#Namor x reader x Attuma

[wint3r-h3art]

Pisces

Pairing: Namor x Fem!Reader x Attuma

Synopsis: This is a No Powers AU. Namor and Attuma are renowned businessmen who built business empire around the globe. As best friends and business partners, they share everything, and that include you.

While on his business trip, Namor’s attention shifts toward his business empire and less on you. Feeling unloved and unneeded, you decide to runaway. Of course, it doesn’t take long for you other lover to seek after you and bring you back to them.

Word count: 8.2K

Warnings: smut with plot!! slight angst! Established poly relationship. Predator/prey play, praise kink, finger kink, fingering, vaginal sex, car sex, oral (male & female receiving), dom/sub undertone, spit roasting, cum eating/dumping

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI | By clicking readmore, you agree that you are 18 and over. Your media consumption are your own!

**** DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ANYWHERE ESLE !  If you enjoy my works, please reblog/comment for support!

You could feel his unyielding gaze on you even from this far out. His presence alone should intimidate anyone that came within his vicinity, after all, he had always been a presence unto himself. His height and build had always been overwhelming to many, especially by the way he was carrying himself. 

The man was close to 6’5” and built like a tank with broad shoulders and chest. His waist and legs were thick with muscles. He could easily be mistaken for an athlete, and it wasn’t so far off either.

Attuma was a businessman through and through despite his past with Talokan’s Elite Special Forces. You came into his life after he retired, so you didn’t know much about what exactly he did. You just knew that the man served his country well, and now he’s working on his own thing. 

Perhaps it was why he’s renowned for running his business like his battlefield–ruthless and unyielding. His tactic has always been aggressive–an all-for-nothing sort of way that drives his competitors up the wall, which was unlike Namor who was more cautious and guarded. 

But that was how it made them the perfect team.  

Attuma’s gaze burned you in a way that you couldn't explain–it was awakening something primal inside that both were terrifying and exhilarating. He was looking more and more like a predator the way his deep, brown eyes bore down on you. His jet-black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail as he leaned his massive frame against the marble column inside the luxury boutique. He was sucking on a lollipop as he was eyeing you.

The all-black suit did nothing to hide his impeccable biceps and the massive plane of his chest. No one dared to question him or what the hell he was doing because they knew who he was, and everyone knew to mind their own business when he showed up. The septum piercing was a dead giveaway, but it was also the aura that he was emitting as well that everyone just knew he was the owner of the whole damn place.

A smile spread across your face as you weaved through the crowded boutique. Attuma shook his head in warning. Despite his relaxing composure, you know exactly what that means. 

No games. It was time to go. 

You wanted to play—you craved the thrill, primarily when Attuma got all worked up. 

You haven’t seen him for almost a week since Namor brought you along for his business trip here in America. Being all cooped up alone in the hotel room by yourself was making you antsy. It didn’t help that Namor was so focused on his work that he barely spent any time with you, so now that you were out and about, it was only natural to want to seek a little thrill–y’know, giving him a little taste of what it feels like to be left all alone.

Attuma loved the little game of cat and mouse. It drove him crazy whenever he had gotten a chance to just let himself lose. He knew the instance when you began to walk away from him with that little smile on your face. It wasn’t the first time that you act up, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last either.

As you took a step back, he took a huge step forward, pushing through the crowd. He knew that goddamn look, and he knew he had to work for it.

A quick dial on his phone and Namor picked up the call at the first ring.

“[I found our Birdy, but we’re going to run a little later than planned. She wants to play.]”

Namor grumbled knowingly, throwing the document across his desk. He could feel his head throbbing, trying to figure out what the hell he wants to do with you. He understood that he wasn’t great at keeping you happy or entertained. On the other hand, you needed to stop acting like a brat. His patient could only go so far.

“[You’re enabling her.]”

“[Well, you should have thought of that when you brought her here and left her in the hotel room all by herself. You could have waited for me. You know how she gets when you don’t give her enough attention. But what do I know?]” 

Sarcasm drenched his tone as continued to follow you. Attuma could feel his friend rolling his eyes even through the phone. If no one was going to say, he would. He had no problem with that.

“[That is not my point.]”

“[My point is, you pissed her off, and she takes it out on me, and it ends up being me doing all the work just trying to get her back. Have you ever stopped and considered that perhaps she needs you, which is why she acted this way? We agree on this that we will try to make this work together, but you just can’t keep doing to her, K’uk’ulkan.]”

Namor fell silent. He knew how you could get when you don’t get your way, especially when he doesn’t let you do anything you want. The past couple of days had been hectic for him, and he admitted that his busy schedule made him spend less time with you…It still didn’t justify the way you act up though. The bratty behavior needed to stop, and the fact that Attuma let you get your way all the time was unacceptable.

They knew that you know the sort of power you have over them, and how much you love to abuse it, knowing full well that they can’t say no to you. They may be in control when it comes to sex, but at the end of the day, it was you who held all the power over them in the palm of your well-manicured hands. Even if Namor had always been stern with you, he still let your behavior slip 9 times out of 10. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed in defeat. 

“No funny business, Attuma. Do not drag this little game of yours for more than 20 minutes. Or I will kick you out of the suit together,” he warned. 

A sarcastic laugh left his lips, making the people inside the boutique stare at him, but Attuma didn’t care. It was almost comical in a way that Namor’s love for control seeped into their everyday lives. As nonchalant as Attuma could be, sometimes, he asserted his own authority over his friend as well, especially when it comes to you.

He knew what was at stake here. Under normal circumstances, Attuma would take his sweet time, dragging out the little game until you were too exhausted to run from him. But now, he had to put in the effort to actually catch you. The little cat and mouse game has just gotten interesting, and here he thought this little trip was boring. It brought him back to his time as Talokan’s soldier.

“15 minutes is all I need. Also, fucking get something to make it up to her. I can only do so much. If you love her, do something about it.”

Namor had already gone ahead and ordered all the made-up gifts and flowers, even dinner reservation for the three of them at a three-Michelin star restaurant that you have always loved. He was going all out on his apology. Of course, that would come after the little punishment, of course.

“And one other thing. I owned that fucking hotel. You can’t lock me out of my damn property, you jerk.” Attuma hung up before his friend could utter anything, leaving Namor exasperated and annoyed.

.

.

.

You watched from a distance as Attuma placed his phone in his suit pocket. You knew who he was calling. The look he was giving you now was a complete 180. He wasn’t in the mood to play with his food anymore–no, he was going in for the kill, and you knew your time starts now.

Without any hesitation, you took off. There was zero chance that you could beat him in this little chase. You were set up for failure too many times to count, but it didn’t stop you from trying. Perhaps this once, you can outrun him. 

Weaving through the rush of people, you looked back to find Attuma walking–no, he wasn’t walking. That damn man was stalking you with the look of a starved predator. His stride widened, and each time he took a step forward, he seemed to gain another foot or so closer to you. It was like you made no progress at all.

Damn his long legs, you muttered under your breath as you continued to run.

You turned right, then left, hoping to throw him off his game. This was a luxury mall after all, there was no way he could just breeze past the patrons without causing any issues, you thought to yourself as you turned left. 

There was fucking way he can catch you now that you have thrown him off with all the turns.

Your legs were burning as you tried to pull air into your lungs. Your blood was practically pounded inside your eardrums the faster you were going. Every ounce of you was buzzing with adrenaline. It felt like it was not going to end, but your hope swells when you find the exit. There was a twinkling of hope shining dimly. The victory was so close that you could almost taste it on your tongue. Just a couple of more feet and you would win.

Your hand grasped the handle of the door and yanked it open.

But nothing.

Your heart felt like it dropped to the pit of your stomach as you tried to yank the door open again, not daring to look behind you.

Nothing.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you when the realization finally dawned on you. You finally turned around in hopes to make it out of this section at least before Attuma got there, but it was too late. He was already there, leaning against the wall, sucking on that God-forsaken lollipop as if he hadn't just dashed through the crowd to get here. 

Not a single hair on his head was out of place, and not a single drop of sweat poured down his face. The man was the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. This place was his playground, and he knew every entrance like it was the back of his hand. Your chance of running away for less than 1% the moment he entered here.

“Alright, Lil Birdy. The Big Fish is getting impatient, so we have to go back before he gets mad at us.”

“You haven’t won yet,” you pointed out. There was a fire in your eyes, and he loved that a lot. A woman who was as fierce as you deserves only the best challenge he could give you. 

You sized him up, walking slowly closer to the opposite wall, creating enough distance that you could just bolt right past him.  As long as he hasn't physically captured you yet, you still have a chance to win. All you had to do was sprint past him.

Yes. That was it.

And as if Attuma had read your thought, he took a small step closer. His larger body looms close to you. He was built like a goodman fortress, so to get past him, meant you had to be quicker than him.

“Sweetheart, no funny business, remember. Acting bratty with me will only get you into more trouble.” There was a warning in his eyes as he slowly approached you, but of course, you took off, or at least you tried to.

A pair of strong arms wound around your waist as your body was being hauled back. Before you knew it, your world was being turned upside down. A loud, surprised yelp left your lips as you found yourself being slung over his shoulder. You tried to flail your arms, hitting him, smacking at his ass or whatever part of you can reach, but Attuma just laughed as he smacked your ass in return.

“How many times have I told you that you can’t win at this kind of game?”

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you let out a whining noise as you flailed in his arms. Attuma didn’t seem to be bothered by it as he stood there, waiting for the staff to unlock the entrance doors for him.

“You cheated.”

“It is simply an aggressive tactic, that is all.”

“Still cheated,” you whined, pursing your lips as you continued to wiggle over his shoulder.

A large blacked-out car pulled up at the entrance. Its door had already opened by the time Attuma put you down and ushered you inside. 

“And you are still a brat,” he muttered as he sat beside you. 

You were more annoyed and frustrated at this point as Attuma sat there quietly, not even bothering to look at you. You crossed your arms and looked the other way. If he wants to play this game, you can do the same too.

“Why are you always taking it out on me whenever Namor pisses you off?” Attuma finally asked after some time.

His tone was light, but there was a heavy undertone to it. Perhaps annoyance…or worst hurt. You couldn’t help but look at him for a long moment. You knew exactly what he meant. It seemed like you always went to him whenever your other love upset you. Attuma has always been your rock now that you think about it.

He was the first to approach you and the first to court you between the two. You only met Namor because Attuma introduced you to him, so why have you always treated him this way? Was it because he never showed you anger or resentment? Or was it because of something else? Your love for him was as equal as your love for Namor, but why has it always been him that you always take your attitude on?

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time. The answer didn’t satisfy you or him, and you were fully aware of it. “Maybe because I know you would come looking for me?”

He didn’t look at you. He didn’t often express his anger or hurt around you, but it often showed up in his attitude and action. Like for this instance: his silence.

He was often boisterous and loud when someone else pissed him off. Oftentimes, he acted on his urges, but with you though, it always ended in silence as if he was holding himself back as if he didn’t want to scare you off.

You said sorry to him. This time you place your hand on his cheek so that he could look at you. His expression was still unreadable, but then again, you could never read him when he doesn’t want you to.

You slowly perched yourself up on the seat, so that you were looking at him at the same eye level. He had gone ahead and pulled up the partition so whatever you two were doing in the backseat of the SUV wouldn’t be known to the driver, but it was still nothing.

“I just know you will be there, that’s why I keep doing it. If Namor won’t come after me, I know you would…That was enough for me to know that at least I have you, so if you’re still mad at me, now it’s a good time to push me away,” you said softly. 

Your breath brushed against his lips, making them tingle slightly. Attuma was still silent, except that his eyes were bored into yours with an interest now. Those deep, earthy brown eyes of his seemed to melt as your words finally sank into his head.

“To be quite honest with you, I am more hurt about it than angry at you.”

His words made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. You stared up at him and felt the worst possible emotion. There was no playfulness in his tone, which made you even more guilty.

“I am the worst, aren’t I?”

Attuma sighed as he noticed your tearful gaze. Oh fuck, he really hated it when you cried. You really didn’t mean to, but when you think about all the times you caused all the trouble, you realized that you were being unfair to him.

“You’re not…I just spoil you too much and let you get your way too often,” he sighed. “I just wish you would treat me less of a punching bag, and more of your partner…Can you do that for me moving forward?”

You nodded. 

“I need you to say it,” he whispered against your lips, brushing them almost feathery that making your skin prick with goosebumps.

“I can. For you, anything.”

“Good girl.” Attuma leaned in, kissing your forehead first before capturing your lips. 

It wasn’t a hot kiss that you often shared, but something softer, more intimate than your usual antics with him. It felt more like a reassuring kiss–something along the lines of him validating his words and feeling for you.

Attuma felt it in his bones when his lips moved against yours, creating a soft friction that he has been craving since he arrived here. The slow, tantalizing kiss soon melted into a heated one, filled with needs and fervor that burned you to the core.

Your body buzzed as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. Every ounce of uncertainty seemed to melt away as the kiss deepened. Soon, you find his large body covering yours. Heavy and hot. His lips were soft yet demanding. There was just enough pressure and suction as his lips rubbed against yours. His tongue caresses your lips before he nipped your lower lips just before he drew it in to gently suck on it.

Your hands clung onto his massive back. Your hips moved on their own as you were rubbing your aching pussy against his thick thigh, hoping and wishing that the thick muscles of his thigh were enough to sate your throbbing pussy. 

You were breathless and panting as excitement coursed through your vein like liquid fire. Your hands were everywhere–fingers dug into his thick back, feeling the way his muscles rippled beneath your palms every time he moved.

His mouth slid along the column of your throat, lips grazed over the thrumming flutter of your pulse and along your jaws. Attuma paused at your ear. You could feel his warm, wet breath brushing against the shell as words spilled out of his mouth, full of sweetness and promise of never letting you go. Even through the haze of your arousal, you knew he was speaking the truth. 

His fingertips sought out the buttons of your blouse. His lips found the center of your collarbones before his mouth traveled down to the space between the valley of your breasts. He lingered there longer, kissing and sucking on the soft skin. His large palms cupped and kneaded through your bra like he hadn’t touched you in ages.

The thing about Attuma that you loved the most was his devotion to your pleasure. He had always put you first above all else. Every touch was meant to bring you closer to your release. He had never asked too much in return, yet you always make sure to reciprocate the same love he had given you.

Attuma went lower still. His dexterous fingers made quick work on your jeans, pulling them off you easily. He could have torn the things to pieces, but he refrained. There was no use of brute strength here.

Soft, mewling sounds slipped past your lips as your body succumbed to the soft pleasure that slowly built up inside of you. Your legs fell apart easily once Attuma tossed your jeans over his shoulder. Then his mouth bored down upon your flesh once more. Soft and wet, licking and sucking, stroking every nerve ending in your body, devouring you alive.

His low, deep guttural moans were like quiet words whispered against your skin. When he delved his thick finger inside you, you felt your body being consumed by the fire he set. Your body easily molded into whatever shape he wanted, yet he had never asked for more than what you have given him.  

It was a slow and tortuous touch, yet you opened up to him, allowing him to take whatever he wanted. Attuma slipped another thick finger inside you, and you knew you were done for. His fingers moved slowly at first, dragging out the sweet and delicious friction that you longed for. Your hips bucked upward as he pushed them all the way to his knuckle until your juices leaked out and rolled down till they pooled under your ass. 

Pleaded words left your lips as he continued to administer his slow, and desirous torture. 

His thumb pressed firmly against your small bundle of nerves, circling it and rubbing it until your legs started to shake. Pathetic whimpers left your lips as you clung to him with all of your might. No longer was the feeling of resentment and anger, and instead, your heart was filled with love and adoration that this man simply could give you with simply by his touch alone. You came not too long, but you didn’t let yourself catch any breath.

Attuma found himself being pushed back as you made quick work of his zipper. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. He was so hard and so ready for you. You gave him a tentative stroke from base to tip. You eyed him, watching the way the corner of his mouth twitched at the friction you have given him.

With your hand gripping his broad shoulders, you lifted yourself up and lined the tip of his cock against your opening before you slowly sank down onto his shaft.

Soft gasps slipped through his lips as the sensation of being enveloped by your warm, wet heat slowly consumed him. No matter how many times he had taken you, it always felt like it was the first. His length and girth had always intimidated you, even now, after years of being together, you were still unnerved by him.

You could only grunt as you slowly lift your hips up before slowly sinking down on him again. Each time you moved, you felt like you were about to split apart. Attuma stretched you out so deliciously that you felt like your mind was splitting. It was hard to concentrate on anything else when your mind was trying to focus on pleasing him.

As you began to find your pace, Attuma’s patience was running out as well. Without a word, his hands grasped your hips, holding you still as he began to piston his hips upward, driving himself deeper and after into you.

No noise came out of your mouth as he drove into you with such vigor. It was too overwhelming and just too much that you couldn’t think of anything else except for the way his cock was practically splitting you apart. Every time he slammed you back onto him, you felt like you were going to bust right then and there.

Of course, it didn’t take long for you to come. Your body convulsed and spasmed in his arms. It took you a while to realize that he hadn’t come yet. You pushed back and looked at him, but of course, you noticed that the car had come to a halt.

Your eyes were still bleary. Your skin was still feverish of the way your lover had made you feel. Attuma’s gaze was still burning into you. His arousal was still prominent against your thigh. You know the moment you leave this car and make your way up the hotel, you will be punished.

“Time to face your music, Little Bird. You can’t keep running away from your problems forever.”

You sighed. He was right. It was childish to even do the thing that you do, but you wanted attention from them, so it was the only thing you could think of at that moment. 

You took his hand in surrender. It was time to face the music.

You ended up staying in Attuma’s suit instead of Namor’s.

Your nervous energy was far too palpable that Attuma didn’t have the heart to let you face Namor immediately. His friend could wait some more. After all, it was his fault that you did what you did. It was a reminder for both of them that you cannot be controlled and tied down, and that if you wish to leave, they cannot stop you from doing so. It was a reality check for the two men and a greater one for Namor.

His way of loving you was perhaps a bit more extreme than Attuma's.

He had always had a sense of overprotectiveness over you to the point where it becomes smothering at times. He knew that his career often gets in the way of his life too. He’s managing multiple businesses globally. It was difficult to balance work and life altogether. There was no doubt about how much you meant to him, and he was confident that you could hold your own as well, but he understood that even the strongest person needed support, and he couldn’t be there.

Stepping outside the bathroom, you sighed constantly as you wrapped your body with a soft plush bathrobe. Your nerves seemed to relax a bit more, but of course, once you looked up, you found your heart sank.

Attuma was sitting on one of those large, plush sofas, looking at you with an unreadable expression once again. On his left stood your other lover, dressing in a deep navy suit, looking at you with a stern expression. 

Though Namor was not as tall as Attuma, his presence was his own. There was a regal air about him, almost like an air of authority. His presence commanded attention. His words commanded respect. No one ever dared to speak over him, and most important of all, no one ever dared to disrespect him. 

You couldn’t tell which one he was feeling at the moment by the way those brown eyes bored you. You didn’t know if he was mad, annoyed, or disappointed. Whatever it was, you really didn’t want to deal with him. No words had uttered out of his mouth, yet you knew what they were going to be.

