Midnight Shadows Guided Games GENEsis: DOFP Genesis In Character Days of Future Past [Other] Winter is Coming [Carol / Bucky]


07-01-2019
07:55 AM
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07-01-2019, 07:55 AM
[In-Character] [Post #351]
Carol could feel tears stream down her face, it was a strange sensation and she wondered if she was crying in the real world as well. Each time she plucked one of the words from her hand, it stung her, it flared brightly red like it was telling her that it didn’t like her. And she couldn’t blame it, after all, Bucky had given up that part of his life for her. For their child.

It knew that she was the cause for its destruction the first time around, and she would be the cause for the second time.

Each time she picked up a word though, she added a little blue to it, not on purpose but it just flowed from her fingers and it mingled with the red. Making it shine a bit less angry red. Her arm was hurting, the weight of the words trying to pull it down but she knew that she couldn’t give up, couldn’t let her arm drop.

“Almost there, Carol.” Benji whispered next to her. She had lost focus on what he was doing but he was standing there, guiding the words to take root once more, while Emma was rebuilding Bucky’s mind.

They were setting the foundation on which her building could stand. It was just ironic that it should be these ten words. Filaments of gold and white flowed from the red blue words, and Carol narrowed her eyes slightly, they almost looked like the colours of her suit and that of… Steve’s. A small smile curled on her lips, even in his head they were keeping him safe.

She picked the last word from her hand and looked at it for a moment, the heaviness of it crashing through her and she took in a shuddering breath. “If I release this…”

“He has a chance of getting better.” Benji told her. Emma spoke up as well, telling her that he wants to make it through, that he wants to come back to her. Carol let out a little gasp, the word vibrating in her hand, giving her a little pinch. It wanted to be released, wanted to make things whole again. So, she threw it. Red and blue living together and roots of gold and white spreading out through his memories.

Giving him a chance to get better. To get back to her. “Now what?” She whispered as she watched Benji connect the last word.
“Now I’ll take you to him.”
“Paris?”
“You did ask.” He said to her, giving a wink. “Come on.” Benji snapped his fingers and they appeared in front of a door.

Carol hesitated but put her hand on the doorknob and pushed the door open. It was the same exact room as they had spent their days in when being in the pocket dimension Benji had created for them. A large canopy bed, a door leading towards a balcony with a view on the Eiffel Tower and a large bathroom with an old-fashioned tub. However, the room was empty, there was no Bucky.

“Where is he?” She asked, turning to look at Benji.
“He’ll be here shortly, give it a moment. His mind is still repairing itself.”

Carol turned away from Benji and walked towards the balcony, the breeze was a soft warm one and she leaned against the stone railing. Taking in a deep breath she closed her eyes. She could wait, she would always wait for him.
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07-02-2019
07:36 PM
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07-02-2019, 07:36 PM
[In-Character] [Post #352]
Emma watched it all, with curiosity. She knew what a pocket dimension was, she had even grasped the basics of how one was able to create one. But to see it like this – a whole construct, that Benji appeared to create just with a snap of his fingers. She was impressed. And while the place was apparently what Carol had expected, it lacked the person she had asked for it for.

Benji laid out a small explanation, asking Carol for patience. Emma wasn’t sure that would suffice. The woman was sick with worry, and Emma couldn’t fault her for it.

As Carol turned further into the room, moving away from its entrance, Emma stepped up to Benji. She looked at the man, young as he was, he carried quite a lot of responsibility given the power level he was at. Raw unregulated power. During her time as a headmistress his presence would have warranted a crisis management meeting. She offered him a smile, then moved after Carol.

“How are you holding up?” Emma asked, her voice carrying the rare quality of gentleness. She had used it a lot more ever since finding out that she called an eighteen months old toddler her own.

Emma knew the other woman was pregnant. And she had gone through hell. It was easy to grasp that she needed the man in her life now. But he wasn’t here. It was his mind, but right now that constituted a little more than an empty shell.

