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xpouii · 5 years

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Tentacletober Day 6

Hello everyone! This is so far the longest and most *interesting* to write! Several tags will be below the read more because they themselves are nsfw. Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging and the general support I’ve received so far!

Prompt: Tentacle Sounding

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Remus

Warnings/Tags: NSFW, sounding, Intrulogical, full NSFW tagging beneath the read more!

Tags: Urethral Sounding, gagging, deepthroating, bulging (stomach and throat), dry orgasm, multiple orgasms, double penetration, technical spitroasting, bit of a size kink

Remus was an oddity, and Logan didn’t like oddities—or he liked them too much, some might say. He had never had much interest in the darker side of creativity; like Roman, Remus was just a lot of puff and nonsense, and Logan really had no time for that. However, unlike Roman, Remus was different. Anatomically, to start, and most interesting of course. Remus had tentacles. He was an octopus in the same way Deceit was a snake and Virgil was a spider. Thomas’ more dark sides—a ridiculous nickname—had animal traits, and where Virgil’s was as subtle as stridulation, Remus was an eldritch dream come true.

Logan had taken to following Remus, subtly, at a great distance; Remus was never the least bit aware of his surroundings, making him an easy target for case study. Logan kept meticulous notes about his observations from how quickly Remus could annoy Deceit to the way he tended to prefer heights and—of course—the tentacles.

Size. Shape. Color. Probable weight, mass and density given what could be observed with the naked eye.

As he recorded more and more, Logan grew less and less satisfied. He wanted to experience more. A good scientist can’t just rely on his eyes, and Logan had four senses more just aching for a piece of the action. Logan decided to be direct, but then he remembered Virgil’s warnings about direct approaches when it came to social exchanges, and it gave him pause. He would need to be cautious, gather more data, find out what Remus liked beyond eating deodorant and annoying Deceit with excessive physical affection. Logan was reminded briefly of Patton every time Remus got touchy, and that didn’t help quell his desires at all.

Logan tried to get closer, linger longer, and he was fairly successful, gathering snippets of information that might end up helping him in his quest. With success, comes carelessness, and Logan found himself following Remus to his room, peeking through the half-open door.

He paused in his watching to scribble down notes, and when he looked up, Remus had vanished. As he leaned closer to the crack in the door, Remus appeared just on the others side. Logan jumped, falling back on his butt, “R-Remus!”

“If you wanted to see me naked, Logan all you had to do was ask,” the chaotic side purred. “Come in.”

Logan watched Remus saunter back into his room, and then, with a grim resolve, he stood and followed, closing the door. Remus was watching him, hands on his hips, “Remus…”

“Yes, Logan?”

Logan cleared his throat, “I’d like to… inquire about your extra… appendages.”

“Logan are you asking to see my cock?”

”NO!” Logan calmed himself with a breath. “No… I’m asking about the tentacles.”

Remus giggled, “Well they love attention almost as much as I do. Should we go off to your little lab?”

“Oh, no this is fine,” Logan said. “If you feel comf-“

Remus was already naked with the wave of his hand, and he held his hands out like a circus ringmaster as the tentacles sprouted from his back and began to slide over his body. He held Logan’s gaze, lifting one hand to beckon him closer, “Come on.”

Logan stepped forward, eyes glued on the nearest green entity as it lifted away from Remus’ chest and moved to meet Logan. Logan lifted his hand slowly and touched the tip. It was smooth, slick and surprisingly warm; it shivered lightly under his touch and Remus’ face shifted. The tentacle nuzzled against Logan’s palm and up to wrap around his wrist, leaving a clear trail in its wake, “What is this substance?”

Remus shrugged, “No idea! I use it for lube.”

Logan’s cheeks colored but he kept his eyes on the tentacle as it worked up his arm; in his pants, an uncomfortable tightness was forming, and he shifted, trying to ignore it in favor of continuing his exploration.

“Do you like it?” Remus asked, smirking.

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses with his free hand, “Yes. They’re… fascinating. What… can they do?”

Remus grinned, all teeth, “Now you’re speaking my language now. Why don’t you take off your clothes and I’ll show you.”

Logan blinked, but it was an easy decision, losing his clothes in exchange for a continued experience. He undressed methodically, leaving Remus a bit impatient, but when he was down to his glasses, Remus was smitten. The chaotic side moved to his bed, stretching out on his back. “Come over here, Moonbeam, make yourself comfortable.”

Logan hesitated, but he crawled up onto the bed and Remus helped him into place. Logan straddled Remus’ thighs, the blush on his face spreading over his body, “Is this-?”

“Perfect,” Remus purred. “Now just hold still and let them feel you.”

Logan stiffened when the first tentacles touched him, sliding up his legs to his hips, his waist, his chest. One particularly curious appendage came close to his face, bumping against his lips. Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Remus before the tentacle repeated itself more insistently. Logan parted his lips to comment, but the tentacle slid between them and pinned his tongue down. Logan lifted a hand and the tentacle quickly retracted, “That was…”

“They get a little friendly,” Remus said. “Too much?”

Logan looked down, where the tentacles were wrapping around his legs and waist, up his back to cradle him. They avoided his twitching cock, and Logan was too fascinated to be embarrassed about his own body’s reactions. “No… no it wasn’t too much.”

Remus slid his hands behind his head, reclining as he watched the tentacles manhandling the other side. “Tell you what, why don’t you keep your hands to your sides, making a fist. If you need a break, just open your fist.”

