#namor imagines
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multific · 2 years ago
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Perfect Match
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K'uk'ulkan x Reader
Requested by @namorkawaiiwife​​
Warnings: smut, slight size kink, PinV sex
Often you didn't understand what he was saying. You knew they were words of love and affection, judging by the way his eyes shined when he said them.
You couldn't understand, yet it always made you weak.
K'uk'ulkan was a very handsome and muscular man.
He always made you feel tiny against him. And he absolutely loved to hold your smaller figure with his.
One would call it size-kink. 
K'uk'ulkan would call it adorable. 
You were his small little surface dweller. No, you were his small little love.
He would whisper sweet things into your ears, in the beginning, you didn't ask, but lately, it had been bothering you.
So, as his gorgeous lips ran down your neck, his voice reaching your ears, you finally had the courage to ask.
"What does that mean?"
He wanted to laugh at you, at how absolutely gorgeous you were.
"My Queen." he replied and you swore if he wasn't holding you, you would have fallen.
He held you in waist-deep water.
You were enjoying the calm weather when he decided to go and find you. He emerged from the water like the God he is, taking your breath away, making you run into his arms as he began to kiss you.
"You always call me such sweet things, I can tell but I never understand them, Mi Amor." he smiled as you felt his hands run up your back, pulling you closer, your hands met with his chest piece as he smirked.
"You are my sweetest little gem. Back in my home, I have painted you on my wall, the gorgeous woman that you are."
Now, you were really impressed, any other man these days would just ask for a nude, but he freacking painted it!
"You always look at me with such beautiful eyes. Taking my breath away each time, My Queen."
"Mi Amor..." he once again moved to your neck, leaving his marks behind. "Please make love to me." you begged and soon you felt him remove your clothing.
Soon, you found yourself leaning against a rock as his mouth played with your nipple.
Your fingers were in his glorious hair as you pulled on the strands. You were thankful that no one was around you two. You moaned so loud, you were almost embarrassed about it. 
Then his lips began to move further down.
You often forgot how strong he was, but you were soon reminded when he easily put your legs around his shoulders as he wasted no time drinking up your juices. You almost screamed when his tongue met your dripping pussy.
K'uk'ulkan was always a giver, but you had enough of his teasing.
"Mi Amor, please. I need you inside of me." you begged when he pulled away. Grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him up to meet your lips. You tasted yourself on him and it drove you wild.
"My Beautiful Goddess, who am I to say no to such a request?" and as he put his arms next to you, once again he was reminded about your smaller frame, something that immediately sent him into a darker mindset.
You guided his cock inside you as he began to sink in. Both of you let out a moan at the feeling. 
You felt him reach your deepest point as you felt his balls hit against your skin. It was truly a magnificent feeling.
Knowing that you are able to take him all, feeling every inch he can give. 
You slightly moved your hips, making him begin his thrusts. 
K'uk'ulkan was a giver, that you knew already, and what an absolutely amazing man he was.
He had a way of moving his hips, thrusting just a little upward, making you see stars as you dipped your head back and arched your back, making your nipples meet with his.
You felt him smile into your neck as he began to kiss your skin, not ready to let go of it unless he is assured tomorrow every single mark can be seen.
"My Love," he would whisper into your ear, making you look at him, your eyes looking into his gorgeous ones as his movements continue. He would never stop, never slow down or speed up. He was a man of sheer fucking will. And he knew just how to make you cum.
As he continued to fuck into you, his eyes staring into your soul, you reached up to pull him in for a breathtaking kiss.
"Faster, please." you begged. You swore you could almost hear him purr into your ear as he began to move faster, deeper. 
It would always start off soft and slow and as you would begin to lose your mind, he would end up possibly nailing you into any surface.
And you were more than okay with that. You wanted him, you needed him, deeper, faster, and more.
And he would always give it to you. 
K'uk'ulkan would be careful always, making sure his strength doesn't hurt you, while still fulfilling both of your wishes.
He would often look down, seeing himself disappearing into your tight wetness, it would be another reason for him to keep going.
He would hold your waist, not letting you move as he would begin his deeper and rougher thrusts. 
At that point, you would lose your mind as you could hear yourself be incredibly wet. 
"My Queen, will you come for me?" he asked and all you could do was nod. "Look at you, being fucked so good, you can't even talk." he would smirk but never stop. He would never deny you pleasure.
"K'uk'ulkan." you moan as you would start to feel your end near. "Please don't stop, I'm so close." you knew he wouldn't but you also knew he liked to hear you beg. 
He would groan into your neck as his hands would grab the back of your knees, moving himself up just a little as he would pound you. Deeper, harder and faster than before.
He would feel your smaller body slightly shake against his as you would come. Taking him with you to your high, he would come deep inside you, you would feel him filling you up. He would bite down on your shoulder, the pain and pleasure mixing as you would slowly come down from your high.
Letting out deep breaths, trying to come back to reality.
He would move back, never pulling out of you as he would pull you with him, deeper into the water.
He would place soft kisses on your skin.
"My Love, my beautiful little Queen." he would whisper before he would switch back to his native tongue. 
Yes, you were his Gorgeous Little Queen and he was your Handsome God.
It was a perfect match.
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heliads · 1 year ago
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Not sure if you write for Namor from MCU, but could you write Namor x Y/N Enemies to Lovers where Y/N is a Greek demigod who helps Namor after washing up injured and Namor pays them back by helping them deal with a monster? They’re enemies bc he still distrusts humans. Could Y/N also be a child of Hecate please?
had not seen wakanda forever but this request is so good that i specifically sought it out for you, anon. a+ job
masterlist
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At this point, the man washing up on the shores of the sea isn’t even the strangest thing you’ve seen all day. Nor is he your chief concern. Normally, the boundary spells up around your city would keep out any intruders, unconscious men who might be soldiers be damned, but the boundary spells haven’t been working well as of late. That’s kind of why you’re here. 
You consider him for a while, his unmoving form, the weapons at his sides still softly clinking as the rolling surf pulls them together, then decide that this is so not your problem and leave. Men destroy themselves all the time. This one, although stranger than most, will either be able to sort himself out when he wakes or be far beyond the reach of your help.
This sort of sentiment would strike many as unkind, but to you, it is nothing uncommon. This is survival. It has never been pretty. It works as well as you let it, and one moment of mercy can spell your death in a second. Right now, you’re not just responsible for yourself, but your entire civilization as well. 
If you ask most scholars and historical enthusiasts, they’ll tell you that the lost city of Atlantis is a myth. Nothing real, just a bunch of old stories all tied together into one perplexing knot. The world loves disasters. The idea of a highly advanced Ancient Greek society sinking beneath the waves, all that knowledge and power gone forever, is highly corruptive. Some people spend their entire lives hunting down rabbit holes and paper trails to see if they could be the one to track it down, but in the end, no one actually wants to find Atlantis. The allure is in the impossibility.
You suppose that’s why they never managed it. Atlantis is somewhere out there, ripe for discovery, just as so many thrillseekers have envisioned. The only problem is that its inhabitants have absolutely no desire to be found, so no one has found it. You would know, you live there. In fact, you have lived there for a very long time. Not as long as the oldest; some of you have died by now, others have left, and many have been forgotten, but the stories of what it was like before you cut yourselves off from the world have been passed down for centuries, and you’ve heard and told most all of them.
The Atlantaens were in danger, that’s why you left the ancient world in the first place. Many scoff at the idea of the Ancient Greek pantheon today; so many gods and heroes and monsters, none of them kind, all of them doomed. We love to laugh at that which we do not understand, but the gods laugh at us for not believing, and then they damn us with curses and agents of destruction. The gods are real, all of them, and they do not take kindly to insults.
Over the course of time, while the Aegean Sea was settled and fought over, a certain kind of people tended to drift towards Atlantis. At first, the progression of its society was slow, but as rumors grew of its inhabitants, those who found they had more in common with the Atlantaens than their own people left their homes to find a true one. 
To put it plainly, Atlantis was home to the demigods, the ones chosen by the Fates for a higher purpose. Many Greeks went their whole lives without being called upon the gods. Others couldn’t have a good night’s sleep without being plagued by visions of future quests in their dreams. So much immortal attention attracted the ire of the Athenians, the Spartans, everyone. Out of fear for their lives and a desire for more, those of you touched by the Olympians went to Atlantis, and once there, you never wanted to leave.
For a while, this progression was fine. No one bothered you on Atlantis because they weren’t stupid enough to try and attack an island full of half-gods and heroes. During difficult times, though, when harvests weren’t bountiful and water supplies grew dry, it was easier for outsiders to blame the island of outcasts than their own city-states. Thieves started sneaking onto Atlantis, burning your crops before vanishing under the cover of night. Prized possessions went missing. Families were hurt.
Without a definable cause, infighting erupted between demigods. Old angers between godly parents renewed themselves among their children. Poseidon’s children swore destruction on Athena’s chosen scholars. Ares’ soldiers spit at the feet of any tinkerer of Hephaestus who crossed their path.
Eventually, it became clear to the island leaders that drastic changes had to be made before the island tore itself apart. The demigods never attacked each other before things started turning sour, so the enemy was obviously the outsiders. To solve the crisis, the strongest of the demigods turned to the gods for help, and for once, they answered. Atlantis was cast away from the rest of the city-states, veiled from mortal eyes and dragged further into the Mediterranean Sea. You still had all the resources you needed from your island, you just weren’t hurt by the mortals.
Thus life carried on for centuries. Your art and achievements continued to expand at a breakneck pace. You lived longer, accomplished more. The gods smiled upon you. Your island was huge, your society could flourish without being impeded by the limits of your land. It became clear that the bad times had ended.
Or, they had, and then the first monster showed up. Without constant invaders, the art of fighting had somewhat fallen out of fashion. Ares’ descendants would never allow it to die completely, but it had become almost archaic. The monster was eventually slain, but it sparked fear into the hearts of the Atlantaens, and made everyone realize that they weren’t invulnerable.
The people of Atlantis responded in two separate ways. Some flung themselves before their temples, praying to the gods to deliver them again. They waited in their homes for an inevitable second attack, shaking and scared. Others, like you, realized that the only ones who would save you would be yourselves. The gods respond to insult; they removed Atlantis from the mortals because their offerings were constantly raided. One monster on an island of many is not worth their concern. It is up to you to protect your people.
You have two ways of saving your island. One is through the sword. The other is with your spells. Your mother, Hecate, often visits her children in dreams to instruct them in the magical arts. You’ve learned many spells and incantations, and they’ve come in handy as more and more monsters appear. You can only hope that they will be enough to continue the defense of the island. It seems as if the attacks will never end.
And, chillingly, perhaps they never will. You and your fellow demigods, the ones that decided to fight back instead of waiting for a salvation that will never come, have made a plan to save yourselves. Part of that involves regular patrols and expeditions to the outermost reaches of the island to kill any monster that crosses your path. You have enchanted swords at the ready, plus half a dozen defensive spells burning under your fingertips. This is not the time at which you die. 
You have enjoyed many patrols over the past few years, but today, your veins are thrumming with adrenaline even more than at the start. You know something is out there. A couple of farmers turned up with bloody livestock, scared of something poaching their animals. Scales and talons have been found. If you’re right— and let’s be honest, you really don’t want to be— you’ve got a Hydra on your hands. 
That’s bad news. The monsters were small at the start; a lesser scourge here and there, a malevolent spirit, and then they got bigger. A harpy. A medium sized giant. If you’re getting hydras— well, maybe you’ll have to make some good offerings to the gods in addition to your regular training. Some divine protection couldn’t hurt at a time like this. 
That’s why you can’t afford to worry about a man passed out on your shores, not yet. Yes, he is a problem, a definitive sign that the godly interference that should be protecting Atlantis has started to slacken, but you can deal with him after you kill the hydra that’s after both of you. Always the monster you know, right? Or the monster you know is lurking in the undergrowth, ready to slaughter you and your entire island. 
You had planned on coming back for the guy, sure, but maybe his unconscious body doesn’t believe that, because you’ve hardly taken ten steps past his fallen form when he suddenly jerks to life. It’s like reanimating a corpse, how he moves; from nothing to everything all at once. His eyes go wide, and he gasps desperately for air, one hand reaching to his throat. Strangely enough, he doesn’t choke out water, but blood, a few scarlet mouthfuls before he lies on his back once more, twitching into stillness. 
You peer back over at him. Not dead yet, his chest still rises and falls with desperate breaths. It would be smart to carry on your path and only check in with this man when you’re sure a monster won’t lunge at you out of the surrounding trees the second you turn your back, but he’s spotted you already. One hand reaches out towards you, trembling, from where he lies in the surf.
He starts to open his mouth, and you silently prepare yourself for some sort of desperate plea, a call for aid. Instead, you’re surprised when all the man says is, “Were you really going to leave me to die here?”
You blink at him. “I thought you were already dead.”
He has the audacity to frown at you. “I would have died if I needed help and you didn’t provide it.”
You can’t believe he’s washed up on your island– you know, the unfindable one– and has the nerve to question your hospitality. “Same difference.”
“Not to me,” he harrumphes, and starts to sit up. So he really isn’t dead. If he isn’t dying, though, that means it actually is your duty to help him. You’re more of a soldier than a nurse, so he’d better not have any broken limbs. Seeing as you really have no choice, you bite back a bitter groan and help him at last. He eyes you distrustfully, but lets you drag him farther from the tide. You had intended to prop him up against a tree or something, but he protests when he gets too far from the water, so you settle for a smooth boulder close enough to the surf that the waves still crash over his feet.
Strangely enough, the water seems to be helping him heal. You can see the ghosts of scars criss crossing his chest, but they don’t appear to be old wounds. Instead, they might be recent. 
You squint at him. “Do you have enhanced healing?”
“And strength,” he adds. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to kill me. You would die before you got the chance.”
If this is how strangers act when you try to help them, you’re not surprised that the ancient Atlantaens asked the gods to cordon off their island. “I could tell you the same thing. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
He regards you for a second. “Why should I do what you tell me? I don’t bow to strangers.”
“Neither do I,” you force out through gritted teeth, “and right now, you’re on my land, so I suggest you learn to scrape at least a little bit.”
He narrows his eyes. The salty sea air blows his dark hair against his face, revealing more of the ornate jewelry around his neck. It looks ancient, perhaps even as old as your society. Although you’d like nothing more than for him to hurry off of Atlantis, you can’t help your curiosity and open your mouth to ask about it.
You’re cut off before you get the chance. The man doubles over all of a sudden, hands flying to his throat once more. Now that you’ve moved him farther away from the ocean, you have a better look at his wounds, and although they’re healing quickly, they look severe. Severe enough to kill him even with advanced health.
Swearing, you raise your hands and begin chanting. Healing spells have become increasingly useful as of late; Hecate’s children learn at least one before they're even knee height, and you’ve had plenty of chances to practice these sorts of incantations thanks to the sudden surge of monster attacks.
Tendrils of magic fly from your hands and wrap around the man. The spells target the injuries across his chest, his heart, his throat, and strangely enough, a few fly down to one of his ankles, repairing a set of wings above his feet. You chant until your throat goes hoarse, until he stops choking, until his breathing settles. Only then do you lower your hands, and wait there in terrible transience, waiting for him to say something.
At last, slowly, incredulously, he does. “What did you do?”
“I saved your life,” you say.
He nods. “I know. With magic?”
You incline your head. He ponders this for a moment longer, then extends a hand towards you. “My name is Namor.”
You stare at his outstretched palm, then take it. “I’m Y/N. Welcome to Atlantis.”
He doesn’t believe you at first. It appears that the rumors of Atlantis’ disappearance are more widespread than you thought if they’ve managed to reach an underwater Mesoamerican city across the world. Namor believes you soon enough, though, especially when he’s gathered his strength enough for you to lead him up a rocky cliff so he can see the majesty of your island sprawling out before him. 
The sight stuns even you, with your years of remembering it, so you’re pleased to see that Namor looks appropriately stupefied. Atlantis is a marvel; crisscrossing colonnades, magnificent gardens, marble roofs shining in the sun, temples to so many gods and goddesses that even you can’t remember them all. Children run laughing in the streets, and their parents chastise them or smile at the fun they’re having. A flock of university students chatter on their way to class. Soldiers practice in an open training yard, and the clash of bronze echoes such that you can hear it even here, on the very outskirts of the island.
“This is your home?” He asks.
You smile. “It is.”
“Why were you all the way out here, then?” Namor queries, “If not looking for dying men to ignore?”
You roll your eyes. “I saved you eventually, didn’t I?”
He laughs. “Only when I asked you to. Some would call that heartless.”
You arch a brow. “Would you?”
He takes a step closer to you. “No,” he says at last, “I don’t think I would.”
You breathe out evenly and then, to hide the sudden pressure between your ribs, change the subject. “How did you come here, Namor? Our island is under enchantment to hide us from the rest of the world. You never should have been able to come here, especially not since it’s so far from where you were.”
Namor sighs. “I don’t know. I was returning home with my people after a truce with the Wakandans. We were attacked on the way by something, some sort of monster. I don’t know what it was. We managed to kill it, but while I was leading it away from our home, it struck me through the chest. I must have lost consciousness after I struck the killing blow, and then I woke up here.”
This makes worry tie up your stomach in tight knots. “A monster?”
You look back towards your shining city. Everyone seems to be happy and carefree right now, but if your monsters are cropping up in other parts of the world– if you cannot protect yourselves, not even if you had to run from Atlantis– there is no telling how long any of you could survive, especially not if the monsters keep getting bigger.
Namor lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”
“No,” you say firmly, “It’s not. Our peace has been shattered as of late. More and more monsters show up on our borders. I was out here to find another one that’s been spotted recently, a hydra. Even if I kill this one, though, it’ll be replaced by two more the next day. They never stop coming.”
The look in Namor’s eyes is soft, understanding. He knows what it’s like to feel as if you cannot keep your own people safe. “I will seek out this hydra with you. I have to go back to Talokan soon, but you have my word to return whenever you need help.”
You regard him questioningly. “Why would you make such a promise? We only just met.”
He lifts a shoulder. “You saved my life, I owe you a debt. Besides, we only have so many places free of humans left in the world. We should protect each other when we can.”
You smile, then decide to tease him a little more. “You know I’m half human, right?”
He feigns disgust. “I will only help half of your city, then.”
You laugh. “And kill half the hydra? That’s ridiculous.”
“No more than someone only being half immortal,” he points out. “How does that even work?”
You grin. “I try not to think about it.”
He matches your pleased expression. “Then I won’t, either.”
And so your daily patrol is joined by a feathered serpent god. The two of you stalk silently through the forests on the outskirts of Atlantis, marking signs of heavy travel. Intent on your prey, you manage to locate it with a combination of your spells and his experience. Killing the hydra is difficult, obviously; Tartarus does not make its monsters without wanting them to be impervious to most attacks, but when the dust settles, both of you are still alive and without too much damage. The same cannot be said for the dead monster, so a win’s a win.
The two of you stand there for a moment longer, weapons in hand, and then Namor slowly, remorsefully lifts his gaze from the dead hydra to look at you. “It’s time for me to go,” he says softly, “Talokan will be expecting me. They will wonder why I have not returned. I cannot afford for them to attack Wakanda again out of some nonexistent threat to their leader.”
“I understand,” you reply. You don’t like it, though. Not nearly as much as you would have liked it when you first found him on your shores.
“I should go,” he repeats, but his weapons are gone from his hands and he’s striding towards you, closing the distance in a breath, kissing you.
“You should go,” you tell him, but his hands are on your hips and you don’t want him to let go, not now, and certainly not to a city across the sea.
“I should–” Namor begins, but you interrupt him to kiss him again. His fingers curl against your sides, and you know for certain that he wants to leave just about as you want him to.
He does force himself away eventually. Both of you understand that there is and will always be something greater than the two of you at stake. Neither of you are just a person, just a god; the fate of your homes is far more pressing than any personal want. Still, when you walk back with him to the ocean and watch him disappear beneath the glimmering blue of the waves, you know that you’ll regret every lost moment.
Still, there is hope that you might see him again. He told you how to find Talokan, and Namor is familiar with Atlantis now. You could find each other again, frame it as a need for your countries to have diplomatic relations. You could be happy again. It might take time, but it could happen. You, for one, will be counting down the days until then.
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stuckybarton · 2 years ago
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Bathala and the Forsaken Queen
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Summary: He was called by the Spanish as the child without love, but to you, his wife, he was the man that has saved you and your child from the impending death at the hands of the colonials dead-set on killing your entire bloodline. Character: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Filipino!Queen!Female Reader. OC Daughter (Adlaw) Word Count: 6,388 Warnings: Philippine History Inaccuracy, changed some dates to suit the story. Mention of War and the Atrocities during the Spanish Colonization in the Philippines. Death and mentions of corpses. Angst. Happy Ever After. BPWF spoilers and slight deviation to the plot. Mention of consuming dangerous plants. A/N: A request from @kpopgirlbtssvt, Another banger of a request from you thank you so much for this. Again I did tweak a few things here and there and i hope that's fine with you.
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Bathala and the Forsaken Queen
TALOKAN | PRESENT DAY
Shuri walked into the room where Namor had been spending most of his time painting the murals on the walls. The vibrant colors and intricate details caught her attention as soon as she stepped in.
“Princess.”
Shuri continued to observe the paintings, noticing the different scenes depicting the history of Namor's people. She pointed to one in particular, showing a woman and child, protected by a God-like being from attackers.
“Who is this?” Shuri had inquired. Among the numerous of artworks, there was a certain veneration, a certain care into painting this woman among the rest of the artworks in the murals on the wall.
“She is my wife, my Queen, the mother of Talokan.”
MACTAN, CEBU, PHILIPPINES | 1592
You hold your daughter close to you as you run along the sandy beaches. The wind is whipping at your hair and dress, and you can hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the screams of death of your people, and the sound of the fire enveloping your homes. Your heart was pounding in fear as you glance over your shoulder to see the Spanish Conquistador chasing after you with a sword in hand—blood that you were certain was of your husband, the King’s after the brutal fight. Now you and your child run to avoid becoming the spoils of their victory.
“Keep running,” You urged yourself, holding your infant close to your chest, trying to sound calm despite the terror and anguish in your heart. “We will not let them take us.”
Your daughter coos as if sensing your own dread, her eyes filled with tears as she was looking up at you. You can see the fear in her eyes and it breaks your heart to know that she is experiencing such terror at such a young age. You are the Queen of your people, but in this moment, you feel powerless against the force of the Spanish invasion.
As you run, you see a large rock formation in the distance. It's your only chance to take cover and make a stand against the Conquistador. You pull your daughter towards your chest even more, hoping that it will provide some protection.
As you reach the rocks, you turn to face the Conquistador, your heart heavy with the knowledge that this could be your final stand. The Conquistador approaches, his sword gleaming in the sunlight.
You stand tall, ready to fight for your life and the life of your daughter. You know that the odds are against you, but you will not go down without a fight. You hold your daughter close, feeling her small body tremble with fear. You whisper words of love and comfort to her, trying to give her strength in this dark moment.
The Conquistador approaches, his sword raised high. You close your eyes, ready to face your fate. But before he can strike, the sound of a neck being snapped and the Conquistador falls dead to the sandy ground below you was what now comes to you.
