#askmrbarnes

It was early. Very early. Four in the morning to be precise, and Bobbi Morse was picking up paperwork in the hallway on the second floor, "Its too early for this..." she grunted and sat down in her pencil skirt on the floor, sorting through all of the pages to her very long mission report.

Send a ♚. Your character falls asleep on mine, I'll reply with what mine does.

Altogether, there wasn't a head in the world more familiar on Steve's shoulder. Continuing his drawing unhindered, the soldier mentally thanked his friend for choosing to sit to his left, so the pencil in his right hand could move freely. 

Eventually, as the light began to fade from the room with the setting sun, Steve had to carefully keep Bucky supported while he stood, using both hands to keep his sleeping friend from toppling over. He barely jostled Bucky at all in laying him down on the couch, cheek pressed into one of the throw pillows. 

Steve couldn't very well send him home, he didn't have the heart to wake him. 

If we kissed:

[] This wouldn’t happen.

[] Oh disgusting.

[x] Again, again.

[x] Kiss you back.

[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.

[] Slap/Push you away.

If you asked me out I’d say:

[] Um no.

[x] YES.

[x] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[] No.

[] Ew.

[x] Sure.

[] YES.

Sex?:

[x] Let’s do it.

[] No. You can’t handle my d.

[] FUCK YES.

[] No.

Should you reblog this?:

[] Yes. I want to send you one.

[x] Yes.