Silence lingered inside the room. The quietness was almost deafening and the tension made the air thick, almost unbreathable. You waited, but nothing as the silence continued to stretch out further. Your first thought was to run to Attuma because you knew he would comfort you, but all sense of rationality seemed to slip out of your mind when Namor took a few steps toward you. His deep, brown eyes bored into you with an unreadable expression. The heaviness in the room only grew heavier once he was in front of you, intercepting your path and preventing you from reaching Attuma. You halted immediately as you stumbled backward, clearly surprised by his sudden movement.

A gasp slipped out of your lips when you found his thick strong arm snaking around your waist, caging you and holding you close to him. Heat radiated off his body, flooding your nostrils with nothing but his deep, masculine cologne–the one that you gifted him. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that made you want to crawl under the cover. 

Blood rushed to your face as you struggled to look him in the eyes, so you cast your gaze elsewhere, but Namor would have none of that. He grabbed you by the nape of your neck and force you to look at him. You could smell the sweetness on his breath when he exhaled. The warm heat tickled your skin, making your nerves buzz and hum.

Your mouth went dry in an instant as you tried to swallow. Whatever you planned to say to him seemed to dissolve the moment he touched you, and it scared you the fact that Namor had such power over you.

“Why did you leave me?”

His voice came out like a soft tremor, making your body hum with anticipation. Namor knew the reason already. It was more than obvious. He just wanted you to say it out loud. 

He knew he fucked up on his part, and there was no amount of gifts or apology that could remedy what he had done. He just wanted to know why you always do this–making him some sort of a bad guy. He was not perfect, and he tried to be the best partner he could be for you. He wasn’t as attentive to your needs as Attuma was, and he knew that. He wanted to be better. He would have given you the whole damn world you wanted because that’s the kind of man he was. 

At the same time though, you were the only person on this Earth that knew how to push every single one of his buttons. He wasn’t sure whether your defiance came from your attention deprivation or not, but he didn’t appreciate being tested and questioned all the damn time.

“You know why,” you answered. You were surprised by how small your voice sounded. Your hands shook from your nerves as you tried to hold his gaze. Those deep brown eyes felt like a fortified fortress, hardened and unyielding–almost unforgivable the way they could just pierce into the depth of your soul without realizing it.

Namor wasn’t happy with your answer, and you knew this by the way his grip got a little firmer than before, making you gasp in an instant. You could almost taste his breath on your tongue as he closed in the distance.

“I want you to say it.”

“Why should I? You’ve never had to justify yourself whenever you do something wrong, so why should I do that?”

Attuma’s lips quirked, trying to hide his smirk at your defiance. Only you could speak such works to Namor, and Attuma was quite amused by that. As a matter of fact, he was so proud of you for standing up to Namor that it started to make him stiff all over again.

Namor let out a warning grunt as his eyes bored into you. 

“You are in no position to demand anything from me, my love.” His fingers dug into your skin, almost imprinting his fingertips straight to your bones.

You winced at the dull pain as you continued to stare at him defiantly. You could feel his patience fraying the more you were egging him on, and it excited you in some way. You wanted him angry–hell, you wanted him to be furious, just anything to show that he cared or felt something for you.

“I think I do…and you know it too, dearest love of mine.”

Namor grunted and took a step back. He looked over Attuma, then at you. His expression soon shifted into something else entirely–something that you knew would make your knees weakened. He looked at you darkly. There was an underlying hunger that made you swallow thickly. 

“Take off your robe,” he said firmly as he slowly took off his suit jacket. His dexterous fingers made quick work on his tie. His eyes were trained on you as he slowly rolled up his sleeves. You could see the way his arms flexed by the way the muscles strained and corded. The image made your core throb. 

“Do not make me ask twice, in yakunaj,” he warned. His voice was firm, full of authority. “Attuma will not be able to help you now that you are here with me, so what’s it going to be?”

You stood there silently for a long moment, and the realization finally dawned on you once you let out a sharp exhale breath that you were holding your breath this whole time. Reluctantly, you took off the plush bathrobe, letting it fall off your shoulders and pooled by your feet. A cold shudder shot through your spine as cold air brushed against your naked form. Attuma looked at you with much interest now, eying your body from head to toe. He could feel his cock twitch at the way you were clamping your thighs together. He could clearly see the way your wetness slowly seeped out and rolled down your inner thigh.

“Good girl,” he said as he stroked your cheek, caressing it almost so lightly that it made you shudder. “But being a good girl is not enough to get you off the hook with me, darling…What should I ever do with you?”

You stayed silent, but you could feel your body warm. Your pussy was throbbing to your frantic heartbeat as you stood there, wishing that he would punish you already. This drawn-out game wasn’t for you. 

“I don’t know,” you answered. Your voice was no more than a whisper. Namor didn’t miss the tremor in your voice as his hand now cupped your face, pulling you ever closer to him. 

Warm, wet breath brushed against your skin, awakening the carnal hunger that you have been yearning for.

“That’s not a good answer.”

You chewed on your lips momentarily, but he didn’t give you enough time to think when the next words left his lips.

“On your knees.”

You felt your stomach do a flip, and your first instinct was to turn and look at Attuma, but Namor’s hand was firm on your head, holding it there, allowing you to only look at him.

“You know what to do next. Do not make me spell it out for you.”

With trembling hands, you made quick work of unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoned his pants. You noticed how much your fingers were trembling when you pulled his zipper down. You eyed him with a nervous look as you slid down his pants, and you were met with his bulge. 

Namor’s hand was still stroking your face, watching you as you lowered his boxer brief.

Your hand gently wrapped around his half-hardened shaft, stroking it slowly in your hand. Namor clenched his jaw tightly, trying to hold in the little noise that threatened to leave his mouth as he stared down at you. 

Attuma was watching both of you intensely. He could feel his cock aching and twitching in his pants as he sat there. When your mouth slowly closed around the head of Namor’s cock, more fire burst through his body, threatening to explode in his balls. His hand gripped around his bulge. He was so hard by the time you started to suck on Namor’s cock that he didn’t think he was able to walk or move.

“Ah..fuck, I love the way that mouth of yours feels,” Namor said with a deep, husky voice as he tipped his head back. His hips bucked forward, pushing himself further into your mouth. “Oh, fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. You love sucking on this cock, don’t you?”

You moaned onto his shaft as you replied. Your eyes never wavered from his.

Attuma eyed you closely as you slid up and down Namor’s shaft, dark and ridged with veins. He wasn’t as long or as thick as he was, but Attuma always found it arousing, watching the way Namor’s cock would stretch out your mouth, especially the way you struggle to breathe whenever his friend decides to fuck your little mouth. He couldn’t help but take out his own erection and started to stroke himself, wishing to feel the way your mouth felt on his cock too.

You rested your hand on Namor’s hips, fingers dug into the hard flesh of his muscled thighs as your head bobbed, trying to swallow his whole length. Namor groaned deeply in his chest when you pulled back and let his fat bulbous head slide out of your mouth. A string of saliva trailed down your chin before you swallowed him to the base again. Namor’s eyes shifted toward Attuma, who was watching tentatively, jerking his own cock off too as he was mesmerized by you. 

You gagged a couple of times before you took a step back to catch your breath, your hand was still on his shaft, stroking and jerking him off, worshiping him like a god.

“Come here,” he said as he moved over to the large bed. You followed him, crawling on all four, giving a full view of your drenching and pussy to Attuma before you knelt in between Namor’s legs. Without a single word, he turned you over and laid you on your back. His palm kneaded your breast slowly as he eyed the other man, gesturing to come over.

“Come over here and eat her pussy,” he ordered Attuma. 

Namor didn’t have to say it twice as the bigger man hastily stripped himself off of his clothing. His heavy erection was in hand as he crawled onto the large bed. You watched the way the mattress dipped below him as he slowly approached you like a hungry predator. The sight made your pussy clench and unclench as anticipation filled your veins. He was so hard and heavy, his cock was practically dragging over the mattress as he moved.

“Fuck her with your mouth until she can’t take it anymore,” Namor muttered against your skin. His fingers were around your stiff nipple, pulling at it and twisting it between his rough digits. “I want her to beg, you hear me?”

Attuma didn’t need any more urging. His mouth found your stomach first, kissing his way down your torso, nibbling at your soft skin along the way. He knelt in between your legs, draping each one over Namor’s thick thighs, spreading you even wider. You let out a soft moan when you felt his rough palm massaging your flesh. A warm, familiar heady feminine scent drifted up to his nostrils, and it made his mouth water.

“Ah fuck, such a pretty pussy you have, Lil Birdy. I always love playing with it. So pretty and so perfect for us.”

Your legs twitched and Attuma eyed Namor as he continued to tease your breasts, palming them in your hands, kneading them until the buds were stiff and almost painful.

Without a word, Attuma dipped his head, inhaling deeply, and ran his tongue over the slippery pussy. You jerked against him and sobbed softly. Your hand flew to his long, dark mane, fisting it in your hand. He licked again at your slippery folds, pressing a kiss and there, suckling on one side first, before suckling on the other. He kissed you higher before he finally pressed his mouth over your clit and kissed you there, sucking on the small bud until you were wreathing in Namor’s arms. Your clit pulsed against his lips and you gasped and tugged harder at his hair.

Attuma licked, and swallowed your juices, feeling the way your body shuddered below him. His tongue slipped between your slipper folds and dipped into your warm, inviting heat. He fucks you slowly with his tongue, thrusting shallowly into your tight holes. 

Once he had enough, he pulled back slightly and pushed his thick fingers inside you, filling you and stretching you with them. He moaned deeply at the way your body clenched and closed in around his digit so hotly. Your moaning was only getting louder when he added his third finger, and his gaze was on Namor as he was attending to your breasts. His tongue once again found your clit as he continued to tease at the sensitive bud.

“Oh my God, please, please, please,” you panted. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. Please…”

“Not yet,” Namor said, smirking before shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Gone was your rationality as you suckle on his digits with desperation while Attuma was fucking you with his own fingers. He would want to make you come, but not yet. He wanted to draw this out as much as your body could.

Attuma licked some more, flicking at your clit before sucking on it with intent. Your hips lifted off the mattress, but with his vice-like grip, he held you there, sucking on you and drawing out your orgasm until your muscles tightened.

And when you felt like you could go over the edge, he would pull back, making you sob softly in Namor’s arms. It really was unfair, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

You were at their mercy after all.

It felt like an eternity when Attuma finally gave in, and let you come. Your body tightened to the point of pain. Heat rushed out of your body and poured out onto his tongue. His cock was throbbing almost too much now. His balls felt tight, and for a brief second, he thought he was going to come too. Breathing out his mouth, he managed to control his own.

Namor rubbed his face as he watched. His cock was aching and throbbing. What a wicked sight it was to watch you come undone by Attuma’s mouth. Something about watching you writhing and begging with your frantic sobbing really turned him into a different person.

Without a word, he rolled you over onto your stomach. He commanded Attuma to switch places with him while they gave you a brief moment to catch your breath.

“Attuma, move over in front of her,” Namore ordered. His voice was gruffed as he, himself, moved between your legs. His fingers stroke at your quivering pussy lazily, allowing your juice to coat his own fingers, which made you whine in response. 

A smirk etched on his lips. It had always been Namor who did all the commanding and ordering around, and Attuma never had any issue with it–as a matter of fact, he enjoyed it. He didn’t have to think too much. He knew his role, and he liked the idea of just letting go and focusing more on your needs than anything else.

You looked up to find Attuma’s cock jutting up, almost brushing against your face. He was so much thicker and longer, and every time you sucked on his dick, you felt like your jaws were going to dislocate or some sort. 

“Since Attuma worked hard today, you need to reward him too, darling. Make him come with just your mouth. I want to see the way his cock stretches you out and fills you up—show me what that pretty mouth can do, sweetheart,” he said as he spread your legs apart. 

One hand gripped firmly at your hip, while the other lined the head of his cock at your entrance. He waited, watching you intensely as your mouth slowly closed in around Attuma’s thick, fat cock, and then he pushed his body into you, sheathing himself all the way to the base.

You responded with a muffled moan as the motion made your body surge forward, forcing you to swallow Attuma halfway through. You felt like you almost choked as tears rolled down your cheeks. It was too much, being filled at both ends. You felt like you could be torn apart at any moment as you tried to breathe through your nose. 

Your jaws ached, and your pussy was quivering, on the verge of coming again from simply so overstimulated by the way your two lovers were giving to you. 

Namo hissed at the way your pussy was clenching around him as he moved inside you, thrusting slowly at first. It didn’t take much resistance because of how dripping wet you were already. 

“Fuck, love,” he moaned as spread you wider so he fuck you deeper. It was to the point where if he wasn’t holding onto you this firmly, you would have collapsed onto your stomach by now. “That’s right, make him come, baby. Suck on him like that,” he murmured almost incoherently.

“You love sucking on that cock so much, don’t you?”

You couldn’t answer as you tried to focus on pleasing Attuma. 

Namor didn’t like that, so he bucked his hips a little too hard and made your body surge forward, taking a couple more inches of Attuma’s dick.

You let out a muffled whine before you let out a little, “Mmmmhmmm.”

“Hmmm, aren’t we lucky to have such a good girl being our little cockslut,  Attuma?”

The other man grinned, flashing his dimples at you as he stroked your tear-stained cheeks. 

“Yeah, we do. She’s always so good at being a hole for us to fuck—A-ah, fuck, Little Bird, you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”

You moaned before bobbing your head along his shaft quicker, hollowing your cheeks to create enough suction onto his cock. Your jaws were tired at this point. The sensation was fading between pleasure and pain.

Attuma’s breath quickened. He was fighting the urge to fuck your little mouth. Namor was watching him, noting the way Attuma’s hand was gripping his hair, bunching it into a tight fist. It wouldn’t be long. He was very close to his release.

“Keeping going, darling. Keep sucking on him. I want you to drink up all of his cum, you hear me?”

You moaned as best as you could as you continued to bob your head, sucking on him, stringing him up until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“At, fuck,” Attuma groaned as he came.

You could feel the warm, thick fluid shot down your throat, making you choke out.

Attuma watched you through the haze as your mouth left his dick, and a string of the thick fluid sputtered from your mouth and onto the mattress. 

It was a messy affair as your face was marred with tears and cum. He didn’t think he could love you any more than he could, but every time he made a mess out of you, he just knew he wanted to spend the rest of your life with you, and one day watch you round and full with his babies.

Namor reached around under you and found your clit, which made you jump with his heated touch. He rubbed at it as he continued to plunge into you with an unforgivable force until you cried softly. Your pussy clenched and convulsed around him, and he knew you came.

He stayed there, kneeling with his dick still hard as a rock, plunging in and out of you more erratically now, using you to satisfy his need. Your body surged forward like a rag doll as Namor fucks you with intensity and vigor, sending heat from the base of his spine before it exploded outward as he poured himself into you, filling you until he was dripping out.

Namor let out a string of cursing that you didn’t understand as you lay there on your stomach, feeling so worn out and so spent. Your body felt boneless and heavy. Your nerves still hummed from pure electricity that coursed through you as you tried to recover from the mind-blowing orgasms that both of your men just gave you. 

You could feel Attuma move from the mattress momentarily by the way his weight shifted off the large bed. He came back a few minutes later with a warm towel, wiping your face and lips before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Behind you, Namor moved to snuggle and spooned you. His arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he laid his cheek on your arm. His lips kissed whatever skin he could touch as you lay there, completely exhausted. 

Attuma joined you a bit after, letting you lay your head on his broad chest.

“Promise us you won’t leave us again,” Namor murmured. His tone was softer now, almost lulling you to sleep.

“Hmmm,” was all you could say.

“You have to promise us,” Attuma added. 

“I promise,” you said tiredly. 

“Don’t you have anything else to say to her as well, K’uk’kulkan?”

The other man sighed and moved to rest his weight on his elbow so he could look at you.

“I’m sorry as well for not being a good lover to you. I promise that I will try to be better at attending to your needs.”

The words felt genuine, and you couldn’t help but shed a couple of tears as you looked at him. Namor leaned in and kissed the tears away.

“Thank you,” you said softly as he leaned in to kiss you. 

“Well, now that you both are made up. Let me just take a little nap…the jet lag is killing me.” 

Namor rolled his eyes before he laid back in bed. You, on the other hand, were rubbing Attuma’s chest in an effort to soothe him. 

“Alright, big guy. Take a nap. You earned it,” you said cheekily.

Attuma only grunted before his noises were were slowly replaced by his deep snore. You and Namor soon found yourself passed out from exhaustion as well.

[multiversxwhore]

EXUSE ME! Now that we know Tenoch has slept with a fan, AND has been in a threesome, AND east booty when he’s high, AND the fact that he likes to get high (these were all from older interviews but I’m sure some of these still stand) WHERE’s THE ONE SHOTS???? WE NEED THE MAYERIAL TO GO WITH THE EVIDENCE WE ALREADY ASSUMED ABOUT HIM ANYWAY.

PUT THE FIC IN THE BAG!

[xblackreader]

✧₊∘ black women deserve representation in fanfiction and fiction in general ✧₊∘

✧ ᯓ★ ༺☆༻ ★ ᯓ ✧

-> masterlist ☆

-> fanart

ᯓ★ I have opened my tip jar at the top of my homepage! feel free to tip the chef 💋🍸

✧ ᯓ★ ༺☆༻ ★ ᯓ ✧

[imthataliensuperstar]

It puts a smile on my face seeing both of my Talokan men turned into himbos. Loving and supporting their Wakandan women

[tenochconamor]

Tenoch, Alex and Mabel with the Maya language coach Josue Mayachi and other crew members

Source

[nellycanwrite]

A Request

Part 1 of the “The Request” Series  ||  Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: As the daughter of the feathered serpent god, you had always felt the pressure of living up to your father’s name. But you never had to worry; Attuma was always there to quell your fears and follow your will to the ends of the earth.

Or, in which Attuma swears his undying loyalty and love for you, even if it meant being as shameless as to declare his love to a princess when he was but a mere warrior.  

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 10.9K

Warnings: None. Just pure fluffy goodness. If you include a slightly overprotective Dad!Namor then yes, he’s the warning. Maybe a little bit of childhood friends to lovers. A whole lot of Princess x Warrior. 

Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.

Part 1  ||  Part 2 ||  Part 3

K'uk'ulkan had never felt as much loss as he had the day he had lost your mother. Yet there lay bittersweet joy; for the heir to the throne of Talokan had breathed their first breath and let out a cry so strong it beckoned the creatures of the deep sea to their bidding.

You were born a wee thing; weak and fragile as the old shells that littered the floors of the sea. Yet you held strong in the arms of your father as he witnessed his wife lifelessly lay in their shared chambers. The handmaidens and wet nurses all wept and mourned at the loss of their queen, the ocean swayed with the waves of its people's grief. You cried with your father's subjects as if you had understood the passing of Talokan's queen mother, but K'uk'ulkan never shed a tear, no. 

 He was a king to his people. He was the protector of his nation. A God was he revered by both land and sea.

 He was your father.

 And he dared not to weep in front of the children he held so dear—for even in the heartache of his loss does he remember the weight of his divine majesty and countenance to his people.

 “The queen of Talokan has passed,” K'uk'ulkan swallowed the lump that formed on his throat as he bit back bitter tears. Tears that he will never show his people in a sign of great weakness, “yet she would not have wished for us to mourn in sadness. She brought us a gift that none could ever compare. She would have wished for us to celebrate in her absence for the birth of our child—Talokan's first heir.”

