#Namor fanfic

[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt 1

Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, blood, brief mentions of violence and alcohol

Summary: Upon discovering the unconscious body of a woman floating in the water, you rush to provide aid. Little do you know her people are searching for her, bringing a mysterious man to your door.

A/N: Still very new to writing fanfic (this is literally post number two), but couldn’t get this drabble out of my brain for a week so here it is. Please be kind! 

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

It’s close to dusk when you make your way from town back to your home on the secluded shoreline. With food and supplies in a bag slung over your shoulder, it will be another two or three days before you head back to restock. Although a fair distance, you have come to cherish the 5-mile trek into town. Walking along less traveled paths, visiting with the locals, and admiring the breathtaking nature around you have become some of your favorite things about living on the island. 

As the sun steals its last glimpse over the horizon, the vibrant orange and purple hues stretching across the sky begin to dim. The outline of a small bungalow comes into view about a hundred meters down the way. The warm glow of lanterns you hung before you left shines from the front porch, welcoming your return. 

You stumbled across this place two years ago, abandoned and needing major repair. Maybe it was just your nature to see the beauty and potential in broken things, but as soon as you laid eyes on the residence, your heart was set on it. Wrapped around the front is a porch with stairs that lead down onto a stone path, eventually making its way to the sand. Through the front door, an open entryway and a small kitchen are situated to the left accompanied by a simple sitting area. To the right is a doorway that leads to your bedroom and bathroom. It's a humble home, but you've worked hard to make it comfortable.

As you walk the familiar pathway toward the bungalow, you look out at the ocean. You watch as the water dances its way up the beach with every push and pull of the tide, waves gently lapping their way up onto the sand to make a melodic rhythm. You breathe in the salty air and revel in the beauty the island so generously offers. 

The moment of serenity is interrupted when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something just past the wave breaks. You squint as you try to focus your gaze to ensure the evening shadows aren't playing tricks on you. A shiver shoots down your spine. 

There's something floating in the water. Only, it's not something. It's someone.

"Oh my god," you say in disbelief, your eyes widening as you feel the air rush from your lungs. 

You react on pure instinct, immediately dropping your bag to the ground and sprinting into the water. Taking a deep breath, you plunge straight into the waves, pumping your arms and kicking your legs until they burn. You swim as hard as you can toward the body as it floats face down. 

When you reach it, you fear the worst. Quickly you turn it over to check for a pulse and discover it is a woman. Her frame is small, but she's solid and muscular. Body adorned with beautiful gold and jade trinkets, she appears to be wearing some sort of woven armor. You also notice her raven-black hair tied in a knot on top of her head, and a mesh-like apparatus covering her nose and mouth.

You carefully cradle the woman's head, lifting it out of the water.

"What the hell??" You mutter in shock. 

Right before your eyes, part of the woman’s face that is now exposed to the air turns a pale pigment of blue. She seems human enough, yet the way the blueness of her skin contrasts with its golden tones underneath the ocean surface makes you question what she might be instead.

All thoughts are pushed aside, however, the moment your attention is drawn to the sight of blood. Two gouges, a laceration across her shoulder, and a wound to her abdomen are seeping red into the salt water. She’s in poor condition and time is not on your side.

Doing your best to grapple her body, you kick your feet and pull the woman back to shore. The tide's added assistance gives you both the momentum needed to propel you toward the beach. As soon as you are able to stand, you turn and haul her body the rest of the way out of the ocean. 

Gently you lay her on a patch of dry sand as you take a moment to catch your breath. Your chest repeatedly rises and falls, your lungs straining for more oxygen. Staring at her now, you feel your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as the rest of her body turns the same shade of blue as her face. You shake your head as you fight back both your fear and curiosity. Whatever the woman's origins, tending to her wounds is your main priority. Help her now, and ask questions later.

Still unconscious, you reach up to remove the apparatus over her face, preparing to administer CPR. Suddenly, her arm shoots out and grasps your wrist, scaring the shit out of you. With unbelievable strength, she restrains any movement your hand could possibly make. Her eyes are wide and intense, pupils dilated.

"Okay, okay, I won't mess with it!" You promise. Her grip slackens as her eyes roll to the back of her head, losing consciousness again.

You rub your wrist, the bruise already forming. Deciding it would be best to move her from behind, you link yourself under her arms and pull her towards your home, unwittingly leaving a trail of sand and blood behind you. 

Making it to the bungalow, you manage to get the woman inside and onto your kitchen table. She's breathing, but it's shallow. Quickly, you grab all the first aid and sewing supplies you can scrounge out of the cabinets. You swipe a bottle of tequila from the shelf above the sink for good measure. Then you get to work to patch her up the best you can.

You clean the wound on her abdomen first, as that's where the bleeding is most prominent. Disinfecting it, applying pressure, then sewing it up, you focus meticulously on the needle in your hand, threading it back and forth through her skin. Once you finish, you fashion a bandage to soak up the excess blood.

The sky is dark as you move on to her shoulder to do the same. It feels like hours have gone by as you continue dressing the woman's wounds. It’s well into the night now, and the only light reflecting off the ocean for miles is from the moon and the lanterns of your home.

That's when he finds you.

A dark figure emerges from the water. He surveys the scene in front of him, eyes filling with rage as his focus dials in on the bloody trail leading up to your door. Spear in hand and body seething with anger, he marches towards your little house. 

Just as you clip the thread used to sew up the woman's shoulder and begin to apply another bandage, you're startled by a deafening CRASH!

Behind you, your front door gets obliterated. Through it, storms a man who quickly steps over the wooden debris that now litters the floor. His presence swallows the room as water drips off of his body. His eyes lock on to yours. 

"Holy shit!" You exclaim in terror. Before you know what is happening, he has made his way over to you, aggressively backing you up against the kitchen cabinets. 

Face-to-face with you now, he holds the tip of his spear to your throat, grazing your skin with it threateningly. He leans in so close you smell the salty ocean spray that covers his dark skin and can practically see your reflection in the cold piece of jade pierced through his septum. His breath is steady, but his glare is wild and ferocious. You raise your hands, attempting to show you mean no harm, only you don't account for the fact that your arms are covered in the woman's blood. His look becomes more menacing. 

"What have you done?" He growls, his voice low and dangerous. A fire is burning in his eyes as they widen with rage. 

"I'm helping her! I'm helping her!" is all you manage to say as you plead your case to the mysterious, hostile stranger. 

His stare remains intense as you feel the growing pressure of the cold metal spear against your throat. Everything inside you is screaming, telling you to close your eyes and that one way or another it will all be over soon. But you don't - you hold your ground and hold his gaze, searching his face for any shred of hope that he will spare your life.

The man's eyes flick over to the woman on the table, taking in more of the scene. As his head turns, you notice his pointed ears and beautifully hand-carved gauges made of jade. He turns his head slowly back to you, looking at you this time as if deliberating in his mind whether or not you are telling the truth. 

Again he leans in close, and you hold your breath as you await his final verdict. 

"You will speak of this to no one." It's not a question. It's a command.

You nod, willing to agree to anything at this point if it means not having your jugular sliced open.

"You will forget this night, and what you have seen."

Again you nod.

He keeps the spear pointed at your throat while carefully backing away toward the table. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as adrenaline pumps through your veins. You don't dare move a muscle.

The man retreats, withdrawing his spear and scooping up the woman who looks so petite in his arms. He carries her through the doorway but stops to look back at you. He says nothing, but his eyes are deadlocked on yours. You can’t describe or decipher the electric sensation that runs through your body at that moment, so you chalk it up to being in shock. 

Finally, he turns to leave, seemingly floating down to the shoreline with the woman securely in his arms. You watch as they disappear into the ocean and the night. 

Left alone, surrounded only by silence, the stinging memory of a blade against your neck, and a buzzing in your chest, you look around the empty kitchen. Blood and first aid supplies cover your table; debris that was once your front door now lays scattered across the floor, a draft gliding its way through your home. 

Your mind is still processing everything that has happened. Physically and emotionally, you are exhausted. 

"Screw it," you say out loud, grabbing the tequila still on the table and taking a swig straight from the bottle. "I'm going to bed."

--

You wake up the next morning as the sun is starting to rise and feel just as exhausted as when you had fallen asleep. Your mind is hazy. Your body is sore. You get up and pull on a fresh shirt and some shorts before making your way out of your bedroom. Groggily you shuffle through the entryway and into the kitchen to greet last night's mess. 

Only a few steps into the kitchen, however, you stop. Blinking a few times, you rub your eyes. On the table, where bloodied gauze, cloths, sewing needles, and the works had been scattered, now sits your bag next to a neat pile of the food and supplies you had gathered from yesterday's trip into town. You look down at your feet to discover a clean, debris-less floor. Moving in reverse, you pace a few steps back into the entryway and turn your head. Stunned, you see a new, beautifully carved wooden door in place of where your old one had been kicked down the night before.

You pinch your temples as you try to convince yourself you're not losing your mind. You move closer to inspect the door. Eyes full of wonder and amazement, you run your fingers down its wooden grooves. The surface is smooth as stone, yet the grain in it gives the material a richness that makes your jaw drop as you admire it. 

Before you can even ask yourself how it was possible, you open the door and your breath catches in your throat. The man from last night is sitting there on your front porch, legs hanging off the edge of it, looking out at the softly illuminated horizon. 

"I apologize about the door." He says, still facing the ocean. 

Fear takes over as you find yourself frozen in his presence. He senses your uneasiness and, still seated on the edge of the porch, turns toward you. He raises one hand to the air as a sign of his peaceful intention.

"I promise I am not here to bring harm to you... or your home," he adds, his eyes trailing toward the doorway. You say nothing, equally stunned and confused by his being there. 

"I am sorry for threatening you," he says, his voice turning somber. "I didn't know what you were doing to her."

"Is she okay?" You ask, finally finding your voice. "Your wife?"

He lets out a sharp chuckle. 

"Namora isn't my wife, she's one of my generals -- my best, in fact. And yes, she is okay, thanks to you."

A general. You avert your gaze, feeling foolish for assuming incorrectly. Suddenly the events of last night take on a different tone than what you had perceived.

"We had been searching for her for two days." The man continues to explain, "When I finally traced her whereabouts here and found her with you, I assumed the worst." He looks back out toward the ocean. "History has not typically been kind to my people in these types of situations."

You feel your chest tighten as the weight of his words sinks in. Your eyes wander from the ground up to the stranger. You watch as beads of salt water forge paths on his skin, rolling from his dark slick hair down the toned muscles of his back. 

"Who... are your people, exactly? Who are you?" You find the courage to ask.

He turns back to look at you, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he considers his answers.

"There are some who know me as K’uk’ulkan." He says thoughtfully. "But most know me as Namor." Pushing himself up to a stand, he continues, "As for my people, that is a discussion for another time." 

Namor walks up to you, and once again you find yourself face-to-face with him. Only this time his presence is not menacing, it's hypnotizing. 

"Thank you," he says softly, "for what you did. It will not be forgotten." 

There's a rich sincerity in his voice. Mesmerized by it, all you can muster in response is a nod of your head. A slight smile pulls at the corners of Namor's mouth as he closely studies your face. The light of the morning sun reflects in his eyes, and where you had only seen brooding darkness before, you now see shimmering flecks of gold. Everything about him is beautiful. 

"You are not what I expected." He says warmly, leaning in closer as if the two of you are sharing a secret. He lingers there a moment longer. Then, all too soon, he nods and turns to head down the stairs of your front porch. As he reaches the end of the stone walkway, he stops before stepping out onto the sand. 

"Remember," he says, repeating his instructions from your encounter last night, only gentler. "Speak of this to no one."  

"Will you be back?" You ask earnestly. You don't know what prompts your question, other than the thought of his departure suddenly pulling at your soul in a way you can't explain.

He turns back to look at you and smiles. You return it with a smile of your own. No words are needed for you to know that somehow, someday, you would see him again.

You watch from the porch as Namor strides out into the water and disappears below the surface. The sun glimmers brilliantly across the waves as they engulf him in their deep abyss. 

[inklore]

listen as a namor whore (namwhore?) i think that he loves marking you as his like man would go nuts with the hickeys and bruises (and bite marks too). on the off chance he lets you return the favor he’s surprised by how much he loves seeing the love bites and bruises on his own godly self >:)

pairing: namor x princess!reader

word count: 962

warnings: eighteen+ content, mentions of p in v but not shown, teasing, bites and marking, established forbidden relationship.

note: ok see i love this concept, this take, this thot!! but i fear he’s not completely into you returning the favor because for him it’d be more of a ‘i want everyone to see and be reminded who you worship to’. and i think he likes to stay looking proper to his people, but he does let you get away with bites left under the shorts!!

You were supposed to have left your room and met your mother and the council minutes ago—almost an hour ago you now see as the clock on your bedside reflects back to you in the mirror you’re standing at. Trying to right yourself back into looking presentable, kept, like you’re not running late because the man at the foot of your bed used his sweet siren song of pretty compliments, and words that had you out of your dress just as fast as his fingers had torn at the undergarments underneath it.

Leaving your balcony door open for him was seeming more and more like a curse than a blessing.

Letting him come and go as he pleased, when he cared to visit you after days of being MIA. Sometimes only noting his presence with a saltwater covered gift he’d leave at your doorway, when you’d stayed up as long as your body would allow to. As you waited to see if he would come to you; or when duties like council meetings and required dinners were demanded of you—events a Princess was supposedly meant to attend.

You’re surprised your mother hasn’t sent someone to fetch you. You expect it anytime now, ever the punctual woman your mother was. Being tardy was surely going to get you a stern look and deep questioning.

“Jats'uts,” he mumbles against your shoulder.

Beautiful.

Pretty.

Your heart soars, fingers only wavering a little as you do your best to right the necklaces adorning your neck. Your body having just been molded pudy in his hands mere seconds ago. Your thighs still sticky from having his mouth and cock between them. Your legs still feel that heady wobble from post orgasm. Your mind and body still coming off of that beautiful precipice of want and desire, of falling against his body like you couldn’t stand up straight, or function properly, without him being there to sink into—or onto on most nights.

You had told him how urgent it was that you make it to this meeting. How he needed to turn around and make his way back to his beloved ocean before someone saw him, and your mother had both of you locked away.

A threat he laughed at. A threat you knew meant nothing to someone as powerful as him; a God.

“If this were Talokan I’d make our people come to you. You’d never have to lift a finger, princess.”

Our people.

As if there were some alternate reality in which that could come to formation. Where the two of you would rule as equals and not something forbidden, and secretive.

There had been too much death and destruction on both sides, from both of your people, for either groups to be happy to be ruled by the both of you.

But the fantasy was nice to dream about—get lost in the idea of actually being able to flaunt your love instead of hiding it.

When his arm wraps around your waist your body works on instinct, on knowing the hands and warmth of the man that’s touching it. Guiding it into his chest to lean and rest against. His lips brushing at the side of your neck, mustache burning your skin.

“Or you could stay naked, spread out for me. Waiting for my return while I handled everything.”

“Mm.” You let your eyes close as you grin, “no responsibilities other than pleasing my king.”

“Precisely.” His teeth take a hold of your sensitive skin, his tongue following after the sting like a salve. Making your body tremble against him, a gasp falling from your lips. “You’d never want for anything. I would have it brought to you. Made for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to you, princess.” His mouth repeats it’s actions against your neck, his hand creeping lower to the start of your thigh.

That ache between your legs quickly making a home once more at your swollen clit.

“K’uk’ulkan,” his name falls from your lips, practiced, known, worshiped—as you moan softly. As you let him suck and bite at your skin, letting his words coax you into that fantasy world you want so badly.

You don’t come back to reality until you feel his fingers start to pull up the bottom of your dress, the cool air against your damp underwear bringing you back down from that building high.

“Nononono,” you pull away from him. Untangling his arms from your body and sending him a scowl at the way he’s smirking at you. “I’m already late because of you!”

“My apologies, princess.” His hand waves towards the door, “don’t keep your people waiting any longer.”

“I won’t! You-” your quick movements stop abruptly when you see it, when the deep hue catches your eye in the mirror. And maybe it’s half your own fault for not stopping him, for once again falling victim to the hot-tease of manipulation of his beautiful words.

There’s words of anger and disbelief in the back of your throat, ready to come up and spill over at the man whose eyes are locked onto yours in the mirror. Who is still wearing that signature cool as can be expression, that you really want to slap off of him.

Your mother was going to kill you.

String you up as a pariah!

“My mother–”

“Will not be pleased, no.” He finishes for you. Steps back into that space behind you, returning his heat to your back. His thumb runs along the bruised area, eyes gleaming at his creation before flashing back to yours. “But now everyone will know you belong to someone.”

You belong to me.

Unspoken in words but not in the way he presses a kiss to the love mark, lips soft and endearingly sensual.

[devilishcupid]

THE KING'S PROPOSAL | Namor

☆ premise: centuries since the calling off of your engagement, namor comes back and proposes once more.

☆ pairing: namor x fem!royal!reader

☆ warnings: romantic history between namor and reader, tension between namor and reader

☆ a/n: genuinely down bad for this man. i love him so much🤧

"Be my queen, and I will be your king."

The room was suddenly filled with the laughs of your advisers. Even you found it amusing. Who knew Namor, the Feathered Serpent God, would be in standing in the middle of your throne room right now, proposing an alliance between your kingdom and his through marriage?

After all, not only did your kingdom have a bloody history with Talokan—you and Namor had history yourselves. Centuries ago, you were old flames whose relationship's end nearly caused a civil war between your nations.

"If I may speak, my queen," one of your advisers appealed. Giving your nod of approval, she turned to the Talokanil King. "Attempts to form an alliance didn't work the first time. In fact, it only ended up dividing us further. Why should her majesty accept your proposal a second time?"

Your eyes narrowed at the steely glint in Namor's eyes. "Because if you don't, a time will come where your people will regret not having Talokan by its side."

The room became quiet as tension filled the air. Millions of thoughts ran through your head. What were his intentions? What did Talokan have that your people did not? Was there truth behind his words? Or was he merely bluffing?

Finally, you spoke. "Leave me with him."

Your advisers were about to protest, but your glare silenced them into submitting to your command. Namor's own advisers, Attuma and Namora, followed suit after a nod of approval from their king. With the last person closing the doors shut, it was only you and Namor in the throne room.

You descended from your throne, your footsteps echoing until you stood in front of your former flame. Looking up at him, you said, "This is the first time we've met since the unfortunate calling off of our engagement, and the first thing you do is threaten me under my own roof."

"Whether my words are a threat or an act of good faith will depend on whether or not you accept my proposal for marriage."

"What you just did was asking for my hand in marriage? You've gotten more romantic since we last met, Namor." You remarked, sarcasm dripping from your words.

A low chuckle left his lips in response. "And you're still the same as always, In yakunaj."

Your eye twitched at the term of endearment he used to reserve for you. "If you think you can charm me into marrying you, I assure you it won't work."

"It did the first time." He quipped, an eyebrow raised suggestively.

"Yet it ended disastrously, did it not?" You shot back, before returning back to your former demeanor. "What do you really want, Namor? We don't make contact for years and now you want me to marry you and unite our kingdoms. Why?"

"Talokan has shown itself to Wakanda," Namor revealed, as your eyes widened at the revelation, "and we have formed an alliance that will be of great help when war arrives."

"Strengthening your nation in preparation for battle. So that's why you've come." You concluded, sighing and shaking your head. "Did we not decide that the surface dwellers will end up killing each other anyway? That we will watch those fools burn without us having to light the fire?"

He scoffed at your words. "That would be true, if they hadn't gotten stronger. I wouldn't had revealed my people's existence to Wakanda if the surface world hadn't threatened Talokan's safety."

Namor leaned into you, one hand gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, while the other rested on your waist. "And I wouldn't be here if your safety hadn't been threatened as well."

You gulped, your chest heaving as you stared at him. The two of you were completely silent, save for the sounds of your breathing, neither of you breaking eye contact.

You caught yourself leaning closer to his face, and you immediately pulled away from his grasp. You turned your back to him, cheeks tinged red from how close you were to kissing him. Even after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.

"I won't accept your offer. Not now, at least." You said after composing yourself. You turned around to face him once more. "I'll consider your proposal, but I can't promise my nation's compliance."

"Then I'll leave you to deliberate, your majesty." Namor handed you a large shell, which you recognized as a Talokanil communication device. "Tell me of your decision as soon as you have made it."

You nodded, and Namor headed towards the exit. He stopped in his tracks when he reached the doors, making you raise an eyebrow. "What is it, Namor?"

"I was right. You haven't changed one bit."

"What made you reach that conclusion?"

"It's been years yet making you fall for me still is no hardship."

[namorslutfanfiction]

Namor finally gives in to the temptation of one of his talokanil maids.

Woot! Spicy.

Namor x Reader/OC

Summary: Namor had been lusting after you for awhile and one day he finally gives in to temptation. Little did he know you had been feeling the same way.

TW: NSFW SMUT

Namor knows exactly when the infatuation and attraction started. He had been feeling particularly frustrated and restless when he had stumbled upon you and the soldier boy around the palace. The hell fire he had reigned down on the boy when Namor saw him hit you would have petrified anyone. But you had thanked him and had asked for mercy on the boy. You had asked for the King of Talokan to spare the jealous boy who had hit you because you had out done him in training.

