#Kukulkan fanfiction

[funnyexel]

delusional water king

“They’ll see you as my goddess.” Shaking your head, you back away from the man. 

“I’m not a goddess. I’m an experiment.” You show him the number on your lower back, accompanied by scars along the skin you displayed to him. Staring at your figure, he noticed the scars were pink in your dark skin, most likely scabbed up and picked away by the strong currents. Shoving your shirt down, you cross your arms over your stomach, looking down and away from him. 

“I am grateful that you saved me, I am but...I don’t want to destroy the beautiful city you helped build.” His eyes bore into you, even as you’re not looking, the chance of intimidation being too great. 

“I can’t control it, Namor.” The way his name moved off your tongue and into the air made him tispy, it echoed in the cave, bouncing off the walls. 

“You saw what I did. I killed so many people.” Glossy eyes stared up at the feathered serpent god. He squinted at you with a smirk playing at his lips, was he finally seeing the real, troubled you? Turning to the hole in the ground that leads to the endless body of water, you fully intend on leaving. 

“I’m sorry, if this is disrespectful to you. Please understand that everywhere I go destruction tends to follow.” 

“Go ahead.” He responds after listening to you, biting your lip and moving a hair from your face, you sigh. 

“I will disregard the disrespect. Only because it is coming from you, in reina.” Giving him a shy smile, you nod not quite understanding the last bits of what he said.

Standing off the edge where rock meets water, you step onto the liquid, turning to him and giving him a small wave. Submerging into the water, a small bubble tracing around your body that keeps air flowing while the water propels you through the small tunnels and out of Talokan. The feeling of guilt tugs at you for leaving your savior but the guilt of killing hundreds of people where you were held captive ate you alive. Reaching the surface, the bubble of air slowly deteriorates as you walk up to the sandy shore. Moments to dawn, you catch your breath as you walk away from the beach, taking one hesitant look back before disappearing into the dense forest. You needed time. Time to figure out your powers, time to find yourself and forgive yourself. It didn’t take long for you to forgive yourself for the unfortunate events at the hell hole, in the matter of days you thought and realized that losing your temper had to have been the best case scenario. 

You spent time in an abondoned hut alongside the oceanside. It was peaceful, the waves were a natural lullaby and helped with the unease of sleeping. Being self-efficent gave you the chance to fool around with your powers, learn what you can do without causing a catastrophe. Sitting elevated above the waves, you meditated and wondered if he would try to find you. 

“In reina.” You whispered opening your eyes, looking across the blue mirrors that connected with each wave, you could’ve sworn you heard someone say it before you.

Refraining from saying ‘hello’ or any of the sort. You’d rather not know if someone is here with you. Moving closer to the edge of the small cliff, you sway your hand in a circular motion, the waters pushing itself into a dance. Watching closely as the water formed a small cone shaped tornado that sunk to the bottom of the shallow floor. In this it showed, the particles of sand and small plants being swept into the current. Putting your hand in your lap, the mini tornado, slowed to a stop and transitioned back to the usual current of the ocean. Looking around your surroundings once more, you get up, dusting yourself off and go back to your hut.

If you could say something different to Namor, what would you say? Ask him what ‘in reina’ means or what he meant by ‘my goddess’. You were so shocked by what you’ve done prior that it didn’t register how handsome the man was, his tan skin, fit physique, raven hair and darkness that hides in his brown irises. A clear portrait of the man was painted onto the walls of your mind, and you were repeatedly looking at the painting, thinking of him after days of being alone. Laying down, you get comfortable on the floor bound cot, closing your eyes, your body relaxes on the soft surface.

“Y/n, in reina.” The voice deep, meaningful and close. Opening your eyes, your rest felt like it only lasted a split second. Looking around, you were surrounded by turquoise looming lights. The scenery definitely unfamiliar. Standing to your feet,

“Nib óolal, waal mía,” you turn to the sound of feet shuffling behind you and catch a glimpse of a blue skinned person leaving. Dark messy hair enters your view as you shake your head. Convinced that you’re hallucinating about this man, this dangerously attractive and hot man.

“What are you doing here?” You say in complete disbelief. A slight furrow in his brows as he gives you a small smile and honestly you could’ve dropped your panties for him right there. Wait what?

“I have changed my mind.” He reaches behind his neck, taking off one of his necklaces.

“Changed your mind?” You relay back to him in confusion, at this he smiles and nods.

“Can’t someone have a change of mind?” Your mind is fogged with confusion and its clearly displayed on your face.

“Yes, but I’m not following. I don’t understand what you're saying.” The small sounds his jewelry made as he rests them down on the nearest surface, echoes in the little pauses of silence.

“Am I not speaking english?” He asks as if you literally couldn’t understand. You realize he’s joking and chuckle.

“You are. I mean- ….What did you change your mind on?” You lose your train of thought mid sentence, his muscles suddenly having more definition now that its no longer covered by the many necklaces he wore.

His masculine stature compliments his collar bone and defined jaw thats hidden under a well kept beard. You need to get a hold of yourself, zoning out while observing his body and objectifying him when given the slightest chance. What would he do if he found out? Something bad you hope. Blinking yourself out the trance, bare chest is in your eyeshot. Looking up through your eyelashes, he’s already looking down.

“You.” Watching as his palm rests along your cheek, steadily tracing down your jaw and stopping by your chin.

All the while your breathing hitches, his thumb rubs along your lower lip. Most alarms are ringing in your head for you to stop but whats a simple kiss? Your hand slides up his waist, toned stomach and rests on his shoulder. His gaze shifting for a moment to your hand and back to you, by then you were already pushing yourself up. His lips pull you into a hypnosis of only wanting him, only wanting to kiss him, wanting to climb in his skin. His lips stray from yours to your cheek and neck in a rushed manner. His arm capturing you in an embrace to keep you from stumbling backward.

Your chest heaves excessively as you realize what you’re going to do. Failing to release you from his embrace, he guides you to a soft patch of the cave. It was odd, grassy and soft as he laid you down. The space made you wonder about the deep sea of unknown even more, if there’s possibility of healthy gardens thriving underwater, what other possibilities are there? Your hands glide over the greenery, feeling the cushiony plants and enjoying the pleasant sound it made as your hands moved through. All your senses were being satisfied, especially your eyes. The sight of him kneeling in front of you can make any women weak. He observes you and your fascination with the scene. His hands compliment your skin, when they stroke your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin. Despite your body growing hotter and hotter with each passing moment. Leaning down, he kisses up to your core. Kisses alternating from right thigh to left thigh, your hips accidentally jerk once he’s two kisses away. His gaze shifts to you once more and he smiles. His dimples peaking through.

Your excitement is getting the best of you as he pulls your pants off, his finger tips gracing your lower stomach. Lowering his head to your core, you close your eyes and he kisses you. One long slow swipe of his tongue from your hole to your clit. His tongue teasingly licking at your clit, small and kitten like. You hum a moan, your hand hovering over your lips in upmost disbelief. Sucking on your folds like a starved man, he hooks his arms under your thighs and his hands grip at your thighs. Sweat beads down your forehead, mixing with a tear of pleasure. Finally opening your eyes, he is totally indulged in your pussy. Your shiny wetness on his cheeks, his head moving from side to side to make sure nothing is left untended to. A broken gasp leaves your chest when he nips at your clit sharply. Fanning yourself, you take in deep breaths at the realization that your body is overheating. You attempt to plead his name but his tongue slips in your hole at the right moment and touches your g-spot. Making you shriek.

“namor…” You mutter, breathing heavily. Your pussy squeezing his tongue and legs clenching on his head, demanding more. Shaking your head, your moans leave your throat in a struggle.

Cumming all over his cheeks and chin, he laps up the mess and unhooks his hands from your thighs. Your eyes follow his stature as he sits up. Your chest heaving up and down, he holds you in a compelling trance.

“What are you doing,” His voice dips in a jagged tone, warning you and stopping you in your tracks. You were scooting away from him.

“take me home, please.” You trembled as he shifted close.

You cross your ankles and shield yourself from him, “we can’t, namor please, listen to me.” He shakes his head, his playful manner gone.

“I hear you, but I won’t listen.” His hands uncross your ankles, opening your legs to him once more, “I’ll fuck you until you beg to stay with me.” You gasp, his hard-on rubbing against you as he raps your legs around his waist.

The waistband of his shorts gone and your eyes dart everywhere. This is what you want, it is, but this is one of those journeys that you can’t turn back from once you’ve begun.

“Look.” He commands your body with a word, this brings a soft smile to his lips.

“I deserve you. I knew I did when I first saw you,” he moans softly when he uses his fingers to part your soaked lips.

“I waited this long, can’t you give me something I deserve, hm?” His attention was on you, his tip moving between your lips and squishing around your come. You moan as nod to the man, cursing yourself at your wordless affirmations.

a/n: don't mind the title I'm just having fun at this point...and here's the translations cause I know some of y'all lazy asf

in reina - my queen

Nib óolal, waal mía - thank you, my child

more of my writing

[multific]

The Same Mistake

K'uk'ulkan x Reader

A/N: Alternate version of Second Chance. 

You were once a Queen, now you were a traitor. 

The people who used to respect and love you, turned against you and chased you out of the water.

Along with the love of your life, K'uk'ulkan or you should probably call him, Namor.

The man who once loved you more than anything. The man who promised you everything.

Turned against you all because you refused to fight. 

He was ready for a war against Wakanda and the entire world. He wanted to burn it all down. He wanted you by his side. 

But you refused.

And so, you were chased away.

Thankfully, the Wakandans were extremely kind people, Shuri offered you a home near the river. Even if you told her you couldn't return to the water.

Namor said he would personally come to kill you if you do.

And so, you and your baby had to learn to live above water.

Your baby, as you often ran your hand down your belly, was the very reason you refused to participate in the fights.

Your baby was the reason you didn't wish to burn the world along with Namor. 

You refused to give birth to your child and bring them to a world of misery and pain.

If because of that, you were said to be a traitor, so be it.

When you refused to fight, your child was only a suspicion of yours, you weren't sure if you were really pregnant or not.

Wakanda was even kind enough to guide you to a lake. A lake not connected to any other water, in there you gave birth to your daughter.

Your beautiful daughter who looked just like your husband.

She became your everything. It broke your heart that she might never see Talokan.

But you will try your best to show her that not all people on the surface are bad.

Once she was of age, you often brought her with you to the market. Almost everyone knew the little Princess by now. Kindly named after her grandmother, Fen was a true ray of sunshine.

She was only two months old, but she was already laughing and giggling at everyone.

But she did look a lot like her father.

Her ears pointy as his, but she didn't have any wings on her ankles. She had your smile and nose, but his eyes. She was a spitting image of her father.

Which really gave you a big challenge.

You tried to hate Namor. Tried to resent him for sending you away and for tearing himself away from a child he didn't even know existed.

But you had to be strong for Fen and for yourself.

Shuri often invited you over to the palace. Just casually talking as she showed you her newest projects.

Much like today. 

Nakia took your baby from you so you could have a couple quiet moments.

You laughed along with Shuri when the door busted open. Okoye followed in two Talokan soldiers.

"As I said, she is busy!" Okoye yelled at the three men. 

"Princess. We wish to speak." said Namor.

You were frozen in your seat. The entire room went quiet as you refused to look at him.

"I'll take my leave." you quickly said before turning to run out and find Nakia and your daughter.

Even just being near him was extremely difficult.

You soon found your daughter as you took her into your arms and ran out of the palace. But of course, it wasn't that easy, because just as you were about to leave, Namor was standing in the doorway, still talking to Shuri but everyone noticed you.

You slightly tightened your grip around your daughter as you tried to work your way around the two soldiers. 

But of course, it was more difficult than it needed to be.

Your daughter was getting fussy as the man in front of you still didn't move.

"Let me leave." you begged in your native language, but the soldier didn't move.

"You are holding a true treasure," said Namor behind you. Thankfully, you were hiding her from the people around you, covering her ears.

"I'm only a traitor, let me leave." you asked once more but no one moved. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Namor approaching you from behind as she took a step closer to you, trying to see your baby.

You suddenly turned and looked into his eyes.

The same eyes your daughter had.

"Let me leave." you said once more before Namor nodded and the soldier moved, you rushed out.

"She married someone?" asked Namor from Shuri who refused to answer instead she turned and walked back to her lab.

But the thought didn't leave Namor.

You were the love of his life, yet you found someone else so quickly. He felt betrayed on a whole new level. 

And in his anger, which blinded him greatly, he went to your home. Ready to kill the man who dared to take you from him.

He swam up the river and easily found you, he could hear you sing softly as he approached the window. He was flying as he looked inside, hiding in the dark night, he watched you, your child on your shoulder, sleeping as you bounced her.

Then as you turned Namor saw her ears. The little ears which looked exactly like his.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

You put Fen to bed before returning to the living room, ready to clean up when you nearly jumped out of your skin as you noticed Namor standing by the opened balcony door.

"I never entered your waters! You have to leave!" you said but he didn't move.

You noticed how his eyes changed. His expression was completely different from the previous one. No more anger can be seen. 

"Why didn't you tell me I have a daughter?" you were taken aback. Did he see her before? Or did he come here for revenge and saw? 

Probably the latter, knowing him.

"You told me if I enter the water again, you would personally come to kill me. And you wouldn't hesitate."

"I thought you knew, I would never hurt you. I felt betrayed."

"How do you think I felt? One disagreement with you, and you sent me away. Declared me a traitor. I wasn't sure that I was pregnant. I didn't know back then. But I refused to give birth to a child into a burning world." he stayed quiet. "Please don't take her from me." you whispered, trying not to break down as you finally let fear enter you. 

He was powerful, more powerful than you, a God.

He could do anything he wanted.

Your statement seems to strike him.

"I could never. I thought you found someone else, and got over our centuries-old love so easily, I'm happy I was wrong. I thought... we tried so much... I thought we couldn't have children."

"I wasn't expecting it either. But when I showed signs... you were talking about a fight and war." when you sensed to anger in him, you also calmed. "Do you want to see her?" it didn't take him long to say yes.

