measured. Steady. Like he was forcing every inhale calmly, despite its aggression.

Your head was on his shoulder. His hand was on your thigh, warm and still. The cave was still cold and dark but the fire offered welcome heat and glow. Everything inside you ached—bones and skin all stiff and frozen, some cracked and some bruised.

You stirred slightly, a soft movement of your chin. Bucky felt it, he had listened closely as your breathing changed and your muscles shifted.

“Bucky…” Your throat was hoarse, lips dry. You were still pressed against him, his hands warm and solid, holding you together.

He didn’t answer at first. Just a small movement of his shoulder.

Then he exhaled hard. “We’re moving.”

The softness from before—his trembling hands, the whisper of your name, that broken honesty in his words and body—was gone. Replaced by that rigid, sharp-jawed version of him you’d only seen in combat or when he was forced to engage with strangers. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring toward the mouth of the cave like the storm may break in at any second.

You slowly nodded, your nose brushing against the skin of his throat. His throat bobbed before his hold on you loosened just a fraction.

“I can walk,” you rasped, words muffled as you tried to sit up.

Instantly, Bucky’s arms around you tightened. “No, you can’t.”

You tried again, “I can—”

“You can’t.” His voice cut like a blade, a little throaty and gruff. “Your ribs are unstable. Your shoulder’s fucked, and the gash on your side will rip open any second. You’re not getting back up.” He exhaled. “I’m not risking it.”

Instead of answering right away, you slowly wiggled your fingers and toes, trying to get feeling back in them. After a moment, you lifted your head off his shoulder and groaned in pain, wincing when your unused muscles moaned in pain.

“Hey, fuck,” Bucky’s exterior slipped for a second and he looked panicked, one hand on your good shoulder and the other on your arm, trying to offer some support. “Be careful.” He helped you slip off his lap, hand on your back—warm, solid, pulsing.

Once you were sitting up straight, Bucky leaned back on his heels, one hand subtly reached out towards you in case you needed him.

You swallowed hard and blinked away the exhaustion in your eyes. “Where are we going?”

“I’ve got a plan.” His tone was clipped, controlled. Every word chosen to shut you down before you could argue. You could tell by his stiff shoulders and the way he refused to look at you that he wasn't to be reasoned with right now.

Still, you had to try. “Bucky, look at me.”

He froze, kept his eyes on the floor. For a second, you thought he’d listen. You just needed to see him. Needed to hear everything his eyes had to say. Instead, he shook his head.

Bucky stood, already pulling his remaining gear together—knives, makeshift medkit, the remnants of his utility belt. He moved like a machine, like he’d mapped the next twenty steps and was already living in them.

You watched him carefully, watched his body and the stretch of his muscles. By his movements alone, you knew he had injured his leg a bit, perhaps a sprain. His ribs hurt, probably bruised. He hadn’t cleaned himself up, not like he had you. There was still mud and blood on his face but it did little to hide his exhaustion, the frustration that had etched into his skin.

Remnants of his soft whispers, his delicate touch still danced across your skin and you locked them away, kept them close to your heart as you came to terms with this version of him. You wanted him to look at you.

He rolled his shoulders once, picked up his jacket, now warm, and slipped it on before he knelt in front of you.

“This is gonna hurt.” His arms slid under your knees and shoulders, lifting you like it was nothing. But you could see the strain on his muscles. “Try not to pass out.” He slowly maneuvered you until you were draped across his back, legs and arms locked around him to the best of your ability.

You gritted your teeth, breath catching as pain stabbed down your side and back. You didn’t fight him—couldn’t, because his body was warm and solid against yours, still slightly soaked through, even trembling slightly beneath the weight of everything he wasn’t saying.

You wanted to thank him, wanted to tell him to take a moment for himself, knowing he must have spent hours just taking care of you, but you also knew better. Knew that you both had to get out of this storm.

You pressed your face into his neck as he bent to crawl out the cave. His knees and hands scraped against the rough, cold floor and you winced for him. He said nothing as his hold on your waist tightened and he stepped out into the storm.

The cold slapped you both in the face. The wind cut sideways through the trees. The rain had turned the world into a mess of slick rock and rotting leaves and ankle-deep mud. Bucky moved like he had done this a hundred times, like he had spent hours analyzing the terrain and perfected where to step.

You didn’t speak as he carried you down the ridge, every muscle in his body tense with focus. He didn’t look at you once, even when you had hissed in pain. His jaw was locked, veins tight in his neck, eyes scanning every inch of his surroundings. The rain and mixture of leaves slapped against his face. Instinctively, you wiped his cheek clean.

You didn’t recognize the path he was taking. It wasn’t toward the evac point—not unless he’d circled back, which didn’t make sense in this terrain or weather. You stretched your neck, trying not to pay attention to the coldness that seeped into your bones. His fingers tightened under your thighs.

“Where are we going?” You asked, lips brushing against his ear.

He hesitated for just a second. “The bunker.”

You lifted your head weakly, eyes wide. “The Hydra bunker?”

“There’s a comms room. Secure line. I can tap into SHIELD frequencies. Get a ping out.”

He really had thought about this. You frowned, the thought of Bucky holding you in that cave, his mind running rampant as he kept you alive, circled in your mind.

“But it’s full of—”

“It’s empty,” he said, with certainty that chilled you. “I already scoped it. Before I found you.”

“You—” You blinked, once, twice, and then leaned your head over his shoulder, trying to understand him. “What?”

“I saw it when I was looking for you. It was empty. I was going to go call and wait for help, but I turned around.”

You stared at him. Logically, you knew that made sense. If he had called for help, maybe neither of you would be in this situation. But, a small, twisted part of you frowned.

“You were going to leave me,” you whispered, even though you knew it wasn’t true. He had just said that he turned around and he did find you. But he could have taken longer, or not come to find you at all if he had been ordered not to.

Bucky finally turned his head and met your eye. And, there it was—something breaking loose in his face, just for a second, like the very thought you just had, had been eating away at him. “I was going to get help. But I knew I had to find you. So, I did.”

You looked away, chest tight, heart fluttering with something unexplainable.

He didn’t speak again.

It took an hour to reach the edge of the treeline. An hour of silence, mud, and Bucky’s unyielding grip around your trembling body. Every step he took was a choice, to not panic, not spiral, not let himself fall into the noise that threatened to tear his mind and heart apart.

He needed to stay sharp and diligent. You were depending on him.

So, when he saw the crumbling silhouette of the Hydra compound through the trees—half-collapsed, rotting into the ground—he didn’t hesitate, just kept walking.

“We’re close,” he muttered, and set you down gently behind a fallen log, hidden beneath wet pine boughs. His hand gripped your thigh and his finger curled under your chin, tilting your head so you could meet his eyes.

“Stay here. No matter what.”

“Bucky—”

He dropped his hand and pulled his knife from his side holster, checking the edge. “One of them might still be in there. I’ll handle it.” He pointed the knife at the ground. “Do not try and help me.”

You sighed. “You don’t have to—”

“I do.” His voice was rough now. Not angry, but final. An edge to it that resembled the very sharpness of the blade in his hand. “I’ll come back for you.”

He looked at you one more time. Let his eyes meet yours for a moment before they travel the length of your body, pausing at your side.

Then he was gone.

The forest swallowed him whole.

You waited, every breath sharp in your chest. You were drenched, hair sticking to skin. Rain pattered softly on the leaves above you. Your hands trembled in your lap. You hated the way your body felt like a prison—useless, aching, broken. Hated that you couldn’t follow him.

You had been through worse, had survived so much worse. You could have helped him, could have stood on your own if you really had to.

Bucky made it so you didn’t have to. You didn’t know how you felt about that, about him.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Or, so you guessed.

Then, you heard it. A single, muffled thud. A body. There had been someone in there.

But then came nothing else. Just silence.

The underbrush shifted and he reappeared, soaked and stone-faced, blood drying on his knife and on his neck. You didn’t ask, didn’t have to. He was breathing more heavily, slowly, and you knew his injuries had worsened.

He was a super soldier, but he wasn’t immortal.

Bucky knelt beside you, eyes meeting yours briefly before scanning the sky through the trees. “I got through. Signal’s weak, but I managed to reach Steve. They’re getting the jet in the air.”

You reached out, fingers grazing his wrist. He didn’t look at you and didn’t pull away either. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife and you slowly pried it from his hands, tossing it beside you.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said softly. It was so quiet, like you weren’t meant to hear it.

He barely acknowledged what he said and you decided that he didn’t know he had said it, pretended like the words didn’t make you freeze, remind you of him in the cave, feeling and talking to you like he had already lost you.

You sat shoulder-to-shoulder as you both waited for the quinjet.

The warmth of your bodies pressed together reminded you strangely of home.

The extraction was supposed to feel like relief.

But to Bucky, it felt like exposure—too loud, too bright, too late.

The quinjet split the sky open with its roar, cutting through the clouds like a blade. Trees bent under the force of the rotors. Wind tore through the clearing. And all Bucky could do was hold onto you tighter, shielding your body from the chaos and branches like his own didn’t matter.

Sam was the first down the ramp. Steve right behind him. Both armed, both scanning for threats.

Bucky didn’t speak at first, just waited until Sam looked over at him, then stood up, his leg pressed against your back for stability.

“She’s critical,” he yelled, voice flat. “Bruised ribs, busted shoulder, hypothermic, and infection risk.” You looked at him, eyes wide. “She’s lost too much blood.”

Steve’s eyes flicked over both of you—your limp body, Bucky’s slashed and bloodied arm, the bruises blooming across both of your cheeks. He didn’t ask questions, just nodded. “Let’s move.”

A medic stepped forward with a stretcher. Bucky stepped in front of them like a wall. “Be careful.” You almost smiled. The medic—young, wide-eyed—nodded quickly. You slipped your hand into his and fingers curled around your hand.

Bucky helped you onto the stretcher, murmured something soft when you winced in pain. He didn’t let go of your hand until they forced him to.

Sam and Steve watched closely as Bucky followed right beside the stretcher, matching their steps, never more than an inch away. His jaw was locked, eyes burning. You reached out for him again and he took your hand in his.

You turned to the medic and pulled Bucky closer. “He’s injured,” you rushed out. “Badly. His leg, ribs, and arms.” Bucky tried cutting you off but you squeezed his hand. “Shut up, Barnes.”

The medic stared at you both and you blinked slowly. “Treat him, okay? Don’t listen to him. Listen to me.” You smiled softly, trying to ease the tension between the poor, young medic’s shoulders. “Talk to Steve if he complains.”

“Y/n,” Bucky muttered, “I’m fine.”

The quinjet lifted, slicing up through the trees.

You passed out again before they hit altitude.

The world returned slowly.

A dull ache in your side, your chest. The sterile scent of disinfectant. The rhythmic beep of a heart monitor.

And then, warmth.

A heavy hand around yours. Thumb brushing back and forth in a pattern you could feel in your bones, something soft and ingrained.

You recognized the weight, the press of skin. You blinked, the ceiling fuzzy above you, mouth dry.

“Buck?”

His head snapped up from where it had been resting on his forearm. His eyes were bloodshot. His stubble had grown into something darker, rougher. His hair was a mess, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in centuries.

You tried to smile, muscles groaning after minimal use.

“You look like shit.”

For half a second, something cracked—his face shifted like he was going to laugh, maybe even cry. His eyes widened and his lips wobbled. But then he shut it down, wiped the emotion clear.

Slid the mask back into place.

He sat upright, hand still enclosed around yours. “You’re awake. Good.” He kept his voice smooth, monotone. It was killing him, pretending to be indifferent, but he couldn’t express the relief he was feeling. He hadn’t heard your voice in so long, hadn’t seen that smile.

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. It hurt a bit and you faintly recalled soft fingers brushing against your forehead. “Don’t do that,” you whispered, clearing your throat.

Bucky blinked before he brought a paper cup filled with water to your lips. “I’m fine.”

Eagerly, you pulled the straw into your mouth and sucked, letting the water wash away the dryness. You finished all the water and wiped your chin. “I didn’t ask if you were fine.”

His jaw flexed. He looked away. Hand still around yours, thumb still tracing patterns into your skin.

You tightened your grip on his hand and his eyes met yours briefly before he looked at the monitors as if he couldn’t describe your charts with his eyes closed.

“Thank you,” you said, quietly, a small smile on your lips.

It was silent for a moment, something that could have stretched into something uncomfortable, but then he bowed his head and broke—his shoulders shaking just slightly, his hand gripping yours like he was trying to ground himself.

He didn’t cry, not really. But you could feel it—the sheer weight of everything he hadn’t let himself feel, the weight of your life on him, the heaviness of his guilt.

You stayed silent, held his hand tightly as your thumb drew circles on his skin. You had your own guilt; the weight of what you could have done, how you should have been more diligent, reached out for him, fought for yourself harder and made it to him, been less of a burden.

But this wasn’t about you. This was about him, and how he tried his best, his very hardest to keep you alive. How you made him confront his feelings for the first time, with the threat of loss looming behind him.

“I thought I lost you,” he admitted, hoarsely. “I—fuck. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I’ve never been that scared in my life. Not during Hydra, not even when I came back.”

You stared at him, heart tight and eyes shiny. You weren’t usually an emotional person, but these were unusual circumstances. When you had been swept away, as you were thrown around and bruised, all you could think about was him; how he’s your best friend and you never told him, how all you wanted was for him to be more, someone you could love and hold.

“I would never have made it,” he said, eyes bright, “If anything happened to you.”

Your eyes stung and your heart beat faster, the monitor beeped in warning. Neither of you noticed.

You breathed his name and he leaned closer, the heat of his body caressing yours. You brought your joined hands to your lips and kissed the back of his hand, slow and soft, eyes on him.

His breath caught like you’d hit him with a bullet, his entire body stilling. His lips parted in wonder and his eyes widened slowly.

“I’m okay,” you smiled. “Nothing happened. You made sure of that. I’m okay.” You needed him to know, needed him to understand that you wouldn’t have made it if anything happened to him, that you were grateful to him.

Before he could answer, the door slid open and Dr. Bates stepped in, tablet in hand, coat wrinkled like she hadn’t taken it off for weeks.

Her eyes fell on you, Bucky, then your joined hands. She smiled, just a little. “Sorry to interrupt.” Bucky straightened up but didn’t let go of your hand. You turned towards her. “I’m glad you’re awake, Y/n. It’s good to have you back.”

You smiled at her, glancing at the tablet in her hand.

“Thanks, Doc.”

“You’ve been under for two weeks,” she started gently, coming to the edge of your bed. Your eyes widened in surprise and you glanced at Bucky, who stared at you, unblinking.

“We had to keep you sedated—” she explained, “your body was in rough shape when you came in. Ribs deeply bruised, bordering on contusions. Your right shoulder was nearly dislocated, and you had early-stage sepsis. If you hadn’t been found when you were—” she paused, glancing at Bucky—“you wouldn’t have made it.”

You turned your head slowly towards him, lips pulling into a frown.

He looked away.

“You’re lucky,” the doctor continued. “He kept you alive long enough for us to stabilize you. Field-treated half of your injuries himself. Not exactly regulation, but…” she smiled, gently, “it worked.”

You gave Bucky’s hand the faintest squeeze. “So…Am I cleared to go?”

Dr. Bates hesitated, then nodded. “As long as you don’t overdo it. No combat. No gym. No carrying anything heavier than a coffee cup. You’ll need regular check ups—especially to monitor your lungs and immune response. And, you shouldn’t be alone.”

Before you could speak, Bucky’s voice—clear, rough—cut in.

“I’ll be with her.”

The words were simple, but the way he said them—calm, final, almost soft—settled something in your chest and made warmth swim through your body.

Dr. Bates blinked, almost like she’d expected a fight. Then she nodded again. “Good. Then I’ll start the discharge paperwork.”

She turned and left, and the door hissed closed behind her.

Silence fell again, heavy, but not uncomfortable.

You stayed quiet for a beat, still absorbing it all. The ache in your ribs had settled into something manageable, but another kind of ache twisted low in your chest, one you couldn’t ignore.

You turned your head slightly on the pillow, eyes slowly growing heavier. “What about you?”

Bucky looked up from where he was still gripping your hand, a blanket of something softer, something resembling relief had been draped over his shoulders.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” you asked, voice soft. “Your leg…and your arm. Your ribs. You were limping when—when you carried me.”

His brows pinched together like you’d just reminded him of something he’d forgotten and you briefly panicked. Bucky would refuse to get medical attention if it meant he had to leave you, you knew he would. It was just who he was. You loved him so much.

Abruptly, you blinked—eyes wide for a second before you schooled them. You had never let yourself think it, much less admit it so openly.

“I’m fine,” he replied, quickly, trying to brush it under the rug.

You narrowed your eyes and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Don’t give me the bullshit brush-off, Bucky. What did they say?”

Before he could dodge the question again, the door slid open and Dr. Bates reappeared, a different tablet in her hands.

“Something wrong?” She asked, glancing between you.

You nodded gently towards Bucky. “Can you tell me the truth? About him. Did he let you take a look?”

Bucky gave a little sigh, leaning back in the chair. And yet, even then, he didn’t let go of your hand. You briefly wondered if he knew he was still holding it, but the weight of it, the way it felt like his lifeline, made you aware that he did.

Dr. Bates didn’t even hesitate, like she had expected this sooner. “He came in with three fractured ribs, a torn ligament in his left leg, and deep lacerations on his arm. Didn’t want to be checked and told us to prioritize you.” She sounded almost fond.

You blinked at him slowly and he looked away, mouth twisting into a hard line. He didn’t want you to know these things, didn’t think they were relevant. He had half a mind to remind the doctor of patient confidentiality, but then he lifted his eyes and the genuine concern on your face, in the tremble of your fingers, kept him quiet.

She continued, tapping her screen. “The serum accelerated his healing, of course. Most of it was resolved within days. He’s been medically cleared since the first week.” She paused, then added, almost like an afterthought, “He also requested a bed next to yours. Just in case.”

Your heart flipped and your ears felt warm. He was so obvious in his care, it dripped and leaked out of him no matter how hard he tried to keep it locked up and it was so beyond endearing, you almost burst into tears.

Bucky still wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“He said—” she glanced at him, a small curve in her lips “—and I quote, ‘I’ll only sleep if I can hear her breathing.”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks and you blinked hard, trying not to let it show too much but your heart rate had picked up and it was obvious on the monitor. “Oh.”

Dr. Bates softened, just a little. She leaned in, like she was about to tell you a secret. “He hasn’t left your side since the quinjet. If that tells you anything.”

With that, she set the tablet down on the edge of your bed. “Just sign whenever you’re ready and press the red button. It’ll only take an hour or so to get you discharged.” She smiled at you and then turned and left again, door shutting gently behind her.

Silence, familiar, settled between you, thick and humming.

You finally looked at him, a smile on your lips. “You’re an idiot.” It’s all you could stay, your heart on fire and chest bubbling with affection and love.

His mouth twitched and for a second, he looked younger. “Takes one to know one.” It was stupid, something he would have said to Sam, but your eyes were bright and his attention was divided.

You reached up slowly, hand trembling, and brushed your fingers across his knuckles. He didn’t usually let you touch him this easily. It was riveting, freeing. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you worrying about me,” he muttered. “Not when you were fighting for your life.”

You stared at him for a long moment. Then, softly, replied. “I’m not fighting anymore.”

He stared at you, deep blue eyes reminding you of the ocean, of the storm you both had survived.

“I’m not fighting anymore so you can stop worrying.” You smiled at him, sweet and soft. “I know you think that it’s your fault but it isn’t. You found me, saved me.”

Bucky cleared his throat and clenched his jaw. He didn’t need you telling him not to worry because it wouldn’t change anything. Wouldn’t change the fact that he stayed awake at night and hovered in the hallways, slipping into your room to make sure you were breathing, keeping an eye on your vitals.

“Bucky,” you said, voice thicker and full of steel. He sighed and slowly nodded. He was many things, filled with guilt, but he wasn’t immune to you, to your wants and needs. And what you needed was him to be honest, to listen.

“I hear you, doll,” he sighed, quietly. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He squeezed your hand once and almost pulled away but your grip tightened and you smiled.

As if you knew what he meant, could see the depth of his care. Like he hadn’t folded and crushed the love he had for you and shoved it in the deepest parts of him, trying to keep it hidden. It was unravelling, fast and without permission.

The door slid open quietly.

Natasha stepped in first, concern in her eyes but a small grin tugging at her lips at the sight before her.

Steve followed behind her. Sam too. They all looked tired, but relieved. The doctor had alerted them when you had woken up an hour ago, wanting to give you time to adjust.

They looked at you and Bucky—still close, your hand in his, his chair pulled right up against your bed—sleeping. Your head rested on the pillow and Bucky’s on his arm.

They didn’t say anything. Couldn’t, really. While they had been in and out of your room, sending flowers and asking for updates, Bucky hadn’t moved. He had only complied with getting medical help because it had been your last demand before passing out. He had stayed by your side for two weeks, unwavering.

Steve hadn’t seen him sleep. Bucky had refused any drugs that may have knocked him out and every time Steve came to check on him, he was up. Usually watching you. This was the first time either of them had seen him at peace, and it was with his hand around yours.

“They’re sweet,” Natasha whispered, her smile growing. She had known, of course she did. She saw the way you both looked at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “About time, too. I almost owed Clint $50.”

Steve frowned, eyes drifting to Sam. “You bet on them?”

Sam shrugged and quietly laid down the flowers he had gotten you on the already full table. “It was Tony’s idea.”

Dr. Bates entered last, holding a juice box. “Oh, visitors.”

“Sorry, Doc,” Steve apologized, moving to the side.

“No worries, Mr. Rogers.” She set the juice box down on the table beside you. You needed the sugar before getting on your feet.

Before Steve or anyone could respond, Bucky shifted and his eyes flew open. His spine snapped up and he blinked at the people in the room, a frown on his lips. He glanced at your sleeping face and momentarily, his eyes softened.

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “She’s sleeping.”

“Hey, you,” Sam cooed, wiggling his eyebrows.

