#wakandan oc

[xanderxciv]

The Onyx Raven(II) - X'Kamau

On Earth-052, X'Kamau lived a normal life. Born in Wakanda, but raised in America by his father X'Kei, because he didnt want his son to live in conflict like him & his wife, who was leading one side of said conflict.

Through 20 years, things were fine. The two lived in Maryland, X'Kei technological work took up alot of time, but still had time for son.

One evening, while the two were moving into a new home, police arrived. X'Kamau was in the house at the time, then a gunshot went off. He ran out & saw him dead. He was enraged, and unbeknownst to him, this nanotech suit started to connect with him.

They opened fire. He killed the person responsible. When scanning him, its revealed that he's an ex cop. Shouldn't have been on patrol, let alone giving orders to two other cops(Training Day-style), that X'Kamau cuffed shortly before.

He uploaded the camera footage from the cop car that recorded the whole thing, to the Internet. Vowing then and to the whole world & there to end all criminals, and proceeded to handle a gang shootout that was occurring. Before that, activated a protocol regarding the house & his father's corpse.

After the first night of patrol, he heads to a safehouse. But before that, went to an old friend of his father's, as part of the protocol. He'll handle his father's cremation.

X'Kamau knew that his father made incredible tech, and emergency protocols, but never knew about the suit. Named The Onyx Raven. In the safehouse, he places the helmet down & his father left behind holographic logs.

The suit was originally meant for him, built after realizing that crime, violence, conflicts cannot be ran away from. He studied Adamantimum & figured out a way to make such strong, yet light & non-toxic material. Calls it Element Kei(it can hold its own against Vibranium, but not win). If he were to die, Protocol 2 activates, and the armor recognizes his son & no one else. His final wish to him is that if he wants to walk the same path, then channel & focus anger, and never let vengeance consume him.

X'Kamau then hears other logs his father left behind. The knowledge of how Element Kei is made, is transferred into his head, so no one else have that information.

One log in particular involves that ex cop. During the 5-year period where half the Earth was Thanos'd, X'Kei didnt intend to kill criminals. He was working with the last good cop in the state, Detective Santos Rodriguez. He was looking to a crime ring led by 6 cops. He was later set-up & his murder looked like he was k.i.a. That's when X'Kei's view changed. Those 6 cops left the force shortly after, but still had authority & that grip was not only on the city, but the whole state of MD.

And so, X'Kamau intends to finish what they started. In one patrol when going after one of the 5 remaining ex cops, he met Rodriguez' daughter, Andrea. She knew her father was murdered by those 6 cops, but needed proof. The two settled on only bringing the leader of the crime ring alive, because without that grip, he doesnt have the Police Chief, Judges, the Mayor, etc., in his pocket.

A year later, things are quiet & X'Kamau visits a museum in Washington DC that showcases Wakandan history. He meets the Dora Milaje, and Queen Shuri(on this Earth, T'Challa fights alongside the Avengers, while Shuri handles things in Wakanda). Of course he's willing to turn himself in if Wakanda is concerned about the suit. Shuri was concerned, but the reason they were there, was because of another. X'Kamau's mother, Zosia, Queen of the Raven Tribe.

To Be Continued...

(Quick note, I wanted that Raven Tribe to be a Lion Tribe, but Wakanda actually has a lion tribe. So that idea's out).

The Onyx Raven suit is light, bulletproof, weather resistant, and considering the crazy things Wolverine survived, it can take nearly as much punishment. Or at least Mark I of the suit. It may rival Vibranium & Adamantium, but X'Kamau himself is still normal. No heart shaped herb to grant him powers...yet.

So if X'Kamau were to tank a strong energy blast, he'd live, but just be stunned for a bit. If he took some kind of nuclear blast, he'd live & be safe from radiation, but cant take the suit off until the decontamination process finishes.

He can use the nanotech to make weapons like knives & spears. But others may require a base. So if he holds a normal sword, and can merge Element Kei with it for the time being.

Element Kei has a reaction to velocity. So, if X'Kamau runs or flies at high speeds, the velocity from it can be used further strengthen him.

And when it comes to his skills, in his first patrol, logs in the helmet helped, but he quickly noticed that he already has some combat skill because his father trained him through the years & he didnt know it because said training involved what seemed to be normal ways of staying active, but were really Wakandan teachings. Teachings he honed in further training at the safehouse.

[joannasteez]

ME LOOKING UP AT NAMOR AND ATTUMA ^

you’re just so good at boxing deep emotions in a digestible manner, it flows and is so easy to read. this trio is gonna be so intense, im excited!!!!

Right as Right (2/5)

Namor x Wakandan Afab!OC x Attuma

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, Smut, Squirting, Hair pulling, P in V, Overstimulation, Impact play (slightly), Oral (fem), Polygamy. Wordy but worth it. Minors DNI

Authors note: soundtrack linked at the bottom.

Xahli met with Riri in the lab to discuss the new treaty Wakanda had with Talokan. In just two weeks time the teen had created a forcefield for Talokan. The nation would be hidden in plane sight and able to avoid intruders. Furthermore, any detection of vibranium in Talokan would be pretty much null now. This was the dead end for future colonizers. Talokan was finally safe and would not have to rehome themselves. While Riri prepared to make the journey to install the forcefield, Xahli had a day and a half to ponder on what exactly Namor meant.

She waited for Attuma by the shore in the same night gown she wore seeing Namor. Her assigned Dora’s knew not to sound the alarm at his arrival going forward. He stood there in front of her, dripping in water from head to toe. She looked at the way the water rippled down his muscles. She was very much attracted to him—-which wasn’t good at all. She was to marry one man, not two. She silently turned around and led him back inside. She made sure to lock the door behind them and instructed him to sit on the bed after she laid a towel down for him. He was damp but the material he wore was surprisingly absorbent.

“ I want answers”, her arms crossed with frustration. He blinks at her a few times but does not answer. Attuma had a habit of tuning things out.

“ Why do you do that fucking thing where you act like you don’t understand me? I know you understand me. Why is Namor acting like we met before? When we talked on the phone last night, he alluded to us having some sort of…past connection. I need to know the truth. Who did you mistake me for? ”

Still no answer.

“ Attuma.”

He looks out at her window. He’s ignoring her. He even crosses his big arms. She nearly gasped from his attitude.

“ Attuma, please….”. He clicks his translator on.

“ It is not my story to tell. This is not my duty”, says the robotic voice.

She got on her knees, kneeling between his spread legs. She placed her hands on either side of his thighs, looking up at him. She knows what she’s doing. She saw the way he looked at her tonight, she was nobody’s fool at how sheer the gown was.

“ Attuma…please”, she placed her hand on his stomach. He takes a deep inhale and snatches her wrist with his fist, gripping tightly. She gasps at his quick movement.

“ Do not do that. Do not suggest what I can’t have in front of my face. I know what game you are playing. He gave me direct orders”, he seethed. Even his translator’s voice was angry.

“ I’m not —.”

“ You think me ….a big dumb fool who can’t think for himself?! Easily swayed ?”, he throws her wrist back to her body and she stands up in offense.

“ You’re putting words in my mouth! ”,

“ Or do I speak what you cannot? I am leaving”, he stands up and begins to walk past her.

“ Attuma wait ”, she pulls his arm, hanging her body weight on him. It’s no use whatsoever. He continues to the door. She drops him arms, watching him walk out the door.

“ I feel connected to you!”, she rushes. He stops in her hallway.

“ I- when we’re close I feel something. I feel something with Namor and with you. I feel like I’m going crazy. I just want somebody to be honest with me. I don’t want riddles or hints. Just lay it on me. I can take it. I’m not a child”, she scolded. He turns to her but does not re-enter her room.

“ Just come sit please….I’m sorry”, she pouts. He sighs heavily and walks back over to his previous spot. God, this woman was running him ragged. There were a million other things he had to do, but here he was in Wakanda. He sits back down next to her and rests his elbows on his knees in a tired fashion.

“ Namor believes that you are his lost one. His betrothed…back again. Our fallen Queen who left us too soon. You look like her, sound like her and act like her in many ways. You are her—reborn. You are Queen Coaxoch. The serpent’s flower.”

“ What…”

“ Deep in Talkoan there is a statue of the Queen and Namor. There is artwork of her in various places. Look for yourself if you don’t believe me. You are a ghost come to life. A relic.”

It takes her a moment to fully process what he said.

“ And what about our connection ?”, she asks almost hopefully.

“ We were….close friends”, he says through gritted teeth. That wasn’t entirely true. Sure, they held a deep companionship but it wasn’t just that. Xahli looks at him as if she didn’t fully buy his lie. She pressed her palm to the side of his face, feeling the side of his mask. She wanted nothing more than to take it off and feel his mouth. He rested his hand on top of hers, staring up at her with a careful look. She pulled away and sat down on the floor in front of him, with her head in her hands. Now her connection to Talokan made sense. Of course she had Talokanil blood—because in some distant way she was connected with the Lost Queen. “ I can see the wheels turning in your head ”, he says.

“ I don’t know what Namor thinks he sees. What happens when he realizes that I’m a lifetime away from ever being like her? My name is Xahli and I was born in Wakanda. And yes I have lineage in Talokan but how much does that really matter ? I’m not a part of that world. Sure I look like her but we’re two different people”, she insists.

“ Whether you are actually her or not, he does not care. He will move the moon and stars to have you. Her death was too hard on him. Had he not found you sooner, Wakanda would be underwater.”

“ He likes the idea of me BEING her.”

I don’t think Namor is asking you to be someone you are not. I’m not asking you to be someone you are not. Just be Xahli and try your best to embrace Talokanil culture. Other than that, what more is there to do? ”, Attuma encouraged.

“ That’s some pretty sound advice for a guy with selective hearing ”, she snorted.

“ Selective hearing? My hearing is fine “, he insists.

“ It’s a phrase. It’s nothing”, she rolls her eyes, sitting down next to him on her bed.

“ Show me more of the strange devices in your room Princess Xahli “, he stands up now. Xahli follows and walks him over to a dresser where family pictures sat.

“ This is a picture of me and my siblings when we were little kids”, she hands him a picture frame.

“ This technology captures someone –like through the eyes ?”

“ Yes. It captures what we would call a picture the same way one’s eyes would. This picture was taken with a device called a camera. A camera lens takes all the light rays bouncing around and uses glass to redirect them to a single point, creating a picture. When all of those light rays meet back together on a digital camera sensor or a piece of film, they create a sharp image.”

“ Don’t you worry that a picture like this one…could steal your soul? Imagine if somebody got this picture and intended to do harm with it? Why not a painting or drawing to remember ? , he warned.

“ Hm, that’s an interesting point of view. I have heard of people using photos for spiritual work. I’ve even heard some people say that they don’t breathe in pictures for that very reason. Here on the surface, we use these photos to remember each other exactly how we were. I’ll never be that age again or look the same. This picture helps me remember that—it helps my family remember me like that too”, said Xahli.

“ I see. I wouldn’t do it myself but I see how it is useful. I have very few memories of myself as a child.”

“ This is a picture of my brother. This was right after he became the black panther.”

“ Ah. King T’challa?”

“ Yes.”

Attuma witnessed a reminiscent smile spread across her face as tears filled her eyes.

“ Yes, he was 30 years old here. Isn’t he so handsome? He was so happy this day”, she sniffled. Attuma paused and took a look at the singular tear that poured upon her cheek. She went to swipe it away in shame but he grabbed her hand before she could. He wiped her tears with his other hand. He inspected the water pouring on his finger tip. He found it interesting that surface people cried water. She stared up at him wildly as he pulled his mask off and rested it on her dresser, careful not to spill the water inside. He pulled her closer to him, leaned down and pressed his cool lips to hers. They molded to her like they’d been there before. He grunts as she pushes herself against him. He grabbed the back of her head and slipped his tongue into her mouth. A taste all too familiar to him. She’s just as sweet as he remembered. She moaned at how tightly he gripped her waist and she found herself being inched up his torso until her legs were around his waist. He walked her to her bed and they collapsed on it. His weight completely pinned her to the mattress as he continued to ravish her mouth with his. She wanted nothing more than to be pinned under him for all time at that moment. She moaned again, this time it was more needy. Desire pooled between her legs. Her body wanted her to finish something between them. His touch felt familiar, like an old song. The words were coming back to her.

He sucked her bottom lip until It was swollen. Their teeth clashed, she was panting and pulling at his armor. Suddenly he pulled away. He needed water again. He pulled away almost apologetically and walked back to her dresser. He carefully put it back on his face and took a deep inhale in. She’d completely forgotten about that barrier. That very obvious barrier between them. He panted in his mask for a few seconds as they stared at each other. Her dress was pushed up to her thighs just before her panties and her straps were off her shoulders. She adjusted herself and pulled her dress down frantically. What had she done?

“ We can’t - I’m sorry. We can’t do that again”, she began to pace.

“ I will not tell if you command it”, his voice is sad.

“ I command you then”, she says breathlessly.

“ Okay.”

She stops to look at him. She mindlessly touches her mouth. It felt too right to be wrong but how would she explain it? Namor didn’t deserve this. He was far too gentle, kind and understanding to be slighted this way. But then again does he care ? How would she know what he did when he went away? Either way it was morally wrong.

“ I will go princess”, he heads for the door.

“Attuma ”, she blurts out. He stops and looks over his shoulder at her.

“ I’m sorry if I’m —making any of this worse. And i’m sorry that i’m not her ”, she pleads.

“ There’s nothing to apologize for”, he says in English now—clearly. Her eyes widen in shock as he leaves out of her door.

————————————————————-

Xahli twirls in one of the dresses made for her. It was filled with feathers the color of corral. The bottom flowed while the top wrapped around her waist and torso, stopping just under her neck. This was one of 10 they’d made for her since her arrival. Three servants worked with her, helping her in and out of her dresses. Namor had a large mirror installed for her near her hammock. He listens from a distance, occasionally peeking out of his tent to watch the beauty.

“ Do you like this one ? ”she asked hopefully.

“ There isn’t a thing you can’t wear .”

“ You say that about everything.”

“ It is not my dress to choose. Only yours.” He chuckles at her expression. She rolls her eyes and turns back to the mirror. All of the dresses fit her perfectly, they were made for her after all. She decided she would pick the dress at the last minute to surprise Namor. After trying on a few more dresses her expression turns dull. Memories of Attuma come back to her. He could see her getting drained and sent the servants away.

Ever since she came back, she had a hard time maintaining her spark. Namor made her very happy but when her mind wondered she’d become so dull. He took notice of that. His shell picked up her conversation with Attuma. He wasn’t even trying to listen at first. He kept the device beside him as he slept but then he heard Attuma break the news. News that he informed him not to tell her quite yet. He didn’t want this transition to be hard for Xahli.

On one peculiar night, Namor returned to the cave late in the night to check on Xahli. She just so happened to be awake, dipping her feet in the cracks of water on the ground.

“ Hey”, she perked up seeing his face. He returned the same smile, happy they’ve gotten to a place where they were outwardly glad to see one another.

“ Can’t sleep?”

“ No. I think I might be anxious for the wedding.”

“ That’s expected.” Namor sits beside her, twiddling a water mask between his thumbs.

“ I never thought I’d get married.”

“ Why?”

“ I don’t know. For a long while my career was my sole focus. Sure there were other men who I cared for. I figured I was so blessed in other areas, that marriage wouldn’t make a difference in my life. If it happened I’d welcome it and If it didn’t then that was okay too. I never imagined this though.”

“ Is it a good thing or a bad thing ?”

“ Definitely not a bad thing. Knowing I have roots here makes it easier. If I concentrate really hard sometimes your traditions almost feel familiar. It’s nice.”

“ I’m happy to hear that. Namora was not sure if you’d be able to make the transition. She thought you’d be living the rest of your life in a cave. In her defense you do spend a lot of time here but you have another home. Another life where you choose what to do with it. I don’t want you to feel stuck .”

“ If anything it’s been an adventure.” Xahli nudged his arm playfully. He grinned.