You feel the surge of gratitude and relief wash over you as you turned to face a possible soldier from your people that helped, but the smile that was slowly growing on your face faded just as quick as it had appeared. The man in front of you was no soldier of your people—but a man that exuded power greater than any Gods in your lifetime.
Was this Bathala? Has he finally answered your prayers? You could not think straight out of fear of everything that has transpired, you had pulled your daughter closer to your chest. Protecting her from whatever wrath the God might come for you and your fallen people.
The man speaks, a language that you know nothing about. Fear grew more and the possibility of him being just like the Conquistador but instead of savagery, you were given a small bracelet which he gently slipped onto your shaking wrist.
You approached the man cautiously, your mewling daughter close to your chest and ready to move if the need arises. With his hands held up, you took a look at the man and realizing he was truly no human you had ever seen in your life before.
Pointed ears, same skin as you, his ears, nose, and neck adorned in jewelry but the most shocking part of the man in front of you were the pair of wings on either side of his feet. How only now did you realize that he was not standing on the sand, but was hovering and the sight of the fluttering wings both interested you as much as it did scare you.
With your own shaky hand you slipped off your own gold armband, handing it to the man in a quiet exchange hoping he would understand you were no threat, just simply a mother trying to protect your daughter. You watch him take hold of it, how he had slip the band around his wrist and the smile of reassurance resting on his face.
The fear slowly fading away from your system at a friendly company, but your mind was now washed with the anguish of what was left of your home. Everything that close to ashes at this point. No longer did you hear the sound of cries nor the sound of swords in the distance. It was quite painful to hear the empty silence of what was left of your people because of the Conquistador.
As you turned to finally thank the man that has saved you and your daughter, the man was gone, leaving you and your daughter to tend to yourself from now on.
~
TALOKAN | PRESENT DAY
“She was just like me, but from another country far from our own. Her people and her first husband were killed in the aftermath of the Spanish Conquistador.”
Shuri could only nod, watching as Namor gestured to images of you, who moved and settled to a cave-like home, far from what you were once so accustomed to in your life.
“She had a daughter?” Shuri wondered, looking more into the child that once had the same color of skin in the first image before her skin was now painted blue just like your own now.
“My blessing. She might not have been my blood, but I have treated her just like my own.”
~
MACTAN, CEBU, PHILIPPINES | 1592
It was hard to start from scratch.
The fear of possibly another Conquistador coming for you and your daughter had you on edge and instead of returning to your home, you have decided that it was best to live in a cavern close to your home, but discreet enough to hide you and your daughter from anyone that would place the both of you in harm’s way.
It’s been days since the attack in your home, days since you have ever caught a wink of sleep. In the damp floor with your daughter resting on what was once your lavish robe laid besides you sleeping, you found yourself sobbing. You begin to mourn the death of your husband, who fought valiantly against them in hopes of buying enough time for the both of you to escape. You could remember the way your husband was outnumbered, how in his dying breath he had screamed for you to and your daughter to run for your lives, how he had told you his love and devotion to you, his Queen and his wife. The memory was a burning reminder of everything you have lost because of the invaders.
Your hands had covered your mouth, fearing that you might wake your daughter up because of your despair. You watch your daughter’s chest gently rise and fall and in the image of her, you grew numb for what you knew you needed to do to live, to strive, and to ensure that she would grow up happy and away from whatever danger that was in this world.
In the stillness of what you now call your temporary home, you heard footsteps. The alertness waking you from your sleepless state. You crouch in the dimly-lit cave, your heart racing as you listen for any sound of approaching danger. In your arms you had lifted your daughter up, your six-month-old daughter sleeps peacefully still, oblivious to the turmoil that surrounds her.
You stroke your daughter's soft cheek, marveling at her innocence and her trust. She is your hope and your future, the embodiment of all that you hold dear. You vow to keep her safe, to teach her the ways of your people, and to instill in her the strength and resilience needed to survive in this harsh new world.
As you wait in the darkness, your mind drifts back to happier times, before the arrival of the Spanish. You remember the lush forests and sparkling beaches, the vibrant festivals and colorful ceremonies. You remember the warmth and generosity of your people, the sense of community and belonging that permeated every aspect of your life.
But those memories are tinged with sadness and anger now, as you realize how much has been lost. Your people have been forced to flee their homes, to abandon their farms and fishing boats, to abandon their traditions and beliefs. The invaders have brought disease and death, destruction and despair. They have shattered the very fabric of your society, leaving nothing but chaos and uncertainty in their wake.
Suddenly, you hear a commotion outside the cave grow louder. You can hear the Spanish shouting and cursing, and the sound of horses whinnying in distress. You dare not hope, but perhaps there is a chance that they will not find you. But your hope is short-lived. You hear footsteps approaching the cave, the sound echoing in the darkness. You hold your breath, trying to remain as still as possible. You do not want to give yourself away.
The footsteps stop just outside the cave. You can hear the Spanish muttering to each other in their foreign tongue. You understood what they are saying having insisted to your husband that it was a good thing to learn their language to know their true intentions.
Suddenly, a hand reaches into the cave, groping blindly in the darkness. You shrink back, trying to make yourself as small as possible. But the hand finds you, gripping your arm tightly.  You try to pull away, but the hand is too strong. You feel tears stinging your eyes as you realize that this is the end. You and your daughter are going to be captured, enslaved, or worse.
Turning to the owner of the hand gripping onto you, you saw the same man that had saved you a few days prior. He held up a finger against his lips, requesting for you to keep quiet. He had guided you towards the darker corners of the cave, wrapping a blanket around you before he walks towards the sound of the Conquistadors that you were certain were still after you and your daughter.
You hear the sound of violence, the sound of your savior killing the remaining Spanish soldiers who came to look for you in the cave. You do not want to listen, but you cannot help it. You can hear the brutality of the way he kills each and every single one of them without mercy. You can hear the sound of bones breaking, of swords clashing, and of flesh being torn.
And then, as suddenly as it began, it is over. You hear the man's footsteps approaching, and you brace yourself for his arrival. You do not know what to expect, but you know that it cannot be good. But when he appears, he is different than you expected. He is covered in blood and dirt, his face twisted in rage. But there is also something else there, something that you cannot quite name.
He looks at you and your daughter, and you see the rage in his eyes soften. He approaches you, his hand outstretched. You catch sight of the golden band you had given him wrapped around his wrist. You do not know what to do, but you realize that you must trust him. You take his hand, and he helps you and your daughter to your feet.
He spoke a language you did not understand. You blinked uncertain what you could say or do to understand the man.
“Mi nombre es K'uk'ulkan, aquí no estás a salvo. Hay muchos que todavía te buscarán. (My name is K'uk'ulkan, you are not safe here. There are many that will still look for you).”
You pulled your hand away as he spoke the same language as the Conquistadors. You held your daughter closer to your chest, fearing of what the man might do now or of his intentions with you in this moment.
“No quiero hacer daño. Mi gente es víctima de los conquistadores como la tuya. (I mean no harm. My people are victims of the Conquistadors just like your own).”
You find yourself sadden by his words. You had believed that you and your people were the only victims, only to turn out there were more people like that had suffered so much at the hands of the colonizers. Walking a little closer to the man now, but still the precaution was ever so evident for you.
Standing in a damp and dark cave with your six-month-old daughter in your arms, you can feel her little body trembling as she snuggles closer to you, seeking warmth and comfort. This was not the healthiest environment to have her live. You can have no one else to blame, for you were just as afraid about this circumstance. You know for certain that the Conquistadors would continue to hunt you and your daughter still. As you look around the cave, you see nothing but darkness and silence. You wonder if this is where you will spend the rest of your days, hiding away from the world.
The man, K’uk’ulkan, was a tall and imposing figure, with a regal bearing that genuinely reminds you of the nobles of your own people. He is dressed in a long white cloak with a headdress adorned with shimmering feathers. He looked far too different from the first time you had met him and it didn’t truly give you the benefit of trusting him in this moment. Especially with the blood that still painted his skin and some of on his cloak from his actions against the Conquistadors.
“He venido a ofrecerte santuario en mi propio reino. Es el lugar más seguro para usted y su hija mientras los conquistadores aún los buscan. (I have come to offer you sanctuary in my own kingdom. It is the safest place for you and your daughter to be while the Conquistadors still search for you).”
You stare at the man, uncertain whether you could truly trust him. But the two instances of him saving your life should have been enough for you to at least try. Aside from his abilities to kill the Conquistador with his bare hands, the sight of him with wings and the pointed ears had you cautious of what more he was capable of doing. It was as if you were not truly in the presence of a mere mortal—but something far greater or worse depending on what you decide to do.
"Mi reino está lejos de aquí, pero me aseguraré de que tú y tu hija lleguen a salvo. Puedo ofrecerte protección y un hogar, donde estarás a salvo de cualquier daño. Y prometo que haré todo lo que esté a mi alcance para garantizar que nunca más serás perseguido por los conquistadores. (My kingdom is far from here, but I will ensure that you and your daughter arrive safely. I can offer you protection and a home, where you will be safe from harm. And I promise that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never hunted by the Conquistadors again)." The man continues, his voice spoke softly.
You consider his words carefully, weighing the risks and the benefits of accepting his offer. You know that the journey to his kingdom will be long and dangerous, but you also know that you have no other choice. The Conquistadors are still searching for you, and they will stop at nothing to capture you.
Finally, you nod your head, accepting K'uk'ulkan's offer of sanctuary. You feel a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that you and your daughter will be safe from harm. As you follow K'uk'ulkan out of the cave, you can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. You know that the road ahead will be long and hard, but you also know that you have made the right decision.
The walk out of the cave was filled with death, you did your best to ignore the bodies laid around and brutalized by the man that walked in front of you. But it filled you with a great sense of fear and reassurance, fear for what he was capable of doing and the reassurance that he will be there to protect you should the need ever arise against the Conquistadors.
As the sunlight begins to beam against your eyes, you tried your best to adjust as the first brush of the wind has brushed against your cheeks and your baby slowly but surely waking from her slumber.
“¿Cuales son tus nombres? (What are your names?)” He asked you waiting by the end of the cave.
You told him your name, of your daughter, Adlaw, a daughter-born under the scorching sun that had ended the long-standing drought in your land. He smiled as you explained your daughter’s name to him. How invested he seemed to be of what was once your people.
“Tu hija le ha dado a tu pueblo la lluvia tan necesaria como yo le he dado a mi propio pueblo el sol. (Your daughter has given your people the much needed rain as I have given my own people the sun).”
You gasped, realizing that the man was truly a God after all.
You continued to walk through the now deserted beaches. The putrid scent of death and burned down husk wafted and it took a lot out of you not to gag from where you stood. As your eyes to one last glance around what you once called your home, you noticed something strange. Warriors that were now closing in on K’uk’ulkan who have blue skin.
You rub your eyes, thinking that perhaps you were seeing things from lack of sleep, but when you open them again, the blue-skinned warriors were still there and meant no harm as they kneeled in front of your savior. Hands helped up in a gesture that was similar to an open flower.
You glance over at K’uk’ulkan, who notice your confusion and apprehension.
"Esta es mi gente, (These are my people)," he explains. "Son los soldados más valientes y leales que he conocido (They are the bravest and most loyal soldiers I have ever known)."
You can't help but stare at them in wonder. You have never seen anything like them before. Their blue skin seems to shimmer in the sunlight, and their eyes are a reassuring shade of black just like your own. Aside from armor that were somewhat similar from that of your own people’s, aside from their skin color, it was the mouthpiece covering their mouths and nose that took you by surprise, made you wonder how they could breathe at such a constrictions. As you walk alongside them, you feel a sense of safety and security that you haven't felt in a long time. These warriors are here to protect you and your daughter, and you can tell that they take their duty very seriously.
But as you continued to walk, you felt uneasy as you walked closer towards the water instead of what you would have expected to be in the forest up above the mountains. You had watched half of the warriors make their way towards the waters, diving in without an ounce of hesitation. Turning towards K’uk’ulkan, he provided a reassuring smile, holding onto your hand.
“¿Confías en mí? (Do you trust me?)” He asked you.
“No. Pero prometiste mantenernos a salvo a mí y a mi hija y cumpliré tu promesa. (I don't. But you promised to keep me and my daughter safe and I'll hold you onto your promise).” You responded right back honestly.
“Y mantendré la promesa mientras viva. (And I will keep the promise for as long as I live).”
Eventually, two of the warriors have come to stand in front of you, the mouthpiece they wore was now handed to you and your daughter and with a small prayer of guidance and remaining bravery after everything that has happened in your lives, you accepted the mouthpiece and with K’uk’ulkan holding you and your daughter made your way further and further towards the water to a life that was not your own anymore, but for the sake of your daughter will be the best thing to happen.
~
TALOKAN | PRESENT DAY
“Yuum!”
The sound of giggling children sounded catching Shuri’s attention. Turning to where the sound began, she had watched the sight of three small children making their way towards the both of them, walking slower after them was two women, spitting image of each other.
“In Reina. In sáasil k'iin.” Namor spoke so tenderly towards the two women. His attention turned towards the three children, peppering each and every single one of them with kisses and endearing words that reminded Shuri so much of her father long before he had passed.
Shuri turning her attention back towards the women, she had come to realize who exactly they were. The similarities and the much more evident jewelry that adorned their necks and ears.
“You are the mother and daughter in the murals.” Shuri spoke.
~
TALOKAN | 1593
“Mama.”
You smiled the slow but sure progress of your one-year-old daughter in a place that you now call as your own. Your daughter was slowly but surely learning the ways of Talokan, of their people without sacrificing the ways of your own people too. You have mourn the death and end of your people for months, being allowed the courtesy by K’uk’ulkan to do a ceremony for your fallen people and of your husband.
But like your daughter, you began to learn about the ways of the people of Talokan, even if you remained in the comforts of K’uk’ulkan’s cavern above the water. Every single day, a teacher would come to visit you and your daughter, teaching you the language of their people and slowly but surely you have stopped using Spanish to converse with the people and began to use their own, in your own end had thought them about the history of your own, of your Gods and of your culture that were somewhat like their own before they had escaped to the waters.
“In chan k'iino'. (My Little Sunshine).”
Turning, you realize you and your daughter were not alone. K’uk’ulkan has returned from his duties. You gave him a smile, it been a year now since you have arrived in Talokan after he had saved you from the Conquistador—twice. He had kept his promise to keep you and your daughter safe away from the Conquistadors and from whatever danger may come lurking in the corner. Upon your arrival to his home, you have learned of his identity—a King and God to the people of Talokan, the first-born of the people of Talokan and a man that gave his people the hope that never truly settled because of the attack of the Spanish.
You watched your daughter make her way towards K’uk’ulkan. It warms your heart how it had been easy for your daughter to trust the man, the people of Talokan, and of the new life that was not of your own. Just as much as it had been hard for you to do the same. The never ending apprehension even with all the kindness his people have given you and your daughter.
“My King.” You spoke greeting the man.
“I thought we have agreed to call each other by our names, In Reina.” He playfully scolded, arms were quick to hold onto your daughter and to lift her up.
You had watch how K’uk’ulkan had a soft spot for her, how he grinned and played along with your daughter and her dangerous curiosity. How he had allowed for your daughter to hold onto the jewelry nestled on his nose even as hard as your daughter would tug at the jade.
“I am no Queen in Talokan.” You spoke, finding yourself now sitting onto the chair, your eyes lingering on the murals that painted the walls—K’uk’ulkan’s creations.
“But you are the Queen of your people, as much as your daughter is still the Princess. It does not change here as long as I would allow it.”
You nodded, knowing it was no use trying to argue with the man, he would always find a way to ensure that he gets his way.
~
TALOKAN | 1598
A year turned into two, then into three, then you have realized that it had now been five years since the fateful day that the man had saved you from the clutches of the Conquistador. Five years of living your life and your daughter’s own under the confinements of the cavern of K’uk’ulkan’s home. You were beyond grateful for everything the man has done for you, for keeping his promise of keeping you and your daughter safe, for stepping into the role of your daughter’s father but always spoke kindly of your late husband and his valiant effort to keep the both of you safe all those years ago, for allowing you to believe that there were still people you could trust and love even after all that you have been through.
It wasn’t sudden, nor did you plan for it to happen but it did. How you found yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the man that loathed the surface world and its people, but had opened his home to you and your daughter. He had promised you a life safe from the terrors in the surface and he gave you the home that was nothing you had ever dreamed possible.
But the most important thing he had ever given you was the choice. A choice to remain as the human you still were or be just like his people, to live in the waters like every single one of the people of Talokan. You know your daughter craves the water, from the instances of her playing with K’uk’ulkan in the shallower parts of the waters, how she had longed to be able to play with the other children of Talokan deep in the waters instead of the confinements of the cavern.
He promised you that he would respect whatever decision you might decide, but he provided the option should you want to finally make a change.
“You want to go back to the surface?” The panic was all so evident in his face when you had made the request one morning. It’s been five years since you took the risk of coming with them and you have yet to truly regret your action. But you needed to have the much needed closure before you open the new chapter in your life.
“I—I want to see my home one last time.” You explained hoping it was enough of an explanation for him. And the nod he had given seemed like it was. He requested for two breathers to be brought for you and your daughter.
It took no time at all when you made the request. No hesitation and no apprehension from the man at your request. How it was easy for him to explain to your daughter about the trip that you were to make up to the surface. How the excitement bubbled in every question that escaped her lips, her eyes twinkling as she continued to ask K’uk’ulkan about the surface world, of the life that you once had before Talokan.
You did not truly have the heart to tell her that this was the closure that you would finally have for the both of you. Your late husband would have wanted just as much, after everything that has happened, it was time to finally move on with your life and with everything it encased.
It took less than an hour for you, your daughter, K’uk’ulkan and a handful of his most trusted warriors to arrive to your home. The shore of what was once your home was a part of the home you missed, of the laughter and fun you had growing up with your siblings, running through the sands and talking about the life you would have hope to have growing up. It was bitter to know that as you stood looking at your feet, that you stood as the last remaining member of your family and of your family’s line and worst part was those dreams of the life you hoped to have no longer viable for you or for your daughter.
“Are you alright, In Reina?” K’uk’ulkan had inquired, he kept his voice low, hoping that your daughter would be unaware of the mental chaos in your mind.
As you approached closer towards the land of your once-beautiful home, you felt your heart racing in anticipation, of the hope that your home was restored and there was still a glimpse of hope of your people even in the years of your disappearance. It has been years since you had last laid eyes on your home, remembering the gore and death that you had run away from and of the smell of fire and blood.
The hope has died further into the pits of your stomach, you were struck by the emptiness and desolation that surrounded you. Your heart sinks, the tears have fallen at the sight that have come before you. Corpses from all those years ago still remained, like trash discarded for the wilderness to take. Homes that was once gave you comfort burn, golds and jewelry robbed and the number of weapons that were discarded, both guns and swords littered the ground.
You look around in disbelief, struggling to make sense of the scene before you. Your beloved home, once filled with your people, now lies abandoned. The trees were stained with blood and ashes. As you move through the land, you heart grows heavier with each step. All around you, evidence of a brutal invasion was evident, after the initial one that you had escaped from. Your once-beautiful gardens have now been trampled and burned.
As you move to where you knew was your hut, your heart grows heavier at the sight that befell you. You were certain of who it was. The putrid smell of death could not waver you as you kneels toward the skeletal remains of your husband. How he still wore the garments from which he had died in. The anger for the Conquistadors for removing his gold jewelry after, of the array of brutality you were certain they had placed on his body after his death, it brought a sob out of your lips.
You whispered a prayer, hoping to the Gods that your husband has finally laid to rest peacefully. Kissing your hand before resting it on his skull, you stood back up and made your way further into your hut, to see that every single jewelry and possession you once had now gone with some of the clothes you had woven for your infant now torn and painted in blood.
You sobbed as you were now facing the truth of the aftermath of the Conquistadors. Everything you had left behind was taken from you. You felt the deep sense of loss. You walked out of your hut to the sight of K’uk’ulkan that was carrying your scared daughter and the number of his people keeping guard while to took one last look at your former home.
The sound of a far too familiar language had you turning to the owner of the voices.
“Kill them.” You ordered the Talokanil warriors.
“In Reina—”
“Kill them and burn everything to the ground.” You ordered to which the warriors bowed towards you before doing such thing.
You stepped towards your daughter that was now shaking in fear at the sight of you tear stricken and the sound of death of the remaining Conquistadors being killed by the Talokanil soldier.
“Hush, little girl. Once we come back home, you’re gonna be able to play with the kids in the water.” You whispered reassuringly towards your daughter, sensing how K’uk’ulkan had tensed at your words.
“Are you sure?” He asked you, cupping your cheek with his free hand, his thumb rubbing away the tears.
“We have nothing else here in the surface to live for, the Conquistador had succeeded in destroying my people. It is only right for us to return back to Talokan as part of your people. Not as a guest, but part of your community.”
“I want you to be my Queen.” He pleaded, pulling you closer to him, his warmth radiating giving you as much as it did your daughter, the reassurance that you did not truly have in the moment of weakness. “Be the mother of my people as much as you are the mother of our daughter.”
Your heart raced, he had always showed his love and affection for your daughter, but this was the first time he had actually acknowledged her as his own. Not by blood, but by circumstance that he made the most out of it. Nicknames might had constantly escaped his lips when it comes to your daughter and your daughter had always called him ‘Yuum’ and your late husband as his Baba but this was the first time that there was a clear indicator of it all from him.
“I have kept my promise of protection and all I want in return in your love for me and for my people.”
Looking, you had realized one of the healers has arrived from the waters, you had realized that he had the idea of you finally making your much needed decision for your sake and for the sake of your daughter. In his grasp was a glowing blue plant and you know that once you’ve made the life altering decision, you will finally live the life that you have never expected but realize was all you needed.
“You always had my love and of my daughter’s.” You whispered smiling as his forehead rested against your own. You held onto your daughter’s hand and as the pain of your past slowly washes away, you could only hope what the present and future would be like for you three as a family.
As you three had walked towards the shore, the sound of the crackling fire echoed the skies, you had accepted the bowl given to you by the healer, you had watched K’uk’ulkan sit on the sand besides your daughter, reassuring her that things will be alright and when she wakes up they could play in the deeper part of the waters from now on.
You watched as K’uk’ulkan had hand fed your daughter the plant, seeing how your daughter was wincing at the bitter taste of the crushed plant but continued on as her eagerness to be in the waters overcame everything else. You took a deep breath as you finally consumed the plant in one go, your teary eyes closed as you tried your best to eat everything that was in the bowl.
You felt your skin grow jelly and with one of the warriors holding you up, you were assisted onto the sand and as you opened your eyes you saw your daughter now unconscious in the arms K’uk’ulkan. The panic never sets in, as the trust on the man had grown a hundreds of folds since the first time he had asked you to trust him to return to his home. You trusted him more than you would have ever believed you could.
“Thank you for giving me this new life, K’uk’ulkan.” You whispered.
“Ch'ah Toh Almehen.” He spoke, moving your head until they rested on his shoulder.
“What?”
“My real name. My people call me K’uk’ulkan, my enemies call me Namor, but I want you to call me by my birth name.”
You nod, your eyes grow heavy as your last words before darkness consumed you was his name, the name that he had entrusted for you to use from now on as you lived a life away from what you once lived for.  No longer were you the Queen Mother of the Raja in Mactan, but now as the last ounce of life in the surface world fades away, you now became the Queen of Talokan, the mother they had always hoped to have in their life and in their community.