That had intrigued Namor to the point of distraction. You had been far more forgiving than anyone should be. Especially to a soldier who should have had more honor. But now Namor sought you out, asked for you to serve him personally rather than the usual maids. He had known of you previously as one of the few who tended the grounds and outskirts of Talokan. But now he wanted you close.

His fascination turned to infatuation. He had gone out of his way to talk to you any time you brought him food or any other essential he requested. He had learned about you and your family. He knew your favorite color and fruit. He saw how the maids respected you and the soldiers showed you courtesy. Namor was even jealous to see you being kind to the soldier boy who hit you.

After coming back to Talokan from a visit to Wakanda, Namor was particularly riled up. The endless teasing of the Ape Man M'baku at the counsel meeting had sharpened Namor's wits to their end. When you came to bring him his nightly necessities, Namor stopped you.

"Wait," the command rang through the room despite the water. You stopped and turned, hoping the king couldn't hear how loud your heart was beating. You had been hiding it for months, how the proximity to your king made your adrenaline run wild and your mouth run dry. You had done your best not to stare at his hands or his bare legs, or his shapely chest. You had tried desperately not to hope that he thought of you each night the way you thought of him; with your hand between your legs and the other muffling your moans.

"Yes, my liege," You replied hesitantly, bowing before your king.

Namor looked at you, bent at the hips towards him. You felt him lay his palm on your head, keeping you slightly bent as he circled you. He was standing behind you now and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He paused for a moment then pushed his waist against your round ass. You gasped at the feel of him pressed against you.

You stood up straight and Namor's hand came around to gently circle your neck as he pulled you flush against his bare chest. He nuzzled into your hair then used his other hand to pull your braid out of his way so he could smell your neck.

"K'uk'ulkan? Are you alright?" You did your best not to stutter or give in to the overwhelming need to move your ass against him.

"I have been tormented tonight. Not only by that ape M'baku, but by you. I cannot think of anything without thinking of you. I could not spend a day in Wakanda without thinking about what you would think of that grand place. I could not eat at that feast without picturing you eating beside me. He mocked me for not having a queen, but he does not know that I want a queen. That I want a queen that I can give everything to every day and every night." Namor murmured in a low hungry town as he held you against him.

"My King," you gasped as he pulled your hips back against his. His arousal was evident as you felt your own pool between your legs.

"Will you let me give you everything? Will you let me make you my queen? Do you even want that?" Namor's confidence waned as you left his questions unanswered. His grip on you loosened and you felt him lower his head.

"Yes. Please. You don't know how long I've wanted that. But you are my king," You finally stuttered out. You gripped his arm that was at your chest. "I am no one."

Namor let out a growl as he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall, "You, from this moment, are my queen!"

You looked up into his fiery eyes, filled with passion for you. He held your face in his hands, his body flush against you, "K'uk'ulkan, I want you. I have for so long."

That was all the answer Namor needed. He let out a rough moan as he kissed you deeply and passionately. His lips were soft and firm against your own. His hands found yours, intertwining your fingers as he raised them above your head. He pinned you to the wall with one hand while his other pulled down the strap of your dress exposing your shoulder. He leaned down and laved and sucked at your neck and shoulder.

You let out a breathy moan just as Namor nipped at your pulse point. He met your gaze again before capturing your lips in another searing kiss. He let your arms fall and gripped your waist. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders while your legs had quickly turned into jelly.

He hitched up your skirt and found your underwear that he pushed roughly to the side. He moaned into your lips as his fingers found your wet cunt. You mewled as he quickly found your clit and circled it with his finger, making you arch into him. He teased your clit slowly and firmly as he pulled your dress down your shoulders to expose your breasts.

Namor's skilled hand worked your wet cunt. Just as he slid a finger into your wet heat he took one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. You keened against him, overwhelmed by the sensations. You gripped his shoulders and cradled his head against your chest as you rocked into his hand.

"Not yet," he whispered against your skin as he pulled his hand away from between your legs. Before you could protest the loss of sensation, Namor brought his hand to your lips. You looked him in the eye as you slowly took the finger that had just been in your pussy, into your mouth. You licked it clean and sucked it hard before letting it go with a pop. Namor's eyes grew impossibly dark with lust.

He tilted your jaw and kissed you again as he pushed his leg between yours and grinded his thigh against your weeping wet core. Words escaped you, all thought emptied from your mind as you rode out your orgasm on his thigh. It came so suddenly that your knees buckled, but Namor kept you pinned against the wall.

"Beautiful, you're so beautiful when you cum," Namor whispered in adoration. He leaned you up against the wall before he fell to his knees before you. With gentle instructions he had you hold your skirts up around your waist while he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. Your glistening cunt was easily accessible to the king's eager mouth.

You looked down into his eyes as he tasted you with the tip of his tongue. Your breath quickly left you as he devoured you and drank every drop of arousal that leaked out of you. He flattened his tongue against your nether lips and explored every fold of skin before finding the bundle of nerves at the apex of your pussy. Namor locked eyes with you before suckling at your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head as your senses were hit with a tidal wave of pleasure.

As your body reacted and began rocking against his face, Namor slid two fingers inside of you. Your hand found his hair and grasped it as you rode his face and hand. Namor moaned against your mound as rolled your hips and clenched your pussy. He was thrusting his fingers in a slow, methodically manner, slightly curling his fingers in a way that was pulling a scream from your lips.

"Yes, my queen, cum for me sweet woman," Namor commanded from his place on his knees. You immediately came undone at the sight of him below you, latching his lips onto your clit as he fucked you with his fingers.

Your legs finally gave out and Namor caught you with such fluidity you didn't realize you had fallen. He removed the dress that was barely covering you, then carried you to his bed. He lay your boneless form onto the bed and began to unbraid your hair. Once done, he propped you up for a moment so that he could take his seat behind you, with your back to his front. You could feel his hard erection pressing into your back and could feel your energy slowly fighting to return.

Namor held you to him. He brushed your hair to sit over one shoulder so he could more easily kiss your neck and earlobe. You were so sensitive still that little whimpers escaped your lips unbidden. His left hand found your breasts, cupping and teasing the nipples. His right hand spread your legs as wide as they would go with his own legs bracketing them. The King captured your lips in another kiss as his fingers found your clit and began drawing lazy circles around it.

"My king," You moaned into his lips, "I want to feel you inside me."

The boldness of the statement made Namor growl. He gripped your hair roughly as he deepened the kiss. When he pulled his lips away you took initiative. You took his fingers from your pussy and brought them to your mouth, sucking on them seductively. You took the opportunity, as he stared transfixed on your lips around his fingers, to turn around. You continued to suck and lick his fingers while your hands found those enticing green shorts and slid them off his body.

Your hands circled his girthy cock and mimicked the movement of your mouth on his fingers. A bead of precum dripping from his tip was used to slicken his shaft. Not able to take it much longer, Namor pulled his fingers from your mouth, gripped your jaw and pulled you into another searing kiss.

You wasted no time in straddling the king's lap and rocking your wet cunt against his shaft, "Please, K'uk'ulkan, my king, take me. I am yours."

Namor gripped your hips and guided you onto his hard cock. Your slow descent as you took him in was excruciating but gratifying. Struggling not to lose control, Namor paused, leaning his forehead against yours as you settled into his lap, his cock fully seated inside your hot core.

"In reina, my queen, everything, you can have all of me," Namor mumbled nearly incoherent as he basked in the feel of being joined with you. No sleepless nights on his own and with his fantasies could have prepared him for this feeling of pleasure and contentment.

You started rocking your hips first, and Namor followed your rhythm. The room filled with the sounds of your love making. Neither of you could mask your shameless moans of pleasure. The feel of his thick cock pumping into you from below was so filling that you might weep. He fisted your hair and kissed you hard as he took control and snapped his hips into yours with vigor.

His thumb found your swollen clit as he pounded into your weeping pussy. The orgasm hit you like a train. You tossed your head back as you clenched down, stars showing in your vision. But Namor did not relent. He fucked you through this orgasm and into the next before changing positions.

He turned you around and pushed you so that your hips were up and your chest was against the bed. The king trailed kisses along your back as he wrapped your hair around one fist. With one hand in your hair and the other on your shoulder he thrust into you from behind. The new position seating his cock deeper inside of you. His thrust were measured and deep. His hand alternating between caresses of adoration and possession across every inch of skin he could reach as he thrust.

Your mind was blank except for the feel of him. Every part of you was consumed by pleasure. You could feel every inch of him thrusting into you, harder and faster. He pulled you up so that you were arched against him while he pounded into you. Namor slid his hand around your throat mimicking your position from earlier when this had all started.

His hips snapped and the sounds of your skin slapping together as he fucked your wet cunt were delightfully obscene. Namor gripped your neck with one hand while he controlled your hips with the other. His thrusts began to stutter. You hit one more peak just as he began his.

"Yes, my king, please," You joined his thrusts wanting every drop of his cum, wanting him to claim you fully. With the last few hard thrust and a growling moan, Namor came into you. You felt the wet heat invade you and begin to drip between your thighs.

Namor held your body against his, still joined, raining kisses on whatever skin he could reach. He was out of breath but had a cheeky smile playing across his face.

"My queen," he said turning you to face him. There was a genuine look of adoration in his eyes that were mirrored in your own.

"My king," You whispered before kissing him.

///

And that's it for now! This was filthy. you're welcome.

I'm going to bed. wooooo

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello there

I would like to request a namor x reader where she is youngest child of the wakandan royal family and they tend to look over her sometimes or A LOT so when attuma n namora ambush the crew on the bridge she volunteers herself to be taken to protect her sibling and Riri as well as come to a diplomatic solution.

When Nakia finally rescues her, namor vows to go retrieve her by any means necessary

Oooh,,, I like this idea!! 👀💞💓

Pairing: Namor x youngest royal!sibling

You knew the risks of taking this mission, but there was a determination to prove yourself. It seemed simple at first. Get the young scientist, keep her safe, and move on from there.

Despite the risk of encountering Namor on the shore and now escaping those hot on your trail, you couldn’t let that deter you or risk your mother’s nerves.

Seemed simple enough, right?

At least that’s what you thought at first. Lying face down on the asphalt was the irony of this whole situation. You had seen Okoye give it to her last in defending you and Shuri, but you had to think fast.

You could see your sister Shuri’s hand starting to gain movement, but you saw the two elite warriors with their band advancing towards Riri. It had to be quick and now, or else you would regret this.

Coming to a wobbly stance, you faced the ones called Attuma and Namora.

“I’ll go.” You offered to them. “I’ll go with you…,don’t hurt her.”

Both looked at each other inquisitively before the taller one summoned their steed and brought you and Riri forward. Hoping they wouldn’t notice, you left behind the bracelet as means to track you.

Before the darkness of the waters consumed the group, you whispered a small prayer to Bast but you didn’t know what for exactly. Strength? Clarity?

Anything seemed feasible at this point.

Back home, your Queen Mother’s grief knew no bounds. Still, it would not deter her from getting you, youngest of the family, back to safety.

In Talokan, the nerves of your entire being were sharper than any knife. Sure this king and leader of his people was charismatic, but you still couldn’t form an opinion about Namor. Especially when the young girl’s life depended on you.

“Why do you look at me like that?” He asked upon your quick introduction.

Poker face may not have been your strong suit but you mastered it on impulse.

“Like what?”

“As if you are afraid. I do not wish to harm you, but I have my loyalties to protect those who rely on me. By any means.”

You sighed heavily. “That’s what I’m afraid of. What if we came to an agreement? Me, in the place of the scientist. But please, let me see my family as well. I know they’ll be worried for me.”

His face seemed unreadable at first but underneath that facade was a growing curiosity. If this was under different circumstances, Namor would have wanted to get to know you. A bright mind with a promise that glimmered in your eyes. He admired your spirit. Maybe there could be a chance still…

In his invitation to explore Talokan, you were amazed. It was beautiful. Intricate architecture and a liveliness that reminded you of home. Such beauty

Namor watched your reaction with softness. Once this was all over, he’d give anything to see that smile of yours again. In gifting you the bracelet of his mother and a necklace personally crafted for you as well, Namor dared to have hope that there could be a future.

You thought the same too. It was a relief to see you and Riri’s savior in Nakia, but it felt sudden to be reunited with your family so swiftly. You were grateful to be back with your family, but it felt jarring to be taken back so soon.

Upon hearing of your rescue, Namor’s heart became caged by its walls again. It felt foolish and naive of him to even think that—

No matter. He would return to have you back again, or if you wised it, to come and go as you pleased. You let him think there could be a possibility for anything and the surface world’s forces would not take that away.

[jakecockley]

- el niño que creció sin amor -

✧ pairing: namor/k’uk’ulkan x gn!poc!reader

✧ summary: namor visits his mother's grave. in search of comfort, something he did not expect, he heads to you. only in your arms, does he let himself truly breathe.

✧ genre: fluff/soft comfort/bit of angst/sfw

✧ fyi: reader is of ambiguous race (can be defined however you want, but they are a person of color) and they're an artist! they also know yucatec mayan, a little fluent in it, thanks to namor

✧ warnings: a lil sad, other than that ur good

✧ author’s note: it’s kinda weird how I always do fluff, but I just love bringing out the soft side of characters like namor. I haven’t seen much fluff/comfort topic fics abt him. I don’t think I’ll be able to get over him soon ☠️ this obsession will last for monthsss. alsooo english isn't my first language so sorry if u see a few mistakes!

Who was he? 

Was he a man? A god? they wondered, for the first time when they laid eyes on him. 

No man looked the way he did. No ordinary man had those sharp ears that pointed up to the clouds nor those white wings on his ankles that made him fly to the skies themselves.

His visits to their pueblo were a rare occurrence. He never entirely spoke whenever he emerged from the waves in the night and shook the water from his wings. He kept to himself, making his way to his mother’s burial, pushing the large leaves from the trees out of his way. He’d stand there for a while, contemplate the past or murmur a few words in his native tongue. He’d come to let himself think, away from the waves, noise, and duty. He liked to remember all of what he liked to do with his mother: whenever they’d race or play with the sea life, amongst others. He’d remember when his mother would rise to the surface, only to look at the past life she left behind. Her land. Her home. It meant everything to her. So did it to Namor.

He was constantly worrying about his people, how the time they had was running out by the day, and what would happen once the surface world got its hands on what they wanted below. Namor could not allow his kingdom and its people to be discovered. Yet all those thoughts and worriments faded whenever he thought about you, a surface dweller. To his surprise, you were someone he’d come to care for. Maybe if he went to you, he'd feel peace.

With a simple brush to the dirt as a farewell, Namor took off, heading to your home.

- Your home was a simple one. It was a small house just near the coast, away from the city and its bustling noise. You liked the peace here, you didn’t have to worry about the big things anymore, and finally let yourself breathe. 

You loved it, even more, when your lover would arrive at your doorstep, just as he did right now.

Those wings of his always give it away, you thought with a chuckle. His wings sounded like a rattlesnake’s rattle, buzzing, when they flapped. It added to the intimidation he had and you found it fitting, as he was the feathered serpent god to his people. Setting your paintbrush aside, you sauntered over to the door, opening it and finding Namor looking not quite like himself. Before you could speak a word to him, he abruptly wrapped his arms around you, and buried his face between the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unwilling to meet your eyes. Without hesitation, you returned the affection, rubbing a hand on his back soothingly for comfort. 

The two of you walked to your bedroom, no words spoken, not until a minute passed with Namor in your arms, limbs entangled with one another.

Only then did you ask him.

“What’s wrong?” you murmured to him, playing with his dark hair as he laid his head against your chest. He felt warm against your body, surprising for a man always submerged in water. 

He’s silent for a moment. 

You looked at him, staring into those keen, dark eyes you've admired for so long. Your hand caressed the side of his face lovingly, the thumb brushing his cheek. 

You hummed, a small, sweet smile forming on your lips when you noticed Namor careening into your touch. Taking advantage of the comfort he was in, you slowly leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. 

Namor's breath softly hitched, eyes cast down, lashes barely grazing his skin. He felt your forehead touch his own when you scooched downward.

He hoped to the gods that you couldn't hear the way his heart thundered against his chest.

You weren’t the best comforter, but for him, you’d try. You whispered softly to him.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, in yakunaj.” 

His breathing stilled, like he was alarmed of something, but in a second it passed. His eyes looked up to your own.

He smelled like the ocean and its salt, a muskiness to him that you grew fond of whenever he came. Your man of the sea.

“I visited my mother’s burial place. I thought going to her would help me think,” he told you, gaze casting down, “ba'ale' ma' bin beya'.” 

The moonlight peeked through the slits of your curtain’s blinds, casting a soft white glow on the outline of his brown skin. 

He traced the curves of your body with his hand, going over the dip and rise of your waist and hip. You figured it was to distract himself a bit. 

You didn’t mind that at all. 

It was rare to see Namor like this. Quiet. It wasn’t like him, but you understood why.

Usually, he always had a snarky reply up his sleeve or a comment on whatever he could tease you on.

But tonight, this was different. Not the first time, but different.

“I worried more for my people. I don’t…” His words faded, but you finished them, knowing what he’d say.

“…want them harmed.”

Namor gave a small nod.

The ends of your lips stretched to express a sad smile.

He did not think he was enough to protect them.

You knew of his past.

How his mother died, outliving her, and he was the one his people were dependent on. He led them and grew their civilization over the many years.

His people were precious to him, everything to him. It was that trait of love that you adored, the fierce protectiveness and his willing to go beyond whatever means necessary to keep his people safe and out of harm’s way.

Knowing that the surface world could discover them ate at him.

You ran a finger across one of his pearl necklaces.

“Worrying is a normal thing, Namor. You are their king; they look up to you and they know you will protect them. You are K’uk’ulkan. A god to your people.”

There’s a long pause of silence afterwards, and you watched the tiny flicks of changes of expression on your lover’s face. You wait for him to say something or look at you, but nothing.

His tense body relaxes against yours.

“I know you will keep them safe; unharmed,” you added, grabbing his still hand that was at your waist. You planted a soft kiss on the back of it, then looked at him as you intertwined your fingers together.

“Níib óolal in yakunaj,” he murmured softly to you, but he knew you heard him.

You pressed your forehead against his once more.

“I love you,” you gently smiled.

-

They said he was a boy who grew without love.

But you were the person willing to give him the love he deserved.

✧ taglist: @slenderclaw @marc-spectorr @96jnie @taestrwbrry @caroldxnvxrs @namorsirens @smut4lifee @sunfairyy @layazul @duchcess @salimothmanlover @vampiredoll6-6-6 @aniia-x3 @eerievixen @deliciousfestsalad @astrospunutt @heart-an0n (didn’t let me tag all of u for some reason 😔)

✧ translations:

"in yakunaj" = "my love"

"ba'ale' ma' bin beya'" = "but it didn't"

"níib óolal in yakunaj" = "thank you, my love"

main masterlist

liked my work? check out the characters i currently write for and send in a request ! (anons welcome!)

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[loelysian]

marmoris

(n.) the shining surface of the ocean

pairing: namor × reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: what happens when nakia takes a straggling passenger from talokan on her mission to retrieve shuri and riri to bring them back to wakanda—that passenger being the queen of talokan.

note: since this one shot was written by me, a jewish arab person, it is hinted that y/n is also from those cultures but if you are not, that is fine. it is never explicitly stated and i don't plan on doing so in future chapters. feel free to apply your own experiences to the scenarios i've written about. please keep in mind that i am not fluent in yucatec so i've used a translator for any scenes in talokan. if you find i've upset you or there is an error in regard to lore (i tried my best to recreate certain scenes from the movie but i've only seen it once). please comment and let me know so i can fix it and apologize. i do not mean to offend anybody. i would also like to mention that this was posted yesterday but because i accidentally deleted my main blog, this is a repost—not stolen. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: some discussions of colonization—i brought my own struggles with displacement into y/n's relation to namor's history. there are some depictions of violence as well.

Namor had prisoners, that much you knew. He hadn’t been keen on telling you why, insisting he had it under control and that absolutely no harm would come to you or the people of Talokan. He’d given you his word as the King and as your husband. Namor the loveless child. That was what he’d dotted himself as but then he’d met you. You’d been given the opportunity of a lifetime to study sea life in San Diego, California and your apartment, which had been paid for by the school, overlooked the ocean. Even as a child, you’d always been drawn to the ocean. Despite living hours away, whenever your parents took you to the beach, it was like the waves had been calling you, a primitive urge to get closer, to let the water engulf you. Your parents had always joked about it, calling you a mermaid or siren and were convinced that one day you’d have fins instead of feet. They weren’t exactly far off.

The very first time you saw him, he had been undercover trying to collect information about a new oil-infused tank that was set to drop in the middle of the ocean, potentially displacing thousands of already endangered species’, the array of coral reefs that resided in the area and polluting the waters. You’d been at the meeting to argue against its installation and provide evidence you and your team had collected that supported your claim. He’d been there, standing in the corner of the room with his hands behind his back eyeing you curiously. You’d assumed he was some sort of marine biologist, the long, white lab coat he’d worn over his shoulders as good a sign as any but once you got a closer look, he was anything but. You could tell it was hard for him to mask the disgust he’d had for everyone that stood on the opposing side and found yourself silently sharing the same sentiment. It seemed as though they were only thinking of money and not the catastrophic side effects.