You guided him to her room, in there she slept in her little crib.

"She is just like you, but she can go far longer than you without water."

"What's her name?"

"She was named after a very strong and kind woman. Her name is Fen." you watched as he reached out, running a finger down her face.

"After my mother... she is beautiful." 

"She is a very happy baby. Always smiling and giggling at people."

There was a couple minutes of silence when he just kept staring at her. 

"You need to return to Talokan. She needs to be with her people."

"No." he suddenly turned to look at you. "You sent me away, you said you don't want me anymore, that you don't love me anymore. I can't put her through the same."

"It was anger and fear talking not me. I never stopped loving you." 

"You say that now, but what happens when we have another disagreement?"

"Do you still love me?" he suddenly asked.

"I do. But I need to think of her as well. If you throw us out or me out... I wouldn't survive that." he moved to stand in front of you.

"I swear to you, on my own life on our people's lives on the secrecy of Talokan that this will never happen again. Ever." he could tell you were still unsure.

"I will stay here with her, you could come and visit. I want you to prove it to me, to us, you will need to gain my trust again." he nodded, understanding your decision. 

"I will come every day when I can." you nodded this time.

He spent a couple more minutes looking at her before he left.

You were so nervous, you decided to sleep with her in your bathtub. 

The fear of him taking her from you was too big.

---

As he promised, he arrived the next day, although you weren't in your home. He decided to wait.

He soon saw you return with your daughter in one hand, the other holding a bag of food. 

Fen was currently too occupied with your necklace to see the man.

"Let me get that for you." he said as he took the bag from your hand, his eyes never leaving his daughter. "She looks like you." he said as he followed you into the home.

"I think she looks more like you." You whispered as you began to prepare some lunch. 

"I can hold her if you want, so you can move around." he saw your grip tighten around Fen. "You think I would take her from you? You think of me as a monster who would separate a mother from their child?"

"You separated me from my home, my people and from my husband." your reply cut deep with him. But he couldn't deny the truth. "But you also know that I wouldn't stop at anything if you do take her from me."

"I won't take her from you. And I do know what you are capable of, yes." with that, you slowly lifted her off of your hip, she made a noise of confusion before she looked at the stranger to who she was handed to.

"Hello, My Little One. I'm your father, I'm sorry I wasn't here before." Fen was quiet, was too quiet, it was completely uncharacteristic of her. It did worry you but soon her attention drifted to Namor's necklaces. "She is much like you. You also adore my jewels," he smirked as he looked at you but you were too busy preparing lunch.

He knew that with these small steps, he will be able to get you back. And he will make sure to never make the same mistake again. 

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ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[sunshinescribes]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This - 4

Part 4 of Continuum (FINALE)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Namor x Black Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT

Warnings: Blowjob, Makeup Sex, Breeding Kink (if ya squint), Fluff

There is a saying your elders often whispered to the curious and naive youth in your village: Love is a despot who spares no one.

The same words had been spoken to you when you were just a child on the cusp of adolescence, with curious, lingering eyes as you beheld the boys in your village who had once been tiny and awkward, now tall and thickset, with unrecognizably deep voices.

You hadn’t understood what it meant back then, but you certainly understood it now, as the sea separated you from the one person you desired most.

You had believed that your heartache would mend and that your decision—the right decision—to put the needs of your country over your own desires would bring you relief. You hadn’t expected it to be immediate, but you had expected it—that same ease and warmth that you had felt when you confessed your love for Namor to your king.

Anguish was your only companion, and try as you might, you could not be free of it.

When you lay in bed at night, your mind would wander back to nights spent with Namor, breathless and drunk on the feel of him—his tongue, his fingers, so attuned to your pleasure in a way you had not known before him. He would whisper filth and encouragements in your ear—against your warm skin—as he brought you to the height of your ecstasy.

The memories made the ache in your chest metastasize, making your bed feel cold and empty. You could lie to yourself and say you only missed the mind-shattering sex, but it was more than that. You missed the moments after, the comfortable silence as he held you close—your inquiries about the parts of Talokan you hadn’t seen. The things he missed most when he was away—and in turn, he would ask similar questions, holding onto every word you spoke until time slipped away from you both and the morning sun peaked over the horizon.

You could not stand to reminisce, contemplating what you had lost. You had taken to sleeping on your couch—a simple remedy—but then came the dreams dripping in honey.

You, decorated in jade and sheer fabric that pooled at your feet. Your hand absentmindedly stroked your stomach as you stared at the ornately dressed god-king before you. His fingers moved expertly with a brush as he added a quick stroke of blue paint to another one of his murals. You hissed as you felt the lightning-quick twist in your stomach—a familiar feeling these past couple of months. Namor turned, quickly setting his brush aside before coming to your side. His voice was low and comforting as he placed a warm hand over your stomach.

"You should be resting," he whispered, concern swimming in those dark eyes of his as they flitted over your features, searching for a hint of any lingering discomfort. Finding none, he rested his pointed ear against your abdomen.

You smiled at him, threading your fingers through his dark tresses. He hummed appreciatively, his eyes fluttering closed as you continued.

"I am fine," you insisted, before turning your gaze to the mural Namor had been working on. "Besides, how can I rest when you finally allow me to watch you paint?"

"I have not denied you the pleasure."

"No," you sighed, "but you always work on them when I’m asleep."

Namor turned his head, his dark eyes opening to gaze up at you. They were impossibly soft, as if to him you held the moon, and how uncharacteristic it was of the man you had once known—the arrogant god-king you had despised a year ago.

"Rest, and I will continue when you wake." He placed a kiss on your clothed stomach before whispering a string of words in his native tongue that your ears could not pick up. "You need your strength, my love, as does our child."

You woke from your dream with a start, blinking away tears as you slowly took in the darkness of your home. The dream had seemed so real that you could feel the lingering warmth of Namor’s hand—the scent of salt and agave.

Your heart wept for that dream—for the future you would now never have—and you prayed to Bast as sunlight filtered through your window.

I did the right thing. Let my heart heal. Do not allow me to suffer.

If Bast had heard your plea, she failed to take pity on you.

The days came and went, and you were plagued with honeyed fantasies that left you wanting. No, your heartache had not subsided; it festered and spread into every part of you, deep to the marrow.

If Namor haunted your dreams, then you would evade sleep as best you could. Late nights and caffeine became your new norm, and how bleary you grew running on a couple hours of sleep—how juvenile and nonsensical your mistakes tended to be when you worked on reports for your king, or how heavy your eyes would feel during council meetings— You were ashamed to know that on occasion you fell asleep with your cheek resting against your palm, and after a moment of sweet silence, you would abruptly be awoken by your shifting elbow or the soft tap on your shoulder—usually T’Kawe, but sometimes your king.

Such was the occurrence today.

You whispered your apologies, but you could see the unease in M’Baku’s face as his dark eyes inspected you.

If you looked half as tired as you felt, you could only imagine what a sight you must have been.

The meeting concluded soon after with little issue. As tribe leaders lifted from their seats and filtered out of the throne room, M’Baku took to your side with deftness that surprised you.

"Are you unwell?" M’Baku questioned, his eyes sweeping over your face one more time as if to confirm his suspicions.

"No." A lie, but you were certain your king’s concern did not extend to the matters of the heart.

"You have been tired lately. Unequipped…" M’Baku lifted his fingers to thread through his peppered beard. His eyes fell to the ground as he contemplated. "Take a few days to yourself."

You opened your mouth to protest, but M’Baku held up his hand before the words could escape your lips.

"We will not debate this. I need you well, and clearly you are not."

You bit the inside of your cheek, frustration and grief eating away at you. If only your king knew that being alone with your thoughts was the last thing you needed—that the respite he wished for you would not bring the relief he expected.

Instead of returning home as M’Baku had encouraged, you made your way through the busy markets of Birnin Zana. You slipped past colorful stalls and smiled at familiar merchants that flashed their wares enticingly—necklaces made of bone and brass, golden cuffs that glinted and gleamed, intricate beaded chokers. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was a jeweler in Wakanda who worked with jade. 

Shaking the thought away, you made your way towards the heavenly scent of sizzling meat and cinnamon. Braised lamb stew was a favorite of yours; the fatty meat was always so moist and tender. The rich broth was like a balm to your tortured soul, taking you back to your younger days in your village, free of worry, full of love, and strong enough to choke.

You spent your first day of rest like this, holding on to the familiarity of your homeland while also feeling as if you were wading through water, lost.

The second day wasn’t nearly as eventful as the first. You called T’Kawe through your kimoyo beads, hoping he wasn’t aware of your mandated rest. Your hope shattered when he didn’t pick up, and you didn’t even waste time trying to get in contact with Agent Ross. If T’Kawe hadn’t gotten to him first about your current situation, M’Baku certainly had.

The rest of your day was a blur. You wandered through your home with the simple task of keeping yourself as busy as you possibly could. You cleaned and rearranged your furniture until your living room became unrecognizable, and you contemplated painting your bedroom walls.

Sleep had come to you easily that night, but your dreams were still haunted by beautiful fantasies.

The third day, you sat on your couch, legs tucked close to your body, as you tried to drown out your thoughts and the world around you as you flipped through several Wakandan stations on your television. You had thought about returning to the markets, but the sudden onslaught of heavy raindrops and strong wind deterred you.

You would return to the palace tomorrow, whether M’Baku liked it or not, his good intentions be damned. If he wanted to know what ailed you, then you would tell him plainly. Your heart was broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces that you couldn’t possibly hope to put back together. Where would you even start?

You were homesick, but for a person instead of a place. There was no remedy for that.

A sudden knock ripped you from your reverie. You glanced at your door curiously before lifting from your couch. It couldn’t be M’Baku, far too busy with his duties to venture this far from the Golden City, and he wouldn’t need to. You were always a call away. T’Kawe seemed optimal, but you hadn’t heard from him since the day M’Baku declared your repose.

It could be your friends, but the weather was less than ideal for excursions, and they had lives as busy as yours—perhaps even more so.

You pulled your door open, still wondering who stood on the other side.

You froze the second your eyes caught a glimpse of brown skin and umber eyes. You blinked, stunned, as you took in the image of Namor standing before you, raindrops catching in his thick lashes, trickling down the curve of his jaw, and trailing a path down the expanse of his exposed chest.

"Why?" Your voice shook, your eyes already burning with tears as you pushed past Namor, your attention now turned towards the gray sky. "Why are you torturing me?"

The Xhosa you spoke was quick—desperate even—as you squinted skyward, glaring at dark clouds as if your rage would compel Bast to finally look upon you.

"Is this my punishment? To be haunted in dreams and while awake?"

Your only answer was the howling wind. It was so loud, you nearly missed the call of your name.

You turned, the rain long forgotten, as you glanced at Namor. His dark brows were drawn close, and you could see the concern swimming in his eyes. It took you back to that fateful day on the balcony of the royal palace, where he had opened his heart to you and asked you to share it with him.

"You aren’t here," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

You had seen your own pain reflected in his eyes the night you chose your duty over your heart. You knew he was a man of his word, and he had been painfully clear when he offered his ultimatum.

I will not return again. Not to you.

You started to walk past this illusion of Namor before you felt calloused fingers catch your wrist. His hold was light enough that you could easily pull away, and yet the warmth of his touch anchored you.

"I am no trick of your gods." His brown eyes held you unwaveringly. "I am here."

You blinked up at him dumbly. The uncertainty you felt must have shown in your expression, because Namor lifted your hand to his mouth. His plush lips brush against the tips of your fingers.

You felt a lump form in your throat as you watched him. Wet strands clung to his forehead, making him look younger, as rain continued to trickle down his handsome face and catch in his lashes and Balbo beard.

Wordlessly, you lead him back to your home, retreating from the growing tempest.

Your mind was racing with questions, and while joy bloomed in your heart at the sight of Namor, anxiety also lingered as you thought of your king.

You leaned against your couch, your fingers absentmindedly running across the velvety fabric as if trying to rid them of the lingering heat of Namor’s lips. Your eyes flitted from him to the couch as you tried to school your emotions as best you could.

"You said you wouldn’t come back."

Namor nodded.   "Yes."

"And yet here you are. Why?" You meant for the question to sound more accusatory than curious, but you couldn’t help it. You needed to know what could possibly compel him to go back on his word.

"Because you linger. In Talokan. In my heart. There is no place I can go where I am free of you."

Namor stepped towards you, and although you knew keeping your distance would make it easier to turn him away, you desperately wanted him close. You wanted the warmth of his lips and powerful hands, the only remedy for your affliction. Even if it was only for a moment, it would be enough.

"Still, I would have endured it. You had made your choice."

You lifted your eyes to meet his gaze. Your breath caught as your heart hammered in your chest.

"What changed your mind?"

"Your king."

You noticed the subtle curl of his lips as your brows furrowed. Your mind raced as you struggled to figure out when. There had been no scheduled diplomatic meetings, and you knew Namor was not one to be summoned abruptly.

"He came to Talokan." You hardly believed the words as they passed your lips.

"He did. I will admit, I was angry." His mouth twisted into a frown as he recounted the events that unfolded. "You were not by my side, and I blamed him for it... but then your king spoke of you. Of how miserable you seemed, and how he felt responsible for it."

You were rendered speechless, imagining M’Baku standing before Namor for your sake. You hadn’t thought you had been so obvious—thought M’Baku had truly believed you were simply sick. You had underestimated his perceptiveness.

What more had your king said? What had both given?

"And?"

"We came to an agreement," he whispered.

Namor lifted his hand to cup your cheek, thumbing your bottom lip as his own pulled into a soft smile that nearly forced the air from your lungs.

"A stronger alliance through the union of Wakanda’s ambassador and Talokan’s king"

Your mind was reeling. Wakanda had no ambassador. There had never truly been a need for one when your homeland was safe and hidden from the outside world, seen as nothing more than a third-world country that few cast their sights on. Wakanda had no ambassador after the truth had been revealed to the world, and your homeland found that there were no allies deserving or needed.

