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softbiker · 4 years

Text

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: some language, excessive sun exposure, nudity (but no smut)

Word count: 5.4k (why am i like this)

A/N: This fic is very self-indulgent - it’s short on plot and long on summer vibes. Also, this is a reader insert fic, but I hate writing Y/N and using second person narration, so reader has been given an ‘Avenger alias’. Hope you like it. :) Basically, Bucky deserves this, and we deserve for summer to never end. <3 I hope you all enjoy it, and as always let me know what you think!!

P.S. here’s the playlist inspired by this fic

“Geronimo!”

Sam’s battle cry is the only warning before he takes the plunge; Bucky scrambles from his place on the boat deck, shielding his book with his towel and his hands in a last ditch effort to save the pages from water-logged ruin. He scowls as Sam resurfaces, breaching the water with a laugh and blinking to clear his eyes.

“Hey - watch it, bird brain.” Thankfully, his copy of Ender’s Game remains safe and dry, despite Sam’s carelessness. Wiggling his hips, Bucky scoots further back on his towel, away from the edge of the boat and hopefully out of the splash zone.

“You’re the one complaining about getting wet at the lake, Barnes,” Sam quips back, lazily swimming towards the ladder. “I’m not to blame here.”

“Doesn’t mean I want my book getting wet,” Bucky mutters. A bead of sweat slides down his neck - several beads actually; he can feel how flushed his face is in the dog day heat of a July afternoon. As he lays on his belly, pineapple printed beach towel spread underneath him; his sunglasses slowly slide down the bridge of his nose, his face too slick with sweat to hold them up properly.

“C’mon, guys,” Steve sighs. He couldn’t look less concerned if he tried - long limbs sprawled in the water, his star-spangled ass wedged firmly in a neon blue floatie, a can of beer in one hand. A pink patch of color has bloomed on his chest and spreads across his shoulders with each passing hour, despite regular reapplication of his sunscreen. “Can we not do this all weekend?”

“Mm, I’m with Steve,” a voice pipes up, languid and sleepy, from the sun deck along the top of the boat. “I don’t wanna listen to you two bickering for the next three days.”

Bucky’s mouth goes even dryer and his cheeks burn with a different kind of heat, tongue thick in his mouth at the sound of her voice. Embarrassment creeps up in him - why does he always let Sam’s ribbing get to him, damn it?

“Hey - he started it, Angel,” Sam holds up his hands in surrender, his own towel draped across damp shoulders. There’s a crystal droplet of water on the tip of his nose. “I’m just trying to have a good time.”

She peeks over the ledge from her coveted sunbathing spot, pushing her oversized sunglasses up on her head so she can fix him with a skeptical pout. Bucky rolls a couple inches sideways, leaning on one elbow to lift his gaze up to her. The sun blazes behind her, casting a vivid white corona of heat; the baby blue lurex of her bikini glitters against her skin, her limbs shining with coconut oil and sweat. She’s gathered her hair up on top of her head, but a few adorable baby hairs have escaped at the nape of her neck and her temples, curling sweetly in the humid, hazy air.

She’s only been with the team for a few months - new to the Avengers, and to superhero-ing in general. Operating alone for years, and cleverly flying under the radar, she’d found Tony Stark waiting for her in a refugee camp on the coast of Greece with a disturbingly complete dossier on her, as well as a job offer. Within moments of meeting her, the team dubbed her “Angel” - in slight awe at the way her glowing fingers healed Clint’s broken ones during their brief introductory handshake. From then on, she’s been their undisputed MVP, saving their accident-prone skins so many times they’ve already lost count.

“You know - that smells like bullshit, Sam.” The barest hint of a smirk tugs at her mouth, and even squinting in the sun her eyes are bright.

Sam sputters, playing at mock offense.

“Excuse me?” he says, a hand pressed to his heart.

“Just leave Bucky alone,” Angel rolls her eyes, letting her sunglasses drop back to shield her from the glare off the water. “And Steve? You might want to use a higher SPF, or you’ll need me to heal that later.”

Satisfied, she stretches back on her towel up on the sun deck, one arm long and lazy above her head, the other reaching for her phone - restarting one of her podcasts, Bucky thinks. Tiny wireless headphones tucked in her ears, she’s always listening to them; there’s a true crime one that she loves, but he can’t remember the name. Looking down at his chest, Steve seems to just notice the ripening sunburn on his skin. With a sigh, he flips himself out of the inner tube and into the water, swimming the short distance to the boat and pulling himself up the ladder in search of sunscreen.

Bucky ducks his head back down to his book. He tries to read, focus his eyes on the words in front of him - but, surprisingly, he’s almost too relaxed. He feels heavy, lazy, down to his bones; his eyelids droop and the words on the page run together. It’s not unpleasant, though - the heat has soaked right through his muscles, and for the first time in ages he finds that he’s not sore, not aching. Just a little tired, like a cat in the sun. Stretching and settling on his towel, he tucks his head in the nest of his folded arms and closes his eyes.

When Angel had proposed a lake weekend, inviting the team out to her family’s place in the woods, everyone had leapt at the idea. A few days spent in pure laziness, hours wiled away on the water or with a book, with no one to rescue and no battles to fight - it sounded too good to be true. Pure summer paradise.

Beneath him, the boat rocks dully on small waves. He feels himself lulled into a trance as his body sways gently in the same rhythm, back and forth. Paradise, Bucky thinks as he drifts off.

**********

That night, the sun lingering late in the sky, cicadas humming in the trees, the guys grill out on the deck at the cabin. It smells like heaven, fresh corn and burgers and mushrooms; inside the house, Wanda slices tomatoes and Angel stirs caramelized onions on the stove. At the island, Natasha patiently mashes avocados for her famous guacamole - made famous by the fact that it’s frequently her only contribution to family dinners.

“Wow, Nat, I think you actually got a tan,” Wanda smirks. “Right there, on your arm?”

“That’s just a freckle,” Nat scowls. “Which is why I use high SPF and don’t lay in the sun for hours.”

“Hey, at least you won’t get skin cancer,” Angel laughs, not looking up from her onions. Their smell wafts through the kitchen, mouth-watering and tangy sweet, mixed with the fresh and smoky air from the open window to the deck. Outside, the laughter around the grill bursts in a loud crescendo, Sam slapping Clint’s back as he doubles over in a fit of giggles.

“Sounds like they’re having fun out there.” Nat raises a sarcastic eyebrow as she glances out the window. Angel turns to look, too, her eyes pulled to the soft glow of the porch under the string lights overhead, the setting sun just beginning to burn red and gold through the trees.

Sliding off her barstool, Wanda skips over to the sliding screen door that leads out to the deck, pulling it open just enough to stick her head through.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, nearly shouting to be heard over the boys’ loud hoots of laughter. None of them answer, still caught in the flush of whatever hilarity had set them all going. Rolling her eyes, Wanda tries again. “Hey! Are we at least ready to eat? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid, we’re pulling ‘em off the grill right now,” Clint sighs, wiping his eyes. Even from her place by the stove, Angel notices Bucky’s bright open smile, so rarely seen it makes her do a double take. His color his high, his tanned cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink; his hair is still wet from the shower, combed back from his forehead in a way that’s almost boyish, the tips just beginning to dry in soft brown curls.

Swallowing thickly, Angel drags her eyes back down to the onions and turns the burner off.

They gather around the long picnic table on the deck, sliding and shuffling around each other, a veritable summer feast laid out in front of them. The boys at the grill didn’t disappoint: Sam proudly slides a platter of corn on the cob next to the kebabs he made, while Clint carries a tray piled high with fresh burgers (and turkey burgers, at Nat’s request). Toppings and sides come single file from the kitchen - fresh sliced tomatoes, crisp lettuce, fried plantains and guacamole. Bucky’s mouth waters with each new dish that arrives at the table, his knees jammed underneath the table next to Steve.

“This spot taken?”

Angel smiles as she slides into the seat across from him; she had washed her face when they got in from the lake, fresh and clean, and pulled an old college t-shirt over her swimsuit. The scent of her coconut lotion drifts across the table. Bucky clears his throat.