“All you care about is how much you’ll have in your pockets if this deal goes through,” you argued, slamming your hands on the table in front of you. You’d tried to maintain composure throughout the debate but the businessmen weren’t letting up and you couldn’t allow them to go through with this. Not when there was something you could do about it. Not when you were this close.

One of the men stood up and met your eyes, wearing a smirk that only seemed to anger you more.

“Finally, y/n speaks some sense!” he clasps his hands together as the men sitting behind him laugh into their hands. Your eyebrows furrow.

“I don’t care what it takes to put an end to this endangerment. Arrest me for all I care.” you barely registered the fact that your hands were shaking, the first sign of you losing your composure.

“That can be arranged.” the man in the middle said, both of his goons laughing impossibly harder.

Finally, the mysterious man who stood in the corner stepped toward the table with a neutral expression. You could tell he was hiding something right away. You’d always been good at reading people. You felt the urge to step back and let him handle this, but this was also something you were incredibly passionate about. This was why you were here. Straightening your shoulders, you stood up and eyed the men in front of you dangerously.

“If you go through with this, there is absolutely nothing stopping the stream of bad luck that will likely find its way to the three of you if this tank is to be installed. I may be forgiving, but the ocean is not.”

You had never seen businessmen keen on making money pack their things faster. It was almost as if they were in a trance. All you could do was watch on in awe as they quickly left, ushering their apologies to the mysterious man from the corner which was what you’d taken to calling him in your head.

Once the men were gone, you quietly let your peers know you wanted to speak to the man alone and they each nodded in understanding, slinging their backpacks over their shoulders as they exited the room as well. The man eyed you curiously, and suddenly, the fire you’d ignited during the argument had been extinguished leaving nothing but a shy college student who loved nothing more than the ocean.

“Thank you for taking care of that mysterious corner man.” you said. To your surprise, the man laughed. The sound was loud and sweet and your stomach felt funny, an unfamiliar sensation you’d only felt once before when you’d been at the beach and finally caught your first wave on the surfboard you’d crafted yourself.

“Namor.” was all he said, the smile never leaving his face.

“Huh?” it had taken you by surprise.

“Namor. My name. It is Namor.” he said once more. Somehow, the two of you had gotten closer to one another.

“Mine is y/n.” your eyes met his dark brown and he seemed to be captivated. Unable to look away from you.

“Your name .. it is lovely,” you barely registered the fact that your hands were still shaking at your sides from the debate, but he did. In fact, he silently searched your eyes for permission as he took one of them into his own big and strong and pressed your knuckles to his lips. You eyed him confusedly. Was this allowed?

He seemed to pick up on this.

“I wanted to thank you.” was all he said, hoping you’d get it.

“Whatever for?” was what came out instead. You weren’t sure what he was getting at.

“For defending the ocean. There are not many who do what you do anymore. They couldn’t be bothered.” Namor seemed hurt by this but there was a hint of fondness in his voice, probably hinted toward you.

“I’m just doing what any good person would.” and that was the truth. You couldn’t understand why the profession you’d wanted to be a part of was so small in size—why so many people lacked any sense of care or self awareness about the problems out in the ocean. At least Namor seemed to understand. It felt good knowing someone was on your side.

“You’d be surprised.” and wasn’t it funny that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet? It barely seemed to register to you as you were far too engulfed in the way he’d been staring at you. Like you meant something. Like your voice was heard.

After you’d both parted ways, you’d been left with nothing but his first name and the yearning sensation that you wanted more. It couldn’t have ended there yet you had been certain you’d never see Namor again. It caught you by surprise when you’d seen him at the beach during an afternoon stroll. He’d been standing by the shore, letting the surge of cold yet clear saltwater rush past his feet. He had his hands behind his back as he watched the sun set below the horizon. For a moment, all you could do was watch. Could it really be him? The same man who’d so bravely defended you and your cause? You were keen on finding out.

As you walked closer and closer, he finally spoke without turning around.

“Y/n. Our paths cross once again.” you silently wondered how he’d known you were there. To your knowledge, he hadn’t turned around.

“Namor,” you joined him at his side and instead of meeting his eyes, you kept your focus on the ocean, watching the mixture of oranges and pinks that reflected off the sea from the setting sun.

You weren’t sure what to say. Surely mentioning the fact that you’d been thinking about him since you’d last parted was weird. He spoke first, though.

“What is it you do for a living? Your passions and hobbies?” so he wanted to know more about you. You felt the same.

“I’ve always had a fascination with sea life which is why I’m here studying to become a marine biologist. I guess you could say I surf in my free time, but since school is so demanding, I spend most days learning more and bettering my arguments so I can stop crooks like the men you met from ruining our oceans and provide better ways for energy infrastructure instead of relying on oil.” you’d been rambling and suddenly felt embarrassed, searching Namor’s eyes for any hint of annoyance or confusion but all that was there was the same look of fondness he’d had back when you’d very first met.

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke after the moment of silence.

“Sorry for oversharing.” you spoke quietly. If he hadn’t been so close, you were certain the waves rushing in would drown out your voice.

“Do not apologize, y/n. It is something I also find fascinating—you could say I study it too.” he was wearing a smile.

“You’re not a marine biologist?” you asked confusedly. For whatever reason, you’d assumed he was some sort of scientist. Why else would he be at the meeting?

“Not quite. You see, I study the ocean from a different angle. Not from the surface.” you furrowed your brows in concentration, trying to piece together what he meant. Maybe he voyaged in submarines, studying deep sea life?

“So you’re a scuba diver.” at his sudden laughter, you placed your hands on your hips. “Are you mocking me?” you inquired, feigning offense, though it wasn’t masked very well as a smile had broken out on your face as well.

“No, no, not at all.” Namor regained his composure, looking at you with a seriousness you hadn’t seen from him yet. “Have you ever heard of the K’uk’ulkan?” he asked. You nodded. Of course you had.

“Yes. He’s regarded as a serpent-like deity in Mesoamerican mythology. They say he had feathered feet.” you wondered why he was bringing this up, but it interested you.

He was quiet for a while until the last of the sun's orange disappeared beneath the horizon. You two were the only ones on the beach for miles.

“Namor, are you alright?” you wondered aloud, turning toward him.

“There is something you must know. Something you must promise not to share—to anyone. Am I able to trust you?” without another word, you nodded. You weren’t sure why, but you trusted him too—more than you’d trusted anyone before.

Silently, he reached for your hand and led you toward the dry sand, offering you a spot beside him on a broken log that the tide must have brought in. Hesitantly, you sat down.

“I cannot deny the feelings I harbor for you—the things I think of, the things I wish to say and want to do to and with you, but I always promised myself if this were to happen, I’d tell them of the greatest secret I’ve ever kept.” conflicting thoughts rushed through your head. For one, you were grateful he shared the same lust for you as you did for him but on the other hand, you had absolutely no idea what he wished to tell you.

“Namor I-” but your sentence fell short as he revealed the feathered feet he had and just how pointed his ears were, which had been concealed by hats both times you’d seen him. Suddenly, everything made sense. Everything he’d been alluding to was true.

“The K’uk’ulkan? That’s you?” your voice was barely above a whisper yet you couldn’t conceal the awe you felt. The curiosity. As a scientist, you had many questions, but you wanted to remain as respectful as possible.

“I’m sure you have many questions,” was the first thing he said, laughing as you nodded.

“How were you able to conceal your identity for so long? From what I’ve read about the K’uk’ulkan, the first historical texts date all the way back to the 16th century. Have you been alive that long?” you asked, hoping you weren’t prodding too much.

“It is a long, long story. I hope you have time.” he teased, knowing you would.

Namor explained that while he wasn’t actually the great deity the Mayans described, he was a mutant. You were unfamiliar with the term, but because of the Avengers and the fact that so much in the Universe was left unanswered, you believed him. He spoke of a liquid he and his people were instructed to drink because of the colonization-inflicted diseases that were wiping the entirety of Mesoamerica out left and right. At first, his mother hadn’t wanted to drink the vibranium-infused liquid as she had been pregnant with Namor at the time, but was eventually told he too would be sick and that the liquid would cure him. In many ways, you understood his pain. Colonization had also affected your relationship with your culture and at times, you were also incredibly angry at how your people were still suffering years and years later.

Because of the liquid, Namor was born with feathered feet and his people worshiped him. He described his people with such fondness in his eyes. They called him K’uk’ulkan and he was the ruler of an underwater civilization called Talokan. Because of the liquid his people drank, they were able to breathe underwater which is how they were able to survive. Everything sounded so beautiful to you.

“Your home sounds lovely. If there was a way, I’d love to see it one day.” you said with a smile.

“There is a way.”

That had been a year ago. Since the talk you’d shared with him on the beach, you two had only grown closer. After meetings on the very same sands every now and then, he’d asked if you’d wanted to see Talokan. You’d said yes, happy that he’d trusted you as much as he did. You had to admit it was absolutely amazing. You’d never seen anything quite like it before and his people grew very fond of you as well. They enjoyed your company whenever Namor allowed you to visit and you were beginning to wish you’d never have to leave, though you were conflicted. Everything you’d wanted to become was on the surface, and Namor had only spoken to you once before about what would have to happen in order for you to stay with him and his people in Talokan permanently.

While you were putting your suit on, you’d decided to talk to him about everything you’d been thinking about.

Namor was watching you with the same fondness in his eyes he’d had the very first day he’d met you. It was something you’d gotten used to.

“Sometimes I wish I could stay here with you forever,” you’d whispered though the cave was empty. It was just you and him.

He rose a brow.

“In yakunaj (my love),” he whispered back. “There are ways that can be arranged, but I cannot ask that of you. That is a decision you’ll have to make yourself.” he stated solemnly. You knew what he wanted—what he desired—and you knew how dangerous that was. If he asked you to stay with him, you knew you’d say yes. Namor knew that too. That was why the decision was ultimately left to you.

“I think I love you.” is what you began with. You’d, of course, told him this numerous times before, but right now, it felt like it mattered the most that he knew this decision was coming from your heart.

“I love you too, y/n.” Namor looked like he wanted to reach out and hold your hands so you let him. They were grounding, helping you focus on what you’d wanted to say.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” and that was the truth—you did. “There is more you can teach me about the ocean than any land-dwelling professor. I want to wake up and see your face in the morning. I want you to teach me more about your culture—anything you think I might need to know. I’m all ears. I can’t fathom leaving you.” you whispered. The two of you were impossibly close. When he exhaled, you could feel it on your face. Searching his eyes, you anxiously awaited his response.

“I can teach you things no college professor of yours even has the knowledge to grasp, throw big, grand celebrations for you. You will be their Reina.” at your confused head tilt, he clarified.

“Their queen, y/n. You will be the Queen of Talokan. My queen.”

The ceremony had been one of the most extravagant things you’d ever been a part of. Before any of that though, you’d been given the mysterious liquid to drink which was going to give you similar abilities that the Talokan’s had. You still couldn’t believe you’d be able to breathe underwater—that you’d be living underwater. Namor had promised he’d be by your side as you drank from the flower and assured you that everything would be okay.

After you drank it, it was like a sedative. You were passed out in moments and once you awoke, you found yourself gasping for air. It seemed as though your lungs could no longer intake oxygen. As promised, Namor rushed you to the body of water that led to Talokan in the cave so you could get your bearings. He seemed to be memorized by you and your bravery. Once you caught your breath and gazed around the cave, the world felt different. You felt different, which was to be expected. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around Namor who held you close and you shut your eyes. The weight of what you’d just done finally settled in and while you were excited for the new opportunities and the fact that you’d been welcomed into his home, you were going to miss the surface-world.

“Is everything okay, in yakunaj?” he asked, his voice full of worry and concern.

It took you a moment, but after you collected yourself, you nodded, smiled and let him lead the way as you swam down, down, down.

Sometimes curiosity got the best of you. Like you’d said, one of the guards had informed you Namor was holding two prisoners in the caves and since you’d always been an explorer, you asked one of your guards, Muyal, to take you to them. Namor rarely held people in the caves as no land-dwellers knew anything about Talokan so when she begrudgingly said yes, you smiled and let her lead the way.

Since you’d become Reina, the Talokan people had treated you very differently to the visiting land-dweller you had been before you’d drank the vibranium-infused liquid. As a means to honor the K’uk’ulkan and your husband, you were gifted pointed, jeweled ear pieces you wore along with his mother’s bracelet he’d given you on the night of your wedding. You hadn’t taken it off since and every time he noticed you wearing it, Namor couldn’t help but smile. To honor your own culture, most days you wore golden hand pieces that reminded you of a home you were never able to know but hoped that you could visit one day, even if you were only able to travel its oceans. Namor respected the fact that you honored both yourself and his people and during language lessons, sometimes he asked you to teach him about your native tongue as well. You were happy to do so.

It took a while to swim upward toward the caves, but once you arrived, Muyal handed you a water-mask you needed to wear in order to breathe on land.

The first thing you registered was the fact that there were two women sitting there, one of which was wearing royal clothing that Namor had designed specifically for princesses or princes—in this case you recognized her as princess Shuri of Wakanda. The other woman—someone you did not recognize—was sitting on the ground and she noticed you first. Her face morphed into something akin to fear—worry—which confused you. You were not there to harm them. You just wanted answers.

“Shuri,” the woman sitting on the ground whispered, unable to look away from you as she tapped on the other. Princess Shuri looked at you yet you couldn’t quite register what she was thinking. Her facial expression was unreadable.

“Hello,” you stated, waving hesitantly at the two. The one on the floor waved back albeit nervously. “I’m not here to hurt you,” you said. “I just want answers.” Shuri and the woman sitting on the floor looked at each other with unreadable expressions before turning toward you.

“Did Namor not tell you?” Shuri asked confusedly. You shook your head. No, he had not.

“No, he didn’t. That’s why I came here. Things like this don’t happen often.” is what you replied with, hoping that would ease the tense atmosphere. The woman on the floor seemed happy with your answer and smiled.

“I’m Riri Williams. I’m sort of the reason we’re in this mess,” she nudged Shuri’s shoulder and the two of them laughed, though you weren’t privy to what caused everything. Riri eventually continued. “I’m a scientist,” that caused a smile to break out on your face.

“Me too,” you shared with her, urging her to continue her story.

“I made a vibranium detector that my professor sold to the government without my permission and now Namor wants to kill me,” it was word vomit but your blood ran cold. Namor wanted to kill her?

In a way, you supposed you understood. If the world were to gain access to vibranium detectors, Talokan would be discovered, compromising Namor and his people. But on the other hand, you could tell none of this was her fault.

“Maybe if I talk to him,” you mumbled under your breath but Shuri must have heard you.

“I have already tried. I could not convince him,” you felt immensely bad for both Shuri and Riri and an overwhelming urge to help them.

“How can I-” in the corner of the room where one of your guards stood, there was a sudden commotion that had the three of you turning toward the sound. Shuri stood protectively in front of Riri while you allowed Muyal to position herself into an attacking position in front of you.

“Nakia?” Shuri whisper-shouted. Muyal took the moment of distraction as her chance to strike. A shout left your lips but because of the adrenaline, she didn’t stand down like you’d demanded. Nakia threw her arms over her face defensively and once she regained her composure to fight back, she fired a warning shot that hit the wall of the cave. Because of the loud noise, none of you had noticed the fact that one of the guards had Shuri in a chokehold. Before you could do anything though, Nakia positioned her gun and got ready to fire.

“P'at a biin le princesa (let go of the princess)!” Nakia demanded, fluently speaking Yucatec.

The guard shook her head. You glanced over at Riri who had her hands over her mouth.

“Ma'atech (never)!” the guard shouted.

Nakia sighed in frustration, knowing how much time she was losing.

“Shuri, move your arm to the right.” as soon as she complied, Nakia shot the guard's arm, emitting a scream from your lips as you rushed toward her, hoping there was something you could do to help her feel better. The blast from Nakia had singed her arm pretty good.

You watched as Shuri collapsed beside you, shouting something about war and everything was just so, so overwhelming.

“I can fix this!” Shuri shouted, her voice full of anguish as Nakia demanded she follow her.

“Shuri, we don’t have time!” she shouted back, grabbing her by the arm. Nakia glanced at you.

“You,” she pointed at you. Your eyes widened. “You’re coming with us.” everyone was shouting in confusion—including you.

“What!? Why!?” you demanded. You hadn’t done anything wrong as far as you knew.

“There cannot be any witnesses.” Nakia muttered as she led the four of you to the ship-like tube she’d taken to Talokan. Hesitantly, you boarded, watching as Talokan got smaller and smaller and smaller.

Solemnly, you wondered where Namor was.

chapter 2

[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt. 2

Part One: The Stranger

Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 8k (lol whoops)

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, PLOT

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

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

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

There is a growing unrest inside you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man's left eye slowly squints open.

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

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

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

"King. Serpent. God. Monster."

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

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

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

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

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

King. Serpent. God. Monster.

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

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

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

There is someone inside.

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

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

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

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

“Sir,” the man behind you bellows.

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t move a muscle.

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

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

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

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

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

She. He is looking for Namora.

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

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

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

Barrett sighs and gives you a disappointed smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His implication is obvious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zzzzziiinnng!

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

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

Namor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keep moving, you tell yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come,” she insists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A god. A monster.

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

"No." She whispers fiercely.

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

——

Your feet drag through the cool sand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

You only nod, afraid to say too much.

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" He asks through a clenched jaw.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His face is stoic as he listens to your answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's beautiful." You say reverently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A version of me." He answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-- -- -- 

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

[inklore]

that first gif. ceo!namor asking you what you think about his outfit for the night's event. you're still in his bed, all drowsy and smitten as you shower him with compliment after compliment because obviously he looks like sex on legs no matter what he does and. apparently praises get him going enough to risk being late <3

pairing: ceo!namor x (f)reader

word count: 590

warnings: eighteen+ content, fluff but make it sexy, teasing, the smut is insinuated.

note: was trying to think of a coherent thing to say but all i have are soft and dirty thoughts, i apologize for nothing!!

You watch him run a smooth hand through his hair, pushing down any strays that have moved out of their place. His gaze transfixed on his own reflection in the floor length mirror. You’ve lost count of the minutes that have ticked by with him fussing over himself.

The handful of compliments and praises you’ve already given him only seem to prolong his staring.

“Maybe I should go tonight.” You tease, grin at the softening of his hardened expression when he meets your eyes through the mirror. You both know you hate these kinds of events, and you’re already happily comfy between the sheets to put on some tight dress and fake pleasantries for a whole night. “Don’t know if I can trust the office girls to keep their hands to themselves,” you let your eyes drag down the open collar of his dress shirt to the tightness of his pants around his thick thighs, and back up again as he turns to face you. A dreamy sigh falling exaggeratingly from your lips, ”I can hear them now ‘Oh my god, Namor, you look so good, oh Namor your wife’s not here? oh how sad. Let me go get you another drink, Namor, anything for you, Namor!’” You mock.

His laugh warms your chest, his fingers buttoning the front of his suit jacket as he strides over to you. “Those poor girls. If only they knew.”

“Knew what? How you look even more devastatingly good under the suit as well? The whole package,” your eyes home in on his crotch, giving him a playful look. “And then some.”

The grin on his face stays amused and sweet until he’s leaning down, taking your chin between his fingers, hovering just above your mouth. “If only they knew the only thoughts getting me through the night are returning back home to you,” his hand slides under the covers, running up your inner thigh slowly. Your legs open almost as if on command for him, just from a simple touch. A small gasp lying dormant in your throat when he skates past your underwear to hook a finger in the waistband and lets it snap against your skin. “Naked in this bed, ready for my return.”

His lips press to yours, the kiss not lasting nearly enough for your now needy insides.

When he tries to lean back up you stop him with looping your arms around his neck, “or I could be naked for you right now, and you can show me what else you look good doing in this suit.”

“And be late?” He smirks, but makes no move to remove himself from your hold. “That’s not setting a good example for the investors.”

“You’re charming and look like you belong on a magazine cover, the words coming out of your mouth don’t matter to them. You’ve already won them over by looking like this!”

His chuckle vibrates against your lips as he leans in for another kiss, “I could be convinced then.” His tongue runs along your lower lip as he pushes himself further on the bed, and on top of you. “Keep complimenting me–I’m charming, I’m sexy, what else?”

“Sweet talking you out of your suit now am I?”

“I’m keeping it on remember.” He slots a knee between your open thighs. His hands running down your body—thumb brushing your nipple through your camisole. Your breath hitching against his lips when he pushes your hip up to grind against his knee. “Show me how much you like the suit.”

[jamesbarnesbestgirl]

Una Noble Reina - Chapter 1

Summary: 

K'uk'ulkan’s mother knew her son was special from the moment he was born. It wasn’t until she realized that he was aging at a far slower pace that she felt a deep sadness for her son. She turned to Chaac, who had blessed her shaman with the vision that saved her people, for solace that her son would know happiness and love. Chaac bestowed upon her the knowledge that when the time was right her son would meet his match in a woman with K'áak'o' tu yicho'ob (fire in her eyes). 

Nearly 500 years later K'uk'ulkan is faced with the startling reality of his own mortality in the aftermath of the defeat at the hands of Shuri. With relations with Wakanda improved but still strenuous, K’uk’ulkan turns his focus to strengthening Talokan by any means necessary. While recovering from the battle he is reminded of his promised match and sets on a path to find her.

