#Namor of talokan fanfiction

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“The Offering” Part 2 of 3 (A Namor of Talokan Fic)

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Summary:

Lebadi has embarked on a two-year secret love affair with K'uk'ulkan on the high seas with a Wakandan houseboat she purchased for their clandestine hook-ups. All is well until their union is discovered.

NSFW. Smut. 18+. (6,254 words) Namor x Black Female OC

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"Baby, baby, baby… "

Evil Needle & Sivey—"Baby"

He liked to kneel before her and kiss her belly button first.

The indentation on her lower stomach seemed to be his activation button for Lebadi and she loved to stand over him, weaving her fingers into his soft black curls that crowned loosely around his scalp, still moist from the sea. The tip of his warm tongue dipped in and out and when he kissed the skin around her belly piercing, his dark brown eyes never left hers.

That was his way… always.

Touch. Kiss. Gaze up at her. Kiss again. Lick. Stare deep into her soul before sucking and tasting again, lowering his head to her sopping folds that plumped and bloomed open, revealing the sticky pink entrance to paradise. She learned over the two years of their forbidden courtship that he used those dark eyes to claim ownership of her. Every part of her. Cloying… fiery at times, and oh, so sensual, the sloe-eyed gaze of K'uk'ulkan demanded obedience. Submission.

She gave in.

The loss of will had her leasing a small houseboat in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Staying on the water was the only way to keep their liaison a secret from her world. He couldn't come on land without alarming her people, and she couldn't go down into his depths either, so they were forced to meet in the middle far off the Umkhombe Coast.

Anticipating his arrival was always the best part of their unions. She'd dance seductively on the deck, playing the erotic sounds of her favorite joot band, a style of Wakandan music that mixed instrumental sounds with dubbed vocalizations that played with the human voice in strange ways to evoke a hypnotic, romantic mood. Draped in a sheer azure cover-up with nothing else underneath except for a gold-hooped belly chain with matching bracelets on her wrists, Lebadi cranked up the swirling sounds and gyrated her hips with the syncopated rhythms. Tapping her bare feet on the deck with her arms dancing in the air, she snaked her body with sultry rolls of her hips to tease him from the sea.

Sipping on honey wine, she'd grab a handful of a mixture made from dried flower petals, spiced herbs, and brown sugar to rub against her shaved mound so that the scent of her juicy pussy was added. She called it her love offering and sprinkled it into the ocean, helping to entice his arrival sooner.

It always worked.

Humming and swiveling her loose hips, her eyes followed the line of the horizon illuminated by silver moonlight, waiting for the waters to part as her offering sank below the surface.

There!

A ripple breaking the tranquil ocean that grew into a wave rising to the starlight, his taut form bursting through a mountain of dark liquid, wings fluttering… behold… K'uk'ulkan. He flew high above Lebadi's line of sight, floating gently on a balmy breeze toward her, his dashing eyes never leaving her face.

Lebadi danced, twining her arms with slow sinuous motions that gestured for his company. When he landed next to her, she parted her sheer covering and fingered her folds, sharing glimpses of her wet arousal glistening like dew on a gossamer web across her fingertips.

"Namor…" she purred.

He closed his eyes and his nostrils flared, taking in the sweet odor of her swollen folds.

Down he went, on his knees, clasping desperate fingers on her graceful hips.

"In yaakunaj…" he murmured, sliding a fat wet tongue across her stomach before pushing his entire face into her pussy.

"Show me how much you love me, then," she replied with breathless abandon.

"Ch'ujuk," he whispered.

Sweet. That's what she tasted like to him. She kept that pussy sweet and delicious, like a ripe mango, eating plenty of fresh fruit and honey before traveling to see him.

Hot kisses slathered her clit with saliva and his mouth wasted very little time becoming reacquainted with what belonged to him. He sucked and licked her delicate parts, tracing wet silhouettes with an artful tongue tip. She gasped out loud, holding back her release until he told her she had permission to do so.

Standing up, Namor peeled off his skintight shorts, and she helped him unfasten his choker necklace. Tossing it on one of the bolted chairs set up for deep-sea fishing, he led her into the interior of the boat where the luxury stateroom awaited their in-depth union. He slid his fingers on the pearl clasps of her cover-up and pulled it off. Slanting his head to align his mouth with hers properly, his warm belly rested upright against hers, turning their bodies into writhing, serpentine creatures yearning to become one flesh… one being.

The interlocking of their tongues breathed life into her clit and it came alive between her thighs, thumping a staccato rhythm that made her pussy throb in anticipation for deep-rooted dick that would take her far beyond her stimulated senses.

Lebadi dropped to her knees and engulfed his thickening length into her greedy mouth, slurping his dick like it was the last bit of nourishment she would ever have between her full lips. Her neck worked his girth as it stretched her lascivious mouth, making her cheek and jaw muscles exhausted from handling such a thick erection. She made his dick shiny and licked around the head where pre-cum spilled all over her tongue. Namor tasted like the sea and promises of something smoky and rich that she couldn't get enough of. He threaded his fingers through her textured hair, twisting into the heavy locs securely before yanking her head back so her eyes stayed fixed on his face. Fisting his dick, he pressed it against her painted lush mouth, forcing her to lick away the spewing of clear arousal that had his lips twisted up with pleasure.

The man his people called K'uk'ulkan hated surface dwellers.

But he loved her.

The cognitive dissonance was never lost on Lebadi, even with all the libidinous, erotic things he did to her wanton body. She became a willing concubine under his magic touch. He was unpredictable. Dangerous. Irresistible. Their forbidden love was an addiction she couldn't be without. They were both from cultures that prided themselves on secrecy and discretion. Being practically invisible to the rest of mankind kept their people safe… and yet, they chose to be reckless with one another. It made their love illicit and delicious.

His fingers grazed against her cheek as a clap of thunder boomed above them.

"K'iibal cháak," he said. "The thunder… it will bring a strong rain."

"There was a ring around the moon. It won't rain until three days from now," she said.

He sniffed the air.

"Sáamal," he said.

Tomorrow. It would rain sooner than what the gauzy, reddish ring of light around the moon told her. Rain meant poor weather on the water, no lazy day of sunshine, and swimming with him in the open ocean.

He lifted her in his arms and placed her lovingly on the berth they would share. His dick pointed at her with a raging hardness that needed careful tending. She parted her thighs and used her fingers to push open her folds for him. The thick vein on the top of his erection showed the severity of his need. His slit wept pearls of pre-cum onto the berth. His regal bearing looked mystical in the low candlelight she had illuminating the quarters. He crawled onto the bedding and wedged himself between her legs. Gripping the heft of his dick securely, he twisted his fingers under the thick ridge of his frenulum and pushed the wide tip against her slick opening. Her pussy throbbed, letting him see the pink entrance wink open. The sight of it excited him more, and he held his slit closer to her as sizzling ropes of thick cum shot all over her, drenching her folds. It was so hot that she hissed with the intense feeling, wanting more. He gave it, cumming all over her clit, drowning it with a whiteness as creamy as icing on a cake. Namor groaned out loud and aimed his release toward her stomach, where warmer streaks painted her dark brown skin, pooling into her belly button before turning clear and messy all over.

Lebadi whimpered and played with his cum across her vulva. She spanked her glossy folds and Namor growled with pleasure deep inside his throat. Fingering her pussy, she licked his cum off of each fingertip like it was a sugary glaze. He dipped his finger into the sticky heat and traced it along her lips until she swallowed it all. Pushing her legs open wider, he parted the curtains of her inner lips and penetrated the deepest part of Lebadi, forcing the whimpers of happiness to ring in his ears, ushering a pleased smile to his face that lit up his eyes as well. He cradled the side of her neck and pulled out, swiftly thrusting back in again to make sure he hit her spot just right and she clawed his back to let him know he made it.

Linking her ankles around his waist, she panted as he stroked her walls, seeking new pleasure points to rub against, plucking out heavy moans from her mouth. At one point, she couldn't even close her lips, the delicious tugging against her clit weakening her hold on his shoulders. Arching her back, she sought his right earlobe and bit the pointed tip that was so sensitive to the touch. Namor groaned and pistoned his hips faster, the soft wavy pubic hairs of his groin mingling with hers until everything was frothy and wet with sweat and her slickness. The friction caused her to pee a little from the pressure inside and out, but her lover didn't care. He accepted all offerings from her body, everything became lubrication and a sign that he was putting in the necessary work to please her.

The churning water outside couldn't create more waves like the ones he made between the joining of her thighs, fucking her until she was cross-eyed and the cultivated coils in her thick hair flattened. His lips tilted up at the corners like a crescent moon then, pleased with her breathy sighs and pleadings for more until a strange shadow clouded his dark eyes. He stared at her primrose pink opening surrounded by the rich raven brown of her vulva, adoring the contrast of colors her body created compared to his sun-drenched sienna brown. Licking the pebbled nipples on her breasts, Namor thrust forward and cried out her name, his orgasm transforming his face into such sublime beauty that Lebadi wept under him, breaking apart all over his sturdy length.

His warm sweat fell onto her and cooled within seconds. He stayed inside of her pussy, filling it with more cum until he was satisfied that she was sated from clenching all over him.

Namor rested his head on her breasts. His breathing became soft as she fingered his hair. They fell asleep together just as light raindrops fell outside, making a gentle patter on the houseboat's roof. Both of them had been wrong in predicting the weather. No matter, though. Their entangled bodies basked in the afterglow of lovemaking.

The rain splattered harder on the roof.

Lebadi woke up with Namor still asleep on her chest, looking all serene and cozy while she listened to the rainfall outside. The houseboat rocked on the water and she wondered if they should move more inland to avoid larger waves.

His body had cooled on top of hers, and she reached for a thin blanket to cover them.

She stopped.

They weren't alone.

The shadow of a person stood across from them in the stateroom. The candles had burned out, and the moon had shifted its position in the sky, making it difficult to see who watched the forbidden lovers sleep. Lebadi shook Namor awake and his senses went into overdrive immediately. He rose from the berth, blocking her body from the intruder.

"Ba'ax ka beetik?" said a muffled woman's voice in Namor's language.

Namor picked up a small lighter and held it against the wick of a large yellow candle resting on a small wooden dresser. He spoke to the woman with an irritated tone.

"Táan in chan weele'—"

"Jach u yoojel tuus," the woman replied.

Namor flung a dismissive wave of his hand to the stranger and she lunged for him, coming into the light. Most of her face was covered with what looked like a green and blue turtle shell. Her skin was a pale blue color, too, a sharp contrast to the dark wet hair that hung past her shoulders. She had eyes like Namor's. Intense and angry.

"Ko'x!" the woman shouted, grabbing Namor's arm.

He shoved her back and Lebadi jumped out of the berth, grabbing for a pair of panties and a tank top lying across a chair.

"Is this your wife?!" Lebadi screamed, more embarrassed than angry.

Namor lowered his head before shaking it.

"She is not my wife… eetbak'el… same family… my cousin. Namora."

Namora tilted her head and stared at Lebadi with narrowed eyes. Her voice sounded guttural and mean.

"Bix a k'aaba teech?" Namora spat out.

"Do not answer her," Namor said.

Lebadi held her own name on her tongue as Namor commanded. Namora took a closer step, and she moved behind Namor for protection.

"I can't tell you my name," Lebadi said.

"Ma' tu na'tik," Namor said.

"She doesn't understand for real, or are you just saying that to fool me?" Lebadi asked.

Namor grabbed Namora's arm and pulled her outside onto the open deck while still naked, sliding the door shut behind him. Lebadi waited on the berth and listened to them argue. Their passionate voices raged with loud aggression for over an hour. When silence prevailed, she opened the door and stepped out to check on him. The rain had tapered down to a light drizzle, despite the grouping of menacing gray clouds at least a mile away in the sky.

Namora sat on one of the fishing chairs and Namor sat next to her on the other one. Lebadi reached into a cooler near the sliding door and pulled out two bottled waters. She handed one to Namora.

"Uk'ahech? A k'át uk'ul?" Lebadi asked, hoping she pronounced the words 'thirsty' and 'drink' correctly without starting a war of words between the cousins again.

Namora shook her head and waved her hand.

"She can only drink underwater. She can't breathe up here," Namor said.

"Oh," Lebadi said.

She put the bottles back in the cooler and stood near Namor.

"Is everything okay? Why is she so upset?" Lebadi said.

Namor reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. Namora jerked her head away as if the show of affection disgusted her.

"What is going on?" Lebadi asked.

Namora reached for a reed-thin necklace that looked like it was made from an abalone shell. She blew on it, but no sound came out that Lebadi could hear. His cousin dashed from the chair, leaping onto the upper edge of the vessel with her arms bowed to dive into the cold depths. Namor flew so fast that he caught Namora in mid-air before she even touched a curling whitecap. The wings on his ankles carried them high above the houseboat. Lebadi watched Namora struggle in Namor's powerful grip.

In the water, a blast of air from a blowhole caught her attention. An orca with a massive dorsal fin circled the houseboat as the Talokanil fought above it. Namor dropped Namora into the ocean with a loud splash and the orca swam to her.

"Namora!" Namor shouted down to her.

Namora threw one arm around the dorsal fin and pointed at her cousin with the other.

"Sáamal!" Namora shouted and the orca dove under a wave, allowing the sea to swallow them up.

A crack of thunder boomed, and bright swords of lightning clashed together, brightening up the sky, and transforming her lover into a deity lost to the world floating above her. Lebadi rubbed her arms as a fresh shower of rain poured down. Shaking her damp hair, she returned to the stateroom and changed into a warm robe. She used a towel to dry her tresses that clumped up into tight spongy curls. Namor met her in the small kitchenette and watched her make a fresh cup of ground Jabari Mountain coffee. She offered him some, but he turned her down, studying her face for a long time.

"Why did she come here? And why did she mention tomorrow?" Lebadi asked.

"She has seen me like this before."

"Like what?"

"In love."

Lebadi mixed sugar in with her coffee and sipped it with her back against the stove.

"So I'm not your first surface dweller girlfriend?"

"You are."

"Have you been married? Have children?"

"You never asked me things like that before."

"Because this has been a fun fantasy while we were alone. Someone knows about us now… and I realize we are really strangers. Fuck buddies."

Namor slid his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his, sliding his tongue out before they connected. He sucked on her probing tongue and did the same to her lips, forcing waves to tumble in her stomach. His kisses were always slow and demanding. The man knew her weakness with him. She pushed him back.

"I want to know more about you, Namor. Will we just hook up on the ocean every three months when you make time for me?"

"We are not what you say… fuck buddies."

"Answer my question. Have you ever been married?"

"I have."

"What happened?"

"She died."

"Did you have children with her?"

"I did. They died too."

"How?"

"They grew old and died."

Lebadi blinked her eyes a few times and tilted her head as if that made the understanding easier.

"What do you mean? How old were they?"

He moved away from her and lowered his head, contemplating his answer.

"Namor?" she said.

"My wife lived to be ninety-eight. My daughter eighty-one… and my son… seventy-nine."

"I don't understand, you… you're close to my age. How do you have children older than you?"

"Lebadi… I have lived for nearly five centuries."

Lebadi laughed and threw up her hands, turning away from the bullshit. A warm hand slid up her thin robe and held her shoulder. Namor turned her to face him.

"I am telling you the truth—"

"You told me you were a mutant. That explained the wings and your other abilities… but now you're an immortal?"

"How do you think I know your language and so many others? There was a time when your people were not so secretive."

His eyes challenged her to doubt him. She couldn't. He could fly. Breathe underwater. Had the strength of many men, and could summon creatures from the deep.

"My people named me after an ancient god. They believe I am the return of him and I have cared for them like they were my very own children. I have lived many lifetimes under the deepest parts of the sea and lost more than one family. Colonizers have brought pestilence to my people… stolen land… destroyed so much. They continue to do so, all over the world-"

"If you hate surface dwellers so much, why come to me? You could've left me alone after that first time we met."

"I could not forget you… could not keep you from my mind. Your people are like my own. They want nothing to do with the outside world, and that makes you different."

"What are saying? You want to live a lifetime with me, too?"

Lebadi held her breath inside her chest. She curled her hands between her breasts and Namor cuddled her in his arms, peppering her face with tiny kisses.

"Namora is angry because she doesn't want me to hurt anymore. She has been alive long enough to know my last wife and the pain it caused me to lose her. After my first wife passed, I stopped having children. I had two more wives after her, and I made a vow to take care of my people and never have a woman again. Until you. My love for you clouds my eyes every day that I am by your side," he said.

Lebadi's eyes welled up, and he kissed away the tears that dropped like rain onto her cheeks.

"You are worth the pain… teech k'abéet ti'teen—"

"I need you too, but this is so much to take in all at once," she said.

"Tell me you love me."

She pressed her forehead against his.

"In k'áatech," she whispered into his parted lips.

The edges of his mouth ticked up into a smile, and he spanked her backside, making it jiggle. He rubbed on her bottom, lifting and separating the round mounds in his hands, squeezing them to enjoy the softness.

"Take this off," he said, fingering the top of the robe.

She undid the belt, and he circled her waist, lifting her up on her toes, his warm naked body evaporating the rain from his skin as it absorbed her heat too.

"Namor, what happens tomorrow?" she said.

"Namora will come back."

"For what?"

He walked her backward on her toes toward the stateroom. She pressed down on her heels to stop him.

"I don't want to talk about that now. Let me love you, Lebadi… your skin is like honey in my mouth, I want to lick all over your body…"

He nuzzled the side of her neck where fleshy immortal lips sucked and kissed chills down her spine and into her toes.

"Let me love you," he said.

She gave in, as he knew she would.

His morning loving was as good as his nighttime lust.

With her head down and her ass up in the air, he took her with long strokes from the back as she rested her head on a pillow at an angle where she could watch his face. His lips quirked up with tension and his right palm pressed down into her lower back. Her pussy squelched and became a gushy ride. Namor slapped her rump hard and used his right hand to palm her left ass cheek as he glared down at her throwing it back on him with frisky twists of her waist. He glanced at her face as if to question what right she had to have a pussy that good on his dick. She arched her back further, and he cursed at her with words that were too filthy for him to translate into Wakandan.

"Fuck me…" he panted.

"I know you like that," she grunted, shifting her hips and widening her thighs to let him sink deeper.

His fingers slid to her hips, and he gripped the supple flesh to anchor himself. He gave quick thrusts that just rested at the entrance of her pussy and she pouted, needing all of his thickness to make her feel full and stretched. Her toes lifted and teased the feathers on his ankles at the quill, which was highly sensitive to touch like the tips of his ears, stimulating another part of his erogenous zones that she liked to play with on his body.

"Fuck my pussy… s'good baby…," Lebadi moaned as she bit into the twisted, sweaty sheets.

Namor teased her entrance until she whimpered his name and he plunged into her, cumming while he did. He drenched her walls, then pulled his fat dick back out and ejaculated onto her ass and back before stretching her out again. His cum painted her walls with creamy warmth. He reached around and played with her clit, two of his fingers strumming a love language that only her stimulated nerves could translate. It was enough of a conversation to have her walls throb back with an answer. She squealed with pleasure and he laughed with obvious delight.

Afterward, they went for a swim.

The sky had cleared up enough to let a few rays of sunshine peek through. He dived below with fish netting and left her alone on the boat for an hour, returning with swordfish, shrimp, and mussels for them to enjoy at lunch. He cleaned and prepared the seafood. She seasoned and cooked it. They ate with their fingers and she showed him how to eat sticky yellow rice balls with a soft fermented flatbread that she made the day before. Namor liked the sour, porous texture of the bread, stuffing it down his throat with the fish tea she made from the swordfish.

Later in the afternoon, they moved the houseboat to another area when the water became choppy and unpleasant. Sleeping nude on lounge chairs, Namor watched her skin darken into a rich mahogany hue. He made her lay on top of him so he could run his hands all across her back and ass, fingering her pussy from behind until she came all over his hand with a sticky release.

Lebadi took a nap inside the stateroom for a few hours. She needed to recharge from a day of lovemaking and eating well. Waking up alone, she found several loose mothers of pearls wrapped in a large seaweed leaf fresh from deep sea oysters. Smelling the odor of good cooking, she rose naked and joined Namor in the kitchenette. He stirred a thin soup of clam meat that she liked for dinner. Holding up a spoon for her, she tasted it.

"Good… ooh, and hot," she said, waving her hand in front of her open mouth to cool the soup on her tongue.

The sun was low in the sky, announcing a gorgeous sunset that saturated the ocean backdrop with blazing red and deep mauve.

"Oh, shit!" she said, rushing back to the stateroom and changing into a short azure blue tunic over a bikini bottom. She dug into one of her travel bags soon after.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She strode back into the kitchen, clutching a small sachet of her annual offering to Mama Wati. Bypassing the beach and surfing with friends again in Birnin S'Yan that year, she wanted to honor the mother of the sea with Namor by her side.

"Come," she enthused, tugging on his hand to follow her.

Lebadi prayed over the small bundle before untying it and dropping some of the mixture into the sea. She gave the rest to Namor, and he sprinkled it with amusement.

"This god brings you joy?" he asked.

"She does."

He touched her hair, which had shrunk up into tightly coiled spirals from the seawater. She twirled a thick lock of hair and stretched out its length, letting it bounce back into place.

"Children in Wakanda who are born with extra curly hair, like me, are said to be children of the sea. My grandmother was a child of the sea, and so was her grandmother before her. I come from a long line of Mama Wati babies!"

Namor leaned over and kissed her cheek, then held her face with both hands to kiss her longer. She was about to wrap her arms around the nape of his neck when the houseboat listed to one side, knocking them off balance. Namor flew with her a few feet above the deck to keep her from falling. The surge of water lifted the boat and brought it back down roughly, and from Namor's arms, Lebadi witnessed a pod of humpback whales breach the surface and rock the houseboat even more.

"K'uk'ulkan!"

Namora called to him as she pulled herself up onto the back of the closest whale. Namor put Lebadi back on the houseboat and two tall Talokanil men climbed onto the boat, giving her menacing looks. Namor barked orders to them and the men stopped moving, watching their god fly onto a whale to confront Namora. There was no reasoning with Namora and she leaped onto the boat and grabbed Lebadi by the throat, tossing her far over the side. The icy splash punched into Lebadi's back as the dark waters covered her face. She held her breath, watching the light from the surface fade from dark blue to rising ebony the deeper she went down. Flailing her arms, she tried to swim back to the surface, her lung capacity helped by her years of surfing and having giant waves crash over her before she could get more air. Her loose tunic floated above her, tangling her arms and covering her face. She pulled it off and pushed her arms to her sides, swiping away the weight of water crushing her.

Kicking her legs, Lebadi's ascent was thwarted by another Talokanil woman below her, who grabbed her ankle and dragged her further below. Seconds later, Namora was upon her, her hands choking the life out of Lebadi. Bubbles rose out of her mouth and she became woozy from the lack of oxygen in her lungs. She almost blacked out to the haunting, melodious sounds of whale song, until Namor fought off his cousin and the other woman to drag her away. Lebadi noticed a great number of his people holding spears and hugged up close to the whales, using them as living ships to travel on.

Namor burst through a wave and flew Lebadi to the houseboat. The rage on his face frightened her and he screamed at his people. Most stood on top of the whales wearing the same breathing apparatus Namora had to use above the surface.

Namor pulled Lebadi behind him and faced his people. Rapid-fire conversations ricocheted around them as she tried to pick out any words that she knew from being with Namor. It was clear to her that the posse revered him even as they pressed to retrieve him, but his actions upset them. She upset them by claiming his heart.

Namora had a pleading quality to her voice, and it softened Namor. He kept glancing back at Lebadi, and the longer his people spoke to him, she could see his body language changing. His shoulders slumped, and a light went out of his eyes. The voices grew louder, more incessant, and Namor threw his head back as if the stars above them had all the answers he needed. Then… they started singing to him.

Even the whales emitted sounds that Lebadi could feel flowing across her skin above the surface. The haunting melodies of the Talokanil mixed with the vibrations of the sea creatures they rode upon brought Lebadi to her knees. She wept from the pure beauty of it.

Namor looked down at her with a torn expression. Namora climbed back onto the boat and held her hands before him like the wide maw of a shark about to attack. The others made the same hand symbol toward him.

"Líik'ik Talokan!" Namora said.

Namor closed his eyes and Lebadi felt a trembling soul shift inside of him. Namora nodded her head and the other Talokanil on the houseboat dropped back down into the water. Namor sauntered over to Namora and held her face. Only their eyes spoke in a secret language they knew. He stroked his thumb across Namora's forehead and slowly flew up into the sky alone, raising out his arms.

One by one, the whales and the sea dwellers departed.

Namor came back to her side, and she knew.

It was over.

His people came first and she would become a lost footnote to the seductive antics of a foreign god who wanted to fuck a Wakandan woman for fun.

She ran from him, hot tears spilling in fat drops onto her arms as she wailed and beat her fists on the berth. He tried to comfort her, but she thrashed her body to get his hands off of her.

"Get out!" she shouted, burying her wet face. Snot and copious tears clogged up her nose and throat.

He wouldn't leave her side and stroked her back.

"You said I was worth the pain!"

"They are my children."

"I am your woman! They can have you forever, but I only get this one lifetime, Namor! Just this one!"

He pushed back the springy curls on her forehead. His soulful eyes bled into her spirit and she covered her face to hide all the pain that soaked her heart. Namor spooned around her and she wilted. Crying and pleading meant nothing. His duty to his own came first. Always.

They slept curled into one another. By daybreak, he was gone.

Lebadi ate leftover shrimp and rice for breakfast and tossed all the uneaten food into the sea. She started the quiet engine of the houseboat and programmed it to take her back to the Wakandan coast, where she would leave it at the marina rental space she kept for the past two years. Leaving the seaside was the best thing for her sanity.

Returning inland for good would help her forget.

Lebadi couldn't believe the message on her kimoyo beads.

Her former college roommate, Okoye, stared at her.

"Well, did you make it or not?" Okoye said.

Sitting inside an artsy café together, a table full of half-eaten shredded beef and coconut curried rice between them, Lebadi stared at the formal rejection of her application to the Dora Milaje corps.

"I was rejected," Lebadi said.

"Why?"

Okoye's voice went up an octave as she swiped the floating image of the document.

"I failed the physical apparently," Lebadi said.

"How? You seem fit to me… wait… what is that look for? Did you already know you would fail?"

"Not when I applied, but…"

"But what?"

Okoye nudged her wrist with her hand.

"Talk to me, Lebadi. We were supposed to tag-team in this thing."

"I know," Lebadi said. "I just failed. You'll have to become a Dora without me."

"Rhino shit! You always wanted this. We went to school purposely cultivating our education to prepare us. You did an internship in the palace for Bast's sake!"

Okoye lifted a finger to her lips.

"Call them and ask what happened. They have to give you specifics."

"No, they don't. I'm not qualified. I'll find something else to do."

"Like what?"

"I can be an executive assistant to a senator, or maybe a personal assistant to a Council Elder," Lebadi said.

Okoye's kimoyo beads glowed a neon blue.

"Dammit, I have to go. I'm picking up W'Kabi from his mother's house. His hovercraft was fixed at the shop finally."

"When is he going to buy proper transportation? He's had that hovercraft since he was in high school."

"You know how stubborn he is. He'll have that thing until he's an old man," Okoye joked.

She touched Lebadi's hand again.

"Do you want to go out for drinks later? Talk some more? I feel terrible about this news."

"No, go on and spend your evening with W'Kabi. I'll call you later if I find out anything more."

Lebadi didn't bother to stand up. She let Okoye bend over and kiss her temple before she dashed out to give the love of her life a ride to the bike shop. When Okoye was out of the café, Lebadi tapped her kimoyo again and swiped the second page of the form letter for the Dora Milaje corps. There was a listing of categories that could be checked off to explain why a candidate was rejected. The one that prevented her from becoming a Dora Milaje for that recruitment cycle was smack dab in the middle of the page.

Pregnancy.

Lebadi sighed and paid for the food by swiping her kimoyo beads over the dishes and stood up. The thick-layered skirt and jacket she had on barely concealed the baby bump sprouting from her middle. Four months along and she was already showing. Fatter in the face, too.

Walking alone in the downtown area of Birnin Zana, she turned her head to look over at the double palace. Okoye would get through Dora Milaje training easily. Her father was a lieutenant in the military and a decorated pilot. It didn't hurt that her mother was an interpreter for King T'Chaka Udaku either. The dream was for Okoye and Lebadi to protect royalty and travel with the king. She rubbed her belly and sighed. There were plans in place for her to live secluded in Birnin S'Yan and work discreetly as a monorail operator until the baby was born. No one knew she was carrying the seed of a foreigner, a mutant king who once said he loved her, but left her anyway. They had been careless with sex, and now she faced a daunting future.

What kind of child did he put inside of her?

Part 3 Finale HERE!

A.N.:

There will be a part 3! I’m working on several fics at once so be ready! And once I fnally see “Wakanda Forever” y’all in trouble!!!

Reminder:  I switched up the spelling of the actual Mami Wata to Mama Wati to give myself space to reshape my ancestor’s actual African/African Diaspora spiritual water being into a fictional Wakandan one.

[artaxerxesthegreat]

I FINALLY KNOW K’UK’ULKAN’S NAME!!!!!!!

ITS CH’AH TOH ALMEHEN!!!!!!!

[thegreatestsandwich]

Baby, all at once, this is enough (Namor x f!reader)

(Still obsessed with him, don’t judge me)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader

Word count: 574

Summary: You gave him one of the gratest gifts he could have ever asked for.

Warning: Nothing to be honest, just the must pure of purest fluff, I think.

A/N: What can I say? I love him so much that I will write for him to the day I die

Translations:

In yakunaj - My love

Jats'uts - beautiful

In reina - My queen

Meent in ts'áaik teen asab ti' le ba'ax je'el k'áatik, Nib óolal in yaakunaj. - You have given me more than I could ever ask for, thank you my love

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received!

Namor enter quietly to his quarters, not wanting to disturb you if you were resting. He remembered the moment he saw you laying on his bed, so pale and weak, that the thought of loosing you terrified him. He just couldn’t stand seeing you like that. He couldn’t. You were everything, his strength, his heart, his soul. He was a changed man because of you.

