#namor x y/n

[buzzkillers]

FABLES & PARABLES 3|?

Summary: You try to find relief from the curse. The relief follows you home.

Warning: NON-CON (due to sex pollen) , religious themes, non-consensual voyeurism, magical sex pollen, dream-walking, mentions of abortion, attempted forced pregnancy.

PART ONE PART TWO

“Where are you going?” You asked.

The beach-” Your roommate answered, almost soundlessly. Before she took a glance at the pile of blankets and dissertation papers you've become. “I would invite you but you seem too comfy bedrotting to join."

You looked at the mess you’ve become. At the smell you were for sure letting off. But you didn’t want to move. Moving meant having to look at people and trying not to jump them. Moving meant, your guts being twisted and heart aching and the inability to focus on anything but the dryness of her tongue coming back tenfold.

But your roommate was looking at you like that. Like you were a lost cause, and suddenly you remembered where you were. In a new country that you probably couldn't afford to visit again. And you were what? Sitting on your ass? You probably came off like a loser. She probably regretted even bunking with you. So you ignored the twist in your gut, and you smiled. Like a gun was to your head. “Nah, i wanna go.”

“Oh really?” she cocked her head, eyes squinted.

“Yeah, maybe it’ll be good to get some damn fresh air.”

—-

It was not good for you.

You underestimated just how much being inside actually alleviated the cramps that twisted in your gut. The moment you stepped on hot sand, you could just about fall to your knees. But you put up a good front. Instead, you sat at the bon fire that flicked and licked at the sky. A quick wick and you laughed until you felt bile reach up your throat and your eyes linger on everyones body a little bit longer than usual. There's skin showing everywhere and you’re not hiding it. Your eyes lap on exposed skin, crinkled locs, cushioned breasts and the over affectionate throwing of hands put on you.

You were all bundled around a fire.

Combined with your internal heat, you could just about say that you were in hell as your tummies settled with the alcohol and weed gummies. Ok maybe you were being dramatic. This actually was kind of nice. Even if you were currently running hot enough to boil the Atlantic sea. Before around you, murmuring and loud conversations took over the sound of the fire.

“I swear to fucking god,” said one of your classmates with their arms stretched out in the dirt. It was a dude with sallow brown eyes, his hair a wave of braids and sea beads and dark skin that glimmered so much under the moonlight that he kind of looked like a mermaid. Or maybe you were just too crossfaded. He grumbled at the fire. “Im getting a fucking refund, we haven't done shit.”

You all hummed in agreement. Or well you tried to, you hummed and it was more of a strangled gasp. Painful and lacking relief. You felt like shit, looked it too, with sweat beading down your face, as your entire body went slick with perspiration. The fire made it worse. It was taunting you. Each lick and flame forcing even your swimsuit to go damp and damn maybe you were too high.

Whatever.

The merman was right. This was a waste of a trip and none of you actually went to the landmarks you needed. Well, one tried but she simply got stuck in the rain. And then it took her an entire two hours to get back, that was a good enough warning for the lot of you.

“Teotihuacan will be better.” You somehow managed to say cause it had to be, it just had to. This was simply a fluke and this sickness was a fluke and it didn’t take long for everyone to agree and continue muttering more of their grievances before they decided to do something else.

A midnight swim, they said as you guys dipped into the waters. The smell of salty sea and the sunscreen you hazardly sprayed on before you got here invading your nose. Of course, this was probably a stupid idea. You expect that after you put a foot in, somehow the sensation of being high and drunk and then hot and now wet would successfully force you into an early coma.

You pushed forward anyway.

Slowly, you dipped in feet first, the water kissing your knees, till it's wrapped around your neck and you waited, and waited but the consequences never came.

Instead, it's a relief.

A jaw numbing, deep inhaling, blood curdling relief. It's a fist unclenching, and your body going lax as you dipped into the water and felt it cradle you like a babe with its waves in your hair and the rushing of currents at your calves.

In the water you quaked and you swallowed. Then there's a hand on your shoulder. Warm and insistent. As the water breezed over you, washing over your face until the currents embrace felt like fingers that brushed against your thigh. Until it felt like multiple wet, slimy hands were at your hips. Caressing your skin, then digging and pulling and, what happened next was kind of foggy but you remembered one thing. The sight of opal skin, talons at your breast and oh yes–

You started screaming.

.

.

And everyone stared.

–

Somehow afterwards, when the staring turned to worried concern and then uncomfortable silence; you had got up and stumbled to the hotel.

Unbeknownst to you, a shadow followed in your footsteps, a storm covered in golds and jade as the trees protested and the wind whistled in warning, in urgency. It was a malleant effort, but you continued to stumble on the path to the hostel and the shadow continued to watch, to stalk, in faint curiosity and then finally poorly veiled anger. Everything after that was sort of a dream really. A very terrible dream.

____

The hostel was a nightmare of jagged shadows and a creaking AC unit. A place where you didn’t remember taking the elevator nor did you remember stumbling to your room, keycard in hand as the floor slipped beneath your feet. Through the floorboards a song washed through you, a smooth melody, hypnotic and moving you to action but not to speak.

If you were asked to speak, it would not be possible. If you did anything it'd be as if you were stumbling through molasses as the door closed behind you-maybe?- and heat uncurled itself in your lungs and dug its way through your ribs. You felt drunk, high on a drug that you didn’t remember consuming. And if your frontal lobe wasn’t lagging at 2 bits per second, you might’ve been plagued with the question of why and then maybe, with a whisper, help. Please help.

Help with the fire that was beginning to curl in your belly and help with the numbness in the back of your mind and help with the incessant belief that something was fundamentally and irreversibly wrong.

Instead, you crumbled to your knees. Your vision nothing but a ragged cut of film that's been glued together and sewn haphazardly into something that might’ve been memories before you’re back on your feet.

Below, the murmurings and whispers of the tenants bled through the walls, a buzzing t.v, singing children and running baths. “Water.” you think you said, or maybe you just thought it. It was water that made the pain go away wasn’t it? Ocean water but what was the difference between that and what came from the tap? A few minerals and chemicals?

A hum wracked through the room, deep and spellbinding. It could only have come from you.

Then you blinked and you’re in the bathroom. You shifted and your swimsuit shedded off. Outside, wind whistled through an open window.

Another shiver licked up your spine, the skin of your bones rattling. The front door was open again. You should close it. But your bones had turned soft and the floor continued to lean forward, then backwards, the light overhead blinding you. You didn’t close the door.

The music only got closer.

And your hands are pressed into the sink, you're too scared to look in the mirror. It's been like that alot recently, ever since the illness started. Too afraid to look at the black screen on your phone, too afraid to see your reflection in puddles, too afraid to confirm a gnawing sensation. A question that you didn't want an answer to. Behind you, the bath ran hot. The steam clouded your lungs. So you kept your head down, focused instead on the rush of water from the tub you didn't turn on and on the clothes you didn't remember taking off and you took a deep breath.

In response, the bathroom door thumped with a slow, nauseating knock.

You would only have to turn your head.

It would be like the turn of a knob. It would be nothing, it was probably your roommate or your teacher checking on you but you could not look up. Fear kept your focus down as your hair raised and your body shivered.

The tub was still running.

You blinked and you were in the bathroom, in the tub. Everything was ice cold, a turbulent tundra against your veins. And then, the sun stood in your bathroom. A star encompassed in what could only be golden clothes and jewels that twinkled under the fluorescent light.

The sun sighed. "Mortals…..difficult" he turned off the tub. Your feet tangled with muscled calves, a head laid in the crook of your neck.

"I." was all you could say between chattering teeth. It broke through a cotton fog. Something thick and dense that curled at the edge of your skull, buried against bone.

More gold filled your vision. Golden skin, golden jewelry, golden heat that pressed against your skin and made the water overflow from the weight of him.

"Shhh," they whispered, like a melody, like a death sentence before calloused hands pressed into your cheek.

“You’re whining like a hatchling left behind by their mother.” Then a finger brushed at your braids.