 The you who had been presented with a crown and a scepter of your kingdom's rule since your birth inherited your father's features; the ears that pointed to the heavens as a sign of the divine blood that flowed through your veins, the golden skin that the sun had seemed to kiss in great exhalation to your birth, and the wings of heaven bestowed upon your ankles.

 You were undoubtedly his child. The heir to K’uk’ulkan’s great nation. 

 You were loved by both land and sea, perhaps a gift from your late grandmother's love for the surface, for when you visit the land and take gulps of air do you stay breathing and when you step into the rocks of your father's study do you remain kissed by the sun. You did not change into the color of the sea like the maids that have cared for you, instead, you remained the same color as your own father when he sits idly on dry land. 

 At the tender age of seven did you realize the weight of the name of your father. You aspired to become like him, to fly like him, to lead the people like he did in childish wonder. He showed you the land that your ancestors once owned, the burial sight of your late grandmother, Fen, and the beauty that came with your motherland.

 You yearned for the sights of the surface world, craved for the sun that illuminated the sky—not the one that your father had curated all those years ago, but the one that sits amongst the clouds of the surface—and you whispered wistful wishes to walk into the luscious green of the land that was unknown to you.

 But your father forbids you to go further than the coves of Talokan's entrance. The sole heir to the throne of your nation should be safe. Protected. You were only allowed to go up into the surface every three months, a leniency that your father had so mercifully given you, and stare at the land dwelling wildlife that would so cross your vision. 

 You were merely stuck in the watchful eyes of your guards as you gazed with great longing at the mountains so far from your reach and the forests that would call your name. 

 Despite the love that you had for the beauties of the surface world, you loved your people and your great nation of the deep sea. You loved your father and tried your best to live up to the name of K'uk'ulkan. At the age of eleven you were made aware of your duties to your people. You had made sure that those duties were fulfilled despite the protests of your elders for being so young; that the beloved princess of Talokan need not to carry on the mantle of her royal duties just yet. But you worked hard to outshine your peers to preserve the honor of your father. 

 K’uk’ulkan could not be any prouder than he is now. 

 But the pedestal that you stood on was lonely. You did not have many friends, not because your father was protective of you and had guards at your beck and call, but because you were always so nervous to converse with the other Talokanil children.

 What if they didn’t like you? What if they decided that your status as a princess would hinder their relationship with you? What if they didn’t see you as a prospect to rule them in the future when your father passes the baton of his majesty to you?

 How ironic must it be for the princess of a great nation cower before the idea of friendship to her own people.

 But that had changed when your father let you meet two Talokanil children; Namora and Attuma.

 You knew Namora as your relative—your father’s cousin, to be exact—and sometimes came and went into the palace when you studied. But you never did get the chance to talk to her. You were far too anxious to try and talk to someone whose aura was as intense as hers, even when she’s just a few years older than you.

 “They said they wanted to be your friend, in waal.” my child, he said. Both of them shifted nervously from where they stood, toy spears hidden behind their backs as they fidgeted in place. You noticed how Namora elbowed the boy Attuma on the ribs. He glared at her albeit playfully and said nothing as he behaved.

 You have always noticed the two of them from afar when you studied near your father's throne. They were always rowdy, always hitting each other with their spears clumsily. Despite this, they always laughed and took everything in a merry stride. They never ceased to amaze you.

 Even though Namora was far smaller than Attuma (or any other Talokanil child your age, really), she always won their little play-fights. Their roughhousing caused other children to stay clear of them, but you always found them fascinating. You never knew they wanted to be your friends. You have never as much as held a proper conversation with them except for a few nervous waves and panicked scrambling on your part when they caught you staring.

 “My…friends?” It was your turn to fidget nervously, your hands clasping together and your thumbs twiddling against each other whilst you looked down. You felt the water shift as your father swam towards you, his tender gaze calming you down when his figure covered you from the curious eyes of the Talokanil children.

 “That's right. They want to play with you. I'm sure you were wishing for the same, no?” He chuckled knowingly. You felt heat rise from the back of your neck and crawl up your cheeks—your father had seen you staring at them while they were playing almost everyday!

 Nervously, you nodded ever slowly. There was no lie to his claims. You truly did wish for them to become your friends.

 Attuma's patience must have run out when you were taking your time to reply to your father. You shrieked in surprise when you met the biggest grin you had seen in your life from just above you, an incisor clearly missing in the front of his mouth. K'uk'ulkan laughed and gently coaxed the boy down to your level, his hair flowing gracefully with the water as your father grabbed his ankles and lowered him in front of you. 

 “Wanna play with us?” You blinked at his straightforwardness. You glanced at your father for help, but he merely chuckled and gestured for you to answer. 

 “I—well—um…” He was too close to you that you felt like fainting from your own nerves.

 “Attuma, don't be rude,” Attuma grunted when Namora appeared by his side and delivered a firm whack to his head with a toy spear. You breathed out a centering exhale before shooting Namora a thankful look. She huffed at Attuma, “you might scare her. And you just swam over the king!”

 “I do not mind. But be more mindful next time, Attuma. You must not swim over your elders.” K'uk'ulkan chuckled endearingly at the children's antics. He already knew how rambunctious they would be whenever he passed by them play-fighting.

 Attuma nodded with a gapped-tooth grin but K'uk'ulkan doubts he would really listen to him. But that was alright—he has plenty of time to learn respect. The king of Talokan wishes for these children to be their mischievous selves a little while longer and enjoy their carefree lives as young Talokanil. 

 K'uk'ulkan notices you fidget once again when Namora turns her attention to you, just as eager to make you their new friend. You try to make out words with broken sentences, yet there was no right greeting that would come. You would deflate when Namora would hold the reins of the conversation again. You failed to introduce yourself proudly and your embarrassment made K'uk'ulkan coo—how precious could his princess be?

 He chuckles and patted Namora and Attuma on the crowns of their heads, successfully diverting their attention away from you and into his benevolent smile.

 “She's a little nervous, but she has a good heart. She also wishes to become your friend. But remember that you have to listen; it is the makings of a great warrior.”

 “A great warrior?” Namor's eyes sparkled. Attuma stared at his king with wonder similar to the spark of Namora's eyes.

 K'uk'ulkan chuckled and nodded. You chose this moment to swim to your father's side, hiding half of your body behind his own. You looked at Attuma and Namora curiously while they waited for their king's next words. 

 “A great warrior not only takes a spear and protects their people, but they listen as well. They listen to their people's cries and act upon their needs. It is also your duty to listen to your leaders—for they hold the burden of choice. Never forget that, my young warriors.”

 Your father rubbed your back soothingly and pushed you gently forward. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as soon as you were in close proximity with the two Talokanil children. 

 “Now this is your first task your king asks of you; listen to what the princess has to say, understood?”

 They were eagerly waiting for your next words, their bodies barely holding in their excitement. You would have swam away right then and there, but you steeled your resolve and took a deep breath.

 You said your name with a stutter, but that did not deter you. Your father gave you a reassuring pat to your shoulder. It filled you with more confidence to look them straight into the eye and say;

 “I—I wish to be your friend, Namora. Attuma.”

 The children gleamed happily, the water shifting as they circled you in excitement. Attuma had it in himself to wrap his arms around you and giggle with such carefree mirth that it covered you in a sense of welcome. Of belonging. 

 “You don’t know how long we wanted to become your friend, princesa!” He exclaimed, his arms still wrapped around you firmly. His toy spear now lay discarded on the ocean floor but he didn’t seem to mind.

 Overwhelmed with the attention, you stuttered and twitched in his embrace. But you didn’t feel uncomfortable; it was a pleasant feeling to finally have a friend. But you weren’t used to physical touches just yet.

 A large hand pried you off of Attuma, your hair whipping around you as you were now brought back to your father’s side. You saw him smile cordially at the boy, albeit strained, as his eyes twitched ever so slightly.

 “Now, we have to be gentle with the princess. There shall be no sudden touches in her presence, especially with you, Attuma.”

 Attuma blinked and cocked his head to the side, but he didn’t question his king’s instructions. 

Years have passed since you have befriended the rowdy young warriors that K’uk’ulkan looked upon with great fondness. You, along with Namora and Attuma, have trained under the wing of your father in the ways of the spear much to your new friends’ joy.

 As the next heir to the throne of your nation, you always did your best to meet the expectations that came with the name of the daughter of the feathered serpent god. You would go to the fields of your farmers to oversee harvest, weave baskets with the elderly to help the storage of the new batch of produce, and join the scholars that studied vibranium so you would further verse yourself to the mineral that grew in abundance in your ocean floors. 

 They were once such a tedious task for you; something that you did out of necessity. But Namora and Attuma made it a point to follow you everywhere you go, help you with the work and doubling the yields of your effort, and they made you smile when you were far too tired after your duties. 

 Attuma had made it a habit to make you cling on his back as you swam back home. There was no reason for you to get more exhausted than you already were, he told you. And despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself falling into a habit as well.

 You found your royal duties far more enjoyable with them by your side, and you absolutely awaited the time of the day where you were relieved of your duties to go and spend your time with them. 

 “Don’t you find studying boring?”  Attuma asked you one day, his meticulous hands polishing his training spear near the drop of the deep trenches. You tilted your head as soon as you seated yourself beside him, your legs dangling on the steep edge.

 “I don’t think so…the language of the surface dwellers is fascinating. I find it enjoyable to learn.”

 “You’re better off not knowing their language,” Namora huffed as she emerged from the bottom of the trench, a small lamp containing bright vibranium sustaining you with much needed light. She held her training spear proudly by her side, freshly decorated with shells that she found down below, “you know what they did to our grandmothers and grandfathers. I don’t see why you want to learn so much about them.”

 “It is my duty, Namora. Once I take the throne I might need to talk with the surface dwellers one day,” you looked down on your lap and fiddled with the jade bracelet your father had gifted you on your fifteenth birthday—one that once belonged to your grandmother, “and I’m just preparing…just in case.”

 “We’d be dead before we let any of those surface dwellers see you, princesa,” Attuma nudged his shoulders against yours and grinned, “we’ll make sure you don’t even have to talk to them as long as we’re there to protect you.”

 “Did father tell you to say that?”

 “What? No!” You gave Attuma a squinted eye stare and hummed. He averted his eyes nervously, his hands now working on his spear with more fervor than before. You and Namora snickered at his plight. 

 “He did.” Namora confirmed your suspicions. You sighed but left it be. You knew your father was just trying to protect you, so you let him do as he pleases. Although you did not fully understand the depth of the weight of his responsibilities, you could still recognize the great sorrow that came with his hate for the surface world.

 And you had kept quiet about your longing to go up into the land; for you knew how it would pain him to know that you bore as much love for the surface as you did for the love you had for your nation. 

 Attuma cleared his throat and straightened his back, the spear he had decorated with the teeth of hammerheads now lay by his side. He stared at you with such conviction that rendered you speechless in his presence, and the light from the faux sun that your father had created casted him in a glorious light that made your breath hitch in your throat and the feathers on your ankles bristle in anticipation. 

 “I’ll do my best to train hard, princesa. I’ll become strong enough to protect Talokan—to protect you—so that you won’t even have to worry about any surface dwellers by the time you will inherit the throne.”

 You felt more heat rush from your neck and now up to your eyes, his words giving you so much joy that you could possibly even imagine.

 You had a friend far more loyal than any of your own guards from your father’s command. And if there was one thing you had learned from your duties as princess, that was the honor that came with a loyal subject.

 Your flustered surprise was eventually replaced with giggles when Namora hit Attuma on the head with the brunt side of her spear, her face contorting to one of lighthearted teasing. 

 “Do you really think you’re the only one training to be by the princess’ side? You’ll have to go through me first.”

 “Then I’ll just have to train harder to beat you, Namora,” Attuma glanced at you and gave you a grin, “I’ll be the one to stand by the princess’ side.”

 “You’ve never even beaten me once.” “There’s a first time for everything.”

 She scoffed. “In your dreams.”

 You stopped their little play-fight before it got too heated by pulling them closer to your side, your arms around their necks and laughing with such elation. You were thankful that they came into your lives and became your closest friends, and you would not ever want to see them change as you slowly aged with the sea. 

 “While the both of you train to become warriors, I’ll study even harder so I could be a queen that both of you will be proud to serve under. I don’t want your efforts to go to waste and serve a leader that’s incompetent.”

 “You don’t have to do that, princesa. We shall follow you through the ends of the earth if need be. We already know that you outshine any ruler that came before and will come after you.”

 “My father would not be too pleased if he heard you say that, Attuma.”

 “He feels the same way, don’t worry.” Namora spoke in turn for the boy. You giggled when Attuma gave you a cheeky grin. 

 The three of you laughed with glee, unspoken promises now drifting with the currents of the outskirts of the capital city of your great nation.

It’s almost been a century since you have befriended them. A century since you have made your closest friends and aides. Namora and Attuma were always stuck by your side even when there were calls from their king to gather his strongest men. They gave you counsel, they gave you peace, they gave you protection in your times of need.

 Nowadays, though, Namora has frequented your father’s side more likely than not—mostly because she was his cousin and his most exemplary warrior. Attuma was only second in skill compared to Namora, but he was still powerful in his own right.

 You wondered when would your father hail them as generals; they deserve to be given the title for their service and their wit. You, as the princess of Talokan, can vouch for their competence. 

 “Where shall we go today, princesa?” Attuma asked you, his gait slowly inching closer to your own.

 The boy you once knew had grown into a fine man. He had honed his body to withstand the greatest blows, turned himself into a living shield for your purpose and disposal. You did not want him to go into such extremities, but he always insisted. He even went as far as to hunt hammerhead sharks on his own and nearly killed himself in the process. The bites of hostiles were lodged firmly into his stomach, and the scars that littered his skin became trophies of his successful exploits. 

 You cried and cried beside him as you told him how stupid he was, how foolish he was to do everything in your name. How could he throw himself into danger just to train himself for your sake? It did not make sense to you, and you reckon that you will never understand the mind of a great warrior like Attuma. 

 Despite this, he comforted you and held you close to him; told you that he would welcome any sort of pain just so he could protect you from harm's way. You cried again and punched him in his abdomen—you were sure to tell your healers that you would be the one to patch up your reckless guard as an apology. 

 You felt his warmth from the water that surrounded you as it shifted when he tucked a strand of hair behind your pointed ears. You smiled.

 “You can call me by my name, Attuma. You know that.”

 “How dare I ever utter your name so casually?” He asked you almost incredulously. You sighed.

 “We have been friends for over a century. You can be comfortable with me,” you turned to him with a pout, “please?”

 “Is that an order?” He asked you, a trace of amusement from his quirked lip. You huffed and crossed your arms.

 “You know I don't like giving orders, Attuma.”

 “Then I shall continue calling you by your title, princesa.”

 “And what if I ask you this as a request?” You swam closer to him, your pout breaking out into a knowing grin.

 Attuma stayed silent, his head turned to avoid your piercing gaze. He felt heat from the back of his neck at your proximity, but he didn't dare move away from you.  

 You huffed.

 “You're no fun.” 

 Attuma resisted the urge to chuckle. You looked at him in the corner of your eyes and smiled; you knew he couldn't resist it when you tried to make him laugh.

 “And what of your errands today?” He asked you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. You blinked and swam towards him, pling his large bicep into the direction of your father's study.

 “We've wasted much time, Attuma. Now come, we are going to the surface.” He nodded in affirmation and led you towards the entrance of the underwater cave systems your father introduced you to as a child. It was one of your favorite places, but your duties called you to the deeper parts of the sea to tend to your people.

 As soon as you ascended, you saw the figure of your father dressed in his cloak as he painted murals upon the walls. Beside him was Namora, her mask on her face and her pallor now blue for being in land. You regarded your father with a bow, gestured him with the sign of your people’s respect, and slowly ascended into his study. 

 “Father.” you called out to him. He paused from his painting and smiled at you, his eyes filling with so much love that it was unlike the name the surface dwellers cursed him to be. 

 “In princesa,” my princess, he greeted you, reaching out to wipe the saltwater away from your eyes, “what brings you here?”

 “It is the time of the year to visit the surface, father. I was just here to let you know before I went.” His face steeled much like the other months across the century you had told him. But it was not in a place of anger—it was in a place of worry for your well-being.

 “I trust you to remember all that I have taught you. Return as soon as possible, understood?” You nodded and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight in assurance.

 “You do not have to worry. You have taught me well. And Attuma will be with me while I am out, so I shall be safe in his hands.” 

 K’uk’ulkan glanced behind you, now regarding Attuma with a nod of acknowledgement as he placed his mask on his face. Attuma bowed his head in respect and tightened the hold on his spear. The king’s brows furrowed.

 “If you bring Namora with you—”

 “Father,”  you cut him off, “I will be alright. I will not do anything to endanger myself nor Attuma. I will merely visit the borders of the reef, is all. I’m sure our warriors have already scouted the area before they were called back.”

 “In waal…”

 “We always go through this every three months. I do not doubt your worries, but place your trust in me and the warrior I have chosen.”

 Attuma straightened his back a tad bit, his chest rising in pride. He met eyes with Namora and grinned behind his mask. Namora simply replied with a silent roll of her eyes. 

 K’uk’ulkan swallowed a lump on his throat and sighed. He knew you were right. He trusted you enough that you would be safe, especially when someone as skilled as Attuma were to be by your side. It was the surface that he did not trust. It took so much from him and his forefathers even before Talokan came to be. He did not want to lose you to the claws of the surface world.

 He would have volunteered to come with you, to make sure you were safe, but one look from Namora was all he needed to know that he was needed in the council in just a few moments.

 He sighed. There was no stopping you when you had your mind set on a task.

 “Stay safe.” He gently held the back of your head and ducked down to meet your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes, squeezing his hand in assurance.

 “You sound as if I am going to war,” you joked, “I shall return safe. I promise. It is not something that I have not done before.”

 “You know your strengths, my daughter. But be wary, still. Negligence is the first sign of weakness,” he separated himself from you and turned towards the wall mounted with spears. He took one of his own and gave it to you, the vibranium of the weapon shimmering under the light of the luminescent algae. It felt balanced. Powerful. He then smiled, “and never forget your weapon.”

 You chuckled and bowed your head in respect, the spear now by your side.

 “Yes, father.”

 K’uk’ulkan turns to Attuma and beckons him forth. The warrior obeyed with no hesitance and bowed before his king. You watched as your father nodded to himself and placed a hand on Attuma’s shoulder.

 “She’s a bit of a handful, so look after her, Attuma.” You gawked at him.

 “Father!” 

 “I will do as you say, in ajawo,” my king, he said. The warrior dared to look up and showed his conviction to his king, “I will keep her safe—even when she is a handful.”

 “You did not have to agree with everything my father says!”

 Namora cleared her throat and cheekily chimed in. “K'uk'ulkan is our king. Whatever he says we agree to, princesa.”

 K’uk’ulkan ignored your huffs of protest and Namora’s silent laughter as he squinted at the man, the hand that lay on his shoulder now tightening in warning. Attuma held his ground and did not yield to his king’s hold. He knew the reason for his king’s aggression; it came from a place of protectiveness. You were his only daughter after all.

 And Attuma was a man who held a century-long love for you, something that K’uk’ulkan wasn’t particularly fond of.

 But you were too stubbornly attached to him that no scheme that K’uk’uklan thought of would separate the two of you. He was far too wrapped around your fingers to fully say no to your whims. The king’s only saving grace is the fact that you were far too oblivious to notice the affections of your own guard.

