#acnk writes

[allclonesneedkisses]

Summary: This is the story of how it all began between the baker and you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K Rating: T

Tags: fluff, baker Bucky, shy Bucky, shy reader, gender neutral reader, guest starring Steve, comfort, falling in love, love at first sight, angst only because everyone is a little anxious, soft vibes

Masterlist

This is the story of how it all began between the baker and you.

…

The second you stepped into the bakery at five A.M running on three hours of sleep you were a goner. How was anyone supposed to resist a hot man with his sleeves rolled all the way up his muscled forearms elbow deep in a mound of dough? You stood rooted to the spot, just inside the front door long after the last chime of the entry bell had faded, just staring at the most perfect man you’d ever seen. From his short dark hair to his soft parted lips he was an absolute knockout, and that was before you even got to his muscles.

Every time he kneaded the dough his forearms would flex, showing off absolutely mouthwatering muscles and tendons, not to mention the breathtaking tattoo that covered his entire left arm. With how exhausted you were you had no defense against his perfect existence and the added warm light and heavenly smell of baking bread was making the whole experience feel like a scene from a romance novel. You knew you were gawking at him as he worked the dough back and forth on the prep table but you couldn't look away. Your only saving grace was the fact that he hadn't seemed to notice your arrival, his head bowed and his thick eyebrows knit in concentration.

There was a jingle behind you and you almost jumped out of your skin as you were forcibly ripped from your heart eyed trance. Quickly you stepped aside, your blood pounding from embarrassment and surprise as you tried to kickstart your frazzled brain into functioning again. An absolute hunk of a man who was all broad shoulders and blue eyes stepped into the bakery and grinned at you.

“Hi! Sorry we’re not actually open yet but if you give me a moment I’ll be right with you.” Your brain was too confused and overwhelmed to come up with a normal answer so you just gave him a smile and a nod even as he turned away and hurried behind the front counter. You stood awkwardly by the door, your hands gripping your purse strap like it was the only thing keeping you from bolting. The new man jabbed the dark haired beauty in the ribs as he passed, making him jump and scowl at him as he removed a previously hidden earbud. And although their conversation wasn't meant for you, you could clearly hear what was said.

“I swear Bucky, one day you’re going to leave the front door unlocked and someone’s going to rob us blind.”

…

From then on every time you came in your eyes were drawn to Bucky. He always had his head bowed as his perfect hands mixed and poured and cut whatever he was making that day. His flour dusted apron was the only messy part of him as he poured over his delicious creations.

He never said anything to you, although sometimes he’d catch you watching him and he’d give you a shy smile which you always returned before the both of you looked away. You didn't mind his lack of interaction, you weren't sure you’d be able to actually say anything to him with how tongue tied he made you. Time after time you came back, always ordering whatever was freshest knowing that no matter what it was it would be perfect because he made it. And every time you met each other's eyes your heart swelled and you promised yourself that one day you’d talk to him.

This ritual of stolen glances and blushing smiles continued until one faithful day Steve was absent from the front counter. You’d stepped inside, inhaling the aroma of whatever sweet treat was currently baking before you glanced up. Instead of being in his usual place at the prep table Bucky stood behind the cash register, his flour dusted apron a little more smeared than usual and his cheeks a little redder. Maybe it was the lack of Steve or any other customers, or maybe it was the general air of hopefulness between the two of you but for the first time since you started coming there you met his eyes and held them as you stepped forwards. 

“Hi.” Your voice was small as you greeted him, a little more breathy than you’d like. 

But his was equally as quiet, betraying just how nervous he was to talk to you too. “Hi. What can I get for you?” 

Luckily your order was always the same so even though your heart was beating at stroke level you were able to get it out without stumbling over your words.

“One of whatever’s freshest please.”

Bucky's smile widened as he turned and scooped a still hot cinnamon roll off the cooling rack and deposited it in a perfect white paper bag which he placed on the counter. When your eyes met again you couldn't help but flush even warmer and you let your gaze fall as a pretense for digging for your wallet. 

There was a crinkle in front of you as Bucky pushed the paper bag closer. “Uh, It's free today.” 

You paused and looked up in surprise only to find him fiddling with the corner of your bag. “What?” 

He seemed to take a deep breath as if steeling himself before he met your eyes once more. “It’s your thirteenth order. Like a bakers dozen, so the thirteenth is free. Not that I’ve been counting how many things you buy, well I have but not in a weird way. Wait no, that came out wrong. What I mean is you’re a customer and you come a lot and-” As he’d rambled you’d just stared at him open-mouthed as he got redder and redder before he forced himself to stop by biting his tongue, his eyes falling to the counter in embarrassment.

