#black America responds to therapist

[the-demure-abstract]

Black America responds to therapist;

Hmmm...

#black America responds to therapist #emotional intelligence #black men #black woman #mental health for black men #mental health #black people #white twitter #black twitter #race and politics #black women #black tumblr

[truths89]

Cosmic Comics

Life feels like a back-to-back set of impromptu acting. I know it’s not mandatory, but my higher self and her counterparts are fond of jest.

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

That time when your Chilean friend of four years, an NYU Medical Graduate and geriatrician, while on a cross-country trip to visit her, as you’re eating at a diner, asks how you wash your hair. For context, you were sporting a Mohawk with 3-4 inches of free-form locks, and shaved from below the ears. Both of you are above the age of 33, and neither of you has any diagnosis of autism or meets any other intellectual divergence criterion.

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

As expected of the medical model, you meet with your psychiatric nurse practitioner, who, amid welcomed chatter, decries the self-defense of Hamas amidst the 75-year snail crawl of a genocide besieged by Israel and funded by the United States of America. This Black 60-year-old woman feels very confident about her assessment of the matter. With the calm you speak to a child who seems not to know their place in the world, you ask her if the year were 1831 and Nat Turner orchestrated a slave revolt, would she object to such an act of self-preservation? With an uncanny swiftness, she assertively responds, ‘Not at all.’

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

You invite your supposed best friend into your home with her fiancé, both of whom are white, and this friend’s fiancé shares that your believed-to-be best friend is inclined to speedy driving. This friend scoffs at the insinuation as her fiancé attributes her minimization to her father, a deceased police officer, which enables her to fancy her way out of driving tickets. 

In my very modest and quaint studio apartment, I am suddenly the guest to their derision of police violence that viscerally attacks my Black body’s peace in my sanctuary; while observing these fellow queer women who are both master’s degree holders and my supposed best friend, an LCSW Therapist, neither exhibited concern or awareness of the impact of their behavior. 

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

The nature of time is divine, and after being prescribed Adderal by a physician at Smith College in the Fall of 2008, I began to experience what clinicians refer to as mania. As such, I was processing large quantities of data and making abstract connections with a labile mood and a lack of appetite. The H1N1 Virus jumped from Mexico to Springfield in about 36 hours. As evidenced by people’s fear surrounding COVID-19, I responded accordingly to the H1N1 virus. Reluctantly, I took a year off from Smith College and briefly crashed at a fellow Smithie’s place in the summer of 2009. While there, I experienced a pronounced bedlam stench from the visible accumulation of cat feces in one of the three bathrooms in this fantastically located double apartment in Greenwich Village. 

Led by destiny, I explored Worldwide Opportunities for Organic Farming. I took a one-way ticket to Argentina, where I stayed for about three months to decompress from beholding the opaque imperial bars that outlined every crevice of my memory. As anticipated, I returned to Smith College, where I had a seven-credit shortage, and successfully graduated in May of 2011. Ironically, this fellow Smithie, a fellow richly melanated Black woman of size who appeared to have inherited a trust fund from her late adoptive parents, who told me that folks believed I had lost my mind, did not complete her degree at Smith College and dove her whole body’s life purpose into sex work. Sanity is indeed relative and context-based.

♾️♾️♾️♾️

In the five years that I worked with my Black Woman Psychologist, I cherished her because she achieved a privileged childhood, a foundation to secure stability and wealth as an adult, and enjoyed daily physical contact with her parents and siblings and her own family well into her 40s, which, to me, was unfathomable. 

However, throughout that half-decade of a therapeutic dynamic, I was often dismayed and livid by her challenged emotional intelligence and penchant for insular analysis. I recall her saying, after divulging my very complex relationships with gender, class, race, and other intersectional identities, that I should pursue biracial women for romance. This same woman, whom I initially presumed to be biracial upon meeting in the Winter of 2019, as she was fair-skinned and her phenotype suggested other possibilities than Black American, reduced the opulence of my complex identity into a matter suitable for a stereotypical trope. 

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Because God loves a show, in 2022, you invite your Waspy friend to attend Afro-Punk with you. In preparation for the festival, she inquires if wearing kente cloth would be appropriate. Flabbergasted by the consideration, you immediately say, ‘You can wear whatever you want to, but I will not be able to accompany you in such a garment.’ 

Upon arriving at the event, I am elated by the demise of the Genocidal reign of Queen Elizabeth. I share brief remarks from my social media viewings to this Waspy friend, who, with a straight face, says that critique of this dead colonialist is “controversial.” For this friend, Queen Elizabeth was a trailblazer for women’s rights. This Waspy friend who, in the winter of the same year, while driving back from her Aunt’s home in Vermont, stated that racialized stratification of resources, which necessitates racism, is essentially up for grabs to whoever has the best hand, and if Black people could be the benefactors of white supremacy, it would be so. This ex-friend, who has a master’s degree from Columbia University, is in her second year of law school. 

♾️♾️

About three years later, I still cannot comprehend how intimate a friendship I had with a divorced mother of two, who realized that her orthodox religion was a cult. During this one-year romantic friendship, I learned that she vehemently hated Palestinians and was adamant that their lives bore no inherent value. This woman earned her master’s in social work from Hunter College, a Licensed Clinical Social Worker in private practice who works solely with Medicaid clients. 

♾️

The delayed whiplash crescendos as waves reverberate in my psyche. The irony of these interactions and fragile relationships could easily trigger lunacy, if for no other reason but being a repository for the world’s bouts with schizoid disassociation. With the universe, I have been disputing that these experiences are not entertaining but profoundly remedial and intensely demoralizing. 

Although I cannot speak to the nature of teaching in these Ivory Towers and their doctoral programs, I most certainly can speak to what could be unlearned.

[newlyarkhampsych]

Gotham’s ABA: neglect in action

Oh this is going to be a fun list. As my blog has a lot of odd ones I decided to balance it out with a serious and very personal one! ABA Therapy has long been a high controversial practice. Taking a lot of outdated views on autism spectrum disorder (ASD) it’s former name known as Aspergers. As it has very limited evidence suggests that it is helpful for those non verbal.  Plus with mixed reviews from autistic people, you may find it hard to believe ABA is helpful. “A study of autistic respondents showed that over 52% disagreed with the current practices of ABA therapy. Only 5% of respondents who were autistic said that ABA therapy was good and that they supported the practices. Many autistic individuals, instead of seeking indistinguishability, are more interested in promoting neurodiversity. “ (1)

There has also been a rise with PTSD in autistic children due to the build support of ABA therapy.

“One study showed that participants in ABA therapy were 86% more likely to develop PTSD. Though therapists may argue that they would never intentionally harm children, the ultimate push for someone to go against their very nature is damaging (Kupferstein, 2018). “ (1) Autistic children have been found in studies to be more prone to PTSD. Here as some results from a study:

(2) Sources: https://cardinalscholar.bsu.edu/bitstream/handle/123456789/202261/HungateC_2020-2_BODY.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y (1) https://oti.org.il/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/ofer-golan-autism-post-traumatic-stress.pdf (2) Some of this will be from a personal account so please bare with me. TW: for mentions of SA

1. They misused the “quiet room” for punishment. 2.The entire place is unsanitary and they barely clean it. 3. They punished even the most harmless of self soothing. 4. Kids were physically harm from the staff. 5. Kids are insulted and treated lesser by staff. 7. They have a black mold problem on the left corner of the “quiet room” and on the carpet on the corner of the playroom. 8. Kids had things broken from staff. 9. A staff member cut a kids hair as a punishment. Took a legal suit to get them kicked out due to loosing their license. (Yeah, fuck you in particular Mrs.  Sullivan. I hope your kids turned out ok.) 10.They took food away as a punishment. 11. Some forced religious practices. 12.They have allegations of S/A under their belt. 13. A staff member cut a comfort toy of mine up. (I picked up sewing and fixed the scraps.) 14. Staff members will throw slurs around like nothing. 15. Some world puff smoke in the building. 16. I swear they loved triggering meltdowns and would laugh about it. 17. They really abused the nonverbal kids because they knew they could get away with it. 18. Xenophobic, they would focus abuse on children that came to America for better treatment. 19. Sleep deprivation was a punishment. 20: refused to let kids use the bathroom as a punishment. 21. Would take away comfort items as a punishment.  

#only in gotham #onlyingotham #only in gotham rp #dc rp #dc roleplay #dc rp open #gothamite #gothmite

[dnaamericaapp]

Trial To Begin In Death Of Elijah McClain, Who Was Injected With Ketamine While In A Police Chokehold

The trial of two men charged in the death of Elijah McClain, a Black man who was placed in a chokehold by police in Aurora, Colorado, and injected with a powerful sedative, is expected to begin this week.

The joint trial is the first of three scheduled this year involving the 23-year-old massage therapist's encounter with police and first responders on the night of Aug. 24, 2019, after he bought iced tea from a corner store.

McClain's death prompted months of protests demanding justice and police reform that were a precursor to national demonstrations held the following year in response to the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis.

The Colorado attorney general's office has charged two police officers, a former officer and two paramedics in the Denver suburb of Aurora with one count each of manslaughter and criminally negligent homicide, as well as other charges contained in a 32-count indictment handed down by a grand jury in 2021.

They have all pleaded not guilty.

Opening arguments in the trial of Aurora Police Officer Randy Roedema and a former officer, Jason Rosenblatt, are set to start in Adams County District Court in Brighton, Colorado, when jury selection is completed.

Rosenblatt was fired in 2020 after texting “ha ha” in response to a picture sent to him by other officers, one of whom appeared to be administering a chokehold near a memorial for McClain.

Roedema has been placed on administrative leave without pay.

Lawyers for Roedema and Rosenblatt could not be reached for comment Tuesday.

Aurora Fire Rescue paramedics Jeremy Cooper and Peter Cichuniec are scheduled to be tried later this year after the Colorado Supreme Court on Monday denied their petitions to have their cases dismissed. They have been placed on administrative leave without pay.

Officer Nathan Woodyard, who placed McClain in the chokehold that forced him into unconsciousness, will be tried this year but a date has not been set, prosecutors said. He was fired after the incident. -(source: nbc news)

DNA America

“It’s what we know, not what you want us to believe.”

#dna #dnaamerica #news #politics

[night-gay]

Into the Anthill pt 25 - Project B.I.G.

As well as being the lead researcher on the mysterious vault in the Avengers Mansion basement (which we’ll get to in The Crossing), Hank was working with Bill Foster on Project B.I.G., an initiative that he hoped could end world hunger by making crops larger. In their spare time Hank and Jan both finally got themselves some therapy, which they both absolutely needed. That said, Jan hired accredited help while Hank just rigged up a brain scanner to trap himself in an insect-themed nightmare to work his issues out.

Classic Hank.

🐜🐜🐜

Secret Defenders vol 1 #18-19

Bureau 18 contacted Giant-Man and Dr. Druid to solve a string of unusual insect-related deaths. Hank, Iron Fist, Iceman, and Archangel worked together to stop the insects and protect civilians while Dr. Druid fought Swarm.

Avengers West Coast vol 1 #102

Captain America called for the dissolution of the West Coast Avengers due to what he personally saw as failings on their part. After War Machine quit, the remaining 11 members in attendance put it to a vote. Cap, Black Widow, Black Knight, Hercules, and Vision voted to end it. Scarlet Witch, U.S.Agent, Sersi, Spider-Woman, and Giant-Man voted no. Crystal abstained. With the votes tied, Iron Man exercised his right to vote as an inactive member. With the resentment and lack of support they faced from the East team, he knew it would be pointless to drag this out any further and voted to disband them. Iron Man, Scarlet Witch, U.S.Agent, and Spider-Woman quit the Avengers immediately as a show of protest.

Avengers vol 1 #370-375, 378

The Avengers responded to a distress call from Lemuria. They were attacked by deviants immediately and placed under mind control by their brain-mines. Sersi was used as a pawn to lure in Kro and other rogue deviants in. While most of the Avengers were needed for Lord Ghaur’s plan to create a multi-species uni-mind, Giant-Man and Black Knight were extras and were instead forced into gladiatorial combat. Sersi was able to break Dane free of his brain-mine and shut down the uni-mind from the inside.

Hank ran tests on Dane’s brain to determine the extent of Sersi’s influence over him; the results showed that she had almost fully overtaken his will. Then Proctor and the Eternals arrived on the scene and Sersi left with Dane through a portal to another dimension to cure her madness. With that out of the way, Hank turned his scanner on himself for some much-needed psychoanalysis. In his mind, he was placed on trial by ants and charged with conspiracy to disrupt the insect community and treason against the state of his own mind. He was tormented by insectoid versions of his alter-egos, each one preying on his insecurities. He was able to overcome this by finally admitting to himself that he could never give up the life of a superhero.