You opened your eyes at the sound of him, a smile immediately forming on your face. “Hi.” You whispered.

“In yakunaj.” He kneeled at your side, his hands quickly grabbing yours, kissing your palms. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

You laugh. “I have everything I could ever need at the moment.”

Namor smiled, even after all this time, he waiting for you to ask anything, you would always deny that offer. “You are glowing.” One of his hands left yours and brush away the few strands of hair that glued to your face thanks to the sweat. “Jats'uts.”

“So you are saying I was not beautiful before?” You said, the smile still on your face. Namor shook his head in amusement. “Have you seen them?”

“Not yet.” He kissed your forehead. “I wanted to see you first, needed to make sure you didn’t leave me.”

“As if I could leave you alone.” You whispered back.

As if on cue, Namora entered smiling, two little bundles tucked on her arms. “K'uk'ulkan.” She nodded at Namor, turning quickly to you. “In reina.”

Namor left your side for a moment, walking towards Namora, gently taking away one of the babies. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his son, cradling him as gently as he could. You had given him so much more than he ever expected to have. Much more than he deserved.

Namora soflty place the baby girl on your arms, her fingers tracing the features of the infant with so much wonder before taking her leave, leaving both parents to bond with their children.

He walked to you, sitting on your side. Your head rested on his arm, as he watched both of his children. “Meent in ts'áaik teen asab ti' le ba'ax je'el k'áatik, Nib óolal in yaakunaj.” He kissed your forehead, making you close your eyes. Namor couldn’t help the tears that began falling down on his face, looking back and forth between his children. “I vow to protect them, to protect you.”

You hummed, a bit tired from everything. “You don’t have to vow anything, I know you will do it regardless.” Your tired eyes watched how your husband brushed his hand over your son’s bald head. At that moment, you love him even more than you had before.

“The others want to meet them soon.” Namor whispered against your hair, noticing how your eyes began to close. “I manage to appease them for a little bit, but I am afraid that they will demand to know them soon.”

“I know, Namora didn’t leave my side until they were born, I think she even threatened the midwife when she made a mistake.” You laughed, your eyes finally closed.

Namor hummed in approval. “Remind me to thank her later.” He put his son on the basket, the one that the old women from Talokan had given him before, repeating the action with his daughter. “Rest, in yaakunaj, you have earn it.”

“Stay.” You muttered against his chest.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

[wint3r-h3art]

Heart of the Ocean

Summary: Ku'ku'lkán musing thoughts after he returned from the surface.

Word count: 1.2K

Warning: Brief smut in the beginning. Mostly just Namor being a worryward. Romance undertone.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

A/N: just some writing exercise with the need to write soft Namor being a loving and protected partner. I enjoyed writing the little blurb, and I do hope you do too. If you enjoyed it, comment and reblog mean a lot. 

*** Do not copy, repost, or translate my works anywhere else !!

“In yakunaj, [my love]” he whispered into your ears as his powerful hips surged forward, bringing you with him as he was lodged deep inside you. 

Your nails dug into his powerful back, your eyes fluttered, and your lips trembled as your body moved with his. Your legs shook slightly. They were sore and ache from what felt like hours since your king returned from the surface. 

Your body warmed and flushed beneath him. Sticky, slick fluid leaked out where your body joined with his–a reminder of how many time he had already made you come, yet it was never enough. Every movement he made brought desirously aches and burns with him. You couldn’t ask for more.

You were his offering–a gift from an unconventional circumstance. He had made it clear from the beginning that he had no desire to force you to stay with him. Namora would have taken you under her wings if you wished, but what he didn’t know was that you volunteered to be his offering in the first place. 

Your people were dying, and the elder made a decision to gift  Ku'ku'lkán himself an offering to appease him, and perhaps offer mercy to your people. You volunteered of course. You expected the Feathered Serpent God to spirit you away to his realm–perhaps devoured you, but what you didn’t expect was to be whisked away by the handsome, bronze skin man, adorning in gold and jade, offering you his hand and taking you away instead.

He spoke in his native tongue again, but you were too cockdrunk to understand what he was saying as your rapture drew near. There was an urgency to his lovemaking. It was primal and hard–almost exhilarating by the way he left you breathless and sore.

Your wall began to flutter, and Ku'ku'lkán’s movement became erratic as he rutted into you hard and so forceful that if he wasn't holding onto your hips, you could have easily skitted across his massive bed. He grunted, pumping himself into you a couple of more times before your body shook and convulsed beneath him, even then, your king was still moving inside you, driving himself so hard that you felt like you were being split into.

Then a grunt left his lips as his movement stopped already. His nails dug into your skin as his muscles strained and corded. A rush of the familiar warmness coated your inside. And your king remained where he was. His perfect full lips pulled back in a strained expression, revealing his pearly white teeth while he pumped the last remnant of his release into your womb.

It felt like ages before he finally pulled himself back. Your body shook slightly when you felt his cum dripping down your thigh and onto his bed. He watched you still in a daze from his handy work. A smirk curved at the edge of his lips. 

“Ma'ach in túukulkech [I miss you]”, he said softly before placing the softest kiss on your lips, his thumb stroking your swollen stomach till you shivered. His voice was like a gentle tremor of the earth, each word rolled off his tongue, warming you like late summer air. There was something about the gentleness he often shows behind the closed door. Out there to his people, he was the living God–their fearless leader. To you, he’s your king, your paramour.

You laid there, exhausted, spent in the most perfect way. Every cell in your body buzzed and hummed as your body was enveloped in the warmness that is the afterglow. Your king molded his body into yours, pulling your body into his until his larger form covered yours.

The smell of sweat and his masculine scent lingered and permeated–a familiar of his presence. His breathing was soft and steady as you both laid there, his palm still laid on your stomach.

“Ma'alobech? [Are you well?]”

You nodded and you feel the king nuzzle into you, burying his face into the back of your neck. His breath tickled your skin. You could feel his anxiety practically seeping out of his skin as you both laid there. Even if this wasn’t your first pregnancy, Ku'ku'lkán had always been worried about your well-being. You weren’t built like his people and the risk of carrying a child was always far greater for a surface dweller. 

“Ma' a preocupes, in yakunaj. Ma'alo'ob aniken [ Do not worry, my love. I am fine.]”

But he couldn’t relax despite your soothing words. The worry had always been there, eating away at the back of his mind, gnawing at him constantly. He was so used to having solutions to everything, but for the second time, you managed to render him hopeless as the child inside your womb grows. 

His thought was quickly disrupted when you turned to face him. You reached out to touch him first, placing your palm over his chest, feeling the way his heart was beating. Ku'ku'lkán watched you. Devotion filled his gaze, soften those hard brown eyes and soften them like the first drop of rain touched upon the parched earth. Somehow he looked at you like you were the sky itself. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in your native tongue, unaware of the kind of worry that was plaguing his mind. You were still learning his language, struggling to understand here and there, but your king has been kind and patient, slowly teaching you words and phrases so you can communicate with him better. Certain words were easier to learn than others, of course, especially the ones that were reserved for you and him in the privacy of his chamber.

“Like what, my love?”

“I do not know, but you look troubled. Tell me, Ku'ku'lkán, what’s trouble you?”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he stared ahead. His strong arms draped over your body. He allowed his hand to linger at the swell of your behind, tracing left to right as if it was to ease his anxious mind.

“Ma' le ba'al, in yakunaj. Ko'ox weenel [It’s nothing, my love. Let’s go to sleep]” 

You opened your mouth to ask him more, but your king leaned in and covered your mouth with his, swallowing all your worries into a toe-curling kiss. He said no more after that as he stroked your back and soothed you until you were asleep.

He of course was awake, staring up into nothing. Occasionally he would let his fingers trace your skin–physical proof that you were in fact alive and breathing. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips by the way you were softly snoring beside him. For that brief moment, he felt the warmth of joy spread in his heart, and whatever worry plagued his heart dissipated. 

For a creature so small, you were the heart of his ocean.

[scribblingapparition]

El Dios de la Brisa (K'uk'ulkan x reader) (1)

Summary: You are a passionate Marine Biologist who has lived in the Yucatan Peninsula for some time now. An accepted and welcomed member of the local village, you've been working through the heartache of losing your mentor and friend. You were not prepared for how your life would change and the discoveries you would make.

[Word count: 5,654]

. . .

There were many aspects of your profession that you adored. 

You loved the time you spent doing fieldwork, gathering information about the diverse wildlife that inhabited the oceans and letting hours pass you by while you swim among them. You loved aiding in the restoration of habitats and looking at problems from all the different perspectives brilliant minds brought to the table to find solutions. You adored rehabilitating injured animals and felt a great sense of accomplishment and pride each time you released an animal back into the water where it belonged.

All of that is your driving force behind wanting to make a difference and take responsibility for the planet we all share and have to take care of.

There were threats to that passion.

Phone calls.

“The funding that your mentor left you won’t last an eternity. Listen, I know you are grieving her loss. We all are. But you need to stop finding excuses to push aside the real work that needs to be done elsewhere. Your technique of lab grown coral has completely revived the coral reefs in Culebra. You really impressed everyone in Puerto Rico with that. We need you here.” Enrique sighed, you could hear him shuffling papers as he spoke. “You’ve taken all her things back to her family and gotten a look at what she was working on in Yucatán. It’s time to move on.”

“It’s really nice of you to call in every week to repeat the same thing. Really keeps the conversation interesting.”

“You always have to take things the wrong way.”

“I’m not taking anything any sort of way. I’ve already told you, there’s something interesting here that’s got my attention and I have no intention of leaving until I’ve understood as much as I can. Funding or not, I’ll figure it out. I always do. Like I did before her, alright? So, thank you for the call but I don’t need you worrying about me. You or anyone.” 

You didn’t enjoy being the sort of person that spoke to others like that but it’s what they brought out of you. You came from nothing and you had no one. Everything you had ever earned in your life you achieved through hard work and perseverance. You put yourself through school, through college, and with no help from anyone you managed to be taken under the wing of one of the world’s most brilliant marine biologists: Altagracia Alvarez-Delgado. 

Paralleled stories and a common goal had united the two of you and together a real change happened in the world of ocean conversation. Your mentor had a way of inspiring crowds with her mastery in storytelling and she could create empathy in the hearts of others that got them to care – to truly want to join the cause of being responsible, intelligent, beings that could change the planet for the better. For everyone. 

You had never admired anyone more. You never took a moment for granted, you never took her advice for granted, and you never took the many lessons you learned through her grace and humility for granted. You don’t experience loss when you don’t have anyone; her unexpected death sent you through a downward spiral you could not have predicted. It was in her honor that you traveled to her village to deliver the news of her passing and the last of her belongings. Her family had welcomed you, encouraged you to take up residence in her old cabin across the bay from the pyramid and gave you advice on how to find peace and comfort when you felt like you would never have it again.

It had never been in your plans to stay.

Now you couldn’t seem to leave.

You were naturally a curious person, always were. The draw to the sea called out to you like the hypnotizing melodies of a siren song. It didn’t matter if you never truly had a home because as long as you were by the ocean and allowed to get lost underneath its waves you would feel at home. There was something about the bay that called out to a part of you that was in tune enough to listen.

The first couple of months of living among the villagers you had taken to conduct undisturbed research of the area. Multiple times a day, Ines Delgado (your mentor’s mother), would spot your pack resting in the same place it always was in the shore line while you dove to the depths with your gear to spend time around the reefs and exploring the extensive cave systems. Each time you shared your discoveries with her over coffee. 

There is one thing you could not get over.

“Ines, sinceramente, he viajado por el mundo y he visto todo tipo de ecosistemas y hábitats. Con la forma que están los océanos ahora, muchos de ellos están en diferentes estados de sufrimiento, pero estos…los que veo aquí son casi perfectos.” You had told her both in a state of disbelief and admiration, knowing that whatever your mentor had started here was working incredibly well. “Lo que su hija ha comenzado aquí es brillante. Ella es brillante.”

(Ines, sincerely, I have traveled around the world and I have seen all types of ecosystems and habitats. With the way the oceans are now, a lot of the ones I have seen have been in different states of suffering, but these…the ones I have seen here are almost perfect. What your daughter started here is brilliant. She is brilliant.)

Shaking her head, her hands trembled slightly due to her age as she brought the cup to her lips to drink. “Es la protección de el que la ha guardado.”

(It is all due to his protection, that has kept it safe.)

“Quien es el?”

(Who is he?)

“K'uk'ulkan. La serpiente emplumada existe. Lo he visto. Inspiro miedo en mi, cuando lo vi. Estaba vestido en trueno y oro, plumas y perlas. Alas en sus pies y rabia en sus ojos. Espero que nunca lo tenga que ver otra vez. Mi niña, tienes que tener cuidado por dónde exploras cuando estás debajo de esas olas. Rara vez estás sola. Nada existe en el océano que la serpiente no permita.”

(K'uk'ulkan. The feathered serpent exists. I’ve seen him. He inspired fear in me, when I saw him. He was dressed in thunder and gold, feathers and pearls. With wings on his feet and rage in his eyes. I hope to never have to see him again. My girl, you must be careful where you explore when you are underneath the waves. Rarely are you alone. Nothing exists in the ocean that the serpent does not allow.)

You promised Ines you would be careful. In a world where aliens can snap their fingers and change the course of life in the universe it never hurts to be aware and respectful of the myths and the gods others believed in for you never know what you might encounter. You had smiled and taken her hand in yours when the words left your mouth and a promise to be extra careful was made.

☀

It did feel as if you were breaking that promise now as you left behind your phone, not wanting to answer any more annoying phone calls, grabbed your pack and gear and headed up the trail to the base of the pyramid.

There was no escaping the heat. 

It was simply impossible.

There was little solace to find in the shade provided by the thick foliage of the trees and the ocean breeze did manage to move leaves in gentle sways enough to reach you but your prayers to Kinich Ahau sadly went unanswered as the heat of the sun did not lessen. There were guided tours around the pyramid during the busy seasons where tourists invaded the peninsula in hopes of seeing, but never truly appreciating, the history that can be found in this land. One of the guides had befriended you and had mentioned a cave opening surrounded by an arch of hieroglyphics that housed the clearest water in the area.

It was believed to be a gateway to an ancient city forged in the depths of the ocean where the sunlight could not reach and many who still believed in the ancient gods left offerings for K'uk'ulkan.

Not only that but there were said to be schools of fish that pulsed light like eye catching signals that were rumored to be found deeper within the system. It had been mentioned a while ago and you had always had it in the back of your mind to see if you could spot and observe the fish. 

What better time to do it than after a call reminding you that you might have to leave this paradise behind soon because of funding, of all things?

It had taken some time to reach your destination as it was not a well traveled path. Making sure you were hydrated and ready to go, you began to suit up. Your diving ensemble was state of the art. The suit itself worked wonders for helping you camouflage to your surroundings allowing you for the best sights of the marine life that happily swam around you after they got used to your presence. You didn’t have to wear a heavy tank that limited your time in the water thanks to the mask your mentor’s genius friend had invented and the fins you swam with actually worked pretty well when you were in a hurry.

Making sure your pack was hidden away in case someone else decided to explore the area, you carefully stepped into the water. The mask you wore covered your face entirely allowing you the luxury of not having to let your eyes adjust to the water. You did close your eyes for a moment, however, to take in how amazing it felt to be completely submerged.

This was home.

You were beneath a pyramid that was built somewhere along the 3rd and 9th AD by a powerful and rich civilization, miles away from where others would consider your actual home, sinking into an unknown darkness without any fear of what might be waiting for you. So many others would not find this particular situation comforting at all but you did.

The water called to you.

Like the soothing song.

This was home.

- 

“Mi niña, tienes que tener cuidado por dónde exploras cuando estás debajo de esas olas. Rara vez estás sola. Nada existe en el océano que la serpiente no permita.”

(My girl, you must be careful where you explore when you are underneath the waves. Rarely are you alone. Nothing exists in the ocean that the serpent does not allow.)

-

Detaching the flashlight strapped to your thigh, you brought it up to shine at the cavern walls. You had been swimming for some time now, alone in the darkness, and though you had encountered some animals none of them were the glowing fish the tour guide had mentioned. What you had found, however, were intricate hieroglyphics that seemed almost untouched by time. Your eyes widened as you took in the absolute artistry in front of you.

How had they not been eroded by the currents after centuries?

You touched them and allowed your fingers to trace through the creases of the smoothly carved images. Had these been above water at some point? What did they mean? You could only make out a few images. Pushing back to get a wider view and moving your hair so nothing obstructed your vision, you listened to the sound of your own breathing as you moved the light further down; eyes eagerly searching for new wonders when suddenly your breath caught in your throat.

Eyes. You had seen eyes staring up at you and the moment your light hit them, whatever it was moved out of the way quickly. They weren’t the eyes of a fish, it looked human, it looked like a person.

You immediately moved your light all around you, twisting to see if you could catch a glimpse of what had run away from you. You had felt the water move and push against you as whatever it was swam away but it was back to nothing. It was just you in the darkness and the sound of your racing heart but you were no longer fooled. You were not alone.

Years of diving experience have made you become extremely well aware of your surroundings. You had to be when you spend as much time as you do in the ocean where the animals that lived there have evolved over millions of years to perfectly exist within the places you were not fully equipped to be in. That’s why you weren’t shrugging off what you saw as a figment of your imagination or a construct of your mind adjusting to the dark.

You saw a man. The eyes of a man.

And now you were seemingly alone but there was something there, something in the quiet shadows and you could all but feel his gaze. 

Movement came from underneath you and into the path of your flashlight calmly wandered a nurse shark. Large, brown, and gentle; most definitely a nurse shark. Your brain began to give you facts about how many different species of sharks are cave dwellers and how nurse sharks are most definitely one of many different kinds found in the peninsula. You tried to calm your breathing to the almost lazy movements of the animal before you who was not frightened at all. It was home, it felt safe.

Yet you could not just simply calm your mind enough not to worry.

There it was again. You could feel something beneath you. Remaining calm, you closed your eyes as tightly as you could, reminding yourself of so many different situations you had been in where the danger level had been much higher and never had you felt this much fear. Never once had you feared even the biggest ocean creature but a man, this man…

You pointed your flashlight beneath you.

Below, curling up ready to attack, was a giant serpent.

Its tongue extended past its wide open jaw and around the head sharp triangle-like spikes circled around it in layers like a lion’s mane. The light only reached so far but it was clear that it was posed in action and ready to devour you whole. 

K'uk'ulkan

Fear moved you before your mind could rationalize the giant feathered serpent to be nothing but a statue. You had never complained about the quality of the swimming fins you wore but quickly kicking your feet to get away from your perceived threat, you had moved too quickly right into a protruding hieroglyph that smashed into the shield protecting your face, your mask. You didn’t think that you hit it hard enough to crack but water began leaking into your mark by your eye, causing you to move both hands quickly to try and stop it. Your flashlight drops into the darkness. You cannot believe how unprofessionally you are acting and how stupid your decisions have been when you know better. She taught you to know better.

The water was now gathering beneath your chin. Your body was pressed against the cave wall, one hand trying to cover the crack in your mask while the other maneuvered around your bags around your waist to find something to fill the crack. Your hair bunched in front of you as you moved and during that movement something that went down to the cave floor and retrieved your flashlight.

You bet it wasn’t the nurse shark as the light turned off and the darkness did what the serpent wanted to do.

It swallowed you whole.

You centered yourself as much as you could and the water stopped as it reached your lips thanks to the plaster you had which you securely placed on top of the damaged part of your mask. It was not a permanent fix and you needed to get out of the caves. Now. Your heart was racing and you could feel your hand trembling as you gripped another flashlight from where they were strapped to your thigh but before you could turn it on strong hands grabbed your own and pulled you forward.

Instinctively, you thrashed against their hold hoping to escape but it felt like trying to pull your arms away from steel. You were pulled forward again and in the darkness your hands reached out and you felt…were those beads? A necklace? A chest? There wasn’t much time to determine what anything was before you were pulled further into the darkness. Whatever had you moved with the ease of an eel and the strength of a shark. It was disorienting being pushed around in total darkness with the water inside your mask splashing around, making you cough it out when your hazardous breathing accidentally made you swallow some of it. You could do nothing but let yourself be led.

You should’ve listened more carefully to Ines.

It felt like an eternity later but eventually you saw light. This cave you did not recognize but that mattered little as you were released and you began swimming towards the surface. You must be somewhere close to the surface as it seemed to be more than an air pocket where you were in. In the center was a platform, a perfect circle made out of stone that sat above the water and you gripped onto the edge with all your might ignoring the pain as you raised yourself onto it.

Your mask was the first thing to be removed as you moved to the center of the circle, coughing up water and breathing lungfuls of air. You were greedy after almost being sure breathing air was something that would never happen again. On your back, eyes facing the stalagmites reaching down towards you from the cave’s ceiling, feet still protected by the fins, and mask discarded next to you. You counted yourself lucky to be alive.

You had said it in your call to Enrique what seemed like forever ago even though it was just that very day. There was something about this place that refused to let you leave and your need to discover it, to understand it, had almost landed you a watery grave in the place you felt most at home.

Turning yourself onto your stomach, your wrists hurt where you had been grabbed and dragged through the water. Whatever it was, whatever that humanoid was, had the strength of a killer whale. You sat up and looked into the water. There was nothing there at first but then out of the water emerged a king.

You didn’t know who he was, what he was, but instinctively deep down you knew you were in the presence of something ancient, something above a human. It was like the water both clinged to him and helped him rise; a pure display of power just right there before your eyes. His hair was darker than the shadows of the caves, his neck adorned with gold and pearls, his eyes contained the rage of a summer storm, and on his feet…wings. 

Fluttering white wings. 

It can’t be…

He spoke in Yucatec Maya that much you were sure of. The pronunciation and formation of the words you were familiar with as the locals had tried to teach you one several occasions. It was too fast for your less than basic knowledge to pick out any words you knew but you did not need to be fluent in his language to understand that what he was saying certainly wasn’t good.

Then he surprised you.

“You have wandered around my home as if it belonged to you.” The anger in his voice was palpable yet he remained right where he rose from the water. “For many months, you pushed past the boundaries set in place and ignored the warnings to satisfy your own greed. My people have kept a close watch on you. You have trespassed for the last time, surface-dweller. What do you say for yourself?”

“I…” You struggled to find words, any words, in the presence of his might and fury. It may have been the incredible situation that you were in that made your mind override the need for survival with boundless curiosity and amazement. It was the only explanation you could think of for the way you sat up to look directly at him while your mind went wild processing and connecting what you now had knowledge on.

“It’s you. You’re…him. She was right. They were right! They truly had seen you. But the stories span hundreds of years, that must mean you’ve been alive for quite some time! A-and the reefs, the fish, they’re in abundance here. A thriving healthy community amidst so many disasters. If your people were watching me then-it was their work! I knew it! There was no way everything could be that pristine with the level of tourism, even with the help of the locals. It’s unfortunate to say that but it-it makes sense, you-”

He roared in Maya t’aan; though you may not have understood him exactly, you did understand context and his call for silence as his patience diminished. The cavern walls amplified his distaste as he stepped onto the stone circle before you. You bowed your head in fear of looking into his eyes again and kept your hands close to you in an attempt to stop them from trembling.

“My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I am a marine biologist and I never once intended to trespass into your territory. I have dedicated myself, my life, to the betterment of the oceans.” You explained through a shaky voice as he neared you, eyes firmly placed on the stone before you. “I may have wandered too close to places I should not have been at but I swear to you I meant no harm. Not to you, your people, or any creatures I may have encountered. Meent' uts, K'uk'ulkan.”

((Please, K'uk'ulkan.))

It felt to you as if an eternity had passed in the quiet that followed.

He wasn’t unaware of the state of the surface world. To be prepared for your enemy meant keeping yourself knowledgeable on their movements, their advances, their whispers. The reports he had gotten from his Talokanil is that you had an understanding of the oceans in ways they had not seen other surface dwellers have before. The ocean creatures calmed in your presence, almost welcoming it, seeking you out when you entered their home. You did not seem hostile or aware at all of their existence yet you chose to explore many of the routes created to lead to Talokan. You could never reach it. Not with your mask and suit that would do nothing to protect you from the pressure of the deep or the frigid temperature.

Your good deeds preceded you and just as your curiosity led you, unknowingly, to them it was his curiosity to meet the one his scouts spoke of that had led him to you.

“I have many names. My people call me K'uk'ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor.” He spoke with a deadly tone, causing your eyes to close as your mind jumped to the worst. “You have caught my attention as many surface dwellers have not. You are not welcomed in these waters and it will do you well to remember my words. Nothing roams my oceans, close to my people, without my permission and you do not have it.”

☀

There were many aspects of your profession that you adored.

Phone calls serving as reminders that your funding was running out was not one of them.

Being banished from the place you most loved by an ancient feathered serpent god was not one of them.

It had been a full moon cycle since that fateful encounter and you had taken a lot of that time to think about what the future held for you. It was difficult ignoring the call of the sea but that time had been spent being more involved with the village and carefully listening to all of the parts of their culture they chose to share with you. There were those that believed and those that did not heed the tales of the elders. You did your best to remain neutral but interested.

He had disappeared into the water after forbidding you from telling anyone of his existence and of what you had now come to know. Your mask had also mysteriously vanished. You had made it back to your cabin by the time the sun dived deep beneath the waves and for the rest of that night you could not sleep.

“Estos turistas! ¡No tienen respeto por nadie ni por nada!”

((These tourists! They don't have respect for anyone or anything!))

That’s how you had been woken up by a young boy named Mateo that you had befriended during your time in the village. He told you that there had been a big boat, painted in bright colors, that had been rented by some tourists a couple of times over; the boat was filled with men disturbing the wildlife and the boy had seen them wrestling a sea turtle out of the water. Mateo had shouted at them to stop from the shore but that did nothing as they did not listen.

The wind blew your hair behind you as you steered your boat in the direction of where the boy had seen the turtle go after it had been thrown back into the water. They’re fast swimmers and with only the light of the moon it would be a miracle if you spotted the injured animal but you had to try.

You were around the area of where the boat had last been seen by Mateo and looking back at the bay, you had moved farther away than they had been by a lot. But this is where your heart had guided you and you never doubted your instincts. You prepped the boat and lowered the anchor, quickly working on lifting the heavy ramp off the side of your little vessel preparing to have to lift a decent sized sea turtle. The bay was the home to many beautiful green sea turtles and though they were stunning, they were large heavy animals. Usually a rescue like this would be done by a team but it was just you.

You in the middle of the pitch black ocean you were told you weren’t welcomed in.

You were steady as the boat rocked and you held onto the railing of the steps leading down as you looked all around you and placed your hand in the water. This world had many living in it with special abilities forced to be kept secret for their safety. You did not believe you had any. You were sure there was nothing special about you until your early days on the field proved you wrong. You couldn’t communicate with sea animals but they did seem to come to you when they needed help. 

Too many things happened that had no real good explanation for you to brush them off as coincidences.

The ocean was a completely different world from the one you lived on, now more than ever you were aware of that fact. Regardless of what you believed was real or not, you knew you could not go searching for the injured one so you closed your eyes, gripping onto the side latter until your knuckles hurt, and called out to the animal.

You felt ridiculous.

You weren’t special. 

It wasn’t going to work.

Moments passed with no result and you had to fight the urge to just jump in the water, knowing the search would not be fruitful without your equipment. Your eyes watered and you scoffed at yourself becoming emotional. It had not been easy spending a month away from your research, away from laughing underneath the waves as fish darted around you and intelligent little octopi tried to steal your stuff. Just as it had not been easy to lose the one person who understood your need to be in the water.

A head with large eyes and hexagonal shaped markings popped out from the dark and soon the entire body came with it. The shell had been cracked, almost cut into. It wasn’t unheard of for tourists to try to remove the shells off the turtles to keep them as souvenirs and it angered you that it had even been attempted.

Your gasp of surprise quickly became gentle words of encouragement.

“Hi, beautiful, hello. It’s okay. It’s okay. You found me and I’m going to help you, okay? You’re a big girl aren’t you? I gotcha, beautiful. You’re so smart, all turtles are. I’m going to take care of you, let me just-” You had turned to face the deck and yelled.

K'uk'ulkan stood on the deck of your boat. Water rolled off his body and the moon silhouetted his imposing figure, allowing the pearls around his neck to glow on their own. The wings on his feet shook the moisture off of themselves and in his hand he held a scepter (or was it a spear, there wasn’t much light) crafted of gold and jade.

“You scared me! I didn’t even hear you-wait, your majesty, wait! I didn’t go back on my word. I need your help. Please.” You pleaded while frozen to your spot on the stern. “She’s hurt. She came to me for help. I can’t lift her onto the ramp and then onto the boat alone but if you could help me. Not for me. For her. Meent' uts, K'uk'ulkan.”

You had said it again. You had begged the god the same way you had done in that cave.

For the second time he was inexplicably moved to spare you.

The green sea turtle was young and healthy, you estimated around 200 to 250 lbs just by her sheer size. He showed absolutely no difficulty lifting up and placing the animal in the containment tub.

“I kept my word, you know.” You said as you quickly moved to grab a flashlight to inspect the shell. “I didn’t step into the water once. But this is my job, what I’m passionate about. I can’t just sit back and stay inside my cabin knowing there’s someone out here that needs me. If this gets me killed, so be it. Just let me make sure she gets treatment, an open shell like this is dangerous. I don’t want an infection to set in.”

You lost yourself in your work. Quickly diagnosing what you could without your equipment, writing it all down, and making preparations to get back to the cabin and contact the right people before you noticed that he was still there; watching your every move as you made it, concealing whatever he felt behind the strong confident body language of a god.

“You are different.” His head tilted to the side as he allowed himself to see you, to truly see you. “Her pain is soothed by your touch and you called out to her in the water. I saw you. How?”

“No, I didn’t do that. I was just, um, trying something. It’s a coincidence.”

“How did you know where to guide your boat in the darkness?”

You didn’t know what to say. 

“I’ve got good instincts. I have to take her back to land and call the closest rehab facility. Will you allow me that much?” You asked, not wanting to rush him and ask the deity that may or may not decide to end your life to leave so you could get the turtle to safety as quickly as possible.