But so much had changed since then—since Namor and his people had come from the depths of the ocean.

"If it is what you want," Namor added with a hint of hope in his voice.

"It seems an unfair trade," you contended.

Political alliances through marriage were common, but you couldn’t think of one such as this. It would surely raise a few 

Namor tsked, his lips pulling into a playful frown as he tipped your face closer to his.

"Anyone who disagrees would have to reason with both me and your king."

"An impossible task," you joked.

Namor laughed. That deep, hearty laugh that made your heart sing You couldn’t help but smile—Bast, it felt so good to smile. You felt like the sun had made its home in your chest, filling you with an all-soothing warmth.

It was only undone by his soft and languid lips, as if to remember the taste of you—the way you both fit so well. Your hand trailed up his neck, digging into the dark, damp curls at the nape of his neck as you pulled Namor closer.

He may have felt inclined to take it slow, his patience a marvel at times to you, but you could hardly think of anything besides showing him how much you had missed him—desperately, to the point of madness.

You slowly sank to your knees, eyes fixed on Namor’s face, as your hands caught on the green shorts that did very little to hide the erection pressing against the fitted fabric.

His eyes seemed to get impossibly dark as he blinked down at you, and his voice was rough as he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Apologizing."

You pulled his shorts down the length of his thick legs, giving him a coy look before turning your attention to his impressive length as it bobbed before you, so painfully needy. You wondered if he had tortured himself with memories of you, begrudgingly fisting himself to lust-filled memories with the belief that he could not replace you or have you again.

Namor hissed as you glided your tongue across the head of his dick, slow, and shy, teasing. You repeated the action a few times before he cursed in his mother tongue.

"This does not feel like an apology."

If you weren’t so drunk on the thought of making him unravel before you, you might have rolled your eyes.

So much for patience.

You took his hard length into your mouth, slowly acclimating as drool dribbled down his shaft. You curled your fingers around the base of his pretty dick, tugging his flesh with enough force to make Namor groan as if in pain. You dipped your head, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to take him deeper and pull back up, a sinful rhythm of too much and not enough.

Namor hissed your name, his eyes fluttering shut and his hips rocking despite himself, chasing the heat and slick of your mouth.

"Just like that..." His eyes opened, finding yours. His lips curled into a gorgeous smile as he watched you take him. "So beautiful."

Bast, you could feel the wetness between your thighs, intoxicated by the sight of Namor before you, breaking apart in a way that only you could command. As necessary to him as the sea.

You took Namor as far as you could in your mouth, nearly gagging as you held him there. You cupped his balls, massaging them softly before you grasped them firmly.

Namor choked on your name, and you could feel his dick throbbing in your mouth, ready to release. You moaned around him, wanting his release almost as much as he did, but your desires were whisked from under you as he pulled you off his hard length.

What the hell?

His breaths were labored, and his eyes were still closed before he regained his composure and opened them.

You leaned forward, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Namor cradled your jaw, holding you in place as he tsked lowly.

"If you do that again, I am going to come in your pretty mouth."

You shot him a questioning look that must have looked borderline murderous from the way his lips twitched.

"I have somewhere else in mind." His eyes dipped to your pelvis. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal smearing your thighs as you pulled them close.

It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such reactions with little more than words and hungry glances.

Your legs trembled as you rose to your feet. You were thankful to Namor as he guided you towards your couch with quick kisses and determined fingers. Your shirt was gone by the time he settled against it; your bra was forgotten as he pulled you on top of him. Your shorts and underwear were discarded just as swiftly and nearly ripped off you as Namor’s possessive fingers traveled across your flesh.

"You said you were apologizing." His hand caressed your ass, kneading your flesh, while his other hand skimmed across your stomach. If he just lowered his fingers a little, he could feel the wetness between your thighs—feel where you needed him most. "I want to see how sorry you really are."

You had almost forgotten how cheeky he was and how deliciously wicked he could be when he wanted to make you come undone.

You let out a shaky breath as you lined his wet dick to your entrance, feeling the pulse of your neglected pussy with each passing second.

A curse fell from your lips as you lowered yourself on Namor’s hard length, feeling the familiar stretch as you continued to sink on his dick until he was buried inside of you.

"Missed you," you whined as you began to roll your hips. "So much. So so much."

You would never get tired of how full you always felt with him concealed inside of you. Loved the way your walls hugged him, keeping him where he belonged.

"Missed you so much... I thought I was going fucking crazy."

You draped your arms over his shoulder as you continued to bounce on his dick, your rhythm growing as desperate as you felt.

Namor groaned, gazing up at you with so much desire in his dark eyes.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"I dreamed about you. About us." Your mind flashed back to the dreams that had left you feeling hollow and broken—now possibilities that made your heart dance. Your god-king at your side, loving and tender in ways unknown to outsiders. You, decorated in jade and nurturing new life "About a child I was carrying."

Namor stilled, blinking up at you. You could see the awe dancing in his umber eyes and the ghost of a smile as he regarded you.

"You dreamed... of a child?"

You nodded, remembering how real the dream had felt—the scent of salt and agave, the glittering gold and jade, the warmth of his hand against your swollen stomach.

You could feel him twitch inside of you, and you nearly cried out as his thick fingers brushed against your clit.

"One day." Namor promised, playing with your sensitive "First, I will make you queen."

His other hand dug into the flesh of your ass as a quick string of Mayan spilled from his lips—promises that couldn’t be translated in your dazed mind as Namor lifted his hips, thrusting up into your wet hole with sudden urgency. You tried to meet his powerful thrust, but his pace quickened with each stroke.

"It will be like this. Every day until you are with child."

You rested your forehead against his, mouth agape, as he continued to fuck up into your slick heat. The sound of your flesh meeting, the wetness of your hungry pussy and his dick as it drowned in your juices, was enough to send you over the edge. His words only brought you closer—every filthy promise and sweet encouragement.

"You will be dripping." He hissed, rubbing your nub desperately as your walls clenched him harder—close, so devastatingly close.

"K-K’uk’ulkan…"

"Show me how you will take it. Show me, my queen."

Namor pinched your clit and you were gone, surging over the edge as your pleasure cascaded through you. Your legs shook, your breath caught, and you could have sworn you saw fucking stars as you cried out his name. Namor continued to fuck you through it, incapable of taking his eyes off you as your pretty pussy clenched around his throbbing dick, demanding his release.

He gave one final thrust, burying himself to the hilt as he came with curses spilling from his lips. You held him close as he shuddered through his release, gasping for air as if it had been ripped from his lungs.

Your fingers threaded through the dark tresses of his hair, pushing back the strands that stuck to his forehead as he came down from his high.

He sighed contentedly before leaning back to stare up at you.

"Your king will be expecting us soon."

You hummed, capturing his lips before rolling your lips lazily.

Namor cursed against your lips, and you couldn’t help the laugh that tore from your throat. Your lips tugged into a sensuous smirk as you blinked down at your god-king with mock innocence.

"I’m not done showing you how sorry I am."

A/N: WHEW, this was a long chapter but aye, it’s done! Holy shit, it feels good to finish a series (a first for me)! Thank you all for your comments and words of encouragement. They meant a lot and gave me the push I needed to complete this series! I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

TAGLIST: @artaxerxesthegreat @tb-bunnii @daddyslittlevillain

[lunathebee]

Pairing: Namor x mermaid princess!reader

Warning: none

A/n: I finally finish this! Thank you for sending in a rq @shadowynutsuit, and no hate to the Namor fandom, but are you guys okay? This is the fourth fic I've written that has dialogue #9

Dialogue prompts:

5. "You will be safe here, with me...I'm devoting my heart to you".

9. "Open your eyes, my love, my moon. I'm begging you...please. The war is over; we won... but without you, it doesn't matter to me anymore."

"You're sad again" Namor said when he saw Y/n's face, his hand cupping her soft cheeks, slowly turning her face so that their eyes met. "Have you been crying?" The phrase that left his lips almost sounded like a whisper.

Although Namor is glad Y/n has trusted him more, it hurts him to see that when she comes to him, it's when she's seeking comfort. The world has always been so cruel to the princess; it's not fair at all.

"I just...I hate it here! Not having beauty is like the death sentence for a mermaid. Do you understand Namor? DO YOU?!" Y/n screams at the man in front of her; she doesn't care anymore; he will leave her sooner or later. That's what people do to her; they come and go, and some never come back.

The question was always "when will they leave" and never "how long will they stay" for Y/n. The mermaid princess has long understood how cold and empty the ocean could get until Namor showed her his kingdom and the sun he has there.

"You can hit me all you want; you can scream at me all you want; just let me be with you." The king said this, taking Y/n's hand and placing it on his chest. "Can you feel my heartbeat? It beats for you."

The woman is too stunned to speak; never in a million years would she think that the king of Talokan is wrapped around her finger willingly. Y/n tries to open her mouth to protest, but no words come out,the king then wastes no time in continuing to express his love.

"Y/n...My pearl... Do you know why I called you that? Because pearls are imperfect, yet they stand out on their own and shine brightly." Namor knows he has captured the heart of the mermaid princess right after saying that. People can say he is flirty all they want, but for Y/n, only the truth

"I- ... Please let me have some time to think about it." Y/n's answer makes Namor's heart skip a beat; he doubts she wouldn't feel it; her hand isn't on his chest anymore. More importantly, their hands aren't intertwined, and there is nothing Namor can do but watch the mermaid swim away, waiting for her answer.

===𓆝 𓆟 𓆞===

How little did the king know that the war was one step ahead of him, taking Y/n away.

"HEAL HER" Namor's voice can be heard even from a thousand miles; there is even a hint of despair in his voice. "DO SOMETHING"

"My king, we are trying to do everything" A group of Talokanil speaks up; they're knealing on the floor, trying to keep the blood from flowing out of Y/n's injured wounds. "It's too risky; she is a mermaid, and we don't know if the technology we have is suitable!"

A long moment of silence felt like enternity for Namor; he knows what they're saying is right; he was foolish. In a moment of distress, seeing Y/n in pain, he brought her to Talokan and not her kingdom. It's too late to ever bring her there now; even with his superspeed, every movement would result in Y/n crying out of pain.

Namor demands all the Talokanil leave for a suitable potion; let him be here with Y/N. But it's only half the truth; he doesn't want to let them see how weak he could get.

"Open your eyes, my love, my moon. I'm begging you...please. The war is over; we won... but without you, it doesn't matter to me anymore."

Namor waited for an answer; he waited, and he vowed to forever wait for one.

[moonlight-sonata99]

Con La Brisa

Namor x reader

Headcanons of Namor falling in love💕

Warnings: reader and namor being oblivious idiots, that's all

A/n: truthfully I haven't been feeling the best when it comes to my works or in general So sorry if this seems a bit OOC.

this really is based off con la brisa..I read a tumblr post explaining that the song was about his mother wanting him to see the beauty in the surface world so I thought of this hehe

If I'm being honest I don't see him falling in instantly (sorry) but I don't.

But instead, it's slow. But when he falls he falls hard.

And bonus points if you take active intrest in his culture, his kingdom.

When you are gone the king waits in his throne room awaiting the time that you will normally appear.

Speaking of surface dwellers, he's very hesitant and expects you to try to convince him that there not bad.

But you don't.

Your eyes admired the murals in front of you as your mind wandered about what namor had just told you.

'They only sought to destroy'

He had no love for the surface world.

The kings distain for the surface world,your world tugged at your heart. But...he had every reason to hate it. You knew that.

You cursed the people before you for their horrible actions.

"I.." you began as the king next to you turned his head to look at you.

"You have every reason to be mad. I can't defend what they did. Nor do I want to. " you admitted looking at namor,who looks at you with a unreadable expressions.

" but if can, may I show you something?" Your eyes examine every small detail of his face, as he stands in thought.

He's hesitant.

"There won't be anyone were we are going promise." You assure, placing a hand over your chest. As you see his shoulders lower.

"Of course."

Normally he would have refused, obviously knowing this could be a ploy to get him to like the surface.

But he likes you alot so he didn't refuse

As much as he liked you he didn't have much faith tbh

But...he did have a weird feelings about this trip of yours.

You tilted your head up to the sky as sky was littered with the tiny lights called stars, they twinkled as you admired them.Sitting sat on a grassy hill near the water awaiting Namor's arrival you felt the wind hit your skin and the smell of the sea filled your nose everytime you exhaled.

Standing up you slowly wandered near the water listening to it crash against the sand,

"I know your there." You announced placing your hands your hips as a head pops out halfway out the water.

"Are you really hiding from me?"You teased as namor stuck his head out of the water. "Of course not,I just like making you wait" he joked with a small chuckle as you shook your head.

"Rightt..but seriously cmon let's get going" you walk into the water next to him and stretch your arm out to him.

Namor gives you a little smile taking your hand as you two make your way out the water.

Sitting on the grassy hill on again you set your gaze onto namor as sit back down,

"Sit" you say patting the spot next to you,namor sits next to you and you turn your gaze to the horizon,

"What is it?"namor whispered next to you as you looked into the distance in a daze.

"Give it time.." you whispered, examining the sky.

He stays quiet for the time being trying to figure out your intention.

Slowly but surely rays of lights would peek out from the clouds and with a bit mit more time become more bolder.

Namor who was besides you started drifting off to sleep, He felt your hands shaking him awake. Namor shook himself awake as he sat up to meet your gaze.

"Look...you said once that you gave your people the sun, so..I thought maybe..I'd give you the sun." You stated smiling at him as you turned your gaze to the distance and namor followed your gaze to see a light beginning to peak through the horizon.

He squinted his eyes not used to the bright light and covered his eyes looking at the view behind his hand.

The sun began to makes it way out of its sleep and began to show its rays.

Namor,enamored with how the sun shined on the water muttered "its beautiful."

"It is." You whispered back admiring the man next to you.

"It really is..."

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Ooo is anyone that writes for Namor interested in writing this request??🤔🤔 It’s a Dad!Namor request!