“ Well then what’s one more adventure? ”, he hands her the mask.

“ Where are you taking me ? “, a smile slowly creeps on her face.

“ It’s a surprise.”

She takes the mask and fits it to her face, sealing it tightly to her skin. They walk to the opening of the cave and she holds onto him tightly, bracing for the cold water.

He glided through the ocean as easily as he breathed. He may have looked like a man but he might as well have been a fish. Xahli didn’t bother to open her eyes this time because she hated traveling in dark water. It was unlikely she’d be able to see anything in the first place. Him however, he could see like a cat in the night. A few minutes later they arrive on the coast of a beach. Namor holds her firmly as they both peek out of the water. He carefully guides her to the water’s edge.

“ Where are we? “

“ The Yucatán peninsula in Mexico. My mothers.” Xahli turned to the left and saw a giant North American pyramid in the dark. It was massive. It finally settled in for her just how ancient Namor was. He was history itself.

“ Wow. This is breathtaking. I mean how do people even build that sort of thing? I mean I KNOW they built it but to see it here now. It’s crazy to imagine.”

“ Yes it’s quite beautiful. Just never go inside. Not even I could protect you.” He picked her up bridal style and gently floated her to the edge of a cliff. In the distance she saw faint lights and smelled cooked meat. A little village of small brick homes sat in the distance. All around them sat fruit, jewelry, clothes, dolls and more. Anything could be an offering.

“ Is it okay for them to see you? Don’t you worry that somebody would try to harm you off ?”

“ They already have. These are their offerings to me. They’ve seen me before but they don’t hurt me. They couldn’t hurt me. They understand not to get close or speak to me.”

“ And do you ever take them? ”

“ The offerings? At times. Most times it is the gesture that counts. They could never truly give me something I don’t already have. Except maybe you of course.”

“ Am I your offering?”, she chuckled, only joking of course.He humors her.

“ Perhaps you are. Perhaps you are a peace offering from higher gods. Perhaps you were a bargain to soothe my wrathe for the surface world. A world I very much intended to destroy before I met you.” He smirked, picking up a pair of cloth pants and a shirt. A chill ran down her spine at the thought. Being with someone as powerful as Namor was incredibly intriguing and somewhat arousing. Though she wouldn’t admit it, the idea of her being an offering to an angry sea god? It was a deliciously sick thought she would keep tucked away for a rainy night.

“ Put this on. I’ll have to fly you to our next destination. I don’t want you getting sick.” Namor grabbed a pair of shorts and a cotton long sleeve shirt. He turned around to give her privacy and pulled the brown linen on. Xahli stripped from her wet clothes and pulled on the cotton set.. She grabbed a wool scarf and wrapped her hair in it.

“ Wait. It’s a doll of you “, she gasped and picked it up from the pile of offerings. She gushed about how cute it was.

“ They actually got you down pretty good. This person must have seen you. They gave you very long hair though. Yours is short.”

“ I used to have long hair down my back. I cut it once it got caught in the mouth of a sunfish.”

Xahli just smiled and tucked it into her pants pocket. She didn’t know if the doll would survive the trip back to Talokan, but she hoped for the best. Namor picked her up like nothing and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He took off into the sky, disappearing just behind the clouds.

“ Holy shit “, she sputtered nervously.

“ Hold on tightly”, he readjusted her until her arms were hooked under his arms and wrapped around his back. She might as well have been on a roller coaster or a jet. Namor was FAST and nimble. “ OH MY FUCKING GOD !”, she screamed into the night air. Her head wrapped nearly unraveled as he tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He nearly laughed as loud as she screamed.

“ What do you want me to do? Any slower and we won’t be back until the wedding”, he says. She wondered just where they were going. Xahli’s screams cracked through the night sky as her stomach dropped when she peaked to look out at the ground. Eventually she adjusted and quieted down. It was so peculiar knowing he was her life line, holding her body like nothing while tearing through the atmosphere. She rested her chin on his shoulder taking a few stabilizing breaths. She saw the tops of entire cities pass her by. Sky scrapers, villages, plains of grass and oceans zoom by her. She got particularly cold when they passed through the mountainous parts. They flew over Christ the redeemer and it finally gave her a clue to where they were. “ We’re in Rio?”, she gasped.

“ Almost there.”

Minutes later they land behind a tree line and walk out onto sand. Namor had taken her to Copacabana beach in Rio de Janeiro.

“ Wow. This place is beautiful”

“Brazil has beautiful beaches.”

Xahli watches children run around each other on the coast, splashing one another. Street vendors walked on the street with coconuts, fruit and fried finger food.

“ Namor you have no idea what you just did. I was so obsessed with Brazil as a child.”

“ Really. I just assumed you’d enjoy the view.”

“ No way this is condescending.“

“ Maybe it’s just our connection. ” Xahli shyly smiles, turning to the water. She gets closer to the shore and Namor watches her from about 6 feet away. She was truly beautiful. The view paled in comparison to her. The water tickles her toes as the sand brushes against the flat of her foot. She looks happy and he finally feels a completion that had been robbed from him for quite some time. They walk the shore slowly, enjoying the music coming from further in the city. Xahli noticed Namor’s hesitance to go further In land. He kept to the shore and so did she for a time. Not many people were on the beach. She makes a seat in the sand just before the water. It was hot with a cool breeze, the perfect temperature for him.

“You know you say things sometimes that are kind heavy.”

“ Like?”

She scoffs. “Like everything you’ve said since we’ve met. Or maybe what you said on the phone last week.”

“ Did it upset you?”

“ No.. you’re just intense sometimes that’s all.”

“ I can back off.”

“ Well…It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just..” she trails off unsure of how to express herself.

“ I know what Attuma told you and I know you have been wrestling with the thought in your mind ever since you found out. It’s why your smile fades so quickly. I brought you here in hopes that it would bring you some clarity–along with me answering any questions that you have about it “

“ Wait what. He told ? “, she snapped angrily.

“ No. I overheard the shell. I was not trying to listen but the shell picked it up and I could not turn away. I fear it works a little too well.”

“ oh…. Well in that case, yeah I have been a bit… confused.”

“ What do you want to know ?”

“ How did this happen? I mean how do you know for sure?”

“ When I said that I have seen people come back, I meant it. It’s hard to explain. It can’t be said if it’s them in a different form or perhaps the gods ran out of faces. What I do know is that the minute I saw you–I knew you. Even though you looked like her, your appearance did not affirm the truth, it was how I felt. I felt you from across the room.”

“ I felt something too. I was afraid—truthfully I thought you were using some sort of power on me. I thought your allure was a part of who you were. Maybe it was some sort of trap for outsiders. Why catch people trying to poke around Talokan when you can draw them to you.”

“ Talokanil has other ways to draw out the Verman from above. You’re thinking of mermaids.”

“ Are you not mermaids… technically?”

“ No. You’d better hope you never meet one. They’re quite vicious.”

“ Wow…”

They’re silent for a moment, just thinking to themselves and her eyes widen in realization. Namor had heard ALL of the conversation with Attuma. That meant the Kiss as well. She stills in fear. She’s betrayed his trust. She figured it would happen and she’d just put it behind her and never do it again but now he knew.

“ Namor…”

“ Clean slate. Don’t even mention it.”

“ But I did something very wrong. That wasn’t cool at all. I didn’t mean-“

“ Clean slate Xahli. Really. Don’t mention it.”

She tucks her lips into her mouth nervously. She read his face and he didn’t seem mad at all. He just seemed thoughtful. She’s embarrassed most of all. She looks at the side of his face, he’s unmoved by it. Still she doesn’t want him to get the wrong impression. “ I know you said drop it but I don’t want you to think that this is what marriage will be like. I’m not a sneaky person. I don’t plan on seeing other people unless that’s what you—I mean —I know we still don’t know each other so maybe that’s why you don’t care but I would never step outside of our agreement unless we talked about it and—“

“ Xahli, I’m not upset. Those types of trivial things mean nothing to me. Monogamy, sex, infidelity —people get so fickle when it comes to the premise of what a relationship should be. An agreement is an agreement and we haven’t established what our relationship will look like yet. There is no bad blood between us. I’m far too old to argue about such things.”

“ Well. If I saw you kissing another woman I’m not sure how I’d react.”

“ You won’t see me kissing another woman.”

“ But you could. If we have not discussed the terms of our marriage, you could do whatever you wanted because you never promised me monogamy ”

“ I have no desire to do that”, his tone raises in annoyance. Xahli isn’t convinced by his calm demeanor.

“ What do you desire then? Hm?”

“ You. I desire you…Xahli.”

Her breath is caught for a moment as she looks at his longing expression.

“ Sometimes I am confused if I should refer to you and her as the same person. In my heart I believe that you were once her. I have been without you for so long. I have driven myself into madness in your absence for so long that I will have you anyway I can. Even if it’s just by the touch of your hand. Or the brush of my finger against your cheek. Or even the sight of you. Knowing you’re there is enough. If you decided that our marriage was strictly a friendship, then I would have to respect that wish. Not only because you left your world to be part of mine, but because I respect your decisions. I thought I made it clear, anything you want is yours. You may have anything your heart desires as long as you agree to be my Queen.”

Xahli’s chest burns at his confession. She’d never felt wanted that way before. The way he looks at her….it’s not human. It’s unnatural to be longed for so badly. Or maybe she just never truly understood what it meant to be wanted in that way. Most importantly she felt seen. She doesn’t have time to think about her actions. She collapses into his mouth, falling into his chest and wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. Their kiss is urgent and rough. He collapses into the sand until she’s straddling him, tasting his mouth and tongue. She leaves not a single inch of his mouth explored and he lets her, remaining an anchor for her as she fulfills her own desires. She pulled away just barely, hovering her face closely over his. She notices a chuckle from far away and sees two old women giggling at them. Her face drops in annoyance and she pulled away embarrassed.

“ We…should probably get up, we look crazy..” Xahli grabs his hand and pulls him up to his feet. From a distance a man pushing a food cart called out to the few people on the beach. He had warm food left over and was done selling for the day. It was free of charge. Xahli pulls Namor in the direction of the man but he stays behind at the shore, not wanting to mingle with any more surface people than he had to.

Xahli approached the man and he gave her 2 free Coxinha, and 2 Pão de queijo. He even topped her off with a Brazilian limeade. She thanked the man and ran back to the shore. Namor tried the Coxinha and claimed that it was just okay but far too greasy. She insisted he wash it down with limeade and he claimed it was too sweet. She pulled away the straw with a deadpan expression.

“ I am not impressed with this surface food so far.”

“ You’re just biased. One of these days I must cook for you. Then you will see surface people are good for something”, she chuckled. He rolls his eyes for the first time and she laughs at the sight. They continued to walk the shore until nobody was around. Eventually they left and he got Xahli back to the cave before sunrise.

———————————————————————-

The Yucatán peninsula is the ancestral home of Namor’s mother. This is where they would tie the knot. Xahli was an absolute vision to Namor. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a large braid at the back of her head, wrapped around itself. Two thin braids framed her face in a loop on either side of her head. She decorated her braids in jade and gold hair jewelry and it matched her gold and green dress. In fact, Jade had become a huge part of dress because she was covered in it from head to toe. She wore jade and gold neck pieces, jade cuffs and jade anklets. Her colors were the colors of Talokan, the top was a chiffon like material that hugged and flowed down her body like water. It clung to her wet and nearly sheer. The torso part of the gown exposed her stomach and some of her cleavage. Her skin was glowing and complimented the gold accents throughout the dress. She looked every part of the Queen she was.

She sat on her knees across from him on the sacred marital blanket that was sewn for this night. The Shaman, named Eztli, stood in front of them while praying over his wife, tapping each side of her shoulders with burning herbs as he blessed her health and her life. Most importantly, her heart. As the shaman continued to venerate and bless their union, Namor and Xahli’s eyes met. He can tell she’s nervous and reaches out his hand to squeeze reassurance into her. She lets out an audible sigh of relief. The shaman moved onto Namor, blessing him as well. She realizes that this ceremony was nothing like the weddings of today’s time. In fact, most of the ceremony consisted of the union being blessed and warding off bad energy, sickness, hatred and bad luck. This ceremony also took place at night and outside.The beach was lit up with torches and decorated in flowers. Xahli’s of course can’t understand the shaman but Namor made sure to direct her accordingly.

Robes are draped around them and the shaman ties each end of the robes together, making a knot. The knot signified their connection and he prayed over that knot as well. Eztli reaches down to her bare stomach and blessed her womb briefly. The shaman then presents them with a bowl of a maroon colored paste. Namor dips his hands into the paste and takes her hands into his, saturating her hands in the bowl. He massaged the paste into her skin and it thickened in consistency. She could tell that it was clay. Namor then took two of his clay soaked fingers and rubbed it down both of her cheeks, down her chin and across her forehead.

“ This clay venerates our fallen ancestors. It represents their blood and eternal life. This is your protection. We ask the Gods and our ancestors to accept this union as true.” Namor saturates his hand again and gently smears it all on her exposed stomach. The paste goes on cool and then dries warm. His eyes never left hers as he massaged her stomach with his hand. He’d never touched her there before. The act in itself was intimate enough for her to blink away. She watches his hand completely cover her stomach, forming a perfect circle.

“Now it is your turn”, he says. Wiping his hand on a towel that laid beside him. The paste still stained his skin, much like henna or tumeric. Xahli hesitantly dips her hands in the clay and paints on his skin, following the exact same pattern she felt on her own. He watches her with pride, grateful for her dedication to their customs. She never once questioned the validity of a single tradition. She belonged here.

Etzli was pleased and he announced their marriage as legitimate. Only 200 Talokanil people stood in the distance with their masks on tight. In the distance she could see Attuma and Namora as well. She had no time to focus on the distractions of Attuma, this was their day. Namor explained that wedding ceremonies themselves were not a public display for all of Talokan. It’s only after their arrival and the announcement of the matrimony, would there be a celebration. She would re-enter Talokan as his bride.

Xahli is pulled to Namor in a burning kiss. Her hands rested on either side of his head as she hummed into his mouth with delight. It begins to pour rain and even thunder. It startled Xahli at first but Namor was proud. Their marriage was blessed by Chaak, the god of rain and abundance. This was a sign that this marriage would strengthen and bless Talokanil. Talokan bystanders begin a ceremonial hoot as they praise Chaak for the rain. Everytime Xahli pulls away Namor pulls her back to his lips. They let the rain wash them as their audience sang.

Yuumtsilo'ob ku betiko'ob k'áaxal bendiciones yóok'ol Talokan. ( Gods rain blessings on Talokan)

——————————————————————

Xahli barely had time to change out of her dress before Namora came to her hammock to retrieve her. There was a change in Namora. Her guard was down for Xahli and was seemingly accepting of their union entirely. Any doubts she had of the girl changed once Chaak immediately blessed their marriage. Namor had beaten Xahli r to the festivities because she wanted a break from the crowd for a bit. He sent Namora to get her “ Holy shit.” Xahli gawked at the dolphin race taking place in the open space of Talokan. Everyone was dressed up in their best attire. She’d never seen Talokanil this busy. The amount of people who lived in the nation was insurmountable now. There were people coming in droves from different cities. She could see by their attire that they had different jobs and ways of living than the farmers in the capital. There were also a lot more children in Talokan than she had guessed. Many of them sat around elders listening to stories and tales. Some people danced with each other or played instruments like drums and string like instruments with sound that somehow traveled through the water.

Dancers dressed up in costumes made of feathers and fish fins twirled around in celebration, representing Aztec gods. It reminded her of the Kompo dance she witnessed in other parts of her continent. The man in the costume danced around and she was consumed by giggles. Namora pulled her deeper into the crowd. They took a deep dive into the city and it took about five minutes for them to reach Namor’s real home. It was a pyramid.

