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princessgriffin1998 · 2 years ago

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Specimen FX-23: Project Snow Fox // REBIRTH

Hello everyone!

I know I’ve been trying to edit my previous instalment to this series so that I can proudly present: REBIRTH. Part two of the Specimen FX-23 story.

I won’t lie, it’s been really challenging personally to write and have the bravery to post this, but I’m going to continue to push myself outside my comfort zone. I have quite a bit of the story completed, so I am going to do my best to see my story fully realized. I want to give a huge thanks to @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for always being so sweet to me and encouraging me to write, and I want to thank you for clicking this post and checking out my fun, zany lil world I’ve created for myself. I hope you enjoy the story and please leave your feedback in the comments!

This is a Bucky Barnes x Reader story with an AFAB reader and the use of nicknames (no Y/N).

Find the full story here!

Chapter Summary: After a few days with Shuri at the Los Angeles Wakandan Outreach Centre, Captain Rogers has arrived to bring you to the Avengers Compound.

Word count: 5.5k

RECOVERY / Next Chapter

Chapter One: Good-bye

“Good morning Soldat.” a man's voice greets you as you pant. The last of the electric current fizzled out of your system as your eyes finally unscrewed themselves and tried to focus on the technician in front of you.

“Ready to comply.” you respond breathlessly.

“We have a different training exercise for you today. New combatants. Get equipped and be in the training room in 10 minutes.” with that your technician stalked out of the room, the door bolting behind him. The clamps around your biceps and ankles launched open with a hiss and you shakily stood. You knew better than to be late as you made your way over to the metal lab table that held your equipment for the day.

You showed no emotion as you took in the suit in front of you. It wasn’t your normal lab clothing. You reached out a cautious hand to test the dark coloured fabric. It felt strong despite how smoothly the fabric flowed. You quickly stripped and changed into the suit, uncaring of the leering gaze from the scientists behind you. They only spoke English anyways and you hadn’t been able to learn enough to understand what they said about you while you undressed. You quickly slipped on the black socks and knee high boots left out for you. You secured your hair down the nape of your neck and away from your face as you glanced at the last item on the table. It was completely foreign to you. Slowly with your index figure, you traced over the smooth material of the item. You picked it up and turned to the scientists behind you.

“What do I do with this?” you called out in Russian.

You expected the eye roll from the man with the glasses; Doctor Nagel. Something deep in your gut told you that you shouldn’t let them know how much you could understand. Even though they rolled their eyes or got irritated with you, you never used any of the English words you had been able to piece together over… well, your whole life here.

“Silly girl. Can’t you see the ear hooks?” Nagel motioned his hands up to the sides of his head as if that was supposed to clear things up for you. You blinked at him till he threw his hands up and stalked over to you.

“Give that to me. Hands at your sides.” he commanded and you handed the item to him then pinned your wrists to the outsides of your thighs.

Nagel was your creator. You had no choice but to listen when he spoke to you. You’d tried to resist before, but found you were physically incapable of denying his wishes. No matter how disgusting they were. Nagel reached out and slipped the object around your mouth and nose, hooking the loops over your ears and securing what you assumed to be some kind of fabric fastening around the back of your head and along the nape of your neck. You could feel where it connected to the neckline of your suit. Out of the corner of your eye you could see your startling reflection in the lab window. Suited in all black up to your nose, your eyes glinting over the top of your new muzzle.

“Perfect. I think she’s ready for the Widows boys! Get to the training room now.” Nagel sneered and you raised your chin as best you could from under the muzzle before taking quick strides towards the training door.

When you entered the room, you were surprised to see another girl, but upon another glance around the room you realized there were several women, all similarly outfitted to you, minus the guard over the face. At the end of the gym, there were new men. They weren’t dressed in the standard lab clothing that your handlers wore. They wore suits with pressed pants. An older gentleman stood between several assumed guards, thick black glasses perched on his wide nose. He had silver hair that was slicked back and his left hand twirled a lit cigar. A ring flashed on his pinky.

“Soldat! Center of the ring.” your technician snapped.

You moved smoothly to stand opposite the young woman in the centre of the ring. She had warm, deep toned skin and piercing brown eyes. Her hair, a texture you’d not seen on any of the regular technicians that came to your lab, was twisting tightly in rows starting at her forehead and tracing down the back of her head to her neck. She glared at you and you clenched your jaw. She was beautiful. Your only human experience thus far had been the cruel men of your lab. Faintly, you wondered if she’d be allowed to live after whatever training was coming next.

“Gentlemen, welcome to the next phase of human evolution!” Nagel announced from behind you. You pressed your palms flat against your thighs as Nagel made his way around you, tossing an arm around your shoulder as he spoke to the new men.

“Today, we would like to show you the fruits of your money and our labour. Gentlemen I’d like to introduce you to Specimen 23 of Project Snow Fox.”

You startle awake, the dream leaving you in a cold sweat as you try to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your ears, a sure fire sign of a migraine on its way. Subconsciously you rub the back of your neck as you lay back down on your pillow, trying to breathe deeply and taking in the bumpy white ceiling above you.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, it hits you what day it is and you shoot upright in your hotel bed a second time.

Today is the day.

Any remaining traces of your nightmare vanish as you throw yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Quickly brushing your teeth and securing your hair back and out of your face, you whip off your sleeping clothes and quickly change into an all black ensemble of cropped yoga pants, an athletic tank top with a sports bra underneath, and a black zip up. You make your bed and quickly go through your duffel bag again, everything perfectly folded and packed from when you’d refolded and packed it for the third time last night.

Today is the day.

Smiling, you slip on some black boots and grab a pair of aviator sunglasses. You put on a plain black ball cap, tucking your hair through the gap above the adjustment strap. You grab your backpack and adjust the straps slightly so that it sits comfortable on your back, giggling to yourself about the shape. Shuri had thought it was hilarious, grabbing the tiny backpack that looked like Cap’s suit. The two of you had snickered the entire time you were paying.

You quickly made sure you had all your important items inside the backpack; your music device from Shuri with your headphones, your journals and a pencil case of different pencils and fancy pens, a metal water bottle, a set of kimoyo beads Shuri had gifted you before your trip, and half a strip of photos from a photo booth. Shuri had taken you to a mall to get some American clothing and the two of you had stopped on a whim at a booth in the mall. Shuri had the top half of the strip and you had the bottom; two panels of you and Shuri grinning from ear to ear, almost spilling your smoothies on each other while laughing.

With a deep inhale, you take in one last glance at the hotel room that had been your home for the last week, before grabbing your room key and making your way down to the lobby to meet Shuri.

‘Today is the day.’

You and Shuri had been staying in a hotel down the road from the Wakandan Outreach Centre for six days. You haven’t seen Bucky or the rest of the team in nine.

After the fight in the lab you had been devastated. It had taken almost a full 24 hours for Shuri to be able to move you from your spot bundled up on the couch. All you’d had the energy for was quietly crying while Shuri rotated different movies for you. She put on all your favourites and brought you snacks that you couldn’t stomach and water you could barely sip.

You knew that Bucky might be upset with you for wanting to leave Wakanda, given that he’d been hiding the offer from you. He’d clearly not wanted you to move to America yet, and even though yesterday you had been hurting you had hoped that he still cared about you despite being worried about Hydra’s potential control. Obviously he just couldn’t trust Hydra, and you knew with his background that you would probably always be a threat to his family.

Maybe this was your fault too. You’d evidently read too far into his kindness. You’d been too unstable when you were first freed. Maybe he’d gotten close to you in order to tame you. Aside from Shuri, you didn’t have a metric for how much was too close to someone. He could’ve been a regular level of attentive and you’d misconstrued it.

Eventually after a day and a half you decided that your pity party needed to end. Shuri had already rescheduled some plans for the two of you because you couldn’t get off your couch. You still had Shuri, and even though you would be moving away from her she was still in your corner and so were Sam and Steve. You decided that you truly meant what you’d said in the lab. You didn’t need Bucky’s approval. You wanted to take the next step to better yourself and if he didn’t like it that was on him. Shuri had been surprised to see you up and about the next morning after two days of being almost comatose, but there you stood. Fresh from the shower, hair pulled back and secured away from your face, zipping up the athletic jacket you’d decided would be comfortable to travel in.

Oh and travel you did.

You didn’t think you’d ever tire of staring at the ocean. Shuri had let you sit in the cockpit of the jet with Ayo while she flew. The sun hitting the water had been beautiful, but the sun setting over the vast ocean as you made your way to America had been magnificent. Overwhelming in the best way possible. Shuri teased you mercilessly as you gazed out over the water for hours on end. After touching down in LA, Shuri decided it might be fun to stay in a hotel to try and help you integrate with regular society. It had been absolutely terrifying. Your nerves constantly telling you everyone who walked near you was a potential threat. You’d clenched your fists so hard in an effort to calm yourself your nails had broken skin. Shuri had gotten you your own room so that you could work on being by yourself, and that first night you spent in America you’d dragged the couch in your room in front of the door in addition to locking and dead bolting it.

Shuri had teased you about that too after making sure you were ok sleeping on your own.

You’d spent most of the week working in the Outreach Center with Shuri. It was a very similar routine to what you’d already established in Wakanda. During the day you had spent your time helping out around the Center, moving heavy things or just being an extra set of hands for the team and their work there. The Wakandan Outreach Center’s main focus was making sure that people of colour in the surrounding areas could have a place to go and feel supported. Most of the work in the Center was community based. Making sure kids could afford school supplies and lunches or have the resources they needed to complete projects and explore the advanced technology Wakanda had to offer. Shuri’s personal focus was encouraging girls to pursue science. The Outreach Center offered multiple different scholarships geared towards encouraging minorities to pursue fields that for centuries had been unattainable. One of your favourite memories of the week had been watching Shuri sign a cheque for a young woman to go to medical school. She and her mother, who’d previously been working two jobs to support them, sobbed tears of joy and you’d been honoured to see such a special moment take place. You’d added their teary smiles to your journal the minute you’d had some spare time.

Your hours in the Outreach Centre had not only been a fantastic way to work your jet lag, but also to watch people. Having your growth accelerated meant that you’d skipped on a lot of your developmental stages, adolescence, puberty. Here, you could just sit and watch all different kinds of people walk through the doors with their own mannerisms, subconscious habits, body language, and facial expressions. You’d learned how to read the different looks people give each other, the furrowed brow of confusion and how it differed from an angry brow. Most of your people-studies had come from Shuri and Bucky, so you’d always felt comfortable understanding what they meant when they spoke to you. With new people you’d learned just how much tone and inflection changed the meaning of a phrase. It started with trying to pitch your voice up when you made dry jokes because the people here hadn’t gotten your sense of humour at first. Slouching in your seat because you found people were freaked out by your robotic posture. So many things you learned while watching coworkers, friends, and families interact in the Centre. As you studied humanity more and more you confirmed to yourself that coming to America had been what you needed. You never could’ve learned all this from within your lab.

In the evenings when Shuri was finished with her team, the two of you went out and explored the city. Los Angeles was so different to anything you’d experienced in Wakanda. The insane hustle and bustle of the streets seemingly never ended. You and Shuri had explored malls together, you tightly holding her hand while the two of you browsed American fashion. The two of you had an absolute blast and Shuri promised the next time she came to visit you’d go to a theme park together. You’d been a little too nervous to make the trek this trip and your nerves were usually shot by the end of the day. Shuri had taken you to several beautiful parks, and the two of you had even taken a day trip to the beach.

You’d been a little too nervous to actually go into the water, but you’d plopped yourself on the shore and let the waves lap at your toes for hours. Shuri thought it was hilarious that you were so easily entertained, but staring out at the endless sea and sky was soothing. It made you feel completely peaceful and when you’d gotten back to your hotel room you’d passed out almost immediately. The jet lag probably wasn’t helping but with how many hours a night you slept normally you wondered if it even mattered.

After closing the door to your hotel room you made your way down to the lobby to meet Shuri.

The plan was to go to the Outreach Centre, where Captain Rogers would be parked with the Quinjet in stealth mode. You and Shuri had wanted to keep your arrival in America quiet. No need to alert Ross to another super soldier on the compound if they didn’t need to right away. You had listened in on Shuri’s conference call with the Captain and Stark, and by their tone you could tell Stark got a sick satisfaction out of hiding something from Thaddeus Ross.

“Good morning Foxy!” Shuri called as you approached her and the concierge desk. “How did you sleep? Good? Great! We’ve got about an hour for breakfast before we head to the Centre.” She grinned, taking both your key cards and sliding them to the receptionist.

Holding out her bag, you carried your luggage together in one hand as Shuri took your other to guide on the familiar walk to the Outreach Centre. An hour for breakfast really meant fifty-five minutes of goofing off in the IHOP across the street before realising you had five minutes to be on the jet.

The two of you were seated in your favourite corner booth next to the window that let you watch all the busy people making their way through the city. Shuri chattered excitedly about her latest tech project for the Centre while you counter all the exits in the building (One to the patio, a fire exit by the bathroom, one back door through the kitchen and the main entrance by the hostess podium), despite knowing them by heart after a week of breakfasts here. Shuri had wanted to come here one morning after seeing an ad on the TV. She’d decided that she’d never been so she’d treat herself and drug you along for some chocolate chip pancakes. After that she’d gotten hooked on everything the franchise had to offer and you’d eaten more waffles than you cared to admit.

The IHOP staff, to their credit, were absolutely lovely everytime you came in. They’d quickly accepted that you would always want a corner table where you could view the door, no matter how empty the restaurant was. They’d gotten used to your strange accent, a combination of Russian and somehow African while you tried to order your food in the morning. After the first few raised brows, you’d immediately begun correcting your accent to whichever variation of English was being spoken to you. Your American accent was fairly advanced compared to the beginning of the week when you’d arrived, but some words were always spoken with a bit of East African wrapped around them. The staff had also gotten accustomed to you ordering at least two meals, occasionally a third if you were having a particularly active day.

This corner was a particularly advantageous spot because you could see every entrance to the building, not to mention you could watch the breeze change to show the arrival of a stealth craft in the parking lot across the street.

“-it’s really something special Snow, I can’t wait for you to see it! Hey, are you even listening to me?” Shuri asked, poking your knuckles with her coffee spoon and startling you out of your surveillance.

You jumped slightly, finally tearing your gaze away from the window.

“My apologies, Shuri. I think I am a little bit distracted this morning.” you answered sheepishly, heat blooming across your face.

Shuri just snickered.

“Don’t worry. I know better than to take offence. If you’re worried about travelling, don’t be. Steve’s actually a great pilot when he’s not sacrificing himself for the greater good. And Stark’s A.I isn’t half bad. You’ll get to New Jersey in no time. Plus once you’re there you’ll be begging to leave Jersey and come home to me so everything will work out.” Shuri joked. You laughed despite not quite understanding why “Jersey” would be somewhere you’d desperately want to leave.

“I guess… I am worried they will not like me. I threw Natasha into a wall, and she accepted my apology but the rest of the team does not know me at all. What if they hate me?” You whispered, fidgeting with the handle of your mug.

Shuri just smiled and reached out a hand, clasping your fingers between her own.

“Listen Snow Fox, it’s ok to be scared of things. You’ve been through so much change these last few months. It’s natural that you’re nervous, but I just want you to remember all that you’ve accomplished so far. You’ve improved your communication, your memory, even your fighting. You’re doing so well and growing so much. I’m very proud of you and even if they haven’t said it, I know the team is too.” You could hear the message behind her words; Bucky was proud of you.

It’s not that you didn’t want to believe her, but in the six days you’d been in America you hadn’t heard from any of the team personally aside from Steve. Shuri’s music device also had a communication link, so he’d messaged you briefly when you’d arrived in LA, happy that you’d gotten there safely. Aside from a few brief conversations about your room and if you had any food allergies, you’d barely heard from him.

Bucky however had not reached out since your fight.

“Thanks Shuri. It is nice to be reminded sometimes, of where I started and where I am now. I’m just nervous they won’t like me. I know I am… odd to say the least.” Shuri just laughed.

“Well who on their team isn’t? You’ve got two 100 year old super idiots, a former KGB spy, a guy who cosplays Robin Hood for a living, modern-day Icarus, and a billionaire funding all their crazy. Not to mention a witch and an android. I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine.” Shuri grinned. As you smiled back and squeezed her hand, your ears picked up a large change in the wind outside.

“Ah, I take it the Quinjet has arrived on top of the Centre. Alright let’s pay up and see you off then!” Shuri smiled, flagging down your server so she could settle the bill.

Much to your server’s chagrin, Shuri pressed a $100 note in his palm as a tip with a litany of gratitude towards him and the team for being so kind to the both of you this week. She then stuffed another five of them in the tip jar on your way out. When you were royalty, unlimited money was something fun to play with, you supposed.

As you made your way across the street, you clutched the straps of your duffle bag so hard your knuckles turned white.

‘You can do this. You can do this. Steve is very friendly. You are going to be fine.’ you chanted in your head over and over, as if the harder you thought about it the easier it would be to believe.

You forced a smile on your face and waved at the workers in the Center as you made your way up to the roof. Most of the Wakandans and volunteers were used to your strange behaviour so you hoped your expression looked cheerful. You dropped Shuri’s bag off at her office, adjusting your bags and checking their contents for the 3rd time that morning before making your way to the roof.

Before Shuri opened the door, you both put your sunglasses on and she grabbed your free hand.

“Ready?” she grinned.

You did your best to plaster a smile on your face and the reflection in her glasses was almost believable.

“Ready.” you nodded, before Shuri threw the door open.

Watching the Quinjet come out of stealth mode was a sight you didn’t think would ever get old. The wind whipped around you briefly as the ramp descended, and a casually dressed Steve Rogers came to greet you.

“Good morning Snow Fox!” he called, a grin across his face.

You could feel the tension draining out of your shoulders as he made his way over to greet you.

“Good morning Captain!” You chirped happily.

Steve just rolled his eyes.

“Y’know I said you can still call me Steve right? We’re friends. Friends don’t speak so formally.” he teased, heat blooming across your face.

“Yes.. I-I forget sometimes.” you stammered, wincing at how unsure you sounded.

Steve however did not let that deter him.

“Well that’s fine. We’ve got a whole flight for you to remember. Good morning Princess.” Steve said with a nod to Shuri.

Shuri just snorted in response.

“What are we not friends? I already call you Steve, you can call me Shuri.” she said as the two shook hands.

Steve just smiled.

“Well, the Quinjet is pretty fast. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so for us to get to the compound. I can take your bag while you say goodbye if you’d like?” Steve offered, a hand extended.

You nodded and passed your duffle along to him before turning to face your best friend. You weren’t sure what to say but luckily Shuri always had something to say and beat you to it.

“Well, you have my contact in your device and kimoyo beads. You can call me at any time. I’ll be about nine hours ahead of you, but if you need me I’ll answer at any time you know that. If you hate it you can call me and I’ll come get you, no questions asked ok? And I know you haven’t been sleeping well and I’ve already notified Helen Cho, the compound's chief doctor so she can give you something if you can’t sleep. Remember to update me on your training! I want to know exactly how bad ass my best friend is getting!” Shuri rambled, her hands wringing nervously in front of her stomach.

You could feel tears beginning to pool in your eyes as you threw your arms around her. Shuri inhaled sharply before wrapping her arms around your torso as tightly as she could.

“Thank you for everything my friend.” you started in Xhosa, knowing how much it meant to Shuri that you’d tried to learn as much of her native tongue as possible. “I promise to call often. I’ll send you so many pictures and videos of my training you will tire of me I promise. I want you to know that I never would’ve gotten to this point if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’m well aware.” Shuri teased, her words thick with emotion.

“Well you deserve to hear it. You deserve to hear that you are the most amazing best friend anyone could ask for, and if there is anything that I am grateful for in my existence, it is that we had the chance to meet and become friends. You have shown me kindness that I will never be able to repay, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to share that with the world. You gave me purpose, my friend. I swear to make your efforts worthwhile.” you grinned, pulling away from her you both giggled at the tears in each others eyes.

“Call me as soon as you’re settled in your room! I’m assuming they have a tour or orientation planned for you. So call me as soon as you can!” Shuri grinned, swiping at the moisture under her eyes.

You let out a watery laugh as you nodded.

“I will. See you soon, friend.” you smiled.

With one final hug you made your way over to where Steve was watching the two of you from the ramp. A soft smile graced his face as you turned to wave a Shuri one last time before boarding the jet.

“So how has your week in LA been?” Steve asked, trying to make small talk as the two of you made your way over to the cockpit.

“It has been… very busy.” you admitted, as you took off your backpack and settled into the seat behind Steve’s right side.

“Well that’s good! Lots of new experiences I’d ima- what is that?” he asked, pointing a finger at your bag.

You flushed under his sudden attention.

“Um.. .Shuri suggested I get a backpack and thought this one was funny…” you trailed off in embarrassment.

Steve just threw his head back and laughed.

“That’s great! Sam is gonna be so jealous.” He grinned and you beamed back.

“I would imagine he’ll be quite scandalised that there was no Falcon merchandise in the store.” you quipped, causing Steve to laugh even harder as he re-engaged stealth mode and began the launch sequence.

“Oh don’t even start. He’s such a drama queen sometimes.” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

You smiled as Steve launched into an anecdote about Sam wanting to create merchandise for ‘Red Wing’, his robot AI that helped them on missions. Slowly the nerves set in as you thought about the rest of the team.

“Steve?” you started, the man in question humming in acknowledgement.

“What is the rest of the team like? I’ve only met Sam, Natasha, Clint, and… Well what are the others like?” You asked, unable to ask Steve about the one member of the team you were truly curious about.