You awoke hours later, but instead of the beach from where you had finally made the decision to change, you were in he middle of the water and the first person you had seen was the man that had saved you. A smile on his face as he pointed towards the side and your eyes had caught sight of your daughter, freely playing with the children in the middle of the waters—breathing through the waters just as much as you and K’uk’ulkan did.
You smiled, holding onto the man’s hands and before you know it you pulled him into a kiss—sealing your fate as the Queen of Talokan and eventually the wife of the great King and God of Talokan.
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mrs-lockley · 10 months ago
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WIP Polls
Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they'd be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.
Tagged by the lovely @soft-girl-musings! This one actually looks fun, I hope I do this right.
I want to know if you can all figure out which WIP is which 😈
Hint: they're all Marvel characters
@venting402 @writefightandflightclub @v4mpires0ap @musing-magpie @marc-spectorr
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namorslutfanfiction · 2 years ago
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Some Thoughts about Namor
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IT GETS SPICY NEAR THE END
He's traditional. Not in the way you think. He would want a Queen and children because that is what is expected of him. But he wouldn't want someone soft and outwardly submissive. He needs someone who is strong and could rule if anything happened to him.
Namor would court traditionally. If he could he would probably ask your parents for permission. Then he would bring you gifts and get to know you. That's if he thinks you're marriage potential.
But Namor is also a man with carnal desires. When he isn't ready to marry or doesn't see that kind of future with you then he has no problem seducing you. He could easily make you fall into his bed or have you take him to yours with some smooth words and gentle smiles. He wouldn't lie either way. You would know from the start it wasn't permanent, he doesn't believe in deception like that.
Namor cares greatly for the children of Talokan. He goes out of his way to meet every new born and spend time with every child. Every member of his people has fond childhood memories with him. But once they are older, married off, and having their own he tries not to be too attached. Just quietly supportive. He won't stop anyone coming to him for advice or counsel but he stops seeking people out once they have their own life established.
The King has explored the entire world and all the seas in his time. He has met the Kraken and other creatures of myth. They do not answer to his call the way that the more simple sea creatures do. But they stay away from his people as long as he leaves them alone.
Besides painting, Namor has a talent for musical instruments. His singing is competent but not something he practices. But he learned the instruments, partly out of boredom, and partly to fill the silence of the caves when all his people would have to return to the water.
Namor likes giving gifts to show his affection since he has to keep people at arms length. He will leave Namora her favorite fruit. He will carve a new ax for Attuma after a fierce battle. He will paint a portrait for a maid who is getting married soon.
The man is oddly fond of surface plants but tells no one. He will often go to the surface to faraway lands and beaches to look at the plants and foliage when he wants time away.
He would tell no one but the first time he saw a plane it scared the shit out of him and he took it down. (In my brain it was Amelia Earhart)
The only one to ever beat him in a fight was Namora and she will never let him forget it, although no one but the two of them know about it.
The man has hyper hearing. He can tell when your breathing changes pace so he would know the exact moment he starts having an effect on you. At first he thinks you're frightened then he will realize that it's something else.
Namor is bullheaded. He would fall in love and be so stubborn about how its not love and he doesn't have time for it. He would overthink and not want to risk anything. Then it would be one thing. One moment that changes his mind. But until that one specific thing happens nothing can convince him otherwise.
When he accepts that he's in love he's all in. But private about it. He might even appear cold to other people. Behind closed doors he adores you. He can't keep his hands off you and not just sexually. The man is clingy as all hell. In front of the world though, he wants to be professional. He doesn't want anyone to think you're too important to him because that would make you a target.
I have this vision of him wanting to comb your hair every night. He would do it while you told him all about your day. You told him about your troubles and triumphs, melting into his touch. Then he would carry you to bed when you're barely awake and tuck you in.
CUDDLER. Just a koala man in bed. especially after he's away for diplomatic business. As soon as he comes home and you're alone in your room together he would pull you into bed and moan and groan about how annoying the surface dwellers are while fully wrapped around you demanding affection for his troubles.
Namor has a weird aversion to silver and all things chrome. He thinks it looks cold and cheap. Now imagine him arguing with Shuri or Riri about that in regards to any machine they design.
Namor having a pet sea otter. Just the two of them floating aimlessly and basking in the sun while Namor waxes poetic about a beautiful woman he saw.
He's got a big dick but he's tiny soft because of the cold water. He is immediately amused whenever people are surprised at his size when hard.
Making the woman feel so good they cover his back in scratches is his kink
His other kink is making a woman beg for him to finish because he's been fucking them for so long, made them cum so many times, that they just can't take it anymore.
The man tries to be humble sometimes but not when it comes to his prowess in bed. Once he knows you're comfortable with him he would introduce you to all manner of pleasure seeking behaviors. He would love anyone experienced or inexperienced because he knows no one has tried as much as he has.
Has an internal battle because he definitely had a breeding kink but he's not trying to have a million babies so he makes himself pull out. cue reader locking him in and making him cum inside
He's a munch. The only reason his beard isn't bleached from all the pussy he eats is because it happens so much underwater that it washes away the juices. The man doesn't need to breathe air so he could live between a womans legs.
Definitely loves to face fuck but tries not to do it too often because he doesn't like that most woman don't actually like it. But when you tell him you do he is more than happy to shove his giant cock down your throat and spill his seed inside of you while cupping your cheeks.
He would love kissing you after you cum on his lips or he cums in your mouth. Something about the trust and the exchange and the smells makes him animalistic.
growling. he makes noise while he fucks and if you're not then he thinks he isn't doing good enough so he will make sure to make you scream.
he likes to fuck you while you wear nothing but one of his necklaces around your neck. A pseudo collar because you are his and he is yours.
He would gladly let you leave love marks on his thighs so that everyone who sees him sitting on his throne can see that you've had your way with him. Everyone knows better than to bring it up tho.
Namor likes when you are being stubborn or talking back. The challenge turns him on. As much as he loves you and wants to have soft loving moments with you. The explosive fight followed by a hesitant then passionate reunion is more satisfying.
The first time he cries while cumming is when you look at him and tell him you love him in the middle of it. After months of unspoken adoration. After weeks of missing each other. After begging to be released from the torment of loving someone who didn't seem to love him the same way.
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nellycanwrite · 2 years ago
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nelly have you seen the croissant trend thingy? imagine if namor had to hear you say it over and over again and in all sorts of pronunciations and-
I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN SAYING IT SINCE LAST SUNDAY AOITHAUTIAHT i really like how it's pronounced
AVELEINE HOW DARE YOU I JUST GOT THAT AUDIO OUT OF MY HEAD YESTERDAY /LH ASDGAHSGDHGJSD
But Namor's gonna be looking at you so weirdly and just go:
Namor: ...What are you doing?
You: There's this piece of...audio that's been on my mind.
Namor: And that audio is...?
You: Croissant...quaso...qwaso?
Namor: And what is...quaso?
You: Bread.
Namor: And you're troubled about bread because...?
You: Because it's spelled differently but pronounced another way, and now I'm confused on which is the right way to do it.
Namor: ...surface dwellers give the strangest names to things.
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fhrlclln · 2 years ago
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con la brisa | k’uk’ulkan/namor
SUMMARY -> out of your own curiosity discovering the unique entrance of the underwater cave had you finding more than you expected while vacationing. the god is intrigued to say.
k’uk’ulkan/namor x fem! reader
masterlist (to be added)
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> bpwf spoilers, meet-cute scenario, a lil slowburn, namor is a lil’ bit cold at first & smut as usual (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex; both!receiving & fingering)
WC -> 7,876
a/n: after watching wakanda forever had me bawling like so much. and so, okay, i know this isn’t my usual writing but i fell in love with the song con la brisa and namor cuz aquapapi. and i thought i’d write a long fic just for him. lIKE THE VISUALS OF THE SCENE IN TALOKAN AND THE SONG!?!?!?!? absolutely amazing and captivating and there’s namor. 😫 but anyways… enjoy my namor smut ig. and happy holidays everyone <3
TRANSLATIONS: YUCATEC MAYA -> máak lu'um - surface dweller/land person, ki'ichpanech - pretty girl, le paalo’ - child , je’el - yes, dejaremos ti' le destino decida - we will let fate decide, in na'atik - i understand, ba'ax úuch - what happened?, jach asab u jump'éel siibal - it is more than a gift, ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga - and i don’t want it stop, in ts'íiboltikech - i want you, ma'alob - good, ko'ox - let us go, in yakunaj - my love, jats'uts - beautiful, t'aan - speak, táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen? - it is so wet, all for me? mierda - shit, perfecto - perfect, jach jats'uts yáanal tin - so beautiful under me
likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
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it’s quiet.
only the sound of the waves and the sound of the cool breeze hitting your ears envelops your senses. your body is floating above the water, sun hitting your face, eyes closed and relaxed as you let yourself float amongst depths of the sea. the water is cool against your skin, the scent of salt hits your nostrils mixing in with the freshness of the air. heaven is all you can describe at such serene calmness the water offers you this day.
as beautiful the secluded beaches are here in yucatan. you knew better to be not trespassing here. and as stupid it was to swim near night falling, the rays of the sun had turned orange among the horizon of the beautiful ocean. you knew it was time to get back to your hotel you currently resided. but here you are, water still glistening your salty skin, shorts concealing your bottom and your top the bikini you wore still damp as ever. the sun was setting, the trees swayed as you headed back to the direction of where you came from. wary of a chill on your spine erupt as if you felt like you were not alone in the secluded beach.
but as always, fate seemed to spin you to get lost in the woods.
shit. you think to yourself, the unfamiliar path dawning over to you as you sighed to yourself, trees all over your view. you knew the area well enough for the past few days and now was the time you would get lost? unbelievable. you bit your lip, trusting your gut to go further, night already taking over the once pristine blue sky. better to walk and let faith guide you to a road than to stay amongst the wild animals and insects inside the forest. you could say you’ve done one of the stupidest tourist shit you vowed not to do.
the cicadas faintly started to get louder as the darkness took over the forest. you grabbed your phone, turning on the flashlight as the leaves scrunched underneath your feet. the bushes seemed to grow larger as you gently passed by them with your arm shoving them away. expecting the familiar highway to come in view.
but you stopped, the path had ended as you were face to face with a cave of some sort. your eyes sparkled in the dark, suddenly intrigued with this new location you found. a hidden gem in these parts. you cautiously stepped closer to it, feeling as if you’ve entered someone’s territory. you lick your lips, shutting the flashlight of your phone as moonlight filled the area perfectly.
“water?” you mumbled to yourself, bending down to see the small cave was filled with water. “of course it is, dumbass.” you rolled your eyes to yourself, letting your hand touch the cool water.
it rippled beneath your fingertips as you glided your hand to feel the temperature, the scent of sea salt again fill your senses, your curiosity getting the best of you. you noticed how the deep the pool of water was, noting it might be an entrance to a underwater cave of some sort, you guessed. but you needed to go back, remembering the hotel waiting for you.
you looked around once more, guessing that this has been around here for a long time. you smiled, proud to say you would dive in here if you got the chance and the gear to do it. you stood up, brushing yourself from the dirt that sticked to your knees. you turned back and headed to the bushes again, to find another path. for a moment, you adjusted the bag you were carrying, your phone in your hand suddenly slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a thud. you cursed yourself for your clumsiness, bending down to grab it. the water in the cave suddenly splashing catching your attention warily.
you froze, slowly standing up, clutching your phone tight as you watch a figure came from the dark depths of the cave. the water splashed around as your heart thump loudly. seeing as a manly figure came in your sight despite the darkness. warnings in your mind erupted, remembering what you had heard of recently.
the man from the sea. a ancient god.
you distinctly remembered the words of the locals and the village elders about a man walking along the shores, feet with wings they had said. their ‘god’ walking amongst them. you don’t know much, but you feared this legend and the god as so did the people here. anything was possible nowadays. but you remained silent, studying his figure as he emerged into the moonlight. stepping in to your view, golden jewelry adorned his neck, he wore only green shorts and other accessories from his wrist to his legs. his feet, however, caught your interest seeing wings adorn them. and ears flourished with a jade like square earrings. he brushes his wet hair back, chest rising as he breathes in the air, his dark eyes finally gazed to yours.
oh, fuck.
you clutched your bag tight against your body, a shiver ran down your spine as his gaze pierced through you. you’ve trespassed. your mind shouts, your heart thumping louder.
“i’m sorry for i-intruding.” you speak up, careful for your tone to be calm and respectful. gears in your mind clicking, his face yet did not react whatsoever other than he steps forward, making you step back cautiously. he seems to notice it, sensing your own fear as he minds himself, creating a presence you knew not to anger. as stoic his expression was, his eyes seem to tell otherwise.
dangerous.
“you’re not from here.” he speaks, breaking your daze when you stare at his face. cold yet curious his tone was. knowingly now you think he’s attractive the more you study him. thoughts then circling how he just came from an underwater cave and ankles with wings on them.
“i’m not…” you nodded, gulping. “i got lost and stumbled here. n-no other intention.” you added, sensing him that he expected another answer.
“no?” he questions, stepping forward again, closer to you, making you freeze on the spot. you breathed out shakily, gazing his eyes that hold a predatory look. he towered over you, intimidating you further.
“no…” you softly said, the atmosphere almost changing, not once did you leave his gaze. a fire in the man’s gaze fueling him elsewhere.
the god stared down at this surface dweller, he hummed, trusting your answer, yet still skeptical. you were not like the other surface dwellers that he encountered coming into the entrance of the cave. you looked innocent enough, a foreigner of the area, a tourist you are. he shifts his gaze to your eyes and to your lips that softly spoke those words of reassurance. he notices your hands tremble, the cold of the night he presumed was getting to you or the fear of him. he’ll let you go, he thinks, merciful enough. the disturbance of the water merely caught his attention, he swam to it, ensuring that his nation would not be discovered.
“who are you?” you asked, astonished now for a man who’s ears you noticed are pointed. the fear slowly washing away. namor was intrigued to say, a curious thing you are.
“i have many names.” he spoke quietly, accent sharpening his words, a wonderful one you deemed as you listened to him. “my people call me k’uk’ulkan.” he gauges your face, seeing it full of wonder.
“but my enemies call me namor.” he finishes darkly, a threat. a warning set in stone. many would have run from him by now but you intrigued him further.
“namor.” you tested the name on your lips. the god felt himself shift in his place, seeing as you turn from his gaze, something stirring inside him after you uttered his name so softly.
“and you are?” he now asks, formalities thrown as you met his gaze again.
“y/n.” you uttered your name as the chill of the night shivered you so. he also tests your name in his tongue, accent enveloping each syllable smoothly with a crisp ending.
“roaming around the outskirts of the village is dangerous, máak lu'um. what has brought you here?” he speaks further, a word so unfamiliar to you. not spanish or what, which fuels your desire to learn him now.
“just took a swim by the beach.” you answered with a shrug. “it’s beautiful out the atlantic ocean.” you added as he hums, nodding.
“you’re not from here as well, are you?” you suddenly ask. he doesn’t look like the locals in the area. his outfit is as different from modern clothing, which in his case is very minimal. he cocks his head to the side as you looked back to the underwater cave. he is taken aback at your forwardness but contemplates whether he should tell you but he only offers a simple answer to your curious mind.
“yes.”
“interesting.” you quipped, examining his peculiar jewelry then to his chest, which catches you off guard how well built he is. tan pecks glistening with water, a fluttery feeling in your stomach making you feel a little flustered for checking him out shamelessly. 
“you live there, i presume?” you ask, pointing to the cave. he seems to still, eyebrows tensing as you notice how defensive he is. “not that you need to answer…” you offered weakly, a little scared now.
“mhm.” he grunts, stepping pass you, not answering the question, leaving off a cold aura. he needed you away from here as soon as possible, remembering his intentions from the first place when you disturbed the waters of the entrance.
“come, it is getting late. let me escort you out, ki'ichpanech.“ pretty girl. he offers his arm out, muscle bulging out. you seem to be too trusting as you complied with the strange man with wings on his feet. not knowing how dangerous he can be, a man that has lived for more than a century, a god to his people and a king of a nation sealed from the whole world beneath the depths of the sea.
he is the feathered-serpent god.
“thank you.” you took his arm, walking beside him, arm resting with his making your heart thump. he was warm for a man who just swam in a deep underwater cavern. he smelled like the ocean itself, which was not that unpleasant, you stare at him for a time as you two walked along the woods. leaves scrunching both of your feet.
namor, on his behalf, didn’t expect he’d be talking with a surface dweller for this long nor offering to escort you out the forest. he despised all things that came from the surface world, a land that he swore to himself to hate to the bones. yet now, you who peaked his interest made his usual thinking sputter.
innocent, curious, soft, kind…all things he doesn’t expect. the feel of your skin to his fueled his desire further as he tried to suppress it. noting the way his cock twitch when your fingers brushed against his hot skin.
“are you not cold? it’s so cold out here.” you shivered, unintentionally pressing against him for warmth.
“it is…tolerable, ki'ichpanech.” he amusingly says, watching as your other arm hugged your waist for warmth. your bikini covered breasts pushing up by your arm making him swallow a lump as he looks ahead. intriguing.
“what does that mean?” you ask, glaring at him with a pout.
“ki'ichpanech?” the ancient language rolls on his tongue flawlessly.
“yes.” you looked back to him seeing as the familiar sounds of faint chatter filled your ears. the village must be close.
“a compliment, le paalo’.” he simply explains. “one for you to find out for yourself.” he smirks, making you sigh beside him.
only silence fills the void between you two, an unspoken comfort that had the man beside you wonders how calm you are. being escorted by a man who you just met. he wonders how your pretty little mind works
“you said you have many names.” you started. “what do you prefer to be called?”
“it is up to you what you wish to call me.”
“k’uk’ulkan then?” you uttered, wishing you didn’t butcher the pronunciation. “you said your people call you by that.”
“je’el.” he agrees, which you take it as a yes. a silence transpired again, but it doesn’t take long before your own curiosity gets the best of you. asking him questions now out of the blue, all subjects leading how he swam inside of a underwater cave without any gear and the most asked about his ankles with wings.
namor seemed to tolerate your mind, offering vague answers and none about questions where he resided or came from. he offers you to teach the mayan words he answers along the way, resulting you to ask him if he always knew how to speak english fluently. in return, he asks you as well. you gladly tell him about vacationing alone in mexico, saying that you needed some time away from the work you had back home. and that you just wanted a moment of peace to yourself here by the beaches. exploring, learning about the locals and their culture respectfully.
but in all fashion, it had to end.
which broke your heart slightly when the sound of the locals grew louder. lights from their village enveloping your view as you two arrive in a secluded area wherein the familiar dirt road is.
“you are a strange woman with curious questions.” he begins as you step out of the bushes, facing him with a slight frown.
“says the man who has wings on his feet.” you quip back playfully. he smirks at that, eyes alert as he looks back to see the locals. your heart thumps, wishing for him to come with you. but in his eyes you knew it wasn’t possible even if he didn’t necessarily say it out loud. you just knew.
“speak of this to no one, ki’ichpanech.” he utters, you nodded at this. the situation weird enough for you to obey.
“will i see you again?” you ask gently, hope in your tone. namor feels something stir inside him as he licks his lips, stepping forward as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. soft delicate skin. he thinks, a fire set alight to the both of you as his piercing gaze never faltered as your chest rose at the sudden electric feeling.
the hand kiss was a gesture of his growing affection towards you which he fears may not stop. you should be cowering away from him, a man who’s hands are stained with blood for hundreds of years. he shouldn’t even be talking with a surface dweller at all and you shouldn’t see him again, but…
“dejaremos ti' le destino decida.” he only offers those unfamiliar words to you with sincerity. you drew your hand back, not asking anything further as he steps back into the forest, eyes still looking into yours. a series of laughter interrupts the two of you as you look away from for a moment seeing the villagers laughing amongst themselves. you look back to the bushes, only to find that he’s gone.
huh.
you only stood quiet, the scent of sea salt lingering, his warmth you realized you missed. the night grew colder as you think to yourself with a cheeky thought in mind.
you’ll meet him again.
•••
and you did.
countless of times now after a couple of days had passed. the next morning of that faithful night lead you to go back to the same spot you met him, toying with the water, disturbing it when he was already behind you at that time. in which namor wouldn’t say he has been keeping an eye on you whenever you visited the beach again. you were thrilled, greeting him with your smile. he seemed a bit reluctant meeting you again, telling you that you should not be talking with him. you countered back, asking why then he appears before you when he could’ve ignored her. he smiles at that, offering you a chuckle for the first time. his smile catching you off-guard.
“you intrigue me so, ki'ichpanech.” he would say as you two walk along the shores, talking, asking more about him. he tells stories you never had heard of, legends and so.
“you like it.” you’d tease with a grin. he doesn’t affirm but he does agree in the inside.
your growing friendship with the god only grew larger when the days passed and each day he reminded you to never speak about this strange relation you had with him. you only had weeks left before going back home. a month vacation in yucatán was slowly nearing it’s end and you feared you may not get to see your mysterious friend ever again. you had to cherish the weeks left in counting.
and the subtle attraction you were feeling was growing larger.
he showed you the vast hidden wonders the beach hid as he took you for a swim. the corals, the tide pools, even in the deepest parts of the sea. it was so fascinating to you to see him swim so freely, like it was just a normal thing for him. you had already known that he is not human from the first time you met him. further, he only describes himself as a mutant, the story of his mother and how the first of his people came to be. the talokanil.
“my mother mourned to return to the land wherein she once lived.” he speaks, the waves crashing, you two sitting beside each other on the soft white sands of the shore. watching the sunset over the horizon, a beautiful sight to always see. intimate it felt.
“she was human you had said?”
“je’el. she made me a promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland.” you watch carefully how his eyes catch a glimpse of longing. “but nothing could prepare me for what i found.”
a chill ran down your spine seeing his expression drop into the most chilling hatred you could ever seen from a man. the slavery, those spanish men, the corruption of colonialism that had fallen amongst the surface world. wars broke out, diseases everywhere, more and more tragedies you guessed he would have witnessed for living for 500 years. you were somewhat touch to know how he’s opened up to this, to you.
“there’s nothing that would change how us humans would still be.” you began, sympathizing with him and knowing his hatred for the surface world. “humans are greedy. power is their desire, their lust. the world up here is fucked up.” you chuckled airily, staring off to the ocean.
“you seem to harbor the same resentment to your own world, ki'ichpanech.” he says as you shrugged at it.
“the world is too corrupted nowadays.” you rolled your eyes. “work is work, you work then you die. money is in my head always back home. so yeah, i do hate it up here.”
“you desire to be elsewhere? is it why you are here with me?” he grins as you scoffed at him even though it was true as the blush evident on your face was enough evidence. he has been shamelessly kinda flirting with you over the past days—
…you like him, a lot. it was no surprise you had catch feelings for the man. you learned he is kind and somewhat warm underneath the defensive and cold exterior he had put up when you two first met. he longed for his nation to be free from the terrors of waiting for anyone who’d try to discover them.
“you were a nice surprise to me.” you smiled gently. “but yes, it’s a nice escape here out from the city. even though i hate it here, it quite beautiful to live in.”
