#steve is scene n snot is punk

[supervettesixpack]

* american dad if it was awesome

[lady-thor-foster]

Run To You // Sam x Reader P5

Pairing: Sam Wilson x POC Reader, Bucky Barnes x POC Reader Word Count: 2k+ Warning: HERE’S THAT SMUT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR (it’s really brief tho, lmao sorry), fluff, language, angst, FEELINGS, there’s also a brief amount of violence but it’s just Natasha being the overprotective friend she is.

Summary: Things on the Compound escalate. A very angry Natasha and Steve make their disapproval known. Sam finally confesses.

A/N: HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE EVER WRITTEN MORE THAN 10K WORDS. I AM S H O O K. Thank you thank you thank you everyone for your kind words. I never could have dreamed this would be received so well. Oh and i actually managed to not go completely over 2k lmao. 

Inspiration: “Was it something I didn’t say” ~ 98º

“I took for granted that you knew, yeah Oh love, the love I had for you, yeah I guess you never had a clue ‘Til it was too late, you walked away … All the words were in my heart Oh, they went unspoken Baby, now my silent heart is a heart that’s broken…”

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There were very few times in Sam’s life where he really and truly cried. Seeing the love of his life in the arms of the man he just barely trusted was definitely one of those times.

Stumbling back to his room, he couldn’t feel anything beyond numbness. There was a gaping hole in his chest where his love for you lived. Everything exploded inside him once he closed his bedroom door behind him. His bedroom that still smelled like you. His bedroom that still had your things in it. His bedroom that used to be yours too.

Spending another night alone Wondering when I’m gonna ever see you again Thinking what I would give to get you back, baby

A lump formed painfully in his throat. Tears stung his eyes and he collapsed to the floor, head in his hands. Soul-wrenching grief weighed heavily on his shoulder. He couldn’t even be angry at you because he was the one who pushed you into Bucky’s arms. Another flash of you and Bucky invaded his mind. An anguished scream ripped itself from Sam’s throat as he pounded the floor. It was a damn good thing that Tony had this room sound proofed from your nightmare days. Sam wasn’t sure what hurt worse: the fact that Bucky was the one to win your heart or that you didn’t seem to love him that way at all.

I should have told you how I felt then Instead I kept it to myself, yeah I let my love go unexpressed 'Til it was too late, you walked away

Sam couldn’t find any energy to pick himself up off the floor. The cold tile soothed his heated skin. His sweatshirt was drenched with tears and snot; his body ached from the discomfort of the floor. His fists were beaten bloody and raw. None of this compared to the agony that made its home in his heart.

Was it something I didn’t say When I didn’t say, “I love you” Was it words that you never heard All those words I should have told you All those times, all those nights when I had the chance to

Sam’s fucked up and masochistic mind kept replaying the scene of Bucky’s hands getting lost under your shirt, Bucky’s lips on yours, Bucky kissing you the way you deserved. His ears echoed with the sounds you made for Bucky. It was a hell made personally for him. Exhaustion eventually took over as Sam cried himself to sleep. He was too little too late.

Bucky couldn’t believe that he finally your lips on his, your hands in his hair, your body beneath him. He couldn’t believe he had you in his bed. It was a dream, it had to be.

Your breathless moans filled his ears; a symphony of ecstasy. Your skin was so soft in his hands, so supple, so silken. He felt your nails dig into his back as he thrust deeper into you, panting heavily. God, you felt so good around him. The coolness of your breath tickled his ear as you held him as close as you could. He could feel himself teetering on the edge of bliss but he fought against it to prolong your pleasure.

“Come on, doll,” he urged. He heard your whimpering response; you sounded so fucking beautiful to him. He could feel you clenching fiercely, squeezing him, teasing him. It was getting harder to hold back. He kissed your lips, swallowing your delicious noises of pleasure. Feeling your heated skin under his fingertips, he teased your nipples mercilessly in urgency. Bucky felt you clamp down and he let out a strangled cry. So close, he was so clo—

“Bucky! Wake up!!” Steve shouted. Bucky jerked upright from the bed, immediately encasing Steve’s neck in a vice grip with his vibranium hand. Once Bucky’s eyes focused on his target, he recoiled in shame.

