#Motorcycled around the world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-eat-worlds · 5 months

Text

Roadside Assistance

Sil crashes his motorcycle.

thanks to @snaillamp for helping with the medicine things. Go check out their stuff!

A&F Masterlist

cw: motorcycle crashes, major character injury, medical whump, fear of dying, depictions of pain

Sil felt like he was on fire.

Which was odd, considering it was pouring.

The rain did nothing to cool the hot, burning agony that spread all over his skin, nor the too-bright, buzzing sensation in his head or the sharp, intense pain in his hips and his legs. It was all over him, loud and screaming, and refusing to shut up.

He wanted it to stop. Now.

He didn’t care how.

Moving slowly, he tried to look at what was around him. His bike was tipped over several meters away, lying right in the middle of the road. The team had to be miles ahead of him already, halfway towards the lake. No one was coming. No one was going to find him.

Not unless he made them.

Ignoring the pain that blossomed around his ribs, he raised his arm and started to fumble with the strap of his helmet. It felt like it was suocating him, too tight against his cheeks and his forehead. Trying to keep the discomfort minimal, he knocked at it with his hand, slowly pushing it off his face. Once he’d gotten it past his ears, he dropped his hand back down and started patting for the pocket that held his phone.

A groan escaped his lips when he accidentally brushed the torn flesh off his thigh. He should've worn his leathers. Joseph was going to kill him for that.

The phone’s screen was cracked beyond repair, but it worked well enough. He raised it to his face, only for it to vibrate when it didn’t recognize it. Ugh. His fingers were shaking so much that it took several attempts to get it right.

Joseph was the last person he’d texted, and he quickly tapped the call button, followed by speakerphone. It only took two rings for him to pick up.

“Sil? Watcha’ need?” He said, voice calm, almost bored.

Oh. Joseph didn’t know yet.

“Help,” he choked out. “Fell off ‘m motorcycle.”

There was a beat of silence. “Where are you?”

His voice was still calm, but it was now obviously artificial.

“Green Lane?” It did look familiar, but he wasn’t quite sure where. “It ‘urts, Joseph.”

He could hear the sounds of him rushing to gather the team from the other side of the phone. “We’re on our way, Sil.”

That was good. Joseph would help him.

“Mmm. ‘hank you.” The pain flared, and his vision swam. “Always, Sil.”

His vision narrowed, and then went black.

“Sil? You with us?”

The voice was distant, but familiar. Who?

Someone’s hands were on his head, gripping it tight. There was the sound of Velcro being torn apart. The rain had stopped.

“Sil? C’mon.”

It was American.

Joseph.

Slowly, he pulled his eyelids apart.

Eric was looming over him, hands holding his neck. Joseph was only half visible, kneeling further down by his legs. He couldn’t see the rest of the team, though they had to be here. When he tried to turn his head to look for them, Eric’s grip grew tighter. “Try to keep still. We’ve gotcha.”

“Sil, can you tell me what hurts?” Joseph said, cutting off what was left of his pants.

“…Hips, legs, arms, head.” The list didn’t really cover everything. If Sil was being honest, it hurt everywhere.

“Alright, this is going to suck.” Joseph slid something under his legs. “I’m worried that your pelvis is broken, and this’ll help.”

That was bad, wasn’t it.

Sil caught an flash of bright orange as Joseph pulled it up higher, folded it over, and pressed a weird looking white thing over it. And then he pulled.

He gasped, hands curling up and digging into the still damp pavement. Ow. Fuck. Ow.

“I know, I know,” Joseph said.

It was pressing against the skin that had been scraped away by the road, which was horrible, but the real pain was emanating from the inside.

Joseph grabbed his wrist, eyes scanning him over. “Teri, what’s the ETA on support?”

“They’re saying sixteen forty-ish.” Sil couldn’t see her, but he could see Joseph’s face, and that told him plenty.

“The ambulance?” He pulled something out of his bag.

“Yep. No helimed.”

“Sharp scratch,” he warned, before the needle burrowed into his arm. He looked up to Teri. “Tell them to get the chopper out here.”

Helicopter? How bad was it?

Everything hurt, and he was tired and his heart was going so fast. Was he going to die?

It occurred to him that was not a question he should ask Joseph. Not after Pat. He casted his eyes up to Eric.

“ ‘m I gonna die?” He mumbled, voice practically a whisper.