“They did a real number on him”, she murmured, throwing a glance back to the “room’s” entrance. “I am surprised he lasted this long, to be honest.”
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07-03-2019
09:33 AM
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07-03-2019, 09:33 AM
[In-Character] [Post #353]
Carol let the soft breeze play with the short strands of her hair, a small smile curling on her lips, the sun caressed her face, and everything was perfect here. All it needed was Bucky. Her worry for him spiked in that moment. What if it wouldn’t work? And this was the last thing she would have of him. This perfect place where they had been safe from everything and where nobody expected anything from them.

Opening her eyes, she watched Emma coming to stand next to her and the question of how she was holding up, made her look back at the Eiffel Tower. “I don’t know.” She told the other woman honestly.

She was still sifting through the range of emotions she was feeling at the moment. There were plenty but she couldn’t really settle on just one.

“I know.” Carol answered softly when Emma told her that they did a real number on him. After all, she had seen it on the screen. Steven had shown her what they were putting Bucky through and she had traded her body to make them stop hurting him. Clearly it had been for naught.

“He’s very resilient.” She smiled, shaking her head. “And stubborn. Even if he claims it’s me who is the stubborn one.” Carol sighed, looking at Emma for a moment. “He doesn’t back down from a fight, but he was so worried about me that he put his own health on second place.” That made her frown and then shook her head again.

“I’m angry about that. He should have told me. Regardless of my state of mind, this was not something that he should have left untreated.” Carol looked away, her hands gripping the balcony railing tightly.

“And yes, I know his reasoning, I understand it more than anything, but he still should have told me.” She softly said, looking down at her hands now. “We need him.” One of her hands found its way to her tummy and she bit back a sob.

“He’s the light at the end of my very dark tunnel.” The one she was slowly crawling out off after everything that had been done to her. Carol looked at Emma again, knew that the woman would understand what she was talking about. After all, it had been her to find that video of her and Scott. To discover all what had been done to Emma Frost…

She swallowed and averted her gaze. Those kinds of horrors had no place here. Not here. Never here.
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07-06-2019
05:14 PM
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07-06-2019, 05:14 PM
[In-Character] [Post #354]
Emma could read Carol’s thoughts – they were tangible between them, as if Carol was intentionally opening her mind to present a beacon for her boyfriend. She sighed. Emma knew the longing, the grating nervousness about whether or not it would work out or not, rather well. She had hovered in that state for a little too long. It was hard, at times, to remind herself that that time was over.

There was relief at Carol responding to her question. In a state much like Carol’s, one was likely to withdraw – act as if the pain was not one to share. And well, it was hard to grasp for anyone not on the inside. When one was caught between a rock and a hard place. When one was forced to wait… do nothing, just wait.

Emma followed Carol’s mind back to the facility. Visions of a man tied to a chair, screaming at the top of his lungs. She could barely keep from flinching. Partially because the agony Bucky had been put through was bright and clear to see. Partially because of the decisions the images had forced Carol to make.

“He will be back”, Emma whispered, allowing her gaze to follow Carol’s. The Eiffel tower. It was somewhat uncanny how real this dimensional pocket made it look. She would have to reconsider Benji Richards and his classification as a psy-talent. “It will just take a little longer this time. They used the brute-force method on him – and when that didn’t work …” Emma paused, trying to find an image that worked. “It’s like they just burned it all down.” She frowned. The state they had put Bucky Barnes in was not something to shrug off.

“And he should have told you”, Emma agreed. She nodded. “But maybe he was scared of it more than he felt able to express.” The nuances she could feel out in this man even now appeared to point her in that direction. Bucky had turned to Carol because the idea to be beyond repair had truly shaken him. “Maybe it’s not that he did not want to tell you … maybe it’s that he couldn’t. It would have meant to really accept that something was wrong with him; was possibly worse than when coming out it the previous times.”

Emma eventually reached out for Carol, offering the woman a hug. It felt strange. The only people that usually came close enough to Emma Frost these days to hug her were her son and her husband. And yet, it felt like in Carol there may be a kindred spirit. There were, after all, a number of parallels in their past.