All your shyness and quiet longing was replaced by a spark of confidence that made you feel like a live wire. You gripped the edge of the counter as inspiration struck you and before you could chicken out you went for it. 

“What if I wanted to change my order?” You couldn’t keep the hopeful grin off your face even as you licked your lips nervously.

Bucky's eyes were downcast, his cheeks still flaming with embarrassment from his earlier outburst. “Sure, no problem.” 

You let out a little huff of air and let yourself hope as you watched his face. “Can I get your number instead?”

His hands were wrapped around the bag to pull it away but he released it in surprise as he looked up. His eyes found yours and he must have seen the nervous hope there because his face broke out in an excited smile and he nodded, all of his shyness replaced by joy.

…

And that was how you snagged the love of your life, by ordering a baker's dozen.

@writer-wednesday

[allclonesneedkisses]

Summary: The gang's spending the evening at the saloon, but you and a certain cowboy can't seem to take your eyes off each other

Pairing: Arthur x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K Rating: T+

Tags: mutual pining, flirting, drinking, unwanted advances (just words and light touches), smoking, kissing, banter

Masterlist

@writer-wednesday

“Care for another round Arthur?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the downright venomous look he shot you across the worn camp table. 

“Nah, I know when I’m beat. S’not as much fun when you know you're being cheated.” You gave a feigned gasp of indignation as you laid your well-worn playing cards flat on the table.

“Mr. Morgan, I’m appalled that you’d even suggest that I cheat.” Arthur tried to hide his own smile with a cigarette that he was placing between his teeth but it was a lost cause. He patted his pockets looking for his matches and gave a huff of annoyance when his search came up empty. He readjusted his hat and gestured at you with his unlit cigarette between his fingers.

“Don’t you try and sweet talk me, I know your games and I ain’t playing them.” You arched a brow at that, your smile edging more towards a smirk.

“I assure you, the only game I’m playing is cards, Mr. Morgan.” You dipped your hand into your bodice, pulling out a thin gold lighter from between your breasts. 

You flicked it to life and leaned forwards over the worn table to light his cigarette, your eyes locked. You had to admit that out of all the men in camp Arthur’s sheer self-control was the hardest to break. Not once did his blue eyes stray from yours, even though you knew he had a perfect view down your bodice.

“Are you sure I can't tempt you?” You rested your elbows on the table, your chin balancing in your palms as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. It was only then that his resolve slipped. It was just a fraction of a second but it made your pulse quicken when his eyes darted down to your lips. The curl of smoke dripping from between his teeth did nothing to hide the glance from you. But as soon as it happened it was over and Arthur leaned back in his chair, his eyes focusing behind you as if that had been his intention all along.

…

“Now what about this one, the one with the lady?” You pressed yourself tight against your mark, making sure your breasts were on full display to both him and his companion across the table as you delicately tapped the card in question.

The saloon was packed with customers just off the train and itching for a drink along with those too drunk to stop buying. The burly man you were clinging to was your third victim of the evening. He was too drunk and too enamored by your display of interest that he’d never noticed when you stole his billfold or lifted his pocket watch. In all honesty, he probably wouldn't even notice if you stole his spurs right off his boots, but that was a risk for another day.

He chortled, his laugh loud but not unpleasant as he settled a large warm hand on your lower back to pull you closer. “Alright sweetheart that there’s the queen…”  You tuned out his rambling explanation as his companion stood to grab a couple more beers for the two of them. That was when you saw Arthur watching you from where he leaned against the bar. He had his dark coat flipped back over his hip exposing his low-slung gun belt and cracked leather holsters. He had an empty glass in his hand, one heavy finger hooked over the rim as if he planned to throw it rather than drink from it. He seemed deep in thought, his gaze not altogether focused while still aimed in your direction, but after a moment he seemed to feel your gaze because his eyes locked onto yours. Without missing a beat he raised his empty glass to you as if he were any other man caught staring. The action was slightly spoiled though when Arthur raised his glass to his lips only to find it empty. You smiled and looked away before he could see, not wanting to irk him with your amusement.

As the evening wore on you switched between men, feigning interest in whatever had brought them into town. Most of the gang had either drunk themselves into blissful unawareness or were still working the crowd in one way or another. Arthur was playing poker in the corner with a group of well-dressed horse dealers while you watched him from the corner of your eye. You were done for the night, your pockets and hidden belt pouch were overly full and heavy with your spoils. You had a half-empty glass of cider in your hand, one you’d been nursing for the last half hour while sneaking looks at a certain poker player. 