Before Bucky could growl in annoyance, you stretched your arms and yawned, your hand slipping out of his.

“I’m awake.” Then, “Don’t provoke him, Sam.”

Natasha snorted and you opened your eyes, smiling at the people standing in front of you. Sam rolled his eyes before he moved closer and ruffled your hair, his eyes softening.

“Hey, Y/n.” He picked up the juice box and poked the straw through it, handing it to you. “Glad you’re not dead. Don’t do that again.”

You smiled in thanks and squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Sam. Don’t plan on it.”

Steve and Natasha moved closer too, soft smiles and softer words. They asked you how you were feeling, if you needed anything. Bucky stayed beside you, his fingers twitching, now that your hand wasn’t in his. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and leaned back in his chair, head falling back.

He hadn’t slept properly in days. Figures that he’d find a moment of peace beside you.

As you spoke to Natasha, your hand searched for his. You were okay, the pain was dull and the trauma wasn’t at the forefront. But, you still needed his comfort—no, wanted it.

Bucky felt your fingers brush against his and, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he captured your hand in his. His heart fluttered when you squeezed and he looked away. He was in deep.

Dr. Bates cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly when the conversations died out. “Sorry to interrupt, but you’re cleared to go.”

You sat up, eyes wide. “Really?” Steve’s lips quirked upwards at the excitement in your voice. Bucky felt his heart settle at the sound, at the way you had managed to light the room in a soft glow.

The doctor nodded. “All the paperwork is done. I’ve prescribed you some painkillers you can take, as well.”

You sighed in relief and turned to Bucky, eyes bright. You were glowing and he felt like a moth with the way he leaned in.

“Thank you, Dr. Bates. Truly.”

She smiled at you before glancing at Bucky. “Of course, Agent. Take care. I hope I don’t see any of you soon.” With that, she turned and left.

Natasha grinned at you and Bucky before she stepped back. “I’ll get your clothes, Y/n.”

You smiled at her gratefully as she slipped out of the room. Steve and Sam stood by your bed and you looked up at them. “So, what’d I miss?”

Sam clapped his hands together, instantly filling you in on all of the drama you had missed. Steve laughed quietly at his antics and Bucky snorted, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading and a real, genuine ghost of a smile on his lips.

The elevator ride to your floor was quiet.

Not in a cold, distant kind of way—but in the way people are quiet when there’s too much to say and not enough breath to say it. You moved slowly, one foot in front of the other, careful of your ribs and side. Bucky walked beside you, close enough to feel the heat of him, one hand a steady weight at your lower back.

The metal was cold against your thin sweater, but there was still something soft about it. The way he stayed beside you, rubbed his thumb up and down your skin, absentmindedly.

You could feel him watching you.

Not like before. Not scanning like a soldier. Just…watching. Like a man trying to memorize every detail before it’s gone. He was desperate, soaking in all your warmth and all the time he got with you. You could feel it, his earnesty.

Your floor was dim when you entered—peaceful, untouched since the mission. But, not entirely untouched. A folded hoodie on the couch. Your plants watered. A fresh pair of pajamas neatly laid across your bed, one you couldn’t see but knew was there.

You turned to look at him, brows raised and a hint of a knowing smile dancing on your lips.

Bucky’s jaw ticked. For a second, he looked embarrassed, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I, uh, came by a few times. Brought you fresh stuff. Didn’t want your plants dying while you were—” He cleared his throat. “—while you were healing.”

Your insides felt all warm and gooey. He was making it so difficult to stay indifferent, to keep all your feelings and wants and needs hidden, like they weren’t about to bleed out of you.

You took a step closer to him.

“Thank you.”

His eyes flicked to yours, then away, like he couldn’t quite take the weight of your gratitude. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, a rare and endearing nervous habit, eyes scanning your space like it was unfamiliar now. Like he didn’t belong, even though he fit here so perfectly.

You saw it clearly, the way he moved. The way his boots thudded soft against your rug. The way his broad body filled your kitchen doorway. He belonged here, in your space. With you. Not just for now, not suddenly. But always.

You ached for it, for him.

Bucky hesitated near the door, shoulders stiff.

“I’ll head out, let you settle in. Just…yell if you need anything. I’ll be around.”

You knew what that meant. It meant he would wander, hover. He’d be in the shadows, waiting and anxious. He had this habit, when he was worried. You first learned about it when Steve was injured on a mission they both went on. He never said it, but Bucky wanted to be there for Steven in case he wanted anything.

You had run into Bucky late in the night. Steve had missed dinner so you were checking on him, making sure he was pushing fluids, when Bucky’s large frame obscured your path.

Sometimes, and he’d never admit it, but when Bucky had nightmares about you, or anyone else on the team, he’d often seek them out at night. Just a moment, outside the door. All he needed was to hear you breathing, make sure you were okay.

That the Winter Soldier had not gotten to you.

“Stay,” you said softly. “Have a cup of coffee with me.”

He blinked, his hands dropping. “I—yeah. Sure.”

You padded into the kitchen slowly, feeling him trail behind. He sat on the stool at the island while you made two cups. His eyes were heavy on you the whole time, tracing every moment. He watched you carefully as you brewed fresh coffee, getting both of your favourite cups from the cupboard. As you waited, you glanced back at him and to your surprise, he smiled at you; soft, crooked, and quick, but attractive and warm all the same.

He loved you like this. In your space, as you carried yourself with no expectations. When he was new to the tower, years ago, he often found peace in just watching you to the most mundane tasks. It brought him a sense of calm, normalcy. How you moved with grace, carried yourself like you didn’t have skeletons in your closet.

It made him have hope. Like he could one day be okay, or a semblance of it.

When you turned to hand him the mug, his fingers brushed yours, a quiet jolt of warmth passing between you.

“You okay?”

He was quiet, eyes drifting across your face before he nodded. “Yeah. I am now.”

You sat beside him on the stool, legs barely touching, cups between you on the counter. The coffee was simple—black for him, creamy for you—but it felt like a ritual. Something sacred. You couldn’t remember the last time you had shared a mug with anyone else.

“Are you going on your run tomorrow?” Your voice was quiet, like you couldn’t dare to disturb the peace.

Bucky hummed, drinking slowly. “Maybe. Why?” He raised an eyebrow at you, concern creeping in. “Do you need something? Tell me, I’ll get it.”

You laughed, soft and breathy. “No, no. I was just wondering.”

His shoulders sagged and the edge of his lip curled up. “I’ll tell you if I go.” He paused. “I’ll run past that bookstore you like. Get you something so you won’t be bored.”

Your grip on your mug tightened and you lifted your gaze to meet his, warm and heavy. “You don’t have to.” He didn’t like small spaces and you weren’t even sure if he liked the bookstore, even though he always came with you, even when you didn’t ask.

“I know,” he replied, meaning something else. He set the mug down. “That was good. Thanks.”

You thought he might stay. That maybe, just maybe, he’d slide a little closer.

Instead, he stood.

“I should let you rest—”

“Bucky.”

He stopped. In his tracks, and breathing.

You stood too, slow and careful. You stepped towards him, giving him the chance to step back. He didn’t. Just stood still, frozen, like if he didn’t move, this dream might never turn to a nightmare.

You said his name again, like a prayer. He was almost undone. He should have stepped back, should have done something, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He needed this, needed you.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him towards you. He stumbled slightly, caught off guard—but his hands went to your waist without hesitation.

You kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tentative. It was desperate, full of years of tension—your lips crashed onto his, hands fisting his Henley. He kissed you back just as hard, like he’d been starving. He swallowed your gasp of surprise and kissed you ferociously, pressing his chest against yours, hand cupping your cheek.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him messily, teeth against teeth. He pulled you unbelievably close, flush against him. He was wrapped around you, or you around him. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you moaned, your hands sliding up his solid chest and into his hair.

When you pulled back, your chest was heaving, lips plump and bruised, face flushed. Your eyes fluttered open and you almost whimpered at the sight of him, hair tousled, lips plump. He looked completely undone, absolutely perfect.

“Stay,” you whispered, borderline begging. “Please, Buck. I want you. You belong here—with me.”

He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer before the deep blue swept you away. His forehead dropped to yours, nose brushing against your cheek.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he rasped, breathless.

“I do.” You pressed your forehead harder against his, kissed the edge of his mouth. “I do.”

You kissed him again. This time, it was slower, sweeter. Your hands moved to cup his jaw, your lips soft against his. He melted into it, groaning low in his throat. HIs hands trembled against your waist. He pressed a sure, hard kiss to your jaw before he pulled away, breathing heavily, gasping.

“Fuck, doll—fuck.” His arms pushed you into him further, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing the skin under your eye. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He glanced down at your side before lifting his eyes. “Are you breathing alright?”

You exhaled through your nose, a quiet laugh. So caring, so obvious in his love. You don’t know how you never saw it before. How it wasn’t painfully obvious to you. He was filled with love, all you had to do was let him feel it.

Gingerly, you moved the hand on your waist to your side, slid it up to your abdomen. Then, up to your heart. It was beating incredibly fast, you wondered if he could hear it. His breath hitched and his eyes flickered to yours.

“I’ve never been better.”

He looked like he was a second from losing his mind. His throat bobbed and he tilted his chin.

“You sure?”

You sighed and fisted his shirt again. Nothing but pure honesty and desire and love in your eyes.

“Just kiss me, Bucky.”

He pressed his thumb into your skin, his pulse in his fingertips. He looked at you again, really looked, trying to search for the answers. You couldn’t tell what he was looking for so you stood still, smiled at him widely.

Whatever it was, he found it.

Bucky surged forward and captured your lips again, his heart beating rapidly against your chest as his arms circled your waist. In a rush of confidence, Bucky slipped his tongue into your mouth, trached the crevices of your teeth and gums before sucking your tongue, guiding your hips into his. You clawed at his back, guiding him blindly through your apartment. His hands never stopped touching—your sides, your arms, your face, reverent and shaking.

You barely made it to your bedroom.

He laid you gently on the bed, like you were something fragile and breakable—but his body trembled with restraint. He hovered over you, breathing hard, his eyes almost black.

“We don’t have to,” he whispered. “We don’t have to do anything. You’re still hurt.”

“I want to,” you whispered back. “I need to feel you. All of you. You’ll take care of me, I know you will.”

He kissed you again, tender and slow. Took his time exploring your mouth. Then, he kissed the edge of your lips, licked and kissed down your throat, nibbling and sucking. His hands brushed against your warm skin, your cheeks and neck and then slipped beneath your sweater. You lifted your arms carefully, letting him peel it off, revealing faintly bruised skin and healing ribs.

He stared for a beat, his expression softening, endearing, filled with affection. You had never really cared about your appearance, but his attention, the heat of his eyes, made you feel wanted.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your scars. “You’re beautiful.”

His lips immediately reattached to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone and your head fell back, trying to pry yourself open for him. “Beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, “So fucking pretty.”

You smiled, pulling his shirt up. He let you strip him bare. His chest was covered in scars, blemishes, burns, healing wounds.

You traced them with your fingers, touch as light as a feather. The lamp beside your bedside cast a low amber glow across the room and painted his skin in warm gold. He looked godly, absolutely stunning above you.

He had one forearm braced by your head, the other cradled your cheek. He watched you as you watched him, anxiety swimming in his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him this gently.

“Y/n,” he whispered, begging. You smiled at him and tilted your chin up, kissing a scar on his shoulder. He kissed you softly and your hands found home in his hair, fingers sliding through the thick, soft strands, tugging gently just to feel him melt. He made a sound in his chest, low and aching, and deepened the kiss, tongue flicking gently against yours.

His body—muscles, scars, and heat—pressed closely against yours. You could feel it, though, he was holding back. Whether it was because you were injured or he was afraid, you didn’t know. You wanted all of him, his strength and roughness.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he pulled back, eyes glassy and softer than you’d ever seen them. “This what you want?” His voice cracked a little. “Am I what you want?”

You touched his cheek, feeling the rough edge of stubble and the quiet vulnerability just under his skin. “I want you, Bucky.” He held his breath. “I want the man who waters my plants and dusts my shelves. The man who carried me through a forest and saved my life. The man who learned how to play different card games for me, the one who learned how to make tea the way my mother used to.”

He blinked, lips parting slightly. “Y/n…”

“I notice everything,” you said, voice trembling. “How you always walk on the outside of the sidewalk. How you breathe deeper when you’re trying to stay calm. How you always make sure you’re between me and danger. Regardless of what it is.”

He let out a soft, stunned breath. His hand slid from your cheek, down to your shoulder, then your waist, clutching like he needed to anchor himself.

“I didn’t realize…” His voice cracked and he bit his bottom lip. “Didn’t realize you watched me so closely.” He watched you closely, knew all of your habits and quirks. He hadn’t realized you were watching him just as closely.

“I always have,” you murmured, as if you hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

Something cracked open in him then.

He kissed you hard—like the dam had broken, like every piece of love he’d locked away had finally burst free. His mouth moved with aching reverence across your lips, your jaw, your throat. He kissed down your collarbone, your shoulder.

He pulled back only to help you undress completely. His hands were so gently—touching, peeling away fabric like it was sacred. He unhooked your bra and dropped it somewhere behind him, pausing when you were completely bare beneath him, worshipping.

“You really are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, doll.”

You reached for him in return, pulled at the waistbands of his jeans. He let you, watched with a gaze so soft it made your chest ache. When he was finally bare, you ran your hands over his ribs, his thighs. He shivered under your touch, leaning into it.

He kissed down your body, pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to the skin between your breasts, licking and sucking, swallowing the taste of your sweet sweat, memorizing it. You were a mess above him, head thrown back and eyes sewn shut, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your lips as you pulled and scraped his hair and the nape of his neck. Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

Under a trance, Bucky pressed a soft kiss on one of your breasts, his fingers brushed the nipple of the other. He kitten-licked your swollen, aching bud before he latched on, circling his tongue as if he could have convinced your body to submit to him completely.

His other hand pinched and squeezed your other nipple, before he released your swollen and wet nipple with a pop, not even breathing as he latched onto the other one. All of your senses were going crazy, overwhelmed to the point of hysteria and tears.

He pushed himself up, rested his forehead against yours as both of your chests heaved. You leaned forward and pressed a swift kiss to his swollen lips, licking his bottom lip. You both breathed in the other, bodies sweaty.

“I’d kill for you,” Bucky admitted in a rush, hoarse. You blinked at him, trying to catch your breath.

“What?”

“I would,” he said. “For you. I think I have, already. But you have to know. I’d kill anyone for hurting you.”

You heard what he was saying—really saying. It was a clear day. His devotion. He was panting, sweat collecting on his forehead. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose.

“I know,” you answered. “I love you, Bucky.”

His arm trembled but he caught himself. He stared down at you for a second before his entire face softened. He brushed his cheek against yours, lips and breath warm, tickling. “I love you, Y/n.” It was soft, like it was still a secret, but it took your breath away all the same.

He went back to kissing you.

Everywhere.

He took his time, dragging his mouth across your stomach, your hips, your thighs, murmuring soft praises into your skin. He kissed along the edges of your scars like they were maps that led him home.

When he finally kissed between your legs, it was with awe.

“Let me taste you,” he begged, voice gravelly.

You nodded, breath catching as he settled between your thighs. He shifted downwards and pressed his nose against your cunt, holding down your hips as your legs twitched. You cried out and pulled at his hair but he was adamant, ignoring the pain and pushed your legs further apart.

You squirmed under him as he stared at your cunt before blowing warm air on it, finding your agony adorable. You knew though, that he’d notice if you were in pain before you did.

He spread your legs even further before he kissed your pussy softly. “Fucking pretty pussy,” he praised. His tongue was slow, teasing, reverent—licking up through your folds, curling just right against your clit. His hands held your hips, thumbs stroking circles into your skin as he worshipped you like you were holy.

“Bucky,” you whispered. “Please.”

“I know, doll,” he nodded, his nose brushed against your slick folds. You grinded your hips against him, trying to get some sort of relief. “You taste like heaven,” he groaned. He licked a harsh stripe of your core. Pressed his face closer to your cunt as his tongue pushed in and out of your sopping hole, licking and sucking as if you were his last meal.

He traced his name, his devotion, into your gummy walls, his nose pressed against your clit. You moaned out a broken, gagged version of his name and arched your back as his nose dug further into your clit, rubbed it until he’s sure you’re all he’ll smell for weeks.

His hand pressed against your cheek and you clutched his hand, brought his metal fingers to your lips and sucked. He groaned into your cunt and the vibrations had you seeing stars.

He curled the tip of his tongue upwards and you almost screamed, tears fell down your cheeks at the pleasure.

“Yes, yes,” you chanted, words muffled by his fingers.

Lifting his eyes, Bucky hummed at the sight of your pleasure, the way tears prettily fell down your cheeks, and lifted his fingers from your tongue. Before he could bring his hand back towards him, you grabbed it and settled it on your chest. His wet, dripping fingers pinched your nipples, teasing the sensitive skin.

“Bucky,” you panted, hips arching. “I’m close, please, baby.”

Despite everything inside him telling him to keep going, he pulled up, releasing your clit with a messy pop. He kissed your folds and cooed as you cried out, licking you clean. “I know, Y/n, I know.” He kissed your inner thigh. “But if you’re gonna cum, I want it to be around my cock, pretty girl.”

You stopped breathing. “Bucky…Oh my gosh.” He kissed up your body, licking the wetness from his lips, grinned like he’d never truly lived before. He hovered above you again and you cupped his face.

“You’re insane,” you laughed, giddy.

“I really like you, doll.” Bucky was grinning, and although his eyes burned into yours, you couldn’t tell if he was speaking to you or your pussy.

You laughed and curled your fingers around his dog tags, pulling him close. “I need you,” you whispered. He pressed his forehead to yours, breath ragged. He kissed you softly before pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised. “I’ll go slow.” He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifted your head. He looked between your eyes, trying to find any hesitation before he glanced down at your lips.

Pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Bucky lifted your head, his gaze almost scoldering. He looked between your eyes, trying to find any hesitation, before he glanced down at your lips.

“You’ll tell me if it hurts, right?” Bucky needed you to know that you were safe with him. “I’m serious, Y/n.”

“I know, Bucky.” You traced one of his dog tags. “It won’t. I trust you.”

He wrapped one of his hands around his hard, leaking cock and slid up and down once. “I’ll make it feel good, doll.” Your pussy fluttered at his words and he could feel it against his legs. He almost, almost, lost it right there and then, instead, he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, looking as sinful as ever.

Slowly, he pushed himself in.

The satisfying tightening and burn of his veins against your gummy walls made you both moan in unison, your body lit up as he sunk in completely, the base of his cock hit your core. The stretch felt amazing, so good, and all you could do was tuck your face into the crook of his neck, biting back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, knuckles white with how hard he gripped your skin. “Fuck, so fucking tight and warm.” You pressed a soft kiss to his neck and he jerked his hips upwards, filled you to the brim, his tip reached parts of you no one ever had.

When you licked a long stripe of his neck, sucked his adam’s apple until it was red, he collapsed on top of you, his cock leaking in your pussy, veins pulsing.

You welcomed the weight of his body. He felt so warm; so real, so yours, you could feel the weight of his muscles against yours, the weight crushed the lingering loneliness that had crept into your bones over the years.

You wrapped your arms around his body, scratched his back and pulled at his hair as you littered his throat and jaw with kisses.

Desperation clawed at Bucky and his thrusts became erratic as he pushed your body flush against him, forcing your hips to match his bruising pace as more slick poured from your legs and onto the sheets, your needy moans mixed with his broken ones.

“Close–I’m, oh,” you stuttered out, eyes closing when Bucky’s fingers grazed your clit, his own eyes shut for a second when your walls squeezed him impossibly tight as he pressed his fingers against your clit. He could feel it, the dizzying feeling of euphoria building in his chest, the way it was running through his veins. He could tell you felt it too by your breathing, the way your pussy wept for him.

Stars danced around in your vision and he knew his own vision mirrored yours, the tightness in his core was almost unbearable and he tipped his head forward and pressed his lips against yours, smiling briefly when your hold on him tightened. “Go ahead, doll. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock,” his voice was sweet, borderline crazed.

You fell limp in his arms when he thrusted into you once, twice, right against your cervix, and you had come undone for him, release washed over you, body weak as your legs shook under his. His hands were all over your body, caressed your skin to comfort you as your body convulsed for him.

His lips littered soft kisses to any skin he could reach, and when your walls tightened completely, coating his cock in your cum, he softly cried out your name as warm ropes of his cum filled you to the brim.

You could barely blink, senses still overwhelmed as he kept kissing you, kept cumming, filling you up so well, until you could almost taste him. Quiet praises filled with love and encouragement were whispered against your skin as he remained buried up to the hilt in you, his hips still pushing his cum into you, almost as if he had no control over himself.

Your entire body was shaking and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbed your back gently until your whimpers turned into heavy breathing, until all you could mumble was some variation of his name. He forced his hips to still, forced himself to breathe deeply.

“I love you, Y/n,” he said, devout. “You mean so much to me. I’ll protect you, always.”

Bodies sticky and sweaty, he ran his hands up and down your back, nails grazed your skin to ground you. He was sure he was still cumming but if he could distract you, keep your attention on anything other than your overly stimulated, stuffed pussy, he’d do so.

“That’s it, doll,” he cooed lovingly, kissed the shell of your ear. “I got you.” He smiled when he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. “Did so well for me, pretty girl.” You simply hummed in response, unable to form any sentences at the moment. Bucky rested his cheek against your head, fought the urge to grind his hips against yours.

You breathed in Bucky’s scent slowly, head safely tucked in the crook of his neck. The way he held you now, so soft, so lovingly, had your heart settling. You could barely feel your legs, moaning lightly when his cock twitched inside you. Wrapped around his body, you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck, sucked softly when he tilted his head to give you more access.

Your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck and he shuddered. You could have fallen asleep right there and then, with his cock stuffed safely in your pussy, sticky wetness fusing your both together.