Eric looked a little surprised. “No. We’ve got you.”

“But the ‘elichopter.”

“It’s to get you more help faster,” Joseph said, voice hard. “It does not mean you’re going to die.” Sil swallowed, and Joseph moved on. “I’m gonna give you something for the pain, and start some fluids, then I’ll look at your leg.”

There was a rush of cool down his arm. After some brief ddling with tubing, Joseph hooked him up to a bag of saline and enlisted Avia as a human IV stand.

Sil had no idea what his leg looked like, though judging from the splintering pain that radiated from his shin, it wasn’t pretty.

Joseph started to work. As it turned out, the drugs only damped pain, not removed it. The world was hazy. His chest hurt.

He blinked, very, very slow.

His eyes slipped closed.

Discomfort flared in his chest.

“Hey, none of that.”

Joseph was leaning over him, eyebrows furrowed. There was a rigid something around his leg. A shiny, metallic blanket was spread over him. It didn’t do much, though it kept the breeze out, which was appreciated.

“But ‘m tired.” Not tired. Exhausted. Like his life force was being drained out of him.

“I know,” Joseph said. “But try and stay awake.”

He grumbled. “Alright.”

Sleeping was so easy. He wanted easy.

Joseph’s fingers pressed into his wrist, and his eyes watched his chest. “You’re doing great, Sil.”

Avia smiled at him. “Yeah. You’ll be back to beating my ass at video games in no time.”

He smiled dumbly. “I will.”

“Or maybe I’ll beat yours?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“I don’t know if I’ll have an ass left after this.” His eyes ickered to Joseph. “Thoughts medic boy?” He snickered.

“I can assure you that you still have an ass, Sil,” he shook his head, “and a concussion.”

Any further conversation was cut out by the roar of a helicopter passing overhead. It was painted bright blue and orange, INSUPA MEDEVAC emblazoned on the side. The helicopter circled, lining itself up to land in a nearby field.

Several minutes later, two orange suited medics came down the road, carrying a bright yellow back board with them. Joseph started his report while they squatted down. Three introduced themselves, and Sil was not paying as much attention as he should’ve been. He was rolled and laid down on the board, strapped down tight, and then blocks were secured around his head.

It was easy to take the backseat as he was moved around like a human doll, positioned and lifted and transported.

He was tired.

He was cold.

It hurt.

He let the dark spots flashing in his vision take him.

He hoped he would wake up.

He didn’t know for sure.

*** His throat hurt.

That was the first thought he had when he returned to his body.

Sure, other things hurt. His leg, his hip, his chest. But that one was new.

He tried to open his eyes, but shut them immediately when the light came flooding in.

“Good morning, Sil.”

American.

Joseph.

He tried again, squinting away from the glowing terror. “Why’s it so bright?”

“Hospital.” Oh. That made sense. “Do you remember what happened?”

Sil huffed. “I crashed. Now my throat ‘urts.”

“That’s one way to put it.” There was the sound of a chair sliding across the tile. “I’m gonna get the doc in here, alright?”

“Can I ‘ave water first?” His throat really hurt.

Joseph paused. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” he said as Joseph put the cup to his lips.

“Always, Sil.”

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch

#worlds babbles #whump #medical whump #injury whump #broken bones #fear of death #joseph oc #sil oc #whump writing #this is fun tho I wished the pelvic fracture played a bigger part #unfortunately #they tend to come along with other things #this is bad but I might be tired.#but I finally got around to throwing Sil of a motorcycle so yay

17 notes · View notes

grinchwrapsupreme · 2 months

Text

being super normal about White calling Billy "a dreamer"after the events of Maybe No Go