From his corner seat, Arthur could see the entire saloon, could see Sean making a fool of himself with a couple of ladies on his arms, and Hosea smoking a cigar by the window. But his eyes always came back to you, even as he played the horse dealers for all they were worth. He hadn't missed your surreptitious glances, though he was oblivious to the fact that they were directed at him and not his well-dressed companions. The men were starting to get bored of the game, tired of losing more money than they were winning. A couple of them folded and sauntered over to the bar, settling themselves on either side of you as they called for the bartender.

Arthur lost that round and the next one much to the delight of his companions as his frown deepened and his eyebrows pulled together like thunderclouds before a storm. You were no longer glancing over towards his smoky little corner while the two men chatted around you. Their hands were animated as they drank and inched ever closer to inappropriate territory. Arthur forced himself to look away, his renewed focus winning him back all he’d lost within a couple of rounds. 

He tapped his winning hand on the table and laid it flat with a general nod towards the other players before gathering up his winnings. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure.” His companions grumbled goodnaturedly, too drunk to really mind their losses. Only once he had everything tucked away did Arthur look back towards you. He stood a little more abruptly than he’d intended, not that the scrape of his chair legs could have been heard over the din of the saloon.

…

As soon as the men had settled on either side of you you’d resigned yourself to listening to their boring conversation as you finished your drink. But your patience was wearing thin and both men had boxed you in, one with a foot wedged behind your stool and the other with a hand on your back that was inching downwards. You were used to these kinds of advances, hell you enjoyed them when you were in the mood but you were done for the evening and the men weren't getting the hint. After a glance towards the bartender, he’d offered to close out their tabs to get them to leave but he’d been waved away by the clean-shaven Mr. Werth to your left, who had then let his hand fall to your thigh. 

It was late, and you were tired of playing the interested woman. So with a smile you shifted slightly and looked down at the hand on your thigh as if you’d just noticed it was there.

“Mr. Werth, that is a fine signet ring you have there, mind if I have a closer look?” Lightly you tugged at his fingers as if to bring his hand up to the bar but he ignored your ploy and instead leaned closer. You narrowed your eyes at him, your smile faltering just a hair as the stench of his sour breath met your nose.

His fevered eyes wandered, unfocused but lecherous as he tried to give you a crooked smile that fell flat. “Wouldn't you rather feel it?” The older man to your right let out a loud guffaw as if Werth had told a rather witty joke. You tilted your chin up slightly, your eyebrow rising into a perfect arch like a wave poised above the rocks on the shore.

You turned your working smile back on in full force, even as your words bit into him like spurs. “Only without you attached to it.” At that, the hand of the other man left your spine as he brought his beer to his lips with a cackle. Werth seemed stunned at your answer and you used his lack of attention to pull away from him now that you had an opening. Unfortunately, the shifting of your skirts seemed to rouse him and his hand clamped down on your thigh as his expression darkened. 

“Let it go Werth, there are plenty more women who’ll listen to your ramblings.” 

Werth frowned at his companion. “Shut it, Earl, she’s just playing hard to get.” This time you glared at him, your smile fading as a venomous retort filled your mouth, but you didn't get the chance to spit it at him because Arthur was there, his foot catching on Werth’s stool as he stumbled, yanking the man to the side and forcing him to release you in favor of catching himself on the bar.

“My mistake,” Arthur said, his hands held up to placate any anger. “can't seem to get my feet to go where I want them anymore.” Arthur leaned heavily on the bar, playing the sloppy drunk even as he showily tipped his hat at you with the tiniest of winks.

“Ma’am.” 

This time your smile was genuine, not a mask used for manipulation. You pushed away from the bar, dismounting your stool with haste and stepping away as Werth tried to decide whether or not Arthur was worth the effort of yelling at. You didn't look back to see what happened as you headed towards the saloon doors. Hosea was the only other gang member left in the bar and his brow creased at your hurried approach, his cigar forgotten between his fingers.

“Everything alright?” He asked as you slowed beside his table. 

You let out a short sigh and gave him a half-shrug. “Arthur stepped in before it got… sharp, I’m fine.” You could tell Hosea wasn't completely satisfied with your answer but you continued on, wanting to be away from it all. Your feet carried you out into the warm night and the loud merriment from inside was cut off as you closed the door behind you with a firm hand. The street was empty, too late for anyone who wasn't out drinking or slinking home for the night. The yellow glow from inside spilled out the windows, throwing dark shadows across the horses, painting them with stripes of inky black. It only took you two steps to reach your mare who bumped your hand affectionately with her pink-tinged nose. The night was quiet, the air still, as you waited with your hand absentmindedly combing through your mare's forelock.