“Well, Wanda isn’t that far off from you in age. I think you’re biologically around the same. Vision… Vision actually reminds me a lot of you. He’s an android so while he’s very intelligent, we all know there are some ��human” things that escape him sometimes. He’s very polite though and head over heels for Wanda. The two of them are actually very sweet together. Burce, our team's previous resident doctor, is actually off the grid right now. We haven’t seen or heard from him in about two years. I’m sure you’ve seen the files on the Hulk?” Steve turned to ask and you nodded.

“Right, well Bruce used to have a really hard time controlling him. After Ultron, he took off. We hope that he’s doing better and that he’ll return someday… but after that there’s Tony Stark, Iron Man.” you winced.

“Are you sure it’ll be ok with him for me to come live with you all?” you asked in a small voice.

Steve just shook his head.

“You don’t have to worry about Tony. I made sure he saw your progress reports with Shuri before you even left Wakanda. Tony is very critical, but he’s not as much of an asshole as he makes himself out to be. He knows that you were successfully deprogrammed by Shuri and that you’re making a lot of progress, but not as much as you’d like. If he does anything that makes you really uncomfortable, if anyone on the team does, I want you to know you can come tell me. Not just as your Captain, but as your friend. We’re all here for you Snow Fox.” Steve turned to smile warmly at you and you offered a small smile back.

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we touch down at the compound. Any other questions before we land?” Steve asked.

You just shook your head.

“No, I am alright. I am mostly just nervous. I… I just really want to make a good impression I guess.” you bit out, picking at the skin around your nails since Shuri had worked so painstakingly last night to paint them to perfection for your first day with the Avengers.

Steve just smiled and reached a hand behind himself to pat your knee.

“Look, I promise that everyone will be thrilled to meet you. Sam’s been compiling movies for us to watch, Nat and Wanda are just happy there’s going to be another girl around the compound, and Tony might be a hard ass but I know once he meets you he’s gonna love you.”

You took in a deep breath, rubbing your knee where you could still feel the warmth from Steve’s hand.

“And Bucky?” you asked nervously. You hadn’t had the courage to bring him up until now.

Steve inhaled sharply, taking a moment to consider his next words carefully.

“Bucky is… complicated. I know you guys had a fight before we left. He wouldn’t tell me what about, but he’s requested some solo missions to hunt down a few Hydra stragglers so he’s not actually home at the compound right now. Do you.. If you want I mean- do you wanna talk about it at all?” Steve asked, his hand coming up to awkwardly scratch at his neck.

You huffed and smiled to yourself.

“Not at all, but thank you for offering.”

“Look I know it isn’t my place, but he really does care. Bucky has always been a “Mother Hen” if you will, he’s always been a protector. He had me, and a baby sister back before the war, and I’m sure he told you all the trouble we got ourselves into back then. He’s always been the man to protect his family, even if he maybe says some dumb stuff sometimes. I don’t know the details of your fight and I won’t push it if it makes you uncomfortable, but I do know that Bucky cares about you more than I’ve seen him care about something in a long time and I hope that when he gets back the two of you can work things out.” Steve turned again, offering you a hesitant smile.

You did your best to return it as you looked out the window of the jet.

“So, what kind of music have you been listening to this week?” Steve asked lightly and you sighed, grateful for the change in subject.

Steve reached a cord over to you and you beamed, recognizing the correct input to connect to your music device. Steve caught your smile and beamed right back as you went through your recently played songs.

“Well, Shuri and I have been listening to a new artist this week, his name is Stevie Wonder.”

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aries-writingblog · 3 years ago

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Head is A Jungle

Summary: While recovering from being a homicidal murder machine for seventy years, one Bucky Barnes may find hope for himself yet.

Word Count: 16.4K

Pairing: Wakanda! Bucky x reader (pronouns she/her)

Warnings: strong language, anger issues, temper, depressive episode (labeled relapse), anxiety and paranoia, self esteem issues w/ self image mentions

Notes: Gif is not my own, credit to original creator. I’ve been terrible at reading replies and interacting with everyone who interacts with my posts but I’m going to be better about it, I promise! Thank you for reading and supporting! Enjoy!!

There was always some kind of noise.

A heart rate monitor beeped at a steady pace to his right. A soft, barely audible hum of machinery in the background. Ambient sounds filling his day.

Birds chirping, music playing, kids shouting with giddy excitement. Street vendors.

The scuffle of medical staff and lab technicians through the hallways. Going about their days of research and reports.

It had become rather monotonous, or perhaps even comforting. Wakanda had become comforting. Bucky hadn’t realized how much he wanted peace until he had it.

Almost had it, anyways.

“Shuri is running late today,” Ayo commented softly. Her fingertips brushed along the countertop. “There is no telling what she has gotten into.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

Ayo had been his appointed guard when he arrived in Wakanda. In the beginning, she was more watchful, wary of his alter ego. She had followed him everywhere— literally, everywhere.

Bucky didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. In fact, Ayo wasn’t bad company. She didn’t linger or leer in the background. She made easy conversation and was extremely helpful with details of Wakanda’s culture and history.

They often found themselves just spending time together instead of her being a watch dog.

She had become more lenient since there hadn’t been a relapse in his therapy in months. Ayo had gone from her constant supervision to guarding during the therapy sessions.

Even then, she only stayed in the room sometimes.

Bucky liked to think he had gained her trust over their time together. She had gained his, at least.

The doors burst open, Shuri striding in confidently. Almost declaring that she herself was not late, everyone else was early. A casual grin on her face.

“Who is ready to party?” She shouted, arms spread wide in a playfully welcome stance. That was one thing Bucky always noticed about the young woman— she seemed to be in a constant good mood. Always a joker. Always cool under pressure.

Ayo, however, was the complete opposite. Stoic and on guard. Constantly vigilant. Her humor was less brash. Much more refined than Shuri’s.

While he enjoyed Shuri’s fanatic, frankly chaotic, sense of humor, Bucky often found solace in Ayo’s calm energy.

“I think I will be taking guard.” Ayo teased, her eyes widening as she slipped around the eclectic young woman. Shuri whined at her reluctance.

“You are no fun, Ayo.” She tsked disappointedly. Cocking her head to the side as she eyed Bucky, hopefully. “Sergeant?”

“I don’t think is a party but I’m always up for it.” He promised. Shuri pumped her fist. Ayo rolled her eyes, popping the door open and swinging herself out gracefully.

“That’s the spirit.” The princess cheered.

Bucky shifted further back in his usual seat as Shuri scooped her equipment up. Electrodes to monitor his heart rate and vitals were pressed onto his chest and neck. A blood pressure cuff to his upper arm.

Two, small ear cuffs latched to his ears. Like earbuds. Shuri had explained their importance to him multiple times— mainly scolding him for adjusting them. He couldn’t help it, the metal was uncomfortable and felt awkward.

She would use them to send signals from her computer and hologram, where she would be running base on her algorithm.

He didn’t understand the details, just that it was all working to retrieve his memories and eventually, would rid him of the Soldier.

That was enough for him.

“How have your migraines been?” Shuri’s fingertips were cold as she efficiently applied the electrodes to his neck.

Bucky had told her, weeks before, that he had migraines after their sessions. They would range from mild annoyance to severe, debilitating pain and nausea. Luckily, they only lasted a few hours at most, but they would occur a few times each week.

She suggested he go to the infirmary across the hall to get a true diagnosis but he refused, and settled for her explanation. Which was more of a guess. Around the ball park of ‘maybe brain pain is a good thing— your memories are coming back’. Which was pretty much the same conclusion he himself had come to, though he had been hoping for something a little more scientific from her.

“Better. Haven’t had one this week.” He confided, truthfully. She hummed quietly, slipping behind him to gather his hair up in her hands.

He wanted to shrink away from the touch— no one touched his hair, he hated the feel. But Shuri needed full visual of her instruments, therefore, his hair had to be out of the way. That and she commented that his ‘colonizer hair would get caught in the brackets and joints and fuck shit up’.

Did he mention he enjoyed his time with her?

“Very good. You are adjusting.” She nodded, quickly tying the long hazelnut strands up with the hair tie around her wrist. She made quick work of it, not lingering longer than she had to. Fully aware of how his shoulders tensed whenever she pulled his hair back. “Any nightmares?”

“All the time.” He murmured, accepting the pair of ear cuffs from her.

“The usual?” She spoke over the quiet typing of her fingertips over a holographic keyboard. The clicking noise was quiet, almost nonexistent, but Bucky heard it.

“The usual.” He confirmed, tucking the mechanisms into and over his ears.

Shuri hummed quietly, her eyebrows furrowed in empathy. Lips twisted to the side as she finished adjusting her algorithm for the day’s session.

“I hope you find pleasant memories today, James.” She made a few more clicks before stepping away. Bucky glanced toward her station, eyes laid on the familiar vital sign charts and brain wave activity. A series of fast paced code beginning to run on one hologram— the algorithm beginning.

“Me too.” He responded.

Then he leaned back, closed his eyes and let go of the tense breath he’d been holding. Letting his mind drift.

He found that this was the best way to begin. He’d tried any and everything to trigger memories— thinking about something particular, making up scenarios and hoping a little voice would correct his falsities. But it was always easier to let his mind take the reigns. To guide him where it wanted to go.

“Jamie, you almost ready? Church starts in thirty minutes and your brother and sister’s already dressed!” His mother’s voice echoed along the stairwell, up and into his room. “And Steve is here!”

Bucky huffed out, irritated at his fingers for fumbling across the tie. He hated church for this exact reason. His mother always wanted spick and span— including a tie. Bucky kept forgetting how to tie the stupid thing.

Was it under first or over? Through or…

He groaned, nearly in tears from the frustration.

“I’ll be down in a minute, ma!” He called out, slinging the tie from around his neck and to the floor. He snagged his dress shoes on the way out, glaring back at the blue tie on the floor by his bed.

“What, you finally wake up?” Steve’s voice was teasing as Bucky rounded the bottom of the staircase, plopping down to tug his shoes on.

George stood beside the door, patiently waiting for his family to finish dressing. He had just memorized the books of the New Testament and he was eager to tell his Sunday school teacher.

“Shut up, punk.” Bucky growled, tying his laces. Rebecca giggled as she darted through the pair of friends, making a break for the kitchen.

“Jamie, where is your tie?” His mother’s figure came into focus, nearing him. Her heels clicking gracefully against the wood floors. Her dark hair styled and her blue eyes startling. They shifted focus to the little girl running rampant, her red velvet skirt flapping behind her. “Rebecca, go put your shoes on, we can’t be late.”

Bucky’s head tilted back, his eyes taking in the full sight of his mother— an angelic glow behind her from the early morning sun. Rising through the windows. Winnie sighed through her nose, shaking her head with a smile as she brushed Bucky’s hair back softly. Her eyes turned to Steve, her other hand punching his cheek gently.

“You boys promise me that before you go play later this afternoon you’ll change outta these good clothes?” She demanded. Steve grinned broadly, nodding eagerly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes, ma.”

“Becca, you sure you wanna date this guy? You know what pop would say about him?” Bucky worried, his hand running through dark hair. Disrupting the slicked back style. His teeth gnawed at his lip, eyes darting between his sister and the door to his room.

“You know what he says about your dates? His judgement is biased.” Rebecca rolled her eyes with a dismissive shake of her head. Her own dark curls bounced with each movement. “Besides, I really like this one, James. You’ve just gotta know him— he’s sweet and funny and he cares about me a lot.”

He swallowed, that familiar, funny feeling of surrender eating his esophagus the longer he stared. She got her father’s looks. A strong brow, deep, meaningful brown eyes. Full, peachy lips.

That was one of the reasons their father was so protective. Well, and she was his only daughter.

But, then again, Bucky always looked out for her. Always had her back.

“Okay. I’ll cover for you.” He relented, hands on his hips. Becca squealed and leapt up, barreling into his arms. Bucky instinctively hugged her close to his body, keeping them from toppling over.

“Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll make it up to you.” She swore, backing up a few steps, toward the door.

“Yeah, yeah. Go, before I change my mind.” Bucky grumbled.

“I want you to be careful, alright, Jamie?” His mother instructed, smoothing down the lapels of his green army jacket. Her voice nasally, eyes watery.

“Alright, ma. I’ll be careful.” Bucky promised, reaching up to squeeze her hand. She sniffled again, this time a tear accompanied it— slipping down her sharp cheekbone.

“And clean your plate, try to keep warm and dry, don’t forget to—“

“Winnie, why don’t you just go with him?” Bucky’s father chuckled, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Oh, hush, George.” Her voice broke as she swatted at her husband’s chest. Attention immediately swinging back to her son. “I’m proud of you. My baby boy, all grown up.”

“Ma.” Bucky complained, feeling a phantom of heat creep up his ears. Eyes darting around in hopes no one had heard her.

“Don’t you be embarrassed by your mother, young man.” George Barnes told him sternly, a nod of his head as he clapped a hand to his eldest son’s shoulder. “Stay strong, over there. ‘Member that picture I gave you. Don’t lose sight of your hope.”

The picture was one of the whole family. A wallet sized photo that George had paid for when the family went to… they had gone…

A sudden blur of static filled the space as the memory continued along, ignoring the portions it couldn’t fill at the moment. Bucky knew that it would eventually click into place— maybe without him even realizing. One day the information would just… be there.

“I understand.” He confirmed.

“Good man.” His father smiled. Bucky could have sworn his eyes shone a little too brightly. “Alright, Becca, Georgie, come say goodbye to your brother.”

Becca stepped up first, her feet faltering for a moment before she pulled him in for one of her tight embraces. Arms locked around his waist, her head pressed against his chest. Squeezing tightly. Bucky didn’t hesitate to return the gesture. His cheek pressed to the top of her head.

“I’m gonna miss you— come home, please.” Her voice muffled by his army greens.

“I will.” He promised quietly.

Becca’s finally released him, allowing George to step forward. Hands in his pockets, shoulder casually dropped. His lips curled into their usual devilish smirk.

Good looks had apparently run through the entire Barnes family, as the youngest boy, George, was following in both his older brother and his father’s footsteps.

Tall and lean, broad shoulders and a thick brow. Strong, dimpled chin. Sharp jawline. Sturdy, built men.

“Shoot some Nazi fucks for me.” George grinned. Bucky scoffed, shaking his head.

“George Barnes, Junior!” Winnie scolded, giving a harsh tug on the boy’s ear.

“Ow!”

“I oughta wash your mouth out with soap, d’you understand me, young man?”

Steve stepped into place. Standing before his friend. Bucky knew the blonde felt downright envious. But his blue eyes only shone with whispering tears of foretold melancholy.

“I’ll see you around, Buck.” Steve put his hand out. Bucky took it instantly. Squeezing hard.

“You’d better not join me, you hear?” He warned the scrawny man. Steve only smiled softly.

“I can’t make promises.”

Bucky sighed. An emotion he couldn’t quite name welling up inside his chest. Damn near making it burst.

“Stay out of trouble. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” He instructed. Steve grinned, recognizing one of their familiar phrases.

“How Can I? You’re takin’ all the stupid with you.”

There were approaching voices. One he recognized as T’Challa— the deep, accented baritone ringing pleasantly in his ears. Even from down the hall. There was another, this one unfamiliar. But the tone of their words wasn’t hostile.

It was boisterous and friendly.

He didn’t recognize it.

His eyes opened, heavy lidded and sleepy. Energy fading— his stomach growled lowly. It was common after sessions, to be so drained and exhausted, it barely registered anymore.

The door to their private room swung open, the pair of voices becoming more prominent now. T’Challa threw his head back slightly, laughing at the woman who walked beside him. She herself grinned, pleased to have elicited a response from the king.

Shuri, who had turned as soon as the door opened, grinned broadly, her hands on her hips. Weight thrown onto one side.

“I was beginning to think you’d never return.” The princess teased lightly.

The stranger returned the manic grin, equally as blinding. She approached, her arms outstretched to pull the young scientist into a bone crushing embrace.

Bucky could tell it was tight, by the way she squeezed, the rustle of clothes, the small puff of breath that escaped Shuri’s lungs.

“As if.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes in jest. “I got caught up in South America for a while— had a couple… discrepancies pop up.”

Shuri hummed, low in her throat. A noise of disbelief, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. Lips pursed.

“Uh- huh, just like you were caught up in Australia when my birthday came around.” She retorted. The woman shifted her weight under the scrutinizing glare.

“I already apologized for that.” Her tone was exasperated— Bucky could only assume the two had the conversation many times before. Shuri only shook her head, her attention retuning to her holograms. The woman finally took a moment, her eyes scanning the room. Landing on Bucky’s stormy blue eyes. Surprise littered her features, lifting her brows as she murmured: “Hello.”

Bucky gave a small, tight lipped smile, with a tilt of his head. His eyes flicking away just momentarily before adhering themselves back to her face. He shifted to his right slightly, lowering his shoulder, somehow hoping that she wouldn’t notice the missing limb.

T’Challa opened his mouth to begin introductions but his sister beat him to it.

“This is James— a broken white boy I have been rebuilding.” She called over her shoulder, adjusting a few settings.

“Shuri. A little more class.” T’Challa scolded. Shuri’s middle finger popped up in response. The king ignored her and kept speaking. “Sergeant Barnes, I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine—“

“She was my friend first.” The princess interrupted.

“This is YN.” His voice broadened— talking over Shuri’s interruptions. He turned to the woman again, gesturing to Bucky. “This is Sergeant James Barnes. We are aiding in his rehabilitation.”

“More like working a miracle.” Bucky added. When her eyes flicked back onto his, he flinched and swallowed hard. The pure kindness in the irises jarring. It almost made his voice falter. “It’s nice to meet you.“

“Likewise.” YN offered one of the softest smiles he had ever witnessed. Eyes crinkling in the corners, lips upturned. Her eyes were suddenly shifting away, gracefully flowing over the mechanics surrounding Bucky’s upright body. “Quite the extensive set up, Princess.”

And just like that— their conversation, and moment, were over. Bucky snapped out of his trance, only realizing he was in one when he had followed the trajectory of her face. His nose stung with embarrassment, praying no one noticed.

“Oh! You must see the new installation upgrades I made on the Binary Augmentation Platform I have been using.” Shuri snagged Yn’s elbow, leading her toward a portion of the lab he typically didn’t enter.

Bucky watched as Shuri took off, the newcomer in tow. Seemingly forgetting about her previous concentration. T’Challa noticed his gaze and nodded with a light hearted chuckle.

“It seems I should have waited to bring her here— I forgot how distracted they could make each other.” T’Challa apologized.

In truth, T’Challa had known that Bucky and Shuri could have still been in a session. Sometimes, if he was doing okay with the memories, Shuri would let him keep going. Bucky would come to, sweaty and out of breath, mind reeling. Unaware of the setting sun.

But YN had been adamant. She hadn’t been to Wakanda in months, being tugged from one end of the world to the other and she was eagerly anxious to greet her friend. As hard as he had tried, T’Challa couldn’t slow her down.

“No, no. It’s okay, I feel like we’ve been here for hours anyways.” Bucky chuckled quietly, gently peeling electrodes from his neck and chest.

As he lifted his hand to remove the mechanisms on his ears, Bucky risked another glance at YN. Her eyes hadn’t dipped away from his face once while they were speaking. Usually, conversations went the same way. The person’s attention continuously being drawn to the absent appendage— some people even asking about it.

And while he wasn’t ashamed of his disability it was always a tad awkward. He always left feeling self conscious— which he loathed.

So he didn’t meet new people. Avoided contact as often as possible. Stayed to himself. Being alone meant no conversations and no conversations meant no explanations.

But somehow, YN hadn’t even seemed curious about his arm. Matter of fact, she didn’t even seem to care why he was being rehabilitated. Or harbored by the royal family.

Did she even recognize him?

Who didn’t watch the news nowadays? Maybe not even news stations— he was almost certain that when he was a fugitive from Shield, they had plastered his mug across every platform and internet server they could get their hands on.

With suspicious eyes, he watched the pair of women glide around the edge of the lab. Shuri jabbering on about upgrades and new prototypes she’s begun experimenting with. Even the new set of screwdrivers she ordered two weeks prior, which Bucky had also heard about.

YN follows dutifully, nodding and giving comments when prompted. Bucky wondered if she really understood everything the eccentric scientist was saying.

What kind of woman is this?

Bucky found himself sitting in the gardens. He knew they existed, that they were open to everyone. Yet, they were almost always empty. Even he didn’t go into them— if he wanted nature, he would go into the wilderness and jungles in the country. Or visit the small villages to help out with the farming.

But here he was.

Watching the warm breeze blow. Feeling the sun beaming down on his head.

It was peaceful— just as every hideaway in Wakanda. Serene and peaceful. Beautiful.

Then a figure almost barreled into the garden entrance, Bucky flinched, the intruders head turned to watch behind them.

What were they running from?

Suddenly, their face was visible— YN. The strange visitor from three days ago, the lab. She was still here?

With startled, wild eyes, YN nearly leapt out of her skin as she saw him. Seemingly more surprised by seeing a person, than him in particular.

“Oh, hi…” Her voice was timid, almost rough sounding. As though she hadn’t spoken in a while. Her eyes darted back to where she came from, weight shifting from foot to foot. Fingertips drumming an irregular beat against the coffee cup in her grasp. “I’m sorry, usually no one else is out here.”

“No, it’s, fine. I’m not usually out here.” Bucky supplied. Surprisingly, to himself mostly, he didn’t get up to leave. Didn’t move from the bench.

It was even more of a surprise when she, dropping her anxious behaviors almost immediately, and asked:

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Bucky blinked, staring at her outstretched, hand. Gesturing to the seat beside him. She didn’t seem to be offering out of necessity, nor out of awkward nerves.