“in na'atik.” he hums, intrigued to say how one surface dweller could speak so ill about their own home. his resentment towards the surface world was still growing in him. humans are greedy like you had said, but you, out of all the surface dwellers that had tried to come near him or his nation, you merely just stood before him that night. astonished at him, wonders in your colored irises that held a compassionate understanding for him. he feels his chest swell and throat constrict. that same mushy and fluttery feeling that arose to heat his cheeks and the tip of his ears. overwhelming yet so addicting to feel.
what were you doing with him?
namor only watches you as you stare off to the ocean. he wants to picture this moment in his mind, a mural he now wants to paint for you. a story for you, your curious questions about him and your smile that was like the most beautiful pearls of talokan. he doesn’t want to admit it, nor shall he want to think about it now. dangerous it can be, he only hopes that this would last quicker for the sake of both of your hearts. and for his purposely knowing all would might end in tragedy if he is to act on this.
but he is wrong.
•••
another set of days had passed and tomorrow, that you dreaded, you’ll be going back home. it seemed like time had passed by faster than you expected. you stand alone again by the beach, this time a mesh white scarf wrapped around your arms as you take in the sea breeze again, savoring the moment. namor had wanted to see you again as usual, you knew he was either walking along the shore or might emerge from the sea, waiting for you.
but now he was walking towards you, expecting your bright greeting yet he only found you staring at the horizon again.
“ki'ichpanech?” he starts, softly calling for you. the waves crashes again as your sundress swayed with wind. you met his gaze, snapping out of your thoughts as you composed yourself before the god.
“k’uk’ulkan.” you face him, a little surprised but you smiled at him still. namor watches your serene smile do not go up your eyes. he knows already, you could tell. he always could tell how you were feeling.
“ba'ax úuch?” he asks, enough for you to understand as he stands in-front of you, softening his gaze as you glanced back to the sea, sighing deeply.
“i’m leaving tomorrow.” you finally said, seeing as his expression still as those words he dreaded as well came from your mouth. it’s too soon, he had plans to—
“tomorrow?”
“in the morning.” you confirmed, your heart breaking seeing his stoic expression falter. “to be honest, i don’t want to go.”
“then don’t.” he says, every patience in his body wearing just for him to spew out anything for you to not leave. all his walls he build up for the first time for you already was gone, he accepted it that he wanted you by his side even if you don’t know fully of his true feelings. he had to at least say something before this could all end.
“i can’t.” you shakily said, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you. you didn’t want to leave this place, you didn’t want to leave him yet. “besides, whether i like it or not, i’ll be forced back home.”
you gripped the chiffon scarf, knuckles baring white as namor didn’t know what else to say. every signal in his mind told him many ways he could make you stay but he knows either way you’d be gone. and that this whole relationship you have with him is going to end even if it just had started.
“come with me.” he finally lets it out as he grabs your hand to his. “i wanted to show you something.”
“you have a gift for me?” you teased as his fingers interlocked with yours. he merely chuckles making your heart thump, alongside the feel of his calloused warm hand fits perfectly to yours. you know there’s this silent crave, a want between you two. you never acted this strange tension with him. you always thought he only tolerates you at how adamant you are seeing him, but now… you’re not sure.
“jach asab u jump'éel siibal.” he says, guiding you back to the forest, the familiar path to the underwater cave. “i want you to see a glimpse of my home.”
“k’uk’ulkan.” you scolded, brows knitting as you followed him, letting him guide you. “you had said that your nation is something to be kept away from the surface world. i am apart of that.”
“it is not necessarily talokan yet, ki'ichpanech.” he counters as you two step to see the familiar structure. he ushers you to stand by him in the pool of water but you stop,.
“i don’t want to risk this.” you argued, seeing as he contemplated at that. he was holding back something he’s been harboring, you sighed as you step back, hand letting go of his as he stands in the water. a feeling of deja vu erupted inside you. he looked absolutely the same the night you met him. just that his defensive posture were now soft and relaxed as he gently smiles at you.
“one last night, ki’ichpanech.” namor held his hand out again. “and we will forget all of this in the morning and continue on with our separate lives.”
“but that’s not all, is it?”
namor tenses, he doesn’t really know if a tinge of fear had finally come to him. you can see pass through him, every knit of his brow or clench on his jaw. and he can see you hesitate— you want this, he can tell. every grip of your mesh scarf, the furrow of your brows, the sadness and eagerness in your eyes. you awaited for an answer as he nods.
“come with me.” he steps closer, water splashing, moonlight dawning over you two. “you had said you hated to go back to your home then stay. stay with me.”
he gently brought your hand to his chest as he stared into your eyes. like a trance he is how serene you are underneath the moonlight. your face softening with realization that he’s asking you to live with him. to stay by him forever. you could feel the thump of his heart underneath his skin, he intimately pressed his forehead against yours, never leaving your sight. you didn’t know what to say but just let him continue.
“this does not happen so often. and i fear it will never stop. ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga.” he whispers, lips brushing against yours, he is holding himself back not to rapture you here and now. sparks flew when you felt it, his other hand situated on your hip. a raw sensation you had now felt for him.
“what about my own life here?”
“i am not so cruel to not give you a choice, ki’ichpanech. but yes, i cannot risk you going back home for my nation if you were to choose to come with me.” you nodded at his words, understanding him. and now you gambled with the possibilities as namor waited patiently for your answer. your mind gambled with the possibilities, you’d leave everything behind.
“and if i chose to leave now?”
“then we will part ways and forget all of this.” he offers a small smile, concealing the pang in his chest.
“why me?” you quietly asked, the words he offered sinking in your mind.
“is it not obvious?” his nose brushed against the tip of yours, heat in his tone. “in ts'íiboltikech.”
a shuddery breath exhales through your lips. his warmth and his closeness should have been the answers but you could not imagine for a god— someone who’s deemed as a god to be wanting you. namor’s patience was wearing thin, if you chose to leave, he’ll gladly accept that, but he somehow hopes for the other one. your eyes shined, his heart thumped as your lips opened—
“in ts'íiboltikech.” you repeated his words as his irises darken, a grin forming as he gladly pulled you closer to him, the cool water splashing around the two of you. the cicadas quieting down, two hearts beating as one.
“ma'alob.” he whispers darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. those words of confirmation had him surging to capture your lips to his. he waited long enough, every night, every morning he thought of you. you were a plague in his mind, corrupting him to think of the most sinful things and the ones he yearned in his own thoughts.
and your lips were sweet, sweeter than the fruits he ever tasted in his life, and he wonders in the back of his mind if your cunt would taste sweeter. making his cock twitch at the thought.
you let out a tiny gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the chiffon scarf dropping to the ground. the built up tension between the two of you finally at it’s peak, sizzling down as he moved his lips slowly on yours. slow and passionate, wanting to savor it. your cheeks bloomed with heat when you felt the outline of his prick press against your stomach, hard and hot. catching you by surprised at how particularly needy he felt. but you were as well, absently rubbing your thighs against each other.
he pulls away, breathless making let out a tiny whine. “ko'ox.” he smirks, guiding you deeper in the water, your sundress getting wet but you didn’t care about that. only focused on the man who gently puts something on your face. you look at him questionably, he was holding up a mask of something.
“the dive is deep.” he explains, as he locks the mask in, ushering you gently with adoration in his eyes as you inhaled deeply, following his command.
“breathe, in yakunaj.”
•••
“amazing.” you uttered, staring up to the ceiling of the cave. glowworms were hanging by the stalactites. it emitted this soft blue hue while the sound of the waters of the cave joined in the beautiful scenery. your heart bloomed, you could almost forget about your own home by now. but a tinge of hesitance caused you to overthink this. was it right to leave everything behind? you questioned yourself, standing by the edge, close to the water.
how quick you are to throw everything away.
you bit your bottom lip, nervous you are, wondering if anyone back at the place you called home would question where you are in the following days— months even. you sighed to yourself, pushing it all away in the very back of your mind. you’d worry about that in a more appropriate time. but now here you are, feeling flushed remembering his lips, all thoughts away but just him.
“jats'uts.” his voice echoed, you jumped a bit in surprise as you turned to face him. the beads on your dress rattled, your cheeks glowed as namor went beside you. his eyes draped along your body, the traditional dress he provided for you after your sundress had been absolutely damped was an exquisite sight before him.
“beautiful.” he translated, dark eyes meeting yours. he steps closer, seeing your small shy smile. “the dress suits you so.” he grins.
“thank you for this.” you gestured to the beautiful dress, letting yourself be drawn in his beady orbs as you neared him, letting his hand slip to yours again.
“has this place always been your sanctuary?” you quietly asked as you two walked towards the hut he showed you a while ago that was filled with his murals. you were amazed to see how he had depicted his and his people lives on the wall by the stroke of his brush. the story of how the first talokanil came to be and so fort.
“yes. a place where i can be in solitude.” he nods and leads you inside, never leaving your side.
“and from here, talokan is just down below?” you looked around the room, stopping to admire the big mural on the wall.
“deep below, ki'ichpanech.” he responds, standing beside you, holding something in his hand. your eyes caught the glimpse of a beautiful ornament.
“this is beautiful.” you blurt out, looking to him for approval to touch it as he merely smiled.
“it was my mother’s.” he explains as you touched the beads gently, admiring how pretty it is.
“you said it was made for her before she turned talokanil?” namor nodded, liking the way you remembered his stories.
“as my first gift, i want you to have this.” he grasps your wrists making your heart burst. “a token for my affection.”
“you’ve given me enough. i feel like i should give you something in return.” you pouted as he ties the bracelet on your wrist, ignoring your furrowed look as he kisses you softly before you could protest more. you hummed between his lips, shutting up quickly as you eagerly reciprocated.
“it is not enough.” he says, squeezing the side of your waist. “you’ve already given something in return, in yakunaj. your presence here in my home is enough.” 
“but—“
his lips descended down to kiss your jaw, peppering down to your neck. inhaling your scent as he nips at your neck. pressing you harder against him, bulge brushing again on your stomach as you craned your neck to feel him sigh blissfully before he sucked and nipped, intent to make you feel mushy in his arms.
“k’uk’ulkan.” you whined as he chuckles.
“your body reacts so eagerly.” he whispers. “have you been waiting for me to touch you like this, ki’ichpanech?” you couldn’t respond but nod lightly, the warmth of his overwhelming. your lips are sealed from embarrassment how right he is. the scruff of his beard tickles you so as he bites a bit harder making you grip his shawl. the only item of clothing you noticed he wore after countless times you had seen him in those green shorts.
“t'aan.” he commands, hands descending down to grasp your ass harshly. you squealed as he hoists you up, legs automatically wrapping around his waist. hands on his broad shoulders as he guides both of you to the bed in his hut. your back hitting the bed, him towering over you. you could see the feral look in his eyes as you can’t help but obey him.
“je’el.” you whimpered as he slants his mouth to yours again, eating you up. he can’t help but smile at how his language rolls off your lips, his mayan lessons paying off to you. your soft hands cupped his cheek, fueling the desire. his hand descends down to caress your thigh, rubbing gently before your dress pools to your stomach, lower half exposed to the cold air. namor could feel the heat he yearned as his fingertips gently brushed against your exposed cunt. you bare underneath the dress he provided, his aching cock wishing to come out.
“táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen?” namor pressed his fingertip gently on your aching nub. you gasped, back arching, eyes slightly widening how the two of you are now doing this—
“please.” you begged as he only applied pressure, no rubbing or whatsoever, he seemed so smug as he had you this desperate. he shifts from his place, shrugging off his royal shawl, dropping it to the floor as he removes anything that might get into his way as he opens your legs, looking up for your consent as your eyes meet his.
“please.” you affirm again as he gingerly kisses the top of your knee.
he doesn’t know what fucking ambrosia fills his scent but the sight of your bare glistening cunt makes his whole body react accordingly. he descends down, kissing your knee before resting comfortably to kiss your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal tingling him.
“perfect.” he groans, can’t help but kiss your aching clit. licking his lips as your hands laced through his dark locks as he laps away like a starved man. you moan out, his tongue working wonders. you could not believe how eager he is to eat your cunt up like it’s his last meal. every flick, lick, kiss and suck, all over again and again making your thighs clamp hard around his head.
you fear you might suffocate him with your own cunt but you remembered the man literally breathes in water. namor could do this all day, he thinks, growling at how fucking tart your nectar is— how fucking dripping it is for him— only him.
namor melts between your thighs, in dazed and drunk. the sound of your muffled moans as the plush heat of your thighs at either sides of his face had him groaning. he sucks harsher, feeling your hips stutter as he puts his arm on top of your stomach to hold you in place. never stopping his feast, the more he licked and lapped, the more you begged with his name. his other hand could not help but slide down to his, gripping his clothed bulge, a shiver ran down his spine at the pressure that he could not take anymore.
“k’uk’ulkan…” you repeated, feeling your stomach coil in the pressure of his sinful mouth and tongue. he hums, pulling back, sitting up as his lips glistened with your arousal, fueling your desire as you whined. he palms himself, still staring down at you as you stared at the prize just under his hand. you carefully sat up, all thoughts seemingly trashed in your fucked-out mind. namor’s chest rose as he breathes in how angelic you are crawling towards him, your face dazed out and mouth glistening with your own saliva, hungry.
“what do you want, my love?” he asks as he grins making you momentarily look up to meet his eyes. you didn’t say anything as you pressed your lips to his bare stomach, making him shudder as his abs flexed the moment your soft lips touched his heated skin, the grip on his clothed cock tightened as you trailed down to meet his happy trail.
vixen. he surpasses the urge to call you that out loud, not when your hand is now shoving his hand away from his cock. he lets you do whatever you want with him, anticipation in his blood as your fingers curled in the hem of his shorts. ready for you to pull it down but you stopped for a moment as you stared up to him again, a plead in your gaze.
“can i?” you ask quietly.
something inside him breaks hearing your soft voice ask for his permission. he lets out a breath, hand coming up to caress your cheek as you nuzzled against his palm, waiting for his answer.
“je’el.” he nods, his words coming out in a slight tremble. he could feel himself succumb to the thought of you doing anything with him— everything in fact. you grin suddenly, breaking the eye contact as you pulled his shorts down completely, him helping you get it off as you tossed it to the ground.
namor groaned as his cock bounced up slightly, the cool air making him bite his lower lip as you gawked at it. you were speechless, taken aback, not expecting that it would be— that girthy in size. you gulped, remembering the countless times you would glance at his bulge whenever you two were either swimming in the sea or walking along the shore, it was something you couldn’t help but feel dirty for imagining what he truly looks like down their.
but now you’ve seen everything.
“you can take it, no?” he suddenly quips making you grumble in determination as you lulled yourself back from staring at his shaft. you wrapped your hand around his base making the said man shut up as he sighs out.
“i can.” you mumbled, totally not intimidated by his fucking length and girth overall. you pumped him slowly, right amount of pressure seeing the tip leak out a bit. wondering how you are making a said ‘god’ now weak on his knees, hearing little huffs come from his mouth but still looking so composed. you admired how reserved he looks as you dart your tongue out to lick the fat head.
“mierda—“ he grumbles, a hand gripping the back of your head as the other fumbled with your breast and whatever skin he can reach as he stays still watching you finally engulf him slowly. your mouth stretched accommodating his size as you hummed, liking the way he taste and maybe a tiny bit saltier— you were not complaining though.
“look at you.” he speaks with adoration, admiring the way you started to suck him off, letting him in deeper inside of your hot cavern inch by inch you can take. the way you are on your knees for him, glancing at him from time to time as you meet his hungry eyes. he resists the urge to fuck your mouth, savoring how determined you are to make him feel the same pleasure as he did on you. you were serious to making him feel good, bobbing your head up and down as your other hand gripped his base, pumping him where your mouth can’t reach. your eyes watered as the tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as you pulled him out, panting.
the string of saliva appeared as you licked your lips, kissing the tip again as you gently put him in your mouth again. namor hissed feeling the coil in his stomach almost snap. you continued on with your pace, liking the way you could hear his labored breaths and little groans, making you smile a bit as the salty taste of him had you addicted.
this is torture. namor thinks as he lets you suck him off for a bit before abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth, making you whine. he chuckles seeing your expression before he captured your lips again, tasting himself as he pushed you to lay back on the bed. you reciprocated with eagerness as you opened your legs for him to slant himself there, cock grazing your cunt making you let out a low moan in his mouth. namor swallows those pretty sounds of yours before pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours. a knowing look in his eyes as you waited for him to speak first.
“can i?” he finally asks, grinding himself on your cunt. you whimpered, looking down to see how desperate he is before looking back to his eyes.
“please.” you muttered, cupping his cheeks as shuffles in his place. his hand reaching down to grasp himself, positioning his head to rub against your entrance as you cursed at the wet feeling.
“k’uk’ulkan…” you mewled, anticipating he’d ram himself inside of you this instant but he’s patient as ever as he rubs the fat bulb of his head on your clit, gathering enough slick before finally pushing in slowly. making your back arch at the intrusion as your hands fly down to grasp his broad shoulders.
“is it too much?” he suddenly asks, concerned, watching you carefully. you smiled at his concerns as you kissed the tip of his nose.
“it’s perfect.” you whispered, clenching around him to signal him to get on with it. namor growls as he does what you want, bottoming out in you as deep as he can go. he stills for the moment, you two immersed at the feeling of each other. a sort of fuzzy feeling of something special how connected you two are. gentle caresses and kisses of encouragement exchanged between the two of you as he finally gives an experimental thrust.
“perfecto.” he sighs, kissing you again as you grinned. namor grinds into you slowly at first, feeling the way your walls clench around him as he hits a spot. he leaves kisses on your face, marks on your neck, whispers of undying loving words how you make him feel so good. you merely moan out his name as he starts to pick up a good pace that has you desperate on him.
“jach jats'uts yáanal tin.” he pants, hand caressing you everywhere as he stares at your blissed out face. each hard snap of his hips making your body bounce at the intensity. the lewd wet slapping adding in as heat and sweat enveloped you two. you whimpered at how his cock was hitting that spot making your hips wiggle and back arch. it felt so sticky yet so good at how he’s so passionate about this.
absolutely perfect. your mind screams as you wrap your arms around his torso, grasping his back as he fucks you with vigor. your whines like a sirens song to his ears, he rests his lips on your forehead as he pounds into you. feeling himself on the verge as you clenched around him tightly as ever, a signal to him that you were also cumming. namor kisses every inch of your face before swallowing up your moans you were about to cum. your heart pounded in synch with his as he desperately fucked into you. you gasped loudly, gripping his skin, nails digging, body convulsing with pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier, pounding in through your orgasm.
“ki’ichpanech…” namor practically breaths out your name next, eyes shutting for a moment as he feels him release. one, two, three powerful thrusts sends him home as he almost rips the beddings apart above your head. blood rushes to your ears as the intensity stops. he slumps a bit, laying his weight on your body but not too much, fearing you’d be crushed. both your breaths only to be heard as it fills the silence of the room.
everything slows down the moment when his eyes flutter open to meet yours. the exact same eyes he had first met in the moonlight. your heart soars to see him soften as you kissed him gently, soft and pillowy it felt, something slow after that. your hand instinctively brushes the stray hair from his forehead, sweat beading there. he plants more kisses again on your face as you giggled, only gasping as he removes himself abruptly. there are so many things you wanted to say to him in those moment but all are left unsaid when he laces your hands together. a glint in his eyes, all you adore.
“stay with me, ki’ichpanech.” he says, as if you would leave him. you can’t help but nod quickly as ever like you did when he asked you to go with him here. you knew what you were in for and you were sure for it, knowing your heart won’t stop beating so loudly when he smiles now as you mutter a verbal confirmation out, concealing it. the glimpse of his mother’s bracelet on your wrist a wonderful glimpse of a future.
“i will.”
I FINISHED IT FINALLY AND HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !! THANK U FOR THE PATIENCE. im back to writing finally. <3
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princeoxca · 2 years ago
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my gift for @thesupremequeen in the @namurigiftexchange. I hope you like it!
extra (poor namor lmao):
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revrover · 2 years ago
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The Stranger - Pt. 2
Part One: The Stranger
Part Three
Pairing: Namor x Reader
Word Count: 8k (lol whoops)
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, PLOT
Summary: Namor isn’t the only one who has been searching for his general. Thanks to you, Namora’s life was saved -- but when your connection to the two strangers brings you face to face with a hostile group of government agents, you find yourself in the crossfire of a much bigger conflict.
A/N: OMG first and foremost thank you for being here, thank your for coming back, and thank you for reading. This has taken me a bit longer to post because I’ve been pouring over it every day for a month, trying to get it just right. Comments, feedback and reblogs mean THE WORLD to me, so feel free to show some love and as always please be kind!
***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!
There is a growing unrest inside you.
Days have passed since your encounter with Namor after saving the life of his general, Namora. Two mysterious strangers who have left your mind reeling with questions, unrelenting and unquenchable as a flame that dares to spread like wildfire, consuming your thoughts entirely.
You repeatedly play the memory over in your head with no rational way to explain what you witnessed; her blue skin, his superhuman strength; the curious metal that outfitted both of their armor; how they disappeared into the vast open ocean.
"Something on your mind?" A fruit vendor asks, snapping you back to reality. You stand in the middle of the bustling village marketplace, doing your best to orient yourself quickly.
“Your head is — how you say…? — in the clouds, yes?” The vendor asks in her best English, smiling politely at you as she stands next to her cart, eager for you to buy something.
"Is it that obvious?" You joke with a tired laugh. "Two, please."
You scoop up a pair of fresh mangos and hand the woman some change from your pocket. She kindly accepts it with a nod of appreciation. Carefully sliding the fruit into your bag, you return a nod of your own.
You continue to walk through the market, the damp air carrying an aroma of local cuisine and sweat fills your lungs. Weaving your way in and out of aisles created by vendor carts, you feel a sense of calm as you watch the locals interacting with one another. There's beauty to be found in their sense of community.
Typically, you would gather your needed food and supplies and then be on your way back home, but today as your mind wanders, so do your feet.
Meandering down another aisle, your thoughts drift back to Namor, specifically the morning you found him on your front porch. You can practically feel the warmth of that sunrise as you imagine its light illuminating his dark eyes. You picture the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth when you asked him if he would come back, a moment you hold onto tightly. The memory gives you optimism that you will see him again someday and hopefully have the opportunity to ask him more questions.
Lost in thought, you hardly notice a small crate sticking out a few inches further than other accompanying carts in the aisle. Tripping your foot as you walk by, it nearly tumbles you to the ground. You manage to catch your balance and your breath before face-planting into the dirt. Immediately turning to apologize, you find an elderly man seated behind the crate, his back leaning against the wagon behind him and his eyes shut.
The man is slender and his head bald, save for a few wisps of hair above his ears. Most of his body is covered by a knitted green poncho, well-worn and fraying along the hem. To both your relief and surprise, he seems completely undisturbed by your clumsy collision with his crate of goods. Unsure if he’s even awake, you reach down to help reset any items on the crate you may have displaced.
Your jaw drops slightly as you see the contents on display. Spread out on a velvet brown tablecloth sits a small assortment of beautiful books, scrolls, and other documents. Admiring them, you reach out and push back one of the scrolls, revealing a gorgeous hand-sketched portrait of the island.
“Did you draw this?” You ask, impressed by the skill of it.
“Mmm,” He hums, shaking his head, "But I made very good trade with the man who did.”