“That seems reasonable,” Logan said, and when the tentacle returned he opened his mouth a bit wider for it, happily inviting it back in.

Remus’ own cock twitched as he watched the logical side, all wrapped up in him, taking a tentacle into his mouth—and he appeared to be loving it. Much more than Deceit who usually spent the experience rolling his eyes and muttering catty insults around anything Remus put in his mouth. Logan was so much more fun. Realizing he was literally daydreaming through an actual fantasy, Remus snapped out of his thoughts and looked back up to the scene unfolding above him.

Logan’s head lolled back and the tentacle pressed further, bulging his throat in a slow, tantalizing wave as Remus watched. The logical side made soft noises of discomfort, but his hands staid curled at his sides. Remus reached with a smaller tentacle and delicately plucked his glasses from his face as tears began to slide across his cheeks, setting them aside. Remus wasn’t actually an animal, after all; he could be thoughtful. Logan’s left hand spasmed, opening and closing, and Remus caught it instantly; the tentacle retreated—still poised over Logan’s red, slippery lips—so Logan could breathe, and he did so in greedy, rasping gasps. Remus watched him with careful eyes, almost losing it when Logan opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out, asking—begging—for more. Remus grit his teeth and watched the tentacle breach Logan’s mouth once more, earning a muffled moan that quickly devolved into a soft guttural choking sound. Remus might actually be in love.

When he pulled the tentacle from Logan’s mouth with a loud, wet pop, Logan looked down and seemed disappointed; the tentacle wrapped loosely around his neck, not interested in straying too far. “I thought we’d do something a little more-“

“There’s more?” Logan breathed.

Remus practically cackled as he sat up slightly, the tentacles holding Logan in place, “Oh Moonbeam I am going to change your life. Have you heard of sounding?”

“You mean Depth Sounding? I have, Did you know famous author Mark Twain took his pen name from a common term in Depth Sounding, by the mark of twain. It means-“

“I do not mean Depth Sounding,” Remus said. “Well… not exactly. You’re going to enjoy this a lot more than… whatever that was.”

“D-“

“Ah!” Remus scolded, holding up one finger. Logan fell silent, watching him with sullen curiosity. “There’s a good boy. Now just hold still, and remember your signal.”

Logan nodded, positioning his hands back at his sides. Remus sent out another tentacle; it traveled down his body and onto Logan’s, sliding up his thigh. Logan watched the thin tentacle snake around his cock, coiling around the head and spreading a thick layer of its shimmering slick. The tip was small, four—maybe five—millimeters in diameter, and Logan felt that delicious pang of nervousness when it first nudged at his slit. He exhaled as the tentacle entered him, a fullness that was just shy of unpleasant. Logan let out an open-mouthed groan, but his eyes were locked on the tentacle that slowly disappeared into him, wincing when it came against a stronger resistance. Remus reached down and repositioned Logan’s cock. “Relax,” he purred.

Logan did and with a pop that he felt without hearing, it went further, and the unpleasant pressure gave way to a deep, unattainable stimulation and made Logan grab Remus’ wrist and shake, “Remus! I-“

“Shhh I know,” Remus cooed, leaning in to kiss him. “I know Moonbeam. Let them be sweet to you. Just relax.”

Logan swallowed and took a deep breath, letting his hand go back to his side and curl into a fist. His thighs tensed around Remus’ thighs when the tentacle began to move, first subtle little writhing and then a slow, slippery in and out that made Logan whimper, but it was good, so good. Remus bit his bottom lip, “Ready for more?”

Logan opened his eyes, and looked down at Remus, “I don’t think I can take another-“

“Not there,” Remus said, and one of the tentacles that had been holding Logan’s thighs slid up and around the logical side’s ass.

The other tentacles spread Logan’s thighs just a bit, and the one around his throat pulled gently, leaning him forward. Logan exhaled, “Yes… please.”

The first tentacle made Logan hiss. It was cold, comparatively, and the stretch and burn while fascinating—and pleasurable—were undeniably new. Everything was slow, tentative, the tentacle inside Logan’s cock had gone still, letting each sensation come independently. When the stretch had sloped down to a thick, pleasant slide, Logan whined, “What’s the matter, Moonbeam?”

“M-more,” Logan gasped. “More please.”

“Greedy greedy,” Remus said, but he obliged, and soon another tentacle was teasing at Logan’s entrance, making the logical side’s breath catch in his throat. The first tentacle had found his prostate, and Logan let out a yelp of surprised pleasure, his head falling forward and his disheveled hair obscuring his eyes. Remus moaned and nudged Logan, “Sit up, arch your back.”

Logan muttered a half-hearted complaint but he did as he was told, rebalancing his body; his head went back this time, his body drawn out like a piano wire. Remus took in the gorgeous sight as the tentacles inside moved, all at once, writhing and pushing and caressing. Logan mewled, and his eyes opened; he looked at Remus for one moment before he visually noticed the tentacles moving inside of him, two eager bulges under his skin. Logan’s mouth fell open and Remus took his hand, pressing it to the spot. “Doesn’t it feel good, Moonbeam? All filled up with me? Letting me explore you.”

