#wakandans

Danny considered going to Canada, because he heard they had maple syrup and weren’t really into starting fights, but then Frostbite suggested Wakanda. “A hidden, technologically advanced kingdom,” Frostbite boomed with a fang-filled smile. “They are isolated yet powerful. A worthy first partner.”

And that’s how Danny Phantom, ghost king of the afterlife, showed up in Wakanda in his full royal regalia—ripped jeans, a NASA hoodie, and glowing white hair that he had half-heartedly tried to tame with ectoplasm gel. His crown—which he insisted was optional—hovered behind his head like a haunted hula hoop. The Wakandan guards were not impressed. One of them tried to spear him on sight.

“HI!” Danny shouted, floating three feet off the ground to avoid being stabbed. “I come in peace! And also kind of by accident! I may have ripped a hole in your sky barrier. Sorry!”

They dragged him to Shuri.

Princess Shuri was not having a good week. Some idiot on the Council of Elders tried to propose to her again, a hyena broke into her lab and stole a vibranium gauntlet, and now there was a glowing white boy hovering upside down in her throne room claiming to be the King of Ghosts.

“You,” she said, pointing a very sharp finger at him, “are either the most powerful being in the multiverse or the dumbest man I’ve ever met.”

Danny, still upside down, squinted at her. “I can be both. It’s called multitasking.”

Shuri blinked. Then laughed. Then immediately regretted laughing because Danny took it as a sign they were friends.

He followed her around like a lost ectoplasmic puppy for three days, asking questions like, “Do you believe in ghosts?” and “If your vibranium works on sound frequencies, does that mean you could weaponize my ghost wail and make, like, a portable banshee cannon?” and “Do you wanna ride my haunted dinosaur?”

Shuri didn’t know what to do with him. He was infuriating. He phased through walls. He reorganized her lab equipment by vibe. He called her nanobot swarm “glowy spiders.” He kept summoning ghost animals to show her like a toddler bringing frogs into the kitchen. At one point he tried to court her with a bouquet of screaming flowers from the Nightmare Zone. They bit her. She threw them in the incinerator. He pouted for an hour and sulked on the ceiling.

Somehow, this only made him more endearing.

Because sure, he was a pain in the ass, but he was also… genuine. And weirdly charming. He made her laugh when she wanted to scream. He made her guards nervous, which was hilarious. He helped her reboot a broken AI system by whispering ghost gibberish into its processor. It worked. Nobody knew why. Not even Danny.

And then there was the incident at the United Nations.

Danny, trying to prove he could be a good king and a solid diplomatic partner, insisted on attending a meeting with Shuri in New York. He wore a suit. The suit burst into flames five minutes in because he forgot he couldn’t suppress his ecto-core for more than an hour without leaking nuclear-level ghost juice. He tried to cover it up by summoning a clone to sit in his chair while he phased under the table to cool off in spectral form. Unfortunately, his clone started ranting about how France smelled like bread ghosts and threatened to annex Canada “in the name of spooky justice.”

Shuri had to drag him out of the UN by the collar of his glowing cape.

Back in Wakanda, after the global scandal of the “Ghost King’s Toasted Clone Uprising,” Danny was sulking on a floating chair, eating ice cream straight from the tub and accidentally freezing the spoon with his aura.

“I’m never doing politics again,” he declared, face half-smeared with mint chocolate chip.

“You are literally a king,” Shuri reminded him, arms crossed. “You have to do politics.”

“Then I abdicate. I leave the Ghost Realms to my dog, Cujo. He’ll make treaties with slobbery kisses and head pats.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” Shuri sighed, snatching his spoon and dipping it into the tub. “A glowing, interdimensional, mint-breathed drama queen.”

Danny perked up. “Did you just share my ice cream? Is this a bonding moment?”

“No.”

“It feels like a bonding moment.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m just saying, if I died again right now, I’d die happy.”

“You’re already dead.”

“Exactly. That’s how good this moment is.”

And then came the courtship.

Apparently, in ghost culture, any monarch who shares food with another royal is engaging in “pre-mating ceremonial bonding.” Danny found this out after the ice cream moment and immediately declared that he was now courting Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, Heir of the Panther, Queen of His Afterlife.

Shuri threw a shoe at him.

Danny dodged, declared it a “warrior’s blessing,” and carried the shoe around for two days as a sacred relic.

T’Challa returned from a diplomatic mission to find a literal ghost king holding his sister’s sandal in one hand and trying to explain to Okoye why his haunted llamas needed Wakandan citizenship. The Black Panther stared. Blinked. Then turned around and left without saying a word.

It only got worse when the ghosts started showing up.

You see, Danny forgot to mention that his realm was connected to every plane of existence, including all other universesand timelines. So, one by one, people started noticing strange, glowing portals opening in their showers, under their beds, and once—tragically—during a live interview with Tony Stark, who got slimed with ectoplasm and spent an hour screaming about “interdimensional snot monsters.”

Wanda Maximoff accidentally astral-projected into Danny’s throne room during a meditative nap and got stuck in a four-hour tea ceremony with Princess Dorathea the Dragon Ghost, who tried to set her up with Wulf, the yeti-looking ghost of justice. Doctor Strange kept getting prank-called by Technus, who hacked the Sanctum’s Wi-Fi and kept sending memes with captions like “Ur magical protections are mid. Sincerely, King Danny.”

Eventually, the Avengers invited Danny to a meeting.

He showed up fifteen minutes late, riding a skeleton horse, wearing sunglasses indoors, and drinking bubble tea through a glowing straw. Thor challenged him to a duel for “honor and clarity.” Danny beat him by turning intangible and pantsing him in front of everyone.

Shuri watched from the sidelines, sipping her own bubble tea, absolutely smitten and refusing to admit it.

“Just marry him already,” Okoye muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“I don’t even like him,” Shuri snapped. “He’s a reckless, chaotic disaster. He tried to eat vibranium popcorn and exploded.”

“You saved his ectoplasmic signature in your lab.”

“For scientific research!”

“You painted your gauntlet with his core color.”

“It’s a good aesthetic!”

“You wrote a five-page protocol for ‘dealing with ghost boyfriends.’”

“PREEMPTIVE PLANNING.”

Danny, overhearing all of this from the ceiling, grinned like a haunted gremlin. “So you do like me.”

“Get out of my lab,” Shuri said.

He floated closer. “Make me.”

She did. By launching him into orbit with a vibranium railgun.

He came back the next day with a moon rock and a bouquet of cosmic roses made of stardust and regret. She didn’t smile. Not really. Just a little.

And thus began the weirdest, most politically unstable, gloriously cursed romance in the history of both the Ghost Zone and the multiverse. International relations were a mess, ghost cats roamed Wakandan streets, Thor and Cujo became best friends, and Danny made a habit of whispering “I’m Shuri’s spooky consort” at every formal event while phasing through walls.

Nobody knew if it was true love or mutually assured chaos.

The door slid open, Bucky pushing past it and toppling into the new hallway. How many had it been now? At least a dozen. Endless corridors and hallways. He'd thought his memories were back, that he knew what had happened. That had been a lie. The traumatic ones he remembered, but those didn't hurt like what he'd seen.

He slides to the floor, laminate of some kind, and curls in on himself. The faces of those who hadn't been targets, casualties, or family members. People who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It burnt. The screams of those he cut to pieces to get the needed information. Hearing the wails of people finding their loved ones dead. Bucky knew what he had done, but seeing it was a new level of hell. How many times did he have to relive this nightmare before he was free?

No one was safe if he was tasked with killing them. The brutal efficiency with which he had to finish his mission was what had kept him alive. Handlers were killed when they lost usefulness; scientists, doctors, trainers- it didn't matter. They died by his hand. Bucky had been so good that they couldn't replace him. Even tasked to try and train the next set of soldiers, widows, other military men he had lost the names to. Now he was being forced to see what he did, over and over again. 

Something touched his shoulder, and he jerked back. Metal arm pushing back against what had touched him, it hit metal. Looking up, he saw himself, the younger Soldier holding Bucky’s metal hand with his. The muzzle was gone, the black paint smeared like he had tried to wipe it off unsuccessfully. His blue eyes were red from irritation. How long had he been gone for? The Soldier had just been left here. Had been here for so long. Years. Now it was worse, because he knew that he wasn't whole. Knew the handlers weren't coming, that he was trapped in this unending maze of horrors.