You were waiting for Arthur, knowing he’d be leaving soon now that his game had finished. It didn't take long for him to appear, silhouetted in the doorframe and backed by a drunken cheer from inside. As he closed the door his eyes found yours, and even the heavy shadow that fell across his face couldn't hide the persistent upward tug of his lips when he saw you were still there. He stepped towards you, all hints of the sloppy drunk left at the door replaced by an easy stride.

“You waiting for someone?” He drawled, his voice soft in the night as he stood on the other side of your mare, his hands loosely hooked in his gun belt. With practiced ease, you untied your reins and looped them over your saddle horn.

“Not anymore.”

…

The ride back was perfect, the sky was clear and the moon easily illuminated the dirt path back to camp. An occasional breeze carried the smell of distant campfires and trodden grass to the two of you as you rode side by side. However, something felt unsaid, and it seemed to hang in the space between you swaying with the gait of your horses. 

After you crested one of the rolling hills, your mare tossed her head with a huff, scenting something in the air. At the same time Arthur's stallion let out a soft snort and his steps faltered as he pawed at the hard-packed dirt. The two of you pulled up, your eyes scanning the sparse patches of brush across the plains, searching for movement. Your mare shifted slightly under you, her ears pricked forwards like she’d heard something. A jackrabbit shot down the dirt road towards you, frantically zig-zagging as a coyote chased it. 

Arthur's horse snorted loudly and pawed at the dirt, a warning aimed at the coyote to stay away. It was enough to catch the attention of the jackrabbit and the coyote who fled in opposite directions, their chase abandoned in the face of the new danger.

The interaction had only lasted a couple of breaths but it had broken the tension in the air and had helped you make up your mind. With a nudge of your heel, you got your mare to sidestep closer to Arthur who gave you a questioning look. When you hooked your reins around your saddle horn he opened his mouth but the words were never spoken because you leaned across the gap and brushed your lips against his. You pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction but his hand shot out and grasped the back of your neck, insistently pulling you back towards him. His hat completely hid his face in the dark but with his lips pressed firmly against yours you could feel he was grinning. 

Your lips curved to match his as you pressed forwards, your hand landing on his muscled thigh as his nose bumped yours. Your breaths slid between the two of you like cigarette smoke, only escaping and being drawn back in through the small gaps you left.  

[allclonesneedkisses]

Summary: Your bad day takes a turn for the better when you wander into the Arcane Public Library.

Pairing: Viktor x f!Reader

Word Count: 642 Rating: PG, (this is like a teaser for the stories to come)

Tags: fluff, slice of life, library au, summer library vibes, language

Masterlist

“Of fucking course this happens today.”

You stood with your hands on your hips glaring at the completely empty parking spot. To an outsider you probably just looked like an angry woman waiting for a ride but that would be incorrect. You weren’t waiting for a ride, you were looking at where your ride should be. Specifically your car. Specifically your car that had obviously been stolen.

It was mid July and the sun was scorching your exposed skin as you continued to glare. The sound of a distant fire engine blaring seemed to rouse you from your anger and you slumped.

Of all the rotten things to happen today this was the worst. It wasn’t like it had started any better when you’d toppled out of bed. Then there was the garbage disposal issue, tripping over the construction debris in your apartment, oh and the shitty date you’d just escaped from. 

You readjusted your purse, the strap of which was starting to stick to your sweaty shoulder. You glanced back towards the little coffee shop you’d just stepped out of and grimaced. You were certain your date was still in there and you really didn’t want it to seem like you were slinking back to him. There were a couple of chain stores nearby but none of them were open on a Sunday. Your eyes fell on the library and you made up your mind.

Your first breath of air conditioning felt like it revived you and you sighed, feeling your sweat cool on your skin. The building was obviously new, its architecture much more modern especially on the inside but it still smelled like books. Wonderful glorious books that you hadn’t gotten the chance to peruse yet.

Speaking of, you might as well get a library card while you’re here. You glanced around taking in the local artist wall and small sculptures that took up a generous portion in front of what looked like a help desk. There were a couple of people waiting there so you took your time glancing at the surprisingly good art pieces on display.

Eventually you were the only one left in front of the desk and you stepped forwards, a polite smile on your face until you saw who was standing behind the desk.

The man was pale, his face lean but soft in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His brown hair was slightly disheveled as if he had a habit of running his fingers through it. His brown eyes were warm as they met yours and you felt your polite smile become genuine. He was wearing a white long sleeved button up shirt and a dark blue vest that had to be hot even in the well air conditioned building.

When one of his dark brows raised you realized he’d asked you something.

“I’m sorry what?”