“Shit! Steve! I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry!” Steve coughed briefly and rubbed his neck. Shaking his head he waved Bucky’s apologies away.

“S’okay pal. I should have known better than to wake you up like that. You were having some kind of weird dream. I was worried.”

A different kind of shame went through Bucky. He wasn’t sure how Steve would react when he found out Bucky kissed you last night.

“…Buck?”

“Yeah punk?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, punk. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Why’d you wake me up anyway? We don’t have training today.”

“Sam and I are supposed to go hiking today. I wanted to see if you’d tag along.”

“Yeah…uh…I don’t think it’s the best idea, pal.”

“Why not?” Steve cocked his head to the side, his disappointment eyebrow already poised.

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea for me and Sam to be alone in a secluded place right now.”

Steve sighed heavily, “Bucky it’s fine. Sam trusts you now.”

“I guarantee he won’t when he finds out I kissed [Y/N] last night.”

“You did what?!”

Bucky flinched at Steve’s sudden shout. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve took a few deep breaths to calm down. He swore one of these days James Buchanan Barnes might just be the death of him. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair anxiously; surprisingly, this was actually going better than he could have hoped.

“Why?” Steve asked simply.

“What do you mean why? I like her; she made it clear she liked me too. She’s the one who initiated it.”

“That’s not the point, Buck. You of all people know how fragile she is. You can’t take just advantage of her like this.”

“‘Take advantage of her’? What the hell, Steve?! Is that what you think I’m doing? You of all people should know I’m not the same man I was when we were younger.”

“You’re right. That was low and I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I just- I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t hurt her,” Bucky stated. Steve quirked his eyebrow at this; Bucky wasn’t a bad guy, he really wasn’t. Steve loved him more than a brother but he couldn’t see a relationship between the two of you working out without someone ending up with a broken heart.

“What about Sam?”

“What about Sam?”

“You know how he feels about her. You said it yourself: he’s not going to react well when he finds out the two of you are together.”

“I love her, Steve!” Bucky shouted red-faced and breathless.

“Do you, Buck? Do you even know her?” Steve asked sadly.

“Of course I do!”

“Really?” What’s her favorite movie? What’s the one thing she craves to eat at 3 am? What are her goals? Do you even know her middle name?” Bucky stared at his best friend dumbfounded. He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions.

“Face it, Bucky. You don’t love her. You love how she makes you feel.” Steve shook his head at his idiot of a best friend and walked away. Bucky had always been a little selfish when it came to women but Steve never could have anticipated him going this far.

Natasha knew the moment she opened her eyes, today was going to be a shitstorm. She didn’t know how she knew but every single hair on her body stood on edge. Something told her James Buchanan Barnes was at the center of it all.

She’d always been the suspicious type, even before the Red Room, so when she found you in the library gleefully whistling, she knew.

“What’s got you so perky today, [Y/N]?”

“Oh…nothing,” you said coyly, “Just a good day is all.” Natasha rolled her eyes at this.

“Spill it,” she all but ordered.

“Come on, Tash. There’s nothing to tell!”

“I don’t have to be a super spy to know that you’re hiding something, babe.”

“Who’s hiding something?” came a chipper Sokovian accent.

“[Y/N],” Natasha said without missing a beat, “she thinks I can’t tell when she’s hiding something.”

“Is this about Bucky kissing her last night?”

“Wanda!” you scolded, “You promised you wouldn’t read my mind!” Wanda held her hands up defensively, shaking her head.

“I swear I didn’t! I went to get some water from the kitchen last night when I caught the two of you going at it on the counter.” You groaned in embarrassment. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Natasha was quietly seething in rage.

“Oh god, I thought everyone was asleep!” Wanda snorted at you.

“So…” Wanda nudged your arm suggestively, “did anything else happen?”