Bucky stared at him for a moment before they both moved away from each other. The Soldier sat down across from Bucky, who put his back to the wall. 

“Uh,” Bucky swallowed, wiping at his face. “I am sorry we got separated again.”

The other man just nodded, shoulder pulled tight. His arm grinding uncomfortably, he reached over and popped it off. Tossing it away from him, before leaning his head against his hand. Bucky watched him for a moment, feeling the waves of sadness wash over him. Bucky didn’t stop to think about what he was doing and just slid over so that he was beside the trembling man. He still didn’t touch him, afraid that he might not be able to. That they would get separated again. 

Bucky had told the Soldier that he was in his own mind, that they were one and the same. Hydra was gone, and he had been walking here for years. It had broken him out of whatever spell he had been under, or maybe this was part of the algorithm. What Shuri was doing. Why Bucky had been seeing so many of his own transgressions. Somehow, this was all part of the mending of his mind. At least he hoped it was. What else could it be? He didn’t want to be going through this, to have to experience this. To have to witness a part of him be so broken and confused. All of it was so unspeakable. For it to be nothing. 

“I don’t know what is going on,” Bucky starts, trying to gather as much strength as he could. “I think this all part of healing.” He rubbed his face. “This is so stupid, or sounds stupid. But I just saw some really, really terrible stuff that we did.” Fingers clenched and unclenched, your voice, Steve’s voice. “No, it wasn’t what we did. It was what we were made to do.”

“We did it.” The Soldier whispers, snuffling at his nose. Tears leave trails down his smeared face as he stares blankly at the wall across from him. “I’ve seen.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky leans his head against the wall. The words rang true in his mind, it always had, no matter what he’d been told. No matter how many times he tried to believe what others said, the blood had been on his hands, their last words that echoed in his ears. 

“Yeah, you're right, we did a lot of really terrible things. We followed orders. We were told what to do, and we did it. Played the part of the perfect weapon, the perfect soldier.” Bucky felt his throat tighten. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stay here. Stay in this place forever. We were brainwashed, tortured, forced to do terrible things, over and over and over again.” Bucky wipes at his face, letting it out into whatever hell this was. “But we get a chance. A chance that most people don’t get. We get a chance to be free. To have a life that could be ours. Not to be dictated by what they made us do.” 

The silence stretches for several moments, Bucky working to catch his breath and calm his mind. This was difficult, trying to convince himself that it was okay to move on. He had to move on, or he would never get out of here. Shuri or not, it was still his mind; part of him knew that. She could cut as much as possible, but he had to accept the change. Accept that he was free.

It didn’t erase what had happened, or what his own hands had done. None of it would remove the scars he would carry for the rest of his life. The memories would always be there, those moments. Nothing could change that. The only thing he could change was what happened next. There was no going back in time or changing the outcome, just what happened next. No longer living in the shadow of his past. His future was in his hands. Both of theirs. Bucky and the Soldier. 

“You do,” The Soldier replies. His voice trembles, but there is no malice in the words.

Bucky shakes his head, “Not without you. We are in this together. Think we are more like than you know.”

Moving around the room felt surreal. You could put most of your weight on the joint already; it had been about ten days since surgery. It felt a lot longer than that; your days were spent between bed, shuffling down to sit with James, and physiotherapy. Everything was going as expected for you. James was also progressing, but at a much slower pace. The words were still triggering areas at random. Shuri would run the algorithm to attack the areas, only to find it had little effect.

Despite this, Shuri was not giving up. If anything, it seemed to spur her forward. Her and her team were spending countless hours trying to figure out what was happening. Trying new techniques, adjusting how the attack certain areas. The current method was stimulating the brain with a certain trigger word and immediately using a laser to cut it. It was a painfully slow process, but it seemed to be working. 

“Nicely done,” Nurse Kona says with a smile as you manage to sit down on your own after doing several laps of the small room. 

“Thanks,” You say, taking a drink of water. “Getting better. I am amazed that I have this much mobility already.”

Kona sits beside you, “You’re pushing hard, but not too hard. Ellen is keeping a close eye on your progress.”

“I have to keep both of you on your toes,” You tease, rubbing at your knee. It had become a habit of yours, fingers tracing over the faint raised scars. There was barely anything. The scar from the stab wound was more raised than any of the others. 

Chuckling, Kona stands up and stretches. “I believe your friend, Steve, is back. I’ll bring you back to your room, and you can have lunch.”

You nod and push yourself up, making sure your brace is tightened, before slotting yourself into the crutches. The pads push gently against your forearms, hands wrap around the handles. Ellen had moved you to the forearm crutches relatively quickly. It made you more aware of how much weight you could put on your knee. There was still a bit of a limp, and you often found yourself automatically holding your leg up as you used to before. Habits had been made, and you were having to change them every day.

Down the hallways and a few elevators later, you came into your room, no longer a hospital room, but an apartment in the complex. Steve was pacing the room when Kona dropped you off, promising to come get you to go see James later that day. You hobble over, relishing in the smell of curry before watching your friend. His hair stood on end from his fingers constantly carding it. 

He was talking at a rapid pace into the small device, which looked like an old school flip phone. Aside from the blue glow, it could have been something from the early two thousands. You worry at your lip and lean the crutches against the counter, carefully grabbing plates and glasses. 

Steve had been gone for several days, talking at a UN hearing over the Accords. He had been working tirelessly, trying to get the Accords overturned or amended at least. This didn’t cover the endless oddities that he had been facing, a lot of them tied back to the Enders. There were others; some groups of ex-hydra militants had joined together to try to resurrect experiments that were going terribly wrong. You weren’t sure how he was handling it. The man was dealing with bureaucratic paperwork on a global scale. Getting permissions from governments and their military was almost impossible. Yet, he was still getting them. A few countries had given them blanket permission, as long as certain parameters were met. 

The man would probably make a great politician if he didn’t despise the system so much. Steve had made a face when you’d mentioned it. Natasha had laughed so hard that your cheeks had gone pink. Your heart clenched; you missed the team. It had never been easy, but there were small things, talking with Natasha. Helping show Wanda that tech and medicine weren’t scary but a tool that could be useful. Watching Sam take the lead and Steve set up, as Tony stepped back. It hadn’t been perfect, but it had been yours. 

“I never thought it would be easier to deal with the Russians than with the English,” Steve grumbles, finally closing the phone, snapping you out of your own mind.

You force a smile on your face as you slide a plate over to him, “Well, it is the English, never been good at sharing.”

He snorts and grabs the plate that looks like the plainest chicken and rice you’ve ever seen. “How are you doing, Doc?” 

“Can do five laps of the room without falling over, trying not to use the crutches as much.” You fill him in on the details, trying to hide the twinge in your guts. 

The underlying fear that everything was going to fall apart was always there. The two of you sit across from each other, the window open enough that you can smell fresh rain. You try to relax, staring down at the food. James would love the curry; you’d have to find out where they got it. 

“Not talkin' about your knee,” Steve replies, tapping the side of his head. “How’s up there? It looked like you’d disappeared for a moment.”

Your tongue pushes against your lower lip. “I didn’t expect to miss the compound so much. Not the actual building, but the people.” Pausing, you push your food around. “I know we were running from one thing to another. Just absolute chaos, but I miss the group. Not sure we will ever get back to what we had.”

Steve nods, his own brows furrowing, “Not sure we will. Doesn’t mean we won’t come to visit. Think once Buck is out of the deep freeze, we will have a little get-together. Nothing Stark-level, but it feels like we should do something.”

“That would be good, really good.” You let yourself smile, the idea of having everyone under one roof is a balm on your heart. 

Shuri taps at the screen, her lip caught between her teeth as she flips through different pages and images. You watch her, triggering different areas, lights popping up in different parts of James’ mind. It was less than before, but there were still highlights. 

Shuffling over, you reach up to place a hand on the glass. It’s cool under your fingertips; his face is slack. Looking almost peaceful, in a way it never had when he was asleep. However, when you looked at your tablet, you could spot a few of the blips in his readings. There was no clear pattern to them; despite the algorithm running through his mind, they came at random points. You knew that time was different inside his mind; what felt like minutes could be hours here. 