Slowly, Buckley lifted himself off your body and you both hissed. He brushed your hair out of your face. You stared at him and his legs wobbled at the look in your eyes. You brought a hand up to his face and traced the length of his eyebrow, brushed your fingers down his nose, and along his cheek.

“Pretty,” you mumbled, and he leaned forward and kissed you softly.

It was different, slower, more intimate as he cupped your cheek and tilted his head, lips plush against yours. You moaned into his mouth at the intimacy of it; the way his cock was still buried inside you, the way your mixed juices still leaked out of you, the gentle caress of his hand as he whispered loving praises into your mouth.

Gently, Bucky pulled out of your sopping cunt, biting back a groan. He shifted his weight and maneuvered your body until you were laying in his arms, your back pressed against his chest. He knew he had much to clean up, but your eyes fluttered shut occasionally so he put it off, knowing you needed him more.

He ran his hands along your arms and then your shoulders, pressing into your skin occasionally to remind you that he was right behind you. You snuggled into him, back pressed flush against his chest and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Let me run you a bath,” he whispered, pressed a kiss to your head.

You shook your head and waved him off. “Maybe later. I can’t feel any part of my body.”

Bucky laughed, but he lifted himself a bit, looked down at you. “Do you need anything? Medicine? Water? Does anything hurt?”

You snorted and slowly shifted, chest pressed to his. You wedged your leg between his, ignored the stickiness that coated you. “Only you could fuck me like this and be this worried after. Just hold me, Buck.”

He smiled at the fucked-out look on your face, pride bubbling in his chest before his eyes skirted to the scars on your skin. He kissed your cheek and slowly pulled himself away from you and out of bed.

“I’m going to grab you a glass of water and clean you up. I’ll be right back, doll.”

You hummed and squeezed his bicep. “Okay, baby.”

By the time he came back, you had fallen asleep. He placed the glass of water on your side and sat beside your sleeping body. His hand hovered before he cupped your cheek. “I don’t think I could survive ever losing you, Y/n.”

"I love you," he whispered, the words flowing out easily.

Maybe it had always been easy, with you.

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shaybae1114 · 10 months ago

Text

Wolf hybrid x bunny hybrid reader.

You couldn't possibly be anymore nervous. You were meeting with the sigma of the all alpha pack. They needed a female for their heat, and you needed multiple males to help you through yours. Bunny heats could lead to death if not treated properly, and you were a shunned rabbit. No burrow would take you. Darius looked you up and down his claws digging into his chair he couldn't believe such a cute tiny bunny was in his office wishing to agree to the stupid ad his 2nd had recommended they put out. His pack was getting to riled needing a pussy to keep them in line but never did he expect a bunny rabbit. You smelt like sunshine and freshly grown flowers he couldn't help but wonder if all rabbits smelt like that.

"They accused me of a crime I didn't commit. I swear even though I'm a shunned. i'll bring no harm to you or your pack. I just dont wish to die in agony from something that can be helped. And if I do end up pregnant, I request to be welcomed to stay in pack territory. I will not leave any of my children." You stated the conversation had been going smoothly, but the sigma had started to look furious. You couldn't help but start to panic more. Did he believe the rumors did he just call you here to see the only shunned bunny in history like many others had before.

"Many of the males in my pack were shunned for the wrong reasons. I don't care about such a worthless thing. I just need a willing female to aid us and many have not been interested in helping my whole pack. They don't want there young to be born from tainted." Darius growled. He knew he shouldn't feel insulted at the females accusations but it still stung after all he would never rip a child from there mother or judge somebody for being shunned.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I just want to make sure there is no miss understanding." You whispered softly. The heat suppressant was starting to wear off , you where gonna cry over upsetting the wolf. This meeting needed to wrap up or you'd be in heat with a pack who didn't want you. Never again you'd sworn standing quickly. "Thank you for having me but since your clearly not interested I'm going to leave now."

"When did I say I wasn't interested?" Darius asked tilting his head inhaling your sweet scent. The scent of your arousal making his instincts go off. If anything he wanted to make sure you got under him and stayed there. He stood towering over you. He grabbed a strand of your hair twirling it into his fingers. He pulled you close your lips almost touching. "You will stay in my room for right now while I prep my pack then I'll have my way with you before they get there turn. I can't wait to have you falling apart for me little bunny nothing more than a brainless slut begging for more from me.... from my pack." He growled his eyes glowing golden with how his instincts where leading is emotions. As the soft needy whimper left your lips he stole the sound closing the distance.

Darius's kiss was all primal he made it clear he was in charge. He growled as he picked you up grinding his hard cock against your heat. The feeling of his jeans rubbing against your clit had you whining into the kiss for more. And Darius was going to give it to you.

He broke the kiss slowly placing you back on the ground making sure to keep your pressed close down as he did.

"Wh.. why did you stop." You stuttered blushing heavily wanting to reconnect with him.

"My office is not the place to start this. My pack has a room they made just for the female we brought in." He stated as he dragged you from the office. "My males will want you there ready and if I start with you now I won't stop." He groaned as he scented your arousal once again his sweet rabbit was so needy so wet already. As you entered the room that was located not to far from his office thank the gods for that. You where awe struck the room was beautiful truly looked like the room of your dreams.

"It's incredible I know you designed it for any female but it almost feels like it was made for me." You shook your head at the silly thought. Darius stepped forward placing his finger under your chin to make you look up at him.

"We all argued on this room for months before it was completed. So perhaps it was." Darius eyes where soft glad you liked the room. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down wanting to show the sigma how much you really appreciated the room. He chuckled kissing you softly. "Take of your clothes and lay down ass up on the bed." He stated nipping at your lips before stepping back. Sitting in a chair you hadn't noticed immediately but once you did, You realized it took in view of the whole bed you licked your lips perhaps Darius liked to watch. You had stopped in your tracks do to the fantasies that where running thru your mind. Darius watching while giving orders to his men while they handled you. "Bunny I believe I told you to do something." At Darius's tone you snapped out of your thoughts making eye contact he was the image of someone in control.

"Yes sir." You whispered out with a blush going to quickly strip. Darius tcked. Standing back up grabbing your hands.

"Stay calm bunny there is no rush. Give me a show baby girl." Darius whispered leaning into to drag kisses along your neck. "Mmm your heart is racing little bunny is it fear or desire?"

"Desire I've never wanted somebody as much as I want you." You gasped out as he gave a rough nip to your collarbone. He couldn't help but grin against your neck at that he felt the same he'd make sure you got pregnant he wouldn't let you leave him now.

"I'm gonna sit back down bunny and once I'm seated your gonna give me a show then lay on the bed with your pretty ass up, So I can see your cute little tail." Darius ordered releasing you to return to the chair. You watched silently as he got comfortable. Once he was fully seated you slowly reached down pulling your shirt off slowly. Your tail wagging in excitment. Darius's dominating mannerism had your panties soaked. Darius growled

As you finally revealed yourself his eyes traveled along your body taking you in. He jerked his head towards the bed encouraging you to do the next order. Finding the courage you turned to the predator giving him your back. Your heart rate once again picking up while your pussy only got wetter wondering what it'd be like to have him hunt you and use you for himself. Slowly crawling onto the bed wiggling your butt and little tail at the wolf. You where getting more and more wet by the second especially knowing the wolves eyes hadn't left you.

"Oh the bunny want to play does she." He snarled as you wiggled your tail and looked at him with half lidded eye lunging from the chair, he quickly closed the distance. You let out a startled yelp going to scurry up the bed to avoid the wolf. Your fight or flight extinct kicking in at Darius's sudden fierceness. He grabbed your hip with one hand while the other grabbed your long ears pulling your head back. Effectively pinning you to the mattress with his body. You where at his mercy. "Oh bunny you know better then to run from a big bad wolf don't you? That's how you get devoured and I'm gonna have my fill sweetheart." He groaned grinding his cock against your ass. You let out a soft whimper burying your face into the bedding as he released your ears. "Fuck bunny..." He groaned. "I can smell how needy your poor little cunt is. I need a taste. Don't fucking move." He growled as he slowly stood up. You where frozen the only thing you could acknowledge was the sound of your own heart beat. A soft gasp left your lips as you heard the sounds of his belt being undone and his pants hitting the floor.

"P....please Darius I need you." You stammered out you where to excited and things where going to slow.

"Oh no sweetheart this pretty cunt is about to belong to me ill take as much time as I please." He reached out spreading your fold licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt. He smirked taking a picture and sending it to the group messenger his pack had. I found our girl I'm gonna stuff her full first. Next one here gets her. Tossing his phone onto the floor knowing his pack would diffently rush to arrive he wanted to get his fill as promised. Darius bent down grabbing your ankles he pulled you down closer to him chuckling as you squeaked and quickly repositioning you on the edge of the bed your cunt and ass completely open to him. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers starting to rub along your clit. Darius wasn't joking about having his fill. He listened to every whimper and moan as he continued to move his fingers on your clit. He groaned in delight as he finally slide his index finger into your sopping cunt.

"Your pretty little pussy is sobbing in need she want a big thick knot to stuff her full." He stated looking into your eyes enjoying the way the rolled back when he made contact with your sweet spot. "A there's your g spot baby I bet you haven't found it with your pretty tiny fingers." He added a second finger smirking as your back arched off the sheets. The pressure building in your stomach telling you how close you where to cumming but suddenly Darius stopped pulling his fingers out of your puffy needy cunt.

"W...why did you stop." You whined soft tears falling down your cheeks. Darius groaned at the sight.

"Wanted to hear you beg for it hunny." He chuckled at the distress look that filled your features. He lifted up your left leg nibbling gently at your ankle. "You'll beg your Alpha to let you cum won't you sweet bunny?"

"Please Alpha please let's me cum." His smirk widened as he lunged for your cunt. Keeping your thigh pinned on his shoulder. You let out a startled cry as his thick tongue slide directly into your cunt. Darius growled against your clit as the taste of your cunt filled his every sense. Using his thum. to rub steady patterns on your clit he began to fuck you with his tongue using his hand to grab your hip pulling you closer to his mouth. Darius pulled back with a groan his face moist with your wetness. He smirked at you biting your ass cheek drawing out a soft moan from your lips. "fucking..bite....delicious....bite...gonna make sure you have our pups gonna keep your sweet pussy forever."

The finger that had been playing with your clit slid back he held eye contact with you as he pushed the finger inside. "Your poor cunt she's so needy only put my thumb in and she trying so hard to take me deeper to have more." He growled as he pulled his thumb out replacing it with three more. He and his brothers where all large and you where just a poor tiny bunny compared to them. Letting out a startled cry you clawed at the sheets underneath you. Back arching while grinding your hips onto the hand that was currently bring you close to the best orgasm you've ever has. Darius's eyes flashed at the sight of you cumming undone around his fingers. He quickly.pulled out his fingers flipping you back onto your stomach. Quickly sliding them back inside before you could let out any protest.

"Please Dare I... I'm gonna cum again." You gasped out making him gladly pick up the pace. Moaning loudly when suddenly his hand came down slapping your clit. You let out a sound that you'd never heard yourself make before eyes slamming shut and head thrown back as the pain made you squirt on his fingers.

"Fuck baby girl trying to milk my fingers dry. Let's give you something big and hard that you can get all those needy spots for you sweetheart." Darius shifted and dragged the head of his cock along your sensitive clit enjoying the soft whimpers and needy cries that kept escaping your lips.

"Please Dare fuck me I want you to fill me up. Wanna take your knot like a good girl." You gasped out reaching for him.

"Fuck baby girl gonna fuck you hard and deep." Darius snarled as he leaned over you slowly pushing his cock into your dripping heat. He moaned kissing you his tongue demanding entrance to distract you from the burning pain of stretching on his cock. As you returned the kiss he grabbed your hips pushing into you till his knot didn't allow him to go any further. You whinned at the feeling you where already so full and could feel his knot pressed against your lips, rubbing on your clit as Darius lazily rolled his hips.

"Sooo big.... I don't think I'll be able to take your knot." You cried soft tears sliding down your cheeks. You'd never been so full before or so sensitive. Darius looked down at you his eyes soft.

"You will sweetheart I'm gonna start moving okay and while I do why don't you play with your pretty pussy for me." You nodded at his wishes biting your lip as you dragged you hand to your clit. Before giving your clit some attention as your fingers gave your clit a light pinch. Darius pulled out and as you pulled on the sensitive bud he slammed back in. You cried out clenching tightly around his girth at the sensation it was to much you dropped your hands away from your cunt gripping tightly on to the sheet beneath you as Darius began to pound into you. You'd swear he was trying to hit your cervix and with how deep he was you where sure he would in no time.

Darius had lost it and the poor little rabbit under him had no clue. The sight of her hair spread out along her back, her pretty eyes glistening with unshed tears he couldn't wait to draw out, and then when she pulled on her pretty nipples biting her lip as he slammed himself deep inside of her fuck. He couldn't think anymore he wanted one thing and one thing only and that was to fill his mate with his seed. He listened to your sweet cries as he continued to pound himself deep inside of you pushing against all your sweet spot adjusting to what made you tighten up or what didn't. And as you came on his cock he roared dropping himself down placing his face into your neck picking and nibbling at the spot he was gonna mark. He thrust deep his cock piercing your cervix while his knot slid into you with a soft pop. He couldn't stop himself from sinking his teeth into your throat. You saw stars as you came around his knot his cum warm and thick as it began to fill you.

"Fuck. That was hot." You startled out of your haze at the sound of a new voice. Looking by the chair you saw 3 more alpha males standing taking in the erotica scene infront of them.

(Part 2 as soon as I can I'm a perfectionist and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to post this 🫢)

#monster fucker #monster smut #hybrid #monster x reader smut #beginner writer #prey k!nk

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spiicii · 2 months ago

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jey uso / rut

x fem!reader word count → 8.5k summary → jey goes into an unexpected rut in the middle of a match. now driven by animalistic desire and instinct, he’ll rip the entire backstage apart to find the one person he yearns for: you. notes → this is the ask that started it all but i've gotten a few other requests for this prompt too! thank you @darkandlight00 for showing interest and for @minteagalaxea and @acute-crashout-jeyuso for keeping me motivated. pls enjoy a gratuitous gunther beatdown as well as some wonderfully feral jey for your viewing pleasure. links → masterlist / taglist tags → alternative universe, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, possessive behavior, biting, bruises, daddy kink (if you squint), canon-typical violence, unprotected piv sex, knotting, ruts and heats, mentions of blood, scent marking, breeding kink

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, reaching up to trace the bites and bruises Jey had left on your neck. He’d been uncommonly rough tonight, his mouth blazing a warpath across your delicate skin. While it wasn’t unusual for him to be possessive, the marks had been a little too deep, a little too bruising. The last time he’d marked you like this he’d been in his rut.

“M’sorry.”

Jey moved up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. His eyes flickered down to the rapidly darkening bruises at the base of your throat. You could tell he was remorseful, offering an apologetic kiss to your cheek when he met your gaze in the mirror.

"Guess I went a little overboard, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head back to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Just a little.”

Jey pulled you closer, nosing at the sweet spot behind your ear to scent mark you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t push him away. He’d been uncommonly clingy today, rubbing his scent on you every chance he got. As if you could ever smell like anyone else.

“I hate this.” He muttered, his brow furrowed as he stared down at you.

“Hate what?”

“Those stupid heat suppressants. They starting to take your scent away.”

You met his frustrated gaze in the mirror, offering him a reassuring smile. “I know, sweetheart, but that’s the point. It’ll be better this way.”

Jey pouted, but he didn’t argue. You both knew how important it was for you to be on the pills now that you’d started this new job. Being backstage at WWE meant that you were surrounded by alphas. As an unmated omega, your scent would be nothing but a distraction. And the last thing you needed was going into heat at a job with so many unmated alphas roaming around.

“It don’t feel right.” Jey muttered, still trying to take in as much of your scent as he could. You’d only be on the pills for a few days, but they were already beginning to do their job. In a few weeks you’d barely have a scent at all.

“Those are your instincts talking, baby.” You told him, reaching up to run your fingers through his soft hair. “You already get mad when another alpha even looks in my direction. You think you’ll be any different at work?”

“You could just not work at all.” Jey met your eyes in the mirror again, his arms tight around your waist. “Stay home. Let me take care of you.”

He scraped his teeth across the scent glands on your neck, the implication clear.

You knew he wanted to make things official and mate you, but you didn’t feel ready. You’d grown up with parents who had mated too quickly and things hadn’t ended well for them. You’d seen what happens when a mated pair grows to loathe each other. No matter how unhappy they were, they couldn’t leave. Couldn’t move on. They were still a slave to their instincts, their biology tying them together until one of them died.

You couldn’t go through that. You wouldn’t go through that, especially with Jey. You didn’t want to mate until you were completely certain it was what both of you wanted. If you were going to be tied together for life, you had to be sure.

Still, you couldn’t deny the small thrill that ran through you as Jey nosed at the mating mark on your neck, your body instinctively leaning into his touch. There was a small part of you that wanted to let him bite there, officially claiming you as his, but you forced yourself to move away.

“I don’t want to stay home.” You murmured, reaching up to play with his beard. “I want to work. This is important to me, Jey. I’m not ready to give up my career just yet.”

Jey seemed disappointed, but he didn’t argue with you. Instead, he moved his hand to rest over your stomach, right above where you womb sat. His dark eyes met yours. He seemed almost hopeful, a silent promise for a future you both wanted but weren’t yet ready for.

You resisted the instinctual urge to purr, knowing it would only encourage him.

“I’m going back to bed.” You told him instead, standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his bearded cheek. “You coming?”

Jey could only nod, watching as you made your way back to the bedroom.

You and Jey had been dating for almost two years now, but it had taken some time for you to work up the courage to move in with him. You’d never had a partner to nest with before. Nesting was intimate. Just one step closer to mating.

Despite your fears, you couldn’t deny how natural it felt with Jey. He’d allowed you to follow your instincts and create a nest in your shared bedroom, ensuring that your scents were mixed together amongst the mountain of blankets and pillows you’d piled onto the bed. You’d put a canopy up to make it feel more like a den, the omega inside you yearning for a small space to feel safe in.

It was your favorite place in the world.

You quickly climbed up onto the bed, motioning for Jey to join you. To your surprise, Jey just stood there and stared at you instead, his dark eyes inscrutable.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Jey shifted uneasily. “I don’t know,” he murmured, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I think I need to check the house.”

You raised an eyebrow. He got like this sometimes, whenever he was feeling particularly protective, usually before his ruts. He would do a “check” of the house, ensuring that every window was locked, every door was closed, every curtain was drawn. It made him feel better, knowing that he was making your nest safer, that instinct to protect you driving him to pace the house restlessly until he was convinced his territory was safe.

But he shouldn’t be feeling like that now. His rut wasn’t due until the winter. You wondered if your heat suppressants were throwing him off, making him restless and confused. You knew how strongly alphas responded to scent changes, especially in their partners.

“Sweetheart, we’re okay.” You offered him a reassuring smile, motioning for him again. “Come back to bed.”

Jey shook his head, now beginning to move around the room in agitation. “No. No, I gotta keep you safe.”

He quickly moved to the window, checking each lock with a worried expression. You stood and reached out to him, a soft hand resting on his arm.

“Baby, it’s alright.” You murmured. You let out a subvocal purr, an instinctual urge to soothe the restless alpha. “We’re safe. It’s okay.”

Jey was quick to snatch you up, picking you up with ease and carrying you back to bed before you could argue.

“Stay.” He growled, his eyes much darker than usual. You stared at him in confusion, even as your body instinctively relaxed at his dominant words, the urge to obey him overwhelming.

“Jey.” You pleaded, though he wasn’t paying any attention to you. He continued to check the room, eventually leaving to no doubt check the rest of the house as well.

You curled up deeper into your nest while you waited for him. Why was he so protective tonight? Your hand came up to trace the bites on your neck. His unusual roughness, combined with the uptick in his protectiveness, were usually signs of his pre-rut. But how was that possible? Jey’s ruts had been consistent since he first presented as a teenager. They’d never changed, no matter how much stress he was under. While it wasn’t impossible for alphas to have multiple ruts a year, Jey never had before.

Perhaps it really was your heat suppressants causing all this. The thick booklet the doctor had given you detailing the side effects of the drug discussed the effect the suppressants had on scent. And alphas weren’t exactly known for dealing with scent changes well, especially in their mates.

But we’re not mated. You told yourself. Although the mingled scents of your nest told a different story.

Eventually Jey returned, still rubbing his hands together anxiously as he paced the room. You sat up to look at him, beginning to purr again in an effort to soothe him.

“Jey, sweetheart, please come back to bed.”

Jey didn’t seem convinced, doubling back to the bedroom door to make sure it was locked again.

You sighed. You’d have to get creative if you wanted him to join you.

“I’m so lonely without you, baby,” You whined, laying it on a bit thicker than usual. You offered him your best bedroom eyes. “I need you. Please, Daddy. Come to bed.”

Jey was on top of you so quickly that you couldn’t help but laugh.

*****

You were sore the next morning.

Jey had fucked you through most of the night, that possessive look in his eyes never fading no matter how many times he came inside you. If Jey’s biology hadn’t been so consistent throughout his life, you would have been convinced it was his pre-rut.

You were grateful when he woke up the next morning back to his old self again. He was all smiles and jokes as he kissed you awake, his body relaxed as he held you close. And when you left the nest to make him breakfast, he had no objections, merely following you to the kitchen to keep you company as you scrambled some eggs.

He looked so good this morning, his sweatpants slung low on his hips and his chest bare as he leaned against the kitchen island. His mullet was still messy from sleep, his tattoos glistening in the morning light that slanted through the windows. If you weren’t so sore from last night, you’d probably ask him to fuck him right here on the kitchen counter. Instead, you asked him, “Are you feeling okay this morning? You seemed…different last night.”

Jey raised an eyebrow. “What kind of different?”

You rolled your eyes, motioning to the bruises on your neck. “Don’t you feel like this was a bit much?”

Jey seemed apologetic. He shuffled to your side, pressing a kiss to a particularly nasty bruise he’d left beneath your jaw. “I told you I was sorry.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist again to pull you close. “I ain’t mean to take it that far.”