“N-no. Go ahead.” He wishes his smiles were half as warm as hers, half as easy and sweet.

Her nose scrunches as she beams a little wider at him and stretches her legs underneath the table, her ankle resting against his calf. The brush of their skin sets Bucky’s nerves on fire, and he keeps expecting her to move, to flinch away. But her leg stays where it is, resting against his, as they laugh and eat with their friends; and every so often when her eyes catch his he wonders if he’s imagining the spark in them.

**********

If it’s possible to get a concussion from tubing, Sam will have one by the end of the day.

Bucky’s head is already swimming and dizzy from being thrown from the inner tube half a dozen times, skipping across the surface of the lake like a stone - he’d always thought Steve was a wild driver on a bike, but in a boat, with two of his friends pulled behind and gripping the handles of a rubber tube? Steve is an absolute maniac.

Inside the boat, Angel leans against Steve’s seat and grips the railing to keep her balance, watching the boys behind them on their wild ride from hell.

“Are you sure you should be going this fast?” she speaks up, a little nervous. “Do you even have a boating license?”

“Don’t need one - I was born before the cutoff date, got grandfathered in,” Steve yells back over the engine and the rush of the waves underneath them. Glancing back and seeing Bucky and Sam still hanging on, he cuts the wheel sharply, the boat arcing through the water in a donut that sends them cutting over their own wake. From the boat, it’s a mild discomfort, the deck bouncing on each wave; from the tube, it’s game over.

She winces as it happens - the two of them go completely airborne on the tube, and with a final scream Sam loses his grip and tumbles sideways, knocking Bucky off into the water with him. Without their weight, the tube sways in the wind for a moment before it drops back to the water, upside down and empty.

“They’re down!” Wanda laughs, and Steve cuts the throttle down, idling slowly back to where the bright blue and green of life jackets bobs in the water a hundred feet away.

As they pull up alongside Sam and Bucky, Wanda drops the ladder and Angel makes her way to the back of the boat, pulling the rope to bring the tube back up to the boat.

“Oof,” Sam huffs as he hauls himself up the ladder, immediately unsnapping the buckles on his lifejacket. “I think I’m done - yeah. Yeah, I’m definitely done.” He shrugs the lifejacket off his shoulders and drops onto a seat at the front of the boat. “Hey, why don’t you get out there and let me drive, Steve?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve smiles innocently behind his sunglasses, his hair windblown and spiky. “I think I’m just getting the hang of driving this thing.”

“I think you need a little more practice, punk,” Bucky groans from the ladder. “But not with me back there. I thought Hydra scrambled my brains enough but-” he grabs a towel and scrubs the side of his head, trying to shake the water from his ears. “-you’ve got me mixed up like a fruit salad up here. Jesus.”

There’s always a downbeat, an awkward breath, when he makes jokes about Hydra. Steve winces a little, and Sam purses his lips; Wanda looks away, pushing her hair behind her ears. Bucky feels his cheeks flush, frustrated and embarrassed.

“It’s probably just early-onset Alzheimer’s,” Angel giggles, breaking the silence. “I mean, you’re pushing 102? 103?”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Bucky narrows his eyes at her.

“I don’t look a day over 30, you know,” he huffs, feigning offense as he hip checks her on his way to the cooler for a beer.

“Ok, boomer,” she sighs. She’s wearing a necklace today, a single cowrie shell nestled at her collarbone, and she’s changed out the blue bikini for a tie-dye one that makes him thinks of cotton candy. With his metal hand, he snaps the cap off his beer and takes a swig, raising a brow towards her in question. Angel shakes her head. “I’m good - but I’ll take a water.”

They pass around the bottles of water, and a couple of snacks; it’s only early afternoon, and they’re loathe to waste any of the beautiful day, all of them sprawled across the boat, sunning themselves liberally. Wanda wonders aloud what they should do, if everyone is done getting roughed up on the tube.

“Well, we could drive around to the waterfall - maybe go cliff jumping,” Angel suggests, wiping watermelon juice from her chin. The huge Tupperware bowl of fruit they brought has gone down swinging between her and Steve, Sam picking through to find the strawberries.

“There’s a waterfall?” Steve sits up, a slice of cantaloupe in his hand. Angel nods, picking a seed from her teeth.

“Yeah, it’s around that way - not too far from here,” she turns and points around a bend in the shoreline, towards the north end of the lake. “We could at least just take a drive over there - the breeze would be nice.”

They all agree on that - it’s a cloudless day, brilliant and sweltering without the slightest wind to stir up the air across the water. Sam swipes his brow, more damp with sweat now than water, and takes a swig of his beer.

“Let’s go, Angel.” He raises his bottle in salute. “Before we all die of heatstroke.”

It’s a small waterfall, just a stream coming down from the hills surrounding the lake, and running faster today because of the last week’s rain; but the cove is lush and blooming with trees overhead, humming with the lazy buzz of insects and busy calls of birds. Angel kills the engine near the entrance and lets Steve drop the anchor - the water here is clean and deep, and the cliff face rises stark and bright out of the water, the rocks stained with age.

“Oh, wow - it’s so pretty,” Wanda smiles, snapping a picture of the waterfall with her phone.

“And quiet,” Bucky observes. He can’t hear the sounds of other boats on the water, the cries of other swimmers on the lake.

“Yeah, nobody ever comes back here,” Angel shrugs. “It’s kind of a secret little place - my family are always the only people here.”

One by one, they peel off their shirts and tug their lifejackets on, diving into the sun-warmed water. Angel leads the way towards the waterfall, showing them all a small break in the rocks with a natural set of steps and handholds she found with her brothers, and they climb up the rocks bit by bit, happily exploring.

“You ever climb all the way up there?” Sam asks, pointing to the top of the waterfall, where an outcropping of the rock juts out over the water.

“Yeah, a couple of times,” she nods, looking up. “We used to jump from the top. I never liked it much - I’m a little scared of heights.”

“Race you Tin Man,” Sam punches Bucky’s arm, and without waiting for confirmation, takes a running head start at the cliff wall, jumping up to the first handhold he sees and working his way up bit by bit. Bucky scowls, but not one to ignore a challenge, he follows close behind, overtaking Sam in a matter of minutes as he scales the wall with just his hands.

Hauling himself up over the edge, he stands above the waterfall, looking out over the lake. It’s still only mid-afternoon, and the glare of the sun on the water is nearly blinding. Far away, tiny boats circle and weave across the surface, their paths leaving figure 8’s in the waves. Below, he hears Wanda and Steve and Angel talking, cheering Sam on as he climbs the last few feet to the top.

“I win,” Bucky smiles as Sam’s huffing and sweaty face appears over the edge of the rock.

“I hate you,” Sam pants, but he takes the hand Bucky offers and scrambles up to stand beside him.

“Hell of a view.”

Sam props an arm on Bucky’s shoulder, an endlessly annoying habit he has, but Bucky refrains from smacking his hand away. They stare out at the water as Sam catches his breath.

“Yeah, it is.”

**********

When they finally make their way back to the boat, the sun has crept along the horizon towards the late afternoon angle, and their arms and legs ache from climbing the cliff walls over and over. Wanda massages her shoulders, slicking her hair into a little wet bun on top of her head. Angel follows behind her, dropping her lifejacket on her seat and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

Last one up the ladder is Bucky, his arms heavy in the water, eyes stinging, but happily tired from a long day spent doing nothing important. He can’t remember the last time he got to do something like this - just be, just have fun, nothing hanging over his head and no thoughts of tomorrow. He pulls up the ladder after him, folding it onto the deck, and perches on the edge of a seat next to Angel, wondering where his towel has gone.

“Oh - oh, Bucky, you’re hurt,” Angel sits up and leans closer to him. He holds his breath, her face inches from his own - but her eyes are down on his hand.

His flesh hand, which is currently bleeding all over his bright blue swim trunks.

Shit. He hadn’t even noticed - hadn’t felt it at all, but he must have cut it on the climb. The cut runs cleanly through the pink flesh of his palm, welling blood that trickles down his wrist, mingling with the water that still clings to his skin. It triggers something, makes his brain stumble, the bright stain on his thigh - his shorts are probably ruined. He opens his mouth and starts to say something, but the sound sticks in his throat.