“I know you’re stubborn, but it would be really great if you could work with us on this,” You say out loud to him. Watching his heart rate go up a few beats, it always did when you talked to him. “Steve is going to be leaving again, not sure when he is going to be back.” You let yourself sit in a chair, keeping your hand against the glass. “I am moving around almost on my own, got the forearm crutches. Pain is pretty good too, less than it was before. Could probably move the goats with you now. Sure, Marge will be yelling at us for being gone so long.”

Coming over to you, Shuri pulls out her projector, turning it on to show James’ brain. “We are down to two words.” She flips through the list of words, “Rusted, and Nine. If I skip over those, we get no lights. But if we say them-” Flipping through different highlighted areas until she stops on one. “-Even out of order. The whole place lights up.” 

You reach up and spin the brain scan around, taking in all the lights. “Two more words.” Sitting back, you look up at James. “I am guessing it’s just going to take more time?”

“I think his mind is fighting against us. Similar to when he and Wanda would go in and try to block off areas. From what I read in your reports, his mind would remove it just as fast as you could get in. It’s trying to protect itself from more damage,” Shuri explains, flipping back to the live scan of his mind. “I think we may have to try something more extreme.”

“Getting him fully unconscious.” You reply, having already wondered if this would be the case. 

“We can keep going with what we have been doing,” Shuri continues. “I am not certain of the time, or if it will work as we hope.” She pauses, worrying at her lip. “Or. We could increase his sedation. It would put him on the edge of death, but enough that his mind would be offline. So to speak. Run the algorithm for those two words, and then decrease the sedation. Not enough to wake him up, but enough that we could test those words without worry of causing any damage.” 

Running a hand through your hair, you look at your tablet; everything is stable, an occasional blip surfacing and disappearing just as quickly. The sedation he was under was already significantly higher than anything you’d seen before. His body metabolised medication at a rapid rate, meaning that increasing it was dangerous. 

“We would have to run tests on how much he could handle. We never got to this point before, but I know it was difficult with how fast his body metabolised drugs. Even the anesthesiologist struggled to keep a nerve block working properly.” You close your eyes, unsure what to do or if this is the right choice. 

“We would be using a combination of things. Our pharmacist has been running small tests to see what would work over the last several weeks,” Shuri replies, placing her hand on your shoulder. “He would go on a ventilator instead of the mask we are currently using. We would drop the temperature as low as possible, keeping his heart rate just above flatline. Then run the algorithm, pinpoint the spots that need to be resected, then go in through his skull. It’s complicated and hasn’t been done before.” She sighs, standing beside the cryochamber. “I am not sure there is a better option. We could keep running different programs, but I am certain we won’t be able to rid him of these words without shutting him out. The only option is to actually go in physically, removing larger amounts of tissue.”

“Okay,” You say quietly, wanting to scream at the world. Why could nothing just be simple? Why couldn’t this have worked the way it was planned? “When?”

Shuri’s shoulder dropped. “I will need to do some further testing. Make sure the medication we are using is appropriate. Gather a team together; get us all on the same page. Double-check everything. I will not proceed if I have any doubt, Doc.”

You nod and wipe at the stray tears that have found their way out. Anger pushing at the edges, not at Shuri, or James, or anyone. It was the situation you have been put in, how things keep stacking up. What you would do to have some peace. To have something go the way it was planned.

The lights kept flickering on and off, walls shimmering and changing all around them. They had tried to move, going to any door that would open, passing by memories that never seemed to see them. It had changed since Bucky had last been through here. The memories no longer sucked them in, making them experience them as if they were really there; instead, he and the soldier saw them from the outside. No one inside reacted to them coming and going. Bucky wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. He was currently too busy trying to keep his younger half with him. 

Rounding a corner, they found themselves in another cement corridor. The Soldier froze, body tightening like a coil. Every time they found themselves in a Hydra base memory, he would start shutting down. Bucky would often have to physically drag him away or shake him out of it. 

This time, he only froze for a moment, then his shoulder moved away from his ear. He looked at Bucky, then gestured with his head to go down the hallway. Bucky nodded and followed after him. 

It was the first time the Soldier had made a move without Bucky leading the way. He was taking charge of this situation; whatever it was, Bucky would back him in it. The younger version of himself had become like a younger sibling, reminding him of his sisters. He needed guidance and comfort, and if the Soldier needed to confront a memory, then Bucky would do that too. 

The experience of being in his memories had been disturbing at first. A constant barrage of terrible experiences that he had to relive and be a witness to. Then it evolved. Bucky had seen how his younger self reacted to dangerous situations; he always put himself between the danger and Bucky. The Soldier, despite being so broken he barely spoke, still looked out for others. It had snapped something into place for Bucky. Against everything he had been through, inside him was someone who would still fight to protect those he cared about. 

Bucky watched as the Soldier went through a door, he knew where he was going and what would be behind it. Following his lead, Bucky was the one to freeze in the doorway. Dr. Zola stood there, medical tools in his hand. The Soldier walked right up to him, his shoulders square and tight, metal fist clicking as he clenched it tight. Behind Zola, another version of Bucky lay on the metal medical table. His blue eyes fogged like he was dead, arm severed halfway below his elbow.

“My most successful subje-" A strange noise came out of the man as the Soldier grabbed him by his throat. The man tried to call out, but the memory guards didn't move. 

The Soldier roared loud enough for it to echo in the room. Bucky stepped in, letting the Soldier slam the man against the metal. He shifted his focus to himself on the table. His hair was short-cropped, his face clean-shaven, military fatigues cut away from his body. There were IVs and tubes running in and out of his body. A crude metal arm sat beside his bloody stump. The Zola seemed to have just started to close up the wound. Bucky shivered, seeing the stump half open. As he moved around the table, he saw that the back left side of his skull had also been opened, crude wires sticking out that ran into what must have been a computer. They had already started to reinforce his body with metal and wires. 

His teeth ground together, tearing his eyes from the memory, he looked up to see the Soldier rip Zola's arm out of his socket. The violence of it shocked Bucky for a moment. As the man slid to the floor with a scream, the Soldier threw the arm to the side. 

“You did this to me.” The Soldier spoke, his voice calm, despite his frenzied eyes. “You haunt my dreams. You broke me.”

Bucky came over to stand beside his younger self. Reaching up, he touched the man's shoulder. He turned to his older self and hugged him. Bucky freezes for a moment, then embraces him back. The two hold onto one another, clinging to the hope they could be whole again. That by confronting the monster that called himself a doctor would help heal open wounds that had been open for too long.

“He's dead. Zola can't hurt us now,” Bucky says, mostly to himself. “I am proud of you.”

The whole world goes black.

Somewhere outside of his mind, Bucky can faintly hear beeping.  There is a tug on his mind. He can still feel the Soldier, the two of them wrapped in an embrace. Zola was dead. Peirce was dead. Hydra was fractured. He was safe; no words could touch him.

Watching them sedate Bucky further was uncomfortable. His heart rate dropped; they then intubated him and hooked him up to several IVs. The theatre was quiet; you had been asked if students could watch. You'd declined. James was always private. He had said yes to being observed in the cryotube, but this was different. It felt so much more intimate now, him lying on the metal table. His hair was carefully parted so that they could cut into his skull and insert tools. 

The debate about whether to be here or not had been waged for two weeks. Shuri had been in meetings with other doctors and surgeons. This seemed to be the best outcome. It was the first of its kind, and possibly the only one. The risk was heightened because of his metabolism and healing factor. You know all this, and you knew it inside and out, yet your hands were still shaking.

You rubbed at your knee, the brace keeping it support, your forearm crutches leaning against the chair beside you. Your phone hadn't stopped buzzing since you woke up. People asking if you were okay, if James was okay. The worry had spread through your teammates; it was understandable, considering. It didn’t stop you from muting your phone. Taping your ear, you began to listen to the surgeons, techs, and nurses start to work. The earpiece translated for you. You had learned many languages, but technical language was not something you had full understanding of yet. 

An Anesthesiologist stood at their machine, eyes dialled in on the readings. You couldn’t imagine the stress they were under. James’ files had been gone over by everyone; they knew how his body worked as well as you did. Didn’t make it any easier for them. His blood pressure, heart rate, O2 saturation were all dangerously low. As low as they could safely go without lasting damage. 

