Swipe Right, Bub

Swipe Right, Bub

Summary: Logan’s usually tough persona crumbles when he gets nervous before your Tinder date, and it’s clear he has no idea how dating apps work.

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Genre              : Fluff

Logan wasn’t sure how the hell he ended up here. Sitting at a bar, staring at his phone like it was about to explode, waiting for a Tinder date. Tinder. He hated that damn app. The whole swiping thing made him feel like an idiot. And the fact he’d even gotten matched? Probably a glitch.

But here he was, in a flannel that was definitely not “date night material” and boots that still had a bit of mud on them. Real smooth.

When the door swung open, you stepped in, scanning the room for him. Logan straightened up like he’d just been caught doing something illegal, but when your eyes landed on him, you smiled. Shit, he thought, she’s way outta my league. You were looking real nice—too nice for someone like him who smelled like cigars and had seen more fights than anyone should in ten lifetimes.

You waved, walking over, and Logan fought the urge to bolt out of the bar. This was stupid. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.

“Hey, Logan, right?” you asked, sliding onto the stool next to him.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” he muttered, already fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

The awkward silence stretched for a beat, and Logan could feel the sweat gathering under his collar. You looked way too comfortable, like you were doing this for fun while he was sitting there trying not to screw up everything.

“First Tinder date?” you asked, clearly amused by his discomfort.

Logan let out a low grunt. “Somethin’ like that. Ain’t exactly my thing.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” You grinned, leaning in a bit. “You look like the type who’d smash his phone before swiping right.”

“Almost did,” Logan admitted, running a hand through his wild hair. “Had to get the damn app downloaded twice ‘cause I broke the first phone.”

You laughed—like, full-on laughed—and Logan couldn’t help but smirk a little. At least you weren’t bored.

“So,” you started, leaning on the bar, “you’re, uh, not big on technology then?”

Logan shook his head, his fingers tapping the bar in some anxious rhythm. “Last time I trusted somethin’ mechanical, it was trying to kill me. Ain’t a fan.”

“That sounds... dramatic.”

“You’d be surprised.” He took a swig of his beer, trying to calm down the stupid fluttering in his chest. Was he… nervous? He’d fought in wars, been stabbed more times than he could count, but a simple date was making him sweat like a rookie.

You started chatting, talking about your job, your hobbies, how weird the whole dating app scene was. Logan didn’t say much, but honestly, he didn’t mind. You were easy to listen to. You weren’t pushy, not asking him a ton of questions, and it was nice.

But you noticed after a while, because of course you did. “Oh god, I’m just talking your ear off, aren’t I?” you said, looking a little embarrassed. “I haven’t even asked anything about you.”

Logan just shrugged, trying to act casual. “Don’t mind listenin’. You’re good at it.”

Shit, did that sound creepy? He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t think he was being weird.

“You sure? I mean, you probably have way more interesting stories than I do. You seem like the type who’s lived a pretty wild life,” you teased, sipping your drink.

Logan gave a small, gruff chuckle. “Yeah, you could say that.” He didn’t exactly want to drop the “I’ve lived for over a century and fought in every war imaginable” bomb. Not the best first date conversation.

But you just smiled, completely oblivious to his internal struggle. “Well, next round, it’s your turn to talk. Fair’s fair, right?”

“Yeah… maybe,” he muttered, looking away. He wasn’t great at the whole “opening up” thing. He’d rather let you ramble about your dog or how you almost burned your apartment down trying to make pasta. That was easy stuff.

You reached out, patting his arm, and Logan stiffened like he’d just been hit with a stun gun.

“Don’t worry,” you said, with that killer smile of yours. “I’m not gonna grill you. But if you ever wanna share any of those stories, I’m all ears.”

Logan tried to play it cool, but the second you touched his arm, his brain short-circuited. Smooth, real smooth, he thought, glaring at his beer like it was to blame for how awkward he was being.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you glanced down at it, frowning. “Ah, crap, sorry, work’s calling. Gotta run,” you said, standing up. Logan’s heart sank a little. The night was over, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to not screw things up.