Avengers Annual vol 1 #23

Loki and Hades devised a plan to kill Thor and Hercules by using Typhon as a pawn, but failed like they always do. Back home, Giant-Man and Vision engaged in some 1-on-1 training and fought a sentient glitch in Vision’s software.

Avengers vol 1 #382-383

Giant-Man, Black Widow, and Vision investigated the sub-basement of their new Avengers Mansion - an abandoned copy from an alternate timeline installed where theirs used to be - for any irregularities. Most of the mansion’s systems had lost power, and Hank’s instruments revealed what seemed to be a dense chunk of displaced time sealed into a vault that they could not open.

Marvel Double Feature… The Avengers/Giant-Man vol 1 #379-382

Janet spoke with her therapist, Dr. Rossin, about her recent exit from the West Coast Avengers. After a successful return to the fashion industry, she threw a Hollywood-character themed masquerade ball to celebrate. Her guests were horrified when A giant gorilla appeared outside the window (Hank dressed as King Kong with various congratulatory balloons). After the party Hank brought Janet to a secret garden where he and Bill Foster had begun Project B.I.G. (Biotechnically Induced Growth), an agricultural application of his Pym Particle research that aimed to end world hunger.

Hank received a call about giant insects in the Southwest and went off on his own to deal with them, running into trouble as Col. Manning of the Air Force tried to interfere. Hank was knocked out during the fight and Manning took him prisoner on the assumption that this was his fault. Captain America broke him out and brought him to Janet, who had begun to grow uncontrollably. Bill Foster, Ant-Man, Hawkeye, Tigra, and anyone else who’d ever been exposed to Pym Particles was also changing size, and anywhere he’d used the particles saw attacks from giant insects. All of this on the seven year anniversary of the day Janet became the Wasp to fight the Kosmosian that killed her father.

As Kosmosians began to invade Earth seeking revenge on Hank, he pushed his body’s limits and managed to grow to 60 ft while increasing his strength to match (exceeding the 25 ft limit he’d known as Goliath). On the ropes, the Kosmosian opened a portal and Hank went through, discovering Erik Josten (formerly the villain called Goliath). The Kosmosians were using his body’s Pym Particles to attack their targets on Earth, so Hank overwhelmed their systems with his own to keep them from invading again.

Minor/Cameo appearances from this period:

Spider-Man Unlimited vol 1 #3

Starblast vol 1 #1

Marvels vol 1 #2

Marvel Comics Presents vol 1 #152

Warlock and the Infinity Watch vol 1 #26-28

Quasar vol 1 #60

Daredevil vol 1 #327

Thunderstrike vol 1 #9-10

Captain America vol 1 #434

#hank pym #ant-man #into the anthill #marvel comics

[unofficialchronicle]

1hr12min podcast on learning how to make boundaries in your life. Podcast by Glennen Doyle, guest Nedra Tawwab. 

“Who are you in relationship with that only accepts you as a people pleaser?” —Nedra Tawwab

#boundaries #nedra tawwab #podcast #resource #trevor resources #therapy #therapist #find your no #resources

[seatpyjama04]

Who Else Wants Massage?

The 910's lightness is especially impressive when you consider it has a larger screen than the competition, not to mention last year's Yoga. My last non-Apple laptop was a ThinkPad T520 in 2011. Some issues with it prompted me to write my infamous Linux rant and to switch to Macs. The Anti-Police Terror Project has set up a phone line that operates on Fridays and Saturdays for people who need help with issues surrounding mental health, domestic violence and substance abuse, but don't want a police officer showing up. That is the basic theory of the Defund movement: Why don't we take some of the money and some of the responsibilities away from the police, and give the money and the responsibilities to people who are qualified to deal with those issues? People who aren't trained to kill. And there are also all the times police are asked to deal with something that is nothing, and people die. He spoke only when the judge asked whether he understood his rights. Dougherty told the judge Thursday that he anticipates more charges.

Boulder County District Attorney Michael Dougherty explained "there was an officer who was alleged was shot at but was not injured during the interaction with the accused." The criminal complaint filed Thursday identifies the officer as Richard Steidell. Alissa has been charged with 10 counts of murder in the first degree and one charge of attempted murder, the district attorney's office said Thursday. Police have said Talley was the first Boulder officer to respond to the scene. Tribute was paid Wednesday to the heroism of Talley, the officer who lost his life at the scene, as people lined the streets Wednesday. Alissa is accused of opening fire outside and inside the King Soopers store Monday afternoon in the university town of Boulder, killing 10 people -- including a police officer, store workers and shoppers -- as numerous others fled or hid. Alissa, after surrendering inside the store Monday, was taken to a hospital for a gunshot wound to the leg. Alissa was arrested after he surrendered in the store that afternoon -- with a gunshot wound to the leg -- following a gunfire exchange with police, authorities said. Kafka uses Zookeeper to store metadata about the Kafka cluster, as well as consumer client details.

I'm sure she knew full well -- just like my mom did -- that the way this country sees Black children, especially our young men and boys, puts a target on their backs from day one. POSTSUPERSCRIPT are well known. Statues and architecture are straight out of Azeroth. I want to hang out with him. He reminds us all, "Firefighters used to be called out to get cats out the tree. But then (cities) hired some pet control people. Because they understood that's not a good use of that firefighters time." Hard to argue with a man of the cloth when he makes such a good point. Glyph of Mend Pet is now Glyph of Lesser Proportion, which decreases the size of the pet slightly. In the episode, my friend (and "United Shades of America" alumnus) Pastor Michael McBride imagines a world where the police department is the same size as the fire department. The Harvard report comes then at a pivotal moment in American history, one where the nation seems poised to either erase or replay some of the grimmest parts of its past or forge ahead by taking bold steps to build a new world by sharing a new story about ourselves.

I see myself in Elijah McClain's story. People march in the street to protest the death of Elijah McClain on July 25, 2020 in Aurora, Colorado. Always have been. Elijah was a massage therapist who taught himself violin and then played it for stray cats. Alissa is being represented by public defenders Daniel King and Kathryn Herold, both of whom have a history of defending major cases. Alissa sat in a wheelchair during Thursday's hearing, wearing a blue gown. The charge of attempted murder alleges that Alissa tried to kill a separate police officer, according to court documents. The US government already knows this: In 1968, an 11-member commission formed by President Lyndon B. Johnson's administration released a document called the Kerner Report that not only exposed the police as the tip of America's racist spear, but pointed to systemic and cultural White racism as the driving force of that spear.

#massage #health #well-beng #beauty #spa #aroma #healing #life #theraphy

[subwaysurf45]

Code Star

Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)

Words: 2030

Masterlist!

"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.

"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.

"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.

-

It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.

After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.

You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.

Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.

He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.

"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.

You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.

"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.

His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.

You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.

"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.

"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.

"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.

"Sleeping pills?"

"Insomnia."

"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.

"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.

"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.

"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"

"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.

"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.

"What? Like a friend?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.

“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.

-

'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.

'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.

'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.

You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.

You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.

A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.

"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."

He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.

You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.

His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.

"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.

His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.

"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.

"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.

"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.

"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.

"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.

He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.

"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.

All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.

"Tell me," you whispered.

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.

"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.

"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."

"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.

You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.

He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.

Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."

"Love you," he murmured.

#bucky barns fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barns

[rebel-in-white]

Sam Wilson’s Feelings Towards Bucky Barnes

In this meta, I’m arguing that Sam Wilson, as he is portrayed in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, has romantic feelings for Bucky Barnes. Before you think I’m overreaching and reading too much into this show, read on and think about the evidence I’m going to present. Could a simple friendship explain the differences in Sam’s interactions with other characters versus his interactions with Bucky?

Disclaimer: I’m not saying that Disney is going to show us a homosexual couple. Honestly, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m not accusing anyone of queerbaiting either. I don’t want to enter into that argument. I just believe that Sam Wilson is a man in love with another man. 

Sam’s Demeanor with Bucky:

In episode 1, we have a delightful scene between Sam and Torres, who seems to genuinely admire Sam. After taking a video of Sam speaking Arabic, the impressed Torres makes a few light comments. Sam responds with a smile but maintains a serious demeanor and cracks minimal jokes. He doesn’t relax or drop his guard. Compare that to his drastic change in attitude in episode 2. After only spending 3 minutes with Bucky, he’s talking about wizards and sorcerers and something about hats. 

And he’s always joking around with Bucky. He doesn’t let himself do that with other characters on the show, not even his own sister. This shows that with Bucky, Sam feels like he can relax more. For some reason, he feels safe with Bucky to show his true self.

Sam checks on him, constantly

In episode 1, we find out that Sam has texted Bucky post blip several times. Enough times that Bucky’s therapist, Dr. Raynor, uses that to gauge how well Bucky is connecting with other people. She admonishes him for ignoring Sam’s texts. In episode 3, we find out that Sam hasn’t given Sharon the same treatment. He hasn’t texted or called her, despite the fact that she had placed her career on the line for him, Steve, and Bucky. His only concern was Bucky and to see how he was doing.

Not only did he text Bucky, but Sam is periodically checking on his state of mind and well being, showing genuine concern and care. 

“You good?” 

“What’s going on in that Cyborg brain of yours?” 

Again, we don’t see him check on other characters like this. Bucky gets special treatment.

Sam lets Bucky do what he wants

The keyword here is lets. Sam lets Bucky do whatever the f*ck he wants to do because he’s weak in the face of Bucky’s desires and demands. Sam can be very stubborn, he’s just subtle with it. In the show, he refuses to give up on the boat, refuses to give into his sister’s demands, and tries to think of solutions for this problem. That bank scene not only hints at the consequences of the blip and other social issues, but it highlights Sam’s intelligence and determination. When he wants something, he will work hard to get it. That’s why he survived so long as Steve’s partner-in-crime when they were on the run. And he still hasn’t given up on the boat.

Yet, we see this intelligent, stubborn man cave into Bucky over and over again. First, Bucky wants to come with him on the mission in episode 2. Sam says no, but Bucky is sitting with him on the plane in the next scene. If Sam truly didn’t want Bucky to come, he wouldn’t have let him come. He isn’t a pushover- he gave up Steve’s shield because he couldn’t stand the idea of being the new Captain America. Some other examples: Sam lets Bucky go in to see Zemo alone and goes along with his plan to use Zemo’s connections to find out more about the super-soldier serum.

Sam keeps touching Bucky’s metal arm

He’s touched Bucky’s metal arm a total of three times. The first time, after rolling in the flowers, he lets his hand rest on it. This is almost a comforting gesture, one that is entirely unnecessary, but the camera lingers on the touch for a few seconds. Next, in the therapy scene, he pointedly slaps Bucky’s vibranium arm. In episode 3, Sam protectively grabs Bucky when he sees that the danger has increased in the bar. The touch helps snap Bucky out of his Winter Soldier mode. 

This shows a fascination with what makes Bucky different and dangerous, which could be the type of people Sam’s attracted to sexually. Let’s not forget that Sam had expressed physical attraction towards Black Widow, who is the embodiment of sensuality and danger. Sam Wilson has a type, and Bucky fits it.

Sam calls Bucky “Buck”

 It’s the nickname Steve had for Bucky, and it’s interesting that Sam seems a little bothered when Bucky says he couldn’t use it.

“Why not? It’s what Steve called you?”

“Steve knew me longer. And Steve had a plan.”

Sam rolls his shoulders, a gesture of discomfort. He says, “I have a plan.” Almost like he wanted to say, now, can I call you “Buck,” too? It’s also very illuminating to hear this nickname when Sam’s afraid for Bucky’s life in episode 3:

[Gunshots]

“Buck!” Sam yells.

The nickname shows a deeper level of intimacy between Sam and Bucky, something that Sam wants. That’s why he uses it, remarks on Steve having used it, and continues to use it. 

Sam lets himself argue with Bucky

Again, the keyword here is lets. Sam is a very controlled person. I’ve read numerous posts about all the things that Sam has to deal with - blip, institutionalized racism, Captain America’s mantle, that mantle being given to a lesser suited individual, losing his boat, losing his friends, and losing the connection with his family. Yet, Sam holds himself together very well. He doesn’t break dangerous criminals out of prison (looking at you Bucky), and he tries to follow his values in a world that is making less and less sense to him. 

Yet, with Bucky Barnes, he allows himself the freedom to argue with him. They argue in episode 2 numerous times, but I’m going to focus on the argument in episode 3. I loved that random back-and-forth in the middle of a fight scene. I cannot picture Sam doing something like that with Steve, and he definitely wouldn’t argue like that with anyone else. With Bucky, we see Sam let his guard down to bicker and voice his immediate feelings and thoughts. We don’t see this happen with anyone else! He’s usually more guarded with his true thoughts and emotions.

What does Bucky feel?