And at the very front of that gigantic pyramid, sat a statue of Namor on the far left of the steps to the entrance. To the far right sat his first wife. Xahli froze in astonishment, it was like looking in the mirror. The statue’s expression was neutral but stern. She seemed like a fierce woman with her hair in long twists that reached her knees. They even etched in her jewelry and her gold bracelets that she stacked up and down her arms and legs. She didn’t realize how long she had zoned out until Namora appeared at the top of the pyramid, waving to her. Her and Namora met her at the entrance and Namor guided them into his home.

“ The pressure is the heaviest here. I can feel it.”

“ We are truly at the ground level of Talokan. If it begins to bother you let me know and I will take you back up.”

The decor on the inside of his home was similar to his tent. Colorful and filled with art and warmth. There were many stone appliances and most of the house was illuminated with a light source she couldn’t quite figure out. It couldn’t have been fire, otherwise it would burn out. Namor and Namora have an elegance to them as they cut through the water like they’re walking on land. They took each step into their house like gravity held them to it, while Xahli had to hold the walls to keep from touching the ceiling. She chuckled at how crazy she must look.

They entered a great hall that sprouted off into different rooms. She noticed Namor didn’t have a staircase so instead the great hall was open enough to show the second, third and fourth floor of the palace/pyramid that came to a point. Xahli was straggling behind, gawking at the architecture. There was a huge statue of his first love in the great hall next to an underwater waterfall that poured from the opening of the pyramid.

“ I’ll let you look around. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done. It’s the 6th door on your right ”, He said. He departed with Namora. Now that she noticed, a lot of the art work in his house centered around his lost one.. Her figure, her smile…her everything. This palace was his shrine to her and not in a creepy way but rather a grieving way. He worshiped her even after her death. As she explored deeper she came across a room that undeniably had a woman’s touch. This must have been her room. She shifted a curtain to find an array of colorful gowns beaded with all kinds of crystals and jewels. At the top of the wardrobe sat a headdress with feathers much like the one she’d seen Namor wear. She grazed the tips of the feathers with her fingers before she picked it up. It was completely red which she found interesting because it was the opposite of Namor’s. It was decked out in rubies and gold with a serpent at the very front of it. She puts the head piece back in its place and turns to leave the room until something catches her eye. It was a picture—an actual framed photo.

The picture was incredibly old, dating back to the 1920’s. The first thing that stood out to her was Namor’s hair. It was curly and tousled down to his chest and back. He wore the same septum but his neck piece was missing. He wore long slacks instead of his shorts. When her eyes moved to the woman in the photo, she froze. It made this all the more real. Statues made from stone and cement were one thing but this was different. It was like she was staring at a memory from a dream. A memory she couldn’t remember at all.

The woman’s hair was long and pulled back and she too wore a septum with exaggerated stretched lobes. She wore a bralette and a low hanging skirt. She was staring right into the camera with a stern expression. A fear comes over Xahli that she hadn’t experienced before. An overwhelming sense of doom filled her veins and she dropped the frame onto the table before rushing out of the room.

“ I want to go now. Namor. Namor ! “, Namor swims out of the kitchen with a look of concern on his face.

“ What? What’s wrong In reina ( My Queen) ?”

“ I want to go now.”

“ Oh—okay. Uh…we’ll go now but what’s the matter ? Are you feeling okay ?”

“ I’m fine, please just take me back”, she rushed.

Namor pulled her to him and quickly shot them both out of the opening of the waterfall. He took the quickest route back to the cave he could find. Xahli was tearing at her suit when she got back to his sanctuary. He helped her unbuckle the suit as her hands were far too shaky to aid her. She was panting heavily.

“ I can’t fucking breathe in that suit.”

“ It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He soothes her as he pulls the helmet off her head.

Her heart is beating so fast that she can feel it in her head and ears. She can’t catch her breath and she peels out of her clothes down to her shirt and underwear.

“ Tell me what is wrong.”

“ I can’t fuckin’ do it.”

“ Do what ? Do what ?”

“ This —I’m not her. I can’t fill what’s missing for you Namor. You had a whole life with this woman…dreams. I can’t even fucking spend the night in your bed for god sake. And I can’t help but to think about my own mortality. You’re 500 years old! What happens to me when I’m too old to bare your children. When I don’t look how I look now? When I can barely walk. What if I don’t even make it to old age ? What if I can’t lead like her ? What if I can’t —“

“ Xahli stop. Take a deep breathe”, Namor slowly approaches her with his hands out. She’s too frantic, pacing back and forth.

“ What happens when I’m gone just as soon as she was ? I won’t live a long life—-not even as long as a true Talokanil person. I’m only hurting you, AGAIN.”

“ Xahli.” He closed in on her and rested his hands on her shoulders, keeping her in place. He places a hand on her chest and demonstrates a deep breathe. She eventually follows suit, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling out her mouth. It takes her a good two minutes before she finally starts to settle. He rests his hands on either side her face. Her lip in trembling as he reassures her quietly.

“ What did you see in there that made you so upset ? “

“ I saw her photo. I saw all her things but the photo just fucked me up. I don’t want to die.” Her face breaks up into tears.

“ You’re not going to die.”

“ You don’t know that.”

“ I do.”

“ I’m not sure I was supposed to see that photo. Maybe it’s defying the laws of the universe or something I don’t know.”

“ You’re fine Xahli. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“ How can you say that knowing I’ll grow old and you won’t ? How ?!”

“ Because the choice is up to you.”

“ What?”

“ I didn’t want to have this conversation with you yet. I didn’t want it to happen this way. I told myself that if I found you again I would find a way to keep you forever. I couldn’t handle the thought of losing you a second time.”

“ What are you saying Namor?”

“ Do you remember when we were on the beach and I said that if you had Talokan lineage that over time you would adapt ?”

“ Yes.”

“ Years ago my shaman had a prophetic dream. He told me you would return to me somehow. The details of where you’d come from or how you would return remained vague. He presented me with a similar medicine as my ancestors. It would give you the ability to breathe water and air and shield you from sickness and death. That’s when I knew you’d come from the surface. I didn’t believe him entirely at first. If you were born on the surface then there was a good chance we would never meet but we did. I told myself I would let you make that decision. The weight of immortality is a heavy burden to carry Xahli. Only Chaak knows if you’ll even like me in the next 100 years. Marriage can be rocky, people evolve. I’ve done horrible things. I tested his serum on people. I was blinded by my grief. Truthfully I’m not sure my first wife would be proud of the man I am now. I wasn’t as scorned when I met her. “, Her tear stained face softened as she looked at him. He continues.

“But over time I lost hope that I’d find you. I had responsibilities and the risk of Talokan being found increased greatly. I’m not the same man I was before. I figured that even if I found you—-you wouldn’t want me. I was far too cruel—”

“ I do want you”, she rushed out urgently. He paused hesitantly.

“ And I’m tired of feeling guilty about it. I want you, Namor. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my whole entire life.” Namor stilled at her words and she barely had time to get her thoughts in order before he was on her. Their mouths were at war with one another, struggling for dominance. His hands held her face as he pulled away from their kiss.

“ Say that…again”, his eyes darken just as much as his tone.

“ Say what “, she watched his mouth frantically. She was grasping at his skin and clothes .

“ You wanting me. Say it”, his calm nature quickly morphed into something far more dominant. A dominance that she had only seen glimpses of before.

“ I- I want ..you”, she pushed out.

“ Again”, he gruffed.

“ I want yo—”, she whispered. His mouth slammed back onto hers as she felt her back being pushed into a wall. He’s flat against her, mouth to mouth. She can feel his erection press into her lower stomach. She gasped into his kiss, tearing at his armor. His forehead remained on hers.

“ You know I find it a little unfair that I learned how to say your name but you never learned how to say mine. That’s what you’d call unfair, no?” Only the then fabric of her underwear kept a barrier between them. He was pressing himself in her crotch and her eyes nearly rolled from the friction.

“ Unless you think I’m your enemy calling me Namor all the time?”

“ No!”

“ No ?” He tilts his head at her before pressing his mouth to her neck. Her stomach drops.

“ I’m sorry.” She panted. She looked up at him to check if he was actually upset. A small evil grin spread across his face.

“ No need to apologize. You will learn it tonight.”

———————————————————————-

She’s picked up and pushed inside of the tent. Her back meets a soft surface and that’s when she realizes he got her a bed.

“ When did this happen ?”

“ Attuma told me that you missed your bed so we had one made and stuffed.”

“ Oh this is so nic—“

She barely had time to finish her sentence before he pulled her to the end of the mattress and parted her leg with his own body. Their lips connected again and they drank their fill of each other. Xahli clawed at his shorts but he didn’t let her have her way quite yet. Instead he took off his neck piece and threw it on the table beside them. She wiggled to get her shirt off and he pulled it off her, throwing it behind him without regard. Now the only thing left was her sports bra. He pushed it down to her hips watching the way her breast popped out from behind the material. She halted her movements, waiting for his reaction. He was just as still as her, taking them in and raking his eyes up and down her body. He carefully leans down and kisses her clavicle all the way down to the middle of her chest. She gushes with relief when his mouth wraps around the peaks of her breast. He sucks the bud into his mouth alternating between the left and the right. He’s incredibly gentle with her, not even wanting to knick her with his teeth. He pulls away massaging both her breasts in his hands. She tucks in her bottom life, trying to dampen the impatience she felt. His hands roamed down the sides of her body ever so softly, before they stopped at the rim of her panties. She begins to squirm, ready for him to take them off already. She was uncomfortably wet and sticking to the fabric. He pulled one side down and then looked up at her. “ Do it,” she urged quietly.

Her voice was filled with desire and restlessness. He just wanted to be sure that she still wanted this. With her permission he hooked both sides of the fabric and pulled her panties down with her sports bra, letting the fabric topple off the edge of the bed. There she laid in front of him, completely bare and waiting. He lost himself in the sight of her, roaming his eyes over her frame over and over again.

“ You’re still dressed”, she sat up and pulled at his pants. He pulled them down to his knees and his length flicked out, hitting him in the belly button. She gasps to herself at the sheer length. He was not only well endowed but he had the most dramatic upward curve. She shivered knowing just what it would reach inside of her. It was slightly darker than him with a deep mauve tip and veins that etched themselves across the top of his length. The underside had a thick vein that ran to the top of the head. He was uncircumcised, and very lightly trimmed. He no doubt took care of himself which was even more of a turn on. She grabbed him in her hand and she could feel his pulse. She looked up through her lashes at him as she spat on him and began to stroke him. His jaw twitches at her expression and she smirks, wonder if he wanted her mouth on him as much as she did.

Something snapped inside of him when he saw her tongue snake out past her lips, attempting to taste the pearl of release at the tip of him. Before she could even taste him, he pushed her back onto her back and pinned her knees to her chest. He could not wait a moment longer to taste her and so he did, dragging his tongue in a single swipe through her folds to catch every drop of arousal that stuck to her. They both moaned at the intrusion. Her taste was like static electricity on his tongue, bright and alluring, yet warm. He did not realize how thirsty he’d been all these years until he got a drink of her. He couldn’t stop himself.

“ Fuck!”, she spat. Her face was downturned into a permanent pout as he lapped on the mess of her inner thighs. He cleaned her of her arousal thoroughly, before heading straight for her target, her clit. He sucked on it firmly and exhaled a long hard breath.

“ Namor….” His false name spilled from her lips and she immediately regretted it when he hummed into her and slapped the side of her hip. The sting made her hiss and jerk away from him, he kept her locked in place.

He opened her legs to see her, still keeping his hands under her knees to keep her secure. She looked down to watch the way he moved his tongue across her skin. He extends his tongue and fucks her opening, filling her with it completely. Her eyes roll back and she collapses back onto the bed, taking full gulps of air. He gets messy, taking his lips and swiping them up and down her folds, coating himself in her. He laps at her at her clit, watching for her reactions.

“ Just like that …please Namor”, she whimpered. He slapped her thigh again and pulled away. She gasped at the impact, sitting up on her elbows.

“ You will address me by my name or I will show you why they call me Namor.”

“ I can’t remember h-how to say it.” She whined. He takes his long and nimble middle finger and dips it into his mouth before he slowly inserts it into her. Her head lull’s back between her shoulders as she cried out for him between curses. He twists it upwards and adds another.

“ God your fingers are so long”, she whimpered. She couldn’t control her eyeballs. They rolled back into her skull every time he gently jerked his fingers upwards. She holds onto his wrists for leverage while he slowly nudges the pad of her Gspot. She moves her hips with his hand, pushing her hand up to his shoulder. He connects his mouth back to her clit and sucks slightly firmer than last time which causes her to yelp. Her fingers dig into his scalp. His tongue was lapping at her eagerly and sloppily. He was messy, not caring about getting her in his mustache or beard. She mewled as she moved with his mouth. He took that as a signal to speed up his fingers and that earned another loud pitiful whimper from hert. She held her breath in anticipation. She was close and he could feel it. His tongue never left her clit, slurping and flicking it with haste.

“ Oohh”, she wrapped her hand around his wrist again as her whimpers and moans quiet down to small hiccups. She was nearly on the precipice, bracing herself for a release that hadn’t quite felt like her others. Her squeeze shut and her body begins to tense up.

“ Look at me”, he commanded. He held the back of her neck, forcing her in a half up position.

“ I can’t—I’m gonna—- fuck wait !”, she panicked. Namor kept his thumb on her clit, swirling it in circular motions. His other fingers persistently nudged her spot. His eyes never left hers. This was her undoing. Not a moment sooner, what feels like a balloon of pleasure pops and she gushes on his fingers, arm and chest. She bends away but he keeps her contained within the hand on the back of her neck. He doesn’t slow his ministrations until she’s finished spouting. She swats at his wrist and he pulls his fingers away from her.

She looks at him wide eyed and winded, not completely convinced at what just happened. He sucks his fingers thoroughly and leans down to lick her coated thighs and center. He lifted up to see her glossy, glazed over eyes that quite hadn’t left him yet.

“ Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be able to go a day without you on my tongue”, his hands trailed up her body. She’s looking up at the opening of his tent, still dazed from her orgasm.

“ Xahli ?” He called her name. She looked at him with that same shocked and aloof expression.

“ Xahli”

“Mm?”, she smiled, high on post-coital bliss.

“ Are you okay?”

“Huh—-oh I’m fine”, she sat up, reaching for his length drunkenly. Before she could even wrap her hand around him he had her on her back again.

“ I must be inside you. I can’t wait any longer.” He Immediately positioned himself between her legs. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other grips the bed sheet in anticipation. He slowly but surely pushes through her barrier. She was fully ready for him, wet with no resistance whatsoever. Xahli gasps at the intrusion, trying her hardest to relax her muscles to accommodate him. It’s been years since she had sex and her job didn’t allow her time to fulfill her own desires often. The most she had time for was usually her hand, no thanks to her early mornings. He’s sizable but not impossible, though he had to be the most impressive she’s ever had.

He kisses her as he begins to push in and out of her body. He remains nearly nose to nose with her, paying close attention to every expresion and whimper she makes. The more he angles his hips up, the more her face crumbles into a pout. His curve nearly magnetic to the spot, anchoring itself into her in the most perfect angle.

“ Is it there ? Is that where you want it ?”

“ Yesyesyesyes—”, she choked out. Her body couldn’t help but to squeeze and suck him into her everytime he drew out. He winced at the way her body constricted him, forcing his way in and out. He burrowed his face into her neck, sucking on her skin. She tried her hardest not to sink her nails into his flesh but when he’d swirl his hips her nails bit his skin. He was learning her entirely and while he had plenty of experience, every woman was different. There was few things he started to notice about her. Second to her clit, her neck and ears were probably the most sensitive place on her body. Every time he nipped, kissed or sucked those area she’s would desperately choke back a sob. He bit her more times than he probably should have but she didn’t seem to mind. When his mouth touched her ear it made her scratch him, which only made him drive himself deeper.

“ I want to see us”, she said. He lifts off of her to sit on his calf. He pulls out to his tip and she lifts her head to watch him slowly push in and out. A ring of her arousal soaked him at the base of his length. The echo of the cave only magnified the sound of her arousal.