But then, out of nowhere, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. And just like that, the Wolverine—the guy who had metal claws and could heal from a damn nuclear bomb—blushed. Full-on, red-faced, no-way-to-hide-it blushed.

“I had a great time,” you said softly. “Maybe we can do this again?”

Logan, caught completely off guard, could barely form a coherent thought. “Uh, yeah. Sure. If you, uh, want. I mean, yeah. Definitely. Next time.”

You smiled, amused at his sudden inability to speak, and gave a little wave. “Cool. I’ll text you.”

Logan watched you leave, still sitting there, his face burning, his heart doing things it hadn’t done in decades. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he muttered to himself, “Holy shit, she’s gonna text me.”

The Wrong Wedding

Summary: You and Bucky accidentally show up at the wrong wedding after his GPS leads you astray.

Pairing            : Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Genre              : Fluff

It all started with Bucky's insistence that his GPS app was better than mine. He was so confident—borderline cocky—about it. We were supposed to be headed to Steve’s cousin’s wedding, which was in the middle of nowhere, somewhere off a dirt road, in a place with more cows than cell towers.

“Trust me,” Bucky had said, flicking his phone screen with his vibranium fingers. “I’ve been using this app for ages. It’s foolproof.”

Clearly, Bucky hadn’t met the one fool who could outsmart even the most advanced piece of Stark tech: himself.

An hour into the drive, I noticed something was off. The trees were looking... different. Like, spooky, “I’m going to kill you and your super-soldier boyfriend” kind of different.

“Bucky, I don’t think this is the way,” I said, squinting out the window. “Did Steve’s cousin plan their wedding in the middle of a horror movie set?”

He just grunted, glancing over at me for a second. “Relax. We’re fine. GPS says it’s just a few more miles.”

I leaned forward and saw the little blinking dot on his phone. “What does ‘Danger: No Road Access’ mean?”

He blinked. “Probably just a suggestion.”

“Uh-huh. And what about ‘Entering Restricted Area: Authorized Personnel Only’?”

Bucky shrugged, his fingers tapping the steering wheel like he didn’t just guide us into a potential military test site. “It’s fine. Steve’s family is kinda military, right? They probably booked a spot near a base.”

“Right.”

Another fifteen minutes passed, and finally, we pulled into a parking lot filled with cars. There were people milling around, music playing, and... was that a fountain of champagne?

“See?” Bucky smirked, throwing the car in park. “Told you.”

I eyed the fancy decorations and wedding arches. “Steve said his cousin’s wedding was supposed to be a ‘rustic, simple affair.’ This looks like Beyoncé’s vow renewal.”

Bucky frowned, glancing around. “Well... maybe rustic means different things to different people?”

I shot him a look but shrugged. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. But if this isn’t the right wedding, you’re making the speech to the bride and groom.”

“Deal.”

As we got out of the car, Bucky fixed his suit jacket, pulling at the cuffs like he wasn’t used to dressing up. I, on the other hand, was just praying my dress didn’t ride up in the wind as we walked toward the entrance.

The moment we stepped inside, something felt... wrong.

First of all, there were way too many people for Steve’s cousin. Secondly, there was a chocolate fountain. With gold flakes.

I leaned over to Bucky, whispering, “You sure Steve’s cousin isn’t like, the secret heir to a throne or something? This feels kinda royal.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. “Yeah, this seems a little... much.”

Just as we were about to turn around, a woman wearing a glittery, over-the-top dress—clearly tipsy—grabbed Bucky’s arm. “Oh my God, you made it!” she squealed, eyes wide. “Natalie will be so happy!”

I stifled a laugh as Bucky’s face froze in horror. The woman didn’t even give him a chance to respond before dragging us toward the dance floor, where the bride and groom—Natalie and some dude we had never met in our lives—were having their first dance.

“Yep,” I whispered, biting back a smile. “We’re at the wrong wedding.”

Bucky glanced at the bride and groom, then back at me. “You wanna leave?”

“Are you kidding?” I grinned. “Hell no. We’re staying.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Why do I let you talk me into this crap?”

“Because you love me, obviously.” I tugged him toward the open bar, smirking. “Come on, might as well enjoy the free booze.”