“How can I help you today?” He repeated, his smile turning just the slightest bit rueful. As if his appearance alone wasn't making you flustered his accent did things to you.

“Sorry yes, uh I’d like to get a library card.” The process was simple enough. Answering general questions that he typed into the computer as you watched his face with interest. Once everything was done he held out a new blue and white library card to you, which you took accidentally grazing his fingertips with yours. Luckily you hid the tiny thrill that ran through you and you finally looked away from him to rummage in your purse for your wallet.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today?” You tried not to think about how sexy his accent was as you looked up and your eyes landed on a flier pinned to the corkboard behind him and you made a snap decision.

“Yes. I’m interested in the volunteer position.”

[allclonesneedkisses]

Summary: Boba gives you a surprise.

Pairing: Boba Fett x f!ArtistReader

Word Count: 974 Rating: PG

Tags: Fluff, artistic reader, just a soft sweet moment

Masterlist

It was actually Fennec who suggested it. She’d been watching you sketch for the last hour. Bobas audience chamber was cleared out for the day, leaving her idle while the daimyo himself worked on reports from the throne. Her keen eyes had picked up the tiny frown that kept working itself across your lips as you mixed your pastels with your fingers. Noting your physical discomfort towards the chalk that clung to your skin.

“Have you tried painting?” You looked up, your hand stilling over your sketch as you focused on her.

“Why do you ask?” 

She gave a rolling shrug, her braid slipping behind her shoulder with an easy you wish you could capture in your work. “You don't seem to like the way those feel.” She gestured at your chalk pastels that were scattered across your table. As if to prove her point she picked one up and grimaced as it grated under her nail.

“And I can see why.” She set it back down and wiped the chalk dust on her pants, leaving behind a streak of yellow on her otherwise pristine clothes which she frowned at.

With a sigh you set your sketch down and began cleaning off your fingers with the rag you kept nearby. “I used to paint. A long time ago.” Fenic looked back at you even as she tried to rub the yellow chalk off. “But paint’s more expensive and it’d take up too much room.” You couldn't keep the wistfulness out of your voice which was probably what kickstarted the whole thing.

You were never sure if Fenic had taken it upon herself to bring it up to Boba or if he’d been eavesdropping on your conversation, but a few days later Boba sprung it on you.

“I have a gift for you little one.” You were just finishing up breakfast together, your mind already wandering to your day when he’d caught your eye.

You gave him a curious smile and when he offered you his worn hand you took it with a question. “What’s the occasion?” He gently pulled you from your seat, his eyes never leaving yours even as his expression softened just a hair.

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?” You ran your tongue across your teeth but it did little to stop your smile from spreading.

Boba had tucked your hand in his as he guided you through the palace. He’d refused to answer any of your questions, opting instead to question you about your latest work. It wasn't long before he paused in front of a small room adjacent to his personal quarters. You gave him a questioning look since it’d only ever been used for storage.

He gestured at the closed door with a nod of his head. “Go ahead.” 

Skeptically you palmed the door controls and stepped inside, your mouth already forming another question that never left your lips. What was once a storage room had been effortlessly turned into a studio. Blank canvases were neatly leaning against the plain adobe walls, their blank visages inviting you to deface them. An old paint flecked easel stood tall in the center of the room facing a small open window looking out over the dune sea. Beside the well loved easel stood a wobbly table that was covered in supplies. Your legs carried you closer without any instruction from your brain and you reverently ran your hands across the multitude of paints. It was a hodgepodge of mediums, from watercolor to acrylic to more obscure types. There were even a few tubes of Kashyyyk pigment and Rhodian dye, the likes of which you’d only ever seen from afar. 

But beyond the tubes and pallets of paint were the brushes. They were well used, obviously taken care of by their previous artists. Their wooden handles had been worn smooth, any lacquer had long since flaked off leaving them a natural, yet washed out brown. The metal ferrules were dull and dented, a few of them showing signs of rust yet all of them relatively clean and well maintained. Most of the brushes were rounded, their fluffy tan bristles a little uneven and soft from time. But to you they were perfect. They were reminiscent of the brushes you’d learned to paint with in school so long ago. Already broken in by a multitude of strokes, their stubborn existence a testament to their value.

You turned towards Boba with tears in your eyes to find him standing right behind you, his eyes soft and a tiny bit anxious as he waited for your response. You grinned at him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He cradled your form against him, his warm hands landing on your back and gripping you tightly in return.

“Thank you Boba, this is…” you trailed off, unable to voice just how much it meant to you.

Boba gave a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your neck. “The tools may be old but I felt they suited you better than an untouched set.” You huffed out a laugh, loving the fact that he knew you so well and gave him a squeeze before pulling back so you could see his face.

