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logansargeantsbabymom · 2 months

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We'll Keep Him Safe

Arthur Leclerc x Fem!Reader, BRIEF Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

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The Fourth of July was supposed to be a day of celebration, but for Arthur and me, it became a haunting reminder of our darkest fears.

We had welcomed Bucky into our lives just a few weeks earlier—a tiny Dachshund with big, curious eyes and a playful spirit that lit up our home. His presence was like a ray of sunshine, weaving joy into the fabric of our everyday lives.

As evening descended and the first fireworks erupted in the sky, Bucky's excitement quickly turned to terror. The loud bangs and dazzling lights sent him into a panic, his small body trembling uncontrollably. Arthur and I tried everything to soothe him, wrapping him in blankets, holding him close, but nothing could calm his frantic fear.

"He's never heard fireworks before," I murmured, my heart aching as Bucky whimpered in my arms.

"We'll keep him safe," Arthur reassured me, his voice strained with concern.

We brought Bucky inside, hoping the familiar surroundings would ease his anxiety. But the fireworks continued, their intensity growing with each burst of sound and light. In a moment of sheer panic, Bucky slipped from Arthur's grasp and darted through the open back door.

"No, Bucky, come back!" I cried, my voice cracking with fear as I watched him disappear into the darkness.

Without a second thought, Arthur and I rushed outside, calling Bucky's name into the chaotic night. Our voices joined by neighbors' shouts, mingling with the distant sounds of celebration.

We searched tirelessly through the neighborhood, our hearts pounding with every corner turned, every hopeful glance that ended in disappointment. Hours stretched into eternity as we called out for Bucky, our desperation growing with each passing minute.

By the time we returned home in the early hours of the morning, hope had dwindled to a faint glimmer. Exhausted and defeated, I sank onto the couch, tears streaming down my face as Arthur sat beside me, his own grief etched deeply on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I promised we'd keep him safe."

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. We held each other in silent anguish, our hearts heavy with the weight of what might have been lost.

The next morning arrived with a heaviness that matched the ache in my chest. Arthur rose early, his determination unwavering as he prepared to continue the search. I stayed behind, trapped in a cycle of agonizing uncertainty. Every passing hour deepened my despair. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep—my mind consumed by visions of Bucky alone and afraid.

When Arthur returned later that afternoon, he was empty-handed and visibly exhausted. He collapsed onto the couch beside me, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"We have to find him, Arthur," I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear. "He's out there somewhere."

Arthur took my hand, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I know, Y/N. I won't give up."

But as the day wore on and dusk approached once more, hope continued to slip through our fingers like sand. I stared out the window, my eyes fixed on the empty backyard where Bucky used to play. The silence was deafening, echoing the emptiness in my heart.

"I'm going out again," Arthur said quietly, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "I won't stop until I bring him home."

I nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of my gratitude and fear. I watched Arthur leave, a solitary figure disappearing into the fading light.

Alone in the silence, my thoughts drifted back to the day we had brought Bucky home. I remembered the way he had bounded into our lives, his tail wagging furiously, his playful antics filling our home with laughter. Now, that laughter felt like a distant memory, drowned out by the ache of loss and the relentless tick of the clock.

Hours passed with agonizing slowness. I paced the living room, my mind a whirlwind of doubt and despair. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing Bucky again, never feeling his warm, furry body nestled against mine, never hearing the pitter-patter of his paws on the hardwood floor.

When Arthur finally returned, it was well past midnight. His steps were heavy, his expression drawn and weary. I rushed to his side, my heart pounding with anticipation and dread.

"Did you find him?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Arthur shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I looked everywhere."

I collapsed onto the couch, my hands covering my face as I gave in to the overwhelming grief. Arthur sank down beside me, pulling me close, his own tears mingling with mine.

"We'll find him," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We have to."

But as the night stretched on, sleep remained elusive. I lay awake in the darkness, my thoughts consumed by memories of Bucky—the way he would curl up in my lap, the mischievous glint in his eyes when he stole Arthur's socks, the way he would nuzzle against my cheek when I needed comfort.

Morning dawned with a grayness that matched my mood. I rose wearily, my body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Arthur was already up, his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights and endless searching.

"We have to do something," I said quietly, my voice hollow with despair. "We can't just sit here and wait."

Arthur nodded, his jaw clenched with determination. "I know a few shelters in the area. Maybe someone found him."

