cape_kore | 011 || Sharon Carter || video || Day 58

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011 || Sharon Carter || video || Day 58

Carter here. I realize many, if not all of us, are waking up somewhat changed this morning. If it isn't too much trouble, could you contact me and tell me what you've turned into? Some of the creatures we're turning into are potentially dangerous, which means trouble down the road.

Thank you.

[ Private messages follow. ]

Bruce Banner
Are you available to help?

Natasha Romanoff
My door is closed for a reason. You and the Doctor stay out. Not that I think the Doctor will have much trouble with that anymore.

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[She nods, pushing up to pull her shirt off and toss it off into the room somewhere. At this point, she doesn't care where.]

Yes.

[She looks down at her, a soft smile curving her lips, as she leans back down, a hand cupping Sharon's breast.

Natasha whimpers it's a desperate sound, pushing up again breaking contact, she flips her hair over her shoulder. Natasha leans down kissing along Sharon's neck and down the valley of her chest.

Pausing part of the way down she lifts her eyes, meeting Sharon's murmuring against her skin.]

Please?

[She's not sure if she's asking for more, or asking her to stop anymore.]

[ This, she thinks. This is how it ought to be. The Doctor had been a hiccup, newly human. He hadn't understood, perhaps. But this redhead, whose mind had been broken over and over again and was malleable despite its strength, the redhead understood.

[ Sharon shakes her head and pushes Natasha off, pushing her friend's hands over her head and pinning them there with a fist. ]

No. I need your pleasure more than you need mine.

[ Sharon's head dips down and bites Natasha's breast, hard enough to leave a mark if not hard enough to break the skin. Her other hand presses against the skin of Natasha's stomach, working its way between Natasha's legs. She only explores Natasha's folds for a moment before thrusting in a finger. She hates going as slowly as she is, but it has its uses, fanning the flames deep within Natasha, creating a powerful phoenix just waiting to be devoured whole.

[ She kisses Natasha's breast before moving to the other, licking the woman's nipple before giving it a harsh bite, simultaneously thrusting in another finger. Christ. Sharon can't remember the last time she was this hungry. ]

[Natasha makes a soft disappointed sound when she's pushed off, rolled again onto her back she's pliant and easily moves her arms over her head. The fist holding them down is more a symbol of the other woman's hold over her than an actual need to hold her there, because there isn't much fight in her right now, a fact made evident by how easily she was moved.

The redhead gasps a sudden burst of breath from her, arms tensing briefly, but not moving from where they were placed. The bite was a shock, and so perfect, there's going to be a perfect circle of Sharon's teeth on her pale flesh- the bruise will be deep enough to last, she's sure, despite her enhancements and faster healing.

She's actually caught in a sort of prideful reverie. The slide of Sharon's hand over her stomach stirs her from her haze. The brush of fingers against her slick folds has her complete attention. Her eyes snap to Sharon's, catching and holding their gaze just a brief flickering moment before the blonde plunges into her with the first finger.

Natasha's head and shoulders press into the bed- her back arching just slightly, breath caught she thinks...

She thinks she should say something..

She should...This isn't right... she needs to...

to...

...somethin--

The thoughts are lost to the brush of lips to her breast, the slide of tongue around her tightly drawn nipple and teeth... Teeth- and pain and her fingers...]

[ Something is wrong about this. Something is very, very wrong. Her lips kiss up to Natasha's throat, each kiss taking a glowing spark of life from her friend. She breathes against Natasha's neck, her fingers thrusting in rhythm, her thumb joining them to find Natasha's clit. Something is wrong. Why is it wrong? Natasha is bleeding life right now. Someone needs to mop it up. And Sharon only needs a little more. So she'll... just take a little more. Just a little. ]

[She's leeching off of her. Every breath steals a little more. Every little kiss. Every thrust, curl and scissor of fingers-- more and more. It's all wrong. Stealing little pieces of her, building up her pleasure along and along with it draining away her very essence.

Just a few more moments... She won't last much longer anyway. In either sense, really. But that can't be all that bad right? If it's just a little more?

No. No, it's not wrong at all.

The pressure and roll against her clit is enough to drag a low moan from the redhead, her eyes shut tight- her lip drawn between her teeth. She squirms against Sharon's expert touch- as though the blonde knows exactly what Natasha needs..

Exactly what... But it's wrong- so wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She shudders gasping loud and sharp after another perfect plunge of fingers and brush of thumb.

Jesus...]

[ Sharon doesn't let up, pressing against Natasha, biting and kissing her neck, her shoulder, her breasts. Her fingers keep moving, curling, rubbing, insistent and forceful. The more Natasha squirms, the more she feels, the easier it is to take all that energy from her, that life. And Sharon, even though the hunger is soon bearable, still wants more, her thumb harsh against Natasha's clit.

It takes her several minutes to notice something feels wrong, like the light that's supposed to be in Natasha on full blast is now just a dim glow. A desert with scant water. She pulls away and presses a hand to Natasha's cheek. The woman beneath her is no longer lively or energetic. She looks barely conscious. ]

Natasha?

