#werefromfinchley

[demonofwinterrp]

"Why are you in my bed?" ~werefromfinchley

The question made him turn around, looking directly at Susan. “Uh... You... Last night? You invited me in and we ended up kissing. Don’t you remember that?” As far as Bucky knew, it had been entirely mutual, with Susan participating in everything, giving Bucky clear consent. But if she was regretting it now, Bucky would flee, leave her alone after apologizing profusely. Yet from what he knew there’d been no alcohol in her system, though she could have been drinking before he came in.

[demonofwinterrp]

✎ = speaking in a different language || Closed RP

werefromfinchley:

Susan arched an eyebrow at the sound of French cursing behind her. When she spotted Bucky, she smiled wryly. “That isn’t particularly appropriate language, you know,” she pointed out with a chuckle.

The raid sheets weren’t looking good, Schmidt knew where they were likely to go next. It seemed recently that he was a few steps ahead of them, and, much as Bucky hated to think it, it seemed there was a mole among the 107th. Swearing colourfully, using the words Dernier had taught him, was the only way Bucky would let his frustration show. He hadn’t realized Ms. Susan was around once again. “Miss,” he said, nodding to her, a sly grin on his face. “With the exception of yourself, and Miss Peggy Carter, I’m not really around people that warrant appropriate language.”

[demonofwinterrp]

☾ = being found shirtless || Closed RP

werefromfinchley:

“Oh!” Susan blinked in surprise as she walked into the main room of the S.S.R. office. She hadn’t anticipated seeing anyone else here. Certainly not a man without his shirt on. When she realized that it was Sgt. Barnes, the friend of Captain America, she blushed even harder. “I’m sorry! I didn’t expect to find anyone else in here…”

His chest hurt, a bullet wound having grazed his side, and he hated the stinging pain that radiated from it. But there had been much worse in his life, even worse from bullies out behind old Joe’s Deli shop. His son had a mean right hook, as both he and Steve knew from being on the receiving end of it more than once. When the office door opened it surprised the Sargent, causing his head to whip up, looking at who entered before him. “Oh,” he sighed out, casting around for his shirt, grabbing at it coolly. “Sorry ‘bout that, miss. Didn’t think anyone else would be comin’ in here for a while.” He explained, pulling the white fabric over his head. “You don’t have to apologize, I was the one prancing around half-clothed.”