Smooth, soft fingers slide over his as Angel grabs his hand. Covering his palm with her own, she frowns down at the wound, as her hand starts to shimmer and glow. He feels the heat of her power soaking into his skin, brighter than the sunlight overhead. It starts to flow down his wrist, and he wants more of it - he wants to bask in it.

Too soon, though, it’s over. The cut wasn’t all that bad, and it only takes a moment to heal. But her hand lingers, palm brushing his, the tips of her fingers tracing his pulse on the delicate underside of his wrist, where the pale pink stain of blood lingers.

“Better?” she asks, looking up at him, long lashes shading her eyes. Tentatively, he allows his own fingers to trace her wrist.

“Yeah. Thank you,” he smiles.

“Any time.”

**********

That night, as the sun sinks down and the fireflies float lazily up from the warm ground, they gather around the fire pit in front of the house. Spread out in canvas lawn chairs, they toast their marshmallows on wire coat hangers, squishing them between graham crackers and chocolate squares. Steve is suspicious of the treat at first, unsure about the pairing and perpetually wary of sweets.

“Just try it,” Wanda rolls her eyes. “It’s the perfect treat, trust us.”

Skeptical, he sinks his perfect American teeth into the crackers, through the gooey marshmallow chocolate layer, the melted treat sticking to his lips as he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully, quietly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb as he considers. The rest of the group awaits his verdict, nestled in their chairs with their own s’mores.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agrees, shoving the rest of the dessert into his mouth. He licks his lips appreciatively. “You’ve got a point there.”

“You know, I think you would’ve had to give up being Captain America if you didn’t like them,” Clint smirks, one cheek stuffed full. “I mean, who doesn’t like s’mores?”

“Yeah, but is that technically an American thing?” Sam wonders, reaching for the package of graham crackers.

“Well I’ve never had them anywhere else,” Wanda counters. She’s nursing her second pineapple ale of the evening - a drink she discovered when they stopped into a grocery store for supplies, and insisted on buying 2 packs to bring to the cabin with them.

Bucky isn’t paying attention to the Great S’mores Debate, not even a little bit. He can hardly hear them talking; he stares across the fire, warm sparks drifting like the fireflies above, as Angel licks chocolate from her fingers. The bright pink tip of her tongue darts out against her fingertips, savoring what’s left of the treat; he finds that his own mouth is parched and dry, a curious kind of hunger growling low in his belly, despite having had his own fill of dinner and s’mores. As she slips her pinky finger into her mouth, her eyes catch his from the other side of the flames, the firelight dancing in her eyes as she holds his gaze. The corner of her mouth twitches up just slightly, and she winks.

She winks.

Then, as the conversation takes another twist towards some kind of dessert or another, she quietly slips from her chair and walks away unnoticed, picking her way down the familiar trail to the dock in the dark.

Bucky glances around the group, and gauging that their conversation should serve as enough of a distraction, mutters some kind of excuse about needing the bathroom before getting up to follow.

Seconds later, Natasha turns to look at them - Angel’s form just visible between the trees and Bucky trailing along behind. She smiles widely over her beer, before settling back into her chair with a sigh.

“Finally,” she huffs, taking a sip. “Took them long enough.”

“Oh my god, right?” Sam raises his hands in exasperation. “I thought I’d hit my 100th birthday before that dickhead made a move-”

**********

She’s sitting at the edge of the dock, past where the boats are moored for the night, one knee tucked up under her chin as her other leg dangles with her toe in the water. She must hear him coming, his footsteps intentional and loud to his own ears on the wooden planks, but she doesn’t turn around. The lake is soft and still, wearing moonlight like a a silk robe, rippling reflected light across the surface. Above them the sky is cloudless and star-filled, cooled to a rich deep blue after the blazing bright day.

“Sometimes I would come down here at night with my dad,” she says, when he stands right behind her, unsure if he’s allowed to sit, if he should ask. She tips her head up over her shoulder. “We’d fish a little - threw them all back, though.”

“You didn’t keep ‘em?” Bucky asks, settling down beside her on the dock, letting his legs hang over the edge.

“No,” she shakes her head, scrunching her nose. “I felt sorry for them. Didn’t wanna hurt them, you know?”

He just watches her, the soft line of her profile in starlight, a smile blooming in his heart.

“Always been an angel, huh.” He doesn’t mean to say it, at least not out loud, but once it’s out he finds himself glad.

She looks at him then, not answering, but searching out his gaze with her eyes - they flit between his own, pupils wide in the dark. He licks his lips, wonders what she’s looking for, what she sees.

“Have you ever been night-swimming?”

Her question comes out of the blue, catching him off guard. He blinks - her mischievous eyes never leave his face.

“Um. I-I don’t remember,” he fumbles. “I think so. Way back, during the war. Not so much for leisure though,” he smiles ruefully. “I just knew I smelled awful and didn’t wanna risk being caught with my pants down, literally, in broad day.”

It startles a laugh out of her, a loud one, and his pride swells, inflating in his chest. The smile stays fixed on his face as he looks back out at the lake.

“Wouldn’t mind sometime, though,” he hints. “It’s beautiful out there at night.”

“Let’s go then,” she grins, using her hands to push herself up to stand above him. He blinks up, dumb at the flash of her smile.

“But, well…” he falters. “I should run back up to the house, I don’t have my trunks-”

“So?” she interrupts with a careless shrug. There’s something in her smile, and he doesn’t quite understand what she means until she reaches for the hem of her t-shirt and-

Oh. Oh.

Easy as that, smooth as a wave, she peels her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. Her soft cotton bralette comes next, unhooked and slid down her arms, dropped onto the pile with her shirt. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he swears, but he can’t bring himself to lower his gaze. She turns away with a little smile as she shimmies her shorts down, kicking them behind her to join the rest of her clothes, and he thinks he might combust if, oh god, there go her panties-

The cool splash of water as she jumps in jolts him back to himself, wakes him from the trance he fell into at the display of her body, her sweet summer skin, still smelling of coconut and watermelon. Her head bobs up a couple of yards past the dock, treading water.

“You coming or what?” she dares, feeling less bold now, but what the hell - she made her move. The water has cooled since the sun went down, and a little shiver runs through her. Yes, she certainly made a move. She bites her lip and watches him, waiting, hoping.

When he stands, she holds her breath - will he leave? Will he turn her down? Will he still be her friend? Then he reaches a hand behind his back and tugs his shirt up over his head, throwing it down onto the dock next to hers.

He’s every bit as beautiful by moonlight as he is in broad day - she’s always thought so, but kept it to herself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Now though…she admires him, as she allowed him to admire her; watches closely every long line of his body revealed to her as he undresses, the golden tan he’s earned the last few days on the lake, the course hair covering his chest, the sliding shadows of muscle beneath his skin…

Before he can second guess himself, Bucky dives in and joins her, popping up out of the water just a few feet away and slicking his hair back from his face. She smiles, playfully backing away; he grins right back as he gives chase, following slow but determined.

“See? Fun, right?” Angel giggles, feeling her heart beat a wild rhythm and hoping he can’t hear it. Bucky chuckles back, not answering, swimming just a few inches closer. The outline of her body glows in the moonlight, though he tries not to stare beneath the water.

“You’ve definitely convinced me,” he agrees. They drift out a little further - still not too far from the dock or the shore, but their little game of cat and mouse leads them out several yards. “You bring all the boys out here? Is it gonna be Sam’s turn tomorrow?”

“Hm…I haven’t decided yet,” she muses, pretending to consider it. “I think I’d ask Steve first - unless you think he wouldn’t be game for it.”

“Trust me, I know Steve Rogers,” Bucky laughs. “He’d die of embarrassment.”

“You’re probably right,” Angel grins. “Then maybe it is Sam’s turn.”

“Aw, you’re breaking’ my heart, Angel,” Bucky pouts, giving her the full force of his baby blues, a look he only ever reserved for his mother. Angel doesn’t fall for it; instead, she rolls her eyes and splashes a handful of water right in his face.

“You’ll be fine,” she shrugs, but hides her smile by ducking her head half down, nearly concealed in the water.