 K’uk’ulkan felt a sliver of sympathy for Attuma. Just a tad bit.

 He narrowed his eyes. “And there shall be no…detours along the way, understood? Keep the princess safe, no more than that.”

 “Yes, in ajawo.” With a final nod, K'uk'ulkan released his grip from his warrior's soldiers and bid a final farewell before being led out by Namora to the depths of Talokan. She gave Attuma a knowing glance and bowed her head before you. 

 “Be careful, princesa. The world will incur K'uk'ulkan's wrath if you return scathed.” She joked. But knowing your father, you did not doubt that he would burn the world if you would come back harmed in any way; more reasons for you to stay careful for your visit.

 You smiled. “I will be careful, Namora. Do not worry. I have Attuma with me as well.”

 She nodded and followed after her king to the water, now disappearing into your view. You faced Attuma and gave him a grin.

 “Let's go visit the surface.”

 You knew the underwater caves like the back of your hand. You weaved through the dark waters, greeting the guards hidden by the rocks. They bowed their heads and regarded you with the gesture of your people, a courtesy fit only for the daughter of their god and king.

 You smiled to yourself when Attuma swam forward when sunlight peeked through the entrance of the surface, his spear drawn and ready by his side. He looked so focused and attentive, his whole body on high alert. You giggled as you reached him and held his hand, squeezing it tightly while looking into his eyes. 

 “You are too stiff. Nothing will harm us here.” You told him. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. 

 “I am your aide. It is only natural for me, in princesa.”

 “I only wish for you to be at ease, Attuma,” you tugged him to the direction of the light, the sun now making itself known to the both of you. Attuma squinted at the sudden brightness; he wasn’t used to seeing something as intense as the real sun, after all. It was his first time visiting the surface world, “you will love the sights, I promise you.”

 Attuma felt wrong to be swimming beside you like you were equals. No aide of the high blood of Talokan should even dare to swim in stride beside a warrior who bore no rank. But by your side, he felt safe and welcomed.

 He did not feel fear despite it being the first time he had ever visited the surface world. Rather, he felt it to be…intimate, in a way. You trusted him wholeheartedly, put your safety in his hands as you ventured outside the safety of your own kingdom, and shared the experience that he knew to be significant to you even if you did not tell anyone your sentiments.

 But he knew. He always knew. 

 And he would protect you in great fealty as you explore the land that you so loved, even though he knew it would anger his own king to grant your taboo affection for the surface world.

 Away from the prying eyes of the other Talokanil, he allowed himself to indulge in his selfish desires and swam closer to you; your shoulders almost touching, hands tightly intertwined, and his heart finally free of the formalities that came with being your guard.

 He let himself become a man whose soul reached out to you in longing. 

 Your heads broke through the water and were hit by the rays of the golden sun. You let Attuma adjust to the light for a few moments, his hands shielding his eyes as he tried to view the sun from between his fingers. You watched his skin slowly turn blue as the air hit his skin, and you had to smile ever so slightly as you watched him marvel at the green forests just across the beach. 

 “Your mask.” You reminded him, the hand that was intertwined with his tightening in your hold. He nodded albeit meekly, seemingly embarrassed to have forgotten to equip himself in the midst of his awe, and let go of your hand to make sure his mask was secure.

 Attuma already missed the warmth as soon as he willed himself to part from you in a respectful distance, now aware how shameless he was to have succumbed to his own desires.

 You guided him to the rocks that overlooked the beach, just by the edge of the corals that your people have grown to create a border for those who visited the surface. It was a reminder on how you were never truly free to roam the surface and discover the riches beyond your own kingdom.

 The stories your father had told you plagued your mind, but beyond the violence that your forefathers have witnessed, robbed of the land that was yours by birthright, you wanted to see for yourself the motherland that your grandmother loved. You were angry at the surface dwellers, yes. You raged at the thought of the conquistadors that tainted your ancestral home. 

 But you never did loathe the surface. You just wanted to connect to the land of your ancestors that you were stripped of. 

 You were broken from your thoughts when you heard the squelch of water on rock. You looked beside you to see Attuma in full attention, his visage that of a man in full guard. You would have laughed if you saw him so serious in the midst of such a peaceful afternoon, but you knew how much his duty to you and your king meant to him.

 Attuma stood by your side whilst you leaned back and rested your feet on the water. You patted the space beside you, but he shook his head. You pouted. 

 “Join me to rest. You are not bound by the rules of my father here,” you told him, your face cracking into a mischievous smile, “be at ease, Attuma.”

 “Is that an order?” He gave you a glance, his eyes twinkling under the sun. Only now did you appreciate his dark gaze. It was as intense as it was full of life. You giggled and patted the empty space beside you once again. 

 “A request.”

 He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes locking into yours and sending shivers down your spine. You held his gaze, the water on your skin turning cold when the breeze hit your flesh. With a huff, he put down his spear and sat next to you, his hand dangerously close to your own. 

 “If you’ll allow me.”

 In silence did you bask in the beauty of the faraway beach that should have been inherited to you by your ancestors. The lands that stretched across the plains and the jungles of vivid colors would have been yours to rule by your father’s side. It pained you to know that you cannot even set foot on those beaches.

 It was the order of your father. The order of your king.

 An order to protect you from the surface dwellers that took your grandmother from him.

 It only served to remind you that—despite the feathered ankles that promised you freedom—you were caged in this lonely corner of the earth, away from the adventures that you wanted to experience in full. 

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked your guard, your eyes following the birds that idly preened themselves on the branches. Attuma stared at you from the corner of his eyes, his lips turning into a smile as you leaned forward in interest. 

 “Quite so.” His heart skipped a beat when your eyes twinkled in amazement, your gaze never wandering from the land. 

 “Would it be shameless of me to long for the surface?” You asked him suddenly. Attuma shook his head quickly. 

 “Never.”

 “Speak your mind. I did not ask you to indulge me and curry my favor,” you sighed and wrought your fingers together, your hand now leaving the proximity of your guard’s own, “I ask you for counsel, Attuma. You are one of the few people that I trust.”

 Attuma was silent as he mulled over your question. An aide to the heir of the throne must only listen and follow their whims. The will of their masters were the will of their followers; he dare not disobey such courtesy.

 But in the freedom of the duty that binded him to such rules by your order, he granted himself full autonomy. 

 “It might be so, in princesa,” you looked at him curiously. He held the urge to submit to you, to take back the words of his own opinion, and continued on, “you are the heir to Talokan, the nation built on the suffering of our ancestors who fled the land to hide in the sea. To long for the surface is a defiance to their dying will.”

 “But we were robbed of our ancestral lands. What if I long to get it back? To let our people walk in the motherland that we once came from? To let them see this; the beauty that they were deprived of when we were chased off our own inheritance?” “Then you should be prepared for war.” 

 He looked directly into your eyes, ones that held such young wisdom and hope. But he knew from the countless battles he fought that to reclaim the stolen land you wished to rule is to declare a fight that you were far too merciful to lead.

 “To reclaim the right that we once owned…you must be ready to shed blood; both the blood of the surface and the blood of your people. But to declare battle you must reveal our nation. Our king’s will shall not allow such a thing.”

 Attuma watched as you lowered your head, trapped in the swirl of your thoughts as you continued to deliberate the weight of his words. He flagrantly allowed himself to reach for your hand first, draw circles on the back of your hand tenderly, and scooted himself closer so his hulking gait would protect you from the prying eyes of the world. 

 You squeezed his hand with yours, your breath stuttering at your next words.

 “And what if I still desire to reclaim our land back, Attuma?” You looked up and held his gaze, your eyes now steeling itself to one of conviction.

 He smiled.

 “Then I shall shed blood for your will, in princesa.”

 You searched for any sort of hesitation in his strong features, to try and coax out any sort of loose ends of his loyalty. But you saw nothing of such sort; there only lay pure faith to your very existence, one that you recognize as unyielding. 

 You stared at him right in the eye. It was piercing, cold. One that beckoned utmost honesty from your aide. It was not a simple decision to make—even the words you have uttered this very moment would be considered blasphemous. Outright treacherous.

 “Even if it means to defy the orders of your king?”

 He did not waver as he replied.

 “You are the one that I serve. My loyalty lies with you.” He took his spear and knelt before you, his one knee digging into the rock in which you lay. He pierced his weapon down into the earth, took your hand to rest upon his cheek, and presented himself to the utmost fidelity.

 “Have you not sworn your service under the name of my father?”

 “I have sworn nothing,” he practically growled, his grip on his spear tightening, “I long for nothing more than to swear my piety to you. I am indebted to K’uk’ulkan; I revere him as my god and king. Yet I cannot stand the thought of offering my loyalties to anyone else but you.”

 You felt your heart throb against your chest, your eyes stinging with wet tears. It was a feeling foreign to you. The waves usually wipe your tears away at the bottom of the sea. But here on land, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was an overwhelming feeling, one that urged you to cover your mouth to stifle your joyous sobs.

 In the face of the man you had grown up with, in the presence of such undying loyalty did you fail to mask your elation. Yet your head was muddled with confusion—why was he always so devoted to you? Why would he risk being cast out when your father still sits on the throne and swears his loyalties to you? Why was he so willing to defy the orders of his king for your selfish whims?

 You knew the weight of a warrior's oath. It was not something to be taken lightly. Warriors would swear upon the names of leaders who have fought countless battles, led the charge to warfare, and those who were considered gods like your father.

 You were none of those.

 You were not your father.

 “Why?” You asked him, your hands trembling against his cheek. “Compared to my father, I am nothing. Why would you swear your loyalty to me when I have nothing to give you in return? It will still be years—centuries, even—before I could inherit the throne and bear the title of queen mother. So why?”

 Silence fell between the two of you, the waves of the high afternoon playing the symphonies of its motherlands. You felt like you were suffocating despite the beauty that surrounded you while you waited for him to speak.

 Finally, Attuma slowly raised his head and kissed the palm of your hand. It brought a wave of heat from the back of your neck to your cheeks, and even the tips of your pointed ears warmed at the gesture. 

 “Will you allow me to speak out of turn?” He asked you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. You blinked back the tears that obscured your vision and nodded.

 “Speak your mind, Attuma.”

 He breathed in a stuttering breath, the hand that held yours tightening and trembling. It made you nervous; a warrior such as he, the embodiment of a shield that protects his nation, stuttered and shook in your hold. He could overpower you at any second, purge the world of your existence, but here he was, weak and vulnerable in your presence. 

 He locked eyes with you, those gorgeous oaken eyes stared deep into your very being without reservation. You found yourself feeling faint, as if you have fallen into a pleasant trap that you weren’t too keen on getting out of. 

 And with a steady voice he said;

 “I love you, in princesa. I always have since we were children. I only breathe to serve you, only live to please you. If you so asked me to burn the world and slay your enemies, then I will show you the ashes of their bones on a jaden chest. If you asked me to become your shield, then I shall parry every blade for you and protect you with my last breath. If you asked me to become your spear, then the blood of your foes shall dye the sea in red…” 

 He paused as he drew closer, the heat of his body enveloping you in a sensation of great adoration. He gripped your hand tighter, his lips lingering on your palms as he leaned further into your touch. 

 “...and if you asked me to become your beloved, then I will become the most faithful man you would ever lay your eyes upon—for your joys are my joys, and your sorrows are mine to bear.”

 You felt your throat constrict, the heat from your face now traveling down to the tips of your fingers down to the very ends of your feathered ankles. Your wings bristled and shook, your breath hitching at every breath, and you felt the sudden urge to look away from those unwavering eyes. But the gravity of his own magnetism was enough to drive you back in; to never tear your gaze away from the man that confessed his love for you.

 Though this begs the question; did you love him back?

 Attuma must have misunderstood your silence for rejection, so he slowly removed your hands from his cheeks and bowed his head in shame.

 “I have spoken out of turn. I apologize,” he held his spear tightly, but he never removed himself from his bow—a sign of his submission to you, “whether or not you accept my feelings, I will still stay by your side. I will serve under you, make my oath in the witness of K’uk’ulkan of my loyalty to you. I will ask for nothing more.”

 Your heart broke at how easily it was for him to apologize. No person should ever apologize for the feelings that they bear. It only proved how devoted the great warrior was to you; for him to present his feelings of love to you and still offer his loyalty in the face of rejection. 

 You recounted the days of your youth down to the decades worth of memories with him. How could you have been so blind to have ignored the signs of his affections? How blinded were you with your duties that you allowed yourself to turn away from the subtle declarations of his feelings for you?

 How foolish were you to actually dismiss your own feelings for him? You love Attuma. You always have.

 “Why have you not said anything in the century we have been together?” You asked him, your voice low and meek. You did not want to lose the warmth of his skin, so you gently lifted his head with both of your hands and let him meet your eyes. 

 You saw the gaze of your warrior waver.

 “My duty is to protect you. How dare I be so impertinent as to bear feelings for the daughter of my own king?”

 You shook your head and leaned in to rest your forehead against his. You heard the clatter of his vibranium spear on the rocks and into the water below. But you simply did not care at that moment. 

 “You are never impertinent, not when I bear the same love for you as you have for me.”

 You heard his breath hitch. The hands that lay dutifully to his side now flying up to your face and hold your cheeks so delicately. In the large and dependable hands of your warrior did you feel safe and loved. It was unlike the other times that he had shown you affection when you were merely just friends.

 What were you now, you wondered, now that you and him share the same feelings.

 In that moment of solace did Attuma realize his place, but he did not dare remove his hands from you. He ghosted his fingers over your pointed ears, tangled his hands with your wet hair, and held you tight like you were the most precious thing in the sea. 

 He was but a mere warrior—a shameless peasant whose hands had brazenly touched the skin of his master. 

 “I am just a warrior without a title. You cannot possibly love me as I am.”

 “But I do. I just have never realized it sooner, in yakunaj.” My love, an endearment that made Attuma’s heart flutter and weak against your hands. 

 “And when we are in the eyes of scrutiny, what then should you do?”

“It matters not, my dear warrior.” 

 “But your majesty—!”

 “Am I not the heir to the throne of Talokan? Am I not the princess whose rule is imminent in the witness of your king? Of whom I shall love is a matter of my own choice that not even the feathered serpent god could refute.”

 You drew in closer and wrapped your arms around him. He was strong and powerful, but in your arms did he surrender himself. He was not the warrior you knew him to be. In your arms, he was just a man who held a century worth of ardor.

 “I dare not disgrace you, in princesa. I have nothing in my name but the battles that I have fought as a mere soldier.”

 He removed himself from you and held you tenderly by the cheeks. You leaned against his touch, completely surrendering to the feelings that you have long since ignored since the beginning. He inched himself closer and continued to speak with great affection.

 “But if I would be so bold to ask for you to wait; wait for me to garner titles of my own, build the foundations of my exploits, and ask you again to become mine, would you be so merciful as to grant such a plea?”

 You stared at his resolve, the gaze of the man you have realized you have loved now asking you for the mercy to wait. You cupped his strong jaw and caressed his cheek with your thumb as you said;

 “I will grant you mercy, in yakunaj, only if you fulfill my wish.”

 He became alert, his body ready to grant your desires.

 “Anything, in princesa. Anything for your majesty.”

 “Then I wish for you to call me by my name, I beg you. We bear more than just pleasantries of warrior and royal.”

 He gave you a smile, one that even his mask could not hide, and leaned in to touch his forehead against yours.

 “Is that an order?”

 You smiled. 

 “A request.”

It was merely a few decades later that the great capital city of Talokan was abuzz with the whispers of a great blessing bestowed upon their royal heir. It lit the fire of pride within the citizens of the hidden nation, a pride that K’uk’ulkan wore with high regard as he descended to present himself on the forefront of his throne. 

 Their darling princess, the radiant pearl of the deep sea, was ready to assume the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s legacy. 

 As your citizens have revered your father as the god king of your people, they have revered you as the same; a deity whose hands extended to the waters to create a shield of protection, a divine being whose mercy radiates the warmth of a thousand suns, the daughter of the feathered serpent god whose wings carried you through the winds of battle through the century. Your chest bloomed with unending bliss when you realized you've lived up to the name of your father—an entity that you've molded yourself into the likeness of.

 You had held the expectations of the name of K’uk’ulkan to your very heart, and you were thrilled at the fact that your father had acknowledged your efforts in the witness of your people.

 Your kingdom cheered and praised your name as you descended into the throne room from above, the feathered headpiece similar to your father’s symbolizing your authority as heir apparent of Talokan. Your father extended his hand for you to take, and you had done so with such grace befitting of your title as radiant pearl of the sea.

 And there he had presented you with a throne of your own, just below the teeth of the monster of the deep oceans that he had slain many years ago. It was decorated with the finest of jade, vibranium, and gold with the likeness of an open shell. Compared to his throne that was decorated with the splendor of his long battles, yours was the embodiment of the abundant riches of your nation. 

 It was a symbol, perhaps, that the toil of your father’s work had borne fruit of great wealth to Talokan and passed down to the generations that would come next.

 The radiant pearl of the sea had finally assumed her reign as heir apparent after a century of her rule by the feathered serpent god’s side, and there was no one in the kingdom who would oppose to the majesty of K’uk’ulkan’s daughter—not because she had the blood of their king in her veins and the feathered ankles that proved her divine lineage—but because of her love for her people and the duties that she had so diligently carried with grace.

 K’uk’ulkan swam to your side and guided you to rest upon your new throne. It was a new feeling for you, one that could not compare to the childish wonder that you had just sitting on the lap of your father when you were still a wee babe. In the high seat of your throne did you overlook the citizens that had adored you, watched as they bowed their heads and put their hands in the likeness of a serpent’s mouth as respect to your inauguration.

 As much as you loved to see your people acknowledge you, you could not find a glimpse of your best friend and secret lover. To you, their opinions were the only ones that mattered. It would not feel as joyous as it is if they were not to witness your greatest achievements. 

 Where were they, you wondered. They promised to be here in time for your ceremony.

 “Something troubles you, in waal.” your father beside you, the feathers from his headpiece tickling the sides of your cheek. You gave him a smile, one that masked your worries, and found comfort in the hands that gripped yours reassuringly.

 “Namora and Attuma are not here,” you supplied him, your eyes scanning the crowd of your people, “I worry for them. They promised they would come.”

 K’uk’ulkan smiles and brings his hand to caress the base of your neck tenderly and rest his decorated forehead on your own. Your breath, which you didn’t realize had become labored, instantly calmed at the mere comfort of your father.

 “Quell your nerves, my daughter. They will come.” With a knowing smile, your father separated himself from you and swam up to sit in the jaws of his own throne. The people all cheered while chanting the words of praise to Talokan’s honor.

 K’uk’ulkan puts his hand up slowly and everyone falls into a hush. The air was still buzzing, the water under your command feeling the energy of everyone’s bated breaths as they awaited the words of their king.

 “We honor the place of my only child as the rightful heir of Talokan. She has proven herself worthy of such a title for a century, and the seas have blessed us with such excellence that no one could dare defy. The future of Talokan is bright.” 

 Your people cheered and hollered, yet your eyes still strain to find your best friend and lover. You tried your best not to feel upset, but you felt a painful twist on your heart.

 Where were they? It was unlike them to break their promises, especially your beloved warrior, Attuma.