Would he have damage? He’d been out for just under six weeks now. This wasn’t close to the longest he had been under for. During his time in Hydra, it had numbered into the years. It still made you nervous. There was a high chance that he would have some memory loss, but Shuri and her team were certain it would be temporary. But how temporary? Would he remember you? Remember the last two years? Or would it be lost, leaving you to have to start all over again? Would he even want that? 

Reaching up, you wipe at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. How often had you cried in the last fourteen days? Whatever happened, you’d be there, even if it was from afar. Just the idea made you have to sit. James was your whole world, your lifeline, the reason to keep getting up in the morning. Why you had fought so hard to be here. Would you be able to keep going from arm's distance? 

Stop. 

Your voice echoed in the room. 

That’s enough. 

A breath leaves you. Spiralling wasn’t going to help. You needed to focus on the here and now. Ground yourself. This was for James. The boundary needed to be drawn, made solid. It didn’t matter what happened or how it affected you personally. What mattered was that James was freed from the words. Free to live as close to a normal, enhanced human life. 

Right now, he needs to get through this operation. That was the focus. 

Gripping the armrests, you squeeze them until your palms hurt. Another breath before you look out the observation glass. 

All his stats were in range; it would have been terrifyingly low in anyone else. The techs adjust things as they move to use a laser to cut a small hole into his scalp, then skull bone, dura mater, and into the brain. Tiny micro-tools are then inserted into the exact area of the brain. The surgeon uses a constantly running scan to place the tool exactly where it is needed. Under normal circumstances, you’d be zooming in with each camera, trying to see exactly what they were doing. Right now, your eyes are just watching all the readings. 

The tool retracts, and the area is carefully closed. A small amount of liquid is put into the hole to ensure the skull heals properly. It was so small that it would barely be noticeable. You remember how James would carefully touch his scalp, fingers finding the dozens of scars that had been made. Trying to ignore how your heart lurches at the thought of him now having more. 

Six more holes are carefully cut, opened, tools slide in and are retracted. James’ heart jumps up once, his body twitching, but the Anesthesiologist quickly gets it under control. Your fingers dig into the armrests so hard you wonder how you haven’t shattered plastic into pieces. 

The one reading you keep flipping to is his EEG, watching his brain activity. Every time the tool was inserted, his Alpha waves would move ever so slightly. Despite being heavily sedated, his mind was still fighting back. You wrote a few notes down on this. Wanting to show it all to Shuri afterwards. It was something that, if studied further, could help others who experience anaesthesia awareness. There was so much information and value in people enhanced by serums that had been missed by those just looking to create weapons. 

How much groundbreaking technology has been kept away from the general public in the name of military interest? Your fist clenched, Stark had started to work on it. Trying to help vets, working with colleges and universities, starting programs. It wasn’t enough, it would never be enough, not really. Billions of dollars that were funnelled into making the next weapon. 

James, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Tony, and so many more. People forced into impossible situations and told to survive. 

Your fingers clenched so hard into your palm they felt like they would cut. Somehow, someway, you would work so that this didn’t have to keep happening, even if it was just to help those around you.

Something was choking him, but his arms wouldn’t work. Coughing, sputtering, he wretched up whatever it was. Gasping, someone was speaking, a thing was shoved in his mouth, sucking up the goop inside. He tried to open his eyes, fighting for them to at least show him who he was fighting for. It was all a blur. The lights were like runny paint in his eyes. His hands finally moved, barely dragging at the fabric of the bed.

Bed.

He was in a bed. Was it a hospital? Hydra? 

“You need to breathe, Mr. Barnes.” Someone said to his side as his breath came out in short pants. 

This wasn’t right. He needed to get out of here. Why couldn’t he remember where he was? He fought against the bedding; there were no straps. His body froze. They hadn’t strapped him in. The bed was comfortable, their voice soft, not demanding. His left arm was gone, no metal, no plates clicking, just gone.

“There you go; I know this is probably confusing.” The voice continued. “You are in Wakanda; we are helping you.”

Wakanda. Where was Wakanda?

“You’re in Africa, eastern Africa.” 

“Ultron,” His throat tightened to the point it was hard to breathe.

“He’s dead, well, we hope he’s dead,” The voice replies, tone even and practical. “You just came out of cryo, so your mind is going to be a little altered. Can you relax your arm, please?”

No Ultron, Wakanda, that meant no Hydra. He just couldn’t remember how he knew that. He closed his eyes. Images of hallways came in, so many hallways. Memories. Hallways and memories. His stomach heaved, and he turned his head in time for it to go over into a waiting bucket. It was almost nothing, more fluid than actual vomit. 

“Get it out. We will make sure you get some proper food soon.” Looking up, he saw a woman watching him, holding the bucket as if it were a normal day for her. “Cryo is rough on the body, not to mention you had surgery.”

“Hydra?” He coughs out, it had to be. 

She gave him a soft smile, not condescending, but comforting. “Not Hydra,” She says, a name, one he should know, again. “Do you want me to send her in?”

He blinks several times, clearing his eyes some more. “Who is she?” 

“I can’t tell you details, got to let your brain sort that out on its own.” The kind doctor says as she adjusts a few things on her tablet. “But she is important to you, been waiting for you to wake up.”

“Okay,” He replies, nodding his head. The room is clearer now, it's cosy and comfortable. The space is lit up by dim lights, the wall is made up of wood and sand-like plaster so that it doesn’t feel so sterile. 

A memory of a woman falling comes to mind, her body going over an edge. She’d been wearing his shirt; she hadn’t been scared, just determined. Another image of her in his arms, she had been bleeding. Whoever she was, he could feel his heart tighten, reaching for her. 

The woman stands and goes to the door, opening it up. He watches her gesture for someone to come inside.

You walk into the room, unsure of what lies past the door. James is sitting up against pillows, propped up, awake, mostly tube-free. He had struggled while waking up; it had been hard to watch. Not knowing if he would be combative or even remember anything. Seven weeks. It felt like a lifetime ago now. They had put James back into cryo after the surgery to do further testing. Despite things coming back positive, Shuri had found no activity to the words that would be concerning; his brain was acting as it should.  

Putting on a brave face, you look at him, really look, his blue eyes focus on you. Brows furrowing as he looks you up and down, trying to place you, to understand who you are. It was unnerving seeing him like this, just in a hospital gown, armless. You try to keep your body neutral, moving over to sit beside him. His eyes follow how you move, how you sit, fixating on your knee. It was still wrapped in a brace, but was moving better every day. You didn’t have to use a cane or forearm crutches for most things, unless it was long walks. 

Pulling the chair closer, you have to fold your hands over themselves so that you don’t reach for him. Touching him had been normal, but now it was starting at square one. He didn’t remember who you were, not yet. One step at a time; you have to keep reminding yourself.

“Been a while, James,” You say, not sure where to start. Steeling your heart, you give him your name, watching his eyes flick back and forth. “I think Yuri explained some. She's been your primary neurologist since you went under. Helped perform your surgery. Very talented doctor.”

James nods, still staring at you. You can almost hear the wheels turning. His right hand goes over to his left, fingers running over where his left arm used to be. Fingers tracing over the metal plating that's still there. His eyes flicker closed for a moment as he presses against a scar.

“If it hurts, they have figured out a combination of medication that will help,” You explain, carefully reaching to grab the PCA pump. “Just got to press the button.”

You place it beside his right hand, watching as he looks down at it before looking back up at you. He doesn’t grab it, fingers coming down to lie on the sheets. It was hard to let it go, to not want to push things. You just wanted to feel his skin under yours, to know that he was alive, real.

“I am not supposed to explain things to you. Got to let your mind piece things together.” You continue, trying to find a way to fill the space. “I’ve been in your shoes, forgetting things, people. It’s hard. But it will come back.”

Another nod from him. His face almost completely impassive, not giving away anything that was going on in his mind. It was almost comedic; James, when he wasn’t on mission, was incredibly expressive and you could almost read his thoughts just by watching him at meetings. Now he was hidden away again, so far away. Your heart twisted, biting at your lip.

“Steve found this curry place, the food is so good. He just got the spiced rice and plain chicken. I will have to bring you some if you want?” Just talk about anything at this point, you thought to yourself. It felt so awkward, so unnatural. 

“Steve?” James’ eyes dart towards the door, then back at you. 