“No, I won’t,” he insists. He’s barely a foot away from her now. “I’m wounded, Angel. Really. I’m real hurt - I need your help.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah - I may not survive. You gotta help me.”

“Well, I think that’s in my job description.” Her eyes are full of moonlight, her face inches from his own. “Where are you hurt?”

He grabs her hand and places her palm firmly over his heart.

“Right here, honey,” he whispers, silly grin firmly in place. “You hurt me real bad.”

On cue, her palm starts to glow, the light filtering up through the water in glittering ripples that flicker across their faces. Just over his heart, his skin warms at her touch, a surge of energy and light and life straight into him, deep and true.

“Anywhere else?” she asks, her own voice so soft, barely heard over the cicadas in the trees.

“Yeah…here.” Taking hold of her other hand, he draws her arms up around his shoulders. His smirk twitches. “Must’ve pulled something climbing those cliffs.”

“Uh huh, sure,” she rolls her eyes, but ignites her hands anyway, the healing warmth soaking into his sore muscles and the ever-tender skin surrounding his metal arm. Not one to complain, he never mentions the trouble it causes, constant weight on his shoulders and neck, often giving him tension headaches at the base of skull. But here she is, melting it all away with a touch.

Slowly, cautiously, he lets his hands slide around her waist, thumbs gently brushing her last rib. Beneath his palms he feels her breath stutter and catch, her heart picking up. Their feet accidentally kick one another as they attempt to keep treading water, and she lets him wrap one of her legs around his waist to keep from kicking her.

“Anything else?” she whispers. He traces her face with his eyes, unable to distinguish her own glow from that of the moon beaming down on them. With a slow nod, Bucky rests his forehead against hers, shares a breath.

“Here,” he says, and tilts his head the last couple of inches until his lips meet hers.

In an instant, he feels warm all over; though his eyes are closed, he can see the light behind them like sun through closed blinds. It nearly burns, hot and holy and aching sweet, and his toes curl with it. She breaks away for a moment, just to smile so blindingly, sunbeams breaking beneath her radiant skin - and dives back in, laughing into his mouth as he tightens his hold and her hands go to his hair.

Adrift in a summer-warm lake, under a swollen July moon, they kiss and laugh and touch and play.

Under a moon half as bright, they glow.

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot

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britnxyspears · 4 years

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☕️ vegetables

VERY good tbh I usually prefer the veggies in my food more than the meat.

Onions- absolutely always loving these bad boys. Enough to sob through cutting them lmfao

Tomatoes- okay I hated tomatoes when I was little but my thing is that I generally only like them cooked. I still like BLT and tomato on my burger, but like I have to be in a mood to have them cold any other time. Most of my favorite foods have tomatoes as a base. They compliment a wide variety of flavors.

Corn- very cool, very cool. On the cob that shit will wrecks my gums but we still love it bc it's yummy especially slathered in butter. Mm.

Carrots: UGH so versatile. I like them raw with onion dip the best <3 tbh dip in general, a lot of dips just work out best with baby carrots.

Idk if they're a veggie but I LOVE water chestnuts what the fuck. They just soak up all the good flavors of your stir fry and stuff.

Spinach: sometimes I feel compelled to eat it raw idk what's wrong with me. Refreshing.

Cabbage: okay so like. Accidentally bought this bad boy instead of lettuce (for blt) and I was like what the fuck do I make with cabbage??? Well now its main part of my favorite recipe that I just pulled out of my ass. We love cabbage.

Eggplant: very cool but you gotta be in the mood. Good for veggie stacking recipes like ratatouille. (Yes I've made actual ratatouille. It's very good but labour intensive with cutting phhft)

SQUASH IS VERY EPIC I LOVE ACORN SQUASH ESPECIALLY ESPECIALLY IN FALL AUGGGGH also yellow squash goes great with steak! I personally dont like steak much so it kinda balances stuff out!

ZUCCHINI IS THE S H I T I love it so much. I love it especially in lasagna!!!!! My mom can't do like regular noodles so we did it with zucchini noodles that we sliced up- literally 5000000× better than regular lasagna with noodles. Also healthier if you are like, obsessed with carbs (bc they're good.) I also put it in my spaghetti in little chunks in the sauce! They just hold sauce so well.

Broccoli: okay. It's good... but I do have to say it does get boring fast. Pairs great in cheese based dishes.

Brussel sprouts: LOVE THESE LITTLE DUDES WITH BUTTER AND CHEESE.

Bell peppers: versatile kings. And queens. These are actually sexed lol! I prefer yellow ones bc I think they just add nice color into a dish which just looks yummier and feels better if you have a lot of red and green in your diet.

Potatoes- good. Good. sWEET POTATOES are where it is AT though. With butterbutterbutterbutt er buter butter and CINNAMON and CHEESE and BROWN SUGAR and sometimes sour cream. Some ppl like that... it's not my thing tho ^^; BUT AAA it's also good with my good friend cayenne pepper! And who doesn't love sweet tato fries? Goes great with most anything. Plus. They're cozy!

Celery: satanic. Choked on this stringy bitch. I choked on carrots too but that's okay we're cool with that bc it didnt feel like swallowing a gosh damn unraveling sweater

Mushrooms.... love the flavor, but the bite texture just messes with me. Still like them sauteed on a swiss cheese burger or just in soup though.

Peas.. peas are good but get boring plus they're hard to eat all of :/ I like split pea soup though

Asparagus is yummy when done right. I like the tops of them best bc they hold seasonings so well XD very good with chicken breast.

Cucumbers are meh. Good in salads tho.

Dont like Kale. Tastes like grass.

LOVE PUMPKIN. idk if it's a veggie but it's so yummy.

Beets are epic and I love that they stain stuff pink tbh. Very cool of them. This is one where I think just plain salt is good, the natural flavor of beets just go nice with salt. I eat them plain too I just think they have a rich flavor of their own.

And of course.... stitchface is the best veggie.

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ilikecowsnstuff · 5 years

Text

CHAPTER 9!!!

SUMMARY: UA Hero Course - Third Year. Shigaraki Tomura and Dabi have been classmates and rivals since their very first day at UA. But with new feelings developing how will they cope given their history of fragile and often violent encounters? Their dance begins after a partnered training exam goes wrong, leaving Shigaraki wounded and Dabi feeling guilty. AU.

====================

For AO3 – Click Here

For FanFiction – Click Here

====================

CHAPTER NINE - WORK AND PLAY

Shigaraki had started to hate his patrols, like to the point where he dreaded going to his nightly internship at the Fourth Kind Agency. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the responsibility, or that he felt uncomfortable or inadequate as a hero-in-training, he was just bored - tired of the same mundane route and the absence of any real hero work.

That night was no different. Hours of walking with nothing new or exciting to report, just a couple of muggings here and a purse snatching there and that had pretty much summed it all up. It was police work, not hero work, but it was what all students were allocated before they graduated. Of course, some students got lucky and ran into trouble during their work studies coincidentally allowing them to act the hero, but Shigaraki hadn’t been that fortunate.

He kicked absently at an empty soda can that had been discarded on the sidewalk, earning him a displeased look from some passersby. He ignored the glares and continued forward, leaving the littered can on the ground behind. After a dull, yet blessedly low crime night, he and Kai were officially off-duty and on their way back to the dorms after checking in and signing out at the agency.

“So, that was a huge waste of time.” Kai proclaimed as he walked unassumingly beside Shigaraki.

Shigaraki snorted in response. He wasn’t sure what Kai had been expecting on his first patrol but thought it involved a lot more action and adventure. Admittedly, he would have preferred that too, but it was what it was.

“Do you ever feel like all of this is not right for you?” Kai asked.

“You mean the patrols?” Shigaraki replied, “Everyone has to do it.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“No, I mean… like everything. Being a Hero, with all these ridiculous rules and restrictions.” Kai elaborated, watching Shigaraki from the corner of his eye. “Why are we even trying to be heroes? It seems a lot more fun on the other side.”