Unfortunately, I don’t see clear evidence that Bucky reciprocates his feelings. There’s evidence that some feelings are forming (I have high hopes for the pulling Sam’s hand closer to his chest scene!), and the genuine bond is there. As of now, Sam’s feelings run deeper. It’s understandable because Bucky is a man in transition. He doesn’t know who he is, and we can see that struggle in some small details here and there: for example, when Sam wedges his thigh between his in the therapy scene, Bucky places his hands over his crotch in an insecure position. Sam, on the other hand, is relaxed and secure in his identity. Bucky is still struggling to adjust to the modern world when he’s a 1940s man at heart. Plus, there’s Steve. According to Sharon, Bucky was “Mr. America” (LOL). He needs more time to solidify himself and his feelings.

Where did these feelings come from?

Sexual attraction (sexy and dangerous is Sam’s type)

Bucky is probably the only person in his life who makes sense. Everything else is so different and difficult.

He was Steve’s close friend, and Sam loved and respected Steve.

Bucky ignites his protective instincts. Bucky emphasizes this when he says that Sam gave up so much for him. (Interesting that Bucky doesn’t mention Steve, who wanted to save his best friend and helped to convince his current friend to help him do that.)

Perhaps, Bucky reminds him of Riley (would love to see a Riley flashback)

He feels a connection to the loneliness he sees in Bucky. Despite the people in his life and his natural charisma, Sam strikes me as a solitary figure.

Ultimately, we still know very little about Sam and Bucky, and we have three episodes left of the show, so many things can change! Hopefully, the change will be good for this ship.

I hope you enjoyed this meta. Thank you for reading!

#sambucky #samandbucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #meta #essay #the falcon and the winter soldier meta

[jamesbuchananbarnesslut]

Knifly Dinner

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Words: 2,967

Summary: During dinner Bucky figures out a new kink neither one of you expected to like. 

Warnings: smut, smutty, smut, kink discovery, knife kink, knife in the V, as well as P in the V, dirty talk, praise kink

Tiny Tag List: @whisperlullaby​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​

Notes: This is all for @whisperlullaby​ and her 700 follower challenge I love you so much, am so proud of you, and miss talking to you all the time. Either way I’m sending you all my love and an amazing knife kink discovery story. This also happens to be the longest story I’ve written yet, but that’s also no shocker as it involves one of our favorite kinks. Much love and appreciation to all of those who read, please enjoy, love, reblog, and comment! 

Master List

——————————————————————————

You and Bucky had been together for a decent amount of time, you first met each other when the unsnapping happened. You were just trying to find another place to call home and Bucky was working with his therapist and crossing off names in his little black book. During one of his trips to cross off a name, you and he had mistakenly grabbed each other's luggage from the airport, as you both had the same bags. Although you opened your bag to find a wide assortment of men's clothes and a couple hidden weapons. Bucky opened his to find some pretty pink panties and a variety of women's clothing that surely wasn't what he packed. Thankfully there was a little tag stuck inside the bag that directed Bucky how to contact you. It wasn't the best predicament but when you and Bucky first saw each other at the coffee shop to exchange bags it was love at first sight and the rest was history.

After settling down from the events of the government putting the shield in someone else's hands and Sam being named Captain America. Bucky had bought a place for you and him in Louisiana to be closer to Sam and Sarah. Which led to a lot of time spent with the Wilson family, specifically fishing trips and family dinners. It also meant that Bucky did a lot of the cooking, not only was he better at it, but he just loved taking care of you. And you loved watching him cook the way he moved around the kitchen, how he worked with his hands and when he fed you. Which is why you were spending another night sitting at the island in your kitchen, drinking wine, and watching Bucky dice up an assortment of flavorful ingredients for his latest concoction.  

Considering this is how you and Bucky spent most of your nights it was nothing new that you were mesmerized by Bucky's hands and how he worked and moved with a knife. He was always twirling it between his fingers or delicately, slicing, cutting, or dicing up some type of food for you. It was nothing new that watching Bucky in his element turned you on. Even now just watching him you couldn't help the little pool of wetness that started to form in your panties. Or that you were already partway through your second glass of wine before he was even done cooking. It was like he was purposely putting on a show for you, cutting the food up right on the island in front of you. While he asked about your day and you about his, but you couldn't help but get wrapped up in the thoughts of what you were hoping would take place after dinner. You and Bucky had sex regularly, but every time he cooked for you, essentially taking care of you, you couldn't help but want to return the favor and take care of him.  

"Earth to Y/N, are you in there?" Bucky asks while dumping all his diced ingredients into an already sizzling pan.  

"Huh? I, uh, yeah, what's going on?" You look up sheepishly from your wine glass meeting his eye contact.  

He smirks at you, almost knowingly. "You've been real caught up in your head lately doll, what's going on with you?"  

While taking another sip of your drink you ponder whether you should be forward or play it off and ruin the surprise of a strip tease and blowjob after dinner for Bucky. Although he probably already suspects you have something planned, you always do something for him after he cooks. You decide to play it off with work being stressful, because it has been, but the slow season is about to hit so things will be easier shortly. "Just waiting for the slow season to roll in at work so I can finally catch a break," you respond.  

"Yeah, I get that honey. You've been working real hard lately and even started bringing work home, something you usually don't do. Which I'm hoping to see less of soon; but dinner should be done shortly get washed up and I'll top of your wine." He smiles at you and begins pulling the rest of his cooking out of the oven and begins plating everything while you run to the bathroom.

By the time you get back to the kitchen Bucky has everything plated and is waiting to eat with you. The rest of the dinner is smooth sailing, you power through another glass of wine, while Bucky tells you about how Sam spent thirty minutes reeling in a fish just to knock it off the line at the last-minute. In return you tell him about one of the new hires that spilled fresh coffee all over your bosses' desk and important confidential documents. By the time dinner is done and you're cleaning up the dishes, you can sense Bucky is up to something but you're not sure what. That is until you're rinsing off dishes in the sink and Bucky comes up behind you brandishing a knife at your neck. Completely catching you off guard.

"Bucky," said between gulps of air "what are you up too?"  

Pulling you in closer, he responds huskily in your ear, "now doll, I've seen how you watch my hands when I'm working. But recently I've especially noticed how you watch my hands in the kitchen when I'm using a knife."  

You can't help the little gasps that escape you with Bucky's words, he wasn't wrong, Bucky's hands were always memorizing to you. Whether he was laboring over a beautiful dinner for you, or his thick fingers were working in and out of you, it was always hot. But his hands holding a knife, and Bucky's skills with a knife, had always left you wet and wanting. Anytime he showed off those skills it always led to some form of steamy hot sex. You should have connected the pieces sooner, but it seems like Bucky beat you to the punch. Now do you own up to it and let it see how this plays out or act like he read the situation wrong?  

By the time the words come to you, you feel Bucky's confidence in the situation falter. He loosens the pressure of the knife against your neck and even begins to mutter apologies. Your words cut him off though and you fall into one of your typical submissive roles in the bedroom. "What are you sorry for Sarge? Don't you prefer when I'm more vocal with what I want in the bedroom? You must be upset I didn't speak up sooner." You state while wrigglingly further back into his arms, purposefully rubbing your ass against his crotch.  

Bucky readjusts his grip wrapping his vibranium arm tightly around you but keeping the knife loosely at your neck. "I do prefer when your vocal with me doll, so tell me what color you're on right now?"

"Green," you blurt out quickly. The dishes that were begin rinsed off in the sink completely forgotten, you just want to see where Bucky will take this.  

The knife is immediately back at your neck, pushed in enough that if you move it could nick you. "That's a good girl," he replies in a raspy voice causing the pool of wetness in your underwear to return. "Now I need you to stay still doll." He slowly drags the knife from your neck down to your shoulder blade, which sends chills throughout your body and makes goosebumps arise. From there Bucky slips the knife underneath the strap of your dress and bra, before you know it you hear the ripping of fabric, and the straps are completely cut through.

"You're doing so good for me doll," Bucky states while continues to drag the knife along your skin, starting at the shoulder of the straps he just cut. You can't help the little whimpers that leave your mouth, the combination of the knife and Bucky's words all going straight to your pussy. Bucky keeps teasing though and slowly drags the knife across your back to the other straps and cutting right through those ones as well.  

"Here comes the fun part," he chuckles. Bucky releases his hold on you just to spin you around so you're finally facing him. You meet his gaze, and his pupils are completely blown out and black, he's enjoying this as much as you are. Neither of you could have predicted adding this kink to your lists and yet here it is after a typical mundane dinner. Bucky breaks the gaze you're holding when he crouches and brings the knife to the bottom of your dress. He's meticulous in his work and cuts off every single button that's keeping you concealed. The entire process making you lightheaded and your underwear slicker with need.

Slowly working his way from the bottom of your dress up until the lingerie you're wearing for him is revealed and he can slip your dress off your arms. Which he does so immediately so he can get a better look at what you've been hiding underneath your dress. It’s a matching bra and panty set, the straps of the bra completely cut through and ruined. The set is a soft sage green covered with floral embroidered emblements, the colors complementing your skin.  

"Oh doll, did you already have something planned for me after dinner?"

You clear your throat and work out a yes while Bucky begins to run the knife along your body now that the majority if not all of your skin is exposed for him. He starts by tracing your collar bones and then dropping to follow the curves of your body. Slowly across the exposed top of your breasts, down your stomach, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then the knife is moved along your hips until the Bucky's worked it underneath the band of your underwear.

"You'll have to make it up to me another night, I've got new plans for us," and with that he cuts through your underwear too. It drops to the ground in pieces leaving you cold and exposed, allowing Bucky to see the glistening slick between your legs.  

"You like this though don't you doll?" Which he follows by dragging the knife back up your sternum and sliding it underneath the front of your bra so he can cut through that too.  

"Yeah, Sarge, I like this a lot," you work out in little huffs while Bucky peels the cut bra from your body.

"That's good because I'm only getting started." Bucky pushes the knife back up into your neck while dropping his lips in to kiss you. Its dirty, sloppy, and consuming. Bucky only pulls away so you both can catch a breath of air but keeps the knife close to your neck. Once you've caught your breath Bucky drops the knife and instead grabs you so he can lay you on the island where you just ate dinner. He sets you up so your feet are flat on the counter with your knees bent, giving him a perfect view of your glistening cunt.  

"Goddamn baby, I don't think I've seen you this soaked in a long time," Bucky punctuates by the grabbing the knife and sliding it along your legs now. Beginning at your ankle and working his way up towards your knee and into the apex of your thighs. Even on the cold marble countertop you can't help the full body flush that covers you. More moans and whimpers escaping from your mouth as Bucky continues to slowly drag the knife along your pussy and then along your other leg. Back down towards your knee and then to your ankle.  

"I need you to touch me Sarge," you speak out shakily.  

"But I am touching you doll," he continues to follow his path back along your leg, at the ankle, up your knee and into the apex of your thighs.

"I need more," you whine out.

"Where do you want me to touch you, be specific doll?" Bucky smirks at you.

"My pussy," you let out in huffs.  

"Do you want my hands, mouth, or the knife," he lets out calmly, as if that last option was always on the menu.  

You didn't expect the last option to leave Bucky's mouth but now that it has you can't help the deeper flush that covers your body. You can't help but think of anything else, the entire notion making you burn even hotter. You manage to stammer out, "I, uhm, Buck, I mean Sarge, please, will you use your knife to touch me."

Bucky's lets out a groan, is smirking again and then moving the knife in his hands, he puts the blade into his vibranium one and begins rubbing the handle of the blade along your pussy. "Look at you pretty little thing, always take my fingers and cock so well and now you're going to take my knife too. Going to make me cum in my pants with just teasing you honey," he rumbles out.  

After teasing you until your juices cover the handle of the blade, he moves to push it into your velvet folds. It glides in easily causing a gasp to escape your lips while Bucky pushes it in just enough that it's rubbing right against your g-spot. "Oh, that's it doll, you're gripping my knife so nicely. Want you to cover it in your juices so anytime I use it, it smells like you, and I'm reminded of this." Which he punctuates by slowly beginning to move the handle of the blade in and out of you, right against your g-spot. Your moans and whimpers now echoing through the room, while he builds a steady pace.  

"That's it doll, be a good girl and cum all over my knife and then this pretty little pussy can have my cock." Bucky states while dropping his flesh hand down to your clit and rubbing it in rough circles that match the pace that he's moving the knife's handle in and out of you. A heat slowly building throughout your body and spreading into your limbs, while your moans get louder. "Yeah, that's it, make a mess all over my knife," Bucky's words tipping you right over the edge.  

Recovering from your orgasm, you watch Bucky slowly pulls the knife from you licking some of your slick off the handle and then setting it on the opposite counter. He then begins to strip his own clothes and watches you, watching him.  

"Like what you see?" He asks while finally stepping out of his boxers and giving his cock a couple pumps.

"You know I do Sarge," you reply in a deep sultry tone.  

"Common lets take this somewhere more comfortable," he pulls you off the counter and carries you into the living room sitting down on the couch with you in his lap. What you aren't expecting is for him to pull out another knife from the couch and brandish this one at your neck as well. You knew he had weapons hidden all over the house, ever the paranoid that he is. But now that he was using them on you, it was a whole new level of hot.