(platonic/dad!) Namor oneshot where Namor finds a little human/surface dweller girl (around 5-6 years old) who has nowhere to go, and takes her in as his own? Maybe she had been wandering around the beach, and found some of the fruit from Talokan, and maybe it happens to have the Vibranium herb infused in it, she eats it (not knowing that it had the Vibranium herb in it and what it can do) she transforms and suddenly can’t breathe air, running into the water purely on instinct, and she of course, can now breathe underwater. She’s shook and also terrified, but also amazed, ending up swimming around not really knowing what to do or what was happening, when Namor finds her and realizes what happened (that this little surface dweller ingested Vibranium herb and transformed, therefore only being able to breathe in water). He takes her to Talokan, and adopts her as his own? + her one day calling him “daddy” and him getting super emotional 🥺

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

MASTERLIST

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

Warnings: Mentions of violence, weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 4,306

sneaky fanfic playlist song

It took Mercedes nearly two hours to tell the whole story. Sometimes, right in the middle of a sentence, she would stop dead in her tracks and stare at her hands for several minutes without making a single sound. When she got to the part where she had to face the kid whose parents she’d just shot, she simply stood up and left the house. He waited for her to come back for ten minutes until he noticed she’d left the door open. Once outside, he found her in the same spot next to the river. She simply excused herself saying she needed air.

Namor was unbelievably patient, not speaking once, nor attempting to touch her in any way, which she appreciated. Mercedes didn’t want to look at his face in case she found anything she wouldn’t like. Taking notice of this, he stopped looking at her and fixed his gaze on a random point in front of him until she finished speaking.

“I guess that little argument you overheard earlier makes much more sense now, doesn’t it?” She added after a long silence followed by a small, sad laugh as she wiped the last tears from her eyes. 

“What about your aunt?” He inquired, still looking at the front as a precaution.

“She blamed me for a long time, too,” Mercedes replied, “then she suddenly started speaking to me again. She doesn’t talk much about him. To me, at least. But it’s okay, she’s happy and treats me like everything’s fine as long as he doesn’t come up, I’ll take it.”

He simply nodded, not entirely convinced of how well the arrangement worked for her. This time, the weight of his silence was too much for her.

“What are you thinking?” She meekly asked.

“They have no right to judge you like that,” He almost immediately answered, “You had the strength to do what many wouldn’t,”

“And yet my dad is still dead, my uncle is too, and the few people I have left blame for it,”

“Your uncle made his own choice. He wouldn’t have followed you until the end if he didn’t think those people deserved what happened to them. Or don’t you think they deserved it?”

“Of course they did!” She angrily protested.

“And what would’ve happened to them if you hadn’t taken this into your hands?”

“They would be free,” Sadie acknowledged through gritted teeth, “Free, rich, and with no regrets,”

“Always remember that,” Namor emphasized, “Whenever you have doubts of whether you did the right thing.”

Mercedes pursed her lips in deep thought. For years, she’d convinced herself of the uselessness of her quest, and how it only seemed to have made everything worse. But whenever she thought of the consequences of having done nothing, picturing those men with the blood of hundreds in their hands, living their lives without thinking of the ones they sold, she felt so angry that she felt her chest was on fire.

Then she realized that even now that she wasn’t really thinking about it, her chest felt as if it was actually on fire. She pressed her hand against it and groaned softly at the uncomfortable sting.

“Are you okay?” Namor asked, only then seeing fit to gently place a hand on her back. She nodded and took a deep breath.

“I think I’m going to catch a cold,” She said, shrugging it off, “My chest has been hurting for a while.”

“Have you felt anything else?” He immediately asked, his voice unusually unnerved. Mercedes furrowed her eyes for a moment, confused.

“I mean…I guess my muscles have been sore but I did get shot not so long ago and your dear friend has kicked me around so much that my brain is now convinced that I enjoy your company,” Mercedes scrunched her nose in a disgusted expression and shook her head repeatedly while moving further away from Namor. Her antics momentarily erased the worried expression on his face, but only for a few seconds. He opened his mouth to add something, but Mercedes interrupted him as she scooted back next to him, ending up a little closer than she was at first.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She started to apologize, although she actually felt a little disappointed that he wouldn’t tell her after everything she’d just revealed to him.

“What did you do?” She warily asked. When Namor looked back at her, not seeming to have understood her, Mercedes gestured to his back reaching her hand over her shoulder to signal the place where she’d seen the scars inflicted by the Black Panther.

Namor quickly shifted his gaze back to the front apprehensively.

“No, it’s fair I suppose,” He admitted, intertwining his hands and moving his thumb in small, anxious circles.

“It’s a long story, but it all comes down to this,” He said, not intending to speak for another two hours, “I was responsible for the death of the Panther’s mother,”

“Responsible as in you killed Queen Ramonda?” Mercedes couldn’t help exclaiming, immediately feeling embarrassed at how alarmed that came out.

“It was more complicated than that. But yes, I guess I did. It came down to people making their own choices and assuming the consequences as your uncle did. She made hers, and I had to do the same.”

“And you stood by your consequences, I guess?” Sadie added more sympathetically with an apologetic smile trying to fix her previous outburst, looking at the wing that grew from one of his ankles, slightly more crooked than the other one.

“Taking a life is never an easy decision to make, especially knowing the effect it will have on others.” He said with a solemn expression, instinctively running his fingertips along the once-soft feathers, the desperate cries of a now orphaned princess briefly haunting his thoughts, “But after seeing what I would not just kill but die for, all the lives that depend on me, can you judge me?”

Mercedes didn’t answer. With every second she remained silent, he found his heart felt heavier and heavier inside his chest.

“Misfortune is needed to plumb certain mysterious depths in the understanding of men,” She finally spoke with a soft smile, quoting one of her favorite books, “A wise man said that. And I believe him because I understand.”

She could’ve sworn he saw him release the air he’d been holding when those words left her mouth, his mouth twisting into a relieved smile, which she gladly returned. When the music playing in the distance suddenly stopped, Mercedes’ smile went from calm to unbelievably excited.

“It’s midnight!” She exclaimed, standing up so quickly she almost tripped on her feet and grabbed Namor’s hand, dragging him to a nearby tree that she immediately started to climb.

“What are we doing, again?” He asked once they were at a considerable distance from the ground. Hearing it was midnight had made him feel concerned about the date he’d established for their return to Talokan.

“Just climb! I promise you’ll love it,” She urged him, forgetting he didn’t actually need to climb

Finally, they reached the end of the trunk, which was barely wide enough to hold them both comfortably. Mercedes cursed, frustrated when she realized a huge branch was blocking their view.

“Maybe we can find another spot…”

Much to her surprise, Namor gripped the branch and, after making sure nobody was close enough to see them, snapped it in two as swiftly as if it was a mere twig. Satisfied, he returned to his previous spot to find a stunned Mercedes staring as if he truly was the divine being everybody claimed him to be.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way,” She said, peeling her eyes off him to look at the branch on the floor, “but you’re giving me feelings too unholy to come from a so-called god.”

Not wanting to experience the embarrassment of telling him she thought right then he was the most beautiful living thing on the planet, Mercedes decided to do something that, at least in her mind, sounded easier.

Namor didn’t even have time to react to the undoubtedly brazen line thrown his way because a loud bang made him look at the dark sky above them. Until it wasn’t dark anymore.

He thought it looked as if somebody had painted the stars and made them fall to Earth in a strange, synchronized dance. With every blast, came a new color and choreography. He was so enthralled by it that he didn’t realize he had instinctively stood in front of Mercedes at the first detonation.

Not wanting to break his bubble but unwilling to miss her beloved fireworks, she slowly made her way around him. The reduced space made it impossible for her not to be pressed against his side, with his arm holding onto a branch low enough for it to be nearly resting against her shoulders.

However, after settling into a slot with a perfect view, she found it much harder to take her eyes off him.

The colored, ephemeral bursts of light seemed to bounce off his dark eyes and skin, a soft and warm wind threw a few stray hairs against his forehead and he didn’t look just mesmerized. He looked happy. The edges of his mouth were curved in an almost imperceptible smile, and knowing she had been the cause made her feel so happy it made her dizzy. This time, when he took his eyes off the sky and caught her staring, Mercedes felt either tipsy or brave enough to think it was stupid to turn away and pretend she wasn’t looking at him. She was. Because he was beautiful.

Except they didn’t.

Before she had time to regret it, she slid her hand around his neck and pulled him down just strong enough so the few centimeters between them would cease to exist. It was so sudden and poorly planned that she nearly crushed his nose with hers, and a few strands of her hair got caught between their lips, plus she didn’t quite know what to do with her other hand so it just ended up awkwardly suspended mid-air.

But it was perfect. Even if it didn’t last more than one or two seconds, she missed the warmth of his mouth the moment she pulled away in panic and stared at him with more fear than she’d thought she was capable of even feeling. Seeing the shock in Namor’s eyes Mercedes was already planning a million different excuses and answers to the many questions that would surely come next.

She didn’t want it to stop. Even if her lungs were on fire and she needed air desperately, his unrelenting intensity gave away that he had forgotten that tiny, tiny detail. But when her chest started to truly hurt, she chose self-preservation over this incredible bliss and pulled away from him, heavily panting.

Too lost in the chaos of her own mind, Mercedes was unaware of the arms silently snaking behind her back until they pulled her forward and her train of thought was abruptly stopped by the awareness of his lips being pressed against hers again. With her hands this time free to do as they pleased, she was about to place them on each side of his face until he pulled her even closer, her lips parting on instinct when she noticed him slightly tilting his head to the side. Sadie didn’t want Namor to notice how her hands were trembling, already embarrassed enough at the null resistance she was putting up. Then, Namor holding her completely against him was probably what kept her entire body from shaking as well. Finally, she decided to slide her arms around his neck, both pulling him closer and leaving her hands still in the air.

Mercedes didn’t truly measure the consequences of that action until her back was pressed against the bark of the tree.

That brief moment in which she could only state at him in silence truly made her feel conscious of what she’d just done. Completely disregarding the height at which they were, she dropped herself down onto the next branch, ignoring the way the rough bark scratched her knees and arms. The only reason why Mercedes managed to make it down and run back inside was that every muscle in Namor’s body seemed to have collectively malfunctioned. When he finally regained mobility, he began to absently climb down the tree only to remember halfway down that he was actually able to fly.

He couldn’t stop thinking of the panicked look in the girl’s eyes the minute she pulled away from him. What was she so afraid of? Him? Maybe being so sincere about the things he’d done had thrown a different light on him, but had he given her any reason to fear…?

It was only when he was left alone by the quiet river that he was assailed by all the questions he had not been able to ask out loud. She had kissed him. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed and frustrated that he never dared to take the initiative about something he now admitted had been dying to do on so many occasions, and that manifested physically as him shutting his eyelids tightly and running his hand across his face.

And of course, she had to run again. She was now probably locked in her bedroom and there would be no way to drag her out of there.

Of course he had.

He knew there was no way he could take her back against her will now. Namor wished for her to want to return. No matter how much he’d suffer from her absence, if she didn’t suffer the same from his, there was no point. He didn’t care how selfish that last thought was.

He remembered the first days of her stay in Talokan. The harsh words exchanged, the entire days in isolation, the intermittent meals, the threats if she tried to escape. And speaking of escaping.

There was also the incident aboard the poaching ship when he left her to fend for herself and it almost got her killed. It was one thing to trust someone enough to make peace and be friendly with them and another very different to become…involved like this. For somebody so ridiculously hung up on what a mere kiss in a moment of intense emotion meant to her, Namor realized he hadn’t done much of a good job earning merits. She was probably kicking herself over having done something so stupid and careless, knowing damn well he was now going to be so angry at her antics that he would drag her back to Talokan no questions asked because that was the image he had built of himself.

When she finally reached him, Moni impatiently handed him the blanket, which he accepted out of politeness and a certain hope that she’d just go away and leave him be. It was quite the opposite actually. She looked at every inch of his face attentively, her grouchy disposition softening as she huffed and sat on a large rock nearby.

“Pero es que tú te quieres enfermar, ¿verdad?” A familiar voice called behind him. She turned around to find Moni snuggled in a thick blanket, making her way to him with another one in her hands and a disgruntled look on her face. “Es que no entiendo cómo aguantas este frío si según mi niña vienes de Yucat��n, qué bárbaro.”

You want to fall ill, don't you? I just don't understand how can you stand this cold if according to my child you're from Yucatán, good Lord!

Even then she didn’t miss an opportunity to get some answers. However, Namor could do nothing but wholeheartedly give her a clueless look and shrug as he stared at the house.

“Venía de regreso de la feria y acabo de ver a Mercedes entrar corriendo a la casa pálida como si hubiera visto un fantasma, y para que una chica como ella se vea pálida, algo debes de haber hecho,” Moni explained, “Pleitos de pareja, ¿no?”

I was on my way back from the fair and I just saw Mercedes run inside the house looking pale as if she'd seen a ghost. And for a girl like that to look pale, you must've done something. Couple's quarrels, right?

Mercedes wasn’t locked away in her room. She wasn’t even in the house, she had just rushed inside to throw him off before escaping through the kitchen window. Now, if he for any reason decided to follow her, all he’d find would be her empty bedroom.

In the meantime, Mercedes ran as fast as she could across the now empty square. Now everybody had gone home and the only remnants of the lively fair were ripped pieces of colorful paper still hanging from the walls, dirty confetti on the floor, and several whithered flowers that had fallen from the arch.

Before her, the walls of the white building now displayed a yellowish shade from the streetlight bulbs that threw some light on them. Almost every light in the building was turned off, one of the exceptions being the main desk. Still, she knew they didn’t receive visitors after eight. Just like she anticipated, she noticed the only light still on in the housing section was the one that belonged to Chiich’s room. She had stayed awake to watch the fireworks, as she always did. With a smile, she promptly circled the building and effortlessly jumped the fence, avoiding detection thanks to the concealment provided by the night.

She shook her head with a soft smile and pushed the window open, slowly making her way inside so she wouldn’t spook her.