“Are you sure you want to stay here?” Emma asked her, letting her eyes travel up to the sky. “It might be days, Carol”, she added, her voice a soft murmur. She did not want to be the bearer of bad news but Emma decided that Carol deserved honesty. “He needs time to heal …” She looked up, a little like she was listening in, trying to hear something in the distance. “Which he is doing”, she continued, once more looking at Carol. “But it will take time … more than just an hour or two.”
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07-10-2019
11:50 AM
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07-10-2019, 11:50 AM
[In-Character] [Post #355]
Carol didn’t doubt that he would be back, but her heart was aching for him now. She wanted him near, wanted to hear his voice, him telling her everything would be alright and then just tell her a random story about his past. She loved hearing him talk; the sound of his voice calmed her.

“I saw it happen.” She told Emma; flashes of video popped up in her mind. The moments she had been awake and he hadn’t been with her they had put Bucky on the screen. She hadn’t connected the dots, not until earlier. It was why she had known something hadn’t been right with him. Taking in a deep breath, she looked at her hands on the railing.

“He wanted to take it all away from me. First Bucky, then Josephine.” It was what he had told her at some point. He would ruin her life, make her all alone in this world.

It was now a recurring nightmare. Her all alone, and nobody to catch her when she would fall. And fall she did in that dream. Bucky the only one who could catch her and they had tried their best to take him away from her. And had almost succeeded. She wondered if they could have prevented this from happening if he had told her sooner. Emma agreed that he should have told her.

The reasoning why he hadn’t, made her loosen her grip on the railing. Carol understood, god she understood it better than anyone could ever.

But they were a team. He wasn’t alone in this and it was now her time to take care of him, much like he had after she had finally decided to let him in and see the damage that had been done to her. It had been scary, but it had helped with the healing process.

When Emma pulled her into a hug, she stiffened but it lasted only for a second before she returned the embrace. Something else she had been working through, letting other people touch her again without flinching. When the other woman stepped back, Carol looked back at the Eiffel Tower and just smiled when Emma pointed out that it could be days before she would see him. Talk to him.

“I know. I can wait.” Carol took in a deep breath and let it out. “There’s a lightness here, it makes me feel less broken.” She looked at Emma then. “If I leave, can I just come back whenever?”
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07-12-2019
09:08 AM
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07-12-2019, 09:08 AM
[In-Character] [Post #356]
It was painful to follow the thoughts and memories of Carol Danvers. The woman had been put through an incredible ordeal. And the worst part was that she remembered most of it. There was no denying that Emma’s own past was being triggered by some of the images the telepath skidded past. She breathed out, willing herself to once more find equilibrium. Certainly, a feat harder than it ought to have been.

Carol’s thoughts and emotions were unguarded in this place. And Emma could understand why. The other woman wanted them to reach her lover. She wanted him to know that she was waiting, with open and welcoming arms. Emma smiled when images and sounds of a talking Bucky floated past her. She could almost taste the deeply rooted appreciation Carol felt for the man.

Then her mind flashed violently, images made of oppression, violence and helplessness. It was an incredibly vicious thing to stomach. And it bore so many parallels to Emma’s imprisonment. The Services had messed with her love for Scott as well. They had used her husband. Emma made herself watch the scenes that played on the screen in Carol’s memory.

A guinea pig, used to push the testing on the actual lab rat once step further.
Steven Lang’s mental depravity had known no bounds, no mercy.

It reminded her of a helpless Scott in front of her, willing to fight for them with his last ounce of strength – only to have her force him to kill her.

“He did not succeed”, Emma reminded Carol, and switched her role from a mere spectator in Carol’s mental journey to an active part. She pushed into the darkness through which Carol tumbled and reached for the other woman’s hand. Her grip was strong. Unrelenting. Carol would not fall. “You’re not alone”, the older woman added. Emma knew that she meant her lover and child – and of course no one could replace them. But her world held more than just those two. “Bucky is here. And so is your child … twice even.” Emma offered a small smile. It was a phenomenon quite a few of them experienced these days – adult versions of their young, even unborn children. Life as a mutant just never grew boring.

