#smuthubsummercamp23

[navybrat817]

Where We Left Off

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're in love with your best friend who is determined to make the most of your vacation together. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Light angst, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), future fun, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: New AU called Reconnect because why not? Meet Dreamboat and Butterfly. For @the-slumberparty 's June's Monthly Challenge : Bikini and Beach, and Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Vibes: Summer. Thank you @flordeamatista for the inspiration and pre-reading! ❤️ Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a couple of summers ago when you realized you were in love with Bucky Barnes. When you looked back on your friendship, you wondered how it took you so long to realize it. Like how his smile made your heart race whenever he looked your way. Or how you found a solid ground and safe space together, each of you able to confide in the other.

He made you feel safe.

"You're my best friend."

Nothing more.

You stared out the living room window with a sigh, the beach house blanketed by the heavy sound of rain. While it had been bright and sunny just minutes ago, the sky was now dark and misty. You shivered as you wrapped your towel tighter around your wet body, enchanted by the summer storm instead of going to your room to change. It figured you'd buy a new swimsuit for the trip and only get to wear it outside for a minute.

"So much for lounging on the beach."

You smiled softly as you glanced at Bucky beside you, who ran a hand through his long, soaked hair. He hadn't bothered to keep his towel after the two of you rushed back inside, clad in just his blue trunks that matched the shade of his eyes. You scolded yourself for letting your gaze roam along his sun kissed, muscular body.

You didn't have the right to look at him that way.

"Yeah. So much for that," you said, the towel doing little to keep you warm as the air conditioner kicked on. "Maybe our punishment for getting started without everyone?"

Steve, another one of Bucky's best friends, put together a weeklong trip for the gang. So far, you and Bucky were the only two at the beach house. Everyone else wasn't going to be there until the evening. That was why you went for an immediate swim once you picked your room. The storm would likely put the group behind even more and now you were stuck inside with Bucky.

Why had you agreed to show up early?

Why did you have to be alone with him?

Why do I have to love him?

"Maybe," he said with a stretch, drawing attention to his wide chest. "Since it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all, why don't we cuddle on the couch? Catch up a bit?"

"Cuddle?" you scoffed, the sound more bitter than you intended as you turned to face him. "Why would we do that?"

A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before he blinked it away. "Well, for one, you're cold. I can practically hear your teeth chattering," he replied. He wasn't a fan of being cold either, but he always ran warm. "And two, cuddling never bothered you before."

Your stomach flip-flopped. Bucky was right. He was the only male friend you ever snuggled with. Whenever you had a bad day, he didn't hesitate to throw a heavy arm around you and pull you against his chest. On good days, he found an excuse to keep you plastered by his side. He used to do it so often that most people assumed you were dating.

Wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry," you said, giving him the nicest smile you could manage even though it hurt to do so. "Been awhile since it was just the two of us and even longer than that since we cuddled."

The day it clicked that you saw Bucky as more than a friend was the day he introduced you to Dolores. Everyone called her Dot. The beautiful redhead looked good on his arm and you wondered why it wasn't you in her place. But you put on a brave face and smiled, even as your heart shattered. Because Bucky's happiness meant more than your feelings.

It didn't stop you from crying alone in the darkness where no one else could see.

"That's my fault," he whispered, sliding his fingers into his hair again and tugging harshly on the strands. You noticed he did that when he was upset. "And I'm sorry."

"Friendship goes both ways," you pointed out.

"You never faded out of my life when you dated anyone."

They weren't you, Bucky.

"I guess she was different," you smiled sadly.

The two of you still hung out and messaged each other while he dated Dot, but it was always as a group and the daily messages dwindled to chats here and there. You had the feeling that Dot didn't like you very much. In a way, you didn't fault her for that. Maybe she saw through you and knew you wanted Bucky.

Yet he was the one who broke up with her.

"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said as he took your hand and crossed the room to the couch. "I'd be mad at me."

"Right now, I'm just cold," you said, not wanting to dwell on the past. What good would it do?

He nodded slowly, almost like he was disappointed in your response. "Okay."

You shrieked when he pulled the towel away. It wasn't like he hadn't seen you minutes before in your bikini and you swore his gaze lingered on you long enough to consider it staring, but what was he doing? "What the hell?" you asked, but made no move to cover yourself.