Logan panted, unable to form anything coherent; his head fell back and he opened his mouth. There was that tongue again, and Remus could have cum just from the sight—and the thought—of four tentacles driving into his new bedfellow. Logan, Logic, stiff, stick-in-the-mud, no-nonsense Logan was a trembling sobbing mess, being sounded and throat fucked and double penetrated by the very agent of entropy and decadence. It was poetic, in theory and in practice, and Remus allowed himself a self-indulgent moan as he returned his focus on disassembling his little android. The tentacles attacked Logan’s prostate from both sides, and Logan choked on the one down his throat, letting out a garbled little moan as the appendage pulled back, drool and slick rolling down Logan’s chin onto his heaving chest. He panted in a deep, rugged, ruined voice before opening his wide mouth again, silently begging.

Remus left him waiting for a moment, drooling and heaving, “Look at you, Pavlov’s Slut, how cute.”

The teasing and moaning tapered off then, and Remus focused his efforts. Soon Logan’s entire body was tensing and quivering in a rapidly deteriorating rhythm, his untouched cock twitching and jumping with even the tiniest movements of Remus’ tentacles. The climax rolled through him like an avalanche; Logan choked on the tentacle in his mouth but his hands stayed curled into fists as pleasure tore through him, deep, hard and dry. Remus’ expression turned feral at the promise of making Logan cum again without employing any of his usual magic. He pushed Logan through the dry orgasm, drawing it out until Logan was whimpering and squirming. Then, Remus let go, the tentacles holding Logan upright moved away and he fell onto his back, the tentacle leaving his mouth. He panted and sputtered and sobbed. The two tentacles abandoned their assault of Logan’s insides until all that was left was the tentacle he’d been using to sound Logan’s brains out. As it retracted, Logan arched and shouted, surprised and probably a little frightened by the intensity of the orgasm that ripped through him. Remus moved away as Logan came, painting his stomach, thighs and the dark sheets beneath him. He was a trembling, writhing mess, and Remus couldn’t help but smiled fondly, “My, I’ve made a mess.”

Remus moved back in, reaching to stroke Logan’s hair, but the other side caught his wrist, pushing him away. He sat up, waving his hand to clean up the sheets—and himself, “Thank you Remus.” His voice was hoarse, shaky, weak, and when he tried to stand he instantly collapsed. Remus caught him, but Logan pulled himself together—and away—and picked up his glasses from the nightstand.

“You know, it’s customary to engage in some after care after this kind of-“

“Thank you, again, but I won’t be needing that,” Logan said, his tone even and pleasant. He used his magic to dress, and left the room on shaky legs.

Remus watched him go and tried not to be insulted.

#tentacletober #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #not safe for sanders #fanfiction

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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 7 years

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Running from the Past: Chapter 12

Summary: Female!Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escaped a year and a half ago without being seen when the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound she was kept in for 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She has decided to stay with the Avengers in the hopes they can help her retrieve lost memories. She’s now recovered all of her memories which have revealed all of her history with Bucky. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Language, violence/fighting, traumatic past, torture/experimentation, angst, slow burn, FLUFF Word Count: 1,881 A/N: We’re approaching the end, friends. There will be an epilogue that’s filled with various one shots from the immediate future, before the events of Infinity War take place. There will be some NSFW parts, so I’ll post an 18+ version and a minor-friendly version.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

The Past

Using the last of your strength, you lifted a hand to his face and gently caressed his cheek. Black spots swam in your vision.

“I don’t blame you, Bucky,” you rasped, eyes locked to his. “I… love… you…” you managed to get out before the blackness overtook your vision completely and you lost consciousness.

The Present

Your eyes opened suddenly, consciousness returning to you all at once. To your surprise, you weren’t in the med ward. No, you were still next to Bucky. In fact, he had his arms wrapped tightly around you as he slept. It seemed as though you hadn’t roused him from his nightmare before your memory triggered. You knew, even after everything that had happened between you weeks before, he worried about you deeply and would want to ensure your health and safety; he would definitely have taken you to the med ward.

With your final memories in place, his behavior finally made sense to you. He still felt guilty over what happened to you.

“Fool,” you muttered, smiling at him. To your shock, his eyes opened wide, suddenly on high alert.

He blinked a couple of times, brows knitted together, as though he didn’t believe his eyes. He squeezed you slightly as if to confirm that he was not, in fact, going crazy and that you were indeed lying in his arms. Apparently, he decided you were actually there. One second there was a Bucky in front of you and the next he was five feet away from you, hand over his mouth, eyes widened in shock.

“Alright, let’s clear some things up before you start flipping your shit,” you said, propping your elbow up, holding your head in your hand. “No, we didn’t do anything. At least, I don’t think we did. I was unconscious until about two minutes ago. I came in here to try to wake you up because you were having a nightmare. I, apparently, failed in that regard. But what you said during your nightmare triggered a memory... my last memory before Hydra wiped my mind and starting using me as a test subject. When I regained consciousness we were lying here like we were when you woke up,” you explained. “You seemed to be sleeping pretty damn nicely, too,” you said, throwing him a mischievous smirk.

“You remember?” he asked, voice filled with dread.

You sighed. He was going to make this difficult, wasn’t he? “Yes, Bucky. I remember,” you said, standing up and walking over to him. You stretched as you walked, sore from lying on the ground.

“Why are you so casual about this? How can you be making jokes? I failed you, (Y/N),” he said incredulously.

“Do you remember the last two things I said to you back then?” you asked, staring him dead in the eyes.