CHAPTER 1 - Nos despedimos con un saludo

Notes: 

The inspiration of this story is very loosely based around the Venezuelan legend of María Lionza (also referred to as Yara) the goddess of nature, love, peace and harmony. 

I have not written a fanfic in quite some time so please be gentle. 

The only specific physical description that I plan on writing into this fic is going to be that the reader has central heterochromia in both eyes. This is a genetic condition in which an individual has two eye colors, with a primary base color and a secondary color in a ring around the pupil. The base color is up for your personal interpretation, but the inner ring is described as a ring of fire in the reader's eyes. The reader is also aprox. 27 years old. 

Present Day - Orlando, FL

The world was going to shit. At least, that’s what you thought as you walked away from your advisor's office back towards your own. Ever since the second alien invasion of earth (that you were aware of at least) had whipped out half the planet only for everyone to be brought back five years later, your life had been slowly imploding. 

First your entire family had been snapped away, leaving you to fend for yourself and grow as a person on your own. Now, a year after they had returned, your PhD advisor dumps the fact that the University is redistributing all research funds for her lab towards vibranium research. Thus, leaving her without a way to fund research and you without a clear path forward to obtaining your PhD.

“That purple demon should have just done us the mercy of snapping everyone out of existence. At least that way our lives wouldn’t be falling apart.” You said begrudgingly as you sat down at your desk.  Hiding your head in your arms in the process. 

 “You too, huh?” your friend and fellow former PhD candidate Itzel said. “It could be worse. They are at least granting us a masters for the work we’ve already completed.” She said placing her hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. 

“Yayyy…” you say unenthusiastically waving your finger in the air without lifting your head. You take a few deep breaths to gather your feelings before sitting up in your chair. “I guess I will just start tutoring full time while I’m job hunting.” You said, attempting to smile. 

“You know, my mother is the principal at the local elementary school in my hometown.  A few days ago when I spoke with her she mentioned that they are looking for an English teacher.” Iztel stated, while fully turning to face you. “I’m sure if I ask she would be happy to get us both jobs at the school. Plus, aren't you always saying you want to improve your spanish? What better way to do that than to move to Mexico?” She added enthusiastically. 

“Supongo que eso podría funcionar. Un cambio de escenario debería hacerme bien.” you responded after careful consideration with a smile. 

“Perfecto!” Itzel exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I will speak to my mother tonight and then you can come over on the weekend and we can figure out the details.”

Feeling a renewed sense of hope you nodded in agreement. You finally turned towards your computer ready to get back to work for the day. 

Present Day - Talokan - Underwater Cavern

K'uk'ulkan was agitated. He was still attempting to wrap his head around his loss to Shuri. He had clearly underestimated her hunger for vengeance. Luckily for him and his people she had shown mercy at the eleventh hour. The loss was making him face a reality he was not expecting. That maybe, despite his best efforts, Talokan was not ready to fully protect herself from the surface world. Remaining hidden was becoming more difficult year after year. The tentative alliance that stemmed from the conflict with Wakanda would only act as a temporary solution to his dilemma. He needed a stronger way to ensure his people's safety. But how? 

“You’re doing it again.” stated Namora, as she entered his hut. 

“Doing what?” he asked, still lost in his thoughts. 

“Sulking.” she voiced. “You are the one that assured me that this alliance is what is best. If that has changed…” She continued.

“It hasn't.” K'uk'ulkan cut her off, finally turning his attention to Namora. 

“Then what has you so troubled?” Namora asked, her concern for her cousin seeping through her voice. “I ask as your cousin, not as your general.” She proceeds to sit next to him and look at the mural he was previously mindlessly staring at. 

K'uk'ulkan turned to her and sighed. “I stand by that the alliance with Wakanda is what’s best for Talokan, but I will not lie and say my ego was not bruised by the defeat.” He admitted. “I underestimated the princess, underestimated her drive.” he turned back towards the mural. 

“The surface world will turn on Wakanda, and when they do Talokan will be their only ally. I just need to make sure we are ready. That if, when the dust settles and Wakanda turns on us, there will be no question as to who the final victor will be.” He turns back to Namora, his jaw set in determination. 

Namora sits there with him, letting his statements sink in. They sit in silence as Namora scans the murals her king had painted throughout the hut. Moments of his history, of the history of Talokan, captured in the beautiful traditional paintings. One mural caught her eye. Slightly obstructed from view, below the mural depicting his birth, was a figure. The small mural was of a woman, one wearing an intricate crown, her eyes full of fire. 

“What about Le Reina?” She asked, breaking her cousin's contemplation once again. His focus shifts the mural Namora is gazing at. 

“She doesn’t exist. I’ve spent years searching for her.” he scoffs slightly, turning away from the mural. 

“I’ve never known you to be one to give up.” Namora says with a raised brow, a small smirk pulling at her lips. 

“I haven’t given up.” he scoffs in offense. “Le Reina, my match, I have always assumed would be a mutant, like me. I would know if there was another mutant within the waters of Talokan.” he stated firmly. 

Namora sat in contemplation for a moment. “It sounds like there is one place you have yet to look.” She turned her gaze to the hut door. 

“The surface world?” he questioned. “You think the queen of Talokan is from the surface world?”

“Well, have you checked?” Namora countered back. 

They let the silence once again take over. It is true that he had never considered a surface dweller. K'uk'ulkan had expected his match to be born in Talokan from the day his mother had told him of his intended. He had spent the better half of a century after he had first come of age searching for her. After almost 300 years of no sign of her, he had all but given up. 

“The surface world is a large place.” he stated. 

“Then we better start looking.” Namora said. She stood up and turned to exit his hut. 

16th Century - Yaracuy, Venezuela

In the rainforest of Venezuela, in a small village along the Yaracuy river the chief of the village waited impatiently outside his home. He paced back and forth along the river embankment. He could hear the labor pains of his wife from within his home. After a particularly loud groan from within the home he began to pray to their mountain god for the safe delivery of his child. 

A few minutes went by and the chief finally heard the cry of his newborn child. After a few moments one of the village women, who had assisted during the birth ushered him inside to meet his new child. 

“My love, come meet our beautiful daughter.” His wife gestured towards him with an exhausted smile on her face. 

The chief knelt beside his wife and pushed back her sweat soaked hair in a loving gesture. “May I hold her?” he asked as he kissed his wife’s forehead and silently thanked the gods for a safe delivery. 

His wife carefully transferred their newborn daughter into his arms. “She needs a name.” she said while smiling at her child. 

“Yara. Our beautiful Yara.” He said with a smile as he gently held his beloved daughter. 

As the family began to bond with their new member the child slowly opened her eyes. Both parents paused their loving gestures and looked from their child to each other. The girl's eyes were unlike anything the chief had encountered. She had eyes as green as the rainforest with rings of fire surrounding her pupils. 

Present Day - Orlando, FL

After your initial talk with Itzel you had finished up work for the day. That weekend you had spent nearly 5 hours on facetime with your friend and her mother. As Itzel had predicted her mother was enthusiastic about the idea of you joining her school as their English teacher. 

Now, 3 months later, consolation masters done, you were packing up the last of your things for the move. You had sold all of your furniture, as it would have been far too expensive to move.

 “How long of a drive is it again?” you ask Itzel as she loaded her last bag into the back of your car. 

“44 hours if we were to drive straight through without stopping.” she said as she walked around to the front passenger side. 

“If we aim for about 8 hours a day we should get there by the end of the week.” you state as you enter the driver side of the car. Itzel was from the small coastal town of Sisal, just north of Mérida in the Yucatan province of Mexico. As you plugged in her family’s home address into your phone's GPS system you ensured that you could see out of the rear view mirror with the trunk pact full of your stuff. 

“We better get going then if we want to reach the panhandle by dark.” she says as she adjusts her seat. 

You pull away from your apartment and start the drive north. It was strange leaving the place you had called home for the last 6 years, but in saying goodbye you were saying hello to a new chapter of your life. 

Translations

Supongo que eso podría funcionar. Un cambio de escenario debería hacerme bien. - I guess that could work. A change of scenery should do me good.

[mimiiis]

El Mar (pt.2) (Namor x Latina!Reader)

(photos are not not mine)

Summary: Namor shows you something you never thought to be possible.

Warnings: All the Mayan used is from a translator, I apologize if anything is wrong. Cursing, mentions of fear, I think that’s abt it tbh !!Not Proofread!!

Series Masterlist. Prev. Next.

Word Count: around 9k

A/n: I am telling yall rn I was stressed the fuck OUT writing this 💀, not much happens but dw its all just leading to somewhere 🥹🙏

Words floated and spun in your head, an elaborate thread of language that you did your best to weave together as you wrote each word that crossed your path in the book before you. You wrote out each one in the English alphabet, translating the syllables you read aloud into a full word you could understand by connecting the pronunciation to its English counterpart. The process was absolutely time consuming, and it worked. Days passed since that night with Namor, and you had only thought of translating and learning the ancient language.

Something about that interaction seemed to have changed everything you had grown accustomed to. The women let you bathe on your own, you were given simple but still very elegant dresses, and they even smiled at you now. They may have been false but the faint welcoming energy made you feel.. happy? The young girl who had been previously frightened of you, now looked in your eyes and gave you a grin that felt like the warmth of the sun you missed.

You did your best to speak to them, writing and translating simple phrases like “how are you?” or “good morning/night” for whenever you saw them. You didn't know if your accent or pronunciation of words was correct, only going off of what you had heard those around you spoke like. Yucatec Mayan was very different from Spanish, though some words were alike. You delighted in glee when you translated a word and saw it was one you were familiar with.

The book you were given, Le Ujo’, was the main occupant of your time. You had only been able to translate a page or two, but even then you were able to make out the story within the papers. It focused around a girl, a girl who was like the moon. Her personality was described as cold but warm to those who saw past it, something about the few paragraphs you were able to read made it remind you of yourself. Her features were described almost identically like yours, you were half convinced it was written about you. But it couldn’t have been right? The pages were crinkled and worn, ink stains and blotches adorned it and so you believe it must’ve been a few decades old.

You did wonder where it came from, if the story was a part of the ancient Mayan culture that the world had long forgotten. If Namor and his people truly were still well preserved in time, they must’ve had a thousand stories to tell. The anticipation to quickly learn the language and demand to be told them all made your heart pound, it kept you going.

Being so busy now gave you less time to wander of the world you’d left behind, the subject still felt like a dagger in your heart when you did. It was only at night when you lay awake, causing a fit and moving every 3 seconds due to the unbearable thoughts of your mind, was when you’d wander back to your family and friends.

You came to think you understood Namors motives in keeping you hidden away here. Why he kept his people safe, their secrets and thriving life. These people were his own family, people he wanted to protect. The risk of a human running to the hills and telling everyone your secrets is not something you’d want to happen to you if you so graciously invited someone into your own home. You were so grateful to witness everything you had, but you still wondered why he hadn’t just left you on the beach. He explained his reasoning but it still irked you, how did he know about the men? About what they wanted to do to you? He said he felt connected to the sea, maybe the ocean called and told him. Maybe he felt what you did in your own bones, connected to that ancient spirit that resides in the depths of the waves.

The strangest thing was that when you thought of him, you felt that longing you always felt when looking at water. To urge to go to him and simply be there took a hold of you each time, it made you burn in either embarrassment or rage. You were unable to tell between the two.The resentment and the part of you that was simply human fought against each other day and night.

You tried not to dwell on that topic, the argument ringing bright and clear in your mind as you still tried to continue with your studies. But as much as you tried, you couldn’t ignore the pounding heart and rapid heating of your cheeks as your mind always managed to drift back into thinking of him.

~~~~

You sat in your chair, back and neck hurting as you craned your head into the book. Your wrist ached as you wrote down each letter without having to look back at the parchment paper made to help you. You managed to memorize each symbol, calculating the letters into place and quickly jotting them down as you got them. You’d make sure you were right when you finished.

The sound of a whistle and the sweet gentle call of your name broke your train of thought, making you shoot your head in its direction. There at the entrance of the room was the young girl, Nikté.

You learned her name when she first saw you reading the mayan book, eyes going wide as she suddenly began to talk frantically. You obviously hadn’t known how to tell her you didn’t know what she was saying, so you resulted in trying to write the word “learning” in her language. She nodded her head immediately after, that smile across her lips as she introduced herself properly at last. From then on, she visited you often, always coming into your room to tell you when food was ready, when the bath water was on its way. Though you mostly communicated by saying one word, it made you feel less alone. As if you had made a friend.

You stretch your arms, holding them above your head as you greet her, “Hola.” Smiles paint both your faces as she makes her way towards you. Her long black hair flowing behind her, the jingle of her jewelry is heard throughout the cavern as she appears in front of you. “Hola.” She replies, politely bowing her head to you.

You didn’t know what time it was, having gotten lost in your studies and skipped the time in which they brought the bath water to you. You stood up from the chair to stand at her height, bowing your own head to her as well as continuing to stretch by bending parts of your body you felt knots in.

Usually, she would sit down after you greeted her. Helping you with word accents and such but today she did not even look at the table.

“P'isib u janal?” You asked, ‘food time?

She shook her head, when she did you noticed the smile on her face. It was wider, happier, lovelier.

“Taal u.” She simply says, reaching her hand towards yours. The cold blue skin greeting your own made you shiver. She intertwined her fingers with yours, giving you a soft squeeze before nodding her head to the direction of the door.

“Taal u.” Come.

~~~

She led you through the halls, still walking hand in hand with you as you suddenly came to a stop before the room you had seen her and the two women weaving your dresses.

“Pa’atik.” She told you, Wait. She let your hand go, going inside of the dimly lit area and leaving you out in the hall.

The faint dripping of water, loud voices, and laughs were the constant noises you heard here. It had become second nature to block them out but you decided to listen to your surroundings as you waited for your friend. The rustle of fabric, the jingle of jewels, and what sounded like a hushed argument came from the place you waited outside of. You fidget with your fingers, wondering what you were even waiting for. The urge to walk back into the room and continue reading consumed your being, and it took everything in your body to stay planted where you were.

A minute or two passed when you were suddenly pulled inside the room. Your heart leaped out your chest and you let out a small scream as you were suddenly sat onto a plush chair in the middle of the room.

Nikté’s eyes greated your own, crinkled by the smile of her face. Her long fingers made their way through your hair, softly beginning to detangle it as you stared at her in confusion. You drifted your gaze as she made her way behind you, trying to take in your surroundings as this was your first time in this room.

You had only ever seen the guards, Nikté, and the two women during your stay here but the sight before you made you realize how you truly didn’t know the strange world you were in.

At least 10 women stood in the crowded space, all handling either jewelry or large amounts of fabric. Shining, glittering, or sheer, the yards of silk flowed off the tables around you and onto the floor like water. They flooded the room, a carpet of colors decorated the floor and your eyes went wide. You’d only ever seen such fabric of high quality in boutiques while shopping for dresses. Where did they even get these from?

You looked at the beautiful patterns and colors before you. White, black, and red colored dresses caught your attention. Each unique and with a personality of their own, all with different skirts and necklines. You wondered who or what they were for, enamored with the intricate details of them all. Patterns of flowers and ocean waves looked to be hand woven into the hems , rising up and up like flames and scattering across the bodice of each.

You couldn’t take your eyes off them, so entranced by their beauty you did not even notice the layering of beads upon your body. Heavy earrings were placed on your ears, pure jade decorated with gold and a matching necklace. The same type of jewelry they would dress you in to present you to Namor. You felt them, but didn’t truly notice until you looked away from those dresses and into a mirror. A large vanity style mirror was hung on the wall before you, you stared at your reflection.

Something about you changed. The last you had seen yourself in the mirror was the first day you were here, you could still feel that small piece in your hands as you flexed them. Back then you were scared, utterly frightened and confused of everything, but now you weren’t. Though still in the dark of several things, like where these beings around you even lived and came from, you seemed happier. The once deep bags of your eyes seemed to have filled out, you carried yourself taller, and the jewelry you once dreaded to see now made your stomach whirl in nervousness.

You were going to see him again. You swore to not think much of it but you kept remembering the book. You didn’t know if he picked out for you personally, but you wondered if he remembered reading about the girl who looked and acted just like you. You wondered if that's why he chose it. He even translated the symbols for you and wrote down their phonetic sounds. You began to think of that night and tending to his wounds. Reminding yourself of those things he said that made your heart skip a beat, stupid stupid man.

The anger you held for him kept you sane, or that’s what you’d like to believe. You didn’t know why you couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your knee bounced up and down, you bit your bottom lip, and you stared blankly at the mirror as you watched Nikté brush and place small pearls in your hair. She hummed softly, the water of her mask swishing with her as she moved her head side to side in the rhythm of the song she sang.

So sweet, so soft. Everything about her reminded you of the sun. The warmth of her voice and smile, the brightness of her eyes and laughs. She reminded you of Adeline. Though your friend on land was rather vulgar and half insane, she could be the nicest person you’d ever known when she wanted to. The sunset on the beach before you came here played through your mind, the way she looked at you with pure joy on her face made your heart ache. You got lost in the memory, going misty eyed before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Terminado.” Finished Nikté says, leaning over your shoulder to whisper it into your ear. You focus your gaze back to the mirror before you.

The front of your hair was covered in pearls appearing to look like a makeshift crown. The tiny beads reminded you of the fresh morning dew that coated the soft petals of flowers on that land you missed, small and delicate. The rest of it was loose and neatly pinned back so it stayed away from your face. All but two strands of hair poked out before your ears to frame your features.

You could almost die at the fact they made you look so pretty to only see him. Gave you such fine accessories and clothes for a man you didn’t even want to care to see. You recalled how he basically admitted he dressed you, the fact he might’ve wanted them to make you look beautiful made the skin on your cheeks burn.

How dare he make you feel this way after keeping you down here? What next, was he going to try to woo you in marriage?