He bowed his head in agreement and you did your best not to sigh in relief right in front of him. It was left unsaid but it was understood and this would not be your last encounter and that it would not be the last time the conversation was brought up. You didn’t think about that now, or you tried not to at least, as you started bringing in the ramp and calling up the anchor to start your return to shore. 

You had a job to do.

The god’s sentencing would have to wait.

☀

You had caught the attention of a god unlike any on the surface world had before.

There were no early signs of how much your life would change in the simple refusal of leaving the place you were slowly carving out a home after a lifetime of denying yourself one. The things you wished you could change were how you had gotten there; you would do anything to bring back your mentor. The past could not be changed but the future could be forged into whatever you desired.

There were so many stories to tell of how you got to where you are and you intended to share them. It’s been a long journey to get here.

To your boat sitting alone in the middle of dark waters, welcomed, with moonlight shining overhead.

With you sitting on the stern, hand in the water, calling out to the depths to the king that had stolen your heart as if it had always been meant for him.

It always took a moment and you could not see into the inky black waves but you could feel him approaching and your heart melted when a hand took yours within the water and laced your fingers together.

“You came.” You smiled, using your other hand to move his hair away from those eyes you loved so much.

“I always will when you are the one calling. Join me. I have much to show you.”

☀

((A/N: I'm excited to be actually inspired to write for the first in so many years! This is part one of many one shots that won't be tied to each other so they can be read in any order! If you got to this point and you want to talk about the movie, I'm just one message away! L'iik'ik Talokan!))

[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt. 2

Part One: The Stranger

Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 8k (lol whoops)

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, PLOT

Summary: Namor isn’t the only one who has been searching for his general. Thanks to you, Namora’s life was saved -- but when your connection to the two strangers brings you face to face with a hostile group of government agents, you find yourself in the crossfire of a much bigger conflict.

A/N: OMG first and foremost thank you for being here, thank your for coming back, and thank you for reading. This has taken me a bit longer to post because I’ve been pouring over it every day for a month, trying to get it just right. Comments, feedback and reblogs mean THE WORLD to me, so feel free to show some love and as always please be kind!

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

There is a growing unrest inside you.

Days have passed since your encounter with Namor after saving the life of his general, Namora. Two mysterious strangers who have left your mind reeling with questions, unrelenting and unquenchable as a flame that dares to spread like wildfire, consuming your thoughts entirely.

You repeatedly play the memory over in your head with no rational way to explain what you witnessed; her blue skin, his superhuman strength; the curious metal that outfitted both of their armor; how they disappeared into the vast open ocean.

"Something on your mind?" A fruit vendor asks, snapping you back to reality. You stand in the middle of the bustling village marketplace, doing your best to orient yourself quickly.

“Your head is — how you say…? — in the clouds, yes?” The vendor asks in her best English, smiling politely at you as she stands next to her cart, eager for you to buy something.

"Is it that obvious?" You joke with a tired laugh. "Two, please."

You scoop up a pair of fresh mangos and hand the woman some change from your pocket. She kindly accepts it with a nod of appreciation. Carefully sliding the fruit into your bag, you return a nod of your own.

You continue to walk through the market, the damp air carrying an aroma of local cuisine and sweat fills your lungs. Weaving your way in and out of aisles created by vendor carts, you feel a sense of calm as you watch the locals interacting with one another. There's beauty to be found in their sense of community.

Typically, you would gather your needed food and supplies and then be on your way back home, but today as your mind wanders, so do your feet.

Meandering down another aisle, your thoughts drift back to Namor, specifically the morning you found him on your front porch. You can practically feel the warmth of that sunrise as you imagine its light illuminating his dark eyes. You picture the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth when you asked him if he would come back, a moment you hold onto tightly. The memory gives you optimism that you will see him again someday and hopefully have the opportunity to ask him more questions.

Lost in thought, you hardly notice a small crate sticking out a few inches further than other accompanying carts in the aisle. Tripping your foot as you walk by, it nearly tumbles you to the ground. You manage to catch your balance and your breath before face-planting into the dirt. Immediately turning to apologize, you find an elderly man seated behind the crate, his back leaning against the wagon behind him and his eyes shut.

The man is slender and his head bald, save for a few wisps of hair above his ears. Most of his body is covered by a knitted green poncho, well-worn and fraying along the hem. To both your relief and surprise, he seems completely undisturbed by your clumsy collision with his crate of goods. Unsure if he’s even awake, you reach down to help reset any items on the crate you may have displaced.

Your jaw drops slightly as you see the contents on display. Spread out on a velvet brown tablecloth sits a small assortment of beautiful books, scrolls, and other documents. Admiring them, you reach out and push back one of the scrolls, revealing a gorgeous hand-sketched portrait of the island.

“Did you draw this?” You ask, impressed by the skill of it.

“Mmm,” He hums, shaking his head, "But I made very good trade with the man who did.”

You find his answer odd, though slightly amusing, considering he never opened his eyes to see which piece you were referring to. As you browse the rest of the items, a particular book stands out to you. It’s different from the rest of the collection — small and bound in leather, although the leather itself is worn and brittle-looking. You pick it up and inspect it closer. The binding is loose, the pages aged and tattered.

“Careful with that one. Very old.” The elderly man says, his eyes remaining shut. “Nearly 400 years. Got it in a trade with a visiting merchant from our southeastern sister islands."

How does he even do that? You wonder as you start delicately flipping through the pages of the book. You make it about midway through when you open to a particular page that makes you freeze, your heart nearly jumping out of your throat. Your eyes widen as you bring the page closer to your face.

It’s a crude drawing — basic, two-dimensional, and very old like the man said, but the likeness is undeniable. Depicted is the figure of a man. He dawns a grand snake-like headpiece and is grasping a spear. His body is adorned with jade and other metals. Sharp ears. Winged ankles.

"Excuse me!” you ask the elderly man with an exasperated breath, practically jumping over the crate as you lean forward and shout, “These!" You flip the book around to show him the open page, pointing excessively at the picture and the glyphs below it. "What do these say?!"

Your voice is eager and desperate, emotions you hardly try to hide.

The man's left eye slowly squints open.

“Only few are still legible.” He says, shrugging.

“Okay, yes, but the ones you can read, what do they say?!” You plead.

He sighs, opening his other eye and leaning forward slightly to get a better look. After a moment, he leans back against the wagon and closes his eyes again.

"King. Serpent. God. Monster."

You hang on to each word he tells you. Turning the book back around, you bring it back up to your face for another closer inspection.

"How much?" You ask, ready to make a deal.

The elderly man cracks one eye open to look at you for a moment as he considers his price, then wordlessly points to your arm with a feeble finger. You follow his gaze down to the small beaded bracelet around your wrist — the last reminder of your life before coming to the island. You hold your arm up to him, making sure you understand correctly. He nods politely, and without hesitation, you untie the bracelet and toss it to him.

"Nice doing business!" He says with a wide grin as he holds up the bracelet. You are already nose-deep in the book as you turn on your heels, quickening your pace as you head home where you can study more carefully.

Maneuvering your way out of the market to the outskirts of the village, you hardly need your eyes to guide your feet home. You take advantage of the remaining daylight to examine the pages as you walk, turning page after page and scanning for any information about Namor and his people. There’s little there, the book seeming to be a very old, mingled account of island history and lore. Seeing as you are not a historian and certainly not a linguist, it’s difficult to decipher. Still, you do your best to piece together what you can from the pictures.

King. Serpent. God. Monster.

The sky begins to dim. You can hear the faint roar of waves as you near the coastline. It’s too dark to see much detail on the pages now, so you carefully tuck the book into your bag as you step over the trunks of palm trees. The path beneath your feet gradually turns from brush to sand, and soon you find yourself walking along the familiar stretch of beach that leads you home. You stare out into the darkness, listening to the rhythmic pattern of ocean waves and breathing in the salty evening air. The moon hovers above the water, burning brightly as countless stars paint the sky behind it.

You continue walking in the darkness, but there’s an uneasiness building in your gut the further you go. You should be nearing home by now, but no lanterns have come into view. You always light lanterns before heading into town. They burn for hours in your absence so, by the time you return, you have light to guide you. All you see now are shadows and silhouettes that dance against the tree line, and every sound and indiscernible movement has you on edge.

It’s not until you are nearly a stone's throw away that the bungalow materializes in the night. Your stomach twists as the wind blows by you, rustling your hair and causing the snuffed-out lanterns hanging from your porch to creak as they swing back and forth. You hear shuffling, and small beams of light sporadically shine through the cracks of lumber that make up the walls of your home.

There is someone inside.

An alarm goes off in your head, screaming at you to get out. As quietly as possible, you begin backing away. Eyes fixed on the bungalow, you take one step back. Then another. Then another. Then — thud.

Your stomach flips and your throat tightens. While you pray you’ve miscalculated and miraculously made it to the tree line in three short steps instead of thirty, you feel the unmistakable presence of a body directly behind you.

“Going somewhere?” A deep voice growls menacingly. It belongs to a man, his tone gruff, although you can’t quite make out his accent. You do, however, feel the blood drain from your face as you slowly turn your head, finding what is quite possibly the largest human being you have ever seen. Dressed in black military-grade tactical gear and armed with enough ammo and firepower to take on a small army, you know there is no fucking way you are getting away from this guy.

The man grabs your arm and forcefully drags you toward the bungalow. Once up the stairs, he pushes you inside and releases his grasp. You rub your arm and look up to find another man standing in your kitchen, his back turned away from you as he stands hunched over your table. He’s dressed in similar tactical gear and has a walkie-talkie hooked to his belt. A lantern burns next to him as he seems to be pouring over some sort of map.

“Sir,” the man behind you bellows.

The man at the table straightens his posture and turns around to face you both. His hair is buzzed and his face is stubbly, with a thick prominent mustache that stretches across his upper lip. He seems a bit older, and by the ‘sir’ formality, you are fairly confident he is in charge.

“Ah, we were wondering when you would be back.” He says in a sly tone, his accent American.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?” You respond in anger to the unwelcome visitor.

The man takes a sweeping look around the place, then his eyes come back to you.

“I think we can agree that “house” is a bit of a loose term.” He responds with sarcasm, a knowing look on his face. You continue to stare him down, unresponsive to his quip. The man loosens his shoulders and smiles at you. “Where are my manners? Agent Barrett.” He reaches his hand out, offering to shake yours.

You don’t move a muscle.

There is an awkward moment of silence, then Agent Barrett’s hand retreats. He turns, beginning to pace around your tiny kitchen. The room is in rougher shape than usual, clearly ransacked by whatever search was conducted before your arrival. The agent picks up a small roll of gauze from off the counter and holds it up.

“Tell me,” he says, inspecting the bandage material closely, “have you had any visitors recently?” His gaze quickly flicks over to you, an eyebrow raised.

Your pulse quickens as your blood turns to ice. Your mind immediately flashes to Namora floating wounded in the water; to Namor breaking down your door; to the two of them disappearing into the night. You put on your best poker face and shake your head.

“There’s no one around here for miles,” you explain, trying to be as convincing as possible. “You should try more inland towards the village. Most tourists, if any, stick closer to town or retreat to the far side of the island where—“

“Oh, she’s no tourist.” Agent Barrett chuckles, cutting you off. It feels insulting as if your suggestion were so preposterous it was borderline humorous.

She. He is looking for Namora.

Setting the gauze down next to the sink, Agent Barrett turns and walks over to you.

“You’re certain you haven’t seen anybody unusual around here in the past few days?”

He’s standing much closer now. Something about him makes your skin crawl. You eye the gun strapped to his hip and doubt it is for self-defense. Again, you shake your head.

Barrett sighs and gives you a disappointed smile.

“Okay.” He says softly while nodding his head. He backs away from you as the room lingers in silence. You allow yourself to take a breath, but the relief is short-lived. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

On Barrett’s cue, the large man behind you grabs your shoulder and kicks the back of your legs, dropping you hard to your knees. With his free hand, he yanks the bag off your other shoulder and tosses it to another man who emerges from the doorway to your bedroom. He catches the bag and immediately starts rummaging through it.

“Hey—HEY!” You shout, “What the hell are you—“

“A woman!” Barrett yells. “Pale blue skin. Very skilled swimmer. Four days ago, she single-handedly took down three UN-sanctioned vessels in the middle of the goddamn Atlantic! Three! Now where I’m from,” he crouches down to your level, aggressively getting in your face as he drops his voice lower, “that’s what we call an act of terrorism.”

Adrenaline overtakes your body as you feel your heart beat so intensely it threatens to break right out of your chest. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Barrett’s henchman searches your bag. He pulls out the mangos and tosses them on the floor. Then, he grabs the old leather-bound book. Turning it over in his hand, he looks at it for a moment and tucks it into his belt.

“She was wounded,” Barrett continues, calling your attention back to him, “and our intelligence indicates she washed up somewhere along this shoreline. That's where her trail goes cold. And as you said, there's no one around here for miles. No one, except you."

His implication is obvious.

“This woman, where is she?” He makes a last-ditch effort to convey a friendly tone, but you can hear his patience dwindling. "And please don't make me ask again."

You stare at him coldly, lips sealed together. You’re not telling this man a damn thing.

"Mmmm," is all he grunts, his eyes dropping to the ground. He heaves a heavy sigh as he pushes against his knees to stand up. Once on his feet, Agent Barrett stares at you for another moment before nodding his head to the agent behind you. The next thing you know, you are suddenly being pulled up by your hair, the man’s grip tight against the back of your neck as he turns and pushes you out the door.

Your hands clamor to his as you struggle against him to relieve the painful tension pulling on your scalp, attempting to release his grip on you. But the man is too strong and drags you down the stairs of your porch with ease. You make it a few meters down the shore when he shoves you down to your knees. Your legs make divots in the sand as your hands catch the rest of your body’s momentum. Hunched over, your knees and palms sting from the sand's friction.  

You immediately tense up as you feel a gun press against your head, the cool metal barrel hungry to fire. Hearing footsteps approaching behind, you quickly swallow your fear to maintain composure. Agent Barrett walks past, turning to position himself directly in front of you again — only this time, he doesn’t crouch down to your level.

“Look at me.” He demands as he towers over you. His body language makes it clear who is in control. In the only act of defiance you have left in your arsenal, you keep your gaze laser-focused on the water straight ahead of you, refusing to give in to his instruction. Growing impatient, Barrett roughly grabs your chin. He clasps it tightly as he yanks your jaw upward, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“You’re going to tell me about your friend, and you’re going to tell me where she is, right now," he growls.

You stare at him, disdain in your eyes. You momentarily scan your surroundings and count nearly twenty other men on the beach now. It’s enough to make your gaze and your heart sink straight to the ground.

Even if you wanted to tell him, you don't have the answers Barrett is looking for. His face hardens as your lack of cooperation and unwillingness to talk becomes clearer and clearer. Loosening his grip and dropping your chin, Agent Barrett looks at the agent next to you.

“Do it,” he orders, leaving you without another word as he walks back up the beach toward the bungalow.

The gun presses even harder against your temple and you hear the irrefutable sound of it being cocked as a bullet rolls into the chamber. Your heart is heavy as your eyes begin to well with tears. You stare out at the ocean, the night swallowing the horizon save it for the piercing glow of the moon that cuts its way through the sky down to Earth. It’s a better view than most get in their final moments, you suppose. For that, you consider yourself lucky.

Time seems suspended as you feel the ocean breeze blow past you, pouring over your skin and filling your lungs as you deeply inhale these final moments. You savor the way the salty air envelops you like the comforting embrace of an old friend. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try fighting back the tears. Despite your best efforts, one single drop escapes, racing down your cheek as you accept your fate.

Zzzzziiinnng!

Where you expect to hear the split-second ring of a gun firing before getting your brain blasted out the side of your skull, you instead hear a high-pitched whistling through the air and the unmistakable slice of a blade penetrating flesh. The weight of the gun barrel against your head slides limply away, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground next to you.

Your eyes shoot open. You turn to see your executioner now lying dead on his back with a spear pelted through his chest. Your eyes widen in fear, then settle on the spear itself. A spear you recognize — because it’s the same one that was held to your throat only a few days earlier.

Namor.

He's here. Desperately your eyes search the ocean line, scouring the darkness for him.

"We're under attack!" Someone yells frantically from behind you. It is one of Barrett’s men.

"Open Fire! Open fire!" Another one shouts.

You immediately abandon your search for Namor, hitting the deck and covering your head as dueling bullets and spears fly over you. Hearing anguished cries from both sides, you peek out from over your arm and watch in horror as an agent a few meters away looks down at their dart-ridden chest. They drop to their knees, then fall forward onto their face.

Your head whirls around at the sound of another spear making contact with a body and dropping it to the ground. This agent is about ten meters away from you, and while your first instinct is to get the hell out of there — run as far as you can as fast as you can — you notice your little leather-bound book tucked into the belt of the lifeless body.

You tell yourself to leave it. You plead with yourself to leave it.

“Damn it,” you mutter in frustration to yourself. You are getting that book.

Before you can give it another thought, you are already army-crawling through the sand. The sound of gunfire rings in your ears as more weapons return their fire. You scramble to the body, staying low to the ground on your chest and abdomen. Once there, you reach out and grab the book, wrangling it free from the deceased man's belt. You shove it into your waistband when something behind you explodes, causing you to duck your head and shield yourself with your arms.

The battle is deafening and disorienting. The mix of adrenaline and shock threatens to override your entire system as you try to maintain your focus.

Keep moving, you tell yourself.

You lift your head, ready to run, but your breath catches and you freeze. Mere inches from your face, you find yourself staring at someone’s feet and feel the presence of their body hovering over you. You brush the stinging sand out of your eyes, pleading in your mind that this is not the end. Not now. As your vision sharpens, you feel a surge of hope. There in front of you are two winged ankles.

Your eyes shoot up. Standing above you, illuminated by the light of the moon and the rapid sparks of machine guns firing, is Namor.

He looks down at you, his stare intense as his nostrils flare and his chest rises and falls with each breath. Gripping the hilt of the spear, he effortlessly removes it from the body next to you with one pull, his eyes never leaving yours. The ongoing battle on the beach doesn’t deter his attention from you in the slightest. From behind him, a handful of armed warriors with pale blue skin come storming out of the ocean.

“Namora!” He calls, and one warrior immediately splits off from the group. While the others continue to push the team of agents to the far side of the beach, the general comes to Namor’s side and your eyes widen as you take her in. Almost unrecognizable from when you first met her, Namora is a sight to behold. Instead of weak and wounded, she now stands strong and commanding, fully outfitted in her armor of woven jade and metal. Dazzling lionfish spines adorn her head and neck, and she wears the same mesh apparatus over her nose and mouth as before. You are astounded when you squint and barely see a seam remaining where you had stitched her up.

“K'uk'ulkan.” She answers, standing at attention.

Namor’s eyes are still fixed on you. He hands the retrieved spear to Namora and then nods in your direction.

You become nervous, suddenly uncertain if the pair of them have come to you as friend or foe, watching as Namora tightens her grip around the weapon.

“Go.” Namor urges, and a wave of relief washes over you. Friend.

“Where are my goddamn reinforcements?!!” You hear someone shout into a walkie-talkie. You recognize the voice as Agent Barrett's.

“Go NOW,” Namor commands, his eyes flicking up in Barrett’s direction. The expression on his face becomes menacing as he strides past you, his muscles rigid and his pace purposeful. He pulls his own spear out of the larger agent who nearly executed you as he walks past the body, arming himself.

Without hesitation, Namora strides forward and links her arm under your shoulder, pulling you up to your feet and yanking you quickly toward the trees. Before you can reach them, however, more men dressed in black combat gear come pouring out of the thick foliage, ready to attack.

Three surround you as the others rush to provide relief further down the beach. Instead of guns, these agents come armed with batons and other blunt weapons. Namora whips you back behind her, placing herself between you and the approaching enemy. She walks toward the agents, rotating her spear in her hand. You’re surprised by how relaxed her posture is as she waits for the men, each one at least twice her size, to make the first move.

The agent to her right makes the first advance, lunging forward at Namora. She meets him with speed and ferocity, quickly sidestepping him only to grab hold of his shoulders. She uses them as an anchor to whirl herself around him, gracefully landing and her feet and then lodging her spear into his back. The man cries out in pain, but Namora quickly delivers the final blow as she twists the spear in deeper and shoves it upward toward his lungs.

No sooner does his body hit the ground when the two other men charge at her. Like a beautifully choreographed dance, Namora drops to her knees, sliding across the sand between them to duck under their attacks. As she does so, she nimbly summersaults back onto her feet and turns one hundred and eighty degrees. Back on the attack, she runs hard at them. You watch as Namora delivers a combination of charged punches to one agent, then springs back to avoid the swing of the baton from the other. To counter the move, she kicks the man above the kneecap with so much power it sends his whole leg backward and brings him to his knees. She grabs the sides of his head with both of her hands, thrusting it down hard against her knee. You feel the grisly sound of blunt broken bone deep in your core as his skull makes contact.

As the man’s head reels backward, blood pouring from his face, Namora seamlessly transitions between her two opponents, avoiding another attack from the third agent she had previously deflected with punches. Her attention back on him, she trades blows as they fight in more hand-to-hand combat. Between kicks, punches, and counter-punches, Namora strategically inches herself backward until she’s practically standing on top of the first body she dropped. Baiting her current opponent forward, she taunts him with the tilt of her head, exaggerated by her headpiece. It works like a charm. He charges at her, and swooping under him, she wraps around his chest and pulls him over the top of her, flipping him onto his back. In one calculated motion, she pulls her spear from the body of the first agent which is now easily within reaching distance, and drives it into the second.

It all plays out in front of you so quickly when the third agent with the broken nose — well, broken face, really — groans as he gets himself up, ready to have another go at Namora. She engages, but as she moves towards him you see a fourth man emerge from the trees, raising a gun to shoot.

“LOOK OUT!” You yell to warn her, but pure instinct has your feet sprinting forward to stop him.

You don’t process any thought or consider any tactic, you just hurl yourself at him. The two of you collide, crashing to the ground with all the power and momentum you can muster. You scramble for his gun and manage to knock it away, but he barrels you over him and slams your back against the ground. The impact forces the air out of your lungs, temporarily paralyzing you as you struggle for breath. The agent straddles your body, putting more pressure on your chest as he pulls a knife from his hip. With all your strength, you fight to hold his arm back. He breaks through your grasp and takes a swipe at you, but reflexively you deflect it away with your hand. The knife slices open your palm and you cry out as you try to continue pushing his arms back.

When he raises his blade again, a blur of orange lionfish spines come streaking across as Namora flies over the back of the agent and yanks him off of you. They tumble across the sand, but she quickly gains the upper hand by entangling him in a headlock. Clutching your injured hand and still struggling for oxygen, you look on as she tightens her grip around the man’s neck and then abruptly cracks it to the side.  

The sound makes you sick to your stomach, but you also feel a sense of relief. And gratitude. Your chest heaves as you finally start to catch your breath, your entire body buzzing. You turn to see the dead agents Namora has so quickly disposed of, their bodies dispersed across the sand. She unwraps herself from her most recent kill and makes her way to you with haste.

As she reaches you, you hear the chaos and fighting continue further down the beach. Then, the faint sound of a helicopter approaching. Barrett’s reinforcements.

“There are too many of them,” you say in distress as you witness more agents pour out onto the sand to fight Namor’s warriors. Even if each one had Namora’s four-to-one kill ratio, they are still outnumbered. As the chopper blades get louder, Namora looks at you intensely, reaching out her hand.

“Come,” she insists.

She’s gotten you this far. You grasp her hand without hesitation and she pulls you to your feet. You edge closer to the tree line where you hope safety and concealment await you, but as you reach the lush landscape something pricks your ears. It’s not gunfire. It’s not the chopper.

Namora tugs your arm as she tries to usher you into the trees, but your focus is elsewhere. A faint, melodic breeze moves past you like a ghost, causing your mind to become hazy. As the sound grows louder, an indescribable melody rings in your ears that is both euphoric and dreadful. You don’t even notice the tension of Namora’s grip on your hand increase as your feet redirect you toward the water, compelled by its call.

“No!” Namora yells at you as she yanks your arm. The force of it snaps your attention back for a moment, and you watch as the agents who line the beach suddenly cease fighting and instead walk undeterred paths straight into the water. Terror fills you as they wade further and further out, the water coming up to their knees, then their hips, then their chests, until they are completely submerged underneath.

You shoot a glance to Namora, petrified and confused. Whatever is happening, she seems unaffected. Your thoughts and vision begin to cloud again, and you feel like someone else is controlling your body as the ocean summons you along with the others. Every part of you feels entranced by the chorus of voices in the air as their notes overwhelm your senses and leave you disoriented. Namora grabs you, practically throwing you over her shoulder as she runs into the trees. You become hard to carry, so she pulls you both into the cove of a sheltered root system at the edge of the foliage. Huddling next to you, Namora tightly wraps her arms around your head to cover your ears with her hands.

Pupils dilated, you desperately try to hold onto any shred of active consciousness before giving in entirely to the song. Your mind becomes infiltrated by it and begins to process what you see in pieces; men in the water, drowning themselves; gunfire raining down from the night sky; Namor, spear in hand, leaping into the air, taking impossible strides toward a chopper; the chopper spinning out of control.

You feel the heat against your face as the chopper crashes to the ground, exploding on impact. The last thing you remember seeing is Namor in the distance, standing on the sand. Illuminated by the raging inferno that burns behind him from the destroyed chopper, he is fierce, incredible, and terrifying.

A god. A monster.

The haunting chorus melody continues to consume your mind. Even with Namora’s help, you feel your body shift as it involuntarily attempts to get up. Namora squeezes her palms over your ears with even more strength and restrains your movements.

"No." She whispers fiercely.

You squeeze your eyes shut, covering your hands over Namora's as tightly as possible. Blood pours from your hand down hers, trickling onto your shoulder. The noise is too much, and as you feel yourself begin to scream, everything goes black.

——

Your feet drag through the cool sand.

That’s the first thing you see when you finally become conscious again. Your head hangs low in front of you, pounding as it bobs up and down. It’s still dark out, but you find your home lit up by more lanterns as you approach the pathway to your porch.

You glance to your right and left,  discovering you are being assisted by two people on either side of you — Namora on your right and a much taller blue-skinned man on your left. His shoulders are wide and his head is outfitted with an armored hammerhead skull. Arms slung around both of their necks, your body is in a state of pure exhaustion as they get you up the stairs to the door.

As you start to step with your own feet, they are alerted by your recovered consciousness. Quickly, the man unhooks your arm from around him, steadying you against Namora. He retreats as you find yourself gaining feeling back in your body. Namora patiently waits for you to get your bearings, and when you do she opens the front door for you, ushering you to go inside. You follow her instruction, and there waiting for you in the bungalow is Namor.

Namor stands against your kitchen counter, the same place you stood when he first came crashing into your home. His arms are folded across his broad chest. Although his head is down, his eyes are flicked upward toward you, watching your every move. The flame of a lantern on the table glints off his irises, illuminating the dark stare that hovers just below his furrowed brow.

“Please, sit.” He says with a stern voice, his open palm gesturing toward a chair at the table.

As you sit down, you hear the front door close behind you.

Silence.

"Those men," he finally says, pushing himself away from the counter as he stands up straighter, “they were seeking information?"

You only nod, afraid to say too much.

“It’s safe to speak here. I’ve made sure of it.” He promises, sensing your reluctance to engage in conversation.

“They wanted to know about Namora." You answer cautiously.

Namor's expression grows even more serious. He subtly shifts his weight from side to side before settling back into the center of his powerful stance.

"And even with your life on the line, you said nothing."

You are unsure if he is making a statement or a question.

"Why?" He asks through a clenched jaw.

"Why?" You repeat back to him, caught off guard by the question. "Does it matter why?"

"Yes,” Namor says directly, raising his eyebrows. “Because I need to know if I put my spear through the right person.”

The seriousness of his statement hits you like a brick. Your mind flashes back to the beach, you on your knees with a gun to your head as Namor’s spear plows its way through the man next to you. How easily, you wonder, could he have changed his aim by just a few degrees if you had decided to open your mouth and spill what little information you did know to those men?

As you think about it, you also begin to ask yourself why. Why did you keep your mouth shut? Why did you help Namor and his people?

You take a deep breath as you consider your reasons, then lift your gaze to him.

“You barged into my home, broke down my door, and threatened my life. But even then, the motives behind your actions were clear — the love and concern for your people. These men,” your eyes trail away as you feel a wave of anger build up inside, "these men were driven by self-interest and self-preservation. It wasn’t hard to choose a side.”

His face is stoic as he listens to your answer.

“Plus,” you add, “I promised you I wouldn’t say anything. Twice.”

Namor looks at you the same way he did the night you met him. The look that tells you he is debating whether or not you are telling the truth. You are a witness testifying on the stand, and Namor is your judge and jury.

“Well, that is twice now you have saved my people. Again you have my gratitude." He says with a sigh, his expression softening.

You give a small smile, but it disappears when an unrelenting ache pounds inside your head, pulling you out of the moment. You reach up to rub your temple and suddenly feel a surge of pain coming from your hand, instantly reminding you of the injury you sustained from your face off against one of the agents on the beach.

“Shit,” You exclaim, pulling your cut, bloodied palm away from your face and looking at it.

"Here," Namor says, grabbing the roll of gauze off your kitchen counter as he moves in your direction. Pulling up a chair, he sits down directly in front of you so your knees are practically touching. He gestures for your hand. “May I?"

You consider his offer as you stare at the thick veins protruding from his forearm, binding themselves to his defined muscles like vines around a tree. Eyes darting back up to his, you cautiously nod your head to accept his help while simultaneously extending your arm to him.

Namor takes your injured hand gently in his own, cradling it as if it could shatter into a million pieces. Amazed by how his hand dwarfs yours, you feel a surge of energy in your chest when his thumb begins to rub along your wrist. He takes the roll of gauze and begins carefully wrapping it around your palm.