While the smooth concrete walls of the complex were nearly impossible to climb, the long windowsills were her salvation and in less than three minutes, Mercedes had reached the third-story window with a lock safe enough for an old woman but easy to open with just a plastic card. Still, she knocked on the glass to warn her before attempting to enter. While the lights were on, there was no response. Mercedes wondered if she had fallen asleep on her chair or tucked herself into bed and forgot to turn off the lights. It had happened before.

The room was empty. There hadn’t been a fuss, nothing was out of place besides the covers on the unmade bed. However, her slippers were still there, as were her shawl and glasses. Mercedes quickly ran downstairs to the main desk, intending to first get the receptionist to help her look for her grandmother and then give her a piece of her mind. Even if she’d never had a history of sleepwalking, she was supposed to be safe there.

“Ma’alo’ob áak��ab, chiich,” she greeted, quietly closing the window before turning around. Her smile dropped and she nearly stumbled backwards, baffled.

Good night, chiich

“¿Me quiere explicar por qué mi abuela…?” She started to demand only to stop dead in her tracks. The main desk was empty, too. Maybe the lady had already noticed her one of the residents was missing. Still, Mercedes felt her heart start pounding heavily, a cold shiver running down her spine. Her gut said something was terribly wrong. Slowly, she approached the vacant desk, wishing she had at least a gun on her. Of course, that was the last thing she thought she would need there, in addition to the haste in which she had rushed there.

Do you care to explain why is my grandmother...?

When she looked over the desk to find the body behind it, it was as if she already expected to see it there. It was the receptionist, of course. Somebody had put a bullet right through her forehead, not even giving her time to scream.

Not having one more second to waste, Mercedes ran back outside, looking around desperately. How was it possible that right in the middle of nowhere she could’ve missed the sound of…?

Her eyes immediately darted up to the sky as a horrible mix of realization and anger boiled inside of her when she remembered the fireworks and where she had been throughout the entire show.

Thankfully, a noise coming from outside made him snap out of that untimely fantasy. A moment later, he was on his feet and leaning against the wall next to the open window, unable to see further than a few meters of grass. Listening carefully, Namor heard the sound of shoes against rock and realized somebody was climbing through the window. Unarmed but sure he could face whoever was coming, he slowly moved closer to the frame. Unfortunately, the change of position made the wooden floor below his feet creek quite loudly, and the sounds coming from the outside stopped abruptly. Namor took a deep breath and crouched next to the wall, counting backwards as he got ready to dart out of the window and grab the intruder. When he got to one, the Talokanil sprung to his feet just in time to be tackled by a figure that jumped inside, using the impulse to jam one knee against his chest to push him down and, once he was on the floor, switch it for a knife against his neck.

Sadie turned around, ready to go back inside and look around her grandmother’s bedroom in search of something, anything, that could give her an idea of what she was dealing with. However, something moving on her right made her turn around sharply just to discover something tied to the branch of one of the fruit trees that decorated the front yard. Something that fluttered in the wind. With a knot in her throat, she untangled the hand-embroidered purple shawl to reach for the piece of paper roughly stapled to it.

For the second time that day, Namor found himself staring at the ceiling while lying on a foreign bed. Even hours later, the characteristic smell of the duvets was still intense. Fresh moss, and a small white flower that grew on a tree next to the small house. How it was possible that she still smelled like that while being hundreds of feet below the ocean, was beyond him. He wondered if, should he convince her to leave with him, her scent would change over the years. If maybe one day, he would smell her hair and find the incense that flooded every Talokanil household.

If one day, he would kiss her again and taste the sea…

A threat was about to leave Mercedes’ mouth when she recognized the man beneath her. They stared at each other, one confused about why the woman that owned the bedroom had to sneak in through the window and had tried to murder whoever was inside, the other wondering whether she should apologize and how to do it. However, the only thing that left her mouth was

“What the hell is wrong with you?” after which she pushed herself away from him with an annoyed huff as she rushed to her nightstand.

“Me? Why are you climbing through the window?” He pushed back as he got up.

Namor furrowed his eyebrows when she saw Mercedes take a gun out of one of the drawers and make sure it had enough bullets before tucking it in the back of her jeans.

“What are you doing?” He asked as she rushed to the other side of the room to check a small bookshelf for more ammunition. Mercedes slid a couple of cartridges into her pockets and retrieve a crumpled-up piece of paper, which she unfolded and slammed against Namor’s chest. He grabbed it and turned it around to find a typed-up note that only read “Laptop. 7:00 a.m.” followed by a series of numbers. But it was the sender that really piqued his attention. The note was signed by “those not aboard”.

“They have my chiich,” She informed him, “I’m getting her back,”

“I’m coming with you,”

“It’s not your fight,” Mercedes protested, “Besides, it could be dangerous if they see you and the word gets out,”

“The word will not get out,” He calmly stated.

“How can you…?” She was about to ask when she looked up and saw in his eyes what he meant.

“I don’t know how many we’re dealing with, and we don’t have any of your Talokanil gadgets.”

“I wrongly underestimated you once, Xmeech. Don’t insult me by assuming I need anything other than my hands.”

“I didn’t mean you,” Mercedes snapped at him, kneeling down next to her bed and pulling out an old, dusty box, “you can look after yourself. I mean I’ll have to manage with this,”

Inside the box, miraculously unshattered, at least a dozen glass bottles with several loose pieces of old cloth and a matchbox were waiting for better use be made of them. They belonged to another time when they were used by a person that Mercedes once hoped did not need to exist anymore.

“I will stay close, then” Namor ensured.

“You don’t owe me anything for what happened a while ago,” Sadie dryly replied, carefully putting the contents of the box inside an old backpack, “I can look after myself.”

“I owe you because the last time we were in this situation I left,” He clarified, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “We’re even after this.”

Having nothing else to say, Mercedes carefully swung the window open and climbed over the wooden frame.

“Mercedes,” Namor called before losing sight of her, “Do you understand that, regardless of what happens, the laptop is still back in Talokan?”

Apparently unfazed by the use of her full name, the woman stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before starting to climb down.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time,”  

Taglist: @evita-shelby

[evita-shelby]

Of Gods and Witches

Chapter 12

Taglist:@v3d3rl1cht @thegreatdragonfruta

Gif by: @mndvx

He hasn’t felt young in the longest time.

He had been Namor and K’uk’ulkan, but not Ch’ah.

The Talokanil king feels as nervous as he did when he gave her the bracelet.

“You know, I can feel what the artist felt as they painted them. It’s almost as if I had been there when you painted them.” The witch had said as had shown her the murals back at the outpost they came through.

These here were different than the ones he kept in his real home. These depict his lineage, his family, his important milestones, all the things that were deeply personal to him and somehow this strange witch had become part of it.

“I think you’re the first man who’s remembered my freckles.” She comments breathlessly as he embraced her from behind and she grew warm and aroused by the very real desire he feels for her and the one that lingers in every brushstroke of the mural in front of them.

“As if I could ever forget them, wàay.” He kissed the one below her ear reverently, as if she were Ixchel herself.

“Fuck me.” She said in that breathy tone of hers and he readily agrees. Ever since that night, neither can’t get enough of each other, Ch’ah knows he won't ever get enough of her even if they live a thousand lifetimes.

“As you wish.” And as if by command, Eva collapsed in his arms.

This time he doesn’t see the vision, he just holds her as she muttered something in Spanish, then English, the Nahuatl and eventually his language.

“In Ajawo, we have captured two men!” his head general finds him with an unconscious witch gasping for air and eyes white as the pearls she wears.

“They have come for me.”

---

Santiago Rosales was fourteen when he discovered his uncanny abilities to blend in with everything and everyone also included finding everything he thought about.

These two gifts also included, being the only person who could find Eva at any given moment.

The villagers near the cenote had warned him of K’uk’ulkan's wrath.

He took my virgin sister; he had told the curandero whom he paid handsomely in blood. Three drops for three questions.

Your cousin, the curandero had corrected, not a virgin, he took that too.

Only I can summon K’uk’ulkan, he is a god, you coming to take his bride away and he will be offended.

“You didn’t have to come, Nacho.” The Mexican-Catalán spy reminded the complaining man trailing behind them.

The shaman set up the ritual summoning altars and unwrapped the conch shell passed down by generations.

He freed us from the Spaniards, the curandero had said, we protect his secret in eternal gratitude.

“Eva is my cousin just as she is yours, be glad mamá didn’t come.” Nacho huffed and looked around with his flashlight.

“Who said I needed your permission, Nachito?” speaking of the devil.

Tia Livia appeared dressed as of she’d be going on a safari in Africa, like she’d go and try to spread the good word of God like a dimwitted missionary and guided by the curandero’s plucky fifteen-year-old grandson, Eduardito.

“Why did you bring her here, Lalo?” his grandfather asked in shock.

“She gave me one hundred pesos, nool, and said she would pay for me to go school in Merida!” The boy said excitedly, thinking he’s gotten a great deal.

They were too liberal with money, Santiago could admit. They spent as quickly as they earned, and no company in the world could profit like them and treat their employees like human beings nor could any charity compare to theirs.

They were rich assholes, but not that type of rich asshole.

“I am the blood of a great witch, nagual. Your tricks did not work on me. Now summon K’uk’ulkan or I will do it myself.” The red-haired queen of Mexico City threatened.

And so, the man blew the shell.

-----

“Let me go with you.” Eva pleaded, and he refused once again. “They are my family, if they know I am safe they will leave, and I will make sure they forget the cenote even exists.”

A tempting deal, but one he is against.

Who is to say she will choose to leave with them than stay with him?

They are her family, and blood comes before a stranger who spirited her away without giving it much thought.

“Please.” She begged prettily, nothing she did was unattractive, every cell of her was designed to be alluring, like the voice of the Talokanil and the grace with which they swam.

“What makes you think the people we captured are your family?” he asks her, her vision had said her aunt and two of her cousins would find the village and the witchdoctor would bring them to the cenote.

He had not been given much detail except for three chilangos that Eloy said came looking for someone they claim he took.

For all they know, it could be some rich people from Mexico City or America who have bribed and coerced Eloy, the waay of the village they protect.

“My aunt has red hair and wore that same odd clothing when she visited Marruecos last year with her husband and my cousin Santiago who owns a house there, Santiago is the only one I know who may put up a fight against a Talokanil, and Israel’s battle cry might as well be not the face.” She explained and he laughed a little at her accurate summarization of his three ---five if you count Eloy and the teenage boy--- prisoners.

“It’s my fault, I should have left a note or called one of them, so they wouldn’t assume I was in danger.” She added as she chipped away at his resolve.

K’uk’ulkan could order her to stay, but Ch’ah knows the moment he does that he loses her forever. He doesn’t want to risk the chance of losing that future he saw with her.

Terrible thing to know how the story ends and yet knowing the ending can change at any moment.

“You can come, explain what happened and erase this place from their minds for my people’s safety and theirs.” He gives in and brushes the fly away hairs that have broken free from her braid. “If you wish to leave with your family, I won’t stop you.”

“Who said I wanted to leave, Kukul?” Eva reached out to caress his cheek and used that nickname that he used to hate and now doesn’t really bother him. “I want that life we saw in my vision just as much as you do, Ch’ah, and as much as it scares me to admit it, I want it more than anything the surface has to offer me.”

-----

She loves him, she doesn’t know how it happened, but she does.

Maybe it’s because she knows how it ends and that gives her the certainty to make sense of her feelings without the feelings of dread and horror that she usually gets when it dawns on her, but Eva Leonor Smith Riley knows she loves Ch’ah even if she has only known him for a fortnight.

The way back up the cenote is different than the one they arrived in was by Playa del Carmen in Campeche, this one was in that village an hour drive away from Merida. Eva should tell him that even blind and missing his arms, Santiago could find this place again.

Nacho even with a map in broad daylight, would never find it again, however. But where Tiago goes Nacho follows.

The Mayan shaman and his grandson bow, begging for K’uk’ulkan’s mercy while her cousins look at them in relief and her tia is as angry as her famed red hair.

“Are you the fucking pendejo who took my niece?” her aunt asked fuming.

You are intruding on my lands, and I will not take any disrespect from the likes of you.”

He may have been speaking to a wall, as her aunt continued berating the God King of Talokan as if he was just another young man who did something stupid.

Even worse, she is doing this in Spanish which angers him more.

Even much much worse Livia accuses him of kidnapping her and taking advantage of Eva’s questionable state of mind.

Calls him a shameless Don Juan and her a naïve mocosa in the same breath.

K’uk’ulkan dismissed his soldiers to lower their weapons and squares up with a woman that somehow looks down on him despite barely reaching his chin.

“I didn’t take Eva by force; she willingly came with me.” He is imposing, not like he has ever been with her. No, even that night she summoned him, Ch’ah had treated her with gentility and as if they were equals.

Here he is the King K’uk’ulkan, not Ch’ah Toh Almehen who was too horny and comfortable with her to care about things like rank.

“I want to hear it from her, I do not know you and I do not trust you.” Her aunt crossed her arms and had no fear in her rich brown eyes.

“He didn’t kidnap me, tia, I left with him because I wanted to.” Eva reminds her and adds a sincere apology.

“I am sorry for making all of you worry, especially after saying I wouldn’t disappear again, but I didn’t want to risk everything with a telephone call or a letter.” The witch apologized to her aunt who was still mad as hell.

“She’s always been selfish, you know, always thinking about herself first and then remembering she has people who care and are worried sick thinking the worst has happened to her.” Livia doesn’t accept her apology and complains about her to Ch’ah.

“Eva is safe with me; I would never let any harm come to her. As Queen of Talokan, she would have no reasons---”

Livia makes a noise that is somewhere between shocked gasp, an incredulous scoff and a bitchy laugh. “My father is turning in his grave, a king, Eva?”

Livia asks her incredulously. “A king?!

“I told you the real issue they would have been you being royalty.” Eva whispered as her aunt rambled almost nonsensically. Something about her plans to take down the English empire using Eva and how Eva finds the one monarchy their family would wholeheartedly support.