He looked away. “Yes, but-”

“No buts,” you said forcefully.

He stared at you as though you were dense. “I tried to kill you! I would have if Royton hadn’t called me off!” he said, anguish clear in his voice. “This is why I kept my distance. I didn’t want to accidentally trigger that memory. I didn’t want you to remember- remember that pain- remember that I failed at the one thing-”

“Bucky!” you said loudly, cutting him off. You grabbed his right hand and placed it palm-down onto your chest, directly over your heart. “I’m alive. I’m alive thanks to you. I would have died in the mansion on that last mission if you hadn’t come back to save me. Even if I had been killed in the Hydra base after, it would have been The Winter Soldier and Hydra that did it, not you. Not Bucky Barnes. Not the man who kissed me on the rooftop while we danced. Not the man who caught me as I fell from a fourth story window. Not the man who made love to me after we returned from particularly difficult missions that we both needed to unwind from. Not the man who loves to share stacks of banana and chocolate-cinnamon pancakes with me. Not the man I fell in love with,” you said, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

His eyes flicked between his hand on your chest and your eyes, as though he was trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not. Slowly, he reached up with his metal hand to cup your face. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch as he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, the cold metal causing goosebumps to rise on your arms.

“I love you too,” he said quietly. Your eyes opened and you stared at him in surprise. He smiled faintly at the look on your face. “And I’ll spend every day trying to prove that I deserve you,” he said reverently.

“You’re an idiot,” you said. His face fell and you rolled your eyes. You reached up and pulled his head down and claimed his lips with yours. He tasted just like you remembered. You smiled into the kiss. Remembering is wonderful sometimes, you thought happily. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You kissed him deeply, putting every feeling you had towards him into the kiss. He matched your intensity. After a minute you broke away, both panting slightly.

“You have nothing to prove,” you said seriously. “Not to me. Never to me,” you said, staring him down.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, finally gracing you with his dazzling smile. The sight made your breath catch in your throat.

Suddenly, your vision swam and you were glad he was holding onto you.You clutched at his loose black pajama shirt tightly, willing the world to right itself.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, concerned. Even with the world spinning around you, you smiled at the sound of your name on his lips.

“I think I need to lie down,” you said as you rested your head against his chest.

“Alright, I’ll carry you back to your roo-”

“No,” you said, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“No?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I want to stay here with you. I always slept better next to you,” you said, smiling slightly at the memories. “And if possible, I’d prefer we use the bed, not the floor.”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” he said, grinning broadly as he lifted you up bridal style and carried you the short distance to the bed. Instead of throwing you down playfully like you expected him to, he set you down gently. He grabbed his pillow and blanket from the floor and tossed it over you and onto his side.

“Could I borrow something to sleep in? I don’t want to wear these stupid gym clothes even a second longer but I also don’t want to walk all the way back to my room to get something to change into. Not that I think I could make that trip right now without falling and giving myself a concussion anyway,” you said.

He smiled down at you. “Of course, Doll,” he said, turning to go rummage through his drawers. For the first time since you re-met him, your heart fluttered happily at the nickname and you didn’t have to question why. He turned back around a moment later, throwing a plain, soft t-shirt to you. Well, at you. It hit you square in the face and you heard him chuckle.

“I was gonna let you watch me change, too,” you said, glaring at him as you removed the shirt from your face.

“Oh, that’s not fair,” he grumbled, pouting. A grown man, pouting.

“I guess you’ll have to think about that next time you consider assaulting me with a t-shirt,” you said, smiling. “Now, turn,” you said, making the turn-around motion with your pointer finger. He rolled his eyes at you, but turned around anyway. You thought about getting off of the bed to change but thought better of it as your vision was still spinning. You quickly peeled off your shorts before yanking off your top. You slid Bucky’s shirt over your head and pulled it down as far as it would go. It skirted your thighs. You took a deep breath- it smelled just like him. Sandalwood, metal, and earthy tones you could never quite place.

“Alright, it’s clear. You can look,” you said, pulling the comforter and sheet back so you could slip under the blankets. “You joinin’ me or what?” you asked teasingly, looking up at him. He hadn’t moved.

The look in his eyes made you freeze. His gaze roamed from your face to your exposed thighs and everything in between. The heat of it warmed you, too, your cheeks warming up.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” you said, not as snarkily as you’d intended.

He bit his lower lip, giving you one last look-over. “You’re killin’ me here, Doll,” he said, voice husky.

“James Buchanan Barnes. It’s 3:00 am and I can barely see straight. Please just get in the bed and cuddle with me already,” you said, exasperated. “Debauchery can happen another night.”

He chuckled at you. “Alright, alright,” he said as he pulled his shirt off. You gulped. He smirked at you as he tossed it into the laundry basket without looking. It made it in, of course. Your gaze roamed over his chest, greedily admiring his chest and arms.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he mocked. He crawled into bed and under the blankets next to you, smiling at the sour face you were making at him for using your own jab against you. “C’mere,” he said, pulling you closely to him. You crossed your arms and pouted halfheartedly against him until he started planting soft, loving kisses all over you. Eventually, you smiled and relented and wrapped your arms around him, turning to face him. After a moment he stopped, placing one last kiss into your hair. He stayed there, rubbing smooth circles into your back with his metal hand. “I thought I’d lost you. When you weren’t in that Hydra base that year and a half ago,” he said solemnly.