"I want you to ride me doll, but while you do, I'm going to keep this knife at your neck the whole time. Meaning you better be real careful doll and take it nice and slow, that okay?"

"Yes Sarge," you let out breathily while shifting your position fully straddling him, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance.  

"Such a good girl," he looks at you with amazement but keeps the knife perfectly at your neck, his other hand, held at the nape of your neck preventing any further movement, so Bucky doesn't actually cut you.  

You begin to ride him at a slow steady pace, the knife in his hands following all of your movements perfectly. Even riding Bucky at this slower pace, you can't help but feel your next orgasm already forming. A slow and steady burn starting in your core and working its way out into your limbs. You had no idea Bucky holding you at knife point would be this hot but now you can't help but think how he'll keep finding ways to incorporate it into your sex life.  

"That's it doll. Such a good girl for me, taking my cock so nicely. I know your close again already, you want to cum for me?"

"Fuck. Yes. Sarge," you work out in between gasps while working yourself up and down on Bucky's cock. The cold blade still pushed up into your neck, leaving red marks and scratches in its wake.  

"Want you to make a mess all over my cock too doll, look at you taking me so well" Bucky grunts out while your pussy tightens up around his length. The warmth in your body burning hotter as Bucky's about to talk you into your next orgasm.  

"That's it, common doll, be a good girl and cum all over Sarge's cock." Matching the pace, you've already set, Bucky begins thrusting up into you without moving the knife. His words and matched pace immediately sending you over the edge, while your moans echo throughout the room. Your sweet cunt milking Bucky's cock sending him over the edge with you. Bucky drops the knife just so he can pump his cum properly into you, pulling you tightly into him.  

Once you both catch your breath Bucky is the first to speak again, "if I knew me pulling a knife on you would make you that wet, I would have done it sooner."

#jamesbuchananbarnesslut writes #jamesbuchananbarnesslut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes knife kink #bucky barnes knife #bucky barnes #whispers700challenge

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: You raid the Flag Smasher's base with Walker and Hoskins, bringing back unwanted memories.

Word Count: 2701 (sorry lol)

Reader: Female

Warning: non-con kissing, nudity, blood

Author's Note: lmk for taglist

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

=====

“Ich habe keine Ahnug, wovon du sprichst.” The man sternly says, taking a step to size up Hoskins. “Ihr Amerikaner seid brutal geworden.” He insults causing you to tense, but in a way you knew he was right and it frustrated you. The GRC had good intentions but they didn’t understand what these people were going through.

Hell, you didn’t understand what they were going through. When Steve and the Avengers took you in, it wasn’t exactly a bad situation compared to what others had to deal with during the Blip. Especially with the ones who came back to nothing to their name anymore. The volunteer work made you realize that and it conflicted you. The Flag Smashers had a worthy cause and they were banding together in the wrong way.

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit!” Walker whines out causing you to tense. The tone wasn’t nice and you knew the three of you didn’t come all the way to Germany for nothing. He was getting angry, there was something here and something he had to prove. “We know she came through here. Now, where’d she go?” He demands, his voice threatening.

The man directs his attention to the Captain and looks him up and down. Walker’s stance straightens and you can see his fist balled at his sides. Over the short time of getting to know the new Captain America, you could tell he was falling apart a bit in this situation. Honestly, he wasn’t the worse guy when it came down to the bare bones of things but power can do wonders to a corrupt mind.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when the German fellow spits on America’s new golden boy. The blonde lets out a sigh, showing he was physically restraining himself to jump on the guy. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes narrowing and his head tilted towards the target. The look was the familiar that made your mind flashback to the countless times a Hydra official gave the same look.

Mind going into autopilot, the boys separate like they’ve done these a million times. You stalk forward and brace your forearm, shoving the man back and holding him against the pillar behind him.

“Do you know who I am?” Walker screams out from behind you making you snap back to reality. You immediately release him and step back, the blonde taking your spot in front of him with a threatening gaze.

“Yes I do, and I don’t care.” The man spits back and you see a shift in Walker’s eyes. There was a flash of hurt then it switched to frustration, quickly regaining his facade, blocking out any emotion in his eyes. He leans forward slightly and you think he’s about to punch the guy but he steps back.

The officers start to cuff the man while Walker whispers something to Hoskins and then walks away. You watched with a dazed expression on your face, not believing you fell back into your old ways so quickly with just one gaze. There was a part of you still stuck in your past that you didn’t know about until Walker had you join him in this assignment. It frightened you.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder bringing you out of your negative thoughts. Looking up, you see Hoskin’s kind eyes. “You okay?” He asks in a sincere tone which slightly surprises you. The little voice in the back of your head told you that it was just him trying to manipulate you like they used to and that it was their fault that you were back into all this however a much louder one says otherwise.

You shake your head, forcing a tight-lipped smile to appear on your face. “Yea,” You breathe out and slowly repeat the mantra your therapist had taught you years ago. He stands there for a moment, the internal battle in his mind playing in his eyes.

“I know this isn’t the ideal situation for you but we really do appreciate your help.” His grip on your shoulder tightens in a comforting manner. “I understand Walker hasn’t been the… kindest to you and I can’t apologize for him. He’s still figuring this stuff out, I promise he isn’t always this much of an asshole.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. You never thought how much stress this could be on him. He went from a normal life to being thrown into this hero thing with the title and responsibility Steve took years to build up. It was a lot for him and he didn’t need you reminding him of what he wasn’t.

Hoskins notices your demeanor change and releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He takes his hand off of you and takes a glance toward the hallway where his best friend left then to his left where all the Flag Smashers computers laid out unattended. “I heard you’re pretty good with intel.”

You let out an ironic chuckle, of course, he chose his moment to bring that up. “You had to ruin it.” An apologetic look comes across his face and you wave it off, knowing that it’s time to get back to the task at hand. “Go after your boyfriend, I’ll see what I can do.”

He rolls his eyes at your comment before jogging off to follow Walker. A small smile sneaks its way onto your lips as you watch him leave. It was nice to get an insight on Walker and have a little banter with Hoskins. It made you relax, feeling that you were no longer a hostage in a pretend game of hero.

The police officers around you start collecting what minimal things were in the Flag Smasher’s base. They grab the files in the cabinets, the food they have in the other room, and they even grab the goddamn chairs. They weren’t leaving any stone unturned when it came to this and you understood why... this was Walker’s first mission leading as Captain America and he wasn’t going to mess it up. Your heart goes out to him but that didn’t mean you liked him.

You hold up a hand to the man in uniform as he goes to take the laptop, signaing that you wanted to use it. He nods in understanding and moves to collect other objects. Plopping down on the metal chair, you turn and start typing away.

=====

The room was luxurious like the rest of the mansion. The walls were high, windows extending from the floor to ceiling, giving a breathtaking view of the landscape behind the home. It was a bedroom, a large California king against the wall opposite of the windows. A large desk with a dramatic-looking chair sat near the bathroom causes an evil smile to appear.

“Here it is.” The American turns around while holding his arms out.

“Wunderschön.” You respond, forcing an astonished look on your face. The dark-haired man furrows his eyebrows in response. “Uh… very pretty.” You pretend to struggle with your English to keep up the persona your file had described. He gleams at the compliment and moves to close the distance between the two of you.

He slips his hand around your waist, pressing his body against your scantily clad one. You wanted nothing more than to push him off and slit his throat but your bosses would be punish you for not following the mission orders. Especially when he starts trailing kisses down your neck.

You throw your head back and allow him access though. The kisses and nips were numb on your skin as you lazily trail your eyes around the room. The black dress left no room to hide anything so that meant anything pointy had to be disgusted in your purse… which was left on the dresser next to the closed door. You inwardly cringe at your mistake, saving it in the back of your head for future undercover missions.

There was no chance to lead him back to the entrance so you had to think fast. Gently pushing the man away, he doesn’t take the hint to get off of you and attaches his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in surprise but you quickly recover.

He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and it made your stomach turn. Finally, he pulls away and you take the opportunity to look up at him through your lashes. That was enough for him to start fiddling with the zipper on your back. You let out an airy giggle at the way he struggles with it.

“Here.” You turn around and pull your long hair over your shoulder to give him better access. He hums out and starts to pull the metal tag down. Mind trailing off again, your eyes land on the laptop on his desk. The object of the whole reason why you were here.

The mission assigned was simple since it was your first undercover mission for Hydra. They thought you would be a good candidate considering you were young and “perky” in their words. Having no other choice than to compromise, they dressed you up and gave an identity to play as to get close enough to take the information off the computer.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see a glimmer of light bounce off something in the corner of the room. The man paid no mind to it as it was a coincidence to your dress hitting the floor and the cold A/C of the room hitting your skin. You squint your eyes and try to make out the figure but it’s interrupted by the man spinning you around and throwing you onto the bed.

You stare wide eyed up at the man while he stands above you. A feeling of fear courses through your body at the thought of what’s about to come. The original plan was to sneak off with the target and tranq him but you fucked it up. The boss was going to have your ass if you didn’t figure out a way to get to that laptop.

You didn’t want to do anything further with this sleazeball but you also didn’t want to starve for the next few days. Closing your eyes, you wait for it all the happen. You’ve endured worse at the hands of Hydra so this would sadly come easy for you to block out.

A loud gunshot rings through the room and you feel something warm splatter across your body. Your eyes snap open in a panic to figure out what just happened. The man who was once hovering over you is now lying on the floor with a bullet in his head, blood pooling underneath him. Slowly, your gaze trails up to your own body causing your breath the hitch in your throat once again. Dots of blood litter your skin and undergarments which only meant--

“Are you okay?” A raspy voice calls out, one that you’ve never heard before. A piece of cloth comes into view, the metal hand attached to it surprises you. The Soldier has never shown this type of kindness to you, well anyone, before and it made you nervous. You hesitantly grab the wet cloth from him and start wiping the blood off of your body.

His stare was directed on the floor to give you some type of privacy. It was weird that the Soldier was showing you such care that you didn’t even think could be possible. You knew of his story, a brainwashed POW victim that was programmed to kill. But here he was, waiting patiently for you with your dress in his hand.

Once cleaned up, you stand up and bump into him. His head turns to you causing you to melt instead of flinching away like you usually would. His piercing blue eyes send a shiver down your spine. There was emotion in them. Concern.

Carefully, you reach out and place a hand on the metal appendage. The Soldier’s body immediately relaxes under the foreign soft touch. “Thank you, Soldat.” You whisper out, fearing that any hostility would send him back to his murderous state. Something flashes behind his eyes as he nods in response.

You wake up with a gasp, blankets are long forgotten on the floor. Your chest was heaving up and down as you try to compose yourself from the memory that forced itself into your dream. It’s been a while since you had a nightmare and you were confused. Maybe going back into the field wasn’t good for you. It was bringing back the part of you that you worked so hard to get past.

The abrupt sound of a phone ringing makes you flinch. You reach around blindly until your hand feels the cool touch of your phone laying on the bed next to you. Not even looking at the screen, you slide the green bubble and bring it up to your cheek.

“Hello?” You answer, cringing at how weak you sound.

“(Y/N).”

You close your eyes and release a deep breath, your body physically relaxing at the familiar voice. “Yea, what’s up, Buck?”

“We haven’t heard from you all day, we were wondering how this morning went. Did you find anything?” His tone was soft and steady in contrast to the bustling of the environment behind him.

You shake your head and bring your hand up to run it through your messy hair, “No, not of importance. I went through their laptop but most of the significant information was remotely deleted or something… Found the files but not the documents.” You shrug and fall back onto the pillows behind you. His hum is followed by comfortable silence… until you hear someone whine in the background.

“Are you gonna talk to her or are you gonna sit there like lovesick teen-- Hey, not with the metal arm!” Sam is cut off with what you assume is Bucky slapping him. You giggle at the sound of metal hitting concrete. “Jesus, man, you’re crazy.”

“I won’t miss next time.” Bucky threatens with his teeth clenched, you can imagine him pointing his finger at him with a scowl on his face. The silence resumes while you stare at the lamp on the bedside table. “Are you okay? You’re oddly quiet.”

You hesitate for a moment, your dream flashing in your head. “Yea.” You softly confess, “Just had a weird dream.”

He waits for you to elaborate, knowing you would do the same for him.

“Hydra.”

“Oh,” He lets out a breath and takes a few moments before continuing, “I’ve been having some of those too.” He admits, “More than usual, I guess. Being back out here is triggering some memories and not the normal ones.”

A sense of relief washes over you at his confession. Knowing he was going through the same thing sends a pang to your heart but it was a good thing to know you weren’t alone.

“Well, I have to head out. We have a possible led and we need to check it out before it’s too late.” Bucky announces, you frown. It was nice to be able to talk over the phone with him even though you saw him recently and you didn’t want it to end. “Text me if you need anything, doll, I’m only a message away.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his nickname for you. “Same for you, Buck… Be careful.”