He would slowly pull himself all the way out and then push right back inside. They both watch, drunk on pleasure. Her hands travel down his chiseled stomach and chest, addicted to the way his skin felt against her touch.

“ I’m not made of glass”, she whispered to him. He looked at her, asessing the state of her body.

“ Are you sure?” He grins because she’s clearly frustrated and in the mood to be wrecked.

“ Say it”, he taunts as he strokes into her.

“ Fuck me please”, she spat. He placed her knees into the cup of his elbows and began to rocket himself into her, picking up his pace and depth. Her mouth fell open in a strangled cry as he put weight behind his thrusts. The bed began to move as she held onto his shoulders for leverage.

“ Just like that. Just like like that yes !!” Her eyes roll back as a familiar pressure fills her. She barely lasts two minutes into his brutal pace before she cums around him. He does stop, forcing her to ride out her orgasm until the bitter end. She tries with her might to bite back her volume but she ends up screaming at the top of her lungs. She collapses onto the bed writhing from the over sensitivity. Instead of relieving her, he prolongs her release by rubbing her clit. There are tears in her eyes but not the kind from sadness. She hisses and pushes his hand away, trying to regain her composure. She pushes against his stomach and he halts momentarily. She is trying to catch her breathe, but is way too prideful to ask for a break.

“ Look at how wet you are. Táan a ch'aaj ti’ teen. (You are dripping off of me)”.

“ And yet I still can’t seem to remember your name.” She pants. She teasingly smirked at him. To her surprise she was flipped on her stomach. Namor laid flat on top of her, his mouth to her ear. She knew she was barking up the wrong tree. This man had the strength of 1,000 men and she kept begging for more and more. Eventually he’d hit a wall, figuratively or literally.

“ You have a concerning amount of trust in a man who’s not spilled his seed into a woman in almost 100 years. Have the orgasms gone to you’re head or are you just not that bright. A'aten (tell me).” She didn’t say a thing but rather bit her lip in anticipation. She pushes her ass into his crotch, trying to get some friction going between the two of them.

“ Nothing to say?” He pulled the back of her hair with his fist which took her by surprise. She winced at the force in his grip. Still she said nothing.

“ It is pronounced K'uk'ulkan. I’ll stop when you say it right.” He sat up on his knees and forced her onto her side. She fully expected to be taken from behind but he had other plans from her. He laid behind/beside her, holding her leg open and etching his palm into the back of her head, keeping her head upright, her chin to her chest. She would be getting a front row seat to the sight below her. His starting pace was brutal. Everytime he pushed into her heat, words formed on her tongue but would crumble away from every gust of air that left her mouth.

She can’t get her bearings, she can’t ground herself. He has torn her from any real head start. With eyes permanently stuck in the back of her head, he whispers his name into her ear tauntingly. It didn’t take long for her to find her release again. And despite the force of the orgasm that nearly pushed him out of her, he kept going. Devastating cries fell from her lips as her nails dug into his hip, his side, his hands and even the side of his face. Nothing deterred him. Not even the cries of pleasure as she claimed it was too much. “That’s quite the point my love”, he’d chuckle as he ruined her.

Not to mention, she was stammering over her words like her jaw turned to jelly. Whenever she’d come close to saying his name she’d fail.

“ Ku—AH!“

“ Kaaahh-FUCK”

“ k-k—-ahhh!!”

“ Kuk—-ohhmm”

Everytime she’d climb the mountain to freedom, his tip would magically brush against her Gspot and she’d crumble to the bottom. A challenge so simple, yet impossible. He had amazing stamina and didn’t fall to his own release no matter how many times she came around him. What she wanted howhere is real relief.

There was a knot in her stomach. That infamous ballon of pleasure was begging to be popped but he refused her clitoral stimulation to do so. He was toying with her until he got what he wanted. He’d kiss her silent, swallowing her cries and wails just for the fun of it.

“ kukulkan ”, she said but with the wrong pronunciation. She likely would have been able to say it had she not been pleasure drunk.

“ Not quite Lool (flower).”

“ You’re trying to kill me “, she panted, still not quite satisfied from her last orgasm but still overworked.

“ No. I only desire to give you pleasure. Does this feel like a man who’s trying to kill you?”, he reached down to her clit as he nudged into her deep spot.

“ No no no”, she shove her head, whispering weakly.

“ What shall it be?”

“ I give up”, she whined.

He was satisfied with that answer and began to vigorously rub her clit, while working where she needed him most. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for the massive orgasm that she knew would be her ruin. Only a few more nudges into her and the floodgates broke. She exhaled in horrific grunt that trickled off into a ear ringing scream as she soaked everything below her including his thighs, his length and the new mattress. The release knocked her dizzy and he came right after, grunting, spilling his seed deep inside her and on her. She figured he wasn’t lying about how long it’s been because he made a complete mess in between her legs.

They both lay there for a moment. She’s drenched in sweat and the release that belongs to the both of them. She tries to catch her breath and though he’s not winded, he’s fucked out. “ Well, now I certainly know why they call you NAmor . If not for the way you slay your enemies , then for your iron cock.”

He just chuckles. Before he was married, he had his fair share of lovers. She notices how hoarse her laugh is.

“ I think I may have blown out my voice”, she sighed.

“ I can bring you tea”

“ Maybe after I wake up.”

He leaves and comes back with a wet warm towel and cleans her up. He rejoined her in bed, pulling her into his side. They stare at one another in wonder. She hadn’t expected her first time with him to be that good. First time partners usually had to learn each other’s bodies. He knew exactly what she needed.

“ You’re so beautiful”, he said lowly. He rubs his thumb across her bottom lip. He’d given her far too many kisses, to the point that her mouth was slightly puffy. He couldn’t stop himself. He went in for another kiss and she happily allowed it, too blissed out care of the rosy tone they took from his mouth.

“ You are too.”

“ I wasn’t too hard was I ? “, he asked.

“ Please. It wasn’t my first rodeo with a dick”, she laughed.

“ I’m gonna’ assume that’s some weird surface saying. I’m also going to assume you mean you’ve done that before”, he chuckled.

“ Yes. Though, not anything like that. Maybe it’s your god powers or whatever but I don’t usually…cum in a continuous stream for minutes on end like that.”

“ Welcome to your new normal then.”

“ Okay”, she smiled sleepliy. She let out a loud yawn.

“ You’re tired?”

“Very ”

“ Sleep, go ahead. I’ll stay ”

“ You sure? You know you don’t have to stay. I’m sure you’re missing the party.”

“ That party will be going on in intervals for the next 4 days. There will be plenty of time to celebrate.”

“ Okay”, she said sleepily. The thought of their conversation before this crosses her mind.

“ I’ll do it.”

“ Do what?”

“ Take the herb. To stay here.”

“ You don’t have to make that decision yet. Not right now at least.“

“ I know I don’t but with the dick you just gave me? Yeah ..we can work some things out”, she snorted.

“ I’m serious Xahli. This life —-it’s hard. It’s hard to stay grounded. You could go insane.”

“ I’m just saying….my answer will still probably be yes once you bring it up again.”

He shakes his head at her stubbornness. All the qualities of the wife he knew. He wondered at one point should he stop separating the two. He watched her smile relax into contempt, as her face and body went limp. Her breathing slowed and she eventually slipped into a sleep. He watched her for a while before falling into a light sleep himself.

——————————————————————-

She shifted awake because of the sound of mumbling. There were two different distinct voices with a high pitched clicking in the mix. She sits up and yawns, running a hand across her face. She slept long and heavily. The voices become more urgent but it’s not until she stands on her feet that she realizes it’s Attuma and Namor. She quickly pulled on a robe and honed in on their conversation. They were both clearly arguing. She stills and tries her hardest to listen behind the barrier of the tint.

“ What? You think it was easy for me to watch you wed her ? To watch you kiss her and hold her and I get fucking nothing ? Nothing ?”, his deep baritone voice mixed with the high robotic translator. He forgot to turn it off. She can’t understand what Namor was saying because he was speaking in Yucatec. She knows she shouldn’t listen but she can’t help it.

“ I have waited just as long as you. You deny me of this? You were not the only one in pain all those years. I could barely fucking talk to you. I lost you both and you left me alone to pick up the pieces. You hide her from me. You wanted her T—-“, Namor cuts him off harshly in his native tongue. Xahli peeks out of the gap of the tent, watching them.

“ You’re punishing me. I loved her and she loved me. I protected her, did you forget that ?!” Attuma’s voice raised as the translators volume raised as well.

“ Keep your voice down she’s sleeping”, Namor snapped in English. Namor responds is Yucatec again and she wishes she had her kimoyos with her.

“ She’s not a child. She felt our connection. Why deny her that ? As long as she has half of us, she will never truly be happy and you know that. The secrecy you have towards her will come back to haunt you. You have no clue what is good for her!” Attuma is yelling now and she jumped, causing a whimper to spill out her mouth. They both hear and see her, as she quickly hides behind the tent.

“ Come out Xahli ”, Namor says in a defeated tone.

“ I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to impose but I woke up.”

“ It’s fine. Come out, it’s okay “, Namor sighs.

Xahli guiltily pulls back the tent and sees Attuma standing there in his gear, this time without his headpiece. She eyes him warily as she steps out in front of the tent.

“ Hi.” She greets Attuma..

“ How much did you hear? ”, Attuma’s translator bleats.

“ Everything”

“ Fuck”

“ Fuck”, Namor and Attuma say in unison. One in Xhosa and the other in English. This could be a laughable moment for her if she wasn’t so embarrassed.

“ And I think Attuma is right. Whatever you have to say then just say it. You know.. I thought that after last night you wouldn’t keep anything else from me .” Theres a deafening silence between the three of them. Attuma gives the two of them a knowing look regarding her mention of last night? Xahli crosses her arms, waiting for somebody to speak.

“ My first wife was with Attuma. She loved him.” Namor waits for her reaction. He could tell Xahli did not fully grasp what he was saying yet.

“ She….was unfaithful ?”

“ No. We were all together. We were in love.”

“Oh.” She said meekly. A beat of silence passed over the cave. She finally gets it.

“OH!” she said loudly, fully understanding what he meant now. Her stomach dropped from the realization.

“ I did not want to reveal this to you quite yet because you just got here. I don’t know what you’re comfortable with and two men at once is …a lot. Just because she fell for the both of us didn’t mean that you would. So I told him to wait awhile.”

“ Attuma ?”, she turned to the blue man. He looked away with a guarded and annoyed expression.

“ It’s not just that he’s afraid you’d be overwhelmed. He’s afraid of what you’ll think of him because he’s in love with me too. We didn’t just share her. We loved one another individually and each relationship was unique in it’s own right. My relationship with Namor wasn’t always the same as mine with Coaxoch. But it was an agreement. It was love.” Attuma cuts his eyes to Namor. He’s hurt by Namor and Xahli can tell.

“ I’m attracted to someone’s spirit first. Gender is the last thing I care about when I truly love someone and I did not—.”, said Namor. He pauses hesitantly, wondering if Xahli would feel tricked.

“ Go on ”, she walks over to him and grabbed his hand supportively.

“ I know that sometimes surface people care about the relations between two people of the same gender. I did not know if you cared or if it would —disgust you in some way. So I held off ”, Namor huffs regretfully.

“ I would NEVER—EVER be disgusted by you are you crazy Namor ?”, she held his head in her hands. He’s looking past her and she can see the glint of tears in his eyes just barely there.

“ I would never. I respect you far too much. I respect this place far too much to enter it with any sort of bias or judgment. You’re free to love whoever you want and you don’t have to justify it.”, she smiled at him. He snaked his arms around her waist and she pecked the corner of his mouth. Still pressed to his chest, she turned around to face Attuma who currently had his arms folded.

“ Attuma.” She held her hand out to him. He looks at her hand then back up to her face.

“ I don’t want to leave you out. I admitted I felt something for you too. Maybe we can take this slow? We can get to know each other and start over. I’m willing to work towards that if you’ll have me,” She said. Attuma slowly walked up to her, his gear clunking with each step he took until they were a few centimeters apart. She looked up at him. “ I don’t want to take him away. I don’t want to come in between the two of you at all.”

“ You didn’t come in between us, her death did. We haven’t been quite the same since. We have had issues long before you were even a thought.”

“ Well I think you should apologize to him Namor. Apologize for treating him that way.” Xahli looked up at Namor, tilting her head back to get a good view of him. His hands tightened around her as he looked at Attuma with shame.

“ I am sorry Sáasil in kuxtal (light of my life). I know you might not forgive me but Coaxoch’s death changed me. I didn’t even recognize myself. I was selfish. I will spend eternity trying to make it up to you. Even if you won’t have me again.” Attuma stares at his lover painfully, seemingly conflicted on what his next move should be. He looks down to Xahli, and she nods encouragingly at him. She knew nothing of the decades they spent together but yet she so badly wanted them to work out their problems.

Attuma pressed against Xahli until she was stuck flat between them. His mouth smashed against Namor’s and she gasps quietly at the sight taking place above her. Never in her whole life did she think that she would be sandwiched in between two men kissing. Two men she had feelings for no less. The longer they kissed, the closer they pressed into the front and back of her. She figured they’d want some privacy so she attempted to move. Instead, they both kept her in place with their hands on her waist. It takes a few moments for Attuma to pull away from Namor’s mouth. Out of nowhere Attuma bent down and extended the kiss to her.

Remember, Reblogs help creators <3

[goddess-mixmi]

King Killmonger and his Queen Tempest🖤✨

As mentioned before Imani had been in small relationships with Erik Stevens before she realized Bucky had feelings for her. Both Erik and Imani had quite a lot of similarities, dead parents, being seen as outsiders despite being Wakandan, and wanting to give aid to people who look like them that can’t protect themselves. Imani didn’t think she was capable of love until she met him, he made her fell less alone.

Erik himself had a bit of a idolizing crush on her when she was first seen as Tempest and now he had a chance to be with him despite her trying to kill him at first for defeating T’Challa. Now she definitely could’ve held her own against him if her superpowers weren’t being restricted and he could’ve felt with her but he didn’t. He wanted her and she wanted him so he decided he’d marry her once everything was set in place. Imani almost got through to him about his motives being quite intense and promised to help the country that raised her and more when she becomes queen but it all went downhill in the end. And before he died he said he truly liked her, even left her with two kids of her own ( and depression too😭)

[oph3liatlou]

VICTORIA STARK - OC

─── 𝐻𝒶𝓈 ───

• 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃? •

​🇨​​🇦​​🇳​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇪​​🇪​ ​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇮​​🇸​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇧​​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇩​?

VICTORIA ♡ STARK

────────

ʚ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ɞ

Victoria's hands trembled, the warmth of her fire powers seeping through her fingertips. Though she had learned to embrace them, memories of the experiments, and the torment of Aldrich Killain, still haunted her. She stood there, conflicted between her past and her newfound strength, her eyes glowing like embers of determination.

"Who am I supposed to be?" she whispered, the flickering flames in her palms casting long shadows across the room. The weight of her heritage heavy on her shoulders.

─── 𝒞𝒶𝓃───

• 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋? •

​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​​🇸​, ​🇼​​🇮​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​?

────────

ʚ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 ɞ

VICTORIA MEREIDITH STARK !

────────

first name; Victoria is derived from the latin word "victoria" meaning "victory". In Roman mythology, Victoria was the goddess of victory, corresponding to the Greek goddess Nike.

middle name; Meredith is of Welsh origin, meaning "great-ruler".

last name; Stark is of English origin derived from the Old English word "stearc" meaning "firm and unyielding." In modern times, Stark means "severe or pain".

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 !

────────

Tori; was given the nickname "Tori" by her friends and family, a shortened version of her given name, Victoria. The name was affectionately used to differentiate her from her famous father, Tony Stark, also known as Ironman, who was a central figure in the Avengers. The nickname added a touch of familiarity and warmth, making her feel more approachable and less like the daughter of a superhero. It was a way for those closest to her to connect with her on a more personal level, beyond her father's larger-than-life persona.