“Go ahead.” He replied easily; Inside he was burning with paranoia.

She sat down, rather fluidly. No stiff limbs or awkward fumbling. She didn’t even slide back when she accidentally sat too close.

It was startling, perhaps it would have been refreshing had he known what she was up to. But he wasn’t sure what she wanted yet.

So, Bucky did it for her. While she settled in, he pressed his palm to the metal bench, attempting to subtly put distance between them. Somehow he managed to pull it off.

Either that or she wasn’t offended that he wanted space.

But… there was no way she didn’t know. She was a modern person, with modern interests, she watched the news. Why was she acting this way?

“So, you’re—“

“What is—“

They both abruptly stopped, their mouths hanging open. Bucky’s snapped closed as YN laughed. It sounded good— really good. He hadn’t remembered the last time someone’s laugh made an impression.

“Sorry, you go ahead.” She offered quickly, backtracking her own statement. Bucky nodded, in thanks, before beginning again.

“I was gonna ask how you knew Shuri and T’Challa.“

“I’m a horticulturist.”

Bucky didn’t exactly know what that meant but he wasn’t going to ask. He’d learned his lesson with the genius that was fixing his head.

He’d mistakenly asked about one of the machines she used which led to a slew of complicated words being hurled at high speed. She had also added in copious amounts of modern slang he had yet to fully grasp. All jumbling together, further mushing his brain.

She hadn’t truly explained a thing, unable to see that others didn’t understand her terms or the processes that went into her everyday life. Blaise to her complex world.

But it seemed he was quiet for a beat too long. YN gave a soft smile, twisting her coffee cup back and forth a few times before telling him: “I study plants.”

“I thought that was a botanist?” Bucky blurted out, internally freezing into place as he realized the avalanche he had just began.

He screamed too loud in the canyon.

Yn’s eyes lit up, seemingly intrigued by the topic and his knowledge. Bucky nearly sank back into his chair, steadying himself for the worst.

He wanted to learn all about her, all about everything really. But it was hard when all the scientists he had come into contact with spoke in cryptic words and long, hard to pronounce phrases.

“I’m kinda both. I’ve got degrees in both, anyways.” She nodded, twisting her coffee mug by the tips of her fingers. “A botanist is more… scientist. Horticulturalist is more of the get your hands dirty type. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, actually.” Bucky exhaled through his nose, a small, almost laugh. YN met it with a small smile. “Is that why you come to Wakanda so often?”

“Kinda. I do some work in the jungles here. Last month, I was in South America doing some work with the Rainforest Preservation Society. Before that, I was in Canada researching their invasive species and effects on their ecosystems.” Her voice almost abruptly tapered off, her lips sealing. Eyes darting toward his. “I ramble, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s interesting.” Bucky assured her, truthfully.

It seemed she wasn’t accustomed to that response— if her eyebrows were any indication. Nearly halfway up her forehead before she responded.

“You’re not just saying that to keep me talking so you don’t have to?” She teased. Bucky hummed, head tilting so that he could watch his fingers play with a string of his shirt.

Wondering where to begin. Would she know anything about him or would he just speak gibberish until she asked questions?

“I used to… before the war… before I was drafted, I would drag Steve all across the city to museums and expo’s and science fair’s. All sorts of science-y stuff.” He related, waiting a moment before continuing. “You do a good job at explaining— at least, so far, anyways. You make it easy.”

That seemed to do the trick— her smile immediately fell into pressed lips. Eyes falling to her hands, tapping against the coffee cup as a distraction. Bashful. That wasn’t something he’d anticipated.

“Oh, well… you make it fun.” She offered, attempting to turn it back to him.

Bucky knew that move. He did it several times a day, when Steve and Sam were around. Deflect and ignore.

He wasn’t quite finished yet, he needed more information and perhaps he could’ve obtained it differently but honestly, he was having a good time investigating and interrogating her himself.

And besides, he didn’t want to cause any trouble. It was obvious Shuri and T’Challa trusted YN enough to allow her into their lives and home.

He was just being paranoid and bored, was all. He could handle this himself.

“How did you even get into Wakanda?“ Bucky asked, a tilt of his head punctuating his question. It took half a moment to realize he had made a mistake. “Sorry, that came out wrong— I meant that this place seems pretty tight about their borders. I thought no one got in without an invitation from the royal family?”

She didn’t seem to mind. She only took a sip of her drink, taking a moment to savor it before responding.

“Shuri’s the one who called me that first time. Asked me to come because she was looking into this plant based medication. It was fairly interesting— definitely ingenious.” YN marveled, a small smile on her lips. “We probably talked for two weeks before T’Challa asked me to come in. After Shuri’s consult, he asked my opinion on a species taking over in the jungle. Then he gave me an offer to run a study on the plants of Wakanda. The first study of its kind.”

“Wow… So that’s what you do? Research and run experiments?”

“Ugh— I wish that’s all I did. I have to do a lot of bureaucratic stuff. But I think my favorite is the conventions and the university visits.”

“You teach?”

“A couple seminars, here and there. Just when I’m asked.”

“Must be a pretty big deal then?”

It was bait. He knew it was wrong, he just wanted confirmation. Sure enough, Yn’s head dipped. Eyes returning to their downcast position in her lap.

“I wouldn’t say that. I just… like my work. I like to share it.” YN corrected, her fingertips brushing along the arm of the bench. “Plants are important, to pretty much everything. They can do so much more than what we know…What about you? What are you doing in Wakanda?”

Bucky paused. Holding his breath. Was this bait— returning the favor from what he had done earlier?

The lighthearted nature of the conversation quickly crashed, sending waves of panic through his chest.

“The King offered his help in my… rehabilitation.” His words were careful, tone tentative. “I… lost a good chunk of my memories and…” oh fuck it. “I was held captive by an organization for seventy years while they brainwashed and manipulated me.”

A quiet laugh escaped from low in her throat. Her gaze cut sharply to Bucky when he didn’t join in. He saw it in her eyes before anything else. Recognition. It flashed dangerously. Apologetically.

“Oh, you’re… you’re serious. Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. I thought you were joking.” Her words were rushed and thoroughly apologetic, though Bucky thought it was almost… amusing. He almost laughed— lips quirking to the side.

“It’s alright— I’m coming to terms with it myself.” He admitted, watching a small bird swoop down to the grass. Hopping along a few steps and pecking before taking off again. “When I got here, first, I couldn’t tell up from down. Things were so twisted and tangled. Some things were fabricated, others were half truths. Nothing made sense.”

“How long have you been here?”

Bucky shrugged, thinking along his timeline. It was a struggle, as he never bothered to look at a calendar.

Didn’t matter anyhow. All the days blurred together.

“There were a few months, in the beginning, where I was cryopreserved. Then Shuri got her plans together and they thawed me. Not counting that, I’ve been here… seven months?”

YN nodded solemnly. She leaned back into the metal bench, her arm just barely brushing his. Skin tingling as her moved over, ensuring the space between them.

“But you’re better now?”

A laugh escaped through his nose, before he could stop it. No. He wasn’t better— or at least he felt worse now. Physical and mental aches, memories and ghosts keeping him awake.

But then again… he knew who he was. He remembered things. He knew what was real.

“Yeah. I guess I am.” He murmured.

“How long will you stay?”

“Until they manage to reverse the trigger sequence. Shuri is building me up to it— she told me she wants to get all my memories straight and it’s hard when more memories come up every day. Takes a little time.” He admitted.

It was silent between them after he spoke. The words setting into the air, but not making it dense. No tension.

Just… listening. And being.

He liked it.

“Everything worth it takes time.” YN finally broke into their quiet. Her index finger tracing over the rim of the cup. “And you’ve probably heard this a million times but, I’m glad you’re okay and I’m sorry that happened. Wasn’t fair.”

He didn’t acknowledge her words, not verbally. Not to her. He just took them in. Felt the sincerity, could almost taste it in the air. Wafting from her.

Bucky’s eyes followed the shift of the trees in the wind. Listening to her breathing, her heart beat. The birds.

Just being.

“I’m done with the chicken— what’s next?” YN asked, holding her hands up. Wiggling her fingers to emphasize her completion.

“Wash your hands, first.” Bucky instructed, fingers brushing through divots on the potatoes in the sink.

Cooking lunch was something Bucky hadn’t done in a long time. It was definitely slightly more difficult with one less hand. Though, both of Yn’s were helpful in aiding. Under direction, of course.

Bucky hadn’t expected to actually like speaking with her— he hadn’t expected to become acquainted with her at all. He assumed she was making small talk, just speaking with him because he was there.

But that hadn’t been the case at all.

YN was consistent. She would make it a point to find him on days she was at the palace. It wasn’t often at first, after her first visit it took almost a month for her to come back. But after that, she had Bucky had almost stuck together like glue.

And he hadn’t minded it at all. He liked talking with her. Being with her. He liked her company. She brought such a relief with her, soothing rain pattering on glass panes. A rhythm completely her own, that was slowly invading his space. That he was accepting. Wholeheartedly. Without complaint.

Now, her visits were more frequent. She told him that she had time allotted to give him, moving her schedule around to make the four day visits possible.

It had made his heart sing when she told him.

It meant everything to him.

So with their sparse time together, both Bucky and YN made it worth it. He often invited her to lunch— though this was the first time they cooked together, usually venturing out into the city to find a restaurant.

YN had to work a few days while she was there; The bright side of that was that whenever he wasn’t in a session with Shuri, she would bring him along. Down into the jungles and rainforests to find her bio-markers, to continue her study. Bucky would watch, enraptured, as she carefully collected soil and plant samples, attempted to propagate certain plants, eager to begin her studies. She would give him her camera, instruct him how to take the photos she needed, showed him her notebook for the area’s species.

As mundane as it was, he enjoyed being her assistant. Because the whole time, she would talk. Explain her processes, why she was doing what she was, explaining what she wanted or expected to happen.

She was eager to share with him, to show him. But as open as she was, as encouraging as she was, Bucky couldn’t help but feel guilty.

He didn’t know why— it was irrational. Something Ayo had pointed out after he had apologized for simply sitting too stiffly in the lab one too many times.

Bucky had a reason for the guilt, this time around. He had asked Shuri for YN’s case studies and her thesis’ for her study on Wakanda’s eco life. The princess hadn’t given it a second thought, granting him a tablet with all inclusive access to her works.

He’d been enthralled for weeks.

But then, when he saw her again, in person, it felt… creepy. He felt like he’d been stalking her or something. Her works were so full of passion it felt invasive.

“Here, you can get these potatoes. I’ve washed them and peeled them— just chop.” Bucky passed the dishpan over before starting in on the chicken she had finished chopping.

“Got it.” She confirmed.

Bucky waited in the silence of, maybe six seconds, before his heart burst in his chest. Sending the shrapnel through his body and forcing the first words out.

“YN, I, uhm…” He paused, his tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth. All too aware of her, just standing in his kitchen. “I read your Wakandan species study. I asked Shuri to get it together and I read it last weekend.”

There was a moment’s silence. Bucky winced, all the emotion he’d packed down began creeping back up. With no where to go except into his brain. Filling to the brim with anxious thoughts.

“Oh?” YN’s voice didn’t sound nearly as tight as he thought it would be. He couldn’t even hear an ounce of anxiety from her. She almost sounded… excited. He glanced back over to her, seeing that she’d stopped her task completely. Staring at his figure in anticipation. “How’d you like it?”

“It was great. Amazing.” He was quick to assure her of his opinion, his face flushing with heat as he turned back around. His eyes downcast to the pot on the stove. He busied himself with the spices he’d dig out of the cabinet. “Shuri gave me all of them— I’ve gotten through four. Still got a few to go.”

“If you decide to read them, please tell me what you think. I’ll leave my number for you to call me.” YN suggested, grinning down at her potatoes.

He paused. Uncertain of the new twist of the conversation. This hadn’t been how he’d pictured it at all. No where near the reaction he’d expected.

He found himself wondering, yet again, who was this woman? Who defeated and defied all his expectations and preconceived notions? Usually, his first impression of a person fulfilled their typical personality. He wouldn’t have been so good at being the Winter Soldier had that not been a part of him.

Intuition was key.

But, something was wrong. Maybe his intuition was broken? Maybe all the anxiety he felt nowadays was throwing him off his game?

He didn’t like it. With YN it was fine— he… he trusted her not to switch. She was constant. Consistent. But with others… it could prove to be a problem.

“You aren’t mad I read it?” He asked, eyes glued to the cabinets in front of him. Fire licking up his neck, the residual heat nipping his ears.

He knew his face was burning at an uncontrolled color. The hairs at the base of his neck itched, an irritating constant brush against his skin. He was becoming all too aware of everything, the longer he stood there. Adding spices. Face burning. Stomach churning.

If YN noticed, she didn’t say a word.

“I published it for anyone to read. You’re not making me upset by putting them to use.” YN chuckled, pressing her lips together, trying to suppress her giddy smile.

He read her articles. Looked at her research. Listened to her drone on and on about this and that, helped with her projects.

Good god— the man was perfect.

YN bit down on her lip, sneaking a glance up at Bucky again. Broad shoulders filling out his t shirt wonderfully, tapered waist. Thick chestnut hair tucked into a low bun, a stray piece slowly slipping from behind his ear. The tips of the his ears were pink, his neck a matching tint. She only wished he would turn so she could see those startling blue eyes�� the comforting hues she’d grown so familiar with.

She hummed contentedly, finishing up her task. Her hands sticky from potato starch.

Bucky took a final, settling breath before turning around with a jar of olive oil in his hand. With a couple of back- and- forth’s, he’d moved all his spices over to her counter to begin working on the next dish.

He had been self conscious about his disability, at first. But YN didn’t seem to mind. She treated him… normally. Asked him to do things— which seemed normal at first, until he noticed that no one else asked him to ‘grab that’ or ‘hand me this, please’.

Apparently around this place, if a person had one arm, it meant don’t bother them.

Shuri had mentioned, around the same time YN had started showing up, that she had begun building his new arm. But he wasn’t sure he wanted it, not now at least.

He much rather preferred YN seeing him with no arm over a metal one. He posed less risk this way. He wanted the least threatening options available. This was safer.

Besides, he was getting accustomed to this new adjustment rather well, not that he would brag or anything.

“Hey, how do you work this?” Yn’s soft, confused voice floated into his peripherals. Snapping him from his reverie.

She pressed a few buttons on the oven, brows scrunched adorably while she tilts her head. Her lips twisted into a half frown, pout combination.

Bucky smirked, exhaling a laugh through his nose quietly as he wiped his hand on the nearest towel. He turned, leaned over her shoulder. Basking in the warmth gleaned from her body from the barely there proximity. His arm snaked around her, finger pointing at the chrome dial on the appliance.

“You just, press, then twist it, like that.” He murmured, his fingertip skimming it to demonstrate. YN, hummed, lips now in a straight line. Eyes still glued to the oven. He couldn’t tell if she was avoiding his gaze or simply understanding the mechanics.

But he wouldn’t be able to stand there all day, peering over her shoulder and watching her reactions.

So he quickly input the correct instructions, setting the oven before sliding away. Back to his station. Garnering distance between their bodies.

“Oh. Guess that makes sense. Thanks.” YN muttered, leaning closer inadvertently to study the instrument closer. Bucky chuckled at her newfound fascination.

“How do you manage to get confused by kitchen appliances?” He asked, dumping the sliced vegetables into a dish. Evening them out as he grinned. “You’ve got like twelve degrees.”

YN scoffed, backing away, retuning to her position across from him at the counter. Opening the spices one by one, lifting them to smell after.

“I’ve only got three, thank you. And none of them are in kitchenware.” She teased, sniffing the basil before dumping it on top of the potatoes he was laying out. Bucky followed behind with the oil, amusement evident on his features.

“It’s a convection oven.”

“I didn’t get much practice in kitchens when I was little.” YN explained, humor in her tone. “Plus all this stuff T’Challa has is super fancy.”

Bucky shook his head ruefully, allowing her to take the dish to the oven while he turned back to the stove. He wanted to argue, that if he, a one hundred year old, war veteran, ex- captive and assassin, could figure out how to work a convection oven in the twenty first century, then YN certainly could.

“What did you do when you were a kid, then?” He asked, broaching his new favorite topic.

Her.

He noticed that she had become more comfortable with him. Easily giving him details of her work or her life. But when a compliment was involved, she shut down. Changed subjects.

As long as he stayed between the lines, she would keep going.

“My dad ran a mechanics shop and my mom was a geneticist. So I was between the shop and a lab for most of my free time.”

“Must’ve been pretty interesting.”

“I was the only kid in the third grade who knew how to put an engine together and the functions of all twenty three chromosomes.” YN declared proudly, her hands propped up on her hips. Her chin tilted up and shoulders back.

“But no ovens.” Bucky clarified with a soft grin. YN shook her head.

“No ovens.” She confirmed. Her hands fell back to her sides as she dropped out of her stance, poking at the sizzling chicken pieces with her fork. “What about you?”

“My ma taught me how to cook. She didn’t expect much but she wanted me to be able to take care of myself.” He explained, leaning into the counter with his hip.

In truth, Bucky loved watching his mother cook. He loved learning from her even more. It was something Steve could help with, as well, though he wasn’t much good at it. He could remember his family throwing few dinner parties, before the war especially. Though every time, whenever food was being cooked, Bucky could be found in the kitchen. Staring in amazement. Transfixed by his mother’s skills.

So he had picked up on a good amount of information to use for himself when he and Steve moved in together.

“Who’s this little guy?” YN asked, pointing up to the potted plant in his windowsill. Bucky scratched his neck, palm resting against the rewarming skin.

He was embarrassed to admit:

“I’m not sure. It was here when T’Challa put me here. I’ve just been watering it every now and then. It seems to like that windowsill.” He supplied sheepishly. YN’s jaw dropped in dramatized astonishment, eyes wide.

“You never named it?”

Bucky blinked. He had expected outrage at his complete lack of knowledge of the one plant in the place. But a name? That’s what she was upset about?

“The plant?”

YN laughed, her stern demeanor cracking, shattering at his confusion.

“Yeah. Everything deserves a name. Even begrudgingly adopted plants.” She explained. Bucky only lifted an eyebrow at her inherent silliness. YN didn’t take it personally— in fact, she kept going. “Fernando? Lilith? Carmen?Henry?”

“No.”

“Come on.” YN groaned, practically melting to the counter. Propping her head up, elbows planted firmly on the cool marble. Bucky shook his head, attempting to remain stern in his position.

“I’m not naming a plant. It doesn’t even know.” Bucky argued. Yn’s bottom lip curled, her brows knitting together. His heart stuttered, thudding to an irregular beat against his sternum. How the mighty fall. Who was he to say no to that? “Fine. Fine— you name it.”

YN clapped her hands together twice, wiggling in place happily. Bucky rolled his eyes, as she scooped the plant up to inspect it further. He had no doubt the thoughts running through her mind pertained to the species and family of the plant, every scientific fact she could think of pulling from every corner of her brain.

He could only stare at her face. Wondering how in the world they ever crossed paths.

“I’m going with…” YN twisted her lips and tilted her head. “Domino.”

Bucky nodded, accepting the fact that he now owned a named plant. He wasn’t calling it that when she wasn’t around. He refused.

“You name all your plants?” He teased. YN rolled her eyes, carefully replacing the plant to its original position. She took a moment to brush dust from one of the leaves before nodding.

Whether it was a response to his question or just a general head nod to Domino, he wasn’t sure.

“The one’s in my greenhouse are mostly, unfortunately, unnamed. But I do have some in my house that are named.” She skirted around Bucky, moving toward the fridge.

“Greenhouse?”

YN bent at the waist, leaning into his fridge, shuffling around for the dessert they had purchased earlier that morning. Bucky glanced over at her, from his place at the stove. His face flushed with excruciating heat— eyes shooting back to his business.

His mother had raised him better. He had class. He had self control. He exhaled softly as he heard the door close.

“Oh, you’d love it— I have this giant greenhouse. It’s where I house all the experiments and propagated plants and crossbreeds and— oh, it’s beautiful there.” YN crooned, practically swooning with reminiscence. He was sure she had that gleam in her eyes, the one she always got when she spoke about her work. Bucky loved that gleam. But he couldn’t meet her eyes just yet. “Of course, I have all of my scientific equipment in my office. It can’t stay with the plants because of the humidity. So I run back and forth a lot.”

Bucky cleared his throat, all too aware of the blush still prominent on his cheeks. He stirred the soup, keeping himself busy while it tamped down a bit. Once he felt composed enough, he spared a glance to her again. She was standing at the oven, peeking in at the potatoes.

“I’d love to see it.” He finally responded. Voice barely audible.

YN closed the oven, making her way back to the stove where Bucky stood stoically. Dutifully stirring their lunch. She leaned against the counter with her hip, crossing her arms over her chest.

“When you’re all better, cleared to leave here, I’m gonna take you there. Show you around. Introduce you to Pontifer, Lucille, Emilio, Raquel, everyone.”

She sounded… hopeful. As if he were going to be able to leave soon. She wanted to show him all these things— her things. Her work, everything she was so proud of. She wanted to introduce him to her life, incorporate him into it.

Have him around.

It made his throat swell closed, his eyes sting with tears he couldn’t correspond with any rational emotion.

“Let me guess— those are all plants?”

Bucky decided it was easier to address the silly names at the end of her statement first. He couldn’t even fathom how to cope with the words she had so easily spoken. They were just that: words. But why did they feel so heavy?

“Bingo.”