“Did you want me to hear you?” He asked.

His voice low in a way that reminded you of ocean currents, of the washing of sand across a beach floor. And in the back of your mind, there's something like a warning. A flashing red light that pounded against your head till the song came back tenfold, and you all but collapsed in the man's arms.

“Who-” Your tongue went heavy in your mouth. What were your trying to say?

A chuckle followed, dry and humorless.

“You pray for me at my altar. You lay yourself bare in the water. You run from me. And yet you ask me who I am?” "

Above you, the stranger shifted. "I should kill you."

Then your legs were being pried apart. Your cunt suddenly split by thick fingers with a thumb on your clit. And just like that, the last remnants of the heat that seemed to plague you for the past couple of weeks washed away, all of that pain and overexertion collapsed into everything but a distant memory. And suddenly you felt silly. The store owner couldn’t have done this, your fingers couldn’t have done this and the familiar need to not be alone, to be surrounded by those that you knew for safety, for relief couldn’t have done this either.

How much time did you waste looking for relief that seemed to only be brought on at this moment.

Above you, the stranger grumbled. “Just know that I am a gracious God.” As the water slipped into your eyes and your lips gasped for breath as if for the first time. "That I am the keeper of promises." Above you the bathroom lights twinkled like stars and the tiled walls gleamed, filling you with glimpses of white, white, white; till your back arched and the orgasm crashed into you like the water, like the stranger whose fingers digged into your ribs.

“There you are.”

And then he was between your legs, something bigger replacing his fingers. “There you are.”

[mariaxxxxx]

Dragon fruit ( Namor x fem!reader)

Summary: You beg K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, menstrual sex, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

PART 2

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

You settled into your nightly beauty ritual to prepare for a night alone. Sitting on a small bench, You sighed in sadness as you looked at your untouchable marital bed. You felt like an idiot because you saw your husband throughout the day, but something inside you was feeling a little more needy than usual. Lacking the touches and kisses of the man with whom he shared his life for half a decade.

It was an agreement sealed without words, just with indecent gestures and touches; You were his good queen during the day and at night he devoured you like a thirsty beast. It was a perfect marriage, You would say; a passionate husband who gave her pleasure in and out of bed. But the idea that something was missing started to grow in your mind, you tried to know what was missing until, during a walk through the market, you discovered it. Your eyes lit up when you saw a young mother swimming with her baby tied to things and thought how she would like to have a baby of her own. After witnessing that simple scene, the idea of having a child timidly appeared in his mind and grew quickly, consuming all his neurons.

It started with a shy voice, deep in his head. A baby, the voice whispered in his mind. Have his babies, the voice hissed in his mind often. As a wife and queen You were expected to conceive a child one day, but such a conversation was never had between You and your husband. He never demanded a baby from her, but he never said he didn't want them.

You were moved by each completion of a lunar cycle where women went to the temple of Ixchel to thank for their blessings. You, as queen, were always present to thank the Goddess for your femininity and ask for good fruits in your marriage. Every time a young mother from Talokan swam to the feet of Ixchel with her baby in her arms and asked the Goddess for protection for her child, You imagined yourself with your own child on your lap thanking the Goddess for its life.

You haven't talked about this with your husband. God, no, you didn't want to stress him out even more. Her husband was so adamant after the peace agreement sealed between Talokan and Wakanda. The flame of war still burned in your pupils, so, following your role as wife and queen, You refused to bore him with your silly matters and decided to keep the thought and attempts to generate a life just for yourself.

However, the idea of keeping it a secret was increasingly becoming difficult to hide. You drooled every time you saw a gentle gesture between a mother and her son, you made love to your husband frequently demanding that he spill his semen inside You, you caressed your untouched stomach in front of the mirror imagining it swollen with K's seed. K'uk'ulkan, visited the temple of Ixchel placing baskets full of dragon fruit on its altar, took herbal infusion with dragon fruit seed to open her uterus and cried every time her menstruation arrived. Her husband was so busy that he didn't notice her lamentations about not having a baby in her womb.

K'uk'ulkan slides through the curtain with tired shoulders hunched, with generous drops of water sliding off him, he brushes his hair out of his eyes as he looks at You. For Ixchel he was so beautiful and irresistible that You had to press your fingers against his bench he was sitting on so as not to jump on it.

“You’re still awake, it’s late. You should sleep.”

You stand up with a smile. Your short nightgown, which barely covered your thighs, sways as you walk towards him.

“I'm fine, my love. I like waiting for my husband.” You say stopping in front of him.

“I have such a good wife.” He says cheekily as he presses a kiss to your blushing cheek.

He offers His armored wrists to You in a silent cry for help. You begin to remove each of your gold-plated vibranium accessories. You masterfully undid hooks and bonds, as you have done many times during your years at his side. When he was free of his ornaments he sealed her lips with his in a kiss of tenderness and passion.

“Come, lie down with me.” You tried to pull him onto the bed, but his firm hands kept you in place. “My love, is something wrong?”

"No." He said simply. “I’m just enjoying my queen’s beauty.”

Suddenly feeling shy, you looked away as your cheeks turned red.

“You shower me with praise, K'uk'ulkan.”

He nods and pulls you by your hips until you are pressed against his wet chest. He reaches out, cups her face and pulls her into a voracious kiss. A moan escapes his throat as he tastes her on his tongue. You bite his lips and pull the way he likes, your husband lets out a sound through his mouth and kisses you again like a thirsty man, savoring your mouth as if it were the tastiest candy.

You place your hands on his solid chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken at your touch. Gods, You will never tire of the effect you have on him. This made You greedy and malicious, but possessing power over a God-king provided You with absurd pleasure. He breaks the kiss leaving You a mess with your heavy breathing and swollen lips.

“I intend to shower you with more than praise, my queen.” He murmurs as he pushes her a little towards the bed. You fall sitting on the soft reeds covered in soft sheets and pillows. “Lie down and spread your legs for your husband.”

You obeyed, as you always did, laying your head on the soft pillows and spreading your legs. Your breath catches and you bite your lip when your king positions himself between your legs and observes your naked sex.

“What a good girl I have in my bed.” He says in a sigh as he watched your exposed pussy. "So beautiful..."

He hums as he positions his face in front of her pussy with every intention of devouring her. Hot breath penetrates through your thin skin, sending pleasurable spikes. You feel him place small kisses on your pelvis, making your legs tremble as your core vibrates in anticipation. His wet hands explore her body covered in the thin nightgown.

“K'uk'ulkan...” You whimper as he pinches your left nipple,

He ignores it as he tugs at your nightgown with an impatient growl. He rips it line by line until your body is completely exposed to him.

He moves off your pelvis and begins to place soft kisses on your exposed belly, making the wet spot between your legs grow absurdly. You knew he couldn't see his excitement, but his nose could smell the sweet smell that your pussy gave off. Your husband moves away from you, supporting himself on his elbows and looks directly into his face.

“My beautiful, beautiful queen.” He says while feeling one of her breasts with his hands. “They would look beautiful swollen with milk…” his hand leaves her breast and goes to her belly. “...You would be even more beautiful with my seed growing inside You.”

His words take you by surprise, taking you out of your little world of pleasure. Her breath hitches when her husband's smile becomes wider than normal.

“I... I...” You stammered and babbled like an idiot without knowing how to respond.

“I know the woman I love, my queen.” He began to caress her stomach as if something was growing there. “You think I didn’t understand your anguish and desire for a child. I know that it goes back to the time of Ixchel and offers dragon fruit and prayers so that she fills her womb with a child.”

"I am really sorry." You finally say. “I didn’t want to upset him. You're so stressed after the battle with Wakanda, I didn't want to fill your head with my empty desires.”

Her husband exclaimed a sound through his mouth and looked at you with disappointment.

“You wanting a child doesn’t upset me, my love.” He kissed her lips, walked away and spoke again: “What upsets me is my queen turning to another God to conceive a child.

"My love..."

He interrupts her with a simple look and speaks again.

