Bucky hated Taft on sight. The man was everything he wasn’t. Slick, suave, charming. Once Penny had navigated the gauntlet that was her outer office area, thanking people for their cards, or emailed well-wishes, Taft was lying in wait for her in her office.
Bucky new his face, of course, but still had to stop himself from reaching for a weapon when he pushed open the door and found the man sitting in Penny’s chair with his fancy shoes perched on her desk.
His shoes were the one part of his wardrobe Bucky had refused to compromise. He’d polished the boots to a high shine, but they were still steel toed and military ready. He had a second pair designed by Stark for fancy dress, still comfortable, still steel toed and combat ready, but they just weren’t the same as the heavy boots he knew would do severe damage if he were to kick motherfucker Taft in his prissy face.
“Help you?” Bucky growled, holding Penny back.
“Penelope, my dear! I was so worried about you!” Taft cried when Penny came to a stop in the doorway.
Super cute. Can’t wait to see where you go with this.
I gotta say, I’m freaking out a little bit here. I absolutely LIVE for your writing. And here you are, commenting favorably on one of my fics.
Thank you so much!
Aww, sweets! You’re awesome and it’s absolutely adorable and I would ask you to tag me, but I don’t think it will allow you to with my blog being explicit, but I’m following you now so I won’t miss a thing.
If you’d rather follow the blog where I only post my writing, it’s @mad-for-marvel. I normally don’t post a ton over here [posts are on a queue], so I don’t think your dash will get too clogged up.
Pairings: Thor x Reader x Loki | Word Count: 5616 Warnings: Angst, Smut, NSFW, fluff
The water had done little to help soothe the ache in your heart. You’d made dinner for slightly more than one, cleaned the kitchen, and after changing into Loki’s sweater and Thor’s sweatpants you made your way into the library like you did every night. The fireplace lit with the flick of a switch, and you settled onto the wide lounge chair with the comforters from Thor and Loki’s beds.
You couldn’t choose a room. Couldn’t pick one over the other. But you were desperate for the scent of them and found sleeping on the big couch wrapped in both of their bedding served you well enough, though you dreaded the day their scent faded.
With the fire burning, you picked up the latest of the books you were working your way through. Loki’s library was vast, and you knew it would take years to read them all, but he’d touched them, read them, absorbed these pages. You would read until you couldn’t keep your eyes open, then you would sleep with the fire burning to keep the darkness at bay.
You couldn’t keep the loneliness or the sadness away, but at least you could fight off the demons which came in the dark to torment your mind with the screams of your dying loves.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC | Word Count: 4678 Warnings: Language and snark
An hour later, Penny opened the door and came face to face with a seething Bucky.
“You don’t ever lock me outta a room again!”
The anger on him had Penny cringing back. Shocked by the intensity and already exhausted from the medication, she hadn’t the energy nor the will to deal with him again.
“Please don’t yell at me,” she whispered. “Not right now.”
Pairing: Thor x Reader, Loki x Reader | Word Count: 14454 Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, NSFW, D/s themes
A month of dating hadn’t quelled the desire you and Thor held for each other. Since the night you’d gone for your massage and come home with sexually satisfying bruises and a date for the next night, things had been going strong between the two of you.
So strong when the invite for the city’s charity gala came through your office, you snapped a picture and shot him a text, asking if he’d be willing to be your plus one.
He’d agreed, but only so long as he could buy the tickets. When you’d protested, stating you’d asked him and it was no big deal, he’d scoffed, something incredibly hard to make come across in a text message. He argued he could just pull his tux from his closet whereas he knew damn well you’d be buying something new to wear for the night. He wasn’t going to make you spend thrice the money you needed to.
Though it was sweet, in a caveman sort of way, you conceded graciously because he wasn’t wrong. The charity event was pricey at a couple hundred bucks a plate, but the cause was a good one. Not having to spend four hundred to get into the gala meant you could get a dress and shoes.
Hot damn! 🔥🔥First of all, that dress sounds amazing and so does Thor and Loki’s house- your descriptions always amaze me and I can literally paint a beautiful picture in my head from your words. How is it possible to handle the hotness of these two!!!?! Eeeeeeeeee😇
This is all so perfect and I can’t even begin to give an amazing review, a review that this fice deserves. I love it all so much.
Summary: The search for a new massage therapist takes a turn when you accidentally throw your phone full of porn at his feet.
Pairing: Thor Odinson x Fem!Reader | Word Count: 7881 Warnings: language, NSFW, smut
When parts of your body which weren’t supposed to hurt had begun to seize up and ache, you knew it was time. Time to bite the bullet and find a new massage therapist. Finding a new therapist though, someone who was good enough to fix your aches but not so rough they hurt you, was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Your longtime therapist and friend had recently retired after ten years in the industry, and though you didn’t begrudge her the rest, you did hate her just a little for forcing you to begin the search to find someone new. It had taken ages to find her, one bad massage after another nearly making you give up until you’d stumbled upon her small clinic and instantly clicked. Clicking and being friendly was one thing, but when she’d also proven to be a magician at muscle manipulation, it was like the angels sang.
Now, here you were, on the hunt again and only a little bitter about it.
Knowing it was likely going to be a long hunt and a lot of crappy massages to find what you needed, you pulled up Google and did a search for clinics in the area.
This was unbelievable, amazing, hot, beautiful, funny, and did I say HOT. This was as good as any published work, seriously. This was just…..so well-written in SO MANY WAYS! Great job – I will reblog for infinity! – Steph
I’m gonna need the number to Viking Wellness. STAT. I also need a cold shower. And a bottle of wine.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC | Word Count: 3887 Warnings: Swearing
“No.”
“Bucky,” Penny sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll be right there,” she said and pointed at the chair across the room.
“No dice, Pen. You gotta be where I can see you.” Bucky’s hard-eyed stare held no room for arguing. “You’re all gung-ho to kit me out in this finery, you haul your ass back there and stay where I can see you.”
She threw up her hands. “Fine! But this is stupid! The shop is closed, and the only one in here besides us is Sandy.”
Summary: Penny Rogers is in a bind. Someone out there wants to kill her. With her brother, Captain Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Hero and First Avenger, fretting in her ear, she gives in to his demands and accepts a bodyguard in the form of one James Buchanan Barnes, a Sergeant with a metal arm and Steve’s best friend.
As they work together to keep Penny alive and figure out who wants her dead, can they both ignore the past, or will the attraction rising between them force them both to face their mistakes head-on?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC | Word Count: 2664 Warnings: Blood, attempted murder, swearing
Her heels clicked loudly in the empty parking garage as she dug for her keys. Such was the bane of carrying a large bag. While it gave her the space she needed to put in everything which may be required in the course of a day, it made it virtually impossible to find shit all, especially something small like her keys.
With a quiet curse, Penelope – Penny – Rogers dropped to her knees six cars away from her practical black sedan where she upended the bag on the concrete. Thankfully, it was late and there was no one around to witness her less than elegant search through the pile of junk in her purse.
Lipstick. Mascara. Pens, pens, and more pens. One would think she would be able to find a pen when she needed it, but not so much.
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