“Your faith in me is inspiring,” you said sarcastically. Then, more seriously, “You can’t blame yourself if anything happens to me. I know you’d never hurt me. If anything happens, you have to remember: I’m a grown woman who makes her own decisions. I know it’s not going to be easy, but you’ve got to stop blaming yourself if and when things happen to me,” you beseeched him. You gently brushed his hair out of his face, scratching his scalp gently.

He closed his eyes, sighing happily into your touch. After a moment, he opened his eyes, face serious. “I know, Doll. But I’m always going to try to protect you,” he said, kissing your forehead.

“If either of us needs the protecting here, it’s you, babe,” you said, chuckling at him. “I don’t fight against killer robots or demigods or whatever it is you guys do nowadays,” you teased, kissing his neck softly.

He chuckled at you, chest rumbling. “Alright, how about we agree to do our best to protect each other, then?”

“Now that, Sergeant Barnes, I can agree to.“

Epilogue (NSFW/18+)

Epilogue (SFW/minors)

If you like this series and want to be tagged in others like it, check out this post!

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#Bucky x Reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #Winter Soldier x Reader #winter soldier

257 notes · View notes

green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 7 years

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Running from the Past: Chapter 7

Summary: Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escaped a year and a half ago without being seen when the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound she was kept in for 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She has decided to stay with the Avengers in the hopes they can help her retrieve lost memories. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2,013 Warnings: Language, violence/fighting, traumatic past (mentions of torture/experimentation), angst, slow burn, fluff A/N: This man is a sin. I love him so much. Please send help. Also, WE HAVE SOME FLUFF, PEOPLE. I REPEAT, WE HAVE SOME FLUFF Sorry this chapter is so short. I didn’t want to try to lengthen it and risk ruining what I wrote. I promise the next one will be longer.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“Would you like to go get cleaned up, (Y/N)?” Wanda asked, stepping forward slowly.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you say, smiling slightly. With that, most of the tension in the room dissipated.

“Alright. You can use my room,” Wanda said, extending her hand to you. You looked at it for a moment before taking it. Wanda beamed at you as she led you out of the room and out of the medical ward and to her room, one floor up.

The boys watched you leave- Bucky still refused to meet your eyes.

The shower had been heavenly. You realized it’d been about two days since your last one and cringed internally. When you finished getting changed and got out, Wanda was sitting on her bed, waiting for you with a conspicuous amount of pillows and blankets.

“Wanna watch a movie and pig out on popcorn?” She asked you, grinning broadly.

“Hell yes,” you responded, needing the distraction.

She laughed and picked up the mountain of blankets. “Grab the pillows?” she asked, pointing to the pile with her foot. You could barely see her behind the pile of blankets.

“Sure,” you said, chuckling. You picked up the mound of pillows, crushing them to your chest just so that they’d squish down enough for you to carry them all. You followed her out of her room and through the halls, trying your best to not trip over anything you couldn’t see due to the pillows obstructing your vision. After a pretty short walk, you arrived at a large living space. In the center was a huge, comfortable looking couch. Other comfortable-looking but smaller couches were placed strategically nearby it. A TV taller than you was mounted on the other side of the room.

“Wow,” you said, jaw dropping.

“Yeah, it’s a bit much, but it’s great for movie night,” Wanda said, throwing the blankets down on the couch with a huff. You tossed the pillows down next to them, still gawking at the room. Expensive-looking speakers were placed carefully, guaranteeing fantastic surround sound quality.

Wanda laughed at your expression and snapped her fingers near your face. “Earth to nerd. Come in, nerd,” she said, smiling when you focused your attention on her. “Do you want to pick the movie or choose the snacks?” She asked you.

Your stomach rumbled. You’d never gotten to eat your pancakes. “Snacks,” you said without hesitation. You could grab some food from the kitchen while you waited for the popcorn to pop and gathered junk food.

“Alright. Kitchen is down that hall. Right at the first intersection. Go straight and it’ll be on your left a little farther down. Can’t miss it,” she said as she walked over to the expanse of shelves lined with everything from VHS’s to Laser Discs to DVD’s. It was a truly impressive collection- you’d have to look at it later.

Wanda’s directions had been accurate and easy to follow, so you returned a short while later, stomach full of a sandwich you’d made yourself from the ingredients in the fridge and arms laden with snacks and drinks.

Wanda laughed when she saw you. “What, are we feeding a small army?” she said, gesturing to the food in your arms.

“Hey, I like having options... and I don’t know what you like yet,” you said defensively.

“Uh huh, likely story,” she said, plucking one of the bags of freshly popped popcorn from your arms. You rolled your eyes and unceremoniously dumped the snacks on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I think you’ll like the movie I picked out,” she said, smirking.

“Oh god, what did you choose?” you asked, glaring at the screen as though it had just called you a dirty name.

“You’ll find out,” she said, cocooning herself in blankets and pillows. You did the same, getting comfortable.

“Shit, we forgot the remote,” you said, glaring at it on the opposite edge of the coffee table from your spot in your perfect blanket cocoon on the couch.

“Oh no, whatever shall we do. It truly is the end of the world,” she said, grinning smugly at you as the remote gently levitated off of the coffee table and into her hand.

“Right, yeah. I forgot,” you said, grabbing the water you had placed close to yourself for ease of access. Wanda rolled her eyes at you and pressed play.