“Pray that K'uk'ulkan will give you a baby.”

He returns to his starting position, with his head between your legs, he takes a single breath against your exposed pussy, his hair glistening with wetness, before diving in and latching onto your throbbing clit. Lewd sighs and moans escaped his lips as you ran your hands through his wet hair to pull him closer to your pussy. With impressive skill he sucks, licks and pinches his wetness.

The tension in your body increases as You fight to keep yourself sane, your arousal constantly dripping down and staining the sheets. He puts his hands on her thighs to keep them apart and devour her pussy. He ate You like a hungry man; licking her entrance, sucking her clit with his lips and brushing his beard against her skin. You cry out in surprise as you feel him bury his nose over your clit, the jade piercing brushing against your stimulated folds. He actively rubbed his face against your pussy, causing a large wave of excitement that made you shudder as you moved your hips seeking more contact.

Just as you were about to reach orgasm, he pulls away from your pussy, forming a stream of saliva from your mouth to your pussy. You open your mouth and let out an anguished gasp.

"No! Please." You whimper, your legs tremble as that peak of pleasure escapes you for a long time.

You tighten your fingers in his hair in frustration, demanding that he give you the release you desire, but he pulls away. He stands there with a cheeky look as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, spreading his lubrication across his cheek.

“You will orgasm on my cock, my love.” He sighs, his voice hoarse with desire, his pupils darkening and his cock hard. "Let's go! Cry for K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby.”

You spread your legs to welcome him, your wet pussy brushing against the fabric covering his hardening cock. You search for more contact and rub your soaked entrance against his green shorts until he pulls them down. You sigh as you come across such a glorious sight.

“K’uk’ulkan.” You whisper at the sight of his hard compliance eager to accomplish his goal. He rests his dark red head, which was leaking and twitching involuntarily, on her swollen and sensitive clit. You squinted your eyes, enjoying the friction caused by the movements of his hips.

“Come on, wife! Pray that K'uk'ulkan will give you a baby.”

“K’uk’ulkan...” You begin as he positions his member at your entrance. “I beg you to give me a son.” He pushes his fulfillment against the curve of your center, answering your prayer. A loud moan escapes your dry throat when, in a single thrust, he penetrates you.

"Continues." He orders as he pushes his length, sliding it in easily thanks to his touches and how demanding your pussy was to receive him.

You throw your head back as you feel him fully inside You. Your mind goes black as all You can feel is him thrusting hard inside You, pounding until You can feel his heavy balls rubbing against your pussy. You could only moan obscenely as you closed your eyes.

"Let's go! Ask... Ask K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby. Beg him to fill your empty womb with his seed.” He gasps as he felt You squirm beneath him.

“K'uk'ulkan, I offer you everything; fruits, devotion, wine. I only ask that you fill my womb with your seed.” You hiss as you pull him closer, your walls bulging around him. “I give you my heart, my spirit and my love.”

“Offer more.” Demands her husband while thrusting mercilessly.

“I will fill your altar with dragon fruit and I will kneel...” You let out a loud moan when his dick hits that ideal spot inside You. “...Give me a baby.”

"Yes." He says as he chatters his teeth upon hearing your delightful prayer. He kisses her fiercely, a mixture of teeth and lips, her husband pulls away with his addictive lips.

“Your cry has been heard.” He places one hand on her belly to keep her steady while he penetrates her pussy. “K'uk'ulkan will give you a baby.”

Your nails dig painfully into your husband's back and you scream when you feel his dick rub every sensitive spot inside you, causing absurd waves of pleasure that spread through every cell in your body. Your husband growls, aligns his hips up, and digs his member as deep as he can, speeding up his movements.

He thrusts into you with precision, kissing your lips to swallow your screams of pleasure that escape your throat. Excitement fills her thoughts as You allow her husband, this God, to lift her to heaven with his cock. He sets a brutal pace, slamming his cock into her sensitive pussy. His breasts bounce painfully with each thrust of his hips.

"Take it." He growls the word, opening his teeth like an animal. “Take my seed, wife. Carry my children.”

He holds your hips with his fingers and squeezes them until his finger marks remain. You don't care, the pleasure he gave you left you oblivious to anything. He ejaculates inside You, shuddering as your walls accompany him in a sublime climax. With each generous jet of cum into his womb, you whimper with relief as you finally feel satisfied and full. He places soft kisses on your cheeks and lips.

You feel him soften in your pussy, he finally pulls out, releasing his fluids onto the sheets. He immediately shoves two fingers into her sensitive entrance pushing his cum back inside.

“Don’t waste anything.” He says, admiring the results of the desire between his fingers.

“Let me get up.” You say as you sit up in bed, or try to, your legs are shaking and your lungs are panting. “I must place a basket of dragon fruit on K'uk'ulkan's altar and kneel at his feet.”

“No need to bother, my love.” He says with his fingers still inside You. “He has his tasty dragon fruit right here. Ready to be devoured again and again and again.” He sticks a third finger inside You while using his other hand to touch your sensitive and aching clit. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re pregnant.”

You scream his name in a prayer of pleasure as his fingers begin to stimulate your clit and his fingers inside you stimulate the spongy flesh in your pussy.

[demigoddessqueens]

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

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.

[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt. 3

Part One  |  Part Two

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language, Violence, Depictions of drowning, Fluff

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

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

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

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

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

And there he is.

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

Namor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you always been a warrior?”

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

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

Nice.

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

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

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

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

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

“Up.”

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

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

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

“Weapon.”

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

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

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

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

“Namora.”

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

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

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

Fighting lessons must be over.

“Come,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The influx of her voice is not lost on you.

“And you don’t approve?”

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

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

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

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

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

Ah. Don't move. Got it.

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

Then, there he is.

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

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

“How is your hand?”

Namor’s question snaps you out of your daze.

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

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

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

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

Your question brings a smile to Namor’s face.

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

Namor then shifts the topic of conversation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namor is quiet for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You mean — surface dwellers?" You ask.

Namor raises his brow at you knowingly.

"Yes,” he answers cooly.

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

Namor sighs with a small smile.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you up for a swim?”

—

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

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

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

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

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

When it comes to you, he is blind.

You dive in, following Namor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this—?” You begin to ask.

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

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

You consider the facts:

You are a surface dweller.

He did call you dangerous.

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The offer catches you off guard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------

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

[multific]

Perfect Match

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.

Namor Taglist: @lunamoonbby​

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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

[way-of-love]

Unfulfilled (PART 3)

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

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

He was a king.

And the king longed for you.

-Sorry for the wait!-

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

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

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

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

Or risk losing your income.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm just tan-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was better to be selfish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

These lessons were that from a jealous woman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me touch you mujer fatal,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namor leaned in without any hesitation, and kissed her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[usagii-bun]

𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇 ( NAMOR X READER ) PT.4

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

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

hiraeth ( namor ) wattpad | oc version!

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A bright flash of purple and then a loud crackling noise followed by a hiss came from above you and Huracan shocks you at the loud noise and the thunderstorm that has finally brewed up, the rain became even heavier causing your heart to beat faster.

"Let's get back inside, we don't want to become fried fish today." You say, laughing at your lame excuse of a joke which Huracan didn't understand fully but he did understand that you wanted to go back inside from the way your body had stiffened slightly.

He was about to agree but then the sight of a shiny, shell that was a bit closer to the ocean water grabs his attention— he wanted to get that shell so that he could give it to you, forgetting that you wanted to go back in as he leaves your side, alarming you as he runs down the bank to go and retrieve the shell.

"Huracan!" You shout out alarmed, the rain pelting down heavily, the sky above you becoming dark— the only source of light now coming from the lighting that viciously flashed from above and the few outside lights from your house.

You slide down the steep slope to get to the boy only for your flip-flop to get stuck into something and in turn crashing into the youngster causing him to also fall and let out a small yelp.

"oh gosh, Hura! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" You cried out, you moved to his side to see that you had slightly bruised his knee cap, crimson escaping from the bruise as guilt consumes you from being so unconscious and not watching where you walked.