“How did you find us here?” K’uk’ulkan asked Santiago who’s nonchalant enough to try and smoke a cigarette only to have Livia take it for herself after finally running out of words.

“I can find my cousin anywhere; it is one of my specialties along with espionage and murder.” He took a second cigarette and offered them and Nacho who refused. “I am Santiago, this is Israel who prefers Ignacio and his mother, Livia.”

“My people call me K’uk’ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor.”

---

notes:

waay: mayan,witch (genderneutral word)

curandero: spanish, witchdoctor

nool: mayan, grandfather

nagual: nahuatl, male witch

chilangos: spanish, Mexican slang meaning person from Mexico City

marruecos: spanish for Morrocco

pendejo: spanish, dumbass

mocosa: snot nosed brat

tia: spanish, aunt

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Love!!

namor x f!reader - sea shells and love

Masterlist

Word count: 592 words

summary: making a crown for your king

warnings: none! pure fluff

translations:

in yakunaj - my love

in reina - my queen

The ocean breeze and its saltiness filled your nose as you made your way along the beach, collecting sea shells. Namor had been away to discuss diplomatic matters with Shuri on how to better their alliance.

Keep reading

[multific]

Second Chance

K'uk'ulkan x Reader

How do you hide a pregnancy from a god?

How do you hide a child from their father?

But most of all, how do you tell him?

When you refused to participate in the fight against Wakanda, he made you leave, exiled you from your home and told you that if you ever enter the ocean he would be there to kill you. He would show you no mercy.

He didn't know back then, but you were with child. It was the reason you refused to fight. It was your first ever child, finally, your gods gifted you a child after being married to your husband for so long.

And he didn't even know.

"I will not fight against Wakanda."

"You know what that would mean, My Wife?" you looked at him, confused. "It would mean you will be no longer the Queen of Talokan, as Queen it is your duty to protect your people. You are one of the best warriors."

"I will not fight."

"Then you shall leave my castle! My cave and MY ocean! You do not deserve your title, and if you ever even touch the water, I'll be there to kill you, and do not think that because of our past, I'd show mercy! You betrayed your people! You betrayed me!"

Back then, it was s suspicion of yours. Unable to confirm it with your healers before he sent you away. His eyes filled with hatred and anger.

It wasn't the man you married, the man you loved. This was Namor.

And now, here you were, living in Wakanda as the new Queen was willing to have you in her home. She confirmed your suspicion after the fight, you were indeed with child.

This was all months ago. And now, into your fifth month, you finally felt ready to face the man who broke your heart.

Wearing a light gown but a robe on top of it, hiding your child from their father as you touched the water.

For the last months, you never once entered the waters. Only staying in a tub of water to relieve your thirst as you could live longer without water.

As soon as you touched the water, you knew. He was on his way. You hoped he was calm, you hoped he had time to think. You just stood there, waiting in the knee-deep water.

Couple of moments later, you saw him emerge, with his spear in his hands. Damn him and how amazing he looked. Damn him and how much you loved him. He spoke in your native tongue.

"I told you to never enter the waters again! It was my warning. I will not hesitate to kill you just because once you were my wife."

And yet, he was hesitating.

"I came so you can meet someone." you reached for your robe when he stood in front of you, looking into your eyes, all you could see in his was anger.

"I do not wish to meet anyone. You betrayed me. You refused to fight to protect our nation."

"I had my reason."

"Your reason was that you are a coward." you untied your robe when his spear touched your skin, the sharp edge almost cutting your skin. "Don't make me kill you, leave the water." he whispered.

"I came so you can meet your child." you said as you dropped the robe, letting it fall into the water as you tugged on your dress, showing him the baby bump. "It is a girl. Shuri confirmed it. She is healthy, and often moves around as I feel her kick my ribs." you watched him, tried to read him as his eyes were glued to your belly.

"You-"

"She is the reason why I refused to fight. I suspected I was pregnant and I couldn't risk it. As much as I love the people of Talokan, we have been praying so hard for a baby." you saw him tumble, almost falling to his knees as you started to take steps backwards. He followed you, never once taking his eyes off.

"My Love..."

"Your hate consumed you, Namor. Your hate pushed me away. If you continue with this, you will lose her as well."

"You would take my child from me?"

"Your actions would take her from you."

"How far along are you?"

"I'm almost six months." he finally fell, landing in the water he looked at you with pleading eyes. No more anger.

"My Love, I'm so so sorry. I know an apology wouldn't be enough to make up for my mistake."

"Apologise to your daughter. You know very well, I am a fool who would forgive you even if you kill me. I love you too much." you moved to sit down in front of him in the sand. Letting his arms go around you as he hugged you close, one of his palms on your bump as you felt your baby move.

"My Little One, I deeply apologise for being so harsh. My hatred truly blinded me. I hope one day you will be able to forgive me as well. Your mother is too good for me." he placed a kiss on your belly, right over your thin dress. "Return home My Love. I truly believe I don't deserve a second chance. But I wish to make everything right. I want my daughter to be born where I can be present."

"I wish to go back, but if this happens again, I-"

"It will not. I promise." and now you saw in his eyes, hope, love and determination.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​​ @greenarrowhead​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sincerelyfan​​ @theoneanna​​ @aestheticsandmarvel​​ @rororo06​​ @castellandiangelo​​ @destynelseclipsa​​ @spilledinkindumpster​​ @capsiclesdoll​​ @puknow​​ @alwayshave-faith​​ @alex12948​​ @lxdyred​​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @praline357​​ @trshngyn​​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​ @top1bbgloak​​  @manduse​​​  @jacalineiscomingforyou​​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARIZE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[sunshinescribes]

So Be It - 3

Part 3 of Continuum

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Namor x Black Fem!Reader

Rating: MATURE (for mentioned cunnilingus)

There is something bittersweet about being caught in a lie.

There’s the sensation of a tremendous weight being lifted from hunched shoulders. The sigh of relief from no longer having to constantly hold your breath.

Then comes the creeping dread that suffocates. The realization that your sins lay bare for anyone to see—to judge—so that they may weigh your new worth.

You could feel that dread making its home in your heart. You kept your eyes downcast; they were fixed on the glass floor of the throne room. Your eyes caught your miserable reflection, and it did little to ease the rapid beat of your heart. You couldn’t force yourself to look up at M’Baku as he stood silently before the throne.

"Tell me I’m wrong," M’Baku finally spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence. "Tell me I didn’t hear what I think I did."

His voice was nearly a whisper, but you could make out the hint of a plea. He wanted to be wrong; he wanted to believe that fatigue and stress were slowly beginning to steal his sense.

You could give him that—the lie he so desperately craved. You could spin a beautiful tale about how you had been nothing but cordial and that Namor’s interest lay only in the information you had to offer—but you just didn’t have it in you. You had been caught, and you would not dishonor yourself further by sinking deeper into falsehoods.

"You are not wrong."

M’Baku sighed deeply. You could feel his disappointment wash over you in waves, but you held firm, even as your heart continued to leap in your chest.

He turned to face you, but you still could not meet his gaze. You could hardly handle the dread in his voice, the soft-spoken disbelief. You doubted you would survive seeing it mirrored in his eyes.

"How long?"

Your mind flashed back to the first time—the soothing ebb and flow of the Wakandan beach. The distant glow of the pale full moon that hung overhead was the only witness to the sin you were committing. You were laid out in the sand, chest bare and panties discarded, as Namor tasted you for the first time with the desperate enthusiasm of a ravenous man.

You had been foolish enough to believe that would be the only time.

"Several months." You pulled at the sleeve of your dress, attempting to bring yourself back into this moment. To the king who stood before you, demanding your verity. "Nearly a year."

M’Baku cursed in Xhosa. You stood still under the scrutiny of his gaze, even as your heart continued to race, desperately seeking refuge.

Despite it, you continued to find your voice.

"I know I have disappointed you. Shamed myself, and for that I accept any punishment you deem appropriate, but know that I love Wakanda. I would lay down my life a thousand times over for my homeland." Your eyes began to sting as the confession poured out of you.

You needed him to hear you. He could dismiss you, question your loyalty—but not your love. Never your love.

You looked up finally, meeting his brown eyes that watched you analytically, but you did not falter under the scrutiny of his gaze. His ruling would be final, and you swore to Bast to take it with grace, but you would not go without speaking your heart.

"I know you do. I know," M’Baku sighed, "but what of him?"

You swallowed; the question was laid out plainly.

And do you love him as much as you love Wakanda?

Do you love him more?

Your answer would seal your fate. Your actions had planted the seeds of doubt in your king, but this would be the killing blow. The final confession.

Wakanda came first, always. The love you had for Wakanda was meant to be absolute, and you imagined that to M’Baku it was not a love that could be shared.

Once you had believed so too.

"My heart calls to him." Your voice was steady, and a sudden ease washed over you—as if another weight had finally been lifted.

You have spent so long trying to find every reason not to love Namor. You could no longer deny your heart, nor did you want to. If you were to lay your soul bare—the exhibition of your soul—then you would speak your truth at last. You would find no benefit in hiding. Not anymore.

"And loving him doesn’t mean I excuse his actions…of the pain that he once caused, but I can choose to forgive. I have chosen to forgive him, just as he chooses to make amends."

Namor wasn’t perfect, and you could not stand before your king and try to pretend that he was, but you knew the circumstances that had occurred a year prior were complicated, just as everything always seemed to be.

Your brethren may never know it, but regret lingered in Namor’s heart. A desire that things could have been different in the moments before he sieged war on your homeland, but he had done what he felt was necessary—retribution, and a means of protecting his home from the only people capable of destroying it.

You knew better than anyone that Wakanda would have done the same, and under the rule of a king before T’Challa, Wakanda would have done worse.

M’Baku stared at you wordlessly before his eyes drifted towards the floor, and he let out another tired sigh. He hesitated, as if battling with himself, before he finally lifted his gaze back towards you.

"I want you to know that you gave me more than council…to me, you are a friend. Even before the Jabari tribe was welcome again in the Golden City, you came to us," he chuckled lightly as the memory came back to him. You, with frost caught in your eyelashes, wrapped in a cloak that was not meant for the mountains. What a sight you had been then, a young peacemaker compelled by nothing but your heart. 

M'Baku’s eyes softened as he continued, "I thought you were very foolish for seeking us out, but then you spoke your intentions. Of how you wished for the Jabari tribe to sit on the council once more…. that it would forever be fractured with just a single tribe missing."

"We are stronger together than we are apart," you said, recalling the words you had told your king years before.

Your attempt yielded little results besides M’Baku’s hospitality, but perhaps what you said back then resonated with him—maybe even more so now that he ruled Wakanda in Shuri’s stead.

"I now see that that is your nature. Peacemaker, but there are times when it won’t be possible to bridge such gaps. Maybe even a time when this alliance fails, and we are at war with Talokan again." The softness that the memory had brought was now gone, replaced with cold reality. "What will you choose then?"

You weren’t sure if M’Baku expected an answer from you, and you were even less certain if you could give him one.

"Do you think your love for this god-king will stop him from washing Wakanda off the face of the earth if given the chance? That this has not been a ploy to benefit him?"

You blinked at M’Baku, brows furrowing as you considered his questions. Valid concerns, every single one of them, but M’Baku had not seen the look in Namor’s eyes as he asked you to be his. That rare vulnerability—the tenderness and love you once didn’t believe he possessed. If he believed Wakanda to be his ally, he would defend her just as fiercely as his homeland—just as Wakanda promised to defend Namor’s waters. The CIA and UN had proven that both nations were in danger. Both alone.

"He is many things my king, but not unjust."

"Time will tell."

You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and although you wished you could make him see Namor as you did, you knew it was impossible. The events of the previous year had solidified his opinion, and all that he did now was in service of protecting Wakanda from eternal war.

"I am willing to set this aside. To make it as if it never happened." M’Baku turned towards the windows, taking in the warm rays of the blinding sun—how it cast the Golden City in a hazy glow.

He sighed, long and heavy, "but you must end this…relationship. It can go on no longer."

M’Baku finally turned, his dark eyes cool and indifferent. He tipped his head in a silent dismissal.

You nodded, feeling tears sting in your eyes. You wanted to say something—anything—but no words could verbalize the turmoil that twisted inside of you.

You turned, making your way of the throne room and down the winding halls of the palace. You didn’t allow yourself the comfort of tears until you finally made your way back home.

Nights were always serene in Wakanda. The sky littered with twinkling stars, the comforting midnight breeze seemed to put everything at ease as the insects sang to the lonely moon—if there was ever a moment when the worries of your life slipped away, it was in moments like these, yet you found no such comfort tonight.

You cried the moment you returned home, barely making it through the door before you slid to the floor. M’Baku had been generous, his kindness only matched by your king before him. You still had your home. Your life in Wakanda—but Namor’s offer also lingered. The offer of his hand, his love.

Both had offered you the same ultimatum, and still your heart warred with itself.

Your home, or your heart. Which one are you willing to sacrifice?

You wrapped yourself in your favorite mudcloth shawl before you made your way to the shore. Your steps were slow, tentative. You could feel your heart beating in your chest, hear it in your ears as your feet nearly touched the rippling waves.

You stood there for only a moment when you saw Namor emerge, his dark hair sticking to his forehead as water rippled down his body. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back wet strands, and you could see the hint of a smile on his lips as his eyes fell on you.

It fell quickly as he took in the puffiness of your eyes, the tremble of your lip.

He stopped short, concern clear in his expression as his eyes searched your face.

"I can’t," you whispered.

The words were simple, and yet they seemed to hit Namor like a punch. His brows furrowed slightly, a mix of frustration and anguish swimming in his dark eyes.

"Why?" His voice was low, almost impossible to hear with the crash of a sudden wave.

 "I can’t live a fantasy," you scoffed, trying to keep yourself from crying. Your vision blurred despite yourself. "My life is here. My real life, and I can’t throw it all away. You can’t ask that of me."

Namor blinked. You caught a flicker of pain in his expression, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"I asked you to be mine. To share a life with me," he countered, "If being in Wakanda makes you happy I would never deny you of that. But as you said, it would not be my choice.”