#truly alarming amount of tags on this post don't click read more fr #the venture bros #pete white #bily quizboy #billy whalen #idk man the way they balance each other is really interesting #the things they agree on and disagree on are almost arbitrary #'you can't put mouthwash in a cookie' 'trust me' vs 'we should spend 10 mil on a motorcycle instead of housing' 'that's such a cool idea'#billy trying to pep white up about the ball #'this was your dream too' like come on dude when have pete's dreams ever worked out #when have yours #'what are we gonna do now billy?' 'we'll cross that bridge when we come to it'#baby the bridge has never been more present #ALSO white calling billy the dreamer when HE'S the one who pushes so hard for things #billy has dreams that might not be realistic but they give him hope and he works around the way the world works to make things happen #like being a self-taught surgeon and believing in a magic ball #pete has dreams IN SPITE of what is realistic and he will mold reality to be what he wants in order to make it happen #like fixing the quizshow and pretty much everything that happened in invisible hand of fate #and they both have disabilities that affect them in vastly different ways and impact their relationship with realistic goals #like billy's hydrocephalus being presented to the audience as mostly a social issue for him and the hand and eye being marks of trauma #rather than like an actual block for him beyond needing to tune the hand up every now and then #vs white's albinism making him physically unable to be in direct sunlight and making him actively fearful of doing certain things and #being certain places #to be clear i know the actual effects of hydrocephalus as well as the hand and eye but this is based on how the show presents it #like billy took these things about himself into account and went ok these are part of my reality and i will work with them #and pete took his reality and went ok i will cover it up with fake tan and wigs or sunscreen and hats and make reality what i want it to be #and that's what makes them a good team!! that's why they science together well #it's also why they argue so much #accepting reality and playing within its constraints vs hating reality and changing it to suit you #these are the hallmarks of scientific progress

12 notes · View notes

aiiaiiiyo · 2 years

Text

#The first English woman to ride a motorcycle around the world #Elspeth Beard (1980’s)#Adpecialist #oldschool

107 notes · View notes

pussy-ache · 9 months

Text

thinking about how my sister just got engaged at 27 to her first boyfriend ever and i just don’t have a good feeling about it

#i mean i’m not talking to her right now lmao. i did not even say congrats #but i’m still her older sister and i don’t believe she really has experienced enough of the world and of love itself to be tied down #at least in that way — technically speaking she’s already ‘’tied down’’ being in a long term committed relationship #but like. i know she thinks my mom had us when she was ‘’too old’’#my mom had me at 35 and my sister at 38 #my sister criticizes my mother for that and has made comments throughout the years about how her friends mothers are all so much younger #meanwhile my mother lived an EXPANSIVE life in hers 20s and early 30s #she went out outward bound trips with hippy dippy granola eating fucks and camped out for months on end #she jumped out of planes and paraglided and rode motorcycles #she was a huge pothead and spent so much time at the beach studying tide pools and looking for horseshoe crabs #she even metal detected after storms to see if she could find unique lost beautiful jewelery and other items that were lost at sea #she was a PERSON and without those experiences would NOT have been our mother #i’ve explained this to my sister dozens of times over — your opinion of our moms age is based upon you not seeing her as a PERSON w/ a LIFE #and she does not care. she still believes my mom was ‘’too old’’ which is a ridiculous argument because having kids in your 30s is NOT. OLD #like even outside of my opinion of our moms life. my sister is literally just wrong across the board because 30s is NORMAL #she frustrates me to no end because our ‘’differences of opinion’’ are actually REALLY big differences like. stop dehumanizing our mom….?#so truly. honestly. this is just a big push to ‘’not end up like’’ our mom so she’s getting married earlier and will have kids earlier #now in my own right i don’t want to ‘’end up like’’ my mom either — ie in a marriage that is unfulfilling with a man who bosses her around #but the difference between her opinion of ‘’not ending up’’ like her is she blame MOM for everything #meanwhile in MY example i blame my father for being a piece of shit to our mother and vowed i would never be in that situation myself period #but that’s not putting blame on my mother. that’s me seeing my mother as a VICTIM of injustice and misogyny #meanwhile my sister just sees my moms decisions as a ‘’problem’’ to be ‘’fixed’’#meanwhile i am consistently reminding myself that while my mother loves her children very much…#she inherently had to LOSE herself in order to have us and fashion a new version of herself - the ‘’mom’’ version to replace her real self #my sister doesn’t care to talk to our mom about the intricacies that come with all of this. i do. quite often actually.#my moms rule was that she was not getting married before 30. period.#the first thing i said when my mom told me my sister was engaged was #‘’i don’t even believe someone should get married period. but especially not before 30’’#she agreed. because she TAUGHT us that! she TAUGHT us the importance of finding yourself before anything else #but my sister in her race to ‘’not be like’’ our mom is missing out on turning into a wonderful person for it?