The sudden thought made you burn even hotter, something inside you screamed in either delight or in fear. You couldn’t tell the difference. You quickly shook the thought away, simply looking back at the blue skinned girl behind you and smiling.

~~~~

Anxiety filled your gut as you were led down the now too familiar hall to Namors hut. The seconds felt like minutes as you attempted to work up something to say when you’d see him.

Do you thank him for the book? Pretend as if it meant nothing to you when in fact it meant everything? Do you ask him about the wounds, if they healed? Hell, why did you even care so much about what to say?

So many words, ideas, excuses came to your mind.

You were so captured by them that when you blinked you were suddenly in front of the curtain that separated him from you. There, just behind that flimsy piece of fabric, was the man you tried desperately not to think of day and night.

You felt as if your lungs were going to collapse from the air that had been sucked out. Fear, terror, anxiety, and a thousand more emotions shot through you as you made the decision to finally enter.

He was sitting lazily against the same chair he had sat in during your first meeting. His back was straight but his shoulders were slightly hunched as he held a pen in one hand and a piece of that same parchment paper you had in your room. He looked tense. A stern look rested on his features as he read what was before him.

Gold adorned his neck and shoulders with thick pauldron-like armor that sat atop them. Each layer was extremely detailed, either scaled or sharp edged swirls came together to resemble something that looked to be an ancient painting of a dragon. Hints of lapis lazuli coated the edges as a necklace of gold and shimmering pearls connected the two pieces of armor together, floating across his toned chest. Not a thing out of place. A white and red edged cape hung from him, flowing off and around like those fabrics you'd seen earlier. Smooth and soft like water.

You stared at the figure before you in absolute awe. Again, the only word you could even think of when you saw him was Ethereal.

He still hadn’t noticed you as you continued to take him in. So different from the last time you saw him, that weak and vulnerable air around him was once again powerful and tense. He never exactly told you what he was, you only found out he was a King through the people around you, but he really did look like a God.

You cough, placing your hands behind your back as you call for his attention. You straightened yourself as best as possible, trying to appear as unbothered as you could in the presence of him. Though if he started talking and you heard the voice that rang through your mind and made your knees weak, you didn’t know if it would’ve been possible to keep the act up. .

Namor looks up at you, his eyes scanning your body and face before that smile he always wore when he saw you appears.

He says your name. The thick and gruff accented voice made it sound so perfect, as if it were a piece of art specially made for him and only him to ever say. You braced yourself to feel your knees buckle, but instead the sound soothed you. It caressed a place deep down inside your gut and every tensed nerve inside you calmed. Every bad thought drifted away like smoke in the wind. How strange.

“You know, you never told me your name.” Were his first words to you after that.He lifted from his chair ever so gracefully, the fluid motion of his body drew you in as you stepped further into the room.

“I don’t think you ever asked.”You replied.

“No, I did not.” He chuckles. “It was actually Nikté who told me. It is nice to see you are making friends.” He gently nods his head, greeting you the way he always did.

“Did she now?” You nod your head in return as you stop behind the chair across from his. Your eyes met his, the dark of them swirled with a flurry of emotions. You didn’t look away this time. You didn’t roll your eyes and run away from him like you had before. No, how could you? You made it this far, why turn back now.

“How are your wounds?” You ask him, looking away and taking a seat on the chair in front of you. You grabbed a piece of melón that was gently set in the bowl of fruit on the table, realizing you hadn’t eaten at all this morning.

“Take a look for yourself.”

You look back up and into his direction too eagerly. He begins to pull away the fabric at his sides, the golden skin at his waist peaking out beneath. Smooth, unmarred skin was revealed to you and your eyes went wide.

“What?” You whisper to yourself. “But- that type of injury should have taken weeks to heal. There should be scabs, o-or at least a trace of scars— How did that even heal so quickly!” You question, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at his waist. Impossible.

He simply laughs at you, hands falling away and the cape back into place. “That is actually the reason I called you here today.”

You looked back up at his face, seeing a playful grin set upon his lips. You lifted a brow, “Called me here? What? Like I’m your pet?”

Silence. The grin was wiped clean off his face, replaced with an emotion you could not quite read. You were going to ask if he was okay, worry spread through you as you realized you might’ve offended him. You considered apologizing for what you said, mouthing opening to say the words until he smiled.

His cheeks curved up until the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the smile lines at his cheeks were on full display. He laughed, practically howling as he held his stomach.

You sank down and embarrassment filled your veins. That laugh would ring throughout your mind later, you knew it. It made your stomach do flips and your heart pound at the sound. He continued to shake with laughter as he set himself back down onto the chair before you. Slowly wiping away small tears that fell onto his skin.

“Pet! That’s funny.” He manages to say in between breaths, eyes open fully and set on you now.

“It wasn’t That funny..” You mumble before biting the fruit in your hands. You chewed as slowly as possible, savoring the bittersweet taste of the melón that soaked in your tongue. Its juice coated your fingers, the slippery texture almost had it falling from your hands.

It tasted like summer. Memories of your mother bringing you fruit after playing with friends on hot days rang through your mind. You did your best to focus on those times, doing and thinking of anything to ignore his gaze on you. It reminded you of why you even let yourself be here, your silly goal of somehow convincing him to let you go back to that life you missed. You won’t let your emotions keep you away from that. Or, at least you’ll try.

He snickered, clicking his tongue as the wide smile stayed. He shook his head as he did, the last few laughs falling away. “No, it was funny.”

You huff, rolling your eyes before taking an even bigger bite of fruit. “So, why am I here?” You ask, mouth half full. Juice spilled from the corner of your lips, seeping out and dripping down onto your chin. The orange colored sap slid down down down, onto your collarbones and the necklace you currently wore. You were too busy looking at him spitefully that you hadn’t noticed he was studying the way it that stuck to your skin.

You were about to say something, something snarky and no doubt stupid when you saw him staring at you. But it quickly faded from your mind as you saw his arm reach up. A strong calloused hand made its way towards your face, holding itself in a cupping position. Your body froze as you stared at the person it belonged to. His eyes were intense, set on not your own but rather your lips. His hand reached your face, cupping your chin softly. Much softer than anyone has ever held you. His thumb swiped across the corners of your lip, wiping away the stickiness on your chin with it as well.

“You are here because I have decided I need to show you something. A way of saying thank you for the other night.” Namor replies, his eyes slowly studying your face. You felt flushed as you watched him, your fingers dug deeper into the piece of fruit you held. The soft unbruised melón was now intended by your fingers, a darker orange where you held it than the rest of its untouched counterparts. He continued to hold your face a few seconds more, the warmth of him made you want to nuzzle into it. It took everything to resist.

Chills went down your spine, goosebumps spread across your skin when he gently brushed it away. Your mind was blank, everything you ever thought of was gone, it only focused on the lingering warmth on your cheek. His presence seemed to do that to you. Like if your mind was a compass and he was north.

You stared blankly at him, the unexpected action left you going crazy. Feelings bubbled in your gut, thoughts you didn’t even want to have about him all rushed and played in your mind.

God! What was he going to show you? Surely it wasn’t anything like.. that.. right?? This is only your third real conversation!

You tensed, blinking slowly as you finally gulped down the chewed fruit in your mouth. You forced yourself to breathe, slowly and steady.

His lips began to move, he was saying something. But you didn’t hear. Your ears rang as you slowly tried to pick up the scattered parts of your brain and put them back into place.

“Huh?” You managed to force out when you noticed that he was finished. Not having heard a single thing.

Whatever he said must have been very important because he suddenly stood. The action startled you, jumping slightly at it.

“I said to follow me. I need to show you something.” He says calmly, as if what he had done to do had no effect on him whatsoever. Well, why would it? He definitely knew what he was doing. Bastard.

“Oh okay.” You mumble in response, your voice faint as your eyes follow him. His strong back was turned to you as he walked out the hut, he didn’t even wait to hear your response. He was gone and you were left staring at the gentle swaying of the curtain before you.

You softly cursed him before taking the final bite of fruit in your hands. He really was going to be the death of you.

~~~~

“That’s absolutely hideous.” You say, voice painted in disgust.

A big metal suit stood before you. It was made of chunky metal, covered in wires and lamps and a large oxygen tank. Not only that but it was quite wide. No doubt that it had many layers residing inside of it, most likely designed to protect the person who wore it. It was rounded at the edges with a thick type of plexiglass helmet resting upon its top. It reminded you of a high tech space suit, the white paint of it like those you’d seen in movies.

“Ah, so now is when you care about something being attractive.” Namor says. You can’t see him but you could tell he had a shit eating grin on his face. You shook your head before turning to look at him. You glared, showing no amusement at his response.

You both stood outside his hut, near the body of water that surrounded the rocks of the cave. The glowing pools made the suit look blue, reflecting the light that showed upon it. You both were covered in the royal colors as well, the soft glow lit his eyes in a way that looked like they were swimming with stars. Though the shadows on his face made him look more menacing, his sculpted sharp features were more intense. The complete opposite to the softness of his eyes.

“What’s it even for?” You ask, tilting your head back to the strange thing before you. You tried to examine it even farther, attempting to figure out its intended use but instead more questions popped up inside your mind.

Where did it come from? Who made it? Why was it here? Where did they even keep it?

You placed a hand on the cold metal, smooth and slick. The suit looked new, as if no one had even dared touch it before you did.

“Deep sea exploration.” The male behind you says.

“Deep sea- what?” Your eyes went wide as you whipped your head to him. He chuckles, gently making his way towards you and the suit.

“I need you to get in it. Only if you want to see what I have to show you.” He sounded so calm, as if that request wasn’t something incredibly bizarre. You stared at him in disbelief. Your brows furrowed and you wanted to call him crazy.

“What would you have to show me that requires a deep sea exploration suit anyways?” You ask instead, emphasizing the words he used.

He gave you a sly look, mischief swirled in his eyes and smiled before looking away from you. “It’s not something I can really say, only show.”

You roll your eyes at him, sighing before backing up to take in the suit's entirety once more. You grimaced as you felt a tinge of fear inside you, it sent a chill down your back. You can’t imagine where he wants to take you in that. But, if his people lived in water, if they thrived there then, maybe… maybe you could trust him with this. He saved you once, let you heal him besides his protests, gave you a book you couldn’t be more grateful for. You had few reasons to trust him, but something told you they were a part of something grander than you knew.

‘Trust him..’ That call inside you roared at you.

If anything were to go wrong, he’d be there.

He’d be there, the words rang through your mind. They put you at ease, and you grabbed a hold onto that.

“I mean I guess but..” You begin. Even though calm soothed your mind, just agreeing to get in the suit made your bones cry out. Fear and excitement whirled inside of you, it made you want to crawl out of your skin and run from the leering unknown of what he was to show you.

You can trust him..’ You repeat to yourself, to your crying nerves as you turn to look at him.

“How am I going to get in?”

~~~~

The suit was not as heavy as you thought. Though hard to navigate in, the small light that it illuminated gave you a tiny sense of security in the dark of the ocean.

Namor helped you in, giving you a small lift as you climbed inside. Though he first insisted on flying you up, grabbing your waist before you began to protest. You trashed and pounded at his chest, demanding that he let you go, he merely laughed before bending his knee for you to step on.

You asked what he was going to wear, if you really were going to such a place where something of this sort was required surely he needed one too. He simply said “You’ll see.”

That was when you learned he could breathe underwater. You stared in shock as he led your metal arm through underwater caves, smiling and talking as if the fact he could do so was absolutely nothing.

You tried not to think about it, that night he saved you, but began to think you should have. You never acknowledged how he did it, the fact he simply had was enough for you. Though this would never have crossed your mind. You supposed it made sense, he was a King— a God—, to his people who could do the same. But even then it still puzzled you, they had blue skin and he did not. They had gills, he did not. His ears were pointed, theirs weren’t. He even had wings on his feet, hell. But perhaps it was seeing him in his natural habitat that surprised you. You’d only ever seen his people, never him.

There may have been a millisecond where you thought you understood him though, what he was. But in fact, you knew nothing even when you felt as if you knew everything. And maybe you did, maybe you just needed reassurance.Maybe you just needed him to say the words himself, to tell you. To soothe you. Because the way he spoke, the way words slid off his tongue and into your soul, made you feel as if a piece inside of you was missing. And his presence was the place they resided, so whenever you were near you felt whole. You felt as if you were home, as if you could trust him. Despite every nerve in your body and thought in your mind, the piece that called you to him was stronger than any force.

Even when the cold and incredible dark of the water surrounded you, even as it still sent a disgusting wave of fear over you, looking at him made all those feelings wash away. You did nothing but watch him lead you down into the depths the entire time. You watched him swim so gracefully it put the gentle swaying of the seaweed to shame.

You didn’t know how long the journey to your destination was, you didn’t even know where you were going. Only following Namor’s lead, you waited and waited to come to a stop. To see something that would indicate something was near.

You were about to ask, where he was leading you, how far and deep in the ocean were you going. That was until the gentle glow of blue lights illuminated him and your view. You watched his smile light up.

He swam faster, leaving you trailing behind as he seemed to perch atop something that looked like a building. You were going to cry out, tell him to come back but the water seemed to push you into his direction. You were beginning to drift away, the control of the suit slipping from you as fear took over once again. But he caught you, gently grabbing your hand before turning you around to see what he had been admiring.

What you saw then made everything come into place. You were so thankful for those fragments of culture that I saw in the cave, believing that was all he had to hide. But this… you now finally understood why he’s kept you there. If you even muttered a word about the cave, what you’d seen, someone might have come looking. Might have found this, you could never do that to them. No this… this was something pure, untouched and different from the world you knew. You would have given every life you could live if it meant to have seen this only once.

He called your name, but you couldn’t look away. A smile began to make its way onto your face, pure utter joy and wonder exploded inside your chest. It filled you, the cold around you seemed to fade and every worry was gone.

“Welcome to Talokan”

It was a city, an underwater city. Ancient mesoamerican architecture sprouted from every inch of the rocky walls and earth, carved carefully and beautifully. They were everywhere, on the seafloor and above. Round, squared, or sharp edged, those buildings covered every inch before you. Large natural plants decorated the surface of them, glowing in a natural blue light that seemed to come from their veins. Weeds swayed with the motions of the water, dancing to the harmonies of life around it. Fish and jellyfish carried that same blue glow as the plants. They floated like beautiful balls of light around you.

A grand pyramid was in the middle of it all, dyed red with hints of green. It loomed and towered over the city. But instead of being separated from everything else, it welcomed the surroundings. United rather than apart, it seemed to compliment the buildings around it rather than the other way around. It spread out, the structures bordering it were parts of it. You couldn’t tell where it ended and the rest started.

That was not the centerpiece though. No, how could it be?

It was the giant, beautiful ball of glowing light.

Huge and brighter than anything you’ve ever seen, it looked like the sun. Its light bounced off every surface, illuminating what you saw now. The glow filled your soul, your heart. That call you always felt when looking towards the ocean, it thrived there.

You hadn’t noticed the whales until one passed over you. A giant, beautiful creature whose song echoed around the walls of the city. So grand, so amazing. You’d never seen one so close.

Though there was something strange about it, you looked closely thinking that the spots scattered across their skin were abnormally large barnacles, but how wrong you were.

It was people. People who rode and grasped the back of those large magnificent creatures. People who could breathe underwater and had gills as well.

You hadn’t exactly caught a good glimpse of what they looked like in water, only having seen them as blurs in the shallow pools of the cave. But you saw now. They looked like any other person on land. Tan, pale, or dark skinned, they looked so human.

Maybe they once were, maybe their ancestors felt the gentle kiss of the sun on the land above. The feel of air filling their lungs and the crisp scent of spring flowers. You wondered what happened for them to end up here.

You once yearned for the water, for what resided in the depths of the unknown expanse. Being here made you think this was it. That this was the place that called and called you every time you set foot on the shore. Was this truly it?

You began to think the pressure of the water was getting to you, that the suit would give in and you’d suddenly wake up in that small hammock of your room. But no, this was real. You grasped the hand that held yours, grounding yourself as you felt like you were floating in absolute bliss.

He called your name again, so smooth and gentle even in the ripples of sound underwater. You responded this time, having to look away before your heart exploded out of your chest.

“Would you like to see more?”

“Yes.” You replied quickly and breathlessly, nodding your head. Tears fell on your cheeks, ones you didn’t even know had formed in the first place.

Namor saw them and gripped your hand tighter. The gentleness of his eyes spread to his face, a soft genuine smile appeared. Real. No sign or hint of wit or mischief. That tense look he constantly wore was gone, vanished like it had the night he was wounded. But it wasn’t vulnerability that took over, it was something you couldn’t quite place.

A longing inside you grew as you tried to figure it out. It consumed your soul and being as you looked at him. Then it clicked.

Fondness, that was it.

You’d been here no longer than a minute but you knew what you were to see would change every emotion you had towards him. Every sliver of stubbornness and anger melted away with that look he gave, gone never to return. It is so easy for humans to surrender to their emotions, so easily influenced by other memories. At least you can say you tried.

You looked back to the world before you, taking a small leap in the water. Soon after he led you further by the hand, beginning his swim once more.

~~~

There was no excuse you could make up to go back to the life you knew before this. Not a single thought or idea could compare to what he just showed you. Why would you even want to leave after experiencing that? Namor showed you the secrets of his world. How unfair and ungrateful would you have to be to deny what he offered you. It was all you wanted and more, a life in the ocean. To be with the water forever.

You believe that if he had shown you Talokan when you first arrived, if he had been honest about what he wants to protect instead of just saying you need to stay with him, you would have said yes without a second thought.

Your blood sang along with the song of the people you heard down there. That ancient voice that kept you awake for years and years came from Talokan. That was it’s home, you knew this now.

You recalled the city and its heart. That giant ball of light made of vibranium, he had explained to you.

“It brought the sun to my people.”

His people. People who lived and thrived in that ancient and forgotten world. You saw children and adults go about their day. All laughing, smiling, trading goods, or playing sports. It was no different than the land above, they were just like any other society. They had their love, lives, people to protect.

You marveled at it even now, seeing beings with gills and swimming skills that would put those who trained their whole lives to shame.

They greeted you and Namor like old friends, wide grins on each of their faces. They weren’t afraid of you, no. They went up to you, bowing and placing their left wrist upon their right, a salute of some sorts to their king before coming and gently touching your suit. They examined you as you did them, not a hint of malice or disgust in their faces. But rather joy and wonder, you tried to listen to what they told you. Syllables and words you didn't know or understand crowded your ears as when all began to talk at once. You tried your best to keep up, but you only understood the few words Nikté had said to you.

Regardless, they all looked so happy. So free.

In a world where all the rules from that up above never existed you begin to fantasize living there.

As yourself, as the person you always wanted to be. Unbound from the shackles of expectations from family and friends. All that you would get judged for around from those on the surface, your gut told you that they never would down in the ocean below.

But, you had family and friends like they did. You had people who missed you, who worried and cared. What would happen if one of those smiling beings you saw had been in the same situation as you? You’d want them to come back home. Why would you keep them away from everything they’ve known?

It had been a few minutes since you returned to the cave with Namor. You sat at the edge of the rocky floor, feet dipped into the water below. He sat next to you, covered in the cape he had previously worn now acting as a towel.

No words had been exchanged since he had told you it was time to come back. Your mind was still in that city, so was your heart. You kept your eyes closed, burning everything you had seen into your mind. Like the amber which once encased the bones of the past, like the way these people upheld and cherished their undiscovered lives.

You kicked your legs back and forth, the splish splash of the water filling the silence of the cave. You hummed to yourself, that same song Nikté sang earlier.

“I know that melody.” Namor suddenly spoke, voice no louder than a whisper. You turn your head to him, only to see he was already looking at you. He was so close, his shoulders nearly touching your own. His hand almost overlapped your own as well, his pinky looked as if it was reaching for your own.

You give him a smile, “Nikté said it was called K’iino’. That means sun right? Was- Is it about the vibranium sun?” You ask.

He nods, a smile grows on his own face at your words. You nod in return. Silence spread throughout the cave again.

You tensed, body stiff from containing all the questions building inside you. You did your best to not say anything, not wanting to pry at him and his reasoning. But you needed to hear him talk, to feel that warmth his voice brought throughout your body. You needed to know, to know why he showed you such a secret. He told you himself, he could not risk his people being compromised.

“Why did you show me Talokan? I don’t— I would have been fine in the cave you didn’t need to show me. I’m just a human from land. I highly doubt I have the right to be shown such a thing-“ The words you had been holding in finally burst, flowing freely before he cut you off.

“Why do you think I gave you the book?” He says.

You quieted. Why did he give you the book?

You blinked at him, mouth in an O shape as you considered the question. You’ve thought about it of course, but never came to a conclusion. Your mind would mostly drift off when thinking about him, about the girl in the book. You never tried to understand exactly why he gave it to you. You assumed it was for you to simply learn the language, obviously that was not just it.

He saw you pause, his brows furrowed and a troubled look flashed upon his face. He shook his head immediately after, brushing away whatever he had been thinking of. Namor finally looked back into your eyes, a flame burning bright in them as he stared intently.

“You had the right to know. I don’t want you to think that I am keeping you here as a prisoner. I don’t want you to feel like one. You are allowed to do what you like, what you please. I gave you the book so…” He paused, trying to find the right words to say. “If you read the whole thing, I had a feeling you would be able to understand why I am keeping you here. If I showed you Talokan, you’d understand even better. I needed you to see what I have to protect, what I am protecting. And that I could protect you too.”

A wave of emotions was sent over you as he spoke those last few words.

Protect you too.

But what was he protecting you from? You weren’t Talokanil, you had been exposed to the world above. You’d lived in it, you came from it. You were born from the dirt and ash unlike those he called his people. You thought of your own people actually.

How similar the lives of both civilizations live. How a mother or father of someone might go so far as to protect their children. Talokan was his, he was their King. Their God. But you had a mother of your own too, a father. Siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles who you know would worry for you as much as he would for a single one of them.

“What would you do if one of your own people got stolen? If the person who held them locked them away where you have no chance of finding them. what would you do?” You ask.

“I’d tear the world apart to find them.”

“And what is to say my family won’t do the same for me?”

He froze, the burning in his eyes stopped. A cold seized over him as he looked stunned. For just a split second, sadness flashed against those brown orbs and you didn't look away.

He said your name, softly and gently. It almost broke your heart to hear him say it. “You want to leave? After I showed you-“

You cut him off, “No! Never, I could not do that to you. To Nikté, to all those people down there. I would never.” You explain. “I just..I simply ask for a week on the surface every month. On land, I have no doubt people are looking for me. I just— I need to let them know I am safe. That I am cared for. I will not tell them anything about you or what I know. I just don’t want them to think I ran away forever.”

Namor tenses and he backs away from you. The close proximity you once shared now distanced. He sighs heavily, throwing his head back. He’s thinking, the lids of his eyes twitching as he knits his brows.

You bite your lip, fidgeting with your fingers as you anxiously wait for his response. The silence between you two is drawn out, the sound of your mingled breathing filling your ears. You do nothing but look at him, study him.

His jaw is clenched, tight and firm. It was so sharp and pointed. Perfectly complimenting his ears. He really was beautiful.

You considered telling him to forget your offer, that you’d be fine without it and quickly storm back to your room. Until he lifted his head, rolling it around his shoulders as a faint crack came from the tensed area.

He sighs again,”One day.”

“What?”

“One day, every month.”

You stare at him again, seems to be the only thing you can do around him. It took a few seconds for the words to truly process into your mind.

“Five days.” You respond, one day was absolutely nothing.

“One.”

“Four!”

He gave you a long look. Something told you he didn’t want to fight. And neither did you. You huff, glaring at him and slightly pouting.

“Three. Three days.” Namor says, voice gruff and somewhat defeated.

Three days. Three was good, right? Longer than one, shorter than a week. It was enough time for a weekend, a weekend with your family every month. Enough time to feel the real warmth and heat of the sun upon your skin. Enough time to feel the grass and dirt to last you until the next month.

“Fine.” You agree. You open your arms to stretch your own tense muscles. You could still feel the weight of the suit on your shoulders, the way it moved in the water.

A yawn escaped you, eyes suddenly growing heavy as you turn back to Namor. He never stopped looking away from you, that soft look from before was there. So gentle, so sweet.

He looked so happy in his city, with everyone. Though you cannot say you truly know him, a piece inside of you did. And it scared you, just how at ease he made he feel. You thought of today, of what he had shown you and how he looked at you. You could still feel his hand on your cheek. Though only the ghost of it, it was still there. Has it always been there?

“You’re tired.” He says, his voice like a lullaby. Sleep called you, he was its companion. That warmth and comfort he brought you doubled now in your drowsy state.