Huracan didn't feel much pain from the small bruise, he was about to tell you it's okay but you tore a small part of your shirt to help stop the bleeding. A small amount of blood covered your finger tips when you wrapped the small piece of cloth around his tiny knee cap, tightening the cloth around it.

A throbbing feeling around your ankle became prominent as you gazes down at your leg, to find that you had slightly twisted your ankle due to your flip-flop getting stuck onto something— that being the whole reason you slipped.

A small cry leaves from your parted lips, the thunderstorm viciously going on above them as the rain fell down. Your body was drenched in rain water, making you shiver adding more to the pain you felt in your ankle.

"Y-Y/N!" the young child cried out grasping onto your shoulders, he gazed at you to find that tears were also trailing down your cheeks with the rain water, your hands covered in wet sea sand and dabs of blood.

This made tears to form in Huracan's eyes, he was now scared and worried about you, the person that took care of him like he was their own child— he didn't know what to do to help you, making him feel even more worried and scared as the thunder flashed and rumbled.

Your body that trembled suddenly went stiff, your blood running cold— you felt like you and Huracan were being watched.

You were right.

The sound of something fluttering, similar to the sound of a rattle snake mingled with the harsh noises of the rain, lightning and the waves that crashed close by.

The fluttering sound stops , it suddenly goes eeirely quite, Huracan's whimpers go silent and before you could comprehend whether you was just feeling paranoid —something grasped the collar of the shirt you wore and pulled you harshly away from Huracan, throwing you to the other side away from him.

You heard Huracan scream your name out, your body feeling extremly numb, the world around you spinning while terror sunk into every firbe of your being.

Your neck twists to the side to see what had thrown you so viciously away from Huracan, fear laminating in your eyes, your gaze being met with the tip of a sharp spear, your body flinching away from it in terror but it was now pressed against the side of your neck in a threatening manner to slice your head off clean.

The lightning struck again, giving you a better vision of what was being hostile towards you , your eyes widening when your gaze falls on a man— his entire being radiate regality from the way his body oozed confidence to the jewelry that was adorn upon him. His chest covered in some sort of metal that was beautiful crafted, the same type of metal also adorning his biceps and wrists.

She also noticed that he had pointed ears, adorn with jewels just like the rest of him.

You shakily raise your hands, to say you was no threat or harm but this act seemed to make the man even more infuriated when he spotted dabs of blood smeared on your finger tips and then seeing blood around the area where Huracan was.

"How dare you take my son away and harm him?"

Shit. Was the first thought that came to your mind, you was right, Huracan did have someone to go back to— your thoughts being cut short when the cold tip of the spear pressed even closer to your neck that you could feel the pressure tearing slightly into your skin.

Your words were stuck in your throat from fear, you couldn't formulate a response except for a shaky breath to escape past your lips, your body trembling from pain and fear.

Due to your lack of response that made the King even more agitated, his spear was about to press into the side of your neck but tiny hands wrapped around his arm, holding it in place before he could slash at you.

"Father, please don't!" the young child cried out in his own language, this alerting the king who turns towards his son— the furious look that had adorn his face moments ago was replaced by one that was filled with worry.

"Huracan, my child. Are you alright? Did it hurt you?" his voice venomous when he says the word it , you didn't understand what they were saying but from the side glare the man had passed to you, you knew he had said something about you.

"No! Do not bring harm to y/n, she had saved me! Please do not harm her, she didn't do anything wrong. If you want to punish someone, father— it should be me, I should have never left Talokan." The boy sobs out, hearing Huracan's broken voice made your chest hurt— your eyes squeezing shut to prevent any tears from escaping as everything around you started to spin, the world around you becoming blurry as all the pain you felt physically and emotionally became blunt.

Your vision being filled with black dots that became larger until your eyes closed completely, body slumping into the sand— the fear you felt along with the pain made you fall unconscious this grabbing Huracan's attention, the boy letting go of his father's arm to rush towards you.

A cry leaves past his parted lips, his hands reached out to hug your cold body against his.

"Look what you have done, father. You killed her!" The boy says inbetween sobs, you was far from dead but to Huracan seeing your still body, no warm smile on your face and your eyes that twinkled with care and affection was no longer there— you looked dead to him.

K'uk'ulkan looked down at you. His son held onto you so gently, the rain easing down — the thunderstorm slowly clearing up.

"Hura.. she's not dead." The king says while his inner voice says  'well not yet'. He didn't trust you, this human but the way his son held onto you like his own life depended on you— he could not just kill you after he found out you had saved his son.

"You have to help her then or else I'll hate you forever." Huracan suddenly spat out— eyes shining bright with anger and saddness, his words stung K'uk'ulkan , his heart aching at the words his son spewed at him. An expression of hurt forms on K'uk'ulkan's face, a soft sigh leaving past his lips.

He glances down at your unconscious form that laid on the sand, his son's words floating around in his mind. He bends down towards you, taking in your features— noticing your skin has gotten paler and your ankle was swelling.

He was not keen on helping you, a surface dweller, he had hate for these disparage creatures but seeing how his son has become attached to you, clinging. He couldn't just kill you.

With one last glance towards your unconscious body, he looks back towards the raging ocean as he signals for Namora to come to him. He turns away and looks down at his son, his heart softening when he sees the tears on his cheeks as he sighs lightly.

'I'm only doing this for you my child.'

PART 5

[urlocallsimp]

Who's touching our husband like dat 🤨🤨🤨

Also how do i apply for this job?

[mrs-lockley]

Across the Spider-Verse

Miguel O'Hara (Hades & Persephone AU, WOC!Reader) Once Upon a December

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Namor of Talokan/K'uk'ulkan (Filipina (Kapampangan) Sirena!Fem!Reader) Where the Spirit Meets the Bones

Moon Knight

Jake Lockley (Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, Sabrina 1955 AU, No Moon Knight AU) Reach for the Moon Series Masterlist Moon Knight System (GN!Reader) Sleeping Headcanons

Last Updated: 2/19/2024

[amhrosina]

If you don't mind me being a little nasty. *clears throat*

I feel in the deepest parts of my vagina that Namor would be that type of man that would grind his cock into you.

Like he would bearly leave your pussy while he fucks you. He would grind sinfully and roughly hold you down so you can do nothing but take his deep penetration.

And last but not least he would do it in the missionary position so he can watch as your eyes roll back as he drags his cock against your walls

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

BESTIE!!!!! YES!!!!!!! (*for the record, i don't mind anyone being a little nasty in my asks when it comes to things like this lol*)

So like, we all know Namor has likely had a string of lowkey lovers over the years, right???

And being absolutely astronomically for real, the rumors about him being SO good in bed are absolutely true ANYWAYS

I feel like Namor has always insisted on taking his various lovers from behind?? Like it subtly puts some emotional distance between him and whoever he has in his bed.

And he has a strict 'no kissing' rule. He has centuries of mistrust, walls, and rage built up - these boundaries are a way for him to stay in control of this situation!

And then he met you and that all flew right out the window.

The first time he takes you to bed, he doesn't even realize he has you panting and moaning on your BACK until you arch into his touch and it almost sends him over the edge.

He decides he doesn't care about following his rules anymore when you look that stunning cumming around him.

And shit, when he finally ruts into you so deeply that his entire world shifts, it's like having a taste of the forbidden fruit.

He will literally leave important meetings just to find you and fuck you against whatever surface is closest.

He's never been so ravenous for someone before. And he always fucks you in missionary because he loves to watch you squirm underneath him.

The easy access to your sinful lips is also a perk.

When he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll tease you by nipping at your jaw, pressing kisses to your collarbones, and whispering the dirtiest things he can come up with into your ear, all while fucking you hard into the mattress.

Watching you uncomfortably shift in your seat after he spent half the night fucking you on every surface imaginable is his favorite way to spend breakfast, though he's been known to lay you down on the literal breakfast table and take you right then and there if he thinks you didn't find enough pleasure the night before.