“I love them.” You released his neck to gently brush his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs feeling his worn skin against yours. “Thank you.” 

Boba cupped his hands around yours, engulfing them with his warm palms. “I would give you everything you desire, little one. Even the old and worn relics of the past so much like me.”

You gave a little shake of your head, a rueful gesture that always amused him. “Not old, well loved.” 

He turned one of your palms towards his lips and brushed a chaste kiss against your skin before agreeing. “Well loved indeed.”

@writer-wednesday

[allclonesneedkisses]

Summary: You and Bucky take a moment to 'collect' yourselves after a mission goes wrong.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k Rating: M

Tags: rutting, coming untouched, coming in pants, needy bucky

Masterlist

@writer-wednesday

Bucky had done a lot of stupid things but you were pretty sure this made the top five. When he’d told you the plan you’d made it pretty clear to both him and Steve that it wasn’t going to work but Bucky had assured you they had it under control. Three car crashes, two snipers, and one dead informant later, it became clear they most definitely did not have it under control. In fact, if you hadn’t stepped in you were pretty sure their list of crimes would have extended into the heavy double digits. As it was it was still been bad enough that all you could do was run with Bucky close on your heels.

You’d ducked into a little back alley, the only light coming from a couple of small lamps hanging close to the old brick buildings that surrounded you. The two of you were crammed together in the doorway of an old print house, whose receded back entrance gave the two of you just enough cover from your pursuers.

Both of you were breathing hard, your brows slick with sweat and in Bucky’s case blood, though not his own. You opened your mouth but Bucky cut you off with a gesture. 

“Don’t.” 

You huffed. “Don't what?”

Bucky gave a small shake of his head before letting it thunk back against an old poster whose wording had long since faded into obscurity. “You don't need to say ‘I told you so’, okay?” 

In reply you just nudged his foot with yours, leaving your shoes touching as you nodded towards his face. “I was going to say you’ve got blood on you.” Bucky grimaced and tugged his shirt up, dragging it over his face and exposing a delicious band of bare skin above his pants; among other things that made you want to downright purr. “Though you’re right, I did tell you so.” At your words, Bucky yanked his shirt back down. 

You weren't quick enough to hide your smirk from him and he tried to give you his fiercest scowl in response. “You’re impossible.” Your eyebrows shot up at his word choice and you pushed yourself off the wall to crowd yourself against him.

“I’m impossible?” Your voice was low but the incredulity was clear. You pressed your body harder against Bucky, feeling his every curve and dip against your own as you slotted your leg between his with a pointed nudge against his hard cock. You watched with interest as Bucky’s scowl dropped and his lips parted slightly. 

“I’m not the one getting a raging boner over a failed job.” You let your lips ghost over his throat, letting him feel the heat of your breath as you firmly took a hold of his hips. “I’m not the one who went in with half a plan and a shot of vodka and thought that was enough.” You let your teeth graze his jugular and you felt him shiver against you, his breath catching in his lungs.

You pulled his hips forwards, rocking him along your thigh as you breathed out, “At least I can keep it in my pants.” Bucky had his eyes closed, his brows pinched tight as he focused on the friction you were providing with your leg. You were starting to get a little hot under the collar too but your focus was on Bucky and just how turned on he was in your arms.

You stilled his hips and he grumbled, his eyes blinking open to find yours watching him. With a teasing smile, you tipped your chin at him. “What’d’ya think Buck? You want to come now or later?” He actually seemed to consider it for a moment, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he let his heavy hands settle on your hips.

When he spoke his voice was a little deeper than normal, betraying just how into the situation he was. “What if I want both?” He let his gaze fall to where he was pressed against you, taking in just how well you fit together, black on black, leather on cotton. 

You leaned in and let your lips hover over his, feeling your heart beat ratchet up in anticipation. “Then I’d call you greedy.” With that, you closed the gap as your lips found his and he hummed against you, rolling his hips slightly in your grip. You never could deny Bucky, especially when he was reacting so well for you so you encouraged him to press down harder as you hooked your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans. Outside of your hiding spot, there was only the muffled sound of the city, it’s occupants mostly asleep at this hour, and its nightlife minimal in this part of town. Even though you were sure your pursuers were long gone the two of you kept your noises to a minimum, swallowing each other’s sighs and words of encouragement with swollen lips and experienced tongues. 

Bucky’s hands were all over you, restlessly gliding over your clothed figure as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge. After a while, he had to tuck his face into your neck as he began breathing harder and you whispered how good he was being for you and how much you loved how needy he was. You shifted your leg slightly higher and Bucky shuddered as he latched his mouth onto your exposed neck and sucked to stifle a moan.