You find his answer odd, though slightly amusing, considering he never opened his eyes to see which piece you were referring to. As you browse the rest of the items, a particular book stands out to you. It’s different from the rest of the collection — small and bound in leather, although the leather itself is worn and brittle-looking. You pick it up and inspect it closer. The binding is loose, the pages aged and tattered.
“Careful with that one. Very old.” The elderly man says, his eyes remaining shut. “Nearly 400 years. Got it in a trade with a visiting merchant from our southeastern sister islands."
How does he even do that? You wonder as you start delicately flipping through the pages of the book. You make it about midway through when you open to a particular page that makes you freeze, your heart nearly jumping out of your throat. Your eyes widen as you bring the page closer to your face.
It’s a crude drawing — basic, two-dimensional, and very old like the man said, but the likeness is undeniable. Depicted is the figure of a man. He dawns a grand snake-like headpiece and is grasping a spear. His body is adorned with jade and other metals. Sharp ears. Winged ankles.
"Excuse me!” you ask the elderly man with an exasperated breath, practically jumping over the crate as you lean forward and shout, “These!" You flip the book around to show him the open page, pointing excessively at the picture and the glyphs below it. "What do these say?!"
Your voice is eager and desperate, emotions you hardly try to hide.
The man's left eye slowly squints open.
“Only few are still legible.” He says, shrugging.
“Okay, yes, but the ones you can read, what do they say?!” You plead.
He sighs, opening his other eye and leaning forward slightly to get a better look. After a moment, he leans back against the wagon and closes his eyes again.
"King. Serpent. God. Monster."
You hang on to each word he tells you. Turning the book back around, you bring it back up to your face for another closer inspection.
"How much?" You ask, ready to make a deal.
The elderly man cracks one eye open to look at you for a moment as he considers his price, then wordlessly points to your arm with a feeble finger. You follow his gaze down to the small beaded bracelet around your wrist — the last reminder of your life before coming to the island. You hold your arm up to him, making sure you understand correctly. He nods politely, and without hesitation, you untie the bracelet and toss it to him.
"Nice doing business!" He says with a wide grin as he holds up the bracelet. You are already nose-deep in the book as you turn on your heels, quickening your pace as you head home where you can study more carefully.
Maneuvering your way out of the market to the outskirts of the village, you hardly need your eyes to guide your feet home. You take advantage of the remaining daylight to examine the pages as you walk, turning page after page and scanning for any information about Namor and his people. There’s little there, the book seeming to be a very old, mingled account of island history and lore. Seeing as you are not a historian and certainly not a linguist, it’s difficult to decipher. Still, you do your best to piece together what you can from the pictures.
King. Serpent. God. Monster.
The sky begins to dim. You can hear the faint roar of waves as you near the coastline. It’s too dark to see much detail on the pages now, so you carefully tuck the book into your bag as you step over the trunks of palm trees. The path beneath your feet gradually turns from brush to sand, and soon you find yourself walking along the familiar stretch of beach that leads you home. You stare out into the darkness, listening to the rhythmic pattern of ocean waves and breathing in the salty evening air. The moon hovers above the water, burning brightly as countless stars paint the sky behind it.
You continue walking in the darkness, but there’s an uneasiness building in your gut the further you go. You should be nearing home by now, but no lanterns have come into view. You always light lanterns before heading into town. They burn for hours in your absence so, by the time you return, you have light to guide you. All you see now are shadows and silhouettes that dance against the tree line, and every sound and indiscernible movement has you on edge.
It’s not until you are nearly a stone's throw away that the bungalow materializes in the night. Your stomach twists as the wind blows by you, rustling your hair and causing the snuffed-out lanterns hanging from your porch to creak as they swing back and forth. You hear shuffling, and small beams of light sporadically shine through the cracks of lumber that make up the walls of your home.
There is someone inside.
An alarm goes off in your head, screaming at you to get out. As quietly as possible, you begin backing away. Eyes fixed on the bungalow, you take one step back. Then another. Then another. Then — thud.
Your stomach flips and your throat tightens. While you pray you’ve miscalculated and miraculously made it to the tree line in three short steps instead of thirty, you feel the unmistakable presence of a body directly behind you.
“Going somewhere?” A deep voice growls menacingly. It belongs to a man, his tone gruff, although you can’t quite make out his accent. You do, however, feel the blood drain from your face as you slowly turn your head, finding what is quite possibly the largest human being you have ever seen. Dressed in black military-grade tactical gear and armed with enough ammo and firepower to take on a small army, you know there is no fucking way you are getting away from this guy.
The man grabs your arm and forcefully drags you toward the bungalow. Once up the stairs, he pushes you inside and releases his grasp. You rub your arm and look up to find another man standing in your kitchen, his back turned away from you as he stands hunched over your table. He’s dressed in similar tactical gear and has a walkie-talkie hooked to his belt. A lantern burns next to him as he seems to be pouring over some sort of map.
“Sir,” the man behind you bellows.
The man at the table straightens his posture and turns around to face you both. His hair is buzzed and his face is stubbly, with a thick prominent mustache that stretches across his upper lip. He seems a bit older, and by the ‘sir’ formality, you are fairly confident he is in charge.
“Ah, we were wondering when you would be back.” He says in a sly tone, his accent American.
“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?” You respond in anger to the unwelcome visitor.
The man takes a sweeping look around the place, then his eyes come back to you.
“I think we can agree that “house” is a bit of a loose term.” He responds with sarcasm, a knowing look on his face. You continue to stare him down, unresponsive to his quip. The man loosens his shoulders and smiles at you. “Where are my manners? Agent Barrett.” He reaches his hand out, offering to shake yours.
You don’t move a muscle.
There is an awkward moment of silence, then Agent Barrett’s hand retreats. He turns, beginning to pace around your tiny kitchen. The room is in rougher shape than usual, clearly ransacked by whatever search was conducted before your arrival. The agent picks up a small roll of gauze from off the counter and holds it up.
“Tell me,” he says, inspecting the bandage material closely, “have you had any visitors recently?” His gaze quickly flicks over to you, an eyebrow raised.
Your pulse quickens as your blood turns to ice. Your mind immediately flashes to Namora floating wounded in the water; to Namor breaking down your door; to the two of them disappearing into the night. You put on your best poker face and shake your head.
“There’s no one around here for miles,” you explain, trying to be as convincing as possible. “You should try more inland towards the village. Most tourists, if any, stick closer to town or retreat to the far side of the island where—“
“Oh, she’s no tourist.” Agent Barrett chuckles, cutting you off. It feels insulting as if your suggestion were so preposterous it was borderline humorous.
She. He is looking for Namora.
Setting the gauze down next to the sink, Agent Barrett turns and walks over to you.
“You’re certain you haven’t seen anybody unusual around here in the past few days?”
He’s standing much closer now. Something about him makes your skin crawl. You eye the gun strapped to his hip and doubt it is for self-defense. Again, you shake your head.
Barrett sighs and gives you a disappointed smile.
“Okay.” He says softly while nodding his head. He backs away from you as the room lingers in silence. You allow yourself to take a breath, but the relief is short-lived. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”
On Barrett’s cue, the large man behind you grabs your shoulder and kicks the back of your legs, dropping you hard to your knees. With his free hand, he yanks the bag off your other shoulder and tosses it to another man who emerges from the doorway to your bedroom. He catches the bag and immediately starts rummaging through it.
“Hey—HEY!” You shout, “What the hell are you—“
“A woman!” Barrett yells. “Pale blue skin. Very skilled swimmer. Four days ago, she single-handedly took down three UN-sanctioned vessels in the middle of the goddamn Atlantic! Three! Now where I’m from,” he crouches down to your level, aggressively getting in your face as he drops his voice lower, “that’s what we call an act of terrorism.”
Adrenaline overtakes your body as you feel your heart beat so intensely it threatens to break right out of your chest. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Barrett’s henchman searches your bag. He pulls out the mangos and tosses them on the floor. Then, he grabs the old leather-bound book. Turning it over in his hand, he looks at it for a moment and tucks it into his belt.
“She was wounded,” Barrett continues, calling your attention back to him, “and our intelligence indicates she washed up somewhere along this shoreline. That's where her trail goes cold. And as you said, there's no one around here for miles. No one, except you."
His implication is obvious.
“This woman, where is she?” He makes a last-ditch effort to convey a friendly tone, but you can hear his patience dwindling. "And please don't make me ask again."
You stare at him coldly, lips sealed together. You’re not telling this man a damn thing.
"Mmmm," is all he grunts, his eyes dropping to the ground. He heaves a heavy sigh as he pushes against his knees to stand up. Once on his feet, Agent Barrett stares at you for another moment before nodding his head to the agent behind you. The next thing you know, you are suddenly being pulled up by your hair, the man’s grip tight against the back of your neck as he turns and pushes you out the door.
Your hands clamor to his as you struggle against him to relieve the painful tension pulling on your scalp, attempting to release his grip on you. But the man is too strong and drags you down the stairs of your porch with ease. You make it a few meters down the shore when he shoves you down to your knees. Your legs make divots in the sand as your hands catch the rest of your body’s momentum. Hunched over, your knees and palms sting from the sand's friction.  
You immediately tense up as you feel a gun press against your head, the cool metal barrel hungry to fire. Hearing footsteps approaching behind, you quickly swallow your fear to maintain composure. Agent Barrett walks past, turning to position himself directly in front of you again — only this time, he doesn’t crouch down to your level.
“Look at me.” He demands as he towers over you. His body language makes it clear who is in control. In the only act of defiance you have left in your arsenal, you keep your gaze laser-focused on the water straight ahead of you, refusing to give in to his instruction. Growing impatient, Barrett roughly grabs your chin. He clasps it tightly as he yanks your jaw upward, forcing you to make eye contact with him.
“You’re going to tell me about your friend, and you’re going to tell me where she is, right now," he growls.
You stare at him, disdain in your eyes. You momentarily scan your surroundings and count nearly twenty other men on the beach now. It’s enough to make your gaze and your heart sink straight to the ground.
Even if you wanted to tell him, you don't have the answers Barrett is looking for. His face hardens as your lack of cooperation and unwillingness to talk becomes clearer and clearer. Loosening his grip and dropping your chin, Agent Barrett looks at the agent next to you.
“Do it,” he orders, leaving you without another word as he walks back up the beach toward the bungalow.
The gun presses even harder against your temple and you hear the irrefutable sound of it being cocked as a bullet rolls into the chamber. Your heart is heavy as your eyes begin to well with tears. You stare out at the ocean, the night swallowing the horizon save it for the piercing glow of the moon that cuts its way through the sky down to Earth. It’s a better view than most get in their final moments, you suppose. For that, you consider yourself lucky.
Time seems suspended as you feel the ocean breeze blow past you, pouring over your skin and filling your lungs as you deeply inhale these final moments. You savor the way the salty air envelops you like the comforting embrace of an old friend. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try fighting back the tears. Despite your best efforts, one single drop escapes, racing down your cheek as you accept your fate.
Zzzzziiinnng!
Where you expect to hear the split-second ring of a gun firing before getting your brain blasted out the side of your skull, you instead hear a high-pitched whistling through the air and the unmistakable slice of a blade penetrating flesh. The weight of the gun barrel against your head slides limply away, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground next to you.
Your eyes shoot open. You turn to see your executioner now lying dead on his back with a spear pelted through his chest. Your eyes widen in fear, then settle on the spear itself. A spear you recognize — because it’s the same one that was held to your throat only a few days earlier.
Namor.
He's here. Desperately your eyes search the ocean line, scouring the darkness for him.
"We're under attack!" Someone yells frantically from behind you. It is one of Barrett’s men.
"Open Fire! Open fire!" Another one shouts.
You immediately abandon your search for Namor, hitting the deck and covering your head as dueling bullets and spears fly over you. Hearing anguished cries from both sides, you peek out from over your arm and watch in horror as an agent a few meters away looks down at their dart-ridden chest. They drop to their knees, then fall forward onto their face.
Your head whirls around at the sound of another spear making contact with a body and dropping it to the ground. This agent is about ten meters away from you, and while your first instinct is to get the hell out of there — run as far as you can as fast as you can — you notice your little leather-bound book tucked into the belt of the lifeless body.
You tell yourself to leave it. You plead with yourself to leave it.
“Damn it,” you mutter in frustration to yourself. You are getting that book.
Before you can give it another thought, you are already army-crawling through the sand. The sound of gunfire rings in your ears as more weapons return their fire. You scramble to the body, staying low to the ground on your chest and abdomen. Once there, you reach out and grab the book, wrangling it free from the deceased man's belt. You shove it into your waistband when something behind you explodes, causing you to duck your head and shield yourself with your arms.
The battle is deafening and disorienting. The mix of adrenaline and shock threatens to override your entire system as you try to maintain your focus.
Keep moving, you tell yourself.
You lift your head, ready to run, but your breath catches and you freeze. Mere inches from your face, you find yourself staring at someone’s feet and feel the presence of their body hovering over you. You brush the stinging sand out of your eyes, pleading in your mind that this is not the end. Not now. As your vision sharpens, you feel a surge of hope. There in front of you are two winged ankles.
Your eyes shoot up. Standing above you, illuminated by the light of the moon and the rapid sparks of machine guns firing, is Namor.
He looks down at you, his stare intense as his nostrils flare and his chest rises and falls with each breath. Gripping the hilt of the spear, he effortlessly removes it from the body next to you with one pull, his eyes never leaving yours. The ongoing battle on the beach doesn’t deter his attention from you in the slightest. From behind him, a handful of armed warriors with pale blue skin come storming out of the ocean.
“Namora!” He calls, and one warrior immediately splits off from the group. While the others continue to push the team of agents to the far side of the beach, the general comes to Namor’s side and your eyes widen as you take her in. Almost unrecognizable from when you first met her, Namora is a sight to behold. Instead of weak and wounded, she now stands strong and commanding, fully outfitted in her armor of woven jade and metal. Dazzling lionfish spines adorn her head and neck, and she wears the same mesh apparatus over her nose and mouth as before. You are astounded when you squint and barely see a seam remaining where you had stitched her up.
“K'uk'ulkan.” She answers, standing at attention.
Namor’s eyes are still fixed on you. He hands the retrieved spear to Namora and then nods in your direction.
You become nervous, suddenly uncertain if the pair of them have come to you as friend or foe, watching as Namora tightens her grip around the weapon.
“Go.” Namor urges, and a wave of relief washes over you. Friend.
“Where are my goddamn reinforcements?!!” You hear someone shout into a walkie-talkie. You recognize the voice as Agent Barrett's.
“Go NOW,” Namor commands, his eyes flicking up in Barrett’s direction. The expression on his face becomes menacing as he strides past you, his muscles rigid and his pace purposeful. He pulls his own spear out of the larger agent who nearly executed you as he walks past the body, arming himself.
Without hesitation, Namora strides forward and links her arm under your shoulder, pulling you up to your feet and yanking you quickly toward the trees. Before you can reach them, however, more men dressed in black combat gear come pouring out of the thick foliage, ready to attack.
Three surround you as the others rush to provide relief further down the beach. Instead of guns, these agents come armed with batons and other blunt weapons. Namora whips you back behind her, placing herself between you and the approaching enemy. She walks toward the agents, rotating her spear in her hand. You’re surprised by how relaxed her posture is as she waits for the men, each one at least twice her size, to make the first move.
The agent to her right makes the first advance, lunging forward at Namora. She meets him with speed and ferocity, quickly sidestepping him only to grab hold of his shoulders. She uses them as an anchor to whirl herself around him, gracefully landing and her feet and then lodging her spear into his back. The man cries out in pain, but Namora quickly delivers the final blow as she twists the spear in deeper and shoves it upward toward his lungs.
No sooner does his body hit the ground when the two other men charge at her. Like a beautifully choreographed dance, Namora drops to her knees, sliding across the sand between them to duck under their attacks. As she does so, she nimbly summersaults back onto her feet and turns one hundred and eighty degrees. Back on the attack, she runs hard at them. You watch as Namora delivers a combination of charged punches to one agent, then springs back to avoid the swing of the baton from the other. To counter the move, she kicks the man above the kneecap with so much power it sends his whole leg backward and brings him to his knees. She grabs the sides of his head with both of her hands, thrusting it down hard against her knee. You feel the grisly sound of blunt broken bone deep in your core as his skull makes contact.
As the man’s head reels backward, blood pouring from his face, Namora seamlessly transitions between her two opponents, avoiding another attack from the third agent she had previously deflected with punches. Her attention back on him, she trades blows as they fight in more hand-to-hand combat. Between kicks, punches, and counter-punches, Namora strategically inches herself backward until she’s practically standing on top of the first body she dropped. Baiting her current opponent forward, she taunts him with the tilt of her head, exaggerated by her headpiece. It works like a charm. He charges at her, and swooping under him, she wraps around his chest and pulls him over the top of her, flipping him onto his back. In one calculated motion, she pulls her spear from the body of the first agent which is now easily within reaching distance, and drives it into the second.
It all plays out in front of you so quickly when the third agent with the broken nose — well, broken face, really — groans as he gets himself up, ready to have another go at Namora. She engages, but as she moves towards him you see a fourth man emerge from the trees, raising a gun to shoot.
“LOOK OUT!” You yell to warn her, but pure instinct has your feet sprinting forward to stop him.
You don’t process any thought or consider any tactic, you just hurl yourself at him. The two of you collide, crashing to the ground with all the power and momentum you can muster. You scramble for his gun and manage to knock it away, but he barrels you over him and slams your back against the ground. The impact forces the air out of your lungs, temporarily paralyzing you as you struggle for breath. The agent straddles your body, putting more pressure on your chest as he pulls a knife from his hip. With all your strength, you fight to hold his arm back. He breaks through your grasp and takes a swipe at you, but reflexively you deflect it away with your hand. The knife slices open your palm and you cry out as you try to continue pushing his arms back.
When he raises his blade again, a blur of orange lionfish spines come streaking across as Namora flies over the back of the agent and yanks him off of you. They tumble across the sand, but she quickly gains the upper hand by entangling him in a headlock. Clutching your injured hand and still struggling for oxygen, you look on as she tightens her grip around the man’s neck and then abruptly cracks it to the side.  
The sound makes you sick to your stomach, but you also feel a sense of relief. And gratitude. Your chest heaves as you finally start to catch your breath, your entire body buzzing. You turn to see the dead agents Namora has so quickly disposed of, their bodies dispersed across the sand. She unwraps herself from her most recent kill and makes her way to you with haste.
As she reaches you, you hear the chaos and fighting continue further down the beach. Then, the faint sound of a helicopter approaching. Barrett’s reinforcements.
“There are too many of them,” you say in distress as you witness more agents pour out onto the sand to fight Namor’s warriors. Even if each one had Namora’s four-to-one kill ratio, they are still outnumbered. As the chopper blades get louder, Namora looks at you intensely, reaching out her hand.
“Come,” she insists.
She’s gotten you this far. You grasp her hand without hesitation and she pulls you to your feet. You edge closer to the tree line where you hope safety and concealment await you, but as you reach the lush landscape something pricks your ears. It’s not gunfire. It’s not the chopper.
Namora tugs your arm as she tries to usher you into the trees, but your focus is elsewhere. A faint, melodic breeze moves past you like a ghost, causing your mind to become hazy. As the sound grows louder, an indescribable melody rings in your ears that is both euphoric and dreadful. You don’t even notice the tension of Namora’s grip on your hand increase as your feet redirect you toward the water, compelled by its call.
“No!” Namora yells at you as she yanks your arm. The force of it snaps your attention back for a moment, and you watch as the agents who line the beach suddenly cease fighting and instead walk undeterred paths straight into the water. Terror fills you as they wade further and further out, the water coming up to their knees, then their hips, then their chests, until they are completely submerged underneath.
You shoot a glance to Namora, petrified and confused. Whatever is happening, she seems unaffected. Your thoughts and vision begin to cloud again, and you feel like someone else is controlling your body as the ocean summons you along with the others. Every part of you feels entranced by the chorus of voices in the air as their notes overwhelm your senses and leave you disoriented. Namora grabs you, practically throwing you over her shoulder as she runs into the trees. You become hard to carry, so she pulls you both into the cove of a sheltered root system at the edge of the foliage. Huddling next to you, Namora tightly wraps her arms around your head to cover your ears with her hands.
Pupils dilated, you desperately try to hold onto any shred of active consciousness before giving in entirely to the song. Your mind becomes infiltrated by it and begins to process what you see in pieces; men in the water, drowning themselves; gunfire raining down from the night sky; Namor, spear in hand, leaping into the air, taking impossible strides toward a chopper; the chopper spinning out of control.
You feel the heat against your face as the chopper crashes to the ground, exploding on impact. The last thing you remember seeing is Namor in the distance, standing on the sand. Illuminated by the raging inferno that burns behind him from the destroyed chopper, he is fierce, incredible, and terrifying.
A god. A monster.
The haunting chorus melody continues to consume your mind. Even with Namora’s help, you feel your body shift as it involuntarily attempts to get up. Namora squeezes her palms over your ears with even more strength and restrains your movements.
"No." She whispers fiercely.
You squeeze your eyes shut, covering your hands over Namora's as tightly as possible. Blood pours from your hand down hers, trickling onto your shoulder. The noise is too much, and as you feel yourself begin to scream, everything goes black.
——
Your feet drag through the cool sand.
That’s the first thing you see when you finally become conscious again. Your head hangs low in front of you, pounding as it bobs up and down. It’s still dark out, but you find your home lit up by more lanterns as you approach the pathway to your porch.
You glance to your right and left,  discovering you are being assisted by two people on either side of you — Namora on your right and a much taller blue-skinned man on your left. His shoulders are wide and his head is outfitted with an armored hammerhead skull. Arms slung around both of their necks, your body is in a state of pure exhaustion as they get you up the stairs to the door.
As you start to step with your own feet, they are alerted by your recovered consciousness. Quickly, the man unhooks your arm from around him, steadying you against Namora. He retreats as you find yourself gaining feeling back in your body. Namora patiently waits for you to get your bearings, and when you do she opens the front door for you, ushering you to go inside. You follow her instruction, and there waiting for you in the bungalow is Namor.
Namor stands against your kitchen counter, the same place you stood when he first came crashing into your home. His arms are folded across his broad chest. Although his head is down, his eyes are flicked upward toward you, watching your every move. The flame of a lantern on the table glints off his irises, illuminating the dark stare that hovers just below his furrowed brow.
“Please, sit.” He says with a stern voice, his open palm gesturing toward a chair at the table.
As you sit down, you hear the front door close behind you.
Silence.
"Those men," he finally says, pushing himself away from the counter as he stands up straighter, “they were seeking information?"
You only nod, afraid to say too much.
“It’s safe to speak here. I’ve made sure of it.” He promises, sensing your reluctance to engage in conversation.
“They wanted to know about Namora." You answer cautiously.
Namor's expression grows even more serious. He subtly shifts his weight from side to side before settling back into the center of his powerful stance.
"And even with your life on the line, you said nothing."
You are unsure if he is making a statement or a question.
"Why?" He asks through a clenched jaw.
"Why?" You repeat back to him, caught off guard by the question. "Does it matter why?"
"Yes,” Namor says directly, raising his eyebrows. “Because I need to know if I put my spear through the right person.”
The seriousness of his statement hits you like a brick. Your mind flashes back to the beach, you on your knees with a gun to your head as Namor’s spear plows its way through the man next to you. How easily, you wonder, could he have changed his aim by just a few degrees if you had decided to open your mouth and spill what little information you did know to those men?