Calmly maneuvering each layer of the bandage, Namor's brow furrows ever so slightly as he slips deeper into a state of concentration. His grasp is firm but gentle, rotating your hand in tandem with the bandage and you take comfort in his touch.

Studying his face, you admire each feature and detail closely. You see the traces of salt against the rich tones of his skin, and soon your willpower gives way to a desire slowly being coaxed inside you as you allow your eyes to trail from his face to his broad shoulders, down his muscular biceps, and finally to his strong hands as they work to take care of you.

Namor begins humming softly as he continues wrapping your hand. There's a warm timbre in his voice that resonates in your ears, drawing your gaze back up to his face.

"That song..." your voice trails off as you grow more entranced by it, unable to find the words to describe its intoxicating melody. But a surge of fear runs through you as you recall another tune, the one from the beach, its haunting cadence prickling the back of your mind.

"My people have many songs," Namor says in a tone equally rich to his humming, calming you instantly. "Each one with a meaning and purpose."

"What is the purpose of that one?" You ask quietly.

Namor’s hands stop as his eyes wander up to yours.

"It's a lullaby, meant to bring the soul peace." His eyes flutter back down as he resumes wrapping the bandage around your hand. "My mother would sing it to me when I was a child."

"It's beautiful." You say reverently.

A smile spreads across Namor's face, but there's a hint of sadness in it. He leans down to your hand and you can feel your heart beat faster as his mouth hovers mere inches above your skin. The warmth of his breath rushes against your wrist, sending shivers through you. With great care, he tears the gauze with his teeth before tucking the loose end into a fold of the bandage.

"It is," he agrees, staring down at your hand which he now holds carefully between his own. "Especially in a world where peace is scarcely found."

His voice is gentle, but there is a bitterness brewing beneath the statement.

"I have spent my life ensuring peace for my people. Protecting it. Preserving it."

Namor looks back up at you, letting go of your hand as he sits up straighter in his chair. The room is quiet as his words sink in and you drop your gaze to think. As you do so, your good free hand migrates to the leather book still tucked in your waistband, your fingers fiddling with the binding.

“What is it?” Namor asks, snapping your eyes back up to his. You swallow nervously, unsure if you should share what is on your mind. Then again, you may not get another opportunity.

Slowly, you pull the book out from against your side, opening it to its marked page before pushing it across the table to him.

“You say you’ve spent your entire life protecting your people.” You preface, hesitating a moment before asking your question. “Is that... you?"

Namor stares at the book in front of him, tracing the outline of his likeness delicately on the open page with his fingertips.

"A version of me." He answers.

"How...." you rub your temple as you do the unnecessary math in your head, already knowing the hundreds of years difference between the book and the man in front of you doesn't add up. "How is that even possible? That book is centuries old, I mean," you are at a loss trying to wrap your head around it all, coming up short with any logical explanation, “who are you?"

Namor looks up at you, then his gaze descends back onto the open book. He gives a sad smirk.

“You are one of very few to ever ask who I am instead of what I am." He strokes his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. "The answer to neither of which will be found in your book." He says, shutting it and sliding it back toward you. You reach for it, only he doesn’t take his hand off the leather cover right away.

"You must always be weary of your authors.” He warns. “The preservation of one's opinion over time does not make it fact, no matter how long ago it was written."

He relinquishes his hold, you finish sliding the book back to your side of the table. Namor searches your face as his eyebrows pull closer together, a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes.

"I wear the mantle of king and am the protector of my people.” He begins. “They are my responsibility by birthright, a charge I’ve dedicated my entire life to upholding.”

Namor proceeds to tell you the story of his people — how they were driven from their home by Spanish conquistadors, and how their gods provided a remedy for a foreign disease that led them to seek sanctuary in the ocean itself. He explains that his mother was among them, pregnant with Namor at the time, and how the remedy herb altered his very being in the womb. Mutant is the word he uses, the reason for his strength and abilities, as well as his slow aging. He then describes the horrors he had seen upon returning his mother’s body to the surface world after her death, and the vow he took to keep outsiders away from his people and his beloved city he calls Talokan.

"So you see," he says leaning forward as he places his forearms on his knees, his face even closer to yours now, "I am no god. Nor am I a man. What I am is a leader who loves his people. If that makes me a monster, so be it. I will see the world burn before I subject my people to its sins and savagery.”

It’s a lot to take in. You study Namor’s expression as his stare now lingers away from you, his mind somewhere in the past. You can’t even begin to comprehend all that he has seen or experienced, but you do feel a clearer understanding of why he is the way he is. Filled with compassion for him, you cautiously reach up and cradle his face with your non-bandaged hand.

"You're not a monster." You reassure him gently.

This brings Namor’s attention back to you immediately, his dark eyes searching your face earnestly as he takes a deep breath through his nose. The bristles of his scruff are rough against your palm, creating a warm friction when he leans into your touch. Namor closes his eyes and lets out a sigh so deep it's as if he's releasing a weight from his shoulders, one that he has been carrying for far too long. His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing it deeper against his cheek.

“K’uk’ulkan,” a voice calls from behind you. You drop your hand back down to your lap as Namor glances over your shoulder. The man with the metal hammerhead skull stands at attention in the front doorway, his body so large it consumes the space entirely. Namor nods at him, then looks back at you.

"It's time," he says, pushing himself up to his feet. “More men will be coming. Namora is outside — collect what you need quickly, she will take you to a safe place.”

The realization sets in, and your heart sinks. Your home is no longer safe and you can’t stay here.

Namor offers you his hand, helping you out of your chair and onto your feet. In doing so, he pulls you into him and tucks his hand delicately under your chin. He’s impossibly close as he tilts your face upward toward his own.

"I am sorry." He whispers, a soft and apologetic tone in his voice. He gives you a remorseful look, but all you can think about is how little space currently exists between his lips and yours. Namor’s gaze flutters down from your eyes to your mouth, but the moment is fleeting as he drops his hand from your chin and takes a step back.

“Go.” He says, encouraging you to get your things. It’s his last word before walking past you and exiting out the front door.

Left alone in the empty bungalow, you make your way over to your bag still on the floor from earlier that evening. You take it and march into your room, grabbing some clothes, your toothbrush, and other small essentials. You don't have much in terms of possessions in the first place, so it doesn’t take long for you to collect what you need.

As you exit your bedroom, you get ready to leave when you look over at the small book on your table. Namor insisted it held no answers for you, but you go to retrieve it anyway, stuffing it in your bag along with the rest of your belongings.

You take one last look around your home, once an unfamiliar broken place that over time became your haven and sanctuary. It breaks your heart to leave, but you know you must.

“Thank you,” you quietly whisper to the room, hoping in some way its energy or spirit or anything can hear you. You make your final exit, walking out to the front porch just as the dawn is starting to break over the horizon. Warm hues cast shadows of orange and red across the island, and you breathe in the early morning air. As you look out across the beach, you are surprised by what little evidence remains of the night’s events. No bodies. No fires. Just large divots in the sand and some smoke along the tree line from a few singed palms.

Namora is standing at the edge of the pathway leading to your porch, waiting for you. Descending the stairs, nerves prompt you to tighten your grip on the shoulder strap of your bag as you brace yourself for the unknown.

“I’m ready,” you say when you reach her.

Namora looks at you seriously, then nods her head. Reaching up to her face, she carefully removes the apparatus from over her nose and mouth. It is the first time you have seen her whole face, unobstructed by the peculiar covering. She’s just as striking without it, and you notice a beautiful jade ring pierced through her septum, echoing Namor’s. She turns the mask in her hand and guides it onto your face, sealing it against your skin.

“Come,” she tells you, turning toward the ocean.

You take one last look back at your home, then fall into stride behind Namora as the two of you walk into the water.

-- -- -- 

Tag List (I think this is how you do it? Sorry if not, still figuring this whole Tumblr-thing out): @looneylikesbooks @omgsuperstarg @chixkencxrry @vainillasmil157 @demoiseller @sodonuthideout @shoutaaizawas @stany0url0calwh0res111 @hjjks @duckwithsunglasses

[tenochconamor]

A God-King and his Generals.

[syrma-sensei]

→ Love Underwater.

gif credit.

pairing: namor of talokan x queen!reader.

rating: fluff.

warning: spoilers for black panther: wakanda forever.

The King lets out a light grunt when you slip his large necklace off after you took his cape off of his shoulders, revealing the gills on the two crooks of his neck. He tilts his head, cracking the bones of his neck, and you giggle when his lips graze the knuckles of your fingers. Then, you click each of his arm bracelets open, removing and putting them on the adorned tray for the servants to pick up later when you're done.

You massage the muscles of his arms and shoulders, and he groans approvingly. Hands trailing down to his abdomen, unclasping his large belt from around his refined waist. You never let the servants undress the King when he retires to his chambers; a job you've taken it upon yourself since the day you married the King of Talokan; a sweet and intimate gesture of a wife to her husband. When you're done, Ku'kul'kan whisks you playfully to his lap while he's sitting on the large bed. He kisses your neck fondly, while you kiss the crown of his head, then you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“Namora came to me today, my love.” You say idly, “Again.”

“Oh,” He raises an eyebrow, “Did she?”

“Yes.” You answer, drawing your head back so you can look at his face, “She's expressed her worry about you, my King.”

The latter regards you with gentle eyes, “And you share the same sentiment as well?”

You cup his cheek, your palm pressing lightly on the three marks left by the three scars.

In the recent weeks, the King has spent most of his time drawing the murals at his memorabilia cave —his sacred shrine as you call it— where you're used to watch him flicking his brush nimbly against the wall, recoding history. The latest of his works is The Battle Between The Serpent God and the Black Panther, the first time your husband lost.

“Our King chose peace over slaughter.” You told Namora, when came to you sulking, in her rough way of speeech, about her king cousin, your husband. The seasoned warrioress still can't digest the defeat of Talokan — of her king... god. In all honesty, neither could you, but as the queen, it's your duty to calm your subjects' qualms down, even if you have some of your own.

You glance down at his wrapped ankle, the slightest frown on your face; you've never seen your husband wounded in such a grotesque way. Despite your displeasure, the King seems to wear it with pride. Your eyes flit back to his face again.

“I did.” You answer frankly, “But not anymore. My trust in your judgement never wavers, my King.”

Ku'kul'kan cradles your cheeks in his warm hands, pressing a smooth kiss on your forehead, “Sometimes, I wish they had a piece of your wisdom, my love.”

You hold his hands, pressing kisses to his palms. “You flatter me, my King.”

“I only speak the truth, my Queen.” He smiles, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

Even after hundred years of marriage, you can't prevent the blush from smearing your cheeks red, and your husband laughs, flicking your cheek with his fingers.

“But the Panther Princess ought to be true to her words.” You say stubbornly. “Should she break them, and I'll be the one to bring her head on a spike,”

Ku'kul'kan smiles. “I'm counting on that.”

[creamecafe]

Nobody:

Me searching up Namor fics on Tumblr and ending up across reading Dark!Namor fics and just seeing the absolute most horrific concept that a writer could think of. Such as Namor killing the reader's family, burning their village, and non-consensual, and people in the comment section asking for more

[way-of-love]

Unfulfilled (PART 3)

(NO MINORS)(R-RATED-) (NAMOR X FEMREADER)

You, a mutant siren, made a deal with the god and king of Talokan. That in use of your body, to be a surrogate, to create an heir, you will be paid in what the world truly wants most. Vibranium. . But you set rules, limits to what was allowed and all those months lead to nothing. An empty womb. And a very angry surrogate. Namor has been nothing but patient but now was the time to exploit your ridiculous rules and claim what he's been fighting for.

He was a king.

And the king longed for you.

-Sorry for the wait!-

There was a reason for Namors new wardrobe change, a long sleeved shirt arms rolled to his elbows, bootcut jeans that hugged his legs very nicely and even shoes or rather boots you never knew the king of the sea owned. There was a lack of jewelry on his person as well, everything was gone except for the septum he had on his nose. You wouldn't dare call him normal looking because you knew what hid underneath. He was anything but a normal guy.

But he did hide his mutations very well. If someone from the outside got to see him they wouldn't think he was the infamous Ku'kul'kan that people throughout history feared and what people today thought was a myth. Honestly, what would people think? What would they say when they saw the myth they've told throughout history was in your home and every other night come to impregnate you because of the deal you both agreed upon. A baby for pure vibranium.

Speaking of the baby, he was here for that reason dressed up like this. He and his other two subordinates agreed that it was more than high time you saw a doctor for that baby. You were supposed to see one sooner than this but Attuma and even Namora assured you that if you were to see a normal doctor they'd pick up that it wasn't just an average baby. In short, what they meant to say was,' That baby you carry is nothing but a mutant. Bred between a powerful siren and an even more powerful god. No one will understand.'

While you thought the pregnancy was going to be normal in itself you found yourself being extra careful with what you ate, what you did and even how you sung. For a siren singing and stretching your vocal cords was a must. Even while pregnant, yes your mother did it, but this wasn't just a sirens baby it was a mutants baby. You didn't know how sensitive it was or even how vulnerable it would be to your songs. You weren't going to risk hurting it.

Or risk losing your income.

Namor helped you back into bed after cleaning you up. You felt like absolute shit. The pregnancy books didn't mention this one bit. God, if this was how you died then this was definitely the worst way to go. Before Namor showed up Namora was the one to tell you that this was just your body's way of trying to share its nutrients with the fetus inside you. And since you didn't get hit with this sooner, it hit you now with full force. Lovely.

"I hate this. I hate you," You mumbled burring yourself under the thick blanket Namor pulled up for you. Of course he didn't take your words to heart and simply sat down by your bedside and waited. Listening to you sniffle and watched you as you rubbed your bare tummy under the protection of the blanket. He never once hear nor had reports of you cursing down at the child that made you feel so sickly like this. And he certainly did not hear you swear your hate towards it. Everything that he saw, heard and noticed was that you took care to protect the very being you will never even see at birth because he will make sure you will never see it, as per the clause in your agreement.

This 'hate' you had for him, he knew was just a small burst of your emotions. That it too shall pass. As sickly as you were he didn't engage nor indulged in it. Namora warned him about moments like these, woman in general were emotional beings and even more so when with child. But a siren, a creature who allured men and lured them to their deaths, who protected woman, children, infants...you'd be more exploited to your emotions.

You were with child and already protective of it. He feared that one day you wouldn't walk away as per your agreement, that you'd show him your teeth and claws ready to fight for something you never wanted. Something deep, deep down inside him hoped you did something so then he'd take the both of you back to Talokan and hopefully the two of you or rather the three of you could live in peace. But the agreement weighed heavily in his chest.

You knew nothing of this inner turmoil raging inside him because you tried not to care for it. You had your own inner turmoil to deal with.

"Once you are better, we'll be going to see a friend who is able to help you through your pregnancy," Slowly he stood from the bed and removing the cap from his head and placing it on the small nightstand where you had a bottle of water and some untouched mangos on a plate.

"She is very skilled in her field and if the child is a mutant she will be better equipped for the birth." Whenever he thought about the new queen of Wakanda only bitter memories came along that remembrance. He had what he most desired, just hair length away from his goal but because he wasn't truly careful. Namor had to swallow his pride and wait for the day the queen called for him and his army. He knew it was going to be a very long wait until he was called to arms and destroy the surface. And until that time came he will have built his legacy. A son or daughter it didn't matter to him what came out of your womb as long as his blood was running through its veins then he will forever be immortal. No one will ever question his power or his standing, Namora nor his people will ever doubt him again.

Whatever he wanted, you didn't care if it was a local doctor who knew about his existence you just wanted to feel better.

You peeked over your blanket at the sea king who continued to remove pieces of his clothing one by one. His shirt was the next to go giving you a view of his torso again. Did he tan? There was absolutely no way he managed to get this golden under water hidden away. He must've sunk to the surface once in a wile when he was getting pale and laid in the sand for a few hours. The image of him coming to the surface to tan made you snicker.

He paused when removing his pants staring back at you. Your eyes beaming with amusement, beaming at him. It made something in his chest ache but he pushed it to the back of his mind and continued to undress.

"What's so funny?" He pushed the clothing to the side and stood tall in his green trunks.

"Do you tan?" You dared ask as he slowly came back to sit by your side, making the bed dip a bit.

"Tan? This is my skin color," Raising a hand he brought it closer to her peeking eyes. Why would she think his skin was amusing?

"I just...thought that maybe you came up once in a while to tan. You know? The sun doesn't reach the inner depths of the ocean Namor," In a sing-like tone you pushed the blanket down revealing just how funny it was to you. The smile you had on your face looked bright, big and your cheeks were damn near about to split. And Namor found himself holding back his own smile of amusement.

"So...do you come here to tan?"

"I'm just tan-"

You laughed. "I didn't ask that! I asked, listen, I asked you if you tanned here on the surface to be that golden."

You had to bite your inner cheek because Namor was giving you this dirty look you didn't think he was capable of giving while holding back his smile.

Why did you find this so amusing was beyond him but the expression you wore and the things you were saying was too much even for him.

"Do you just float on your back or do you come onto the sand lay out a beach towel and have Attuma fan you with a palm leaf?" The snicker that left the both of you and Namor was surprising but it was a truly welcoming open door. He hid his smile behind his other hand looking away to compose himself and the other you took and sat straighter upon your pillows.

Once the fit of snickers and giggles and jokes from you stopped you both looked at each other with an unearthed emotion that the both of you wished never surfaced. Longing.

A desire to have and to yearn for something or someone. It was a need for someone and that someone for you was Namor. It was strange because no man made you feel like you were fragile like he did. Even before you got knocked up he was as gentle as he could be when speaking or even embracing you, he treated you like a prized woman. Not some dancing and singing harlot he could pay and pretend to be a man for. Despite the circumstances you both put yourselves in there was evidence that the longing the two of you had for one another was steadily growing in the pit of your womb.

Unknown to him, he too longed for the deadly woman, you, who held his hand so innocently. As if you were unknown to the many lives that hand took or how many times he imagined caressing your body with that hand. It may have been one night but that night was a gateway you both opened and it will never close again.

But perhaps that night can happen again? Not now of course but when you were better, not sick like this. He'll convince you then. Because he now knew your body, truly knew it. And he would use that to have you again and again until the child that was promised was born. Then you would disappear. Before that happens he'll have his fill.

----------

That morning, after that moment you shared, he came into bed with you. Not for sex but to lay and comfort you. The sick mother of his child. A mother. Were you considered a mother? After all you were pregnant. It still counts, right? Your hand traveled down your naked torso and stopped at the tiny hard bump in your lower abdomen. It was barely there but it was making its presence known. It was... a good feeling. Namor was laying on his side already asleep, or so you thought with the way his shoulders were steadily rising and falling. He did say he was just there to watch over you and help you if you felt sick again.

You didn't really need his help but just to have someone other than an unresponsive belly to talk to was comforting enough. Talking to your belly, was that normal? You never really had to carry another being inside you before nor did anyone prepare you for it. Running a hand over that tiny bump again you stilled over it. Was it normal to feel this longing for a small thing to come out? Or to long for its dad?

You dared rest your forehead against the middle of his broad back looking down at your belly beneath the blanket. A small thing like this will soon grow bigger and bigger until one day it'll be out and about crying out and leaving her for good. Like you both agreed to, this child will never see you nor acknowledge you as its mother. It'll never know you.

You'd be lying if you said it left you feelin a bit empty inside. Never to see the product of you and Namor again; never seeing Namor again. He was one of the only men who sought after your very body but for an entirely different reason. And even after he successfully took your body he remained by your side. An interesting man.

An interesting man who you shouldn't be with. He was dangerous.

Your face fell into a frown at the thought. No man has ever shared your bed this way. No man was ever allowed to touch you in the way a woman was meant to be touched, in a deeper, more permanent way that was something other than sexual. You were a siren, free of the rules of men and even the love of men. Unable to settle or nest because you were taught never to do it. Your wants and dreams were what mattered.

You were loved by one person and that was your mother. And even before she passed she made you swear never to get caught up with a baby or a man but here you were with both. She'd be turning in her grave.

Now you didn't know what to do as Namor slept by your side. You felt lost, and without the knowledge on how to get back to the right path. Was this a good idea?

If you were honest with yourself, you knew you didn't want him to ever go. But as always, you had to remain unattached. Or at the very least try.

The smell of him filled your nose as the sight of him filled your eyes, just a his body filled your own. He was taking in soft breaths filling the room with his breathing. Just as his child was inside your body filling and growing more each day. How was he filling up every area of your life? How were you able to rebel against him so much? To be selfish was better.

You reached for his tanned broad back refusing to acknowledge that your naked body was slowly molding against his back. To be selfish meant a life without ties, without a deal you both agreed upon, and it was so much better than what you'd seen others go through in their pursuits for love, affection, and a family life. Even Namor, the deadly sea king, Ku'kul'kan the feathered serpent god, an unstoppable man, had not been safe from the feelings of love and obligation. An obligation to strengthen his people and reassure that he would be forever. His reign even if he perishes will be forever. Yet, how culd a woman like you, remained unavailable to emotions that even a man such as Namor had allowed for himself?

To be selfish had to be better than to love. To stay unattached, had to be less troubling than to be tied down. By anyone. Words from a mother who loathed her daughter. And you stood by them.

When you were close you pressed your face into his back, felt his skin on yours, breathed in his scent and experienced the vibrations deep inside his body from the soft sounds he made as he slept. It was still early in the morning so the both of you were no doubt were tired. You from vomiting and heaving all night and early morning. Him from planning, negotiating and somewhat pleading for his child and its mother.

And for once you didn't rebel against your own thoughts with actions. Even when the soft snoring stopped, you didn't move away.

It was better to be selfish.

Namors eyes slowly opened and his body remained still. Your touch eased him out of sleep, a sleep he'd been a little surprised he'd fallen into after comforting you. Starring at the barely risen sun through the glass sliding doors, he accepted the reality that you were up against his back, almost as if you were a kitten who wanted to be petted. It was such a strange act coming from you, that it was hard to pull away.

"Y/N," he said your name softly still laced with sleep and deep.

You wanted to lift your arm, and pull him close. You wanted to adjust the sheets so your legs were flushed against each other and you wanted to feel his body naked against your own. But you didn't do it, because you...couldn't. You pride yourself with how you lived and how you stuck to your rules like glue. You prided yourself for the trait. But at what cost?

Remaining still and feeling the tiny bump of your belly against his back, Namor asked," What are you doing?"

Right now, you didn't know nor could you give him answer because it your emotions guiding your limbs. You were stuck in a strange place, that place that you dared not step foot in. A place where you questioned, and wondered about other things that were different from what you were taught.

"Do you ever wish that...for one night, even just one hour, that you could be someone else? Someone different?"

His mind raced, trying to decipher what you meant. But your mind had always been somewhat difficult to pinpoint because you were so unique. And now, you were completely different from your day to day self, even with him it was hard to figure out. "What do you mean?"

You bit your lip and thought it over. "I...don't know. Everything is different to what I am. Even when seeing people who aren't the same as me, having a child, a man, a functioning family, I can't understand it...I don't know how to change. I don't think I can alter."

The sea king drew his brows together and wondered if this was the same woman who he choose to impregnate. " Change is not always granted to us because we simply want it. At most, change is thrust upon us when we are not ready for it."

"Change is impossible." You muttered. You were a woman who changed everything constantly. But the one thing you could never change was yourself.

Namor didn't know where to begin with all of this you were spewing at him. He took the necessary steps to be here. Even with the war with Wakanda, taking the previous monarchs life, he will not regret it because it lead him to his siren, his surrogate. But if he could alter a few things he would. If it were ever possible to become a different person even if it was for one messily hour then he would not be a man of vengeance. He would make it go away.

For one hour, one night or da, he would make it all go away.

You pulled away from him the, turning to your other side and giving him your back as he'd done with you. Your hair felt poufy against the pillow, so wavy and uncombed from her time holding it up from vomiting and from tossing all night. But it was the least of your worries. The bigger thing to worry about was that Namor had turned over as well, your positions now reversed.

And you still couldn't shake yourself out of this weird funk that had pulled you in deep.

"Who do you want to be Y/N?"

Your little home was homey, clean now after you found out you were pregnant. Usually it was so unkept with clothes tossed about the floor, shoes, bras, dancing outfits, it was always a mess. But now it looked clean. But you found that it wasn't enough. You starred at the closed bathroom door," I was taught to stay free. Never to be caught up with affairs of a normal life because a normal life wasn't meant for someone like me. I stayed free, running all these years. I never once stopped,"

Something dark came upon Namor at the mention of her mother. Everything you were told and taught was from a woman who's husband left her to be with a normal human woman. What he took from your stories of your childhood and the lessons of your mother was that she loathed you, she hated that you had inherited her power and she could no longer keep your father entranced to stay with her. If you were a man, there would have been no issue.

These lessons were that from a jealous woman.

"What does your mother say that would hinder you? Trap you?"

You didn't hesitate to answer him because it was one of the lessons that she bore into you since the moment you could walk." Love. Love is...only meant for certain people, and shouldn't be taken lightly, or given away freely. Because then your freedom would be taken away," You hesitate a bit before continuing. "Sometimes certain people you can love are so few. So, one person is enough...they have to be. They won't tie you down or trap you." Did you sound silly? If you did, you didn't care. You were in this void, so you would use it to talk about things you'd never talk about with another person before.

"I can't...I can't connect to anyone. There's no room, no time, no effort."

Namor looked at your hair, cascading in waves against the pillow. Your skin looked darker against your baby blue sheets," Do you wish to be someone to connect to others?"

"No. But sometimes I wonder what it's like." Whether it was the truth or a lie you immediately responded.

He lifted a hand, ran it over the exposed skin of you shoulder and down the length of your arm pushing the blanket down with it." That is a feeling that can kill someone. Perhaps it's better that you don't know what it feels like."

You stayed still while he felt down your side, exposing your naked body. What was he trying do? This wasn't what you both agreed upon. You were already pregnant so there was nothing to gain from being intimate again.

"What are you doing?" Now it was your turn to ask him.

Namor said nothing as he continued to slide his hand further down past your hip and to your thigh. While you were feeling better already, you felt a fire start to ignite in the pit of your stomach. His hand went back up to your hip and stayed there, then he decided to scoot closer to your back moving the blanket back over the both of you so your bodies were meshed together. Meaning, what you so desperately wanted to do earlier when pressed against his back he did to you.

He slid one of his legs in-between the two of yours and spooned you. If it was just for one night, one day, or even one hour he will pretend. Pretend that the both of you deserved to feel that you both belonged, you both were accepted that the feelings between the two of you were answered. It was the least he could do.

As much as you wanted to say this was an expected outcome, it wasn't. This conversation shouldn't have happened, but it did. He shouldn't have stayed to comfort you after watching you throw up the contents of yesterdays dinner, but he did. You both shouldn't be laying in bed like two couples making up for lost time, but you were. And now you realized that this, his touch, his warm embrace were the things you missed. You craved it.

That powerful hand slid over the bump of your hip and to the tiny baby bump that held not just his child, but yours. This was what he wanted. An heir to rule his kingdom by his side, with the power of both a god and a powerful siren, unstoppable. But he did want the woman that carried that powerful being, you. He wanted what he knew he could not have and that's what made this transaction between the two of you that much more covetous. You belonged to your rules and he was willing to rip you away from them.

"Let's pretend, for an hour. That you are all that you wish to be and I am all that I wish to be," His lips were on your should in an instant kissing it. "You will be a woman who wants to give love and understand others. I will be the man who receives your love and will help you to understand."

This was a ridiculous way to ask you to sleep with him but it was one that you somewhat understood. Talking was cheap, actions was what got you somewhere. "You want...us to pretend we're...together?"

"No. That's not what I said. Pretend you are a woman who is a woman and I will be a man who is a man. Like that night? I know you remember it as vividly as I do," He spoke lowly trailing his lips up to your ear that was hidden under the tresses of your hair," Pretend. And I'll touch you however you want to be touched Y/N."

There was temptation here and pleasure but there was also another rule breaking. You got the job done so...why again? It wasn't like him to give you yet another opportunity to give in to your wants and needs. Did he miss being intimate with you?

"W-we had one night. A few moments," Words were coming out but it was as if you were on autopilot. The mouth could move all it wanted, a thousand words spoken, but the desires of the body could overpower it all. Like it had previously.

During this time, you nor him realized that you both were resonating with one another. Calling one another from the darkest depths of the sea and now the great serpent answered the sirens call, a life in return for pleasure. And maybe he will take a little more before he was consumed.

Slowly his hand went up, fingertips brushing against your naval, tickling and touching the sirens skin before reaching one of the breasts that his unborn child will never suckle from. You took in a hiss of a breath when he encased it with his hand, thumb brushing against the sensitive little nub. "I'm already pregnant, I don't need this Namor,"

"Say my name." His lips were still whispering by your ear. Somehow he managed to slip his other arm under the pillow you rested your head on and put you in a lazy headlock. His veiny forearm lightly pressed against your neck , the sea king wanted you, and he wanted to take you so you knew just how well he could 'pretend'.

His name wasn't Namor but Ku'kul'kan. And he wanted you to say his true name like that night, you said it over and over again until it sounded like gibberish falling from your lips. Namor found great pleasure when he heard his name sung from your lips like a hymn, a hymn that was meant just for him.

Releasing a soft breath you shook your head. No, this wouldn't be like the last time because the last time you were blinded by lust, greed and overall was just sexually frustrated. You weren't this time. The lust, the hunger was always there and still was but that other feeling you never wanted to feel was nagging at the back of your mind. Longing.

Longing for what could be and what will be. To pretend the bot of you felt the same at least for an hour...an hour should be enough.

"Ku'kul'kan," You whispered softly closing your eyes. You fell back into the headspace of what could be while chanting his name in your sing song voice that lured men to their deaths but for him it just sounded beautiful. It was only for a bit, pretend for a bit.

"Let me touch you mujer fatal,"

"Touch me then, touch me here," You took his hand that played with your breast back down to your pelvis, past the trimmed curls," Here. Touch here."