You sighed. “I know, baby. I’m not mad. I’m just worried about you.”

“Why?” Jey’s tone was defensive, his body tensing behind you. “Ain’t nothing wrong with me.”

You didn’t want to argue with him, but you also didn’t want him going to work if he was about to go into a rut. You turned around to stare at him. “You don’t think maybe these are all signs?”

“For a pre-rut?” Jey scowled. “It can’t be. I already had mine this year.”

“I know, but-”

“You worrying for no reason.” Jey interrupted, keeping his long arms wrapped around your waist. “I told you I’m fine. So, I wanna check my house and keep my girl safe? That a bad thing?”

“No, but-”

“Then don’t worry.” Jey pressed a reassuring kiss to your cheek. “Please. I don’t like seeing you get worked up.”

You frowned, but you didn’t argue with him. Maybe he was right. If he really was in his pre-rut, you doubt he would have let you leave the nest at all this morning, let alone come into the kitchen to cook for him. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He still seemed on edge, his words a little too defensive to have you convinced that he was fine.

But then Jey smiled at you, his face so open and happy that you couldn’t help but smile back. No, you were wrong. Jey was fine. You were worrying for nothing. He was fine. Everything was fine.

*****

When you arrived at the arena that afternoon, you gave Jey a quick hug, already preparing to part ways. You both had responsibilities tonight.

“I’ll see you after the show, baby,” you murmured, standing on your tiptoes to peck a quick kiss to his lips. “Good luck in your match tonight.”

You moved away, as if to leave, but Jey was quick to grab your wrists, pulling you back into his chest.

“Jey.” You complained, trying to wiggle from his grasp. “You gotta go see your trainers.”

Jey’s hand was quick to grab your jaw, forcing your face up to look at him. You immediately stilled.

“You’ll be waiting for me?” he asked, his tone urgent. “After my match?”

You gave him a strange look. “Of course, baby. Don’t I always?”

“You won’t leave.” It sounded more like a command than a question. His eyes seemed darker than usual and you noticed that his hand on your face felt hot to the touch. “You won’t leave the arena.”

“Why would I leave? Won’t you need a ride home?” You tried to chuckle but Jey didn’t even crack a smile, his hand on your jaw tightening.

“You’ll stay here and wait for me.” There was an edge behind his words, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you. “You won’t go anywhere. And when the show’s over, we’ll go home.”

You let out a small whimper at the punishing grip he kept on your jaw and Jey blinked, seemingly unaware of how tightly he was holding you. He quickly released your face, shaking his head in confusion.

“Sorry, I-” He seemed uncertain, wiping some new beads of sweat that were forming on his brow. “I just felt a little weird there for a second.”

You couldn’t help but purr, an instinctive reaction at the sight of his distress, and Jey immediately relaxed at the sound. It was something omegas did to soothe their alphas and you were grateful that Jey reacted so well to it. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, allowing you to pet his hair in reassurance. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

“Jey,” You couldn’t keep the worried tone out of your voice. “I think we should-”

“Jey! There you are!” One of his trainers had found the two of you in the parking lot. He looked breathless, as if he’d been running to look for him. “We got a lot of shit to cover tonight. Let’s go, come on.”

Jey immediately straightened, pulling away from you. He passed a hand over his face and you could tell he was trying to pull himself together. “Yeah, yeah. You got it, uce.”

Jey looked back at you, his gaze apologetic. “Sorry, honey.” He murmured. “I’ll see you after the show.”

You frowned. “Jey, I don’t think it’s-”

“Hunter’s been looking for you, Jey.” The trainer interrupted, motioning to him with urgency. “Come on, we need to go. Like now.”

Jey quickly followed, casting one final look over his shoulder at you before retreating. You nervously watched him leave. Should you follow him? It was clear something was off.

Your phone vibrated and you groaned when you saw the missed messages. Your coworkers were already looking for you, no doubt eager to begin prepping for the show. You quickly responded that you were on your way, forcing your anxieties down. Jey was a grown man. He knew his body better than anyone. If he felt he could get through his match tonight, you trusted him.

You had no other choice.

*****

“Hey, sis.” Jimmy’s smile was wide, pulling you into a tight hug in greeting. “Where you been all night?”

You returned his hug with a laugh. “I’m working now, remember? Gotta go where they tell me.”

“True, true.” Jimmy chuckled, pulling away from the hug to smile at you. He was dressed casual tonight, wearing his usual hoodie and black joggers, his gold chain glittering in the light. Although he was normally on SmackDown, he still came to Monday Night Raw whenever he could to see the two of you. You knew he couldn’t go too long without seeing his twin.

“Hopefully they ain’t working you too hard.” Jimmy teased, giving you a gentle nudge with his elbow. “I know how Hunter can get.”

You shook your head. “Nah. I like it. And getting to come to work with Jey has been nice too.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy’s smile dropped at the mention of his brother’s name, his face suddenly worried. “That’s actually what I was hoping to talk to you about.”

“What? About Jey?”

“Mm hm.” Jimmy moved closer to you, lowering his voice so others couldn’t overhear. “I saw him earlier tonight. What’s going on with him? He seems off.”

You swallowed. Was it that obvious? Or was it just because it was his twin? You knew the two had a special bond.

Jimmy seemed to notice the conflict on your face. “Is he sick or something? He just seemed weird to me when we talked earlier.”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, fidgeting uncomfortably under Jimmy’s worried gaze. “He kept saying he was fine. But he was acting weird last night too.”

“What kind of weird?”

You shifted uneasily and Jimmy caught sight of the bruises you’d been hiding beneath your hoodie, his eyes narrowing at the sight.

“He do that to you?”

You didn’t answer and Jimmy gave a concerned look.

“That’s ain’t like him. Unless he’s in his pre-rut.” Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Is he?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I thought so at first. He got so protective last night, like he normally does before his ruts. Then with how long he kept me up…” You didn’t finish the sentence, suddenly very aware that you were still in public. “But he let me out of the house today, Jim. He wouldn’t do that if it was that time of year. And he’s already had his rut back in February, so it can’t be. Can it?”

Jimmy seemed uncertain, rubbing his neck in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “He ain’t ever had more than one a year before, but it’s not impossible. He’s been under a lot of stress at work.”

You stared up at him, your own gaze just as nervous. “What should we do? You know he won’t leave. He’s got that match with Gunther tonight.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Jimmy pulled out his phone. “Look, I gotta cut this promo, then I’ll meet you in Gorilla. You’re gonna be there to watch his match, right?”

You nodded.

“Once I finish this, I’ll come join you. Then if some shit goes down, I can be there.” He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze at you kind. “Don’t worry, sis. You know I ain’t gonna leave him hanging. He’s my brother. I got his back. And yours.”

You offered him a small smile, but it must have looked weak because Jimmy quickly pulled you into a hug. You allowed yourself to relax into it, knowing that he was trying to ease some of your fears. You knew Jimmy wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Or his brother. The Bloodline operated like a pack and although you weren’t officially Jey’s mate, they knew you were his chosen. That made you one of them, which meant that Jimmy was responsible for you, just as he was for any other omega who joined his pack.

“It’ll be alright,” he murmured, nosing behind your ear to scent mark you in reassurance. You relaxed even more at his smell. It wasn’t quite the same as Jey’s, but it was close enough to calm you. “Just hang in there. I’ll meet you in Gorilla.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to take a deep breath as Jimmy squeezed your shoulder and walked away.

You needed to keep it together. This wasn’t the time to succumb to your instincts, no matter how badly the omega inside you wanted to drop everything and seek Jey out. The mere idea of your alpha in distress had your heart racing, your hormones going haywire at the thought.

When you arrived to Gorilla Position, you tried not to fidget, offering a polite smile to everyone who greeted you. You were glad when Jimmy finally arrived.

“Hey.” Jimmy’s hand was on your shoulder again and your body instinctively leaned into his touch. “You okay?”

You forced yourself to nod, though you knew it didn’t look convincing. Your instincts were beginning to cloud your mind, seeking out a strong alpha like Jimmy to keep you grounded in your distress.

Thankfully, Jimmy was able to sense it.

“It’s alright.” he soothed, nosing behind your ear again to offer you more of his scent. You wanted it to comfort you, but it didn’t. He didn’t smell right. You wanted Jey. He was your partner. Your chosen. And you couldn’t stop worrying about him.

“I think I messed up, Jimmy.” You admitted, wringing your hands together nervously. “I knew something was wrong, but I still let him come here. I should have kept him at home. I should have seen the signs.”

“Hey,” Jimmy’s arms were around you again, pulling you into another hug. He’d had plenty of experience with Naomi to know when an omega was beginning to spiral. He kept his arms tight around you, your body instinctively relaxing in his hold. “We don’t know for sure what’s going on. But whatever it is, we know that Jey can handle it. And we’ll be here for him the whole time, right?”

You nodded into his hoodie, forcing yourself to control your breathing. You knew that your hormones were fueling your anxiety, making it difficult to separate fact from fiction. Just the knowledge that your alpha might be in any kind of pain or trouble was triggering this, you knew, but you had to resist it the best that you could.

A few people around you began to murmur and realized that Gunther was making his way through Gorilla, ready to be in position for his entrance. You watched as his nostrils flared, his eyes turning to meet yours once he caught wind of your scent.

You didn’t miss the protective way Jimmy’s arm wrapped around you, his hackles immediately raised as the Ring General approached.

“You must be Jey Uso’s mate.” Gunther said, stepping forward until he was in your personal space. You huddled closer to Jimmy on instinct, feeling safer in the arms of an alpha you trusted. “I can smell him on you. Him and his pack.”

He met Jimmy’s burning gaze and grinned when the older twin curled his lip in anger.

“You smell distressed, little one.” Gunther mused, his gaze down at you curious. “Worried about what I will do to your mate tonight?”

“You better watch yo’ mouth, uce.” Jimmy snarled, the scent of his anger bleeding into the air around you. “Or else you won’t even make it out to the ring.”

Gunther seemed amused by the threat, offering Jimmy a smirk as he towered over you. You noticed that he was staring at you intently, his eyebrows raised when he finally caught sight of your neck.

“Well, well. I spoke too soon. No mating bite, I see. So, Jey is not truly your mate then, is he?” Gunther’s words were mocking, seemingly delighted by this revelation. “A shame he hasn’t officially claimed you, little one. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. Lesser alphas certainly aren’t as eager to stake their claim, are they?”

Jimmy took a step forward, his eyes blazing with anger, before one of the PAs intervened.

“Thirty seconds.” He informed Gunther, his eyes flickering between the two alphas. “You’d better take your position.”

The Ring General smirked, casting Jimmy one final look. “After I finish Jey tonight, you can tell your pack leader, Roman, to come find me. I wouldn’t mind a real challenge for a change.”

Gunther’s eyes swept over you one last time before he finally retreated, exiting Gorilla to make his way to the ring. You tried to swallow back some of the bile that had risen to your throat. Gunther’s smell had left a nasty taste in your mouth, his oppressive scent causing you to feel even more edge than before.

“I hate that fucker.” Jimmy muttered. He turned his gaze back to you, his expression softening. “You alright?”

You nodded, subconsciously reaching up a hand to touch the unclaimed part of your neck. You couldn’t deny that some of Gunther’s words had stung. He’d seemed far too amused to learn that Jey hadn’t officially mated you yet, his gaze at you almost triumphant, as if you had proven something that he’d known all along.

“Hey, don’t worry about him.” Jimmy said, his arm still wrapped around you to keep you close. “He just trying to get in your head. It’s a game to him. That’s all.”

You nodded again, leaning against his strong chest in an effort to calm your rattled nerves. You watched on the nearest TV as Gunther entered the ring, his expression cold as he stared down the throngs of booing fans. You didn’t miss the way his gaze flickered around him, no doubt searching for where Jey might enter from.

Thankfully, Jey didn’t keep him waiting long.

His music hit and the fans erupted into cheers, the ground beneath your feet shaking from the roar of the crowd. The camera found Jey amongst the audience and you couldn’t help but notice that he’d forgone his usual bright colors to wear all black, as if he were going to a funeral. He didn’t seem interested in reveling with the audience tonight, his face serious as he made his way down to the ring.

“He doesn’t seem like himself.” You murmured.

“He’s okay.” Jimmy was quick to reassure you, rubbing your arm in an attempt to comfort you. “It’s all part of the show.”

Was it?

The bell rang and Jey wasted no time, immediately charging Gunther and backing him into the corner, much to Gunther’s amusement. They exchanged a few words, but the microphone didn’t pick it up, the referee already pulling Jey back to give Gunther space to get out of the corner.

As the match continued, it was clear that Jey was agitated, not even bothering to acknowledge his adoring fans like he usually did, his eyes entirely focused on his opponent. You couldn’t help but notice that his body seemed stiff, his movements jerky as he attempted to keep up with Gunther’s punishing pace.

At one point, Gunther gave him a particularly brutal chop and you watched as Jey stumbled, his face twisted into a grimace.

“Come on, uce.” You heard Jimmy mutter, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the TV screen. “Don’t let him in your head.”

Gunther seemed determined to try. You watched as he grappled with Jey in the middle of the ring, chuckling something in his ear that the camera couldn’t pick up. Jey’s eyes burned in anger, shoving Gunther away to offer a superkick to his chin.

The crowd roared their approval, Gunther dazed as he stumbled into the ropes. But it was only momentary. When Jey tried to come at him again, Gunther was too quick, already grabbing Jey by the arm and slinging him into the turnbuckle. You watched in horror as Jey crumpled, his face a mask of pain.

You began wringing your hands together in nervousness, your body thrumming with anxiety as you watched Jey struggle back to his feet.

“It’s a shame I don’t have any worthy opponents for tonight,” You heard Gunther say, his expression smug as he kicked Jey in the stomach, forcing him back to his knees. “I was hoping for more of a challenge, Jey. You disappoint me.”

He grabbed Jey by the hair, forcing the smaller alpha to look up at him. “You’re not even the strongest in your pack. They could have at least given me the other twin. That would have been less of an insult.”

You realized that Jey’s mouth was bleeding, his lip split from where it had collided with the turnbuckle. You watched in horror as Gunther quickly hauled Jey to his feet, his smile sadistic as he held him up by the hair. “Your pack leader is the only one I see fit to challenge me. But he’s not here to protect you anymore, is he, Jey?”

Before you realized what was happening, Gunther had maneuvered Jey’s body in front of him, picking him up with ease and slamming down onto the mat in a brutal powerbomb. Jey groaned in pain, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to crawl away.

Gunther laughed, continuing to spit insults even as Jey grabbed at the ropes in an attempt to pull himself up. His trash talk was difficult to hear over the boos from the crowd, but you still managed to catch one word: omega.

Your blood ran cold. You watched as Jey froze, still on his knees with his head turned away from the camera. His chest was heaving, his knuckles blanched from how hard he was gripping the ropes. Gunther didn’t seem to notice, still taunting him with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

You could feel Jimmy tense beside you, clearly understanding, just as you were, that Gunther had said something very wrong.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened next. One minute Jey was kneeling near the ropes, his head bowed and his body tense. The next minute he was exploding from the mat, attacking Gunther with such ferocity that even the crowd was stunned.

Gunther landed on his back with a loud thud. Jey was quickly on top of him, landing blow after blow to his face. His expression was murderous, his teeth bared like an animal. And when the camera zoomed in, you could see that his pupils had swallowed the soft brown of his irises, his eyes wild as he continued to pummel Gunther with his fists.

You clutched Jimmy’s arm in fear. You wanted to speak but you couldn’t, realizing with horror that Gunther’s taunting, likely about you, had finally triggered Jey’s rut.

Jimmy quickly pulled away, approaching Hunter and the other producers from where they sat behind the desk.

“Cut the match!” You heard him demand, his tone now laced with panic. He didn’t want the world to see his brother in such a vulnerable state. “He can’t continue! Rule it a DQ, now!”

You could hear Jimmy and Hunter arguing, but you weren't able to turn around to look at them. Your eyes were glued to the screen, watching with horror as Gunther put his hands up in an attempt to push Jey off him. Gunther was stronger, but Jey was meaner. He was quick to shove Gunther’s hands away, landing a particularly nasty strike to his nose that caused blood to spray across the mat.

You realized that Gunther’s shoulder wasn’t entirely off the mat, leaving the referee with no choice but to try to pull Jey off of him. Jey snarled, the sound so loud and animalistic, even through the camera, that the hair on the back of your neck stood up. The referee quickly backed away, beginning the five count.

The crowd was going wild. Michael and Pat’s commentary was almost impossible to hear over the commotion, though you could imagine that they were scrambling to find some kind of explanation for Jey’s irrational behavior.

The referee reached the five count and the bell rang, effectively ending the match, but Jey still refused to move, continuing to bludgeon Gunther’s face with angry, hard-hitting punches.

You heard Hunter shouting for security, all the producers around him all rapidly talking over their headsets. You jumped when Jimmy grabbed you by the arm. “You need to leave.” He told you, his tone urgent.

“What?”

“He can’t find you here.” Jimmy insisted, his eyes flickering to the screen as more referees got involved, still trying to pull Jey off of Gunther. “He’ll jump you right here in front of everyone and we won’t be able to move you. You gotta get further backstage.”

You were nodding in agreement, though your mind was racing. Where would you go? Backstage was crawling with staff and talent.

“Gimme your hoodie.” Jimmy demanded. You hesitantly allowed him to pull it over your head, staring at him in confusion.

“He won’t leave Gunther alone.” Jimmy pointed to the TV. You could see that security had finally entered the ring, trying their best to pull the feral alpha away from Gunther. Gunther had stopped fighting back a long time ago, now lying motionless on the mat, his face bloody.

“Your smell is the only way we can get him out of the ring. But once he gets your scent he’ll come back here looking for you.” He quickly pushed you towards the exit, motioning for you to leave. “Go. I’ll take care of everything else. It’ll be alright.”

You hesitated, unable to tear your gaze away from the screen. Jey’s face was hardly recognizable, his eyes wild. His teeth were bared as he tried to fight security, still bloodstained from his earlier collision with the turnbuckle.

“Go!” Jimmy pushed you again. “Unless you want this to happen right here in front of everyone.”

You didn’t, so you quickly obeyed, retreating further backstage as fast as your feet could carry you.

You ignored the concerned looks from your coworkers, a few of the wrestlers watching you with curious expressions. Most of them knew who you were, of course, and could probably infer what had happened in the ring tonight. You could hear various snippets from conversations as you walked past.

Did you see…Had to be a rut, right?

Damn, this hasn’t happened since Orton back in ‘09.

I never thought Jey would be the one to snap. I always thought it’d be Jimmy.

Come on, you know he can’t control it.

You think Hunter will give him a fine?

He tore Gunther up. So much for a match at Mania.

Isn’t that Jey’s mate? Guess he’ll be looking for her.

You tried to ignore them, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way back to the staff locker room. You shakily pulled out your phone, trying to remember how long you’d been on the heat suppressants. Had it been a full week yet? They weren’t truly effective until you’d been on them for a full seven days. There was still a chance Jey could trigger your heat. Which meant there was still a chance he could get you pregnant.

You needed to get to your bag. You always carried an emergency heat contraceptive, just in case.

You heard a loud commotion behind you, the sound of Jey ripping apart the backstage echoing down the hallway. You could hear shouting, no doubt security trying to contain him. You realized that your scent was likely faint; Jey had just mentioned last night how it was beginning to fade. Perhaps that would give you more time.

You cursed yourself for getting into this situation in the first place. The signs had been obvious: his roughness with you, his obsession with keeping you safe, keeping you up all night with seemingly unlimited stamina. You never should have let him leave the house. Now you were stuck in a random arena, nowhere near your comfortable nest at home, with a feral alpha on the hunt for you. You were beginning to realize that wherever Jey found you, that’s where you would stay until his rut was over. And his ruts usually lasted two, maybe three days.

By the time you reached the staff locker room, your hands were shaking. You quickly shut the door behind you, grateful that the room was empty. You ran to your bag to search for the small syringe, the commotion from Jey’s pursuit growing louder and louder from outside the door. You heard what sounded like a table being thrown, Jimmy’s voice becoming clearer as he tried to calm his brother down.

Your hands were shaking so much that you dropped your bag, the contents spilling across the floor.

“Shit!” You fell to your knees, scrambling to find the contraceptive. Surely you hadn’t forgotten it? You could still hear the chaos of Jey’s search for you echoing down the hallway. He’d tear this entire arena apart if he didn’t find you soon.

You finally found the syringe, struggling to open the safety seal as Jey’s snarls grew louder. He was getting close. You didn’t have much time left.

By the time you jabbed the needle into your side, Jey had made it to the door.

You weren’t entirely prepared to see him like this. He seemed larger than life as he stood in the doorway, his nostrils flaring as he followed your scent. His lip was curled into a menacing snarl, his lip still split and his teeth bloody. And when his eyes landed on you, you could see his eyes grow darker, zeroing in on his prey.

You saw Jimmy standing behind him in the doorway, catching sight of the syringe in your hand.

“Oh, thank god.” Jimmy sighed in relief, and that’s when Jey moved.

He crossed the room impossibly fast, colliding into you with such a force that you both fell back onto the floor.

“Jey…” His name came out breathless, your heart thrumming like a frightened rabbit beneath his rough hands. His usual scent was much sweeter now, a side effect of his rut, and you felt dizzy with it. His heightened scent, combined with the feeling of him on top of you, had wetness rapidly forming between your legs.

Jey’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as the smell of your arousal bled into the air around you. He let out a low snarl, ripping away your shirt and pants and flipping you onto your stomach with ease. You gasped, your body shivering in anticipation as he started pushing his cock inside you.

You knew his mind was entirely focused on one thing: to breed. He wasn’t here to make you feel good. He was here to claim you, to take you and make you his. To fill you up with his seed and give you a litter of his pups. A low fog was beginning to settle over your mind at the thought, your back instinctively arching as Jey finally bottomed out.