We spent the next half hour trying to blend in, sipping champagne and stealing bites of hors d'oeuvres that looked way too fancy for regular humans. Bucky kept looking around, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. I, on the other hand, was living for it.

“So,” I teased, leaning on the bar, “when are you going to make that speech you promised?”

His face went pale. “You were serious about that?”

“Dead serious.”

Before he could protest, the tipsy glittery woman from earlier suddenly appeared, now holding two glasses of champagne. “Oh my God, you have to give a speech! You’re practically family!”

Bucky looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. “I’m practically family?”

The woman waved him off. “Natalie will love it! Go, go!”

I shoved him lightly. “Come on, Barnes. Time to shine.”

He groaned but stood up, adjusting his jacket like he was going into battle.

As he took the mic, I could see him searching for something to say. Anything.

“Uh,” Bucky started, clearing his throat awkwardly. “So… weddings, huh?”

I bit my lip to stop from laughing. This was already a trainwreck.

“They’re... great,” he continued, glancing at the bride and groom who were staring at him expectantly. “You know, marriage is like... teamwork. Like... um, the Avengers. You got your Iron Man, who’s always doing his thing, and then there’s Cap—Steve—who’s, uh, really good at giving speeches...”

Oh. My. God.

I buried my face in my hands as Bucky rambled on about superheroes and teamwork, comparing marriage to “coordinating a mission,” and something about “taking down Hydra together.”

By the time he wrapped it up with, “So yeah... uh, congrats, I guess,” the room was dead silent.

Then, suddenly, the bride—Natalie—burst out laughing, clapping her hands. “That was amazing! Best speech ever!”

The rest of the crowd erupted in applause, and I couldn’t stop laughing as Bucky stumbled off the stage, red-faced and glaring at me.

“Did you really just compare marriage to taking down Hydra?” I gasped between fits of laughter.

“Shut up,” he muttered, downing the rest of his champagne. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You love me, remember?”

He grumbled something under his breath, but I saw the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The rest of the night was a blur of dancing, stealing more fancy food, and somehow convincing Bucky to slow dance with me. He wasn’t great at it—he kept stepping on my toes—but seeing the Winter Soldier awkwardly trying to sway to a love song was probably the cutest thing I’d ever witnessed.

By the end of the night, we were sitting by the chocolate fountain, eating cake and pretending we belonged there.

“So,” Bucky said, licking some frosting off his thumb, “wanna tell Steve about how we crashed the wrong wedding?”

I shook my head. “Nope. This is between us. Our little secret.”

He smirked. “Deal.”

As we got up to leave, the bride ran over to us again, giggling as she handed Bucky a massive box of cake. “Take this with you! You guys were so fun, I’m so glad you came!”

Bucky blinked, looking down at the cake. “Uh, thanks?”

And just like that, we walked out of the wrong wedding, carrying more cake than we could eat in a month.

As we got into the car, I glanced over at Bucky, who was still holding the box. “So... GPS app of yours, huh? Foolproof, right?”

He shot me a death glare. “Don’t. Say. A word.”

I grinned, leaning back in my seat as he started the car. “Admit it, Barnes. You had fun.”

He didn’t respond, but the small smile on his face told me everything I needed to know.

And as we drove away from the most ridiculous night ever, I couldn’t help but laugh. Who knew the Winter Soldier could be such a troublemaker?

Claw Machine Master

Summary: Logan becomes obsessed with winning you a prize at the claw machine, but after burning through a hundred bucks and failing miserably, he uses his actual claws to grab the toy, setting off alarms. “Babe, I won, now run!”

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Gf!Human-reader Genre              : Fluff

You and Logan stroll through the arcade, the air buzzing with the sounds of laughter, beeping machines, and the smell of buttery popcorn. It’s one of those rare days where he’s not off saving the world or being a total grump. Instead, he’s decided to channel his inner child, and honestly, it’s hilarious watching this grizzly mutant navigate through a world of flashing lights and pastel-colored prizes.

“Hey, babe, check it out!” he shouts, pointing dramatically at a claw machine that’s blaring “Pick Me! Pick Me!” like a desperate kid at a birthday party. Inside, you see a plush unicorn, all sparkly and cute. It’s practically begging to be won.