Without missing a beat he slid his thick fingers through those soft curls at her pelvis and was welcomed by a pooling wet heat. So you were excited. He was gentle in his exploration, caressing, rubbing, tapping and flicking of your clit. Thankfully his leg was keeping your parted because there were a few instances that you wanted to close your legs and mewl out in ecstacy. Namors second exploration of your body lead him a few conclusions, you enjoyed being handled like this barely having any say in how you were positioned. Secondly, this thing the two of you had between the two of you excited you. The pretending wasn't what excited you, it was the relationship you had brewing. Forget the agreement, forget the rules, outside of that you liked that you carried his child and you liked the attention you were receiving from him. He knew deep down in that cold heart of yours that this was what you wanted.

Your soft breaths were what kept him going touching every inch of your cunt before deciding that it was enough, he slipped in two of his digits making you arch. It's been forever since you were touched like this and over a month since he laid hands on you so intimately like this. His hand took your chin and forced your head to tilt to look up at him, and through hazy eyes you saw his bright chocolate eyes that smiled down at you. That feeling came up again like bile at the back of your throat. Longing.

That longing to be normal and have normal feelings for another person, that longing to be one with another and love another. But that feeling, longing, was a feeling you were forbidden to feel. After all, there was no room for it. No room for the effort you had to put in in order to achieve what you most desired and it was to be taken and loved on...but still be free.

You released a quick moan when his fingers found that certain spot that made your toes curling in pleasure. When he heard the moan his chocolate eyes grew sharp when he found the perfect spot to bring you to your end. Faster his fingers went, curling and uncurling inside you flicking that one spot over and over again. Now, you were gripping his wrists for dear life never breaking eye contact even when you breathlessly begged him.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," You whispered craving for more of his touch, accepting it.

Namor grinned, chocolate eyes full of victory. "Did you know Y/N," He began deeply, pressing his mouth to your ear," that when a woman tell as man not to stop, it means he has found the exact rhythm she uses when she pleasures herself?"

He pressed harder, rubbed faster and you all but purr." Don't...stop." You moaned again.

Everything you were doing and saying was maddening. Namor looked down at your mouth again, focused on it and craved it. He eased on the motions of his hand, and knew he needed to take from you now.

Namor leaned in without any hesitation, and kissed her.

There was absolutely nothing soft about it, as their kiss had lacked gentleness as well. The act was only to use, only to take and only to taste. Instantly, your mouths opened against one another, instantly your tongues met. Namor could taste the sweet sin that lured men to you, could taste the desire, and he almost felt the need to pull away. Almost. But your mouth was giving even as you demanded more of him, you sucked his lips before accepting his tongue again.

His hand no longer forced you to keep your head tilted, he eased that hand down to your breast and gave it another squeeze, he couldn't get enough. "It's so good," you whispered between kissing him, your mouth open against his as your tongues met and licked each other," Why is it so good?"

Namor pulled away from your mouth, and your enticing voice, moved to your neck and sucked you there with all the desperate drive of a man with a time limit. His fingers helped you soar to new heights as they maneuvered between your wet folds, his thumb surprised you and rubbed your swollen bud with precise flicks. You hummed deeply while exposing your neck more to feel those lips of his taste your flesh and mark it. It wasn't enough for Namor, he wanted more of you.

Pulling back he gave your neck a lick before finally whispering back," No man will have you like this Y/N, you carry my seed, I will fill you up as many times as I have to, to make you understand."

You were already on the brink, his forefinger and thumb played with your sensitive nipples," It feels 'so good' because you want it to feel good Y/N." Your voice went higher and your body began to tremble. Before you knew it you were crying out with your true voice, the call of the deep, the call of a siren being pleased by the very man who impregnated her.

There was no better feeling to Namor than watching your red lips spill his true name in a song. Your juices spilled from you drenching his hand, as you settled from your high you found the strength to keep your gaze locked on his. While you were panting desperately trying to catch your breath he went on to make you lose it some more when he pulled his soaked fingers from your center and did the one thing you didn't know would turn you on.

He slid those fingers that were soaked in your nectar across his tongue, tasting you. The taste of a fully willing woman tasted explosive on his tongue, it was your taste, the woman who devoured men was being tasted by the man who planned on being devoured by the alluring siren.

Namore continued to taste you off his fingers with an unwavering look that told you to watch him, and to witness just how delicious you were to him if he devoured you. He wondered just how a woman who was normally tough and blithe could look as innocent as you did, an expression that had nothing to do with the words you said during sex or your own actions.

Your face...your face was capable of giving him all he could ask for.

But would he be able to ask from you more than what you've already given? The dreamy look on your face could convince him that you'd say yes to anything he'd ask but he knew better than to push you.

As you basked in the afterglow of a much needed orgasm you couldn't help but caress his forearms, his hands that smoothed over your thighs and belly. Did pretending always feel this nice? Were they truly pretending, right now?

Longing could do a lot to a person. Fix them up to be great and do better.

Or it could break an already fragile relationship into pieces, that could never be put together again.

------------------

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[uzumaki-rebellion]

“The Offering” Part 1 of 3 (A Namor of Talokan Fic)

My first Namor story! Masterlist HERE.

Summary:

A young Wakandan woman attends an annual Mama Wati celebration to honor the sea spirit and surf with friends. She encounters a strange man in the ocean who claims to be from a land as powerful as hers. A man who calls himself, Namor.

NSFW. Smut. 18+. (7,330 words) Namor x Black Female OC

"You're ruling the way that I move And I breathe your air You only can rescue me This is my prayer"

Sade – "Cherish The Day"

It was the day of offerings for Mama Wati.

No time of the year ever made Lebadi happier than the first days of summer in Wakanda when the Border Tribe region celebrated the deities of the deep waters. Bast, Sekmet, and other higher powers were recognized inland, but on the sea, Mama Wati ruled everything. From the fishermen and fisherwomen to the military patrols on the ocean by the military, and everyday citizens, the big water was respected and revered. Mama Wati held sway there, and the annual offerings and celebration excited Lebadi beyond belief. Birnin S'Yan faced the sea and thousands of Wakandans made the trek across the mountains to the shorelands to dance, pay homage, and leave offerings to the mother of the sea.

Lebadi loved the trip because she loved to surf with her friends.

Every year T'limiwati—Revering the Mother of Waters—started the journey of packing up her father's Stealthmaster van with surfboards, firewood, and food. Lebadi drove around to pick up her four friends before they stopped at a temple to pay for blessed offerings to put into the sea. Mama Wati liked sugary treats, blue flowers, and small puff pastries shaped like seashells.

The drive would only take two hours, so her friends, N'ku, Pule, Ausi, and Benya would sing songs with her, eat snacks, and hope to find decent parking.

"We should've taken the monorail," Benya complained, as Lebadi tried her best to find a parking situation large enough for her father's van, but not too far away for them to trudge along with all of their gear.

"Not with all this stuff," N'Ku huffed.

"How about I drop you all off to find a suitable camping spot, and I'll catch up later," Lebadi offered.

Her friends agreed, and she pulled up near a sea wall where they offloaded their things. She happily drove away, knowing she wouldn't have to lug anything, not even her own stuff once she parked. Mama Wati must've known they had a great offering for her because Lebadi was able to snag a parking spot that was only a twenty-minute walk back to the beach.

The pilgrimage that year ran deep. The splendid weather, warm water, and balmy temperature brought out a dense wave of Wakandans for the celebration. Lebadi ran her fingers through her shoulder-length goddess braids she decorated with shells and blue flowers. It was the perfect style for swimming and surfing in seawater. Her skin was already turning a darker red-brown hue from the sun as she tapped her kimoyo beads against her father's car, sending up a protective shield that kept sand, sun, and seawater from damaging the paint.

Tugging on her short shorts that her plump ass cheeks tried to swallow, she checked her bikini top to make sure her plum-sized breasts weren't popping out like they were in the car. The top was a size too small on purpose, but it gave her the desired effect she wanted on N'Ku. He checked her out in the car despite his insistence that they stay friends after a not-so-successful try at a relationship. She thought that being out of college would make her love life easier, but the men around her were pitiful.

The walk to the beach thrilled her by seeing all the elaborate altars and gifts being brought to the beach for Mama Wati. She wished her grandmother was still alive. Their family used to show off by building a giant altar, but once Umi became an ancestor, her family didn't go to the ocean anymore. A pity. Umi taught Lebadi how to surf and she was going to keep up the tradition of surfing for Mama Wati until she was an old woman, too.

"Kgopo molemo!" Lebadi cried out when she caught up to her friend's campsite.

Wicked Good indeed.

They found the perfect location up against a sea bluff that protected them against any wind and was also far enough away from dense crowds hunkered down on the sand. There was a lot of dried and rotten seaweed separating them from folks that attracted flies and a subtle stench that was bearable to them, but unpleasant to others. She didn't care. They had room and privacy for their tents and boards. Gazing across the shore, families erected altars and there was a large old-fashioned blue and white boat decorated with blue flowers and filled with gifts for the sea, waiting to launch beyond the waves.

Wiggling out of her shorts, Lebadi made a show of jiggling her backside. N'Ku ignored her, his eyes fixated on the waves. They were big enough. Over six feet high. She held a hand above her eyes, shading them from the sun to see how far out the swells were, and how fast they were rushing in. Her board rested on her beach blanket, already waxed and ready to go. Checking her kimoyo, they had about ninety minutes to surf before the official ceremony began. They all stretched and put on rashguards, except for N'Ku and Ausi. He had on a full black wetsuit, and Ausi wore a short dark blue wetsuit that hugged her heavy curves.

"Last one in!" Lebadi shouted, kicking up sand.

The others chased after her with their boards and they spent a cracking good time snagging waves left and right until her kimoyo lit up. It was time for the offering ceremony. Lebadi twirled her finger in the air to let the others know it was time to stop. She paddled toward the shore fast when a wave lifted her. She popped up on her board like a rocket shot, balanced her arms, and took a quick glide along the lip of the wave, doing a three-sixty spin before dropping down. Her fingers skimmed the wall of bluish-green water that almost curled over into a nice liquid tunnel, but she overcompensated her balance and fell headfirst, knocking into Pule, whose husky voice shouted her name before he plummeted into the water too.

Soaking wet and full of laughter, the five friends scurried to their campsite to change into ocean-blue cotton tunics. Carrying the small offering basket they purchased at the temple, they delivered it to the large ceremonial boat. Several elders watched over the boat and accepted the gifts people brought. Seven djembe and talking drum leaders beat out a loud drum call and an old woman draped in an eggshell white dress with aquamarine flowers in her hair sang an ancient song to Mama Wati that Lebadi knew by heart. Two men and a woman paddled the offerings away and all the spectators onshore watched it sail far out to sea. The elder continued to sing and in the distance, they humbly observed all the offerings dropped in the water by the small boat crew.

When ululations ripped out from the throats of the onlookers, the drummers kicked up their pounding and Lebadi danced around her friends. They took time to admire the altar displays by families who decorated their own praise for Mama Wati. There were so many dotting the seawall.

They shared a fancy lunch together, and Lebadi relaxed into the fun for the rest of the day. By early evening, families left the beach for the inner-city entertainment. Soon, it was time to spark up a campfire and roast seasoned chicken kebabs and yams after a good surf day.

Lebadi reached into her open tent-flap door for the small paper napkin filled with sugar and special spices for Mama Wati that her grandmother used to make. She pulled off her tunic, revealing her bikini again.

"Be right back," she said.

"Hey, Lebadi. You're not surfing again, are you?" N'Ku asked as she lifted her board from the bluff wall.

"Just putting something out in the water for my Umi. Won't be long," she said.

N'Ku nodded and watched her carry her board back to the ocean. She felt self-conscious about her booty because she knew he was checking it out. Glancing back, she waved at him. He shook his dark locs threaded with shells, and she admired the lean muscular physique he showed off with his delicious sable skin. Bright white teeth gleamed at her. Her heart skipped a little. Maybe something could jump off later.

The far side of the beach was cleared of people, and the dull sound of music and carnival festivities echoed far behind her. Sunlight glinted off of the water with a final showy display of magenta and a sliver of blue for the sunset. She dropped her board on the water and skimmed over small waves, her strong arms paddling toward the orange sun. Straddling her board, she checked her leash, loosening it before she pulled out Umi's offering. She sprinkled the mixture gently into the water. The sugar dissolved, but the spices floated before being washed further out to sea.

"Mama Wati, I know this is your day, but my Umi, she was special to me. She taught me about you… she taught me how to love the ocean and ride the waves. Forgive me for honoring her with you. I don't know when I will be out to the sea again. Bast be blessed in your holy waters. Yibambe."

Lebadi dipped her fingers in the cooling water, cleansing her hands of sugar and spices. Reaching into her hair, she unfastened a flower and dropped it for a small wave to catch. It floated around her surfboard and a peace came over her. She sprawled out flat on her board and let her eyes gaze at the languid water, feeling lazy and free. Drifting off to a mini-sleep from a long day, her board rocked and lifted, gently pacifying her mind.

Minutes later, she opened her eyes and nearly fell off of her board. Two piercing dark brown eyes stared back at her from the water. They were attached to a handsome young man's tawny brown face. His ears were pointed and his dark wavy hair sat plastered around his forehead. A jade septum piercing captured her attention, and then her eyes drifted down to look at the most kissable lips that were parted slightly. His gaze had her transfixed. She held her breath, and he reached for her hand.

Lebadi sat up quickly, and a fresh wave rocked her, throwing her off the board. She splashed around, looking for the man, and glimpsed his feet diving below the surface. Were those tiny wings on his ankles?

She gagged on seawater because her mouth sat agape, and the shock of being spied on subsided. The man wasn't Wakandan. He didn't look like a citizen of their border country neighbors of Canaan or Azania. The man clearly wasn't African of any kind. He didn't look like the colonizers she learned about either, their pale flesh naked and strange like food without seasoning.

Something moved under her.

Lebadi scrambled onto her board and tried to catch the next wave back to shore, berating herself for not hitting her kimoyo quickly enough to film the man on a holo pic. She tapped it before she popped up on her board. A small wave rose and Lebadi rushed to snag it, but her leash stretched behind her and it dragged her off her board. She smacked hard into the water. A dorsal fin popped up, and terror hardened like cement in her stomach.

A great white shark.

Normally, they were confined to Southern Africa, but the shark circling her missed the memo. She struck the water to scare it away, and amazed herself by not screaming. Panic would overtake her if she did. She lunged for her board again and pulled herself out of the water, lying flat and still. The fin came around again and she could only guess at how big it was under the dark water.

"Mama Wati, help me," she whispered to the sea.

A thrashing in the water scared her shitless. She wanted to paddle away, but her arms would look like a tasty snack. Teeth chattering, Lebadi took a chance, sank her arms in, and stroked. A wave lifted her, and she jumped up quickly, focusing on getting to shore. She did no tricks or special moves, just rode the wave straight. Her board fins struck something, but she kept her balance, twisting her body to maintain control until she arrived on the wet sand that snaked between her toes.

"Holy Bast!" she shouted.

Running with her board back to her campsite, she kicked up a fuss. Her friends were tipsy from sharing a bottle of liquor.

"A great white attacked me!"

Her friends stared at her from around the fire. Benya held out the liquor to her.

"Well, shit!" N'Ku said.

Lebadi took a swig of plum liquor, and her friends followed her back to the water. They used lights from their kimoyos to illuminate the waves, but there was nothing out there.

"There was a strange man out there, too. I wonder if he was injured," Lebadi said.

"I don't see anything. Maybe it swam away," N'Ku said.

"I hope so. I'd hate to come all this way and can't surf because Jaws is swimming around," Ausi teased.

They searched the water with her for ten minutes until they grew bored.

"Maybe it was a dolphin, yeah?" N'Ku said.

"No. I know a dolphin fin when I see it. That was a shark out there," Lebadi said.

"And a little merman," Benya snickered.

Lebadi threw up her hands, and they returned to the fire.

More drinking commenced, with Lebadi partaking heavily, and after midnight, they were inside their tents asleep. Everyone turned in except for Lebadi. She let the fire burn down to the hot, glowing red coals before she took a walk along the shore away from their tents. Moonlight turned the peaks of the water into glowing white slashes of silvery light. Checking her kimoyo beads, they didn't do a great job of capturing anything because she didn't change the setting to get a wide 3D view of her surroundings.

Wait… there!

She froze the image. It floated in front of her, and she took her index finger and thumb to enlarge a section and cleared it up.

His eyes!

The static image seemed so strange. Water surrounded his face, with his hair swirling around. His body sat hunched forward like he was riding something…

She covered her mouth with her hand. The great white shark was underneath him. He straddled it like she did her own surfboard. There were no more images better than that one. Perplexed, Lebadi glanced at the water. Moonlight bathed her in tranquil blush-white light, and the soft sound of foamy water tickled her ears. He couldn't be human. Not with those ears. She could swear that she saw non-human feet, too.

She gasped.

He was there.

In the water.

Lebadi stepped forward until her toes were coated with foam and surging water, but she remembered the shark and kept the water at knee level.

"Hey!" she shouted, waving at him.

She didn't expect him to come to her, but he did, striding out of the sea in small tight trunks dripping wet. His hair was slicked back from his face, and it allowed her to observe him in the moonlight and the glow from her kimoyo beads. He was just under six feet, maybe three inches taller than her in comparison. His eyes made him seem larger than life, and their darkness penetrated every inch of her. His shorts hid nothing of the dick print bulge. He studied her too, taking peeks at her body and the lack of clothing she had on with her tiny bikini set. An elaborate choker necklace draped around his neck and she could make out gold cowrie shells, small beads, and strings of—

"Is that vibranium?" she said.

The shock of her tone startled him, and he looked at his jewelry.

Wakanda was the only nation that had vibranium.

"You're bleeding," she said, pointing to his side.

He turned around, and she saw the deep gash in his back.

"How did that happen?" she asked.

He pointed at her and his lips quirked up. Was he smirking?

"Me? How?" she asked.

He moved his hands to tell a story, and she made out that her surfboard had crossed over him and her board fins underneath cut him up.

"Can you understand me, or am I just thinking you can?" she said.

"Tene Tin na’atik … I understand," he said.

His voice scared her. It was forceful and slightly seductive. There was an accent, but she gawked at his ability to know her language. She eased back from him slowly.

"We are isolated from other places. How can you know Wakandan? Where did you get that vibranium? Did you steal that from us?"

Lebadi's voice grew haughty and protective of her country's secret resource.

"My people have our own."

"Rhino shit! It's native to our country. You stole—"

His hand went around her throat, preventing her from talking or yelling for help.

"My people don't have to steal," he said through gritted teeth.

"Take your hand off of me."

His head tilted and she swallowed as best she could.

"Watch what you say to me," he said.

The growl in his throat made her stomach jump. He released his hold on her and she rubbed her neck.

"The shark didn't attack you," she said.

"It knows better than to bite me. I raised it."

"Like a pet? Serious?"

He looked over her shoulder, and she glanced behind herself. N'Ku was up and about, kicking sand on the coals. Lebadi turned back to the man, and he was gone.

"Wait! Don't go!" she called out.

She ran toward the water. There was no splash. She would've heard that. Looking around, there was only the high bluff he couldn't climb up. He didn't run down the opposite side of the beach either.

"What are you doing way over there?" N'Ku cried out.

She ambled over to him on the cool sand.

"Walking around. Couldn't sleep."

"Stay close, yeah?" he said.

He rubbed her hair, flicked one of her decorative hair shells, and crawled back into his tent. She walked back to where she last saw the stranger.

"Where did you go? Am I drunk?"

The plum liquor had been strong. Maybe she had too much. She turned toward the bluff and—

"Fuck!" she shouted.

The man stood there, a sly smile on his face.

"How did you… do you have a camouflage shield or something…?"

"Bix a k’ a’aba’? What is your name?" he asked.

"Tell me yours first."

He stepped closer to Lebadi until his nose was an inch from her face.

"Eeen kaah-bah eh … K'uk'ulkan by my people. My enemies know me as Namor."

"So what am I to you?" Lebadi asked.

"I don't know yet. Who are you?"

"Lebadi."

He circled her, and the skin on her arms pricked with goosebumps. Not because it was cold, but because she found his behavior unnerving. He sniffed her hair, then stood in front of her again.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

He held a hand up to stop her from talking.

"I am looking for someone. A man was out in the water earlier. He dropped offerings into the sea with other people. I need to find him."

"I don't know anyone from earlier. I'm here with my friends to celebrate Mama Wati."

"Your God?"

"The mother of the waters," she said.

"Ixchel."

Lebadi shrugged, not understanding the new language he spoke.

"You are not afraid of me," he said.

"You rode a great white shark. If you wanted me dead, I would've been dead out there."

The intensity of his gaze became too much.

"I can't help you," she said.

She turned away.

"Would you like to ride him?"

Lebadi laughed in her mind at the nasty thought that ran through her brain about him when he said that. He had a solid body that would tempt any woman to climb on it. Fuck that shark.

"Me ride a shark?" she said.

Lebadi sucked her teeth.

"I'd rather know why you're here. What do you want from that man you're looking for? Are you a spy for the Americans?" she said.

King T'Chaka had begun a series of visits to the United States and the Wakandans worried about the west encroaching on their secrets. Lebadi pulled her hands in toward her chest. This was a national security situation. Liquor had her slipping up big time. She tapped her kimoyo to summon the authorities. Namor pulled on her beads and they fell apart, dropping onto the sand with soft plops. She dropped to her knees and gathered them back up onto her wrist. He held one away from her.

Lebadi ran back toward her camp, her hair shells jangling across her neck as she fled, and Namor's right arm encircled her waist. His left arm pointed above his head and they both lifted off the ground, racing upward fast, flying past the high bluff until they reached the top. Air breezed past her body and she closed her eyes from her fear of falling out of his grip. He dropped her on the soft tufts of grass at the edge. Too frightened to move, she stared at Namor's body floating in the air near the ledge. The small wings on his ankles fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. He glared down at her, daring Lebadi to move. She stayed on her rump.

"I must find this man soon. His name is Owiti Kiprono—"

"That is not a Wakandan name. I think you came to the wrong country," she said.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips became a tight line.

"I'm not lying. That name sounds Kenyan. You made a mistake coming here," she said.

She scooted backward slowly, and he crouched down to meet her eyes again.

"I cannot stay here long," he said.

"I don't know what to tell you."

He closed his eyes and sighed. Plopping down next to her, he plucked at the grass and threw it over the side of the bluff. That action alone made him seem so young. He looked her age, perhaps early to mid-twenties. There was peach-fuzz soft facial hair, and despite the maturity in his dark eyes, Namor acted as if he had a curfew, like he had to do something before his parents found out. How would an elder punish a flying fishman?

"You live out there?" she asked, her chin lifted toward the sea.

"I must leave," he said, raising up.

Lebadi grabbed his arm and held him. His skin felt cool and smooth, the muscle in his arm hard. He looked down at her hand gripping his flesh and jerked it away.

"Sorry," she said.

They sat together in silence, the crash of waves growing more frequent as a high tide rolled in. Far out in the sea, giant swells teased her eyes.

"You want to be on that?" he asked, nodding toward the large swells.

"Too far. I have a flying glider board that can take me out there, but it broke. We aren't allowed to go beyond five miles with our tech in the open."

"Because you hide yourselves?"

"Yes. If people outside knew about what we have…"

"My people are the same. It is forbidden… forbidden to be so far away… here."

"What do you call your home?" she asked.

"Talokan."

"Talokan… K'uk'ulkan… Ixchel …" she said, sounding out his language.

She looked at his ears and then gazed down at the wings on his feet.

"Do all your people—?"

"No. I am different."

She left the word mutant alone, not wanting to offend him. He flexed his fingers, stood up, and his body rose above her, those wings whirring fast.

"Wait, you can't leave me up here!"

Lebadi jumped up, and he flew past the ledge with a sly smile on his face.

"It'll take me forever to walk all the way down and back to my camp!" she whined.

"I need time to disappear before you tell the others."

"You haven't really done anything for me to tell them about."

He moved his hands in a wide arc while flying, and she put a hand on her hip.

"Okay, yeah… the flying thing is gossip-worthy. But you didn't hurt me, and nothing major happened… wait!"

He floated back six feet, and she stomped her feet.

"Come on!" she said.

"I like when you pout," he teased.

A smile lit up his face, and the moonlight gave his skin an eerie glow. She didn't want to grovel, but she also didn't want to make a long ass trek either.

"I'm scared," she said in a hushed tone.

"You faced a shark and didn't scream."

"I was in shock."

Namor held his hands palms up.

"Take my hands," he said.

Lebadi shook her head, but her feet had a mind of their own walking toward the ledge. Her hands ignored her brain signals too and reached for him. Clasping his hands, she curled her fingers in his and let out a nervous breath. Stepping out into the air with her right foot, she made the mistake of looking down.

"Namor!" she yelped.

Namor held her up and flew backward fast before tossing her in the air, her arms and legs flailing about before he caught her by the waist. He guided her down, not toward her camp, but across the dark waters dappled with moonlight and holding secrets of the deep.

"Easy, breathe easy, Lebadi," he cooed in her ear.

They dipped low and her stomach seemed to fall behind her as he whipped them across a giant wave that she saw minutes ago from so far away. He slid his hand from her waist up along her arms until she dangled below him, her legs swinging against wind and ocean spray. She whooped it up as he lowered her so that her feet skimmed across the top of a giant wave, cooling her feet and making her laugh hysterically. He swung her in another direction gently and her heels surfed the crest of another wave like she was water skiing. Dropping her into the ocean from twenty feet high, she splashed around frantically, terrified that his shark buddy would leap out and swallow her. Namor landed above the water, standing on top of it with his hands on his hips, looking down at her. He sank down into the water as her panic escalated and she threw her arms over his shoulders when the shark's fin appeared behind him.

"Take me out! Please, take me out!"

"He won't hurt you. See?"

The shark nestled close to Namor, and the man stroked the slippery cold skin.

Lebadi pressed her face into his neck and shivered in fear.

"Nothing will happen to you."

He stroked her hair and lifted her chin up.

"I promise," he said.

She wiped her eyes of water and nodded her head to him. Glancing to her side, Lebadi regarded the shark with trepidation, but she took a chance and stretched out her trembling arm toward the sea creature. Like dolphin skin, it was slippery, like wet rubber, and pliant when she pushed on it. She stroked the dorsal fin and nearly passed out when its head splashed toward her and she saw one of the cold black eyes staring back at her. Shoving her face back into his neck, Lebadi was done with the marine life show and tell.

Namor patted the shark near its gills, and the beastly animal went under the water and away from them. He lifted Lebadi in his arms, cradling her against him like a baby as he floated above the surface, flying them back to shore. She held onto his neck, watching the sand and bluff grow closer until they were back on land.

Face to face, they stared at one another.

"Good luck with your search," she said.

He touched her cheek, and the heat of her wet skin swallowed his damp coolness up. Those dark flashing eyes caused her insides to tumble and quake, making her feel a thick anticipation. Their attraction to one another was unquestionable. He slid the pad of his thumb across her top lip, following along its full shape before he leaned in and kissed her. The soft hairs of his light goatee tickled, and she smiled, opening her lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth where he explored every part. She gave back in return, sucking on his lower lip, fusing them together with slow succulent kissing. Her arousal triggered something in him as he pressed into her body. Firm muscles molded against her breasts, and the thin material of her bikini top revealed taut nipples. His right hand moved across her chest until it fondled a left breast, plucking at her nipple with gentle pinches. He slid the bikini bra cup aside, lowering his head to suckle. His tongue was incredibly warm dancing around her areola and her knees buckled when he lifted to kiss her again, his tongue snaking in and out of her mouth to taste every molecule, making her mouth water.

Her pussy already felt engorged, and every time he thrust his tongue between her lips, it throbbed with wanton need. His carnal desire for her curled her toes as his tongue and lips created a wet trail of gentle kisses along her neck. He moaned in her ear and her stomach became a swarm of butterflies trapped inside of her.

Their necks twisted from side to side, trying to find the best way to kiss more passionately, and she loved the failure of it. It seemed to irritate him, and he pulled back to stare at her with brooding arousal. She glanced down at his trunks and the thick erection protruding out toward her made her frantic to kiss him more. His dick pressed into her and Namor wanted Lebadi to feel it. He rubbed against her and she ground her vulva on it. When she looked down at his trunks again, he had his hand down there, tugging on the length. The tip peeked out and a heavy mushroom cap dripped pre-cum.

Lebadi moved his hand to her mound, and he took the invitation to heart by sliding his fingers down her scant bikini bottom. He stroked her clit first, his index and middle finger working tight gentle circles before touching her slippery wet folds. She was a frothy ocean down there and Namor pulled out his fingers to lick up all of her essence, making eye contact as he did it to show her how good she tasted to him. He smacked his lips and went back for more, tracing odd shapes along her folds and clit, teasing her with so much pleasure that she squealed out loud. He clamped a hand over her mouth and looked toward her campsite. No one was awake or searching for her. Moving his hand, he crashed his lips over her mouth, kissing the living breath out of her. Namor fondled her clit with expertise, and she thanked Mama Wati for the gift of her offering to the sea.

"Oh, my Bast!" she cried out.

Namor dropped to his knees and slid her bikini bottom to the side and feasted on her swollen clit, kissing and sucking to his heart's delight. His hands reached up to cup her ass cheeks to keep her in place. Lebadi stood and watched the ocean waves crash to shore as an orgasm surged. She grabbed for his hair and held his head against the clipped hairs of her vulva, panting and saying his name under her breath, willing herself not to scream. When his plush lips held her clit, and his tongue slurped all over it with warm saliva, Lebadi threw her head back and jammed her fingers in her throat to stifle the scream that she let out. She fell apart all over his mouth, the deep throbbing of her release reaching all the way to the back of her pussy. His seductive, penetrating eyes watched her cum all over his lips and tongue, extending her release, the orgasm rolling across her flesh in heated waves that made her scalp tingle and her eyes roll back.

His lips moved away from her pussy with a wet smacking sound, and they glistened with her sticky juices. He grinned and slid his tongue across his slips to swallow up every drop of her. Lebadi staggered back from him and Namor jumped up quickly to keep her from falling flat on her ass. Her entire body trembled with aftershocks, and the throbbing between her thighs wouldn't stop. She craved him.