6 notes · View notes

south-sea · 1 year

Text

given the number of times we see metal with some kind of rocket/some other vehicle i’d like to think he unironically likes having something else do the work (flying/going fast/etc) for him sometimes

#the same could probably be said about shadow and his motorcycle #this is a thinly veiled way of saying i still lowkey want to figure out a way #to get metal a flying vehicle thing like in all stars racing transformed and shadow a bike in second chance au #i do think even second chance shadow would find a certain novelty in a bike and going fast just to go fast #but in a way that did not require effort on his part #since i also think him going fast on foot isn’t as natural to him as it is to sonic #but where would they… keep them #how would they bring these big vehicles around with them to other worlds and whatnot #maybe starbound logic where they’re basically summoned from a little pod item or something idk #i just want good fun things for my boys 😭#sea talks

14 notes · View notes

abimee · 11 months

Text

ruyan and chefant could never break up because the overseeing god of their fate (Minthe) (Sarah) (Aria) has designated them as having to be forever each other's perfect half. they are incapable of seperating once connected and its why he doesnt die. this has only happened twice in the entire timeline of my ocverse

#the first time was Luka/Luka and Melo... oh my god #oh my god...#those two were MADE for each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#luke even giving up his soul cut in half to balance out the tear in the universe and the other half being reborn #as a child that Melo raises and even names Luka once more and cares for her more than anything in the world #even though Melo was chased from her own city for being a Witch and made to side with the kins #and she always carried around the calicified soul of Luke one placed over her heart and the other half to Luka's heart....#Melo and Luke always and forever in love #second one are Clarence and Anthony. those two are just soul mates #clarence is an asshole and stuck up and a square. a total cube of a man #in bed at 7 needs people to say excuse me when passing him level square #what does anthony see in him? well technically clarence sees god in anthonys eyes. so they get married age 20 #when its all over they get true true married like at the chapel and they drive off on anthonys motorcycle..........

3 notes · View notes

krazeyjay · 2 years

Text

ALL THAT CRYING OVER HAVING A LONELY SOUL AND I JUST MADE MY FIRST REAL FRIEND IN YEARS

#i fuck w her as much as she fucks with me and i feel like i need to scream it to the world that i finally found someone that sees me #SHE LOVES MCR SHE LOVES NIN SHE FUCKS AROUND ON MOTORCYCLES SHES FUNNY SHES JUST LIKE ME SHES JUST LIKE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#WE EXCHANGED NUMBERS TO SEND PLAYLISTS TO EACH OTHER WE'RE THE SAME AGE SHE ALWAYS SEEKS ME OUT TO HANG OUT AT WORK #I FEEL SO FUCKING WOFOPECKDJEKWNXNCOV

4 notes · View notes

guinevereslancelot · 2 years

Text

can't relate

#just cant relate #autism tag #i sincerely believe i am the normal person and there is something wrong with everyone else #loud noises festival in my region im hanging on by a thread how do people endure this in purpose for fun 😭#not loud music btw just motorcycles the break the fucking sound barrier passing by every 3 minutes im gonna start biting #its sooo loud how do people voluntarily get on the worlds loudest tricycle and go meet up with 50 other people on loud bikes #just to hang out in parking lots and drive around at a deafening volume #its so loud :(

2 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 months

Text

I can't stop thinking about Ghost with a motorcycle. The man dwarfs just about everything, but somehow he manages to find a nice either 600cc or 1000cc that fits him and he's set. He takes it everywhere, stares down cops and revs for the pretty things that wave at him from cars. All his gear is black, his helmet is tinted and he looks like a modern interpretation of death, but he also breaks to let turtles cross the road and doesn't let anyone on his bike without a helmet.

Backpacking for him is such a treat because he'll reach back and rub his hand along your leg at stoplights, tell you to "be good" every time you start squeezing somewhere you shouldn't. The man is a little bit of a stretch to get your legs around, but leaning against his back and watching the world whizz by is amazing. He always checks all your gear is on properly before starting the engine too, adjusting the strap on your helmet and bumping his black one against your more colorful one, helping you onto the bike even when you don't need it, and giving a little jolt forward to make you cling to him. The man knows what he's doing, and he's not going to risk precious cargo like you, but that doesn't mean you won't enjoy having you cuddled close and hugging him the whole ride.