“Logan, don’t,” you warn, laughing. “Remember the last time you tried to win me something? You ended up breaking the machine.”

“Yeah, but that was a fluke! This time will be different,” he insists, all pumped up and ready to go. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you know that if he goes in, he’s gonna give it everything he’s got.

“Alright, but I’m standing back. I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime,” you tease.

He throws you a playful glare. “Pfft. How hard can it be? It’s just a claw.”

He approaches the machine like it’s a life-or-death situation. The little screen flashes “Insert Coins,” and Logan pops in a couple of bucks like he’s preparing for war. He adjusts his stance, rolling his shoulders back as if he’s about to take on a Sentinal. You stifle a laugh, taking a step back to observe.

“Alright, watch and learn, honey,” he says, smirking at you. “Claw Machine Master at work.”

The first attempt? A total flop. The claw barely grazes the unicorn before plummeting back down like a rock. Logan’s jaw tightens, his competitive side kicking in. “Okay, that was a warm-up. Just getting the feel for it.”

“Sure, let’s call it that,” you giggle, arms crossed, enjoying the show.

After another few rounds—and about fifty bucks later—he’s starting to get frustrated. “This damn thing is rigged! I swear it’s cheating!” he growls, glaring at the machine as if it just insulted him.

“Or maybe you just suck at claw machines,” you quip. “You’re a master at literally everything else, Logan, but this? Not so much.”

He throws you a playful glare. “Alright, smartass, you think you can do better? Get in there and try!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ll let you have this one. It’s more fun watching you lose your mind over a stuffed toy.”

With a snort, he rolls his eyes and goes back for another attempt. After burning through more cash, it’s clear that this unicorn is tougher than any enemy he’s faced. “Babe, I’m gonna win you this prize if it kills me,” he mutters under his breath.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t! I don’t want you to end up in the emergency room because of a stuffed animal!”

Finally, he steps back, looking completely defeated. You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “This isn’t over!” he declares, his voice rising like a battle cry. “I’ll get that unicorn if it’s the last thing I do.”

Suddenly, you see that wicked spark in his eye, the one that usually means he’s concocting something insane. “What are you thinking?” you ask, half-excited and half-terrified.

“Watch this,” he smirks, and before you can even process what’s happening, he unsheathes his claws, slicing through the air with a snikt that makes everyone turn to stare.

“Logan, no! Don’t you dare!” you shout, but it’s too late. He lunges at the claw machine and, with surgical precision, he reaches into the glass case.

“Babe, I won! Now run!” he yells, grabbing the unicorn as the machine starts blaring alarms like it’s the end of the world.

You grab his arm, yanking him away from the scene of chaos. “You crazy son of a—let’s get out of here!”

Logan, still holding the plush toy like a trophy, bursts out laughing, running like a madman with you right beside him. “I can’t believe I just did that! I’m like the Robin Hood of claw machines!”

“More like the criminal of claw machines!” you shout, laughing uncontrollably as you dart through the arcade, dodging other players and workers who are now chasing after you both.

As you reach the exit, Logan pulls you into a side alley, still holding the unicorn like a proud parent. “That was wild! Did you see their faces?”

You’re breathless, still giggling as you lean against the wall. “You just committed arcade robbery! And for a stuffed toy!”

He shrugs, grinning widely. “It’s worth it for you, babe. Plus, look at this thing! It’s adorable!”

“Logan, I love it, but next time, maybe let’s just buy a keychain?” you suggest, still trying to catch your breath.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughs, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. “Next adventure, babe. We’ll get matching unicorns or something.”

Naughty Secrets

Summary: Logan's quiet crush on you turns into an unexpected obsession when he finds your used underwear in your room.

Pairing            : Mutan!Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note               : masturbation, erotic obsession

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, casually sipping his beer, while you gathered your things to head out for the evening. The soft sound of your laughter echoed around the apartment, filling him with warmth. You turned to him, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?” you said, flashing a bright smile. Logan felt his heart race, a flicker of something deep within him igniting.