You let out a moan as his massive length split you open. Jey growled again, his teeth digging into the back of your neck possessively as he began fucking into you. Pleasure was already beginning to unfurl from your core. Although he hadn’t prepped you beforehand, your body was taking him with ease, as if you were made for him. You could feel his knot beginning to form, your hole getting wetter and wetter to accommodate it.

Jey’s teeth dug deeper into your neck. His entire body was still shaking with adrenaline, but it didn’t slow him down. Instead, he fucked into you with the desperation only a rut could bring, his bloody hands gripping your hips as he continued to brutally thrust into you.

You arched your back even further at the feeling, soft pants of breath falling from your open mouth. You could already feel your first orgasm approaching even as his knot grew bigger, putting pressure on your insides.

“Jey.” You gasped, gushing around his cock without warning. You hadn’t expected to finish so quickly, your body shaking like a leaf beneath him. Jey let out a pleased sound, his knot reaching its full size inside of you when he finally came. His hips stilled. You could feel his throbbing cock pump you full, the knot keeping you tied together.

For the first time since Jey arrived, the room was quiet. You let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against the floor. You were grateful the staff locker room had been empty. You had no doubt that Jey would have fucked you on the floor in front of everyone had you not made it here in time. While it wasn’t ideal, you had no choice now. Jey had claimed you here, so here is where you would stay until his rut ended. Jey could only act on instinct now, his biology completely hijacking his body and mind until it was satisfied.

Jey finally released his teeth from the scruff of your neck, softly licking at the skin he had torn in a wordless apology. You felt your body relax, even as your spasming hole continued to milk his cock as he stayed ball-deep inside of you.

You were glad your heat hadn’t been triggered yet. It would likely only prolong his rut and would leave you at the mercy of your own biology. The omega inside you was already unhappy with being away from your nest, feeling exposed and unsafe in this unfamiliar room. You couldn’t help but whimper and Jey was quick to check on you, leaning over you to nose at your cheek affectionately.

“Sis?” Jimmy’s voice had Jey growling again, his grip on your body tightening. “I need a sign of life, girl.”

You struggled to look over your shoulder, catching sight of Jimmy standing in the doorway. He looked worried, meeting your gaze with a concerned expression.

“You good?”

You could only nod, Jey whipping around to snarl loudly at his twin for the intrusion. He was vulnerable right now, his knot still keeping the two of you tethered. If Jimmy got too close, brotherly bonds wouldn’t matter. Jey would guard his territory, his instincts compelling him to challenge any alpha that got too close to his chosen omega.

“Alright, just hang in there. Trin’s on her way with supplies. We’re here for you, okay?”

You nodded again, unable to speak as Jey’s knot continued to pulse inside you. Jey was quick to lean over you, caging you in possessively until Jimmy finally retreated and closed the door behind him.

It took some time for Jey to finally relax, his eyes still darting to the door as if he expected another intrusion. Eventually his knot went down and you were able to pull apart, some of his come dribbling onto the floor below. You whimpered at the feeling and Jey was once again nosing at your cheek again, seemingly triggered by any sign of distress from you.

There was a couch on the other side of the room. It would feel a lot more comfortable than the floor, but when you made an effort to move in that direction Jey was quick to grab you, flipping you onto your back to keep you close.

His pupils were still blown wide, the blood from his split lip finally drying. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking about as he gazed at you. He didn’t look like your Jey. Not right now. This Jey wasn’t quite human, his instincts making it difficult for him to form a coherent thought.

He furrowed his brow, his expression almost distressed, and you couldn’t help but reach up a hand to cup his cheek in reassurance.

“It’s alright.” You soothed. You couldn’t be sure what was upsetting him and you knew he didn’t have the capacity to speak right now. “We’re okay. I’m here, baby.”

Jey frowned, reaching out a hand to touch your face. His knuckles were bruises, the skin bloody from his vicious attack on Gunther. You watched as his brow furrowed deeper, trying to focus enough to speak.

“Mine.” He rasped, his voice an octave deeper than usual. “Mine.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. Normally he wasn’t cognizant enough to speak, but you were pleased to hear him try. You reached up to pet his soft curls, watching with fondness as his eyelids fluttered at your touch.

“Yours.” You agreed.

Jey leaned down to kiss your neck and you let out a contented sigh, reaching your arms around him to keep him close. He nuzzled into your hair, his hands now gentle as he caressed your skin. Even when he was in his rut, acting on his most animalistic urges, Jey was still impossibly sweet. His instincts were to protect you. To keep you safe and happy. To love you.

Your heart swelled at the thought, suddenly filled with the stupid desire to bare your neck to him and allow him to mate you. Jey seemed to sense the shift, his teeth grazing across the mating mark on your neck. His instincts wouldn’t allow him to bite there unless you allowed it, but it didn’t stop him from nuzzling into it, almost a silent plea for you to finally let him claim you.

But it wouldn’t be right. You wanted the moment to be special. You wanted Jey to be fully cognizant and aware of what was going on, fully able to understand the significance of it. It wouldn’t be fair to do it now - not while he was in the middle of his rut and barely coherent. Barely human.

You could feel his cock twitching against the inside of your thigh, already gearing up for another round, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation. That seemed to spur Jey into action.

He finally released your neck, leaning back up to push his rapidly hardening length back into you. He let out a low moan as he sank into the tight, wet warmth between your legs and you couldn’t help but writhe in pleasure, struggling to keep your eyes open as he bottomed out. God, he felt so big. You were grateful the two of you fucked enough for you to be used to this. Otherwise this wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable as it felt now.

You let out a whine as his grip on you tightened, now beginning to hammer into you at full force. You scrabbled for purchase against his tattooed chest, his eyes dark as he stared down at you. He looked devastatingly beautiful like this, his bronze skin glistening with sweat and his brow furrowed in concentration as he fucked into you. Although you struggled to keep your eyes open, you didn’t want to look away.

You let out a gasp when he suddenly leaned down to bite near your collarbone, his instincts driving him to mark you as his in every way possible. You spread your legs wider to grant him better access and Jey yanked you closer, his possessive mouth already seeking out more of your skin to bite.

His sharp canines ghosted across your mating mark again and a new feeling of pleasure raced through you at the feeling. It took all of your willpower to keep from baring your neck to him. It was just biology, you tried to tell yourself. Just instincts. You could fight this, no matter how strong the desire to let him mate you was.

Still, you couldn’t deny the reaction your body had at the thought. You could feel a haze beginning to settle over your mind, the idea of finally belonging to him, of finally being mated, causing your leaking hole to spasm around Jey’s cock. Jey let out a low moan in response, his body still radiating heat as he loomed over you.

You could feel a new fog settling over your mind now, your own instincts urging you to go limp beneath your alpha’s rough hands and allow him to breed you. Jey’s pace was punishing, his hips never faltering even when he leaned up to grab at your thighs, pushing them forward to allow him better access to your swollen cunt. You felt helpless beneath him now, your brain beginning to shut down in favor of being good for him.

Jey seemed to sense the change, letting out a happy sound as he pushed you into a full mating press, his entire body weight pinning you to the floor. A wave of ecstasy washed over you, your mind now solely focused on him.

“Jey.” You pleaded, unable to tear your gaze away from his dark eyes.

They were the last thing you remembered before finally going under.

*****

Looking back, you could only remember bits and pieces of what happened after Jey triggered your heat.

You remembered Jey’s hands on your face, cradling you close to him as he continued to fuck into you. You remembered him wringing every ounce of pleasure from your body, giving you orgasm after orgasm until you were certain you couldn’t take anymore. You remembered Trinity entering the room, cooing soothing words that you couldn’t understand as she tried to get the two of you to drink some water. You remembered the sudden feeling of blankets and pillows around you, the air now smelling of your nest at home. You remembered Jey curling his body around yours, keeping you close to him as you both rested in between rounds.

When you finally emerged from your heat two days later, you were greeted to the sight of Jey’s sparkling brown eyes.

“Baby?” Jey’s voice was warm, his hands soft as he caressed your bruised skin. “You good?”

It took you some time to realize that you were still in the staff locker room, the two of you huddled together on the couch beneath a blanket that smelled like home. Jey had his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as you struggled to return to reality.

Your brain was foggy, but you were acutely aware that every muscle in your body ached. Jesus, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this sore. You reached up your arm in an effort to stretch it and let out a low moan of pain for your trouble.

“It’s alright,” Jey soothed, quickly reaching out to massage the sore muscles of your arm. “It’s okay, baby. Just relax for me.”

You obeyed, leaning against his strong chest as he continued to massage you, his beard tickling your neck he pressed another kiss to your jaw.

“My sweet girl,” he praised, pulling you close so he could press his nose into your hair. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. I love you so much.”

You hummed in contentment, your eyes closing as Jey cradled you in his arms. You didn’t care that your body ached or that your skin was bruised and raw or that your lips were dry and your stomach was cramping. None of it really mattered. All that mattered was Jey’s arms were around you, his lips impossibly soft as he peppered your face with kisses. And when he smiled, his gaze at you adoring and his eyes crinkled with laughter, you knew you were going to be okay.

_____

besties: @acute-crashout-jeyuso @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage @minteagalaxea @annyanse @nbanenefrmdao @wishyouloveme @glittergirl7 @bloodline-fanacc @key05marie @mzv11 @neytiri-20 @ayeeeitsmiracle @buttercup0024 @punksyeet @pr0wlerpunk @lilucey @cassrox @cosmiccandydreamer @sarlaccussy @fearlesschimera @hadesorion @rollinssection @levissslutt

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peanutpinet · 10 months ago

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Soft for You - Sylus x Fem Reader

Prompt: “Let me kiss it better”

A/N: yes, I’ve fallen into this rabbit hole and all because of Sylus. There’s just something about white haired men with red eyes that’s 190cm. Hates everyone but you T^T I’m such a sucker for these characters and it doesn’t help that I’m on my period so I decided to make a lil one shot of how Sylus would react if you’re on your period and wanting to cuddle but he was in an important meeting

Warning: None, just fluff (not proofread, sorry, was so into writing this)

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

“Miss, I don’t think it’s a good idea to disturb the boss right now” Luke mentioned, trying to stop you from walking further down the hall

“Yeah, he’s in a meeting right now. And the meeting, well, it’s not really going that well” Kieran added on. “Some of the low workers were trying to steal his weapons and sell them off to a higher bidding at Linkon because we heard that Linkon is currently trying to find ways to get more intel regarding the boss”

You knew that Linkon was constantly trying to uncover the mysterious Onychinus’ leader. Though they knew his name, they couldn’t find anything regarding what he looked like or any other information about him. That’s why Linkon is willing to pay a hefty amount to those who have been associated with him to gather any sort of intel. But you could care less about what political issue was going on between Linkon and Onychinus. What you cared about was that you were in pain because of your period and you wanted to cuddle with Sylus because somehow, he always helped ease your pain.

Not caring about the twins’ warning, you managed to drag yourself all the way in front of Sylus’ meeting room where you could clearly hear his deep voice echoing along with several other voices. It sounded like the meeting had just begun and you suddenly contemplated on going in and disturbing Sylus just to tend to your pain.

However, on the other side of the door, Sylus already knew that you were in front of the door along with Luke and Kieran since he could see through Mephisto’s eyes with his aether core. Though Sylus wouldn’t mind you coming in, he wanted you to come to him first instead of jumping to conclusion that you were actually looking for him.

He learnt that from past incidents where you were actually looking for Luke and Kieran but Sylus jumped into conclusions and thought you were looking for him.

Right as Sylus was about to start the meeting, he could hear both Luke and Kieran’s frantic voices calling out to you. Without uttering a word, Sylus got up but not before making sure the men in the room stay put in their designated chairs. “None of you get up from the chair or I’ll rip your legs apart from your whole body”

After his calm threat, Sylus went to the door and opened it to find you on the ground with both Luke and Kieran holding onto you. When the twins looked up at their boss, the colour from their faces were slowly drained. “B-boss” the twins managed to utter out as Sylus looked at your weak state, basically trying to hold yourself up with the help of the twins.

Without saying anything, Sylus crouched down and lifted you up in his arms and practically carried you into the meeting room where all the other men in the room were staring.

“U-uh boss? We can bring her back to her room and…” the twins didn’t get to finish their sentences as Sylus used his evol to close and lock the door

To say the men in the room were shock was an understatement because who would have thought that the Onychinus leader could be so gentle towards anyone yet here he was sitting in his chair, further away from the others with you on his lap.

“S-sylus?” you uttered, looking up to see your boyfriend looking at you with soft eyes

“You alright, sweetie? I heard you from in here. You looked like you were going to pass out in the twins’ arms. What happened, sweetie? Did someone hurt you?” Sylus asked, his eyes were searching through your entire body for any wounds but you shook your head and leaned on his chest, wrapping your small arms around his waist

“No. It’s that time of the month. It’s the first day and I don’t know why but it’s painful this time” you whined and Sylus couldn’t help but coo at your vulnerable state that he brought you closer to his chest (if that was even possible with how close the two of you were).

“Shhh, it’s alright sweetie. I’m here” Sylus kissed the top of your head as you hummed in satisfaction. “Sleep sweetie, I’ll be here when you wake up, hmm? I’ll try to keep the meeting short and quick for you” Sylus mentioned as he lulled you to sleep

As he stroked your head like a kitten, Sylus the softie was gone as his eyes looked through the entire room with a cold, sharp gaze that if looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead by now. “Now, where were we? Ah, right. Where’s my share in the sales, gentlemen? Or did you think that you could fool me that easily by selling my weapons at a higher price by giving away some information about me?”

***

By the end of the meeting, there was practically no one in the room as Sylus dismissed them all into thin air since he needed to be quick.

Sylus almost cursed at himself for almost going too far with the lowlife men in the room until he remembered that you were practically sleeping in his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Sylus went back to look at your sleeping figure, stroking your head as he kissed your forehead before teleporting both you and him back to the master bedroom where Sylus laid you on the bed.

Leaving you to sleep, Sylus decided to shower and cook up something quick and easy for dinner which was steak and creamy mushroom soup to help ease your pain.

In the midst of finishing his cooking, he heard soft footsteps and a yawn slowly getting louder which he knew that it had to be you. Turning around, Sylus saw your now awaken figure sitting by the counter where Sylus was just behind of.

“Here you go, sweetie” Sylus mentioned, placing down a plate of steak with the mushroom soup he made in front of your sleeping figure

“Thank you, Sy. Am sorry I interrupted your meeting” you yawned, drinking some of the soup that he made while Sylus decided to eat across from you

“It was nothing, sweetie. I’ve mentioned it before. If you ever need me, just come to me. No matter where I am, who am I with, or what time of the day it is. I’ll always be here for you” Sylus mentioned, caressing your cheek whilst wiping the excess soup at the corner of your lips

“But what would those men do now they’ve seen your soft side?” you asked, holding his hand that was on your cheek

“They’re none of your concern. Besides, they won’t be able to spread anymore information anymore” Sylus smirked, making you roll your eyes. “You and your evol”

Chuckling at your behaviour, Sylus decided to feed you the dinner he made. “Are you still in pain?” he asked

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to tease him. “A bit. Mainly because you only kissed my head when the pain I’m feeling is at my stomach”

Shaking his head, Sylus went around the counter and cupped your jaw, making you look at his tall figure. “Is that so? Then let me kiss it better”

#love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus fanfic #lads sylus #lads x reader #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic

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dyingswanpavlova · 5 months ago

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"Your girl" - Part 3 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: He tries to be nice for once to win you over, but is he being genuine? Or will it backfire? All the while your mind is playing confusing tricks on you.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of rape, violence, mentions of murder, body issues, trauma talk, hinting at stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mentions of erection/arousal/masturbation, mentions of abuse earlier in life, not beta read, 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

"I do not intend to rape you, if that is what you think."

It was weird. The words were supposed to comfort you, right? Make you breathe easier. Instead you felt your chest tighten. Again.

Because he brought it up out of nowhere? Who could tell?

You sat on the couch, your arms wrapped around your legs like they usually were ever since you started participating in his mind games. It wasn't really like you had any other choice.

Your body, once young and healthy, albeit loaded with trauma to the brim, felt bruised and battered. It was a fight you were forced to fight every day and it felt like war. War against him, against yourself and life itself. Your face hurt horribly and it was all his fault. Or was it your own? God, you were confused.

"Don't get me wrong. I do intend to fuck you." His eyes crinkled in a smile. "Oh, I intend to fuck you again and again and again, until you feel like you're being ripped apart and you'll be begging me to stop."

There was it again, the cold sweat. Almost like an old friend you could count on.

Why didn't you have any real friends? You suddenly asked yourself. If only you had invested one of your Sundays into getting to meet at least one person. Maybe then someone would miss you now.

There was still your work. But you couldn't really tell if they'd get suspicious after you stopped coming or if maybe they simply accepted it. Your boss knew you had some issues. How you hated confrontration. He probably assumed you simply were gone for good.

Poor girl. Well, whatever, time is money. At least I get to keep her last paycheck.

But somehow you were sure that no one really missed you. No one waited for you at home. And no one cared that you still spent your days in the captivity of a psychopath. Or was it a sociopath? What was the damn difference again?

"Why don't you do it then?" You heard yourself ask.

One might think you would have learned your lesson not to talk back the day when he threw everything edible away and turned off the water supply. Or after he just beat the crap out of you.

But no, here you were, being smart with him. At least right now he didn't seem to mind. His fucked up smile was still in place.

"Because, my sweet, darling girl", he said slowly and crouched down before you, "because I want to fuck you when you're mine. I don't want scraps and pitiful silence. I'm not like the filth I threw on the train lines."

A violent shiver ran down your spine. It was the first time he mentioned the incident. For a few days you had almost asked yourself if that had really happened. And you had also asked yourself if your life so far had been a hallucination. Maybe you had always been his prisoner and maybe you had made up the role of your mother to keep yourself entertained and somehow deal with everything. They did have a lot in common.

"I want it willingly."

Odd. He didn't seem like the gentle type. Or the type who cared about consent.

"Don't mistake my words. I'm going to fuck you, no matter how you feel."

Ah.

"I don't give a shit if you feel sore, you have a headache, you've been crying or you're bleeding. I don't care if it is me who made you bleed." He leaned in so close that his warm, minty breath tickled your ear. "All the better."

For a moment, you were sure he was gonna bite your earlobe. A sound rumbled in his throat, almost like a groan and his lips were so close to your skin, you felt the wet warmth of that groan. But eventually, he pulled his head back and instead stared at you intensely.

"God, I want you."

The last two days had been weirder than usual. Instead of playing tricks on your mind and hitting you till blood trickled down your lip, he had been...considerate? It was hard to tell if that was the right word for it.

Many things were hard to tell nowadays.

It started with the dresses. He once came home - home, God help you - carrying countless bags which contained pretty and expensive dresses. All in your size and all to your liking.

Your style so far had been modest and humble, convenient mostly.

You knew that you could be pretty when you tried and wanted. Yet on most days you simply didn't care enough.

But when he came back with the dresses and left them in your room - and after you had spent enough hours sulking in the corner and being devastated about your loss of dignity when he forced you to drink water from a fucking bowl on the ground - Be a good girl and drink. I'd be really annoyed if you died of thirst. Yes, just like that. My good girl. - your curiosity finally got the better of you and you glanced into one of the bags.

Everything from silk to cashmere, with no ridiculous colors in sight. Everything was black, white, beige, cream, light rose or babyblue.

Then the lotus silk one in dark green.

It made you feel like a princess.

It felt like tiny kisses on your skin.

You couldn't help but try each and every one of them on.

And God, they felt good on you.

And eventually, you were forced to wear them. All you had was that one night dress. You had tried washing it in the sink and drying it on the radiator. But additionally to all the other bullshit he put you through, it was just too much. And so you put it on. The green one first.

The look on his face when you timidly left your room and tiptoed over to the living room had made you feel...

It made you feel...

You wanted to slap yourself until you came back to your senses, but no. It was enough when he did.

Desired. It made you feel desired.

It made you feel beautiful in a way you hadn't ever experienced before.

Sure, despite your questionable upbringing and your mother who constantly made sure you felt just below miserable, there had been men ogling you. Like the one who attacked you.

They'd stop what they were doing and glance you up and down, making sure you felt like a well-seasoned piece of meat.

Edible.

Fuckable.

But none of it was any comparison to him. The look in his eyes had been nothing short or fascination. The way his eyes gleamed and his lips parted in that soft exhale. His eyes didn't just linger on your breasts or ass. His sized you up entirely, like you were a porcelain doll to be cherished.

Of course you expected to hate the feeling.

But to your undying horror, you didn't.

You tried to think back to the many hits you'd taken from him, the humiliation and the countless tears.

And still, when he looked at you like that, you felt your cheeks grow warm and your insides tingle.

"Try them on for me." He had breathed.

You opened your mouth to protest, because that was what you usually did by now, you protested, but one look at him and it shut you up. Not because he was angry or because he had threatened you.

Because of that damn look.

You found yourself walking back to your room, your hands shaking and your heart racing. What were you doing here? Was this your life? Was this your punishment? Was he someone your mother had hired to punish you for escaping her?

You pushed all those thoughts aside and changed into the next dress. It was almost regal looking, a long white dress that hugged your body like a gentle embrace.

None of the dresses were cheap looking. They weren't even all too revealing. A little more than what you usually wore, yes, but all in all they were still kind of modest. But they highlighted your beauty in a way that made you feel exactly that.

Beautiful.

You took a shaky breath and made your way back to the living room. He had settled down on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand which he swirled around, lost in thought. The moment he heard you, he looked up from his glass and his eyes lit up in the same delight they had before, even more so.

He did something more now. He bit his lip.

He twirled his finger around, silently beckoning you to turn around, which you did. You turned around, almost timidly, feeling somewhat small under his assessing gaze. You still felt beautiful, but a part of you expected...

What?

That he laughed?

That he scoffed and recoiled in disgust?

Yes. Yes, that was exactly what a part of you felt he might do. Instead, he set his glass down and stood up, approaching you slowly and carefully, as though not to startle you.