Bucky smiled, though it couldn’t hold for long. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it might be a very long time before he was deemed safe to leave Wakanda.

A long time before he felt safe again. Before he could trust himself with her safety.

For the millionth time in his life, Bucky cursed Hydra and every sorry bastard that joined. He cursed himself for ever picking up that stupid weapon— for thinking he could operate it without killing someone on that train.

Why hadn’t he just died that day?

Was that too much to ask?

Bucky clenched his jaw, trying to force himself back into the moment. He wouldn’t let himself spiral in front of her.

Because it was an ugly process to be alright again. Something she didn’t need to see. Not now. Not ever.

It would be a long time before he would be truly alright again.

But he would be alright.

He had Yn’s whole world to see. He had the whole world to see.

If nothing else, he could be alright for her.

“It’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

Shuri explained the situation as soon as she landed.

Her heart nearly shattered at the news.

Set backs and bad days were to be expected with anything, especially with people. With James.

It seemed that there had been a minor (Shuri’s words) complication a few days before YN had landed.

Bucky had been ecstatically happy— his face was brighter and he actually walked the halls of several wings. Even went out into the villages to see the markets and vendors. Played with a couple of the children, as well. Taught them how to skip rocks.

He had been doing so well. Exceeding expectations.

Shuri was convinced it was because of YN. James had never made that much consecutive positive progress, not even when he first arrived.

But then the Incident happened. Five days before YN was meant to return for another visit. Bucky was practically buzzing with anticipation. He’d even rambled to Shuri as she set up for their session— spilling his guts about everything YN had shown him. He delved into portions of her research he’d read, asked if there were any more he could have.

Shuri promised him she had plenty more she could print off and give him. They just had to get through their session first.

So he’d managed to calm his rapid heart, level his breathing. Steady his mind. Focus on their task.

Then it all went to shit.

The princess had gone too deep, triggering a relapse. The Soldier had returned.

And he was confused. Angry. Bloodthirsty.

Shuri managed to evade him as the guards struggled to subdue him. Even with one arm, the Soldier was a mighty opponent, desperate to escape his captors.

A swift blow to the head decommissioned him for at least a day— Bucky laid in an infirmary cot, handcuffed to the bar. Unconscious for most of his time there. When he woke up, he knew what happened. It was written on everyone’s faces— the pity, the terror, the uncertainty…

So when he was released, he returned to his room, locked the door and kept the lights off.

No one had seen him since. Not even Shuri or T’Challa. They both left him to his grievous moping. But YN didn’t accept that.

Shuri gave her a heads up, T’Challa followed her to his room, insisting she just give him more time. Allow him to recover from his relapse. He would be better and she could visit again soon. But YN kept walking— ignoring the king as he trailed behind her. Both Okoye and Ayo trailing behind him.

All she could think was ‘What if he didn’t get better with time?’ What if he needed help? Because she knew the only thing he was doing in that room was lying in agony— tormenting himself for things he had no control of. He wasn’t recovering, he was spiraling.

She pulled to a stop in front of Bucky’s door, arms crossed over her chest. Weight on one hip, tapping her opposite foot. T’Challa sighed, switching his gaze from Bucky’s door to YN’s face.

“YN… please. I know you and James mean very much to each other. I am only trying to keep your relationship peaceful.” His dark eyes were imploring— praying she would just heed his advice.

Because he too, had tried when James’ world went dark. His good intentions had led to dreadful, hurtful outcomes. It wasn’t worth the hurt that he’d inadvertently afflicted.

No, it was better to let James handle his own business. He knew how to handle his own heartache and turmoil better than anyone. He was always strong enough to drag himself back out of the mud.

He just needed to be alone while he did it.

“And I appreciate it. I know you want what’s best for him, so do I. But this is just something we’re gonna have to disagree about.” YN replied, her gaze even with T’Challa’s. Tension burned between their eyes. Neither willing to give way to the other. “If we let him, he’s just gonna rot away in there. He won’t get better. Not without some support.”

“He has pulled himself out of this before.” T’Challa argued, remaining firm.

“But now he’s got us. We’re his support system, we should support.” YN bit back, fire drowning her veins in indignation.

T’Challa settled back on his heels. She was prepared to argue themselves in circles. He could admire her for her strong will. Her steadfastness. Her hopefulness.

But perhaps she just needed a dose of reality to jolt her back into the real world.

“Ayo…” T’Challa began, his lips set into a firm line. YN straightened her spine, jaw set in preparation. He was going to forcibly drag her away— he had reached his limit. He wasn’t going to argue anymore. His deep brown eyes scorched her skin, but she didn’t back down. “Unlock the door.”

YN nearly jumped out of her skin, startled by his command. Her lips fell into a frown, brow creased at his lenience. As diplomatic as he was, T’Challa had a habit of being stubborn when he wanted to be.

Ayo stepped forward, fingertips tapping on the digital pad in the wall. Overriding James’ code with her own. The lock snicked quietly, signaling it had released and the door was open.

T’Challa had yet to take his eyes away from YN’s. She nearly squirmed under the severe pressure, manifesting in her chest. She was doing the right thing… wasn’t she?

A flash of self doubt quickly seeded itself into her mind, grasping a tight hold over her already overworked heart.

“Ayo will be outside, here in the hallway.” T’Challa informed her stiffly, finally tearing his eyes away and turning on his heel. Beginning down the hallway. “In case you need assistance.”

In case he isn’t truly finished being the Soldier.

“Good luck, YN.” Okoye murmured, her hand brushing the woman’s forearm lightly as she passed. Her head turned, watching the pair disappear from the hallway. Their footsteps eventually fading.

At least Okoye was in her corner.

YN exhaled forcefully, attempting to pull her confidence back into her body. She stared at the door handle for several long minutes. Preparing herself. Steeling her nerves, slowing her heart.

Ayo met her eyes, a kind gleam in her dark brown eyes. YN swallowed hard, inhaling shakily. Blinking hard.

What was she walking into?

T’Challa was treating the situation as dangerous— leaving guards and taking precautions. But Ayo and Okoye were encouraging her.

It was confusing, the opposite pull.

But… she could feel it. This was right. She was doing the right thing.

Finally, her fingertips stretched out and connected with the frigid metal. She closed it softly behind her, frowning as she walked through the dark. The blinds were drawn shut, every light turned off. There was no noise.

Deathly silent.

Unnervingly so.

Cold tendrils of dread crept up her spine, threading through her vertebrae. Consuming, feeding from her willpower.

Bucky needed someone. He was sulking in this environment— in the suppressing dark and freezing cold. This was no way to survive, he couldn’t live here. He couldn’t live in this headspace.

Despite the creatures clutching at her ankles, she kept pushing. Making her path through the familiar living room, down the short hallway and stopping at the cracked door at the end.

She shook away the nerves that stuck to her skin, cleared the anxiety out of her throat. Taking a deep breath before giving a quiet, warning knock. Calling his name softly as the door groaned, the hinges squeaking as she pushed it open.

She could barely see his frame— buried deep under a pile of blankets. His head was buried there too, pillows shoved to the side. The only thing remotely visible was part of his hair, the long chestnut locks tangled.

Bucky had heard the door unlock, he’d heard her come in. Walk to his bedroom. He had listened to it all. There had been a chance to get up and lock the bedroom door. But his muscles wouldn’t support it. He should have made himself do it.

“Bucky? You awake?” YN neared his bedside carefully. His room was as expected: neat and clean, spotless even. The only signs of someone living in the pristine environment was the man lying in the bed, if that was even considered living. “You wanna go for a walk? Get some fresh air?”

No response. YN grimaced, folding her hands awkwardly in front of her roiling stomach. Another wave of nauseous self doubt lashing at her mind. Anxiety ate away at her blood vessels, leaving her fingers and toes tingling and numb.

“Maybe we could grab something to eat.” She suggested, rocking forward on the balls of her feet. Not allowing the discouragement to take hold yet. “Ayo said you haven’t been out of your room in a couple days.”

Nothing.

He didn’t even budge.

YN sighed, despite herself, unable to hold it in. She took a step closer, resting a hand on his mattress.

“I know you feel miserable and that’s why I’m not leaving until you say something.” She demanded, her voice leaving no room for his reluctance or arguments.

“Go away.” Bucky’s voice was croaky— hoarse and rough from disuse and lack of fluids. But it made her heart soar— the muscle beating against her ribs as a new blast of hope shot through her body.

“Clever. It won’t work.” She grinned, attempting a more playful approach.

Carefully, she pulled herself onto the mattress, folding her legs beneath her and gazing at the unmoving mass of blankets beside her. Bucky groaned as the bed shifted, squeezing his eyes closed and rolling further away from her.

It ached. All over. He ached. He wanted her comfort, he wanted her hands brushing over his skin, fingers threading his hair and smoothing it out. He wanted to relinquish himself, give his all to the devotion of her.

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t deserve her. He was going to hurt her. One way or another, he was going to make her cry. And he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t watch her cry— he wouldn’t.

The only thing he could think of after he came to, after the hijacking, was that YN could’ve been there. She could’ve been in that lab with him. Or it could’ve been here— in his kitchen or living room. Or worse, they could’ve been in the middle of nowhere.

He would’ve killed her. No hesitation. The Soldier would have killed the one thing keeping Bucky’s head above water.

He was a fool for thinking he could keep her so close without repercussions.

“Go home, YN.” Bucky exhaled the words, barely able to move his mouth to form the words. Unconsciousness was beckoning him, sleep gripping his hair and tugging him down to the mattress. Pinning him still. “There’s nothing for you here.”

“You’re here,” She replied, without missing a beat. Without hesitation. Without remorse. “So, I think, by definition, that’s something.”

Bucky curled up tighter, desperate for more warmth. That pesky little voice near his right ear kept insisting YN was warm; She could’ve crawled under those sheets and warmed his whole body. Shed some light on his soul.

He couldn’t.

“Just leave… leave me alone.” He moaned, voice breaking halfway through. Bucky despised it. “Please.”

YN frowned deeper, staring at his blanket- clad body. For a moment, T’Challa’s voice was clear. His intentions. He had wanted to protect them both. He didn’t want YN to inadvertently make Bucky feel worse. He didn’t want Bucky to make YN lose hope.

Because as good as they were together, as perfectly as they fit, this could only lead to bad things.

But YN was stubborn. Even more than T’Challa’s just fist. Even more than Bucky’s self depreciation.

“No.” She spat out, fiery indignation burning her esophagus. Unrelenting and demanding. “I’m not letting you stay here alone. I’m not giving up on you. You still haven’t seen the greenhouse—“

Suddenly, Bucky shoved the blankets off his body, pulling himself into a seated position. The shock evident on her face— mouth open and eyes wide. A gasp stuck in her throat. Her heart rate picked up. He could hear her lungs quicken in pace.

“Don’t you get it: I’m never going to leave this place. All this shit, it doesn’t even matter because every time I close my eyes I see it all. I relive it all.” He roared, sitting up on his knees. YN fell back onto her ass, her feet flung out in front of her. Prepared to scramble out of the way. “What’s it going to take to make you see that I’m never going to get better? I’m still him and that’s never going to change.”

YN swallowed. Bucky grit his teeth. Blue eyes smoldering as he stared her down. Waiting for one of them to crack under pressure. She shifted under the penetrative glare, her teeth biting down on her lip. Eyes watering.

Oh god, it was coming. The inevitable. She was going to cry. And Bucky was going to fling himself out of his window and hope for death.

”I don’t know, Buck. Maybe I was hoping that I could make you see what I could.” YN’s voice shook, warbled and warped with anger lacing her words. Bucky could see it in her scrunched up features. Hear it in her racing heart.

She pushed off of the bed just as Bucky fell back, sitting on his heels. Watching as she yanked the door open and slammed it closed as she left.

Silence.

Now that he had it, he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore.

Because now, he could hear her heart breaking. He could hear his own. The first thing he’d felt in days.

Heartache.

Bucky snatched the nearest pillow and flung it, in a fit of petulant, childlike anger.

He wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. Just that it was there. Lying just out of reach.

Flopping back down, Bucky returned to his cave of fleeting warmth and shame. Wrapping his arm around his abdomen to ease the nausea creeping up his throat. Trying to burrow deep enough to find indifference. Numbness.

He lay there for what felt like hours, waiting. But he never heard the doors open. And he never heard any stifled sobs or tears.

Instead, he heard the television click on. Turned down to a volume where he could barely hear it. He heard the soft noises of YN in his kitchen, rummaging quietly through a cabinet.

She wasn’t leaving.

He couldn’t shake her.

She hadn’t left for the entire week. Bucky could hear her every morning— make her coffee before stepping out for thirty minutes, maximum. Then she’d return, make breakfast. She’d offer it to him and every time he’d ignore her.

She would tinker around in his apartment until lunch, offer him lunch. He could always smell the aromatic dishes as she cooked. Listened to her hum quietly. But again, he would ignore her.

During the afternoon, Bucky would drift in and out of consciousness. The times he was awake, he could hear her typing away on her laptop or talking quietly on the phone.

YN was always careful to keep it quiet, her tone always soft, her movements always padded.

At night, he would hear her quiet typing begin to cease, her breathing even out. She would fall asleep on his couch.

She would hear Bucky get up a few times, sparsely throughout the day to use the bathroom. More so at night when he thought she was asleep.

But he wouldn’t eat. He would just shuffle to the bathroom, drink a couple sips of water before ducking back into his room and closing the door quietly.

The week had gone by relatively the same each day. No improvements, no changes. YN only got more concerned every day that passed.

But her time was running out. She was due in South Korea for a convention and she had to get back to her work after that. YN hated to leave him like this but she had been there for a week and all it seemed he wanted was to be left alone. To sleep it off.

YN dried her hands on the dish towel, sighing as she glanced at the dishes she left to dry on the dish rack. She hoped Bucky wouldn’t be upset, by her making herself at home in his apartment.

As much as a home she could’ve made it, without him there.

She maneuvered around the furniture of the living room, grabbing her backpack from the couch. Moving tentatively toward his bedroom door. Slinging her bag over her shoulder.

YN knocked lightly on the doorframe, giving a warning before pushing the door open slightly. It was the same as it had been all week. Buried under the mountain of blankets. Blinds drawn shut. The air stiff and stale.

“Buck… if you’re awake, I have to go.” She informed him softly. Her eyes strained, watching for even the smallest amounts of movement. Any sign of life. She leaned heavily against the frame, pressing her hip into the wood. “There’s leftovers in the fridge and I made soup earlier. It’s on the stove. If you feel like eating anything.”

No response. She hadn’t known what she was hoping for. Things like this didn’t heal overnight, not even after a week. She should’ve just left when he told her to, she should’ve listened. YN nearly cursed herself, swallowing down the guilt to mellow in her belly, along with the dark hopelessness that had settled in that morning.

YN sighed, shifting her weight back to her feet and taking a few steps into his room. She pulled her backpack from her shoulder, digging down into the side pocket and fishing out a bottle of pain pills. She wasn’t sure if ibuprofen would work on super soldiers but it was worth a shot.

Placing them gently on his bedside table, she put the bottle of water down on top of the sticky note. She backed away, opening the door a little wider before glancing back over her shoulder.

Dammit.

YN closed the door behind herself.

Bucky waited until he heard her steps fade, the front door to his apartment closing and locking. He turned over, struggling against the thick blankets and his tangled, matted hair.

He squinted at the strip of color beneath the water bottle. His fingers slipped it out, the paper unfamiliar between his digits.

‘You’ve always got me, Jamie, remember that, always.’

A small, hastily scribbled, crooked heart filled in beneath the scrawled words.

A huff escaped his nose, lips pulling despite himself. Eyes watering and cheeks stiff as the rusty muscles moved for the first time in two weeks.

The African sun was harsh— beating down on the back of his neck. Sweat drenching his chest, making his shirt stick.

YN huffed out, stepping over a fallen tree branch, her hands thrown out for balance. Her boots crunching against the jungle floor. Legs glistening with a sheen layer of sweat.

“Ooh, what’s this?” Bucky asked as they stopped. YN leaned back, squinting at the flower he pointed at.

“Strophanthus welwitschii— indigenous to tropical East Africa. It’s used in a wide range of medicinal remedies. The seeds can be ground up, used for arrows— they’re pretty potent for poison.” She responded. Bucky hummed, yet again impressed at her expansive knowledge.

“Guess I shouldn’t touch it then?“ He winced, drawing his hand back into his abdomen. YN laughed softly. Her black backpack swayed as she swung it to her feet to dig her journal from it.

He had offered to carry the bag but she declined. Her explanation was that he didn’t need the cardio from the extra weight. He wanted to argue that she didn’t either but, it wouldn’t have meant anything. Just drive their argument in circles.

“It’s safe— the seeds are what’s dangerous.” She corrected.

Bucky studied the plant for a moment before deeming it safe to trust her word.

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured, fingertips brushing against the leaves gently. Admiring the soft pinks and vibrant maroon that laced the white petals.

“That it is.” She agreed.

Bucky watched as she crouched down to the ground, at a different plant. It looked to be some type of fern— he was learning. She made a careful snip on the leaf before sliding it into her reusable storage bag. Cataloguing it with a number before tucking it into her journal.

He had been reluctant to meet her this time. Considering he had yelled at her the last time she was in the country.

Even thinking about it brought an angry flush to his chest. He felt so stupid, why hadn’t he just locked his doors? Why did he even let his anger get that out of hand— to yell at his friend. His best friend, of all people.

He hadn’t even been angry at her. It was always his fault. He always assigned blame to one person. He could only thank himself for it.

But even then, YN had searched for him— found him in his apartment. Demanded he go hiking with her, like usual.

So far, Bucky’s awkwardness had not been reciprocated. YN was her usual self, going about like their previous conversation hadn’t existed.

YN righted herself, swinging her backpack up and onto her shoulders again. Ready to start their trek to the next marker.

“You’re like a walking encyclopedia.” Bucky teased, his shoulder bumping into hers as they walked slowly.

“Thank you.” She grinned, damn near brighter than the sun. He almost had to turn away— shield his eyes from the shine. “What about you, Whatcha got?”

It had started with her first visit. It was an almost, unspoken deal they had going. He would ask a question about something he wanted to know more about, in return, he would talk to her about memories that surfaced.

So far, he had been only sharing the good things. The best pizza in Brooklyn was made by an old Italian woman on his block. His sister, Rebecca had one time beaten him at a race around the block, even though he was an athlete in school. Steve and Bucky sitting with his mother in the kitchen, staring as she delicately braided Becca’s thick hair. The pair immediately attempting to learn and miserably failing.

It helped. Tremendously. To be able to retell stories and relive experiences. Being able to vocalize the good made the bad seem not so scary. Not so dark. It made him realize how much good he actually held within the cavity of his chest.

So he would tell her stories. She would give him facts and history about certain species of plants and every little tidbit she had stored in her expansive mind.

Of course, it was difficult to keep her on task, sometimes. Bucky would see this manic light come to life behind her irises at the mention of her favorite topics. Her conversation, if not steered, would be derailed within minutes.

It was amazing to see how her mind worked. Bucky adored watching her speak and explain and make seemingly random connections.

But it seemed they always had limited time. She would be upset if he let her talk all the way through their day, without him being able to squeeze in.

So, he recalled the last few memories he had gleaned from his previous session with Shuri. He had one the day before— it was a lighter one. No bad memories surfaced, at least.

“Jumping rope with Rebecca and George and Steve.” Bucky revealed, a melancholic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Recalling the his friend and two younger siblings, all shouting and calling out rhymes. The rhythmic tap, tap of the spinning rope against the sidewalk. “Steve couldn’t do much because of his asthma but he could spin the rope. He just liked being able to go outside… ‘nd George always got his foot caught, always fell and scraped his knees all up.”

A sharp cry from the boy would send him toppling to the ground, his knees bloody and palms scraped. He had taken to carrying bandaids in his pockets for his clumsy brother, and when Steve would get caught in the alley by bigger boys. Bandaids wouldn’t solve a broken nose, but it helped with the gash in his forehead until his ma could deal with it.

Bucky fell quiet, being sucked back in to memories of the all the kids on the block playing baseball. Drinking fresh fruit punch on the stoop of the Roger’s apartment complex, the kind Sarah always made for Steve’s birthday.

“I always find it amazing, when you tell me these stories about Steve— being small and… immunocompromised. Then I see pictures and he’s this… giant beast of a guy, knocking out bad guys for a living.” YN laughed, her eyes glued to the ground, watching for critters and roots.

Bucky hummed, in agreement. He couldn’t begin to articulate the surprise of when he had seen Steve, post- serum. It shocked him into speechlessness. Course, he’d been loopy with pain and exhaustion and whatever the hell was in that serum.

In complete transparency, Bucky thought he’d been hallucinating.

But by now, he was used to tiptoeing a line between real and fabricated— the hallucinatory make believe that had been spoon fed and crammed down his throat. Not much felt strange anymore.

His head tilted, eyes scanning Yn’s face as she watched her step on the gnarled path.

Some things he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

Like her. YN made no sense to him, which was errantly confusing; She was one of the most easily pleased, simple person he had ever met. He shouldn’t have been so confused— perhaps a little more trusting of her consistent nature.

But she just treated him… differently. Not as a war veteran, an amputee, a long lost best friend, a struggling new friend, a damn piping hot, mess of a human being with scrambled eggs for brains.

To her, he was just Bucky. A new friend who liked to listen to her stories and her travels and her passionate rants about the ecosystem. Someone she wouldn’t give up on. No matter how hard he’d tried.

How hard he kept trying.

As they approached a blocked portion of their path, Bucky stepped forward. Pushing a fallen tree over with foot. Out of her way.