“When am I not careful?” He chuckles out, you can hear Sam snort and mumble something in the background. “I didn’t ask you, Wilson.”

“Just, please, be safe.” You beg, you knew the two didn’t have any restraints and would do whatever it took to get the information they needed. Sam has broken the law for him once and you’re sure he would do it again for a good cause. “I…” You hesitate for a second, the words you wanted to say didn’t come out. “I don’t know what I would do if something bad happened to you…”

“Don’t worry about me, doll.” He tries to calm your nerves but there’s a twinge of nervousness in his tone that makes you uneasy. “I promise.”

_____

taglist: @crowleysqueenofhell @mischiefmanaged71 @thewinterrbucky @lizajane3 @ahahafudge @spookycereal-s @a-girl-who-loves-disney @kittengirl998 @ sebby-staan @felicityofbakerstreet @sltwins @tanyaherondale

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #mcu #bucky x y/n #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter solider x reader #twatws

[vidavalor]

Beginning to think that Sam was helping Bucky to hide...

The canon is asking us to believe that The Winter Soldier stayed hidden for ages without anyone being able to find him. Yes, Bucky’s skilled and all that but considering that The Winter Soldier ran away from Steve and Tony’s fight and disappeared... uh, exactly how did he stay disappeared for *that* long? Especially with Steve and Sam looking for him? Steve didn’t find him until the Sokovia Accords/Zemo situation forces Bucky out of hiding but Steve is also The Avenger who is the least technologically-savvy... but Sam? Sam is plenty technologically-savvy. 

Do we really believe that Sam never found Bucky that entire time? Better question: Do we really believe that Sam-- based on everything we know about him-- would choose to tell Steve if he did? Because while I’m sure he didn’t love lying to his friend, Sam would absolutely see what would happen if he told Steve he had found Bucky. 

Steve believed in the system. He believed in following a certain path. Sam had and has a different lived experience in the world-- one that causes him to think more critically of the ramifications of the system and a bit more big-picture than Steve did. If Sam told Steve that he found Bucky, Steve would say that the next step would be to get Bucky to come with him and the government would take it from there-- a government that likely was looking to hold Bucky responsible for his actions as The Winter Soldier or, worse, might see a weapon they could gain control over and have no interest in helping Bucky get beyond The Winter Soldier. Instead, they might be looking to use him. Steve knows that there can be evil factions within government but he chooses to take a rosier approach to all of it-- assuming that others will act with integrity and seeking to stop them if they don’t. Sam is different. 

Sam is a war veteran who identifies with the PTSD Bucky is suffering and has seen plenty of other soldiers go through something similar, if not quite on the same scale as Bucky. He knows what it is to be a Black man in America and love a country that has a government that is set up not to favor you. He has seen how it has failed its veterans and he’s savvy enough to know that handing Bucky over to the government is basically handing him over to be at least imprisoned again, if not further weaponized against his will. 

Sam found Bucky, probably not that long after Bucky disappeared. He was able to reassure Bucky that he wasn’t there to arrest or hurt him but to help him and Bucky took the risk to try to trust him because he had seen him with Steve and figured he might be able to. Sam never told Steve he found Bucky and on those nights when Team Cap did their own thing, Wanda wasn’t the only one who went to go visit someone she cared for in secret. 

This would help to explain why Bucky and Sam are already at a state of Sam-can-touch-Bucky-without-him-freaking-out and Bucky-is-already-looking-at-Sam-like-he-hung-the-moon in Endgame. They’ve actually had a secret relationship for a couple of years already (pre-Blip, anyway.) Most of it by then also took place during a time when Bucky *was still technically programmed as The Winter Soldier*, which would also add to the levels of trust they’ve built up that we see, especially in the early parts of TFATWS, when they seem to already have more than we’ve seen them earn with one another.

To be clear: I’m not saying they were romantically/sexually involved necessarily when Bucky was in hiding. I’m saying Sam-- the war veteran, the PTSD survivor, the counselor-- took one look at Bucky and knew what telling Steve where he was would bring about and couldn’t do that to him. He felt Bucky deserved a chance to find his way back to his own mind and have a life and he wasn’t about to put a fellow soldier back in physical or psychological chains so he just kept missing that slippery Winter Soldier! for a couple of years while on the run with Team Cap, figuring that the on-the-run bit would eventually work itself out and he could go back to his normal life, though still keeping tabs on Bucky. He likely went further than just not telling Steve as well-- maybe helping Bucky with technology, cover IDs, etc, to keep him going. 

In the process, they became friends, probably both beginning to feel more than that as time went on but not really pursuing it but that could also explain the contradiction between Sam being very aware of Bucky’s various struggles in a way that shows they’ve talked about them (as we see in TFATWS) but also giving him a lot of space and putting up necessary distance during that same time. His response to meeting Dr. Raynor is one of real relief and gratitude that she’s helping someone who is very important to him (he really sounds like Bucky’s husband, meeting his therapist for the first time-- all this before the couple’s counseling, of course.) I am not saying that Sam *should* be taking all this on because he shouldn’t be, regardless of whether or not he’s in love with Bucky. They’re friends and that alone means they need to be supportive of one another but it wouldn’t be ethically right for Sam to act as a therapist to Bucky, even if he wanted to. It has too many conflicts and it changes the balance of power in their relationship. I think what we see in the canon, though, could be explained as Sam was there when he was the only one Bucky had when Bucky was in hiding, which was also when they didn’t really know one another at first. The fact that Sam has taken steps to both continue to be there for Bucky as his friend and be supportive of him but to make sure that Bucky has other resources for this process is actually a really strong indicator that Sam's relationship with Bucky has evolved to a point where he would find it conflicting to be helping to manage Bucky’s trauma recovery. If he and Bucky were just casual acquaintances? If Bucky was just another vet at the VA, like the many Sam helped in his groups back in the day? Sam would be there to help devise those recovery plans. But that he’s taken a step back in that particular way? That he remains there for Bucky emotionally and supportive of him but gave him the space he needed in Wakanda and is happy that he had a therapist in New York? It suggests that Sam wants a different kind of relationship with Bucky-- at minimal, a very close friendship. More likely, a romantic relationship down the line, when and if Bucky was able to recover enough to be in a place to consider one. (Not that Sam was telling Bucky any of this until recently but...) 

But yeah, while it seems like a couple of months at least have gone by between Endgame and TFATWS, even that amount of time-- especially considering Bucky going on a bit of a PTSD/self-loathing pull back towards the beginning and not really responding to Sam’s texts-- doesn’t seem like it’s enough time for the level of intimacy Sam & Bucky already have when we first see them together in the second episode. Them having a secret relationship while Bucky was in hiding, though? Slowly earning some trust from one another? It would also help to explain why Sam is the only one who can touch Bucky without him being bothered by TFATWS and how Sam knows Bucky well-enough to not give up on him, to know what his triggers are and to not miss a beat after Bucky went AWOL for a few weeks and stopped answering his texts. He’s not really upset about it and is teasing him basically the second they see one another again, which indicates both that Sam has enough affection for and understanding of Bucky that a few unanswered texts isn’t going to break them and that Bucky trusts Sam, even when he’s frustrated with him, and puts in the effort to make things work between them because he cares about him. 

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon #captain america #the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel #mcu

[captainrationalfan]

TFATWS

My thoughts on the series:

For a show titled The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, we didn't get that much Winter Soldier. I feel cheated.

Sam is a dull, bland character played by a dull, bland actor. He was outshone in every scene by everyone except the ugly chick who played Karli. I disliked how Bucky was nerfed and sidelined to pump up Sam. If Mackie can't even carry a Disney+ show, how is he going to carry a movie? I suspect Captain America 4 will not do all that well, comparatively speaking, and it'll be blamed on racism, not a dull protagonist.

I was rooting for the Flag Smashers to blow up that stupid boat. I don't care about Sam's sister's money problems.

I wanted more Zemo and Bucky scenes.

I don't give a rat's ass that Walker de-nogginized that terrorist - his only mistake was doing it in public. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Loved the Butler coolly taking out the rest of the Flag Smashers. When Zemo deals with a problem, he DEALS with it. It's nice to see competence for a change. I suspect Zemo has read the Evil Overlord List.

I didn't think it was racism for the banker to deny a loan for a business that hadn't turned a profit in five years to a man who had no income, job or assets for collateral. Sure, he was a dick for asking for Sam's autograph, but I doubt he would have given a white man a loan under the same circumstances.

As usual for the MCU, the government agent who makes perfectly good arguments about the behavior of enhanced people, or against the actions of a terrorist (I'm looking at you Wanda!), is then shown to be over the top evil so we're supposed to discount every good point he makes. (ex. Ross and Tony in Civil War pointing out that the Avengers need accountability and oversight after the completely avoidable clusterfuck in Lagos.)

Sam willingly gave the shield back to the government. His outrage that they gave it to someone who wanted the job was ridiculous.

Bucky's therapist was terrible. Your patient reveals that his entire self-worth is based on the good opinion of someone else and you don't follow up on that? Maybe tell him that Steve Rogers isn't the universal arbitrator of goodness and worth?

The bald Wakandan chicks were arrogant in the extreme. Trying to kill Walker because he made a couple of condescending comments and *gasp* touched one of them on the shoulder wasn't cool, it was psychotic. It doesn't make me want to watch Black Panther 2.

 Sam’s “Can’t we all get along?” speech and his outrage over Karli the Terrorist being referred to as a terrorist was ridiculous.  Once again, the ‘bad guy’ made some good points, and Sam responded with idiotic platitudes.

#TFATWS #Anti Sam Wilson

[mandoalorian]

Hello I really love that one about Javi being scared about something happening to reader, it's so soft. What do you think about reader being kidnapped by the capo and Javier and the whole DEA trying to rescue her. THANK YOU 🥰

Birthday Bloodbath [Javier Pena x Reader]

Read part one here!

Read part three here!

Warnings: if you have any experience with kidnapping this is not the fic for you! I tried to make all descriptions as vague and go over the actual hostage part as quickly as possible but I wouldn't recommend you read something like this if you think it might trigger you. also food mentions, alcohol mentions, cursing, mention of blood, gore, injury, and death, intruders, drugs and drug cartels (other narcos related themes) very very scary situations.

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3k

Authors note: thank you for the request! I'm so glad you liked the first part enough to want a follow-up. I must admit, I did struggle with writing this as I'm not familiar with writing situations like this … but I was in my element writing the fluff at the start!!! I hope you enjoy. 

Masterlist • submit requests 

This was never supposed to happen. You had sworn to Javier that you'd get through this together. Javier had been foolish for believing the Capo and his cartel would have left you alone; and risk their entire distribution. Javier Peña was one of the agents who took down Pablo Escobar; and he was a force that shouldn't be reckoned with. Cartels all across South America knew of him and knew to be aware of him. The Capo wanted a bullet in his brain, but he knew that getting close to someone like Javier wouldn't be easy.

Since Escobar, Javier had gotten a brilliant promotion. He now has his own team behind him, not to mention his own security who would follow him around on his endeavours. It really helped ease Javier's anxiety, knowing that he had people on constant watch who would protect him, but more importantly, would protect you.

You didn't like it; all the fancy security following your every move. You'd visit the launderette just a few blocks away, and they'd follow your every move. But there was nothing you could do about it. They were under firm instruction by Javier, and there was nothing you could do that would change Javier's mind. He needed to know that you were protected.

However, on the day of Javier's birthday, things changed. Javier headed to work early that morning, claiming he could get his papers signed quickly and be home by around 4pm, having the whole evening and night to celebrate with him.

It wasn't often you got to spend time with Javier and since it was such a special occasion, you wanted to make it special. You had been planning for his birthday weeks in advance. Javi wasn't one for parties, and he had planned travelling back to Texas in a fortnight to see his family. It would be your first chance at meeting them. He told you over and over again, no parties. He just wanted a special night in the apartment with you.

But you had to surprise your boyfriend in some way. You had called up his old partner and one of his best friends, Steve Murphy and invited him over for the weekend. You knew Javi would love a few beers and a catch-up with Steve. Steve had called you yesterday morning and told you he had just arrived in Colombia. He was going to surprise Javier in work, on his birthday. You knew that, by now, Javi and Steve were probably together in the office, bickering like they used to. You just wished you could've seen the smile on Javier's face when Steve surprised him.

The beaming rays of sunlight woke you up later than expected. You found yourself wearing Javier's pink button down shirt, and a smile spread across your lips as you reminiced on the amazing night you had before. Ever since the incident with the capo, and Javi's injury, Javier has struggled to cope with it. He had gotten better at talking about his feelings, but it did initiate a certain trauma within him. You were, however, seeing improvements in his nature. Things were finally looking up for both of you.