Maybe I want him to see that I'm desirable.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked at you, your shivering having nothing to do with the cold. "You said you were cold, so let me warm you up," he urged, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch before he took a seat. "Please?"

Silence fell over you as you sat down beside him. He wasted no time putting the blanket over you and wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. You breathed in his familiar scent and found yourself fighting off tears, a bittersweet swirl of longing and comfort settling in your chest.

Because he embraced you as if you meant something to him.

"I missed you," he whispered, running a hand along your back.

Your heart clenched, focusing on the rain falling outside in a melancholy rhythm. "I missed you, too."

"But we have each other again."

"I wish that were true," you whispered.

Why did I say that?

His hand stilled, but you were too afraid to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You couldn't just blurt out your feelings like this. "I just mean you went from a constant to a fleeting moment in my life," you said, which was the truth. "I don't want things to fizzle after we leave."

Bucky used to be the brightest star in your sky. Then he became the shooting star you missed making a wish upon. But you would forever watch the sky if only to get a glimpse of his bright light.

"I'll make it up to you. I have this whole week to start," he promised, rubbing his chin along the top of your head. "I don't care what Steve has planned. I'm all yours."

You squeezed your eyes shut because you knew you'd cry if you didn't. He wasn't yours. Not really.

"I'm yours, too, Bucky."

I always will be.

Surely Bucky will sweep us off our feet, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[jobean12-blog]

Fair Grounds for Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy AU)

Word Count: 1,772

Summary: Joel takes you to your first real state fair

Author’s Note: This is for @the-slumberparty June Writing Challenge and my item is lemonade and my setting is festival/fair as well as a Summer Bingo Event and Choose your own AU box. I also did one with Biker!Joel and since my friends are super supportive and kind I decided to do Cowboy!Joel too because both are the best! Thank you to Navy and Roo for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ All dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of fun and fluff and sweetness, it gets flirty at the end ;) 

This photo below was taken by Iglesias Mas for Strange Way of Life 😍

Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel insists on picking you up for your date to the state fair, ever the gentleman and loving any excuse to spend more time together.

He knocks and waits, his smile growing when he hears you start to unlock the door.

You open it just enough to say, “close your eyes, Cowboy.”

He takes a step back and pulls his hat off then puts it over his face.

When you step out you rest your hand on his arm. “Okay.”

He takes his hat down and it tumbles from his fingers as he focuses on you, his gaze sweeping from your head to your toes.

“My god,” he says.

You grin and bend down to grab his hat before standing and placing it back on his head.

“Does that mean you like it?” you ask, tone cheeky.

You step closer and press yourself against him. “You look pretty good too…if you can stop drooling and close your mouth.”

He pulls you closer. “You are the sexiest, most beautiful woman I have ever seen darlin’.”

His arms circle around your waist and he kisses you hello, the sweet gesture quickly turning heated as his hands smooth along your curves and he drags your hips into his.

When he releases you he let’s out a sigh, kissing you one more time, quickly, before taking your hand and walking you to his truck.

“If we don’t leave now I’m gonna march you right back into the house and we’ll never make it to the fair.”

You giggle and hop into the truck when he opens the door. The ride is short and it almost takes you as long to find parking.

“Wow,” you whisper as you enter the fairgrounds, “I’ve never been to anything like this before.”

You look around at all the rides, tents and booths, a vibrant array of colors and sounds, and try to take it all in.

“Let’s go have some fun darlin’.”

You nod excitedly and keep hold of his hand as you wander toward some of the booths, stopping at the first game you see.

Joel tips his hat back and gives you a wink before he takes the toy rifle and gets into position to shoot the target.

You try not to giggle when he leaves just a shred of black on the star-shaped target, failing to win you a big stuffed toy and grumbling something about poor mechanics.

“I thought all you cowboys knew how to shoot!” you tease.

“Gimme something with a decent lever action and I’ll shoot the feathers off a duck’s butt at five hundred feet! This thing…”

He looks at the old and rusty toy. “Sucks!”

“Yeah…yeah,” you continue to tease. “And that poor duck!”

You make a pouty face and he smirks, taking your chin between his fingers and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Don’t worry darlin’,” he murmurs against your lips. “It’s just an expression.”

He slips his hand into his back pocket and hands the guy working at the game booth another dollar.