Turns out she chose The Maltese Falcon- the 1941 version. She said it was for the purpose of irony. You rolled your eyes at her and threw a handful of popcorn her way. She froze it midair and sent it pelting back at you at twice the speed. You squawked indignantly, calling a party foul. Powered popcorn throwing shouldn’t be allowed on movie night. A couple kernels had made their way down the shirt she’d lent you.

You were in the middle of digging them out of your bra when Steve and Bucky walked in.

“Oh man, I love this movie,” Steve said, too distracted by the screen to notice your inelegant position.

Bucky did, though, and hid a smirk behind his hand. You felt heat creep up your cheeks from the embarrassment and flipped him off, which only made him smile wider. His hand was unable to hide the way his smile made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“I missed all of it the first time I tried to watch it, though. Some creep was talkin’ during the Army Recruitment promotion. I told him to shut up so he took me out to the back of the theater and beat the crap out of me,” Steve said, grimacing at the memory.

“That sounds like you,” Wanda said. “Minus the being beaten up part.”

“I remember that,” Bucky said suddenly, turning his attention away from you to look at Steve, smirk still plastered on his face. “Didn’t I show up just in time to save your sorry ass?”

“I had him on the ropes,” Steve said, indignant.

“Sure you did, punk,” Bucky said, punching Steve’s arm good-naturedly.

“Mind if we join you? I haven’t seen this movie in 76 years,” Steve said, practically batting his eyelashes at the both you.

“Of course, Steve,” Wanda said, patting the spot beside her. He sank happily down on the couch next to Wanda and reached for her bag of popcorn. She slapped his hand away, only to relent when he gave her a sad, lost-puppy look.

You were surprised to feel the couch move next to you. You looked to your left; sure enough, Bucky had taken the open spot next to you. He was close. Wanda and you had opted to sit on one of the smaller couches because you thought it would only be the two of you- the big couch was ridiculously huge for two people.

Even though he was close, he seemed careful not to touch you.

“I actually never saw this,” Bucky said suddenly. He was quiet enough that only you could hear. “I was deployed before I could see it,” he said, eyes on the screen.

Well, he was talking to you again. It was an improvement. You wondered what had happened between the medical ward debacle and now. To your right, Steve tried to stifle a laugh at a joke Wanda had made.

Ah, right. Steve. Steve probably happened. You thought to yourself.

"I always forget how old you two are,” you said, watching P.I. Sam Spade get grilled by Polhaus and Dundy.

He snorted softly. “I would fight you on that, but you’re right. We’re practically fossils,” he said, giving you a sideways grin.

Pretty attractive for a fossil.

What. Where did that thought even come from? Well, it wasn’t wrong. Bucky was attractive. So was Steve. Any person with eyes could see that. But why did you even have that thought? You panicked silently, eyes glued to the screen.

You all watched the movie in silence for a while- it was uncomfortable for you, but companionable for the other three.

Eventually, though, you relaxed back into the couch and enjoyed the movie. Bucky and Wanda were the perfect audience- gasping at the surprising parts, crying out their shock and anger when there were betrayals, and coming up with wilder and wilder guesses on who the culprit was. Steve grinned at them knowingly as they watched, having already seen it. To his credit, he kept his mouth shut and didn’t spoil anything. You suspected it was because he watched it 76 years ago and had forgotten most of it, but you kept that opinion to yourself.

You were so exhausted from the day and so completely comfortable on the couch, snuggled in your blankets and pillows, that you drifted off to sleep.

You’d been having an odd dream. You were a P.I. like usual, but everyone spoke with a terrible Brooklyn accent. Everything was in black in white, including your very attractive, muscular male client who never wore a shirt. Also, everyone was wearing a hat. It was weird.

You awoke slowly. The first thing that came back to you was your sense of smell. You inhaled deeply. It smelled like sandalwood, metal, and something else you couldn’t quite place. Mostly, though, it smelled familiar. Then your sense of touch returned. Your hand twitched as your body did the biological version of a system check, and your fingers clenched around thin fabric. Clothing? You brain registered that your face was resting on something hard and warm, and that your left thigh was pressed up against something that didn’t feel like the blankets and pillows you were under. Then, you realized, it was moving. Finally, your sense of hearing came back.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Time to wake up. Movie’s over,” said a voice very, very close to your ear.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked up at the source. Bucky looked down at you, smiling faintly. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and had ended up snuggling against him while you slept. Your right hand was holding onto his shirt.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, moving some of your hair out of your face gently with his metal hand.

The touch left electricity in its wake and you flew backwards away from him, across the couch. You saw his smile falter for a moment, but he quickly coached it back into something resembling neutrality.

“We’re good, guys,” he said loudly. Steve and Wanda poked their heads around the corner and eyed you up and down. Satisfied that you weren’t a murderous Hydra sleeper agent, they walked into the room.

Something about the way Steve was smiling set you on edge. You yawned before addressing him. “What is it, Steve? You have a terrible poker face,” you said as you hugged a pillow to your chest and set your chin on top of it.

Steve sighed. “Well, we think we’ve come up with a solution to your sleep situation. See, the problem is that we have personal rooms that lock from the inside and cells that lock from the outside. We don’t have personal rooms that lock only from the outside. At least, not yet. I’ve already tasked FRIDAY with helping to build one for you, but it’ll be a little while, and you’ve made your stance on the holding room very clear. So, short of throwing you in a room and creating a huge fire hazard and death trap by blockading it, we’ve come up with a solution. We just... aren’t sure you’ll buy it,” he said, watching you warily.