Your smile grew when you picked up on the infused scent of laundry detergent and cigarettes. You'd much rather be in Javier's arms right now, but wearing his shirt was the next best thing. Merrily, you slipped into the kitchen, the hem of his shirt grazing your thighs. You checked the time on your wrist watch; it was 8:40am. Your security would arrive at your flat at 9am prompt. You poured out three glasses of orange juice for them and put on your favourite record. You decided on skipping breakfast, because you had a feast planned for Javier's birthday dinner. His favourite food was from this local Chinese take-out and you had arranged all his favourite dishes to be delivered to your house.

You didn't plan on leaving the house today, except to go to the bakery to pick up his birthday cake. You walked over to the closet to grab your balloons and streamers. You were going to wait until security arrived so they could help you decorate the house but you decided there was no harm in getting a head start.

Head deep into the closet, you swore you heard your front door open. You brushed it off, thinking you had probably just nudged something on one of the shelves. You clambered out of the small cupboard, hands full of decorations, and went to carry them into the kitchen. Just before you got there, you heard a glass clink against the counter. You thought it was weird, but maybe it was just security. Maybe they had arrived early and were helping themselves to the orange juice you had prepared. 

"Okay boys!" you shouted, juggling packets of balloons, banners, confetti, and streamers in your arms, being careful that nothing dropped to the floor. "We have a lot to do today. As you know, it's Javi's birthday and so-" you froze when your eyes locked onto the three men standing in your apartment.

They weren't your security, but they sure as hell had drunk your orange juice. Stood before you were three men, clad in military print overalls and gold chains. "Uhm…" you stumbled backwards slightly, dropping most of the decorations in your arms. "Can I help you?" you asked. You peered behind the three men and noticed the lock on the door had snapped off. These men were intruders.

The man in the centre, had jet black curly hair and he shot you a hungry smile. He stepped forward, caressing your arm and his smile only grew when you shivered under his touch.

"Who are you?" you spat when no one responded to you. "Why are you here?" 

"She's such a pretty little thing, isn't she?" one of the men purred, while the other nodded his head in silent agreement.

"Whatever you want… money? I can get you it just- please don't do anything stupid." you tried negotiating, something Javier had always taught you to do if you had ever found yourself in a situation such as this one.

The capo grabbed your throat with a sudden force and you let out a yelp. He pushed your chin up with his two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. "We were looking for agent Peña," the capo explained, a glint in his eyes. "But I think you might be the next best thing." he smirked, pushing you down to your knees.

You landed on the oak wood floor with a thud. "Tie her up." the capo commanded; and his two sicarios obediently followed his instruction, taking thick piece of rope and tying it around your wrists. You could feel it begin to graze and cut at your skin as you tried to escape from their firm grip.

"My boyfriend- if you don't let me go he'll kill you when he finds out about this. You don't want to get personal with Javier, I'm warning you." you said through tear filled eyes and gritted teeth.

"Actually, agent Peña got personal with us first, when he tried and failed going undercover to our headquarters. He thought we wouldn't catch on," the capo laughed. "He promised us he'd keep his mouth shut and we'd let him walk three. But we followed him home. We've been tracking your phone calls with him for months now. We know he lied to us. We know he's been seeing a therapist about what happened. We have cameras deployed out in the street… watching your every move. Looking into your windows…"

One of the sicarios nodded his head and took a swing of the orange juice. "Ooh sir, you should've seen her and agent Peña last night. I got it recorded-"

"What the fuck? You sick pervert!" You screamed, trying to scramble to your feet. It was no use. The capo kicked his foot into your back and you fell back down on your face. You groaned, trying to catch your balance when you felt something salty drip into your mouth. It was blood. Your nose was bleeding.

"Listen, if you just play along to with our little game, everything will be okay. Except for agent Peña of course… but you know, you still have a chance of making it out here alive!" the capo cackled, hysteria dripping from his tongue. "So when will your dashing DEA agent be home?" 

You shook your head, refusing to answer. Javier wouldn't be home for hours. Fuck, you really didn't know what to do. "My security will beat the shit out of you." you snarled, but felt so defeated knowing your threats were empty.

The capo let out another laugh. "Aw, she must think the security that we annihilated in the corridor would return from the dead to protect her?"

"Holy shit, you killed them?" you hissed in disbelief.

One of the sicarios held out a knife, stained deep in blood. He held it to your neck, wiping the blood of your security on your skin. You were out of options. You were so afraid. 

***

"Noonan still an ass?" Steve chuckled, lighting Javier's cigarette. Javi took a puff and nodded his head.

"Yeah, but she has her moments," Javier shrugged. "She's letting me get off work early today."

"Birthday privilege?" Steve pointed out and Javier nodded his head in agreement.

"It's been so good to see you, but I gotta head home to see my girl." Javier smirked and Steve wolf whistled.

"Yeah? How's she doing by the way?" Steve asked and Javier felt a blush creep upon his cheeks at the mere thought of you.

"She's good, she's good." Javier grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Never in a million years did I think my friend Javier Peña would actually settle down," Steve laughed and Javier nudged his arm playfully. "I owe Connie twenty bucks!" 

Javier rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette. "Come over later for a few drinks, yeah?" Javier pulled Steve in for a long awaited hug.

"I'd like that bud, I'll bring the beers." Steve replied and offered Javier a comforting pat on the back. "I'll see you later."

On the drive home, Javier completely forgot it was his birthday. His mind was just consumed with you— the love of his life. You were the only person who looked after him, cared for him, and were constantly at his beck and call. He chastised you for it and he told you that you did too much for him, but your compassionate nature truly meant so much to him.

After an amazing night with you, he couldn't wait to surprise you at home. He couldn't wait to pick you up and hold you in his arms. It was still morning, so it meant he could spend the whole day with you.

His excitement was cut short when he pulled up into the driveway of his apartment complex. He saw three black vans with tinted windows, and recognised them from his encounter with the drug cartel months ago. A knot tightened in his throat. Quietly, he hopped out of his own truck and entered his building. Making his way through the maze of hallways, his heart dropped when he found his three security guards lying dead against the walls outside his home, their blood soaking through the carpet.

Javier's instincts were to bolt inside your shared apartment and rescue you. He knew for a fact you were in danger— that they were in there, holding you hostage. But he had to think logically. They wanted Javi dead, and he didn't know what the numbers would be like.

Javier backed off down the corridor and took out his cell phone. "Hey Steve? Are you still at the Embassy? I think the cartel has y/n. I need your help. And call for the other agents; we need serious backup!" Javier explained a thorough plan to Steve on the phone, who promised Javier he'd be there within minutes. And Steve Murphy always kept his words.

While Javier waited, he looted the bodies of his security for any weapons they had possessed. He hid a gun under his pants and slid a knife into his pocket. When he saw Steve at the front gate, pulling up with a van filled with fellow agents, he offered him a nod of acknowledgement. This was where Javier's plan started. He was going in.

Javier had decided to play it cool and pretend like he didn't have his whole team behind him. He opened the unlocked front door yelling an unfamiliar "honey I'm home!". Javier never said anything like this and so he hoped, by hearing this, you would catch on that he had it covered.

His heart was racing in his chest when he caught a glimpse of you, tied to a chair wearing only his shirt. You had silver electrical tape around your mouth and blood that Javi prayed wasn't yours. Your eyes were puffy from your tears and fear prevailed through them. He muttered your name and hurried to your side, falling to his knees and taking out the knife from his pocket.

"You're okay baby, you're okay I'm here. I've got you." Your whimpers broke his heart. He sliced open the rope, releasing your hands. "How many are there?" he whispered into your ear. You managed to hold up three fingers and Javier gulped, starting to unbind your ankles when he felt a gun press in between his shoulder blades.

Javier removed his hands from you and raised them in a surrender position above his own head. Javier stood up straight and turned around to face the capo, gun now pointing into his chest. He recognised the two sicarios behind him from last time.

"Whatever you need, I can get for you." Javier promised, lowering his hand to the barrel of the gun and cautiously pushing it away from him. "I have money."

"What we needed was your silence… your honesty, agent Peña. And we needed that about three months ago."

"I didn't say shit to the DEA," Javier spat angrily.

"But you told her, didn't you?" the capo pointed his gun at you and you let out another frightened whimper, closing your eyes, petrified.

"You shoot either of us? It's life in prison. Your whole cartel goes bust. Don't make a mistake here." Javier just needed to buy a little more time….

"She told me it was your birthday," the capo chuckled. "How ironic. You were born today, you die today."

Just then, your front door burst off the hinges as Steve Murphy and an army of about 20 agents bolted through the tiny apartment, immediately shooting down the two sicarios and Steve held a gun to the capo's head. You could hear police and ambulance sirens outside as tears began to stream down your face. Your hope was cut short when the capo fired his gun.

You screamed as the pressure from the bullet knocked you off your chair and two the ground. He had shot right in your chest, just next to your collarbone. The pain was blinding and you curled your fingers into a fist. Another gunshot; and Steve had shot the capo down. Javier screamed your name and ran to your side, cradling you in his arms. He gently ripped the tape off your mouth and freed your ankles. 

"I've got you baby, hey stay with me. I've got you." he whispered, nursing you in his arms.

"Javi," you choked out, wincing in pain.

"Can someone get me a flannel and there's a first aid kit under the bathroom sink!" Javier cried out, his voice hoarse as his red hot blood coursed through his veins. "Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me. There's an ambulance outside. There'll be up here any minute."

"Javi… I love you so much." you sobbed. The pain was becoming unbearable and your eyes fluttered shut.

Javi cupped your cheek as one of the agents passed him a flannel and the med kit. He began to apply pressure to your wound. "Stay with me, stay with me angel. I love you."

Your breathing began to hitch and Javier was so afraid he was going to lose you for good. He was going to lose the love of his life. If anyone was meant to be shot, it should've been him. He cursed himself. It should've fucking been him.

Paramedics raced over to you and pulled Javier back. "Be careful with her." Javier exhaled, his hands shaking as Steve steadied him.

"She's going to be okay." Steve reassured his friends. "She's in good hands."

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!):  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic

"This is all my fucking fault Steve." Javier cried, falling to his knees as his heart shattered into a million pieces. "This is all my fault."

NEXT PART

#javi peña #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javi pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fan #narcos

[angeli-marco-writes]

Steve Rogers - Promise

A/N - So, this is my first marvel imagine? I haven’t watched all the films yet, I’m halfway through and watching them all in chronological order, but I couldn’t resist because I love Steve Rogers. So much. Once I’ve finished watching, I'll probably realise a shit tonne of mistakes in this, but please don’t judge. Apologies for any typos and incorrect information. GIF credits to owner.

Warnings - angst, smut so 18+ please; fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do it), borderline ‘captain’ kink, 5k.

Summary - you’re an admin worker in stark tower, an average working girl except for one thing, you have a superior memory, one that has aided you many a time. But when you’re leading Cap on a mission and it gets cut off, is it because of your memory, or are you just letting your crush on Steve cloud any reasonable thinking?

YOU LOVE YOUR JOB, there’s no denying it. You’re young, a Brit in America, just working to help with your future, but after how well it’s been going recently? You don’t think you’ll want to leave. 

You’re an admin at Stark Tower. Not that one is really needed with all of Tony’s tech, and the fact that everyone is more than capable of sorting themselves out, it’s just fun to be around. Not only do you complete all the stenography and spreadsheets that don’t necessarily have to do with anyone specific, but you also do many of the more artistic plans and are everyone’s personal therapist. You probably don’t help your own cause - leaving your door propped open with a book to let anyone drift in and out of their own accord at any given time, unless you’re properly working, and then they know to find you in your office. Yes, your very own office.

Recently, with you becoming more and more familiar with the workings of all the residents, growing more knowledgeable of their work lives, picking up the lingo and everyone’s gladness at your perfect, imperturbable memory, you’re slowly being given more tasks. This could be anything from mission reassignment to looking through months old footage, but you’ve been helping out over the system on a couple of missions. You really feel like one of the team even though you know you’re far from it. Sleeping in the tower helps, as well as being welcomed by everyone every meal time that you sit together, especially the way they test your memory trick and always seem completely amazed at how you remember the most obscure details. Anything from the exact positioning of a birth mark on someone that Natasha took down the first week you began working, to the precise measurement of metal that Tony needed to complete a new project, to the freckle on Steve’s bare ass that one time he had to use your shower-

That escalated quickly. 

Currently, you’re in your office, daydreaming and completely wistfully thinking. You have no trouble remembering every conversation you and Steve have ever had, not that many admittedly, but he’s always been so kind to you. He was the first one to truly make you feel part of the team, welcoming you with a hug before holding you at arms length and brushing a crease from the arm of your blouse. You’re not really sure if he’d seen anyone dress that way, since all the girls he was around were always in their kick ass clothes, gym shorts or comfies, so you wandering around day in day out and wearing frilly Victorian-era blouses paired with short, tight pencil skirts and Louboutin stilettos may have been a shock to his system. It wasn’t with any agenda in mind that you did this, merely a mix of modesty and business woman style. Every word Cap has ever said flies through your mind, the impeccable memory of the way his exquisite nylon suit clings to him in all the right places... 