 “Not only do we celebrate the coronation of my daughter’s place in my council, but we celebrate the oath of our two new generals.” your father continued, your head snapping up at the familiar silhouette of your secret lover up the grand entrance of your underwater throne room. Your heart settled and you smiled in great pride as your father presented them at last.

 “Namora and Attuma, the new grand generals of Talokan.”

 They extruded such power as they descended ever so slowly, the light of the vibranium sun creating a halo of light around their bodies. They wore new armor that suited their character; the likeness of the spines of a lionfish adorned the body of your best friend, Namora, and the skull of a hammerhead shark and the spikes of its teeth littering every crevice of Attuma’s plated armor. Both of them held their respective weapons made of vibranium, and you could only smile at how proud you were for them.

 You couldn't help but ogle at the sight of your warrior. You had kept your word and waited for him to finally gather his own accomplishments before asking for your hand. But that did not stop you from sneaking off and relishing yourselves in each other’s company. No one had ever suspected anything yet, but you gathered that your people were still under the impression that Attuma only bears one-sided love for you. 

 Oh your poor love, you didn’t mean to make him wait for so long.

 You wondered when he would finally ask for your hand, to finally make your blooming romance known to your father and your citizens. It filled you with warmth just thinking about the possibilities.

 You and Attuma locked eyes as soon as they had finished their descent, his eyes raking across your figure sat on your jeweled throne. He felt the need to kiss you right then and there, a privilege he had not yet taken across the decades of your secret romance in respect to his promise. He dared not touch you so inappropriately when you were not yet his, but he was sure to finally claim you as his own.

 You were a jewel in Attuma’s eyes. A gem fit to be heralded around in great praise to your charm. Although your beauty spoke wonders of your outward appearance, you were a strong warrior, maybe even as strong as Namora. You are wise like your father, and you cared for your kingdom in the ways that a mother would.

 You were crowned princess of Talokan, heir to the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s majesty, and the future queen mother of your nation. 

 Attuma could not even begin to describe in words such a blessing that fell into his hands so tenderly. 

 As soon as they were done taking their oath, bowed before you and K’uk’ulkan to swear their undying fidelity to your nation of Talokan, Attuma and Namora shared one look before your warrior ascended alone, careful to keep his gait below your eyes and on the feet of your throne. Your people fell into a hush, the momentary celebration ceasing to wait for Attuma’s next words.

 “In princesa,” he started, his eyes looking up to lock eyes with your father, “K’uk’ulkan. If I may speak.”

 “Attuma,” he regarded the warrior, his head held high in authority, “what do you wish to say?”

 “My fealty lies with no one but the princess,” he bowed low and presented presented his spear by the jewels that adorned your throne, “the oath I shall take is one reserved to be of service of her, and if she wills me to serve under you, K’uk’ulkan, then I shall do so with no question.”

 You waited with bated breath as your father stood from his throne and descended to stand in front of your warrior. Your heart thumped in your chest as you saw your father inch closer to him, his hand now resting on his shoulders and urging Attuma to rise. 

 “You have done a great deal for the name of my daughter, but the decision is hers to make.” K’uk’ulkan started, his voice carrying nothing but tender command. He turned towards you and beckoned you forward. You did so without question and swam beside your father.

 “Do you accept his oath, in waal?”

 There was no other answer for such a question. It was something that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your blossoming romance, the fantasy that you had always dreamed to come into fruition.

 With a smile that would outshine the stars of the night, you eagerly replied. 

 “I shall accept your oath with open arms, Attuma. My dear warrior.”

 Your people broke into joyous cheers as Attuma rose from his bow. You turned to pick the spear by the feet of your throne and presented it to him with a proud grin. He replied in kind, kissing the vibranium shaft that touched your hand as soon as he had received it. Heat traveled up your neck and into the tips of your pointed ears at the gesture, your fingers wringing together in bashful fluster.

 K’uk’ulkan smiled at the exchange, but he could not help but urge you away from the warrior and back to your throne. He could not help himself—you were far too precious to be in the presence of a man who fancied you all his life.

 The king turned to Attuma and regarded him with a nod and gesture of Talokan’s respect, the warrior replying in kind.

 “Serve her well, Attuma.”

 Before K’uk’ulkan could return to his throne, Attuma rose high and proud, brandishing his weapon only he could ever wield with such power. A show of strength, if you will, that left the people at awe at the display of his prowess.

 “My king! If I may be so bold, I have something to ask of you.” He declared, his voice loud and strong. Your brows furrowed in confusion at such a statement; what else did Attuma need when he had already pledged his service to you?

 You held the urge to giggle when your father turned with an amused chuckle of his own.

 “What is it?”

 Attuma turned towards you, the both of you locking eyes. And in that moment, he sent you an affectionate grin.

 And then realization hit you.

 He wasn’t going to—!

 “I wish for your permission to court your daughter, the princess.” Murmurs and excited gasps spread across the hall. You see Namora grinning to herself staring at Attuma, impressed. Your cheeks burned with heat, your chest pounding at how incredibly mad Attuma was for declaring something as bold as a courting during your coronation as crown heir. 

 But it was something that you absolutely loved about your warrior, no matter how insane he was to declare his desire to court you in front of the entire kingdom.

 Your father stiffened, his eyes steeled and ready to pounce at Attuma. He had to hold himself back—there was no reason for him to needlessly attack his finest warrior just because he expressed his desire to court you. He could not even dismiss such thought; the titles and the achievements of Attuma held far more worth than any man in Talokan. 

 From where it stands, and with your close relationship with the warrior, he was by far the only man worthy of your affection.

 And so, with a reluctance that held every possible threat in the world, K’uk’ulkan replied. 

 “Prove to me your worth, Attuma, for the radiant pearl of the sea does not need an incompetent suitor to court her.”

 “Father!” You hissed quietly. You felt your father’s animosity course through you in waves. You had to resist the urge to groan and sigh; he was so protective of you.

 But Attuma did not seem phased as he spoke steadily.

 “By your will, K’uk’ulkan.”

 In the eyes of your people did you swim beside your father and held his arm reassuringly. His steely gaze finally fell as he looked at you, and you allowed yourself to swim to the level of his ears and whisper, “Please be gentle with Attuma, father. I also bear feelings for him.”

 He looked at you like he was betrayed, but he was not surprised. How could you not have told him about your budding feelings for the warrior?

 Then again, he knew the throes of a woman when it came to sharing their romantic feelings, so he did not blame you for keeping it a secret from him, your own father.

 “How long have you known?”

 “A few decades,” you smiled sheepishly, “do not be so hard on the warrior that I have chosen. He means it in good faith, and he has done nothing to cross any boundaries set by your command.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “I swear it upon my name and crown, father.”

 Your father pondered on your words for a little while longer and resigned with a sigh. You pressed your forehead against your father’s and giggled.

 “Thank you for your leniency, my king.”

 You separated yourself from your father and swam forward to Attuma. He gave you a cheeky grin, one that screamed unapologetic mischief. You shook your head, amused as his antics, as you raised your hand to cup his cheek.

 “My father has given his word; prove to him that you are worthy of my hand so we will be together, my dear warrior.”

 He dared cup your hands that feathered along his strong jaw and leaned into your touch. You could feel your father’s piercing stare, but the both of you ignored it, too engrossed in your own little world in the watchful eyes of your nation.

 “Is that an order?” He asked you, his eyes boring into yours with such intensity that would have sent you immediately to your knees.

 You leaned in close until your lips met the base of his mighty headpiece, the jagged teeth of the hammerhead shark that he had slain digging firmly into the skin of his forehead. When you parted, you stared into his eyes; the eyes that held nothing but veneration to your glorious name. 

 And with a tender whisper to your beloved, you replied.

 “A request.”

Anyone up for a Part 2? >:))

Taglist: @haideehaids  @xnodamsel

[witchychanel]

this shit is so fucking funny lmaooo

[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt. 3

Part One  |  Part Two

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language, Violence, Depictions of drowning, Fluff

Summary: Delivered to safety following the battle on the beach, you are left reeling as you grapple with nightmares and questions about an uncertain future. But as you come to know more about the Talokanil people and grow closer to their king, Namor is faced with a question of his own -- what does he do with this stranger from the surface?

A/N: It’s heeeeeere!! As always, thank you so much for your patience, for being here, and for reading! And a BIG thank you just for taking the time to engage with and be a part of this story. You all have been so encouraging to me as new writer, and I love being able to create something around characters that so many hold so dear. Comments and reblogs make my heart happy, so please show some love, share the joy, and be kind!

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

Bullets fly as bodies hit the ground in front of you. There on the open beach, spears soar high above your head. Your gaze is drawn to the heavens as a chopper falls from the night sky. It crashes onto the shore below, an intense heat flashing against you as you shield your face from the explosion.

Suddenly, the sounds of dying men and burning metal fade as you lower your hand. You look down to find yourself waist-deep in a raging sea, the battle on the sand becoming a distant memory as waves beat harshly against you, unrelenting and unforgiving. A deafening melody accompanies each swell of the tide. It consumes your mind with pain and serenity as you are pulled further out into the ocean’s depths, following its call. The chorus grows louder as the water rises to your chest, building with intensity. Then, suddenly, all is quiet.

And there he is.

Hovering just above the water’s surface, his winged ankles carry him effortlessly. His reflection glistens perfectly against the water, now calm and smooth as glass. Illuminated by the full moon behind him, his body is covered in beautiful armor made of gold, jade, and other metals. A finely crafted serpent headpiece with bright feathers crowns his head, resting just above his brow.

Namor.

Wordlessly, Namor stretches out his hand, beckoning you to come to him. You reach out as if your very being is at his command. But, before you can grasp hold of him, the chorus of voices returns with a vengeance. A violent tide drags you under, swallowing you beneath the waves. Further and further down you are pulled as darkness surrounds you. Looking up toward the fading light, Namor’s silhouette above the surface dissolves from view. Your lungs burn as you begin to drown.

You jolt awake, your body shooting up in a cold sweat.

Chest heaving, your mind desperately claws its way back to reality. You quickly scan your surroundings, clinging to any detail that will anchor your consciousness and keep you from slipping back into that nightmare.

Gripping the stone surface beneath you, you take in every porous curve your fingertips graze over. Looking upward at the high rocky ceiling, you study the patterns of limestone stalactites that hang like icicles. Droplets of water run down a few of them, their melodious drips echoing in small pools below, falling like a gentle, rhythmic rain.

This is the place Namor had spoken of the last time you saw him. The one where he promised you would be safe. And for good reason — here in this cavern, you were well below the ocean’s surface and out of range of any agents who might come searching for you.

By your best guess, you figure you have been down here about two days. It’s hard to be sure without the reference to natural light. The cavern itself is beautiful, though. Illuminated by pockets of glow worms that drape down from the ceiling, their soft luminescence casts gorgeous green and blue hues across each surface their light touches.

As your heart rate begins to even out, you continue to survey the cave. You look over at your belongings, bag laying on the ground, clothes hanging on a line to dry. Your heart drops a bit when you see your little leather-bound book, its pages separated and spread out across the rocks. Ink bleeding. Pages ruined. You had made your best attempt to salvage what you could. Perhaps if you had asked Namora how the two of you would be traveling to this safe haven, you wouldn’t have brought a damn book with you.

The dissonance of the Talokan melody still rings in the back of your mind. You cradle your head between your knees, rubbing your temples with your thumbs when you hear light footsteps approach.

Looking up, you find a familiar face entering the cavern. No longer geared up for battle, Namora dawns a lovely dress that gathers over one shoulder and flows down to the floor. It moves like waves with each step she takes toward you. Instead of a spear in her hand, she now carries a small tray with a medley of food.

“Eat," Namora says, placing the tray on a small end table beside you. She then moves gracefully over to your draped belongings, removing them one by one from the line and folding them into a neat pile.

“Can I ask you a question?” You inquire as you begin to nibble on a piece of food.

Namora shoots a skeptical look over her shoulder but says nothing, so you ask anyway.

“Have you always been a warrior?”

Unresponsive, she keeps her attention on one of your shirts which she has just pulled from the line, tucking it into itself and placing it with the others.

“It's just, I mean the way you fought those agents on the beach, you are — you are very good at, you know—” you should have given more thought to what you were going to say before opening your mouth because as you reach the end of your sentence all that comes out is, “—killing people."

Nice.

You cringe at your comment. It hangs in the air, practically mocking you.

“I’m just saying," you add, trying to recover, "you obviously know what you’re doing. It was impressive. Me on the other hand…” Your voice trails as you raise your bandaged hand, recalling how your first instinct in a fight was to block a fucking knife with your open palm. Next to Namora, your combat skills pale by comparison.

Halting her task, Namora finally turns to face you in one calculated motion. She stares for a moment then her eyes quickly dart toward the side entrance of the cavern where she had come through only minutes ago. The entryway is empty. When her eyes settle back on you, there is resolve in them.

“Up.” She says, walking toward you with purpose.

“What?” You reply in a tone that matches the confused look on your face.

“Up.”

You do as you are told, hastily pushing yourself to your feet. Namora steps in close and then taps your elbows.

“Up.” She orders a third time, only now she seems to be referring specifically to your arms. You follow her instruction, raising them awkwardly out in front of your body. You can almost hear the sigh of hopelessness when Namora, her brow furrowed, grabs your arms and positions each one in a fighting stance. Slipping a hand up to your left wrist, she grips it firmly while tapping your exposed forearm with the palm of her other hand.

“Shield.” She says with emphasis. Her eyebrows raise, looking for any indication that you comprehend what she is trying to explain. When you nod, Namora moves her hand from your wrist up to your fingers, balling them into a fist and tucking your thumb on the outside.

“Weapon.”

Namora then steps back from you, putting her own arms up to mirror your stance.

“Shield, weapon,” she repeats, patting her forearm and waving her closed fist.

“Shield, weapon,” you echo back to her, nodding your head again as you begin to understand more fully.

Just as she begins to step back toward you, a deep voice calls from behind.

“Namora.”

You both look up to see the large man who wears the hammerhead skull standing in the entry of the cavern. Attuma is his name, as you have come to learn. Namora straightens her posture as she turns to face him, her hands behind her back as she squares her shoulders in a commanding stance.

Attuma saunters a few more feet into the cavern, then speaks to her in their native tongue, a language still unfamiliar to you. The two of them converse back and forth for a few moments. You may not know what they are saying, but you can tell they disagree about something — whether with each other or someone else, you are not sure.

Namora swiftly turns back to you, her face serious again and her brows pinched together.

Fighting lessons must be over.

“Come,” she says.

Without any further instruction, she pivots back toward Attuma, who also turns to leave. You quickly grab your belongings which Namora had folded for you, stuffing them into your bag. You sling it around your shoulder as you exit the cavern.

Following the two generals into a tunneled hallway, you find yourself moving through a network of caves, each tunnel connecting to a series of other openings and pools. Soon, Attuma splits off into one of these open caverns, nodding to Namora as he does so. Your eyes trail him as he joins with more Talokan warriors, and just as you stare at them, they stare at you.

You continue walking behind Namora past them, their whispers reverberating through the tunnels.

“When was the last time someone… not Talokanil came here?” You ask. In typical Namora fashion, she remains silent and unresponsive to your question.

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, “back there it just seemed like they hadn’t seen someone new in a while.”

The two of you walk, furthering yourself from the turnoff where Attuma parted ways. Cautiously, you step around the uneven surfaces of the rocky ground. You can feel yourself being led deeper into the maze of caverns. If Namora decided to up and ditch you right now, you are certain you would be lost in this labyrinth forever.

“You are the first,” Namora says rather abruptly, catching you off guard. Not only does her response come well after your question was asked, but it is also the most she has ever said to you at one given time.

“The first?” You ask, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“To come here,” Namora answers. “The first surface dweller to receive Talokan’s aid. The first the king has ever…” she pauses a moment, searching for the right word, “tolerated.”

The influx of her voice is not lost on you.

“And you don’t approve?”

“It is not my place to approve, " Namora clarifies as she leads you around a bend and past several open pools of water. "I am… concerned. When it comes to you, I fear he is blind.”

Silence befalls you both again as you enter another cavern, this one much larger and more spacious than any others you have seen. Within it are several large pools, glistening with light reflected from more glow worms above. Their tendrils hang from the high vaulted ceiling like sparkling chandeliers.

In the center of it all stands a large hut enclosed by beautifully woven fabrics. You follow Namora shoulder to shoulder up the stone-carved steps to it until you nearly reach the side.

“We’re here,” Namora says, coming to a dead stop. She then takes a step back from you.

Still unsure of where “here” is exactly, you glance over your shoulder, looking to her for further instruction or explanation. But Namora gives you nothing. The moment you begin to take a step backward as well, her hand shoots out, holding the back of your shoulder in position with a firm grip.

Ah. Don't move. Got it.

Subconsciously you begin to hold your breath, bracing yourself for the unknown.

Then, there he is.

From around the corner of the hut comes Namor. Immediately you are taken aback by his appearance. Up to this point, you have only seen him suited for battle. Now he stands before you dawning a beautifully woven cape plated with gold and draped across his broad shoulders. His hair is slicked back and his arms are adorned with various metal cuffs. Truly a wardrobe fit for a king.

A single nod of his head and Namora is dismissed. You hear her small footsteps fade as she leaves the two of you alone.

“How is your hand?”

Namor’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you raise your hand, glancing at the worn bandage. "It’s fine, thank you.”

Staring at the gauze, you can almost hear the lullaby Namor hummed as he gently tended to your wounded palm the night of the battle. Something flutters inside you as you touch the corner of the fabric. Realizing your mind has drifted again, you bring yourself back to reality by following up with your own question.

"Are we in..." you stop to rephrase, shifting your weight from side to side as you look around the cavern, “Is this… Talokan?"

If it is, it's very different from what you pictured.

Your question brings a smile to Namor’s face.

"No," he answers with a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "Talokan is far beyond this place. I assure you, your body would not survive the journey to its depths. But these caverns are safe, I promise you.”

Namor then shifts the topic of conversation.

“I am told some of your belongings were ruined on your traveling here, including your book. I apologize. I had hoped to make up for it.”

With one arm, Namor ushers you around the corner to the entrance of his quarters, inviting you inside.

Intrigued and eager to see what awaits, you accept his invitation. As you enter, you find yourself in a study of sorts. Lit by several lanterns, the room is warm and bright. Within it sits a small table, a prominent desk full of scrolls and artifacts, and a cozy hammock hung in the corner. But what catches your eye most of all are the walls.

All around you hang gorgeous tapestry walls with breathtaking murals that stretch from floor to ceiling.

“Did you do all of these?” You ask in disbelief as you move to one at the far end of the room. Your eyes widen as you gaze in admiration at the beautiful artistry.

“Yes,” Namor answers humbly, following behind you. “I think you will find a more accurate depiction of my history here.”

“I don’t know,” you say with playful skepticism in your voice as you inspect the artwork closer, “always be weary of your authors, right?” You smirk as you shift your glance sideways to Namor, echoing his words back to him in jest. His face is serious at first but quickly turns to amusement.

“You remembered,” he says nodding his head, an impressed grin now stretching at the corners of his mouth, “that is good.”

You return your attention to the paintings. What a gift it is to be standing here in front of them. Full of stories, full of history. And to be accompanied by the man who created them himself — who lived them himself. It is all a far cry from the vague glyphs you tried so hard to decipher in your book.

"They're amazing." You say in awe, following along the panels as you trace the line work delicately with your fingertip.