“Well, lay it on me. I can’t decide until I hear it,” you said, liking this conversation less and less the longer it lasted.

“You’ll stay in my room, with me” said Bucky from the other side of the couch.

You were sure you hadn’t heard that right. You looked from Bucky to Steve who gave you a grimace, to Wanda who gave you a half shrug-half nod of encouragement, and then back to Bucky, who raised an eyebrow at you expectantly.

“What the fuck, guys.”

Chapter 8

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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Running from the Past: Chapter 9

Summary: Female!Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escaped a year and a half ago without being seen when the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound she was kept in for 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She has decided to stay with the Avengers in the hopes they can help her retrieve lost memories. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2,109 Warnings: Language, violence/fighting, traumatic past (mentions of torture/experimentation), angst, slow burn, implied smut A/N: Guys, I’m so excited! I’ve been waiting to write this chapter since I started the series. I hope you enjoy it. Ah, yes. Murder. So romantic. PLEASE click the youtube link and read while you listen. It’s worth it, I promise. Once again, the Russian is in “quotes and italics”

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

A mellow jazz track played loudly over the speakers and the pain the likes of which you’d only ever felt one other time in your life exploded inside your brain.

You groaned in frustration, hitting the pause button on your phone. You fought the urge to kick something. The dance you’d been practicing for hours had to be memorized by tomorrow and you just couldn’t learn the steps no matter how hard you tried. You stalked back and forth in the small room, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to relieve some tension. You regretted being stuck in the safe house. You couldn’t even leave to get some fresh air.

The politician you were after was eccentric. He was throwing a ball. An actual ball. A masquerade, in fact. You needed to get close to the man during the dancing- when he was minimally guarded- but faced one huge problem: for the life of you, you couldn’t learn the damn dance. You were fine with a simple two step at the minister’s gala almost a year ago, but this was far more complicated.

You slumped to the ground, momentarily defeated.

“This wouldn’t be a problem if you’d been trained in the Red Room,” said a voice from the doorway.

You turned and glared at the Soldier. “Yes, and if ‘ifs’ were poppies we’d both be dreaming,” you seethed, standing. Your self-pity-induced break was over and you needed to get back to the grueling task of learning the complicated waltz. You restarted the song, going through every motion, starting from the curtsy to your invisible partner. You made it all the way through the first ten steps before you forgot what to do next. It was a new record.

“You suck at this,” the Soldier said mockingly from his position at the kitchen table.

You were about to rip him a new one, but then an idea struck you. You knew what would make this easier.

A partner.

“Come here,” you said suddenly.

“I don’t take orders from you,” he said coldly.

“It wasn’t an order, it was a request,” You said, biting back your temper. Recently his behavior around you had been odd- colder. The progress you’d made in getting to know him seemed as though it had all but evaporated. “I need to learn this choreography and it’ll go much faster if I have a partner to practice with,” you said, taking a step closer to him.

“I refuse,” he said, tensing up.

“Then I will fail my mission,” you said, voice shaking ever-so-slightly. The tremor in your voice seemed to get his attention. He looked at you, face unreadable.

“Fine, have it your way,” he said, standing suddenly. Before you could react he’d grabbed your hand and dragged you into the open space you’d cleared in the living room. He turned suddenly and grabbed your phone out of your other hand and pressed play before throwing it on the couch. He placed his metal hand on your waist and tugged you closer so that your chest was nearly flush with his. “Straighten your back,” he said, running his metal fingers up the curve of your spine. Your thin shirt couldn’t protect you from the coolness of his metal fingers. You shivered, arching your back slightly against his touch.

You looked up into his eyes- had they always been such a striking blue?

“You know how to dance?” you asked as the song played its intro. Normally he’d be bowing to you and you’d curtsy back.

“Who knows?” he said evasively, handing returning to your waist. The music started in earnest and the Soldier took the lead.

He definitely knew how to dance. He led you around the room slowly in time with the music. Pressure on your hand or waist told you where you needed to step a second before you moved.

“When did you learn the choreography?” you asked, distraught. You’d been practicing for hours but you only knew what the next step was thanks to his unspoken directions.

“I learned it while you were in here bumbling,” he said and spun you out gently, then reeled you back in. You twirled into his chest. Now you were both facing the same direction. He took your free hand in his and you moved together for a few steps in that position. “Now, focus on what you’re doing,” he whispered into your ear.

You fought back a shiver as he spun you back out again. You both stepped forward and met in the middle, returning to the normal waltz position. “I do not bumble,” you said indignantly.

Suddenly you world went sideways as he dipped you low, metal hand gripping your thigh as his flesh arm supported your back. You tried to ignore the way heat pooled between your thighs on account of the position you were in and the look he was giving you.

“Yes, you do,” he said, eyes boring into yours. The emotion in his eyes- you usually only ever saw it in flashes. This was something new. He pulled you back up gracefully and took a step away before giving you a shallow bow. He took your left hand gently in his metal one and brought it to his lips, brushing them over your knuckles softly. The entire time, his eyes never left yours.

Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest.

“Thank you for the dance,” he said, straightening. He dropped your hand and walked away, leaving you a mess of emotions.