Slamming her lips over his, she sucked her own taste from his mouth while he lowered his trunks and fisted himself. He coated his dick with all the pre-cum that dripped down from a deep slit and lifted Lebadi up by her hips, positioning her over the head of his erection. Sanity and thoughts of protection left her brain as she slid down his thick, brown dick. She wanted to be fucked good and proper by a man who laid her pussy out.

Namor's thrusts into her hot, gushy pussy had her mewling into his neck. He held her up easily, like she was a feather floating on the wind. His balls slapped against her ass cheeks, and she thanked all the Gods on land and sea for letting him stretch her pussy out on the beach. He grunted, the pleasure enveloping him too. He spoke to her in his own language, and she could only guess that he was telling her how good she felt on his heavy erection. His plundering of her pussy only made her more vocal, her yelps and wailing in his ear encouraging him to thrust with more conviction.

"Oh, Bast… Namor!" she shouted.

Weightlessness.

She clung to his shoulders as she gazed down at the sand he was not standing on anymore. Namor flew up along the bluff, still fucking her as he flew, and pressed her back against the hard wall of rock halfway from the top.

"You are too loud," he grunted, twisting his sinewy hips and pumping her full of Talokan dick.

Her pussy made squelching noises, and he slowed his strokes to tease her before flying them up again. He landed back on the soft tufts of grass at the top, but kept her on his dick. His breath was hot against her skin, and Lebadi's pussy clenched, making him shout her name from the pleasure of the tight grip. Laying her down on the grass, he pushed her thighs back and wiggled out of his trunks, giving her time to untie her bikini from top to bottom. She cast caution to the wind. Dick that good wouldn't come around that often.

He smiled at her as if he had read her thoughts. His beauty in smiling had her all soft and gooey on the inside, like she wanted to run home and tell her Mama that she finally met the one man to change her entire life forever. Lowering his face to hers again, Namor kissed her cheek and then her forehead. He turned his head as if he heard something.

"What is it?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Nothing."

He peppered tiny kisses across her clavicle and dragged his lips to her belly button, where he tongued it playfully, tickling her and making her giggle. Lebadi rubbed his head, letting her fingers caress his hair, and he looked at her again. She touched his nose piercing and the fire in his eyes reflected moonlight and a yearning for something beyond his grasp. Moving lower on her body, he kissed her thighs and the fold of skin near her vulva.

"I like the taste of saltwater on your skin," he said, licking her more.

He positioned himself between her legs and lined up his dick with her opening. Penetrating her gently, the bulbous tip parted her folds and her legs shot up straight to the moon.

"Ooohhhhh," she groaned.

He held her thighs with reverence, pumping in and out with delicate strokes. There was no fast fucking this time. He wanted to etch their lovemaking on the stars above them. It was so slow that it brought tears to her eyes. She whimpered his name, and he closed his eyes, his lower lip housed between his teeth, seawater dripping from his hair. He hunched over Lebadi and rocked into her body a little faster, the quicker pace forcing moans to fall from his lips.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he repositioned them so that she was on top, riding him with feverish intent. He palmed her breasts and stroked her nipples, watching her pussy slide up and down his length with vigor. She was so close to cumming again. Namor played with her clit, rubbing it softly and edging her closer to paradise.

"Fuck!" she yelled.

Flipping her over, Namor planted himself deep, stroking her at an angle that had her squeezing her eyes shut, thrashing under him. The beads from his choker dangled and scraped across her skin. He tossed her legs over his shoulders and tongued her down between giving her praises in his language. The man talked her pussy into letting go again and her walls clenched all around him, his strength and weight the only thing keeping her from shooting over the cliff.

"Namor… fuck me good… fuck me… oh, right there… stay right there… please… that's my spot!"

His name became a holy mantra on her lips. She felt his dick swell inside of her and he cried out her name, his cum warm and thick inside of her. He collapsed on her, and she stroked his back, feeling sweat pooling on his lower back. His mouth found hers again and his kisses were sweet all over her face and neck, bringing forth calming energy to her body and mind.

"That was incredible," she whispered into his ear.

His smile lit up his face again, and those sexy eyes drank in her naked charms under him. The smile faded when his eyes looked out toward the sea. His body grew stiff above her.

"What is it?"

He crawled off of her and pulled on his trunks. She rolled over and looked out to sea. The large leviathan body of a humpback whale floated in the distance; its long wide body visible from so far away in the moonlight. Fear shined in Namor's eyes.

"K’a’ak’ate," he said, stroking her cheek.

Lebadi scrambled to put on her bikini and Namor was already flying away from her, heading toward the sea and the whale waiting for him.

"Come back! You have to take me down!" she yelled.

He spun around to face her.

"I won't say anything. No one will see you," she pleaded, tying her top.

"Ma’taali’teeni’," he said, sounding regretful.

Namor shot away so fast that Lebadi took several seconds to blink. He vanished.

"Dammit! You bastard!" she said.

Storming away in the opposite direction, she made the long trek down the tricky bluff, cursing the man out, while also enjoying the tingles that ran up and down her body from their lovemaking. She took a long restroom break behind some bushes to urinate. By the time she made it to the bottom and found the trail that led back to the beach, her cheeks were warm and tight from smiling so much. No matter what she said, no one would believe her. She glanced at her kimoyo beads.

"Ah, shit!"

Namor still had one of her beads. The main one she needed to turn the kimoyo on. Oh, well.

Lebadi searched the water for signs of the whale or glimpses of her otherworldly lover. There were only waves and foamy water lapping on the shore. She trudged over the sand back to her tent. Unzipping it, she crawled inside and fell fast asleep.

The week in Birnin S'Yan went by so fast to Lebadi that she thought they had been there only three days instead of seven. She surfed so much that her skin flaked with sunburn and pruned feet. She felt gorgeous with her darkened, sun-kissed skin. But it was time to get home, remove shells, and unbraid her hair for a thorough washing and conditioning. She would rest her normal curls inside a satin bonnet.

Lebadi spent her last day on the beach surfing and scanning the water for signs of a great white shark, whales, or a set of pointy ears rising from the sea. She found nothing.

Her board skimmed across the warm waters, and she practiced neat footwork on it to impress her friends. A miscalculation sent her sailing over her board into a whitewash of liquid heaven. She laughed and shook her braids when she broke the surface. Another high wave towered over her and she duck-dived underneath, clutching her board with her hands as she held her breath. For a split second under the wave, she thought she saw Namor floating before her, and she broke the surface, startled and gasping for air. Releasing her board and letting her leash tether her close to it, Lebadi dove under again, searching for her lover. The sunlight that struck the water gave her enough light to see an expanse of the blue-green ocean and nothing else.

The next morning, she set about packing up her belongings before breaking down her tent. Her friends wanted to stop at a restaurant in town to eat a meal before the drive back to Birnin Zana. Rolling her sleeping bag, she found her missing kimoyo bead and a gold cowrie shell from Namor's necklace. There was no way for him to place it there while her friends were up, so he must've brought it to her in the middle of the night when she was fast asleep. Slipping the loose bead onto its rightful place on her wrist, Lebadi held up the cowrie shell. The craftsmanship rivaled her own people's artisan skills. Palming it, she stepped out of her tent to gaze at the horizon.

"All good?" N'Ku asked, staring at her as he buried their old coals.

"Yeah."

"We'll be ready soon. I can drive to give you a break," Benya offered, tying up her wet hair.

"Cool," Lebadi said, holding the cowrie shell close to her heart.

She later passed Benya a kimoyo bead to start up the van. Sitting on the sand with her legs pulled into her chest, Lebadi bid a silent farewell to the beach.

"Next year, I'm coming back, and you better show up again," she huffed, reminiscing over his touch all over her skin.

Just thinking about him aroused her, and she stood up, tugging on her shorts, trying to keep her bikini from sticking to her folds.

"What's that?" Ausi asked, looking at the gold cowrie shell she fingered in her hand.

"I found it in the water," Lebadi lied.

She pocketed the shell in her cut-offs and lifted her board and tent, following her crew to the seawall so they could wait for Benya to pull around. Lebadi glanced over her shoulder, and a shiver went through her.

"Mama Wati, when I give you a bigger offering next year, please send that man back to me," she whispered.

The sound of the waves crashing down loudly on the shore made her believe Mama Wati heard her request. No matter what, Lebadi was going to come back.

And she would ride the shark, Namor, and anything else he shared with her.

Part 2 HERE.

Author’s Note: If you liked the story, please share by reblogging, commenting and all that good stuff. Follow me for new updates and more content. I would love to see the Black Panther fandom come alive again. I haven’t seen the “Wakanda Forever” movie yet, so this story takes place twenty years before that. Just so you know, I make my own canon, lol! 

Also, I switched up the spelling of the actual Mami Wata to Mama Wati to give myself space to reshape my ancestor’s actual African/African Diaspora spiritual water being into a fictional Wakandan one. 

The Masterlist for more of my content is  HERE. Be on the look out for part 3 soon!

Tag List:

@thickemadame​

[usagii-bun]

𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇 ( NAMOR X READER ) PT.4

in which you find a child floating in the water and you save them only for your acts of kindness to get misinterpreted by the father who is also the king of an underwater civilization.

PLEASE READ THIS FIRST : this is a story i am writing on wattpad but my wattpad version is more in detail, slightly different and has an oc ( alora ). It has 6 chapters thus far and still work in progress if you want you can check it out with the link below or use the linktree link in my bio to access wattpad but if you feel more comfortable with x reader I'll try and get all the chapters I have currently published over here in a few days

hiraeth ( namor ) wattpad | oc version!

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4

TAG LIST :

@f1uveryys @xxmilli @ethereal-athalia @cyberficlya @complete-randomness-2 @bobateaae @lunamoonbby @kpopgirlbtssvt @lazyassfinals @ilovehobi101 @r3dc4ndy @puzzlemastersworld @namorlover @happycupcakeenthusiast @kakimakiloh @glaciuswduo @disaster-in-waiting @givemefiction2 @phoenixgurl030 @monbebefan247 @intense-sneezing

comment if you want to be apart of the tag list or set a notification to get updates when I post ! every like, share and reblog is highly appreciated, tysm 🤍

IT WAS NOW EVENING, the sun dipping below the horizon kissing the ocean goodbye, the sky a purplish-orange color adorn with a few grey clouds as Huracan and you were still outside enjoying the last bits of the day before it was time to go back in.

You had came to term with the fact that Huracan staying with you was only going to be momentarily. You grew attached to the child due to the loneliness that you felt from staying by herself for months in isolation, away from others due to your health issues.

You wondered if Huracan was also lonely and just wanted some company but your mind now questioning if Huracan has a family, what if they are waiting for him? Worried about him and in search of him, thinking of the worst things that could have happened to him. This left you to ruminate over

your thoughts as your gaze fall on the sky, that is becoming darker and darker.

There was thunder clouds looming above you due to the hot weather you experienced today, the clouds were forming and becoming aggravated with each second that passed by— this alarming you as you walk back to the tidal pool to retrieve Huracan and putting a stop to your fleeting thoughts.

"C'mon, Hura. We need to get back in." You say, watching as the boy breaks through the surface of the water— eyes sparkling with life as he listens to you instantly, emerging from the pool only to latch onto your arm, his skin turning back into a shade of blue as you both walk home.

The rain came down. It suddenly came down heavy causing you to gasp in shock when the harsh rain pelted down onto you, you turn towards Huracan to notice that he had his eyes closed— enjoying the rain water that got soaked into his skin while you on the other hand felt a shiver tingling down your spine even though the air was warm.

Knowing that if you had to stay in the rain for way too long— you would definitely get sick but watching the boy enjoy the fresh water that falls onto him , you decided to wait a few minutes because seeing his face brighten up from just the simple feeling of rain water against his skin made you realize that the simple things in life is what makes living much better, it made you feel at ease with yourself.

A bright flash of purple and then a loud crackling noise followed by a hiss came from above you and Huracan shocks you at the loud noise and the thunderstorm that has finally brewed up, the rain became even heavier causing your heart to beat faster.

"Let's get back inside, we don't want to become fried fish today." You say, laughing at your lame excuse of a joke which Huracan didn't understand fully but he did understand that you wanted to go back inside from the way your body had stiffened slightly.

He was about to agree but then the sight of a shiny, shell that was a bit closer to the ocean water grabs his attention— he wanted to get that shell so that he could give it to you, forgetting that you wanted to go back in as he leaves your side, alarming you as he runs down the bank to go and retrieve the shell.

"Huracan!" You shout out alarmed, the rain pelting down heavily, the sky above you becoming dark— the only source of light now coming from the lighting that viciously flashed from above and the few outside lights from your house.

You slide down the steep slope to get to the boy only for your flip-flop to get stuck into something and in turn crashing into the youngster causing him to also fall and let out a small yelp.

"oh gosh, Hura! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" You cried out, you moved to his side to see that you had slightly bruised his knee cap, crimson escaping from the bruise as guilt consumes you from being so unconscious and not watching where you walked.

Huracan didn't feel much pain from the small bruise, he was about to tell you it's okay but you tore a small part of your shirt to help stop the bleeding. A small amount of blood covered your finger tips when you wrapped the small piece of cloth around his tiny knee cap, tightening the cloth around it.

A throbbing feeling around your ankle became prominent as you gazes down at your leg, to find that you had slightly twisted your ankle due to your flip-flop getting stuck onto something— that being the whole reason you slipped.

A small cry leaves from your parted lips, the thunderstorm viciously going on above them as the rain fell down. Your body was drenched in rain water, making you shiver adding more to the pain you felt in your ankle.

"Y-Y/N!" the young child cried out grasping onto your shoulders, he gazed at you to find that tears were also trailing down your cheeks with the rain water, your hands covered in wet sea sand and dabs of blood.

This made tears to form in Huracan's eyes, he was now scared and worried about you, the person that took care of him like he was their own child— he didn't know what to do to help you, making him feel even more worried and scared as the thunder flashed and rumbled.

Your body that trembled suddenly went stiff, your blood running cold— you felt like you and Huracan were being watched.

You were right.

The sound of something fluttering, similar to the sound of a rattle snake mingled with the harsh noises of the rain, lightning and the waves that crashed close by.

The fluttering sound stops , it suddenly goes eeirely quite, Huracan's whimpers go silent and before you could comprehend whether you was just feeling paranoid —something grasped the collar of the shirt you wore and pulled you harshly away from Huracan, throwing you to the other side away from him.

You heard Huracan scream your name out, your body feeling extremly numb, the world around you spinning while terror sunk into every firbe of your being.

Your neck twists to the side to see what had thrown you so viciously away from Huracan, fear laminating in your eyes, your gaze being met with the tip of a sharp spear, your body flinching away from it in terror but it was now pressed against the side of your neck in a threatening manner to slice your head off clean.

The lightning struck again, giving you a better vision of what was being hostile towards you , your eyes widening when your gaze falls on a man— his entire being radiate regality from the way his body oozed confidence to the jewelry that was adorn upon him. His chest covered in some sort of metal that was beautiful crafted, the same type of metal also adorning his biceps and wrists.

She also noticed that he had pointed ears, adorn with jewels just like the rest of him.

You shakily raise your hands, to say you was no threat or harm but this act seemed to make the man even more infuriated when he spotted dabs of blood smeared on your finger tips and then seeing blood around the area where Huracan was.

"How dare you take my son away and harm him?"

Shit. Was the first thought that came to your mind, you was right, Huracan did have someone to go back to— your thoughts being cut short when the cold tip of the spear pressed even closer to your neck that you could feel the pressure tearing slightly into your skin.

Your words were stuck in your throat from fear, you couldn't formulate a response except for a shaky breath to escape past your lips, your body trembling from pain and fear.

Due to your lack of response that made the King even more agitated, his spear was about to press into the side of your neck but tiny hands wrapped around his arm, holding it in place before he could slash at you.

"Father, please don't!" the young child cried out in his own language, this alerting the king who turns towards his son— the furious look that had adorn his face moments ago was replaced by one that was filled with worry.

"Huracan, my child. Are you alright? Did it hurt you?" his voice venomous when he says the word it , you didn't understand what they were saying but from the side glare the man had passed to you, you knew he had said something about you.

"No! Do not bring harm to y/n, she had saved me! Please do not harm her, she didn't do anything wrong. If you want to punish someone, father— it should be me, I should have never left Talokan." The boy sobs out, hearing Huracan's broken voice made your chest hurt— your eyes squeezing shut to prevent any tears from escaping as everything around you started to spin, the world around you becoming blurry as all the pain you felt physically and emotionally became blunt.

Your vision being filled with black dots that became larger until your eyes closed completely, body slumping into the sand— the fear you felt along with the pain made you fall unconscious this grabbing Huracan's attention, the boy letting go of his father's arm to rush towards you.

A cry leaves past his parted lips, his hands reached out to hug your cold body against his.

"Look what you have done, father. You killed her!" The boy says inbetween sobs, you was far from dead but to Huracan seeing your still body, no warm smile on your face and your eyes that twinkled with care and affection was no longer there— you looked dead to him.

K'uk'ulkan looked down at you. His son held onto you so gently, the rain easing down — the thunderstorm slowly clearing up.

"Hura.. she's not dead." The king says while his inner voice says  'well not yet'. He didn't trust you, this human but the way his son held onto you like his own life depended on you— he could not just kill you after he found out you had saved his son.

"You have to help her then or else I'll hate you forever." Huracan suddenly spat out— eyes shining bright with anger and saddness, his words stung K'uk'ulkan , his heart aching at the words his son spewed at him. An expression of hurt forms on K'uk'ulkan's face, a soft sigh leaving past his lips.

He glances down at your unconscious form that laid on the sand, his son's words floating around in his mind. He bends down towards you, taking in your features— noticing your skin has gotten paler and your ankle was swelling.

He was not keen on helping you, a surface dweller, he had hate for these disparage creatures but seeing how his son has become attached to you, clinging. He couldn't just kill you.

With one last glance towards your unconscious body, he looks back towards the raging ocean as he signals for Namora to come to him. He turns away and looks down at his son, his heart softening when he sees the tears on his cheeks as he sighs lightly.

'I'm only doing this for you my child.'

PART 5

[thegreatestsandwich]

King of my heart, body and soul (Namor x F!reader)

(You’ve seen this man? This man could just look at me and I would do whatever he wants)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: The union of two souls goes beyond the spiritual way.

Warning: Mentions of cringy sex, also like really really dirty? like dude this man can go at it, I know it, just look at him, read if you want, but if you are a minor, leave! why are you here?!

A/N: I have a new obsession now, and that obsession is him, he is just so...I don’t even know how to explain it? Like he owns me and I am happily aware of that. 

Translations: 

Teech k’abéet ti’teen - I need you

Béet - Please

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received!

The waters became colder as Namor guide you towards the ancient ruins. Six giant pillars greeted you just a bit under They were placed on a circle, one facing another. A true beauty of what Talocan represented.

The pillars were more ancient than the ruins of the city, more primal. A statue welcomed you- A beautiful woman bare-chested, dressed in nothing but fine clothes that covered part of her shoulders and waist. A snake adorning her hair. You couldn’t help but stare in amazement.

“Ix Chel.” He whispered on your ear, gesturing to the statue that faced both of you. You carefully looked around in amazement. You always knew you would see them one day, but never thought it would be with him. “The goddess of the moon. She will guide us through our journey.”

The waters were so calm here and you never knew how peaceful could it be, just the feeling made you held your breath, too afraid to disturbed it.

“Are you ready, mi amor?” Namor murmured. “Her power is strong and once we fully enter her domain, it will consume us. It will be intense but I know you will adapt quickly.”

You turned to face him, showing him a smile, you were a bit confuse with the whole ritual but you trusted him. With a nod, he grabbed your hand and carefully guide you to stand in the middle of it. You gasped at the feeling. Your hands quickly going to the gills on your neck.

“K'uk'ulkan.” You whispered in alarm. “The water…?”

“Do not fear.” He said. “It is part of the ritual, the waters will disappear from the pillars, allowing us to finally become one.” Namor grasped your hand and began guiding you to the edge of the pillars.

You swallowed, there was something that began lighting inside your body, your arousal dampening your tights. You let him guide you, stopping suddenly.

He began speaking, the beautiful language that surrounded your people, you tried to keep up with him, but for some reason, it felt too personal, like he was speaking directly to Ix Chel. The words flowed out of him like water, so beautiful and natural that you felt to compel to look away. Then he took your hand and finally entering together.

Then you felt it.

You gasped, a swirl of emotions whirring inside of your body. It was a strange feeling, an energy so powerful that you felt every building phase. You began to panic at the intense feelings.  You felt it everywhere, on the tips of your fingers, traveling towards the hair on your skin. You clenched your fists in an attempt to contain it. But it was with no avail.

“K'uk'ulkan.” You gasped, closing the distance, trying to touch any part of his body. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the control you had on your body was beginning to fade away. You were afraid, this was something nobody warn you about it.

Namor voice was strained, he felt it as intense as you. “Hold on to it, savor it, mi amor, savor it.”

“K'uk'ulkan.” You stuttered. “Wh-what is happening?”

“Ix Chel is looking within us.” He confidently said. “She is determining if our paths are meant to unify.”

“How will she know?” You whispered.

“You will know.”

Your stomach began feeling warm, a feeling that began spreading through your entire body. Your lips parted, a strong pleasure overtaking your senses. You grasp Namor’s arm, a moan escaping your lips as a throbbing was pulsing in between your tights.

“I…” You gasped.

“I know.” Namor hissed, “Yo lo sé, mi amor.”

Your breaths became almost to painful to take. Your dress felt to heavy and painful on your body. Your knees almost buckled completely if it wasn’t for Namor’s arms holding you closer to him. He pressed you even closer, you grabbed his arms, your nails scratching them. He made you walked towards the pillows that were lying there on the center. Every step made your clit throb with desire.

“K'uk'ulkan, teech k’abéet ti’teen, béet.” You panted. “K'uk'ulkan, now, please.”

“Aún no, mi amor.” The tendons on his neck strained at his words, he was almost losing control. “Not yet.”

You groaned in frustration. Your fingers caressing the tightness on his shorts, his cock was hard and the feeling of your fingers made him buck his hips against them, trying to feel some sort of friction. He laid you on the pillows, taking -ripping- off the dress off your body, your arousal leaking from your cunt, down on your thighs. Namor groaned, the delicious smell filling his senses, blinding him in pleasure. He took away his shorts.

You gasped, his magnificent body completely nude and only for you. His muscles were strained, making him seem even huger from before. His hair was damped, sticking against his face, small drops of sweat dropping on your naked breasts. He looked wild. Untamed. Arousal clouding his eyes.

You wanted him with desperation, a feeling that part of yourself was scared off. You didn’t want foreplay or any kind of teasing. You wanted. No. You needed his cock, you needed it to finally appease that arousal, you needed it deep inside you, harsh thrusts, stretching you, pounding you, consuming every part of your senses. You wanted him to be the sole focus of your attention. Only him.

You moaned when he pulled your thighs open, positioning himself. Finally.

“She has accepted our union, mi amor.” He growled, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. “You are finally mine, only mine.” Namor slid inside with a powerful thrust.

You moaned loud.

You choked on your breaths, your arms falling at your side, he was huge, so huge, massive inside you, his cock stimulated everything. Every thrust sent a shock of pleasure straight to your clit. You groaned when he found that sweet spot inside you. Oh, how sweet pain that was.

“Made only for me.” He groaned, his hands grabbing tightly at your thighs, you could only imagine the color they would take after this mating session. “Tight, so tight and only for me.”

Namor groaned, desperate thrusts. He dropped his body down on yours, his hands grabbing yours and placing them above you, holding them tight. You cried out as his scent hit your senses, you tried to get your hands free but he didn’t let you, fucking you even harder.

Your eyes opened and found him watching you with madness on them, his gaze was unwavering. “Your cunt is taking me so beautifully.” He bent down, stealing a kiss. “Your sweet cunt was made for my cock.”

You were being claimed and you loved it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, an unbelievable pleasure forcing your senses. Demanding more. Your vision almost blacked out, you could barely breath, your back arching as your cunt tightened against his cock, trying to milk his seed out, but he didn’t give it up. Not yet. You were panting at the intensity of your climax but he still didn’t let up, his hips continuing their thrusts, seeking more.

Namor was nearing his end but he was holding back, he needed for you to completely surrender to him.

“K'uk'ulkan.” You whispered, your voice completely a shell from the moaning. “I am yours, take me… claim me.”

There it was.

He groaned. “You want this, mi amor?”

You moaned in response. Your cunt tightened against his cock, his hands leaving yours, taking your thighs and forcing them a bit more upward, going deeper inside you. “Tell me.”

“I am yours, only yours.” You whispered again. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed you hard. You gasped into the kiss and Namor took the opportunity to force his tongue inside your mouth. He brook the kiss.

“Take me, mi amor.” He rasped, fucking you harder, his cock filling you, stretching you even further. “Take what is yours.”

“Yes!” You screamed as his thrusts became erratic, he fucked you so hard that you didn’t even know how he was going deeper. “K'uk'ulkan!”

Your mouth fell opened, no words or sounds escaping it. A powerful climax almost blinded you, your tows curling, your nails scratching his back. He licked your mouth.

“Mine.” He snarled, changing his angle, going deeper. His hands grasping your ass, forcing you to meet his thrusts. “Tell me you are mine.”

“Yours, yours, K'uk'ulkan, only yours.”

“(Y/N).” He growled, throwing his head back as hot streams of his cum painted your insides with each thrust, emptying his seed completely inside.

Namor fell on top of you, breathing heavily, resting there for a moment before rolling off you, taking you with him and letting you rest on his chest, his cock still inside you, keeping his seed there safely, but still began leaking from your cunt but neither of you care, not wanting to move.

“K'uk'ulkan.” You whispered against his chest, kissing it softely.

He hummed in content, his hands caressing your sweaty back. “Rest, mi amor. This will not be the las of our fucking, you need to rest.”

[wint3r-h3art]

Push & Pull | Namor

summary: He’s very good at pushing you, but you’re just as good at pulling him in and stringing him up. 

Word count: 4.3k (Sorry I really got carried away 🥲)

warnings: Established relationship, brain rotting smut. no plot at all. fingering, cunnilingus, face riding, vaginal sex & choking, sub!Namor

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

a\n: I’m very much hungover, but I pulled through and finished this. This is the No Power AU. Talokan is its own independent nation in this one. No beta as usual, so if I missed anything, I apologize. If you do like it, please please comment & reblog. It means a lot. Feedback just helps me create more works.

**** Do not repost and claim it as your own, or copy, or plagiarize my work in any sort of form. 

His eyes fixed on you from the moment you got out of the bathroom. Through the vanity mirror, you noticed the way those liquid ambers stared right through you. An underlying hunger simmered beneath the surface was almost palatable.

Heat slowly slithered up your neck and straight to your face. Your breath caught in your throat as your heartbeat surged. For that brief second, you knew what that look meant, yet you didn’t dare to acknowledge it, knowing full well that none of you would make it out of this hotel room tonight if you state the obvious.

You exhale for the first time as you slowly put on the pair of jade earrings he had gifted you on your birthday. It was obvious that your hands were trembling from the anticipation alone. Your gaze shifted to the mirror, watching him watch you as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. You just knew that kind of look. 

The thought excited you because right now it was all about the will–who would break first? It wouldn’t be long–it had never been long. Nine times out of ten were you. 

“Aren’t you going to dress?” you asked, turning slightly to give him a full view of your cleavage. 

The smooth silky dress left little to the imagination. Namor could see the way your nipples pressed against the thin fabric, and the sight made his cock twitch in his pants. His mouth watered at the thought of what it would feel like to have those small, perky buds in between his lips. 

You looked extra delectable tonight, and the thought of going out to the gala suddenly felt like a pain in the ass for him. He wanted nothing more than to have you begging and pleading for him instead of this diplomatic dinner that none of you wanted to be there. Surely his cousin, Namora can help him out of this little predicament.

“I don’t take long, in yakunaj,” he murmured almost too slowly that you could only pick out the word “in yakunaj”. “I prefer watching you getting ready instead.” 

The smirk almost gave it away. Oh yes, he loved to watch you dress alright. It was because there was something satisfying about the thought of fucking you out of it that made him giddier than a kid in the candy store.

“Do I want to know what you are thinking, Ku’ku’lkan?” Your hands were too busy trying to put on the pearl necklace, but of course to no avail.

He chuckled. You both knew the sort of game he was playing. He was trying to be coy with you, acting as if he wasn’t going to do anything about you. Oh, you definitely knew about his little game. A little push was all it takes before you completely surrender yourself to him–something about you willingly submitting to him just aroused him. 

You took his little chuckle as the answer to your question. He had no reason to hide his desire from you–why would he if you were more than willing to give in to him so easily?

“Here, let me help you,” he said softly–almost too calmly as he shifted underneath the comforter, trying to hide his raging hard-on from you. 

Your breath shuddered when you felt his warm fingertips brush against the nape of your neck. Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore as your back warmed by his presence. Every molecule in your body was aware of his proximity, and the need to be closer to him was stronger than ever. His magnetism was a danger on its own. 

And you loved every moment of it.

Your body stiffened at that instance as if you were trying to compose yourself, but that seemed to slowly fall apart the moment you felt his hand slip into the back of your gown and reached around to cup your breasts. Namor found your nipples and he tugged at them, twisting and stroking until the small nubs became erected. His large, calloused palms massaged and kneaded your soft mount slowly, taking his sweet time to relish the way they feel.

Your head fell back against his shoulder with a low, shaky moan.

“I always love the way they feel, do you know that?” he said almost lowly all you could feel was the reverberation that shot from your back. Your eyes fluttered as you watched him through the mirror. His desires finally reached a boiling point. You could feel his lust seeping through his very pore.  “I’m going to worship them, sucking on them until you come while my cock is buried deep inside you.”

Words failed you as his words slowly registered in your mind. You couldn’t help but whine in his arms, imagining the things he was going to do to you.

“You like that don’t you, the way your cunt gripped my cock so tightly that I could barely move?” He spoke as he rolled his hips. “Feel that. My cock gets really hard whenever I think about your pussy.”