We spent the day visiting every shelter within driving distance, showing Bucky's picture to anyone who would listen. Each place held a flicker of hope that was quickly extinguished by the sight of empty cages and sympathetic glances.

By the time we returned home, our hearts were heavy with disappointment. I sank onto the couch, my hands trembling as I buried my face in Arthur's shoulder.

"We're never going to find him, are we?" I whispered, my voice choked with tears.

Arthur held me close, his own despair echoing mine. "We will, Y/N. We have to believe that."

But belief slipped through our fingers like water, leaving behind only the bitter taste of loss and regret.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of Bucky. My grief became a constant companion, a heavy weight that pressed down on my chest and clouded my thoughts. Arthur continued to search, refusing to give up hope even as the days stretched into months.

One evening, as I sat alone in our quiet home, the doorbell rang. I answered it mechanically, my eyes dull with exhaustion.

Standing on the doorstep were Charles and his girlfriend Alexandra. Their faces were somber yet tinged with a glimmer of hope.

"We heard about Bucky," Charles began gently. "We've been keeping an eye out for him too."

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Every mention of Bucky felt like a fresh wound, reopening the ache of loss I couldn't escape.

Alexandra stepped forward, her eyes bright with something I couldn't place. "Y/N, we were out driving earlier today, and we saw a dog that looked just like Bucky. He was sitting on someone's porch, looking lost."

My heart leaped into my throat, hope clawing its way through the fog of despair. "Are you sure?" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with disbelief.

Charles nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Positive. We didn't want to get your hopes up, but we had to tell you."

Tears of relief and hope streamed down my face as I clung to Charles and Alexandra, their presence a lifeline in my darkest hour.

"Where did you see him?" Arthur asked urgently, his voice filled with urgency.

Charles gave him the address, and without hesitation, Arthur grabbed his keys and rushed out the door. I stood on the porch, my hands pressed against my racing heart, praying with every fiber of my being.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited, my thoughts a jumble of fear and anticipation. Finally, I saw Arthur's car pull into the driveway, Bucky's familiar face peering out the window.

My legs turned to jelly as I rushed forward, Arthur following close behind. Bucky bounded out of the car, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped into my waiting arms.

"Bucky! Oh, Bucky, you're here!" I cried, tears flowing freely as I showered him with kisses.

Arthur wrapped his arms around us both, relief flooding his expression. "I told you we'd find him," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I buried my face in Bucky's fur, my heart overflowing with gratitude and love. We had found our way back to each other, through the darkness and despair, guided by the unbreakable bond we shared.

As we stood together in the fading light, surrounded by the echoes of our shared ordeal, I realized that sometimes, hope was all we needed to see us through. And as Bucky licked my face eagerly, his joyous barks filling the air, I knew that our little family was stronger than ever before.

In the quiet of the evening, with Arthur's arms around me and Bucky nestled against my heart, I knew that we had weathered the storm together, and we would continue to do so, one day at a time.

For in the echoes of that Fourth of July night, hope had triumphed over despair, and love had found its way home.

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unpublishediary · 1 month

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You’re here, you survived, this is real.

(percy jackson hurt/comfort)

✵ synopsis: After your single trip to Tartarus, you’ve come back a different person, but not for the better. Everyone notices, but especially Percy as he becomes desperate for you to open up, hurt that you’re struggling in silence and knowing that keeping it inside is too close to tearing you apart.

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

warnings: mentions/talk of:loss of appetite, trauma, depression, isolation.

MASTERLIST -> reqs open !!

Percy’s breath caught in his throat once he met your gaze. The warmth that once radiated from your eyes had vanished, replaced by a chilling emptiness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Like a void so profound that it mirrored the darkness of Tartarus itself.

Seeing that endless abyss where your spark used to be, Percy felt dread settle in his chest, knowing that what you had faced was more than anyone should ever endure.

His eyes lingered on your cheekbones as they jutted sharply beneath your skin, casting shadows where there was once a healthy glow. He noticed how loose the collar of your shirt hung around your neck, the fabric draping over your frame like a shroud. As you shifted, the tattered edges of your sleeves fluttered, revealing glimpses of angry red scars given from where you once were.

The moment you returned, everyone noticed the slight tremor in your movements and the way your gaze darted around the room, as if searching for danger. Your fingers twitched at your sides, instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, revealing the unease that still gripped you.