As you think about it, you also begin to ask yourself why. Why did you keep your mouth shut? Why did you help Namor and his people?
You take a deep breath as you consider your reasons, then lift your gaze to him.
“You barged into my home, broke down my door, and threatened my life. But even then, the motives behind your actions were clear — the love and concern for your people. These men,” your eyes trail away as you feel a wave of anger build up inside, "these men were driven by self-interest and self-preservation. It wasn’t hard to choose a side.”
His face is stoic as he listens to your answer.
“Plus,” you add, “I promised you I wouldn’t say anything. Twice.”
Namor looks at you the same way he did the night you met him. The look that tells you he is debating whether or not you are telling the truth. You are a witness testifying on the stand, and Namor is your judge and jury.
“Well, that is twice now you have saved my people. Again you have my gratitude." He says with a sigh, his expression softening.
You give a small smile, but it disappears when an unrelenting ache pounds inside your head, pulling you out of the moment. You reach up to rub your temple and suddenly feel a surge of pain coming from your hand, instantly reminding you of the injury you sustained from your face off against one of the agents on the beach.
“Shit,” You exclaim, pulling your cut, bloodied palm away from your face and looking at it.
"Here," Namor says, grabbing the roll of gauze off your kitchen counter as he moves in your direction. Pulling up a chair, he sits down directly in front of you so your knees are practically touching. He gestures for your hand. “May I?"
You consider his offer as you stare at the thick veins protruding from his forearm, binding themselves to his defined muscles like vines around a tree. Eyes darting back up to his, you cautiously nod your head to accept his help while simultaneously extending your arm to him.
Namor takes your injured hand gently in his own, cradling it as if it could shatter into a million pieces. Amazed by how his hand dwarfs yours, you feel a surge of energy in your chest when his thumb begins to rub along your wrist. He takes the roll of gauze and begins carefully wrapping it around your palm.
Calmly maneuvering each layer of the bandage, Namor's brow furrows ever so slightly as he slips deeper into a state of concentration. His grasp is firm but gentle, rotating your hand in tandem with the bandage and you take comfort in his touch.
Studying his face, you admire each feature and detail closely. You see the traces of salt against the rich tones of his skin, and soon your willpower gives way to a desire slowly being coaxed inside you as you allow your eyes to trail from his face to his broad shoulders, down his muscular biceps, and finally to his strong hands as they work to take care of you.
Namor begins humming softly as he continues wrapping your hand. There's a warm timbre in his voice that resonates in your ears, drawing your gaze back up to his face.
"That song..." your voice trails off as you grow more entranced by it, unable to find the words to describe its intoxicating melody. But a surge of fear runs through you as you recall another tune, the one from the beach, its haunting cadence prickling the back of your mind.
"My people have many songs," Namor says in a tone equally rich to his humming, calming you instantly. "Each one with a meaning and purpose."
"What is the purpose of that one?" You ask quietly.
Namor’s hands stop as his eyes wander up to yours.
"It's a lullaby, meant to bring the soul peace." His eyes flutter back down as he resumes wrapping the bandage around your hand. "My mother would sing it to me when I was a child."
"It's beautiful." You say reverently.
A smile spreads across Namor's face, but there's a hint of sadness in it. He leans down to your hand and you can feel your heart beat faster as his mouth hovers mere inches above your skin. The warmth of his breath rushes against your wrist, sending shivers through you. With great care, he tears the gauze with his teeth before tucking the loose end into a fold of the bandage.
"It is," he agrees, staring down at your hand which he now holds carefully between his own. "Especially in a world where peace is scarcely found."
His voice is gentle, but there is a bitterness brewing beneath the statement.
"I have spent my life ensuring peace for my people. Protecting it. Preserving it."
Namor looks back up at you, letting go of your hand as he sits up straighter in his chair. The room is quiet as his words sink in and you drop your gaze to think. As you do so, your good free hand migrates to the leather book still tucked in your waistband, your fingers fiddling with the binding.
“What is it?” Namor asks, snapping your eyes back up to his. You swallow nervously, unsure if you should share what is on your mind. Then again, you may not get another opportunity.
Slowly, you pull the book out from against your side, opening it to its marked page before pushing it across the table to him.
“You say you’ve spent your entire life protecting your people.” You preface, hesitating a moment before asking your question. “Is that... you?"
Namor stares at the book in front of him, tracing the outline of his likeness delicately on the open page with his fingertips.
"A version of me." He answers.
"How...." you rub your temple as you do the unnecessary math in your head, already knowing the hundreds of years difference between the book and the man in front of you doesn't add up. "How is that even possible? That book is centuries old, I mean," you are at a loss trying to wrap your head around it all, coming up short with any logical explanation, “who are you?"
Namor looks up at you, then his gaze descends back onto the open book. He gives a sad smirk.
“You are one of very few to ever ask who I am instead of what I am." He strokes his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. "The answer to neither of which will be found in your book." He says, shutting it and sliding it back toward you. You reach for it, only he doesn’t take his hand off the leather cover right away.
"You must always be weary of your authors.” He warns. “The preservation of one's opinion over time does not make it fact, no matter how long ago it was written."
He relinquishes his hold, you finish sliding the book back to your side of the table. Namor searches your face as his eyebrows pull closer together, a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes.
"I wear the mantle of king and am the protector of my people.” He begins. “They are my responsibility by birthright, a charge I’ve dedicated my entire life to upholding.”
Namor proceeds to tell you the story of his people — how they were driven from their home by Spanish conquistadors, and how their gods provided a remedy for a foreign disease that led them to seek sanctuary in the ocean itself. He explains that his mother was among them, pregnant with Namor at the time, and how the remedy herb altered his very being in the womb. Mutant is the word he uses, the reason for his strength and abilities, as well as his slow aging. He then describes the horrors he had seen upon returning his mother’s body to the surface world after her death, and the vow he took to keep outsiders away from his people and his beloved city he calls Talokan.
"So you see," he says leaning forward as he places his forearms on his knees, his face even closer to yours now, "I am no god. Nor am I a man. What I am is a leader who loves his people. If that makes me a monster, so be it. I will see the world burn before I subject my people to its sins and savagery.”
It’s a lot to take in. You study Namor’s expression as his stare now lingers away from you, his mind somewhere in the past. You can’t even begin to comprehend all that he has seen or experienced, but you do feel a clearer understanding of why he is the way he is. Filled with compassion for him, you cautiously reach up and cradle his face with your non-bandaged hand.
"You're not a monster." You reassure him gently.
This brings Namor’s attention back to you immediately, his dark eyes searching your face earnestly as he takes a deep breath through his nose. The bristles of his scruff are rough against your palm, creating a warm friction when he leans into your touch. Namor closes his eyes and lets out a sigh so deep it's as if he's releasing a weight from his shoulders, one that he has been carrying for far too long. His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing it deeper against his cheek.
“K’uk’ulkan,” a voice calls from behind you. You drop your hand back down to your lap as Namor glances over your shoulder. The man with the metal hammerhead skull stands at attention in the front doorway, his body so large it consumes the space entirely. Namor nods at him, then looks back at you.
"It's time," he says, pushing himself up to his feet. “More men will be coming. Namora is outside — collect what you need quickly, she will take you to a safe place.”
The realization sets in, and your heart sinks. Your home is no longer safe and you can’t stay here.
Namor offers you his hand, helping you out of your chair and onto your feet. In doing so, he pulls you into him and tucks his hand delicately under your chin. He’s impossibly close as he tilts your face upward toward his own.
"I am sorry." He whispers, a soft and apologetic tone in his voice. He gives you a remorseful look, but all you can think about is how little space currently exists between his lips and yours. Namor’s gaze flutters down from your eyes to your mouth, but the moment is fleeting as he drops his hand from your chin and takes a step back.
“Go.” He says, encouraging you to get your things. It’s his last word before walking past you and exiting out the front door.
Left alone in the empty bungalow, you make your way over to your bag still on the floor from earlier that evening. You take it and march into your room, grabbing some clothes, your toothbrush, and other small essentials. You don't have much in terms of possessions in the first place, so it doesn’t take long for you to collect what you need.
As you exit your bedroom, you get ready to leave when you look over at the small book on your table. Namor insisted it held no answers for you, but you go to retrieve it anyway, stuffing it in your bag along with the rest of your belongings.
You take one last look around your home, once an unfamiliar broken place that over time became your haven and sanctuary. It breaks your heart to leave, but you know you must.
“Thank you,” you quietly whisper to the room, hoping in some way its energy or spirit or anything can hear you. You make your final exit, walking out to the front porch just as the dawn is starting to break over the horizon. Warm hues cast shadows of orange and red across the island, and you breathe in the early morning air. As you look out across the beach, you are surprised by what little evidence remains of the night’s events. No bodies. No fires. Just large divots in the sand and some smoke along the tree line from a few singed palms.
Namora is standing at the edge of the pathway leading to your porch, waiting for you. Descending the stairs, nerves prompt you to tighten your grip on the shoulder strap of your bag as you brace yourself for the unknown.
“I’m ready,” you say when you reach her.
Namora looks at you seriously, then nods her head. Reaching up to her face, she carefully removes the apparatus from over her nose and mouth. It is the first time you have seen her whole face, unobstructed by the peculiar covering. She’s just as striking without it, and you notice a beautiful jade ring pierced through her septum, echoing Namor’s. She turns the mask in her hand and guides it onto your face, sealing it against your skin.
“Come,” she tells you, turning toward the ocean.
You take one last look back at your home, then fall into stride behind Namora as the two of you walk into the water.
-- -- -- 
Tag List (I think this is how you do it? Sorry if not, still figuring this whole Tumblr-thing out): @looneylikesbooks @omgsuperstarg @chixkencxrry @vainillasmil157 @demoiseller @sodonuthideout @shoutaaizawas @stany0url0calwh0res111 @hjjks @duckwithsunglasses
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imthataliensuperstar · 2 years ago
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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 😩
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multific · 2 years ago
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The Same Mistake
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K'uk'ulkan x Reader
A/N: Alternate version of Second Chance. 
You were once a Queen, now you were a traitor. 
The people who used to respect and love you, turned against you and chased you out of the water.
Along with the love of your life, K'uk'ulkan or you should probably call him, Namor.
The man who once loved you more than anything. The man who promised you everything.
Turned against you all because you refused to fight. 
He was ready for a war against Wakanda and the entire world. He wanted to burn it all down. He wanted you by his side. 
But you refused.
And so, you were chased away.
Thankfully, the Wakandans were extremely kind people, Shuri offered you a home near the river. Even if you told her you couldn't return to the water.
Namor said he would personally come to kill you if you do.
And so, you and your baby had to learn to live above water.
Your baby, as you often ran your hand down your belly, was the very reason you refused to participate in the fights.
Your baby was the reason you didn't wish to burn the world along with Namor. 
You refused to give birth to your child and bring them to a world of misery and pain.
If because of that, you were said to be a traitor, so be it.
When you refused to fight, your child was only a suspicion of yours, you weren't sure if you were really pregnant or not.
Wakanda was even kind enough to guide you to a lake. A lake not connected to any other water, in there you gave birth to your daughter.
Your beautiful daughter who looked just like your husband.
She became your everything. It broke your heart that she might never see Talokan.
But you will try your best to show her that not all people on the surface are bad.
Once she was of age, you often brought her with you to the market. Almost everyone knew the little Princess by now. Kindly named after her grandmother, Fen was a true ray of sunshine.
She was only two months old, but she was already laughing and giggling at everyone.
But she did look a lot like her father.
Her ears pointy as his, but she didn't have any wings on her ankles. She had your smile and nose, but his eyes. She was a spitting image of her father.
Which really gave you a big challenge.
You tried to hate Namor. Tried to resent him for sending you away and for tearing himself away from a child he didn't even know existed.
But you had to be strong for Fen and for yourself.
Shuri often invited you over to the palace. Just casually talking as she showed you her newest projects.
Much like today. 
Nakia took your baby from you so you could have a couple quiet moments.
You laughed along with Shuri when the door busted open. Okoye followed in two Talokan soldiers.
"As I said, she is busy!" Okoye yelled at the three men. 
"Princess. We wish to speak." said Namor.
You were frozen in your seat. The entire room went quiet as you refused to look at him.
"I'll take my leave." you quickly said before turning to run out and find Nakia and your daughter.
Even just being near him was extremely difficult.
You soon found your daughter as you took her into your arms and ran out of the palace. But of course, it wasn't that easy, because just as you were about to leave, Namor was standing in the doorway, still talking to Shuri but everyone noticed you.
You slightly tightened your grip around your daughter as you tried to work your way around the two soldiers. 
But of course, it was more difficult than it needed to be.
Your daughter was getting fussy as the man in front of you still didn't move.
"Let me leave." you begged in your native language, but the soldier didn't move.
"You are holding a true treasure," said Namor behind you. Thankfully, you were hiding her from the people around you, covering her ears.
"I'm only a traitor, let me leave." you asked once more but no one moved. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Namor approaching you from behind as she took a step closer to you, trying to see your baby.
You suddenly turned and looked into his eyes.
The same eyes your daughter had.
"Let me leave." you said once more before Namor nodded and the soldier moved, you rushed out.
"She married someone?" asked Namor from Shuri who refused to answer instead she turned and walked back to her lab.
But the thought didn't leave Namor.
You were the love of his life, yet you found someone else so quickly. He felt betrayed on a whole new level. 
And in his anger, which blinded him greatly, he went to your home. Ready to kill the man who dared to take you from him.
He swam up the river and easily found you, he could hear you sing softly as he approached the window. He was flying as he looked inside, hiding in the dark night, he watched you, your child on your shoulder, sleeping as you bounced her.
Then as you turned Namor saw her ears. The little ears which looked exactly like his.
And suddenly, it all made sense.
You put Fen to bed before returning to the living room, ready to clean up when you nearly jumped out of your skin as you noticed Namor standing by the opened balcony door.
"I never entered your waters! You have to leave!" you said but he didn't move.
You noticed how his eyes changed. His expression was completely different from the previous one. No more anger can be seen. 
"Why didn't you tell me I have a daughter?" you were taken aback. Did he see her before? Or did he come here for revenge and saw? 
Probably the latter, knowing him.
"You told me if I enter the water again, you would personally come to kill me. And you wouldn't hesitate."
"I thought you knew, I would never hurt you. I felt betrayed."
"How do you think I felt? One disagreement with you, and you sent me away. Declared me a traitor. I wasn't sure that I was pregnant. I didn't know back then. But I refused to give birth to a child into a burning world." he stayed quiet. "Please don't take her from me." you whispered, trying not to break down as you finally let fear enter you. 
He was powerful, more powerful than you, a God.
He could do anything he wanted.
Your statement seems to strike him.
"I could never. I thought you found someone else, and got over our centuries-old love so easily, I'm happy I was wrong. I thought... we tried so much... I thought we couldn't have children."
"I wasn't expecting it either. But when I showed signs... you were talking about a fight and war." when you sensed to anger in him, you also calmed. "Do you want to see her?" it didn't take him long to say yes.
You guided him to her room, in there she slept in her little crib.
"She is just like you, but she can go far longer than you without water."
"What's her name?"
"She was named after a very strong and kind woman. Her name is Fen." you watched as he reached out, running a finger down her face.
"After my mother... she is beautiful." 
"She is a very happy baby. Always smiling and giggling at people."
There was a couple minutes of silence when he just kept staring at her. 
"You need to return to Talokan. She needs to be with her people."
"No." he suddenly turned to look at you. "You sent me away, you said you don't want me anymore, that you don't love me anymore. I can't put her through the same."
"It was anger and fear talking not me. I never stopped loving you." 
"You say that now, but what happens when we have another disagreement?"
"Do you still love me?" he suddenly asked.
"I do. But I need to think of her as well. If you throw us out or me out... I wouldn't survive that." he moved to stand in front of you.
"I swear to you, on my own life on our people's lives on the secrecy of Talokan that this will never happen again. Ever." he could tell you were still unsure.
"I will stay here with her, you could come and visit. I want you to prove it to me, to us, you will need to gain my trust again." he nodded, understanding your decision. 
"I will come every day when I can." you nodded this time.
He spent a couple more minutes looking at her before he left.
You were so nervous, you decided to sleep with her in your bathtub. 
The fear of him taking her from you was too big.
---
As he promised, he arrived the next day, although you weren't in your home. He decided to wait.
He soon saw you return with your daughter in one hand, the other holding a bag of food. 
Fen was currently too occupied with your necklace to see the man.
"Let me get that for you." he said as he took the bag from your hand, his eyes never leaving his daughter. "She looks like you." he said as he followed you into the home.
"I think she looks more like you." You whispered as you began to prepare some lunch. 
"I can hold her if you want, so you can move around." he saw your grip tighten around Fen. "You think I would take her from you? You think of me as a monster who would separate a mother from their child?"
"You separated me from my home, my people and from my husband." your reply cut deep with him. But he couldn't deny the truth. "But you also know that I wouldn't stop at anything if you do take her from me."
"I won't take her from you. And I do know what you are capable of, yes." with that, you slowly lifted her off of your hip, she made a noise of confusion before she looked at the stranger to who she was handed to.
"Hello, My Little One. I'm your father, I'm sorry I wasn't here before." Fen was quiet, was too quiet, it was completely uncharacteristic of her. It did worry you but soon her attention drifted to Namor's necklaces. "She is much like you. You also adore my jewels," he smirked as he looked at you but you were too busy preparing lunch.
He knew that with these small steps, he will be able to get you back. And he will make sure to never make the same mistake again. 
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wint3r-h3art · 2 years ago
Text
Push & Pull | Namor
summary: He’s very good at pushing you, but you’re just as good at pulling him in and stringing him up. 
Word count: 4.3k (Sorry I really got carried away 🥲)
warnings: Established relationship, brain rotting smut. no plot at all. fingering, cunnilingus, face riding, vaginal sex & choking, sub!Namor
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
a\n: I’m very much hungover, but I pulled through and finished this. This is the No Power AU. Talokan is its own independent nation in this one. No beta as usual, so if I missed anything, I apologize. If you do like it, please please comment & reblog. It means a lot. Feedback just helps me create more works.
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**** Do not repost and claim it as your own, or copy, or plagiarize my work in any sort of form. 
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His eyes fixed on you from the moment you got out of the bathroom. Through the vanity mirror, you noticed the way those liquid ambers stared right through you. An underlying hunger simmered beneath the surface was almost palatable.
Heat slowly slithered up your neck and straight to your face. Your breath caught in your throat as your heartbeat surged. For that brief second, you knew what that look meant, yet you didn’t dare to acknowledge it, knowing full well that none of you would make it out of this hotel room tonight if you state the obvious.
You exhale for the first time as you slowly put on the pair of jade earrings he had gifted you on your birthday. It was obvious that your hands were trembling from the anticipation alone. Your gaze shifted to the mirror, watching him watch you as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. You just knew that kind of look. 
The thought excited you because right now it was all about the will–who would break first? It wouldn’t be long–it had never been long. Nine times out of ten were you. 
“Aren’t you going to dress?” you asked, turning slightly to give him a full view of your cleavage. 
The smooth silky dress left little to the imagination. Namor could see the way your nipples pressed against the thin fabric, and the sight made his cock twitch in his pants. His mouth watered at the thought of what it would feel like to have those small, perky buds in between his lips. 
You looked extra delectable tonight, and the thought of going out to the gala suddenly felt like a pain in the ass for him. He wanted nothing more than to have you begging and pleading for him instead of this diplomatic dinner that none of you wanted to be there. Surely his cousin, Namora can help him out of this little predicament.
“I don’t take long, in yakunaj,” he murmured almost too slowly that you could only pick out the word “in yakunaj”. “I prefer watching you getting ready instead.” 
The smirk almost gave it away. Oh yes, he loved to watch you dress alright. It was because there was something satisfying about the thought of fucking you out of it that made him giddier than a kid in the candy store.
“Do I want to know what you are thinking, Ku’ku’lkan?” Your hands were too busy trying to put on the pearl necklace, but of course to no avail.
He chuckled. You both knew the sort of game he was playing. He was trying to be coy with you, acting as if he wasn’t going to do anything about you. Oh, you definitely knew about his little game. A little push was all it takes before you completely surrender yourself to him–something about you willingly submitting to him just aroused him. 
You took his little chuckle as the answer to your question. He had no reason to hide his desire from you–why would he if you were more than willing to give in to him so easily?
“Here, let me help you,” he said softly–almost too calmly as he shifted underneath the comforter, trying to hide his raging hard-on from you. 
Your breath shuddered when you felt his warm fingertips brush against the nape of your neck. Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore as your back warmed by his presence. Every molecule in your body was aware of his proximity, and the need to be closer to him was stronger than ever. His magnetism was a danger on its own. 
And you loved every moment of it.
Your body stiffened at that instance as if you were trying to compose yourself, but that seemed to slowly fall apart the moment you felt his hand slip into the back of your gown and reached around to cup your breasts. Namor found your nipples and he tugged at them, twisting and stroking until the small nubs became erected. His large, calloused palms massaged and kneaded your soft mount slowly, taking his sweet time to relish the way they feel.
Your head fell back against his shoulder with a low, shaky moan.
“I always love the way they feel, do you know that?” he said almost lowly all you could feel was the reverberation that shot from your back. Your eyes fluttered as you watched him through the mirror. His desires finally reached a boiling point. You could feel his lust seeping through his very pore.  “I’m going to worship them, sucking on them until you come while my cock is buried deep inside you.”
Words failed you as his words slowly registered in your mind. You couldn’t help but whine in his arms, imagining the things he was going to do to you.
“You like that don’t you, the way your cunt gripped my cock so tightly that I could barely move?” He spoke as he rolled his hips. “Feel that. My cock gets really hard whenever I think about your pussy.”
“In rein….” you managed to utter out loud in between your gasps as you relished the way his clothed cock feels against the cleft of your ass cheeks. Hoping and wishing for more as your pussy clenched and unclenched at the emptiness. Your arousal practically leaked through the thin fabric of your pantie as he continued to ground his bulge on you. Your body felt like it was set ablaze as the image of him sinking deep within you was becoming more apparent.
Namor released you to tear the back of your gown open. A surprised gasp slipped past your lips at the way the cool air felt against your feverish skin.
“If you keep doing that, I won’t have anything else to wear,” you panted. 
The dress he just tore into shreds was one of your favorites, and he knew it too. Your tone betrayed you though. You loved this–you loved it when your lover was rough with you. Something about the way he let himself go and embraced his instinct. You wanted more. You needed more. You wouldn’t mind begging him either. He loved it. It fed his ego. Arching your back, your breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest. A shaky breath slipped out of you and stared up to meet his gaze. 
His need outweighed his patience. He caught you, and his mouth captured yours with a rough and demanding kiss that made your head spin. Desperation filled his vein as he settled you down on the large California king bed. He practically tore at his pants as he stared down at you. You tried to swallow, but your throat was bone dry as your eyes landed on cock.
“I’ll buy you many more, in yakunaj.” He said before pulling your thin, flimsy panties off of you with his teeth. His eyes trained on you as he was doing so.  “Now spread your legs for me.”