Your voice was thin, just above a whisper. “Jesus Buck, you’re really worked up.” At that, he released your neck and took a sharp breath as he gave one last heavy thrust and crushed his lips to yours with a deep groan. He rutted lightly against you for a moment, letting the kiss slow and soften into something more sensual before he pulled back, his eyes a little hazy. You lowered your leg and gently ran your hands up and down his sides soothingly as you simply looked into his content expression. 

He pulled his shirt up again to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on his face before he leaned his forehead against yours. “That was great.”

You smiled and gave a hum of agreement, feeling your own pulse slow back down. “I didn't realise being chased would get you so horny.” 

Bucky scoffed and pulled back, his lips quirking up as he tugged you closer against his chest, settling his hands on your lower back. “That’s not what got me all worked up and you know it.”

You got your arms above his and loosely cupped your hands behind his neck, threading your fingers through his short hair there. “Enlighten me then.”

Bucky’s blue eyes were warm as he gazed back at you and you couldn't help but sink even more against him, enjoying the heat he always seemed to radiate as he smiled softly at you.

“It was you. Watching you jump in and save my sorry ass even though you told me my plan sucked.” You tried not to outright grin, letting your lips settle instead into a smile as you brushed your nose against his. 

Just before you got caught up in another kiss you couldn't help but tease him just a little more. “I told you so.”

[allclonesneedkisses]

Summary: You and Bucky try to beat the heat.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k Rating: T+

Tags: fluff, soft Bucky, pool party, kisses, banter, falling from a high place into Buckys perfect arms, mention of drinking, self indulgent happy moment

Masterlist

This was definitely a bad idea. A very bad, very tempting idea that in no way were you going to miss out on. 

“I thought you promised Steve you wouldn't get in trouble today.” Bucky just shrugged his shoulders and held his arms out for you to jump into.

“Then we don't get caught.”

It was hot, like sweat soaked t-shirts hot and the only pool around was booked for a frat party that was invitation only. So like any good boyfriend Bucky suggested that the two of you sneak in over the back wall. And that’s where you were now. Sitting on top of the breezeblock wall and looking down at a much larger drop than you’d expected.

“C’mon it’s not that far.” He called and you shifted forwards slightly. One of your flip flops slipped off your foot and fell the 10 feet to the ground, hitting the concrete with a rather loud slap that made you shiver.

“I don't think I can do this.” You’d only gotten on top of the wall with Bucky lifting you up and there was no way could climb down on your own.

“Not much of a choice babe.” You glowered at him and kicked your other flip flop off, aiming it at his face. Bucky just grinned and swatted it away, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I promise I’ll catch you.” Bucky made grabby hands at you and you couldn't help but let out a huff of amusement.

You shifted just the tiniest bit forwards, your sundress catching on the rough stone. “If I fall and break my neck I’ll come back as a ghost and wake you up at three in the morning everyday for the rest of your life.” 

Bucky laughed, his smile warming you more than the sun beating down on your exposed skin. “Weirdly specific but okay.” After a breath you gave him a tiny nod and pushed forwards. And then you were falling, and your breath felt stuck in your lungs because it was a really far drop and you were terrified of hitting the concrete. Then Bucky caught you, yanking you against him as he let your momentum spin the two of you around as you clung to him for dear life.

As soon as you could force air back into your lungs you glared down at him and smacked him on the chest even as he grinned up into your face. “Fuck, remind me never to listen to you again.” Bucky got a wicked look in his eye and instead of responding he shoved his face between your breasts and blew a loud raspberry on your sweaty skin. The fear and adrenaline of the moment was replaced with rueful delight as you yelped and wrapped your arms around his head keeping his face smashed into you.

“You’re such a menace.” You muttered, and you felt him laughing against you. He gave you a light squeeze around your waist and you kissed him on top of his head. Then you were back on the ground and Bucky was holding his hand out for you to take even as you adjusted the straps of your little backpack and slipped your shoes on.

Turns out you probably could have walked in through the front gate and no one would have noticed. The pool was packed and everyone either had a drink in their hand or had downed a couple and were looking for more. The music was loud and everyone was partying for all they were worth even as the summer sun beat mercilessly down. There were also more than a few drinking games being played both in and out of the water which added to the overall chaos. Bucky pulled you forwards, his hand securely tangled with yours as he moved through the crowd. 

As soon as you dropped your stuff you made a beeline for the pool. Your skin was already itching for the sweet relief the water would bring and now that you were so close it was irresistible. Just as you made it to the edge of the pool though strong arms scooped you up and you let out a very undignified squawk.