You grinned sheepishly, “No, but I wouldn’t have complained if it did. He was really sweet about respecting my boundaries. Hey…where’d Tasha go?” Both you and Wanda were surprised to find the spy had disappeared during your conversation. This was completely unlike her; Natasha never passed up good gossip.

“I’m sure she’ll be back,” Wanda soothed, patting your arm gently. “So, tell me everything! How did it happen? Who kissed who? Was he a good kisser??”

You and Wanda descended into a fit of giggles as you filled her in on the joys of kissing Bucky Barnes. 

Bucky should have known Natasha would make good on her threat once she found out he didn’t do what she told him. He couldn’t have known she’d hunt him down to a briefing with Tony, Steve, and Bruce just to make good on it. No one was more surprised than he was when she suddenly burst into the conference room, grabbed him by the collar and sucker-punched him in the face. It was this exact moment that an emotionally and physically exhausted Sam Wilson decided to finally join the meeting he was already forty-five minutes late for.

“Oh shit!”

“Romanoff, what the hell?!”

“Christ, Nat!”

The room exploded into chaos as Steve and Bruce rushed over to keep Natasha from quite literally beating some sense into Bucky. Bucky didn’t say anything. Blood gushed from his nose while Natasha fiercely struggled against Steve’s grip in an attempt to hit him again.

“That’s enough!” Steve shouted. Natasha finally stopped fighting but her furious gaze never left Bucky’s face. Steve shared her feelings.

“Does someone want to explain to me just what the hell is going on here?” asked Tony.

“Why don’t you ask Barnes?” she seethed.

Looking from one angry Russian to the other, Tony sighed in resignation. “Barnes, care to enlighten me?”

“Not really,” he mumbled.

“Well somebody is going to explain why she’s going around sucker punching people in the middle of mission briefings.”

“Does this have anything to do with what you told me earlier, Buck?” Steve asked. His disappointment eyebrows were on in full force. Bucky nodded, trying his best to disappear into the seat. Steve sighed heavily and ran his hand over his face. Does the serum protect against heart attacks because he was pretty sure his stress level might bring one on.

“Is somebody going to fill me in?” Tony questioned. Agitation shone clearly on his face.

“Barnes here couldn’t keep it in his fucking pants. He made a move on [Y/N], last night,” she answered.

“What [Y/N]? …Sam’s [Y/N]? The girl he’s been in love with for years? That [Y/N]?” Natasha nodded, rolling her eyes at Tony.

“You know what, Nat? Hit him again, clearly, his common sense missed the mark the first time around.”

“I didn’t know he was in love with her until yesterday!” Bucky cried.

“Bullshit,” Sam snarled. Everyone whirled around to see him standing in the doorway, visibly shaking in anger.

“…Sam, I—I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know.”

“Tell it to someone who cares Barnes. I should have known better than to trust you.” Sam forced himself to turn around and leave the conference room. It was too tempting to follow Natasha’s lead. He got the shock of his life to see you and Wanda standing behind him with identical stunned expressions.

“….You’re in love with me?”

Oh…shit.

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[buckyismyaesthetic]

Punk (Chap. 6)

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 1842

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback!  It honestly makes me so insanely happy and I love hearing your theories, outrages, and feelings! <3

He looked up.  Had he heard you gasp his name?  Of course.  Fucking supersoldier…  Bucky’s eyes found yours across the club.  Time seemed to slow down in that moment.  What the fuck is are you doing here?!

“Y/N?”  

You blinked and broke your gaze with Bucky. Steve and Sam were standing next to you with huge, friendly grins on their faces.  “Hey, guys,” you said slightly breathlessly.  “What—uh—what’re you guys doin’ here?”  

“My buddy texted me,” Sam said nodding to someone over your shoulder.  “Said there were some beautiful ladies here tonight and man was he right!  Woo!”  He gave you a big grin and grabbed your hands pulling you too him.  “Look at you, girl!”

Thankfully it was dark and he couldn’t see your cheeks turn fire engine red.  “Sam,” you mumbled.  “Stop.”

Sam pulled you into a hug.  “You look gorgeous.  Save me a dance for later?”  He winked at you.

“No,” you grumbled.   He’s just saying that ‘cause he’s my friend.  

