#i like when theres an odd little guy who softens him up. lmao

[ardentpoop]

oh btw dean/garth and dean/aaron and dean/ronald nightshifter supremacy

[buckymcbuttfacebarnes]

Yearn

pairing: bucky x reader (greek mythology au)

word count: about 2k

summary: bucky yearns for y/n!

warnings: bucky gets into a fight!! theres fluff and angst

a/n: y’all i really like this one, i hope y’all do too! it’s pretty vague in terms of the greek mythology stuff, so you literally dont need to know anything abt mythology to understand lmao, just know that when i say ‘the gods’ those r who im talkin about!!!!!! anyways love feedback, pls let me know what yall think!

He landed on his back with a heavy thud, the wind knocked from his chest. Two lungs immediately began to expand as he gasped to regain the air that had been lost. There was a reverberating pain sourced at his left temple, the spot where the last punch had connected. Dark blotches scarred his vision, he tried to blink them away.

Bucky?

It was her voice. Light as a feather, pleasant and sweet like honey. He’d know it anywhere. Was that her perfume he smelled? It was just a whiff of that familiar scent. Clean like lemon, sweet like lavender. He sat up to find her, barely bending at the waist before falling onto his back with heavy exhalation of breath. A sharp bolt of pain stabbed him in his head, behind his eyes, that punch had been no joke. His vision blackened into nothing.

He woke to the sound of Steve’s voice. He could hear his anger even though his words were hushed. It was morning now, or perhaps afternoon, Bucky didn’t know. He was lying on Steve’s couch. Vague memories of Steve bringing him in last night faded into his mind’s eye, but they were foggy. The only clear thing he could remember was her...the sound of her voice. She was there. She had to be. In a clumsy rush of urgency, Bucky stood from his position on the couch, pausing for the briefest moment to recover from the sudden lightheadedness before he made his move to the kitchen, the source of the hushed voices. He didn’t even notice the ache within his bones.

“Where is she?” Bucky winced when his voice came out a snarl, harsher than he’d meant it to be.

A silence settled within the kitchen as Steve and Sam turned to meet his flickering gaze. “Where is who, Buck?” Steve did not try to hide his exasperation. It was on his face, it was in the way he lifted and dropped his arms to his side helplessly. “Where is who?” he asked again, anger marring his handsome features.

“You know who,” Bucky croaked. His voice was small, he seemed no longer a man, but a boy. He was lost.

“She’s not here. Bucky.” It was Sam who said this, his voice more sympathetic than Steve’s. This was a first.

The long haired man had not realized that his breathing had grown ragged, his heart pounding loudly in his ears, a deafening sound. He leaned against the island that separated him from Steve and Sam, looking from one to the other. His brows furrowed with confusion, his lips parted as he scrambled for words. “She was there,” he claimed. “Last night, I heard—I smelled her! She was there…”

His words seemed to fall upon deaf ears. Steve’s face was hardened into a damning look of what could only be described as contempt. Sam had a sympathetic look on his face, but his eyes shone with pity.

“You must have seen her Steve! She couldn’t have left, she wouldn’t have left me after she saw what happened,” his voice was threaded with desperation.

Steve could only shake his head, expression softening. He too pitied Bucky. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, Buck. Look at yourself.” He gestured to the broken man before him, a heavy breath falling from his lips. “This isn’t the way to...you can’t get over her like this.”

“It’s already been six months.”

Had it really been six whole months since she had gone away? Six months since the gods had cruelly snatched her away from him? Half a year had passed by in an instant, which was odd because every day spent without her had been agonizingly long. Each morning he woke up with his heart lifted with a sense of hope, each night he found himself falling into a disappointed and angry slumber.

“Buck?” Steve interrupted his reverie, looking to him expectantly. “Promise? No more fighting, you’re gonna wind up messing with the wrong guy and you know, who knows what’ll ha—”

“You’ll get really fucked up,” concluded Sam, folding his large arms over his chest. “No more.”

And though he heard them, his friends, trying to save him from his own self-destructive tendencies, the words meant nothing—he could barely comprehend them. His mind had wandered to a faraway place. A place where Y/N was, a place where he would find her. He agreed to stop his fighting to appease them. Nodding his head and meeting their eyes with an earnest look on his face. He had gone three weeks before he reverted back to his instigative mannerisms, looking to feel anything different from the pain of missing her.

Things went on this way for months more until one spring afternoon when he’d discovered Y/N asleep in his bed.

It was four in the afternoon. For the first time in months, Bucky felt a twinge of happiness. It was warm out, warm enough that he could keep his windows open allowing a gentle breeze to flutter at his curtains. The sun shone brightly, it’s golden rays bathing his furniture in a bronze light. Y/N would have loved it. He can imagine her, lounging on their couch, head propped up on her hand as she flipped lazily through the pages of a book. She loved to read. The sun would warm her skin, she would sigh happily. He’d ask her to read out loud, just to hear her honeyed voice.