“Sure, no problem. Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he teased, trying to keep it light, even though his mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. You rolled your eyes playfully, waving goodbye as you headed out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, a heavy silence filled the apartment, and Logan felt the familiar pang of longing wash over him. With you gone, a potent mix of curiosity and desire consumed him. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the magnetic pull of your room. After a moment, he made his way to your door, heart racing as he pushed it open.

The room was like a shrine to you—the faint scent of your favorite perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with something more intoxicating. As Logan's eyes roamed your space, he stumbled upon a pair of your used panties tossed aside carelessly on the bed. They beckoned to him, their fabric wrinkled and stained, a testament to your absence and a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“God, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his breath hitching as he picked them up, the softness sending shivers down his spine. Bringing them closer, he inhaled deeply, the scent igniting a primal hunger within him. This is so wrong, but I can’t stop.

Thoughts of you flooded his mind—how carefree you were, how you laughed, the way your hair danced around your shoulders. But now, you were just a fantasy he couldn’t shake. “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered, gripping the fabric tighter as he sank onto the edge of your bed.

As he held the delicate material to his face, he savored the intoxicating aroma. His fingers brushed over the fabric, imagining your skin beneath it, picturing the way you moved, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching.

He growled lowly, “What would you do if you knew? Would you laugh? Would you push me away?” But he was lost in the thrill, losing himself in the fantasies swirling in his mind. “Maybe you’d want this too. Maybe you’d beg for it.”

Logan couldn't hold back any longer. He slid a hand down his body, stroking himself slowly, feeling the heat build as he lost himself in the moment. “Just one taste,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the fabric. He licked the material, tasting remnants of you, groaning at the deliciously filthy act.

With every kiss, every lick, he imagined you right there with him. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “I want to hear you moan my name, to feel you beneath me, begging for more.”

His breath quickened, and his grip tightened around himself, pleasure building as he continued to worship the very essence of you. “Just imagine the things I could do to you,” he fantasized, heart racing, pulse pounding. “I’d make you feel so good, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

The thought of your body writhing under his touch, your soft moans filling the air, sent him spiraling deeper into lust. He envisioned pressing you against the wall, feeling your warmth against him as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. “I’d show you exactly what you do to me, how much I crave you.”

Logan surrendered to the dark cravings that had been brewing for far too long, lost in a haze of desire and desperation. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, gripping your panties tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling himself teeter on the edge of madness. “You’re my secret obsession, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The line between right and wrong blurred as he surrendered to the hunger inside him, knowing he’d do anything to have you, to make you his.

Winter Shrink

Summary: When Bucky accidentally gets shrunk to the size of a cat by one of Tony’s gadgets, his girlfriend has to help him navigate life from a dollhouse while avoiding getting squished by her Roomba.

Pairing            : Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Girlfriend-Reader Genre             : Fluff

It started like any other day. Well, any other day when you’re dating a super-soldier who constantly gets roped into Stark’s science projects. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Bucky burst through the door with that serious look on his face — the one that usually meant some weird shit had gone down.

“Hey babe,” he called, his voice sounding... odd. You glanced up, expecting to see him in his usual towering, intimidating form. Except... you didn’t see him.

You blinked. “Bucky?”

“Down here.”

You looked down, and your jaw literally dropped. There he was, Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier himself, but he was no taller than a freaking cat. Maybe even smaller.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. “What the hell happened to you?”

Bucky, standing on your hardwood floor in his tiny combat boots, crossed his arms over his mini vibranium arm like he was still the most badass thing in the room. “Stark happened. Dumbass was messing with some size-reduction tech. Next thing I know, I’m fun-sized.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Like, full-on hysterics.

Bucky’s tiny face twitched. “It’s not that funny.”

“Bucky, you’re like... like a doll!” you choked between giggles. “Oh my god, I can’t breathe.”

“Glad to see you’re taking this seriously,” he muttered, looking thoroughly unimpressed as he stomped over to the leg of the coffee table. Which, at his current size, was basically the height of a damn tree.

You wiped away a tear, trying to regain your composure. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. But seriously, how long are you gonna be like this?”