You held your breath. He would hit you. You had done something wrong. You were wrong. You looked wrong. You didn't look the way he wanted you to.

He'd get rid of you.

By the time he reached you, you nearly suffocated. Your chest heaved rapidly under his scrutinizing gaze. When he lifted his hand and moved to touch your cheek, your eyes fluttered shut and you gasped.

But instead of hitting you, he...caressed you.

His touch was so gentle, more gentle than ever before. Like he was holding a delicate bird.

"Stand up straight." He breathed in your ear.

You swallowed thickly. And slowly obeyed. You fixed your posture slowly, pulling your shoulders back.

"Like that?" You whispered.

He nodded.

"Now your chin." He whispered back and gently placed a finger under your chin to lift it.

You let him guide you, feeling like his fingers left a trail of fire on their wake when he carefully ran them down the side of your neck.

"God, you're exquisite."

When you finally looked up at him, your eyes were wide and your breathing still far too quick. But his expression was calm. So calm. Almost gentle.

If he wasn't such a psychopath, he'd be really handsome, you realized. His eyes shone in a warm brown and his smile, albeit twisted, was beautiful. He was beautiful. Like a man made of marble who didn't mind getting messy.

When you realized what the hell you were thinking, you recoiled as if you’d been burned. His expression didn't waver, but he slowly pulled his hand back.

"Show me the next one." He murmured and sat back down.

You quickly made your way back and slumped down, your back pressed against the door.

What on earth was that? Were you now entirely out of your mind?

You didn't have many rules, but one of them went above all others.

Avoid him. Avoid him at all costs.

No unnecessary contact, because then you'd have less opportunities to make him angry. And maybe, just maybe, then you'd get out of the alive. You still had hope.

After a long moment of gathering your thoughts, you changed into the next dress. A soft beige cashmere dress, which hugged your curves sinfully.

You took a deep breath and made your way back. His gaze was fixed on the door and he looked at you with a subtle smirk.

"Look at that." He murmured.

You didn't know what he was referring to while you walked in there, a slight frown on your face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Turn around."

You turned around. It was easier this time. And it got easier with every dress. You changed, came in an twirled around. Changed, came in and twirled around. And at some point, his eyes started feeling almost natural on you. Like you were meant to wear those dresses for him on that particular day. It wasn't until the last dress, a beautiful, yet simple black dress, that you realized. Your stance had somewhat changed.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a deep frown.

Was that you?

Who were you?

And how did you pull it off to show off these dresses looking almost...confident?

You made your way back, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

His face lit up at the sight and he took a sip of his drink.

"My favorite by far. That and the green one."

You stared at him speechlessly. What on earth were you supposed to do with that information?

He approached you slowly, with that predatory air on him as he slowly circled you, looking you up and down.

"Do you like the dresses?" He asked slowly.

"Yes." You whispered.

"Good." He smirked. "Then thank me."

You slowly, almost carefully, looked up at him. Did he expect...you to...

"Thank me." He whispered.

"Thank you for the dresses." You whispered back.

And just like that, he smiled in satisfaction.

"You're very welcome. They all look wonderful on you."

He sat back down and beckoned you to sit beside him, which you reluctantly did. You tried to keep your knees from bouncing up and down nervously and folded your hands in your lap.

"Who are you?"

You simply stared at him. Because you knew, every time you answered the question, even if you said the right words...Something bad happened. So, this time you stayed silent.

He took a slow breath and leaned closer.

"Who are you?"

"Please." You whispered. "Please, don't."

His expression immediately darkened and he took a tight hold of your chin.

"Answer the goddamn question."

"Your girl." You said quietly, but you were unable to meet his eyes as you did. "I'm your girl."

He hummed softly.

"Why?"

You blinked. "Why?"

He nodded. "Yes. Why?"

Suddenly your throat felt dry. You liked to think that you were actually pretty clever. But whenever you spoke to him, you felt like a complete idiot.

"Because I...I just am."

He raised a brow. "You just are?"

"I don't know what you want to hear."

His grip on your face loosened slightly and he shook his head.

"Do you despise me?" He suddenly asked. There was no emotion in his tone, just pure calculation.

You blinked again. You were almost sure you were going to die tonight. Too bad. The pretty dress would end up soaked in blood.

"I..."

"Because just a few minutes ago, you looked at me like you want me."

Suddenly you felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Actually, you had hoped he hadn't caught on that moment of weakness.

"That's not true." Somehow you managed to force a certain firmness in your voice.

He just smiled. "It's alright, sweet girl. You can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth. I know you’re ashamed. That’s fine. But a part of you likes me."

"But it isn't true!"

He tsked. "Listen, why don't you calm down and then we'll-"

"I could never like you!" You called out before you could think about. "I could never want a twisted person like you. You know what? There's a reason why no one ever loved you and why no one ever will. You're simply evil and there's nothing good or loveable about you. Nothing at all."

It felt like one of those horrible moment in apocalypse movies, just a moment before a protagonist is going to die. You knew you had fucked up. You just couldn't tell how bad yet.

By the time you managed to carefully lift your gaze to meet his, you got struck by unease. You could practically follow the shift in his eyes. From teasing and playful to something darker, something dead. He didn't even need to drop the smile. His eyes spoke loud enough.

"I'm sorry." You whispered breathlessly.

You couldn't even tell why you had said that, why the statement that you found something likeable about him had triggered you so badly. You weren't normally this reckless. This suicidal.

"I'm sorry." You whispered again, when he didn't move. "I don't know what came over me. Please. Forgive me. Please, I..."

The coldness in his eyes made you shut up. The man who called you exquisite and asked you to twirl around like a ballerina was gone. And you immediately knew he wasn't going to forgive you.

But what was even worse was that for some reason you felt so terrible for what you had said. Usually, you were pretty kind to everyone and didn't just go around saying hurtful things. If your words reached and hurt him didn't matter. What mattered was that you said them.

Immediately tears stung your eyes and you forced your gaze away from his. God, he would kill you.

And this time you were certain.

So, you weren't truly surprised when he roughly forced your back onto the sofa and straddled you. But you were still scared shitless. Your breath hitched and suddenly, just like that, you couldn't breathe again and you were mute. Betrayed again.

He pinned your wrists above your head and pushed you down with a rough movement, grinding down his hips against yours and forcing your legs apart.

First he would take what he wanted and then he would kill you.

Despite you being mute and frozen, you were still crying. Your body was being shaken by sobs and it only ever seemed to make him angrier.

"It appears to me", he growled furiously, "that you forgot your place."

You quickly shook your head, desperate to make him understand just how much you regretted what you had said, but before you could even try to open your mouth, a firm slap made you cry out in pain.

"No, please-"

There was your voice. And there went another slap. The intensity of it made you cry out as your head lolled to the side.

"Where is your place?" He growled. But before you could respond, he hit you again, all the while you felt his hardness pressed against you, ready to ruin you.

He had never done that before.

Sure, he had hit you when you got something wrong in a game, but he had never straight up beaten you for speaking.

Or what was even worse, he hadn't forced himself on you.

You had sensed the hardness between his legs once before, after he had made you drink the water from a bowl on the floor. But he hadn't mentioned it, hadn't made you look there, let alone touch it. He had skillfully ignored it and probably taken care of it himself afterwards.

He hadn't tried to kiss you.

Hadn't tried to reach between your legs.

Hadn't let you feel him.

But now you felt it, hard and urgent, straining against his pants and then your dress.

You had never felt a man like this before.

What a weird thought to have in this kind of situation.

"Please." You finally managed to sob out. "Please, I swear to you, I'll never do it again. I'll make up for it, please let me make up for it."

By the time his hand shot out for the sixth slap, you felt yourself go dizzy. Your face burned like fire under his palm and everything around you slowly went blurry. Your sight as well as the way you tried to hold your eyes open. They slowly blinked shut.

"I'm sorry." You whispered exhaustedly.

"Don't you dare pass out on me right now." He hissed and tightly grasped your chin.

When, instead of answering, you murmured something inaudible, he sighed deeply.

"Fuck." He murmured. His touch on your face grew softer. Then he slowly tilted your chin up, examining your face.

"I marked your pretty face." He said in a bland tone. You didn't say anything back.

"But I had to remind you that you don't just get to say and do anything you want." He gritted out. He was obviously still furious.

You didn't understand why he sounded like he was trying to justify his actions or why he even cared if you passed out. You had actually expected him to go off on that.

As if on cue, he reached down and carefully adjusted his pants, letting out a soft sigh at the touch.

You felt him press against you for a moment longer. He was obviously fighting with himself. Despite everything, the friction caused a nervous twitch in your lower body. He seemed to notice it and checked your expression. Eventually he forced himself away from you. He got up and ran his hands through his hair.

"Take a nap and calm down. I'll be back in a while."

With quick steps he disappeared to his bedroom. For a short, reckless moment you caught yourself thinking; he'll be occupied fucking his hand for at least five minutes. If you go and find the keys he always carries around when he leaves...

But your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of him. It was barely audible. You were sure you weren't even supposed to hear it. But you did. A moan. He moaned.

You closed your eyes. Oh God.

He had managed it. He had messed up your brain even more than it already was. Instead of crying, because your face hurt like hell, you felt a certain warmth spread through you.

Honey, you cannot seriously-

Shut up, mother.

You heard him again and now you were sure. You felt yourself grow wet. Immediately, your face flared up in even more heat and your breath caught in your throat.

What on earth was wrong with you?

He had nearly killed you, nearly taken you, nearly-

"Ah, oh, fuck." He groaned.

Your brows furrowed and you took a shaky breath. You could almost see it in your mind. The way his hand slowly slid down his chest. It made your heart skip a beat.

Enough!

You jumped up and scurried back to the bathroom. You locked the door and paused before the mirror. The sight made you wince. He had indeed marked you up. His hand, angrily imprinted into your cheek. You gingerly reached out to touch it, but stopped short of your skin.

He had done this to you. Just as he had done so many other things to you.

You were trapped in these godforsaken halls.

All you had wanted to do was go home after a long day of work, read a book in silence and eat a warm meal. Instead you got trapped into this hell, where he slowly manipulated his way under the trauma that had been cursing through your body and mind for years.

He destroyed all the walls you had built up, all the aid you had taken to repair the little sanity that was left in you.

The little confidence. The little love. The little you.

Now it was all gone.

You felt a tear run down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away. The touch made you wince in pain, it was rather harsh. You couldn't help it. You were angry.

You were so, so angry.

Why was it that no one could ever be good to you?

Why did you always attract the attention of twisted people?

You didn't deserve that. You didn't want it. And God, you didn't ask for it.

You had been a sweet child. Innocent and curious as every child is. Until your mother, who knew nothing but hate by day and pain at night, turned you into a shell of a person. And when you finally, finally made it out of her chokehold and you thought you could now live your life in peace, happily ignoring everything wrong in your life, he came.

He came and destroyed your fragile peace.

With shaky hands you leaned down and splashed your face with cold water. You carefully dried it up and stood like that for a while, holding onto the sink tightly.

And you made a silent promise to yourself.

You would get out of here and get your peace back.

The night was quiet. He didn't try to approach you, punish you, torture you in any way. He simply let you sleep.

The second your face touched the pillow, you passed out.

The morning went on just as quiet. You took a quick bath, before you put on one of the horrible dresses. You didn't care which one, you just wanted this to get over with.

The rest of your life.

After you spent two hours pacing the room, you decided you needed to speak to him. Ask him nicely maybe. Or steal his gun and murder him. You didn't care anymore. You needed to get out.

With quick, determined steps you stormed out to the kitchen and were surprised to find it empty. The other rooms were empty as well. You even gathered all your courage and knocked on his bedroom door. When no answer came, you sighed and went back to the kitchen.

Maybe he had abandoned you. He had thrown away all the food and he would come back in a few days after you died of starvation. Yes, that sounded reasonable.

But to your great surprise, that wasn't the case. Instead, on the kitchen table stood a gracious amount of food. Everything from rice and beans, to spinach and even…lemon cake.

You frowned as you thought back to the second day with him.

"What does always manage to cheer you up?"

"Mostly books." You had whispered, after he had just finished nearly choking you to oblivion, because you had answered another question to his displeasure. "But when things are remarkably bad, then lemon cake."

You stared at the cake as if it was poisonous. Which it probably was. You took a step closer and then you saw the note.

Sorry.

That was it. Just sorry. Sorry?

Your eyes widened as you stared down at it.

What was this?

Did he actually apologize?

You didn't care that it was written on a post-it. The word on the post-it was Sorry.

You had to sit down, because you felt like your knees were about to give in.

After a long moment of simply staring down at it, you reached out and took a bite of the lemon cake.

It was fruity and sweet and everything good in the world.

You took another bite and choked back your sobs.

After he came home, he didn't say anything for a long while and so didn't you. Just a quick glance of acknowledgement.

He didn't comment on how you sat there, reading. Of course you expected him to beat you down with the book. But he didn't. Instead he averted his gaze and disappeared into his room.

And he didn't say anything for the rest of the day either, until suddenly he declared that he didn't intend to rape you and so the conversation dragged on.

You felt especially snarky today, after yesterday he got so angry and took it out on you. After he awkwardly vanished and you heard him. After you remembered that you didn't deserve to be treated like shit, right after you had felt incredibly aroused, because you heard him touch himself.

"God, I want you." He breathed in your ear. And then you did the unthinkable. You pushed him back. The movement was gentle. But you pushed him back.

He growled deep in his throat and seconds later the vase from the coffee table crushed against the wall in a loud scatter. At least it wasn’t you who flew into the wall.

You would have winced from the sound. But it was so sudden and somehow almost funny. But you knew better than to smirk.

"Who are you?" He hissed.

You stayed silent.

He took a long, slow breath. Then he reached out and touched your cheek, his fingers digging into your bruised skin, making you flinch. He raised his hand like he was going to slap you again. You wanted to cower in fear, but you forced yourself to keep looking at him, your eyes wide.

He kept staring down at you and slowly lowered his hand back down.

"You're still beautiful." He said quietly.

You didn't expect him to say that or the way his fingers gently trailed down your cheek. You inhaled sharply and slowly closed your eyes. It was like trusting a bear to guard your life, when it was covered in honey.

"Are you going to hit me again?" You whispered.

After a beat, he quietly said: "No."

His mood swings were terrifying, but you knew there were far scarier things about him.

Like the way his eyes darkened whenever he got really angry. Which was often the case.

Or the way he hummed whenever you did something wrong.

Or the way he made you weak and scary enough, not entirely in a bad way. You were certain he had manipulated you into thinking this. Into, somehow, caring. This was the worst that could happen to you. The absolute worst.

He sighed. "Sweet girl, are you..."

You needed to get the hell out of here. And quickly. So, maybe, maybe, if you just played along…

Maybe then you would get out alive. All you had to do was play along. All you had to be was…

“I’m your girl.”

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orimuraa · 2 months ago

Text

• I'm burning hot - LHS ↳ ┊: hot - le sserafim

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆being under the same company as your idol crush has it’s perks, especially when it comes to variety shows ⨾

۶ৎ idol!heeseung x fem idol!reader┆fluff, crack┆slight age gap? (3 years), co-workers to ???┆reader is in le sserafim┆wc 1.1k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to my sweet 🫧 anon who requested this! i think it’s such a cute prompt and i hope i did okay ㅠㅠ feedback and reblogs are always appreciated >0<

part 2

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

rule number 1 of being an idol: don’t fall in love.

rule number 2 of being an idol: if you make eye contact with a male idol, you’re dating.

rule number 3 of being an idol: don’t even interact with a male idol or else you’re dating.

so when you were told by your manager that you were going to be going on a variety show with lee heeseung of enhypen, you knew you were absolutely done for.

heeseung was the one idols you would break all those rules for. he was the one that could single handily break your career with a single second of eye contact.

you weren't sure if it was immense luck or immense doom that you were paired with your idol crush of many years, but whatever it was, it made your stomach turn with different emotions.

“chaewon eonnieeee,” you whined. “i’m so dead…the netizens are gonna rip me apart if i even breathe too close to him.” you sulked, dramatically flopping onto the practice room floors.

“ynnie, just be yourself, okay? it'll go smoothly if you don't fumble! just…try to avoid any scandals…” chaewon mumbles the last part, resulting in a playful smack on her shoulder.

“hey! don’t scare her like that!” yunjin scolds, walking over to where you two were sitting.

“she’s gonna be fine. just keep the eye contact to a minimum and don’t go too close to him, got it?” yunjin says, listing the things on her fingers.

got it. so basically don’t even breathe around lee heeseung. that’ll go wonderfully.

you weren’t even sure what the variety show was and what was even going to happen on it. you’re pretty sure your manager was telling you about it but you probably weren’t listening.

all you knew was that you were insanely nervous and very unprepared. oh! and that it was school themed.

when you first walked into the classroom that was rented out, you were greeted very politely by the staff and the show hosts. the show hosts were very famous comedians that were also dressed in high-school uniforms, despite being in their 40's.

then, your eyes locked with the prettiest bambi eyes ever. well- there goes rule number 2.

there stood lee heeseung who was practically glowing with his fake glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. god, did he look so good.

“hello! i’m y/n of le sserafim. it’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted, hoping your voice wasn't too shaky.

you shook hands with heeseung and for a second, you felt your career flash before you eyes.

“hi! i’m heeseung of enhypen! no need to be so formal! i heard we’re gonna be partners for the show!” he smiled sweetly, chuckling at how formal you were being.

“ah ok! i’m actually not quite sure what this show is about…” you replied sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks.

“oh no worries! i’m sure they’re gonna explain everything before we start shooting,” he laughs lightly.

by the time you actually start filming, you’re already exhausted. you have to admit that you were having a ton of fun with the games and you have to say, you and heeseung make an amazing duo.

however, there was definitely a part of you that was holding back as you didn't want to make heeseung uncomfortable in any way. so far, you two had won the random dance challenge, shouting in silence, and limbo.

seeing heeseung laugh whole-heatedly made you smile, noticing the way he seemed less uptight like in the beginning.

you two were able to earn many coins so you could afford the more luxurious lunch options.

"hmm i say we get a tteokbokki, a ramyeon, and some galbi!" heeseung says, scrunching his eyebrows as he looks at the menu.

"i trust you and you're decisions," you nod, trying to hide you blushing cheeks. why did lee heeseung have to be so charming?!

you two sat next to each other for lunch as you were sharing the dishes you ordered, while the show still went on. the hosts were cracking jokes and also asking questions about your guys' idol lives.

at one point, one of the hosts pointed out how you and heeseung made a great pair in all of the games. the only games you two lost were pictionary (due to heeseung's horrendous artistic skills) and red light green light (due to your inability to stay still).

the comment made you blush for the 1015th time today and out of the corner of your eye, you saw heeseung's ears turn red as well. you prayed they would edit that out.

when filming came to an end, you stuck around just for a bit of behind-the-scenes filming, group photos, and a bit of filming for your vlog.

"heeseung! come here!" you called out to the taller man. "come say hi to the fearnots!"

"hello fearnots! don't worry, i have taken care of y/n just fine and we actually make a great time!" he says to the camera, leaning in to your side a bit.

but while he talks some more to the camera, all you can focus on is him. how close he is, how good his perfume smells, and how much more beautiful he is up close.

"right y/n?" heeseung's voice knocks you out of your daze and you quickly recover.

"yep!" you squeak, hoping it didn't seem too awkward.

you also managed to squeeze in a bit of challenge filming. your group recently made a comeback and enhypen was releasing a digital single very soon so it was perfect. you let heeseung decide if he wanted to do the 'come over' challenge, or the 'hot' challenge and clearly, he had an opinion.

"if we do the hot challenge, with you caption it 'heeseung's burning hot'?" he playfully smirks. you shove his shoulder lightly, laughing off your flustered-ness.

"fine," you huff, rolling your eyes at him.

you two quickly learned each other's choreo and were able to film the challenges very successfully (with minor casualties). the loose choreo was very enticing and it definitely did not help with your flustered state.

"so, am i burning hot?" he smirks again, taking a sip of water after finished the challenges. you feel the air get caught in your throat.

"no," you lie, holding back an equally annoying smirk. but before you can think anymore, heeseung leans in to whisper something into your ear:

"darling, we both know that's a lie."

his expression is unreadable but there's a faint glint of interest in his eyes. and before you know it, he's walking out the door with his manager, mouthing the words "call me" as you discover the piece of paper in your pocket.

oh, chaewon was so gonna kill you.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh

#₊˚⊹♡𝖄ᥱȷі's 𝖂᥆rks #enhypen #engene #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heesung enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung soft hours #lee heeseung soft hours #enhypen heeseung #kpop x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 11 months ago

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To The One I Love - 1

Series Masterlist

➪in which a surprise tornado hits and you’re left wounded and unresponsive when tyler finally finds you.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 2.4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

There were no warnings sent out. No telltale signs. No time to prepare.

A massive tornado had ripped through town just as you, Tyler and Lilly had come out of the movie theater. Lilly announced she would be heading home since it was nearing nine at night, and she wanted to be well rested for the big storm chase that was supposed to be happening tomorrow.

Who knew it was a day early?

It was raining lightly when you parted ways with her, and Tyler said he’d bring the truck around to the front of the building so you didn’t get soaked, but as soon as he turned the corner, that’s when it hit.

He caught sight of his truck just as his phone blared an alert, and he didn’t have to look at it to know what it was for.

Debris, glass, dirt and dust flew around him, and the sound of walls being blown apart was barely heard over all the sudden screaming. Tyler instantly forgot about his plan on getting to his truck as he bolted back around the corner, his eyes widening when he saw that you were no longer where he left you, and it sent his heart into his stomach.

He barely made it two steps towards the spot you just were before he felt a hand grab his arm, and he spun to face Lilly. A small wave of relief washed over him at the sight of his friend, but now he was panicking more, because he still couldn’t find you. “Are you okay?” She asked over the sound of the rain and wind whipping past them.

“Yeah, are you?” he said back and grabbed her wrist when she nodded quickly. “Where is Y/n?”