Namor is a self indulgent lover, but he never fails to make you cum multiple times before letting himself climax.

Don't even get me started on how feral he gets when you ask him to taste you!!!!! That man is 500 years old!!!! He knows how to eat pussy!!!!!!

This was so much longer than I was expecting??? Anyways, Namor makes me absolutely feral (as do most of the men I write about), so everyone can feel free to send me more of these lol

tag list:

@thatlesbosimp @legocity2 @softclue @violet-19999 @uwiuwi @omgsuperstarg @purpleetou @Raeluvsbloodline @historygeekgueen @kneelarhmstrung @euphoricjupiter @ethereal-athalia @quackson03 @johfaam0 @messymissy @husherstan @quackimilktea @certifiedhunter @shoxji @dazecrea @layazul @bontensbabygirl @jasmihine @brookiecookiez0 @foxfaceintheflesh @atabeyguabancex @m0nster-fvcker @lokidbadguy @lunamoonbby @theesexystallion @scoliobean @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt

[buzzkillers]

Fables and Parables 2/5

Pairing: Namor x Black!Reader

Chapter Summary: you begin to feel the affects of the curse.

Warning: NON-CON, religious themes, non-consensual voyeurism, magical sex pollen, dream-walking, mentions of abortion, attempted forced pregnancy.

PART ONE

It rained the next day. 

It's so bad that you're forced to braid your hair. The gel wasn't working and the frays of your edges curled underneath the humidity.

Lucky you, but that's not where your bad day ended, of course not. 

The storm had forced you all inside, the rain battering against the very thin walls of the hostel. All plans for exploration were delayed. Quickly, your discomfort turned into irritation and then your period started. Of course it did. Thankfully, there was no blood yet but it was the beginning of it. You could feel it in the twist of your gut, the odd ache in your pelvis. It's so subtle that it could’ve passed a stomach ache

But you've never felt your stomach twist like this before. Like there was a needle in your guts that pulled and twisted.

 So yeah, you were on your period and the weather was shit and you were starving. But you didn’t mind, you really didn't. Until then it rained the next day and the day after that and you never bled. 

“It’s global warming,” your roommate whispered, her face still shoved into her book. 'Art and Society of Mayan culture ' it read, the bind of it worn and dirty. 

You relaxed in your own bed. Your leg splayed off the edge.“-just think about it,”

“I'm thinking about it,” You lied. Because you’ve actually been reading the same  ‘Wikipedia’ page for the last five minutes and you were afraid that if you moved a muscle, something just might burst. 

The other didn’t know this though. How could she? So she rolled her eyes, lips pinched. “Im serious,” 

“I mean it's May—May," she turned a page, "We're supposed to be touring temples but instead we're-" she looked over at you and then winced. "-I actually don't know what you're doing," 

"Waiting for this bootleg ibuprofen to kick in," you muttered, your phone now fallen asleep. You took a strangled breath. 

"I don't think it's working," 

“Are you sure you don't want tea?” she asked cause she was nice and didn’t know that every word she spoke made you want to bite bricks. You shoved your head into the pillow and tried to suffocate yourself. “Nah, rather vomit,” Last night, you only had one cup and instantly spat it out. You’d rather stick to sink water. 

“I think I'm just gonna die here,” you groaned, ‘cause it would just be your luck really. Then you curled into a ball, your arms wrapped around your knees. The position only made it worse.  Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes. 

The woman sucked her teeth, “Right, die in a run down hostel, in the middle of nowhere, that's not inconsiderate,”

“Kindly fuck off,”

“To get tea? Yeah I'm suddenly in the mood,” you shot the woman a glare, and suddenly it's her that's ignoring you. The look on her face smug as she jumped into some trousers and walked out the door. 

You took the moment to look out the window. It faced the front streets, above all the pop shops and grocery bags. Below you, people ran to get away from the onslaught. No one wanted to drive today, clearly. People bustled in the streets, business men went home and school children ran with their bags over their heads. Anything to get out of the rain. 

Except one, a lone figure at the edge of the sidewalk, who stood straight, unaffected. He did not wear an umbrella or a raincoat for that matter. Instead, his shelter was the leaves of the sidewalk trees. It flicked and fettered over him, it also did a shit poor job of actually keeping him dry. He looked at your Hostel. Unmoving. In your delusion, he was also blue, he looked very very blue.

Your face pinched and then the needle in your stomach twisted and your intestines curled and you forgot all about it. At least some people didn’t mind the rain. 

—-

It never stopped raining. Not truly. It might've drizzled, or splashed or allowed a pause within the bulging of clouds and the clap of thunder but it never actually stopped. Not for more than a few minutes anyway. 

Time only existed within the ratatat typing of rain. Between the moment where it splashed and melded into the streets. 

You didn't know what was more irritating, the cramps or that sound. After a few moments, your roommate picked the sound and that was all you needed to hear before you popped another ibuprofen and migrated to the play rooms of the hostel. 

Play room was stretching it though. It was simply a small living room with an ancient boxed tv and folding chairs. It's crowded when the two of you get down there. An odd mix of your classmates and other residents and they’re all watching the news on the weather. 

‘Unexpected’ they said, ‘unlikely to stop anytime soon,'  which in other words meant your earlier sentiment was right. 

You were never leaving this hostel and you were all feeling it. You've never felt so bored, so hungry. And the daily work assignments and sandwiches in the fridge weren't cutting it. You guys were going to have to leave the hostel for food eventually. Maybe that's why you were feeling the way? 

 It was a good hypothesis as the pangs in your belly tightened. You've never felt a hunger like this before. Strong and potent. 

So, a few hours later you're outside now. A few blocks away from the hostel and filled with enough ibuprofen that it might not be the storms that’ll kill you. There's only one grocery store on your street. It's an artificial beacon of fluorescent lights, the door rung when you opened it.  

With wobbly knees, you walked inside and the weather followed. A man with a mop looked up and glared at you. You ducked into one of the aisles.  

You needed something sweet, something heavy. Bread? No. Ice cream? You ran through each aisle. And then you walked and then your just sort of sludged your way around. Each movement made the world curl into itself, your floor tilted beneath your feet. 

By the time you actually got to the front again nothing looked appealing. Tortilla bread suddenly looked too heavy and chorizo looked too much. You looked at your basket, lips downturned. 

Maybe you should just get a drink instead. But even that made you want to curl into yourself. Soda was too much. A lemonade too sweet. What about water? At that your stomach twisted and turned, cold than hot. The cashier looked at you plainly. 

“¿Eso es todo, señora?" you blinked.

He was an older man, with sunken eyes and gray hair that was long but tied into a tight ponytail. He gave off a scent of artificial pine tree, his fingers battered with callouses. He had a gold tooth and his shirt, although clean, was translucent due to the rain that battered through the window every time a customer came in. 

You licked your lips, warmth in your belly overflowed. You wondered if he’d let you get on your knees. If all it would take was a look and sweet words before you led yourself behind the counter-

“señora?” the man's voice boomed you out of your thoughts, you flinched back. “Sorry, I-” you shook your head, “¿Tienes uh agua?” 

His eye twitched. “pasillo 10,”

Your mouth went dry. You looked to the back aisle, at the long tiled floors that seemed to drag on forever. On a back shelf the water sat pretty.  You licked your lips again. Something in you bloomed. It was exactly what you needed. Water.

With a fevered glance back, you battered your fingers against the counter. One gallon would be just as much as the food. It looked more appetizing too, like it would belly over the thirst that ran in your tummy. 

Like a great way to wash the taste of the man off your tongue.  

You shook your head, “Actually-” 

“-¿Te importaría conseguirlo para mí?” the man just looked at you, their mouth downturned. He looked ready to stay no. 

The aisle wasn’t that far away. And anyone with working legs would be able to make it to the back. But something in your face made the man's face relaxed, the corner of his lips pinched. “fine,” then with a glance, “Pero no vomites en mi suelo,” 

Unlikely. In fact vomiting was a very real possibility. You felt it in your throat, in the overtone and queasiness that slobbed in your tummy. 