That stung. You had to remind yourself that Steve and James had known each other for almost ten times longer than you did. Of course, he would remember Steve first. This was normal. You hadn’t remembered him right away when you had woken up. 

“Yeah, Steve Rogers. He is going to be coming to visit in a few days. Probably bring a few friends, Sam, Natasha.” You kept your tone as even as possible, watching to see if there was any recognition there. If there was any, he didn’t show it. “Why don’t I tell you what I can?”

James looked around for a moment, seemingly confused, before continuing. “Okay, I remember some.”

“That’s good. Do you want to tell me? Or should I go first?” 

“You.”

“Your name is James Bauchan Barnes, but most people call you Bucky. I’ve always called you James; it felt appropriate at first. Then it just became our thing. Kinda stuck.”

“We are friends.”

“Yes, I like to think so. I haven’t known you as long as Steve. I think he’s known you longer than anyone else.”

“Steve helped me leave Hydra?”

“Yes, he did, made sure you got here too.”

“With you?” 

You have to bite your tongue for a moment: “Yes. I had to have my own surgery done.”

His brows furrow, and he fiddles with the tube beside him. “For your knee. It’s better?”

“Yeah, a lot better actually. Can walk without crutches for the most part. I still get tired, but it’s getting better.”

“You were hurt, shot. I saw you fall.” His hand flips over, fingers letting go of the tubing. 

Nodding, you keep going, “You’re starting to remember; that’s good.”

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was so low, his eyes glassy as he looked away from you. It was barely a question, as if he had already resigned himself to having done it.

You go to reach for his hand, but stop. “Can I hold your hand?”

He nods his head and lets you take his. “Yes.”

The way your fingers fit together fills you with warmth and courage to keep going. “It wasn't you.” He shakes his head, fingers squeezing yours. A small sigh escapes. “It was your body, your hands, but I knew it wasn't you. The Soldier didn't have a choice. The man that I know didn't have a choice. That's why we are here. So you will always have a choice.”

His hand shakes in yours. “I have a choice?”

Moving just slightly so you're in his eyeline. “Yes. You can choose whatever comes next.”

Something breaks in him, a cog clicking into place, as a muffled sob escapes him.

Part 35

If you can believe it.. happy times are coming, even if its just a for a little while.

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“Hey mama” is the first thing I hear as I answer the FaceTime call from no one other than a great friend, Erik. He’s like a homeboy and my best friend and I truly tell him everything. In this call, he’s rocking his usual gold grills and a matching gold chain, a fitted black tee and his dreads are hanging low. “You sliding outside with me tonight?”

“I didn’t know I was going outside” I state fiddling in my back for my keys. The warm breeze wraps around me like a hug on this 70° day in May. When I finally take a look at him, I admit silently he looks good. I finally find my keys and unlock the door throwing my bag in the passenger seat. I place my phone on the holder in front of me where he sees a full view of my face. His grills gleam in the sunlight while flashing me a panty dropping smile. I take a deep breath followed by a long blink. This day has rocked me to my core.

“There’s that beautiful face. You need to come out I can see work kicked your ass” he observes. My brows pull together glaring at him.

“Nigga I’ve been getting jumped on all week” I’m a project manager for one of the biggest architectural companies in New York and it’s safe to say it has its perks but comes with its own personal hell.

“So then go get ready I’ll be at your house in 10” in beginning to regret giving him a key for him to just walk in as he pleases.

“Wait where are we going?” I click my seatbelt and begin the 20 minute drive towards my townhouse still listening to this man gloat about one of his many hoes.

“Well you remember that girl I’ve been talking to? Willow?” I half way remember the girl but he’s ran through so many I stopped keeping track. Plus why in the hell would I want to keep track of his flavor of the week? Me personally, it’s just me at home enjoying the abuse my clit takes from my fingers since my beautiful Roseauan had disappeared. I have a feeling I left it at Erik’s by accident the time I slept over and thought I’d need it. We didn’t fuck but I was ovulating and didn’t wanna be caught asking him to handle my needs. Although I would much rather my clit be abused by- “Y/N?” Erik calls me again pulling me out of my trance and I blink snapping myself back to reality. In this SnapBack i see he’s already in my house and raiding my fridge.

“Yes I remember” I lie. He pulls out some leftover pasta I made and continues.

“Well she invited me to this club called The Jungle. She’s hosting an event there and can get me a section so I’m inviting you. Mama where’s the hot sauce?”

“Erik you don’t need no damn hot sauce on pasta. Get the red chili flakes if you want spice and get the hell out my fridge” I turn into the driveway of my apartment before grabbing my purse and opening the door. I grab my phone stepping out of the car.

“You touch that door you die” he responds opening my front door. He steps outside to see I’m already out of the car to his dismay. He frowns hanging up the phone and greeting me with a large hug. His scent envelopes my nostrils. It’s a scent of woody and some vanilla. It makes me dizzy just thinking about that scent over top of me as he’s-

“How was work?” He asks grabbing my purse and car keys making sure to lock my door. He opens the door for me allowing me to go first. The click of my heels are cut short when I kick them off feeling relief as my bare feet hit the smooth wooden floor. The next item of clothing is my blazer which was not a good idea for this warmth the sun brings us today. I watch as Erik sets down my belongings and goes back to making his food.

“It was very rough. Jackson keeps yelling at me about the tiles like I haven’t told him a thousand times they are imported from Italy. He thinks they’re from fucking California because the company is based in California” I rub my temples feeling a headache forming.

“Did you eat today?” He asks taking the hot food out of the microwave. I shake my head responding to his question. I sit down in the chair and he sets down the bowl of pasta in front of me. He sits in front of me and pulls my bare feet into his lap rubbing them. The touch alone sets my skin on fire. A low moan rolls out of the back of my throat as his rougher hands massage away the tension in my feet.

“I thought you were gonna eat this” I ask. I take a bite and push the bowl back in front of him. He shakes his head setting it back in front of me.

“I’m going to eat some I’m gonna make more don’t worry. You need to eat and get ready you’re coming with me tonight and u don’t wanna hear anything else about it” he leaves no room for argument as much as I love getting rises out of him. I had no plans on going out tonight but rather than hear his mouth I stay silent and comply.

“Fine” I retort. He gets up leaving my feet missing his touch and he makes his own plate of food. “Are you wearing that or are you changing?”

“No I’m wearing this” he says “Ima turn on the game while you get ready. I’m thinking we leave here by like 8ish?” He questions without turning around. Watching his back muscles flex as he scoops the pasta into a bowl only has me wondering what he’d look like with my nail marks descending his back.

“Yea that gives me enough time” I say “you wanna help me pick something out?” I take a look at the time making sure I can pull off a look in a little under 2 hours.

“Yea sure” he places the food in the microwave. A comfortable silence falls upon us and I’m beamed with a thought.

“Does Willow know you’re bringing a friend? Let alone a girl?”

“No but it won’t be an issue. Plus I think I really like her” he says smiling softly looking down. Oh God! This isn’t just a hoe from around the way. Erik Kilmonger, the player, the Mack, the nigga who has hoes in different area codes likes this girl. I’ve never seen him blush like this.

“Really? Have you guys been on a date yet?” I question. My voice sounds flat but I do my best to perk it up and not lace it with whatever I’m feeling about Willow. Truth is, I don’t know this girl so they might really be into each other.

“Yea. She’s been really great and I find myself getting giddy around her. It’s weird I haven’t felt this way in a really long time” he admits. I nod looking down. If I make eye contact, it might show my lack of desire to talk about this girl even though I brought her up. I take a deep silent breath before asking my next question.

“Well why not make it official?” I ask. He paused for a moment before sitting down next to me and stirring the pasta. He’s contemplating on actually making it official with this girl. Fuck me. I didn’t think he’d actually use his brain to think about a life with her. I can admit I’ve thought of Erik the same way he thinks of Willow but I’m not sure he feels the same so I’ve just pushed it to the back of my mind.

“You know what you right” oh fuck “I should”

I nod reluctantly without saying a word. Just shoving the last of my pasta in my mouth. I finish at the same time he does because he likes to deep throat his food and he grabs our dishes rinsing them off and putting them in the dishwasher. I stand up grabbing my heels walking towards the steps, with Erik close behind me. I can feel his eyes staring into my ass with each step I take. Red tints my cheeks as we make it to the top of the stairs and make a b-line for my room. I set down my heels on the shoe rack in the closet and he plops on my bed.