“One more try.”

You keep still, watching the target intently as Joel readies himself and starts to shoot.

With a squeal you throw yourself into his arms. “You did it!”

“Just needed to warm up,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You tap your chin as you try to pick out your new toy. “I’d like the stuffed dog please, the brown and white one.”

The guy at the game booth pulls it down and hands it to you with a smile.

You squeeze the dog to your chest and smile over it at Joel.

He reaches for your hand and you take it.

“Can we go on a ride now?” you ask, tugging on his arm.

“Sure darlin’.”

You spot the Viking swing ride; it’s squealing and creaking motor making Joel grimace as you approach.

“This has gotta be older than me,” he jokes.

“I’m scared but I want to go on!” you tell him.

Pressing yourself into his side the entire time you’re waiting on the line you finally move up to take your seats, suddenly unsure if you want to hold onto the railing or Joel.

“I apologize in advance if I scream really loud and squeeze the life out of you.”

He presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and you narrow your eyes playfully, startling when the ride jerks forward. Without a second through you wrap both your arms around his bicep and smash yourself against his side.

Now you feel his laughter and you would scold him except the ride starts getting into full swing and the only thing you can do is scream with terrified glee.

He tucks his hat away so it doesn’t blow off his head and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

When you step off the ride you lean into Joel’s side to steady yourself.

“Did ya have fun?” he asks.

“Yes!” you squeak. “Everything is a little wobbly though.”

“I got ya darlin’,” he says softly, tucking you under his arm. Let’s get something sweet.”

He leads you over to the food area and you look around the bustling fairgrounds, trying to decide what to get. The air is filled with the aroma of various foods, each one tantalizing and you finally choose something, deciding first to have lemonade.

“The booth is a lemon,” you giggle as you wait on the line. “It’s so cute!”

“Wait ‘til you get a taste darlin’.”

You take a moment to peruse the menu, and your mouth waters with anticipation as you read the enticing choices. Classic lemonade, freshly squeezed and tangy, is available for those seeking a traditional experience. But there's also a selection of tempting twists on the classic, such as strawberry lemonade.

Taking Joel’s advice you go for a classic lemonade, your eyes widening when the vendor hands you a cup so large you can barely close your fingers around it.

Joel takes it from you, the cup looking like a regular size in his large hands.

“Here,” he says, holding the straw up to your lips.

The cool, tangy sweetness dances on your taste buds, instantly refreshing and invigorating. The combination of tart lemons, the subtle hint of sweetness, and the chill of the ice soothes your senses on this warm day, making you feel rejuvenated.

“It’s sooooo good. Oh my god.”

You take a second long sip before he does the same.

“Shit,” he agrees with a chuckle. “I’m almost forgot how good this is.”

You reach for another drink but he swipes the cup away and instead plants his lips on yours.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Sorry darlin’…just need some extra sugar.”

He adjusts his hat and winks.

“Where are we going now?”

You’re back in Joel’s pick-up, resting against his shoulder, your stomach full and your feet tired.

“It’s a surprise.”

He pulls off the road and into a small clearing, stopping the truck at the edge of a cliff.

Before he opens his door he holds up his finger, signaling for you to wait, and jumps out, running around the truck to help you.

“We’re so high up!” you say, peering near the edge. “It’s so beautiful!”

The cliff offers a panoramic view, stretching far and wide. Below, the vast expanse of the earth unfolds, revealing a tapestry of rolling hills, meandering rivers and lush greenery.

While you’re admiring the view he lowers the tailgate and sets down a blanket in the truck bed.

“Come ‘ere darlin’,” he says, placing his hands on your hips to help you hop up.

Once you’re comfortable and resting in his arms he threads his fingers through yours, idly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

The sun, now hovering low on the horizon, casts long, dramatic shadows that dance across the landscape. The golden light bathes everything in a soft glow and the distant mountains are silhouetted against the radiant sky.

You stare out at the breathtaking scenery, but every time your eyes slide to Joel he’s looking at you.

Slowly he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before releasing them and curling his arm around your waist to tuck you against his chest.

You push his hat off his head and run your hand through his hair then dance your fingers across his jaw and over his beard.

He closes his eyes and hums, leaning into your touch. His hand moves from your waist and he slips it under your top, rubbing softly and slowly, making the heat in your body build.