Lilly’s brows furrowed as she squinted up at him, the sand and dirt most likely getting in her eyes. “I thought she was with you,” came her worried reply, and Tyler’s heart dropped. “She isn’t with you?”

“No, I told her to stay here,” he gestured to the place you and Lilly parted ways less than two minutes ago. He glanced around the surrounding area, but you were nowhere in sight. Tyler turned back to his friend, his eyes wide and his grip tight. “Lilly.”

She must’ve seen the panic on his face as she quickly reached up and grabbed his shoulders. “Okay, it’s okay,” she said, having to raise her voice over the sound of the chaos happening around them. “She’s probably around here helping someone. You know she has a heart the size of this whole state, right? She’s around here somewhere, we just need to find her.”

Tyler nodded, but he felt like he was in a haze. His clothes were stuck to his body, his hair soaked and littered with dirt and small bits of debris. He couldn’t fully focus on one thing as he turned around and scanned the near-destroyed town, his eyes flickering all over the place without really taking anything in.

Lilly saw this, and she knew he was still panicking, so she turned him to face her again. “Hey,” she said firmly, lightly slapping his face. “She’s fine. We just need to find her.”

Tyler tried to relax his shoulders as he nodded, and his hand brushed against her arm as he stepped away from her and started heading in a random direction. He helped those who needed it along the way, moving pieces of debris and guiding people in the direction of proper help, but that was when he saw you.

And you were not fine.

You were lying on the sidewalk, a small pool of blood around your head and your hand locked with a little girls. Your eyes were closed, and from where he was Tyler could see a gash on the side of your forehead that was bleeding a scary amount, and he took off towards you, a broken yell of Lilly’s name leaving his lips as he fell to his knees next to you. “Baby,” he choked out, his hand hovering over your face as he stared down at you. “Babe…Y/n.”

Lilly made it over to him quickly, her eyes wide and her mouth parted as he knelt down on the other side of you, next to the little girl. “What happened?” She gasped, looking between you and the girl.

She looked terrified, her lip wobbling as she held tightly onto your hand. “I couldn’t find my mom,” she cried, and Tyler guessed she was about five or six. “I was crying, and she tried to help me, but it hit her.”

Tyler was barely listening as he brushed your hair out of your face with shaky fingers, his whole body trembling as he quietly called out to you again. Lilly furrowed her brows, shaking her head. “What hit her?”

The girl’s small finger points towards a broken piece of wall, the bricks scattered around and some bits of it in your hair. Lilly swallows harshly as she and Tyler both look over at it, and his heart sinks. “Fuck,” he nearly sobbed, knowing he probably shouldn’t be swearing in front of this kid, but to be fair, he could hardly hear anything over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Lilly knew she was the only one with a somewhat clear head right now, so she gently pulled the girl away from you while Tyler watched the rain mix with your blood as it dripped down your face. “I’m going to take you to my friend, okay? He’s really nice, and he’ll help you find your mom,” she promised, quickly leading her over to Boone, who had just arrived with a few others. Once the girl was safely with him, Lilly ran back over to Tyler, who was now pressing his fingers against the side of your neck. “Is she alive?”

Tyler froze a bit as he tried to find your pulse, then he felt the faint bump of your heart. “She’s alive,” he managed to say through his tears. “But-but barely. Lilly.”

She could hear the fear and desperation in his voice, and she reached over to grab his shoulder. “We need to get her out of here,” she stated, knowing that the paramedics would have a hard time getting to you through all the debris. Tyler was caressing your face, barely listening, so she snapped at him again. “Hey. Get it together, Tyler. Get her to the truck. Now.”

He nodded, knowing she was right and that they needed to move quickly. He gently lifted you up, and the way your blood immediately made his white shirt red had his heart dropping. “Okay,” he nodded again, taking off towards the parking lot where he left the truck. He was hoping to anyone listening that it hadn’t been damaged by the tornado, and he didn’t want to think about what he would do if it was. “I got you, babe. I’m gonna get you help, okay? Just stay with me.” He begged, then let out a sigh of relief when he turned the corner and saw that his truck was just fine.

“Give me your keys, I’ll drive,” she offered, holding her hand out to him. Tyler kept you pressed tightly against his chest as he used one hand to fumble around in his pocket for his keys, then he opened the back door and carefully set you down on the backseat.

He got in next to you as Lilly reversed out of the parking space and floored the truck down the road. The red beauty was used to worse than this, so he wasn’t worried about the state of his truck as he pulled you against his side, his hand running through your soaked hair. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Lilly, hurry. Please.”

You were never this unresponsive, had never been this limp in his arms in the eleven years you’ve been together. Your lack of movement and talking was making him feel like he was about to lose his mind.

After what felt like hours, Lilly pulled up in front of the hospital and he was out of the truck in half a second, holding you in his arms as he ran through the doors. A swarm of nurses and doctors formed around him, and they took you from him to get you into an exam room.

“Sir, you need to wait out here,” one of them told him when he tried to follow after you.

“But-”

“We need to examine her,” she cut him off just as Lilly came running through the doors. “Please, just sit in the waiting room. We’ll update you as soon as we can.”

Then she was gone, as were you, and Tyler was left standing in the middle of the hallway. His body felt numb as he stared helplessly at the spot you were just in, his mind a jumbled mess right now. Lilly placed her hand on his shoulder, her voice quiet, “She’s in good hands, Tyler. She’s gonna be okay,”

He kept staring at the double doors of the ER, the image of you looking so lifeless in his arms playing on repeat in his head. Less than half an hour ago, you were in his arms and smiling at him, and his hands curled into fists. “I should’ve never left her,” he muttered, “This is my fault.”

“Tyler, this isn’t your fault,” Lilly whispered, squeezing his shoulder. “There were no signs, no warnings. There was no way to tell. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“But I should’ve been able to tell. I’ve been doin’ this for years, I-” he cut himself off when he felt his throat begin to close up, and that’s when Lilly turned him to face her, and she pulled him into her arms. She was tiny, and he was not, but it wasn’t an awkward hug like expected. She could barely wrap her arms fully around him, but she didn’t need to. Just this was enough for him as he finally let his guard down and buried his head against her shoulder.

After holding him in her arms for a while, Lilly guided Tyler towards the waiting room, where she sat with him for hours. No one had come to update them yet, and Tyler was feeling antsy. He wanted them to hurry up and tell him how serious your injuries were, but all he could do was wait and hope that it wasn’t as severe as he thought it was.

The only wound he saw was the one on your head, but it looked quite bad. He wasn’t a doctor, he didn’t know a thing about serious injuries, but he knew the gash on your head was bad. He didn’t need to be told that.

Lilly was sleeping with her head on his shoulder when a doctor finally entered the waiting room and walked over to them. Before he could say anything, Tyler stood up as questions flew from his mouth, “Is she okay? Is she awake? Can I see her?”

The doctor paused, his fingers holding onto your chart as he made eye contact with Tyler. “Are you her boyfriend?” He asked and Tyler nodded quickly as Lilly slowly stood up next to him. “She’s stable, but her condition is still critical. She suffered severe head trauma, and she also has a few minor cuts and bruises. We’re still running tests to see what internal damage she might have sustained.”

Tyler felt his mouth go dry as the doctor listed off what was wrong with you, and his body ached to run through those doors to see for himself that you were still alive. “Can I see her? I need to see her,”

The doctor, whose coat read ‘DR. James’, closed your chart as he looked between Tyler and Lilly. “Soon. Once we get the results back, I’ll have a nurse take you to her,”

Tyler felt his frustration grow but he nodded nonetheless. Lilly turned his attention to her when Dr. James walked away, and she tried not to look at the large spot of red on his shirt that was almost dry now. “I’m going to go see if I can help Boone and the others. Will you be okay?” She asked quietly and he nodded again before pulling her into a hug. “Update me when you can, please. I’ll swing by later with new clothes for you and anything else you need, alright?”

“Alright,” he said back as she squeezed him before stepping away. “Thanks, Lill.”

She smiled up at him, gripping his biceps. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” she waved him off, “She’s going to be fine, okay? I know it.”

Tyler forced out a smile as he watched her turn around and head towards the exit, and he sat back down with his elbows on his knees.

You were stable. That was good, but you were in pretty bad shape. He felt his anger spike up again at how easily he could’ve prevented this had he stayed with you for a few more seconds. You wouldn’t have been alone, wouldn’t have ran off to go help a kid by yourself, and wouldn’t be in critical condition in the hospital.

Tyler felt his heart clench as the image of your blood soaking his shirt flashes through his mind, the way your hand was limp in that little girls, and the way you didn’t say a single damn thing to him when he found you.

He missed your voice, despite hearing it nearly everyday for the last eleven years. He missed your smile, your laugh, the color of your eyes. He needed you. He couldn’t live without you. He wouldn’t.

Forty more minutes go by before a nurse enters the waiting room and gestures for him to follow her. “I can see her now?” He asked, hope in his voice as she nodded and started to lead him down the hall. “She’s okay?”

The nurse sighed, “She’s very weak right now and sedated. She needs rest, so don’t try to wake her up or anything,” she said as they stopped outside a room labeled ‘113’. “Only one person at a time, okay?”

Tyler nodded, barely registering her words as he turned to open the door, but she called out to him again,

“There’s one more thing,” she stated, her voice quiet but firm. “Your girlfriend has significant head trauma. We’re still waiting for the MRI results to tell us the full extent and damage, but there’s a good chance she may suffer some memory loss.”

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snowball-doie · 4 months ago

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| pairing: Dom!Johnny x Switch!AFAB!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Bondage. Restraining Johnny. Thigh riding. Edging. Mentions of D/s relationship. ...Hands free orgasm ig?

| wc: 3.1k

| aurora's note: in honor of me seeing nct in tx tomorrow, we're gonna be riding a cowboy today-

Johnny wasn’t the type to just lay down and take it. Even with you on top, he needed his hands on your hips, guiding you as you bounced on his cock and he bucked up into you roughly. For the most part, though, he liked to be on top so that he could do as he pleased while listening to you whine about how he was being too rough or he was going too deep. It entertained him to see you squirming and acting like you didn’t like it. He knew you loved it. Having him push you into the mattress, pulling on your hair, burying himself as deep as he possibly could just so he could watch your hole desperately attempt to stretch around his dick.

However, there wasn’t much of a choice left for you upon seeing him come home from his photoshoot with bags full of free clothes and merchandise his partnership gave him as gifts to welcome him to their team. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of the last outfit of the day. In the cold, he waltzed right into your apartment wearing a thin skin-tight black shirt with a zipper running down the middle— the zipper not even close to covering his belly button— and a pair of cute jeans that were decorated with painted-on keychains and buttons in various pastel colors.

“Are you bragging?” you asked, your gaze following him as he set the gift bags down on the dresser next to the bedroom door.

“I’d call it showing off.”

“To whom?”

“You.”

“Why?”

Johnny started crawling onto the bed to settle on top of you, his lips hovering over yours seductively. “In the hopes that you’ll want to rip the clothes right off my body to keep for yourself.”

“You’re funny.” Laughing, you pushed him off of you then sat upright.

Johnny settled on his knees with a pout that told you he was hoping to get his dick wet the second he got home after a long day of photoshoots, yet you weren’t entertaining him nor the erection growing in those tight jeans of his.

You pinched his chin between your fingers and teased, “Cute.”

Kissing him, you were nearly inclined to actually let him climb back on top of you, but Johnny didn’t take any initiative that you wouldn’t approve of, so instead he allowed you to take the lead until he would find the right opportunity to fuck you so hard that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“Did you have fun at least?”

Johnny pouted some more after you slid out of bed to investigate the contents of the bags he brought back with him. There was stuff in there for you. He’d been kind enough to ask the company to give him something you would enjoy, and beyond his expectations, they actually gifted three things for you, which Johnny found humorous because he was planning on spoiling you with all of the things he got for himself anyhow. The pink bandana was cute. The winter scarf to match his was appreciated, too.

Johnny snuck up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist in order to pull you flush against his strong chest. “I had a blast. Went shirtless and everything.”

“I’m sure the girls on set enjoyed that.”

“Why’re you teasing me, baby? Help me out here.”

“It’s fun to see you desperate for me for a change.”

Johnny kissed your neck gently. “You really think I’m not always desperate for you?” He chuckled before leaving a hickey. “I think about you every second of every day.”

After rolling your eyes, you elbowed him back a bit to give you enough space to dig something out of one of the bags. In the meantime, Johnny stumbled back to sit back on the bed again, hoping that if he sat there looking like… that… you would eventually give in. Honestly, he wasn’t wrong. From the second you saw him in the doorway when he first got home, you planned on having fun with him regardless, but it really, really was fun making him drool over you when you pretended to not care. If Johnny were really in a Dom mood, he would’ve grabbed you and thrown you onto the bed then plowed into you from behind to make a point, but he just wanted to fuck you and he hoped that you wanted the same— Which you did! Just on your own terms.

Turning to face him, you hid what you held in your hands behind your back with an innocent grin plastered to your face. “You love me that much?” you asked him.

Johnny looked you up and down. “More than anything in the world.” It was like he was silently thanking you for wearing nothing except underwear and a tank top by biting his lip and rubbing a palm over his crotch slowly. “Let me show you how much I love you, baby. I’ll make it worth your time, I promise.”

“How would you make it worth my time?”

He welcomed you with a smirk as you began pushing him up towards the headboard before you settled on top of him, your thighs bracketing his waist, his erection so close to touching you, however you refused to fully sit down.

“I’ll fuck you ‘til you see stars.”

“You already do that on a semi-regular basis.”

“I’ll let you be on top.”

“I’m already on top.”

Johnny huffed. “Come on, baby, stop teasing me.” As expected of him, his grumpy Dom side snapped so he decided to glue his hands to your hips then force you to sit down entirely. “You want me to cum in you? Fill you to the brim so you’re leaking me out for days?” He rolled his hips and moaned quietly. “You wanna cum ‘til you can’t think straight? I can do that for you— to you.”

“I have something else in mind.”

Confusion slapped him across the face. He wasn’t quite sure what you meant, even as you peeled his hands away from your body before lifting them over his head to the black headboard. He was silent as you revealed that pink bandana he’d worn on his face for the photoshoot. He didn’t protest or question you while you brought it up to his hands which you held steady with one hand, or when you started wrapping it around his wrists and a pole on the headboard.

Johnny chuckled slightly. “Usually this is my job.” He tugged just enough to test the knot but not enough to break the expensive gift or really try to get out of his predicament. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Show up looking like this…”

Both of you went silent as you slowly began drifting your palms down his body, starting at his shoulders, sliding over his pecks— his nipples hardening under the thin shirt and his cock jumping with excitement between your legs— and down to his exposed belly button.

“So… not a punishment…” His eyes were glued to your fingertips that played with the hem of his jeans.

“Why? Scared I’ll get you back for all the times you did it to me?”

“I’d like to see you try.”

But that tinge of confidence and lack of belief was stifled the second you rolled your hips over his, the friction between the two of you creating enough pleasure for him to moan your name. You could try. Hell, you could do more than try, even if it was with Johnny who never, ever gave up control or his dominance. You’d already gotten as far as managing to sit on him and tie his hands up, you could do anything now and either Johnny would let you or he’d ruin that scarf without a second thought just to free himself and take it out on you instead.

To tease him a bit further, you slid off the entirety of his lap to see that pout of his when he thought you were going to leave him high and dry, however you maintained your seat on him, just on his thick, muscular left thigh. Johnny smirked up at you. He enjoyed how pretty you were while hovering above him. It wasn’t just his thigh that was between your legs, he was quick to notice how your knee was pressed up against the underside of his balls, and with just enough pressure on his jeans, he could feel you. He looked so handsome— Decorated in all of those expensive clothes of his, his arms trapped overhead, his eyes dark with lust.

“I can’t wait much longer,” he warned you through a moan.

As a means to entertain yourself and get things going with your plan in mind, you slowly started rolling your hips forward along his thigh. The feeling of his jeans rubbing against your underwear felt good. Friction from the coarseness of his pants mixed with the smoothness of your clothes allowed you to move easily yet still feel the textures pressing to your sensitive clit. Biting your lip, you moaned quietly. Johnny reacted to the noise and the movements by tugging at his restraints again in the hopes that he’d be able to touch you this time, however that endeavor would prove to remain fruitless, so he settled, watching you carefully. Your hips swayed backwards and Johnny got a look at the slight wet spot that you’d left behind.

“You’re gonna ruin my pants at this rate, baby.”

You chuckled. “That’s the plan.”

Continuing your motions of riding his thigh, relief swept over you the faster you went. The more you hit the right spots on his thigh, you were more inclined to moan his name while leaning forward with your hands braced on his bare stomach between his shirt and jeans. Johnny tried to buck up, hoping that your hand would slip down to his erection, however you didn’t waver. All of your focus was on getting yourself off. Selfish, sure. But it felt so fucking good.

“Baby, please, I can’t take it, I’m gonna burst out of these jeans any second—”

A moan got caught in his throat as you shut him up by running one of your hands over his hard-on.

“Just like that, baby.”

You decided to give him just a minute of relief by continuing to palm him at the same pace at which you were riding his thigh, yet when you started to feel your orgasm approaching, you pulled your hand away from him. Johnny protested by desperately pulling on the pink bandana around his wrists. He wasn’t alone, at least. You even slowed yourself down just to really revel in the fact that you’d finally got him as submissive as you could ever make him, which was saying something given his personality. It would’ve been a waste to cum so fast and have it be over before you really got to enjoy it. And you wanted Johnny to remember that night— What it felt like to be at your mercy, begging to be touched, pouting because he didn’t get the orgasm he wanted so badly. It wasn’t a punishment like he assumed it was, but it also… wasn’t not a punishment. It was pure fun, and Johnny understood that as you started up again by riding his thigh at the same fast pace that had gotten you close the first time; This time, though, you didn’t touch him. You just giggled at how he tried swiveling his hips every which way to get you to accidentally touch him just once… You’d done that to him a million times. Whenever he’d tie you up and laugh at the way you cried from being overstimulated by the vibrator taped against your clit, you wiggled your hips like a wild animal in the hopes of escaping it all, but Johnny was tougher than that. He could restrain you every which way, there was no getting out of his cruel and exciting punishments until he was finished with you.

Suddenly you rolled a different direction to give your hips a slight break, only to discover that you hit a new, sensitive spot, causing you to moan. Falling against his chest, Johnny took the opportunity to grind up against your thigh that was over his erection.

“Th-that’s cheat— cheating…” you croaked against him, your head going fuzzy with pleasure.

“Then make me stop,” he challenged you.

He must not have been expecting you to actually take him up on it given your state, however you managed to pick yourself up, taking away the only ounce of pleasure he had before you began fiddling with the button and zipper of his jeans. Johnny’s face lit up. It was obvious that he was anticipating the moment you’d get comfortable on his lap again so that you could slowly sink down onto his cock… That still wasn’t your plan, unfortunately for him. The bit of freedom that came with having his jeans undone was enough to make Johnny moan, and you only contributed to that more by sneaking your hand under his jeans just to see how much he’d leaked. If he wanted to tease you about how wet you were, you could do the same to him. Johnny’s head fell back against the pillows and his eyes squeezed shut. Feeling your fingers press to his tip sent him up to cloud nine. But it didn’t last long.

“You’re going to ruin your pants at this rate, baby,” you teased him with a confident grin, bringing your fingers up to your mouth to lick his pre-cum clean. He glared at you. “What? Not having fun?”

“I’d have more fun if I was in you.”

“Maybe if you earn it.”

He rolled his eyes.

“That won’t get you anything.” You sighed and rolled your head back as you went back to riding his thigh. Thankfully, your drenched panties and his wet jeans made it even easier to glide around, getting you dangerously close to your orgasm once more. “I’m having fun…” You grabbed your tits over your pajama shirt and squeezed. “Doesn’t that matter, too?”

Johnny was silent. He couldn’t take his eyes off your tits that you were massaging. Obviously you were having as much fun as you wanted to rub in his face since you were getting off but he wasn’t. You figured if you stopped for a third or fourth time that Johnny would inevitably get fed up with you and finally flip the two of you, so this was your last chance to really make it worth it and remember the image of having Johnny Suh tied up beneath you with his arms stretched overhead, his cock leaking pre-cum in his jeans after being painfully neglected by you all night. Poor thing. Well, if grinding your leg against him made him feel good the first time, you could enlighten him a second time. So while desperately riding his thick thigh in search of your high, you made sure that your knee brushed his crotch consistently enough to the point that his breathing hitched and his eyes screwed shut.

“You look handsome like this.”

Johnny didn’t acknowledge you fully. He was too locked into the way you were “accidentally” touching him and how he didn’t want you to stop, so he didn’t dare to bring your attention to it.

“Maybe I should tie you up more often.”

“Y-you… wish…” Johnny grabbed the scarf holding him back. “Shit,” he grumbled under his breath.

“I’m close, J.”

He nodded eagerly as if to say, Me too, however the words didn’t leave his mouth. That look of concentration was adorable, and it felt deserved after years of enduring all the things he did to you and he laughed at your pretty faces you made while approaching your orgasm. An extremely cruel part of you had half a mind about pulling away from him entirely at the last second— But you hadn’t meant it! Really, you wanted to keep doing whatever it was that clearly worked to break his brain a little bit, however in the midst of your orgasm sneaking up on you, the focus on what made Johnny feel good slipped to the back of your mind to make room for what made you feel good. You rode his leg faster. Johnny didn’t make any protests— Not a peep. You were so lost in pleasure that your eyes didn’t open and your hands reached to grab the closest thing within reach that would keep you steady. His small waist.

“I’m cumming!”

Usually, if it had been you with your hands tied to the headboard, you would’ve had to ask politely for permission to cum, otherwise Johnny would’ve edged you until you learned proper manners. However, because there was nothing to stop you, you simply told him, and even then you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes or remember to pull his cock out of his pants so that you could jerk him off. He would have to wait his turn, you quickly decided after your peak hit, sending a shiver down your spine and to your core which pulsed around absolutely nothing as your sensitive clit throbbed from the friction provided by Johnny’s jeans. You rode out the last bit of your high before slowly trying to end it.