Shigaraki whipped his head to the side, his brows drawn tightly together as he considered Kai’s line of questioning. He legitimately didn’t know how to answer him. His reasons were purely logical and had nothing to do with feelings, which was probably an issue within itself - he was born into a mutated world and people with quirks were raised to become heroes. Or villains. Simple as that. Though, why he had chosen the side of good was a mystery considering his problematic and controversial childhood influences.

That lack of conviction wasn’t something he was going to share with Kai, however.

“I can see it, you know.” Kai began, meeting Shigaraki’s disconcerted gaze. “You’re not like the others.”

Shigaraki scratched frantically at his neck, narrowing his eyes at his new friend.

He wanted to disagree, and he wanted to defend himself from such outlandish accusations, but he couldn’t find his words, or the right ones anyway. Kai knew nothing about him, yet, he wasn’t entirely wrong. For as long as he could remember, Shigaraki had felt different from his classmates - through middle and elementary school he was an outcast, someone who did not belong, and UA High hadn’t changed anything except, perhaps, offered some purpose to his ambiguity.

How had he seen through Shigaraki’s hardened exterior?

“So, I see.” Kai muttered. He thought Shigaraki’s silence spoke volumes, and it made Kai even more fascinated with the surly boy.

Kai thought it was kind of funny how easily Shigaraki had managed to get under his skin and rearrange his priorities at UA High. The violently brief introduction to Shigaraki had piqued his interest, and then the random - though unconfirmed - gossip about misconduct and nonconformity that he had picked up from other students really sealed the deal and his obsession.

Shigaraki was like the antihero of UA High. Unconventional, but heroic nonetheless? Maybe? The jury was still out on that. Kai needed to know more before there was a clear ruling because the lines between good and bad were extremely blurred.

“You know, I think we’re very much alike.” Kai suggested, stepping into stride with Shigaraki.

“Oh, I doubt that.”

Kai snickered behind his mask. “Sure, we are. With maybe the exception of wanting to be a hero.” He clarified, casually waving a gloved hand in front of him.

“Why the fuck are you at UA High then?”

“Why are you?” Kai countered.

Shigaraki shook his head. He was not in the mood for this level of honest disclosure and especially not with Kai.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.”

“I’m not worried.” Shigaraki affirmed lowering his eyes, as far as he was concerned this topic of conversation was over.

Luckily, Kai’s amusement also seemed to have faded and he dropped whatever point he was trying to make. They walked in silence for a few yards, their heavy footsteps on the pavement the only sounds accompanying them as they entered UA High grounds.

“Oh, hey.” Kai suddenly exclaimed, “What are you doing Friday night?”

“Nothing.” Shigaraki replied, shaking his head.

“Do you want to do something?”

“With you?”

“Yeah.” Kai watched Shigaraki intently for an answer, but when he didn’t get one added, “I heard you liked video games.”

“Who told you that?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

“So, you do then?”

“Yes.”

“See, we are alike. I play too.”

Shigaraki grunted. “Having one thing in common doesn’t mean we are alike, Kai.”

“Mm, fine. I’ll give you that. But I know it’s not the only thing.” He conceded. “And back to my earlier question, want to play together Friday night? We can team up in COD. Or something else? Red Dead?”

Shigaraki shifted his glance sideways, offering Kai a rare though subtle smile. Not one of the other students were interested in gaming, not like Shigaraki was. Though, to be fair, he never really asked, he just assumed. But the idea of sharing his hobby with Kai was surprisingly welcomed.

“Okay.”

”Yeah? Cool, cool.”

Ahead of them, the windows to the Alliance Dorm were lit up with a warm, yellow light. Most of the students would have returned from their internships by now and were probably in the common room excitedly discussing the events of the night at their respective agencies. At a jogging pace, he and Kai ascended the small set of stairs to the front doors and just as they hit the landing, a voice stopped them from entering inside.

“Look who finally made it back.”

To their right, perched casually on the porch railing and leaning against a pillar for support was Dabi. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers, eyeing the other two boys suspiciously.

“Smoking on school grounds, smart.” Shigaraki commented, scowling as Dabi grinned in return, lifting the smoke to his lips to take a drag.

Stupid. Hot. Zombie. Boy. Ugh. Shigaraki was both outraged and aroused.

“I never claimed to be smart.” Dabi disclosed.

Beside him, Kai remained silent but Shigaraki could tell he was disgusted with Dabi’s dirty habit. His forehead was creased, like he was scrunching his nose up behind his mask. The smoke didn’t really bother Shigaraki, nor did the smell irritate him, but considering Kai’s apparent OCD, Shigaraki understood why he would be opposed to it.

“I’m going inside.” Kai muttered, clearly irked. “So, Friday night, your room or mine?”

“Mine. Bring your own gear.”

“You got it.” He offered Shigaraki a quick salute then turned to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shigaraki nodded and waited until the door had closed behind Kai before he took a few steps towards Dabi.

“Got a hot date?” Dabi teased as he approached.

“Shut up.” Shigaraki barked in return, pressing his back against the wall and stuffing his hands deep into his pockets, “We’re just going to play some COD or something.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a video game.” Shigaraki explained, and then noticing Dabi’s disinterest followed it with, “It doesn’t matter. It’s not a date.”

Dabi regarded Shigaraki silently, a cloud of white smoke whirling from his lips and then disappearing into thin air.

“Why haven’t you asked me to play COB with you?”

“It’s COD. Call of Duty.” Shigaraki corrected, trying desperately to repress a grin, “And I didn’t think you were into that kind of stuff.”

Dabi shrugged. “I’m not.”

“So that’s why I didn’t fucking ask.” He explained and then went on to correct, “Well, one of the reasons.”

“Heh. I could learn to like it. For you.”

“Oh, please. Don’t put yourself out on my account.”

Dabi’s responding chuckle was deep, almost dark in nature.

“Maybe I would like it.” He took another drag of his smoke,

“Seriously, aren’t you in enough trouble already?” Shigaraki asked, motioning towards Dabi’s cigarette - the potential detention creator.

“What’s another week of after school?”

Shigaraki’s brow furrowed hard. He was about to reply with something snarky, as was his custom, but something caught his attention instead and it took all words right out of his mouth. It was the edge of a white bandage peeking out from the collar of Dabi’s shirt. To Shigaraki, it looked like the bandage was wrapped diagonally from his chest over his shoulder covering quite a large expanse of skin.

Noticing where Shigaraki’s eyes fell, Dabi waved it off.

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Dabi butted out his cigarette and then tossed the waste in the garden behind him, disposing of it out of sight - like it had never been present in the first place. He hopped off the railing and back to his feet, his usual arrogance firmly back in place now.

“Are you concerned about my wellbeing, Mop Head?”

“Not particularly.” Shigaraki replied, acting resignedly as he folded his arms collectively over his chest.

“You are a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

Dabi turned to glance at the door to the dorms before looking back to Shigaraki, eyes honing in on where he stood. He still looked so uncomfortable and so self-aware of being alone with Dabi - it was almost painful to watch.

“What?” Shigaraki demanded after a few seconds of silence and the boys continued staring.

“Nothing.” Dabi drawled, the corner of his mouth kicking up into an amused grin. The heat of Shigaraki’s blush was warming at the intensity of his stare.

“God I fucking missed you.” Dabi murmured, taking a cautious step closer.

“We were literally in class together all day, idiot.” Shigaraki replied gruffly, though he didn’t try to move away which was progress.

“That’s not how I mean.”

Shigaraki sucked in a small breath when Dabi reached him, long fingers curling around the drawstrings of his hoodie. He tugged firmly encouraging Shigaraki forward.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” Dabi whispered, taking a final step closer. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Fine. But make it quick.” He grumbled, shoulders stiff, cheeks flushing further. Dabi grinned, accepting his conflicting behaviour out of familiarity. Shigaraki’s mouth often said yes while his body said no, or at least, a very reluctant maybe. Persistence was key.

Dabi grinned and tilted his head, shadow falling across Shigaraki’s upturned face. He lifted his hand to cup Shigaraki’s cheek and settled his mouth gently over Shigaraki’s pursed lips. Shigaraki dropped his arms helplessly to his side in response, his defensive stand forgotten. He curled his restless fingers, hands balling up into tights fists surrendering to the kiss.