Bucky glanced up at you, his tiny hands on his hips. “Tony said a few hours, maybe more.”

“Oh great,” you said, trying not to laugh again. “So what, I just have to babysit mini-Bucky until he figures it out?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m still the Winter Soldier, doll. Just… compact.”

You snorted. “Right, right. You’re so scary right now.”

Bucky’s scowl deepened, but before he could say anything else, you heard a low hum from the other room. Your eyes widened in realization. The Roomba.

“Shit, Bucky, move!”

“What—?”

You darted forward just as the Roomba rounded the corner like a robot assassin, heading straight for Tiny Bucky. He turned, eyes going wide as the thing came barreling toward him.

“Seriously? A fucking Roomba?!” Bucky yelped, diving out of the way just in time.

You snatched him up in one hand, clutching him to your chest like an action figure while the Roomba buzzed past. “Holy crap, you almost got squished.”

Bucky’s tiny heart was pounding against your fingers, but he quickly brushed it off, trying to act like he hadn’t just narrowly avoided death by robot vacuum. “I had it under control.”

“Sure you did,” you teased, still holding him in your hand like a living GI Joe. “Should I get you a dollhouse or something? You know, so you have a safe base of operations.”

Bucky shot you a glare. “Don’t push it.”

But the idea of him living in a dollhouse was just too good to pass up. You carried him over to the coffee table and gently set him down, making sure to keep him out of Roomba’s range.

“So,” you said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, “what’s the plan, Mini Barnes? Just hang out and hope Tony doesn’t take his sweet time fixing you?”

Bucky, who had climbed onto a nearby book to avoid feeling like a speck on the table, shrugged. “Guess so. But if that thing—” he nodded toward the Roomba, still mindlessly circling the living room, “—comes near me again, I’m taking it out.”

You grinned. “I’d love to see that. You, taking down a Roomba with your tiny fists.”

Bucky flexed his mini vibranium arm like it was still the deadliest weapon in the world. “Don’t underestimate me just ‘cause I’m fun-sized.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not,” you said, smirking. “You’re still pretty intimidating... you know, for a dude who’s shorter than my coffee mug.”

He sighed, running a hand through his shrunken hair. “This is fucking humiliating.”

“Come on, Bucky, it’s kinda cute.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and if looks could kill, well, you’d probably still be alive because it was hard to take him seriously when he was that size. “Cute?”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep. Cute. Like a little tough-guy action figure.”

Bucky groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

“Nope,” you said cheerfully. “I’m taking pictures later, too.”

He glared at you again. “If you do, I’ll—”

“What? Glare at my ankles?”

“Doll.”

You giggled, leaning down so you were eye level with him, his tiny face practically vibrating with frustration. “Okay, okay, I’ll cut you some slack… for now.”

Bucky, finally giving up on the idea of intimidating you, collapsed onto the table like a dramatic action figure who just lost his day job. “This better wear off soon. I’m not built for this.”

“Well, you are built small now,” you teased, earning yourself another mini-death-glare.

You were still laughing to yourself when the Roomba buzzed by again, and Bucky, from his spot on the table, narrowed his eyes. “That thing’s mocking me.”

You had to physically hold yourself back from laughing again. “Maybe it is. Maybe the Roomba’s the real enemy here.”

Bucky crossed his arms, staring the Roomba down like he was ready to declare war. “First Stark, then the Roomba. Everyone’s out to get me.”

“Well, at least you’ve still got me, soldier.” You winked at him, leaning back on your hands. “I’ll protect you from the big, bad vacuum.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, sure, doll. Whatever you say.”

Control Room

Summary: Bucky’s voice is in your ear, instructing you while the camera rolls; every move is his to command.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) x Female Reader

Note                 : sex tape, masturbation, domination

The low hum of the camera filled the dimly lit room, casting a soft glow over the tangled sheets that lay beneath you. Bucky's voice came through the earpiece, smooth and commanding, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, igniting a fire deep within.

“Alright, doll, you ready for this?” His tone was low, a dangerous mix of anticipation and raw lust that sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. There was something about the way he said doll that made your heart race. Bucky had that effect on you—like he could light you up from across the room, making every nerve sing with desire. “Let’s do it.”

