Pragma(tic)12: He Gets The Visit Of His Life

Pragma(tic) 12: He Gets the Visit of His Life

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 4350

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 11: She Takes a Stand

Bucky had said that he’d give (y/n) a day at least to get back on her feet in terms of work, but he wasn’t sure exactly how much time she wanted. Was just one enough, or did she need more?

Eight days had passed since he’d left (y/n) at the border and, sappy and cliche as it might be, he missed her. He missed her smile and her laugh and even her sour glares she gave him when he said something stupid (which was often if he was being honest, but he only did it to get those damn glares from her).

He wondered how she was doing without him. Not that she needed him or anything—she was perfectly capable of living on her own—but she had told him she had a lot of work to do and he was curious to see how she was doing. He could only imagine how boring the paperwork was. He’d sat there and watched her do it one day and he nearly fell asleep. He felt so bad for her if that’s what she was stuck doing. Maybe he could rescue her and bring her to the island. Get her some sun. If there was one thing that was good about being in the Mediterranean, it was that it was sunny year-round.

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It’s my personal headcanon that chaoticdumbass!reader pulls a jake peralta when interrogating difficult hydra operatives by playing the guitar and screeching at them. She prefaces it by telling them she’s had two 5 hour energy shots and gives zero fucks as to how long it’s gonna take. The field where she grows her fucks is BARREN.

YOU WANT IT, YOU GOT IT.

-

The metal door crashes open, rattling the steel cage of the room. You spin in—triple axel with no clear trajectory—and barely stick the landing.

Handcuffed to the reinforced table is Someguy Whatshisface. A Hydra waterboy or something.

“Close the door.” The intercom buzzes with Steve’s voice. Two-way glass and all, this guy’s gone through the ringer with Natasha and she got fuck-all. Bucky already pulled out the cyanide capsule embedded in his incisor, so…

Now it’s your turn.

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tapestry 👑 XXI

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The reader panics.

Note: Lol, y’all are gonna hate the reader bc you only seem to get more and more annoyed by her decisions but also, I’m just going with it so here’s to winging it. Enjoy the adventure.

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

masterlist

You couldn’t recall leaving the Fort. A fog fell over you as you watched the guards wrap up the corpse of the dead queen and load her onto a cart. It only began to clear as you rushed through the halls of the castle; your guard and maid just behind you. A deathly pall filled your lungs and made it hard to breathe.

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“Is that right? You didn’t mean to watch me like a little pervert?” he speaks in faux apology, the façade eviscerated as his attention flickers to where your dress is ruffled and there’s a glistening trailing down your inner thighs. The man you known to be your best friend’s happy-go-lucky father has been unhinged into a beast of carnal hunger as a result of you. “Is that why you’re making a mess on my floor?” His jaw ticks. “No, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed watching me jack off, wondering if it’d be even half as good as being buried inside you—but we both know it isn’t.”

part one of two. in which you watch your best friend’s father masturbate, and he catches you. (includes best friend’s father!bucky x you, age gap mention, masturbation, voyeurism and exhibitionsm, dirty talk, blowjob—part two will include daddy kink by request of kat @angel-fire, reader receiving oral, size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex.)

—

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay in tonight?” your best friend’s father, James call-me-Bucky Barnes, calls out when he hears the click of heels descending down the staircase, and silences the rumble of his mixer. “I mean, what sounds better, some stupid nightclub or my super awesome brownies?” 

“Some stupid night club,” his daughter answers immediately with a cheeky grin, sashaying ahead of you in a modest but flirty outfit to grab her clutch from the kitchen island. The last thing she needed to go out acquired, she glances at you for additional support in the evening plan. “Right?” 

Strolling behind her, you give an unsure hum. “I don’t know,” you say with an upturn at a corner of your lips. “Your daddy’s baking is pretty convincing.” 

Sinful in a stained apron and chocolate smeared on a high cheekbone, a likewise dripping whisk in one hand, he turns around to face you. His innately affable blue eyes are bright with flattery until landing on your scantily-clad form, then the initial shock darkens to something that lances satisfaction in your gut. 

But he hides fairly quickly, dissolving back into his easy going demeanor (you know, like he isn’t imaging that tiny dress in a puddle around your ankles). He clears his throat with a reinforced smile. “See! Thank you,” he addresses graciously before hastening to divert his gaze. “C’mere, and taste it, kid. Then tell me you’d rather go out.” 

The twenty-one-year-old chuckles at the lame attempt and shakes her head. “No, thanks, dad,” she speaks as she checks her things and ruffles through to ensure she’s got her phone charger, pepper spray and condoms. When it turns out she does, the bag clips close with a clink. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time by yourself,” she says absentmindedly before heading into the den for her car keys.