He placed a hand over his heart and recoiled as if you’d stabbed him.  “Shot down! Man, you believe this?” he asked Steve.

“Well, you did ask the most beautiful girl here to dance.  Set yourself up for failure,” Steve joked.  He clapped Sam on the back and flashed you a smile. Getting a compliment from Captain America would make any girl melt, but, again.  You couldn’t help but think that they were just sayin’ those things.  Or worse, making fun.  

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at their feet. You waited for them to scarper off to find drinks and Sam’s army pal before fleeing towards the bathroom.

Amidst the girls complaining about ‘breaking the seal’, trying to drunkenly fix their makeup in the filmy bathroom mirror, and sharing scraps of toilet paper under stalls to help each other out, you eventually managed to secure a place by the mirror.  Just a minute to collect yourself, calm your breathing, and try to force your heart from jack hammering its way out of your chest.  This is NOT according to plan.  He’s snot supposed to be here!  This is supposed to be practice!  A trial run! Ok ok ok breathe, just breathe.  Slowly and deliberately you sucked in some deep breaths and let them out with a soft ‘woo-sa’.  Somebody snickered causing your eyes to pop open.  Oops.  Not alone here….

Grimacing at your reflection momentarily, you smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles on your dress and picked off non-existent lint balls, flicking them carelessly onto the tile floor to bide time and play it cool. It was bad enough that nerves had you overheating before you’d even walked into the club, but seeing Bucky sent you into unsafe temperature territory before you could venture out back amongst the masses.  The fact that you had talked yourself out of sticking some deodorant in your clutch before leaving the tower didn’t help.  Stupid Natasha had talked you out of it:

‘What could you possibly need that for, Y/N?’

‘An emergency, Natasha.’

‘There won’t be any emergencies!’

Oh, if only she were standing here right now!  THIS! This is an emergency!  My armpits are leaking like Niagara Falls!  I’m melting!  Just thinking about it seemed to make it worse making you wonder if this ever happened to anyone else or if it was only you who had to suffer publicly from the more unsightly bodily functions.  Perhaps you had done something in a past life, slighted some deity, and being a walking embarrassment was your punishment.

Bzzzz.  Every girl in the bathroom reached into their clutches for their phones, but, oddly it was yours that had rung.  Weird…everyone I know who’d text me is here….

Did you ditch us? Nat’s message popped across the screen.

You blew out a sigh before wrenching the ladies room door open, amplifying the club’s music tenfold in the process, and scribbling out a response.  Peeing.

With your eyes looking down at your phone you failed to notice a mass of muscle appear in front of you as you made your way across the dance floor until you nearly collided into it.  Two large hands gripped your arms to halt your movements and you looked up only to find yourself face to face with the epitome of human perfection.  “B-Buck, hi,” you stammered.

“Hey, Punk.”  Ughhhhhh.  You physically felt yourself deflate this time.  Even dressed like this he called you that. It was infuriating…and disheartening to say the least.  Bucky released his hold on you and, unconsciously, you crossed your arms over your torso, attempting to hide from his gaze.  He stepped back and looked you up and down quickly; his brow furrowed minutely but you caught it.  You noticed everything he did.

Panic immediately coursed through your veins.  What was that look for?  One of your hands wound its way up to your mouth and you began to gnaw nervously at the skin around your fingertips.  It was a nervous habit, and gave you something to do with your hands rather just let them hang awkwardly as you stared stupidly at Bucky.

“You, uh, look, dif—what’s, um, what’s with the getup?”  Bucky asked with a raised brow motioning with his hand to your attire.

And just like that your world imploded like a dying star.  He didn’t like it.  All of this effort, and he didn’t like it.   Putting yourself out there to try and be just like a regular, normal girl.  And he was still repulsed.   You’re first round up at bat and you’d fouled out.  No, you hadn’t even taken the first pitch!  No, no no…you hadn’t even managed to make it up to bat!  This night was your venture into the minor leagues and a major leaguer, the MVP, the All-Star James Buchanan Barnes had stepped up to the mound and struck you out with just one pitch.  He didn’t even give you a shot.  No three strikes for you.  You were one and done.  The fastest out in the history of the dating game.  