Biting your lips, you slowly spread your thighs apart, bearing all of yourself to him. You watched the way his gaze darkened. Namor licked his lips as he joined you on the bed, pinning your hips down, his gaze now on your glistening cunt. You swore those minutes felt like ages as you struggled below him, wishing for him to do something with his mouth or with his cock.
His thumb pressed against your swollen bud, rubbing in a slow circle. He glanced down at you, his eyes were like liquid gold beneath the amber light. You could see the way Adam’s apple bobbled by the way he was trying to soothe the ache of his dry throat. There was nothing more magnificent than you are now, laying here, all spread out. Wet and ready for him.
Namor slowly stroked your pussy lips between his fingers, squeezing it slightly till your slippery juice leaked out between the folds to coat his digits. It was hard to not moan when he was toying with you like this.
“Darling…” you said again, your lids fluttering as you tried to look at him through the haze of this lust of yours.
“...Hmmm?” He asked, looking at your face as he dipped two fingers inside you. A groan rippled in his throat as he began to pump in and out of you. “This pussy of yours…I swear is going to be the death of me.”
Your body jolted at the welcoming intrusion. You slowly rocked yourself onto his fingers, and his lips pulled back into a grin as he slowly stroked himself with his other hand. 
You watched him through bleary eyes. Your mouth hung agape as you watched the way his large hand slowly glided along his hard shaft. Beads of his precum glistened underneath the dim light,  leaking out of the slit of the fat, bulbous head of his cock, and it made your mouth water.  
“Hmm, look at you getting off on my fingers…hmmm. It feels good, doesn’t it?” 
You nodded as you rocked faster onto him, wishing for more.
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come for me.”
Your fingers slid down to your slicked cunt, circling and rubbing at your body until you moaned heatedly. It felt so good, but it wasn’t as good as having your husband touching you instead. You closed your eyes and imagined the way his rough fingertips worked you instead. You wanted to feel his mouth on your clit, sucking on it and licking at it as his cock was deep inside you.
Namor’s lips pulled back into a satisfying smile as he watched you slowly work yourself up. You were practically panted now as he continued to pump his fingers all the way to his knuckle, making the wet squelching sound even more apparent. Your slick was practically coating his hand the more he worked on you.
You on the other hand were slowly unraveling right before his very eyes as your fingers moved more firmly now on your clit. A moan worked its way from your dry throat as the warm desirous heat swelled within you. 
His name fell from your lips tremulously as he could feel your wall begin to flutter around his thick digits. You would have been shied and hid your face if it wasn’t for how eager you were for your release. The need that pulsed through your vein was scorching hot, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it burn your entire being. 
You came with a shout as your thighs clenched almost too hard around him. Namor could feel your release coating his hand as he slowed his movement. He watched as your body convulsed before him as you tried to ride out your orgasm.
Breathing hard, you stared up to meet his gaze. His lips were on yours again with a hot and demanding kiss that left you weak and breathless. His thick, masculine body lay between your legs as he kept all of his weight on his knees. His erection pressed against the center of your body. Every inch of you felt like it was being burned from the imprint of his touches alone, and he had barely done anything more than fucking you on his fingers. It was almost madness how much your body reacted to his touch alone.
Gone was the control by the way you wrapped your legs around his thick and muscular waist as you returned his kiss with a full force of your own. Your boldness surprised him, yet intrigue him, and his desire to have you take over this little dance was becoming apparent.
“I want to be on top,” you murmured as you struggled to pull back from his kiss. Your lover’s eyes seemed to glint underneath the dim light. You could see the small smirk that was etched at the corner of his perfect visage. You could feel his cock twitch in between your legs as well. Perhaps the prospect of you being on top turned him on, or perhaps it was your tone–so bold and so determined. It thrilled him and excited him.
Without a single word of protest, he rolled over, bringing you on top of him. Namor stared at you. His large palm grazed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He could feel the way your heart beat almost frantically against your chest. Your nerve may be fraying, but he damn knew the kind of depravity awaited him.
You stared down at him with a smirk of your own before you leaned in and kissed him, tracing the outline of his perfect lips with your tongue. He didn’t have to ask because you were as eager as him. 
This week has been as stressful for him as it was for you. Everyone wants a piece of him one way or another. A diplomatic lunch to dinner to the fucking gala that you knew he didn’t want to attend. Even with you here with him, he barely spent time with you as his kingly duty demanded his attention more so than ever. His every move was being watched and criticized. Just like when Wakanda made itself known to the world, the nation of Talokan had been thriving in secret from foreign invasion for centuries. The nation had just recently made itself known for its existence to the world. Because of this, he had been asked to come here for a little talk–which you might have guessed was for the purpose of trading or sharing the resources. Knowing how unyielding your husband could be. The gala was merely a disguise in their attempt at negotiation.
He tasted so decadence–of chocolate and coffee as your tongue slid and grazed over him. Your hand gripped his hair, holding him to you as your mouth devoured him. It was all lips and tongue and a pure carnal desire that permeated your blood. Your response only urged him closer to kiss you deeper until both of you were panting and breathless.
His arms went around you. His blunt nails dug and scrapped along your back as you arched into him, pressing your sensitive nipples into his hard chest. You could feel his muscles corded and strained beneath your pussy by the way he tried to control himself from doing anything more. 
“Tell me what you want, in reina?” he asked as you pulled back to stare into his warm brown eyes. Devotion filled his gaze as he looked up to meet yours. This was him trying his best to give control to you.
“I think retribution is much needed–especially, after the stunt you pulled on my dress earlier.”
Namor bit his lips to hide his little smile as he tried to compose his expression.
“And what kind of retribution are you asking?”
“I think…you’re talking far too much, in yakunaj. It’s time for you to put that mouth of yours into good use, don’t you think so?”
A noise emitted from his throat as he knew what you meant. Namor helped you up until you were kneeling astride his head, giving quite a view of your drenching pussy. His hand immediately trailed down to his shaft as he slowly stroked it to ease the ache. 
“Not yet, darling,” you gripped his hand, halting from whatever of his movement. “Make me come first, and perhaps I’ll consider letting you use my mouth.”
He smirked and let go of his shaft altogether as his hands were now gripping your ass cheek. You could feel him trying his best to not knead at your supple flesh as he stared up to meet your gaze. An undeniable hunger simmered beneath those liquid ambers.
Without a word you slowly sank yourself down onto his mouth. A yelp left your lips at the way his tongue greeted your slicked heat, plunging into your drenching pussy with shallow penetration. His tongue rasped through the slit from bottom to top. The rough, coarse hair of his beard scratched and burned your sensitive skin in the most delicious burn. Your hand flew straight to his har, bunching in tightly in your hand while he was clasping your thighs and holding you there.
His moan reverberated right through your clit, making the small bud throb and ache. There was an intent in the way he was eating your cunt. He walked a fine line in the way he was worshiping you and using you to state his own desires at the same time. Every lick and every flicker of his tongue was meant to show his devotion to please you, yet at the same time, he was sating his own desires that felt endless.
Obscene sounds filled the room, yet none of you seemed to care or noticed. Your hips rolled, and every now and then the tip of his nose would brush against your clit, sending your nerve into a frenzy. Your husband was being a menace at the way he was slurping and moaning so loudly that you would have been mortified by the sound alone if you were sane. The thing was, you weren’t. You were as gone as he was.
Heat curled at the pit of your stomach as jolts of pleasure began to build until you felt like you couldn’t take anymore. The warmth of his mouth and the moist heat of his tongue were killing you slowly as your pleasure continued to build. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest as you were trying to keep up with your arousal. Your wall began to flutter around his tongue the more you ground yourself on his mouth, and eventually, like a tidal wave crashed against the rock, you came hard with a strangled noise as your body convulsed and strained above him. Your thighs clenched almost too tightly around him that it would have choked a normal man out, but not him–not your husband. 
Namor loved this sort of reaction, and he loved that he could give you such a mindblowing release with just his tongue. It was certainly something for his ego there. He only encouraged further as his grip locked down on you tight, pulling you until you covered him with nothing but your essence. His tongue continued to lap at your release, drinking you up until the last drop.
Your legs shook slightly as your body was still sensitive to his touches. Reluctantly you pulled back to sit on his chest and stared down at him. A visible, shit-eating grin was more than visible on his face. This was not a punishment to him–oh no, he was enjoying this a bit much, you thought.
“Do I want to know what you are thinking right now, in rein?”
“No. I just love the way you taste, darling,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his fingers before putting those same fingers into his mouth. The sight made you quiver. Your pussy barely recovered from the mind-blowing orgasm he had just pulled out of you. How in the world are you going to get this man to beg for you?
“Truly?” You asked as you lazily stroked his erection, watching him trying to stop whatever noise from leaving those lips of his. His precum leaked out of the slit and slowly rolled down the shaft and onto your hand. His eyes fluttered shut as his mouth parted, relishing the way the warm flood of pleasure worked through him.
No word came out of him as he struggled to maintain his sanity. His hand gripped the sheet beneath as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 
“Tell me what you want, my darling,” you said softly as your hand continued to work his thick cock. He was so heavy, and warm in your palm. He was more than ready. “Beg me to ride you.”
His lips pressed into a thin line as his body arched off the bed briefly. You could feel him shudder beneath you, and you know he was at the breaking point. Just a little more push and he would break, you smirked.
“Don’t be stubborn now, my sweet husband. Surely, you want this as much as I do,” you tease as you slowly knelt astride his body. Slowly you sank down until you were hovering over his cock. You slowly moved up and down, coating his shaft with your moist, slicked heat, but you made no effort to put him inside you.
“Feel how wet I am for you, darling?” you teased as you leaned forward. Your hand was holding onto his broad chest as you rutted yourself on top of him.
And then you hear it, the low rumble of his voice reverberating from his chest. It was so low that you couldn’t make it out the first time around.
“What is it, in rein?”
Gritted his teeth, he spoke. “Please, fuck me.” His eyes glossed over. His hands grasp at the soft skin of your hips. Desperation filled his voice as he looked up to meet your gaze.
“Now that isn’t as bad is it?” you smirked as you grasped his length and lined the fat head of his cock against your entrance.
His breath hitched in his throat as you slowly sank onto his length, slowly inching down. You both moaned in unison at the way he stretched out your tight hole. Namor fought his breath for control. You were so tight and hot around his cock. Your muscles gripped him tightly in your warm, slicked heat. His mind scrambled for control of his own body, but it felt like his rationality was gone.
His large palm slid down your ass as you slid up and down his thick cock. You were so full and oh so stretched out. You could feel every ridge and every vein that ran underneath his shaft. Your brain filled with nothing except for the thought of being so stuffed up by his cock. His warmness and his hardness took your breath away whenever you sank all the way down until your ass hit his thighs.
“You feel so good, in reina,” he groaned, hands squeezing at your hips every time you sank down a little harder than before.
Your hand mindlessly roamed his broad chest, hand squeezing at his pectoral occasionally before it landed on his shoulder. 
“Wrap your hand around my neck…” he mumbles. 
“What?” You stopped your movement altogether as you stared down at your husband.
“Please put your hand around my neck and slowly squeeze it as you fuck me,” he spoke again as he slowly lifted your hips up and began to pound into you from below. 
Staring deep into his eyes, your hand slowly wrapped around his thick neck firmly, but not too tightly. You could feel him swallowing as he continued to piston his hip upward to meet your heat. You groaned as the pleasure clouded your mind once more. You did as he had asked, and you have never seen him lose himself this way before.
His mouth hung agape as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His movement faltered as you took over to ride him hard, bouncing on his cock as if your life depended on it.
You have heard him moan before, but not like this. There was a raw edge to it that made your pussy throb and ached more than before. It didn’t take long of course as he came inside you, dumping his load until it started to leak out of you as you continued to fuck him.
He was practically heaving at this point as you slowed your movement. His eyes were bleary, dazed and so spent as he lay there. His soft curls were disheveled as he brought his hand to his lips, trying to bite the knuckle as he bathed in the afterglow of his release.
You were still on top of him, but you were no longer moving. You were as breathless as he was as you sat there with his now soft cock inside of you. The aftermath was messy, but you didn’t care. You knew it always ended with one of you covered in a mess.
And for once, you were thankful it was your husband.
“Remind me to choke you next time…” you said in between your heavy breathing. “I’ve never seen you this worked up before….”
Namor chuckled beneath you as heat flooded his face. “If my queen wants to be on top more often, who am I to protest such a request?”
You rolled your eyes as you tried to hide the smile. Oh, now he’s in a good mood. 
“Hmm, perhaps we can start by getting ready for that gala that is thrown in your honor?”
Your husband grumbled as he rolled to his side, bringing you with him as well. “Perhaps in a bit.”
“We are going to be late,” you protested, slapping his chest, but to no avail. Namor felt like he needed a nap, so he was going to get that nap of his.
“Tell them we operate on our time…the Talokanil time. They won’t know what that is.”
You could feel his shit-eating grin by the way he was mumbled in your chest. He was in that mood, and you just couldn’t do anything about it…even if you are his queen.
“If Namora decided to yell at you, I will not stop her…”
Your husband looked up from your chest. “15 minutes…that is all I ask.”
You sighed. “Fine. 15 minutes. I’m setting the timer now.”
Your husband let out a groan as he pulled you closer to him. “Fine.”
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a/n: some translation from the fic.
in yakunaj: my love, my darling, my dearest
in rein: my king
in reina: my queen
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stuckybarton · 2 years ago
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Sirens Call
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Summary: You were just a marine scientist, but with the recent urge of the US Government to locate more Vibranium, you would have never thought that it would spell the unexpected change in your life. Character: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Siren!Female Reader. Word Count: 6,408 (jesus christ was this long) Chapter Warnings: Black Panther Wakanda Forever Spoilers. Mention of Kidnapping, Death, Bloodshed, drowning. Possible Stockhold Syndrom. Angst. Sort of Happy Ever After. A/N: A request from @kpopgirlbtssvt, sorry for the delay. I did tweak a little on your request since i didn't want it to be too similar to the series i'm writing but i do hope you enjoy.
Also, the song included in this story is a Filipino Lullabye
Masterlist || Join the Library ( i no longer do taglist you can just turn on notif here)
Sirens Call
It has been over a year now since you have turned your life around. With the death of Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff, you had no one you could truly depend on to protect you from the government coming for you. Without Steve, and with the desolation of the Avengers, of the family you have created with them, your life of running had ended with finally agreeing to the Government's terms whether you liked it or not.
You stood on the deck of the large boat, the wind blowing through your hair and the salty smell of the ocean filling your lungs. You were a Marine Scientist before your involvement with the Avengers, now you were working for the CIA, and the current objective was to locate Vibranium that is said to be located deep beneath the oceans floors.
You had knew about the abundance of the metal in Wakanda, the durability and power it had when making weapons, Steve Rogers’ shield was an evident example of it. So it was no surprise to anyone, even for you at this point that it was an immense interest to the government. They had ignored Queen Ramonda’s warning of staying away from Wakanda to search for the metal, instead doing the exact opposite to help even out the odds against their own feud with the people of Wakanda. Fight fire with fire if you will. But you were hesitant about this mission. You were now only a scientist, no longer a hero nor were you a solider, and the thought of being one of the individuals responsible for creating a possible weapon of mass destruction made you uneasy.
As the boat bobbed up and down in the rough waves, you can’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. It felt off. It’s was almost as if the ocean was singing, the gentle breeze of the night winds was calling you out, beckoning you to come closer. You shook your head, chalking it up to exhaustion. You have been working countless of days and even week for this mission, your team’s safety had been your top priority instead of that stupid metal, and your mind was simply playing tricks on you.
“You alright, Doc?” It was Daniel, one of the dozen of agents the CIA had given as your “protection” during this mission, but you knew for a fact that man like him wouldn’t even bother to save you from drowning if he was given a chance. You’ve met men like him in your lifetime and you wouldn’t trust him with your life because of it.
“Nothing that needs your concern, Agent.” You brushed him off, taking another healthy sip of your tea, your eyes had lingered onto the waters. It has been well over ten minutes now since two members of the team have been deployed to submerge from the waters to locate the Vibranium.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, the water is find and that suit is practically impenetrable.” He scoffed only for you to ignore as you continued watching the line wires that held onto the suits move further and further down. “This should be the least of your concern knowing what will happen if we find nothing.”
“If any of them are hurt or killed, you know what would happen.”  You threatened him right back.
You had made a deal with the devil for your own freedom from the Government. What they had over you and your secret that you wished to put your grave would be buried along with the fallout that you were certain would come one way or another. God only knows what Wakanda would do to you when the truth comes out about your involvement. Your head would be in a silver platter for all you know. It was only a matter on whose table it would lay upon at the end of the day.
“You worry too much, Doc.” He scoffed before leaving you all on your own—peace that you truly needed at this point in time.
But as the night wears on and they have descended deeper into the ocean, the feeling grows stronger. Even as you had headed into the control room to check how they were doing in the water, there was something that was keeping you uneasy.
You can hear a faint humming sound, almost like a song. It was in the same moment you heard the panic from the communications and everyone was scrambling to and fro inside the boat and you were left stock still from where you stood, even as you tried to locate the two members in the waters. You were informed that it was the Wakandans that had attacked.
Your team has been hard at work, scanning the ocean floor with the suits. But as you approach the coordinate where the Vibranium is believed to be located, something had fucked everything you worked so hard for. The suit and the members were gone, your vision of them had gone black. You and what was left of the escorts were scrambling to figure out what was happening.
You tried rebooting the system hoping it was a glitch, but to no avail. It’s as if something is interfering with the signals. Your heart begins to race. Is this some kind of attack? Have you been discovered by Wakanda’s forces?
And then, without warning, the hum that sounded grew louder, almost blaring through. You had watch some begin to put on earplugs but there was something that kept you from doing such a thing even when they were in your pockets as a precautionary measures—old tale’s don’t die it seems when it comes to the unknown of the waters.
It was a sound that you have never heard before, it had your heart racing, palms sweating and from the looks of everyone else that acted far too late, glazed over as they walked closer into the water in a trance. Had it not have been for the gunshot that echoed, the spell would have remained and there would have been more bloodshed that you would not even be able to imagine.
“Move!” Someone had screamed at you and before you could realize what was going on a bulking man had risen from the waters and you were left frozen at the sight of the man as his spear had penetrated into your escort, Daniel right to the wall besides you.
The man was no Wakandan. He had blue skin, some type of breathing apparatus, and the daunting sight of his headgear made out of a hammerhead shark’s skull. The man over towered over you as he took a step towards you, but your adrenaline has finally kicked in and you find yourself making a mad dash back into the control room, hoping to find anything that could help you in the situation.
It was only in this moment that you had put on the earplugs, deafening the sounds of death up above. You tried to find a gun, a knife, anything that could miraculously keep you alive at this point. Left empty handed, you found a small cabinet right under the control panel. Shoving all of its content all over the floor in hopes of messing with their trail of you before you cramped right in, shutting yourself in complete darkness of the cabinet.
In the deafness of the earplugs, you could hear your heart racing and your breathing shallow. You can feel the vibration of footsteps approaching, getting more and more prominent. You know that the attackers were getting closer and closer to finding you.
Your mind raced as you try to come up with a plan instead of just hiding. You know that if you are found, you are dead. You try to remember your training, but your mind was a jumbled mess and everything was well forgotten in the face of the reality of the danger. You can’t think straight, and your hands were shaking with fear.
As the footsteps draw neared, you slowly find yourself removing the earplugs to the sound of voices. You strain to listen, trying to make out what they were saying, but the language was not like you had ever heard before in your life. It was garbled and indistinct, and you couldn’t tell from where you hid just how many people were there.
You close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. You know that you have to be brave, that you have to stay calm and think rationally if you're going to survive. But as the sound of the footsteps grows louder, your resolve begins to crumble. You're so scared that you can hardly think straight. You feel like you're going to die.
And then, suddenly, you hear the sound of the door opening. You hold your breath, praying that you won't be found. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you're sure that they can hear it too. But as the seconds tick by, nothing happens. You're still hidden in the cabinet, and your attackers haven't found you. You begin to relax, thinking that maybe you're safe after all.
But as you felt the sound of the monitors being broken from above you, you felt all the reassurance turn into nothing but panic and dread.
Your life flashes before your eyes. You think of your family, of your mother that you have never talked to since you had pulled away from her and her people growing up, your friends that have accepted you for who you were, the people you have loved and cherish, the members of your team that had risked their lives for this excavation—all for nothing. You wondered if you would ever see any of them again. The profound sense of sadness and regret, knowing that there was still so many things you have not done, places you have never been able to see, to have the family you have never thought you would deserve to have.
It was the first line of sobs that escaped your lips that caught their attention and the cabinet was torn off the hinges and you were in front of them all. Pulled by the arm by one of them, you were scrambling to pull away from their hold but the spear that was now pointed at you, you were left standing still.
There were five of them, the man from earlier was also here, but it was not him that had your attention—it was the man with the normal skin.
You stand in front of the man, looking him in the eye. You can sense his fury, the anger boiling just beneath the surface. His face is twisted in a scowl, his eyes flashing with an intensity that makes your heart race. You can feel the tension in the air, the electricity that seems to crackle between you.
But as he gets closer, you start to feel a little bit of fear creeping in. You can see the veins bulging in his neck, his breathing becoming ragged and uneven.
In the closer proximity, you took a look at him from head to toe to realize that he wasn’t normal either. Sans the blue skin, he had pointed ears and the physics-impossible wings where his Achilles’ heels should have been.
“Who created the machine?” The man spoke, accent-heavy. His voice deep and daunting, you can feel the heat of his anger, the rage that seems to be directed at you.
You were left frozen at his question.
“All I know is her name is Riri William.” You spoke honestly. When you had learned that the government had a mobile drone that would help in the location of Vibranium, you did not asked too much question knowing what it entails in the future.
The spear you didn’t realize was in his grasp was now pointed directly at you, the sharp blade of it resting on the base of your neck. One wrong move from you and you could slice your throat open. The tears begin to fall freely from your eyes, pleading for him to spare you. Pleading for him that this was all the information that you knew.
As the spear was finally held down, you felt your knees turn jelly realizing you were still alive and he had spared you—for now.
“If I find out you are lying, I will feed you to the sharks.” He warned.
You shook your head.
“I promise you, on my mother’s name. That is all I know. I’m just here as a scientist helping them finding Vibranium, nothing more.”
The man turned to the hulking man, speaking in a language that you didn’t know before the man had approached you and pulling off his breathing apparatus for you.
“What are you doing?” You questioned moving your head away from him.
“You are coming with me back to Talokan. I cannot trust you to keep my people’s existence as a secret.”
Accepting the breathing apparatus, you were lifted onto the man’s shoulder and the adrenaline was slowly dying down at the foreign device covering on your face and your world begins to fade into the dark abyss.
~
The throne room was quiet, save for the argument that was exchanged between K’uk’ulkan and his cousin and most trusted General, Namora. He was pacing back and forth, while Namora stood stoically, arms crossed in front of her. It was one thing to watch his cousin and Attuma butt heads from time to time and see Namora come out victorious, it was another to have himself be in the middle of it all, more so for his action that led to this argument to begin with.
"I cannot believe you would bring an outsider into our hidden kingdom, K'uk'ulkan," Namora said sternly. "We have always kept our existence a secret, and now you want to invite this woman into our midst?"
He stopped pacing and turned to face Namora.
“She is not just an outsider. She is a scientist from the surface world, she possesses the knowledge that could help us in finding out who we are up against.”