Firecracker; Victoria's father, Tony Stark, often called his daughter "Firecracker" as a term of endearment. The nickname paid tribute to her fiery temperament and fierce determination, resembling the explosive power and captivating beauty of a firecracker. It was a way for Tony to express his love and acknowledgment for his daughter's resilience and strength in the face of challenges, often referring to her as such in moments of pride or admiration. The nickname served as a reminder of her unique and fiery spirit, reminiscent of a powerful explosion that illuminated the night sky.

Doll; Bucky Barnes calls Victoria "doll" as a term of endearment, a playful and affectionate nickname. The term "doll" suggests that he sees her as something precious, like a delicate and treasured object. At the same time, it also captures his fascination with her beauty and elegance. Nicknaming her "doll" is a way for Bucky to express his admiration and adoration for Victoria in a unique and endearing manner, setting her apart from others. The nickname serves as a constant reminder of her importance to him and the special place she holds in his heart.

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 !

────────

date; august 10

zodiac sign; leo

ruling planet; sun

elemental sign; fire

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 !

────────

female & pansexual

─── 𝐼𝓈 ───

•𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃?•

ʜᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ?

────────

ʚ 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ɞ

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 !

────────

Victoria stands at an average height of 5'6" with an athletic and toned physique, shaped by her training and regular physical activity. Her facial features are sharp and expressive, framed by a cascade of unruly brown hair that tumbles down to her shoulders. Her eyes are a warm, caramel brown and are framed by thick lashes, adding an air of intensity to her gaze. Her attire is often practical and designed for movement, complemented by her strong, agile figure.

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

────────

When Victoria is not in battle, her sense of style is casual and comfortable. She tends to favor practical clothing that allows for easy movement and freedom of expression. She often opts for jeans or cargo pants paired with a simple t-shirt or a comfortable sweater. Her footwear of choice is usually sneakers or sturdy boots, ideal for walks or light outdoor activities. Accessorizing is minimal, with a preference for jewelry that is subtle and personal, such as a thin silver bracelet or a small pendant necklace. Overall, her style reflects her practical and no-nonsense personality.

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 !

────────

When Victoria uses her powers, her demeanor transforms from reserved to fierce and commanding. Her eyes take on a fiery glow as the flames within her come to life, casting a warm, flickering light across her features. The air around her crackles with energy as heat radiates from her body, causing her hair to billow softly around her face. In this state, she exudes a sense of power and determination, her expression focused and resolute as she summons and harnesses the fiery energy within. This transformation is a testament to her connection to her fire powers and the strength she commands when utilizing them.

─── 𝒲𝑒'𝓁𝓁 ───

• 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 •

ᴡʜʏ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴄᴀʀᴇ?

────────

ʚ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ɞ

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

─ resolute; Victoria is determined and resilient, facing challenges head-on and refusing to back down easily.

─ compassionate; Despite her fiery demeanor, Victoria has a compassionate heart and a strong desire to help and protect others.

─ confident; With her impressive powers and skills, Victoria has a strong belief in herself and her abilities, which fuels her determination to push forward and achieve her goals.

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

─ impulsive; Victoria has a tendency to act on her emotions quickly and without thinking things through, which can led to hasty decisions and consequences.

─ stubborn; Once Victoria has set her mind on something, she can be stubborn and inflexible, refusing to consider other viewpoints or change her plans.

─ arrogant; Due to her abilities and skills, Victoria can sometimes come across as arrogant or overly confident, underestimating others and their capabilities.

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 !

────────

─ guitar; Victoria's hobby is playing electric guitar. She finds solace in the loud, powerful music and enjoys the creative outlet it provides. She often spends her free time practicing her skills on different techniques and exploring new songs to add to her repertoire. Playing the electric guitar allows her to express herself and release any built-up tension or energy, providing a much-needed balance to her busy life as an Avenger.

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

─ pacing; Victoria has a habit of pacing back and forth when she's deep in thought or feeling anxious or restless. She often finds herself pacing around the room or her living space when contemplating a difficult decision or trying to strategize. This habit helps her expend excess energy and aids in her problem-solving process. She may also unconsciously hum or sing softly as she paces, allowing her mind to fully focus on the task at hand.

─── 𝐻𝑒───

• 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐋 •

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴍᴀɢɴᴇᴛɪᴄ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ

────────

ʚ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 ɞ

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 !

────────

─ sarcasm

Victoria has a witty and sarcastic sense of humor and enjoys using playful banter and sarcastic remarks as a way to connect with others and lighten the mood in a given situation.

─ quality time

She values the bonds she has formed with her family and friends and derives great enjoyment from spending time with them.

─ music

As a hobby, Victoria loves listening to and playing different genres of music, finding inspiration and solace in the lyrics and beats.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 !

────────

─ restriction

 Victoria values her freedom and dislikes feeling constricted or controlled, especially when it comes to making decisions or taking action.

─ aldritch killian

She harbors a deep-seated dislike for Aldritch Killain, the villain who experimented on and tortured her during the events of Ironman 3.

─ disloyalty

Victoria has little tolerance for people who are dishonest, untrustworthy, or unreliable, especially in her team or among her loved ones.

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 !

────────

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫      red

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝       pizza

𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥   lion

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠       cherry bomb

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭      ac/dc

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞     fast and furious

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞      the top of the avengers tower

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭    mars

𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 !

────────

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐫     socially

𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫     no

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬        no

𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭    yes

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 yes

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫       yes

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫      no

─── 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 ───

• 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 •

ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɴᴋɪɴᴅ

────────

ʚ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 ɞ

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

────────

welder

Before becoming an Avenger, Victoria held a job as a Welder at Stark Industries. She worked in the fabrication and construction department, where she specialized in welding and metalwork. Her duties involved fabricating and repairing various metal components for Stark Industries' advanced technology, such as Iron Man's armors and weapons. Her skills and experience in welding made her an invaluable asset to the company and gave her a strong foundation of technical knowledge when she became an Avenger.

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

────────

new york city

Victoria lives in a luxurious penthouse suite located in the heart of New York City. The penthouse is situated in a high-rise building that offers stunning views of the city skyline and the surrounding area. The apartment is modern and sleek, featuring a minimalist design with open-concept spaces and ample natural light. There is a spacious living room, a fully equipped kitchen, a home gym, a luxurious bathroom with a spa-like shower and tub, and a cozy bedroom. The penthouse is the ultimate escape from the chaos of her superhero life and offers her a quiet refuge where she can unwind and relax.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 !

────────

highly upper-class

Having come from a wealthy upbringing as the daughter of one of the richest men on the planet, Tony Stark, Victoria's financial situation is one of great affluence and privilege. She has access to significant resources and assets, thanks to her father's wealth and status. As a result, she has never wanted for anything and can afford the best of everything, from living accommodations and travel to leisure activities and designer fashion. However, despite her wealth, Victoria remains down-to-earth and empathetic to the struggles of those less fortunate.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇 !

────────

Victoria is in excellent health, thanks to her regular physical training and adherence to a disciplined lifestyle. She maintains a healthy diet, exercises regularly, and ensures she gets enough rest and recovery time between missions. Her strong physical fitness, combined with her determination and resilience, allows her to withstand the demands of being an Avenger and to face any challenges that come her way. Despite the physical and emotional toll that comes with being a superhero, Victoria's health remains a priority, and she takes care of herself both mentally and physically.

─── 𝒩𝑜𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 ───

• 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 •

​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇺​​🇸​​🇹​ ​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​ ​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇱​​🇩​

────────

ʚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ɞ

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

────────

pansexual

Victoria is a cisgender woman and identifies as pansexual. Pansexuality means experiencing sexual, romantic, or emotional attraction to people of any gender, including cisgender, transgender, queer, or nonbinary individuals. It is a form of sexuality that is not limited by gender identity or expression. As someone who identifies as pansexual, Victoria is attracted to people of all genders and does not limit her attractions based on any gender boundaries. Being pansexual allows her to form connections with individuals based solely on their personality, character, and compatibility, without any restrictions or limitations imposed by gender stereotypes or expectations.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 !

────────

Victoria's preferences in a partner are primarily focused on emotional and personal compatibility, rather than external factors such as physical appearance or material possessions. She values qualities such as authenticity, honesty, loyalty, and empathy in a partner, as well as someone who is supportive of her lifestyle as an Avenger and can understand the complexities that come with it. She appreciates intelligence, creativity, and self-reliance, but doesn't mind a partner with a playful or mischievous side as well. Communication, trust, and a shared vision for the future are also important to her in a relationship.

𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 !

────────

Victoria's dream date would ideally involve something adventurous, exciting, and fun, such as going on a thrill ride at an amusement park, exploring a new city or place of interest, or participating in an adrenaline-pumping activity like bungee jumping or zip-lining. She also appreciates more intimate dates that allow her to connect with her partner on a deeper level, such as having a picnic in a scenic spot, attending a live music performance, or watching a movie at an outdoor theater. Ultimately, the key element of her dream date would be spending quality time with someone she cares about.

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 !

────────

Victoria's past relationships, if any, have likely been shaped by her experiences as an Avenger and the challenges that come with her lifestyle as a superhero. It's possible that she has had partners who struggled with the demands of her job, especially if they had difficulty understanding the responsibilities and dangers that come with being an Avenger. However, it's also possible that she has found partners who appreciated and respected her lifestyle and were supportive of her career goals. Overall, her past relationships may have taught her valuable lessons about communication, trust, and the importance of finding someone who can balance her hectic life with her desire for connection and companionship.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 !

────────

bucky barnes

Victoria' relationship with Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, is complex and ongoing. Initially, there may have been some tension and mistrust due to Bucky's past as a brainwashed assassin and Victoria's loyalty to her fellow Avengers. However, as they worked together and got to know each other better, they developed a strong friendship based on mutual respect and admiration. Over time, this friendship may have blossomed into something more romantic, with Victoria finding solace and companionship in Bucky's company. However, their relationship would likely also be marked by its own unique set of challenges due to their respective backgrounds and traumatic experiences.

─── 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ───

• 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 •

​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇮​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇸​​🇴​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇺​​🇳​​🇫​​🇺​​🇷​​🇱​

────────

ʚ 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ɞ

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 !

────────

pepper potts

Victoria's relationship with her step-mother, Pepper Potts, is likely complex and nuanced. Pepper has filled a maternal role in Victoria's life since her father, Tony Stark, and Pepper got married. As such, Pepper has provided guidance, support, and stability for Victoria, especially during challenging times in her life. Pepper is known for her resilience, intelligence, and dedication, which are traits that Victoria could admire and respect. However, given Pepper's hectic life and responsibilities as the CEO of Stark Industries and a superhero in her own right, it's also possible that their relationship could be strained at times due to conflicting priorities or schedules.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 !

────────

tony stark

Victoria's relationship with her father, Tony Stark, is likely complex and multifaceted. As the daughter of one of the world's most famous superheroes and a billionaire entrepreneur, she has grown up in the shadow of his larger-than-life persona. On one hand, she may have admired and looked up to her father for his intelligence, ingenuity, and bravery. On the other hand, she may have felt overshadowed and overshadowed by his legacy and the high expectations placed upon her as his daughter. Despite potential challenges, it's also possible that they share a close bond based on their shared experiences as Avengers.

𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 !

────────

morgan stark

Victoria's relationship with her younger sister, Morgan Stark, is likely one of love, protection, and closeness. As the eldest sibling, Victoria may have taken on a protective and nurturing role in her younger sister's life, guiding her and providing her with support and advice as she grows up. Given the strong bond between Tony and Pepper, it's likely that Victoria has been a positive influence on Morgan and has helped her navigate the complexities of growing up in the Stark family legacy. Overall, their relationship is likely one that is built on mutual love, trust, and loyalty.

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !

────────

natasha romanoff

Natasha and Victoria share a strong bond based on their time working together, and Natasha has often been a supportive figure in Victoria's life, providing advice and mentorship. They have also faced many dangerous missions together and have developed a deep trust and mutual respect for each other. Additionally, Natasha's wisdom, intelligence, and empathetic nature make her an ideal friend for Victoria to confide in and seek support from.

─── 𝒩𝑜𝓌 ───

• 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 •

ꜰᴏʀ ɪʀᴏɴ ᴍᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ꜰᴇᴀʀ

────────

ʚ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹'𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺 ɞ

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 : felicity jones

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 : ophelia

𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 : 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 : 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : ironman by black sabbath

𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐠 : #LucidTemp

[saisew]

Ritual Union giving Wakanda Forever 💜

I just needed y’all to see this.

Goddess.

Immaculate.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Ice Princess"

Ice Princess by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Murder, Mayhem, Blood, Violence, Action/Adventure, Thriller, All Dat Good Shit. Grown Folks Only.

Summary:

Portia Keith has it all. A rich boyfriend. An impressive sugar baby allowance. Shopping trips around the world on private jets and more. Every day is spent living in the lap of luxury. For a special holiday trip, her boyfriend gifts her with a private yacht cruise on the Aegean Sea to ring in the New Year with friends.

In order to keep the wealthy party-goers safe, private security is hired to protect the good times, and the spoiled diva encounters the gruff ex-Special Ops soldier, Erik Killmonger, who has no time to coddle a spoiled, coolheaded socialite. Chaos erupts when the yacht is hijacked by ruthless modern-day pirates, and Portia has to learn to leave her Ice Princess ways behind in order for Killmonger to get her back on land... alive.

Word count: 22.5K

"I'm so cold I'm dripping icicles

I go and take your man that nigga might miss you

Spent his whole commission on my neck and ear

To stand around me need to have ya winter gear

Pay me coats and benz's and that berg-ice

That's why I do not feel these bitches, frostbite

Grown money, ever since a youngin' made my own money

You broke honey, and they call me

Banks, cause I can loan money

Colder than December, my diamonds on

Anna WintourSo that's fly ice in my life"

Azealia Banks – "Ice Princess"

Erik Killmonger nearly turned down the job.

Floating around some Greek islands in and around the Aegean Sea for a week babysitting some rich bitches was not his dream gig. Some guns for hire might enjoy the laid-back assignment full of sunshine and sparkling azure waters, but he learned enough over the years that working for wealthy pampered civilians was a pain in the ass. They treated security like servant extensions, and he was not interested in an environment like that. He was accustomed to covert jobs that kept his blood pumping and his mind sharp. There were long-term goals that required him to be with a different mix around the Middle East and real action.

But his homeboy Clark wanted to keep the contract with James Quinton, the multi-millionaire from Silicon Valley who pioneered new bleeding-edge technology in computer processing. For about seven years, he had been a celebrated tech wiz, one of the few Black men successfully cashing out of the grind hustle culture. Killmonger kept up with the man's accomplishments and compared them with his own. As a graduate of M.I.T. and a certified genius with MENSA, the secret Wakandan prince would've probably become another James Quinton himself if his life hadn't been disrupted by trauma and loss. The chips fell where they did, and Killmonger bided his time searching for Ulysses Klaue and working as expensive hired security. Clark nagged at him.

"Man, I'm stretched thin. They want discretion and the best. That's you. I know you were supposed to start leave for a week to recuperate from that Lagos job, but there's some sketchy action happening around the Mediterranean, and your Navy SEAL experience is needed… just in case," Clark said on a satellite call.

Killmonger sat in his closet-sized studio that acted as a storage locker for his gear instead of a home. Constantly on the go, and on the grind, he listened to Clark reclining in his Lazy-Boy chair with a glass tumbler of prime whiskey in his hand.

"You'll ring the New Year in a beautiful atmosphere. Relaxed and peaceful. The bonus holiday pay is great. Please, I need this contract fulfilled. This man knows a lot of billionaires and I could use the referrals… new contacts. Plus, you're good-looking," Clark continued.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Killmonger said, sipping on his drink.

"Look over the file I sent you online. It gives details about the yacht you'll be protecting, and also the rest of the clientele."

"That still ain't got nothing to do with my looks," Killmonger grumbled.

"Pretty girls like good-looking men. That's all I'm saying. You might get lucky compared to the other goons I got," Clark said.

Killmonger closed his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. The studio apartment felt cramped and joyless.