It was as if those words had punched the life out of you like a blow to the stomach and you wondered if he heard the broken gasp that escaped your lips.  You tried to clear your throat to reply but it was bone dry and felt like sandpaper; what could you possibly even say to that?  

The flight-or-flight instinct roared its ugly head and you had to resist the urge to flee the scene.  The moment between you two seemed to stretch for an eternity but probably only lasted milliseconds, but it was a millisecond too long; that was all that was needed for the humiliation to seep through every pore and latch onto every nerve and bring your walls crumbling down.  

Suddenly, you felt as if someone was shining a spotlight in your face and all of the background noise in the room dulled.  No longer could you hear the deep bass, the loud laughter, unintelligible conversations.  But you could feel it; all eyes were on you and Bucky and they didn’t like what they saw.  

And, as the scene around you seemingly morphed into something from a long forgotten nightmare, you were reminded why you didn’t like these types of places.  Dressed like this.  You shouldn’t be dressed like this.  All these girls here, looking at you, judging you.  You could see it in how they eyed you up and down, throwing you snarky glances, hands covering their mouth as they whispered to their neighbour as the ugly duckling tried to land herself a handsome prince.  

The once happy, drunk smiles of the dancing women twisted into white-fanged snarls.  They were no longer beautiful partiers but a pack of wolves instead.  You were an outsider, an intruder, and you were not welcome in their territory.  And you certainly should not be speaking with one of their own.  ‘He’s not meant for you’.  

And the guys…what were you thinking?  Guys didn’t want to see you dressed like this. Only pretty girls should wear pretty dresses.  They didn’t want to see this.   It felt as if every patron was silently screaming for you to get out and go back to where you belong because it sure as hell wasn’t here, wasn’t with him.  You could feel the glare; the heat from it burned your skin like a laser.  And it was too hot and you couldn’t breathe.  The skin on your back ached with each sharp breath and tremors were threatening to tear you apart.  You’re too exposed. It’s not safe.

You bit your finger harshly and proceeded to pull at the skin on the edges.  Looking around, taking it all in; ugh, all of these beautiful people belonged and you stood out for all of the wrong reasons.  You shouldn’t be here.  Teeth worried at your bottom lip and you could feel your eyes tremble as you held back the tears.  

You wouldn’t cry here.  

Not at the club.  

Not in front of them.

Not in front of him.

You have to leave. You had to get out of there. It was too hot, you were too hot.

Mustering up the fakest smile you could, you glance up at Bucky, avoiding looking him in the eye, mumble something you weren’t even conscious of, perhaps asking him if he wanted something from the bar, and without listening to his response, your heels were carrying you away faster than you could’ve imagined.

As you glided across the floor weaving in and out of the rollicking bodies, you begged the hot, salty tears to just stay where they were for just a few minutes more.  Don’t cry.  Do not cry.  Just hold it in.  The heat around you is unbearable, almost suffocating.  It felt as if the walls were closing in on all sides, but the exit was within sight, flanked by beefy bouncers on each side. Twenty feet, almost there… Ten feet.

“Hey, hold up!”  An arm reaches out to grab your elbow and you spin around and break the hold.  Ethan, the guy from earlier.  “Whoa! Sorry.  Sorry. I just, uh, are you okay?”  His face contorts in genuine concern and that’s when you break. Ethan, a guy you’ve known for less than an hour cares more about your feelings than your best friend!

You gulped back a sob but couldn’t hide the tears glistening in your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes.  With a sad shake of your head, you watch Ethan throw back the rest of his drink.  He excuses himself to close his tab, handing you a small napkin so that you can dab at your face.  Then, offering his arm, he leads you to the exit.

Someone calls your name and you turn to peak over your shoulder:  Nat. She gave you a look that begged ‘where are you going?’ but from this distance she couldn’t see your tears.  So you forced a tight-lipped smile and tossed her a little fluttering wave before disappearing with the stranger out into the night.

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