Immersed in the murals, you are too busy to notice Namor's softening gaze as he watches you study his work so intently. Here you are, an outsider who he has welcomed into his space. It is not like him to be so open, especially not with a stranger from the surface — never someone from the surface — yet, something about you causes a stirring inside of him. Perhaps it is your enthusiasm and wonders for his culture or your refreshing dose of humanity towards his people that compels his desire to be close to you.

As you follow the artwork from panel to panel across the walls, you arrive at a scene that suddenly makes you freeze. Your wrist snaps your finger back as if repelled by the paint itself. In front of you is a large image of Namor dawning a serpent headpiece as he hovers above the water. You are immediately back in your nightmare, your mind flashing to Namor’s outstretched hand then the darkness that closes in around you as you start to drown. You can almost feel the fire in your lungs as they grow desperate for air.

“What troubles you?” Namor asks with genuine traces of concern in his voice. Your sudden silence has not gone unnoticed. He moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, looking up to analyze the same part of the mural.

"Nothing," you lie, shaking your head while your hand drops to your side. You withdraw from the painting, taking a few steps back from it and Namor.

“Your people," you say to change the subject, pointing your thumb to the rest of the artwork in the room, "they honor you. It's admirable, what you've done for them. To keep them safe all this time."

“But?” He senses there is more on your mind.

You stare at him, then turn your focus back to the tapestries surrounding you. Scanning them from wall to wall, you notice a pattern in the stories shown.

“It’s just,” you begin with uncertainty in your voice “for someone who has spent his whole life bringing peace to his people, I wonder how much of it you have experienced for yourself?”

Namor is quiet for a moment.

"And why do you wonder this?" He finally replies, turning to face you fully.

“I guess I look at these and I’m curious… how? How can you do that without completely breaking under the weight of it all? Even with—” you begin gesturing to his body and suddenly become desperate to come up with the right words in time, “superhuman strength.” Thank god.

“Hmmm,” Namor exhales, thoughtfully nodding as his gaze drops to the floor. He folds his arms over his chest, the golden band around his exposed bicep reflecting the light that softly glows from a nearby lantern. Taking a few steps toward you, he lifts his eyes to yours.

“It is true,” he says, “the burden I carry for the sake of my people does not always permit me the personal luxury of peace. It… can be difficult.” His tone shifts from diplomatic to vulnerable. “And who is to say I have not broken under it? It is that brokenness that has made me the leader I am.”

Turning his head toward the mural, he looks at it carefully before speaking again. His chiseled jawline accentuates the exposed veins protruding from his neck.

"To your question,” he continues, “I believe how is never as important as why. Why would someone fight to bring others peace when they themselves cannot have it?” Namor takes another step closer and lifts his hand to your chin, delicately angling your face upward toward his own. "Because we sacrifice to protect what we love.”

His eyes search yours earnestly. After a moment, Namor quickly drops his hand from your chin and you watch as he moves towards his desk, shuffling a few scrolls around before looking back up at you again.  

“I love my people,” he says, planting his hand firmly on the desk, “and I have seen evil, what it is capable of. I watch as the rest of the world grows desperate in their greed and ambition, their desire for power. They are becoming more dangerous by the day."

"You mean — surface dwellers?" You ask.

Namor raises his brow at you knowingly.

"Yes,” he answers cooly.

"I'm a surface dweller. Am I...dangerous?"

Namor sighs with a small smile.

“Yes. Though not in the way you may think.”

He moves from out behind his desk and back over in your direction.

“Now I have a question for you,” he says in a low voice, approaching you with a dark look looming over his face. “Please consider your answer carefully.”

The silence is intense. Your heart feels like it is going to jump out of your throat as you anticipate what damning question the king of Talokan has in store for you.

Namor’s expression changes on a dime, and he suddenly asks in a lighthearted tone,

“Are you up for a swim?”

—

You follow Namor out of his quarters and into the large open cavern. As you pass by several beautiful pools of water, you are enchanted by how the light dances across the rich tones of Namor's skin. The same light casts dazzling hues of aquamarine and cerulean across the surface of the pools, reflected onto the rocks surrounding them.

Namor approaches one of the bigger pools and removes the cape from his shoulder, exposing his bare chest underneath. Here is the Namor you recognize - prominent necklace, bare chest,  emerald green shorts. Before dropping his cape to the ground, however, he pulls out a Talokan mask from the fabric like the ones Namora and the other warriors wear.

“Take a deep breath,” Namor says as he turns to you. He pushes your hair back from your cheek delicately as he applies the apparatus to your face. Doing as you are told, you inhale deeply as the mask fastens over your nose and mouth.

“Stay close,” he instructs. You nod, and Namor steps to the edge of the closest pool. He looks back at you with a hint of a smile on his face. Then, with all the strength and grace of a god, he dives perfectly into the water and disappears under the surface.

You step closer to the pool. The faint rhythm of droplets falling from the ceiling rings throughout the cavern. You glance behind you toward the entrance, but there isn't a soul in sight. Namora’s words echo through your mind.

When it comes to you, he is blind.

You dive in, following Namor.

Once in the water, you quickly orient yourself. Looking around, you see the outline of Namor, his silhouette waiting for you in the distance. As you swim closer, he gestures for you to follow him. You kick your feet to propel yourself further downward, ears popping as you equalize to the increasing pressure.

You swim until you are clear of the caves. Though your muscles ache, there is something serene about being beneath the water; the quiet, the weightlessness, everything drifting harmoniously in rhythm with the current. For the first time since you can remember, your mind feels still. Free from the chaos. Somehow, the vast open sea does not frighten you with its deep blue void as it did in your dream. Not even a little. Instead, you feel a calmness in your soul as you lose track of time entirely, trailing Namor as you move through the ocean’s depths.

Quite literally in his element, you watch in awe as Namor swims so effortlessly. To him, it must be as easy as breathing. He looks more relaxed than you have seen him. Perhaps even enjoying himself?

You continue to swim, the water getting lighter as the visibility becomes clearer. A school of fish rushes past, their scales glimmering with each flick of a fin or contour of their bodies. Countless numbers weave around you in sync as if part of the same carefully choreographed ballet. You can’t help but smile as you watch them move so freely, and Namor can't help but smile as he watches you.

Suddenly the fish rapidly disperse and within seconds a huge mass flashes past you with incredible speed and agility. Your eyes widen and adrenaline rushes through you as you witness a killer whale chase the school, its size completely dwarfing your mere human frame. Involuntarily, you begin hyperventilating as you watch the giant creature swim off into the distance. When you feel a touch against your arm, you turn to find Namor next to you. His hand rises and falls in front of his torso, gesturing for you to take deep breaths. In, out. In, out.

The two of you remain suspended in the endless ocean blue as you your breath slows and your muscles recover. Namor looks upward, and as you savor the moment of rest you follow his gaze. You can tell by the light above that you are getting close to the surface, which must mean you are nearing your destination. When he nods, you know it is time to move. Slowly the two of you start your ascent and the ocean becomes warmer as you gradually near the top.

When you arise from the water, the sound of the rushing wind, the rolling waves, and birds flying overhead rush into your ears. Less than a hundred meters from you stretches a beautiful coastline covered in soft white sand and lined by rich green foliage.

You make your way towards it. Soon you are walking knee-deep in the waves, the tide splashing against the back of your legs as you near the shore. Removing the mask from your face, the sweet breeze of the island races by, rustling your wet hair and filling your nostrils with the earthy aroma of some nearby palm trees.

Namor has already reached the sand. He stands tall, water still running down his body. Staring out at the horizon, he runs his hand over his face and pushes his hair back, inadvertently flexing his bicep as he does so. The sun slowly begins its descent toward the Earth, its warm rays casting brilliant tones of red and orange across Namor’s exposed skin. It contrasts the deep blues and greens that illuminated him in the caverns, and at this point, you are confident he looks devastatingly beautiful in any light.

As you reach the shore, you take your place next to him and stare out at the skyline.

“Hard to beat a view like that,” you say breathlessly.

“My mother would always describe to me the beauty of the setting sun,” Namor responds. “I have no love for the surface world, but from time to time I visit this island. See what she saw.”

“Is this—?” You begin to ask.

“Where she is buried.” Namor answers before you finish your question. His eyes drop as he reflects, “I am not sure what I expected to see the day I came to lay her body to rest. I suppose the beauty of an island she spoke of so fondly. Instead, I found my brothers and sisters enslaved by men who took life without a second thought.” His jaw clenches as he recalls the bitter memory. “But I saw to it the favor was returned.”

His meaning is clear. You are not sure which makes you more nervous — the calm and cool way he says it, or the menacing smile that accompanies his statement. Either way, his smile disappears as quickly as it comes. You have seen Namor’s ferocity firsthand and know what he is capable of, especially when it comes to protecting his people. A nervous feeling grows in the pit of your stomach as you begin questioning his purpose in bringing you here.

You consider the facts:

You are a surface dweller.

He did call you dangerous.

Oh shit.

Anxiously you glance at him, then redirect your gaze back to the horizon to maintain your composure. The soft waves break along the shore, racing up to your ankles. As the sand beneath your feet gets pulled out by the tide, you wish with all your might you could be pulled away with it. Instead, you sink deeper into the ground, more immovable than before.

“Are you going to kill me?” The words come out blunter than you intend, but you stand by them despite the quiver in your voice.

The question pulls Namor out of his thoughts as he turns to you, eyebrows raised. He studies your face carefully before answering.

“I probably should," he says. There is no malice in his words, only honesty. “The knowledge you have of me and my people... it puts me in a difficult position.” His eyes are solemn. "But I have lived a long time, and in that time I have witnessed many in their final moments before death when one truly reveals themself. That night on the beach, in what you believed were your final moments, you kept your word to me and my people. You said nothing to those men, even with your life on the line. There is no truer test of loyalty.”

Without a word, he reaches his hand out for the mask you still carry. You cautiously hand it over.

"There is a village eastward,” Namor continues, “you will find everything you need there, and the means to leave this place."

You feel his palm slip under your fingers to receive the mask. He takes a deep breath, then purses his lips in the direction behind you.

“Or, just up the way beyond those trees is a house. It is not much, but comfortable. It is yours to use... if you wish. You would be safe here.”

The offer catches you off guard.

“I… I don't understand." You mutter in slight confusion.

With a deep inhale, Namor squints back at the setting sun to collect his thoughts. Then, taking another step closer, he eliminates virtually any remaining space between you. His eyes are deep and mesmerizing as ever. Your heart races from his sudden proximity and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to speak again. He peers down at you, so impossibly close that you can sense the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

"You are no enemy of mine," he says with authority, "and no prisoner of Talokan. You have my trust. And because of that trust, I will not order you to stay." Namor then drops the mask into the sand like it is worthless and gently slides his hands underneath your jawline, cradling your face in both of his palms. “But I am asking you to.”

You are speechless. The way he is holding your gaze, the tenderness of his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"Stay," Namor says fervently in one final clarifying word. It is not a command, but an invitation. Perhaps even a plea. But most importantly, it is a choice. Your choice.

His eyes quickly dart back up to yours as he awaits an answer, but even Namor is not strong enough to keep his attention from dropping back down to your lips. He is clearly focused on more than just the words he hopes to hear come out of them.

In an overwhelming wave of boldness, you allow instinct to take over. No lives at stake, no siren’s song  — it is only the burning desire within your very soul for him that compels you. You close your eyes and melt into Namor’s touch, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you do so, it is as if a surge of energy courses through your veins, electrifying your entire body. Namor immediately welcomes your advance, molding his lips to your own. The smooth piece of jade that pierces his septum presses cooly above your lip, contrasting the heat of his skin to ignite your senses. As he slides a hand around to the back of your neck, his fingers curl into your hair to bring you in even closer.

A small moan escapes you as the tip of his tongue traces along your bottom lip. You can feel his smile against your mouth, then a tug at the same lip with his teeth. Another invitation, to which you gladly accept. You part your mouth open to let Namor inside. Both of your tongues dance together as your kisses become deeper and more indulgent.

Consumed by his taste and his touch, you slide your hands up his bare chest, desperate for more of him. Without missing a beat, Namor responds by running his arms down your body and hoisting you up off the sand with ease. You wrap your legs around him tightly and take full advantage of this new, higher angle. Moving your mouth in tandem with his, you savor the richness of his lips and entangling your fingers in his dark locks of hair. 

The two of you ebb and flow just like the rolling ocean waves, losing yourselves in each other. It’s not until you feel a faint burning in your lungs that you face the harsh reality of having to break away for air. Everything inside you fights it. If Namor were the sea, you would gladly let yourself drown in this moment.

But Namor, also sensing your need for oxygen, begins to slow down. He lowers you gently to the ground, though he is careful not to let you slip too far away from him. The two of you breathe heavily as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. Namor gives you another passionate kiss, this one slow and deep. His lips then move to the corner of your mouth and trail up to your ear, the heat of his breath spreading like wildfire across your skin. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Holding you close, Namor leans his forehead against your temple and presses his lips against your ear.

“Please," he whispers. "Stay with me.”

--------

Tag List! (I think I got everyone who requested to be included!) @looneylikesbooks @omgsuperstarg @chixkencxrry @vainillasmil157 @demoiseller @sodonuthideout @shoutaaizawas @stany0url0calwh0res111 @hjjks @duckwithsunglasses @jamesbarnesbestgirl @nellycanwrite @namorlover @queenofthekill @uhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmm @cosmic-lavender @fckwritersblock @doimakeyounervous-blog @viktoryn @bontensbabygirl @lokidbadguy @sammi-doll483 @violet-19999 @artaxerxesthegreat @zeeader @star-dusst @hawkins-2000 @madsothree @takeheartyall @slytherheign @agustdboyoongie @nightingal3-tales @psamathegoesrawr @myotakureprieve @spideyworldsposts @ginger-swag-rapunzel  @jurneesjourney @kpopgirlbtssvt @commondazy @vicky-8426 @05-redacted @boredoutofmydamnmind @h34rtsformilli @adoiescents @ari-fay @daddyslittlevillain @namorswhore @loversjoy

[xxx-aurora-swirls]

Listen now that Black Panther is on Disney+ I’m gonna need more fanfic okay. Especially x black reader cause why is that tag so little all of their main ships are black!! Let’s keep it rolling and keep it bipoc okay us black and brown girlies deserve this!!

[feasibilities]

Headcanons about Attuma- 18+ ༄

Warnings: Dead Dove/DNE, Power Dynamics, BDSM, Risky Sex, Roleplay, Spanking, Overstimulation, etc, Author's Note: From the moment I saw him on screen, I felt like I had to bow to him. Sorry, y'all. (I also recommend looking up the positions I listed so your imagination can run wild!) 😅

༄ Attuma was training you for the impending war with the surface world. He was an uncompromising teacher.

༄ He was insistent on priming you to be the best of the best. Your training lasted for hours--repeating the same moves over and over again.

༄ As your training continued, you noticed the sexual energy that crept into your extended lessons.

༄ He became more tactile when you practiced close combat, like grabbing your hips or brushing against you from behind on purpose.

༄ Your first sexual experience with him was thrilling. If anyone saw you two, they would've seen you on your knees with his hand in your hair. He got off on the obscene noises you made & saliva dripping down your chin.

༄ He trained several others, but you became his star pupil. You accomplished this by pushing yourself beyond physical limitations...and by partaking in the iniquitous fantasies of your pedagogue.

༄ An intense, risky sexual relationship began between you two. If discovered, Attuma could've lost his ranking as General in the Talokanil army. Worst of all, Namor would've killed you both for risking the safety of his people for a quick fuck.

༄ The pleasures of your love affair outweighed the consequences, obviously.

༄ Attuma's dominance didn't waver in bed. In fact, you think it was magnified.

༄He always put you in the most indecent positions (ex: Seashell, Wheelbarrow, and Pirate's Bounty)

༄ He loved tying you up or putting a leash on you. He preferred Shibari rope styles of bondage. His pet name for you was ch'úupalo' (babygirl).

༄ He loved blindfolding you. He overstimulated you the most when you couldn't see. Without your sight, every touch, thrust, lick, etc. was more potent.

༄ He had an oral fixation. He loved for you to wear a ball gag, suck on his fingers, or wear his rebreather. He sometimes covered your mouth to muffle your screams.

༄ He loved spanking you with a riding crop. The sting and bruises it left drove you up the wall.

༄ He loved seeing you completely full, so he would make you wear a jade-stone anal plug during sex.

༄ Most of all, Attuma loved roleplaying. He wanted you to act as a naive surface-world girl who was kidnapped with lecherous intentions. He was extra rough during these scenes.

༄ Despite his ferocity in bed, he was wonderful at aftercare. He would bathe you and massage you with sandalwood oil. He would whisper sweet nothings into your ear like Jach ki'ichpam a wilik (You look so beautiful) and Teech jump'éel ma'alo'ob máako'obo ku (You're such a good student). He would cuddle you and play with your hair

[paisholotus]

"FISHMAN! TURN THAT SHIT UP!" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Namora sicka of them 💀💀💀💀

[wint3r-h3art]

(snippet) Pisces | Namor x Reader x Attuma

Per requested. @avaleineandafryingpan @imthataliensuperstar @powerfulmanifestor333

18+ ONLY | Minors DNI

Warnings: this snippet contains implications of primal/prey play, so if this is not your thing. Don’t read. This is a No Power AU where both Namor & Attuma are friends and partner for their company. Y/N is their gf, so they are in an established polyamorous relationship. It ain’t much, so don’t get your hopes up too much 😅

You could feel his eyes on you even from this far out. His presence alone was unto himself. A smile spread across your face as you weaved through the crowded boutique.

Attuma shook his head. You know exactly what that means. It was time to go. You knew your other lover was getting impatient as he was cooped up in the hotel by himself. But you didn’t feel like it. You wanted to play—you craved the thrill, especially when Attuma got all worked up.

He knew the look. As you took a step back, he took a huge step forward, pushing through the crowded boutique. He knew that goddamn look the moment that cheeky smile of yours spread on your face. He knew you were going to make him work for it.

A quick dial on his phone, and Namor picked up the call at the first ring.

“The little birdy wants to play today, so we’re going to be a little late.”

Namor grumbled something under his breath.

“Attuma…we talked about this. You’re enabling her.”

The other man laughed. “She likes being chased.”

“That is not my point.”

“Listen. If she gave you the same look she gave me, you would fold too.” Probably faster than he ever was, Attuma thought.

Namor fell silent. He knew what Attuma meant. Once you wanted something, they had no choice but to give into you—spoiled rotten that was what you are. Especially having the two most powerful men wrapped around your fingers.

Running his fingers through his hair, he grumbled.

“15 minutes. Anymore than this, and I’m taking her for myself tonight.”

Attuma wanted to protest, but he got hung up on immediately. He cursed under his breath.

[thegreatestsandwich]

I never planned on changing your mind (Attuma x platonic!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader, Attuma x platonic!reader

Word count: 670 words

Summary: You always considered yourself to be the “fun” parent, but there are SO MANY THINGS that you would not allow your twins to do.

Warning: Your twins are being bad influenced with Attuma.

A/N: ANGLERFISH ARE TERRYFING OKEY?