You looked at him as he left. Watched the skin on his back, the sweat that twinkled down his spine. Your stomach flipped and turned. Suddenly, your hands were clammy and your lips dry. What kind of hunger was this?  

What kind, made you want this? Claws in your back, and kisses on your chest. You wanted it bad, like a bird wanted murder and a plant water, it was a need, a cancer that furloughed in your deepest cavities and bloomed. Ricocheting like a bullet before you fell to your knees and vomited it all out. 

—

You don't go out much after that. 

[mariaxxxxx]

Gods fall sometimes (+18)

Summary: Summary: K'uk'ulkan for You to give him a baby (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, slight degradation, pregnancy, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words

A/N: A sequel, or not, to Dragon Fruit. I feel like the reader and K'uk'ulkan have a lot to tell about the baby.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

PART 1

You woke up at your usual time in the morning. A young maid came to the hammock and gently woke him up. Rested, you sat in the hammock, watching the cabin. It was already daytime, you assumed the sun wasn't present in that cave meters below the sea. So, the room was cold, indicating the presence of salt water around the stones. You stretched, passing your hand over the hammock, something you had become accustomed to doing.

He wasn't there, in fact, he never was. Her husband always slept next to her, but they never woke up together. K'uk'ulkan always woke up early and left the room, leaving her alone to rest. A habitation that You were already accustomed to. Even though, after years of marriage, he was still in the hammock while You woke up, it didn't take long, and he soon returned to Talokan.

You understood. I couldn't stay mad at him. Her husband had ruled for centuries alone, and taciturn habits were hard to shake. Although her days were lonely, her husband made the nights warm. Attempts to make a baby were fun, but fruitless so far. You thought you conceived a baby the day your husband made you pray for him, but the Gods gave you no such gift. The red spot between his legs the following month was enough to make him give up trying.

The Gods, not even K'uk'ulkan, were willing to make you a mother. If not even the divine was able to make you conceive, you thought that an infusion with dragon seeds wouldn't do it either, so you chose to leave it aside. You hadn't talked to your husband about giving up on him, you just continued to let him devour you during the night and cum while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you would look pregnant.

You shook your head to get the bad thoughts out of your mind. He got up from the hammock, noticing for the first time, a box on a small table. A box wrapped in jade green paper. Feeling attracted to that object, and as she approached, she captured a small paper containing the drawing of a celestial goddess generating life in her womb. A faint smile formed on her lips as she noticed her husband's enthusiasm in conceiving a child.

You ripped open the wrapping and opened the wooden box, taking out what appeared to be hair ornaments shaped like your crossed serpents encrusted in gold and jade stone. You smiled a sincere and charming smile. You loved getting jewelry and your husband knew it

“Beautiful, my queen.” Exclaimed the young maid. You hadn't noticed that she was still in the room. “Like the serpents in the hair that adorn the goddess Ixchel.”

“Oh.” You exclaimed in surprise. Only then did he realize that they really resembled the snakes in the hair of the statue of the Goddess Ixchel.

You underestimated your husband, as you always had, he knew you like the back of his hand. It was a not-so-subtle warning that he would continue to try to get her pregnant. He saw her as the goddess of love and the moon herself, this only revealed her adoration before You. Her hands felt for her hair ornament while her mind thought about how You could put an end to her anguish. Then an idea popped into his mind; an idea that could please or upset the gods. It will be her last attempt at conception, if it doesn't work, you will accept that the Gods were not willing to give you the gift of pregnancy. Determined, you turned to the young handmaid and said:

“Cancel all my commitments as queen. Then help me with something

(….)

You were on your knees in the soft reeds waiting for him. As K'uk'ulkan slipped through the curtain, wet from head to toe and richly adorned in gold, he froze at the sight of her figure sitting on her knees in the reeds. With the outfit, or almost none of it, more erotic than he had ever seen. He left him speechless and his cock hardened just by the sight. You looked like the Goddess of the moon herself. With her breasts uncovered, a huge black pearl necklace around her neck, a thin transparent petticoat that covered her intimacy, her perfectly styled hair held back by the hair ornament received in the morning.

 K'uk'ulkan didn't say a word or make a sound, like he could have. He just allowed himself to enjoy the most beautiful sight. It was You who dared to break the silence.

“My devotee.” You exclaimed in a low voice. “Tell me what You want.”

K'uk'ulkan laughs, realizing his joke and approving the idea. Would it be a challenge? Yes. He would do everything to please the young God who lived in his bed. For You, K'uk'ulkan would bend the knee.

“Ah, my beautiful goddess.” He murmurs, approaching the reed. He placed his knees on the soft padding, getting close to You. “Can I eat You, my Goddess? Put my seed in your blessed body?”

You lick your lips, push your knees up until your lips are close to his.

"Perhaps." You whisper. “Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you want me.”

Before you can react, he reaches out to tilt his cheek and presses his mouth against yours to begin a familiar dance between tongues. You kissed those lips several times, infinite times and it would never be enough. No amount of touching would be enough to satiate her love for this man.

You move away a little to breathe, resting your forehead against his and stroking his nose affectionately.

“Last time, my love.” You say. “If tonight we don’t conceive, know that it will be the last time we try.”

“Don’t say that” he says with a slight tone of sadness in his voice. “We will try as many times as necessary until my seed takes root in your womb.”

You wanted to argue and say how much the failed attempts destroyed you inside. She wanted to tell of the times she cried in secret during each new cycle of the new moon without a child in her arms to thank the goddess. But you didn't say it, you just withdrew that feeling to the bottom of your heart and kissed him again.

This time the kiss became more urgent as a silent promise of comfort and burning desire. He wraps his arms around your waist, until you're sitting on his lap. You snuggle onto his hardened cock, moving your hips just the way he liked it. K'uk'ulkan's desire rose like the rising tide before the full moon.

"Part." You murmur into his kiss. “Ask me. Offer me everything.”

"Yes." He says over moans. “My beautiful goddess. I guarantee that my offering will be satisfactory.”

"Hmm." You lick his lips.

Your husband takes a deep breath as his fingers curl around your hips propelling your movements, his lips pursed awaiting more of your kisses. You put your hands on his chest and push him so he lays down on the soft pillows. It was his turn to be in charge. He tries to get up to pull you to yes, but you push him away again, remaining firmly seated on his covered cock.

You lean in and start placing small kisses on his lips, which go down to his chin and neck. Before you know it, he distributes kisses and nibbles over his toned chest. With an expert touch, you pull the fabric of the shorts down. Her mouth salivates and her pussy tightens at the sight of his hardened cock.

“Oh, is this my offering?” You question, your voice full of desire. “I’m not sure it will be enough to satisfy me.”

You notice your husband's fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you wrap your hand around his cock and massage the damp head with your thumb.

“I guarantee that will be more than enough, my goddess.” He grits his teeth as he groans when You squeeze his dick tightly, just the way he liked it.

“I will taste my offering then.”

Sue husband sighs loudly as her fingers curl around him and her lips close over the weeping purple head. Even with little provocation, her pussy fills with excitement at having the salty taste of his seed on her tongue again. You start by kissing the tip, brushing your lips, then continue to tease him with brief sucks and nibbles, listening to your husband's cry for more contact.

"Do not tease me." He orders through his teeth.

"Silence." You exclaim. “I need to check if this offering is up to me.”

K'uk'ulkan rolls his eyes and moans loudly when You take him almost entirely down his throat. His mouth works well, extracting every drop of your salty essence. Her husband Sue pushes her hips up trying to make her swallow more, alternating between provocative sucks and playful licks on the sensitive skin. You keep him in a state of pure pleasure and he growls loudly at the audacity provoked. You were the only mortal who could have a god like him, so weak in the knees, panting like a whore. Her mouth opens wider, pushing herself beyond the limits of paradise, as if she wants to ascend to the divine status her husband has placed her in. You completely swallow it deeper into your throat. Even as his eyes water from the task, you lower yourself onto his cock until your own nose brushes the black hairs of his crotch and his purple head reaches the back of your throat. Your husband gasps as he feels the outline of his cock in his throat, a sight that makes him almost tear the sheets.