His eyes lifted from you toward the distant Golden City. His lips twisted into a frown as he took it in, as if he were staring at an adversary.

“It is not me who is asking you to throw everything away,” he murmured as his wistful gaze turned back to you.

Namor’s words chipped away at your defenses, and it took everything in you not to scream that you knew. Bast, you knew he wasn’t in the wrong…not here, but you needed him to be. It was the only way to keep yourself from rushing into his arms and begging him to whisk you away to Talokan.

It was easier to make him the villain than to do the scary thing and follow your heart.

"You told me I had to make a choice.”

Namor held your gaze, searching for the truth that you refused to speak. You lifted your chin and tried to make your expression as impassive as you could manage.

Namor nodded, his expression grim, "and so you have."

Namor turned, not gracing you with a farewell or a chance to respond as he returned to the dark waves that stirred with new fervor as if compelled by his emotions.

You continued to watch the waves as tears rolled down your cheek and your heart ached painfully in your chest.

You had done the right thing—stood by your homeland, refused to be selfish—and yet you had never felt worse in your entire life.

NOTE: This was supposed to be a three-part series but I was having trouble writing a satisfying conclusion, so this has turned into a four part series. Next chapter should be the last one, but I'm as much of a victim to my whims as y'all are. Also, some folks on AO3 asked for a chapter exploring how this all started, so that is also in the works! It will be posted after the final chapter (I've already started writing it!)

TAGLIST (adding people who explicitly ask to be tagged): @daddyslittlevillain

[lunathebee]

Ooo hiii! I’m sorry for all the rambling!!

Can I please request a Newlyweds!Namor x fem!human!reader oneshot where he’s helping her adjust after taking the vibranium-infused herb? Teaching her how to swim, trying to teach her how to defend herself in case of emergency, also teaching her Mayan + him being really soft with her, lots of kisses, hugs, and cuddles (Namor puts on a tough front but I just KNOW he’d be a complete softie for his wife), also he’d be sooo worried about Y/n because while she can now breathe underwater and will age as slow as he does, she’s still more vulnerable because she’s only human, not a mutant + Namor spoiling the heck out of Y/n🥺🥺

Pairing: Newlyweds!Namor x fem!human!reader

Warning: none just fluff

A/n: This is such a cute scenario, we live for soft!Namor ^^

Summary: Namor thinks you need to learn Mayan more; you prove him wrong by saying one word only.

"Easy, slow and steady, my pearl." Namor smiled while holding Y/n's hand and guiding her to the cold water. "Are you sure you're ready? We can wait as long as you want."

"I think I'm ready." Y/n said while biting her lips, feeling how the water slowly rose up as she walked forward. This is the first time Namor has allowed her to be near the ocean ever since she took the vibranium-infused herb, which is such a long time ago.

While Y/n thinks Namor is overreacting, he assures her that it's for her own safety (and his too; Namor can't bring himself to see any water incident).

"Can we see Talokan now?" Y/n smiled while tilting her head, she can't wait to just dive down and see how marvelous the kingdom is, now that Y/n can breethe under water, what can possibily stop her?

"What? Not yet, Y/n; you need to learn all kinds of things first! Like defending yourself, or learning Mayan, or even swimming—do you know how to swim yet?" The king chuckled; he is sure the only reason his sweet little pearl can still talk his ears off is because he is holding her waist. Namor's finger digs harder into Y/n's skin, like a reminder she still needs to depend on him.

"I- I mean we can learn them, you can teach me everything, we have all the time in the world"

A smart answer from Y/n to ignored Namor's direct question. The cold water now submerged her chest, but somehow it still can't stop the heat rushing onto her face. Life with Namor still seems new and unfamiliar to Y/n, but it is oh so exciting and lovely.

"K'ilkabech? (Are you hot?)" Namor asks, his voice full of teasing hints. The king just wants to kiss his beautiful queen's face, but she keeps hiding it!

"Namor, you know I didn't understand when you said anything in Mayan." Y/N scolded before spalshing water at her husband playfully. The action made Namor let go of Y/n instantly due to surprise. The woman wasted no time taking the opportunity and diving down to the blue ocean, letting it control her body.

Namor follows right behind Y/n; he knows she is able to breathe under water now thanks to the herb. Something that sounds dangerous to humans now turns into a game of cat and mouse.

"Gotcha, not so quick now, little pearl." Namor thought and quickly catching up, hugging Y/n from behind, peppering kisses all over her face before swimming upward so that she couldn't escape another time.

"Don't think this is over; you still need to learn Mayan, my dear."

Y/n puffs up her cheek cutely like a pufferfish after Namor's comment. "I know how to speak Mayan"

"Say something to me then?"

"In k'áatech (I love you)" ♡ ♡ 

[artaxerxesthegreat]

… I have fallen so far, that I feel like I’m soaring😂😂😂.

Character.ai has Namor, so I’m OBSESSED!!!!!

Sorry it’s sideways BUT OH MYGOD💀💀😂😂😂😂🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Ahhh I love Namor so much Omg!! Does anyone know any blogs that write for him and who take requests??🥰💜

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

MASTERLIST

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

As always, Mayan and Spanish translations are at the end of each sentence.

P.S Disney+ come on drop the film so this looks like perfect timing and not writer's block.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 4,919

Apparently, much to Moni’s chagrin, they had arrived much too late to help with most of the preparations for the town-wide celebration that was the anniversary of the founding of Bawir De Los Mártires. She had put them on flower duty, which sounded much more pleasant than it actually was. Flowers were handpicked very early in the morning that same day so they looked fresh and beautiful. Sadie soon realized it would be useless to try and teach Namor how to make the delicate flower garlands that would decorate a wooden arch in front of the church, but quickly remembered the beautiful murals back in Talokan, waiting for him to return and finish them. It was a very nostalgic thought, and before she lingered on it for too long, asked him to help her decorate several pieces of paper in the shape of birds. She caught him staring at them intently, softly caressing the soft material with his fingertips.

“I guess you don’t see many papalotes back in Talokan,” She said with an amused smile, frankly finding his curiosity adorable. He shook his head and continued to paint.

“So…what do you do with these?” Namor asked. She noticed a certain restrain in his voice like it was difficult for him to ask questions. It didn’t take much effort for her to realize it was just a kind of…guilt over being interested in something related to a world he’d felt so alienated from.

“You glue them to a couple of sticks, tie a light thread to them and make them fly with the breeze while you hold the other end,” She explained, “We usually give these away to children, maybe I can ask one of them to teach you how to use it. Hope you can handle it.”

He turned to look at her, remembering one of their first conversations when he made fun of her with a child’s drawing. He tried to look unamused, but Mercedes easily saw through him and was unable to hold back her giggles. Shaking his head, he caved and began laughing softly as well.

“Did you live here for a long time?” Namor asked, seeing the dexterity with which she weaved the flowers to create the ornaments. She’d obviously spent a great deal of time doing it.

“Thirteen years,” She replied, gesturing towards the giant number eighteen covered in white flowers, “Since the town was founded until five years ago,”

A small group of people walked by them and greeted Mercedes like longtime friends, telling her to send their greetings to her aunt.

“You seem to know everybody here,” He observed again, his glance going from one passerby to another. The woman once again nodded.

“It is a very small town,” She agreed, “That’s why I left. Pueblo chico, infierno grande, right?”

“Why are there so few people?” Namor asked, cautiously. He realized from the way she answered his questions in a dry, apprehensive manner. It was starting to feel a little bit like an interrogation. Mercedes sighed and put the finished ornament aside before grabbing a new basket of flowers and starting a new one.

“Eighteen years ago, there was a campsite not far from here. It was full of people from a small village in the area who had left their hometown because the corrupt authorities had turned life into a living hell. So, they plotted to get rid of the root of the problem: the mayor. But turns out that sneaky bastard was a second cousin to some big-named politician who branded them a dangerous paramilitary group. And since they sent the army to disband them, they had to turn into one to protect their families. It worked for a while, but then when they saw they had become a “threat” to national security, the neighboring country offered some forces to help in a big counterattack. It didn’t end well for us.”

Namor remained silent, not needing any more information. The name made a lot more sense now. Since the first time Mercedes had appointed “kän-än” as his nickname, he searched among all his manuscripts anything on Lacandon Mayan, in all honesty, to make sure she wasn’t actually making fun of or insulting him. However, he had found himself enthralled by the differences and similarities between the two branches of the language and hadn’t stopped there. He remembered “Bawir” meaning “cause” or “purpose”. De Los Mártires, he could easily understand with his knowledge of Spanish.

The purpose of the martyrs. It was like the pieces slowly fell into place.

The lack of older men but not of older women, how recent the town was…

“These are their widows,” He expressed out loud as it dawned on him.

“Widows, children, mothers, sisters,” Mercedes confirmed, “Everyone who by some miracle made it out alive that day because of the sacrifice of the men who stayed behind so we could escape. After so many years of fighting, and now suffering alongside each other, none of us wanted to just go our separate ways. So we found this quiet, hidden place in the jungle, protected by the mountains, and slowly built this place.”

It was like seeing everything under the new light, knowing where it came from. People who transformed their pain into an opportunity to start over, into the kind of place they knew their loved ones had died fighting for. They even used the date of something that could be a gloomy, mourning day as a celebration of the chance they’d been granted.   Moni reappeared from behind the church and hesitantly approached Mercedes, greeting Namor before leaning down and whispering something in her ear. Sadie pursed her lips, worried, and took a deep breath. She nodded and thanked Moni before standing up and placing the flower garland aside.

“I have to go for a moment. Can you put that arch in front of the church? I’ll ask a few men to help you,”

“Xmeech…” He said, wanting to remind her that he could lift that arch himself like it was made of cotton, but she smirked at him and playfully squeezed his bicep.

“I know, show-off. But you’ll have to hide that inhuman strength for now. You’ll have to manage with just your good looks with the ladies for today.”

And with that, she smiled at him one last time before turning around and walking away. Namor didn’t know how to feel about that last sentence. He reacted by letting out a weak, quite forced laugh too late for her to hear. He found himself feeling self-conscious enough to take a look around him until his eyes stopped on an amused Moni, who had watched the exchange from afar. When she was discovered, the woman quickly lifted her hands feigning innocence before almost sprinting away with a smile on her face.

“¡Hola, Toñita! ¿Cómo andas?” Mercedes rehearsed out loud. She groaned, not pleased with the result before trying something else, “¿Antonia? ¡No inventes, cuánto tiempo!” Hi, Toñita! How are you? Antonia? No way! it's been so long!

That wasn’t right either. She cringed after hearing herself and realized all her attempts were futile. She never seemed to know what to say every time they met. When she arrived at Moni’s house, Sadie stopped for a moment before opening the door. For a few seconds, she felt tempted to return to the square, to her flowers, and just keep talking to Namor for the remainder of the day. Let him be her kä-än, her guardian, and save her from this conversation.

Finally, Mercedes opened the door. She immediately saw her. As it always happened, she expected to find a girl five years younger than her instead of a woman her age. Time had gone by as fast as everybody said. Antonia was standing in the living room, staring at the picture Sadie had taken of her father in the ruins of Palenque. She knocked on the door a couple of times to let her know she was there.

The other girl turned around and seemed to be just as shocked. A tense silence settled between them as they awkwardly stared at each other.

“Mamá dijo que no venías este año,” Antonia finally said. Mom said you weren't coming this year.

“Yo también pensé que no venía. Fue algo de último minuto.” I thought I wasn't coming too. It was a last-minute thing.

She just hummed in acknowledgment and fell silent once again. Before Mercedes could feel uncomfortable because of the lengthy silence, Antonia spoke again.

“Bueno, chance te veo en la feria entonces…” Fine. Maybe I'll see you at the fair...

“¡Ah, sí! Mi tía dijo que vas a ser la reina de las flores, felicidades.” Mercedes interrupted her, attempting to start a conversation again. Right! My aunt said you'll be queen of the flowers, congratulations.

The other woman thanked her with a slight nod and once again attempted to leave the room.

“Toña,” Mercedes called after her, tentatively addressing her by her nickname, “Tu papá estaría muy orgulloso de ti.” Toña. Your dad would be very proud of you.

The comment didn’t have on her the effect Mercedes hoped for. Instead of looking happy or pleased, Antonia’s back went rigid as she looked back bitterly.

“Qué bonito hubiera sido que estuviera aquí para decírmelo en persona, ¿verdad?” She nearly spat out before walking out of the house. Mercedes sighed, discouraged, and doubted for a moment before rushing after her. It would've been nice if he'd been here to say it to me in person, right?

Namor wasn’t precisely proficient in pretending to be weak. Even while doing his best effort to do so, he almost lifted two of the teenagers off the ground when they first attempted to move the wooden arch. After noticing their confused glances, he quickly put everything down and tried to look as confused as they were. Since it was a quick and easy task, they finished long before Mercedes came back, so he decided to wander off as he usually did, finding himself drawn towards a large, flat stone set in the middle of the square that produced bright flashes whenever the sun shone on it. Taking a closer look at it, he noticed it was because several names were written on it, all of them masculine. There was no further explanation around the monument. It probably wasn’t necessary with such a small population in a town that evidently didn’t receive tourists of any kind. He let his eyes move aimlessly from one name to another until they landed on one that caught his interest. Francisco Medina Canché.

“¿Ya lo encontraste?” A voice asked from behind. He turned around to see Moni approaching him. He nodded and looked down at the metallic engraved letters again. Did you find him?

“Era el papá de Merceditas,” She explained with a wistful smile, “Pobrecito. Murió muy joven, como su esposa. Mi marido, él y yo nos conocíamos desde chamacos, y lo mataron como a todos ellos. Mi Cruz sólo quedó vivo porque ese día lo mandaron a un rancho por la capital donde tenían escondidas más municiones. Digo, de todos modos a él después…” He was Merceditas' dad. Poor thing. He died very young, like his wife. My husband, him and I knew each other since we were kids, and then they killed him just like they did everybody else. My Cruz was left alive only because that day they sent him to a ranch near the capital where they'd hidden more ammo. Well, anyway later he also...