“In rein….” you managed to utter out loud in between your gasps as you relished the way his clothed cock feels against the cleft of your ass cheeks. Hoping and wishing for more as your pussy clenched and unclenched at the emptiness. Your arousal practically leaked through the thin fabric of your pantie as he continued to ground his bulge on you. Your body felt like it was set ablaze as the image of him sinking deep within you was becoming more apparent.

Namor released you to tear the back of your gown open. A surprised gasp slipped past your lips at the way the cool air felt against your feverish skin.

“If you keep doing that, I won’t have anything else to wear,” you panted. 

The dress he just tore into shreds was one of your favorites, and he knew it too. Your tone betrayed you though. You loved this–you loved it when your lover was rough with you. Something about the way he let himself go and embraced his instinct. You wanted more. You needed more. You wouldn’t mind begging him either. He loved it. It fed his ego. Arching your back, your breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest. A shaky breath slipped out of you and stared up to meet his gaze. 

His need outweighed his patience. He caught you, and his mouth captured yours with a rough and demanding kiss that made your head spin. Desperation filled his vein as he settled you down on the large California king bed. He practically tore at his pants as he stared down at you. You tried to swallow, but your throat was bone dry as your eyes landed on cock.

“I’ll buy you many more, in yakunaj.” He said before pulling your thin, flimsy panties off of you with his teeth. His eyes trained on you as he was doing so.  “Now spread your legs for me.”

Biting your lips, you slowly spread your thighs apart, bearing all of yourself to him. You watched the way his gaze darkened. Namor licked his lips as he joined you on the bed, pinning your hips down, his gaze now on your glistening cunt. You swore those minutes felt like ages as you struggled below him, wishing for him to do something with his mouth or with his cock.

His thumb pressed against your swollen bud, rubbing in a slow circle. He glanced down at you, his eyes were like liquid gold beneath the amber light. You could see the way Adam’s apple bobbled by the way he was trying to soothe the ache of his dry throat. There was nothing more magnificent than you are now, laying here, all spread out. Wet and ready for him.

Namor slowly stroked your pussy lips between his fingers, squeezing it slightly till your slippery juice leaked out between the folds to coat his digits. It was hard to not moan when he was toying with you like this.

“Darling…” you said again, your lids fluttering as you tried to look at him through the haze of this lust of yours.

“...Hmmm?” He asked, looking at your face as he dipped two fingers inside you. A groan rippled in his throat as he began to pump in and out of you. “This pussy of yours…I swear is going to be the death of me.”

Your body jolted at the welcoming intrusion. You slowly rocked yourself onto his fingers, and his lips pulled back into a grin as he slowly stroked himself with his other hand. 

You watched him through bleary eyes. Your mouth hung agape as you watched the way his large hand slowly glided along his hard shaft. Beads of his precum glistened underneath the dim light,  leaking out of the slit of the fat, bulbous head of his cock, and it made your mouth water.  

“Hmm, look at you getting off on my fingers…hmmm. It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

You nodded as you rocked faster onto him, wishing for more.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come for me.”

Your fingers slid down to your slicked cunt, circling and rubbing at your body until you moaned heatedly. It felt so good, but it wasn’t as good as having your husband touching you instead. You closed your eyes and imagined the way his rough fingertips worked you instead. You wanted to feel his mouth on your clit, sucking on it and licking at it as his cock was deep inside you.

Namor’s lips pulled back into a satisfying smile as he watched you slowly work yourself up. You were practically panted now as he continued to pump his fingers all the way to his knuckle, making the wet squelching sound even more apparent. Your slick was practically coating his hand the more he worked on you.

You on the other hand were slowly unraveling right before his very eyes as your fingers moved more firmly now on your clit. A moan worked its way from your dry throat as the warm desirous heat swelled within you. 

His name fell from your lips tremulously as he could feel your wall begin to flutter around his thick digits. You would have been shied and hid your face if it wasn’t for how eager you were for your release. The need that pulsed through your vein was scorching hot, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it burn your entire being. 

You came with a shout as your thighs clenched almost too hard around him. Namor could feel your release coating his hand as he slowed his movement. He watched as your body convulsed before him as you tried to ride out your orgasm.

Breathing hard, you stared up to meet his gaze. His lips were on yours again with a hot and demanding kiss that left you weak and breathless. His thick, masculine body lay between your legs as he kept all of his weight on his knees. His erection pressed against the center of your body. Every inch of you felt like it was being burned from the imprint of his touches alone, and he had barely done anything more than fucking you on his fingers. It was almost madness how much your body reacted to his touch alone.

Gone was the control by the way you wrapped your legs around his thick and muscular waist as you returned his kiss with a full force of your own. Your boldness surprised him, yet intrigue him, and his desire to have you take over this little dance was becoming apparent.

“I want to be on top,” you murmured as you struggled to pull back from his kiss. Your lover’s eyes seemed to glint underneath the dim light. You could see the small smirk that was etched at the corner of his perfect visage. You could feel his cock twitch in between your legs as well. Perhaps the prospect of you being on top turned him on, or perhaps it was your tone–so bold and so determined. It thrilled him and excited him.

Without a single word of protest, he rolled over, bringing you on top of him. Namor stared at you. His large palm grazed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He could feel the way your heart beat almost frantically against your chest. Your nerve may be fraying, but he damn knew the kind of depravity awaited him.

You stared down at him with a smirk of your own before you leaned in and kissed him, tracing the outline of his perfect lips with your tongue. He didn’t have to ask because you were as eager as him. 

This week has been as stressful for him as it was for you. Everyone wants a piece of him one way or another. A diplomatic lunch to dinner to the fucking gala that you knew he didn’t want to attend. Even with you here with him, he barely spent time with you as his kingly duty demanded his attention more so than ever. His every move was being watched and criticized. Just like when Wakanda made itself known to the world, the nation of Talokan had been thriving in secret from foreign invasion for centuries. The nation had just recently made itself known for its existence to the world. Because of this, he had been asked to come here for a little talk–which you might have guessed was for the purpose of trading or sharing the resources. Knowing how unyielding your husband could be. The gala was merely a disguise in their attempt at negotiation.

He tasted so decadence–of chocolate and coffee as your tongue slid and grazed over him. Your hand gripped his hair, holding him to you as your mouth devoured him. It was all lips and tongue and a pure carnal desire that permeated your blood. Your response only urged him closer to kiss you deeper until both of you were panting and breathless.

His arms went around you. His blunt nails dug and scrapped along your back as you arched into him, pressing your sensitive nipples into his hard chest. You could feel his muscles corded and strained beneath your pussy by the way he tried to control himself from doing anything more. 

“Tell me what you want, in reina?” he asked as you pulled back to stare into his warm brown eyes. Devotion filled his gaze as he looked up to meet yours. This was him trying his best to give control to you.

“I think retribution is much needed–especially, after the stunt you pulled on my dress earlier.”

Namor bit his lips to hide his little smile as he tried to compose his expression.

“And what kind of retribution are you asking?”

“I think…you’re talking far too much, in yakunaj. It’s time for you to put that mouth of yours into good use, don’t you think so?”

A noise emitted from his throat as he knew what you meant. Namor helped you up until you were kneeling astride his head, giving quite a view of your drenching pussy. His hand immediately trailed down to his shaft as he slowly stroked it to ease the ache. 

“Not yet, darling,” you gripped his hand, halting from whatever of his movement. “Make me come first, and perhaps I’ll consider letting you use my mouth.”

He smirked and let go of his shaft altogether as his hands were now gripping your ass cheek. You could feel him trying his best to not knead at your supple flesh as he stared up to meet your gaze. An undeniable hunger simmered beneath those liquid ambers.

Without a word you slowly sank yourself down onto his mouth. A yelp left your lips at the way his tongue greeted your slicked heat, plunging into your drenching pussy with shallow penetration. His tongue rasped through the slit from bottom to top. The rough, coarse hair of his beard scratched and burned your sensitive skin in the most delicious burn. Your hand flew straight to his har, bunching in tightly in your hand while he was clasping your thighs and holding you there.

His moan reverberated right through your clit, making the small bud throb and ache. There was an intent in the way he was eating your cunt. He walked a fine line in the way he was worshiping you and using you to state his own desires at the same time. Every lick and every flicker of his tongue was meant to show his devotion to please you, yet at the same time, he was sating his own desires that felt endless.

Obscene sounds filled the room, yet none of you seemed to care or noticed. Your hips rolled, and every now and then the tip of his nose would brush against your clit, sending your nerve into a frenzy. Your husband was being a menace at the way he was slurping and moaning so loudly that you would have been mortified by the sound alone if you were sane. The thing was, you weren’t. You were as gone as he was.

Heat curled at the pit of your stomach as jolts of pleasure began to build until you felt like you couldn’t take anymore. The warmth of his mouth and the moist heat of his tongue were killing you slowly as your pleasure continued to build. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest as you were trying to keep up with your arousal. Your wall began to flutter around his tongue the more you ground yourself on his mouth, and eventually, like a tidal wave crashed against the rock, you came hard with a strangled noise as your body convulsed and strained above him. Your thighs clenched almost too tightly around him that it would have choked a normal man out, but not him–not your husband. 

Namor loved this sort of reaction, and he loved that he could give you such a mindblowing release with just his tongue. It was certainly something for his ego there. He only encouraged further as his grip locked down on you tight, pulling you until you covered him with nothing but your essence. His tongue continued to lap at your release, drinking you up until the last drop.

Your legs shook slightly as your body was still sensitive to his touches. Reluctantly you pulled back to sit on his chest and stared down at him. A visible, shit-eating grin was more than visible on his face. This was not a punishment to him–oh no, he was enjoying this a bit much, you thought.

“Do I want to know what you are thinking right now, in rein?”

“No. I just love the way you taste, darling,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his fingers before putting those same fingers into his mouth. The sight made you quiver. Your pussy barely recovered from the mind-blowing orgasm he had just pulled out of you. How in the world are you going to get this man to beg for you?

“Truly?” You asked as you lazily stroked his erection, watching him trying to stop whatever noise from leaving those lips of his. His precum leaked out of the slit and slowly rolled down the shaft and onto your hand. His eyes fluttered shut as his mouth parted, relishing the way the warm flood of pleasure worked through him.

No word came out of him as he struggled to maintain his sanity. His hand gripped the sheet beneath as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

“Tell me what you want, my darling,” you said softly as your hand continued to work his thick cock. He was so heavy, and warm in your palm. He was more than ready. “Beg me to ride you.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as his body arched off the bed briefly. You could feel him shudder beneath you, and you know he was at the breaking point. Just a little more push and he would break, you smirked.

“Don’t be stubborn now, my sweet husband. Surely, you want this as much as I do,” you tease as you slowly knelt astride his body. Slowly you sank down until you were hovering over his cock. You slowly moved up and down, coating his shaft with your moist, slicked heat, but you made no effort to put him inside you.

“Feel how wet I am for you, darling?” you teased as you leaned forward. Your hand was holding onto his broad chest as you rutted yourself on top of him.

And then you hear it, the low rumble of his voice reverberating from his chest. It was so low that you couldn’t make it out the first time around.

“What is it, in rein?”

Gritted his teeth, he spoke. “Please, fuck me.” His eyes glossed over. His hands grasp at the soft skin of your hips. Desperation filled his voice as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“Now that isn’t as bad is it?” you smirked as you grasped his length and lined the fat head of his cock against your entrance.

His breath hitched in his throat as you slowly sank onto his length, slowly inching down. You both moaned in unison at the way he stretched out your tight hole. Namor fought his breath for control. You were so tight and hot around his cock. Your muscles gripped him tightly in your warm, slicked heat. His mind scrambled for control of his own body, but it felt like his rationality was gone.

His large palm slid down your ass as you slid up and down his thick cock. You were so full and oh so stretched out. You could feel every ridge and every vein that ran underneath his shaft. Your brain filled with nothing except for the thought of being so stuffed up by his cock. His warmness and his hardness took your breath away whenever you sank all the way down until your ass hit his thighs.

“You feel so good, in reina,” he groaned, hands squeezing at your hips every time you sank down a little harder than before.

Your hand mindlessly roamed his broad chest, hand squeezing at his pectoral occasionally before it landed on his shoulder. 

“Wrap your hand around my neck…” he mumbles. 

“What?” You stopped your movement altogether as you stared down at your husband.

“Please put your hand around my neck and slowly squeeze it as you fuck me,” he spoke again as he slowly lifted your hips up and began to pound into you from below. 

Staring deep into his eyes, your hand slowly wrapped around his thick neck firmly, but not too tightly. You could feel him swallowing as he continued to piston his hip upward to meet your heat. You groaned as the pleasure clouded your mind once more. You did as he had asked, and you have never seen him lose himself this way before.

His mouth hung agape as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His movement faltered as you took over to ride him hard, bouncing on his cock as if your life depended on it.

You have heard him moan before, but not like this. There was a raw edge to it that made your pussy throb and ached more than before. It didn’t take long of course as he came inside you, dumping his load until it started to leak out of you as you continued to fuck him.

He was practically heaving at this point as you slowed your movement. His eyes were bleary, dazed and so spent as he lay there. His soft curls were disheveled as he brought his hand to his lips, trying to bite the knuckle as he bathed in the afterglow of his release.

You were still on top of him, but you were no longer moving. You were as breathless as he was as you sat there with his now soft cock inside of you. The aftermath was messy, but you didn’t care. You knew it always ended with one of you covered in a mess.

And for once, you were thankful it was your husband.

“Remind me to choke you next time…” you said in between your heavy breathing. “I’ve never seen you this worked up before….”

Namor chuckled beneath you as heat flooded his face. “If my queen wants to be on top more often, who am I to protest such a request?”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to hide the smile. Oh, now he’s in a good mood. 

“Hmm, perhaps we can start by getting ready for that gala that is thrown in your honor?”

Your husband grumbled as he rolled to his side, bringing you with him as well. “Perhaps in a bit.”

“We are going to be late,” you protested, slapping his chest, but to no avail. Namor felt like he needed a nap, so he was going to get that nap of his.

“Tell them we operate on our time…the Talokanil time. They won’t know what that is.”

You could feel his shit-eating grin by the way he was mumbled in your chest. He was in that mood, and you just couldn’t do anything about it…even if you are his queen.

“If Namora decided to yell at you, I will not stop her…”

Your husband looked up from your chest. “15 minutes…that is all I ask.”

You sighed. “Fine. 15 minutes. I’m setting the timer now.”

Your husband let out a groan as he pulled you closer to him. “Fine.”

a/n: some translation from the fic.

in yakunaj: my love, my darling, my dearest

in rein: my king

in reina: my queen

[scribblingapparition]

El Dios de la Brisa (K'uk'ulkan x Reader) (2)

Summary: You are a passionate Marine Biologist who has lived in the Yucatan Peninsula for some time now. After an encountered with a fabled god more information is learned about your past. The discoveries you make continue to unravel the world around you. This is only the beginning.

[Word count: 4,937]

☀

For the past couple of nights you were having the same recurring dream.

Jumbled fragmented memories tried their best to depict a clear enough picture that you could make sense of. All you could remember from your dreams was that you were awakened by the sound of a haunting song that put you in a trance; the melody led you to the beach where the villagers stood like statues, unaffected by the song, watching as you walked into the sea covered in heads peeking out of the water. They covered the entire bay. There seemed to be more eyes watching you from the water than there were people in Mérida. 

You tried and tried but you could not remember what happened before it led you to such a scene or what happened after you walked into the ocean and the water rose over your head leading you into the darkness.

You did remember, however, that before the waves took a hold of you completely you looked up to see the mighty shadow of the king that flew imposingly overhead. His features were covered in darkness but he was outlined by the moon. In his hand was his spear, glistening with power. Though you could not see his expression you could read his satisfaction as the waves claimed you as their own.

Correction, as he claimed you for himself.

K'uk'ulkan.

It was no surprise to see him in your dreams. He had easily conquered your thoughts even during the day. 

There were those that claimed dreams held meanings. You were never one to buy into it too much given that most of your dreams normally didn’t make any sense and it was logical that someone like him spent so much time in your thoughts that he could pop up in a dream or two. But you were not one to have the same dream over and over. Especially not the same exact dream, while only being able to remember the same exact things despite the fact your gut feeling told you there was a lot happening before and after the scene you could remember.

☀

“¿Crees que los sueños tienen significado?”

(Do you believe dreams have meaning?)

You had been invited by a friend you had made in the village, Clara and her husband Jorge, to a fishing trip. It felt so nice to leave the bay and enjoy the open ocean while someone else was manning the boat. Together, you and Clara worked on preparing the nets you would be fishing with. They had been one of the first to approach you when you had arrived at the village and though you felt familiar to their culture thanks to your mentor sharing it with you they were the two you learned from the most.

The Maya had never disappeared despite what the history books liked to say. Their descendants were still living in their ancestral lands proudly keeping their traditions alive among the strong colonial and Spanish influence left behind. You had seen this long before you met the god their pyramid was dedicated to and you felt unbelievably fortunate to learn directly from them.

“Claro que si. Todos los sueños tienen significado, incluso los que crees que no. Mi gente cree firmemente en el hecho que los sueños son algo que tu alma puede ver venir.” She said kindly, moving from working on the net to preparing the bait that would be used. “Has tenido algo en mente por días, me di cuenta. De niños, los mayores siempre nos animaban a hablar de nuestros sueños. Nos ayudaron a interpretarlos.”

(I sure do. All dreams have meaning, even the ones you think don't. My people strongly believe in the fact that dreams are something that your soul can see coming. You've had something on your mind for days, I could tell. As kids we are always encouraged by the elders to talk about our dreams. They helped us interpret them.)

You took a look at Jorge before turning to her, putting your net down and leaning your elbows on your knees. “¿Puedes ayudarme a interpretar el mío?”

(Could you help me interpret mine?)

You felt nervous talking about it.

You knew she could tell. 

Growing up without anyone meant not trusting those around you with anything you considered personal. You had never had a sibling to talk about your dreams and aspirations to. You didn’t have a mother or a father to go to for comfort after a nightmare. It had taken you decades to find a friend you could fully trust and she was gone. You kept your personal life a secret from everyone, even the friends you were with now did not know much about who you truly were. You talked to everyone in the village; they knew you were a hard worker, they knew you loved the ocean, they knew you to be a respectful yet stubborn individual, they knew you to be closed off. 

Yet they still welcomed you like Altagracia had.

Perhaps they all shared that gift of being able to look further beyond what they simply saw in front of them.

It wasn’t only talking about yourself that made you nervous, it was also the subject. You had given him your word that you would not reveal his existence to anyone. Ever. He had been generous, trusting you enough to take your word as truth and allowed you once again to step into his oceans. And now you were going to speak about him in his waters. You feared betraying him especially when it wasn’t your intention. Some secrets that were better off staying as secrets. You knew this.

But you were having trouble processing all of this alone.

“Agradezco su confianza en mí. Si me lo permite, sería un honor escucharlo.”

(I appreciate your trust in me. If you would allow me, I would be honored to listen.)

You trusted your instincts. Clara had never once given you a reason to doubt her.

Framing it as a dream and only a dream, you began to explain what you could remember. 

Her hands moved purposefully as she separated the bait and prepared the hooks, eyes meeting yours to confirm that she was listening as she worked yet keeping them away to help calm your nervousness. It was not the first time that outsiders were enchanted by the ocean. The gods of her people were present, they had always been, and those who sought after them with hate in their hearts were struck down by their fury. You had not appeared to have come to their village with any of those intentions. You had come here to heal even if you had not known it at the time.

But it seemed that there was more at work here than healing.

You felt better after you were done though your hands gripped onto the net tightly. The ocean did not change around you. The sun continued to shine brightly, the ocean continued to be fairly calm and docile, the wind had not gotten any stronger in anger. You had described the king as a serpent rather than a man; detailing the colorful feathers of his headpiece to be the feathers covering the body of the winding beast that slithered through the air as if it were creating the ocean breeze itself.

Clara placed the last of the hooks in their bin and took a moment to think before facing you. There was a change in her kind eyes; the softness was still there but there was also apprehension. The serpent god was many things; a bringer of peace and founder of Chichen Itza, the one who was there at the beginning of time and put forth order when helping create all things, the one who fiercely protected those who inhabited the lands and dwelled in the depths of the ocean. His powers over creation also allowed him to destroy anything he pleased as there was nothing in the world that wouldn’t submit to his might.

“Es recurrente.” You spoke to fill the silence more than anything, her dark eyes pierced your own and it pushed you to speak without meaning to. “Cada noche…nada cambia. ¿Deberia estar preocupada?”

(It's recurring. Every night nothing about it…changes. Should I be worried?)

She took your hand in hers. “Tu alma siempre ha pertenecido al océano. No debes temerlo en sueños o incluso ahora. El dios que estás viendo es poderoso. Creo que este sueño es una representación de ti alcanzando un nuevo capítulo en tu vida. El agua es el elemento del cambio y K'uk'ulkan representa tu vida llevándote al océano para ser renovada. Le k'áak'náabo' a k'aaba'.”

(Your soul has always belonged to the ocean. You shouldn't fear it in dreams or even now. The god you are seeing is powerful. I believe this dream is a representation of you reaching a new chapter in your life. Water is the element of change and K'uk'ulkan represents your life leading you to the ocean to be made new. The sea calls to you.)

The moment she was done speaking, after speaking in her native tongue, the boat jumped, hitting a rather rough wave causing everything to be thrown around. You quickly moved to grab the hooks to distract yourself from how fast your heart was beating. You heard Clara ask her husband what had happened and he quickly replied that it was nothing but a wave and that he could see the other boats lowering their anchors. You thanked her quickly and nodded when she smiled and moved to help her husband but you could not forget the cloud of darkness over her eyes when you mentioned seeing the serpent god.

You trusted Clara but now you weren’t sure if her thoughts on your dream were true or if she had spun it into a positive tale for your sake. 

Your soul belonged to the ocean and your life was changing. That had been her interpretation. In your dream, you had felt his satisfaction in him luring you into the water. What did it mean? Why did you feel it in your bones that this was more important than just any dream?

“¿Lista para pescar?” Jorge grinned as he clapped his hands moving to help you arrange the nets. He was the most energetic man you had ever met, always smiling and joking, radiating pure eagerness no matter what he was doing. “Es diferente a lo que estás acostumbrada. ¿Estás segura de que estás lista?”

(Ready to fish? It’s different from what you’re used to. Are you sure you’re ready?)

“¿Lista? Estuve lista toda la mañana!” You grinned, focusing on the task at hand and leaving your dream omens for another time.

(Ready? I’ve been ready all morning!)

“¡Entonces vamos! ¡Tu primera lección de pesca como lo hace mi gente!”

(Then let’s go! Your first lesson on fishing, how my people do it!)

☀

You couldn’t sleep.

Despite the long day out at sea fishing among the villagers, suffering the glare of the sun and feeling the exhaustion after a long day of work, the comfort of your bed offered no help to silence your thoughts.

The bottom of your dress brushed atop the sand as you wandered forward. You had been walking for quite some time. It didn’t worry you that it was after midnight and that you were walking along a new path away from the bay because above the treetops proudly stood a pyramid that would always serve as a beacon home.

Home.

You still weren’t used to that word. You don’t think you’ve said it out loud in a really long time despite feeling it in your heart. It just never felt right. When would it feel right? When you followed your dream and followed an unknown and powerful god into the water? That would never happen. You would never really have a home and that was okay. Not everyone needed one. Nomads existed in every culture, across all of time, as proof that not everyone felt the same desire to lay down their roots and stay in one place forever.

Because that was your desire, right? You didn’t want to stay. Or did you?

The frustration inside of you came from never allowing yourself to stay in one place for too long and now that you have you began to doubt everything. That much you knew. But then there was the unknown element of the absolutely alluring and dangerous man you had met that asked the same questions that made you run your entire life.

Answers to those questions only ever led to paths filled with pain. 

That’s why you had to run.

That’s why you were taught to run.

Heading out from between the trees, you walked towards a new section of the beach you haven't been to before. This one was rocky. There were multiple different rock formations alongside the water and it created perfect pools for little creatures to live in. You immediately headed over to see if you could find a hermit crab or a starfish. You loved those little guys.

“I really should’ve brought a flashlight,” You muttered as you looked around the ponds, lifting your dress so it wouldn’t get too wet. “I gotta come back in the daytime and take some notes.”

A noise from behind you caught your attention.

Your eyes narrowed as you turned around and scanned the area. It was a bird. It had to be a bird. But after midnight? That wasn’t common. Yet there was no denying what you were hearing, the consistently singular note chirping of a bird that you could not see. Stepping down from an elevated rock pool, you turned a bit towards the moonlight and that’s when you saw it. 

A Resplendent Quetzal.

A smile formed on your lips as you watched the brightly colored bird fly overhead, circling you as it called out into the night, filling the silence and joining the sounds of the waves. It was beautiful! They were known for their stunning green, red, and blue feathers that looked iridescent in the light.

The resplendent quetzal was sacred to the Maya.

Venerated as the god of the air, symbol of goodness and light, it was their feathers and colors that were attributed to…

K'uk'ulkan.

Green, red, and blue feathers adorned the body of the great serpent as it glided through the air; a god of the wind, sharing its glory and beauty just as this bird was doing with you. Another one of his symbols appeared before you. Was this a message? No way was it a coincidence.

You moved closer to the beach keeping your eyes focused on the bird until something else caught your eye. 

Being pushed into the sand by the waves was your mask.

Your diving mask.

The one you had lost when he left you inside the pyramid. It was as if the ocean was presenting it to you. Immediately, you looked towards the ocean. There was nothing out of place in the dark water but you did not let that fool you. You continued to look out as you moved to grab the mask from the sand. A part of you was beyond delighted to have it back! Diving had not been the same without it and you had not enjoyed having to go back to using oxygen tanks that limited your time in the water. Another part of you was apprehensive, not worried per say, just wondering why you kept being the target of the feathered serpent’s generosity.

The mask had been modified.

The edges were lined with a green stone (or was it a gem?). Jade, maybe? Jade held a huge significance in Mayan culture, it was more important than gold; often being associated with water, the stone symbolized life and death. You remember Altagracia once explaining this to you on a trip in China, as the stone held a great importance in their culture too. There were pearls scattered along it as well, different sizes and shapes. The inside remained the same, mostly, aside from it now having a mouth piece that was meant to cover the area from your nose to your chin. You had no idea what it was made of or what it was meant to do but the shock had not worn off yet.

You had your mask back. 

He’d given it back to you.

“A satal. Ba'ale' le k'áak'náabo' a k'aaba'.”

(You are lost. But the sea calls to you.)

His appearance did not surprise you. All of the elements leading to him making his presence known were there. Your eyes stayed attached to your mask, running your fingers along the new designs as he landed on the soft sand in front of you. When your eyes did look up you took the opportunity to really see the being before you.

He was beautiful.

The water that ran down his neck and shoulders enhanced the rich color of his skin. He was in his element; iridescent as the feathers of the quetzal, sacred. There was not a man more confident than the king before you who’s dark eyes held yours with a yearning to discover the secrets in you. His neck was adorned with gold and pearls and there was what seemed to be armor on his arms and legs made of the same things. He was enchanting as a siren. It didn’t need to be said and according to your subconscious that had created your dreams, you had associated him with one.

“Tech le k'áak'náabo'.” You replied quickly after he raised a brow at your staring, which didn’t do much to save you from embarrassment but you could see that your response surprised him.

(You are the sea.)

He had not been expecting you to answer him back in his language much less understand what he was saying but you were a quick study. Not only that those had been the exact same words Clara had told you about your dreams. Had he heard that conversation?

“Tene' tuukulo'oba' le k'áak'náabo' bey iik', ba'ale' ma' ya'ab ba'ax a u taasik waye'.”

(I am both the sea and the air but I am not what has brought you here.)

“That’s when you lost me. I’m not fluent in your language. Nowhere near it, actually.”

“I am surprised you know what little you do.”

“I tend to learn quickly, given if the subject interests me.” You don’t know why you said it like that and to save yourself from any further embarrassment, you kept talking. “I didn’t expect to see this again. The mask. I thought I had dropped it last time we met, well, not last time exactly. The time before that. After the cave. Oh! The turtle is doing really well, by the way. There’s a small facility in Izamal and they’ve been doing a great job. They don’t have many animals currently so she’s been the star of the show.”

He extended out his hand and instinctively you placed whatever you had in your hands into his. He examined your mask for a moment before removing the mouth piece that had been attached by his people and held it up for you.

“Should the hard surface ever be compromised, this will allow you to breathe underneath the water until you are able to reach the surface.” He explained before he placed it back inside and it seemed to readily attach itself. “I am glad to hear that the creature is recovering.”

“I was wondering what that was for. Thank you.”

“The markings around it will give you safe passage should you be at depths where my people may see you.”

“That is very generous. Truly. Dios bo’otik.”

(Thank you)

You had nothing to give and even if you did you doubt that there was anything you could find that would please a man like him. He had given away too much information about his kingdom, aside from that fact that it did exist and it was as vast as the oceans, but just by how he looks you knew that there was little he could want. 

The oceans had always held riches and they were all his.

Perhaps that is why you gestured to the place beside you on the beach where you sat. You did not have riches or great knowledge to share but you could guess that a man who took care of an entire empire rarely got a moment of peace. You had the sense that you were right when he wordlessly took his place next to you.

He glanced at the oceans sparkling in delight at having his attention while you looked around for a moment, noticing the silence signaling the bird’s departure. For a moment you did consider if you had even truly seen it. He made no mention of it.

“There are not many that inhabit this area. The closest village still sits a good distance away from the pyramid’s beaches.” He observed.

“My, um, mentor had a research cabin built not far from the bay. That’s where I spend my time. The locals are cautious enough to build away. I’m sure it would make storm season just that more difficult to deal with if they were this close to the water.”

They were cautious but not only because of the storms. There were many stories that this beach held. Stories written by the Spanish of a demon that came from the water and cursed the land as hellfire rained down and destroyed what they had built. Stories from the villagers of an angry god that protected the area, that flew above the waters and feared nothing.

“Do you not fear the storms?”

“There are other things to worry about.” You surprised yourself with your honestly and made a point to evade his gaze when he turned to look at you.

“What do you fear?”