“You can follow him, you know?” Emma suggested. How would she explain what she meant? She took a deep breath. “The brain never forgets.” It was why despite Carol not remembering quite some of her most recent time of incarceration Emma could see it all. She did not pry, did not dig. But she saw the images, and saw the way the other woman’s mind had severed Carol’s connection to those memories. Emma was well aware of blocks of memory like that existing in her own mind as well. Certain things were better left untouched.

“His problems lie with the way his brain links memories. All of them are still there, but the construct that holds them together is obliterated. Almost like the treatment they put him through rendered synapses without functioning. It’s all still there, but none of it is active. So a lot of his psyche, right now, is in crazy disarray. Memories – mostly long term – coupled and re-coupled in ways that don’t make sense. Until he reactivates those synapses, Carol … that won’t change.”

Emma would try to help jump starting the process – but so far, Bucky appeared to be deep in memory. With the brain unable to put order and hierarchy to those images and sensations, it refused to add new ones. To Emma, that did somewhat make sense.

She exhaled, knowing that anyone who was not a telepath required analogies. Likenesses that manifested and represented the often very elusive ways the brain worked. To a telepath, shaping those things into actual and real things that could be influenced was part of the job description.

A thread appeared in Emma’s hand. A red one, it was made of an odd mixture of crude, stray like fibres, woven in with the finest silk. She put the ending of that thread into Carol’s hands. “I can’t promise that he will be aware of you. I can’t even promise anything about what you’ll find. It might be memories of his childhood. It might be from your time at the cabin. It might be the strangest mix of all of those things and more. I’m certain he’ll just accept you as part of the memory, if you weren’t originally a part of it. Or maybe you’ll find things, his brain spun together, no roots in reality whatsoever. There’s no manual for this.

“And yes, you can return here … anytime. Just nudge me?”

She exhaled, then stepped back. “And …”, her voice turned softer. “If you need to talk… I’d be happy to”, she went on, pushing hard at a number of memories attempting to well up that were unpleasant. Emma had at some point stopped to see who had all seen the video of her and Scott. She had accepted that she could not make them unsee those things. She knew all about what it felt like to be kept like a wild animal, and to have literally no worth to one’s dignity. Much like the other woman, Emma, too, had refused to allow that to break her any more than necessary.

And yet, she was still in the process of putting the pieces back together.
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07-12-2019
10:10 AM
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07-12-2019, 10:10 AM
Following the Red Thread. [OneShot] [In-Character] [Post #357]
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Can you stop it?”
“Bucky Barnes getting hitched?”
“What about it?”
“Never thought it would happen.”
“Steve.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the other man, turning away from the mirror and facing Steve Rogers. The other man wore the army dress uniform, much like Bucky did. Jenna had mentioned something about cleaning up rather well earlier. His hair was short, combed back. Fashionable for a man in the nineteen-forties.

“Marriage is … a thing.”
“Just not yours, man.”
“What are you trying to do, Steve? She’s going to take your head off if she finds out that you’re talking me out of this.”
“I’m not talking you out of or into anything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Wondering out loud.” Steve pushed his hands into his pant pockets, and shrugged, then he stepped to the window. “It’s like someone did a number on you. You always said that marriage was a superfluous label. Love didn’t require it.”
“I never said that.”
“Right … superfluous is not in your vocabulary.”

Bucky stepped up to Steve, looking out of the window. The garden outside was beautiful. Spring time. Peppered in different shadows of green and the finishing touches of pastel colours of blooming flowers. It was perfect for a wedding.

His wedding.

“I love Carol.”
“I know”, Steve said. “I’m not saying you don’t.”
“And I miss you”, Bucky eventually added.
“I know”, Steve said once more.