He follows your directions every time you pat his leg to signal a turn, and stands around while you run into shops or up to ice cream vendors. What's he supposed to do? Say no? Not a chance.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #ghost cod

6K notes · View notes

motocrunch · 3 months

Text

Perfect

#motorcycle adventure #adventure #perfect match #moto love #motorcycle #motorbike #lifestyle #moto adventure #classic bike #moto life #motorcyclelove #van life #travelling around the world

88 notes · View notes

helmetheadtalks · 1 year

Text

youtube

#Youtube #motorcycle #motorbike #bike #bikelife #adventure #motorcycles #honda #ktm #bikersofinstagram #instamoto #honda monkey #hondamotorcycle #worldtravel #worldinfluencers #around the world

1 note · View note

justivik · 21 days

Text

yandere! biker headcanons.

english isn't my first language

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who noticed your presence at the traffic light, saw you calmly shaking your head while your lips chanted the lyrics of a song and your fingers played with the steering wheel.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker instantly felt a crush on you.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who followed you to your destination after the red light turned green, no one has ever made him feel this way.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker that he realized that you don't live that far away from him. While you live in some apartments, he lives in a nice house. From there he started his plan to get into your life and be someone important to you, to get you out of your apartment (and out of the world) to make you much happier and safer!

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker one day he showed up in front of your apartment as a new neighbor in the area, his beauty hypnotized you and he knew it perfectly well. You invited him to eat something inside your place (you fell in the trap) and had a warm conversation.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who gradually becomes one of your closest friends.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker His obsession grows more and more every day, watching you and following you everywhere. If you met him somewhere he would excuse himself as a ''simple coincidence''.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“What a nice coincidence! You know… reading and stuff” he took a random book.

“I didn't know you liked grotesque erotic reading”

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who invites you for late night rides on his motorcycle around town. A movie date where you both eat ice cream and end up dancing in an alley with a pretty nice boy band (he was jealous that the lead singer made you laugh).

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker as the months passed and the two of you fell more and more in love. He decided to take the decision to ask you out.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who was very happy to get a yes as an answer (you don't want to know what would have happened to both of you if you had said no). That same night you two had your first kiss as an official couple, you don't know how happy he was that night.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who calls you by cute nicknames

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker I invite you to leave your apartment so that you can live in his house with all the desired amenities.

๋࣭ ⭑ yandere! biker who is excited about the new sweet (and possessive) life.

“You're mine, don't forget that. You promised”

2K notes · View notes

frmisnow · 3 months

Text

✧˖ ?!— THE ASSHOLE THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU FORGIVE & FORGET. - (NSFW.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🍸: "wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you ??"

summary. despite your best efforts at avoiding your much-hated hookup boxer, he somehow finds a way to your apartment claiming he's here for your own good benefit, being a total ass- does he even have the ability to change? well, he's determinded to make you forgive & forget... in his own unique ways!

notes. haven't written full blown smut in quite a while aaahhhh also my longest fic up to date??? - this is part two of TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS but can be read on it's own.

warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, they still kinda hate eachother sry (tiny bit of character development in the middle tho), elements of angst, making out, he's a bit of a dick :/, reader is kind of a therapist (pls don't go around in real life trying to fix ppl!!), tit/nipple play, riding, kook sub tendency towards the end, unprotected sex (she's on the pill tho), not proofread :/

you starred blankly at the text bubble he sent you a minute ago, hell- it was 2 am- you blinked repeatedly, reading it once more:

unknown number (jeon ) : i'm outside your apartment

you've done your absolute best avoiding him at all costs, you couldn't no- you shouldn't at all, never ever form a connection with him and though you'd usually be okay with having a little fling, you didn't want to be associated with him nor did you want to see his face. it was a hate fuck, nothing more, nothing less - but he always knew just how to ruin your plans.

you looked outside the window, actually sighting a figure, a motorcycle close to them as the person lifted it's head shortly from their phone, you quickly typed in a response.

y/n ( reader ) : how do you know my number, how do you know my adress and what makes you think i'll open the door unknown number (jeon ) : i'm cold

the simplicity of the incoming answer, made you roll your eyes, opening the window instantly after reading yelling out to the person: "i'll call the police for stalking"

he instantly yells back, "you don't actually have any intentions of calling the police. you want to see me" with every word stepping a bit closer to your apartment, now practically being next to your door.

"ha," you let out till full blown starting to laugh, "i wanna see you?" the smile from the laugh still plastered of your face, "you really think so?"