Your hand drops to the collar of his shirt then slides inside the open buttons, his skin warm and smooth. You move lower, popping open the next button, then lower to the next, revealing more of his skin.

“Darlin’” he murmurs, his lips pressing to your neck, lightly nibbling until they meet the shell of your ear.

With a shiver you hook your thigh over his, the thick muscle settling between your legs and creating the perfect friction as you shift against him.

He reaches forward with his thumb and sweeps it across your lips, leaning in to kiss you. At first it’s tender and soft but when his name falls from your lips, desperation in every syllable, he rolls over and covers your body with his, deepening the kiss until you’re a panting mess beneath him.

When he pulls away for air he rests his forehead to yours and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Fuck woman,” he groans as he pushes himself up and slides out of the back.

He extends his hand toward you. “Get in the truck. I’m taking you home.”

You crawl closer and grab the front of his shirt, dragging him back to you and chasing his lips.

“Nope. I can’t wait.”

“Darlin’,” he says softly, but it’s gritty with restraint. “I’m taking you home to bed like a proper fucking gentleman.”

Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck so you can bring his mouth back to yours.

“Right now, I don’t want a proper gentleman,” you whisper along his lips. “I want you, Cowboy, fucking me in the bed of your truck, under the sunset.”

You slip from his grasp and lie back on the blanket invitingly. He sucks in a curse and stares, taking you in, the golden setting sunlight catching like little sparks across your skin, lighting you up like an angel.

With purposeful movements he charges back into the bed of the truck.

“You’re gonna miss one hell of spectacular sunset darlin’,” he simpers as he settles over you. “But I promise I’ll make up for it.”

@sstan-hoe @laineyreads @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren​

[couldntbedamned]

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Reader

Warnings/AO3 Tags: Domestic Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Illness, Reader has a chronic illness, Doctor Stephen, Caretaking, Kamar-Taj (Marvel), Probable Misuse of the Mirror Dimension, Don’t Try This At Home, There are probably Medical Inaccuracies, But it’s about the fluff and comfort, Medicine, Healthy Relationships

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You’re sick and thanks to a weakened immune system, having a hard time resting and fighting it off. It’s absolutely miserable but lucky for you, Stephen is more than willing to step into the role of caretaker and help you feel better.

Author’s Note: I’m back with another super self-indulgent fic featuring Stephen and a Chronically Ill Reader.

Because when sick and feeling miserable, why not hope for a strong, caring, also kind-of-an-asshole magic doctor to take care of you?

The knock at your door shouldn’t have surprised you.

Of course, Wong would have mentioned your absence to Stephen. Not just because he was your friend and cared about you, but because you were also one of the sorcerers who’d studied under him at Kamar-Taj, and he felt a lovely sort of protectiveness for you. Plus, Wong played dirty; if you were feeling resistant to his advice, he would send in Stephen who could easily sway the odds in the librarian’s favor. It was underhanded, annoying, and you absolutely respected it.

You tried to stand up so you could answer the door, but your overwrought throat had other ideas. A coughing fit started, one so bad you couldn’t even wince through it as your body tried to cough up whatever crud your weakened immune system was generating in its pitiful fight against the “upper respiratory infection” (re: common cold) the urgent care doctor had diagnosed you with. You couldn’t even call for him to come in, instead hastily grabbing your glass of water and sucking it down in an attempt to soothe the raw ache in your throat. Times like this had you almost wanting to take the risk of your immune system attacking you again if it meant a day and night without painful, hacking coughing spells.

He must have gotten tired of waiting because the sound of a portal opening echoed in your living room.

“You didn’t have to stop by,” you croaked out. “Stephen, I’m so gross right now.”

“You certainly look gross,” he agreed. He knew you well enough to know that any attempts to say you looked beautiful would be met with disdain. You hated platitudes - you heard too many of them all too often. They were well-meaning, yes, but annoying.

So, you weren’t even mad at him for agreeing with you. You’d showered, obviously, but your eyes were watery from the pain and your hair was a mess. You were wearing your oldest pajama pants with a well-used handkerchief stuffed in the pocket and a loose, ratty long-sleeved shirt. You looked - and felt - absolutely disgusting.

“I’m not worried about that,” he said. “Because you sound even worse."