The scene shifted, and Bucky looked at a door. Closed. Beyond it were voices. Familiar ones. Joy. Caitlin. And Carol. Bucky knocked. It was his daughter to open up, gasp. “No, you can’t be here”, she insisted, pushing her father away from the door and joining him on the floor. “Honey, please … I need to talk to your mother.”
“She’s still pregnant. Technically, she’s not a mother yet.”
Bucky contemplated this for a moment. Why would his adult daughter be here, when Carol had not given birth yet?

Steve showed up next to him. “Joy, I think, you need to let your dad into that room.”
Joy just regarded him with a quirked eyebrow. “You’re a fossil from the 1900’s. What do you know about it?”
“I know your father”, he simply said, his figure seemingly looming above everything. Larger-than-life.

Joy faded, and so did the door.
Beyond it, Bucky found Carol. There was no Caitlin. No one else was here. Just his fiancé, dressed in a simple white gown.

“Babe”, he prompted her.
Carol turned around, her face surprised. She blinked – almost a little as if she didn’t belong in this moment, or in this body. Bucky’s gaze dropped, tracing the line of her swollen mid-section. She was at least seven months pregnant. Was his daughter moving, he wondered as he saw Carol’s belly move with little feet pushing outward. As if on cue, Carol gasped, laughed, and put a hand to where the kick had just gone.

“She’s got your skills for a spin-kick”, Carol said, rubbing the side of her belly. “But wait … you’re not supposed to be here. Isn’t this our wedding?”

Bucky wondered for a moment why she was asking. She would be knowing, wouldn’t she?
He looked around. His dress uniform was gone, and outside now lay a snowy landscape. They were inside the cabin and a fire was cackling somewhere behind him. Bucky wore a shirt, and a pair of sweat pants. Only his hair remained as it had been. Cropped, and tidy. His left arm was made from flesh and blood.

Stepping to her left side, Bucky slipped his hands around her to settle on her hip. His left hand settled on the upper slope of her bulging mid-section. He could feel his daughter move. “I miss you”, Bucky whispered, pushing a kiss to Carol’s temple. He smelled her shampoo. Something fruity and fresh. Her hair was short – even if it appeared that her appearance wasn’t certain whether she had long hair after all.
“Then come back to me”, was Carol’s response, and her voice trembled.
Bucky pulled his head back, surprise registered in his eyes.

“But I’m here.”
“Oh Bucky …”, she said, the pitch in her voice more pronounced. Was she crying?
“Hey, is it because we’re not getting married?” That wedding had never happened.

“No”, she said.
“I’m here… I’d never leave you.”
Tears slipped out from under Carol’s closed eye-lids.
“God, you’re so beautiful”, he told her, pushing his lips against the sensitive skin right behind her ears. “I love your hair like that. And your body like that …” Teeth grazed sensitive skin and Carol shivered. In small circles, Bucky began rubbing her tummy. An almost lazy motion and it created the desired effect. Carol relaxed in his arms.

“Do you love me?” he asked her, nibbling at her ear lobe.
“So much… I don’t know what to do without you.”
“But I’m here”, he said yet again, his hand wandering up and slipping into the deep v-neck cut of her dress. She wore no bra and Bucky’s warm fingers found the hardening pebble that was her nipple. The fabric of the dress was elastic, more of a night grown really, and Bucky gently cupped the mound of soft flesh. Carol exhaled with a shiver, leaning against him.

Her form was still slender against him, but she had filled out just a little. Her hips were preparing to bring a life into this world. They were a little wider, and her breasts had gained around a cup size. Bucky pushed the fabric away to uncover the one he was gently massaging.

Carol’s hand flew up and she took a hold of his wrist.
Bucky looked up, his eyes finding hers. “Are you afraid?” he asked her, concern clear in his tone.
“No”, Carol eventually said. “Not of you. Never … of you.” She slipped the strap of the dress over her shoulder and down her arm, slipping out of it. Then she did the same thing for the other side.
“Shall I stop?” He asked, struggling with the invitation she was giving him. There was something here he wasn’t seeing.
“No”, she said.
“I will never hurt you”, Bucky said, suddenly compelled she hear him say it.
“I miss you …” Carol repeated, and the longing in her voice shook something deep inside of him.