“I know damn well your outside clothes aren’t on my damn bed” I say turning around with my arms folded in front of my chest. He stands up taking off shirt never breaking eye contact with me. He begins unbuckling his pants and I feel my heart racing. Before my brain can react, my hand is up stopping him from proceeding. The Wakandan god stands in front of me with a smirk tugging at his lips in satisfaction.

“Go get ready mama we know how long you take” he retorts. It isn’t before I flip him off, that I walk out of the room and into my bathroom turning the knob on hot. The shower steams quickly as I rid myself of my clothing.

As soon as I step in, the heat consumes me working at the relentless knots on my shoulders. I place my face under the water letting it run over me before finishing my shower routine in preparation for tonight’s activities. Body scrub, body oil, double wash, more oil on top to seal in the moisture. When I exit the shower my skin is glowing just the way I like and I’m still putting on lotion and other things to keep the glow all night.

I exit into my room with the towel wrapped around my chest and sit at the vanity seated in front of the window. I can feel Erik’s eyes on me as the tv plays the football game between the Chiefs and the Cowboys. I know nothing about football but Erik has spent time teaching me a lot.

I begin my skin care and make up before turning to find him already staring at me. “What?” He gives a certain look that erupts my stomach in butterflies and shrugs his shoulders.

“Nothing just watching you” just as his smile flashes his gold studded canines, his phone dings and that same smile transfers to who texted him. “Willow said she’ll meet us there” his phone is thrown on my bed and I nod breaking eye contact. I finish my MAKEUP feeling extremely satisfied now it’s time for an outfit. I ascend to my closet where I fiddle through my clothes before settling on an outfit. I hold my towel with one hand and reach up to grab some heels. I can feel the air hitting my lower cheeks and as many times as I’ve had my ass out around Erik in bathing suits or things like that, I hope he can’t see. My theory is if you’re not gonna spread my cheeks, don’t see them naked.

“Need help” his voice is low and it sends a shiver through my entire body. Without my response, his tall frame rises from my bed coming behind me to grab the heels I was looking for.

“Thank you” we remain silent with heavy eye contact. There goes my heart again. This friendship is too good to ruin over a kiss or a one night stand with him. I break the contact and step out of the room going back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Once I’m fully moisturized and dressed I step back into my room taking a look in the mirror. This OUTFIT makes me look delicious. I place my knotless braids in a bun and finish off the look with some hoops. I turn to Erik looking at a hungry satisfaction in his face.

“That slit is very high” he says standing up to put his clothes back on. I spray perfume all over my body watching the dress cling to my skin. The multiple colors just illuminating my body and accentuating my curves. I grab my small purse filling it with my essentials and shining a bright smile at him.

“That’s the point. You wanted me outside” I laugh. I begin descending downstairs and heading towards the door when Erik pushes me to the side to open the door for me.

“Bastard” I laugh going through. He locks up my own home and goes to the passenger side of his car door where he also opens that door. We’re exiting the house right on time when he jogs to the driver side. He hops in and I see a semi hard imprint of his dick outlining the dark denim of his pants. My mouth instantly waters and I turn my attention to the window to distract myself.

This is gonna be an interesting night.

….

“Hi baby” I hear a squeal when we walk into the famous club and lounge The Jungle. I turn my attention to the squeal of a woman who’s extending her arms to Erik. Oh that must be WILLOW. She’s beautiful. Slender frame, long curly hair in a sleek ponytail, long legs. In heels her and Erik are the same height and he’s already 6’2 just about.

“Hey mama” my stomach turns at him using the same nickname he used for me. I shouldn’t be jealous I’m just the friend but fuck this is hard. Knowing how my face can’t hide anything I’d rather go get some liquor in my system to relax me before the irritation takes over.

“This is my friend Y/N” he introduces. Her eyes trail me up and down before putting on what looks like a forced smile on her lips. She extends her hands shaking mine and I place the same forced smile on my lips.

“I’m Willow, Erik’s girlfriend” my eyes shoot to Erik as he didn’t tell me it was already official.

“Oh I didn’t know it was already official” I admit. My eyes never leave Erik but his are trained to the ground. Why isn’t this something he’d tell me.

“Yes the second we met I already knew he’d be mine. He’s so charming” I nod my stomach turning in knots. I look around trying to find the bar. Luckily it’s not too far.

“I’m gonna go get a drink” before anyone can respond I leave them be and head straight to the bar. While standing and waiting for the bartender, I feel a presence behind me. Then the familiar scent hits me. Erik.

“You ok?” His voice is low but I can still hear him over the loud music. Without turning around to acknowledge him, I nod. Of course I’m not ok you have a whole girl but damn near just seen me naked. He spins me around to meet his eyes.

“I’m good E” I lie looking right in his eyes. He sighs making eye contact with the bartender.

“Lemme get 3 shots of chilled Casamigos Reposado please” he orders. Wasn’t what I was going for but I’ll take it “please keep the tab open” Erik passes the bartender his card and he gives us the shots. Erik turns around signaling for Willow to come over. Jesus just when I needed a moment.

She strides over adding a little extra bounce in her step before stopping in front of Erik wrapping her arms around his stomach. I move slightly giving them room and she plants a sensual kiss on his lips.

She takes her shot, I take mine and Erik takes his and we cheers. “To a great night of letting loose”

We clink and throw back the cool smooth liquid before I feel it settling in my chest. I place down my empty glass and Erik orders 2 more sets of shots. Oh he’s trying to get straight to the point.

We take the next 2 and by now I’m already feeling it. I look at Willow and smile “so how long have yall been together” I question. She looks at him with the doting smile that could make me vomit.

“About 2 months now” my eyes cut into him and I nod. He definitely lied to me I’m thinking he hasn’t even crossed that bridge.

“Oh congrats” I say biting back cussing this man out

“How long have you guys known each other” she asks. I’m tempted to begin lying too but no need. I say the truth whether anyone likes it or not.

“We met in college and have been bound to the hip ever since” I say. I don’t even want to make eye contact with him. I shouldn’t feel betrayed but damn I thought I meant at least something enough to Erik to where he wouldn’t lie to me. Clearly I’m seeing I don’t.

….

We’ve been seated back at our section dancing talking and laughing well them 2 mainly I’ve been on my phone or watching the crowd. I’m definitely feeling the liquor but I could use some more so I grab one of the bottle girls and ask for a bottle of Don on a separate tab. She nods smiling at me and I retreat back to my corner.

“Baby I gotta go host and do a few things I’ll be back” she touches his dick giving him a wet sloppy kiss and I watch him get hard. All 9 inches forming in his jeans ready for attention. My eyes divert to the center of the dance floor for another distraction. Once Willow leaves, Erik diverts his attention to me.

“Y/N-“ the bottle girl brings me back my bottle and some cups and I begin pouring my own shot. I hand her my card but Erik snatches it out of her hand before replacing it with his own.

“You already know when you with me you don’t pay for nothing” he says. The bottle girl leaves and I can feel Erik’s eyes burning into my soul.

He slides over closing any space between us almost making me knock over my cup. I glare at him and he grabs my chin gently “tell me what’s wrong” he commands

“Nothing” I release him from my chin fearful that we’ll do more than just sitting directly next to each other.

“Y/N don’t lie to me” that sentence alone makes my blood boil with anger. I down the rest of my shot letting the warm liquid burn and settle in the back of my throat.

“You mean how you lied to me?” I question “I thought you were official with this girl at least that’s how it felt in the kitchen when you were talking about her” he sighs dropping his head

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” he admits. Honestly an apology isn’t enough for me and he needs to know that. I don’t do well with liars.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask pouring another cup this time for me and him. He eyes the brown liquid before taking the cup and downing it himself keep a straight face. He bites his lips letting his gold canines glimmer in the dark lighting of the club.

“I was nervous about what you’d say” he admits. This doesn’t feel like it’s the full truth but I’m too intoxicated to argue it “normally you know all the girls I talk to and you get a feel for them but I also haven’t been in a relationship in a long time so when she kinda put it on me I couldn’t say no” he says fiddling with his fingers.