Percy's heart clenched, a dull ache spreading through his chest. He recognized the haunted look in your eyes, having seen it reflected in his own mirror countless times. Each flinch, each hesitant movement you made, sent a jolt of empathy through him.

Hours later, as you sat at the table surrounded by friends, you felt an intense isolation. The sounds of laughter and clinking utensils faded into a distant hum, leaving you feeling detached. Your fork hovered above your plate, trembling slightly before you set it down, the food remaining untouched.

When you abruptly stood, your chair scraping against the floor, a hush fell over the room. The best you could do was mumble a stupid excuse before leaving behind a group of concerned glances.

Later that night, Percy's footsteps echoed down the hallway as he approached your door. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated when he heard the muffled sounds of distress from within. Instead, he rapped out a familiar pattern on the door—three quick taps followed by two slow ones.

The door creaked open, revealing your disheveled form. Your hair stood on end, dark circles etched beneath your eyes. The room behind you was in disarray – blankets twisted on the floor, books scattered, and a sense of anxiety lingering in the air.

"Hey…" Percy’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes scanning your face and noticing how you hugged yourself tightly, as if trying to hold yourself together—or maybe you were just cold. Without a word, he slipped off his hoodie and handed it to you, offering a silent gesture of comfort and warmth.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Your gaze fell to the floor, and your shoulders hunched inward, as if trying to shrink away from the weight of your emotions.

Percy glanced past you, taking in the chaos of the room, before extending his hand toward you, careful not to touch. “Can I?” he asked softly, his gesture conveying a silent request as he held out the jacket, ready to cover you with it.

Y You nodded, a barely perceptible movement, and followed him as he draped his hoodie over you. The cool air that had once sent shivers down your arms now seemed to dull in its effect. Walking through the hall was a welcome change from the confinement of your room, offering a brief escape from the suffocating atmosphere.

Percy watched as you leaned against the ship's railing, your fingers gripping the weathered wood so tightly that your knuckles turned white. The moonlight bathed your face in a ghostly glow, casting shadows that accentuated the hollows beneath your cheekbones and the dark circles under your eyes.

It was a stark reminder of the weight you carried. The effort you put into keeping it all together only seemed to deepen the strain, revealing that your attempts to hold everything in were, in fact, making it all the harder to bear.

"Talk to me," he urged softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes searched yours with an intensity born from desperation, as if trying to bridge the distance between your pain and his understanding.

You didn’t move, your gaze fixed on the dark waters below. The gentle lapping of waves against the hull filled the silence between you.

Percy inched closer, the proximity allowing him to feel the tension radiating from your body without quite touching. "I'm here," he whispered, his gaze locked on you with unwavering focus. "Whatever you need, just tell me."

A shuddering breath escaped you, your shoulders trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. "Every time I close my eyes…” you looked up to his green eyes piercing your own, his expression gave you the confidence to continue, even if your voice came out shaken. “I'm back there."

Percy's heart clenched. He knew all too well about the nightmares, but couldn’t imagine what plagued your mind every time you tried to rest. Thing things he could imagine you’ve seen...

You turned to face him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I don’t know how to do it. How to keep going."

Percy swallowed hard, searching for the right words. "One day at a time," he said finally. He had his share of what you were experiencing. "Even if it’s one hour at a time, it’s still progress. And especially remember you’re not alone."

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Without thinking, Percy reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb. He felt you tense up for a second, until you leaned into his touch, craving the warmth and comfort of human contact.

"I'm so tired," you whispered, your voice cracking.

Percy nodded, his expression softening with the kind of understanding that came from knowing deep pain. "I get it," he said, his voice steady but gentle. "I know you’re exhausted.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "But you’re here. You made it out, and that’s huge. It might not feel like it now, but things will get better. I promise you, they will. You’re stronger than you think, and this—everything you’re going through right now—this is just part of the healing. I know it’s tough, but you’re not alone. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”

You didn't respond, but you didn't pull away. Together, you stood in silence, watching the stars reflect on the dark water. The night was cold, but Percy's presence beside you offered a small warmth, a tiny spark of hope in the darkness that had become your world in so little time.

As the first light of dawn began to paint the sky, you felt something shift inside you. It wasn't happiness, not yet. But for the first time since your return, you felt a flicker of possibility. Maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to yourself.

( part 2 soon )

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