Bucky hooked a thumb into the elastic that held up Carol’s night gown above her belly and gently pulled it down. It slipped off her, and he swallowed deeply when he saw that much like there being no bra, she was not wearing panties either. He simply accepted that suddenly, he wore no more than a pair of boxer briefs.

Lowering his head, his lips locked over the darkened areas of her left breast. He pushed the mound up, letting his tongue swirl. Carol’s moan was music to his ears. In a soft whisper she begged him not to stop. When eventually he lifted his head, he let his hand travel to the other breast, kneading and massaging it as Carol pressed her naked self closer to him.

Slowly, he led her to the edge of the couch, sat her down. Bucky’s eyes found hers. “You’re safe with me”, he whispered. And it was like the cabin around the answered, locks clicking shut.
“I know”, she breathed back.
“Is this okay for you?” he asked, unsure where the notion to make certain she was fine was coming from.
“Yes. Keep going.” She sounded breathless.

Bucky had pushed her legs apart, kneeling in front of Carol. He drew a kiss from her mouth as his hands roamed the sides of her belly, and then her hips and legs. Eventually, his palms found her breasts again. He leaned down, this time sucking the other side into his mouth. When he nipped at the small bud, Carol gasped loudly, letting her head fall back.

“Lean back”, he said, letting the nipple slip from between his lips. His hands supported her as he helped her do exactly that. His hands ran down her thighs to her knees, and then he pulled her legs up, pushing them back. His palms against the backside of her thighs, he lowered his face to be on one level with her core.

Carol was holding her breath.
Bucky rubbed his hands up and down the backside of her thighs. “Relax, love.”
“Bucky …” Her voice was a small plea and Bucky looked up across the swell of her tummy into those dark eyes.
“I won’t hurt you. I want you to feel pleasure.”
She just breathed, in and out. Deep breaths.
Then he took his right hand away from her thigh and his thumb instantly found the location of the most sensitive piece of skin on her body.
Carol’s lips parted in a silent gasp.
“Like this”, he added, slowly circling his thumb.

“Oooh …”, Carol sighed, her mouth remaining in the form of an ‘o’ as if she was only remembering how good this felt.
“I would like to use my tongue”, Bucky said.
“Do it.” Carol breathed as each breath out of her lungs was a soft moan.

Bucky lowered his head, his left hand found its twin. He gently pulled the outer layers of skin away, and let his tongue find this little knob. He flicked at it, licked it – long strokes, short – and would suck it into his mouth every now and then.

Carol’s moans grew louder as Bucky continued to pleasure her. When the climax claimed her body, and she vented it loudly, he made no move to stop.

Her hips were moving by now, and her helpless gasps contained half-hearted pleas for him to stop. Bucky replaced his tongue with his thumb again. “Are you sure?” he asked, as the pad continued the massage of this most magnificent part of her anatomy.
“No”, she sighed, moaning loudly.
“How about if I do this?” he asked, the middle finger of his other hand slipping through her moist folds and finding her entrance. Slowly he pushed the tip of his finger into her.
Was that a small ‘yes’ on her lips? Did it seem like she tried to open up wider for him? Bucky felt himself straining against his briefs. He looked down, his cock fully erect.

He pushed a second digit into her, then once more lowered his head to her center. His tongue and fingers drew the second climax out of her.

Bucky lifted his head again, straightening out as he left his right hand at her center. Digits still inside of her, his thumb rubbed back and forth over her clit in broad but light strokes. Carol shivered. Her vision was glorious, and Bucky felt his heart swell in his chest.
“Don’t stop now”, Carol called out.
Bucky knew she couldn’t see his hardened member over her belly but she would know that it was there. “I want to …” He ached to feel her body stretch to accommodate him, to feel her heat engulf him until he came loud and raw inside of her.
“Then do it.”
“Carol…” Why was he continuously make sure that she was fine with what they were doing?
“I want to feel you.”