“Mhmm.” You hum in agreement, nodding as well. Your eyes looked down, upon the expanse of him. His tanned skin, the muscles of his body. Giddy feelings swelled inside you, heat grew in your cheeks as they drifted to his left abdomen.

No wound. No scars.You had forgotten about that, when it was the entire reason he even showed you his home.

“You never told me how you healed so quickly..” You begin, eyes looking back up to him. But the second you did, Namor had begun to move.

He swiftly stood up, leaving you staring at his knees. More strong muscles in your line of vision. You could drool.

“That.. Is a story for another time. You must sleep.” He tells you, reaching his hand out to you.

The golden cuffs on his wrist shone in the soft cave light. Glinting and glimmering, you grabbed it. His rough skin welcomed yours, and it almost burned to touch him.

He pulled, a low grunt leaving your lips as you hauled your tired self up. It still felt like you were in the water., arms and knees growing weak at the sudden weight of gravity. You went at the sudden change of position, steadying yourself by squeezing his hand. He squeezed back.

The action had you burning even hotter, rushing to look back into his eyes. Something, anything to ground yourself. To let you know this was real.

And it was. That look in his eyes didn't change, it didn’t waver not one bit. It made warmth spread across your chest. You wanted to hold onto it a bit longer, to never let go of the hand that held yours. But he did.

His hand left yours, leaving a brush of emptiness against it. You almost felt sad, until you saw it come into your line of vision.

He cupped your face as he had earlier. Your body came back to life at it, every ounce of sleep left as he pressed against you.

You could melt in his hands. Your heart pounded in your ears at the flame of his touch. You wanted to speak, to say something. Anything to not let the moment pass and keep it going. You could stay here forever.

But nothing came out, not even a whisper or gasp left you as you opened your mouth to him. You just stared as you had before.

“Rest.” He tells you. “We will talk tomorrow.”

No. You wanted to say.

Now, I want to talk now. I don’t want to leave , not right now.

But sleep washed over you as he pulled his hand away. You clung onto the remanentes of warmth on your cheek. Your tired to fight the sleep that overtook you, but it was too much. You eyes were closing, you couldn’t even think straight.