You watched as the Sorcerer Supreme and Master of the Mystic Arts melted away and was replaced with Stephen Strange, MD. It was always a fascinating shift to observe. Your Stephen was a healer before he was anything else.

“How long as this been going on?”

You held up five fingers.

“Five days, okay.” He pulled out a pen light and a tongue depressor. There had to be something up with those pockets of his, there just had to be! “Stick out your tongue and say ‘ah’.”

Rolling your eyes, you did as he asked.

“Oh, that’s no fun at all. It’s all kinds of inflamed.” His fingers were gentle as they felt around your neck. He produced a stethoscope. You needed to learn that pocket-expansion spell.

Without prompting you breathed deeply and let him listen to your lungs. Then you breathed normally as he moved the diaphragm to your chest.

“Your lungs actually sound good.”

He checked your ears. “And your ears are draining properly, thank goodness. Have you been to see anyone?”

You nodded. “Urgent care,” you managed.

“Can you do me a favor and please stop talking if you don’t absolutely have to, Darling?” he asked. “There’s no need to make it worse and I know it hurts to speak right now.” He looked around and seized on a notebook and pen. “Here. Write down what you need to say. Do you have the discharge papers from the doctor on-call?”

You scribbled down Kitchen table, and wondered if this was your sign to seriously look into ASL classes.

He left and returned with the papers, reading and muttering to himself. “Benzonatate capsules… those are fucking useless. And… ‘gargle warm salt water and take ibuprofen for pain and fever as needed.’ Are they incompetent there?” He demanded of no one in particular once he was finished. “Did they even bother to read your medical history? When someone with your condition, on the mediction you take, gets sick, treatment has to be aggressive. Your body can’t fight it off on it’s own, otherwise, and you’ll just get worse.” He shook his head. “Do they want you to end up in the hospital with pneumonia?”

He was preaching to the choir. You’d heard this rant before from your care team, your support group, and others. But coming from him? It warmed your heart every time. He never made you feel helpless or unable to take care of yourself, but he had no problem stepping up to advocate for you.

You held up a finger and wrote out, They are a good clinic. I did my research before I walked in.

He nodded reluctantly. You continued to write.

You know why they’re so reluctant to just prescribe more aggressive treatments on a first visit. It sucks, but it can’t be helped. I can’t afford a DSB label in my records.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but wisely refrained. You two had been over this a few different times and ultimately he understood that the final say was, in fact, yours.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t like it, but I do understand.” He’d worked in a lot of emergency care as a medical student, intern, and resident, as well as in MetroGeneral’s walk-in clinic when he wasn’t in a high enough position to finagle his way out of it. He knew the realities of it as well as anyone.

He studied you, no doubt taking in your watery eyes, unhealthy pallor, and all-around miserable body language. Then you gave a loud, hacking, desperate-to-be-productive cough and he cringed. “May I please treat you?” he asked. “It breaks the three-percent of my heart that isn’t a black, iced-over exuse for an organ to see you like this.”

You nodded with an amused snort that thankfully didn’t devolve into another fit. Please! I can’t take another night without sleep.

“I know,” he soothed. “I’ll help you. Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll be back.”

Where else would I go?

He smirked. “Behave.”

While he was gone you moved the many empty cups (all water you’d sucked down like it was elixir) to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher. You chucked the icky handkerchief in with the laundry to be washed in the hottest water possible and grabbed a fresh one from your bedroom dresser. It was dainty and feminine but you found yourself missing your father’s all-purpose paisley ones and wished you could pilfer one from his dresser drawer. (You’d even return it. Or, you’d do your best to remember to return it. History was not in your favor in that regard.)

Feeling better about the state of your residence, if not your current health, you sat on your sofa and sipped some water. You kept your breathing calm and level as best you could, not wanting to provoke another painful coughing session. Knowing you’d probably be on your way to feeling better than you felt in close to a week, you finally let your body relax.

Stephen wouldn’t be able to magically fix you, you knew, but he would help you get more comfortable and to a point where you could actually rest and start to recover. Most importantly, however, he always asked for your permission before doing so. That alone meant more to you than you could adequately express.

His instinct was always to heal; it was in the core of his being. But he never pushed or browbeat you into accepting, even when you could tell that he really really wanted to. His respect for your autonomy was one of the greatest gifts he could give you.