You performed flawlessly, even with the giant black costume dress you had to wear impeding your every move. By the end of the dance, every pair of masked eyes were on you and Senator Bradley, the eccentric host of the party. If everyone else was charmed by you, then the Senator was enthralled. To no one’s surprise, he asked for you to join him upstairs the second he’d finished greeting everyone his secretary deemed mandatory. You smiled disarmingly at him and accepted his outstretched arm.

You took the private elevator up two levels to his private floor. He was kissing you messily, your masks bumping together, before the doors even opened. You fought the urge to punch him in the throat.

“Wait, wait. I want to put on a show for you,” you said silkily, kissing his neck as your hands roamed down his chest. You’d have to go through a whole bottle of mouth wash later. The doors opened and the two of you spilled out of the elevator. “Where’s your bathroom? I need to... freshen up,” you simpered, winking at him suggestively.

“Down the hall on the left, sweet thing,” he said as he looked you up and down, clearly undressing you with his mind.

“I’ll be right back, naughty boy. Be ready,” you said, swinging your hips as you walked away. The bathroom was where he said it was. You locked the door behind you and pushed the plug down in the drain and let it fill with water. While you waited for it to fill, you stripped off your elegant ball gown, giving it a dirty look. You left the black mask on, however. It perfectly complemented the tight leather suit you had on. You pulled out a small vial and threw it and the ball gown into the tub where they both began dissolving immediately, turning into acidic black sludge. You smirked. Hydra gave you all the best toys. You pulled off the caps of your boots’ tall heels to reveal long, sharp black spikes. You turned the water off and smiled. Let the games begin.

Distracted by your clothing as he was, the Senator hadn’t seen you coming. Nor had he seen the steel spiked heel until it was in his jugular. You carried the body to the tub, trying your best to avoid getting blood on yourself. You placed Bradley in the tub slowly, careful to avoid splashing yourself. The skin and clothing hissed when it hit the acid. You stepped back and admired your handiwork once you’d finished. The tub would erode eventually, but not until after the Senator became a chunky acidic soup. You left the room and made your way to the balcony.

You looked up and groaned. Climbing the wall was the easiest way to the roof, which was where your extraction team was waiting for you. But that thought didn’t make scaling the wall any more appealing. If you fell this time, the Soldier wouldn’t be there to catch you. Your heart twisted at the thought. This was your first solo mission in a while and you realized you missed having him on assignments with you.

It took you a few minutes to get to the top of the wall. You didn’t dare look down. You yelped as someone reached over the edge and pulled you up and onto the flat roof. You prepared yourself for a fight but the clouds shifted and revealed the Soldier.

“Soldat, what are you doing here?” you asked, looking around for any threats.

He held a finger to your lips, shook his head, and took your hand, walking backwards as he led you away from the edge of the rooftop. The intensity in his eyes... you’d never seen this much emotion in them before. You stopped when he did, trapped by his gaze, eyes locked on his as he took your right hand in his metal one and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him- just close enough that your chest brushed his. Faintly, music began playing downstairs. It escaped through the windows and drifted softly up to you on the roof. He began spinning the both of you slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

“This is one of my favorite songs,” he said quietly as you spun on the spot.

It took a second for the weight of that statement to sink in. “Soldat, your memories are returning?” you asked, eyes widening.

He nodded, face twisting in sadness. “Please don’t call me that. Not today, Doll,” he said, cupping your face with his right hand.

“They’ll know,” you said, heart filling with fear for him.

He smiled sadly. “Yes, they’ll find out eventually.”

“I'll lose you to their brainwashing,” you said, distraught.

“Hey, hey. Don’t panic yet, Doll. It might not completely stick, like yours didn’t,” he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

Your eyes widened. “How did-”

“I suspected from the moment I met you as the Soldier, but something about you intrigued me, even then. I think it’s thanks to you that this is happening. I’ve been getting memories back slowly whenever I’m around you. You spark something deep inside of me, Doll,” he said, smiling so sweetly at you that you could feel your heart break then and there. “I’m sorry for treatin’ you so bad recently. I was afraid of what was happening to me, and what it could mean for you,” he said, eyes apologetic.

You ignored the sense of dread settling in your stomach, threw caution to the wind, and stood up on your toes.

He met you halfway, lips crashing against yours. You pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. You both searched each other’s faces before you reached up, tangled your fingers in his hair, and pulled him back down into the kiss. He pulled you against him with his right arm. His metal arm grabbed you by the thigh and pulled you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he held you securely against him. Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers buried in his hair as you devoured each other’s lips.

You broke the kiss, panting slightly. “What do I call you, if not Soldat?” you asked, kissing him on the neck between every couple of words.

“Bucky. Call me Bucky,” he said, gasping as you bit hard on his neck then soothed it with a lick.

“Bucky, then,” you said, smiling at him before lazily claiming his lips with your own again. You stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms and lost in each other’s kisses for what felt like a small eternity.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but I think our dance is over,” he said. Over the blood pounding in your ears, you heard people floors below you screaming.

You sighed softly when he kissed your neck before setting you down. “I hate it when you’re right,” you said, pecking him on the lips. “Please tell me you have a way out of here,” you said, glancing over the edge of the rooftop at the mayhem below.

“Of course, (Y/N). I’d never let my best girl get hurt,” he said, grinning at you.

You smiled sadly back at him. You both knew it was a promise he couldn’t keep.

Chapter 10

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