"I'll throw in another bonus for the short notice," Clark insisted.

"How many people onboard?"

"It's a private New Year's party, eight guests, and the yacht staff of four. You'll have your own cabin. You'll lead everything with Sherman and Banks working under you. Giving you the best—"

"Just three men?"

Killmonger lifted his laptop from a small table next to his chair. He logged onto his dark web email account and scrolled images of the yacht. Looking at the dimensions and pictures, Killmonger put down his glass.

"I need at least three more men."

"I can pull at least one more for you—"

"Gotta have five total under me to make this work, especially with us going to a new hot spot."

"The Greek government and the Turkish government have been doing extra sea patrols. James Quinton hasn't mentioned going anywhere for the holidays and I urged him to place his social media engagement on pause for the week until they end their holiday. It'll be a vacation for you. In fact, you could just supervise and chill."

Killmonger knocked back the rest of his liquor.

"Okay, I'll do it. Get me five men."

He hung up and checked the files of James Quinton on his own cryptic software. Quinton liked to stunt his wealth. The man posted photos and corny quotes at least ten times a day on all of his social media platforms. It was the ones with his girlfriend that worried Killmonger.

Portia Keith.

Online, she was known as the Ice Princess. Her beauty and personality were so cold that she had a reputation for being a femme fatale with a rich man's wallet. She had been linked to a few celebrities in the past but had moved her pampered ways to men with deeper and consistent pockets. She rarely spoke in public and showed up to haute couture fashion shows all across the globe. Killmonger couldn't figure out exactly what she did to make men clamor for her and pop culture gossip blogs to want to follow her daily jaunts as a sugar baby with James Quinton.

He stared at a few pictures.

Ma definitely had a face card that would never decline. Medium height, a medium copper brown complexion that turned a pretty darker hue in the sun. Body looked all natural and not the cringy build-a-bitch looks women paid top dollar for. Portia had tits and a nice ass that matched her thighs. She liked provocative looks and expensive things. Quinton gave her everything and baby girl wasn't denied anything according to the photos he peeped on her platforms. There was a crew of girlfriends she jaunted around with, and in every picture, Portia was the center of attention. The face of a model on par with Naomi Campbell, and the body of a vixen bent on destroying hearts and dicks. She stayed dripped in diamonds every day from head to toe. Most men couldn't afford her and several tried to keep her until Quinton snatched her up with the bank account that kept her flaunting her beauty and body.

That face, though? Killmonger couldn't stop staring at it. Her eyes were cool dark windows that gave away nothing. The kind of eyes that cut niggas down if they weren't on point. Her round nose was slightly upturned in a natural haughtiness, but her lips were the deadliest weapons in her arsenal. Killmonger's lips parted as he licked his canine slugs that matched the bottom ones made of pure gold. Portia's lips looked like they could make a dick cry if she sucked on it. Her nickname fit the vibe she gave off, and he wondered what Quinton had besides money to keep that sophisticated sugar baby close.

Killmonger checked the gossip sites and scrolled pages and pages of rumors that Portia and Quinton were having issues and possibly on the outs. He guessed the private New Year's trip was Quinton's way of keeping her, especially with the gossipmongers bubbling with sightings of her having lunch with an Italian billionaire.

Killmonger poured himself a fresh drink, then checked flight schedules on Delta Airlines.

Portia Keith pouted all the way to Greece on her boyfriend's private Gulfstream jet. Scrolling her social media feeds while holding her apricot-colored Pomeranian Mimi, she fumed at the gossip page listing her and Quinton on a site that criticized the super-rich for ruining the climate with their wasteful private flights and hoarding of resources. Her bestie Jodie patted her thigh and told her to ignore the haters.

One thing Portia always did was cultivate a scandal-free reputation. She prided herself on being a carefree Black woman leading a luxury movement for other Black women that had them raising their standards against unqualified men. Accused of only promoting hypergamy and a sugar baby lifestyle, she let people talk their shit because it only brought luxury brands her way courting her favors to use and promote their goods for free. Her exquisite face launched products like no other, and the quiet mystique she crafted with razor precision could not tolerate slander with her image. It wasn't her jet. It was Quinton's. Rich people had to protect themselves and taking commercial airlines with the poors was so… gauche. Especially for bad bitches like herself. The income brackets she played in were fifty million and above, and the low bar of fifty million was just being polite. Not bad for a country girl with tidewater roots and access to an excellent finishing school that prepped her for the lifestyle she led.

Portia left Charleston, South Carolina, with a finance degree from Clemson University and never looked back. Landing a job working under the Director of Finance and Operations for Conde Nast, she labored around the folks who ran Vogue Magazine. A chance encounter during New York Fashion Week launched her new career as a pampered princess. The paparazzi snapped a candid shot of her walking near Anna Wintour wearing a layered sable Balenciaga romper. They both wore the same dark Chanel sunglasses, and a fashion mag begged the question, "Who wore it better?" Before his passing, André Leon Talley exalted her style sense and overnight, Portia became the new "It" girl, the mysterious fashionista who was too short to be a model, but too glamorous to be a simple finance department worker.

She jumped on the parasocial relationship with the New York fashion scene and made sure she appeared at big events. Using a lame-ass rapper who liked to rock oversized ice, she taught him how to dress better, and spent his money on a better investment… her. She put him on to better fashion, better food, and better jewelry. It helped broaden his brand and snag a movie role. She bounced from him to a Hollywood Executive who flaunted her at Oscar parties and she kept her mouth shut and her eyes wide open for new marks. Stacking other people's paper and collecting custom diamond jewelry that became her signature trademark was a lofty career in her early twenties. Portia was nearing the end of her roaring twenties and she had to upgrade her prospects to older men with healthy long-term portfolios. Hollywood and celebrity wealth were fleeting, often feast and famine. New prospects were needed and her finance education led her to San Francisco and tech Daddies. The trade-offs were dull, less attractive men, but fatter pockets.

Then Quinton appeared on a Forbes magazine cover.

Dollar signs flashed in her eyes. She called in favors to get invited to a tech gala and projected her icy exterior onto a man who was rich and above average. New money cleaned him up, but her looks, nimble fingers, and optimum sex magic snagged her a baller on the rise. If she drank enough liquor and squinted her eyes just so, he could almost pass as a poor man's skinny Trevante Rhodes. But that squint had to be hard and the liquor extra strong.

She glanced over at Quinton.

He bored her now.

Quinton was thirty, only four years older than her, but he acted like he was fifty, worrying about his declining fortune all the time. He got caught up in some bad cryptocurrency deals and took a hit on some poor stock market advice. The man pretended that everything was okay financially, but Portia could smell the oncoming of poverty one hundred miles away. Yet she still ran his pockets one last time with the trip she wanted for herself and her girls. She had a couple of boyfriend replacements already on deck and planned to jump ship after the New Year. Broke didn't look good on her and she wasn't built for struggle love or struggle pockets. A baddie always had a graceful contingency exit plan. She sighed loud enough for Quinton to notice her restlessness. Her gaze glossed over his hairline, which was beating a hasty retreat to the back of his neck. What had once been a full head of cropped waves had turned into phantom follicles that gave up on him faster than she did. He had aged so quickly in the two years she'd been with him that she could mistake him for his own father nowadays. Pity. Portia thought she'd stay with him for at least a few more years to see if he could stack his paper higher past the eighty million he was worth when she met him. Alas, that was not to be.

Quinton put down the computer tablet he had his nose buried in and clasped her hand. His eyes were already bloodshot from drinking and anxiousness. Things were probably going downhill faster.

"We're about to land, baby. Have patience," he said.

Her girlfriends giggled and drank martinis behind them. Portia ran a diamond-studded finger up his arm. Mimi whined on her lap.

"Will you give me anything special for New Year's Day?" she purred.

Quinton grinned.

"I have a lot planned for you," he winked.

At least he was going out with a bang, she thought. He was spoiling her one last time, unbeknownst to him. A part of her wondered if she should feel pity for milking him dry until he went belly up. It was the nature of the game, and he knew fully that to keep a woman like her, he had to keep his coins up. She kissed his cheek and her stomach dropped. They were descending.

Their landing was swift, and they were all transported to a launch dock where Quinton's brand-new custom yacht waited for them on tranquil turquoise waters. Seeing the ship, Portia couldn't help but get excited and jump about like a kid with her friends as she held Mimi in her personalized pink Fendi doggy purse. Quinton's three male friends ogled the women through their sheer beach cover-ups. Their teeny-weeny bikinis left little to the lascivious imagination. Portia patted her designer cornrows studded with pink diamond hair jewelry that matched Mimi's pink diamond collar. The ends of her jeweled braids extended past her back, and she flung her natural hair around and waited to board the yacht.

A staff member waited on the main deck of the ship with a tray of mixed drinks in a crisp eggshell white maritime uniform of a starched shirt and knee-length shorts. Portia grabbed the first glass and her gaze drifted over to the tall Black man wearing a hot as hell black military uniform holding a colt commando automatic weapon. His glossy locs framed a gruff, bearded face with a scowl on his thick lips.

"Ohmigod, Quinton. Is this really necessary? Mood killer," Portia complained.

She released Mimi to run around and handed her purse to another crew member. Quinton shook the security's hand. Scoping the yacht, Portia saw five more similar men spread behind the first one.

"Killmonger, correct?" Quinton said.

"Correct," Killmonger said.

"Just Killmonger?" Portia asked.

"Just Killmonger," he answered in a rough tone.

Quinton turned to all of his guests as they mingled and admired the surrounding luxury. The five other security team members dispersed to their stations. Only Killmonger remained. Quinton held out his hands to show off his big, shiny toy.

"As I told all of you, we'll be completely protected. I know there have been rumblings of issues in this region, but I hired some serious security. Enjoy yourselves! Wander around for a bit and they will place your luggage in your cabins. Lunch in an hour!" Quinton said.

"Hold up," Killmonger said.

Everyone stopped chatting and froze with their refreshing drinks.

"We need to go over a safety drill," Killmonger said.

Quinton glanced at his watch.

"Now? Can it wait until after lunch?"

"No," Killmonger said.

"Where would you like us to be?" Quinton asked.

"Head to the stern, please," Killmonger said, pointing to the back of the yacht.

The others headed in that direction. Portia sauntered past him in the opposite direction.

"I'm going to settle in," she said, rolling her eyes.

Killmonger snatched up her arm so quickly that it knocked the breath out of her. She didn't know a human could move that fast. He held her close to his chest as his other hand gripped his weapon.

"See, you're the type of woman who makes the job difficult by being a brat," he snapped.

"You can't talk to me like that!" she hissed, trying to jerk her arm away. It was like fighting an immobile mountain.

"I'm here to protect your good time. We practice drills for a reason."

She exhaled hard when she noticed his teeth. Sharp gold canine slugs on his top and bottom teeth.

"I could have my man sue you for assault," she bitched.

"Do it," he said.

Portia blinked fast several times.

"Do you know who James Quinton is? He could ruin you!" she bellowed, squirming in his grip.

"I'm here to make sure you rich people don't get bothered. I'm the best at that and I'd appreciate your cooperation with the safety drill. It'll only take twenty minutes of your precious spoiled time," he barked.

"Portia?"

Her friend Chelsea called for her.

Killmonger released her arm, and Portia looked up into his face. Narrow, heated eyes peered down at her.

"Let's go, princess," he said, swaggering past her and slinging his weapon over his shoulder.

Portia stared at his wide back and clenched her teeth. She threw her martini glass over the side of the yacht in anger and balled up her fists. Prepared to raise hell with Quinton over the manhandling, she huffed under her breath in anger and stomped her Gucci slides when Killmonger glanced back at her and… smiled, flashing those gold slugs.

Portia halted her steps. The fuck was he smiling at?

And why was she getting aroused by it?

She was a piece of work.

Killmonger knew from jump that Portia would be a problem needing an attitude adjustment. He checked her real quick the moment she mouthed off about not following safety rules that had to be enforced in case of an emergency. She gave him a glacial stare during his short introductory speech on how the trip would run among the security team, and he took them down the stairs that led to a sunbathing deck. There was an emergency escape door that led to an eleven meters long military rigid hull inflatable boat under the yacht that could hold three crew and eight passengers. It had an M60 7.62mm machine gun, an MK19 40mm, and an M2 .50 cal. machine gun armament attached to it. The boat could do forty knots with six in-line cylinder diesel engines. It was an extreme weather craft and Killmonger made them all jump inside of it to get a feel of how they would ride it in case of an emergency exit. He pointed out life vests and showed them the scuba gear his men had available to check for underwater threats.

Once Portia realized they were the real deal, she fixed her face to look less bitchy and bothered. Killmonger was concise and professional and he impressed all the guests with his background and training. He spoke to his team to go over work shifts, breaks, and overnight watch duty. Taking the first shift watch on the main deck, he kept his guard up while the yacht started its adventure away from the Greek port and out into the open sea. The captain of the ship introduced himself and his staff after lunch and their first port of call was Athens, and then they would head to Crete. They would spend the rest of their time tooling around on the open sea and shooting off fireworks on New Year's Eve.

The women wasted no time throwing off their bikini covers and rushing over to sunbathe topless on cushy recliners. An annoying little dog ran around barking and finally jumped on Portia's thighs to sleep until it got too hot and it hid under her chair. He didn't mind watching the sea with binoculars and occasionally looking down at tits. They weren't shy about showing them, so he would not pretend he didn't notice. Quinton and his male buddies grabbed a bottle of top-shelf bourbon and headed to the other side of the yacht to smoke cigars on padded deck chairs. They were torn up by dinner, and by then, he was done with his work shift and free to relax and eat a meal in his cabin. A private chef brought him moussaka and white wine for dinner and galaktoboureko for dessert. It filled him up, and he took a quick shower afterward, then rested on his bed.

The party crowd became raucous and rowdy the later it became, and he changed into light linen pants and a cotton shirt to join them and check in with the night shift team. Music blared from speakers on the starboard side and he eased around to observe and also check out the night waters. The yacht had spotlights that surrounded the bottom of the boat, so there was a beautiful glow to the calm aquamarine water. The rest of the ship was lit up too, which concerned Killmonger. Nothing like advertising a luxury yacht filled with rich people. He was correct in requesting five men to work with him. They had various firearms, rocket-propelled grenades, and enough ammo to start a war at sea if needed. He relaxed after talking to the two men on shift. All was well.

He went for a stroll around the upper decks while the civilians headed down to the lower deck to spread out for cocktails on the main deck. A cool breeze blew past and ruffled his locs. He closed his eyes and faced it fully, luxuriating in the sensation.

"Oh… so you can look normal."

Killmonger opened his eyes and found Portia and one of her friends sitting on white barrel chairs with their legs kicked up on an olive green ottoman. She wore a short pumpkin-colored shift dress and her skin looked amazing from being in the sun all day. Playing with the hem of her extra short dress, he admired the elaborate diamond chips that decorated her long fingernails. She stayed adorned, and he appreciated the effort she took to look feminine and soft. Portia's friend looked cute in a short polka-dotted sun dress. Her hair was lifted in a high ponytail of cascading auburn curls that fell down over her slender shoulder.

He took the open seat next to the friend with a short table between them. There was a half-empty glass of red wine and a fresh unopened bottle next to it with a cork opener conveniently placed on top of it if she needed more.

"I can dress down when I'm not working," he said.

She smiled. The wine had relaxed her and she appeared less uptight. Crossing a seductive leg, he glimpsed her sexy thighs. She didn't have any panties on, and her mound was clean-shaven. He glanced away to pretend he saw nothing, but the smirk on her face told him she meant for him to see her pussy.

"Why aren't you two down with the others?" he asked.

"Needed a break. When you're always the life of the party like me, you need a little time off. Plus, they're talking about work and stocks. Tiana and I are not interested."

"That's so snoozefest," Tiana said, her light skin splotchy with sunburn marks.

"Your other friends seem intrigued by it."