[ She looks at the two of them, noting the lack of clothes. She can barely remember how that happened. And now Natasha... Sharon checks her friend's vitals, and the desperate desire to kiss her is gone. Sharon can even think normally again, and she quickly leaves the bed and presses herself against the opposite wall. Her hand is wet, but other than the awareness of it, she ignores it and messages Bruce privately. ]

Dr. Banner. I need you here. Now. It's Natasha. [ Her tone falters, and she closes her eyes tightly. Jesus. What if she's just killed one of her best friends? She shakes her head and ends the message. After a deep breath, she sets about cleaning up, washing her hands and pulling on a nightdress as well as trying to put one on Natasha as well. She's not sure who amongst them could be the most mortified by this, but she can at least make it so Natasha doesn't suffer as badly. Natasha might be above such things as embarrassment, but... this is what friends do, right? They dress and clean each other after sex where neither one has much control. She swallows as she looks at the bite marks on Natasha's skin before sinking to the floor beside the bed and putting her face in her hands. Did she kill her friend? If not, how close had she come? What the hell was wrong with her? ]

[ That had sounded like an emergency, so Bruce gathers what medical supplies he has at home and starts immediately for Sharon's house, not that he knows what he can do with a stethoscope and a bottle of ibuprofen. How does he fix a sick succubus, or any of her victims, for that matter? Stay calm; he needs to stay calm and keep his head on straight to think them all through this situation. He can handle that.

He makes his way into the house and to Sharon's room, but before he steps into her bedroom, he knocks on the door and then starts opening it slowly. ]

Sharon? Are you in here?

[It felt like reaching a peak... like standing on a high roof-line and looking down the rush of air that hits you when you lean too far out over the edge. It felt like the thrill of the jump, of throwing yourself out there your arms out while you free fall and just before things get too close to dangerous- the whole things is dangerous, but in delightful thrilling ways- you pull the cord and the chute opens and you get yanked back, to float to the ground.

That's how it should feel.... so close to the edge she should feel that yank back- that intensity of release that comes with it. That flood of ecstasy that comes when she reaches that point. It should feel like life- and death all in the same moment--- and yet it feels nothing like that...

It feels like nothing...

It's dull and empty and she can barely manage a soft breath of a grunt in response to Sharon's hand on her cheek, to her voice. Natasha feels like she's watching everything through a heavy iron curtain, she's heavy and lifeless.. Her breathing is labored, shallow and slow...

Vaguely, she realizes she's being moved she can't muster the strength to try to fight. Something went wrong. Very wrong....]

Here! [ She's at the door immediately, wrenching the door open and standing aside to let Bruce in. She doesn't realize that her cheeks are wet, her thoughts focused on Natasha. ]

She came in to- to tie me up. I couldn't- [ She swallows and takes a step toward Natasha before going back to the door. She should stay here if she's really so dangerous. ]

I don't think I can control it like I thought I could. She started fading toward the end.

[ She hopes to God Bruce can figure all this out and that she doesn't have to spell it out herself. Things are bad enough without her having to spell this out. ]

[ Well, he can put two-and-two together. One time when having a dirty mind comes in handy. He doesn't touch Sharon as he goes by, though it's tempting to try to reassure her; he should probably keep his hands to himself, though. He sits beside her on the bed and does a quick visual sweep as he leans in and feels for a pulse. It's faint, but thank a God that apparently exists in some world, it's there.

He takes a few vital signs, jotting them down on a notepad in his bag. ]

She's alive, but very weak. Can you bring me some water?

[ Then he takes Natasha's hand, smooths the hair from her face, and speaks clearly, firmly. ] Natasha, can you hear me?

[ Sharon goes, returning a minute later with a full pitcher of water and a couple cups. She looks worriedly at Natasha as she sets them on the bedside table and backs away, gripping her hands together. As far as she can tell, Natasha isn't responding. ]

It was like sucking her life out of her. [ Her voice sounds haunted. She can't believe she came so close to killing her best friend, one of the few people whom she trusts and whom she had hoped would trust her. ]

I couldn't stop myself. Like it wasn't even me. It was like losing my mind, but I was still me.

[ She presses herself against the wall and slides to the floor. It hadn't felt like being brainwashed. She had known what she was doing. She just couldn't stop herself. She'd thought she would be strong enough. She isn't, though. She's far too weak. ]

It's a disorienting feeling, and hard to reconcile. [ His voice is soft and comforting, free of judgment; Sharon's been what she is for, what, less than twelve hours? How is she supposed to control it? Bruce isn't getting a reaction out of Natasha, so instead of trying to get her to drink, he doublechecks that she's still breathing normally and hasn't gotten any paler, and then turns to Sharon. ]

How do you feel now?

Better. [ It occurs to her belatedly that he's talking as if he understands because he does understand. ]

Is this how it feels when you become the Hulk? You can see everything, you're aware, but at the same time, it's like there's this other thing in you that's completely overwhelmed you, and you can't fight it off in time?

[ Her eyes fall to Natasha. What had she done? Jesus, Sharon. Killing Steve wasn't enough? ]

[ He sighs and folds his hands together in his lap. ] Up until the change... yeah. Pretty much. And then when I wake up, I find out about all the things he did.

[ With Tony, he can pretty much only talk about the Hulk in positive terms. He feels like he's cheating on a diet. ]

It's going to be hard at first until you learn to control it better, like anything, like a muscle. Control is like a muscle. We'll figure this out.

[ One thing is for sure - Sharon has found an entirely new appreciation of Bruce Banner and what he goes through. She nods like a broken bobble-head. ]

Thank you, Bruce.

I- I owe you. And- Just don't ask for sex. Please.

[ A dark joke. She's either feeling better or she's just in one of her morbid moods. ]

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011 || Sharon Carter || video || Day 58

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Should we put in a warning for NSFW or something? Um. I guess this is it!

Oh.. maybe, since it's getting a little NSFW, right? Well.. there we go.

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If this isn't okay, let me know and I can rewrite!

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