“You know… it’s really unhealthy to stay with someone who yells at you.” Bucky muttered, holding a tree branch up. YN ducked underneath, the scent of her shampoo whisking by. Unable to stop himself, he inhaled deeply, wincing as he realized what he did. Praying she didn’t notice.

“You didn’t mean it.” YN waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissive as she readjusted her backpack straps.

Bucky blinked, wildly confused by her indifference.

She should be mad— why isn’t she furious with him? Why didn’t she immediately cut ties when he yelled at her? When he pushed her away?

That creeping paranoia returned. Crawling up into his throat, sinking silver claws deep into the muscles. He always felt estranged when things didn’t go the way his brain had planned— when she threw curveballs.

Rocked the rhythm he’d set so carefully.

“Making excuses for them is even worse.” He prompted, attempting to keep his argument going. But the steam was running out. Running on empty as her head dipped, feet slowing to a stop.

“If you’re trying to apologize, you’re doing a terrible job.” YN cocked an eyebrow.

Bucky’s eyes scanned her face, searching for any giveaways, any micro expressions. Something to tell him he was correct in his paranoia, that she was keeping up this mask of patience and that it was running thinner by the moment but…

It wasn’t there.

Not in her eyes, that shone with sincerity and humor. Nor was it found in the slight tilt of her lips. The wrinkle in her forehead wasn’t even of annoyance or misunderstanding.

“I’m trying to make you see that I’m not… I get…” Bucky’s sentence spluttered to a halt, his mind grasping for a word just out of reach. One that wasn’t completely derogatory toward himself, one that she wouldn’t give him a disappointed grimace for.

He could not show her how he felt about himself. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Moody.” YN supplied gently, bumping his abdomen with her elbow. An understanding smile on her face. “I know. That’s human. To be human is to feel. And sometimes you feel too much. Sometimes you don’t feel at all. And that’s okay. But you’re good. And I’m not going anywhere until you can see that good too.”

His throat closed off almost instantly. Bucky could feel the tears well up behind his eyes— salt water stinging his corneas as they dampened.

Guilt tore at his guts. He hadn’t deserved any of this from her. He wasn’t the person she was making him up to be. There was no good left, not enough to salvage. There was no James Buchanan Barnes remaining for her to save. Or to help.

He was a ghost. A man out of time. Out of place— even in his own body.

He wasn’t the kind you save. Not anymore.

Bucky opened his mouth— after a long moment of collecting himself from her words, forcing his throat to open and his lungs to keep pumping.

“I—“

A shrill ringtone cut through his words. YN winced, lips pressing together. Her eyes flashing with the first sign of annoyance he’d ever seen before. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips before gritting her teeth.

“I’m so sorry. Do you mind?” YN asked, not making a move to retrieve her phone. Bucky quickly weighed his options— choosing a cowards route. Avoiding the current conversation as long as he could.

“Go ahead.” He confirmed, brushing loose strands of his hair from his face.

YN frowned as she fished the device from the pocket of her backpack. A crease forming between her brows as she studied the screen before sliding her finger across it.

“Your Majesty?” She stopped walking, pausing in the clearing. Bucky pulled to a stop beside her. Watching as her face contorted from concern to mild confusion. Her eyes fell to his, cementing him into place. He froze, startled by her intense gaze. “Is there? We’re turning back now.”

YN frowned deeper, shoving her phone back into It’s original pocket. Bucky swallowed, unsure of what exactly had her bright mood suddenly dampened. But he knew it was something to do with him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have looked at him that way.

“What is it?” He asked, tentatively.

YN shifted, a deep sigh escaping her throat. Her hand lifted, brushing along the back of her neck. Wiping sweat away and pushing stray strands from her skin. Lips pursed, pressed tightly before she rested her palm against her neck, letting it hang.

“You have visitors.”

He wanted to strangle them.

He wanted to wrap his hands around their necks and squeeze.

Bucky sat on the uncomfortable leather, squeaking every time he shifted. Which, apparently, was more than he realized. Across from him, sat Steve and Sam.

In the early stages of his recovery, Bucky couldn’t shake the two. They seemed to be around every corner. Asking him to go places or do things— take his mind off of recovery. Attempting to push his comfort limits piece by piece, carefully expanding his borders.

It served to do nothing but stress him further— the two men were trying a pace much too advanced for his mental capacity.

Shuri had taken notice of his extreme mood swings and increased paranoia. All stemming from peer stress. When she finally got him talking, Bucky admitted that he didn’t like that people were coddling him and constantly near him.

His support system was too extensive. Too invasive.

Their visits had become more sparse, with Shuri’s insistence that he would make more progress without them leering.

Besides, Steve had to clean up the mess he left with Tony Stark. It had taken up most of his time so he hadn’t been able to stay for long. Sam had to get back to his family in Louisiana— they’d had their own things to deal with.

After that, he didn’t mind their bi-monthly visits.

But today was one of his only days with YN. There weren’t many and they were cutting into his time with her. To make things worse, he and YN only had two more days together before she was off to New Zealand to consult with an eco project. She’d be gone for at least two months.

He didn’t know if he would survive it.

“You sure you don’t want something to drink, Buck?” Steve asked, passing Sam the orange juice he’d requested.

“I told you, I’m fine.” Bucky insisted, leaning back into the padded chair. His hand brushing along his thigh, swiping sweat off his palm.

He was grateful for everything Wakanda, and the royal family were doing for him, but he was even more grateful for the air conditioning in the palace. It was usually hot and humid in the country but somehow, today seemed to surpass his expectations.

It hadn’t helped that he and YN had been in the jungle not thirty minutes before.

God, what he’d give to be back in the million degree weather, sweating profusely, listening to YN talk and guide him along the wilderness.

“Cheer up, old man, we’re not here to walk you to the choppin’ block.” Sam grunted, a teasing lilt to his voice. Bucky’s eyes rolled, opting to ignore his comments as usual.

“Yeah, you act like we’re coming to make your life hell every time we’re here.” Steve added after a hearty gulp of his own water. The two visitors had yet to accustom to the scorching temperatures of the African country. “It’s like pullin’ teeth with you sometimes.”

Bucky shifted further down into his chair, sending a scathing glare across to his visitors. Steve lifted an eyebrow. He had been on the receiving end of one too many of those looks to respond with anything other than one of his own.

Finally, the brunette muttered a ‘whatever’, and turned his glare to the wall. Steve smiled, quite smug at his newfound ability to deter the grumpy man’s infamous stare down.

“You’ve got some color back to your skin,” Sam noticed, nodding toward the sulking soldier. “Gettin’ more fresh air now?”

“Yes.” Bucky’s response was short, stilted with attitude. His attention focused elsewhere.

“What’ve your been up to outside— farming?” Steve prodded.

T’Challa had explained his plans to Steve when they arrived the first time. After his rehabilitation, if Bucky chose so, he could be granted a home in the countryside. A small village sect on the outskirts of Wakanda.

He had been hopeful, that Bucky would soon be able to make the transition to the next phase. T’Challa had given a short report when he and Sam arrived that morning. Bucky had been doing much better and he seemed to be going strong in his memory recovery. They had even begun with his deprogramming.

It would be slow moving but it would definitely be faster than the memory portion.

“Hiking. Going down to the city for a few hours.” Bucky answered, purposefully leaving out a key aspect of his purpose for hiking and city- visits.

Just as Steve opened his mouth to speak again, a phone alert sounded off. All three immediately reached— Steve and Sam eyeing Bucky suspiciously as he revealed his phone. Keeping it low to his lap.

Because it was his. Bucky’s phone had a text alert.

And that truly was uncommon.

It was a picture message. One that made his lips curl into a soft smile— one he tried to suppress so he didn’t appear even more suspicious.

He couldn’t.

It was YN. A picture of her and a couple of the village children. A crooked flower crown perched delicately atop her head, a matching, goofy grin on her lips.

His heart tugged, raged with longing; wanting desperately to be out there with her and the kids and the fresh air. He felt like a kid who’d been told he couldn’t go to the playground that day.

Bucky loved that village. He loved it even more when YN went to visit with him. So much his brain shouted, screamed— longing and begging him to get off his ass and leave the palace. Find himself at his own personal heaven.

Lying in the thick grass and watching the clouds shift by. Feeling the warmth from the sun on his skin— a warmth on his soul from the girl lying beside him. Shrieks of laughter peeling around them, a little boy hurtling directly at his legs before a whole gaggle of them pile around the pair of adults.

This shit wasn’t fair.

“Who was that?” Sam asked, attempting to be delicate, though his curiosity peeked through. Bucky glanced up, noticing that both men were staring directly at him.

He turned his phone face down, shoving it to the side.

“Shuri. She sends me these… picture things from the internet.” Bucky explained— much too smoothly.

“You laugh at memes?” Sam’s grin broadened. Bucky’s lips fell back into their natural scowl. Sam howled at the expression, his head thrown back in a loud laugh. “Oh that’s a goldmine of opportunity!”

Steve huffed out a chuckle at the ferocity of Bucky’s sour face. The apples of his cheeks burning a bright red, stained across his skin. Going toward his ears.

“I never said a word about you or those stupid television shows, why don’t you shut your mouth?” He growled out, fingers itching to reach something. To throw something at his smug face and shut his laughter down.

Sam pressed a hand to his chest, mouthing a low ‘Ooh’ to Bucky’s thinly veiled threats and deadly hairpin trigger.

“Ouch.” Sam hissed, sarcastically. “And I’ll have you know, America’s Funniest Home Videos is a classic and you’re missing out.”

“Alright, easy. Both of you.” Steve interjected, putting his foot down gently before things escalated, out of hand. Sam took another sip of his juice, eyebrows jumping playfully wile Bucky shook his head, a sarcastic sneer tugging at his upper lip. “You two could act civil together, you know that right?“

“I’ll be mature when he is.” Sam declared, throwing his palms out after placing the glass to the table.

“Over my dead body.”

“Bucky.” Steve warned, attempting to portray how close he was to the edge of the blonde’s patience.

Steve was playful— just like the others. He could joke and tease and shoot the shit all day, with the best of them. But he didn’t like when Bucky put himself down. He didn’t like when Bucky wasn’t fair to himself.

That was where he drew the line.

The door creaked open, Ayo’s confident footsteps befell their ears. All three men turned their eyes upon her lithe, built frame entering the door. Her intense eyes locked onto Bucky.

He swallowed, knowing only bad things could come from her today.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Ayo nodded in greeting to the other men before stepping closer to Bucky, her back toward the guests. She leaned in, her mouth close to his ear as she continued. Her voice low. “I’m afraid I have bad news; YN has been called in earlier than anticipated— she wished to say goodbye in person but I told her I would deliver it.”

The words hit him like a train. Pummeling his organs with a barrage of attacks. His mind reeling with the words and conversations that had been left unfinished. The things he wanted to share, to give to her. All of it.

Gone.

“Is she already gone?” He sat up, prepared to take off in a sprint to reach the air strip. To… to what? To stop her? Go with her? Say goodbye?

He would just be barreling into the airspace with no thoughts, no plan in mind to implement.

Just that he would see her.

“Her plane cleared takeoff ten minutes ago.” Ayo reported. He could almost feel the regret and consolation drifting from her body, crashing into his broken heart. Mingling into a toxic concoction of missed opportunity and disappointment in his blood.

“Right. Thank you.” Bucky mumbled. Eyes glued to the arm of the chair he had been sulking in.

Ayo nodded once more. She didn’t even know if he saw her back away. Or regretfully leave the room. His gaze remained locked on his target.

Once the door closed behind the warrior, and Bucky remained vigilantly silent, Sam took the initiative. Observing the obvious shift in demeanor. Unsure of what happened or what it would make Bucky do.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked gently, his head dipping lower to attempt at catching Bucky’s stone cold gaze.

The soldier clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. The man’s words grating over his exposed nerves, irritating his already strung out emotions.

“Nothing. Just…” Bucky snapped his mouth shut, an aggregated huff escaping. He shook his head, stiffly, muscles refusing to budge from their cramped positions. “Nothing.”

Sam and Steve glanced to each other, a moment of tense concern passing between them at the words. Bucky shifted further back into his chair, wondering if he could get away with saying he was tired and he wanted to go to sleep. He just wanted to be alone, for now. Maybe he would be in a better mood tomorrow— he didn’t want to deal with any of this shit today.

“We could help,” Steve prompted, sitting forward and leaning his elbows on his knees. “If we knew what you were upset about—“

“You’ve helped enough.” Bucky snapped, his glare returning full force and locking onto Steve’s blue irises. The moment their eyes connected, Bucky’s abdomen seared with rage. He pushed himself off the seat. “Both of you. You always choose the worst times to come here and fuck things up.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, his own eyes lighting up in a twin flame, akin to Bucky’s that burned along his organs. Consuming reasonable thoughts. Pushing the two toward a more explosive reunion.

The blonde matched his friend’s stance, his fists clenched as he stood up. Shoulders back and prepared for the argument.

“Now wait just a minute—“

“Hey, man,” Sam leapt to his feet, holding his hands out between the two super soldier’s chests. Hoping they didn’t just go through him anyways. He turned to Bucky, keeping himself collected. “Just take a minute to talk this through with us—“

Bucky scoffed, kissed his teeth with his tongue and spun around on his heel. Stalking toward the exit.

He slammed the door behind him.

Finalizing the blow. Leaving it to resonate, echo in ringing ears.

He had stewed in his anger all day. Opting to sit on the floor of his living room, staring holes into the sheet rock walls. Teeth grinding.

He wanted to throw things and destroy the place but he hadn’t moved a thing since YN was there last.

He had made it a point to not speak with YN either. He wasn’t upset with her, just that she had been called away early. That he had been graced with the presence of his friends.

God, his friends.

Bucky wanted to put his head through the wall— do something because he was the biggest idiot in the world.

Eventually, he couldn’t sit still any longer. He’d paced and chewed his fingernails down, nearly bit his bottom lip raw. Stomach twisting with anxiety and guilt— more anger building behind his sternum. But still, it was anger toward himself. It just boiled. Simmered. The same as him.

In the end, he’d fled the chilled corridors of his apartment and taken off to the guest quarters. Hoping his friends were still there— that they hadn’t become fed up with his bullshit and abandoned.

Three knocks to the door did the trick. It opened revealing his friend— a rush of relief, followed by a chaser of guilt, rooting him to the spot.

“Buck?” Steve’s jaw clenched, his spine snapping straight. Shoulders back— head reared. Readying himself for the fight that had been looming over his head all afternoon. The one he just knew Bucky was coming back to finish.

And Bucky Barnes didn’t finish a fight with strong words. He finished with his fists.

Bucky shifted his weight, his hand coming up. Palm resting against the back of his neck, a frown on his lips. Bashful blush rising to his cheeks.

“Hey… I just wanted to… I’m sorry about earlier. I’ve been acting bitchy and just all around terrible whenever you visit.” He acknowledged. Steve’s brows raised, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe, steady gaze on his friend. “I don’t want to, not really but I do it anyways. S’not much of an apology, I know… I’m just, I’m sorry.”

Steve sighed, nodding even though Bucky didn’t look up.

“It’s okay. You were always a little temperamental but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” Steve assured him, arms coming up to cross over his chest. When the brunette didn’t respond, Steve continued. “Buck, hey, I understand. Maybe not fully but I understand enough. I just want you to be happy and safe.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. That feeling still hadn’t disappeared. Probably wouldn’t. He would carry it along for a while until something worse happened, then he would restart the cycle.

He just wanted to escape the torment of guilt and the anger. He didn’t want to be angry anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, vocal chords raw. Voice hollow and hoarse.

“Don’t.” Steve replied, dismissing the statement. He studied the slightly bowed head of his friend, the obviously torn soul he was attempting to mend. Steve took a step back into his room, head cocking to the side. “You wanna start this visit over or just call it a night?”

Bucky glanced toward the room, then took a decisive step over the threshold. Steve hummed under his breath, a pleased noise at his friend making new progress.

“I Wanna tell you about… someone.” Bucky blurted out, hopeful eyes turned to Steve. Surprise written over his features. “But no questions. I wanna tell somebody and who better than my best friend?”

“What I’m hearing is that I’m just option one?” Steve questioned in response to the stipulations the man had quickly laid into place. Bucky huffed, a harsh glare sent as an answer. “I’m joking. Tell me everything you want me to know.”

“Her name’s YN.”

Left. Right.

Check both ways before crossing.

Left. Right.

An old, worn out cadence that had become too engrained in his mind.

Left. Right.

Two turns. Down one street. Up another.

Left? Right?

How to choose? Which to use?

He gazed down at the mismatched palms before him. Flesh calloused and scarred. Metal giving a matte shined finish from midday sun.

It shouldn’t even be a decision. He should’ve been able to perform a simple task without overthinking it. But everytime he came to a crossroads, he found himself spiraling down a rabbit hole of dangerous excitement. Of hope.

Fact of the matter was, Bucky couldn’t help to get lost in the flashy lights of the future. Because now, he could see it. He was aware of time passing, of choices, of mundane tasks… of a maroon colored door standing tall before him.

And his hands held out flat.

Left.

Right.

Choices. Choices.

With a shaky exhale, Bucky tore his eyes away from his hands. Swallowing hard in anticipation as he steeled his nerves. Reaching up with his left, the metallic knuckles rapped a steady succession of taps.

Knock, knock, knock.

His heartbeat was too loud. He could hear it, along with the blood rushing to his head, through his ears. Waiting. Waiting.

Quiet…

Left, right, left.

Pattering feet across the floor of the house. Enhanced ears picking up on even the creak of an old, possibly warped floorboard.

A breathy hum, quiet undercurrent of noise.

Locks being thrown as he straightened, throwing his shoulders back. Chin high. A smile already pulling at his lips.

The red door swung open, a rush of scents bombarding his senses almost immediately.

Fresh flowers. A candle— sandlewood— burning somewhere. The soft acoustics of acidic lemon scented cleaning liquid. The smell of her perfume. Of her shampoo.

Of her.

A bright smile befell her, teeth flashing in a blinding smile as she recognized who stood on her welcome mat.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” She commented blithely, smile lines crinkling around her eyes.

Bucky hummed, unable to find words. Relishing in the feeling of her. Reluctant to shatter the easy air that had been established. Reluctant to break his grin no matter what.

With a light, giddy giggle, she backed away, eagerly waving him across the threshold. Bucky glanced down.

Left.

Right.

Fuck it.

He looked back up to meet her eyes, shining brightly. His feet moved.

And he didn’t give a damn which moved first.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky x female reader #james barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

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Hey y’all, here’s chapter 3 of my “Playlist” series (formerly untitled T’Challa fic). Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Make sure you read chapter two HERE first and check out my Masterlist. Word Count: 5916

CW: smut

“Let's go somewhere I don't have to work so hard to keep us from drowning, eh?”

“Where do you have in mind?” Ashanti asked him while peppering his jawline with kisses.

Ashanti’s mouth hung open as the lights came on around her. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing in the King of Wakanda’s royal quarters, and on their first date at that. His hands grabbed her waist and brought her from her stupor. He pulled her back into him and nuzzled into the crook of her neck before lightly kissing up to her ear.

“T’Challa, stop, it tickles,” she barely got out between giggles. His hands snaked around and gripped her fleshy stomach, tickling her more. “You put too much wine in me to be tickling me like this.”

T’Challa chuckled and let her out his grasp before pointing to a door on the far wall.

“Bathroom’s through there,” he kissed her cheek, then shook his head as he watched her ass shake while she walked away.

“Damn.”

Ashanti knew he was watching and sneakily smiled to herself before her expression dropped at the sight before her. She thought the king’s bedroom was nice, but it was nothing compared to the dream jungle spa bathroom she walked into. Tropical plants were scattered around the floor-to-ceiling bamboo room, all under a pyramid glass ceiling. The sunken jacuzzi in the middle of the room was obviously the main attraction, but her eyes were drawn to the rain shower and she forgot why she was even there.

She caught sight of a vanity and went over to set her purse down, checking out her reflection in the mirror.

“Thank Bast I kept the makeup simple.”

Meanwhile, T’Challa poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. He was fine until she went to the bathroom, but her absence smacked him back to his senses. He brought this woman he barely knows into the palace. Into his quarters. It wasn't an issue of security, he had already thoroughly vetted her, but his willingness to have her in his space shocked him. He never brought women back to the palace, not since Ramonda caught him sneaking two very tired-looking young ladies out one morning when he was home from college. Normally he would go to their place instead, enjoying the freedom to cut their time together short and leave whenever he wanted. But no, this time he brought his date home, and it baffled him.

The alcohol was doing absolutely nothing for him so he decided to roll up instead. He broke down the Snow Goddess OG and filled up his hemp wraps before licking it and rolling it tight. Right as he lit it, his ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, which he could barely hear over the music he had started up.

Don't talk

Just listen

First of all

I have to be honest with you baby

I lied

When I told you I never wanted to see you again

Can you please stay

Just for tonight

And maybe we can do something

Like make love

Watch the sunrise

Or listen to jojo, k-ci, sing us a verse

Slide closer baby

Ha, that devante baby

Oh you feel so sexy, so good

“Come join me on the patio” he shouted to her from outside.

When Ashanti stepped out the patio doors she was shocked once more.

“This view is...,” she gasped, trying but failing to find the words. She could see all of Birnin Zana and even some of the Mining and River provinces, and of course the Jabari mountains in the distance. A tear came to her eye as she looked out over her beautiful home. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she felt T’Challa come up behind her. He leaned on the railing next to her, holding his expertly-rolled blunt.

“You should see it at sunrise and sunset, the most beautiful view in the world.”