You kept your expression neutral, a mask you wore that was well practiced. It concealed your thoughts well enough. You were sure that he was not one of them; he clearly wasn’t from your world but there was nothing guaranteeing that it was safe to speak to him. You didn’t know him well enough. You didn’t know him at all.

He read you easily.

“My people were from these lands. They also did not fear the storms. They worshiped the god of the rain knowing that prosperity and new life would come after each strike of the clouds that would produce the rain and the thunder.”

“They were brave.”

“To put your trust in something unknown to you is a symbol of bravery.” His eyes met yours this time and though his tone was purely conversational, the meaning did not go over your head. “This world has forced many to hide who they are. It has taken their identities from them, made them ashamed of who they are. My people were freed of that fate. We were given something much greater this land.”

“I can only imagine what it looks like.” Your smile was soft but full of wonder. “I used to dream of finding Atlantis as a kid. In one of the homes I was in I found a map of the world in the basement. I spent so many days that summer reading all I could about it at the library and then running home and circling where I thought it was. A world away from this one? What I wouldn’t have given to just…disappear.”

“My city is called Talokan.”

“Talokan.” You carefully copied his pronunciation and felt proud when he nodded, pleased. “Do you spend a lot of time up here? For someone who lives at the bottom of the ocean you seem to have a pretty good understanding of what happens on the land.”

“It would be unwise of me not to know the ways your world changes. Many things tend to stay the same from my experience. It is key to notice what developments there are.” He continued. “I am from the sea as I am from here. My mother was from the surface world. These lands were hers. The god of rain had spoken to our shaman and through his blessing we were able to discover a way to live within the water. I was the first child born to my people. I am a mutant.”

Your reaction had given him just what he wanted.

It was a confirmation of what he had theorized from the moment he began to understand your connection to his world.

“Don’t say that!” Your words were harsh and your eyes were wide, standing to look around you as if you had forgotten it was the middle of the night and no one but the god shared the beach with you.

Everything told you to run.

You had not said, thought, or even acknowledged the existence of that word in years when you thought you had finally gotten away from it. You had outrun it. You had traveled the world, hopping from place to place, leaving few tracks and enjoying the safety of the oceans for years. 

So many years. 

Anger and fear had kept you alive for a long time.

You were not going to consider how your actions were disrespectful. It didn’t matter. He had been kind only to take advantage of your curiosity. You could handle the questioning, you could handle the looks of suspicion, all of that you could remain neutral to but that word, that damned word, would always find you.

He stood and watched as you walked closer to the water and threw the mask into the waves. He could see how angry you were at your own reaction, at the fact you left your emotions slip. You were choosing to stand your ground and defend your reaction. He could see that when you turned to him, eyes raging, dress caught in the breeze, moonlight forming a halo around you; you were a sight to behold.

“You can take your mask and stay the hell away from me.” Your eyes were watering and that only added to your fury.

“They have made you run for so long.”

He took a step closer to you. 

He was being cautious not because he feared he would be harmed but because there was something growing inside of him from the first time he met you. He couldn’t explain what it was. It went beyond you being a mutant. That wasn’t important. He wanted you to understand that you did not have to live in that fear that others forced you to feel because you were different.

Something deep within him was answering to the pull that brought him to you.

You held a hand in front of you. “Stay away from me!”

The king stood still as the once gentle waves rushed forward. It wasn’t an attack and he would not label it as one but the water had moved forward aggressively only to pool at his feet before sinking into the sand and retreating. You seemed shocked by this too; quickly lowering your hand and turning to look at the pools you had been exploring that were now filled to the brim with water.

A little crab had been displaced from his pool by the wave and was making his way back.

He did not move as you quickly made your way back to the tree line and disappeared. Your expression had gone from anger, to shock, to fear at the mention of a single word. There was no more proof needed. It had not been a coincidence that night and it had not been your instincts either. The water did not only call to you but it answered your own call for protection, even if it was just a gentle push back; it had answered your call against him.

Your mask lay at his feet. Once again brought back to the shore.

He took it in his hands and admired the craftsmanship of his people. He knew you had liked it too, he had seen you admiring it. The inscription on the side held a message. He doubted you understood it.  Perhaps one day he would tell you or your curiosity would lead you to the answer.

☀

The beach was soon left empty. 

It’s two inhabitants returning to their homes each with a chest filled with swirling emotions.

The god bowed his head in greeting to his people as he walked into his hut and laid the siibil (gift) he had made for you on the table that sat in the middle of the room. He had enjoyed the moment of peace at your side. But there was no time to focus on what was but rather on what will be. Tomorrow’s sun will rise and there is no guarantee you would be seen again. But there was a change in the wind and something told him, deep down, that you would be in Zama for many more sunrises.

He took the shell that had his paints and turned to the wall behind him.

This was only the beginning. 

☀

(Author's Note: I did take inspiration from the movie and I've been doing quite a bit of research to try and be as respectful as possible! I had the reader wandering to water as Queen Ramonda expressed that's how she found peace (I thought it would be interesting to have the reader find the opposite of peace doing the same thing), Zama is where the pyramid is located (which is modern day Tulum outside of the MCU), and the Maya did use nets to fish and you could see the Talokanil using nets a lot in that glorious scene where Shuri got a tour in the movie. Next Chapter should be up in a week! Thank you for all your support and for reading!)

{Taglist: @lockleysgrl @violet-19999 @kawaiikibi @lilyevans1 @rando-norse @lwqfhp @bookfrog242 @cypherpt5fttaehyung @tahiraseoti @damnzelsoul @user12875671}

(A/N: Also, someone had asked me why I use the sun as my little dividers! The Maya saw the sun as a symbol of a new age; K'uk'ulkan brought the sun to his people, signaling that new age! Thought it would be nice to include it in!)

[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt. 3

Part One  |  Part Two

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language, Violence, Depictions of drowning, Fluff

Summary: Delivered to safety following the battle on the beach, you are left reeling as you grapple with nightmares and questions about an uncertain future. But as you come to know more about the Talokanil people and grow closer to their king, Namor is faced with a question of his own -- what does he do with this stranger from the surface?

A/N: It’s heeeeeere!! As always, thank you so much for your patience, for being here, and for reading! And a BIG thank you just for taking the time to engage with and be a part of this story. You all have been so encouraging to me as new writer, and I love being able to create something around characters that so many hold so dear. Comments and reblogs make my heart happy, so please show some love, share the joy, and be kind!

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

Bullets fly as bodies hit the ground in front of you. There on the open beach, spears soar high above your head. Your gaze is drawn to the heavens as a chopper falls from the night sky. It crashes onto the shore below, an intense heat flashing against you as you shield your face from the explosion.

Suddenly, the sounds of dying men and burning metal fade as you lower your hand. You look down to find yourself waist-deep in a raging sea, the battle on the sand becoming a distant memory as waves beat harshly against you, unrelenting and unforgiving. A deafening melody accompanies each swell of the tide. It consumes your mind with pain and serenity as you are pulled further out into the ocean’s depths, following its call. The chorus grows louder as the water rises to your chest, building with intensity. Then, suddenly, all is quiet.

And there he is.

Hovering just above the water’s surface, his winged ankles carry him effortlessly. His reflection glistens perfectly against the water, now calm and smooth as glass. Illuminated by the full moon behind him, his body is covered in beautiful armor made of gold, jade, and other metals. A finely crafted serpent headpiece with bright feathers crowns his head, resting just above his brow.

Namor.

Wordlessly, Namor stretches out his hand, beckoning you to come to him. You reach out as if your very being is at his command. But, before you can grasp hold of him, the chorus of voices returns with a vengeance. A violent tide drags you under, swallowing you beneath the waves. Further and further down you are pulled as darkness surrounds you. Looking up toward the fading light, Namor’s silhouette above the surface dissolves from view. Your lungs burn as you begin to drown.

You jolt awake, your body shooting up in a cold sweat.

Chest heaving, your mind desperately claws its way back to reality. You quickly scan your surroundings, clinging to any detail that will anchor your consciousness and keep you from slipping back into that nightmare.

Gripping the stone surface beneath you, you take in every porous curve your fingertips graze over. Looking upward at the high rocky ceiling, you study the patterns of limestone stalactites that hang like icicles. Droplets of water run down a few of them, their melodious drips echoing in small pools below, falling like a gentle, rhythmic rain.

This is the place Namor had spoken of the last time you saw him. The one where he promised you would be safe. And for good reason — here in this cavern, you were well below the ocean’s surface and out of range of any agents who might come searching for you.

By your best guess, you figure you have been down here about two days. It’s hard to be sure without the reference to natural light. The cavern itself is beautiful, though. Illuminated by pockets of glow worms that drape down from the ceiling, their soft luminescence casts gorgeous green and blue hues across each surface their light touches.

As your heart rate begins to even out, you continue to survey the cave. You look over at your belongings, bag laying on the ground, clothes hanging on a line to dry. Your heart drops a bit when you see your little leather-bound book, its pages separated and spread out across the rocks. Ink bleeding. Pages ruined. You had made your best attempt to salvage what you could. Perhaps if you had asked Namora how the two of you would be traveling to this safe haven, you wouldn’t have brought a damn book with you.

The dissonance of the Talokan melody still rings in the back of your mind. You cradle your head between your knees, rubbing your temples with your thumbs when you hear light footsteps approach.

Looking up, you find a familiar face entering the cavern. No longer geared up for battle, Namora dawns a lovely dress that gathers over one shoulder and flows down to the floor. It moves like waves with each step she takes toward you. Instead of a spear in her hand, she now carries a small tray with a medley of food.

“Eat," Namora says, placing the tray on a small end table beside you. She then moves gracefully over to your draped belongings, removing them one by one from the line and folding them into a neat pile.

“Can I ask you a question?” You inquire as you begin to nibble on a piece of food.

Namora shoots a skeptical look over her shoulder but says nothing, so you ask anyway.

“Have you always been a warrior?”

Unresponsive, she keeps her attention on one of your shirts which she has just pulled from the line, tucking it into itself and placing it with the others.

“It's just, I mean the way you fought those agents on the beach, you are — you are very good at, you know—” you should have given more thought to what you were going to say before opening your mouth because as you reach the end of your sentence all that comes out is, “—killing people."

Nice.

You cringe at your comment. It hangs in the air, practically mocking you.

“I’m just saying," you add, trying to recover, "you obviously know what you’re doing. It was impressive. Me on the other hand…” Your voice trails as you raise your bandaged hand, recalling how your first instinct in a fight was to block a fucking knife with your open palm. Next to Namora, your combat skills pale by comparison.

Halting her task, Namora finally turns to face you in one calculated motion. She stares for a moment then her eyes quickly dart toward the side entrance of the cavern where she had come through only minutes ago. The entryway is empty. When her eyes settle back on you, there is resolve in them.

“Up.” She says, walking toward you with purpose.

“What?” You reply in a tone that matches the confused look on your face.

“Up.”

You do as you are told, hastily pushing yourself to your feet. Namora steps in close and then taps your elbows.

“Up.” She orders a third time, only now she seems to be referring specifically to your arms. You follow her instruction, raising them awkwardly out in front of your body. You can almost hear the sigh of hopelessness when Namora, her brow furrowed, grabs your arms and positions each one in a fighting stance. Slipping a hand up to your left wrist, she grips it firmly while tapping your exposed forearm with the palm of her other hand.

“Shield.” She says with emphasis. Her eyebrows raise, looking for any indication that you comprehend what she is trying to explain. When you nod, Namora moves her hand from your wrist up to your fingers, balling them into a fist and tucking your thumb on the outside.

“Weapon.”

Namora then steps back from you, putting her own arms up to mirror your stance.

“Shield, weapon,” she repeats, patting her forearm and waving her closed fist.

“Shield, weapon,” you echo back to her, nodding your head again as you begin to understand more fully.

Just as she begins to step back toward you, a deep voice calls from behind.

“Namora.”

You both look up to see the large man who wears the hammerhead skull standing in the entry of the cavern. Attuma is his name, as you have come to learn. Namora straightens her posture as she turns to face him, her hands behind her back as she squares her shoulders in a commanding stance.

Attuma saunters a few more feet into the cavern, then speaks to her in their native tongue, a language still unfamiliar to you. The two of them converse back and forth for a few moments. You may not know what they are saying, but you can tell they disagree about something — whether with each other or someone else, you are not sure.

Namora swiftly turns back to you, her face serious again and her brows pinched together.

Fighting lessons must be over.

“Come,” she says.

Without any further instruction, she pivots back toward Attuma, who also turns to leave. You quickly grab your belongings which Namora had folded for you, stuffing them into your bag. You sling it around your shoulder as you exit the cavern.

Following the two generals into a tunneled hallway, you find yourself moving through a network of caves, each tunnel connecting to a series of other openings and pools. Soon, Attuma splits off into one of these open caverns, nodding to Namora as he does so. Your eyes trail him as he joins with more Talokan warriors, and just as you stare at them, they stare at you.

You continue walking behind Namora past them, their whispers reverberating through the tunnels.

“When was the last time someone… not Talokanil came here?” You ask. In typical Namora fashion, she remains silent and unresponsive to your question.

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, “back there it just seemed like they hadn’t seen someone new in a while.”

The two of you walk, furthering yourself from the turnoff where Attuma parted ways. Cautiously, you step around the uneven surfaces of the rocky ground. You can feel yourself being led deeper into the maze of caverns. If Namora decided to up and ditch you right now, you are certain you would be lost in this labyrinth forever.

“You are the first,” Namora says rather abruptly, catching you off guard. Not only does her response come well after your question was asked, but it is also the most she has ever said to you at one given time.

“The first?” You ask, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“To come here,” Namora answers. “The first surface dweller to receive Talokan’s aid. The first the king has ever…” she pauses a moment, searching for the right word, “tolerated.”

The influx of her voice is not lost on you.

“And you don’t approve?”

“It is not my place to approve, " Namora clarifies as she leads you around a bend and past several open pools of water. "I am… concerned. When it comes to you, I fear he is blind.”

Silence befalls you both again as you enter another cavern, this one much larger and more spacious than any others you have seen. Within it are several large pools, glistening with light reflected from more glow worms above. Their tendrils hang from the high vaulted ceiling like sparkling chandeliers.

In the center of it all stands a large hut enclosed by beautifully woven fabrics. You follow Namora shoulder to shoulder up the stone-carved steps to it until you nearly reach the side.

“We’re here,” Namora says, coming to a dead stop. She then takes a step back from you.

Still unsure of where “here” is exactly, you glance over your shoulder, looking to her for further instruction or explanation. But Namora gives you nothing. The moment you begin to take a step backward as well, her hand shoots out, holding the back of your shoulder in position with a firm grip.

Ah. Don't move. Got it.

Subconsciously you begin to hold your breath, bracing yourself for the unknown.

Then, there he is.

From around the corner of the hut comes Namor. Immediately you are taken aback by his appearance. Up to this point, you have only seen him suited for battle. Now he stands before you dawning a beautifully woven cape plated with gold and draped across his broad shoulders. His hair is slicked back and his arms are adorned with various metal cuffs. Truly a wardrobe fit for a king.

A single nod of his head and Namora is dismissed. You hear her small footsteps fade as she leaves the two of you alone.

“How is your hand?”

Namor’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you raise your hand, glancing at the worn bandage. "It’s fine, thank you.”

Staring at the gauze, you can almost hear the lullaby Namor hummed as he gently tended to your wounded palm the night of the battle. Something flutters inside you as you touch the corner of the fabric. Realizing your mind has drifted again, you bring yourself back to reality by following up with your own question.

"Are we in..." you stop to rephrase, shifting your weight from side to side as you look around the cavern, “Is this… Talokan?"

If it is, it's very different from what you pictured.

Your question brings a smile to Namor’s face.

"No," he answers with a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "Talokan is far beyond this place. I assure you, your body would not survive the journey to its depths. But these caverns are safe, I promise you.”

Namor then shifts the topic of conversation.

“I am told some of your belongings were ruined on your traveling here, including your book. I apologize. I had hoped to make up for it.”

With one arm, Namor ushers you around the corner to the entrance of his quarters, inviting you inside.

Intrigued and eager to see what awaits, you accept his invitation. As you enter, you find yourself in a study of sorts. Lit by several lanterns, the room is warm and bright. Within it sits a small table, a prominent desk full of scrolls and artifacts, and a cozy hammock hung in the corner. But what catches your eye most of all are the walls.

All around you hang gorgeous tapestry walls with breathtaking murals that stretch from floor to ceiling.

“Did you do all of these?” You ask in disbelief as you move to one at the far end of the room. Your eyes widen as you gaze in admiration at the beautiful artistry.

“Yes,” Namor answers humbly, following behind you. “I think you will find a more accurate depiction of my history here.”

“I don’t know,” you say with playful skepticism in your voice as you inspect the artwork closer, “always be weary of your authors, right?” You smirk as you shift your glance sideways to Namor, echoing his words back to him in jest. His face is serious at first but quickly turns to amusement.

“You remembered,” he says nodding his head, an impressed grin now stretching at the corners of his mouth, “that is good.”

You return your attention to the paintings. What a gift it is to be standing here in front of them. Full of stories, full of history. And to be accompanied by the man who created them himself — who lived them himself. It is all a far cry from the vague glyphs you tried so hard to decipher in your book.

"They're amazing." You say in awe, following along the panels as you trace the line work delicately with your fingertip.

Immersed in the murals, you are too busy to notice Namor's softening gaze as he watches you study his work so intently. Here you are, an outsider who he has welcomed into his space. It is not like him to be so open, especially not with a stranger from the surface — never someone from the surface — yet, something about you causes a stirring inside of him. Perhaps it is your enthusiasm and wonders for his culture or your refreshing dose of humanity towards his people that compels his desire to be close to you.

As you follow the artwork from panel to panel across the walls, you arrive at a scene that suddenly makes you freeze. Your wrist snaps your finger back as if repelled by the paint itself. In front of you is a large image of Namor dawning a serpent headpiece as he hovers above the water. You are immediately back in your nightmare, your mind flashing to Namor’s outstretched hand then the darkness that closes in around you as you start to drown. You can almost feel the fire in your lungs as they grow desperate for air.

“What troubles you?” Namor asks with genuine traces of concern in his voice. Your sudden silence has not gone unnoticed. He moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, looking up to analyze the same part of the mural.

"Nothing," you lie, shaking your head while your hand drops to your side. You withdraw from the painting, taking a few steps back from it and Namor.

“Your people," you say to change the subject, pointing your thumb to the rest of the artwork in the room, "they honor you. It's admirable, what you've done for them. To keep them safe all this time."

“But?” He senses there is more on your mind.

You stare at him, then turn your focus back to the tapestries surrounding you. Scanning them from wall to wall, you notice a pattern in the stories shown.

“It’s just,” you begin with uncertainty in your voice “for someone who has spent his whole life bringing peace to his people, I wonder how much of it you have experienced for yourself?”

Namor is quiet for a moment.

"And why do you wonder this?" He finally replies, turning to face you fully.

“I guess I look at these and I’m curious… how? How can you do that without completely breaking under the weight of it all? Even with—” you begin gesturing to his body and suddenly become desperate to come up with the right words in time, “superhuman strength.” Thank god.

“Hmmm,” Namor exhales, thoughtfully nodding as his gaze drops to the floor. He folds his arms over his chest, the golden band around his exposed bicep reflecting the light that softly glows from a nearby lantern. Taking a few steps toward you, he lifts his eyes to yours.

“It is true,” he says, “the burden I carry for the sake of my people does not always permit me the personal luxury of peace. It… can be difficult.” His tone shifts from diplomatic to vulnerable. “And who is to say I have not broken under it? It is that brokenness that has made me the leader I am.”

Turning his head toward the mural, he looks at it carefully before speaking again. His chiseled jawline accentuates the exposed veins protruding from his neck.

"To your question,” he continues, “I believe how is never as important as why. Why would someone fight to bring others peace when they themselves cannot have it?” Namor takes another step closer and lifts his hand to your chin, delicately angling your face upward toward his own. "Because we sacrifice to protect what we love.”

His eyes search yours earnestly. After a moment, Namor quickly drops his hand from your chin and you watch as he moves towards his desk, shuffling a few scrolls around before looking back up at you again.  

“I love my people,” he says, planting his hand firmly on the desk, “and I have seen evil, what it is capable of. I watch as the rest of the world grows desperate in their greed and ambition, their desire for power. They are becoming more dangerous by the day."

"You mean — surface dwellers?" You ask.

Namor raises his brow at you knowingly.

"Yes,” he answers cooly.

"I'm a surface dweller. Am I...dangerous?"

Namor sighs with a small smile.

“Yes. Though not in the way you may think.”

He moves from out behind his desk and back over in your direction.

“Now I have a question for you,” he says in a low voice, approaching you with a dark look looming over his face. “Please consider your answer carefully.”

The silence is intense. Your heart feels like it is going to jump out of your throat as you anticipate what damning question the king of Talokan has in store for you.

Namor’s expression changes on a dime, and he suddenly asks in a lighthearted tone,

“Are you up for a swim?”

—

You follow Namor out of his quarters and into the large open cavern. As you pass by several beautiful pools of water, you are enchanted by how the light dances across the rich tones of Namor's skin. The same light casts dazzling hues of aquamarine and cerulean across the surface of the pools, reflected onto the rocks surrounding them.

Namor approaches one of the bigger pools and removes the cape from his shoulder, exposing his bare chest underneath. Here is the Namor you recognize - prominent necklace, bare chest,  emerald green shorts. Before dropping his cape to the ground, however, he pulls out a Talokan mask from the fabric like the ones Namora and the other warriors wear.

“Take a deep breath,” Namor says as he turns to you. He pushes your hair back from your cheek delicately as he applies the apparatus to your face. Doing as you are told, you inhale deeply as the mask fastens over your nose and mouth.

“Stay close,” he instructs. You nod, and Namor steps to the edge of the closest pool. He looks back at you with a hint of a smile on his face. Then, with all the strength and grace of a god, he dives perfectly into the water and disappears under the surface.

You step closer to the pool. The faint rhythm of droplets falling from the ceiling rings throughout the cavern. You glance behind you toward the entrance, but there isn't a soul in sight. Namora’s words echo through your mind.

When it comes to you, he is blind.

You dive in, following Namor.

Once in the water, you quickly orient yourself. Looking around, you see the outline of Namor, his silhouette waiting for you in the distance. As you swim closer, he gestures for you to follow him. You kick your feet to propel yourself further downward, ears popping as you equalize to the increasing pressure.

You swim until you are clear of the caves. Though your muscles ache, there is something serene about being beneath the water; the quiet, the weightlessness, everything drifting harmoniously in rhythm with the current. For the first time since you can remember, your mind feels still. Free from the chaos. Somehow, the vast open sea does not frighten you with its deep blue void as it did in your dream. Not even a little. Instead, you feel a calmness in your soul as you lose track of time entirely, trailing Namor as you move through the ocean’s depths.

Quite literally in his element, you watch in awe as Namor swims so effortlessly. To him, it must be as easy as breathing. He looks more relaxed than you have seen him. Perhaps even enjoying himself?

You continue to swim, the water getting lighter as the visibility becomes clearer. A school of fish rushes past, their scales glimmering with each flick of a fin or contour of their bodies. Countless numbers weave around you in sync as if part of the same carefully choreographed ballet. You can’t help but smile as you watch them move so freely, and Namor can't help but smile as he watches you.

Suddenly the fish rapidly disperse and within seconds a huge mass flashes past you with incredible speed and agility. Your eyes widen and adrenaline rushes through you as you witness a killer whale chase the school, its size completely dwarfing your mere human frame. Involuntarily, you begin hyperventilating as you watch the giant creature swim off into the distance. When you feel a touch against your arm, you turn to find Namor next to you. His hand rises and falls in front of his torso, gesturing for you to take deep breaths. In, out. In, out.

The two of you remain suspended in the endless ocean blue as you your breath slows and your muscles recover. Namor looks upward, and as you savor the moment of rest you follow his gaze. You can tell by the light above that you are getting close to the surface, which must mean you are nearing your destination. When he nods, you know it is time to move. Slowly the two of you start your ascent and the ocean becomes warmer as you gradually near the top.

When you arise from the water, the sound of the rushing wind, the rolling waves, and birds flying overhead rush into your ears. Less than a hundred meters from you stretches a beautiful coastline covered in soft white sand and lined by rich green foliage.

You make your way towards it. Soon you are walking knee-deep in the waves, the tide splashing against the back of your legs as you near the shore. Removing the mask from your face, the sweet breeze of the island races by, rustling your wet hair and filling your nostrils with the earthy aroma of some nearby palm trees.

Namor has already reached the sand. He stands tall, water still running down his body. Staring out at the horizon, he runs his hand over his face and pushes his hair back, inadvertently flexing his bicep as he does so. The sun slowly begins its descent toward the Earth, its warm rays casting brilliant tones of red and orange across Namor’s exposed skin. It contrasts the deep blues and greens that illuminated him in the caverns, and at this point, you are confident he looks devastatingly beautiful in any light.

As you reach the shore, you take your place next to him and stare out at the skyline.

“Hard to beat a view like that,” you say breathlessly.

“My mother would always describe to me the beauty of the setting sun,” Namor responds. “I have no love for the surface world, but from time to time I visit this island. See what she saw.”

“Is this—?” You begin to ask.

“Where she is buried.” Namor answers before you finish your question. His eyes drop as he reflects, “I am not sure what I expected to see the day I came to lay her body to rest. I suppose the beauty of an island she spoke of so fondly. Instead, I found my brothers and sisters enslaved by men who took life without a second thought.” His jaw clenches as he recalls the bitter memory. “But I saw to it the favor was returned.”

His meaning is clear. You are not sure which makes you more nervous — the calm and cool way he says it, or the menacing smile that accompanies his statement. Either way, his smile disappears as quickly as it comes. You have seen Namor’s ferocity firsthand and know what he is capable of, especially when it comes to protecting his people. A nervous feeling grows in the pit of your stomach as you begin questioning his purpose in bringing you here.

You consider the facts:

You are a surface dweller.

He did call you dangerous.

Oh shit.

Anxiously you glance at him, then redirect your gaze back to the horizon to maintain your composure. The soft waves break along the shore, racing up to your ankles. As the sand beneath your feet gets pulled out by the tide, you wish with all your might you could be pulled away with it. Instead, you sink deeper into the ground, more immovable than before.

“Are you going to kill me?” The words come out blunter than you intend, but you stand by them despite the quiver in your voice.

The question pulls Namor out of his thoughts as he turns to you, eyebrows raised. He studies your face carefully before answering.

“I probably should," he says. There is no malice in his words, only honesty. “The knowledge you have of me and my people... it puts me in a difficult position.” His eyes are solemn. "But I have lived a long time, and in that time I have witnessed many in their final moments before death when one truly reveals themself. That night on the beach, in what you believed were your final moments, you kept your word to me and my people. You said nothing to those men, even with your life on the line. There is no truer test of loyalty.”

Without a word, he reaches his hand out for the mask you still carry. You cautiously hand it over.

"There is a village eastward,” Namor continues, “you will find everything you need there, and the means to leave this place."

You feel his palm slip under your fingers to receive the mask. He takes a deep breath, then purses his lips in the direction behind you.

“Or, just up the way beyond those trees is a house. It is not much, but comfortable. It is yours to use... if you wish. You would be safe here.”

The offer catches you off guard.

“I… I don't understand." You mutter in slight confusion.

With a deep inhale, Namor squints back at the setting sun to collect his thoughts. Then, taking another step closer, he eliminates virtually any remaining space between you. His eyes are deep and mesmerizing as ever. Your heart races from his sudden proximity and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to speak again. He peers down at you, so impossibly close that you can sense the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

"You are no enemy of mine," he says with authority, "and no prisoner of Talokan. You have my trust. And because of that trust, I will not order you to stay." Namor then drops the mask into the sand like it is worthless and gently slides his hands underneath your jawline, cradling your face in both of his palms. “But I am asking you to.”

You are speechless. The way he is holding your gaze, the tenderness of his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"Stay," Namor says fervently in one final clarifying word. It is not a command, but an invitation. Perhaps even a plea. But most importantly, it is a choice. Your choice.

His eyes quickly dart back up to yours as he awaits an answer, but even Namor is not strong enough to keep his attention from dropping back down to your lips. He is clearly focused on more than just the words he hopes to hear come out of them.

In an overwhelming wave of boldness, you allow instinct to take over. No lives at stake, no siren’s song  — it is only the burning desire within your very soul for him that compels you. You close your eyes and melt into Namor’s touch, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you do so, it is as if a surge of energy courses through your veins, electrifying your entire body. Namor immediately welcomes your advance, molding his lips to your own. The smooth piece of jade that pierces his septum presses cooly above your lip, contrasting the heat of his skin to ignite your senses. As he slides a hand around to the back of your neck, his fingers curl into your hair to bring you in even closer.

A small moan escapes you as the tip of his tongue traces along your bottom lip. You can feel his smile against your mouth, then a tug at the same lip with his teeth. Another invitation, to which you gladly accept. You part your mouth open to let Namor inside. Both of your tongues dance together as your kisses become deeper and more indulgent.

Consumed by his taste and his touch, you slide your hands up his bare chest, desperate for more of him. Without missing a beat, Namor responds by running his arms down your body and hoisting you up off the sand with ease. You wrap your legs around him tightly and take full advantage of this new, higher angle. Moving your mouth in tandem with his, you savor the richness of his lips and entangling your fingers in his dark locks of hair. 

The two of you ebb and flow just like the rolling ocean waves, losing yourselves in each other. It’s not until you feel a faint burning in your lungs that you face the harsh reality of having to break away for air. Everything inside you fights it. If Namor were the sea, you would gladly let yourself drown in this moment.

But Namor, also sensing your need for oxygen, begins to slow down. He lowers you gently to the ground, though he is careful not to let you slip too far away from him. The two of you breathe heavily as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. Namor gives you another passionate kiss, this one slow and deep. His lips then move to the corner of your mouth and trail up to your ear, the heat of his breath spreading like wildfire across your skin. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Holding you close, Namor leans his forehead against your temple and presses his lips against your ear.

“Please," he whispers. "Stay with me.”

--------

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