So you simply nodded, bowing slightly before sluggishly heading back to your room.

~~~

Nikté pulled each pearl from your hair, combing her long fingers carefully through every strand. She massaged your scalp as you kept your eyes closed. She continued humming her song, you almost fell asleep right there.

She kept going, the melody of her voice slowly send you drifting off in the chair of your room. The bed was so close, you wanted to tell her to leave you. To drift off into the world you saw each time you closed your eyes. But you don’t think you would’ve even have enough strength to lift yourself up. To wrap yourself in the blankets waiting for you.

You just knew you needed to go back, to Talokan and to him. Only in your dreams will you find them, and that was enough for you at that moment.

You couldn’t wait any longer, finally giving into the darkness. Knowing you’d be happy to greet what awaited you, you finally slipped into the unknown. Hoping to dream about the sea. The ocean.

El mar.

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Thank you for reading <\3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

A/n: also im like extremely sorry if the ending isn’t the best i’ve been busy with school and family 😭😭 but ill be on break soon which will give me time to come back and fix this (hopefully!!)

[acciopietro]

doctor pt. 3

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: you take an opportunity despite the repercussions. namor’s determination to protect his people blinds him.

part one part two part four

word count: 6,939

tw: lots and lots of death. forced suicide (because of the talokanil sirens). the typically stuff. lots of angsty and sadness

a/n: i was listening to happiness is a butterfly while writing so this took a turn for sure... it took a hot minute but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!! i’m nervous ab this so pls let me know your honest opinions...it kind of took a turn 

part one part two

IT REALLY ONLY TOOK ONE email to make your heart drop. It was a phone call and a series of texts, too, but it was the email that did it for you. Arial, Size 12 font, formal greeting, body paragraph, half-hearted thank you, polite goodbye. Signed Doctor Reynolds, Ph.D., with the name of your team and company. Message subject: Wakanda.

You read it with vigilant eyes, still hands resting on the metal of your laptop, blue light from the screen casting a cool glow onto your tired skin. The music in your earbuds continued to play, but the sound of The Weeknd wasn’t helping calm the way your heart’s steady beat began to pick up. The words on the email flashed out at you as if they were bolded: Wakanda, harvesting, vibranium, testing, trip. Trip?

“Hi, Doctor Reynolds,” you spoke casually into your telephone, despite your palms sweating around the handle of it. Twisting the coiled cord of it with your index finger, you said, “Yeah, I just got the email. I just had some questions...”

Long story short, a team of marine scientists had ventured into the pacific, delving into the deep seas in search of the vibranium you had found a little over a year ago. You had abandoned that research per Namor’s (tacit) request (more like demand), however, you had known that it was bound to be looked at at some point. The issue was that ships were now apparently being hijacked, their tracking machines being destroyed under water as well as large groups of scientists somehow falling off ship and into the waters to their tragic death. No one knew why.

Reynolds believed Wakanda had something to do with it. He believed that since they were well known for being the sole producers and protectors of all the Earth’s vibranium, he was under the impression that they were trying to stop the United States scientists from harvesting it. Which, you had thought to yourself, would be plausible considering the United States was notorious for taking things that weren’t necessarily theirs.

“Why are we getting involved?” you asked Reynold, gripping your scalp anxiously as you listened to Reynolds explain the situation. “It’s not like if we take a boat out there, we, somehow, will miraculously end up okay. If boats are being hijacked, then... oh, I don’t know...”

Reynold went on and on.

“Wait... you mean to tell me that you already booked it?” you shrilled. “Please excuse me if I’m stepping out of line here, but it’s very likely that our boat will just get hijacked, too. And besides, why do we care so much about vibranium, again? It doesn’t harm any marine life or ecosystems...”

Reynolds spewed a bunch of nonsensical answers, beating around the bush and never quite landing on the reason you know was true: getting money and getting power. Often the root of many of Reynolds’s aspirations.

“You’re more than welcome to deny the job,” Reynold says. “But I’ve decided that I want you on that boat. You’re a useful member of this team. Whether you like it or not, this could be very big.”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ve got a week.”

You had only been home from Yucatán for one month. You had a wonderful four months of being with your sister and her family in the days and sneaking off with your man from the sea at night. You couldn’t have gotten closer to Namor; well, unless he took off his shorts and... well, you wouldn’t let him do it, anyways. He had asked. A few times. More than a few times. But for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. For starters, you weren’t on the pill and you were sure there wasn’t contraception under the sea (you asked if he had a condom one time, and he asked you what language that word was in. For someone who is immortal, he sure didn’t know a lot). 

You felt like sleeping with him for real for real would make things realer. It made him more of a commitment, gave him more power. And you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen unless you were absolutely sure that he deserved it. It was really hard to say no sometimes, though. He sure knew how to persuade you.

Accepting the job and getting on the damn boat would for sure cause an issue if Namor found out. You didn’t want to search for vibranium, especially knowing the damage it would do to Wakanda if the United States got access to such a resource, and to Talokan if the States got knowledge of their existence. But... Reynolds personally invited you, and it could do wonders for your career if it went well. 

“I don’t see why not,” your sister said when you told her of your predicament the next day. “I mean, I understand the hesitation, especially if boats are being hijacked. But who knows, maybe they’ll get an Avenger and put them on board with you to keep you safe. Hopefully it’s Captain America.”

“As much as I’d love to have Sam Wilson on a boat with me for two weeks, I’m still not sure,” you groaned, plopping down onto your couch and opening up your laptop, the blue light hitting your face as you held your phone against your ear with your shoulder. Scrolling through the news, you said, “It just feels like a thing just for money. And, like, yeah, it is, but I... wait a second...”

You stopped scrolling, eyes casting across the headline of the latest CNN article, your lips falling apart. Wakanda’s King T’Challah dead at 41.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed. Your sister asked you what it was on the other side of the phone, and you hastily forwarded the article to hear. She cursed, and both of you fell silent as you read. “Jesus Christ. I can’t go on that boat.”

---

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU won’t get on the boat?” asked Reynolds the followed week when you went into office. You shook your head, clenching your jaw.

“King T’Challah just died,” you told him matter-of-factly. “And if there really is more vibranium out there, and the States gets access to it, that’ll do a lot of damage to Wakanda.”

“We are not giving the States access to it,” Reynolds furrowed his brow, the hair of his grey mustache fluttering as he spoke. “We’re just figuring out how much of its in the water. It’s not our job to start harvesting it, that’s up to Archeology.”

“It doesn’t matter who does what,” you said feverishly. “We’re still helping do something that will eventually lead to bad things for Wakanda. And I don’t feel comfortable doing that, especially after their king just passed away.”

Reynolds narrowed his eyes at you, and said nothing before circling around to his desk and clicking the mouse of his computer. You blinked, watching him search around for something with a stern face. You waited a minute for him to speak, and when he didn’t, you cleared your throat.

“Sir..?”

“Look, L/N,” Reynolds looked at you from over his bifocals. “I understand where you stand on these more... well, political aspects of the job. But this is a big opportunity I’m offering you. If you decline, fine, but I’ll know that you’re not up to the task. I’ll give the job to Quade.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling something bubble in your stomach. Ugh, you thought. Quade. He was the worst. You knew it was wrong to take this job. Morally, it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Okay,” you sighed defeatedly. “I’ll... I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Reynolds gave you a nod and stopped typing. He pressed the delete button and held it down. “I can get rid of this email to Quade then. We leave Friday. Back your bags and tell your family you love ‘em.”

---

UNDER THE THRASHING WAVES OF the Gulf of Mexico sat a king on his throne, his forearms resting on his strong, tensed thighs as he read a piece of torn paper. He had to put the paper under pieces of surface-dweller plastic so the pages didn’t fall apart under the water, but even still, the ink had smeared a bit. Nonetheless, Namor sat, his jaw clenched, and he read.

Namor, the letter read. 

Hopefully this letter got to you all right-- my niece isn’t always too reliable. I’m writing to you in an attempt to explain myself so you don’t find out from other sources. Some people from my team will be sailing out into the Gulf with another team that’s mining for vibranium. I wanted to deny the job, but I need to take whatever opportunities they throw my way if I want to keep my head above water. I’m going to do my best to protect you and your people, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m sorry. Really, I am. If there’s anything I can do that you can think of (without totally tarnishing my reputation and/or getting fired), find a way to let me know, and I’ll do it. Again, I’m really sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.

Sincerely Apologetically Love

From, Y/N

Namor gripped the paper tight between his calloused, jewelry covered hands. Lifting his head, he glanced up at his people, the civilization they had built together, the vibranium everyone wore. He glanced at the chest plate he wore, the cuffs around his arms, at the vibranium he wore. It was everything.

He clenched his jaw, bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He laid the paper down on his lap, squeezing his eyes shut to think. 

“Namora!” he called out hastily, and after a little over a minute, the woman emerged into the space and walked up to him, standing before his throne. She knelt, opening up her palms to him in a greeting before standing up. “K'abéet in actualizaciones yóok'ol le láak' rastreador. Yaan in biin ta wéetel (I need updates on the next tracker. I’ll be going with you).”

---

THE DRIVE TO THE PORT was peaceful, palm trees swaying in the breeze and reminding you that, although it wasn’t Mexico, you were appreciative for the beauty and pleasantries of the place you lived in. Florida, with all of its ups and downs-- and you meant all of them-- was nice. The giant boat was astonishing once your Uber pulled up. People were hustling and bustling about the port, and you simply stared up at the giant ship, clutching the strap of your bag and admiring its beauty.

“Ah, Doctor L/N, good to see you. All packed?” asked Doctor Mishra, one of the men of the group who you actually liked to be around. You were thankful he was on the trip. “Boat’s giant, no?”

“Oh, yeah,” you whistled. “Y’know, I’ve never been on a boat like this.”

“I’ve been on a couple of cruises,” Doctor Mishra told you. “Wonderful vacations. However, we will not be waited on on this boat.”

“Fine with me,” you shrugged. “Do we just... go inside, or what?”

“Not sure,” he said. Smiling, he heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and said, “Let’s find out!

Everything went smoothly for the first week and three days. All the men had to share rooms with at least one other person, and you were lucky enough that everyone agreed that you should have the single room. Your research seemed to be going fairly, however, you never caught a glimpse of the research of the others aside from Doctor Mishra, who you were doing a lot of your work with these days.

One evening, after a nice warm shower, you ventured out onto the deck of the ship, letting the ocean breeze cool your warm cheeks. You caught a glimpse, however, of Dr. Reynolds and Bernstein exchanging words on the deck, standing quite close and speaking under their breaths. You crept closer around the corner, trying to eavesdrop. 

“We found it around thirty-five miles from the west tip of Cuba, so we’re thinking if we move closer towards Cancún and Yucatán and all that, we’ll find more,” Bernstein said quietly but firmly. Reynolds nodded his head in understanding.

“But what of the machines?” he asked. “The last one was destroyed, you said, signal lost?”

“Something’s hungry down there,” Bernstein shrugged. “Or however far down the vibranium is, it’s too deep for our computers. We need higher tech to harvest it.”

Your stomach turned. The team wasn’t supposed to be thinking about harvesting vibranium. Reynolds had told you that was up to Archaeology. You gulped and kept listening, fighting the urge to jump out and ask a million questions.

"I’m in contact with some people up north who’ve got new stuff that could work,” Reynolds scratched his white beard pensively. “They’ve had limited success too, but it could be helpful.”

“Us getting this vibranium could change the game,” Bernstein said emphatically. “I mean, can you imagine if the government realized we had this stuff? They’d pay us a lot of money to take it off our hands.”

“This is more than just money, Bernstein,” Reynolds said lowly. “If Wakanda found out that the States got hold of the one thing they’ve got on us? We’re back on top.”

“Holy shit,” Bernstein ran a hand through his oily blonde hair and grinned. “I went into the right profession, that’s for damn sure!”

“Yes, well, let’s just see what the other men have gathered in the past week and compare,” Reynolds told him. “Maybe there’s something right under our noses that we haven’t noticed.”

You clenched your jaw and stepped out from behind the corner. You squeezed a fist in one hand to prevent yourself from lashing out, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that the two men noticed you.

“Oh, L/N!” Reynolds gave a gasp of surprise and then a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting you to be out so late. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I don’t have a bedtime, sir, I’m a grown woman,” you said firmly. “But you’ve got about twenty years on me, so I’m confused as to why you’re not in bed either.”

Bernstein and Reynolds shared a glance.

“I’m also confused about all this I’m hearing about harvesting vibranium,” you said, not saying anything for a heartbeat to give them room to defend themselves. “I didn’t think that was what we were doing here. I also thought that as a team we were supposed to be, I don’t know, working together?”

“Look, L/N, you’ve got your own research, and so do we. We chose not to include you because you, for some reason, seemed very against delving deeper into this vibranium business,” Reynolds explained in a slow and calm voice as if he were speaking to a child. “This could be very lucrative for us and helpful for American forces.”

“You’re hiding shit from everyone,” you spat.

“No, I’m not,” Reynolds sneered. “Just from you.”

As if someone had pressed a button, all of a sudden Reynolds and Bernstein stood upright, their faces blank, eyes fogged over. You furrowed your brow and snapped in front of the former's face. A song began to echo the ship, as if someone was playing it on the loudspeakers, and you glanced around as if to see if someone else noticed it. 

You glanced up to the top deck, where a man stood next to a large scope. He was walking very uniformly, his face blank as well, and you watched as he continued to walk and walk and walk until--

You screamed bloody murder. The man walked until he reached the railing, where he hopped over it and simply threw himself off the ledge and into the depths of the ocean below. Breathing heavily, you whipped yourself around and watched as Reynolds, mesmerized by the song, began to walk towards the railing, Bernstein at his heels.

“No!” you cried, grabbing ahold of Reynolds’s arm to hold him back; he thrashed himself out of your grasp and climbed over the railing. You grappled at the back of his shirt, trying to tug him back, but he too, like a rag doll, plummeted into the crashing waves below. Bernstein was looming closer to the railing, and you wrapped your arms around his torso to hold him back.

You kept seeing men out of the corner of your eyes walk over the edge and throw themselves into the sea. You hadn’t realized it, but tears were pricking out of the corners of your eyes as you mustered up all your strength to try and hold Bernstein back from the edge.

“Snap-- out-- of-- it!” you cried, and brought one of your hands to slap him clean across the face. To no avail. Balling up a fist, you let go of him and stood between him and the railing; you wound up your arm and socked him clean across the face, to which he toppled onto his back. Blood was now seeping from his nose, but at least he wasn’t walking to his death. 

You squinted out into the sea, to try and figure out the source of the sound, but all you saw was the water and the midnight blue horizon. A groan from behind you alerted your attention; you dropped to your knees, shaking Bernstein awake.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cried. He wiped his nose, the blood staining the sleeve of his white shirt.

“You fuckin’ punched me!” Bernstein muffled, sitting upright and punching you straight across the face, hard enough for you to topple back onto the deck. He got to his feet, and as if nothing had happened, his face became blank again. You groaned, sitting upright and clutching your bleeding nose as he walked towards the railing again. 

“No, no-- stop!” you called out, getting to your feet, but it was too late; Bernstein climbed over the railing and fell face first into the ocean. You saw the tail of a dolphin in the distance as his body disappeared, and you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands, blood from your nose seeping through your fingers. “Jesus christ, what the fuck? What the actual fuck? What the fuck is happening?”

SPLASH! You drew your hands away from your face, and to your horror, saw the fins of sharks circling around the boat, the occasional tale of a dolphin, or the splashes of other marine life you couldn’t identify from so far away. The beating of your heart was so fast that at this rate you were sure you could die of a heart attack. Unable to take your eyes away from the sea of troubles below you, you were terrified to see the body of a whale rise close enough to the surface for you to see, and what shocked you the most was the outline of a person riding on its back. Your jaw dropped.

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the hatch that led to the inside of the ship. You ran at top speed across the creaky wooden floor until you reached your room, grabbing your bag that held your journal, your phone, your laptop, and your camera. A knock at your door made you jump and almost yelp.

“It’s just me,” it was Doctor Mishra, his hair disheveled and his eyes wild. He had on a large pair of earmuffs. “Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding!”

“No!” you practically screeched. “I just fucking watched the entire crew kill themselves!”

“Everyone?”

“Well, I don’t know about everyone,” you stammered, shoving anything and everything important to you into your bag. You grabbed the printed map of the gulf, with annotations and drawings and other kinds of markings, and rolled it quickly before shoving it into your bag. Picking up your taser, you blinked at it before shoving it into your bag, too. “Bernstein and Reynolds are gone, same with the rest of the crew on the deck, and the man from the mast, and the--”

“Slow down,” Mishra said to you, squatting down next to you and handing you his handkerchief for your nose. “There’s almost no signal, and the only ways we can send out an S.O.S. are either from the red flare device on the mast, or by the radio in the control room.”

“Okay,” you breathed, putting the straps of your bag over your shoulders and tightening it so it wouldn’t fall off, wiping your nose despite it continuing to bleed. “But... what if we get all weird too and try and walk off?”

“Here,” Mishra fumbled with something in his pocket: wired earbuds. “Plug them into your phone and blast some music. Should do the trick. My earmuffs worked pretty well.”

You grabbed the earbuds from him, untangling them before plugging them into your ears. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled a playlist and turned up the volume. Mishra beckoned you to follow him out the door, to which you complied, Tyler, the Creator’s “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?” blaring from the earbuds. Not the time, you thought, but you couldn’t afford to stand there a pick a good song for the occasion.

“I’ll head up to the mast,” you offered. “The control room is safer for you since it’s pretty contained.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “The mast is insanely high, you could get hurt.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s fine. I’ll send out the flares. Good luck, okay?”

“Take care of yourself,” Mishra told you firmly. “Meet back on the deck in ten minutes or so.”

You nodded and turned, sprinting back up onto the deck and opening the hatch. There were people on the deck, with beautiful feathered headdresses and jaded armor. You stared at them for a moment, but before they could see you, you ran behind one of the poles, trying to focus on getting up to the mast. The ladder was on the other side of the deck, leading you to inch your way around the center portion until you could find the ladder with your eyes.

There were tons of the soldiers across the deck, running around, whispering to one another. They all held massive, sharp spears, the jade and gold glinting under the pale moonlight. It reminded you of Namor, you thought, until you realized it was possible they were his people. As much as you trusted him, you didn’t trust the spears; you weren’t about to risk your life, and even Doctor Mishra’s life, just to reunite with the man from the sea. 

You bolted towards the ladder, grabbing the bars and climbing up it with no hesitation. Someone from below shouted something. You didn’t look down, moving at a speed you were sure you had never moved at before, until you reached the top level where the light machine and the red flare device were located. You practically threw yourself onto the bright red button, pressing it over and over again so tens of red flares shot up into the night sky.

Your earbuds were playing Childish Gambino, now, and despite it being one of your favorite songs of all time, you couldn’t find it in you to enjoy it. You kept pressing the button, red flare after red flare firing into the sky. People were shouting from below you, in a language you couldn’t decipher, especially with “Me and Your Mama” blasting into your ears.

You took a brief moment to glance at the deck, peering over the railing. Someone was climbing up the mast, the gold of their armor glinting under the light of the mast. You panicked, unzipped your bag and grabbed your taser. You ran to the other side of the table-like desk in the center of the platform and crouched behind it.

Feet adorned in golden-plated sandals planted onto the platform. You swallowed your breath, holding out your taser for when they rounded the desk. You cursed your earbuds; you were sure they could hear the Childish Gambino blasting from them. When they rounded the corner, you shot up and stuck out the taster onto their stomach, to which they convulsed and stumbled backwards. You pressed the red button a handful more times, but before you could act again, you felt a hand grab you by the neck and heard the cling of a blade being unsheathed.

“Suelta a arma (Drop your weapon),” the person holding you said firmly, to which you shakily dropped your taster. It clattered onto the wooden platform. The soldier let you go, your back towards the ladder, and with the shear pointed right at you, commanded, “Péeksik (Move).”

You couldn’t understand them, but you had enough context clues to understand what the soldier wanted. You caught a long enough glimpse at them to see a strange mask over their mouth and nose, water splashing around inside of it. You wanted to look for longer, but they nudged you with the butt of their spear, so without protest, you climbed down the ladder.

By the time you reached the floor of the deck, you barely had a moment of freedom before the soldier grabbed you again, holding you by the shoulders with their spear at your neck. They spoke to another soldier, the blade of the spear dangerously close to your skin. 

One of the soldiers wore a tall, orange-feathered headdress, with the same feathers donned around the necklace she wore that looked like it was made out of something woven. The soldier holding you shoved you forward, hard enough that you stumbled over your feet and almost fell flat on your face. As soon as you were released, the other soldiers circled you, spears pointed.

“Vacíe u póoj (Empty your bag),” she commanded. You blinked, not understand. At your silence, one of the soldiers poked your bag with their spear, nudging it off. You reluctantly shook it off of your shoulders, letting it fall onto the deck. “Je'e le! (Open it!)”

Another soldier poked it with your spear before another nudged you forwards. Lowering to your knees, you grabbed the back and opened the zipper pocket so the contents of your bag was visible. One of the soldiers snatched it from you, turning it upside down and shaking it so everything fell out; your map tumbled to the ground, along with your computer, camera, and journal. Cringing at the sound of your computer and camera dropping onto the deck, you made a move to stand, but the feeling of a spear pressed against the back of your neck kept you down.

The woman in the headdress, who you assumed was in charge, bent down and picked up the map, unrolling it. She ran her finger where you had outlined the hypoxic zone in red pen, the notes near the southern border of the United States, as well as the circle around your sister’s town in Yucatán.

“Talokan ma' u dibujado (Talokan is not drawn),” she said. In broken English, she read the notes and pronounced. “Hi-gh con-cen-tra-ti-on.”

You gulped, watching them interact with one another. The one behind you holding the spear to your neck said, “Ba'ax le kíins wa ma'? (Do we kill her, or not?)”

“Le ajawo' tu ya'alaj ma' u testigos (The king said no witnesses),” another soldier proclaimed. “Kíisa (Kill her).”

“Pa'atik! (Wait!)” one exclaimed, leaning down and grabbing your wrist. “Ilawil u x-oron (Look at her wrist).”

“Lelo' u Talokan (That is from Talokan),” another said, to which gasps and murmurs spun around the circle of soldiers. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment; the word Talokan was circling your brain. Namor. These were his people. Where was he? Why were they on your ship, killing your team? About to kill you?

“K'aaba' ti' le ajawo' (Call the king),” the woman said, to which one of the soldiers held up a large conch shell. After a beat of silence, the soldier brought it up to their lips and blew through it, a loud clarion call resounding through the air. After the call ended, the woman announced to the soldiers, “Leti' jach le ts'ook viva (She is the last alive).”

“Le ajawo' yéetel complacido (The king will be pleased),” a soldier said. 

“Y/N!” came someone's voice from above. Your heart lurched when you saw Doctor Mishra from atop one of the platforms where the radio room was. You internally cursed him for revealing his presence to the soldiers. The soldiers shouted something, and one moved to go after Mishra, but before he could, a figure shot through the air towards where the doctor was.

The figure landed on the platform next to Mishra, who, before he could run away, was struck in the head with the butt of a spear; Mishra fell to the floor, alive, but unconscious. The figure flew up into the air, circled the mast, before soaring towards where you and the soldiers were, landing with a hand on the deck.

The soldiers knelt, joining their hands at the wrists and opening their palms to him. The figure moved, the wings at his angles fluttering as he stood up. Your breath caught in your throat when he set eyes on you, breaking through the circle of soldiers to stand before your kneeling figure.

“You,” was all you could breathe when Namor stared down at you, his spear gripped in his hand. His hair was slicked back with the water of the ocean, his eyes narrowed in one of the deadliest glares you had ever witnessed. A chill went up your spine.

“I gave you that because I trusted you,” Namor poked the bracelet on your wrist with the tip of his spear. Your hands were shaking now, tears pearling at the corners of your eyes. “And here you are... harvesting vibranium. Just as you promised me you would not do.”

“I... you didn’t read my letter?” you stammered out. He was scaring you. There were drops of saltwater on his eyelashes, those ebony eyes of his making you simultaneously melt with adoration and freeze with fear. “I thought... they... they lied to me, they said we were just finding the concentration, I didn’t know they were harvesting it here--”

“You lied to me,” Namor said slowly with composure. His jaw clenched. Something in his eyes changed. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t,” you were crying now. “I didn’t. I promise, K’uk’ulkan--”

“You do not deserve to call me that,” he gave a dry scoff. He gulped. He wasn’t just angry, you saw; he was upset. Devastated. “You are now an enemy.”

“Look at the map!” you urged him, scrambling to find it. “Look at my notes! I didn’t-- it’s not even near Yucatán, it’s-- it’s just where the concentration was higher, I swear--”

“High Concentration,” the woman from before said, handing the map to Namor. He took it, unrolling it and eyeing the area you had outlined.

“What is this?” Namor asked you, not meeting your eyes. You sniffed, swallowing the frog in your throat.

“It’s-- it’s just where I found the high concentration of vibranium in the first place. I thought we were just supposed to go back to that area, in the northern Gulf, to test the concentration, and that’s what I thought we were researching! That’s what my-- that’s my project. My work.”

“Your project,” Namor repeated. 

“Remember?” you practically begged. “Remember how I spent all that time working and you stopped me from getting data? That’s what I was researching! That’s what I’m doing here! I didn’t know that fucking Bernstein and Reynolds were trying to harvest vibranium! I had no idea!”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

You could barely catch your breath. “I-- I don’t know. My map, my computer, my journal, my goddamn phone, everything’s in there. Take it all, I don’t care. Read everything I’ve ever written, you’ll see!”

Namor bent down and picked up your journal, flipping open to the first page and starting to read. Your knees were starting to hurt from how long you’ve been sitting on them. The silence was deafening, watching him flip through the journal. He read every single word, and you tried to calm your breathing as you watched his face change as he continued to flip.

When he reached the last page, he closed the journal and held it by his side. His glare was gone; he was frowning now, refusing to look at your face. Glancing up at the soldiers, he lifted a hand, to which they lowered their spears away from you and backed up. Namor extended a hand to you as if to help you to your feet. You eyed it hesitantly, but seeing the grimace on his face, you took it and stood.

He didn’t say anything. It was like he couldn’t. He avoided your eyes, and without a word, he turned around towards the railing, resting his forearms on it with a sigh. You were still shaking, but as your fear subsided, you felt the anger bubbling up in your stomach. A drop of blood fell from your nose, touching your top lip.

“You killed everyone,” you muttered, wiping the blood off of your lip. He turned his head and said nothing. “Your people almost killed me.”

“I will do anything for my people,” he told you carefully. His voice was wavering. “If they are threatened, I do not care what it takes. I will protect them.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You walked up beside him, resting your arms on the railing, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his chest rising and falling with a quick cadence, and despite not being able to hear his fast breathing, you could see he was becoming flustered.

“I pray you can find it in you to understand my motives,” he continued. You, again, said nothing. You could barely form words, your mouth dry. There was something warm on the back of your neck; you brought your hand up to touch it, only to find fresh blood on the pads of your fingers. The spears had cut you. Namor glanced over at your bloodied hand, brows twitching. He reached towards you, “Allow me to--”

You flinched back. You couldn’t look at him. He dropped his hands and bowed his head, staring at the waters below. They were calm, now, the sharks and dolphins no longer splashing about. That whale you had seen had gone, too. You willed your rapid beating heart to cease, wishing your chest would stop twisting and turning.

“I get it,” you murmured, using the collar of your shirt to wipe the last bit of blood from your nose. Namor’s head twitched up, eyes on you in less than a second. “Gotta protect your people, just like you were when you wouldn’t let me take those samples. But this... this is... what I saw...”

“If I had known you weren’t apart of it, I would never have let--”

“I wish you had trusted me,” you sniffled, finally looking at him. His ebony eyes were wider than you had ever seen them, brown brows tilted upwards in a form of desperation you would have never picture them having. He was beautiful. “My letter, I thought... I thought I explained it.”

“You did,” Now that Namor had caught your eyes, he didn’t dare look away in fear of losing them again. “You did, I... jumped to conclusions.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you repeated, breaking the eye contact. You clenched your jaw. “So you killed my entire team.”

Namor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second, unable to find proper words. “You have to understand where I’m coming from, here. These ships harvesting our vibranium-- Talokan’s vibranium-- would put us at risk. It could lead to the end of my people.”

“I know,” you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your head on your hands where they rested against the railing. The ocean’s breeze struck at your forehead, cooling your skin and blowing your hair off your face. Namor didn’t say anything, but you could feel him looming closer. You hid your face from him.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him over the breeze. “Please look at me.”

After a prolonged second, you lifted your head from your arms, the breeze chilling the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t bear it.

“Take me home,” you said quietly. He blinked. “Please.”

“To... to Yucatán?” he inquired, a layer of hope underneath his words.

“No,” something was twisting in your chest. “To Miami.”

“...right now?”

“Yes.”

Namor didn’t move, just staring at you with those puppy dog eyes that made you want to wrap your arms around him and pull him into you. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Please, Y/N, we have to--”

“Yes, I am sure,” you said pointedly, despite the wobbling of your voice. “It’s not like there’s anything for me to do here, anyways. Everyone’s dead.”

Namor raised an arm, and the female Talokanil soldier from earlier came to his side. He muttered something to her in his native language; you hadn’t bothered to listen, for one because you didn’t speak a word, but for two because for some reason, hearing his voice was making it difficult to hold your ground.

“Come,” he said to you, holding his hand out. You glanced over at him; he began to rise from the ground, wings on his ankles keeping him suspended in the air. You glanced at his hand. “Do you trust me?”

You felt your lower lip tremble. 

“I don’t know,” you said, grabbing his hand anyways. He frowned, his eyes more glassy than ever. You wondered if he would cry. He pulled you up, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you tight on his side, his other arm holding his spear.

In a flash, you were soaring towards the horizon, the cold, salty air whipping you in the face as he flew. His skin was cold against yours, and despite your anger, you pushed yourself against him, wondering when the next time you’d feel him would be.

The gold of his jewelry pressed against your skin, and you stared at the way in glinted under the pale moonlight. You stared at him, the jade in his septum, the point of his ears, the bronze of his skin. There were tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, prevented from rolling down his face and simply flying away from the force of the wind.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were flying. The shore was near, you could see the lights of the city as you approached it. You slowed, your hair relaxing from the absence of the harsh wind. Scrunching your nose to get some feeling back in it, your feet skimmed the top layer of the ocean as he brought you to the sand and let you go.

You dusted your self off, fixing your head and allowing yourself to adjust to being back on the ground. You had gotten dizzy from the flight, but came to it in less than a minute. You glanced at where his hand still held his spear. When he saw you look at it, he lowered it without hesitation. You finally laid eyes on Namor. The tears from earlier had fallen onto his cheek. 

“Do you fear me?” he asked.

“I fear what you’re capable of,” you muttered. “Because I don’t think you’ll ever trust me.”