“Is that an invitation, your highness?”

He playfully rolled his eyes at her platitude and lifted the blunt, offering it to her. She placed it between her lips and he lit the tip for her. She took a couple hits before passing it back to him.

“So you’re a chef and a stoner. What else don’t I know about you?”

T’Challa laughed and gave it some thought.

“Lets see...I’m an excellent dancer, my love language is touch, I strongly dislike musicals, I’m sure you can guess my favorite color-”

“It's yellow, right?” She said sarcastically, making him laugh more and cough a little from the smoke.

“You are so observant. You know, I like that about you.”

The two fell out laughing, and Ashanti was the first to regain composure.

“Wait what do you mean you hate musicals?”

“Just the serious ones. Drama and random singing don’t go together well in my book.”

He passed the blunt back to her and she took a long drag before letting the smoke migrate up to her nose. When she exhaled the smoke she caught him staring at her, and averted her eyes.

“There’s no reason to be shy, I only bite when you want me to.”

She felt a throbbing in her panties again, just like earlier at the lake. She knew why she came here, but now that she was in his room at the palace it seemed all that confidence from earlier at the lake had left her.

“Lets just enjoy each other’s company, no pressure. Would you like something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“...everything.”

“Oh right, it’s the palace, duh,” she chuckled nervously. “Mango juice?”

“Coming right up. Care to join me? I can give you a quick tour.” T’Challa said before he could catch himself.

“What the fuck am I doing?”, he thought to himself. Here he was, inviting this woman into his inner sanctum after one date and offering her a grand tour of the palace. The logical side of him knew it was too soon, but the emotional side of him couldn’t care less. He wanted this woman in his life. He wasn’t the only one surprised by his willingness to let her into his world.

“Do you do this for all your suitors?” she asked playfully as he opened the door for her and led her down the hallway to the same elevator bank they arrived in.

“No, actually. I do not,” T’Challa responded, prompting Ashanti to blush at his words and change the subject.

“So you have the whole floor?” They stepped in the elevator and went down several stories. “What about everyone else?”

“They have their own floors as well,” he leaned into her ear. “Mine’s just on top.”

They exited the elevator and once again Ashanti was floored by the sight in front of her. Not of the kitchen, but of the rest of the royal family in the living area.

T’Challa hadn’t expected anybody to be awake at this hour or he wouldn’t have suggested she come with him. Three sets of eyes turned and stared at the two of them, jaws dropped.

“Oooh someone’s in trouble,” Shuri said as N’Jadaka snickered.

“H-hello usapho,” T’Challa stuttered, making his sister and cousin laugh even more before Ramonda shot them a look to shut them up.

“T’Challa, your friend looks to be on the verge of a heart attack. Are you alright dear?” Ramonda asked.

“Y-yes Queen m-mother, your highness, um- ma’am” Ashanti quickly corrected her mistake and saluted the royals.

“There is no need for that. Come join us, we just started an American drama N’Jadaka suggested called- oh what is it again Daka?”

“Love Jones, auntie,” he said with the frustration of someone who had clearly answered the question more than once.

“Yes, that is it. There is space for you both over on the couch. Shuri, come join me over he-” she motioned for Ashanti to come join her on the couch and as she took a step forward, a strong arm lightly tugged her back.

“Mama, that is not necessary, we just came down to grab something to drink.”

“And you can still do that,” the Queen Mother snapped at her son. “Young lady what is your name?”

“Ashanti Mostafa, ma’am.”

“The jewelry artist?!” Ramonda said excitedly while Shuri tore her eyes away from the screen.

“I must say, your work is beautiful, dear. That necklace is one of my favorite gifts unyana wam ever gave me, your talent is astounding.” Ramonda showered Ashanti with praise and she almost couldn’t take it.

“I wore it yesterday and had several people asked about it, so you might be getting a few more customers soon!” Shuri chimed in.

“Wow, I-...thank you so much.” Ashanti wandered over to the couch and sat down, much to T’Challa’s dismay. He joined her, sliding his arm around the back of the couch.

“So, how was the date?” N’Jadaka pushed.

“Can you mind your business, please?” T’Challa said and shot him a glare, while Ashanti chuckled.

“Must have been good since you brought her back here,” Shuri whispered, leading Ramonda to pinch her arm.

“So what is the movie about?” Ashanti asked the prince, trying to change the subject. He caught on to her game, but let her off the hook for now.

“Love Jones, it’s a Black American classic. A romantic drama,” N’Jadaka wiggled his eyebrows at his cousin and winked at his date. Ashanti blushed and looked back to T’Challa who was leering at the cheeky prince. She placed her hand on his thigh and he looked at her, removing the scowl from his face. They shared a smile as the other royals tried not to notice the cute moment.

Ashanti and the royals watched the movie in relative silence with T’Challa’s arm steadily sinking lower and lower until it finally rested around her shoulders. Ashanti leaned into his side, and his free hand found hers and intertwined their fingers. Halfway through the movie, Ashanti was lightly snoring on the king’s shoulder, and Shuri and N’Jadaka were out, too.

“I like her,” Ramonda whispered across the room to her son, half sleep herself.

“I do too,” he whispered back before kissing her forehead.

“I can see that. Well I don't want to fall asleep out here like you young folks, so I will see you all in the morning.”

“Good night umama.”

“Good night, son. You be good to that one,” she lightly scolded her son as she woke up her daughter and nephew to usher them out the room.

“Yes ma’am.”

T’Challa spent the rest of the movie panicking about what to do next. Should he stay still and let her sleep uncomfortably on the couch, should he wake her up to go home, or should he carry her up to his bed like he had wanted to do all night and let her sleep there? He didn’t want to seem too forward and he wasn’t sure about how she would feel waking up in his bed, but he knew waking her from her sleep wasn’t an option. Just as the credits finished rolling and he had decided to stay in that position for as long as she did, Ashanti started to stir.

“What’d I miss?��

He loved how her voice sounded after just waking up, the raspiness tickling his ears. She untangled herself from him and stretched her arms wide.

“The rest of the movie,” T’Challa gestured to the screen and smirked at her.

“That was so rude of me in front of your family, I am so sor-”

“Ashanti, it's no big deal. Umama and I were the only ones who didn't pass out and she went to bed halfway through.”

Ashanti nodded and let out a yawn. Thankful for her lack of morning breath, she leaned in to lightly kiss his lips.

“Mm, what was that for?”

“For being so comfortable to sleep on. I mean, damn.”

The two started laughing before the king looked the artist right in the eyes and pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss. Ashanti’s hand trailed up from around his abdomen to cup his cheek and his hand came up to grip her thigh while his other arm pulled her into him. She was wrapping her leg around him when a cough interrupted them. T’Challa pulled away from the kiss, turning instead to glare at the third person in the room. Ashanti hid in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to be caught by whoever.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I came for my shoes. Auntie got us out of here so fast earlier I forgot to grab em.”

N’Jadaka quickly walked around the couch, found his shoes, and dipped. When he left, Ashanti lifted her head then her whole body from his lap. He looked like a sad puppy when she left his embrace, missing her warmth immediately.

“It’s late, I should g-”

“Stay, please. It is late and I have a whole ‘king size’ bed you can have to yourself.” T’Challa almost begged her. She pulled him up and off the couch, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his jaw. She could hear the song they were listening to before they left his quarters playing in her head.

Sorry I left you

Left you cryin

But since you've been gone

I've been all alone

'Cause all of my tears

You know they left me drownin

Please baby I'm beggin

For you to stay at home

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can be more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

“You don't have to give up your bed, that I’m sure is the most comfortable thing in all of Wakanda. ‘I only bite when you want me to’,” Ashanti teased, throwing his own words back at him.

“So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay. I’m too tired to go anywhere anyways, I can barely- T’Challa!” she squealed as he picked her up bridal style. She clung to his neck and laid her head on his chest, too tired to fight him on it. She nuzzled into his neck as they rode the elevator back up to the top floor.

She was so tired she almost fell asleep again on the ride up, but the automated voice letting them know they had arrived woke her from her half-slumber.

“This man is just too damn comfortable,” she thought to herself. “He smells good, he’s warm...”

Just as she was sinking back into her relaxed state he placed her down at the foot of the bed.

“All I have for you to sleep in are my clothes, if that’s alright with you.”

“It is.” she smiled wide then started to take off her jewelry.

The king watched her from above in his standing position and stopped her from reaching for her shoe buckle.

“Here, let me,” he said softly before sinking down to one knee and pulling her foot into his lap. He unbuckled her sandal and pulled it off before kissing her ankle, and he did the same on the other side. Her eyes hung low with lust and fatigue, but she was laser-focused on him, trying to figure out how he knew that was her spot.

“Um, T’Ch-Challa?”

“Hm?”

“We should, um-”

“Yes, I’ll be back,” he cleared his throat and stood before turning and disappearing into what Ashanti assumed was his closet when he emerged with an Oxford t-shirt. “I already had the staff bring you a toothbrush and toothpaste, a silk scarf, black soap, and shea butter for your beauty and hygeine needs. They’re, uh, on the sink in the bathroom there.”

“Thank you, T’Challa,” she said with a soft voice.

“Don’t say my name like that if you want to sleep tonight. You’ve been warned.”

She jumped up from the bed and scurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. After she came out, he went in, taking a much quicker shower and emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel while Ashanti slid on her nightgown for the night. She didn't notice him at first, but he noticed her thick brown legs peeking out from his old college t-shirt and his towel jumped. By the time Ashanti realized he was even in the room, he had turned to go to his closet to pick out something to wear to bed. The king usually slept naked, but he had a couple of sleepwear options just in case. He slid on a pair of black silk pajama pants and padded back out to the bedroom.

Ashanti was climbing under the covers on his side of the bed, so he scooped her up and placed her gently on the left. He pulled back the covers for her and she slid under, then he climbed in bed on top of her and kissed her forehead before rolling off her to the other side of the bed. She couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

“Goodnight Ashanti.”

“Goodnight T’Challa,” she lightly pecked his lips then snuggled down into the covers. She was right about it being the most comfortable bed in the world, and she fell asleep almost instantly. T’Challa stayed up a short while watching her sleep before exhaustion overtook him as well.

Throughout the night Ashanti kept moving closer and closer to T’Challa until she ended up wrapped around him. Her leg was thrown over his side and his arm had come down to hold it in place while his other arm tucked around her midsection. When she eventually tried to roll away, his arms wouldn’t let go, but instead he rolled with her, spooning her from behind.

They spent the rest of the night connected, both physically and mentally, each dreaming of the other.

When morning came, T’Challa was the first to arise, in more ways than one. His dream had been salacious and his morning wood was something fierce. He tried his best to move his pelvis away from Ashanti, but she would move with him searching for his warmth. He eventually gave up and tried to focus on anything other than his erection, landing on her braids that were tied back yet still somehow sprawled out everywhere.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he mumbled, the rumble in his chest waking her from her resting state. Her hand came up and caressed the arm that held her tight around her midsection, intertwining their fingers and turning around to face him, placing his arm back around her.

“Good morning beautiful,” he said grinning from ear to ear. Ashanti nearly melted at his husky morning voice. She wanted to hear it more often.

“Good morning your highness,” she giggled as he growled and tickled her sides.

“What did I tell you about that?”

“N-nothing, my warning was about your name!” she got out between laughs. In all her struggling to get out of his grasp she somehow wiggle her way back on her other side to escape the bed, only to be pulled back into the grasp of the Black Panther. When he pulled her into him he had forgotten about his situation, but she quickly became aware of his hard dick.

“I am sorry-”

“Don’t be,” she said as she grinded her hips into his, his dick resting comfortably between her cheeks.

“Mmm, Ashanti you’re playing with fire.”

She turned back to look at him as her hips moved round and round.

“Burn me, then.” She reached out to pull his face into hers but he resisted.

“Do you have to work today?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then not today. I want to take my time with you, plus you’ll need more than a couple hours to walk again.”

His threat did nothing but rev her up more.

“It is good to know you like morning sex, though. I’ll keep that in mind,” he teased.

Ashanti rolled towards the edge of the bed and threw her legs over the side. He looked at her with concern, but when she looked back all he saw was lust.

“I can’t lay next to you then, it’s too tempting.”

“‘It’ as in…?” T’Challa pointed down his body.

“Yes! I saw that monster at the lake, keep it away from me unless you plan on doing something with it.”

T’Challa chuckled.

“I can respect that,” he got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it, tentatively, and followed him out to the patio. He pointed to her left at the rising sun and her mouth fell open when she turned around and took in the sight before her. The sunrise over Wakanda was even more beautiful from this height. She leaned into his shoulder and he kissed her forehead. The two of them stood like that for at least 15 minutes, just enjoying each other’s company.

_________________

Ashanti knew her roommates would give her shit for coming home at this hour wearing the same clothes she left in, but what she didn't expect was a damn welcome party.

“Oh my Bast, there she is. Tell us everything!” Binta screamed as Kwame rounded the table to attack her with a hug. He pulled back and took in her appearance.

“Why do you look so well-rested? You're supposed to be crawling right now,” he said, checking for bags under her eyes. “You're too put together. Spill!”

“Ok ok, damn. Can I get comfortable first before I tell you the story? Can I do that?”

“She’s too feisty, she didn't get any,” Binta whispered to her twin brother.

Ashanti shot them both a deadly glare on her way up the stairs to go change.

She made it to her room and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That comfortable bed and that comfortable man really had her looking more rested than she had in months. She quickly changed into sweats and a tank top before heading back downstairs to face her roommates.

She jogged down the steps, remembering she missed her morning run, and found them still in the kitchen digging into breakfast. She watched as they piled their plates high, and sat down while they enjoyed their breakfast.

“Ok girl, so tell us about the date and why you didn't come home until 8am.”

“So…,” she started as the twins leaned in. “The date was a picnic at some private lake. It was beautiful, and he cooked u-”

“The king can cook?!” Binta gasped.

“That's what I said! But yeah girl, he cooked us a whole caribbean meal because he knows how much I love the Lost Tribe and their cultures- by the way, have you heard of Jodeci? Anyways, we can come back to that. So we’re talking and flirting and we combined our favorite songs into one playlist, and vibed out talking about the music...then we went for a swim-”

“A swim? You got naked in front of the king?” Kwame asked, staring at her with accusatory eyes.

“More importantly, did he get naked? Tell me about the strength of the Black Panther, honey.”

“Chiiiiiiile, that man was carved by Bast, straight out of Mount Bashenga itself.”

Kwame and Binta swooned, he was the first to get it together and get back to the conversation at hand.

“Alright, so what happened next? You fuck by the lake?”

“No we made out in the lake...then went back to the palace-”

“The palace?!”

“The palace?!” the twins said in total shock from the new bit of information.

“The palace, friends...and I ended up meeting the royal family on accident,” Ashanti watched her roommates’ eyes widen with every word, worried they’d pop out of their heads in a minute. “The Queen Mother and Princess Shuri complimented my designs, and we all fell asleep in the living room watching a Black American romance movie called ‘Love Jones’. Then when I woke up he asked me to stay…”

“Ok and you obviously did, so how many times did you get that back blown out?”

Ashanti chuckled at their impending let-down.

“Zero.”

“You expect us to believe- so you just slept there?”

“Mhm, in his bed...with him...all cuddled up. Then this morning we watched the sunrise over Wakanda and he made me breakfast. Woo, I almost fainted watching that man in the kitchen.”

They could catch flies, their mouths were open so wide.

“So let me get this straight...you had a romantic date with the king, made out naked in a private lake, he took you back to the palace to meet his fami-” Binta began.

“No, that was an accident. Carry on.”

“Ok whatever, so you run into his family, hang out with them, and then stay the night, had a romantic morning after, and at no time did you two get it in?! I don’t have your self control because, baby, I would’ve fucked that man in that lake.”

“I almost did, but my nerves kept getting in the way…”

“Oh honey, that’s ok. When’s the next date?” Kwame asked her.

A slow smile crept up Ashanti’s face and her eyes glazed over thinking about seeing T’Challa again.

“He has to go out of the country for the next week or so, but whenever he gets back I invited him over for me to return the favor and cook for him. You two need to make yourself scarce though.”

“That’s fine with me, I started seeing this hot mining tribe guy. Girl, he’s so strong from all that hard labor...woo,” Kwame fanned himself.

“And I have an open invitation to stay with Kiki, so I’ll go catch up with her while you catch that Black Panther dick.”

“Thanks,” Ashanti giggled out. Her friends were always so supportive of her, especially when dick was involved. They had been trying to get her back in the dating world for the last two years, but she had been so wrapped up in work that she barely had time for anything or anyone else. Her last relationship was short-lived and ended because her shop always came first. He was a good guy, but the sex was just alright. Before him was a manipulative piece of shit she stayed with for 3 years because she thought it was love, who cared more about his release than hers. Every man she’s ever dated left her either heartbroken or orgasm-less, and for years she wanted nothing more than to feel what she’s feeling for the king. Her friends knew she hadn't really had a proper dick-down and had made it their personal missions to get the cobwebs knocked off her pussy. The Black Panther seemed like the perfect candidate.

“So, wow...the king?” Binta was still processing the information.

“You had to kiss a lot of frogs, but look at you now!” Kwame chimed in.

__________

When Ashanti got to her shop, she was met with the sight of an enormous bouquet on her stoop. She immediately knew who it was from, and one look across the street at her parents outside their restaurant told her that they knew too.

“It was dropped off about an hour ago.” Chidi said loudly as he crossed the street towards his daughter to get a look at the flowers. It was a large bouquet of violets, her favorite.

“They’re beautiful,” Ashanti said with a goofy smile on her face. “Help me move this inside before they draw any more attention?” She and her dad brought the violets in and set them on her counter by the register. She stood back to admire them once more.

“So I take it the date went well?” Bisa asked her daughter, causing Chidi to roll his eyes and exit the shop while blowing his daughter a kiss.

“Mama, it was amazing! We already planned a second date for when he gets back in town.” Ashanti was giddy like a schoolgirl having her first crush as she told her mother the PG version of her date.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, baby!” Bisa pulled her in fora hug and kissed her forehead. “He sounds like a good man.”

“That he is.”

The two spoke for a little while longer before saying a quick goodbye and parting to tend to their respective businesses. When Ashanti was alone she let out a loud sigh, staring at the beautiful flowers from her suitor. She picked up the card and read his note.

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.

See you soon,

She held the note close to her chest and rocked on her heels, letting the feeling of a crush overcome her. She reached down and tweaked her beads, causing their playlist to pull up and shuffle. Of course this was one of those times when the shuffle feature seemed to read her mind, and what she referred to as ‘their song’ from here on out began to play. She swayed along, remembering the feel of his hands on her body. His warm, large, strong hands...

So here we are

Just me and you

We're thinkin of the things

That we used to do babe

Tonight is yours, lady

Yours and mine

Let's try again to put our trust on the line, yeah

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

Throughout the day her mind flashed back to the night before, missing the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, and those deep dark eyes that became black holes when he was all worked up.

It was a busy day at the shop. A group of kids had come in for a pottery class in the back, and her jewelry was flying off the shelves. The art supply customers weren’t in short supply either, and she thought about finally hiring some help. Just as she finished dealing with a rush of customers and closed up the shop for her lunch break, her kimoyo beads dinged. She took a look and smiled at the name.

T: I miss you already.

She couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

A: I miss you too. How are the Avengers?

T: A pain, as usual. All they do is argue with each other, I could get most of this done by myself. How was the shop today?

A: The busiest I think it’s ever been! I’m pretty sure I have your sister to thank for that. I’ll have to hire employees if it continues on like this.

T: I can’t believe you’ve been doing all of that by yourself. Oh by the way did you get my gift?

She looked over at the violets on the counter and bit her lip.

A: I did! How did you know violets were my favorite?

T: I just took a wild guess.

A: Good guess…

T: I feel like I know you so well already after just the one date, tell me something I don't know about you.

A: I’ve never broken a bone before.

T: Really? I’ve broken bones more times than I can count. Thankfully with the heart shaped herb in my system, I can recover fairly quickly.

A: What was your most embarrassing moment?

The bubbles disappeared for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was thinking on it or if he had to go, but then they reappeared.

T: My sophomore year of college, I was home for winter break and my umama caught me sneaking two ladies out of the palace. She looked so disappointed in all three of us, and I felt like an antelope in headlights. Until last night that was the last time I brought anyone home, by the way.

A: Two, huh?

T: That’s what you got out of the story?

A: uh, yeah, duh.

The two went back and forth for the rest of the day before choosing to video chat that night. They laid up all night talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. There were long stretches of silence when one or the other focused on another task, but neither could bring themself to end the call. It wasn’t until Ashanti fell asleep that he even thought about hanging up, but he let the chat continue for a few more minutes while he watched her sleep peacefully.

Two weeks passed by with the king and the artist regularly texting and video chatting from across the world. They were both anxious to be back in the other’s arms, and couldn't wait for his mission with the Avengers to come to a close. It finally did, over a week past it’s supposed end date. When T’Challa broke the news to Ashanti, her face lit up like a fire. He was set to come back Tuesday night, so they planned their date for Wednesday over yet another kimoyo chat.

“So what are you making me?” T’Challa asked her in jest.

In all honesty, she hadn’t thought very much about the menu.

“It’s a surprise, mister.”