Steve is the only guy you’ve fancied for a while, the only person you’ve ever really gone for emotionally, and all of that is because he’s such a cute human being; so genuine, so upbeat around you, so supportive, and his smile. Goddamn his smile. He’s just too cute for life, which is also why you should really be concentrating, considering you’re supposed to be monitoring his mission. 

“Y/N, are you there? I think somethings happening, someone’s here that we didn’t know about, where do I go?”

His usually soft voice is frantic, and you can tell he’s a little scared, since this was supposed to be a simple solo mission, in and out, but now you’re having to recite an escape route. 

“Turn left at the end of that corridor, half way down there’s a grate on the wall. Pull it off, climb inside.” You tell him as calmly as you can, but even your heart is beating out of your chest, breathing laboured and a slight sweat forming on your forehead. 

“I’m in, sweetheart. What next?” Not the right time for your heart to flutter at his words, especially not the time to imagine the way his raspy morning voice would curl around those very same Few words...

“Follow the route, it’ll bring you out in a downstairs kitchen area that was empty last time I checked, I’ll look again...” you trail off, clicking off the one screen with the dot of his whereabouts to check the surveillance, and he seems to be safe. 

You hear his breathing calm down as he crawls through the ventilation system, but even as you flick through every camera that you’ve been able to access in the building he’s in and the surrounding area, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary apart from a couple of unconscious, probably dead blokes scattered across stone floors.

“I’m in the kitchen, but there’s no doors in here, no way out.” He says. 

Fuck.

Your heart sinks to your feet.

“Yes there is Steve, it’s on the north wall beside a faux, oversized spice rack. It has a silver handle and it’s an oak door, exactly like my bedroom door.”

He pauses, his heart rate thrumming heavily, “sweetheart there’s no door here, there’s no spice rack, just old built in cabinets and flat walls. You must have misremembered.”

“Shut the fuck op Steve, I’m doing what I can,”

Your usual eloquence is out the window along with all of your chill, sounding mildly like a road man as you frantically tap between the screens. He’s right though, his only way out is to climb back in the vent and hope to god, well, or Thor, that no one finds him there, but that may be too late.

“Try the cold tap on the sink, I don’t know exactly what was said but I distinctly remember someone talking about it. Stay calm for me Cap, please.” You want to beg for him to be ok, to come back in one piece, because this isn’t a normal mission, you’re emotionally attached. 

He takes a deep breath and walks over to the tap, but as soon as he touches it, all surveillance is cut off, your computer goes black, and you can’t even hear his breathing anymore. 

“Steve? Cap, come back to me, can you hear me? Steve?” With each call of his name to which he doesn’t respond, you grow more frantic. The lights are still on so you know that it’s not the mains, but you’re not educated with circuits, so you do what you can to reboot your computer, only for it to show up with your bland screen of spreadsheets, sans anything about the mission or Steve.

Your hands start shaking, lip quivering and mind overwhelmed with stress. It’s over, you’ve lost Steve, fucked up the mission, you’ll be out of a job, and the worst part? You broke a promise. 

“Promise you’ll keep me safe out there Y/N?” Steve asked, his cute little smile twinkling in his eyes and making your whole body go giddy.

“I promise, but you have to promise that you’ll come back in one piece.”

“That I can do, for you.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around your body and placing a kiss to your hairline. 

You haven’t been at the compound long enough to know whether this is normal for Steve, or for anyone, or if he’s just a natural flirt. Whatever it is, you feel too guilty to face him again if he even comes back alive. 

Slowly, soft sobs start to escape your lips without you noticing, tears slipping down your cheeks and dampening the neck of your blouse. You can’t help the guilt that overtakes you, the fear that you can’t even reason, and that’s when you hear a soft knock on your door.

“Can I come in?”

It’s Natasha. You nod gently as she takes a seat in the corner of your room, throwing her feet up on your coffee table so nonchalantly that it’s almost not a challenge of authority. 

“What’s up? Didn’t you have to radio for Cap?” Once again you nod, hastily wiping the tears from your face and smoothing your skirt out. “So, why are you crying?”

You like Natasha, of course you do, but you have normal people emotions and a little more conscience, unable to stand the thought of anyone even getting a papercut on your watch. 

“He went off, the computers crashed, and it’s all my fault.” You say, standing up and moving to shut your office door, locking it for safekeeping, because if Bucky finds out then you’re dead. 

Natasha grabs a lollipop from your sweet bowl and sticks it in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s flirting. She’s not, that’s just Natasha. “Care to elaborate?”

You take a sharp breath, “someone was there that we didn’t calculate, I had to get him through the ventilation system to an abandoned kitchen that I KNOW had a door, my memory doesn’t glitch, so in the time it took for Steve to get through the vents, someone must’ve closed off the door, but I’m not sure how. Then he just went when he touched the only possible thing that could be an escape route. Fuck, what if he’s dead?”

You feel tears bubbling up in your eyes again, blinking harshly to keep them away. 

“So what if he is? You’re smart, you’re panicking, so you’ve obviously done everything. It sounds harsh but you can’t get too attached. Just listen out and he’ll come back of his own accord, but if he doesn’t then we’ll have to deal with that later.” She says, grasping a hand around your shoulder before  stepping over the threshold to the main compound, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

Maybe she thought tough love would work, but she has a point. You’ve done everything you can, so now it’s just a waiting game.

You keep an ear piece on you but shut your office for the night, heading out to the bar to pour yourself a more than healthy sized glass of wine. You unbutton your shirt a little and slide down the wall to your favourite reading spot, in one far corner, you set up some cushions and bedding. You’re the only one that uses it, but you could swear that you’ve seen Steve eyeing it up before. So you sit, tears streaming down your cheeks and leaving you with mascara-stained tear tracks, the first few buttons of your shirt recklessly undone, and your heels flung elsewhere. You bring the bottle over with your glass, and you pick up a book to keep you distracted. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, guilt slowly building, occasionally calling Steve’s name to check if he’s come back on the system, but there’s nothing. Nothing until the lift doors open, and out walks a very bloody Cap with his suit half on and a skin tight white t-shirt clinging to his upper body.

The tears don’t stop falling from your eyes, but you close your book anyway. You would stand up, run to hug him, but your legs can’t hold you up, so you stay seated, all your words caught in your throat as Steve edges further across the common area towards you. 

He offers you a shy smile, virtually collapsing into the carpet only metres from you. Slowly his head lifts, hair falling into his eyes, and he holds his arms out. 

“Oh god Steve,” it’s him. Really him. You feared he’d be a hologram or something, your eyes deceiving you from their soreness post crying. But he’s here, you can tell from the overly memorised display of veins in his bicep when he offers you his arm. 

“It’s me,” he nods, edging a little further towards you as you crawl closer and settle into his grip. 

Your tears flow freely, dampening his shirt. Neither of you says a word, he just grips you closer to him, cuddling your legs into his lap to soothe you.

After a while, Steve fidgets, and you find your eyes dry. 

You angle your head upwards, your well kept chignon completely haywire. Steve’s face is covered in bruises and dried blood, but his eyes don’t look at all worried. 

“What happened?” You whisper, words vibrating through his chest. 

“The tap was a trick, or maybe I twisted the wrong one, but all the lights went out and I was shocked, I had to attack a few guys but I made it out, albeit bruised.” He swallows, running a shy finger over the curves of your face. “Were you worried about me?”

You nod, clutching him close. He chuckles and draws circles on your back through your shirt, just his soft touch more comforting than anything else. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart, is my nose broken though?”

You look at his nose, softly smoothing over a hell of a bruise, before placing a gentle kiss to the bridge. 

“No, trust me. In British comps, fights happen daily, and my ex was in with a bad crowd, always in fights. I had to deal with all kinds of injuries, and your nose is not broken. Be grateful because it hurts to sort it out.”

He laughs and brings you in.

“You deserve so much better than someone like that. I was worried about you when I was out there you know...” he says.

A strange conversation transition, but who are you to judge. 

“I was so scared, I thought you’d died,” ah shit, here come the tears again, “Natasha told me to just wait it out like I wasn’t completely emotionally attached to you. Bloody hell, Steve, I’d be responsible if you died.”

He cooes sweet reassurances in your ear, wrapping his arms entirely around your torso while the join between his neck and shoulder becomes your sanctuary.

“I’m emotionally attached to you too if that helps,” he whispers in your ear, so quietly that he hopes you didn’t hear, instantly regretting it. But with the soft kiss you place on the sweet spot just below his ear, he brings up all his courage to angle his head just right, capturing your lips in his in the sweetest of kisses. 

You gasp into the kiss, your reaction giving Steve means to believe you didn’t like it, instantly pulling away and dropping his hands from around your body.

“I-I’m sorry, you’re upset and I took advantage of that, and I haven’t really been with anyone since, well...”

“Shut up and kiss me, Steve.” You command, cutting off his rambling, your hand cupping his cheek. 

His hands slowly make their way around your body, fumbling for the bottom of your blouse and subsequently unable to find where your shirt ends and your skirt starts. You giggle a little into the kiss, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss by delving his tongue into your mouth. You place your hands over his and guide them to your chest. For a second, he seems confused, his lips halting their massaging movements on your own, until he finds the open buttons at the top of your blouse. He pulls his lips away for a moment, breath mingling together in the air. His smells of strawberries, you note. He glances at you for reassurance, something which you eagerly give, so he begins. His hands slowly work their way over your chest, fingers fiddling with your buttons as you wait patiently, completely submissive for Steve to do whatever he wants to you. 

He pushes the material from your shoulders, and you untuck the back of it from your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, revealing your bra. Though now you see Steve eyeing it up, you realise it’s not really a bra at all, rather two triangles of flimsy fabric with some bands and strings attached, one of your only bras that doesn’t show through a sheer blouse. The way his eyes are boggling at your tits though, you guess he likes it. 

An unwitting blush creeps up your neck and cheeks, suddenly feeling cold under his scrutiny.

“You can touch them if you want,” you chuckle lightly, fearing that you’ll sound like an inexperienced teenager if you say more. 

Steve blushes as crimson as you, his large hands leaping at the opportunity to feel you. You throw your head back in pleasure as his cold thumb rubs over your nipples, making them hard to the touch, and the rest of his hands get to work massaging and kneading your boobs, pulling down the fabric to softly kiss your bare skin. 

Although he hasn’t done this in a while, well, a lifetime, he still knows how to do it realllly well. 

Your hands fly to his heart, keeping him there, his lips switching between your breasts until you grow a little more needy, grinding down on his bulge. 

“You wanna do this?” He asks, voice a little hoarse but still silky. 

“Yes, Steve. Fuck, just take me.”

“Language,” he chides jokingly, but despite that, he agrees. 

Clearly he doesn’t need to be asked twice, because he has you flipped beneath him with your back on your cushions in your reading corner, his lips attaching your neck. 

You fumble with the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head between kisses and suckles to a sensitive spot on your neck. He’s carved like a Greek god, abs toned to perfection, his tanned skin rippling with any given movement. He feels so soft too, skin tender beneath your fingers, trailing them gently across his back and torso to simply feel him. The contrary of gentle skin and solid muscles is one that makes your mouth water with desire, bringing Cap’s lips back to your own, palms pressed firmly against his back. You go in deep this time, licking his mouth and devouring his taste. To your surprise, he kisses you back with even more fervour, so passionate that you lose track of any thought swirling in your mind. 

“Suit off, now.” You call breathlessly, watching on as Steve clumsily tries to peel off his trousers by using the sleeve of his suit. He’s moving so recklessly that with an abrupt movement he’ll snag the fabric, ripping the suit that makes him look heaven sent. 

“Here,” you giggle, offering a hand out which he gladly takes, letting you shimmy the tough material down his legs, only blocked by his clunky boots which he kicks off at the same time as the suit, haphazardly leaving them wherever they fall in the lounge. “Fuck.” Is all you can choke out. The serum worked on everything. Even with his briefs still on, you can see his cock twitching within its confines.

“You’re wearing too many clothes now,” he faux scolds, leaping atop you again, kissing your collarbone as his hands work their way down your body. 

First he unhooks your bra properly, throwing it off and you both hear it land on the glass coffee table from the way your clasp knocks the glass. Next he moves onto your skirt, unzipping it, your hips raising of their own accord to accommodate his actions, slipping it off alongside your tights, revealing your bare legs to him for the first time. He doesn’t care about any of the natural marks that grace your skin, merely that you’re sitting in just your panties and only for him. 

“God you’re so beautiful,” he says.

He runs his palms over your thighs, just feeling your skin beneath his. His touch is soothing, as is his presence, allowing you to feel open towards him. You tilt your legs a little more open, revealing to him the small wet latch that graces your not-so-sexy work underwear. 