“I trust you,” he breathed. You frowned. “I trust you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he insisted, falling to his knees in front of you. His ebony hair was partially covering his eyes, but the wind suddenly pushed it back so you could see his face. Your eyes widened, gaze lowering to where he sat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I trust you. Fully.”

You could barely believe the sight before you; Namor, on his knees. You were cruel, you thought. You were still crying. 

“I just need some time,” you said, feeling your heart change at the sight of him. His eyes kept flickered around your face, to one eye, to your nose, to your lips, to the other eye, back to your lips. “Okay?”

“Time?” he repeated, nodding, knees digging into the sand, wings on his ankles fluttering a bit. “Yes, that’s-- as much time as you want.”

“Okay,” you sighed. Namor slowly rose to his feet, reminding you of the way he towered over you. He didn’t let his eyes leave yours, as if he were trying to tell you something tacitly. He looked at your lips. 

He lifted his hands towards your face, and when you didn’t flinch away, he cupped both of your cheeks with his palms. You closed your eyes, heart thumping. 

“Whenever you are ready,” he began, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone. “I’ll be here. All right?”

“Mm-hm,” you said, letting yourself look at him. He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Good-bye,” he said. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline so tenderly you thought you might start sobbing right then and there. Before you could say anything more, he soared up into the air, flying away and disappearing into the midnight sky. You wiped at your cheeks, ridding the tears, and with a sigh, you turned around and made for your apartment.

---

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[namorslutfanfiction]

Maybe like SHIELD agent reader with Namor for #7?

You had been called in from your first day of vacation. You couldn't even get a full day off without SHIELD falling apart it seemed. You hadn't even been briefed properly before you were shuffled onto a jet to an undisclosed location. They had captured a 'person of interest' that seemed to want to speak to you directly. Why you? Who knows, because you didn't.

10 successful missions, working with the next generation of Avengers, and taking down a multidimensional traveler had burnt you out and you were really not in the mood to deal with whatever was waiting at the end of this plane ride. You looked out the window as you tried to wrack your brain in search of who could be a SHIELD asset off the coast of Mexico.

You landed on top of a spartan building and led down deep into the bowels of it. You wondered when SHIELD would have more inconspicuous out postings for their international holdings. You didn't doubt that SHIELD had enough international power to keep this base a secret, but you doubted that the locals felt safe. You reminded again of why you had joined SHIELD in the first place, to change how they operated. Needless to say you hadn't been all that successful so far. You shook your thoughts away as you followed the agents. The depth at which they led you made you nervous. This much security meant that whoever SHIELD had caught was powerful.

You finally made it to what had to be the bottom floor and were led to a set of double doors where Nick Fury stood. He nodded to you, "Sorry to cut your vacation short, but you were summoned specifically by name."

A dry chuckle slipped past your lips, "Short is one way to put it. I hadn't even been gone a full day and my phone was ringing. I knew I should have chucked it into the ocean before I left the base."

"We still would have found you. Maybe a helicopter on your front lawn would be a bit distracting but I'm sure you would come running," Fury deadpanned.

"I'd shoot your pilot if they landed on my roses. So maybe it is better that I kept my phone. Are you going to tell me who is 'summoning' me or are you going to keep me on the edge of my seat?" You prodded as Fury led the way through 4 doors deep of additional security doors.

"You'll see. I'm interested to learn how he knows of you. I was under the impression that only the Wakandans and a select few, not including you, knew he even existed," Fury raised an eyebrow at you. But you weren't paying attention. Your mind was racing trying to connect the dots. Someone only the Wakandans and a few others knew about. Someone that knew you?

The doors parted and your eyes widened as the tanned figure in the glass cage turned. You followed Fury but stopped short while the Agent continued closer to the glass. The doors behind you shut with a hiss as Fury turned to you expectantly. Your eyes were glued to the brown ones of the Talokanil King as he smirked at you.

“This is what I was called for? You?” You said in a hushed disbelieving tone. Namor didn't reply as his eyes roamed your figure from head to toe. You turned to Fury, "You didn't capture him, you know. This wouldn't hold him. He's here willingly."

"I am well aware of that. But it helps the others feel safer when we put on the façade of locking him behind steal. So are you going to explain to me how you know Namor of Talokan or will I have to ask Shorts over here?" Fury crossed his arms.

You didn't speak as you looked between the SHIELD agent and the regal man who was still smirking at you behind the glass.

Fury sighed, "Normally I would be happy to see you so tight lipped. Alright, your majesty, how do you know my agent?"

Namor stepped closer to the glass, still locking eyes with you. "You don't want to tell him do you?"

You didn't reply. Fury glanced between the two of you, starting to get agitated. "What do you want with her, Namor? We all know you are here willingly, but why?"

Namor ignored him and addressed you, "It's time to go home now, wife."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Thank you for playing

[creamecafe]

Hello! ((＼(^_^)／))

I have a K'uk'ulkan request!

Can we get some sleepy ramblings from him? Like, him and the reader are going to sleep, and he's saying some incomprehensible, random, kingly duty nonsense, and the reader is just finding it hilarious. Just trying to holding in their laughter while he's just going on and on.

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 | 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝

Summary: It's nothing new that Namor talks in his sleep and while you sleep next or by him you hear it all. But one night he talks in his sleep and things are hilarious.

Pairing: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x GN!Reader

Word Count: ???

Warnings: none just major fluff

a/n: tysm for requesting I hope you enjoy it! Almost my first Namor fic AHH! Also the title may or may not have been inspired by Harry Styles song 'Late Night Talking' I couldn't think of any titles that would fit ok?

You and Namor have always slept by each other as long as you both can remember.

You guys would cuddle up together in your big bed and sleep holding each other. But you notice that while you guys are sleeping, Namor would talk or ramble in his sleep.

You sometimes joke to Namor about it but he denies saying he doesn't talk in his sleep. Until one night.

After a long day of looking over Talokan as both King(s)/Queen, you guys decided it was best to go to sleep. You both said goodnight to each other

"Goodnight my queen/king." Namor kisses you sweetly on the lips.

"Goodnight my love." You kiss him back.

You both pulled back and smile at each other. You get into your shared bed and cuddle with each other. Namor started rubbing circles on your back and you started falling asleep quickly. You love it when he rubs circles on your back.

A few hours later, you guys are sleeping soundly and peacefully. Then suddenly you hear talking out of nowhere. You get up rubbing your eye to see who was talking this late.

Then you recognize the voice. It was Namor's voice. You look to your right to see him sleeping, knocked out cold and just talking whatever incomprehensible nonsense is coming out of his mouth.

"Imperius Rex! Rise Talokan! Rise Talokan!"

You just laid in bed looking at him while trying to hold on your laughter to not wake him up. But to your efforts, he continues.

"I am king of Talokan, and you will not disrespect my partner! Imperius Rex!"

After a while you could hold it in anymore. You started laughing and quickly covered your mouth. Namor woke up to your laugh. He turned to you confused why you were awake.

"Is everything alright Y/N? Why are you awake? And why are you laughing?"

It took you a minute to calm yourself down to explain everything. Even when you were talking you had a smile on your face.

"Y-you were talking in your sleep Namor."

"I was?"

"Yes"

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were Namor you weren't saying king duties in your sleep and bunch of nonsense."

"What did I say?"

"Oh you were saying a lot of things. You kept saying Rise Talokan, imperius Rex, and saying to not disrespect me." You smiled.

Namor looks at you confused about his sleep talking but can't help but smile at you because of your expression.

"Well I guess what you say is true about me sleep talking. I just thought you were making it up."

"No why would I do that?" You laugh and Namor laughs with you.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted your sleep."

"It's ok," You reach your hand out to play with his curly dark hair and move down to cup his face.

"I don't mind losing a bit of sleep because of you."

Namor smiles at this. He just loves you so much. You both went back to sleep to cuddle with each other. It's needless to say the next morning you would nonstop make fun of Namor of his sleep talk.

Namor would be annoyed but can't be mad at you because he loves you and you do the same with him.

[redskull199987]

Coming Home

Namor x female!reader

Word count:0.9k

Warnings:none

Summary: after waiting what felt like an eternity, your Lover finally returns to you...

Masterlist

I let my feet dangle from the porch, as the sun slowly started to set. A necklace was resting between my fingers, a necklace he had given me. And I hadn't seen him since. He promised to return and yet, here I sat, waiting and waiting for him.

With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet. I was probably overthinking. He was a busy man, he had an entire city to protect after all. And I admired him for that. He loved his people with such passion, it was honorable. 

My eyes lingered on the ocean, before I turned around to look at my little cottage. He had helped me build it. Him and Namora and Attuma. I always remembered it with a smile. How Namora had helped me with the interior design and how Attuma had to flex every second about how much material he could carry and how fast he assembled things. Namor had always scolded him for that, but I was thankful. Without them, it wouldn't have been possible for me to live this near the ocean. It wouldn't been possible to see Namor frequently. 

And now, I hadn't seen him in weeks. On the news they were always talking about Wakanda. They were mourning they're recently lost queen. They didn't say what she died from, but I had a feeling that my Lover was somehow involved in this conflict.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shores interrupted my train of thoughts and I quickly spinned around. I couldn't believe my eyes. Speaking of the devil, there he was. Just standing there inbetween the waves, looking at me. As I noticed the faint scratch marks on his face, I knew that he somehow got involved with Wakanda.

I quickly made my way towards him, stepping into the water and wading towards him.

"Namor", I said, as soon as I reached him.

He only smiled and raised his hand to my face:"In yakunaj (My Love)"

I couldn't help myself as a sob escaped my lips. I threw my arms around him, pulling him close. I heard Namor laugh, as he wrapped his arms around my midddle, spinning us around.

"I missed you", he smiled.

"I missed you too!", I yelled as he stumbled and we fell into the water.

I chuckled as he helped me sit up. The water wasn't deep, it was only up to our waists. I took the moment to inspect his face. He was grinning at me. I saw Love and Joy in his eyes. But my gaze wandered down to the marks on his cheek and lifted my hand to softly touch the healing skin. Namor closed his eyes at my touch.

"Who did this to you?", I asked quietly. Namor sighed and raised his hand. He closed his fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand down into his. 

"It doesn't matter", he said,"What matters is, that I returned to you."

"What about Attuma?", I asked,"And Namora?Are they okay?"

Namor smiled about my questions. I knew that he had always adored the fact that I cared so much about his people.

"They are fine.", He finally said.

I sighed relieved and slightly squeezed his hand:"Thank you for returning to me. These times must be hard for the people of Talokan. It's probably not easy to find some free time."

"I will always return to you, In reina(my Queen).",he smiled and leaned his forehead against mine,"I will always come home"

I looked at him perplexed:"Talokan is your-"

Namor chuckled and interrupted me with a quick peck on my lips.

"Home is not the Place where I reside, Jats'uts(beautiful), It's the people that I love. And you are one of them."

I couldn't believe my ears. I was too stunned to speak, I just looked at him with my mouth agape.

"You are my home", He mumbled with a smile. His hand rested on my chin, as he pulled me closer,"And I will always come back to you."

I looked at him, Adoration in my eyes, while tears rolled down my cheeks. 

"No one has ever said something like this before...",I mumbled,"I have never met someone like you before, Namor...K'uk'ulkan."

His gaze softened upon hearing his birthname. and I felt him pull me closer to him.

"You are my everything", I finally said,"I love you."

"I love you", Namor mumbled, as he softly wiped away my tears,"More than anything"

"The sun's going down", I said after we sat in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other.

"We should go inside", Namor agreed. I yelped, as he suddenly lifted me up bridal style. My arms wrapped aound his neck, as he started to walk towards the cottage.

"You know, I could've walked myself", I smiled, as he climbed the stairs of the porch.

"Isn't there this tradition?",he only asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows:"What tradition?"

He only smiled, as he kicked the door opened with his foot and carried me over the doorstep.

"Oh, That Tradition."

[loelysian]

marmoris (chapter 3)

(n.) the shining surface of the ocean

chapter 1 chapter 2

word count: 4.2k

summary: after a dangerous rescue mission led by namor, you safely make it back to talokan. things should be alright between the two of you. after all, you’re home safe because of him. why aren’t they?

note: since this one shot was written by me, a jewish arab person, it is hinted that y/n is also from those cultures but if you are not, that is fine. it is never explicitly stated and i don't plan on doing so in future chapters. feel free to apply your own experiences to the scenarios i've written about. please keep in mind that i am not fluent in yucatec so i've used a translator for any scenes in talokan. if you find i've upset you, please comment and let me know so i can fix it and apologize. i do not mean to offend anybody. fair warning, there are kissing scenes in this chapter so if that is not your cup of tea, i wouldn't read this. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: near-death experiences, talk of death, mentions of wounds that are not for the faint of heart and violence.

Someone had cut into the ship—that much you knew as the red, angry blinking lights and repetitive ‘warning: someone has breached the landing pad’ rang in the cockpit loud and clear. Panicking, Shuri tried everything she could to keep the ship afloat since you would be making direct contact with land instead of water when it inevitably crashed. Distantly in the air, you smelt what you thought might be smoke as you noticed the entire right side of the ship had been cut into, leaving a dangerous opening where the wing should have been. Muyal had her eyes closed, the tips of her fingers a dangerous white as she gripped onto the edge of her seat tightly, praying you would stay in the air.

Okoye and Shuri were shouting but you could barely hear them over the beeping. You had no idea what to do as you’d never so much as touched Wakandan tech in your life, but you decided to ask.

“Do you need any help?” you yelled, leaning against the back of Shuri’s seat as the ship began to tilt to the side. Bad move. You quickly sat back down and buckled yourself in, trying your hardest not to move.

“Just stay still!” Shuri begged as she pressed numerous buttons on the control panel to no avail. Nothing seemed to be working and you knew the ship was going down soon with you and everyone in it still inside.

You dared a glance out of the front of the ship and noticed Namor had vanished which worried you more than it should have. Had he been the one to damage your ship? That couldn’t be. He was right in front of your very eyes when the alarm system had gone off.

Ramonda and Riri seemed to be talking to each other in a hurry just as Shuri and Okoye were until you saw him.

From underneath the balcony of the palace, you watched as Namor flew up toward the cracked window with his winged feet, throwing three water-bombs directly toward Ramonda and Riri. The explosion had been bigger than you were anticipating and the last thing you heard before the four of you were emerged in water was Shuri’s screams.

Somewhere in the mess of the ship crashing which had effectively thrown you into a giant torpedo-like wave, slamming you against numerous shards of glass from the window and broken parts from the damaged ship, you’d lost your water-mask.

You ended up on barren, dry land several feet from the water but because your body was still in the process of healing itself from the several deep wounds you’d received, you couldn’t drag yourself into the water to catch your breath. You felt like a beached whale and were aware the air you were desperately trying to inhale sounded like you were inches from death.

There hadn’t been a time before in your life where you were almost certain you were going to die. You weren’t sure why you felt so calm—at ease. The finality of it all normally scared you, but as you laid on the sandy shore of Wakanda, you felt at peace. Since the sun was setting, you mustered enough strength to position yourself on your back so you could stare at the sky. You could still see the black smoke from the shipwreck and somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought of Shuri, Muyal and Okoye, hoping they were okay—that they survived. You could feel the wind brushing against your near-dry body much like a sea of kelp and listened as three birds circled you from above, cawing distantly. In a way, it helped ground you.

You weren’t sure if you’d healed yourself completely or the pain was too much for your body to process but everything from your neck down was numb. Maybe you’d been paralyzed from the impact of the fall. You barely registered the fact that you were crying, a tear from the corner of your eye cascading down your face like a lone raindrop on a glass window. Namor was the only person you were thinking about now—his sweet brown eyes, strong, calloused hands moving up and down your body, the sound of his laughter which you found you’d do just about anything to hear, the way he cared for you like no one else could. Your vision was beginning to dim but you continued to watch as the sky turned an orangey-pink, the sun dipping below the horizon.

Since your lungs lacked the air you so desperately needed, you felt the strong urge to cough but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Somewhere on your left side, you were beginning to regain feeling—your nerves were working again, and you were almost certain you’d been pierced by something as you were falling from the sky—pierced by something deep. You could feel the shards of glass in your hand as you tried to detach the bracelet Namor had given you—you felt the urge to hold it close one last time. It was a struggle, but eventually you got it off of your wrist with minimal pain. It was as beautiful as it was the first time you’d seen it. It made you think of the first time you’d met Namor—he had been wearing the very bracelet you were holding underneath his lab coat. It made you think of your wedding night and how close he held you after the ceremony concluded, promising to take care of you for the rest of his life. It reminded you of Talokan and how much you cared for your people.

At the tips of your toes, you began to feel the tide rolling in, the warm water inviting you back home, but you were far too weak to move, let alone stand. You had already accepted your fate and as much as it pained you to leave Namor, there was nothing you could do.

On your right, you could hear people shouting to each other in Yucatec but brushed it off, thinking you were likely hallucinating from the lack of air to your brain.

The water was getting closer to you, though, washing up and down your legs like kisses, sweet and warm until it reached your arms. It was calm and inviting. To your right, you noticed an octopus doing its best to lift debris off of your legs while a school of crabs worked to cut the net that had tangled around your shoulders. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you smiled knowing Namor had sent them for you.

When you were in the ocean, you were able to heal yourself a lot faster. Although the salt from the water stung, you could feel your body working to heal itself thanks to the vibration-infused liquid, pushing the glass out of your hands and closing up the gash in your side. Once the water was up to your neck, you prepared for complete submersion and instinctively held your breath despite being able to breathe underwater. As soon as you were completely underwater, your eyes opened and you gave the orange-red octopus a pat on its head as it worked as fast as it could. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you tried to recall why you were here—your body was in shock though you weren’t aware of it and suddenly, as you noticed the blood on the surface of the water, you remembered how you’d gotten here. Shuri. The explosion.

Everything came back to you in a burst of energy and immediately, you sat up in a panic before you swam as fast as you could to check on Shuri—you had to make sure she was okay. She had to be. She had to.

As soon as you got to the shipwreck, both seats were empty and void—nobody was there—but what caught your eye was the fact that Shuri’s seat was crushed. You dove into the water in search of her, hoping there was a clue—anything at all that told you where she might be but there was nothing.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms came up from behind you and held onto you, tightly. From his hands alone and the jewelry that adorned his wrists, you knew they belonged to Namor. Oh, he had come back for you. He’d made sure you were okay. At once, you turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders, the water giving you a boost as your lips intertwined with his. It was messy and desperate, your teeth colliding with his but damnit, you didn’t care—you wanted, no, needed to be close to him—to feel him as he sighed against you, his breath stuttering when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.

It reminded you of the very first time the two of you had kissed. It had been a rush of emotions, a sense of urgency, but something like love was what felt most prominent to you. He’d taken you to a beach in Carlsbad, California—one that you hadn't been to before—and you’d climbed down the rocky cliff together, hands entangled, watching as the beds of kelp washed up on shore. That evening, he’d made you a picnic and a beautiful bed of seafood with the freshest lobster you’d ever had. You could tell by the way he’d been acting that he had something to tell you—he kept stealing glances every time he thought you weren’t looking, a soft smile resting on his face. For the first time since you’d met him, Namor looked at ease. He seemed content. You’d dared to ask him.

“What was all this for?” it hadn’t been the execution you’d been hoping for and you found yourself cringing at what you’d said, but Namor’s smile only grew.

“Sometimes, I want to appreciate you—to let you know that you’re the most important person in the world to me, but I don’t know how to say it, so I show it instead.” and you thought that was a pretty good answer but sometimes, you found yourself confused as to why he’d chosen you. Why he spent his free evenings with you. Why he laughed at your jokes and watched your favorite movies and listened to your favorite songs and tried everything you liked.

Suddenly, you'd found yourself overwhelmed with an unfamiliar sensation that brewed deep in your stomach, something akin to want.

“Can I kiss you?” you had asked him that night. You still remembered the date, the song that had been playing and the way his deep, brown eyes lit up at your question.

At his shy nod, you surged forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shut your eyes. With the candles glowing beside you, the moment felt magical. You found that Namor was a passionate kisser. He loved to make you feel. You stayed pressed against him even after the sun set behind the trees, cuddling into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, whispering words of love and adornment into your hair as you felt yourself dozing off. That night, when he was certain you’d fallen asleep, in a hushed tone, he promised aloud that he’d never leave you. What he didn’t know was that you’d been awake.

Today, as Namor held you in his arms like you were the most fragile thing he’d ever picked up, he whispered into your hair;

“Ma'atech asab a dejaré, in eek'e' (i will never leave you again, my star).” much like the night your souls had connected for the very first time, he spoke to you of promises you knew would never be broken.

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to leave with him, to head back to Talokan but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go just yet. You couldn’t leave Wakanda without seeing Shuri alive. You didn’t even need to talk to her—you just wanted a sign—something to know she was safe.

“We have to go, in yakunaj (my love).” you were squirming in his arms but his grip was persistent. In the back of your mind, you knew he was right. If you were to stay, you would be dead by sunrise, but Shuri was your friend. You felt you had to know she was okay—that she’d survived the shipwreck.

“No!” you screamed, “I have to make sure she’s safe!” you were no match against Namor and eventually the two of you were pulled deeper and deeper in the water. If there was one thing he knew about you, you rarely gave up. You kept fighting, even if your arms were burning from the excursion of energy your body didn't have.

“Who, in yakunaj (my love).” he spoke calmly, his words calculated. Namor had no doubt you were in shock, especially since you’d nearly just died so he treated you with care, demanding his army to wait until he was there in person before they retrieved you. He had to do it himself.

“The princess! Shuri! She- she was on the ship with me. I don’t know if they survived,” you cried, but you were exhausted, the weight of what had just happened taking a toll on you. You collapsed against your husband's chest, falling into his arms as your eyes closed in unison. Namor pushed a piece of hair out of your face, kissing the top of your head slowly before he signaled for his men to follow him.

He was taking you home.

You dreamt of San Diego from an angle you weren’t as familiar with anymore. Of surfing, remembering the feeling in your stomach as you paddled toward shore, knowing you’d caught a wave. Of your parents and their smiles and the drives the three of you would take together every weekend. Every Friday when you got home from school, your small backpack had already been packed for the trip. You and your parents never had a final destination in mind. You just drove wherever you wanted to. Since you lived two hours from the coast, oftentimes you’d end up in a small beach town with family-owned businesses and vacant houses, all vacation homes waiting for summer when the owners would come visit for a week. You always proposed to camp on the beach but your parents were more keen on staying in a hotel that overlooked the water instead. You couldn’t find it in yourself to complain and on nights when you couldn’t fall asleep, you snuck out onto the balcony and took the stairs by two so you could get to the water.

The beach at night had always been peaceful to you. Since you were the only person there, you could walk as far and long as you wanted but you always made sure to return before sunrise so your parents wouldn’t worry. They always knew where you had been though since there was a sandy trail that led to your bed.

In the mornings, you remembered hating how long your parents would take to get ready for the day. You practically lived in your swimsuit during the weekend and you tried your best not to grow impatient as your parents sipped their coffee on the balcony, watching the waves crash onto shore.

“Mom,” you drew out. “What if I went by myself and swam for a bit while you guys ate breakfast and watched tv.” you had only been seven at the time, barely tall enough to reach the sink to wash your hands but you were convinced you were grown up enough to do this.

“Y/n,” your mother held you close to her chest. “You cannot do everything alone,” what she’d said had stuck with you for most of your life.

You were a rather independent person but whenever you were growing overwhelmed, you reminded yourself of what your mother said.

She always knew how to make you feel better.

When you woke up, you were in Namor’s bed by yourself. You tried to sit up, but your side was still aching from the wound you’d gotten back in Wakanda. That’s right. It was all coming back to you now. You remembered Nakia taking you with her, joking with Riri and sharing stories with Shuri by the water. Shuri. Something akin to failure stung in your chest. You still weren’t sure if she’d made it out alive. You sighed in frustration, staring up at the drawing-adorned ceiling Namor painted during his free time. You were still exhausted from the battle and thought another nap couldn’t hurt, so you shut your eyes and let sleep take over.

When you woke up, you were alone once more, but the side of your stomach was feeling better so you decided you were going to find your husband and get some answers. You had many questions after all.

Wrapping a blanket around your small frame, you headed out into the hallway and started swimming to where you thought he might be though you ran into a small crowd of people who obviously weren’t expecting your presence. Their faces lit up and each of them bowed before one of the men in the front shouted for everyone to hear;

“Le Reina táan u yaajal! Alegrar u (the queen is awake! rejoice)!” he cried, arms in the air as everyone began to clap. Despite being in a hurry, you smiled in their direction and pressed your hand to the man's shoulder. Maybe he knew where Namor was.

“Yuumbo'otik Nib óolal, chéen ba'ale' yaan jump'éel k'áat chi' (thank you, thank you but i do have a question).” you spoke in yucatec. The man nodded with a smile.

“Je'el ba'alake' in Reina. Je'el ba'alake' (anything my queen. anything).” you thanked him and rose your voice slightly, hoping other passerbyers might know the answer if he did not.

“A wojel wáaj tu'ux yaan k'uj ' túun Ku'uk'ulkan (do you know where k’uk’ulkan is)?” you asked him. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Mencionó junp'éel múuch'tambale' le tu chi' u asistir bejla'e'. Kun yaantal ichil áaktuno'ob (he mentioned a meeting he had to attend to. he should be in the caves)” the man replied happily. You nodded to him in thanks and took off toward the caves, hoping you’d find a spare water-mask on the way.

Hidden in the shadows of the cave, Namor, Namora and Attuma discussed the war they’d started with Wakanda. Partly, it had been because of your kidnapping. Namor had no idea what their plans were with you and he’d refused to let you become a spoil of war so he’d gone after you himself with his most trusted fighters. Since one of his guards had also been killed during Shuri’s rescue and someone he knew he couldn’t trust knew of Talokan’s location, he had no choice but to attack. It had been many years since he’d gone to battle and he’d never faced an enemy before that harbored vibranium like he and his people did. He’d believe Talokan was the sole nation with access to it for many years before the idea of a vibranium detector was created. That was why he’d convinced himself he had to kill the scientist. If she possessed such knowledge and the likes of the government were after it, he couldn’t let them discover his home.

As their ruler, he refused to put them in harm's way.

Namor knew the size of your heart and what your reaction would be if he’d told you of his plans so he didn’t. Though the risk of it spilling out to you was strong, he’d foolishly thought he’d had it under control until you were kidnapped in the midst of his meeting with Ramonda. Something he couldn’t place was telling him that meeting with her was a bad idea, but he couldn’t decipher why. Maybe it had been because he’d had the scientist and that he’d given her strict instructions to only blow the conch shell if she’d had her, but he went anyway. Attuma told him she likely knew about Shuri being missing and that he had the upper hand—she would want to bargain.

That was why he’d gone.

When he’d gotten back, you’d been gone and he couldn’t help but scream out, cursing himself for allowing it to happen. He’d blamed himself—how could he not? He knew how curious you were. That you were going to get to the bottom of things one way or another. You were a scientist after all, it was in your nature to research—to study the problem at hand no matter the risk.

That was why he felt he owed you now—the protection was already his to give to you once you’d spoken your vows to him but as he watched you breathe in and out in your shared room, tracing the side of your face, he was never going to let anybody hurt you ever again. You were his and he was yours, the binding of your love written in the stars—something nothing could break. He loved you and it scared him. He felt like a child again, so naive yet he had been alive for many, many years. He felt safe with you as silly as it sounded. Someone people often thought of as a god felt safe with a mortal, someone he’d met on land who, despite what he thought, made him feel complete.

Namor wasn’t sure if he believed in past lives, but he was certain the two of you had loved each other once before. People often told him he stared at you like you hung the stars, that in ways, you had. Where he had been serious, you made him smile. Where he had been rough, you held him in between your hands and loved him. You let him be a person, not the great ruler his people regarded him as. He let himself be yours.

He hadn’t been expecting you to burst through one of the many pools in the cave, a blanket adorning your shoulders as well as the pointed-ear jewelry you had been given as a means of respect for him, a way to prove you were queen. Despite himself, Namor smiled and watched as you pulled yourself out of the water, strapping the water-mask onto your face.

Namora and Attuma noticed you and bowed where they were with knowing smiles on their faces.

“In ujo' (my moon), what brings you here?” he asked, wearing the same look of fondness he often had in conversations pertaining to you.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” you said, crossing your arms. You tried to remain strong as you hated confrontation, something Namor knew. He rose a brow, eyeing you curiously.

“For what?” he asks you.

“What did Riri do?” you knew what she’d told you was likely true, but you wanted to hear it from him—you wanted to hear his side.

He looked conflicted but as his wife and queen, you felt you deserved to know the truth.

“No more keeping secrets.” you pushed, hoping he’d give you an answer. Finally, he exhaled and led you to a corner far away from Namora and Attuma so the two of you could have some privacy.

You were surprised when he leaned in to kiss your forehead, but you shut your eyes, basking in the attention. He was a head taller than you so you found you had to stand on your toes so he could reach you. He’d always found humor in the fact that he was taller than you.

“What do you want to know, in yakunaj (my love).” he whispered, his breath hot against your face. The tips of your noses were threatening to touch, brushing against each other as he carded his hand through your hair. Like always, you leaned into the touch, pressing your hand against the back of his.

“What you wanted with Riri Williams.” you couldn’t reach his eyes as you stared at your feet.

“She was the one who crafted the vibranium-detector. If more of those were to be made, it would threaten the existence of our home. I couldn’t let that stand and took it upon myself to find her. The princess of Wakanda just so happened to be with her.” he whispered, using his free hand to hold your chin. He wanted to see your eyes, to look into them so he knew how you were feeling.

Deep down, you knew there had been no other way. Had you been in his shoes as the sole ruler of Talokan, you were sure you would have done the same but still, you felt for her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked you, his lips brushing against yours.

You shook your head, growing limp against his touch. You were still exhausted from the aftermath of the battle and wanted nothing more than for him to join you in bed for a nap but something felt wrong—off.

The air felt stunted, the water on your feet felt strange—cold rather than the warmth you had been used to. You desperately searched your lover’s eyes, hoping he noticed it too only to find that they were closed. He held his head and you watched the goosebumps form up and down his arms.

As you began to ask if we were okay, Attuma approached the both of you, panting and out of breath, his face full of concern and what you thought might resemble anger.

“Ba'ax le jéelo'? Ba'ax ku yúuchul (what is it? what’s wrong)” you asked Attuma, your voice full of worry.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Namor beat him to it.

“They’re coming. Wakanda is coming.”

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