“Mister? There are so many better names you could call me-”

Sir? Daddy? Kumkani? Her mind raced through the possibilities, enjoying each one. In their kimoyo dates they both had a habit of getting frisky. Sometimes one or both of them would be naked or in some state of undress, and sometimes things escalated from simply hot to downright pornographic. Ashanti learned that the king was a dominant man with a filthy mouth who loves to watch her put on a show, with him as director of course. By day three he had Ashanti topless, sucking on her own nipples, and today she had her fingers deep in her pussy all up in the camera for him to see every drop. She wasn’t the only one on display, he had his vibranium-hard dick out in his hand, stroking from his balls to the tip of his dick, pulling back his foreskin on the way back down. When he came, she stared at the milky substance dripping over his fist and stuck out her tongue, wishing she could taste him,

“You know, if you were here I’d expect you to clean this mess up. Right, kitten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh-uh, not sir. You know who I am, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes Kumkani.”

A wicked smile crossed his face and he chuckled lowly.

“Good girl. Are you tired already?”

“Baby I just drained myself on camera, be happy I can talk.”

“Mm, I like ‘baby’ too.”

Ashanti giggled at his one track mind, “Challa, let me get some sleep.”

“Alright, sithandwa. Sweet dreams,” he sighed then blew her a kiss. She blew one right back before cutting off the feed and laying her head down to rest, their song playing in her head.

Forget about yesterday

'Cause I want you so bad

Make love to me like you never had

My love

Is coming down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa x oc #t'challa #black!oc

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Agent or Princess

Chapter 3: No Regret

Summary: After capturing Klaue, Reader and Everett fight with T'Challa over who gets to take custody.

“I can see you! I can! I can see all of you!” Giggled Klaue as he leered towards the two-way mirror. Well, the best he could considering he was duct taped to the chair. He had his prosthetic arm taken away after he fled from the casino and there hadn’t been a way to cuff him to the chair.

You stood on the other side of the mirror next to Everett, T'Challa, and his bodyguard, Okoye. At least, that’s what you had told Everett she was. But your knowledge of Wakanda told you it was more complex than that. Nakia, the woman you had fought with in the casino, was waiting in the front room of the station.

Shortly after arriving at the Korean police department, you and Everett changed into a set of street clothes you kept in the van for times such as this. You kept the ring your father gave you hung around your neck and under your shirt. Looking over Klaue’s prosthetic arm while Everett talked to T'Challa, you could see that it doubled as a weapon and you knew exactly where he had gotten it from. Part of you still loved your father - Bast rest his soul - but part of you was still very angry at him for betraying his country.

Everett and T'Challa were still arguing quietly over who would get custody of Klaue once this was all done. While you understood that technically the CIA had dibs, T'Challa had every right to want to get justice for his people. By the time Klaue had switched to singing some song from the 80s, it was established that Everett would go in first and then the king. You barely caught T'Challa patting Everett on the back, sticking something to his shoulder. Glancing at the king, you could see that he hadn’t noticed you watching and was too busy talking to Okoye.

Okoye looked back at you and whispered to T'Challa in Xhosa, “what do you think of his partner?”

He spared a glance back at you and flashed a smile. “She is very smart and a good agent. I remember her well from Germany.”

“Is it me, or does she look a little familiar?”

Years of being a marine and a CIA agent taught you to keep your face straight when people didn’t know you spoke their language. But you felt the rising panic in your stomach. Could they know the truth, just by looking at you? You had always felt you looked more like your mother and your twin had taken after your father. But there was always room for doubt.

T'Challa glanced back at you again. “She does, indeed. Almost a little bit like Shuri.”

Panic rose higher inside you and luckily broken with Everett stepping out of the interrogation room. But only for a moment before he began to question the Wakandans.

“Ev- er, Agent Ross. Is this really important right now? How much vibranium his country may or may not have? We have a murder/arms dealer in custody, we need to stay focused.”

Everett looked at you with a mixture of respect and hurt. He was hoping you’d be on his side in this matter. But before he could reprimand you for technically speaking out to your boss in front of a king, Nakia burst in from the other room.

She held up her hands to show she was unarmed. “Something’s going on outside.”

An explosion rocked the interrogation room and you looked in the mirror in time to see a man with an African mask enter the room. As well as the automatic rifle in his hands. Before Everett could even form a warning, you shoved him hard on the chest knocking him to the ground. His eyes widen in shock as he watched you turn at lightning speed and tackle Nakia to the ground.

Unimaginable pain shot through your entire body. You had be hit by bullets before - occupational hazard of being in the military - but this was on a different level. There was no doubt you wouldn’t survive this wound. Nakia looked at you in awe for saving her life, but you couldn’t help but also notice the fear in her eyes. You felt the back of your shirt being ripped open so your wound could be looked at better.

“____!” There was no mistaking the panic in Everett’s voice. “Stay with me! Can you hear me, ____?! Stay with me!”

You desperately wanted to answer him, but your body refused to cooperate. One eye flicked upward and you could see the unbridled fear and anguish in Everett’s face as he looked down at you.

Nakia looked over at T'Challa approaching with Okoye to examine the aftermath of the attack. “She just jumped right in front of me. I don’t think she’ll survive; it hit the spine.”

“No, no, no, no. Not her.” You barely heard Everett whisper above you. T'Challa looked at you and then at Everett before speaking to Nakia.

“Give me one of your kimoyo beads.” She handed it over without hesitation and he placed it in the wound on your back. “This will keep her stable.”

Everett watched as you let out a sigh and your eyes closed. He quickly reached for your neck and was slightly calmed by the steady beat of your pulse. “Wh-what did that do?”

T'Challa struggled with how to explain to Ross the level of advance technology his people possessed. Instead, he addressed your situation. “Give her to us. We can save her.”

“You can?!” Everett looked at him like T'Challa just told him he had a magical elf in his pocket. “How? It hit her spine.”

“My king,” Okoye began in Xhosa, “we cannot take her! The CIA-”

“I cannot just let her die, Okoye.” He sighed and then spoke to Everett in English. “Do not worry. We have the means to save her.”

Everett didn’t even hesitate. “I’m coming, too.”

“I’m sorry but-”

“Listen, I don’t care about whatever half-ass excuse you’re about to give me. I need to go with her, to make sure she’s ok. It’s not up for debate.”

T'Challa took one look at the fire in Everett’s eyes and knew this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. And time was of the essence if they were going to save you. He quickly barked an order to the other two with him and in mere moments they had you on a stretcher and onto their jet. Everett looked around the jet in awe as he held your hand. The minimal contact between you two did not go unnoticed by T'Challa.

“You’ve clearly been hiding a lot from the rest of the world.” Everett stated as you all flew to Wakanda.

“It has been a tradition of our people to hide who we are since we first founded Wakanda. It was to protect our people and our way of live.”

Everett nodded his head. “I don’t agree with the decision but I can understand it. But just…. how advanced is your country?”

“You will see soon enough.” The king nodded towards your linked hands. “I promise, she will be just fine. I know just the person to save her.”

“She…” Everett cleared his throat and rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. “She’s one of my best agents, always my partner in covert missions. One of the few people I know I can trust with my life.”

“I’m sure she feels the same way. It’s clear that you two share a special bond. Nakia told me that right before ____ saved her, she had pushed you out of the way.”

Everett gave a tired smile. “Yeah, I’ll probably have a hand-sized bruise on my chest for the next few days.”

T'Challa chuckled and excused himself to speak with Nakia and Okoye. The two women were arguing quietly with each other but stopped the moment their king walked up. “I know you are having doubts about us bringing the two agents-”

Okoye interrupted him. “I could understand _____. She saved Nakia’s life. But why the other one? We have no guarantee either person will remain quiet about what they have seen!”

“There was no choice with Agent Ross. It is clear he is in love with ____, even if he has not admitted it to himself yet. I would not have been able to keep him away. And I understand how he feels. If it had been Nakia, I would have done everything in my power to stay with her until she was well.”

Both women glanced over to see Everett still holding your hand but was now bent over and whispering to you. Okoye frowned. “I still do not approve, but I can see what you mean. But we are still returning to Wakanda with two American CIA operatives and no Klaue. We have failed in our mission. And furthermore, where can we even take ____?”

T'Challa smiled at his friends. “Where else? But to Shuri.”

Chapter 4

#fanfic #fan fic #requests #request list #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #everett ross #everett ross x black!reader #black!reader #fem!reader #angst #agent or princess

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princeescaluswords · 5 years ago

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I made an observation the other day, while watching The Witcher with a friend. In this episode The Witcher ties up a bad guy as bait for a monster that the bad guy help create. The bad guy dies horribly and the Witcher helps redeem the monster.

And the person I’m talking to makes a remark that it was pretty ruthless of Geralt of Rivia to do that. Especially since the bad guy didn’t intend for what had happened to happen. They wondered if there were going to be any repercussions for Geralt’s action, whether in the show or in the fandom.

And, with little thought, I quipped. “Of course not. He’s a white guy.”

Because it’s true. It’s absolutely true. When saving the day, when beating the bad guys, the only thing that a white male hero has to worry about is saving the day and beating the bad guys. He may -- nay, he’s encouraged -- to make the villain’s comeuppance as unpleasant or as gruesome as possible. It’s considered dry if the villain simply gets sent to jail.

I’m not just talking about anti-heroes either. Anti-heroes are those heroes who profess to be acting without conventional heroic qualities, such as compassion or principle. I’m talking about heroes who are compassion and principles but still a little bit of an asshole.

It’s expected now that the white male hero is going to go through some rough times. He’s going to be under stress. He’s going to need to break a few rules. He is oftentimes going to need to defy legitimate authority. Defeating the bad guys is difficult work, so he has to focus on that, and if he has to snap at his sidekicks or make decisions over the needs of his allies, that is what he has to do.

The time of the Boy Scout superhero -- the ones who are always polite and never hurt anyone’s feelings -- died in the 1950s. For white male heroes, being polite is now an endearing quirk.

But if you’re not a white male, it’s a requirement.

Take Captain Marvel. There were people complaining that she used her greater strength to steal a snide, leering bystander’s motorcycle in order to get where she needed to go. If she were a white male, that would be ... normal behavior.

And there was even more upset when her archenemy, Yonn-Rog, challenged her to fight without powers and she blasted him away like the chump he was. There was an entire subset of fandom that despise the fact that she wasn’t chivalrous or kind.

Shuri in both the Black Panther and the Infinity War movies was criticized for being sassy, a trait that people love in white males, and that her claim for being the smartest person on Earth was somehow an injustice.

Even in my own fandom, the Latino hero Scott McCall is despised because in the course of defeating the bad guy in Season 2, he inconvenienced another antagonist for 30 seconds. He’s also despised for putting the Season 4 villain who tried to kill him into a mental institution with less than benign practices. I mean, he is literally hated for this.

I guarantee you that if Derek had put Peter into Eichen House, there would be tons of meta about how it was absolutely necessary.

You see, as much as things are changing, they’re not changing that much. Heroes that aren’t white and male have to not only save the day, but they have to justify their qualifications for saving the day, to be cautious with their methods while saving the day, and to answer for their temerity in saving the day.

#fandom racism #fandom problems #scott mccall defense squad #teen wolf #the witcher #captain marvel #shuri

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

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AU-gust Day 21: Professional Rivals

Requested by @justsomeoneunordinary for an Ironpanthers AU! This is a mess and I apologize for that but it just did not want to be written

Also on ao3 here

He’s still furious when he returns to his hotel room. Tony’s remarks had been out of line and deliberately designed to rile him up so he would what? Fuck him harder that night? Take it out on his ass? Well, the joke’s on Tony because if he shows up, T’Challa is just going to kick him out.

So of course, Tony is already in the room when he walks in. T’Challa glares at where he’s sitting at the table with two steaming plates in front of him. “Get out,” he snaps. The pleased smile on Tony’s face disappears.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.”

“Why would…?” he trails off, an understanding light dawning in his eyes. His tone turns mocking. “Did what I say get to you, Kitty Cat? All I was doing was pointing out the flaws in your business model.”

“I could point out the flaws in your own,” he retorts.

Tony snorts. “I don’t have any.”

“Don’t sound so innocent. I know you cut the price of the new phone so you could outsell ours but you know our camera and our battery life are better so instead you’re just going to lose money on this ridiculous little venture of yours. Stick to energy, Stark. It’s what you’re better at.”

That annoying little smile on Tony’s face has been completely replaced with a snarl. Good; T’Challa wants him as angry as he is. “At least I was kind enough to point out your flaws in private instead of humiliating your entire board in the middle of a presentation,” he continues.

He doesn’t see Tony backing down from this which is why he’s completely surprised when Tony clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I should have had better tact than to say something during the questions.” Tony’s anger has vanished, leaving behind exhaustion and deep shadows under his eyes that T’Challa has always wanted to wipe away with a good night’s sleep in his bed. “I was angry about Shuri’s last review on the new Intellicrops system and I took it out on you.”

“Last review?” He frowns, fishing out his phone. Shuri usually loves Tony’s products. It annoys him to no end, especially when she uses one of Stark Industries’ inventions instead of their own. He finds the review easily enough—it’s going viral—and his frown deepens. Shuri isn’t usually so harsh.

“Are they as bad as she says they are?” he asks.

Tony shakes his head and runs his hair through his hair. It was already artfully tousled but now it just looks messy. “Not even close. I’ve had my engineers running experiments and simulations around the clock and no one has gotten the results that she did. I can’t figure out what happened.”

T’Challa takes a closer look at the shadows under his eyes. They’re bad enough that he suspects Tony hasn’t slept more than two or three hours since the review came out.

“Tony, are you okay?” he asks hesitantly. Sometimes, Tony lashes out when he thinks his competency is being questioned and he doesn’t want to start another fight.

Tony barks out a sharp laugh. “Not even close,” he says wearily. “I need to get this solved. I’ve already got investors pulling out of the Intellicrops program because of what your sister said and I don’t. Know. What’s. Wrong. So it’s not like I can fix it and I have to because otherwise this program is going to fail and it can’t because then the board will insist I go back to what we were doing before and I can’t go back to making weapons, Kitty Cat, I can’t do it.”

Surreptitiously, T’Challa sends a text off to his sister to tell her to either start trying to figure out what happened or take down the review. It’s the least she can do after such scathing comments. He loves his sister, he really does, and he knows Tony likes her a lot but she has such a scientist’s heart: my science is better than yours and I’m going to prove it. He remembers the comment she once made about one of Panther Inc.’s top teams before she joined R&D, how she had suggested something that sounded simple but had escaped notice and when they’d told her that they hadn’t thought of it, she’d smiled and told them that she was sure they tried their best.

It wasn’t like she had been wrong but T’Challa hadn’t been surprised when his lead scientist had quit when it had been announced that Shuri was taking over R&D. Yes, he very much loves his sister but he can recognize that she can be condescending at times.

He gets a text back from her telling him that she had already started doing so the moment she posted the review and realized her hastiness. He smiles to himself; his sister may be condescending sometimes but she has a good heart and to him, that matters far more.

“Would it help if we looked into the matter with you?” he asks, sitting down across the table from Tony.

Tony frowns at him. “I don’t need your charity,” he points out.

He bites back the initial flare of anger. “It’s not charity. We hurt your reputation, I don’t see why we can’t be the ones to fix it.”

Tony peers at him for a long moment and then points at him with his fork and says, “You’ve already started working on it, haven’t you?”

Guilt as charged. He shrugs. “Shuri felt bad,” he simply says.

Tony sighs ruefully. “I’m never going to live this down if she solves it before I do.”

“Tony,” he says carefully. “It doesn’t need to be solved tonight.”

“Hmm,” Tony replies neutrally. But he doesn’t argue any further and when T’Challa pulls one of the plates toward him, Tony starts eating as well. It’s quiet for a long time before Tony eventually says, “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you.”

“I understand,” T’Challa says simply because it’s not alright that Tony did his very best to humiliate him but he can understand why it happened. Shuri works for his company; Tony could have very easily believed that T’Challa had endorsed her statement. He’s still a little mad with him—who wouldn’t be after the vitriolic things Tony said during the questions?—but he sees where the misunderstanding between the two of them had occurred. And, frankly, if Pepper had gone after PI’s communication beads the way Shuri had gone after the Intellicrops, he probably would have done the same thing to Tony that had been done to him.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tony insists. “I’ll retract it, do some PR work with you or something.”

“Tony,” he says quietly. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have, but I do forgive you. Or I eventually will.” He watches as Tony slumps back in his chair, relieved or tired, he isn’t certain. “Come, we’ll finish our dinner and then you are going to go to bed and sleep for eight hours.”

“And where will you be?” Tony asks, attempting a leer and manage a tired smirk instead.

“On the couch. I don’t want to share a bed with you at the moment; I’m still angry with you.”

Tony nods. “Yeah, that’s fair enough.”

And if early the next morning as the sun is rising over the city, T’Challa decides that the couch is cold and uncomfortable and he crawls into the bed, well, Tony doesn’t argue then either.

“I’m still mad at you,” T’Challa whispers into the back of his neck.

Tony nods sleepily. “Okay.”

#ironpanther #alle writes #august2020

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skylarstark4826 · 2 months ago

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Namor and Shuri (Nashuri) fic

After Shuri went to live in Haiti with Nakia and her newly discovered and known Toussaint she was practically with her new Black Panther skills but then suddenly she is surprised to meet Namor who had apparently gone to look for her to be able to talk to her but then it happens that Shuri in an attempt to get away from Namor she although accidentally for her good luck something that she did not know before about Namor

After Shuri will spare Namor's life and they made the alliance and Shuri went to live in Haiti with Nakia and her little nephew Toussaint they hadn't spent many days, so to speak, when Shuri had been surprised when she was visited by Namor and on one of those occasions she was doing some experiments because as Shuri had remembered that she had accidentally taken some of Namor's feathers with her to Haiti and how Shuri felt somewhat guilty because she had literally plucked him then she wanted to investigate them to To know if it was possible to go due to the fact that Namor was a mutant it was possible that thanks to it his feathers had the possibility of growing again on his own so that he could fly again without the need to use a prosthesis for it. Shuri was investigating them when she almost dropped the chemicals in her hands when she heard a super familiar voice behind her that caused chills and tremors to her.

Xxx: Shuri.

Shuri immediately turned only to see Namor standing behind her she immediately noticed that he was wearing the same clothes he had when he gave her her mother's bracelet during the time Shuri was in Talokan before she was rescued by Nakia.

Shuri: Namor? What are you doing here?

Before Shuri had the opportunity to try to move, she only knew that Namor was standing in front of her. Shuri did not take her eyes off his for a second, feeling afraid that he would then something bad would happen but then to her surprise Namor gently took her hand and the next thing Shuri knew was that he was no longer looking at her instead of that Namor was looking at her wrist at first Shuri was confused but then it was when she remembered that that day she had put on Namor's mother's bracelet.

Namor: You still have it.

Namor told her before she stared into her eyes again but this time Shuri didn't look at him she quickly took her eyes off his before she looked at her wrist and then using her other hand Shuri slid the knot and took off the bracelet before she took Namor's hand and gave it to him again.

Shuri: Yes, well... I really had no right to destroy or discard it because after all it was your mother's, not mine.

He told him before he turned around again to continue doing his experiments before he felt Namor's hand on his waist and felt his breath on his neck making the hair on the back of his neck bristle Shuri couldn't lie saying that he didn't feel anything for Namor during his time in Talokan Shuri had fallen in love with him but when Namor murdered his mother right in front of her Shuri had to destroy what she felt for him and prevent him from feeling it again.

Shuri: If you just came to see that then you can go I'm very busy right now Namor.

She told her while taking one of his feathers and watching it Shuri immediately felt how Namor had tightened behind her something that she knew was probably due to the fact that he had looked at her old feathers that she herself had torn off.

Namor: What exactly are you doing?

I asked him and immediately Shuri noticed how he had stood next to her looking at her work.

Shuri: I want to know what your feathers could make after being cut and if they could be used for weapons such as knives... or if it is possible that they can be regenerated and have the possibility of growing back without you having the need to use a prosthesis to replace them if you want to continue flying... she told her before she turned to look at him only so that Shuri would notice the way Namor was looking at her and then before she realized Namor was already by her side again.

Namor: You are as beautiful as the first day I saw you for the first time Shuri.

He told her while gently caressing Shuri's cheek, something that made her extremely nervous.

Shuri: Namor? What are you doing?

He told him before he accidentally dropped a lot of things from his desk including some of Namor's feathers while he watched as Namor leaned and then out of nowhere when Shuri was about to push him she only knew that out of nowhere Namor had screamed like a woman and had also screamed in a feminine way before she grabbed her foot and jumped back rubbing the area between the beginnings of her feathers where there was skin of course Shuri was confused by that and when she looked down she realized that there were some feathers lying on the floor but then she realized that where Namor was standing there was a feather and then Shuri's brain connected and that's when she had realized that Namor had screamed in an extremely feminine way and had screamed because one of the feathers had taken it there and that's when everything was clear to Shuri... Namor was tickling and that's why he had laughed because his feather had tickled him in that area of skin that he had where his feathers should be Shuri smiled when she saw what she had discovered about Namor and when she looked at him she saw the look of terror in her eyes clearly realizing what Shuri now knew about him.

Namor: Shuri, we can talk about that, you know, right? ...Seriously, please, we can talk about it... Listen to this, it's not necessary at all, please.

Immediately Namor tried to get away but because he could not fly the term accidentally slipping and falling directly to the floor and before he tried to get up Shuri quickly sat on his waist and because she had taken the grass from heart and now she had the strength of the black panther she was much stronger and managed to immobilize him by successfully putting her hands under her knees and thus preventing Namora from trying to push her to get her off him.

Namor: Shuri please you don't have to do it... I ask you.