“Erik you’re a grown man” I remind “you make your own decisions” as I’m speaking I notice the entire room moving in slow motion. We have officially reached peak drunk and there’s no telling how long we’ll be here. I look in Erik’s eyes and he’s already making eye contact with me. I can feel the heat in the room and the tension could be cut with a knife. “But what I’ve gathered from this is that I don’t mean as much to you as I thought I did if you felt like you had to lie to me” I shrug lookin downward at the Don bottle calling my full government name. It’s a painful confession but nonetheless a confession amongst the others I have no desire to admit to him especially about how much I’ve been in love with him since college. This friendship means too much to me to lose it.

In one swoop he grabs my chin again making me look at him. “You are so important to me I can’t imagine my life without you Y/N. And I’m sorry I made you feel any less than that” he kisses my cheek. His words felt more than friendly but the kiss on the cheek watered it back down to reality. That were just friends. This tension is something you can still feel. I’m also feeling a pool in between my panties. I press my legs together to relieve the feeling and then a familiar song breaks me out of my trance.

Break that dick bitch

B-B-Break that dick bitch

B-B-Break that dick bitch

I drunkenly yell and Erik’s eyes go wide. I begin twerking to the music unknowingly my dress rides up. Erik continues to pull it down making sure I’m not exposed. If he didn’t know I was drunk he definitely knows how. A smile is plastered on his face as I let loose to the song.

This is exactly what I needed after the week I’ve had at work. Before I know it I’m singing the lyrics to Erik.

“ Yo' nigga steady looking at me I'ma ride his throat” I rap in his face not even thinking about the actual lyrics. He laughs placing a smack to my ass something that’s happened before innocently but this smack has me electrified.

“Stop playing with me” his eyes turn dark and he pulls his thick bottom lip between his teeth. Signals send straight to my clit who’s dying for attention right now and Erik could- “what’s up mama”

All of my senses come back when he calls me that name. I frown my face up watching him stand up and above me. My neck cranes back as he towers over my short frame.

“Nigga you call her that but yet I’m supposed to get giddy?” I ask rolling my eyes

“Aww baby you sound jealous” Erik stands even closer to me pressing his erection straight to my stomach. My breath catches in my throat. I wish he were in my throat. “But this is what you do to me”

These drunken confessions won’t stand a chance when the sunlight appears so we might need to stop this now. Just then Willow comes back over clearly just as drunk as us. She grabs Erik’s face giving his a tongue filled kiss. This gives me time to step away and make my way to the bathroom.

There’s no line so I go right in and lock the door behind me. I look in the mirror at myself. I still look really good. Makeup still intact, clothes still fitted. Not too bad.

I huff and clean myself up after Erik has made a pool in my panties. I flush and wash my hands before exiting the bathroom. It feels like we’ve been here 24 hours when in reality it’s only been about 2. My feet don’t hurt yet but I know it’s coming. I make my way back to the section where I notice Erik is gone. I have a seat on the sofa for a moment when I notice a tall dark figure approaching me. Pearly white smile, short, waved hair, dark jeans and a blue shirt that makes his muscles stand out.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks. I shake my head allowing him to sit down. “My name is Kevin” he extends his hand to shake and I take it. Maybe this man will help me take my mind off Erik.

We continue talking and he tells me he’s in construction, he’s 32, and he has a son which threw me off. As we’re getting to know each other more I feel eyes burning into my body. I search while he’s in the middle of a story and lo and behold I find Erik at the bar watching me. Nose flared, jaw clenched, almost as if he can’t stand to see me talking to Kevin.

I roll my eyes and continue with Kevin watching him pull out his phone. “ I’d love to get to know you a little bit more and take you on a date” I pull out my phone as well and we exchange numbers. He stands up smiling after I text him and let him know it’s me.

“Would you like to dance?” He asks I turn back to the bar to see Erik’s gaze now pinned on Kevin. He begins trudging over to the section and a slight panic sets in.

“Sure” I stand up quickly grabbing his hand leading him to the dance floor before Erik powers through.

We find our way to the dance floor where the music absolutely takes over my drunk body. Other drunken bodies collide together to the beat of the music as well. We mix in with the crowd perfectly.

His body forms into mine as we dance together. My back pressed to his chest and I can already feel his growing erection on my lower back.

After what feels like an hour of dancing together he spins me around looking into my eyes. He leans towards me and panic sets in. This is too much. I lean back to dodge his kiss and he looks at me up and down. “You wanna get outta here?” His words are suggestive. Something I’m definitely not ready for with him.

“Nah my friends are looking for me” before he’s able to protest I dip out of the crowd and back to the section where I find Erik seated with a glare and his legs spread. I sit next to him in what feels like an awkward silence. Willow stumbles over damn near falling on Erik’s lap before draping her shoulders around his legs. “Baby let’s go back to your house.” she slurs.

“Yea I’m ready. Y/N let’s go” he hops up grabbing Willow standing her on her clumsy feet before grabbing my wrist. He pulls out me and her out of the club where he gets the valet to his matte black Audi truck. Erik places Willow in the backseat behind him where she falls over in the seat giggling. He puts her seatbelt on as best as possible and I take my time getting into the passenger seat. Earning another glare from Erik he gets in the drivers seat and we both click our seatbelts.

“Daddy do you have more alcohol” Willow asks drunkenly. I cringe at the nickname I thought about calling Erik so many times. She shouldn’t be drinking anymore but at least his house is only 15 minutes away from here so she’ll be comfortable

“I do” he answers. Silence falls upon us during the drive and before I know it we’re pulling into his sleek driveway. Erik shuts off the car before turning to me. I keep my sight on the 3 bedroom, 3 bathroom, 2 car garage house in front of us with a chocolate brown exterior and big wooden double doors to accompany us inside.

“I swear to God if you touch that door” he snarls. I roll my eyes earning another gentle grab to my chin that sends signals straight to my pussy. “Roll em again” his voice is low and his eyes are dark. His eyes dart to my lips as I pull them in my bottom teeth ready for his lips to explore-

“Baby are we home?” My stomach erupts in butterflies and not the good kind. More like roaches hearing willows voice. I step out the car ignoring his demand I even slam the door a little bit and walk to the door. I carefully bend down grabbing the spare key from under the mat when I hear footsteps behind me. I grab the key and push it in the door opening it. Erik carries Willow to the couch where she giggles.

“Baby play some music and I want a drink” she demands. I scrunch up my face already feeling the alcohol wearing off. I stand up going to his kitchen and he wastes no time following me. Erik sets up the speaker playing some music which drowns out the sounds of Willow giggling and beginning to dance to Megan thee stallion.

I grab the chilled bottle of Hennessy pouring 2 shots and throwing them both back in no time. Erika is behind me watching my every move. He pours 2 shots doing the same and just looking at me.

“You got something you wanna say?” I ask rolling my neck. In one swift motion his hands wrap around my neck and I shudder under his touch. His mouth comes close to my ears and I feel his hard dick poking my stomach.

“I don’t want that nigga touching you more” he plants a small kiss on my ear lobe and my underwear soak instantly.

“Oh but you can touch all over Willow?” I ask rolling my eyes. our eyes never leave each other as he towers over me.

I rid myself of his very missed touch and go upstairs needing some privacy. I go in the guest bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I need a hair tie it’s hot in here. I open the top drawer and gasp. Lo and behold Rosequan. I knew I left it over here but it damn sure wasn’t in here. I grab the rose and my drunken footsteps carry me downstairs. I have the rose in my hand but stop dead in my tracks to find Willow on her knees while Erik has a blunt in his mouth and she’s taking all of him in the back of her throat or at least trying to.

A small gasp leaves my lips and she stops and gives me an evil grin. Erik’s eyes snap open and he’s about to push her off until he sees me grabbing a seat directly in front of them. I lift my dress pulling it over my head and throwing it on the floor. I’m left my bra and panties as I take a seat placing both feet on the coffee table. His eyes never leave me as she continues bobbing her head along his shaft. Keeping my heels on for the added effect, my bra is next to leave my body. I begin playing with my nipples. The alcohol is completely washed over my every move. A grunt leaves Erik’s lips as Willow plays with his balls. This grunt doesn’t look like it was pleasure from her it looks like it’s from him watching me. I play with my nipples pulling my left one in my mouth as I run my finger over my soaked panties. He can clearly see the wet spot as he pulls his another drag of the blunt through his thick lips.