He stepped through another portal soon enough and he carried an insulated grocery bag and wore a leather messenger bag with a flat bottom. He set the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and brought the messenger bag with him.

Stephen?

He made a gesture and the Mirror Dimension shattered into being around you.

“Now,” he said with a pleased-at-his-own-cleverness smile. “As we’re in the Mirror Dimension, no can legally prove that I’m essentially committing a felony.”

He withdrew a tinted bottle with the screw cap you preferred. “This is an antibiotic. Take one pill once a day, preferably in the morning after breakfast. Speaking of breakfast, you’ll do well to avoid dairy for a couple of hours before and after taking this.”

Got it.

“And finish the entire bottle,” he added.

You saluted before writing Were these gained by legal means?

Stephen affected a dignified look. "Kamar-Taj is not beholden to Earthly legalities and our residents come from all walks of life. If they feel the need to use skills and knowledge previously learned for the betterment of our home, who am I to judge?"

Only slightly sketchy, then.

“I wouldn’t being you something that was neither safe nor effective, I promise. I would never harm a patient, especially one as precious to me as you.”

I know.

He withdrew a bottle from the bag, this one smaller but heavier. It wore the dosage cap like a little hat.

“The good cough syrup. This, you take right before bed. Once you take it, you need to lay down, because it’s strong.” His expression was serious, as it always was when it came to medicine. “I mean it, Darling. No cooking, no lifting heavy items, and definitely no going out and driving after you take a dose. The bottle is spelled to only administer the prescribed dosage in the provided cup, so there’s no risk of pouring too much or taking it before it’s needed again.”

What’s in it?

“An antihistamine and a very low concentration of codeine. I know you’d rather avoid narcotics and I want to agree, but Sweetheart, you need to be able to sleep right now. Your body can’t sustain this.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Just because you needed to take it, didn’t mean you had to like it.

He pulled out a larger bottle of liquid with another dosing cup. “This isn’t quite the good stuff but it’s suitable for day use and is non-habit forming.” He set it next to the other bottles. “It’s also spelled to only pour the prescribed dosage.”

You smiled, happy at the compromise.

“And last but certainly not least, what is quite literally an ancient Kamar-Taj remedy: throat lozenges crafted by a team of Masters from herbs and honey harvested from our greenhouses and hives. I asked for their recommendation and they insisted I bring you,” he studied the bag. “Very Extraordinary Berry.”

Your eyes were watery again, but it wasn’t from pain.

Thank you so much.

“I love that you value your independence and I know that you’re used to being the care taker in most cases. But it really is my pleasure to help,” he said. “You know I’m not good with words but you’re always telling me I show you much I love you, so hopefully this counts as one of those times.”

You nodded. It's absolutely one of those times.

Stephen stood and checked his watch - a cheap novelty watch that featured Spider-Man and was better suited for a pre-teen. You’d gotten it for him as cheeky little April Fool’s joke but he swore up and down that he loved it and wore it every day.

“It’s close to nine. Why don’t you have a juice bar, take some of the good stuff, and go to bed? I’ll put the groceries away and take care of everything else.”

Bed - with proper sleep! - sounded wonderful.

Okay.

“I brought strawberry and lemon flavors, since you apparently have the palette of my elderly neighbor Estelle.”

Don’t be a hater just because you’re a wuss when it comes to the nirvana that is lemon flavor.

“And I’ll make you Estelle’s recipe for chicken soup.” He pulled out two notecards. “Exactly the way she made it because I’d rather face Dormammu than her ghost haunting me for messing up her pride and joy.”

Oh that sounds good! The instant stuff just doesn’t cut it.

You enjoyed the frozen juice bar more than you’d enjoyed anything since you’d gotten sick. Then you took your dose of “the good stuff” under Stephen’s watchful - but not patronizing - eye. He pushed some water on you and helped you to bed. He even refilled your humidifier and tucked you in.

“Sleep well, Darling. I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

You nodded. “Love you,” you mouthed.

“I love you, too.”

He left and shut the door behind him. For the first time in days, you were able to sleep peacefully.

Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Trope: Hurt/Comfort

[couldntbedamned]

Stolen Moments

Stephen Strange/Reader - Time Travel AU

---------

"You're not supposed to be here."