"oh i'm sure of it, what else is there to do on a saturday night? i just know you've been thinking bout my big dick all day, i know it makes you sick- but y'know what? i'm here to fix it for you" he looks up to you while delivering his dialogue in a sarcastic tone like he's the savior of the world, his smirk coming back once more.

you skipped down the stairs, opening the door just a few centimeters, enough to see your face, not enough to completly look into your apartment, answering him back now face to face, giving him a rather unimpressed look: "right, you showed up but somehow u're still blabbering 'bout me wanting you here, but whatever go on- tell me i'm the needy cockslut who wants you right now"

his hands reach out to presumably touch your tits as you make the split of the open door a little smaller so his hands won't fit through while he makes a tiny sound of disapproval in the mean time almost like a 'tsk tsk' until he starts talking again:

"you're standing here in your pjs at 2am opening up your door for no other then me and that says just enough"

you stand there silent for just a few seconds till bouncing back on his answer, "don't get it twisted, i wanted to see what you have to say for yourself-"

his smug little smirk on his face grows bigger as you speak, his words dripping with sarcasm as if you're playing right into his hands "oh so you are interested in what i have to say?"

"very much so but so far you've been talking a lot of shit which doesn't necessarly surprise me either"

jungkooks grin still remains maybe even gets bigger, his voice dripping of sarcasm, "oh c'mon you love anything that has a dick for you to suck on, you're not big on words"

you open the door a bit more further, sighing like you're tired: "well quite frankly i don't feel like having your dick in my mouth"

he runs his hands through his hair, few seconds of silence passing when he finally responds now a little more serious: "are you really gonna act like you didn't enjoy the last time we're together?"

you gulp, for the first time avoiding eye contact: "well not everything revolves around sex"

"ah well isn't that cute, trying to play innocent?" his smile suddenly disappears, his brow furrowing as he gives you a serious look, "look at me. right on the eyes"

you look him in the eyes again, voice getting just a bit louder: "you don't get it, you see any pussy and jump straight onto it then leave which would be fine- but i don't want us to be fuck buddies, i don't want us being awkward at work, i don't want to form an attraction beyond sex to you in any way and i won't even risk it- and you? you don't even think about anything, you just think with your dick"

his eyebrow raises as he lets out a chuckle and rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah i guess i am quite a shitty guy for not wanting anything more than just to dick you down for all eternity"

you rest your head on the wall next to the door in frustration, making a sound close to a sigh again: "you'll leave me in a week, i'll get attached, you'll make fun of me- i don't want that" surprisingly honest and serious.

he stares at you for few seconds longer, you're not making eye contact anymore, still pressed on the wall your head facing downwards. he sighs and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath as if preparing himself for what he's about to say: "you really think that little of me huh?"

you respond calmly though still avoiding his eyes, admitting in all honesty: "you've given me no reason to think more of you"

and for the first time since you've ever seen him, you see jungkook generally hurt, his eyes not settling as he begins to slowly nod like he understood, taking a step back from the door, "i'll leave you alone"

you watch him take a few steps- but you just can't do this. he was right, for the first time in everything he has said so far- he was right: you wanted him. you didn't know if you wanted him beyond sex but you weren't gonna figure this out right now either so you made the spontanous gut decision, you swiftly walked behind him- grabbing his arm, stopping him.

"you can call me a dumb whore- but i've changed my decision, i don't want you to leave"

you can almost see his brain working your words out one by one till he returns to good old self, voice thick of sarcasm, a sly grin making it's way onto his face once more "oh and why's that?"

"can you shut up?"

it's a messy kiss. desperate, longing, needing - telling. his hands not settling, moving all across your body, squeezing and kneading wherever they can in a matter of time you both stumble back into your apartment, lips not breaking apart not even once even as he closes the front door with his foot, deepening the kiss mean while.

you get pushed back onto the couch, your lips still locked together as his hands move under your clothes, taking off each item of your clothing at lightning speed, like he's trying to tear them all apart.

you break away in the mean time to breathe as you basically pant, taking the short time to look down onto yourself, practically naked then look at him who still had way to many clothes on for your liking, "not fair" your words barerly good said as he basically swallowed them by kissing you once more.

he shifts his position again, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap, groaning into the kiss, trying his best to combine keeping you in place with one hand and cupping your face rather violently with the other.