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

You didn’t know how many times you had sighed this day. Firstly was when your twins begged you to let them go to the corals, you obviously said no, but when they gave you those huge teary eyes, you kept saying no, but then they went to ask their dad and well, he said yes but with the condition that someone from his most trusted people would keep an eye at them. You did sighed at that moment, knowing completely that one, your husband is a sucked for your children and two, that they already had asked Attuma for help.

The second time you sighed was when Attuma came to your home with a huge smile, you stared at him from the side, watching him as he began tossing the twins in the air, you knew at that moment that they would do something you ended up hating in the end.

Namor simple laughed at the sour look on your face, kissing you softly as his hands caressed the bump that was already forming on your stomach. “Do not worry, in yakunaj.” He had said. “Attuma will keep them safe.”

“It is not Attuma who I am worried about.” You let him wrapped his arms around you and kept you in closer. “Is the possibility that the twins and Attuma will do something mischievous.”

“That is a new word.” He caressed your hips, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. “Where did you learn it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You whispered against his lips.

And you where correct, because the moment the three of them had returned from the corals and entered your home, you couldn’t help but stare at their hands. Your eyes closed automatically and a tired sighed already escaped you from your form. “No.” You simply said.

“But mom, look how adorable he is! Attuma took us to the deepest shadows to get them!” Abira, your daughter exclaimed. “He said they only eat flesh from the surface-dwellers or the ones that live in Wakanda!” Her face broke into a huge smile. “Atumma, tell her!” She huffed as she turned to look at her nanny.

Attuma just simple crossed his arms behind his back, adverting his eyes because, let’s face it, he was terrified of you more than he was terrified of Namor. Yep, he screwed up.

“Yes and we have two of them, so we do not need to share or fight!” Now it was the turn of Argo, your son to explained. “Dad will love them, they have a huge light on their heads and their teeth are horrible and they are smelly and...and...sticky.”

“No.” You crossed your arms, staring at the ugly angler fish on their hands. “No.”

“But mooom.” They objected.

“No.” You stood up, your eyes looking at Namor who was getting out of the waters. Your stare made him nervous. “Come.” You ordered.

Namor made his way inside, kissing both of the heads of his twins and going to greet you with a kiss. You put your hand in his chest, pushing him away. “Fix. This.” You grunted.

“Fix?” Namor questioned you confused. You simply pointed at the fish on your twins hands. They smiled nervously at their father.

“You said to trust Attuma, I did because of your words. But he not only took Abira and Argo to the deepest shadows, he went and got them Angler fishes! Fix. This.” You turned around and went to the waters, not before glaring at Attuma who simply looked at the floor.

[xblackreader]

Namora: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Shuri: Weak. I sleep with my blasters.

Attuma: …(scoffs)

Mbaku: what’s so funny, Attuma?

Attuma: I sleep with Okoye.

Namor: … he wins.

[imthataliensuperstar]

every time namora was on screen , she made my black panther PURRRRRR ! SHE IS SUCH A BAD ASS!!! SHE WAS DOWN FOR WHATEVER !! SHE IS TRULY ABOUT THAT LIFE, A REAL RIDE OR DIE FOR HER PEOPLE ! TO TOP IT OFF IM OBSESSED WITH HER OUTFITS MY GOD 😩

[h3k3t]

𐌂𐌀𐌋𐌙𐌐𐌔Ꝋ

🐚𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇꜱ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɢɪꜰᴛꜱ, ꜱᴏ��ᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ 🐚𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 🐚𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: ᴘᴜʀᴇ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ! 🐚𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖘: ɴᴏ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴇʀʀᴏʀꜱ), ɴᴏɴ-ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ɴᴏ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏ/ɴ, ɴᴏ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʀ ᴇᴛʜɴɪᴄ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɴᴏ-ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴇx ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ, ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ, ᴄʟɪᴛ ꜱʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ɪɴᴀᴄᴄᴜʀᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (ɪ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴀ ʏᴜᴄᴀᴛᴇᴄ ᴍᴀʏᴀɴ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴏʀ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʀɪɢʜᴛ), ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ, ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴛᴀʟᴏᴋᴀɴɪʟ ᴡᴀʀʀɪᴏʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ.

You promised yourself to go on a spiritual journey. Abandon the gray and monotonous high walls of the city, the hustle and bustle of the main streets and probably the constant calls from your boss and your mother wondering what happened to you, letting time stand still for a month or so, let the your body stopped so you could enjoy those hours you took too long to do your every duty as best you could. Even your well-being was your duty after all, and taking some savings and renting a simple house in a delightful village on the shores of the Atlantic near Michoacan seemed like the right solution to reconnect with the beauty and peace of mother nature. You had never minded immersing yourself in unspoiled nature, letting yourself be cradled by those crumbs of the world's purity, digging up out of mere curiosity the little secrets it hid and which, at the same time, it offered to the bravest; certainly you would never have thought that in that small village stories were told of a people who protected the salty and crystalline waters that kissed the white and sandy shores of the beaches.

It was a group of elderly women who told you about it, almost as a warning, rather than a story for tourists. They had reminded you not to venture where the waters got deeper, not to disturb the sea and the creatures that lived there. The guardians were excellent sentinels in protecting that territory, but very strict with those who crossed certain borders.

You had always liked to hear and treasure the legends of local folklore, because that was how you had taken the words of those old ladies, as a legend. Perhaps some local fishermen had invented such stories to keep away the more annoying tourists, in fact some of them had no respect for both the local fauna and flora, it had to be like this. But you wouldn't have been a problem, you just wanted to take a walk on the seafront, accompanied by the moon, perhaps looking for some inspiration for your next book to write.

Your bare feet sank into the sand, still warm from the heat accumulated over an entire day, while a light sundress softly covered your body up to mid-thigh. The night wind caressed your hair and your skin, the colorful fabric of your dress fluttered, followed by your rocking sandals that you held in one hand. Absolute silence reigned around you, cradled by the sound of the waves and the palm leaves that intertwined and collided with each other. Your steps took you away from that village, until you found a wooden pier built in a modest and crude way, to which a boat with an oar was tied. With the hope that some wooden beam would not give way, causing you to fall disastrously into the icy sea water, with a careful step you reached the end of the pier, sitting on the edge and letting your feet immerse themselves in the water, providing you with a pleasant relief. It was hard to admit it, but perhaps you had managed to find your happy place in the world, a place of peace, where any possible negativity that had accompanied you to that remote Caribbean tourist territory was now only a distant memory. If your boss didn't have the habit of exploiting you so much, you could have asked permission for an immersive experience in this place, to find inspiration for the next novel faster.

Shaking your head, you left the idea where it was born. It would never have happened, you admitted disconsolately as you kicked the waves with your feet trying without success to make them change direction, just like a child would have done. Your gaze was lost in the starry sky and letting a sigh escape you made it fall towards the sea and the horizon. It was calm, flat as a sheet of glass, so clear that your face twisted in puzzlement as I spotted a small silhouette on the horizon. You originally thought it was a palm branch floating unusually on the surface, as it was backlit by a full moon. But then the shape began to advance, slowly, carefully, like a feline ready to attack, and as it got closer to the shore, you could notice what was the shape of a head, a human head floating, adorned from a tribal headdress. No, that couldn't be possible. How could a head float in such a calm sea without you noticing it? They couldn't have followed you during your walk, perhaps the villagers wanted to make another tourist of that earthly paradise the victim of a bad joke? Or maybe it was your suggestion, your usual vivid imagination? Whatever answer it was, it was obvious that it was time to go home and get out of the way, while you were in time. All you had to do was get up, turn around and walk briskly back without attracting any more unwanted attention, it was the middle of the night and it wasn't wise to stay that long alone in an unfamiliar place, however… Your body seems to disobey your orders. As if you were the victim of a spell, your feet seemed to have cemented themselves in the sea water, while your eyes could not tear themselves away from the hypnotic shape which in the meantime had almost reached the dock. You wanted to say anything, anything, but your breath stayed in your throat and your mouth remained open without uttering a syllable. There was something deeply wrong with what was happening right now, something your mind couldn't comprehend, but you knew that if you were to have any chance of waking up the next morning alive and well you absolutely had to find a way to dislodge all instant.

What appeared to be the figure of a young woman seemed to slowly show the body up to the collarbone, her face was soft adorned by a pair of thick dark eyebrows, drawn together in a frown and menacing expression, the previously incomprehensible headgear now gave the idea of being covered in feathers…no, the feathers would be wet, that material seemed waterproof, like the fins of an unknown tropical fish. But what accelerated your heartbeat the most was discovering that her skin was light blue like the waves of the sea that enveloped her and a turquoise mask covered her mouth and nose. May your common sense curse you for what you were about to deduce, but at this point it was fair to wonder if what the village elders had admonished you about was not just a stupid legend, but the reality…however absurd; Perhaps the sea really was the cradle of watchful sentinels who punished the intruders of their home.

Feeling a hand grabbing your ankle, with the intention of violently dragging you towards the water, harshly reminded you that the time for reflections was over and it was time to wake up and react. You thanked the last shred of lucidity left in your body that allowed you to hold on to a pier post with all your strength, while a terrified scream escaped from your mouth. Your determination didn't seem to make the woman give up, her grip was as strong as steel and painful as a dog's bite, her voice cursed in a language unknown to you, while you squirmed and tried to push her away, kicking her with foot still free. A menacing growl like that of a predator came out of that mask, low but firm, while a shiver probably of fear pierced your legs and back.

"Let me go! Please let me go!" you screamed, trying to drag you to the opposite side, holding on to the wooden slabs with your other hand, regardless of the splinters that sank into your fingertips.

“Ma' oksajóoltik le ba'ax je'el u páajtal a náachkunta'al teech ti' teen uts uchik” was an archaic language, unknown to your ears, but in that context it only gave a demonic aura to the woman or any damned being was that thing that wanted to drag you into the depths of the sea with it. In an attempt to land another kick, your foot struck full force on her mask, creating a slight crack. The young woman gasped and for a handful of seconds her grip on your left ankle loosened just enough to make you slip away, not before marking your skin with scratches, making you moan in pain. Without further delay you ran away from that pier, forgetting your sandals now fallen due to the hustle and bustle in the water, it didn't matter if you had to make the stone and dirt road up to your house with bare feet, you just wanted that creature to leave you in peace. As soon as you passed the last bump in the sand, you looked behind you for a moment, hoping that she had disappeared and wasn't following you…so it was. The woman had disappeared, swallowed up by the sea, as if nothing had ever happened. Maybe you were crazy…or maybe you should have heeded the admonitions of the elders.

It was sunset when you decided to go home the following day; It hadn't been an easy day, if you could call it that since you'd been lying between the sheets of your bed until after lunchtime and you'd spent the night before without sleeping a wink. Your mind was still immersed in that encounter you had that night, your skin still remembering the stinging burn from the scratch on your ankle, now intent on healing. Sleep had decided to abandon you in those long and tense night hours, and if by chance your heavy eyelids decided to close in exhaustion, they reopened at the slightest creak or rustle coming from outside your little house. The thought of finding that woman in front of your bed after having followed you overwhelmed you, filling you with a thousand questions and answers that were often more daunting than you had expected. You couldn't understand if what your eyes had seen was pure fantasy, probably anyone would have called you crazy, but that scratch, that mark that she had engraved on your skin, was the striking proof that she existed. It was flesh, bone and breath, and her frozen skin still seemed to caress your leg, leaving a suffocating lump in your throat as a shiver stopped between your thighs… It was fear, adrenaline, nothing more you kept telling yourself. You weren't sure that telling the old women of the village would have been a good idea, even if they had believed you, they probably would have said it was the right punishment for a nosy and disrespectful tourist like you; Perhaps it would have been wiser to put aside the idea of a relaxing holiday, abandon that mysterious place surrounded by unspoiled nature and paradise on earth and return to your everyday life, perhaps it was silly to think that you could find peace and relief for a moment in your existence.

The shouts of the village children, who gradually returned home from the beach, made you awaken from your restless thoughts, while your gaze turned to the clean beaches now kissed by the fiery and amber rays of the sunset, the Sun was gradually swallowed up by the sea, as well as your every little certainty that in the light no monster would be looking for you. Sighing and ready to get ready for yet another sleepless night, you approached the door of the house, however, finding something on the edge that left you speechless: Your sandals, the sandals you had lost during the night to escape the woman's grasp were right there in front of you.

One of the two must have broken in the uproar, but someone had thought of reconnecting the filaments by setting a small nugget of… jade in the middle? Was it jade? The first thing you did after catching them was look around, there was nobody there, people also seemed to have gone home, the fishermen had returned from their hard day's work and were intent on returning to their families with dinner to make. Taking a deep breath, you gathered courage and grabbing the knob of your door you opened it with a lightning click, ready to find the worst beast you could ever expect. But nothing but your unmade bed and what furnished your little house awaited you.

Standing at your doorstep, you wondered if some kind person in the village had found your sandals and brought them back to you, but you soon put that idea aside. No one had followed you that night on the beach, and above all who in such a humble though welcoming country could afford to adorn a sandal with a nugget of jade? Was it that woman? Maybe as an apology…Oh probably a trap. Thoughtfully you sat on the wooden stairs outside the entrance to your house, put on your sandals, only now noticing that the one with the jade had been placed on the sandal of your injured ankle. Your gaze returned again to the glimpse of the beach, wrapped in vegetation, partly pruned to create an exit from the village, the sun had now sunk, the sky was becoming increasingly gloomy, while from the windows of the modest houses around you appeared the flashes of the lights. You were sure that what you were about to do would be your last action alive, as well as being totally unconscious. But like Ulysses you felt the sea somehow calling to you, if it was the woman, or your curiosity had no idea, you knew that unlike the story of the Odyssey, your body was not tied to any mast of a ship , no one was going to stop you from jumping overboard at a siren's call.

Your mind had begun to cloud as soon as you passed the small avenue that led to the sea, as if to justify your foolish actions, together with your heart it was fluttering agitated, like a high school girl waiting for the arrival of her crush. Something in you wished she was hers, but what to tell her (if so) was still a mystery. Your fingers gripped the edges of the skirt of your sundress to ease the tension as your footsteps stopped. It was you, alone on that beach now accompanied by the first stars and the shy moon. You didn't know how far you were from the village, but only now did you feel as defenseless as if you were stark naked, a lamb ready to be sacrificed to some cruel deity. You swallowed praying that you would not die that night and at the same time you prayed that she…

"…You came?" your mouth spoke before your mind would let it, your tone low, too low to be sure she heard you. Her head had emerged from the water, far enough from the shore, for what emerged of her body was no more than her neck and shoulders. You didn't have the courage to repeat what you asked for, your hands gripped the edges of your sundress even more. She seemed to observe you, oblivious of that long silent space that separated you, perhaps she was working out the right move to make, as a shark or a tiger would have done. She decided to move closer to the shore, and you bit your tongue tenaciously to keep your body from retreating. As her body emerged from the water, your eyes studied what they hadn't managed to capture the previous time: on her torso there was a light armor of unknown material and of a dark color that covered her chest, while the shoulders were adorned with the same feathers/fins as the headdress and tied around the animal skull. The calves and forearms were clad in the same armour, leaving the muscular and toned shoulders and thighs uncovered, the hips encircled by a skirt partly made of armour, of those colorful fins and seaweed perhaps… But what caught your attention the most it was the conspicuous presence of jade in the woman's clothing, especially her earrings, which were large and hard to ignore.

"Look, I…" you bit your lip "I don't know if you can understand me…I just want to tell you that I didn't want to disturb your sea, I'm not a bad person" your hands let go of the skirt of the sundress and then stood up as a sign of surrender, along with your submissive gaze. The warrior scrutinized you frowning her thick dark brows, as if she wanted to tell you so many things, certainly not kind and friendly, but she decided that piercing you with her sharpest gaze sharper than the spear she brandished was enough of an answer. Her attentive eyes finally fell to your feet, noticing the sandals you were wearing, especially her pitch-colored irises seemed to sparkle as they found the jade gem nestled between the straps of the previously broken sandal. Only in that instant did you seem to grasp this gesture and sketching a shy smile you asked:

“Did you bring the sandals to my door?” you were unable to contain your curiosity. Even though the blue-skinned woman was as tall as you, her presence made you regret every single word your mouth uttered. She looked into your eyes, once again, her expression had become less tense, however she turned her head, as if to see if there were other threats on the horizon, on the shores of the beach, when her attention returned to you that hard sentry expression had again marked her soft pale blue face. She nodded, that was her only response.

Biting your lower lip, you carefully crouched down to your sandals, pointing at the jade nugget “Did you place this stone? It's gorgeous.” Your tone laced with fear of her was trying to bring out a semblance of genuine sweetness, maybe that was really a small gift of apology from her.

“Je'el” she murmured with another nod of her head. You smiled shyly, feeling embarrassed for a moment.

"I…" your gaze rose towards her "I'm so grateful…but, I have nothing to give you in return though" you answered regretfully, feeling guilty. The woman seemed to turn to stone, as if she were still thinking about the answer to give. Nothing could prepare you for her lightning bolt of hers, impossible to predict, or maybe you were foolish to get caught unprepared a second time. Like the previous night, she grabbed you by the ankle, making you lose your balance and fall onto your butt on the sand. The intent was to drag you towards the water, but this time the soft ground under your hands would not have given you a foothold or a way to save yourself, the only possibility to escape was to ask for mercy.

"Please no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you implored screaming regardless of the little breath you had left between one word and another "I beg you…!" the pleas were interrupted by a gasp, when icy tongues of sea water insinuated themselves between the skin of your back and your dress, wetting your hair too. On your back you found the warrior above you, her face partially covered by the mask a few centimeters from yours, while her eyes dark as night seemed to drink from your fear, just like a predator excited by perceiving the terror of the captured prey. The shortness of breath that made your chest move, now wet with salt water and stuck to the colored fabric of her dress, stopped short when the warrior reached a hand on her mask to remove it. For a moment that aura steeped in dominance seemed to waver, she was aware that as soon as she took her breath away it would last a few minutes, but she didn't allow her anxiety to stop her further. The hand that firmly held the handle of the spear, moved forcefully, driving it into the sand thick with the waves, a short distance from your face, a command and a stern threat not to dare make rash moves, or the consequences would be severe ; your frightened whine was a more than exhaustive answer. Not that she needed further certainties, you had repeatedly demonstrated how clueless I was of your survival instinct.

Removing the mask, the warrior gasped slightly, then shook her head, time was short and she should have used it as best she could. The same hand grabbed your face, not strong enough to hurt you, but firm enough to sink the fingertips into the soft skin of your cheeks, so warm and gradually more and more rosy. Your eyes tried to cast one last pleading glance at the woman as you watched in bewilderment as the sun-kissed amber complexion of her lips was soon tinged with the same blue that ruled her skin…What absurd creature was trying to kill you?! You thought terrified. Your mind traveled wild like a horse, many people before dying reviewed her whole life like a retrospective on a film, but you were imagining how that woman would have torn you to shreds, leaving the rest to the sea.

The feel of her cold, wet lips pressing against yours was the last thing you expected, however. Your surprised hum was suppressed in that kiss. She moved away from you for a second, wanting to memorize with her eyes every single reaction painted on your face, and in a moment of sweetness she caressed your face with her fingers, pressing her thumb on your parted lips in need of oxygen, to breath away from that cascade of gestures so unexpected that mixed with fear and other illicit emotions, they were melting your brain. You were freaking out. Something in you was broken, you had no idea what it was, but it surely had to do with your sanity, as, despite the grip on your jaw, you tried to reach unsuccessfully the mouth of the warrior, who caught off guard , pushed you back down with a 'splash', then attacked your lips with more fervor now. Apparently she didn't accept any attempt at domination other than hers.