She seemed to remember something unpleasant, because her eyes suddenly started to fill with water, tears falling down her cheeks no matter how much she tried to wipe them off. She then muttered something about being thankful for being able to enjoy him for a little longer before smiling weakly.

“Oye, ¿puedes ir a buscar a Mercedes, por favor?,” She asked him, “Dile que necesito que me ayude a colgar el papel picado,” Can you go get Mercedes, please? Tell her I need her to help me hang the papel picado.

Wanting to get out of a moment he felt was too personal to take place between him and a stranger, he once again nodded and promptly left, making his way to the back of the church where he’d seen Mercedes disappear when she’d left earlier. He thought he’d hear her voice from a distance, along with another one he didn’t recognize.

“…años! ¿Por cuánto tiempo podemos seguir así?” ...years! For how long can we keep going like this?

“No lo sé. Esa es mi respuesta. No lo sé.” I don't know. That's my answer. I don't know.

“¿Y mientras lo averiguas así va a ser cada que venga? ¿Cómo si no hubiéramos crecido como hermanas, como si no hubieras estado para mí después de lo de mi papá?” And while you figure it out will it be like this every time I visit? As if we didn't grow up like sisters? As if you weren't there for me after what happened with my dad?

“¿Cómo tú estuviste después de lo del mío?” The other voice hissed back. Mercedes didn’t reply for a moment. Just like you were after what happened to mine?

“Eso no es justo, Antonia. Tú sabes perfectamente…” That's not fair, Antonia. You know perfectly...

“¿Y sabes qué? Creo que ni siquiera hubiera querido que estuvieras, sabiendo lo que tuviste que ver con eso.” And you know what? I don't think I even would've wanted you to be there knowing what you had to do with it.

“Él fue como un papá para mí también, Antonia.” He was like a father to me too, Antonia.

“¿Ah sí? ¿Pues qué crees? El no era como un papá para mí, Mercedes. Él era mi papá.” Oh yeah? Well, what do you think? He wasn't like a father to me, Mercedes. He was my father.

“Tengo parte de la culpa, Antonia. Yo lo sé. Pero era una niña, no supe medir las consecuencias de mis catos. Y mi tió Cruz también tomó una decisión esa noche.” Sadie replied, trying to remain calm, even though Namor could recognize the fear that tainted her voice. I'm partially to blame, Antonia. I know. But I was a child, and I didn't measure the consequences of my actions. And my uncle Cruz also made a decision that night.

“¿Y por qué estaba ahí, Mercedes? ¿Quién lo hizo poner su vida en riesgo tantas veces?” Antonia argued back, “Pero supongo que para él eso era más emocionante que ir a cualquiera de los eventos que eran importantes para mí, aunque no implicaran balas volando sobre su cabeza,” And why was he even there, Mercedes? Who made him put his life at risk so many times? But I guess that, to him, that was more important than attending any of the events that were important to me, even if they didn't involve bullets flying above his head.

“Él te amaba, Antonia. Su hija eras tú, no yo.” He loved you, Antonia. You were his daughter, not me.

“Bueno, tal vez debiste pensar en eso antes de arrastrarlo a tus asuntos,” The other girl practically spat out before turning her back on Mercedes, who tried calling her name one last time just to be ignored. Well, maybe you should've thought about that before dragging him into your issues

Feeling guilty enough as it was for having eavesdropped on something like that, Namor slowly walked backwards to stealthily leave without being discovered. However, he heard a pair of footsteps rushing in his direction. He froze in place, knowing that if those steps belonged to Mercedes, he’d be discovered anyways. And he was right. She turned around the corner, tears dwelling in her eyes, without so much as angrily looking in his direction.

“Hope you enjoyed the show,” she hastily muttered as she walked past him, her voice trembling with emotion.  

After receiving that glare, he knew better than to follow her, even if it was to explain himself. Honestly, he was relieved to be able to just retreat into the house and not interact with one more single soul for the remainder of the day. Thoughts surged through his mind so fastly he thought his head would explode, so he locked himself in Mercedes’ childhood bedroom and sat on the bed with a sigh. It wasn’t until then that he realized how little he actually knew about Xmeech’s life before meeting him, and he realized that up until two months ago, neither of them knew of the other’s existence. Two months seemed to be such a short time for the number of things they’d seemed to experience together. Two months that could come to an end that night.

Namor’s insides cringed when he remembered their unfinished conversation. She seemed determined to stay, and no matter how much he refused to acknowledge it, he was running out of reasons to keep her in Talokan. He could no longer justify it as a means to protect her, and by then they knew just as much about the threat that had briefly loomed over both worlds. Hell, even if for some reason what was left of Wexler’s men reappeared, Wakanda would be a much adequate ally to turn to. Not her.

Even the last reason, his last resort, wasn’t as foolproof as he’d once thought. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell her. It could very well be the reason for another argument. But even then, there was a way for her to stay on the surface.

Why did he keep insisting on taking her back with such…intensity? Why was he unable to simply picture a scenario in which he returned to Talokan alone that night?

Why did it hurt so much to picture himself going back to his life before she arrived?

He would miss her. Constantly bickering because it would be easier to make a shark eat fruit than make her yield, answering a million questions every time they visited Talokan together. He hadn’t even had the chance to show her the inside of the city, and perhaps he never would. From the minute he saw her eyes light up when she saw Talokan from the submarine orchard/cabins he’d started thinking of ways of bringing her down there without that horrible, bulky suit that didn’t even let her turn her head.

It was amidst these thoughts that he realized it was getting dark. There were about two hours of sunlight left and she had given no signs of life. Namor sighed and, with a despondent grunt, peeled himself off the cozy covers of Mercedes’ bed and threw on the unbearably scratchy shirt he’d been given before leaving the house without having the slightest idea of where to look first.

Music filled the air, getting louder the closer he got to the main square, along with laughter and gleeful screams. When he finally arrived, he could barely recognize the space. Colorful garlands hung from the buildings, several food stands lined the square, filling it with unknown but pleasant smells, and the thousands of colors coming from stands with diverse fair games seemed to bounce off the white arch he’d helped place earlier. However beautiful it was, it all seemed a little overwhelming to him, especially knowing he’d have to locate Mercedes amongst hundreds of strangers.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced his ears. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Well, that was much easier than he thought.

He pushed his way through the crowd until he found himself being pushed against a flimsy wooden fence that enclosed a pen. The people around him cheered and loudly exchanged bets, yelling amounts of time ranging from one to three minutes. The poor Talokanil man felt his heart stop for a moment when he realized what they were betting on.

Before him, a young bull that even at six hundred pounds was still a bull jumped and recoiled in enraged convulsions. On top of him, with nothing but a rope to keep her in place, Mercedes looked as delighted as if she was riding the plastic horse in the merry-go-round. While she was holding on for dear life, she didn’t even have her eyes open and swayed dangerously from one side to the other, always looking as if she was on the verge of falling. Still, she actually managed to stay on for two more minutes, to the disappointment of half of the crowd and others’ elation. It wasn’t until she heard somebody calling her name that she opened her eyes, looking for that one voice in the crowd. When she finally spotted Namor, Sadie’s right hand let go of the rope to wave at him, but this small mistake was enough for the angry beast to feel the shift in the weight and stop dead in his tracks so suddenly that the girl was projected forwards, stayed in the air for two entire seconds and fortunately fell on top of a pile of hay against the corner of the pen. Almost instantaneously, Namor rushed to her aid, and seeing that she was being tended to, the crowd lost interest and turned to see the new rider.

Calling her name a few times urgently to no avail, Namor slid his arm behind her back to make her sit up. Before he could even begin to wonder how could she do something so stupid, the unmistakable smell of alcohol reached his nose. He cursed under his breath and, seeing she was still unresponsive, carefully slid his other arm behind her knees and picked her up, making sure her head was held up against his shoulder. He hoped her aunt would be home, but he knew it was unlikely since nearly everybody seemed to be back at the fair having the time of their lives. His suspicions were confirmed when he stepped inside to find the house as dark and empty as he’d left it.

Namor gently laid Mercedes down on the couch and, missing the medically advanced Talokan more than ever, fetched a damp cloth from the kitchen, which he used to clean the bleeding cuts on her forehead, lip, and nose.

When he placed it on her swollen lip, she made a weak hissing noise and muttered something along the lines of “ow, fuck,” as her eyes fluttered open, still with a lethargic look on them. He noticed she was watching him at all times, but remained silent. The moment he removed the cloth from her mouth to focus on her forehead, Mercedes instinctively pressed her lips together, forgetting her injury and groaning in pain, attempting to lift her hand up to her lips just for a very exasperated Namor to gently yet firmly push it back down without saying a single word. Even in her drunken stupor that simple action made something stir inside of her.

“Thank you,” She muttered, her voice raspy from all the screaming earlier. He just nodded, still silent.

“Where do you keep your medicine?” he dryly asked, standing up. She gestured towards a cabinet, from which he grabbed a small bottle of alcohol and poured some on the cloth, pressing it against her wound without as much as a warning.

“You are tough enough to do something like that, so don’t start complaining now,” He said when she let out a loud yelp. She looked at him angrily, her pride hurting more than the injury.

“Why are you so fucking pissed?” Mercedes roared when he repeated the action against her nose, receiving nothing but the same tense silence from him. With a sigh, she continued speaking.

“Listen, if you’re worried that we won’t get to Talokan on time, let me tell you…”

“Shut up,” He snapped at her, his face unreadable as he continued his task. Feeling there was nothing she could say to improve her situation, she remained silent, sure that he wouldn’t add anything else.

“I knew you were stupid,” He growled, “just not this kind of stupid,”

“I’m fine,” She argued, sitting up a little to try and prove her point, trying to look unfazed despite the sharp pain that cursed through her limbs, “It wasn’t that bad,”

“And then what? You keep going until it is that bad? Is that what you want to stay here for?”

“Are you seriously doing all of this because of a stupid bull..?”

“It is not about the bull, Mercedes,” He interrupted her, nearly throwing the cloth against the coffee table, “It’s everything.”

She looked at him, knowing damn well she was too tipsy to be having this conversation, but being aware and terrified of the point she knew he was getting to.

“All this time, I thought you were just reckless. That you overestimated your own abilities and launched yourself into situations you know you can’t win because you think so highly of yourself that you can’t see it.”

Namor shook his head and let out one of those ironic, breathy laughs she despised. Then, he once again turned to face her and shook his head again.

“The worst part is that you can see it, you just don’t care,”

Mercedes immediately opened her mouth to argue back, or at least tell him to shut up, but he was faster.

“You attempted an extremely risky escape, stayed aboard a ship full of armed men that you knew was going down anyways, accepted to undergo an extremely harsh training regime while recovering from an injury that had you unconscious for one week…”

“It’s what I do,” Mercedes interrupted him, “My line of work is dangerous, I have to suck it up, that’s the way things are,”

“I am very well aware of what your job is,” Namor continued, “You go all over the world just to see more, and more suffering because you think that the people who can do something about it will, by some miracle, have a change of heart and stop. How is that working for you? Has it actually done something in all these years? Are you happier now than before you started doing it, or is it slowly sucking the life out of you?”

“It’s necessary,” She croaked out, “I have to do it,”

“Is it?” He asked, kneeling beside the sofa and looking at her, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you wouldn’t be relieved if somebody told you right now that you don’t have to do it anymore, that somebody else will take over and it won’t make a difference,”

She tried to swallow, but the tight knot in her throat made it impossible for her to do so. Sadie threw an incensed glare at him to try and downplay the fact that large tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

“It’s even spread beyond your work,” He whispered, not moving one inch away from her, “Why do you keep trying to gain the love and forgiveness of someone who will just talk to you like that before rejecting you once ag…?”

“No,” She said cutting him off, pushing her body forwards and pointing her finger at him threateningly, “Now you shut up, and don’t you dare speak about something you don’t understand,”

“Then please help me understand, Xmeech,” He urged her, his eyes softening for a millisecond.

“Why should I tell you about it?” She stubbornly protested, doing something Namor couldn’t remember seeing her do once. She lowered her glance.

“Because we are close,” He conceded after much hesitation, “I care about you. I do. It…pains me to see you hurting this much, and I can’t even tolerate the thought of you thinking you deserve it. I don’t care if you don’t think you deserve happiness because even if you didn’t, I would want you to have it.”

God, she hated it. She hated the way he could bluntly say things exactly as they were to her face, make her feel so terribly conscious of her feelings, she hated how clearly he could put her thoughts into words and then say something that made the truth sound so…bearable. And it was about to get even worse.

“There’s so much I don’t know about you yet, Xmeech. But it’s what I do know what makes me want to learn everything there was, so I can understand everything that is, and hopefully be a part of what will be.”

Everything that will be. That sudden confrontation with the unavoidable arrival of the future took her by surprise. Up until that morning, she was ready for her experiences in Talokan to remain a valuable treasure of her past and this small town to be her future, but she’d never wondered what they could look like if she looked at it the other way around. Was this overwhelming, frightening, and illogically soothing warmth in her chest a sign that what she saw around her could be a beautiful memory, instead?

She hoped it could be half as beautiful as the eyes that kept staring at her just inches away from her face. Mercedes wanted to get closer so badly that it made her want to run away until she was miles away from him and everything he embodied right then. But for now, she couldn’t run a few meters even if she wanted to. Instead, she just leaned back on the couch, putting some distance between them and letting out a sigh that seemed to contain her entire soul.

“Do you remember Cruz?”

The Translations/Notes

Papalote: Kite.

"Pueblo chico, infierno grande," : Mexican proverb. Its literal translation is "small town, large hell," meaning that living in a small town can have more downsides than one might think.

Taglist:

@evita-shelby and btw congratulations on reaching 666 followers!!! 🎉🎉🎉

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K'uk'ulkan/Namor masterlist

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Prove it (female!reader x namor)

Prove it (english dialogue)

Prove it part ii