“Could I, Mr. Barnes?” you ask innocently with a step forward, blinking up at him. 

Seemingly no longer unaffected by the jut of your chest in a black halter top, he regards you warmly. “Of course!” He beckons you over and picks up a wooden spoon to dip into the concoction; in the process, he spills a drop on his opposing thumb, but he pays it no mind. A sample on the spoon, he offers it to you with a beam. “And, you don’t have to be so formal. Call me—”

Instead of taking the utensil, your hand curls around his and pulls down, cutting him off when your lips wrap around his thumb. Doe-eyes locked on his, you sink low to the webbing as your cheeks hollow. Rich sugar explodes on your tongue, invoking a soft moan that has his pupils dilating black. 

Oh, God, you think with a shiver down your spine. 

The look on his face is unlike what you’ve witnessed in the wholesome thirty-nine year old. It’s hungry and desire ridden like his next course of action is to hike up your dress and bend you over the counter; like he’s willing to risk it all to see if the treat between your legs is as sweet as his baking. 

You finally ease off him with a soft pop, lashes fluttering with a barely suppressed smile. “That is really good,” you murmur mischievously, and for added effect, you trail your finger down his chest, through two layers of cloth to feel the hard muscle beneath. “If it were up to me, I’d spend the night with you.” 

Before he can react, a call rips through your interaction: “Yo, let’s go!” his daughter sing songs from the foyer. “Time is wasting, and I would like to get on the dance floor while the night is still young, thank you very much!” 

Disappointment deflates your shoulders as you backpedal. “Have a good night, Mr. Barnes,” you intend to part with: you spin to follow out, but your wrist is caught, tugged firmly so you stumble into his strong embrace with a small squeak. “Mr. Barnes—!”

Two big hands steady you roughly, and he’s flushed you against him. Then he slides down your backside to knead your ass, pawing at you through the soft fabric. His fingers crudely squeeze your cheeks; his pads dig in low and spread, rasping over your puckered rosebud repetitively until he’s dwindled you into a gasping mess. “F - fuck,” he breathes in a borderline growl, jaw clenching as you shudder against him and the sensations deluging you. 

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Call Sign: Renaissance // 07

07. Redemption

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Chapter Summary: Dealing with the loss of Sam, you and Steve fight to take down those responsible.

Word Count: 2,444

Warnings: angst, violence, mentions of war, blood

A/N: I cannot apologize enough for keeping you waiting. Inspiration finally came and I could not be prouder of the result. I hope you enjoy!

If you happen to be a Latinx reader of mine, feel free to correct any language mistakes I may have made! In a rush to get this out, I didn’t have my friends proof the Spanish!

The last words you spoke to him are echoing in Steve’s ears as he considers his next.

Take care of my best friend.

Of course, Sam is one of his best friends, too. After coming out of the ice into a new millennium, Steve was fairly certain he would never relate to anyone or anything ever again. Then he met Sam.

Right from the start, there was this unspoken understanding. Two separate lives lived decades apart, but so very familiar. From a common bond, a friendship grew - a friendship that Steve knew he didn’t deserve. 

Sam was willing to risk it all for me and this is where it brought him.

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Unsportsmanlike Conduct

Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader, Dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s tired of waiting for the shy Reader to admit her feelings for him.

Warning: 18+, dub-con, sex pollen consumed, unprotected sex. 

Words: 5473

a/n: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ A Thousand Words challenge for her 5.5k followers. Congrats, Sweets-  you make our heroes into the most vile villains. Thank you for hosting!

prompt: #21 hands.gif  

“Grab my wiener,” the deep voice to your right stated evenly.

Coughing into your drink, your eyes bulged at his words. Clearing your throat you tried to find your bearings as the crowd cheered around you both. Why were they encouraging him?

“Wha-what?” meekly asking, too embarrassed to look him in the eye as you wiped away the splashed liquid off your lap.  

“Put your hands around it.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, “The hot dog. Pass it to me, please.”

The crowd jumped and cheered out of their seats shadowing you both as the team took first, then second, third, and home.

Taking a moment to close your eyes and will away your discomfort, the crowd settled down while the next batter made his way to the mound. You turned toward the aisle way and held out your hand to become the next boxcar in the makeshift stadium food train. Before you could turn back around to Bucky and hand him his order, you felt the warmth of his breath and his double entendre slap against your cheek, “Hold out your hand for Steve’s wiener too, doll.”

You sat up even straighter and abruptly pushed the hot dog and the next one into Bucky’s chest, not concerned if you stained his shirt with the relish and mustard.

“Oh, oh, oh! Easy there, darlin’. You’re making my dribble out between those buns. No one wants a premature dribble.”

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