Bucky reached down, pushing at the seams of his briefs and pushed them down. His fingers wet from her juices, he wrapped them onto his length before allowing the thick and swollen head to push against her entrance. Carol’s calves rested against Bucky’s clavicles as he slowly pushed. The moan that rose from Carol’s chest was one that spoke of a deep craving being satisfied. It made a sense of thrill lance through him.

“Deeper”, she murmured as he pushed himself further into her until he was fully seated.
Now he shivered. “Fuck”, he swore, trying to not lose it there and then. “I won’t last long”, he admitted, his breath hitching multiple times.
“That’s okay …”, she breathed. “Just move, please.”

And he did. He let his hips circled, rocking back and forth. Bucky leaned forward, steadying himself against the back rest of the couch, hovering over her as much as the form of her body allowed. He kept picking up pace, going merely by the sounds Carol made. The more openly welcoming and enjoying she sounded, the faster he thrust himself into her.

Then, he tipped, the sensations growing too much to contain and his body went into somewhat uncontrolled movements. His climax came loud and raw. And had his eyes been opened, he would have seen the structure of the cabin being illuminated for just a moment – the building fortifying itself so to say.

Carol had slipped her legs down and locked her ankles behind him. Bucky was half on top, half next to her, the side of his face resting against her shoulder.

“I love you”, he murmured.
“I’ve missed you …”, Carol said in response before the scene dissolved, leaving Carol fully dressed, in a white room with nothing but the red thread in her hands.
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Yesterday
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Backflash [Carol & Bucky in the hands of Steven Lang] [In-Character] [Post #358]
Lucid moments were becoming few and far between now. Like a man desperately fighting for air he struggled upward but his energy was fading. Fading into the bright and white nothingness that remained in the wake of the bouts of lightning they were putting through his body. Bucky was losing hold. He could tell. It was the one thing he could truly grasp. Time was running out.

What made it worse were the moments when he came to. Moments usually dominated by the voice of a single man. Whenever Bucky opened his eyes, he was there. Whenever he managed to push his head above the surface, he spoke. And the tales he was telling were threatening to turn his stomach.

Steven Lang was a sadist. A sadist and a psychopath. Straight out of the book, Bucky figured.

“He wants to destroy you”, a familiar voice chimed up and Bucky turned.

He came face to face with Steve. One and a half feet shorter than him, barely more than the weight of two t-shirts, wet no less.

“He won’t stop until he succeeded.”
“He’s making progress.”
“I can tell. It’s why I’m here.”
“You’re not really here”, Bucky said and Steve said nothing.

The next time Bucky’s mind managed to compute anything it picked up, all he saw was white. No sight accompanied the moment. Just a voice. That voice.

“Those little moans whenever you push deep into her… isn’t that just the sweetest sound?”

Lang’s voice was deep. Each word was pronounced sharply – reminding him almost of a British accent. He sounded amused, satisfied with himself. Like he was … Bucky felt bile rise in his throat, bringing with it a bout of panic. If he threw up now, could he turn his head as to not choke on his own vomit? A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that there was nothing in his stomach to throw up, though.

“She’s so tight when she comes.”

A scream built from the bottom of his being, climbing step by step towards the surface – no matter how far above him it appeared to be.

Lang sounded satisfied. And there was something else. Something far more intimate, something far more familiar. It took a small eternity for his brain to put the dots together. It was the smell. Bucky could smell her. Her. Carol.

The scream climbed further.

He could smell her on him. A jolt went through him, and Bucky suddenly felt a sharp pain against his right wrist. It felt like sharp metal cutting into his skin. But he saw nothing. Could feel nothing other than the pain of metal biting flesh.

The voice was next to his ear next he heard it. Lips brushed against his lobe. Was that the tip of a tongue? “I fucked her, Bucky. I fucked your alien-bitch girlfriend and she came.”

Bucky opened his mouth and he screamed.

Then darkness took over, casting him back down, far beneath the surface where no light reached him.