You knew he'd come, of course. He always came. It broke your heart to send him back each time.

He shrugs helplessly. "How can I stay away?"

"It's not our time, Stephen. You have so many things to live for still."

"But a thousand years of separation?" he asked.

"I'll wait."

"I can't ask you to do that."

You smile gently and caress his face. "You're not asking me, my Love. I'm offering. For you, I will always wait."

"How long until I'm thrown back?" he asks.

You study the spell around his wrist. He's improving every trip, your wonderful, beautiful man fighting time itself.

"A few hours yet."

"Then let us make the most of them," he suggests. "I've missed you."

"It won't be like this forever," you assure him. "One day we'll be together."

Until then all you had were stolen moments.

Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your AU: Time Travel

[couldntbedamned]

Not too particular, not too precise

Written for SmutHub's Summer Camp '23.

Square: Choose Your Vibe (Two Burger Fans Enjoying a Great Burger) ______

"This isn't possible."

Tony put the burger down and closed his eyes as if in prayer.

"Oh, it's not only possible, it's happening."

He cracked an eye open. The self-assured grin hadn't left her face.

I promise you, this will be the greatest burger you ever taste in your life.

He looked from his hands - now messy with aioli, juice from the tomatoes, greasy goodness from the beef patties, bacon jam, and the barely runny yolk of a fried egg - to Sharon and, painful as it was, nodded.

"This is the greatest burger I've ever tasted in my entire life," he conceded.

"Right?!" She enthused with a sip of her beer as if in toast. "I told you! When it comes to burgers, my expertise is unmatched."

She happily started to eat her own, nodding a thank you to the waiter who brought a bottle of ketchup to the table and a chocolate shake without being asked. Clearly, she was a regular here.

"You know, you're a lot less smug about this than I would be," he said after he finished taking another giant bite of the monstrosity on his plate.

"Why would I gate-keep to a fellow burger aficionado?" She took a bite of her own. "Anyone else, yes. You? Absolutely not."

"I almost hate you," he said after swallowing. "This is obscene."

"But so, so delicious!"

"I cannot believe I have been out-burgered."

Sharon grinned. "Maybe you'll have the best taste in pizza?"

"You're on!"

He'd win the pizza war for sure. But in the meantime he'd order another Lucky 13.

_______

[couldntbedamned]

the earth is moving, but I can't feel the ground

Written for SmutHub's Summer Camp '23

Square: "Who's idea was this?"

_______

"Are we completely crazy for this?" Sharon asked. The champagne bottle was empty and their clothes were tossed all over the penthouse. She couldn't even remember who'd made the first move.

"I mean, I'm due for some crazy, personally," Tony said, adjusting the pillow under his head. "What about you?"

It startled a laugh out of her. She could stand to live a little and Tony made her feel alive. "Yeah, I think I am, too."

He grinned and pulled her back into his arms.

[bubblessunshinehoney]

🥹🥲my heart got heavy, the sadness of reader...

Where We Left Off

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're in love with your best friend who is determined to make the most of your vacation together. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Light angst, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), future fun, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: New AU called Reconnect because why not? Meet Dreamboat and Butterfly. For @the-slumberparty 's June's Monthly Challenge : Bikini and Beach, and Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Vibes: Summer. Thank you @flordeamatista for the inspiration and pre-reading! ❤️ Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a couple of summers ago when you realized you were in love with Bucky Barnes. When you looked back on your friendship, you wondered how it took you so long to realize it. Like how his smile made your heart race whenever he looked your way. Or how you found a solid ground and safe space together, each of you able to confide in the other.

He made you feel safe.

"You're my best friend."

Nothing more.

You stared out the living room window with a sigh, the beach house blanketed by the heavy sound of rain. While it had been bright and sunny just minutes ago, the sky was now dark and misty. You shivered as you wrapped your towel tighter around your wet body, enchanted by the summer storm instead of going to your room to change. It figured you'd buy a new swimsuit for the trip and only get to wear it outside for a minute.

"So much for lounging on the beach."

You smiled softly as you glanced at Bucky beside you, who ran a hand through his long, soaked hair. He hadn't bothered to keep his towel after the two of you rushed back inside, clad in just his blue trunks that matched the shade of his eyes. You scolded yourself for letting your gaze roam along his sun kissed, muscular body.