He left his brown grocery bags untouched on the counter, retreating into the hallway to use the restroom. He turned the corner, surprised to find his bedroom door lying wide open. He typically closed it. Stealthily he made his way to his room, he was not afraid. Nothing seemed to scare him anymore.

Light shone through the blinds of his bedroom window, covering his room in horizontal stripes of golden light. Everything appeared normal. Except his bed. Beneath his white duvet lay a girl. He could see pieces of her hair against his pillow. He blinked. Once, twice, even considered pinching himself. He found that since Y/N left, sometimes he saw her. He wished he did. He approached her now, the duvet was pulled up and over her face. His breath hitched in his throat, suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breath. His heart began to thump a little louder. Twitching fingers grasped the duvet, tentatively peeling back the fluffy fabric.

He felt like he was in a dream.

He was not.

Crouching down to the ground, he looked at her up close. He reached out to touch her, to move the hair from her face, but decided against it, fearing that he might reach out and find once more that she was merely a figment of his wild imagination. A stripe of light lay across her forehead, just above her closed eyes, and near her lips, slightly parted. He could hear her gentle breaths.

He fell asleep by her side that night, his head resting on his folded arms...he was only a few measly inches from her. It was all he wanted. To be close to her again.

He awoke to her singing, refreshing like the sound of gentle waves upon rocks. The room was dark now. Golden light was replaced with a silvery glow. She had opened the blinds fully now, standing at the opened window. A breeze tickled his cheeks, he turned to see her.

“You’ve missed me.” She did not turn around.

Bucky could not speak, he was too stricken by surprise. By happiness.

“I’ve missed you more,” continued Y/N. She was doing her best to subdue the knot of anguish that was rising in her throat. It was difficult to keep her voice from breaking.  “I can’t stay.”

“Can you tell me where you’ve been? Where did they take you?”

“She can’t know I’m here, she’ll have you killed.” Finally she faced him, eyes large. Panicked.

Bucky rose to his feet with surprising swiftness, pulling her into a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. Lemon and lavender. “I love you.”

She said it back without hesitation, her arms wound tight around him, head pressed against his chest. He was warm and familiar. She had missed him. “She may be watching,” she whispered fearfully.

The gods, he thought, would not keep him away from her. He would not let her slip away this time. “Let her watch.”

He kissed her then, almost timidly, on her mouth. Their lips fit together as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle. They moved seamlessly together, hands roaming, lips ravishing. For the first time in nearly two years they had found each other again. The gentle touches of cool fingertips along hot skin, heaving breaths, and sloppy kisses. It felt so natural, unchoreographed and harmonious. It was everything. She was everything.

Naked bodies lay side by side beneath the duvet, hands clutching one another tightly, lovingly.

“Your hair has gotten long,” she commented softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.”

He was too caught up in her return to even notice if there had been a change in her appearance. Her hair had grown, but aside from that she looked the same. She had a nearly ethereal glow to her now. It was stunning, she had always been stunning.

“Sometimes I would speak to you...I always hoped you might hear me. I would watch the things that you did when I was gone,” she suddenly murmured, gazing up at the ceiling. “Why would you put yourself through that, James?”

“I heard you.”

He could hear her breath hitch in her throat. He didn’t see the tears that glistened in her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” he answered decidedly. “Those things were nothing compared to you being gone.”

“Going around picking fights couldn’t bring me back.”

“They were a distraction, doll. They let me know I could feel something...different.”

“Different,” she repeated softly.

“Different from the feeling of missing you, I guess. You had been taken from me, I wanted you back. The worst part was knowing that you were out there somewhere, but I couldn’t find you...I didn’t know how,” he spoke slowly, as if calculating his words to make sure he said exactly what he meant.

“I’m here now.”

Bucky pulled her close to him now, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head. “You’re here now.”

She had fallen silent, her face pressed against his chest, head to his heart. He assumed she was sleeping until she spoke up again, “I can’t stay.”

He could not beg her. Nothing could stop the gods from seizing her once more. So he simply nodded. “I know.”

She wept then, violent sobs racking her entire body. He held her in his comforting embrace, he knew there was little he could say to console her. He let her cry and cry, he bit back his own sobs. “I love you,” he whispered to her over and over, “until the end of time.” It was a long while before her sobs began to subside and she grew quiet, her breath still shuddered from the violence of her cries. He kissed her closed eyelids, before he kissed the rest of her salty tears away. She had met his lips in an open mouthed kiss, she seemed to breathe life into him. He climbed atop her now, he wanted to feel her one more time, every part of her. His lips marked nearly every spot on the plane of her body. He committed it to memory...he was unsure of the next time he might see it. Experience it. In an unspoken agreement they moved slowly, wanting to experience every last moment of one another. Skin against skin, open mouthed kisses, heavy inhales and exhales of breath.

They went unto the early hours of the morning. They fell asleep with limbs entangled, bodies intertwined.

When Bucky woke she was gone again.