"please," you pull his pants just a bit to get your point across, "not fair" repeating what you already said like a broken toy in addition you pouted which y'know gets u sympathy points usually, you wanted to feel him- it was only fair.

"oh look who's upset?" a grin splarred over his face, tone mocking maybe even belittling, "you'll have to earn it" running his fingers through one of your hair strands till his gaze returns to your eyes.

"i thought we were over this," you whined till throwing your head back in frustration, "please, i was so nice"

"nice? you called me a shitty guy, thought little of me and basically called me a womanizer among other things." he puts both of his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart more so you sit wider on him, "and you really think that 'pretty pretty please' is gonna be enough?"

no matter how good he was of a fucker, you weren't just gonna throw away your morals for him completly so you bluntly responded: "the fact that i'm even on your lap right now after some of the shit you said is pretty damn nice of me"

"fair point" he admits and his hands wander up your body once more, tracing each and every curve of your body, holding you down tightly to stop you from moving "you're not a nice girl. you know what you are?"

you responded instantly before he could say anything, putting a finger on his mouth to pervent more bullshit coming from that pretty mouth of his: "don't call me a whore, i won't tolerate slut shaming anymore when you're just as much of one as me, if not more"

he squeezed your thighs during your little speach, acting like a brat who doesn't give two shits about whatever you're saying, "you know i love it when you try to play this 'respect me' act, acting like you really are not some little whore that just wants to get pounded into a matress till she can't take it anymore"

you rolled your eyes immediately, taking in a deep breath: "everytime i have the feeling like i'm getting somewhere with you, i'm talking you developing your brain from teenage boy age 13 to 14, you piss me of even more- god i fucking hate you"

he leans forward, his body even closer to yours, a cruel smile crossing his face, "oh i love the way you get angry" his hot breath hitting your face and his eyes locked into yours, "it makes you look so helpless"

you get closer to his face, now inches apart to make sure the next few sentences really get to him: "i just want you to know that whatever you'll think after this whole thing, i want you to know that you didn't magically pull me in, i'm not helpless neither are you the only person with good dick in this shitplace, you're an avaible option that can be replaced at any given moment, you are a whore that goes around and gets used, no matter how much you hate that fact or not, it's the damn truth, so start being a fucking man and accept it, suck it up" you say something he'd say to you, a taste of his own medicine if you will.

you see it on his face that you've managed to finally get to him, like he's actually taken aback by something for once. your words seemed to cut him deeply and he just stares at you, his breath shaky and his eyes big, wide doed like you've never seen before.

"okay," you take his hands away from your thighs locking them with yours, face still close to his, holding eye contact, "it's okay, it's okay to have sex, it's okay to want to live a free live but you have to communicate that and stop being a prick, stop using girls, stop blowing your ego up and then maybe we could have something" you whisper it as calmly as she can, squeezing his hands every once in a while like you actually want to help him.

he looked onto the both hands locked together till squeezing your hand back, his voice trembling as he tries to remain calm when speaking, "why are you still being so nice to me?"

"you know you do this thing where i look at you and you say something so good, so rational and it happens every once in a while where i think to myself- this is why i can't leave our whole thing alone cause somewhere just somewhere there still is that one valueable dude, it's just-" you sigh, till burrying your head on his shoulder in frustration, "i'm so stupid, i feel like i'll always come back to you, i don't know if that's good"

he almost automatically wraps his arms around your figure and now is the time where you actually do feel helpless in his arms, god- you were so stupid.

he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in, he didn't want to feel this vulnerable around you- it almost hurt to let his emotions show "oh c'mon- don't say that, please" his voice is shaky and his words carry a clear feeling of hurt.

"i always used to say that i don't believe that people can change, it's funny how you try to make excuses and loopholes for your morals when you actually experience something on your own," you straighten up your posture, removing your head from his shoulder, avoiding his eyes while trying to gather your thoughts.

his voice still carries the same shaky emotion as he speaks "why are you avoiding eye contact?" he burries his head against your chest, rubbing against it like trying to make you look at him, softly beginning to lick the skin.

the more he nibbles and licks on your skin, the more little mumbles against the skin are hearable, "i'll make you forgive me" or "i'll make you forget" - it's like a trance.

his tongue getting to your tits, "look at me, please" he pleads like not having your attention on him even for just a few seconds is a crime sentence - at the same time wrapping his lips around one of your hardened nipples, sucking with just as much passion.

he leaves thick traces of saliva on both ones, an occasional muffeled moan slipping out, "could do this forever, i could die happy with one of- mmh" giving both of them his full diverted attention like he had to make sure the other one doesn't feel left out.

when his head comes up from your chest, his eyes are half-lidded, hair is all over the place, a little bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth yet he instantly cups your face kissing you again and again.

everytime he breaks away just shortly to breathe he whispers something into the air then immediately kisses you, swallowing the words like they were dangerous to fly around unanswered.