Emboldened by his crush’s assent, Dabi swept his fingers slowly over Shigaraki’s jawline and felt the boy shiver against him, lips parting in anticipation of Dabi’s invading tongue. This was how their kisses always began, slow and sweet, Dabi taking the lead, Shigaraki passively following him in the motions. But once Dabi’s tongue slid inside his mouth, deepening the kiss, the rest of Shigaraki’s body was not quite so subdued. He unconsciously took a slight step closer, slender body pressing closer to Dabi.

Dabi moaned his approval against Shigaraki’s mouth, fingers sliding back into the boys messy yet incredibly soft hair. When they broke off ten seconds later, gasping for breath, Shigaraki held a shaky hand up.

Dabi paused, his lips an inch from Shigaraki’s palm, and three inches from Shigaraki’s flushed mouth.

“That’s it?” Dabi frowned, petting the other boy with reverence.

“I said to make it quick.”

“But don’t you feel better now?”

Shigaraki blushed, refusing to answer.

“Okay. Understood.” Dabi yielded, trying not to look too wistful, and he carefully lowered the other boys threatening hand, “There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.” Dabi breathed, fingers slowly combing through Shigaraki’s hair. When he didn’t reply, Dabi continued, “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s my birthday next week.”

“Congratulations.”

Dabi’s eyes lit up with amusement.

“I’m having a party on the weekend, at my parent’s place. They will be out of town so...”

Shigaraki scowled, knowing exactly where this was going, but hoping by some miracle he was wrong.

“Will you come?”

“No.”

“Please? I want you to come.”

“I don’t like parties.” Shigaraki grumbled, scratching his blunt nails up and down the side of his neck.

“But you like me.” Dabi said leaning forward and stealing another quick kiss before Shigaraki could object to it.

“Tch.” Shigaraki grunted, head tilting away.

“Come on. Everyone will be there.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.” Dabi snickered.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m inviting everyone from Third Year.”

“Why?”

“Hm. Because parties are better with a lot of people.

“That’s debatable.”

“How about a party of two then? You and me.”

“Definitely not.”

“Just come to the party. I won’t have any fun without you.” Dabi pleaded, almost pouting.

Shigaraki scoffed. “Oh, please. What kind of guilt trip is that?”

Dabi tried desperately to repress a grin. “Hopefully an effective one.”

“Will that idiot bird be there?”

“He’s my best friend, Mop Head, so yeah, he’ll be there.” Dabi rationalized.

“I will trade his presence for my presence.”

“That’s unreasonable, no deal.” Dabi shook his head, thumb brushing gently over the high point on Shigaraki’s cheek.

“Whatever. It’s a maybe. And only if Kurogiri is interested. Then I will think about it.” Shigaraki said, hoping that his best-friends mutual dislike of Dabi was enough to ignore an invite. It was highly probable.

“I will bribe him if I have too.”

====================

Chapter One – Accidental Attraction

Chapter Two – After Care

Chapter Three – Dazed and Confused

Chapter Four – I Like You

Chapter Five - Friends and Enemies

Chapter Six - Confrontation!

Chapter Seven - Transfer Student

Chapter Eight - A Period of Learning

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tenaciousarcadeexpert · 6 years

Text

The Switch(Part 6)

@marvelfanlife, @dontshootmespence, @literallyprentissstwin, @butsomeofusarelookingatthestars, @ultrarebelheart, @itsmeedee, @thebutterflyxx, @cynbx, @jaqren, @sunflowerpsalms

Note: I apologize for the really long wait due to some personal issues as well as a shift in focus on other fics like The Good Ol’ Days. But I hope the wait is worth it as part 6 of The Switch is finally here. For those who are unfamiliar with it, it’s a body swap au where Reid and Matt mysteriously swapped bodies. (I’d recommend reading previous chapters to get a better idea of this fic) Anyway, enjoy.

Previous chapters:(I’d recommend reading them first for those who have not read it or to jog some memories) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Half an hour has passed and both Reid and Matt were still unconscious. As Kristy tries to figure out what just happened, she heard the doorbell ring as she opened the door to see Emily and the rest of the team arrive. In the meantime, both Reid and Matt found themselves at a bar, where they suddenly see a server offer them two glasses with a yellow-greenish liquid. "What is this?" Matt asked. "The Green Fairy?" The server shook her head. "N-no, just a special recipe I made. I hope you guys enjoy." She gives them a wink before leaving, much to their dismay. Matt took a whiff of his drink, along with Reid. "I don't know about this, should we....?" Matt shrugged his shoulders. "I guess one drink won't hurt. Bottoms up." He and Reid tap their glasses together before chugging down on their drinks, where a flash up light shines them, promting them to wake up. "Are they up? Are they up?" They heard the voices from the team echoeing in their head as the wake up to see the sight of Luke and JJ waking them up. "Are they up?" Kristy asked. "They're up." JJ said as she and Luke turn back to them. "Rise and shine sleepyhead.....you okay?" Luke asked as he taps Matt's face, unaware that it's still Reid. "We're okay." Reid groans as he emerged from the couch. "What are you guys doing over here?" Matt asked, rubbing his eyes. "Kristy told us that you guys collapsed so we came here to see what happened." Emily responds. "Luckily, you guys are okay." "Yeah, we are." Matt responds. "But that's not all." Luke leaned close to Reid. "What do you mean?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "We're oka-GAH!" He and Reid suddenly felt another sense of light-headedness in their heads as they clutch their heads. "Easy. Just take a deep breath." Luke consoled. "Kristy, do you mind telling us what happen here?" Emily asked. The redhead scratched her head. "Uhm, I don't know how to describe it. They seemed fine when they got here and then all of a sudden they collapsed and............oh man, I think you'll get a better explanation from them." She looked at her husband and friend. "Matt, Spencer. I think you're better off telling them." "Wait, telling us what?" JJ turned to her friends. "Matt, what is Kristy talking about." Both Matt and Reid looked at each other and looked to their teammates. Seeing that there was no other choice, they took a deep breath. "Okay, seeing with all of you here, it seems that we have no other choice but to tell you guys." The team raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" Emily asked. "Wait a second..." Garcia adds as she looked at Kristy as she bites her thumb. "You two aren't-" "No, no, no, no." Matt hastily responds. "That's not why." "Oh okay." "Well, then spit it out and tell us what the hell is bothering you too." Rossi blurts out. "Okay, okay. Have you guys seen the movie, Freaky Friday?" The team nods. "Oh yeah, Em and I watched that movie before. Isn't that when the mother and daughter magically switched bodies one day?" Tara said. Reid snapped his fingers. "Yep." "Yeah, but what does that have to do with you guys." "Well." Matt scratched his head. "Funny you should ask that, cause that's what happened to us." "Wait, what? I'm confused." "Okay." Matt, in Reid's body stood up and put his hands together. "How should we put this." He muttered. "Okay......" He then looks to the rest of the team. "The truth is...................is that Reid and I swapped bodies, similar to Freaky Friday." He points to himself. "I'm not Reid, I'm Matt." He then points to Reid in his own body. "That person over there is actually Spencer." "It's true, believe it or not. We don't know how this happened but it did and now, our minds mysteriously swap." "So?" Matt released his hands as the others try to process the information both Matt and Reid gave them. After a brief period of silence, the group suddenly burst into laughter, much to Matt and Reid's dismay. "Seriously?" Matt groans. "Aw Reid, you're hilarious." Luke laughed as he pats Reid's shoulder, unaware that it's Matt. "I'm not Reid, I'm Matt!" "Oh come on, enough with the jokes." Emily snickered. "We're not joking, this is serious." Reid begged. "Okay, whatever you say, doctor." JJ teased. Matt sighs. "Kristy, come on, they won't believe us." Kristy then pats JJ and Emily on the shoulders. "Em, Jennifer, guys. I hate to say it, but they're telling the truth." "Oh Kristy, not you too." "I mean it, Jen." "Really?" She nods. "Yeah, well I mean at first I didn't believe them till Matt started saying things that only the two of us would know and that a IQ genius like Spencer wouldn't." "Okay, okay." Rossi said as he goes up to Reid and Matt. "If what you're saying is true, then prove it." "P-prove?" Reid croaked. "Yeah." Rossi nods. "If you managed to convince Kristy, then you might as well prove us that this actually happened by telling us things the other wouldn't know." "Like what is something Reid knows but Matt doesn't and vice versa." Tara said. "Oh okay." Both Matt and Reid try to come up with a few things about themselves that would prove to the team that they actually switched bodies while the others sat down on chairs and the sofa. "And take your time." Emily adds. "Ooo, I got one." Reid said. "Well, what is it?" "I remember the one time I thought JJ was a Redskins fan and took her to a game once." "Really?" Luke asked JJ. She nods. "Mm hmph." "Wow." "But that's not enough." She then turns to Matt. "What about you, 'Matt'. How do we know that its actually you and not Spence trying to fool us?" She squint her eyes. "Ooo." Garcia then kneels beside Reid, unaware that it's Matt she was staring at. "Say something?" "S-say what?" "Something quirky." "Like?" "Come on, if you're really Spencer, you could've ramble on about the average number of kernels on the average cob." Matt glares at Garcia. "I don't know how many kernels are on a-" "800 kernels exactly." The room was suddenly silent as the team and Matt turn to Reid, who answers Garcia's question, despite reciting his answer in Matt's body. "What did you say?" The bubbly blonde asked. "There are about 800 kernels of corn on the average cob arranged in 16 separate rows." "How do you know that Matt?" Reid shrugged his shoulders. "I just do, it's all in my head. And it's not Matt, it's Reid/" "I see......if you're really Reid, then I have one thing to ask: How many words can you read?" "About 20,000 words........per minute." "Wow." Rossi said, agaped. "Anything else you wanna say, 'Reid'?" He rubs his chin. "Let's see." He then snaps his fingers. "Ooo, how many existentialists does it take to screw in a light bulb?-" "Yep, that's Spencer." Rossi replies. "My god." JJ groans. "I can't believe it." Garcia stammered. "I thought you guys were just playing tricks on me but no. Apparently this has happened to my sweet nerd and military hunk." "Yeah......it has." Matt responds. Luke then turns over to Reid. "I still can't believe that it's you Reid." "Yes I am aware how weird this must be." "Weird? It's hard for me to imagine you sprouting these random facts straight outta Matt's mouth." Matt chuckled. "Yeah, even I find it hard to imagine." They started to laugh as Reid saw Emily and Rossi sat down. "Uh Em, are you okay?" "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She then motions Kristy as she walks up to her with a bottle of wine and some empty glasses. "You sure about that?" "I am. I-I just give me some time processing this. She pours some wine in her glass and drank, still unable to fathom the fact that Reid and Matt swap bodies. "Nope, not yet." She groaned as she squeezed her forehead, much to Reid and Matt's dismay. "Relax boys, Prentiss will be fine, just give her some time. I know I still need to process this." "So, you believe us?" Reid asked. "Yes Spence, we all do. It's hard for us to understand what's going on, but we believe you." JJ said. "And we'll do anything to help you guys get back to normal." Luke adds. Matt shrugged his shoulders as he and Reid looked at the rest of them team, seeing that they're serious about it. "Well, to tell you the truth, we don't know how this happened." "What do you mean?" "W-we just don't know. I mean, before, things were normal. Then all of a sudden, this happens the next day." Reid adds. "Well, there has to be some sort of cause to all this." Tara reassured. "I mean, what happened to the two of you couldn't have happened all of a sudden." "Well....." "The dreams." Reid snapped. "The what?" "Matt, remember on the plane you told me about that dream you had and how I also had the same dream as you?" "Yeah?" "Well......it's possible that whatever it was, it might have something to do with our situation." "But how? All I can recall are blurry visions and noises so loud it that it gave me-us headaches." Just then, the two and the team turned to see Emily stood up as she approached the two men after some time processing the situation in her head. "Guys, I think it's time for a cognition."