Time lost all of its meaning. Minutes stretched into hours, stretched into what felt like days. Bucky had no idea what time of the day it was. Was it day? Was it night? His inner clock was completely shot. His world only existed of a handful of things now. There was the darkness of the depths of his subconscious he would withdraw to. There was the glaring brightness of the procedure he was being put through again and again. And every now and then, there was Lang.

“She pushed her legs apart for me when I fucked her using my fingers.”

Bucky felt pain lance through him when the brightness followed those words instantly. From somewhere far away, he kept hearing that voice as it laid out the tales for him.

“You go at it like bunnies, don’t you? Can you even keep up, Barnes? If I’d known how insatiable she was I’d have put her on a leash and fucked her raw a long time ago.”

Another wave of bright light washed over him and his head felt it was being split down the middle. Snot clogged up his nostrils, and Bucky coughed.

“Too bad I let her get away when I had her naked last time.”

Bucky felt the moisture run down both sides of his face. His heart was racing. Everything was bright and white. It all hurt as wave after wave tore through him.

“But this time I didn’t, Buck. I fucked her.” Lang laughed. “Do you hear me, dimwit? I shot my load into her. Again and again …”

He couldn’t breathe. His chest was about to explode.

“And when she was awake for it… oh boy, it was magnificent. I licked her. She really likes it when her clit is licked, doesn’t she? It’s that perfect size, smaller than a cherry stone but easy to suck in through your teeth. When I did then, I flicked my tongue over it … and fuck me, asshole, she melted! She fucking melted.”

His heartbeat accelerated and Bucky’s head started spinning. The brightness seeped away and once more he was pulled down into the darkness.

“Bucky, you need to wake up.” Steve again. This time he wore his Captain America uniform.
“I can’t.”
“He’s probably screwing her right now.”
“Stop.”
“What if it’s hurting her?”
“Stop, Steve.”
“What if she even likes it?”
“I said … STOP!”

Bucky stood, facing the man he loved like a brother. Tears were running down his face as he looked into Steve’s sympathetic face. But what he saw stung. He saw pity. Pity for the helpless fellow. Once upon a time taller and stronger than Steve – now only a shadow of himself.

“Bucky … I said wake up!”
“I can’t.”
“You’re not that broken”, Steve insisted.

When Bucky looked at his friend this time, he felt weaker than he ever had in his life.

“But what if she is?”


More white. More blinding light yanked him upward and flooded his senses.

“I want you to watch next time I fuck her, Buck. I feel like we are friends now. Sharing a girlfriend … brings two fellows closer, don’t you think?” Lang chuckled.

Bucky trembled, seeking the entrance to the darkness that would take him away from this place but there was no escape.

“Or maybe I’ll fuck you and she shall watch? I’m sure you will be surprised about all the things I can do with my mouth.”

Another wave tore into him, taking the air right out of his lungs. Bucky was losing his grip on reality. Hardly any of it was left. Soon anything that served as point of reference for him would be gone. And then? Bucky was sure then he would be history and after him only the Winter Soldier would have a home in this mind.

“I was with her again, you know? I’m sure she no longer thinks I’m you. She knows … and she enjoys, Bucks. Oh I adore it when she comes.”

In his mind, he found and watched the appearing and then fading image of Steve. Steve Rogers regarding him with a pitiful glance. Like he knew that there was no way out of this. There was only the path down, down into the darkness. Down where there was no light, no air. Where he would need neither.

“Sleep, Buck”, his friend spoke.
Bucky exhaled, letting his finger slip away from whatever held him close to the blinding brightness.

I need you to sleep, the words reached him, pushing him further down. Bucky had no more fight in him. His gaze turned downward, inward even – where he sought Carol. In his memories, in his mind she still lived somewhere. Her old self, the woman who had never been touched by Steven Lang.

It was just as he went fully under, letting the virtual air slip past his lips – bubbles rising to a surface he no longer saw – that he realised, with the last sliver of his mind, that the last five words had not been spoken by Steve or Lang.

It had been … Benji?
__________________



bury my heart next to yours


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