“All for me?” Steve asks, eyes innocent and doe like. 

If he’s really this sweet and naive then you’re gonna fucking ruin him. Sweet Jesus what you wouldn’t do to that man, starting with your incredibly well hidden Captain kink, though it may not be hidden much longer.

He brings a finger up to your core, pushing your panties to the side to run a finger up and down your slit. He audibly moans while collecting your slick from between your folds, fingers rough in contrast to the part of his body that you’re gripping onto, though you’re not sure quite where from your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Ready?”

You nod, bracing yourself as he rips your panties off and pushes one finger inside you. He feels brilliant, his fingers so much longer and better than your own, already bringing you jolts of pleasure from its presence. 

He draws it out before pumping back in again, continuing his movements. Your forehead falls against his bare shoulder, small gasps of pleasure escaping your open mouth.

“More,” you pant, ready to feel more of his intoxicating ministrations. 

He nods obligingly, slowly adding a second finger, continuing his gentle assault on your pussy. God, it’s been so long since you’ve had sex, just his two fingers pumping in and out of you brings you more pleasure than you’d care to admit. 

“S-stop,” 

He looks up at you, immediately withdrawing his fingers, covered in your juices and glistening in the moonlight. You flush far too deeply at such a simple thing. 

“I need to feel you already, please.”

You sensually drag your finger all over his bare chest, hearing his breath hitch in his throat. He nods vigorously, hair falling in his line of vision, but scrambles to be on top of you properly, hands either side of your head on your array of cushions and his legs steady, trapping you completely beneath him. 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna take advantage of you, y/n. You’re so beautiful and perfect and I want your first time with me to be something you’ll remember forever.” He says sweetly, but despite his kind words, you can’t help but chuckle for a solid few seconds before he realises what he’s said. 

“Ok, but are you sure you wanna do it here rather than my room? Yours is out of the option, everyone will assume you’re dead if your book isn’t there anymore...” 

once more you chuckle, as does he, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw. 

“I’m sure, Steve, now get inside me before I change my mind and wake Bucky up,” you quip. 

He knows you’re joking but gets to work anyway, swiftly getting rid of his brokers and ungracefully kicking them off as you watch him. He may be hot but even Loki’s magic may not be able to make him elegant. 

As soon as he’s back in his previous position and you see is dick slapping against his stomach, hard and already a little red, you can’t help but gape. His too-tight boxers didn’t do him justice because now you’re worried he won’t even fit. 

He sees your worried face and panics, “We can go back if you want, we don’t have to do this.”

“I want this Steve, shitting hell-“

“Language,” he chides, interrupting you, allowing you to cock your eyebrows at him, a look to say ‘is this really the time?’

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life, just go slow because you’re huge.” You finish, smiling at his dorky smile and flushed cheeks. 

Of all the things he could blush at, he chooses a compliment. Such a dork, you think to yourself, unable to stop the contagious smile creeping onto your face.

“I’ll be careful with you, I promise.”

And that he is. 

“Oh, and call me captain.”

That’s something you knew he’d have a kink for, making you smirk a little too. 

He runs the head of his cock through your folds to father a little lubrication before pushing in, very slightly and very gently. He bends his arms and kisses all over your face with the new leverage, feather light kisses of pure affection before you give him a breathy whisper, resembling of a ‘more’, so he pushes in a bit more again, repeating the process until he’s buried to the hilt inside your aching core, clenching around him without Steve even needing to do anything. 

“Can I start moving?” He asks, awkwardly shifting his weight above you, but you nod vigorously, kissing him urgently as his lips begin to move. 

He starts off slow, gradual thrusts, ensuring that he finds every weak spot inside or you, making your toes curl already and your legs knot around his waist, his tongue still dancing with yours. 

He increases his pace after a while, bucking into you faster, making you moan out his name and clutch onto his wonderfully broad shoulders.

You pull your lips away for a moment, “more Captain,” you ask, nothing more than a breathy sound, but Steve obliges. 

He breaks the kiss as he begins snapping his hips into yours with fervour and purpose. His balls are hitting your bare ass, his cock stuffed inside you and making the most delectable sounds from how wet you are, all for Steve. He looks down, tearing his gaze away from your pretty little face with your die eyes and parted lips, only to watch as he sinks into you again and again, blurring the lines of where he ends and you begin.

“Steve, Captain, please, talk to me,” 

Your words come out as a strangled cry, a beg mixing with his moan at the name, oxygen lessening as your eyes flutter shut, too engrossed in the pleasure to even care that your voice has gone up in pitch while his has gone down. 

“You’re such a tease, walking around in that tight skirt all day, those long legs always crossed. All I want is to pull them apart and go down on you, under your desk, in the kitchen, just anywhere that I can have you for my own.” 

His voice is low, raspy and needy as he trails his tongue along your collarbone filthily, forcing your eyes open with some unearthly force he must possess simply so that he can meet your gaze as he bites your nipples, his cock continually hitting that sweet spot inside you. 

“It’s not just that though,” he continues, resuming his dirty talk between caresses of his lips all over you, “you’re so perfect. So stunning, so intelligent, the reason I wake up every day just for the hope that one of these days I’d be able to kiss you.”

his hips halt just for a moment, long enough to unwrap your legs from his back and throw them over his shoulders, lust filled eyes boring into your own with an uncharacteristically devilish smirk. 

He kisses you again, fleeting but passionate before he nibbles your earlobe and purrs,

“And now I get to have you at my mercy, and believe me, that desk fantasy is gonna come true every day.”

With that sentiment, he starts ploughing into you even more ferociously than before, making you scream his name, a lot of murmured ‘Captain!’s and curses mingling with the cries. 

The new angle hits spots you forgot even existed. Your nails take his back, tugging in and clinging on for mercy, the burn of your legs in such a contorted position only adding to your pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you shout breathlessly, chest heaving, your boobs moving up and down of their own accord and Steve is unable to take his eyes off them.

You feel the coil ready to spring in your stomach, a climax that’s been steadily building since he first kissed you. 

“Tell me what you’re gonna do with me tomorrow, and then you can come.”

His words are something forbidden, coaxing you off the edge, daring you to hit that wave of pleasure. Just the thought of your past daydreams make your walls clench around him. 

“I’ll wake you up by sucking your magnificent cock, then I’ll ride you harder than anyone has ever before, and then I’ll ride your face before we have intermittent sex in my office, at least twice.”

You don’t even know what you’re saying, your imagination running winks with the thought of Steve having you in his lap in your desk chair, pressed up against the glass of your office for everyone to see as he fucks you senseless. You’re insatiable. The thought of his dick twitching in your mouth is too much to handle, especially as he brings his thumb down and presses on your clit, moaning unintelligibly at your apparently sexy words, and you feel it. 

Your orgasm crashes over you so hard that you feel it on your bones, thrashing around beneath Steve, screaming out his name as he dudes your high out only seconds before coming too, his muffled cries of your name drowned out as he bites onto the juncture of your neck, bruising it and rendering you unable to wear anything other than polo necks for a good few days. The pleasure he’s given you is unrivalled, and you can’t waist for more.

His body collapses onto yours inelegantly, wrapping you unto his body warmth in your cosy little corner, both forgetting that you’re completely naked in the common area after having rather loud sex. 

“Was that good?” Steve asks sheepishly, fingers running through your tangled hair.

“Yes, incredible. And for you?”

He thinks for a moment before answering, “exquisite, sweetheart.”

Your heart glows a little at his sleepy voice. You run your thumb over the bump of his nose and the blood residue still on his face, but you think you may like Steve a little roughed up. You stay close to each other, breathing together and sharing kisses in the night time, so absorbed in your own bubble that you don’t hear someone come in.

“The fuck is this, Steve?”

Fuck, Bucky. 

“Couldn’t you have been a little better at aiming your clothes? We’re all glad you’re finally together, but loud and untidy as well as sex in the common area? Come on.”

You can hear the humour in his words, but they do hold some sincerity, making you blush and chuckle. Next thing you know, your bra is being thrown at the pair of you, landing in Steve’s messed up hair.

“Thanks buck...” you say with a meek giggle, kissing Steve and removing your bra from his face.

“Round two? My room?” He suggests, eyebrows wiggling. 

“Promise you’ll let me clean you up first?!” You insist, kissing his shoulder and beaming at him. 

“Promise.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #avengers smut #avengers imagine #captain america smut #steve rogers smut

[twinferns]

tfatws finale!!

ik im late i have no excuses

go watch the ep bc there will be lots of spoilers after this line

- is it bad that i don't feel bad for the government people

- no bc sharon in the disguise thing that nat used really made me think it was nat for a hot sec

- IM SCREAMED I LITERALLY SCREAMED WHEN THE SHIELD SMASHED THROUGH THE WINDOW AND SAM FLEW IN HE LOOKKS SO GOOD THE SUIT IS AMAZING IM SO HAPPY

- that's my captain america im so happy and proud

- can bartoc go away thanks

- the way bucky just picks up the phone without questioning it please

- ik karli did not just tell bucky "i fought in wwII" barnes, bucky "i fought thanos twice" barnes that he hasn't fought for something bigger than him

- bucky talking to karli about the deaths and nightmares kinda hurts

- BUCKY GOT A MOTORCYCLE but can he hurry up please

- GOD DAMN sam is so smooth with that shiled yessirrr

- did yall see how the other flag smashers didn't respond at first, the girls are fighting

- YES SAM GETTING RECOGNITION FROM THE CROWD - YES BUCKY ISNT HOLDING BACK I've been waiting for this one turn it up

- can walker stfu and go away with his five minute crafts shield

- how dare they try and manipulate me into feeling bad for walker

- train fall flashbacks!!

- I LOVE SEEING THE SHIELD WORKED INTO IN FLIGHT FIGHTING

- fully thought sam died for a second

- that lady is the real hero/hj

- ok karli i see you that kick combo thing was smooth as fuck

- bucky i know you're not planning on trying to catch the god damn bus

- i really hate when walker does something good i refuse to agree with him

- SAM DID THAT WITHOUT THE SERUM HELL YEAH LOOK AT HIM GO

- no bc im actually crying "that's the black falcon" "nah that's captain america"

- oh so now bucky is playing babysitter for walker

- omg sharon is the power broker im so shocked i never would have guessed wow

- sharon you good broski

- i love sam so much, and the way he continues to reach out to karli and try to help her, and how he refuses to fight her is just a testament to the kind of man he is, and how he's the perfect cap

- can walker shut up with the lincoln quote

- listen, karli is a cool character and i agree with her cause, but her way of doing it is all wrong, and i do think she was too far gone

- that being said i dIDNT WANT HER TO DIE JESUS - sam's speech literally made me tear up. everything he said was so poignant, and i feel like it all needed to be said in the show. he called the officials out respectfully, but also in a way that gave them no room to disagree or wiggle out of it, and with incredible honesty. his speech also applies to today, and this world. and when they panned to isaiah watching, that was it i cried

- catch me over analyzing torres' shot

- i appreciate bucky's casual line at the end, but i would have loved to see him say "let's hear it for captain america" like he did for steve in ca:tfa

- who tf is the old man in the white gloves

- zemo's just vibing in prison, reading books, getting people killed

- oh my god can walker take a hint and leave istg, but he's officially US agent now ig

- ik a lot of people are upset that we never got to see if yori forgave bucky or not, but i think the most crucial part of that visit was the fact that bucky told him, and got closure, not the forgiveness

- no im actually crying he gave the notebook to his therapist i cant do this

- this scene made me sob. how isaiah said sam was special. how sam took him to the museum to show isaiah his statue, and the way isaiah hugged sam. im so glad they did that, bc it was so needed, and isaiah deserves the recognition.

- it's canon bucky is invited to the cookout. he shows up dressed like the rich uncle, and bringing cake

- FINALLY THE SCENE WITH THE KIDS SWINGING ON BUCKY'S ARM I LOVE THAT SCENE also it shows how bucky doesn't see the arm as just a weapon and that he's growing and im so proud of him

- therapy is expensive, but you know what's cheap and easy and gets the job done? rewatching this scene obsessively

- also how bucky isn't hiding his arm? he clearly feels so comfortable and welcome in that community, and my sam and his family and it's so heartwarming

- I SCREAMED THEY CHANGED THE TITLE CARD TO CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

- they said agent carter and i could only think of peggy

- oh so sharon's gonna be like a double agent? i honestly can't wait to see how that plays out

anyways im simoultaneously so happy and said, bc the finale tied things up perfectly, but it's over.

ig we have to wait until june 11 for more content so ig i'll see y'all then

until then, im gonna obsessively watch shadow and bone :)

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #sam wilson #anthony mackie #the falcon #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #john walker #wyatt russel #us agent #baron zemo #helmut zemo #daniel brühl #sharon carter #agent carter #isaiah bradley #eli bradley #captain america #sarah wilson #karli morgenthau #karli tfatws #the flag smashers #torres tfatws #torres