A part of him did wonder why he did what he did. He could have killed you then and there and be done with it. But how you spoke, to your mother’s grave, it was the truth and he trusted a surface dweller so easily because of it. It was pathetic to see you in hiding, in the confinements of a small cabinet, with just the sob that escaped your lips that gave your location away.
He took you in to his nation, knowing he could find a much better use for you for the time being, at least, that was what he kept telling himself and reassuring Namora too in the process.
Namora's expression remained unchanged. "And what if she reveals our existence to the surface world? What if she leads them here, endangering us and our way of life?"
He sighed heavily. “I have thought about that, my child.” He cupped her cheeks hoping to give her the reassurance that she would need in this moment. “But I have also considered the potential benefits that could come from her here in our Kingdom for the foreseeable future.”
“You are willing to risk everything we have worked for, just for a potential benefit? Is it worth it?” Namora questioned pulling away, with her eyes narrowed at him.
“For our people, for their safety, it will be worth it, My child. With her here, our people will be hidden and protected.”
Namora remained silent, considering his words.
“It’s on you. But we must keep a close eye on the surface dweller. We are not to trust her, not until we know if she is safe for our people.”
“I understand, Namora.” He nodded in agreement. “I will take full responsibility for her while she is here. And if she proves to be more of a liability, we will deal with her accordingly.”
Namora’s expression softened slightly.
"Very well. But if anything goes wrong, it will be on your head."
K'uk'ulkan nodded once more. "I understand."
With that, Namora turned and left the throne room, leaving K'uk'ulkan alone to contemplate the potential risks and rewards of his decision.
~
Slowly opening your eyes, feeling disoriented as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. You remember being on the boat, the attack that killed almost certainly everyone in the team, to the memories of your life flashing before your eyes in the confinements of the cabinet. But now, you were in a strange chambers inside of a cavern, surrounded by walls of rocks and water.
Sitting up, you noticed the figure standing in front of you. The same man at the boat. The man stood now with robes on instead of just the green shorts and there was a lack of the spear much to your relief. He sees you finally wake up and turns to face you.
“Welcome,” he says, the same daunting voice from the boat but no longer did it held the anger from that night. “I am K’uk’ulkan, King of Talokan.”
You looked at him confused. Talokan? In your years of working for the Avengers and eventually the CIA, learning about all different kinds of aliens and otherworldly beings, both in the surface and in the water, this was the first time you had ever heard about Talokan. Not even from your own family’s history have you heard of beings just like him.
It was as if he could sense your confusion and fear as he held his hands up in reassurance.
“You are in my chambers.” He explains. “You are safe here, Surface dweller, I have spared you in hopes of learning what your people want with the Vibranium in our kingdom.”
You start to feel a sense of uneasiness. What if you told him the truth, of what the government wanted with the Vibranium, would you finally be killed?
“Do not be afraid.” He continues walking closer to you now, his hand placed on your shoulders. “You are safe here, I have brought you alive for a reason and you have my word that you will not be placed in any harm throughout your stay under my jurisdiction.”
As you start to look around the chamber, you notice something strange. The walls are covered in murals, painted in bright colors. They depict scenes of ancient rituals and ceremonies, with strange symbols and images that you can't quite decipher.
He seemed to have noticed your interest.
“Murals of Talokan,” He explains gesturing to the walls. “They tell the story of my people, of our history, and of our beliefs.”
You start to feel a sense of awe, looking at the intricate designs and patterns. You’ve never seen anything like this before in your life. He moves to the wall, taking a brush and paint from a nearby table. As he starts to paint, you watch in amazement. The colors seem to come to life, swirling and dancing before your eyes.
As he paints, K'uk'ulkan begins to speak. He tells you of the ancient gods, of their power and their wisdom. He tells you of the secrets of the Talokan, and of his origins, of why he was different from the rest of his people. He was mutant, the first born son of Talokan.
“Why am I here then?” You questioned, as much as you now grow interested in his stories, you were more concern of what was needed from you in this moment. “I don’t fit into any narrative in your stories or your people?”
“You know too much, and it is best for you to remain here for the time being while we handle the person responsible for creating the machine.”
“How long?” You questioned.
“For a while.” He spoke nonchalantly. “For the meantime, you can visit Talokan with me or you can spend your days here in the chambers, it is up to you.”
You blinked seemingly having no choice in the matter at this point.
~
It was not what he intended to happen, all he wanted was for Talokan to remain a secret from the surface world. Never did he even think that a glimpse of you and the wonder in your eyes through the water suit did he think he could ever fall in love, with a surface dweller of all people, but here he was.
It had been days now since your arrival, days since your time has been spent in his chambers and in Talokan. How you had made use of your expertise in the waters for their benefit. Fishes and other marine creatures that even the oldest of their scholars did not know of their use was now being integrated into their daily lives.
Y/N.
He had learned so much about you in your stay in his home. How you found yourself making use of your love for the water into your studies to be what you were now. How from so much trials and tribulation in your life, have ended up under the government’s jurisdiction and in your expedition for Vibranium would have been the last part of your agreement with them. Who would have ever thought that someone as shell shock as you would have been a siren in hiding all this time?
He fell in love with you for your love for the water. How the simplest of gifts he would give you would send the biggest and brightest smile on your face. He fell in love with your intention to do better for the world even with everyone against you. He had fallen so madly in love with how easy it had been for his children to open up to you—even Namora that has been far too apprehensive with your stay in Talokan in the beginning.
“Sing me a song, In Sirena?” He asked, his head rested on your lap, your fingers combing through his hair.
In the silence of his bed chambers, he had opened himself to you, about his mother, of the promise he had kept of burying her in their home in the surface world, of the name that was never his own by took to inflict fear to those who were a threat to his people.
He closed his eyes and felt the comfort that came with your touch and of your voice that echoed through his chambers. How your hauntingly beautiful voice placed him at ease, something he was not given as often in his life. He was at peace.
He felt the smile slowly form on his lips as you continued on with your song that was now becoming all too familiar to him. It was a lullaby, one that your own mother had sung to you as a young child, it brought back memories of his own mother, of the love that only she could give you even with the responsibility that rested on his shoulders—he felt like a child all over again.
“When this is all over, if I let you go, will you ever come back for me?” He found himself asking, slowly opening his eyes to look up at you.
You had halted in your song to look right back at him, eyes softening at his question.
“I don’t know,” You answered honestly.
Another thing he had appreciated about you was your honesty, no matter if it would offend him or anyone else, you held honesty that was few and far in between for a surface dweller. He understood your answer, though he was sadden by the reality of it—you were still a captive of his domain, stuck in the crossfire of his mission to protect his people. But he longed for the day that you would stay, even for just his people.
“I understand.”
“I have people that depend on me in the surface. I’ve already lost some of the people I’ve treated like my family—I want to make sure that I explained what had happened to their families.”
He looked away, knowing the weight of his action had on you now. Of the deaths that was to be expected for the protection of his own people.
Their little moment was interrupted at the sight of Attuma arriving.
“What?” He inquired, not leaving his positon on your lap much to your own discomfort and embarrassment.
“The Princess and the scientist are here.” Attuma announced and it was the sign he needed that his moment with you was now over.
~
At the news of someone else from the surface now being held under hostage of Talokan, you had asked K’uk’ulkan about seeing them. No matter how much you were slowly understanding the man’s need to protect his people a part of you still wanted to see and check upon those that are for certain scared of being here.
“Dr. Y/L/N?”
The last thing you would have expected to see was Princess Shuri and Riri Williams here. But then again, it was Vibranium that Talokan was protecting, and having them here was becoming more understandable than anything else.
“Are you two okay?” You asked, checking them from head to toe for any sort of injuries.
“You were reported dead.” It was Shuri that had spoken and your heart fell. But realized that after everything, at the death of your team and escorts, it would have bound to happen that without your body recovered, they would have expected as much.
“They have taken me here to keep quiet.” You answered. You worry that if you said too much it would end with your hurt or worst the women in front of you would.
The guilt was now washing over your system at the realization of your admittance of Riri being responsible for the machine had now led to her here—bringing Shuri along in the process.
“We have to find a way out.” You whispered holding onto their hands, you know it would take some work to find the suits they have used but it was better than whatever they might have planned for them—or for you at the matter.
“No.” Shuri shook her head.
You shook your head. It was not the right thing to do for her. Unlike you, that now had everyone believing you were dead and for certain would face prosecution if the Government found out you were alive, Shuri had so much to live for, someone to that loved her, and everything else in her life that you know for certain that you did not have anymore.
“He wants to go to war with the surface world, and asked me to help him.”
You blinked realizing then and there the reality of the man and his intentions. One of the servants remained, providing food for the three of you and you had hoped that she did not understand anything that you were talking about in this moment. Your eyes lingered to the guards also station around to watch over you and over the two.
“Princess, please.” You held onto her hand, hoping to talk some sense to her even in this very moment. “The world has done all of us wrong, but this is not the right thing to do.” You plead for her, turning your attention towards Riri that was still shaken by everything that was happening.
“Then why did you remain when you could easily have escaped?” Shuri questioned.
Your eyes closed at the reality of her words, how easily you could have escaped because of your powers but chose not to do so. In the moment you did not have a reason to leave, for you genuinely fell in love with Talokan even with the circumstance of it all.
You fell in love. How stupid it was for you to do so, falling in love with your captor but you did. You see your family in this people. How your own was cast to the waters by the very same people that had once cast K’uk’ulkan’s people into the waters. He was just like you, just as much as you were just like him.
“I’ve lost everything, Princess.” You whispered. “I’ve got to no Tony or Nat to back me up anymore, the government is wringing me dry for all that I have until they have the better reason to finally lock me away and experiment on me. He gave me an opportunity to live here and I might just stay because of it.”
In the struggle of it all, you once had Tony and Nat to depend on in your life, but with everything that had happened during the snap and their death to save the entirety of the universe, life has never been the same for you and you linger in the chaos of the life you tried to rebuild for yourself in the process.
Your eyes lingered behind and the sight of Nakia had caught you off guard.
Before you could even act, Nakia had shot the guards on stand by and the servant had now held a knife against Shuri. It was chaos and you did not know who to save in this moment. You held your hands up towards Nakia and pleaded for the servant to let her go, the sight of her hesitation was all you need to know that she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Please. It doesn’t have to end like this.” You plead to Nakia. “They will let Shuri go, and you can escape safely. Please.”
Nakia held a blank look before talking to Shuri and before long shooting the servant without hesitation. You were quick in your steps, dashing towards the servant as you held onto the wound and your eyes turned towards Shuri and Nakia.
“You need to come with us, Wakanda can protect you. It is the least we can do for all the help you’ve given us in the past.”
You wanted to, but as the servant had held onto you as she fought for her life, it had you second guessing yourself. If it was worth the risk coming back, with not only the Government coming after you but now even Talokan that has shown her nothing but kindness since your arrival.
“You’ve waged the war…all he wanted was to protect his people.” You shook your head refusing to come with them.
You had watched them leave, in the emptiness of the caverns that they stayed in, you found the tears have slowly fallen as you begin to sing the servant a song, hoping to be there for her in her dying moments.
‘Ili-ili tulog anay Wala diri imong nanay Kadto tienda Bakal Papay Ili-ili tulog anay Mata kana tabang mo Ikarga ang Nakompra ko Kay Bug-at Man Sing Putos ko Tabang Mo Ako Anay Ili-ili Tulog Anay Walang diri Imong Nanay Kadto tienda Bakal Papay Ili-ili tulog anay’
“In Sirena?”
The sight of K’uk’ulkan approaching brought all the guilt to the surface as your eyes turned back to the servant girl, how she was begging for her king to save her even when it was far too late for her.
“I tried to stop them.” You whispered closing the servant girl’s eyes as she now laid lifeless in your arms. “I tried to make them go without hurting anyone else in the process.”
You turned to the sight of Namora walking behind at the scene of death at the hands of Wakanda. You did not have the heart to look her in the eyes now, after all the help she had given you in your stay in Talokan—this was the price that you paid. It was better off if you were dead just like the rest of them.
You sobbed as the cousins begin to converse in their language. It was all your fault, from the moment you had accepted the mission to seek Vibranium from under the waters, you have left nothing but death and failure in your midst and now even in Talokan, the same curse has come to present you.
Even as K’uk’ulkan has pulled you away from the servant girl to allow her to be buried, you sobbed over and over even as you were pulled into his chest.
“Why did you stay?” He questioned you, his hand cupped your cheeks wiping what remains of the tears on your cheeks. “You could have left with them.”
“I can’t.” You confessed. “Not like this, not if it means someone dying in the process.”
“Then join us, in our fight.”
“I can’t. Revenge is never the answer.”
~
It was a week now since the attack in the cavern, you have decided to remain in K’uk’ulkan’s chambers for the entirety of it. But you have never talked to the man after what he had done as retribution for Nakia’s attack. The Queen of Wakanda was dead—drowned, and the invasion of Wakanda had set off more conflict than anything you would have ever imagine from them.
“In Sirena,”
You turned, the frown rested heavily on your lips in the moment but you said nothing even as the man approaching you, standing right in front of you from where you sat in the bed. You know why he was hear, it has been a week as the agreement and at any time a war is about to break through and you could only fear the damage and death it would cause in their paths.
“I want you to join me in this fight. After everything with Wakanda is resolved, I want you to be my Queen.”
You closed your eyes, it was not how you would have wanted to stay, not in this circumstance.
“Revenger and retribution is not the answer. It will only cause death and pain for everyone involved.”
“Then please stay here in Talokan, with me, with my people. Live with us and flourish and grow to be what you were always meant to be.”
And just like every instances that he asks you the question, you shook your head. In a perfect world, when things have not been filled with bloodshed, you would have. But in this instance, you couldn’t, not when you had a part in the mess that created the fight between Talokan and Wakanda.
“I can’t.”
“Then when you are ready, you can leave.” He spoke to which had your eyes widen and you looked at him now straight in his eyes, the sadness that came with his words. “Just know that you can never come back or you will be killed on the spot as you are a surface dweller trespassing our home. My love and fondness for you does not change the fact that you are an enemy of Talokan.”
It was cruel for him to say after everything that you have both been through together. But in the end, it was always his people above his own emotions and the love you have come to realize you both shared for each other in the short amount of time in his chambers and in his home.
“Okay.”
~
As he had laid on his back so close to the brink of death, defeated by the Black Panther, his mind had been only on two things. His mother and you. He was ready to die, but his memories were brought back to you as the Princess had the spear by his neck, ready to kill him. He was brought back to your words as you had pleaded for him to reconsider the fight against Wakanda. He was brought back to the hope that you would stay if he made the right decision.
He had yielded, with you and his mother on his mind. He had yielded hoping that you would stay even at the venom of his words when he last spoke to you.
As he had spoken to his people, ordering them to go back to Talokan, his mind was flooded with you—the glimpse of hope that you would remain still and be with him. He swam back to the waters, with his people guiding him throughout, his injuries were slowly healing, but it will take time and he needed to rest.
“I want to be left alone.” He spoke to his servant, brushing them away as they intended to patch him up. He refused, deciding to lick his wound in solitude.
Groggily, he had made his way back to this chambers, the silence broke his heart as he saw no sign of you anywhere. Walking towards his bed, he laid face first, the ache and pain that came with the battle against the Princess did a number on him and it would take a while before his wings would grow back.
He closed his eyes, for the moment, making peace with the silence of his chambers, the ghost of your voice echoing his mind. Your lullaby that would give him the comfort he never truly had in his life.
“K’uk’ulkan?”
His eyes snapped open, confused and devastated, it might be the delirium from his injuries that made him hear voices that were never there. But the panic of the voice continued to sound and it was when he felt the warm familiar hands on his shoulders that he had realize it was not his imagination playing a cruel joke on him.
It was you. You were still here.
“In Sirena,” he spoke turning his head to look at you.
The tear stricken face and the worry that was all too evident in your beautiful features.
“Why are you here?” He questioned, sitting up with you guiding him.
“I didn’t have the heart to leave until I know for certain you were alright.”
It was how quick his heart fluttered by your words, the effect you had on him knows no bound and made it all the more painful when you decided to finally leave.
“It is over, I have made an agreement with Wakanda.” He spoke. He watched the way your shoulders relaxed at this words. “You no longer have a reason to stay, you can leave and never turn back.”
“I can’t.” You smiled gently wrapping your arms around the man, sealing your fate to be with him forever, not only as his partner and companion, but as the Queen of Talokan.
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demigoddessqueens · 5 months ago
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Hello dear author,
Would you be interested in writing a love story between one of Namor's generals (female) and him. She is second in comand after Namora, and is fiercely loyal to him, she would die for him. But she is only half talokan (one parent from land, one from talokan- maybe Namor found her and granted her passage and a place is his city). Anyway, she can hear his silent call for his soulmate (maybe he has a special name with which he telepathically calls her, tries to find her, but she keeps quite, thinking it might be a mistake). While on one of his visits to the outside world he stumbled upon a girl who bewitches him, and he is under her spell. Lots and LOTS of angst, but before they are married, on their wedding day reader calls him by his name (Real fact: his mother gave him a name that no one else knows. For his enemies he is Namor, for his people he is K'uk'ulkan, but only he remembers his birth name) and tells him her name that she knew for so long. That snaps the spell on him, they defeat the witch and marry.
Many thanks, can't wait to hear from you if you think you would like to give this story a go.
It’s been so long since I got a Namor request 😄 thanks nonnie!
Masterlist 11
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You and Namor are inseparable. Everyone knows you two are the closest of confidants, maybe even friends, aside from Namora and Attuma
Despite your split parentage, Namor held that against you. The past pales in comparison to the present, and he’s always held you in the highest regards.
All of that changes when you least expect it.
He begins to hear her sirens song, curious as to who comes near his waters.
You see him less and less as days turn to weeks to months, and finally a full year. No sparring, or meetings or jests or inside matters as you did before.
The day you meet her is worse than any training or duress you’ve undergone. All of Namor’s attention focuses on her, the citizens begin to adore her, and you are but a mere afterthought.
Is your heartbreak from the jealousy? Or did you simply wish he was only for you, in any other capacity? That his happiness hinges on your “permission”?
You can barely register what you feel upon his prompt announcement of engagement and soon to be nuptials
As the ceremony goes on, you’re nowhere to be found. Hidden away, you can’t bear to t
A name cherished and given by his mother, who loved her surface home before retreating to the ocean.
Just at that moment, the haze clears from his eyes. The washing realization comes over Namor as he sees the panicked expression of the one who stole him away and the up
Once he finds you, you’re more shocked than ecstatic to see him here.
“Can you ever forgive me?”, “…maybe, but I would like to try again…”
An embrace feels more rewarding and healing than a kiss would in this moment.
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cncowitcher · 6 months ago
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puta que pariu enzo vogrincic 😳😳😳😳😳😳😖😖😞😫😫😫🫦🫦🫦🫦 PUTA QUE PARIU ENZO VOGRINCIC 😨😰😭😭😭😭😭
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nellycanwrite · 2 years ago
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Hear me out
What if Noli / El Fili were a no-powers AU namor x reader (except ybarra/namor's... The heir/prince of talokan)
Imagine Namor in the setting of Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo and fighting for Philippine Independence
Note: This prompt is based off of a novel called Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not) and its sequel El Filibusterismo (The Subversive) written by the Philippines' national hero and activist, Jose Rizal. His works are published discretely to expose the Spanish colonial abuse in print. He describes the pain of the Filipinos under Spanish rule through his writings and was executed for treason against the Spanish empire. His works have inspired the Filipinos to rise up and claim Philippine independence.
Disclaimer: This No Power AU will not feature Namor having Spanish blood, nor will he have any ties to the Spanish conquistadors as respect to his roots in the movie. He is a native-born illustrados; a native blood, educated man of class who is a part of the Propaganda Movement whose writings inspired the calls for Philippine Revolution. For the purposes of accuracy to the time period and setting, however, the characters will be speaking in Spanish.
Avaleine please istfg DON'T TEMPT ME TO WRITE THI—
Imagine a Noli Me Tangere No Powers AU of K'uk'ulkan where he is a native-born illustrados, heir to the riches and land of Talokan, the land his mother left him after her death.
Imagine him coming back from his education from Europe to attend the funeral of his mother, only to find out that the friars of the church and the Spanish politicians hid the reason for his mother's murder.
Imagine K'uk'ulkan erecting schools for those with the same native blood as him so he could teach his kin to be educated enough to fight for their rights in the unfair regime of the Spanish.
Imagine K'uk'ulkan meeting you—his beloved fiance—after years of being apart, only to disappear again as he uncovers the secrets of the Spanish regime and the corruption of the Catholic church.
Imagine him promising you that he would return, but it would be months before you would see each other again. You longed to be with him, but you could not do anything when he is wanted by both the state and the church.
Imagine your peers, your father, and the church pressuring you to call off your engagement with Don K'uk'ulkan. You never wanted to break off the engagement, you never wanted to be betrothed to another man, but you had no power during this era; where women are treated as objects for men's fancies.
Imagine K'uk'ulkan never bearing the same mindset as other men. He always respected you, always told you that you were perfect. But now your engagement was forcefully nulled. And now you are heartbroken.
Imagine him fighting for the freedom of the same people with same plight as him, but he soon realizes that he made a much bigger enemy of the Spanish than he originally thought; and it was all because his mother tried to fight off the Spanish when they had so wrongly mistreated her people—the same people that K'uk'ulkan so desperately tried to protect in the place of her deceased mother.
Imagine him faking his death after the sacrifice of his dear friend Attuma and escaping to Spain to hide with the riches his mother had given him in her last will. He would grieve the death of his closest friend, but he continues on to amass more wealth and fame so he could fight the Spanish regime with his newfound power.
Imagine Attuma's last words before he pushed K'uk'ulkan away to escape the guards who are chasing them; “I can neither love my country or be happy here, but if I were to die here, to spill my blood for my countrymen, then I would suffer a thousand deaths and perish in the soils of which I came.”
Imagine, on the day before your arranged marriage that was hand picked by your father, you read the news of your lover's “death.”
Imagine you telling your father that if he really loved you, if he truly did love you as his daughter, then he would call off the marriage.
Imagine that you only put up with this arrangement in the first place because you could survive through your betrothal with just the knowledge that K'uk'ulkan was alive. But now that he is dead, you could not live with the thought of marrying another man.
Imagine turning to your father, tears falling from your eyes, as you declared; “I wish not to marry any other man, father! My beloved is dead—my K'uk'ulkan is dead! If you still claim to love me as your daughter, then call off the marriage! If not, then it is either the convent or the grave.”
With great reluctance, your father allows you to enter the convent and become a woman of faith; for the death of your beloved was enough for you to vow your chastity upon the Lord and turn away from wandering eyes of men who wanted your hand for your riches.
But you never knew that K'uk'ulkan was alive. Under the guise and a fake name, he continued to build his own riches, his own power, his own empire just he could return to your arms and save his suffering countrymen.
And in a few years, he comes back for you, tricks the people who staged his supposed death (and killed his best friend Attuma).
And now imagine him, going up to you near the entrance of your convent with a smile; you could not recognize him for he was disguised, but he seemed...familiar.
“Hola, señorita. I am Namor. Your father must've told you about me, no?”
AVALEINE YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME ISTFG NFBWHWHDJWJWJDJBDHWWJWK SCREAMING RIGHT NOW TRULY
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