“Good.” He chuckled softly, the sound like a rumble of thunder in the distance. “Now, let’s start slow. I want you to tease the camera for me. Show me what you’ve got.”

You shifted, letting the soft sheets slide against your skin, exposing your body to the lens. The way Bucky watched you felt like a thousand eyes on you at once, but it was only his. You could feel the heat radiating from him, even through the earpiece, and you could practically see the way his dark blue eyes would be glimmering with desire.

“Show me that pretty face of yours, babe,” he urged, the gravel in his voice sending another wave of heat through your core. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as you arched your back slightly, lifting your chest for the camera.

“That’s it, just like that. You look so good when you’re trying to please me,” he growled, and you could hear the slight hitch in his breath. It was music to your ears, knowing that you could bring him to the edge with just a look.

“Now, touch yourself for me,” he commanded, and it was less of a request and more of a demand. You couldn’t help but obey, feeling every bit the submissive under his watchful gaze. Your fingers trailed slowly down your body, teasingly lingering at your thighs before moving to your center, where the heat pooled, begging for release.

“Fuck, just like that. Keep going, don’t stop,” he said, his voice thick with lust, each word dripping with need. You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation and the sound of his voice.

As your fingers moved with purpose, you could feel his eyes on you—every touch was amplified, every moment stretched out, suffocating with anticipation. “Bucky…” you breathed, not sure if you were begging or pleading.

“Keep it up, baby. I want you to feel every second of this. I’m right here, watching you, and I won’t take my eyes off you.”

You could hear the way his breath quickened, matching the rhythm of your fingers. It pushed you further, igniting something primal inside you, fueling the fire that was building. You knew he was waiting, just a heartbeat away from the edge, ready to take you where he wanted.

“Now, get on your knees,” he ordered, the authority in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. You obeyed without hesitation, moving smoothly to position yourself, the cool air brushing against your heated skin. “Good girl. Now, look up at the camera while you play.”

Your heart raced as you complied, the sight of your flushed cheeks reflected in the lens pushing you to the brink. You could hear the low growl from him, and it sent electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body. “Damn, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Bucky…” you whined, desperate for more, for him. “I need you.”

“I know, babe. Just hang tight for me. We’re just getting started.”

With that, he instructed you to switch positions, wanting to take full advantage of the two hours you had set aside for this. “Let’s see you ride that pillow. I want to watch you grind.”

As you shifted again, a wave of confidence surged through you. You positioned yourself over the pillow, feeling the plushness beneath you, imagining it was Bucky’s body instead. You moved slowly at first, teasingly, just like he liked it, but the growing need inside you pushed you to pick up the pace.

“Yeah, just like that. Feel that pressure building? I want you to let go when I tell you to.”

His voice was a tether, holding you close while pulling you deeper into that spiral of desire. You could almost feel his hands gripping your hips, guiding you along, but all you had was the pillow and the sweet promise of his words.

“Now, faster,” he commanded, and you obeyed, the sounds of skin against fabric filling the room. You felt your body respond, heat pooling and building as you chased that sweet release, and Bucky’s breath quickened in your ear.

“Almost there, babe. I can feel you getting close. Just a little more, don’t stop.”

The tension in the air thickened, coiling tighter around you as you desperately chased the edge. “Bucky! I can’t hold on much longer!”

“Then don’t. Let go for me. Now.”

You obeyed, crashing over the precipice he’d crafted with his words and that commanding presence of his. Pleasure shot through you like fireworks, your body quaking in delight as Bucky’s voice drummed in your ear, urging you on, coaxing every ounce of ecstasy from you.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “That’s it. You did so well.”

As your body calmed, you leaned back against the pillows, panting, heart racing. Bucky’s next command was already on the horizon, and you could feel your anticipation building once more.

“Alright, baby, let’s switch it up. Now, I want you to lay back, and I’m going to take control.”

With that, the room filled with a new wave of heat, and you knew the next hour would be even more intense, just as he wanted. The camera rolled, capturing every second of Bucky's relentless hunger for you.