"wanna do this forever, have you on my tongue over and over again till my tongue goes numb, till i can't taste or feel anymore"

"wanna have you in every position you can think of, wanna fuck you so much your body only remembers me, my shape, my dick- everything, only me"

"wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you"

dangerous words.

dangerous words that feel a bit to real.

it's so evident he has long lost any control over himself, those eyes still so doed like he's begging you to give in, fully drop your boundaries, to give into his fantasies. eyes locking with yours to speak up just once more like he's admitting something, voice more quiet:

"fuck it, i'm already way to selfish with you"

your hands find the zipper of his pants right before opening, pausing to say something yourself, "i'm selfish too, i choose what i want in the moment instead of what would be better for me in the longterm" you pressed your lips onto his almost to shut down your own thoughts, the important ones, the conscious ones that were barerly left till breaking off again, "i don't care, not right now"

you can already feel his hard cock rub against your panties through the jeans material, "i'm so hard it hurts" he looked at you so pleadingly like you were the doctor with the medicine to safe his life, like this was a do or die situation, a tiny cheeky pout on his face, "can you fix me?"

you didn't know if he was talking about himself as a whole or his cock but regardless you took his hands in order for him to stand up so it would be easier to remove his pants and boxers doing it all in one swift motion.

making him sit down onto the coach once again, he whined at the feeling of cold air on his bare skin and you not immediately sitting down onto him, you strip down your pretty ruined panties, his eye not knowing where to look as he played with his lip ring, tilting his head like he's tryna get a better view.

his hands reach out practically on their own, yearning to get his hands onto anything yours, "sit down, ride me" jungkooks tone shaky yet he tried his best to hide that (not rly working) as he added a tiny quiet "please" at the end of it, barerly audible to the average ear.

you couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was behaving like a child (nothing unusual) but the laugh got cut of by a moan as your pussy practically swallowed his length, his hands instantly quite harshly going to your hips, leading you- maybe even guiding.

"fuck yea-" his voice so awfully strained as his both of your hips moved in sync, his fingernails digging into your soft skin, making you groan.

"missed this pussy so much," he moaned out, throwing his head back onto the coach headboard till he weakly added: "so obssesed with you, i've been wanting this tight- mmh, fuck- ever since-"

he couldn't finish his sentence neither did he look like he could form any coherient thoughts, face scrunched up in pleasure, a bit of sweat on his forehead- and you probably didn't look any better yourself.

your walls clenched around him out of sheer response, you were so wrong- this was such bad decision, it would be so hard to let him go after this, it would-

"gonna cum, fuck- i can't"

his pressed out words cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife, the skin slapping noises suddenly feeling louder then they had been before, your own pussy clenching around him once again.

"can't hold it back, i don-"

he was going to leave marks on your hips for sure, you bet he didn't even realize how hard he had been squeezing the poor skin, occasionally moving to your ass.

you moaned yourself, feeling your own orgasm approaching, jungkooks eyes closed, lips parting slightly like he's on the top stage of ecstasy somewhere over the rainbow as you could feel your own walls getting coated with cum.

your body instantly went weak after, lightly collpasing onto his chest as though he seemed unusually tired he wrapped his arms around your back, stroking the skin and bone structure slowly.

it felt so comforting even your eyes closed, you felt so tired- what time was it again?

"fuck- i forgot the condom" his fingers paused, the shook in his voice audible.

"i'm on the pill, we're good" you closed your eyes again, now the clear goal was to fall asleep.

yet y'know how it was with your plans and jungkook- he cut through them as he lied still for a few minutes till whispering, "i don't hate you by the way" his fingers now again continuing the gentle act on your back even slower then before like a quit lullaby, "not even one bit"

"i know"

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #bts #bts ffs #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #jeon jungkook

1K notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 2 months

Text

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do.

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me.

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with.

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

1K notes · View notes