The music in the background is drowned out from the gagging that Willow is making. She’s making this look harder than it is. I turn on the rose and Erik’s mouth drops open. He sets down the blunt giving me his full attention. You wouldn’t think he was getting head from his current girlfriend the way his eyes are locked onto mine.

I pull my panties to the side pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth picturing it to be Erik. He pulls Willow up placing her on her back. He’s directly facing me as she’s under him. He grabs a condom from his wallet rolling it on his thick glistening length. He aligns himself with her giving her a rough thrust inside. Her screams fill the room and his gold canines and dimples shine through, eyes never leaving me.

“Ooohhh daddy you so big” she claws at his chest pulling his attention. It’s not long before it back on me as I draw in a breath as the rose suction to my clit. I use my other hand to pull at my nipple adding extra friction. My head rolls back as the toy assaults me in the best way possible. His breaths are getting deeper and his low grunts are getting louder. He wraps a hand around Willows neck the same way he did to me in the kitchen and it makes me arch my back.

“Yea you like that baby” he speaks through gritted teeth. My moan echoes throughout the house watching him plummet into her the way I want to be fucked. The question may have been for her but he continues looking deep in my soul. My eyes flutter shut as I think about him abusing my walls. “Uh uh open up mama”

My eyes shoot open watching him reposition Willow to where he’s in almost a gorilla stance. Her long legs wrapped around his arms and his hands digging into the leather exterior of the navy blue couch.

My orgasm is building and building quickly watching him thinking about all the things he would do to me. “Daddy you’re gonna make me cum”

He fucks her harder but doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking at her while her orgasm rips through her. The sound of her wails and his balls slapping against her ass are working in my favor with this rose.

My body begins shaking and my breath gets deeper. The fact that I’m under his spell and he’s not even touching me is insane. Erik continues bottoming out Willow bringing us both to the brink of an orgasm. I can’t even make out the words that I’m going to cum. My body just continues shaking and I feel an unfamiliar knot forming in my lower stomach.

“Mama you gon cum?” He grits out. He moves on his elbows letting her legs drop to the couch and pulls her hair pushing her face close to his chest. I nod just as she screams yes. Oh God im not sure I can take this orgasm it might kill me. “Cum for me baby. Make a mess with that pussy for me”

My legs want to close so bad but I can’t. I’d rather this orgasm kill me. My body jerks listening to his commands and Willows muffled screams are faint. Mine overpower everything as my juices shoot out hitting the couch, the coffee table and the floor.

“Fuck daddy I love you” she screams. Simultaneously he utters my name as his orgasm rips him to shreds.

“Fuck Y/N” he moans still pumping. My orgasm collects my soul as a prized possession and through blurry I watch Erik come undone as he’s still plowing through Willow. And then it all happened at once. But the second I hear my name everybody freezes.

“Erik what the fuck?” Willow is still drunk but she’s not incoherent like she was. I grab my things and slip them on taking off my heels due to my wobbly legs. Willow shoots up grabbing her clothes staring at Erik.

“You ain’t shit nigga” she yells leaving the house. He locks the door behind her and I’m headed towards the door when he stops me.

“Where you going” his voice is low again. His hands wrap around my neck pulling my lips onto his. He moves my neck up trailing his kisses down to suck on my neck eliciting a moan out of me “go upstairs and have that rose on that pretty pussy” I walk past him doing as he commands when he plants a smack on my ass.

Once I am upstairs and my clothes are off I hear his footsteps ascend. My heart races as I turn on the rose to the 3rd setting and placing it back on my swollen clit. I suck in a breath and my toes curl as I continue to please myself.

The door opens and I’m too deep into my pleasure to notice anything until a hand stops me pulling off the rose. Erik stands tall in front of me dick sprung up to his belly button. My mouth salivates and I bite my lip. He lays down on his stomach with the rose in his hand and pulls back the hood placing it directly on my clit causing an immediate reaction. My back arches off the bed feet planting into the mattress.

“Oh god” I cry out. My hands have a mind of their own as they scramble to try to pull the toy away from me as the pleasure feels like it’s too much for my sensitive bundle of nerves to handle.

“Move ya hand” he grabs my hand continuing to assault my clit. He adds to the pleasure by kissing and biting my thighs. That buildup doesn’t take long before I’m trying to move away from him as my body convulses.

“Daddy” I call out. He gives me a sweet kiss on my thigh.

“I know baby girl. Let it out for me. Let daddy hear it” my body jerks as my orgasm washes over me and him. Another waterfall squirts out wetting all over his face and chest area. Erik keeps it on me until I no longer have sound coming from my mouth. Just rough convulsions and my legs that I’m trying to close. Erik takes the toy off of my clit leaving me with rough aftershocks of one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.

In a split second his thick lips replace where the toy was latching onto my clit and folds like a pacifier sucking up every drop that I have to give.

My back arches off the plush mattress while he pushes my knees back to my elbows to get a better view of his meal “this pussy so pretty mama” he spanks the side of my ass before using his long tongue to dive into my walls.

My walls tighten around his tongue and it’s not long before my convulsions start again. I use my elbows to prop myself up trying to pull away from his heavenly tongue. My moans are uncontrollable as he laps up every liquid that comes out of me. My liquids branded with his name.

“Cum on daddy face baby” he moans keeping a grip on my thighs. I crash down feeling another wave of euphoria. My hands tangle in his dreads keeping him steady and riding my pussy along his beard bringing to the closest depth of heaven I’ve ever been. I feel my juices come out in another round of gushes as a chant of “fuck daddy” falls off my lips.

“Mhmm” he hums allowing me to use his mouth as a toy.

When I finally come down I’m dizzy. His eyes pierce me and the lower half of his jaw and his chest is soaking wet. I feel mangled in the best way possible but judging by the look in his eyes he’s nowhere near done with me.

“I’ve been dreaming about tasting you baby” he licks his lips before coming down planting a wet kiss on my lips. The taste of myself only revving me up even more. His dick stands tall at my attention but before I’m able to make a move he’s already guiding my feet to his chest. He pulls out another condom from the nightstand drawer rolling it on his length. It’s swollen ready for my touch. He aligns himself with my entrance and his eyes are locked into mine. He stops just before entering me and I’m not sure how long I can take this suspense.

“I don’t love her Y/N” he admits. He pushes into and my pussy opens up gracefully welcoming him into a warm tight hug. “I love you” he bottoms me out and I pull in a breath accompanied by a bottom lip between my teeth

He begins pumping and my hands can’t stop exploring his body. The body I’ve waited so long to touch. The body I’ve watched others mishandle and abuse. The body that was made just for me.

“I love you Y/N” he’s hitting my g-spot directly and my eyes roll to the back of my head. When I come to I grab the back of his head pulling our foreheads together.

“Erik I love you” he plants another passionate kiss on my lips sliding in and out of my walls. It’s like they were made for him.

“Now that we’ve established that” Erik stops pumping and raises up on his knees pinning back my thighs. He takes the rose and places it back on my clit this time adding the pressure of his dick still hitting my g spot.

“Erik” that earns me a spank to the side of my ass as he’s digging into my cervix in this best way possible.

“What’s my name” he growls biting his lip.

“Daddy”I call out. My big toe comes to his mouth which he openly accepts it intensifying my pleasure even more. “Fuck I’m gonna cum”

Just as I feel another earth, shattering orgasm, the rose has whipped away from me and his dick slides out of me, camming my body to jerk at V buildup and take away of my orgasm.

“You wanna cum baby? Beg me for it” I would beg this man for oxygen if I needed to.

“Please daddy please make me cum” any other man wouldn’t get this out of me but Erik is different. He’s made me cum at least 4 times and has always put my needs before his own. Even outside of sex.

He places me back into position thumbing on my sensitive clit. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he moves closer getting into that gorilla position. My nails dig down his chest and all sound is lost from me. The only sound that fills the room are Erik’s grunts and his balls slapping my ass this time.

My legs begin shaking and I’m watch his expressions he’s close. My eyes open looking him dead in his “cum with me please Erik”

This was all it took for the both of us to explode at the same time. “Shit baby” he moans still pumping us out.

Our orgasm has consumed us both as he pulls out of me and lays next to me. I’m already feeling sore but my pussy still purrs for his presence.

“I’ve always been in love with you Erik but I just didn’t think you wanted me” I rasp out. He pulls me onto his chest cradling me and stoking soft circles on my back.