“Bucky what-” But then you were in the air again and crashing down into the water butt first. You came up with a gasp, only to be met with the giant splash Bucky had made beside you. The water was absolutely delicious, washing away the sticky heat and cooling you down almost to a state of bliss. Almost. You got your feet under you and gave Bucky a shove as soon as his head breached the surface.

“You asshole!” 

Bucky shook his head like a dog, water spraying you before he snagged your sun hat from where it was floating away and plopped it on your head with a wet squelch and a rakish grin. “Yeah but you love me.” 

You settled your hands on top of his shoulders your lips pulling into a mischievous grin that Bucky didn't seem to notice. “I dunno Buck, I might need some convincing.” Bucky opened his mouth, probably to remind you just how much you loved him, and you hooked his leg out from underneath him, shoving him under the clear blue water with a splash and a cackle. You released him and stepped back out of reach as he came up with a splutter.

He scowled, blinking water out of his eyes but it quickly melted into a smile as he moved closer until he stood right in front of you. His arms circled around your waist pulling you flush against his bare skin and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. 

He only pulled back far enough to talk, his face still shaded under the brim of your hat. His blue eyes found yours and the look he gave you was pure adoration that made your breath catch. “Okay I admit, I deserved that.” You brushed your nose against his, simply enjoying your closeness before you tangled your fingers into his damp hair and pulled him in for a toe curling kiss. His lips melted against yours, cool from his recent dip under water as his hands wandered across your back keeping you close. 

From behind you there was a loud whoop and a wave of water crashed over the two of you, once again soaking you and leaving both of you laughing as you clung to each other to keep from being swept away. Yes the idea had definitely been bad, but it was so worth it.

@writer-wednesday

[allclonesneedkisses]

You are a Mandalorian. You're a hunter for the tribe and the people of Stronghold. You've taken the vow of the Mandalore and have become both hunter and prey. You're also in love with Paz Vizsla. Go figure.

All stories take place post Nevarro but beyond that you can consider it a different time line. Story order will be specified once I write more.

Series Status: Ongoing

Pairing: Female Mandalorian OC Theera x Paz Vizsla

Overall Rating: Mature eventually Explicit

The Four Keldabes: You (Theera) and Paz have shared a few keldabe, these are the stories of the two that were accidents and the two that were not.

[allclonesneedkisses]

It All Began With a Massage

Summary: It's a normal night out for you in 79's but you end up giving a massage to Captain Rex and inadvertently come up with a job proposal.

Word Count: 460 Rating: T

Tags: Alcohol, drinking, massage

Masterlist

When you’d brought up the idea one night at 79’s you hadn't been expecting anyone to listen to you let alone remember what your drunk ass had said.

“Jesus Rex, I don't know how you can even sleep at night when you're this stiff.” If you hadn't been more than a little tipsy you would have noticed how many eyes were on you and the captain but all your focus was on how insanely tight his shoulder muscles were under your hands.

This wasn't the first time you’d given him a shoulder massage. But this was the first time you’d done it in 79’s, not that it really mattered to you. As soon as you’d hugged him earlier that evening you’d began pestering him to let you work on him. Now you were crammed into a booth with a few other 501’st troopers kneeling behind him as you tried to loosen his muscles.

“I’m used to it, not like I have much- ah, choice.” You shook your head in disgust as you pressed into him with your palms. Slowly his hard muscles were relaxing under your hands and you hoped the tension was melting away from him. If Rex wasn't just as drunk as you he’d probably care more about how many troopers were staring at the two of you but he was, and all of his limited attention was on how good your hands felt.

“Those damn kaminoans, just providing the bare necessities for you guys.” There were a few grunts of approval from the others sitting in the booth. “If the Republic had their shit together they’d make sure you guys were better taken care of.” There were more sounds of agreement and a few clones raised their drinks to you. 

There was a small crowd now, some wanting to talk to Rex and the others in your booth, but the rest were there to watch you work. You were oblivious to the fact that Marshal Commander Cody had also approached and was now leaning against the edge of the booth, his eyes fixed on your face rather than your exposed cleavage where many of the other troopers found their gaze drawn to.

“And who’d want to sign up for that job?” He asked, taking a sip of his almost untouched beer.  

Your hands stilled and you looked over at him, trying to get your eyes to focus on his sober gaze. “Me and anyone who’s ever met you guys.”

The next day you barely remembered talking about it. But, as if you’d spoken it into existence, you were contacted not two days later with a job offer to be a part of the newly formed physical therapy unit on Coruscant and your first thought was ‘ well shit’ .