#matt simmons #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #luke alvez #david rossi #penelope garcia #tara lewis #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #the switch

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amymel86 · 6 years

Text

I had a BBQ at the wknd, so of course my mind wanders to jonsa...

Sansa hated when Jon Snow would visit during a Stark family BBQ. Well, hated was probably too strong a word, but still. Most of the time she was able to keep her thirst for her brother’s best friend under wraps, but when that guy chows down on glazed ribs or grilled corn with so much gusto it’s like he hasn’t been fed in over a week, she can’t help imagining him feasting on something else too.

It all started with those lips. Damn those lips of his! Sansa had first thought she was purely jealous - they were pouty and sensual, and it’s just not fair that a man should posses such a beautiful mouth. She would angrily apply her gloss, trying not to scowl at him as he wrapped the object of her ire around his thumb, sucking the remains of the sticky BBQ sauce from the digit.

But it wasn’t jealousy. Not really. Not when she literally couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he hungrily devoured corn from the cob in his hand, the golden yellow vegetable dripping and glistening with melted butter, covering his beard and muffling the appreciative noises groaning from his throat.

He opened his eyes to see her watching. Lowering the corn and granting her a sheepish grin. “It’s good corn,” he swallows.

“Mm-hm,” Sansa nods, squeezing her thighs together where her legs are crossed. The action didn’t seem to go unnoticed. Jon’s eyes drop to her bare legs, covered in a slight sheen from her cocoa-butter shimmer suncream where she wears her tiniest pair of denim shorts. He swallows again and licks those devilish lips of his before his eyes return to hers.

She can practically hear the cogs whirring in his head, trying to make sense of the slight movement, the tensing of her thighs and the flush on her cheeks that has nothing to do with the sun’s rays reaching into the Stark’s back yard.

Slowly, with his eyes still locked on hers, Jon returns his mouth to his corn. Everyone else seems to be oblivious to any kind of exchange between them, either busy with their own food, or lost in idle chit-chat. So, when Jon begins to leisurely lick his tongue over the little bumps and rows of corn, gathering up the melted butter before repeating the action over and over, all while maintaining eye contact with her, Sansa knows the jig is up.

Shit.

He sinks his mouth into the corn, closing his eyes before making a groaning noise and sucking just enough so Sansa can hear the hungry noises he’s making.

Bastard!

Sansa makes a snap decision. She reaches over to the platter of barbecued meats, snatching a rather impressive looking sausage before dipping it into the bowl of homemade salsa. Bringing it up to her mouth with a raised brow as she sees that Jon is watching her intently, she swirls her tongue around the tip of the still hot sausage before closing her eyes and engulfing it to suck it clean. It leaves her mouth with a pop.

Two can play at this game, she thinks wickedly as Jon goes slack jawed and manages to drop his corn.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #drabble-y thing

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weeklyhumorist · 5 years

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#MoodyMenuItems

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An order of the SOB Salad and a glass of the UnsTable wine please! It’s #MoodyMenuItems on this week’s joke game! Here are some of the best on @HashtagRoundUp powered by @TheHashtagGame. Play our comedy hashtag twitter games every Wednesday at 11 am EST.