You didn't have the right to look at him that way.

"Yeah. So much for that," you said, the towel doing little to keep you warm as the air conditioner kicked on. "Maybe our punishment for getting started without everyone?"

Steve, another one of Bucky's best friends, put together a weeklong trip for the gang. So far, you and Bucky were the only two at the beach house. Everyone else wasn't going to be there until the evening. That was why you went for an immediate swim once you picked your room. The storm would likely put the group behind even more and now you were stuck inside with Bucky.

Why had you agreed to show up early?

Why did you have to be alone with him?

Why do I have to love him?

"Maybe," he said with a stretch, drawing attention to his wide chest. "Since it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all, why don't we cuddle on the couch? Catch up a bit?"

"Cuddle?" you scoffed, the sound more bitter than you intended as you turned to face him. "Why would we do that?"

A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before he blinked it away. "Well, for one, you're cold. I can practically hear your teeth chattering," he replied. He wasn't a fan of being cold either, but he always ran warm. "And two, cuddling never bothered you before."

Your stomach flip-flopped. Bucky was right. He was the only male friend you ever snuggled with. Whenever you had a bad day, he didn't hesitate to throw a heavy arm around you and pull you against his chest. On good days, he found an excuse to keep you plastered by his side. He used to do it so often that most people assumed you were dating.

Wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry," you said, giving him the nicest smile you could manage even though it hurt to do so. "Been awhile since it was just the two of us and even longer than that since we cuddled."

The day it clicked that you saw Bucky as more than a friend was the day he introduced you to Dolores. Everyone called her Dot. The beautiful redhead looked good on his arm and you wondered why it wasn't you in her place. But you put on a brave face and smiled, even as your heart shattered. Because Bucky's happiness meant more than your feelings.

It didn't stop you from crying alone in the darkness where no one else could see.

"That's my fault," he whispered, sliding his fingers into his hair again and tugging harshly on the strands. You noticed he did that when he was upset. "And I'm sorry."

"Friendship goes both ways," you pointed out.

"You never faded out of my life when you dated anyone."

They weren't you, Bucky.

"I guess she was different," you smiled sadly.

The two of you still hung out and messaged each other while he dated Dot, but it was always as a group and the daily messages dwindled to chats here and there. You had the feeling that Dot didn't like you very much. In a way, you didn't fault her for that. Maybe she saw through you and knew you wanted Bucky.

Yet he was the one who broke up with her.

"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said as he took your hand and crossed the room to the couch. "I'd be mad at me."

"Right now, I'm just cold," you said, not wanting to dwell on the past. What good would it do?

He nodded slowly, almost like he was disappointed in your response. "Okay."

You shrieked when he pulled the towel away. It wasn't like he hadn't seen you minutes before in your bikini and you swore his gaze lingered on you long enough to consider it staring, but what was he doing? "What the hell?" you asked, but made no move to cover yourself.

Maybe I want him to see that I'm desirable.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked at you, your shivering having nothing to do with the cold. "You said you were cold, so let me warm you up," he urged, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch before he took a seat. "Please?"

Silence fell over you as you sat down beside him. He wasted no time putting the blanket over you and wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. You breathed in his familiar scent and found yourself fighting off tears, a bittersweet swirl of longing and comfort settling in your chest.

Because he embraced you as if you meant something to him.

"I missed you," he whispered, running a hand along your back.

Your heart clenched, focusing on the rain falling outside in a melancholy rhythm. "I missed you, too."

"But we have each other again."

"I wish that were true," you whispered.

Why did I say that?

His hand stilled, but you were too afraid to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You couldn't just blurt out your feelings like this. "I just mean you went from a constant to a fleeting moment, in my life" you said, which was the truth. "I don't want things to fizzle after we leave."

Bucky used to be the brightest star in your sky. Then he became the shooting star you missed making a wish upon. But you would forever watch the sky if only to get a glimpse of his bright light.

"I'll make it up to you. I have this whole week to start," he promised, rubbing his chin along the top of your head. "I don't care what Steve has planned. I'm all yours."

You squeezed your eyes shut because you knew you'd cry if you didn't. He wasn't yours. Not really.

"I'm yours, too, Bucky."

I always will be.

Surely Bucky will sweep us off our feet, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi