Someone Kick My Butt Into Writing..

Someone kick my butt into writing..

source : ‘avengers:endgame’ cast play ‘most likely to | mtv news

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reblogs are appreciated🤓

Worrying for Two

Pairing: Winterhawk x Reader

Warnings: Injuries

Squares Filled: Playful Relationship for @star-spangled-bingo​ - Picture (K4) for @buckybarnesbingo​ and Free Space for @winterhawkbingo​

Word Count: 1000ish

A/N: Sorry for the spam y’all. Trying to blackout a bingo last minute! 

Betaed by: no one - all mistakes are mine

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Your eyes widened as the door opened and your two boyfriends were almost carrying each other through the door. Bucky had a cut over his left eye and a limp on his right leg. Clint looked like he lost a fight with a rhino. He had a huge bruise over his right eye, a split lip, a limp and was crouched over as if his ribs were hurting him. 

“Oh my God!” You jumped from the couch, heading straight for them, “I thought it was just training today not a mission?”

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Social media Au- Part 11

P.s. I would like to do another Twitter part but only if you help me with questions to tweet.

Taglist: @sesamepancakes @slytherinambitious

reunited.

Summary: A few years ago, Walter Marshall had a friend named Skylar Holland while in SWAT. She was someone that he could trust and always go to. But he started pulling away, pushing her away, and ultimately moving from SWAT to become a Detective. Now, after transferring to become a Detective, Skylar and Marshall have to work together again. 

Warnings: Vague talk of attempted murder/murder, kidnapping of underage girls, my bad smut writing.

A/N: Sorry if it sucks, but I dig it. 

“Marshall, you and Holland will be working on a case together.”

That sentence is still bouncing around in my head. How could the captain possibly believe that we could work together? He saw what it was like when I started, we can hardly stand to be in the same room together.

Not anymore.

“This is some fucking shite.” I mumble, rubbing my face with my hands.

I jump when a harsh slap hits my desk. “Yup. But I guess we are stuck with it.” I look up, seeing Marshall stand there, arms crossed, glaring at me.

“Please, Marshall, come on in and make yourself at home in my office.” I say sarcastically, pulling the file toward me.

No sound comes from the man. He just stands there, watching me.

“You look like shit.” I say, not looking up, reading.

A loud, deep exhale was all that could be heard from him.

We used to be able to talk shit to each other. To joke around with and have a laugh. What happened to the Marshall I used to know? What happened to my friend?

“So, there is one survivor. Is she awake enough to talk?” I ask, looking up at him.

“I called the hospital before seeing you, they think she should be awake by the time we get there.” He replies, looking around my office. Boxes and boxes galore. “You’ve been here a week and you still haven’t unpacked?”

I stand, grabbing my coat. “Careful Marshall, I might just start to think you care.” I say, walking past him and out to the hall.

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A Spooky Kind of Love

Prompt/Summary: Old Mansion

Pairing: Winterhawk x reader

Warnings: Jump scare, kinda. Clint’s an ass. A few swear words

Word Count: 4924 words

A/N:  I wrote this for Kari’s Marvelous Halloween Challenge ( @until-theend-oftheline ). I’m tagging some new people, so if you didn’t want to be tagged in this, please let me know and I won’t tag you in the future. This is my first time writing Winterhawk, so feedback would be much appreciated!

Y/N plopped down in the middle of the huge bed, her muscles screaming at her from the long day as she finally let herself relax. Pillows were scattered and the duvet was messily thrown to a side, giving the bed the aspect of a nest. She snuggled further into the comfortable mess when she heard the door to the adjacent bathroom opening and closing, and soft footsteps walking over the carpeted floor. When she raised her head to look, she noticed Clint, wearing black sweatpants and a gray shirt, with his hair slightly disheveled, as if he had been napping just before she’d arrived.

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