Never in your life would you have ever imagined sharing such a carnal and primitive kiss, with the sea creature who held your life in her hands, playing with it and threatening to drag you into the abyss with her, if she got fed up or bored. Her tongue followed yours tirelessly, she knew your shyness and fear wouldn't last long, the way your mouths moved, your teeth clashing as the warrior tried to bite your lower lip or corner of your mouth and the moans that escaped from time to time between a stolen breath and the next, only hinted at an ever stronger charge of libido, like a fuse between the two flints that were your bodies. It was useless to think coherently, there was nothing coherent in feeling that strong passion in that situation, the only thing to do was let yourself be carried away by the current, hoping that all this was just a dream created by your fervent mind.

The other hand of the warrior sank into the shallow water of the shore, grabbing one of your breasts, still covered by the annoying clinging and soaked fabric of your sundress, making you moan in that kiss so voracious and forbidden. She was impatient and became so as time went on.

“K'ujo'obo ', wa uts chéen pudieras respirar yáanal le ja'o'” (Gods, if only you could breathe underwater) her breath collided with your lips, breaking the kiss. Her voice had a scolding tone and it was raspy from lack of oxygen. Curiosity devoured you in wanting to know what that archaic language meant. Her grip on your face gave way, softened as she stroked your cheek. “Ma' péeksik a” (Do not move) her voice does not allow discussions, you didn't know what she ordered you, but judging by the way her hand slid down your neck, you decided to stay still where you were, looking at her with the same eyes of a bewildered puppy.

Noticing no movement or any kind of resistance from you, the woman decided not to waste any more time in lingering, and almost as if she were about to drown, she lowered her face to your breasts immersed in the salty water. A muffled sound of ripping made you jump as you realized she had broken the neckline of your lovely sundress below your chest, then buried her face in the valley between your breasts. Her hot mouth, in contrast with the cold temperature of her skin and of the water, had begun to attack your right breast, causing you a cascade of pleasant contrasting sensations, while greedily biting the soft skin, sometimes almost teasing you, other times more predatory, she left you with the certainty that you would find several reddish and pink halos around it. You moaned once again arching her back, feeling her left hand massaging her other breast, as her tongue laced around your nipple, taking it into her mouth and sucking it as if her life depended on hers. You closed your eyes, taking a last look at the starry sky, while one of the many waves hit you, making you feel suspended in space. Your hands balled into fists, unable to grip anything solid that could somehow help release the tension. It was excruciating, exciting, yet deeply wild and insane what your body was experiencing. A trail of kisses, brought her lips to abandon your right breast, to be able to greedily attach to the other, murmuring delighted in tasting the sweet taste of your skin; as her hands slid down your soft hips, the warrior wanted so badly to feel the clear way every moan and mewl that filled your mouth, just as she wished you could feel how much she was appreciating your body and how she would worship it as a priest does with a temple. Perhaps this was the curse of having found a mate of the surface, a barrier would have always divided you. When her fingers anchored to the edge of the skirt of her dress, the woman re-emerged from the water, but not before leaving one last kiss on your nipple. Your face was pure heaven to her eyes, just as hers was to you. You could enjoy her view of her amber complexion for a few more seconds, while the drops of the sea enjoyed copious on your face, before it returned to her blue color. The woman couldn't help stealing another lovely kiss from you, letting her nose adorned with a septum gently collide with yours.

“Luk'ul le nook'e' Ma'ili' ti' u destruya ta wo'olal” (take this dress off before I destroy it for you) her tone sounded like a growl, which made you shiver in contrast to the sweetness of her gestures. She looked at you almost assuming you could understand her language.

“W-what?” you said confused, lifting yourself up with you torso thanks to the help of you elbows, so much so that you once again found yourself a handful of millimeters from her lips. The warrior rolled her eyes to the side in annoyance, then cursed something softly, this language barrier starting to get on her nerves. She understood that she would have to do everything by herself, and feeling the natural need to breathe water, she began to forcefully tear your sundress again, opening it in half and reducing it to a miserable colored flap, your annoyed squeaks made her curse something again through clenched teeth, and then bring it closer to your face:

“Teech traeré uláak', láayli' asab jats'uts, u prometo” (I'll bring you another one, even more beautiful, I promise) he whispered in an almost sorry tone, while filling your face with wet and salty kisses, in a desperate attempt not to let you escape from her, first the forehead, then your nose and your cheeks and a last longer and more intense on your mouth. It was impossible for you to understand every single word she uttered, yet it seemed you could taste every emotion of her felt in that moment, when your mouths met.

“Bejla'e' p'áaten quieto ka Cha' in ch'a' a siibal” (Now lie still and let me take your gift)

Your eyes darted to every corner as she submerged once more, between your legs and lower belly covered in water. You let out a frustrated sigh at the impossibility of understanding her next move, the liquid surface rippled by the waves and the little moonlight were obstacles impossible to climb over. Your skin crawled in mild anxiety as the warrior's fingers creep between your soft, inviting thighs. Her nails grabbed her flesh and skin, forcing your legs to spread apart just enough to be able to hide your head between them and access your intimacy. Namora licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, unable to contain an excited moan, she wanted to devour you, she longed for that little corner of paradise that you kept so shyly, she knew that a part of you was still afraid and full of questions, but the warrior was certain that thanks to her meticulous attentions, she would make you forget everything, even your name and where you belonged.

Her lips rested on the velvety skin of your inner thigh, leaving a sweet trail of kisses; she would worship every inch of you and your eager moans made her heart pound with emotion as much as her eagerness to sink her mouth into your pussy. She was certain that yours was also going at the same speed and she prayed to her gods that it wasn't for fear of her, she hoped with all her heart that, deep down, the libido was eating you alive just like her, really. At the mere thought she bit a flap of your thigh delicately, watching your body jolt as she sucked it between her lips until a rosy halo imprinted on your skin, while her cheek touched your pussy; Namora wouldn't let her insecurities make her hesitate, you were her mate, she'd felt it, she'd felt it the first time she'd met you, but she reacted instinctively and now it was her time to make up for it, to make you hers, to mark you and show you how much fate had decided to bind you to each other, despite your worlds separating you and he would have completed this task.

A shower of other small, stinging burns planted itself between your thighs, making you gasp impatiently and your legs trembled with sensitivity. Although your pussy was covered in water, you were certain that was swollen and wet, due to that grueling torture; apparently "that kind of siren" had a thing for biting. The fear that she wanted to devour you was replaced when her warm tongue caressed your folds. An audible gasp made your body suddenly stiffen as you tried unsuccessfully to suppress another moan as her lips closed around your clit, leaving a wet kiss.

“F-Fuck..!” in the throes of instinct and perhaps fear of what you were feeling, you backed away from that mouth so welcoming and hungry, but the warrior's grip on your thighs put you back in your place, then carrying them on her shoulders, preventing you from any escape route to this point.

The iron grip of Namora's nails on your flesh left hot and dark crescent-shaped footprints, once again warning you not to fight her and to accept what she had to offer you. Her mouth returned to your pussy, tasting it again, this time taking longer to savor you. She shivered with excitement, delicious, how could something so aphrodisiac be so hard to tame? Her tongue traversed the contours of your folds, descending towards your entrance, lapping the contours vigorously, then rising with the tip up to your clit, without any hurry, sucking it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world. Out of the water she listened to your soft moans even if muffled, your mewls and your back arching with pleasure; a satisfied smile crept onto her lips. Gods, you were perfect, every part of you seemed to have been made for her.

“Jach ma'alobech” (you're so good) she gasped underwater, sinking her lips into your clit, flicking her tongue vigorously, and savoring it like you were her last meal. “A wíinkilil ma' u tuus in, in woojel ba'ax táak u” (Your body can't lie to me, I know it wants me). Her mouth slid towards your entrance, licking the velvety edges, feeling on her lips as your rubbery muscles contracted around her hot, expert tongue as she fucked you with it. Another smile painted on her face continuing with her work of hers, until your thighs of hers wrapped her face, bringing it even closer to you making her moan. To die between the thighs of her mate would have been better than any glorious death in battle, she thought as she emerged from the water to watch your sweet face twist into a dissatisfied expression at the sudden absence of her mouth on your your needy pussy. Were you passively accepting the fact that you were for each other?

Namora took off her headgear, which had now become uncomfortable for her too, and throwing it far enough to prevent the tide from taking it away, she let her long, jet-black, wet hair fall copiously on her shoulders and chest, framing that face that now it seemed that of a nymph, of rare beauty, coming from who knows what tropical and unknown land. She leaned towards you, until the tips of your noses touched, your breathing became short, your pupils were dilated, your mind was clouded, your desire to escape was now extinguished, now what mattered most to you was merging your lips with hers again, tasting the nectar of your own juices.

“Rogadme” (beg me) Namora's voice woke you up from your state of ecstasy, her hot breath collided on your mouth, her eyes didn't leave yours for a second, while the fingers of her right hand slowly slipped between your folds, massaging them with almost excruciating slowness, meticulously careful not to touch, except lightly and absently, your clit. You inhaled sharply, as your hips swayed towards Namora's hand, hoping for more relief.

“Rugar in, ka continuaré” (Beg me, and I will continue) as your lips desperately tried to reach hers to kiss them, Namora pulled away the necessary couple of centimeters for you to moan impatiently. She smirked lustfully at your pathetic plea to be kissed.

“Please…” you murmured in a sigh as you dropped your head back onto the soft, wet sand, accentuating your defeat and submission to her will. Out of shame you closed your eyelids for a long moment, while what little pride you had was finally swallowed up by your desire to be ruined by that unknown woman. “Please, Please…!” dominated by the need to please, let a punch of audacity make you gather the necessary courage to grab Namora's hand, bringing her palm closer between your folds, guiding it in faster movements, which made every tense muscle of yours loosen, bringing you a nice wave of shivering pleasure as the tips of his index and middle fingers slid inside your hole. You were literally seeing stars and that warrior hadn't even started on you, damn, did you really lose your mind if you got so pathetic for a little attention, how long hasn't someone made you feel this way?

Taken aback by your courage and initially convinced that you wanted to chase her away badly, Namora let you do it, but when she sensed that it was only the rash gesture to seek some relief from that cruel torture of teasing, a low and satisfied chuckle it escaped her lips. Placing a hand on your shoulder, she thrust you in a well-aimed move back to the ground, and after grabbing both your wrists and placing them equally bulky either side of your head, silently commanded you to remain in your place. She loved that there was a decisive reaction from you too, however she was in charge that night and she did not accept compromises. The woman gasped slightly, she needed water…so placing a last kiss on the lobe of your ear, she whispered: “Bix a k'áat, in Diosa” (as you wish, my Goddess) before diving again under the water.

Without any fear or insecurity that this time you would have escaped from her, Namora firmly gripped your thigh with her left hand, while with her right hand she spread your velvety folds with her fingertips, exposing each of your most sensitive points to the cool water temperature and the warmth of his lips which soon fell upon them. Her tongue returned to your clit lapping it mercilessly, and sucking it giving your body small jerks and tremors. Her tongue was everywhere, going down and up between the contours of your folds, the tip of that warm muscle gently pushing between the gummy walls of your entrance, then clinging again to your clit, embracing it between her sweet lips as she sucked your nectar they so craved. Your hands slipped through her long black locks of hair, stroking them, and gently pushing her face even further between your welcoming thighs, making the warrior moan with pure pleasure, while the tip of her nose and her icy jade septums collided with your sensitive clit, making you cry out from the rain of rowdy but ecstatic you were feeling. You bit your lower lip a little dissatisfied when you ascertained that it was impossible for you two to meet your gazes in that sinful act. You wished you could watch her irises, dark as night, catch your every moan and mewl as she continued to devour your pussy like it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted.

“Cuán impacientes chan” (how impatient we are) she commented to herself, flicking her tongue on your swollen clit, replacing her mouth, with two fingers that began to slowly massage that part, before slapping it with her fingertips, making you crying out. “Tak ku beetik jump'éel minutos querías huir ti' teen ka bejla'e' a a lanzando u in fauces bey juntúul chan kaaye' num” (until a few minutes ago you wanted to run away from me, and now you're throwing yourself into my jaws like a silly little fish) another slap, as the left hand slid near your entrance. Her fingers resumed massaging your clit, and your eyes rolled back in the dizzying pleasure mixed with the constant edging; Apparently that creature liked to play with its food. Another slap, as if she reading your sarcastic thoughts, you bit your lower lip hard, hoping your obscene verses hadn't woken up anyone in the village. “Ch'úupalo 'descuidada, descuidada” (careless, careless girl) with each word Namora decided whether to give you a warm caress of her lips or her fingers or a severe slap on your now too sensitive clit. Your eyes got wet, from the pleasure, you just wanted to cum, you just wanted the pleasure to flood you just like the waves of that calm sea were doing.

When she noticed your legs starting to shake, did she know you were ready, did you crave pleasure? She would give it to you until you burst, until your mind was drunk with her and only her. A finger slid into your entrance with ease, and Namora didn't mind moaning on your pussy of pleasure, leaving a pleasant vibration on your pussy. You were so warm, soft, welcoming, so wet with that sweet nectar. Every thrust of her finger into you, was accompanied by the rhythm of your hips, even as she tried to keep you in your place, you wanted more, you wanted—

"Please, more…" you moaned incoherently almost as if it were a prayer. The warrior added a second, as her thrusts got faster, deeper. A blaze of fire was growing in your lower abdomen, its hot flames traversing your slit, your trembling legs, making you sensitive to the slightest touch. Feeling Namora's fingers curl and scissor between your gummy walls, molding them to her liking, confidently reaching for your magical spot, as if she knows your body like an open book, made you see stars and moan like a slut without any shame, no one would have come to disturb you, of this you were certain by now, or at least you hoped.

Her fingers continued to sink relentlessly into your hole, her mouth sloppyly tasting every inch of your pussy, oblivious to the tip of her nose rubbing your swollen clit. Your first orgasm hit you like a jolt, a vortex of freezing and hot temperatures had collided on your body making you lose any sensitive perception, any possible coherent thought. Your thighs closed automatically around the woman's head, unable to understand whether to stop her or to entice her even more to feed on you. One thing was certain, Namora didn't seem willing to stop, not even in the face of the constant spasms of your entrance, now filled with her fingers, which continued to rub and dilate your walls, looking for every point capable of making you scream and jump. Your moans were never mixed with whimpers and sobs, despite Namora trying to reopen your thighs, your legs seemed to hold her in an almost fatal grip; You were certainly not an obedient human. It didn't matter, she thought, she would educate you over time.

You were on the verge of another intense orgasm when you felt the uncomfortable sensation of her fingers leaving your hole, as well as her mouth. No, you thought in exasperation, why did she stop again?! You opened your eyes and stood up with the little strength left with your torso, hoping that your elbows supported you this time, ready to beg her to get back between your legs, but the sight of her gorgeous face left you speechless voice.

“Fuck, you're a Goddess” you mumbled in pure admiration, as you watched as the blue veins slowly replaced her caramel skin. Only when she heard your voice did she bring her gaze towards you, and then lean down on your face to be able to kiss you. It was a sloppy kiss, that she knew about your juices, but at the same time you could feel an unusual aftertaste of feelings that attracted you to each other like magnets. You didn't have the courage to think it was…attraction? No, it felt like much more. As if two people at the ends of a long red thread were finally to find each other. They were thoughts too complex and out of your reach to be able to contemplate in that moment of ecstasy and lust, you were two worlds too different to understand each other, despite this you were fused as in a single flame, or like two waters of two springs in a single stream.

Your hands grabbed the edges of the armor that covered her chest and toned and sculpted torso, trying to remove it, but with little success, afraid of breaking it because of your carelessness.

"I want to see you" you gasped, kissing her again, your lips captured her bottom, pulling him gently towards you, making the warrior moan in a low tone, who in the meantime had taken your face in her hands, intertwining her now blue fingers between your hair "I want to feel your skin on mine…" Namora broke away from you for a few moments, breathing heavily as she watched you as if she were having a hard time translating into her mind what you had to say to her; even her lucidity was failing. Her manner seemed to be less harsh and controlling than before her, but you knew her haste was the constant lack of oxygen. If only…if only you could breathe underwater.

"You're beautiful" you murmured shyly, placing a hand on her cheek to caress it, she tried not to wince, but her amazed gaze spoke for itself. I wonder if she understood you. Namora brought your face close to hers, until your foreheads touched in an intimate gesture. Your chests were close, your hands tried once again to undress her, but the woman gently wrapped them with hers, bringing them to the sides of her face, still wanting to feel the warmth of your soft skin on hers. Her expression was tight, as if torn about what to do. She would have wanted to give herself to you and worship you on that beach all night long if that were possible, however, her difficulty breathing was making her strength weaker and weaker. But she…she didn't want to leave you, not now that she'd found you.

“No possible…” her english was very primitive, her voice rasped from lack of air. She was contemplating something about her, while you watched her confused and at the same time amazed to hear her try to break your language barrier. “I bring…the Flower. Then nothing…separate us” a flower? What was she talking about?

"What you mean? I don't understand” she shook her head, nervous that she didn't know how to explain it in your language, your eyes reopened, looking straight into yours, there wasn't much time left before the primordial need to get back in the water forced her to part from you. K'uk'ulkan was surely wondering what had become of her most trusted person, just as Attuma, her place of belonging was calling her back and demanding an explanation for her sudden absence. The woman took your right hand bringing it to her heart, gasping slightly and not taking her gaze off yours she said: "Namora…" you looked perplexed at her needy eyes, almost like a puppy "I…Namora" she repeated insistently and that moment you guessed: she was telling you her name!

You smiled and bringing her hand to your heart, you whispered yours. She gave a hint of a smile, almost relieved, she had already painted that name a thousand times in her memory of her, even if she had discovered it only seconds ago, wishing you were doing the same too. Grabbing your face in her hands she pressed your lips in one last needy and chaste kiss, but so powerful it took both of your breaths away.

"Wait for me…I" the woman grabbed the mask, swallowing with difficulty "I...go...go back to you" she murmured before placing the mask on her mouth and taking a deep breath, under your bewitched and incredulous eyes of all that had happened that night.

You watched Namora cast a quick glance towards the sea, as if some invisible voice had called her back. She shook her head before reaching for her spear and headdress. She turned away from you as getting to her feet she walked quickly towards the sea. Before the waves could take her completely away from you, the woman turned towards your naked figure, studying you for a few seconds and then disappearing into the water, just as she had arrived. She would come back, it was a promise you both were certain of. Your barriers would no longer be a problem, Namora thought as she swiftly swam across the depths of the sea, towards Talokan, her home. She would bring the antidote to you the next time you met and nothing, nothing would tear you apart again. The woman smiled, imagining and dreaming of you two swimming in the waters of Talokan, introducing you to her people, teaching you her culture and her language, tearing you away from the cruelty and dangers of the surface world. In the meantime, you had tiptoed back to your little house in the now sleeping and silent village as a tomb. After putting on your pajamas you took the notebook you had brought with you and with a smile on your lips and your heart still beating, you wrote the title of your next novel: 'Calypso. A love lost in time'.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imaginativethinking @mar-de-seentimientos @bloatedandlonly