"My Goddess." He murmurs between moans and sighs. “Let me spill my seed inside You.”

You take it out of your mouth but wrap your hand around it to continue massaging. Making the provocation even more torturous.

“My worshiper” You tease with a quick movement of your hands, “What do you offer before me?”

"All. I offer everything. My body, my spirit, my nation. Just let me spill my seed into your pussy so that life will be nourished.”

You line yourself up, with your knees around him, to straddle him. Your hand guides the stiff, weeping cock into your wet pussy. You moan loudly as you feel him enter all the way in, your walls welcoming him with sacred heat and divine adoration. Now, no teasing or games. It was time to conceive the much-desired baby.

His cock sinks deep inside her pussy caressing every sensitive spot on her walls. Your hips gain momentum to ride him; rolling and jumping to extract all the lust.

"How many?" You question breathlessly without missing a beat. “How many babies do you want, devotee? Tell me and I will give them.”

“One, two, three...all of them, my goddess. Give me them all”

Your belly contracted with an indication of the approaching orgasm, but You refused to finish before it, as tonight would squeeze out every drop of your seed. K'uk'ulkan lifted his hips to meet his thrust, making it even harder to keep the ecstasy away. Her husband seemed not too far away from his own orgasm, to bring him even further to the brink of pleasure. You made circular movements with your hips as you bounced on his dick.

“Spill your seed!” You demand with the tides of your own release rising within your body, “I'm close, so close…”

Your pussy clenches around him, sobbing his name as you reach your orgasm. The rhythmic spasms of your walls dragging you to the edge along with it. K'uk'ulkan moans with his head against the pillow, his hips stutter briefly, but he continues to pump his seed deep inside her pussy. He holds her hips to keep her trapped and only lets go when all his cum has been emptied. You held in place feeling his penis soften inside You. His breathing was still labored, his head was spinning and his ears were ringing with the powerful orgasm given to You by the divine.

You got off of him, leaving his softened penis lying on his left side. She lay down next to him enjoying the little world of pleasure that surrounded them.

“Tonight, my love.” Her husband said, breaking the silence. “Tonight we will conceive a child.”

And he was right. It was that night that the first baby was conceived. Two months after that night the symptoms started; the swollen breasts, the nausea, the sleep. An old woman confirmed her pregnancy when You came to her to report about the illnesses. When You told him K'uk'ulkan spun her in his arms as she rejoiced promises of love and joy at having a fruit growing in her womb.

For a long nine months you were pampered and fawned over by your husband. No request, no matter how ridiculous, was too small or difficult for her devoted husband. When her belly and breasts became swollen, K'uk'ulkan massaged her body with scented oils for hours, tending to each aching muscle. And when the baby was finally born with its big cheeks and webbed ankles, such devotion also extended to the conceived child. It was no secret how deep K'uk'ulkan's love was for his wife and child.

[whaddayadothatfor]

An Overwhelming Hunger

“You’ve had a stressful day, my love. What can I do for you?”

“I am hungry,” Namor replied, staring at you through his brow. “But not for food.”

—————————

Pairing: Reader x Namor

Summary: BP:WF complete AU (T’Challa isn’t dead and Namor didn’t kill the Queen) Namor has decided to attend peace talks with Wakanda to avoid war with the powerful nation. However, when frustrations towards his diplomatic mission grow, you decide to help him destress in the best way you know how. Namor, however, has other plans.

Warnings, content: fluff, smut, bondage, overstim, committed relationship, unedited

AN: Hey y’all! Just trying to get into the flow of things and see what works and what doesn’t. I hope y’all like it.

————————————————————————-

You had been here for hours. A pillow tucked underneath the small of your back, your hands tied to one of the posts on your headboard, and your panties stuffed in your mouth. The sheets underneath you were warm to the touch and soaked with your sweat. Your hair tussled from writhing against the sheets and makeup smudged from the tears streaming down your face, and you were sure you looked a mess. But you knew Namor only the saw your state of undress as the result of his handiwork.

You knew this because he had told you as much when you expressed discontent at how ridiculous you must’ve looked earlier. He reassured you that you were the most lovely woman in his Kingdom and any other. He made it clear that he wouldn’t stand to be challenged on his opinion by anyone, including you. Then he shoved your panties in your mouth and went back to working on your third orgasm on the night. That was two orgasms ago. You struggled to remember how you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Four hours ago

It all started because of politics. The root of all evil, in your opinion. Namor, in an effort to sustain peace and maintain security for his people, decided to meet with the royals of Wakanda to work on an alliance while you stayed home to guide and protect the Talokans in his stead. He did not expect that building an alliance would keep him away from you for days at a time. The Wakandan elders had been particularly headstrong and full of opinions, which slowed progress from time to time.

Namor, communicating through the advanced technology Shuri lent him that allowed him to video call you even miles under the sea, lamented at just how slow the progress was. He simply wasn’t used to being so far away from his people, from you. Not for so long. Unaccustomed to seeing your husband so stressed, you decided to spoil him when he returned. After all, the distance between you hadn’t only been hard on him. You missed your husband, in more ways than one.

You didn’t have to wait long to set your plan into action. Namor had sent word that there would be a seven day recess, so he’d be home by evening. You took the time to doll yourself up and wear the night gown he likes the most. It’s blue and adorned with Jade, a testament to how he loves to spoil you. You cover yourself with a long, flowy robe, the same blue color as your night gown, and tie the robe together with the matching belt with a neat little bow. Like a present to unwrap on Christmas morning.

While you wait for your lover to return home, you also prepare one of Namor’s favorite dishes to eat. It’s a simple dish — fish and rice, but you prepare it in the way his mother did and it reminds him of her. Namor strolls into the room, shoulders tense and his eyes tinged with annoyance. His eyes light up into appreciation at the sight of you.

He trails his eyes down your body, coming back up to stop at the necklace that rests just in between your breasts. It’s a small intricate gold and silver necklace that ties into a knot where the two metals meet. He gifted that necklace to you when you got engaged. For many, it’s a symbol of your union. For the two of you, it symbolizes his deep need to possess even the smallest part of you and to have others acknowledge that you belong to him. That your fate is tied to his for as long as you both live. You shudder at his lingering gaze and try to ignore the tingle that spreads from your core.

Today is not about you, you scold yourself. You should at least feed the man before you jump his bones. You were so busy chastising yourself that you missed the way his gaze darkened, his eyes full of desire and want. You did however notice the tenseness in his shoulders, and the way his mouth was set into a thin straight line.

“You’ve had a stressful day, my love. What can I do for you? I made your favorite in case you’d like to eat.”

“I am hungry,” Namor replied, staring at you through his brow. “But not for food.”

In a flash, he covered the distance between the both of you and covered his mouth with yours. He was an all-consuming force, like a whirpool, and you were a tiny sailboat adrift at sea. You had no way of overpowering him, but you didn’t want to. He picked you up and threw you on the bed. He took the soft satin belt from your robe and tied your hands to the one of the wooden posts of the headboard.

“The only thing I want is for my sweet, pretty wife to come from my tongue as many times as she can stand it. Do you think you can do that?”

Present

Namor moaned into your pussy, only taking a moment to lick up the remnants of the last orgasm you had that had dripped down your thighs. He sat up for a moment and massaged your thighs. You felt delirious.

“You’ve been so good for me, my Queen. Taking each and every thing I’ve offered,” he said. He rubbed his clothed dick all over your slick pussy.

“I bet you could take one more.”

[starshooter-1004]

Lullaby

ART IS NOT MINE!

Masterlist

@deliciousfestsalad

The midwives gently placed me into the water as my contractions got closer and stronger. They soothed me with words in Mayan as I squeezed their hands. Namor hadn’t arrive back yet, but I had a guard know to spread the word to him immediately. The guard placed a shell into the water after blowing into it. The pain was intense I let go of their hands to submerged myself beneath the water. 