Let’s play #MoodyMenuItems with co-host @delaneyWHmag @HashtagRoundup powered by @TheHashtagGame #WittyWednesday pic.twitter.com/wqBHkDuTzk

— Weekly Humorist (@WeeklyHumorist) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems unsTable wine

— DM (@patchdennizen) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems

Hater Tots

— Baby Deadpool aka Blurry Face (@Eminem11684) January 8, 2020

Meathaters Pizza #MoodyMenuItems

— That Girl (@whoulooknat) January 8, 2020

Onion Mood Rings #MoodyMenuItems

— Keith G. Blair (@44bizzness) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Fish n’ chip on the shoulder

— Giles Graham-Brown (@gilesfgb) January 8, 2020

Homemade apple sighhhh #MoodyMenuItems

— ☘️🍻Jables🍻☘️ (@MrCheek22) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Abalonely 😔 pic.twitter.com/2hEOrrNBBg

— Pingy🐧✨ (@SparklyPinguin) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Every parent can relate to this… pic.twitter.com/L3ZZtvYm7P

— Ⓑⓔⓣⓗ (@Halloween_1014) January 8, 2020

Split Grumpea Soup … #MoodyMenuItems pic.twitter.com/yf47dl9EQ6

— Choo-Choo (@ChooChoo_Chewy) January 8, 2020

Tickled eggs #MoodyMenuItems

— Peter B Eberhardt (@whomeverett) January 8, 2020

Corn Beef Harsh #MoodyMenuItems

— Oliver Langmo (@Olivergoesoff) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Pizza eye rolls pic.twitter.com/vvHNYt4ot0

— 🇨🇦Can I Be Mr Canada Now 🇨🇦 (@cleaningtowels) January 8, 2020

Sullen Skink #MoodyMenuItems

— Grant (@UnicornUnbound) January 8, 2020

chicken & slumplings#MoodyMenuItems pic.twitter.com/ZLKhF9Zq6C

— Anastasia Beaverhausen (@ImJacksDejaVu) January 8, 2020

Leave You Wonton More Soup #MoodyMenuItems #LilliesAsian pic.twitter.com/yiL06hgFpF

— Golden Nugget LC (@GoldenNuggetLC) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Wince Pie

— Giles Graham-Brown (@gilesfgb) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Cries pic.twitter.com/i4QobGSA6K

— ⓐⓙ💞 (@AT_Jen321) January 8, 2020

Grump Steak #MoodyMenuItems

— Flamenco Nut ❄️ (@flamencobug) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Fickle Onions

— Snowballs (@a_snowman_4u) January 8, 2020

UnHappy Meal#MoodyMenuItems @WeeklyHumorist

— NostraDonny (@Nostradonny) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Hash Frowns

— I’m Just Dan (@DanielAshley13) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Green Scream’s pic.twitter.com/aGfqn3A5f8

— ⓐⓙ💞 (@AT_Jen321) January 8, 2020

Blue Bleu Cheese Dressing #MoodyMenuItems

— Oliver Langmo (@Olivergoesoff) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems The Moody Burger

— 🌹ꪑꪊꪀꪖ🇨🇦 (@MunaNawabit1) January 8, 2020

Chicken Mar*SAD*a #MoodyMenuItems pic.twitter.com/PFgtrUeA1k

— climate change is real 🔥🌎🔥 (@Fretful_Mess) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Break-up-side down cake pic.twitter.com/dLZyxhTVQ3

— Bneus Meside (@BneusMoimeme) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Scrambled Angst

— Teresa Palmitessa (@TeeCeePal) January 8, 2020

@WeeklyHumorist #MoodyMenuItems Apple pie a la mood pic.twitter.com/Me7aQ6sNfQ

— KK Garrett 💎 🐶 🐕🍫 🎶 (@SpazzyKK) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Creamed Scorn.

— Simian Templar (@SimianTemplar) January 8, 2020

Happeas #MoodyMenuItems pic.twitter.com/r7Rl5LjoGI

— Bradders (@tunesisme) January 8, 2020

Apple Grumble. #MoodyMenuItems

— Թεαηմϯ (@AngryPeanut4) January 8, 2020

Rice P’ed-off #MoodyMenuItems @WeeklyHumorist

— Zachary Howe (@ZackEHowe) January 8, 2020

Gonna Give You Black Eye Peas #MoodyMenuItems

— Jesse Barfield (@JesseBarfieldPi) January 8, 2020

Corn on the Sob #MoodyMenuItems

— Flamenco Nut ❄️ (@flamencobug) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Glum pudding

— spurgle5 (@spurgle5) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems scorn dogs

— DM (@patchdennizen) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Deep Fried Fickle

— Persnickety Ricky 🐓 (@rickchard_rick) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Apple pious

— DM (@patchdennizen) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Dim Irksome.

— Simian Templar (@SimianTemplar) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Dry-raged beef.

— Historically_false (@JanChiLing2) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Egg terrified rice

— David Flett (@David_Flett) January 8, 2020

Eggs overwhelmingly easy #MoodyMenuItems

— Peter B Eberhardt (@whomeverett) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems

Hamburger with a sigh of fries

— MyaButtreaks (@MButtreaks) January 8, 2020

Forlorn On The Cob #MoodyMenuItems

— 💋🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 Welsh Rarebit 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿💋 (@welsh_rarebit1) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Sneer and Cheese Soup

— I’m Just Dan (@DanielAshley13) January 8, 2020

Dark chocolate #MoodyMenuItems

— Alan bud (@budworth_alan) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems BLTeed off!

— 📚Book’em Mary📚 (@MaryG0401) January 8, 2020

Down-In-The Dumplings #MoodyMenuItems

— O’Susanna (@1SassySuzee) January 8, 2020

Mean bean casserole #MoodyMenuItems

— Dorothy Darling (@Dotdarling68) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Bitch and Chips

— Robert McGee (@Robert__McGee) January 8, 2020

Grouchpacho soup #MoodyMenuItems

— Butch (@ButchBrooklyn) January 8, 2020

Batshit Crazy Bread #MoodyMenuItems

— CK (@charley_ck14) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Eggs Over-Tired

— I’m Just Dan (@DanielAshley13) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Chicken Stir Cry

— Rushy💁🏻‍♀️🥀 (@rushna24) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Horse sadish

— DM (@patchdennizen) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems

Sweet & Sour Reduction Sauce over ….

…… over…..

….. over Chef’s shattered hopes & dreams….

— Lee Ann (@LeeAnndelCasti4) January 8, 2020

Ice scream sundae #MoodyMenuItems

— SAMurai Untzalot 🎵 (@Samberg7) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems has anyone said cheesed off cake? 🤔🤔😉

— I MacHunt 🇮🇪🍀😉☘️🍻🍺 (@I_MacHunt) January 8, 2020

@WeeklyHumorist #MoodyMenuItems Quin-wah!! pic.twitter.com/yul5ltRiyf

— KK Garrett 💎 🐶 🐕🍫 🎶 (@SpazzyKK) January 8, 2020

Shepherds Cry #MoodyMenuItems

— KuRtAy ToRoS (@kurtaytoros83) January 8, 2020

I Don’t Want to Guac About It #MoodyMenuItems

— Morgan Pulitzer (@PulitSurprise) January 8, 2020

Satisfried … #MoodyMenuItems pic.twitter.com/9zElHfOM0K

— Choo-Choo (@ChooChoo_Chewy) January 8, 2020

Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Angry Lonely Chicken #MoodyMenuItems

— Panty Claws (@MidniteMadwoman) January 8, 2020

Fish Fil-hate #MoodyMenuItems pic.twitter.com/bECRsQGRyU

— Alisun Jane (@AlisunJane) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Crabby Cakes pic.twitter.com/L0eEFsR1ld

— elyod (@ElyodRj) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems

Huffish and Chips

— €mm€tt C@$$id¥ (@de_emmett) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Bitter Nut Squash

— Monty & Me (@CosyandMonty) January 8, 2020

Brussel Pouts #MoodyMenuItems

— Mister Race Bannon (@MrRaceBannon) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Upbeatroot

— David Flett (@David_Flett) January 8, 2020

Cannellonely #MoodyMenuItems

— Peter B Eberhardt (@whomeverett) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Moodles 🍜

— Canine🐶Aditya (@k9aditya) January 8, 2020

Sad Salad #MoodyMenuItems @KitLively

— Weekly Humorist (@WeeklyHumorist) January 8, 2020

Melancholyflour #MoodyMenuItems

— Chris O’Brien (@bigdweeb) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Melancholyflour

— DM (@patchdennizen) January 8, 2020

Temperamental Tempura #MoodyMenuItems

— Eric Little (@SoCalEricLittle) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems Retorte.

— Simian Templar (@SimianTemplar) January 8, 2020

Boohoorrito #MoodyMenuItems

— Oliver Langmo (@Olivergoesoff) January 8, 2020

Sad Thai#MoodyMenuItems

— Jan. You Wary? 🎶🍻✌❤ (@JanGilson) January 8, 2020

Watermeloncholy #MoodyMenuItems @paul_lander

— Weekly Humorist (@WeeklyHumorist) January 8, 2020

#MoodyMenuItems was originally published on Weekly Humorist

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