“Fuck— Fuck— Baby, wait—” Johnny’s panting came to a sudden halt as his body shivered, his biceps bulging as he tugged hard on his restraints. He moaned your name loudly, and as you looked down to inspect him, you found that he was cumming in his jeans. A wet stain covered the crotch area more than what you’d done to his leg. “Oh, shit—” He slumped on top of the bed. “You’re the worst.” While catching his breath, he picked his head up slightly to watch you collect some of his cum from his pubic bone and bring it up to your lips for yet another taste of him. “Really, the worst.” He swallowed a moan while watching you closely.

“But you made it worth my while,” you told him, chuckling, leaning over his body to untie his wrists.

The second he was free, Johnny did just as you expected of him by wrapping his arms around your waist so that he could keep you safe and steady as he suddenly flipped you onto your back, his large stature hovering over you.

“I hope it was worth it,” he replied. You grinned up at him. “‘Cause now it’s my turn to have some fun.” He continued to pin you to the bed expertly with one hand, meanwhile the other traveled down to push his ruined jeans off his hips.

Hitting him back with his own words from earlier, you held your ground by challenging him with, “I’d like to see you try.”

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#op #fanfic #johnny #johnny suh #johnny fanfic #johnny smut #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh smut #nct #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut

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kathryn-maraudersversion · 3 months ago

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Serpents and Stars Pt 6

Summary: It’s been four days since you destroyed them. Four days of silence of pretending you don’t care. And then James Potter storms into your life like a hurricane and demands the truth. And this time, you can’t run from it.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders (James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin) x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Warnings: More hurt so much hurt but I promise there will be comfort in the next part. Please forgive me guys

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt11

You should have known he wouldn’t let it go. You had convinced yourself that it was over. That James, Sirius, and Remus had finally gotten the message. That they had given up on you. You should have known better.

Because James Potter never quits.

So, when he stormed into the empty Transfiguration classroom, slammed the door behind him, and turned to face you with fire in his eyes, you knew you were screwed.

James stood in front of the door, arms crossed, blocking your only exit.

“You’re going to talk to me,” he said, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “Right. Now.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending your heart wasn’t pounding. “Get out of my way, Potter.”

“No.”

Your jaw clenched. “Move.”

He didn’t.

Instead, he stepped closer. Too close.

“Four days,” he said. “Four days, and I let you have your space. I let you pretend like you didn’t just rip us apart. But I’m done waiting, sweetheart.”

You scoffed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

His laugh was humourless. “Bullshit.”

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. “What do you want me to say, James? That I regret it? That I miss you?” You forced a smirk. “Sorry, but I don’t.”

Something flickered in his hazel eyes. He took another step forward, and before you could react, he reached out and grabbed your wrist.

Your breath caught because his touch wasn’t rough or angry. It was gentle. Firm, but careful, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Your stomach dropped and the way he was looking at you, you knew something bad was coming.

James’ voice was quiet now.

“You think you’re the only one who’s ever wanted to ruin something good before it could ruin you, Sirius and his family for example and don't even get me started on things with moony?”

Your throat tightened. “James-”

“No,” he said, his grip on your wrist tightening just slightly. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like you don’t care, like you don’t feel this-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Because I know you do. I know it, and you know it, so stop lying to me.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

“I don’t-”

“Yes, you do,” James cut you off. “Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have tried so damn hard to push us away.”

Your breath was coming too fast now.

He took one more step forward, and suddenly, you were trapped between him and the desk.

And Merlin, he was so close.

Close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

You wanted to lean in. You wanted to give in. But if you did, there would be no turning back.

So, you did the only thing you could.

You shoved him away.

James stumbled back a step, his eyes widening at the force of it.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

He stilled.

“Why?” His voice was quiet. Almost desperate.

You shook your head.

“Because you’ll break me.”

Silence. James exhaled slowly.

And when he spoke, his voice was steady. Sure.

“We won’t sweetheart, I’d rather die.”

Authors Note: Gang this is insane also not me spoiling yall with two updates in one day

Taglist: @amatoanima @flaviaandbooks @nymanas @bridkesby @yvessentials @maraudersgirlsposts @treefairy-28 @navs-bhat @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @zoleea-exultant @hermionelove @starmaniii @kitcat912 @hopperbopper @forgottenandfree

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lixiesbrowniess · 5 months ago

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GLASSES STAY ON

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, smut, sexual content, cussing, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, he just likes your glasses so much :)

| Jensen Masterlist |

"Since when?" Soldier Boy spoke from the dark of your apartment, making you jump all of sudden. He appearing into your home was routine, but you were so focused on the work that you startled. Your eyes set on his figure, thin glasses shimmering blue to the light of your PC.

"What?" You ask, looking up from the screen as he approached his eyes had a new spark in them. "Since fucking when do you wear glasses?" he asks walking towards you, he had his suit painfully tight around his back muscles, all of them twitching as he threw his shield to the side.

"Well, Ben, since the very start, actually." He chuckles, sitting onto your desk and shutting your PC closed. "Well, sweetcheeks, they sure look good on ya pretty face." He lowly chuckles, leaning towards you. His hungry gaze meeting yours, behind the lenses.

"Bet they'd look even prettier while I fuck you raw into the mattress, doll." You feel a shiver down your spine, that sentence had you soaking wet in a heartbeat. His face inches closer to yours, lips grazing yours as he speaks. "Wanna find out?"

And with that, now you find yourself in the most tight missionary position you ever tried. Legs in the air, knees against your chest having you fold in half under his sturdy and muscular body. His hand groping your bouncing breasts, while breathing heavily.

His hips slamming against you with lewd slapping sounds, every thrust he gives, makes you sink between the pillows of your queen sized bed. "Fuck, yes" his husky voice vibrates directly in your ear. "You fucking slutty pillow princess" he grunts his hips going down on you harshly and deeply.

"Now would you look at that." He murmurs to himself getting a hold of your thighs spreading them but still holding them folded against your chest. You were completely naked with just the glasses on, to adorn your face lost in pleasure. Mouth wide open, eyes rolling in the back of your head and brows knotting in a pleased frown.

Hair all messy and some of them stick to your forehead. You lost count of how many orgasms you had as he kept relentlessly pounding you into the mattress. "Ben... that's perfect－" another helpless moan rips from your throat

He admires your expression, the glasses just making the whole situation hotter, he watches every little twitch in your body as another orgasm washes over you. "Yeah baby, you like being manhandled, huh?" He growls into your ear as his hips keep slamming into you, making your body jolt at each thrust.

You nod desperately as you feel yet another orgasm approaching, your legs trembling into his grip. Filthy moans leaving your mouth "fuck－ damn slut, they look so good on you" his hips suddenly slow down snapping into yours, his fingers trace the cold metal of your glasses, his rock hard cock sliding in and out of you deeply.

You gently pull him down in a heated kiss, your fingers through his locks, you take his lower lip between your teeth lightly tugging at it. His massive cock rubbing against your walls deliciously slow, his angry tip bruising your cervix. The loud skin slapping sounds are followed by lewd moans and grunts "Ben－" You cry out, lips brushing against his.

"Yes, doll?" His green irises meet your half lidded eyes, punctuating every lolltr moan you make with hard thrusts. '"Please... too much" You murmur, overstimulation hitting you while he slides his thumb to your swollen clit.

"Oh, you can take it, darlin." He lowly chuckles while he starts feeling himself throb inside your velvety walls, his thumb workingon your bud. You feel his thrusts getting slightly sloppy. Your lips closing around his neck, sucking and biting on the flesh, even though you knew you weren't gonna live a mark on his supe' skin.

He grins at your desperate action "Oh fuck" his hips resume their previous merciless rhythm, going deeper into you and hitting harshly on your sweet spot, rolling his hips. His thumb circling over your clit fast and pressing over it making you squeal. You feel yourself snapping again, your juices coat his cock till the base, squirting all over it.

He groans feeling you clench around him "Fucking needy whore, you're gonna cut my dick off if you keep clenching like that." You whine squirming slightly against him, on the other side he buries himself as deep as he could "M'gonna fucking knock you up"

You moan loudly at his sentence, his eyes onto yours "You want it, doll? Want me to knock you up?" You clench around him nodding and whimpering. He grunts biting down on your neck, thrusting a couple more times before slamming himself balls deep inside your quivering pussy, reaching his high.

Thick ropes quickly filling you up to the brim, an obscene low grunt coming out of his lips as he painted your walls white. You groan as he pulls himself out letting go of your legs "Fucking hell... you were so good for me sweetheart" her plants a kiss down your neck, you feel the mixture of juices dripping gown you thigh and ass.

"You're gonna need to wear those slutty glasses more often, doll." He states before handing you a warm towel and getting himself a nice ol' cigarette.

#lixiesbrowniess #jensen ackles x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy ben #the boys #jensen smut

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willowsnook · 5 months ago

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i need you back

Charles leclerc x wolff!reader

request from @dovesboccianoifiori

—--------------------------------------

“I can’t do this anymore, Charles,” you said, tears streaming down your face as you stood by the front door of his Monaco apartment with your suitcases. Your boyfriend stood broken in front of you, eyes begging you not to leave.

“Please, y/n, it will get better,” he tried to reason, but you laughed, shaking your head.

“You don’t get it, Charlie, you don’t get it because you’re the prince of Ferrari; everyone loves you. You don’t have people constantly commenting on your appearance, what you say, what you wear, or anything you like on social media. They hate me because they love you,” you finished sadly. “I love you more than you could ever know, but I also love myself.”

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to your cheek. You leaned it to it gently before pressing one last kiss on his lips and leaving.

You cried the whole way to the airport, feeling like you had ripped your own heart out, but you knew this was for the best. It had been a long time since you were really happy; the hate you consistently got had finally broken you down, and you knew you needed to be alone to build yourself back up. Charles hadn’t done anything wrong, but he also didn’t get it, so it was frustrating when you didn’t feel like you had anyone to talk to about it with.

This would be good for you.

—------------------------

It had been a couple of months since your breakup with Charles, and though it still stung, you were adapting. You moved back to your family’s estate in Vienna and had connected with a bunch of old friends who were getting you through.

You hadn’t seen Charles since you left, but according to social media, he wasn’t out in public often. He looked half-alive in the PR videos Ferrari had been posting. He had tried calling you a lot the first month, but now it was silent between you.

“Hi, sweetheart,” your dad said, knocking on your bedroom door. You were snuggled up in your blankets, watching a movie.

“Hi, dad,” you greeted softly. His face looked around the room in concern, not used to the messy state it was currently in.

“Why don’t you come to the race with me this weekend?” He asked. “I think it will be good for you.”

“I don’t know…,” you trailed off.

“Come on honey, F1 is yours too,” he said, and you thought about it. You had missed being in the paddock for race weekends these past months. He was right; Charles didn’t own F1, and you were allowed to enjoy it.

“Okay,” you said, agreeing, and Toto smiled.

—----------------Belgian GP—--------------------------

The hot sun beat down on you as you stepped into the paddock, dressed in Mercedes colors. You made it a couple of feet before the eyes got to you, making you falter. It felt like everyone was looking at you, and you started to panic.

“Keep moving forward,” a voice said from next to you, pushing you forward. You gave Lewis a grateful smile as he fell into step with you.

“I thought it would be easier,” you murmured to him.

“It’s just because it’s your first race back,” he told you. “They’ll move on to the next thing in a few days.”

His words comforted you as you walked with him. Smiling at familiar faces and ignoring the flashes from cameras. Your dad was waiting for you in the garage, and he gave Lewis a nod of appreciation as you approached.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you. “Excited for today?”

“Yeah,” you told him with a genuine smile. “Is Kimi here?”

“Yeah, he’s on his side,” your dad said, waving you off. You and Kimi had grown close when he joined as a reserve driver since your dad was obsessed with him, so he was around a lot. You were closer to him in age than George, so your friendship was natural.

Kimi lit up when he saw you jogging over to you, and you giggled.

“Hi Kimi,” you sai,d and he wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around.

“Ciao Bella,” he said, happy to see you. “I’m so glad you are here.”

“Me too,” you said, smiling.

“I need to see someone at Williams. Will you come with?” He asked, and you nodded. The two of you set out and you were temporarily distracted from your sadness until you spotted him.

He came to a stop, mid-conversation with Carlos as he saw you. Carlos followed his line of sight, and his eyes looked pained when he saw you.

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with Charles. He looked thinner, his usually vibrant green eyes now dull and rimmed with dark circles. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as you both stared at each other across the paddock.

Kimi noticed your sudden tension and followed your gaze. "Ah, merda," he muttered under his breath. He gently touched your lower back, ready to steer you away if needed.

Charles took a hesitant step forward, his expression a mixture of hope and heartbreak. But before he could approach, Carlos grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear. Charles reluctantly nodded, casting one last longing look in your direction before allowing Carlos to lead him away.

You released a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Thanks, Kimi," you said softly, and he smiled at you sympathetically.

Kimi greeted another guy who appeared to be around your age as you made it to Williams. You were racking your brain trying to remember who he was, knowing he was a reserve driver.

“Franco, this is y/n wolff,” Kimi introduced, and Franco’s eyes widened at your last name.

“Who knew the daughter of the wolf would be so beautiful?” he said, recovering and bringing your hand up to kiss its back. You laughed as Kimi snorted, and Franco grinned at both of you. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n; Kimi has said a lot about you.”

“You too, Franco,” you said, and the three of you chatted for a bit. You instantly grew to like Franco, and his jokes and laughter made your day a little better.

It was getting closer to practice, and Kimi had to head back to Mercedes, as he was driving George’s car, but Franco held your arm back.

“Do you want to just stay here with me?” He asked. “I can keep you company.”

“Sure,” you said without a second thought. You said goodbye to Kimi and hung around with Franco, interested in seeing what another team’s garage was like.

Franco kept the conversation going with you, and at one poin,t the two of you looked at the broadcast to see yourselves on the screen. Franco grinned widely as you shied away.

“Not a fan of the spotlight?” He teased, and you gave him an uneasy look.

“More so, not a fan of what comes with it,” you said, and he nodded in understanding.

“Is that why you and Charles broke up?” He asked bluntly before blushing. “Sorr,y that’s none of my business, but Kimi had mentioned it.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. “But yeah, I was pretty much getting ripped apart every day online so I needed a break.”

“I know it’s easier said than done,” he stated. “But you shouldn’t even worry about what those people are saying. They are losers, and you are a beautiful girl who shouldn’t pay them attention.”

“Thanks, Franco,” you said, tears in your eyes. He let you rest your head on his shoulder, and you were thankful that a new friendship was starting to blossom.

—-------------------------------

You and Franco kept in touch over summer break, and you even met up when you were both in London. He quickly became one of your closest friends; you found it easy to open up to him, and he gave excellent advice. Charles was not pleased about this new development.

“Would she really move on that quickly from me?” He asked, irritated. Carlos gave him a pointed look from across the table. He was tired of hearing Charles spiral whenever he got wind that you had hung out with Franco.

“Rebecca said that they are just friends,” Carlos said. “She’s allowed to have friends.”

Charles scoffed, “Of course she can have friends. But why do they have to be involved in F1?”

“Maybe because her dad is the most popular team principal, and her mom is in charge of the academy?” Carlos reasone,d but Charles wasn’t listening.

Charles shook his head, his frustration evident. "I just don't understand. We were so happy together. How could she just move on like this?"

Carlos sighed, setting down his coffee cup. "Charles, my friend, you need to let this go. It's been months. Y/N made her decision, and you need to respect that."

"But I love her," Charles insisted, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't just forget about her."

"I'm not saying you should forget," Carlos said gently. "But you need to focus on yourself, on your racing. Obsessing over who she's spending time with isn't healthy."

Charles slumped in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just... seeing her at the track, with Franco... it hurts."

Carlos reached across the table, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

—----------------------------------

You were in the Williams garage again for the weekend because it was officially Franco’s first F1 race. Monza was electric, and you couldn’t help but feel excited for Charles as well. You’d been nervous when you arrived, but many people in the Tifosi stopped you, commenting on how much they missed seeing you with Charles. It definitely was a stark contrast to what you were used to seeing online.

You didn’t stop the happy tears from coming when you watched Charles take the podium, and Franco getting points was the cherry on top. Everyone was going out that night, and Kimi invited you to tag along as his plus one. You threw on a cute red mini-dress and headed to the upscale restaurant with Kimi. Most of the other drivers were there, and you were having a good time until you realized the girl Charles was sitting next to was clearly his plus one.

You tried to focus on your conversation with Rebecca and Carlos, but your eyes drifted back to Charles and his date. The girl was beautiful, with long dark hair and a dazzling smile. She seemed completely at ease among the drivers and team members, laughing at their jokes and fitting in seamlessly.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Rebecca asked, noticing your distraction.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired I guess."

Carlos and Rebecca exchanged a knowing look. "We can leave if you want," Carlos offered kindly.

"No, no. I'm fine," you insisted, taking a large sip of your wine. But then you looked over again to see Charles date. Right as she pressed a kiss on his cheek, it was over. Tears instantly filled your eyes, and you pushed out of your chair, ignoring people calling after you as you moved toward the exit. A sob escaped your mouth as the fresh air hit you, and two arms were quickly around you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Carlos soothed, rubbing your back as you clung to him.

“It hurts Carlos,” you cried, and his heart broke at the sight of you.

“I know,” he said.

Charles had seen you bolt out of the restaurant and was only a few paces behind Carlos on the way out. He saw you in Carlos’ arms and was very confused.

“Y/n,” he called out your name, and you whirled on him, anger rising through your body.

“What do you wan,t Charles?” You asked harshly. His brows furrowed at your tone.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said, and you laughed humorlessly.

“I’m fine, just go back to your new girlfriend,” you spat out, and he flinched before matching your anger with his own.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to move on but I’m not?” He sneered, and you stepped towards him angrily.

“Please enlighten me with who I’m apparently moving on with,” you snapped.

“Don’t be ridiculous, all I see are you and Franco going out to dinner, you in the Williams garage, you with him in London.”

“Tell me this, Charles, have you ever seen any pictures of him touching me?” You asked icily. “Pictures of him whispering into my ear like your date tonight? Or of him kissing me?”

Charles stilled at your words, finally realizing that maybe you and Franco were just friends. But you weren’t done.

“I can’t believe you would throw this in my face,” you seethed at him. “I still fucking love you Charles! I’m fucking miserable, and you think I just threw our whole relationship away for someone else this quickly. Do you even know me?”

Your voice cracked at the last word, and pain flashed across his face as he took another step towards you.

Charles reached out to touch your arm; his eyes filled with regret. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

You jerked away from his touch, tears streaming down your face. "Don't. Just don't, Charles.”

Carlos stepped between you, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. "I think it's time for you to go back inside, Charles," he said firmly.

Charles looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Carlos' expression made him think better of it. He cast one last pained look at you before turning and heading back into the restaurant.

You sagged against Carlos, suddenly feeling drained. "I want to go home," you whispered.

"Of course," Carlos said gently. "I'll call a car for you."

As you waited for the car to arrive, you couldn't help but replay the encounter. The hurt in Charles' face burning in your mind.

—--------------------------------------

Charles was desperate to get you back. He had sent flowers, jewelry, clothes, literally anything that would make you even consider answering one of his many calls. You accepted the gifts but weren’t giving in to him yet; his words from Monza still echoing in your mind.

You currently were in the Williams hospitality suite, grabbing a coffee with Franco, who had his precious mate.

“I like your bracelet. Is it new?” Franco asked innocently, and you shot him a look. It was one of the many gifts from Charles that had shown up on your door this past week.

“Thank you,” you said, not commenting on it further. Franco rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.

“I want to show you something,” he said, and you leaned over curiously. He had a bunch of screenshots of comment sections on instagram and twitter on his phone. “I know that you got swept up in all the hate you were getting, but look closer at it; look at how many people reply to those people defending you.”

Hesitantly, you took his phone from hi,m and you scrolled through. He was right; for every one hate comment, there were at least ten telling them off and in support of you.

Your eyes widened as you continued scrolling through Franco's phone, taking in all the supportive comments. "I... I never noticed these before," you said softly.

Franco gently took his phone back. "That's because you were too focused on the negative. But Y/N, there are so many people out there who adore you. You shouldn't let a few trolls dictate your happiness."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions wash over you. "Thank you for showing me this, Franco. It really means a lot."

He smiled warmly. "That's what friends are for."

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Charles: "Can we please talk? I miss you so much."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Franco noticed your expression change and raised an eyebrow. "Charles again?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "He wants to talk.”

“You should meet up with him,” Franco said. “You still love him, and this break isn’t doing you or him any good. You two belong together.”

After thinking about it for a second, you decided that you agreed and texted him back, saying you could meet him in the hotel lobby this evening.

The rest of the day went by fast, and you soon found yourself waiting on a couch for Charles in the lobby, twiddling your thumbs nervously.

You saw Charles before he saw you. He walked into the lobby, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His face lit up with a mixture of relief and apprehension as he approached.

"Y/N," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

You nodded, your heart racing. "Of course, Charles."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, both of you unsure where to start. Finally, Charles took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For not understanding what you were going through, for not being there for you the way I should have been. And especially for what happened in Monza. I was jealous and hurt, and I lashed out. It was wrong of me."

You felt tears prick at your eyes. "I'm sorry too, Charlie, for running away that night in Monaco. I should have talked to you about my feelings instead of just leaving."

“I need you back y/n,” he begged. “You belong by my side, I can’t take another weekend of seeing you not in Ferrari colors.”

You let out a small giggle at his request, and he relaxed. He reached for your hand and held it tightly, caressing your skin gently.

“Okay,” you said softly. “I’ll come back, if you’ll have me.”

Charles's face broke out into a grin, and he pulled you into his lap, your cheeks reddening with the embarrassment of being in public.

“Charlie, we are in public,” you complained, nestled against his chest.

“I don’t care, mon cheri,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

For the first time in months, you felt a glimmer of hope—hope that things could be different this time. Together, you’d rebuild what was broken, stronger than before.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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