"Those heffas?" Portia snorted. "They just want to appear interested to get attention. Carlos is worth half a billion. Ben two billion. Oh, and that loud mouth you hear right now? That's Stieg. He's a Scandinavian trust fund baby worth five billion. My girls are here to party with me, but make no mistake, they're fishing for a big fish of their own to catch up with me. They're bored out of their minds, but…."

Portia rubbed her fingers together to indicate cash. She stood up and walked down the stairs, leaving Killmonger with Tiana. He sat in silence for a moment before standing up to leave.

"You sure you'll be okay up here by yourself?" he asked, glancing over at the balcony.

Tiana looked heavily inebriated.

"I can hold my liquor," Tiana said.

"Alright then, I'll leave you to your bottle and privacy—"

He glanced over the railing and watched Portia saunter to the front of the yacht. For someone who stayed rude to him while he was on shift, her lax behavior at night intrigued him. Showing off her pussy had to be an amusing game to her. Killmonger liked what he saw and slid his wet tongue across a gold fang.

The rest of his rounds were completed, and he gave one of his men a twenty-minute smoke break starboard side once the guests had turned in to sleep. He took over the watch temporarily and cast his glances out toward the tranquility of the sea. Heavy breathing brought forth curiosity, and he strolled down to a lower deck to investigate.

Portia was on her back naked, legs spread wide as Quinton exerted desperate dick strokes inside of her.

"You're so good, baby. Yes, that's it," Portia said with lukewarm enthusiasm.

Her eyes faced the sea, and she offered no effort to reciprocate affections or even movement as her man pounded her. The detachment on her expressionless face bothered Killmonger. Quinton gave her the world and she couldn't be bothered to give some passion? Even if it was a fake? A true pillow princess, Portia laid there with minimal effort to even wiggle her hips. She managed to push her breasts together and jiggle them, but she refused to look at Quinton's face. The man stared at the fat titties and pumped his way to a sad orgasm. When he collapsed on top of Portia, she took her expensive nails and raked them on the back of his neck and cooed phony words of praise. A smug look painted her face.

Killmonger gripped the railing, and a surge of anger sparked inside of him. He wanted to wipe that petty smirk off Portia's face. He knew fully well that her relationship with Quinton was a transactional one based on the rules of patriarchy. Men bought women as commodities and arm candy all the time. Killmonger knew what the game was, and Ma played it like the pro she appeared to be. However, it irked him that Quinton didn't fuck the shit out of her and make Portia earn all of her riches from him.

Quinton rolled off of her on the wide sectional couch and pulled off the condom that sheathed his average-sized dick. He balled it up and tossed it onto the table next to them. Within seconds, he was fast asleep, and Portia rested her head on a throw pillow. Her eyes squinted in surprise when she noticed Killmonger looking down at them. She slid a finger to her pussy lips, teasing Killmonger by opening her legs wider so he could see all the wet pink of her succulent entrance. His lips twisted up and there was a tightening in his pants. She traced a finger in a wide circle around her folds, then licked her fingers, dropping them onto her nipples to tweak the tips. He gripped the front of his pants to adjust his dick, thinking of all the ways he would fold her body if he had the chance to teach her a lesson about teasing a nigga like him. Her writhing body was doing all the things she should've been doing for Quinton if she hadn't been a lazy fuck. Portia dipped her fingers inside of her pussy and pursed her lush lips as she watched his face grow more aroused watching her display of ridiculous seduction right next to her snoring boyfriend. But he couldn't look away. Her fingers spun magic as they played in her slick folds. She flicked her clit and widened her legs for him until she raised her arm up and flipped him off with a moist finger. Portia cackled and clutched at her stomach, delighted at her teasing. She grabbed the shift dress she had on earlier and put it on, leaving Quinton behind by himself on the sectional. Tossing the used condom in the sea with the flick of a diamond nail, her laughter floated up to Killmonger as she headed to her cabin.

"Bitch," he grumbled.

She had him going, toying with him by using her physical blessings against him long enough to tell him to fuck off. Portia wanted to play cat and mouse, thinking he was the silly little mouse. Little did she know she had a vicious panther on her hands.

They docked in Crete at the crack of dawn.

Killmonger had two of his team stay behind to watch the yacht, and the others dressed in civilian clothing to blend in and trail the women who went shopping and out for lunch with the billionaires and Quinton. The blistering heat didn't let up. He wiped the back of his neck and under his chin several times while tracking Quinton. Portia stayed on the yacht to sleep in late. Her man seemed to find his balls again when he wasn't around her. The passive energy disappeared, and he took on a personality with bravado, impressing Tiana, who laughed at his corny jokes. Their lunch break was long and Killmonger took time to smoke a cigar near an open market. He played tourist watching the surrounding activity, checking the time on his watch constantly, and checking in with the yacht.

In his peripheral he caught Quinton slinking out of the high-end restaurant and entering the luxury hotel next to it. Killmonger stayed put hidden behind a marble statue of Athena, keeping his steady gaze on his client. Quinton checked his surroundings before dashing into the hotel. Killmonger entered the hotel and discreetly shielded his body from the other tourists. Moments later, Tiana walked into the lobby and headed toward Quinton. The tech wiz grabbed Tiana's hand and they entered an elevator together. Killmonger grinned and left the hotel.

The pillow princess's man was getting better pussy elsewhere with her bestie. Killmonger shook his head and checked on the people milling around the hotel lobby. He stayed put until the illicit couple came back down the elevator twenty-five minutes later, fixing their rumpled clothes to look presentable again.

"Quick ass," Killmonger mumbled, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth to chase away the taste of cigar on his tongue.

The trip back to the yacht was uneventful an hour later, and Portia's girlfriends carried plenty of gift bags to commemorate their visit. Portia stood on the top deck with a martini glass in her hand wearing an alabaster knit bikini. A giant floppy sun hat shaded her face. She pranced around on her chunky platforms, waiting for her friends to share their bounty with her.

"Fuck," Killmonger uttered, staring up at her.

Her body was insane. The bikini top only covered her nipples, and the bottoms barely shielded her vulva. He licked his lips again, staring at how fat her pussy looked up there. Tiana was nothing compared to Portia, but Killmonger knew that a lot of beautiful women had trash box and men fucked with women who made them feel good. Looks had nothing to do with keeping a man in the long run. Plenty of mid-looking and ugly women had snatched away prizes from bombshells. Perhaps Portia needed a man with good dick to turn her out correctly. There was no way all that body was going to waste because some rich dude couldn't handle her spunk.

Portia caught him checking her out, and she leaned over the railing to eye him back. Killmonger sauntered to his cabin to change back into his serious work clothes. He checked in with the mercs left behind on duty and all reports were good. The ship's captain updated him with a weather report and soon they were back out at sea for the rest of the trip.

Quinton and Portia threw a costume-themed dinner party and everyone wore Mardi Gras masks and sipped champagne before devouring salty caviar, Kobe steak, and lobsters. The yacht staff hustled to please, but Portia became a bitch when things didn't go as smoothly as she wanted. She reamed one female server so badly for stepping on her dog Mimi by accident that the woman slunk away in tears. Quinton said nothing about the bullying and everyone else was too drunk to comment on anything. Portia snapped at two mercs while moving into their next party area for charades and Killmonger had enough of the poor attitude. When Portia went for a restroom break in her cabin, he followed her. She caught him waiting for her in the narrow hall.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Her icy tone and polar stare made him want to flip her around and spank her ass like an insolent child being reprimanded by a fed-up parent.

"You need to check your tone with the staff and my men. These people are working hard—"

"Shut the fuck up, you simpin' bitch," she said.

Portia lifted the Mardi Gras mask onto her forehead and glared at him. Her little cat woman bikini costume showed off every curve, and he became distracted for a second by the veracity of her tone and demeanor. No woman had ever tried to come for him like that, especially one who didn't know him from Adam. Her breath smelled like the expensive French wine she had drank all night, and he considered her drunken state before speaking. He leaned in, and Portia leaned back until she was jammed against her cabin door. Killmonger bared his teeth at her and she acted as if he had snarled like a beast. Her eyes darted toward the stairs that led to the top deck, expecting someone to rescue her.

"Treat people who cater to you with respect. They don't get paid enough to take your verbal abuse," he demanded.

She looked away from his heated glare and gold canines. He caught the subtle tremble in her body, but then she turned her face back to him and smirked.

"Those people are paid well and competed to get this job—"

"You ain't paying 'em," he said.

"My man is. His money is my money—"

"You sure about him being your man?"

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a tight grimace. Killmonger decided to blow up her spot and teach the brat a lesson. Every bully needed to be humbled in their life. There was no better time than the present for her.

Portia put a hand on her hip and waited for him to run his mouth some more.

"He had a little quickie with your homegirl Tiana at a hotel while everyone was having lunch."

He cocked his head and waited for the explosion and waterworks to begin. Portia stared at him hard, then started cackling.

"Think I'm joking? I followed them there," he said.

Portia snorted and grabbed her stomach to control her laughter. He waited for her to notice that he was serious. She patted his chest with her right hand and he rolled his eyes with impatience.

"The look on your face right now… as if you got me with something!" she heckled.

Portia wiped her almond eyes and touched her chest. Her diamond nails glittered and that cool exterior returned in full effect.

"I sent that bitch there myself," Portia said.

Killmonger's brow wrinkled, and Portia gave him a little twisted lip pout. Then she grinned.

"Aw, I'm sorry boo boo. You really thought this was a gotcha moment. Ever hear of keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer? Tiana is a free-loading cunt… yeah, I said cunt like the white girls do. She's not my homegirl, just competition who has been trying to be me from day one. I let that heffa into my inner circle to keep her on a leash. Quinton is going broke and all of this…?"

She waved her hand above her head.

"All of this shit is about to disappear soon, so to teach her a lesson about coming for what I got, I'm letting her have that limp dick brokie. She thinks she's on the come-up sneaking around with him, but I fed her fake bread crumbs to that nigga. Lied, and told her we were having relationship problems, and that I was worried that he wanted someone else. That little worker hoe really thinks she's better than the queen bee. I stayed on the yacht on purpose so she could make her move on him. Now she knows shiny things aren't always diamonds with that weak peen. In her mind, she thinks she has him and his money. The reality is, she's with a broke faker. Checkmate, bitch."

Portia guffawed and pointed to Killmonger's face.

"I respect you for trying to break my heart to humble me, but you can't play a player," she said.

She shoved him out of her way and strutted up the stairs, tooting her ass out so he could see it jiggle as she walked. Stopping halfway, she looked back at him.

"I'll act nicer with the staff just to make you feel better," she said.

Killmonger chuckled and shook his head. Baby girl was cold-blooded. Respect. He eased his big body up the steps and did quick surveillance all around the ship. Portia acted better with the servers, but she was still icy with the other mercs.

The next few days were dull and humid.

Boredom set in with the women, as the men only drank, ate, and slept for hours on end. Killmonger observed how Portia maneuvered around Tiana. Deadly sweet. It was like watching a scorpion slowly poison a frog as it rode the weaker creature's back. The shine of being with Quinton wore off Tiana, and he caught her brushing off the advances of her secret lover when they thought no one else saw them around the yacht. Portia knew everything that went on between them, orchestrating their dismal affair right under the noses of everyone present.

New Year's Eve rolled around and the trip was nearly over. He had to admit that the assignment wasn't as troublesome as he thought it would be. Quinton hired a fireworks crew to meet them on a separate boat at a rendezvous point in the middle of the ocean. Killmonger sent his mercs over to check out the other smaller ship with metal detectors, heat sensor devices, and a thorough inspection of the crew while he scuba-dived under the boat to sweep for explosives and hidden weapons. They inspected the fireworks being used, too. When one of his team helped him out of the water, he pulled off his scuba gear, and Portia watched him undress. Her eyes grew enormous when his scars came into view. The shiny lumpy brown flesh decorated him with a deadly artistic beauty, displaying every life he had taken in his line of work. He walked across the deck, dripping in seawater and muscles. A hunger grew in her aroused eyes to see more under the wetsuit.

"All safe," he said, whisking past her, carrying his air tanks to a rack.

He took his time pulling off the rest of his wetsuit, shaking his thighs, and grabbing his dick through his tight trunks to adjust the weight there.

Quinton walked over, clapping his hands together.

"All good?" Quinton asked.

"You can have your show tonight," Killmonger said.

Portia flounced away, shaking those ass cheeks, and his dick jumped in his trunks. The last few days she'd been a lot more suggestive with her behavior toward him, teasing him with flirty glances, and tugging on her swimwear suggestively in front of him that had Killmonger undressing her in his mind at night. He jerked off on his bed after taking a shower from scuba diving, imagining himself bending her over a railing and spanking her ass, rubbing his dick tip against her while she glanced back at him with those spoiled eyes and luscious, pouty lips. She needed to be punished. Needed to be on her knees and sucking his dick. If she complained about his length choking her, he would slap her and train her to show some respect for the gift of having his length stretch her mouth.

His erection was harder than steel and he kept playing an image of her begging forgiveness for being such a bitch. Killmonger wanted to cum all over her face and mess up that illusion of perfection she had about herself. Knowing what he did about her for nearly a week, he already understood that she would try to break his resolve and manhood down to control him. She needed a strong Daddy to put her right, and the thought of her sucking his balls while she stared at him with insolent eyes sent him over the edge, and ribbons of hot cum shot all over his hand and midsection. His dick was still hard as he beat it again, thinking of her pussy contracting all over his erection. She just had a way about her that made him want to tame her. Break her down. Force her to submit and sit that plump ass on his face.

He rolled over, groaning into his pillow, angry that she had reduced him to playing with himself when he was supposed to be overseeing his men. Cleaning up quickly, he went topside to check on the action above. Quinton and his guests had all retired for late afternoon naps to prepare for the evening's festivities. A fancy seven-course Mediterranean meal was planned for the New Year's celebration and they invited all the mercs to join in the fun with their shifts.

Portia wore her alabaster bikini again with a coral beach wrap skirt. Diamond earrings decorated her ears and a huge blue diamond necklace sat on her neck worth more than Killmonger made in a year legally. She toned down her make-up, going for a natural look, and the switch-up was extraordinary. It softened her face more, and she became even more beautiful.

Killmonger ate his fill of the gourmet food and allowed himself one glass of champagne before changing shifts with another merc. He kept his dark clothes on and strolled alone along the uppermost deck. The ship captain ate from a plate and Erik glanced over at the fireworks ship. He lifted the work binoculars from his chest and stepped back outside to observe the water and sky. No moon. Just stars stretched across the heavens, sparkling the jewels all over Portia.

The fireworks show started at eleven-thirty for a slow countdown to midnight. Killmonger positioned himself on the deck overlooking the stern. Below him, the rich guests gathered with more champagne and small desserts to watch the show. It was spectacular. Fireworks had never impressed him before, but he found himself looking at the sophisticated light show over the sea. Dazzling shapes and styles of explosives brought a magical ambiance all around them. Portia squealed and clapped her hands like a child, often pushing her face against Quinton's shoulder whenever an explosive boomed too loud and scared her. She looked cute while enjoying herself and Killmonger wondered why she couldn't be like that all the time. A certain type of sweetness exuded from her, as if she had put away that mask of cool she always wore, just to be a regular woman having a good time.

A server approached Killmonger with a tray of champagne.

"Why not?" Killmonger said, lifting a glass.

He drank it down and kept his eye on Portia, enjoying the fireworks.

Portia gulped down another glass of champagne and watched a firework turn into a rose in the sky. She clapped and oohed and ahhed to her heart's content. It was a beautiful way to end a relationship. A part of her actually felt a little bad about dumping Quinton after the trip. He would find someone new with a lower income bracket, hopefully, someone who loved him for who he was and not his wallet. The poor schlep was the type of dude who used money to buy his way into the quality of woman he wanted, which was not who he needed. Perhaps if Portia had remained a small-town girl working finance at a bank or small business in her old hometown, Quinton would've been deemed, in her mind, the catch of a lifetime. Alas, that was not the ocean current she rolled in. His ego was big, and he felt entitled to beautiful women simply because he had a dick and some money. Cultivating a personality, hobbies, or real solid friendships was not in his wheelhouse. Trophy girlfriends would never bring him happiness.