He told him already desperate but before he could say anything else Shuri had moved so fast that Namor could not react in time and now she was sitting with her back to him so that she was sitting in the direction of his feet something that made him terribly nervous when he realized what Shuri was going to do next but before he could beg for anything Namor tensed up and strongly squeezed his lips to avoid screaming again and laughing hysterically when he immediately felt how Shuri caressed his heels along with his ankles and the soles of his feet in the area where his old feathers had brushed him both with his own fingers and with his old feathers.

Shuri: What's wrong Namor? Does it look like you have some problems to be able to talk? Or is it that you're actually too ticklish to even be able to talk? Tell me something, is this tickling you a lot?

I asked Shuri when he noticed the way Namor tried to contain her laughter so as not to laugh hysterically while she still tortured him on her feet Shuri moved Namor's toes up to start passing Namor's old feathers through the bottom of her toes and between them causing Namor to try to get out from under her much more often than before Shuri will start using her fingers to tickle Namor in her arches and ankles together With the middle area of your feet. Shuri could see that Namor could no longer stand it for longer so she began to increase the speed to see how much he could stand and finally it was when Namor could no longer stand it and laughed hysterically while trying to escape from below her.

Namor: SHURI CUT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHQHQHQHQHAHQHQHQHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQ PLEASE STOP IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHWHWHAHQHQHWHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQJQJQHQJQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHHQJQHHAAHAHAHHQHQQHHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHHAHH MY FEET CAN'T STAND HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA IT ANY LONGER I'M TOO TICKLISH JAJAJAJAJAJAJAHAHAJAHAJAJAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHQHQHQJQHQHAJAHAHAJAHAHAHAJAHAHAHGAGAHAGAGAGGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHSHAHHA PLEASE STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA I CAN'T CONTROL AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHSHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHHAHAAJHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAH IT MORE TIME HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHQHQHQHQHQHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHHAHA GIVE ME MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA PLEASE GIVE ME PITY HAGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAJAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Shuri: Wow Namor seriously you are very ticklish on your feet I wonder if the feathers will make it worse than the toes or if the result will be the same.

He told him while he stopped using his hands and again took Namor's feathers to see his reaction.

Namor: NO PLEASE! SHURI DON'T DO THIS I HAVE A LOT OF TICKLES THERE PLEASE I ASK YOU DON'T DO IT!

But Shuri Que already taking his feathers began to tickle him between his toes and also in the lower part of them as well as in his ankles and the soles of his feet and needless to say that Namor's reaction to feeling his own feathers against his feet was completely immediate.

Shuri: Tell me Namor, how does this feel? Is the feeling much better or is it much worse?

Namor: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHSHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHA TO RELAX THIS MAKES HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAA LOT OF TICKLISH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I CAN'T HOLD IT HAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAAHHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA FOR LONGER IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHHSHSHSHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHSHSHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA NOT ON MY FEET HAGAHAHQHAHAHAHAHQHWHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHAHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH IT'S TOO MUCH I ASK YOU HAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH PLEASE SHURI MERCY HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHJAHAHAJAJAJJ I HAVE TOO MANY TICKLING AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHHAJAJSJAHAJJAJAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAHAJAH.

Shuri: Wow well now I know for sure that feathers definitely tickle your feet more than your fingers Namor.

He told him before he paused and stopped tickling him to let him breathe for a brief moment before Namor fainted from the tickles or I ended up peeing in his green shorts with laughter... or were they actually underpants? But as it is, Shuri moved quickly to get back in front of Namor and thus be able to see their faces and then Shuri saw that Namor had his whole face completely red due to laughter and his eyes were completely full of tears of laughter while he breathed agitatedly and still laughed at the tickles before he began to calm down again.

Namor: Shuri please don't keep tickling me you already had fun now you can let me go.

He told her while trying to get out from under her but then it was to Namor's horror when he saw how Shuri's black panther suit suddenly appeared and he was more horrified when he saw her claws appear.

Shuri: I'm actually interested in knowing how sensitive and how ticklish you can become on the top of your torso Namor.

When Shuri said that she saw how Namor looked at her confused but also scared and also nervous apart from the fact that he held his breath and trembled especially when he saw how Shuri's black panther claws began to caress his entire torso going from the contour of his arms to where the line of his green shorts began. Namor did not stop holding back when Shuri began to caress his arms but became super nervous and hysterical when he saw her put his claws too close to under his arms and getting closer and closer to his armpits.

Shuri: What's up Namor? Are you very afraid that I'll tickle you here?

I asked Shuri when I saw her reaction when she put her hands on her armpits causing Namor to immediately scream and end up laughing hysterically while trying to free himself from her to get away from the tickles.

Namor: SHURI RELAX HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHSHSHSHAHSHAHSHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHQHQAH I'M TOO TICKLISH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH NOT IN MY ARMPITS HAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHHQQHQHAHAHAHAHAHHQHQHAHAHQHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHQAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT'S HORRIBLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHQHQHAHQHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHSHSHSHHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I'M TOO SENSITIVE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA THERE'S STOP.

Shuri: Wow Namor, you're really very ticklish in your armpits... I wonder what would happen if I also put feathers on you there... what will be your reaction.

Namor: No Shuri hahahahahahahaha por favor eso es demasiado hahahahahahahaha no podría aguantar más tiempo las cosquillas hahahahahahhahaha Shuri por favor te lo ruego hahahahahahahahahahahaha por favor vamos hahahahahahahahahajahahahajajayahhahqhqhqyqyqyyqyqyqhqhq déjame ir.

Namor told him scared by the idea of Shuri using his own feathers to tickle his armpits. He just can't even contain his laughter at the idea of feathers against his sensitive armpits but then to his horror it was when he saw the feathers and if that was not enough without being able to avoid it Namor screamed and ended up screaming and laughing like a girl... literally his laughter became totally feminine due to the hysteria he was experiencing at that precise moment.

Namor: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAYTAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY NO PLEASE HAHAHAHAYAYAHAHAYAYAHAYAYAYAYAYAYAYHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAYAYAYAYQYQYQYQYQ, IT'S ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE, HAHAHAHAHAYAHAHAHAYAHAHAHQHQHQHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAGQHQHQHQYQHQ SHURI STOP, HAHAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAYAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH I BEG YOU, HAHAHAHAHAYAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHJSHAHAHAHAHAHHAJAHHAHAHHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAUAUAUAUAUAUJBAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH IT'S TOO MUCH, JAHAJAHAYHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAUAJAJAJJAJA PLEASE, HAYAHAHAHAGAHAHHAHAYAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAYAYAYQYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYQYQYQYQYQYAYAHAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHQHQHQHWHHQHQHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH MERCY, HASTAHAHSHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQYQYHQHQHQHQHQHQHQYQYQYQYQYQYQYQYQYQYHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQYQHHAHAHAHAHAHAHQQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQYQHQY MERCY, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAJAJAHAHAHAHAHAJAHQJAJAJQHQJQJQJQJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAJAHAJQHAJQJAHAHAHAHAHAJAJWJAJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJJQJWJQJQHQHQH I BEG YOU.

Shuri was pleasantly surprised when he saw the surprising reaction that Namor had had when he was attacked by his own feathers making terrible tickles in his armpits but that did not prevent Shuri from making fun of Namor's poor for that and especially when he saw him in his weak and vulnerable state.

Shuri: Wow Namor and I thought you were horribly ticklish on your feet and in the wings areas when I tickled you both with my fingers and with your feathers but apparently I'm wrong that because you are also terribly ticklish in the armpits both with my fingers and with your old feathers... which makes me wonder in which other places on your body you will have many more tickling?

I asked her as she straightened up in a way that made Namor think that Shuri looked so beautiful and before she thought of tickling her again Namor hurried to be able to tell her the following only that as she was still being affected by the previous tickles some laughter mixed while Namor had started talking.

Namor: Shuri hahahahahahaha you don't have to hahahahahahahah keep tickling me hahahahahahahaah please hahaahahahahqhqh.

Shuri: And why shouldn't Namor after all I feel very interested in this discovery he made about you? I also really like to hear that adorable feminine laugh of yours that by the way sounded the same as that of a baby girl.

When Shuri mentioned that Namor's laughter was feminine and that it also sounded like that of a little girl immediately Namor turned super super red on his face when he heard what Shuri had said since even though Namor already knew that his laughter was something feminine the truth never thought about the little girl... but before Namor could say anything to Shuri he immediately began to laugh nervously and also with anticipation again when he felt her fingers gently caress his whole body using his nails at all times going from his armpits to his ribs everything else Namor saw how Shuri smiled shamelessly at him clearly wanting to see when it was his facial reaction to know where he should attack him next.

Shuri: Tell me something Namor. Had someone ever tickled your ribs?

I ask her and indeed Shuri smiled when she saw the way Namor's eyes were filled with panic and nervousness when she heard her ask him that.

Namor: Shuri seriously I'm sure we can talk about this you don't need to tickle me especially please.

Shuri: I wish it was something so easy Namor...

Namor: If it is, just don't tickle me, please.

Immediately Namor let out a female scream followed by a little girl's scream again when he suddenly felt how Shuri's fingers moved and began to tickle her ribs.

Namor: SHURI MERCY PLEASE AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHH I'M TOO TICKLISH THERE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAQHHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT'S HORRIBLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHJAQHQHAHAHAHHAAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAJAHAHJAJAHAJAJAJAJJAJAJHAJAJAJHAH IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAHAJAJAHAHAHAHJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJJ PLEASE ENOUGH HAHAHAHAHAHASHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH I CAN'T STAND HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA IT MUCH MORE AAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAJAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA I CAN'T STAND IT.

Shuri: Wow Namor I didn't think you could have a place as ticklish as your feet and your armpits but I was wrong because you are so ticklish there is like in your ribs.

He told him while he still tickles him there Namor shook frantically under Shuri he didn't know how much longer he was going to endure the tickling but he felt relieved when he saw Shuri stop Namor began to breathe taking as much oxygen as possible to stop feeling dizzy although it could also be because he needed to dive to be able to hold on too but then Namor saw how Shuri leaned until he was at the height of his face for a moment Namor thought that Shuri was going to kiss him to which he leaned to do it but instead of kissing Shuri on the lips Namor screamed laughing hysterically and that's when to his horror he realized that Shuri had begun to blow raspberries through his ribs at the same time that he also bit him lightly.

Namor: SHURI DON'T GIVE ME RASPBERRIES HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAAHHAAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE IT'S HORRIBLE STOP YAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAAHAHAHAHQHQHAHAHQHQHAJQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQ MERCY PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH IS TOO MUCH TICKLISH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA I'M TOO SENSITIVE THERE HAHASHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAH GIVE ME MERCY PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAYAHAAHHAHAAUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA PLEASE SHURI MERCY PLEASE AHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAAHAHAHAHHAH THIS ISN'T FAIR HAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAHJAJAJAAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJANO MORE PLEASE JAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAJAJAJAHAHAHAHAHJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJJAJAJ PLEASE STOP MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHHAHAHQHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHQHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA I'M TOO VERY TICKLISH.

Namor begged her while screaming with laughter hysterically and shaking trying to get out of the reach of Shuri's lips while she hugged his torso tightly so she could stay with her lips against Namor's bare skin to continue blowing raspberries. He even spoke still with his lips we hit against his skin feeling how Namor screamed and also screamed hysterically laughing when he felt the words of Shuri's beautiful lips vibrating against his hypersensitive skin of his ribs Namor could not lie even though in part he liked to be close to Shuri it is without a doubt it was not the way he had imagined himself with Shuri sincerely besides that he is panicking since he did not want to have any incident for the overdose of tickling that Shuri was doing to him especially because despite That he couldn't really remember the last time they tickled him if he could remember that he had shamefully peed on him also Namor still remembers the times his mom had tickled him before he died when he was little and still remembers that he always had to go away from there swimming because otherwise he ended up peeing from the laughter of the tickling that his mom constantly made him. Finally Shuri took pity on Namor and stopped briefly tickling him to which Namor took as much oxygen as possible.

Shuri: I didn't think I could be even more surprised by the amount of tickles you have on your body Namor but I was wrong you are really very ticklish... I wonder how your feathers would feel if I passed them through all your ribs.

I tell Shuri while taking Namor's old feathers again to which Namor immediately began to move frantically clearly trying to save himself from the attack of the tickling that he was undoubtedly about to receive in his poor ribs.

Namor: no Shuri jajajaajajjaaja please hahahahahahahahahah don't do it hahahahahaha I beg you hahahahahahahahahhaha please.

Namor couldn't finish talking when he suddenly began to feel how Shuri began to gently move his feathers down his ribs which immediately horrified him because that was tickling him a lot. Namor tried with all his strength not to laugh at the tickling he was experiencing in that sensitive part of his body but unfortunately for him he began to feel much more tickles since Shuri had begun to move the feathers faster and faster against him so that Namor realized that he was no longer going to put up with his hysterical laughter.

Namor: SHURI STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHHAHAHQHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHQHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA I BEG YOU PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHHAHAHQHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHQHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA I CAN'T STAND IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHHAHAHQHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHQHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHHAHAHQHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHQHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA I'M TOO VERY TICKLISH HAHAHAHAHAHAHQHQHAHHAHAHQHAHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHAHAHAHQHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA PLEASE HAVE MERCY MERCY.

Shuri: Wow Namor you really have a very serious case of tickling and I won't lie to you I'm really surprised because you don't really look like the guy with too many tickles.

Shuri told her while Namor had had problems hearing her because of how loudly he was screaming for the tickles that simply continued against his poor hypersensitive skin and without stopping at all Namor had to accept that he really wanted the tickling to stop because he had realized that he was having problems to be able to endure them but also because he had realized that if Shuri continued to do it he would end up mortally humiliated because he would end up accidentally peeing on him but that's when for his relief Shuri gave him a break.

Namor: thank you... that was really too much Shuri please let me go you don't have to keep tickling me please it's just horrible.

Namor begged him while he watched Shuri straighten up.

Shuri: I wonder if you have other areas or even other tickling points in everything else of your body... I wonder if your stomach will also be ticklish.

Namor: NO! PLEASE! ... Shuri I beg you I really have a lot of tickling there please Shuri don't do it... I won't be able to stand it.

Namor begged him while trying to get out from under her and protect his stomach but that's when to his horror Shuri began to move his fingers gently on his stomach and immediately Namor tried to contain his hysterical laughter inside himself but unfortunately Namor began to lose control and little by little he began to laugh.

Shuri: tell me something, Namor... when did you tell me that you had adopted Namor's name as yours because of what that man had told you when you went to bury his mother? If that's not your birth name that your mother had given you then what's your real name then? Or should I tickle you more to make you tell me?

When Shuri asked Namor that, they began to move their fingers faster and faster against Namor's stomach, something that finally made Namor laugh completely with an absolute completely hysterical laugh.

Namor: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA SHURI PLEASE STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I BEG YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I CAN'T STAND IT ANY LONGER HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE I'M TOO TICKLISH PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAVE ME MERCY MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA MERCY MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

To say that Shuri had been surprised and a lot because of Namor's reaction to the tickling in the stomach was really very little to say at least but despite that Shuri began to move his fingers all over Namor's stomach and even began to move them very close to his navel something that had absolutely driven Namor completely crazy.

Namor: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA SHURI PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA DON'T TICKLE ME THERE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT'S JUST HORRIBLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I BEG YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA BUT MERCY HAVE ME MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE DON'T TICKLE ME THERE.

And while Namor begged him to avoid at all costs between his laughter that Shuri tickled his navel at the same time he was still trying to get out from under her before for his great relief Shuri gave him a pause that made him relieve himself because he was already fearing the fact that he would end up having an accident that would end up wetting his soaked green shorts and this time he could not say that it had been the ocean's fault.

Shuri: I'm not sure Namor after all and everything you've done you should receive a punishment unless it's clear that you want everyone in Wakanda and Talokan to find out in an unexpected way about this great weakness of yours.

Namor: Shuri please Hahaha don't do it haha I'm too ticklish hahaha please hahaha I won't be able to stand it anymore hahahaha hahahah I beg you hahahaha please hahahaha don't do it hahahaha I'll tell you anything ahahah please hahaha.

And when Namor again tried to escape from under her when suddenly Shuri began to tickle him all over his navel which caused Namor to immediately lose his sanity.

Namor: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA SHURI NO MERCY PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I CAN'T STAND IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT'S HORRIBLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT'S SOMETHING INHUMAN HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE PITY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

Shuri kept his tickling torture by moving his fingers inside Namor's navel to make him laugh with absolute hysteria and Namor for his part began to lose any kind of sanity and began to try everything to save himself from the tickles that Shuri was doing on his sensitive navel but to his relief Shuri stopped and Namor immediately took a lot of oxygen while he was trying to recover all the oxygen he had lost from the tickling against his navel.

Shuri: could you tell me what your real name is? And specifically I'm referring to the name your mother gave you at birth Namor... he didn't talk about the name you adopted as yours for all your enemies but your real name.

Immediately when Shuri asked Namor that he was shocked because the only people who knew his real name were his cousins Attuma and Namora I can't help but think about how I should tell Shuri especially because he had almost completely forgotten it.

Namor: is Ch'ah... My real name Shuri... is Ch'ah Toh Almehen.

Shuri looked at him for a brief moment before leaning towards him and immediately Namor closed his eyes because he had thought that Shuri was going to kiss him but instead of that Shuri whispered in Namor's ear the following that had made him deadly nervous.

Shuri: tell me something. Ch'ah... have you ever been blown raspberries in your stomach?

Immediately when he asked him, he didn't have time to answer Shuri when she leaned over and began to mercilessly blow raspberries all over his stomach but specifically in his navel, which led Namor (Ch'ah) to absolute hysteria.

Namor (Ch'ah): SHURI PLEASE STOP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I BEG YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT'S TOO MUCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I WON'T STAND HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT MUCH LONGER PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA MERCY PLEASE GIVE ME MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I'LL DO WHAT YOU WANT PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I PROMISE YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

Namor shouted at him while laughing with complete hysteria while Shuri was still blowing raspberries all over his stomach but especially in his navel and after a few very but VERY long moments Shuri stopped blowing raspberries all over Namor's stomach but despite that Shuri kept his lips against Namor's navel and while Namor breathed frantically before he calmed down and then he saw Shuri waiting for her to let him go although Namor had of course found something strange the fact that Shuri had kept his lips against his navel and by the time Namor was going to tell him something it was when instead of words coming out of his mouth it was only laughter and hysterical laughter that came out because suddenly he had felt something warm and wet in his navel and that's when he realized that it had been because Shuri had lied his tongue in his navel immediately Namor began to scream and also laughing hysterically at full lungs.

Namor (Ch'ah): SHURI MERCY GIVE ME MERCY PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA DON'T TICKLING ME WITH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAYOUR TONGUE IT'S HORRIBLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IT REALLY TICKLISH ME A LOT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE BLOW ME AGAIN RASPBERRIES PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHABUT I BEG YOU PLEASE DON'T TICKLING ME WITH YOUR TONGUE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I'LL DO EVERYTHING YOU WANT PLEASE GIVE ME MERCY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHQHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

While Namor begged and laughed hysterically at the top of his lungs to Shuri that stopped Namor fidgeted frantically under her waiting for Shuri to have mercy and while Shuri still had her tongue in her navel which made Namor realize that definitely the tongue was even worse than raspberries in all her super sensitive and very ticklish stomach and navel Shuri on the other hand had not stopped at all while she felt how Namor agitated genetically under her and also laughed hysterically before everything was in complete silence and then Shuri stopped tickling Namor before she looked at him only to see him completely still with his eyes closed which immediately scared her at the idea that he had killed him by accident to which Shuri immediately got up from him and quickly stood next to her side.

Shuri: ¿Namor? ¿¡CH'AH!? CH'AH DON'T PLAY WITH ME!?… ¿Ch'ah?.

Shuri began to really get very scared, so he immediately began to give him soft slaps on the cheek in the hope that that would work so that he would wake up before Shuri put his Kimoyo pearls against Namor to check if Namor had a pulse, to which GRIOT immediately commented that Namor was still alive and was still breathing, to which to Shuri's great relief he sighed relieved to know before simply GRIOT also told him that Namor had simply fainted from the lack of breath, but that he would wake up soon. Shuri couldn't help but look at Namor was still fainting on the floor and obviously, Shuri knew that she could have left without problems, but she didn't because she couldn't help but look at Namor and realized how handsome he really was while Shuri couldn't deny that she had started to fall in love with him when she was in Talokan with Riri and couldn't help the fact that he was aware that she had really fallen in love with him and before she knew it she leaned over and gave Namor to tender kiss on the lips and by the time she was going to move away it was then when she let out a small scream when she suddenly found herself under Namor since it had turned out that he had woken up and before Shuri moved away from him and then Namor quickly brought her closer to his body and got on top of her to keep her close to him while he kissed her again on her full lips.

Namor (Ch'ah): if I have to let you tickle me until I faint so you can kiss me again then I'll let you do that to me forever Shuri.

After Namor said that to Shuri before giving him a tender and really very loving kiss on his cheek while he still had her imprisoned under his body and after a few moments Shuri simply could no longer hold back before he told him the following.

Shuri: I'm really in love with you Ch'ah.

When he heard her say that, Namor immediately looked into her eyes while caressing her cheek with his hand and Shuri could see how Namor's beautiful doggy eyes began to shine like when they met at the lake when she was with her mother and was leaving her mourning clothes before suddenly Namor kissed her again before telling her the following.

Namor (Ch'ah):: I'm also completely in love with you... My princess... My Shuri.

He told her before they both kissed and another with Namor hugging his beloved Shuri by her waist while Shuri had her arms around Namor's neck it was an even more romantic way than any other they would have given that same day.

THE END

For:@suicunewriter

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