Closing my eyes I let myself breathe the oxygen of the ocean; having the water caress me and my child.With a boom I felt Namor entering the water; soon he was at my back allowing me to lean into him. His hands on my stomach rubbing soothing circles as his whispered me soothing words. Soon the intensity came too ahead with long strong pushes our child was born. The midwife smiled placing the child into my arms; Namor’s hands holding my arms as my body relaxed. 

Our child was like anything I have seen before; beautiful amber eyes like me and dark skin from both myself and their father. They had pointed ears like Namor, but no feathers on their ankles. Namor kissed the crown of my head a sob escaped me; holding my child tighter to me. Exhaustion soon took over and I grew weak; in a change of clothes Namor lifted me from the waters. Our child still in my arms as he laid me down in bed; our child laying next to me wrapped in a blanket of green and blue. 

I heard a stir next to me sometime later that night; sleep had consumed me shortly after the delivery. I moved my hand to find our child and soothe them; when I felt an empty space my heart dropped. Quickly sitting up I heard a coo again looking to other side of the hut, There I saw Namor holding our child rocking and swaying. The child’s hands reaching for his face; its feet kicking as Namor hummed a lullaby.

I recognized the similar tune and laid back down smiling. Here the king with the most powerful nation crumbles to a child. I watched as Namor stood there with our child; taking in every moment with them as he could. I knew he would be busy tomorrow morning. I didn’t make much of a fuss about the child needing rest and allowed him to continue. 

Namor walked back over to the bed sitting up against the head board. I scooted over to place my head on his chest as his arm enveloped me; the other holding our child.

“You did wonderful Ni Yakunaj,” he whispered placing a kiss to my head. I smiled looking up at him kissing his lips.

“Thank you,” I said. Our child soon went back to sleep and Namor and I laid there in silence as we watched them sleep. How something so beautiful could be brought into this world truly is a miracle. I wouldn’t trade moments like this for the world; nor share it with anyone else.

[feyhunter78]

Healer's Flight

Description: Your would-be assassin picked the wrong beach to ambush you on.

Reader is an immortal mutant with healing powers.

It’s a beautiful beach, one with pristine sands, and cool breezes, the scent of sea salt on the air, and clear waters reflecting the stars that dotted the night sky. You loved this beach, held its location safe within your chest, nestled beside your heart.

Loved, past tense, because now you were afraid, feet digging into the sand as you ran, heart pounding against your chest like a war drum. You veered towards the water, one foot landing in the surf, your heart taking flight, but then he caught you, yanking you back by your hair.

“I said, stop fucking running.” He growled, his grip on your hair tight, pulling at your scalp, as his arms wrapped around you.

“Let me go, you Nazi bitch.” You fought against him, trying to break free of his hold, but it was useless. This wasn’t a normal low-level assassin, this was an enhanced.

His grip tightened on you, squeezing like a vice grip, and you felt your lungs began to stutter, unable to draw in oxygen.

Tears began to roll down your face, dripping onto his bare arm.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He cooed mockingly.

“You’re a monster.” You choked out, nails clawing at his skin.

“Me? I’m not the mutant freak. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”

You weren’t a threat to humans, you were a healer, all you did was lie low and try to help those who needed it. That’s all you had been doing for five hundred years.

“K’uk’ulkan.” You whimpered out, as your vision began to fade, hoping the gods would take mercy on you, and allow you a final vision of him before you died.

“Kool-la-what? Are you casting a spell on me, witch?” The assassin snarled, releasing his grip ever so slightly.

Your hand was free, and you gripped his arm, focusing on the spot where your skin connected.

He swore and dropped you, holding his arm close to his chest. There in the shape of your hand was decaying flesh, black and rotted.

You struggled to your knees, desperately sucking in air as your lungs seized. “Yes, I am.”

You weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

The assassin lunged at you, and you threw your body to the side, landing in the surf, hands glowing a bright gold.

You pushed the hair out of your face, tense and waiting for his next move, when you heard something whiz by you, then a solid thud. You looked up to see the assassin lying on his back, a spear imbedded in his chest.

Large warm hands pulled you to your feet. “In yakunaj, are you hurt?”

K’uk’ulkan’s low voice was a balm to your panicked mind, and your fingers found purchase in the bejeweled collar he wore, as you collapsed against him.

He scooped you up and brought you further onto the beach, settling on the sand with you in his lap. His hands smoothed back your wet hair, his eyes searching your face.

“I—my throat.” You coughed out, motioning to the mottled bruising that you were sure was already starting to appear.

He gently tilted your head up and hummed in displeasure. “He dared to put his hands upon you? I will throw his body to the sharks; I swear to you in reina.”

“They will fade, do not fret, my love.” You soothed, leaning into his touch.

K’uk’ulkan’s presence made you feel safe, as if no harm could befall you while he remained at your side.

“You are done with the surface world, they do not deserve you, and this has proved it.” He said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the corpse behind you.

“But there are people that need me.” You protested weakly, lightly running your fingers across your throat, speeding up your already enhanced healing ability.

He cupped your face, his warm brown eyes like amber flecked with gold, filled with sorrow. “They do not need you more than I do in yakunaj. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me.”

You melted under his gaze, the fight draining from your body, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “But who am I if not a healer?”

“You will still be a healer, my people injure themselves often, they are like children, stumbling over every loose stone in their path.” He gave you a weary smile along with his promise.

You smiled back at him, carding your fingers through his thick hair. “That is not true, your people are fearsome warriors.”

K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against yours. “What can I do to make you come home, and to stay? What must I give you to have my queen by my side?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in his warmth. It had been four hundred years of this, back and forth, stay or go, rule, or heal. You loved K’uk’ulkan more than anyone, anything, but you’d never been able to pry yourself from the grip of the surface world.

“You cannot buy my heart, you already have it.” You said, taking one of his hands and pressing it to your heart.

“But I do not. It sits in the hands of the surface dwellers, who crush it into a fine powder day after day, while I am helpless to watch.” His fingers curled, finding purchase in the fabric of your shirt, a desperate, pleading grasp.

“K’uk’ulkan…” You breathed, heartbreaking at the anguish in his voice.

“Y/N, you must return with me, if only so that I do not die of worry.” He pulled away and motioned to the corpse. “Look at what has happened, what if I had not been here—in yakunaj, you could have died.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were terrified, closer to death than you’d been in a long time. Maybe he was right, you could go with him, take care of his people, then return to the surface in a century or two and check on them.

“I will do it.” You said, closing your eyes, so he couldn’t see the tears of guilt welling up in them. How could you do this? Abandon all those who needed your help?

His thumbs wiped away the stray tears, and he brushed his lips across your forehead. “You will be happy there in reina, have faith in me.”

You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. “I do, but…”

He shook his head. “No, but, do not let your mind run rampant as it tends to do. You owe the surface world nothing.” His voice was steady, as he leaned down and captured your lips, the warmth of him soothing your worries, and making your head pleasantly fuzzy.

You looped your arms around his neck, head tilting to the side, to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coconut and sea salt, his skilled tongue stroking yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

He kept you pressed against him as he stood, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked into the surf, intent on keeping you safe forever.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66

[sunshinescribes]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This - 4

Part 4 of Continuum (FINALE)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Namor x Black Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have not denied you the pleasure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Such was the occurrence today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I will not return again. Not to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You said you wouldn’t come back."

Namor nodded.   "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

"What changed your mind?"

"Your king."

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

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

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

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

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

"And?"

"We came to an agreement," he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

"It seems an unfair trade," you contended.

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

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

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

"An impossible task," you joked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Apologizing."

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

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

"This does not feel like an apology."

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

So much for patience.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he insisted.

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

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

"You dreamed... of a child?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"K-K’uk’ulkan…"

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

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

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

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

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

"Your king will be expecting us soon."

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

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

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

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

TAGLIST: @artaxerxesthegreat @tb-bunnii @daddyslittlevillain