The champagne bubbles in her flute tickled her nose. She glanced over at Tiana who looked seasick from too much liquor in her system. Maybe there was some hope for Quinton being with her enemy. Everyone deserved love.

Portia was about to go check on Mimi in her cabin before it hit midnight. She gave the Pomeranian a doggy sedative to keep her from anxiety with all the fireworks noise, and she worried her fur baby would be frightened without checking in with her. The crackle of a spectacularly loud firework drew her attention to the sky again. A chain of enormous fiery lights popped off, and she glanced at her dainty Patek Philippe watch. It wasn't midnight yet for any kind of grand finale. Unless something bigger was about to erupt in the sky after that volley of bright multi-colored lights. She clapped and heard a loud popping sound.

"Did a firework not go off?" she asked.

Her girlfriends shrugged before a gigantic explosion rocked the bow of the ship that was not part of the show. The yacht lurched, and Portia fell to her knees off-balance with her platform heels. Smoke and flames filled her shocked eyes. Everyone nervously headed toward the front to see what the hell happened and more popping sounds commenced from behind them. Tiana fell on top of her with Carlos. Portia's two other friends shrieked and ran, cut down by a hail of bullets through their backs. Portia pushed the limp and bloody woman off of her legs and shoved Carlos away too. The man's eyes looked up at her with a lifeless stare, and Portia screamed. She stayed on her hands and knees to keep low while looking up toward the higher decks. Killmonger had a modified M249 up and shot toward the sea targets. The fireworks ship exploded into a reddish-orange fireball, blazing the night sky with more flames and thick smoke. Parts of that ship flew over onto the deck of the yacht. One of Killmonger's men shot a grenade launcher from his weapon, aiming for some enemy Portia couldn't see on the dark water.

"Portia! Stay down!" Killmonger called out to her.

She did what he said and hid under Carlos and Tiana again, trying not to lose it as their warm blood dripped all down her legs and pooled at her feet. She swiped some of the cooling blood from her limbs and wiped it all over her throat to make herself look injured and played dead on the deck. Quinton ran toward the side of the yacht, and Portia wanted to follow, but the volley of intense bullets whizzed over her head. She covered her face, hearing loud splashes of water and yelling. The mercs around her scuffled with people who had climbed aboard. A powerful arm lifted her up by her waist.

"You been hit?" Killmonger asked.

"No!"

A merc near Killmonger took a shot between the eyes and dropped in front of her.

"Let's go!" Killmonger yelled, helping a server go with them.

The attackers cut the server down in mid-step and Portia realized with horror that all the guests except for her and Quinton were in a dead bloody heap all across the deck. She only lucked out because two bodies fell on her, shielding her from becoming human Swiss cheese. Another of Killmonger's team ran past them to fight, giving cover. Killmonger led her to the secret emergency door that held the military boat.

"Wait! I have to get Mimi!" she yelped.

"Fuck that dog!" Killmonger yelled.

Portia pushed back on the tears that welled up in her eyes. Her poor baby was locked inside her little travel kennel. She'd die all alone in her crate without her Mommy. The yacht tipped to the side, knocked by another explosive. Killmonger helped her into the emergency boat and made her put on a life vest.

"Wait here," he said.

"Don't leave me!" she shrieked, clutching his free hand with desperate fingers.

"I have to check for other survivors on the yacht's crew."

Her heart thudded in her chest so fast it made her gasp for air. She sat inside the boat and grabbed one of the gray emergency blankets and pulled it around her, hiding down low in the boat in case an armed pirate burst in. Portia was small enough to look like a lumpy seat. The odor of smoke crept down to where she was, and after some time, she worried Killmonger was dead. She wanted to wait another ten minutes for him, and then figure out a way to get the boat out onto the water by herself before the entire yacht sank into the sea.

It became hard to breathe under the blanket. She made a little breathing space for herself where she could still be covered up, but the smoke from the fires above seeped down to where she was. The sounds of shooting had stopped. Silence took over, and she debated about going out to see if the pirates had left. Time kept ticking, and the boat listed. Adrenaline had kept her going. But now the tears flowed.

The emergency door burst open, and Portia held her breath and stayed perfectly still. Mimi's woozy and weak bark yapped for her. She threw off the blanket and Killmonger was there, carrying Mimi's travel kennel and a backpack. He handed Portia the dog and tossed the backpack on the boat. Pressing a few buttons on a side wall of the yacht, a release ramp opened and slid down toward the water. He pushed the boat more, and it slid easily with a quiet splash. The yacht leaned further over and they would have to hurry to avoid being sucked down with it.

Killmonger untied ropes that secured the boat to the off-ramp. His face was full of concentration and determination to get them out of there. He put the safety on his weapon and leaned over to drop it in the boat when a masked man wearing dark clothing similar to Killmonger's uniform charged him, jamming his AK-47 under his throat and choking him.

Killmonger flipped the man over onto his back, punched him once and whipped out a Glock from his waist, and blasted the man's forehead. Blood and brain matter splattered, and Portia was too shocked to scream. Killmonger leaped into the boat and started the quiet motor, guiding them away from the yacht. She watched the burning luxury boat slowly sink as they bounced across the water. The pirate boat that attacked them sat on the other side and she thanked God there was no moon because the flames from both ships burning distracted their attackers from seeing them. Portia closed her eyes and let the cool sea breeze dry the sweat of fear all over her. The further away they were, the safer she felt. Her breathing returned to normal once the yacht and the surrounding madness became a tiny shiny speck on the horizon.

Killmonger checked some guidance apps on his military watch computer and took them toward some uninhabited Greek island chains. After about forty minutes, they hid their getaway boat on a small rocky isle inside an island littoral cave that made Killmonger feel secure staying there until he could contact help. Waves had eroded away an opening in the limestone, creating a sea cave that hid and protected them from the elements. He stuck a small headlamp on his head, giving them the only light source to look around. Killmonger handed her one too, and she placed it around her forehead. He dragged the boat once they hit soft sand. The cavern was dark and warm, like a womb. There were flares and a bulky charged satellite phone on the boat.

"I'll use the phone tomorrow and shoot off a flare for rescue when it's safe. We may have to stay out here a few days," he said.

"A few days? Why that long?" she said.

"That was a coordinated attack. They'll be looking for survivors all night and tomorrow. They knew exactly how many people were on that yacht, and you and I are no longer there. It was a hit… on everyone," he said. "There's also a storm moving in and that will hinder rescue efforts."

"Maybe they'll think we drowned and just go," she reasoned.

"They will sweep for floating bodies. Trust me."

He stopped and looked at her hard. She had opened Mimi's crate and held her frightened dog on her lap.

"Portia… Quinton set this whole thing up. I saw and heard him talking with the hit squad when I grabbed Mimi. He left with them on the attack boat."

Portia shook her head.

"No… that's not true… Quinton's a tech guy. He doesn't know pirates and shit…"

"He's going to disappear like he's dead, too. Collect on all the insurance he had on everyone there and that yacht. You told me he was going broke. He fixed his financial problem by getting money for you, your friends, and his billionaire buddies. The men he hired are going to make sure you and I are dead, so we don't snitch on what really happened."

Portia looked down at Mimi and felt the blood rush to her head like she was going to pass out.

"I can't believe this. He killed all those people to save his ass financially."

Killmonger pulled out a cold bottle of water from the backpack he brought and handed it to her.

"Can we last for three days out here?" she asked.

He nodded and showed her a wide variety of goods stored on the boat.

"There's enough food on her for several days that could last a week if needed. Since there are only two of us, we can eat as much as we want and stretch it out if we have to. We have fresh water… blankets. Toilet paper, sunblock, bug spray. We're good. Just have to keep hidden from the clean-up crew."

Killmonger sounded confident, and Portia inhaled deeply. He saved her life and would protect her on their…

New home. She looked around the boat again. There was plenty of room on one end for them both to stretch out and rest. The weapons attached to the hull could thwart a small army. Portia sipped a little water, gave some to Mimi with a cupped hand, then placed the dog back in her kennel. She prayed her fur baby didn't bark after the sedative wore off completely.

Killmonger made soft pallets of extra blankets for them to sleep on while she turned off her light and stepped out of the boat. She walked back to the water. After rinsing the blood off of her body and shoes, she returned to him, and they both stretched out in opposite directions. She felt him move around on his end. Lifting to see what he was doing, she caught him taking off his uniform. He stripped down to his black boxer briefs and huddled back up under his covers. Portia changed positions and crawled to his end when her body spasmed. She rested against his back, spooning him to capture some of his warmth, hoping the shaking in her limbs would stop. Her body moved with uncontrollable, jerky movements and she felt cold. Killmonger faced her quickly and put his arms around her.

"What's happening to me? My arms and legs keep shaking," she whispered.

"You're going through adrenaline withdrawal. Shit was crazy that you went through, and your body was all keyed up for action. It's trying to get back to equilibrium."

"How do you seem so calm? Shouldn't you be shaking too?"

"I'm used to it. Don't worry. It won't last long."

He opened up his blanket to her, and she eased her face against his wide chest. The keloid scars were smooth and slippery-feeling against her skin. His heartbeat was a steady drumming to her ears. Her shallow breathing eventually evened out to match his, and she could rest calmly next to him. The scent of his skin had a soothing musk odor, some cologne mixed with his own sweat, giving off an intoxicating smell. He adjusted his body to give her more room, and she closed her eyes to sleep.

Waking up hours later, she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with the softest brown eyes. For the entire yacht trip, he always wore a scowl on his face with narrow cruel eyes that held disdain for her. Now… she looked at another man completely. A roar of water drew her attention back toward the opening of the cave. The light pastel colors of dawn greeted them with shades of turquoise and honey yellow bleeding into a blood-orange tapestry. The rising tide rolled in, gently pushing their boat against the sand, rocking their bodies like a mother's hand tending to a cradle. Killmonger had the boat fastened to a stake that he pounded into the sand to keep them from floating out into the sea while they slept.

Sitting up, she admired the view. The clear, tranquil water sparkled as the sun rose higher and the colors in the sky changed into new brighter hues. It took Portia's breath away, bringing tears to her eyes. The rust color of the cave's roof seemed to glow. In the distance, she noticed other island chain formations that probably never had a human walk on them. She wondered if the awe she felt was the same awe that God had when the heavens and the earth were made complete. The scene before her looked like a painting. She spent most of her life drinking, partying all night, burning through rich men's money, and sleeping hungover until noon. When had she ever witnessed a sunrise like the one spread before her sober eyes? What a way to enter a new year.

Porta laid her head back down and noticed that her bikini top had fallen off in her sleep. She was topless in front of him. Throwing an arm over her chest, she glanced around for her knitted top.

"Don't trip," he said with a grin.

He reached above his head and handed her a small container of grape juice. She took it and drank down the sweetness.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head no, the fruit juice helping revive her blood sugar. Pushing the blanket away from her lower body, she luxuriated in the balmy comfort of the air. Tilting her head back, she noticed an opening at the top of the cave that dropped a beam of early morning light on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the inside of her lids turn red from the sun bathing her more. A calloused finger stroked down the side of her cheek. Portia's eyes popped back open as Killmonger dragged his index finger against her skin. She lifted a finger and traced one of his keloid scars across his right pec. He was her hero. During the shootout and explosions, he had his eyes on her, making sure she was safe.

Killmonger dropped his head down and kissed her. She could taste toothpaste and fruit juice on his tongue. A static sound interrupted their joining, and he pulled away from her to pick up the satellite phone. He spoke in a rushed tone, giving coordinates and relaying a warning about the attack and Quinton's hand in it. There was a personal locator beacon with a strong GPS tracker he was going to keep on so they could find them. She closed her eyes and rested her head on her hands, letting Killmonger deal with everything. Soon after, he shut the phone off to save the battery. Turning to her, he stretched his arms and sighed.

"It's going to take time to reach us. The storm is sitting over Crete and moving slowly. Rough waves."

"But they are coming?" she asked.

"Yes."

Portia fell onto her back and stared up at the cave roof with relief. People knew where they were and would find them.

"I want to eat now," she said.

Killmonger pulled out MRE packages and small disposable plates. She dumped out a packet of southwest beef with black beans and tortillas. There was a chocolate banana nut muffin and apple slices mixed in a spice sauce, a cheese spread, and peanut butter. Portia made herself a burrito, and the food gave her the calories and energy she needed. Killmonger made them coffee over a small propane stove he put together and joined her with his own meal.

"Not bad," she said, stuffing the muffin in her mouth.

"We can have a white meat chicken salad with crackers and pasta for lunch," he said.

She wolfed down her burrito and wiped her lips. Finishing quickly, she let Mimi out of her cage and fed her from the packs of fancy dog food stored inside the kennel with her. She let the dog run around in the cave's interior to relieve herself. Mimi stayed away from the water and occupied her attention quietly by digging holes all in the back of the cave. Looking around, Portia was happy to see there was nothing inside the small cave with them except sand and the tiny beach made by the water lapping inside gently. Killmonger pulled out a large tan camouflage netting.

"Step out. Grab your top," he said.

Portia stunned herself by noticing she had stayed topless the entire time eating. She tied her titties up and draped her wrap skirt around her neck into a dress. She slipped on her platforms and picked up Mimi. Killmonger covered the boat up with the netting, blending it into the background of tan sand.

"Put the dog in its kennel so we can look around and I can plant this tracker up high," he said.

"She'll bark," she said.

Killmonger rolled his eyes.

"Then carry her," he said.

He pulled on his pants, and she eyed the bulge at his crotch. His flaccid state was bigger than Quinton's erect state. Portia checked herself for thinking sexy thoughts in their dire situation.

Dire?

It wasn't, really. They had all they needed and good people were coming for them. He placed several water bottles, a Glock, the satellite phone, and the beacon locator, inside a small pack and slung it around his shoulders. She followed him out of the cave, stepping on vast rock formations on the side to keep from getting her platforms wet. Climbing up the side of a hill, they made their way through brush and mostly barren land. There weren't very many trees and the ones that existed were small, or dead, and had fallen over. She kicked a few on the ground and they crumbled from contact, drier than the heat cooking their skin. Killmonger was already a shade darker, and it looked good on him. His biceps were beefy and darker brown. Her own dark skin took on a red tinge with her rich color. At a glance, they looked like tourists ambling about looking for t-shirts to buy for back home, not shipwrecked targets for death.

"Ow!"

Portia tripped on some sand and eroding rocks, bumping into Killmonger and almost knocking him over.

"Watch it," he barked.

"Sorry! I wasn't trying to bump into you—"

"Take those ridiculous shoes off so you can walk better—"

"It's too hot."

"No, it's not—"

"Yes, it is—"

They fussed like an old married couple all the way to the highest point of the island. He stuck the tracker in the ground and checked to make sure it was working properly. Gazing out at the sea around them, Killmonger lifted binoculars from his chest and peered out further.

"See anything?"

"No."

"That's a good sign, right?" she asked.

Portia put Mimi down so the dog could sniff around and urinate. Mimi happily sniffed and marked territory. When she padded over too close to a drop, Porta scooped her back up. There didn't seem to be any wildlife at all.

"Do you think there are a lot of snakes on this island?"

"Maybe. I haven't seen much scat or midden left behind," he said, searching the sea with the binoculars.

"What's that?"

"Scat is animal shit, and midden is their refuse… the food they've nibbled on and left behind. I only spotted some anthills and one bird so far. Not much to sustain a lot of snakes."

He glanced over at her.

"Just walk hard. Your vibration will scare them off. Keep that rat dog in sight, though."

"She's a Pomeranian."

"Looks like a rat dressed in a hot ass fur coat."

Portia looked at her baby. Mimi did pant. She grabbed a water bottle from Killmonger's pack and poured some on the dog.

"Whatchu doin'?! That's for drinking," Killmonger scolded.

"She's hot. I don't want her to get sunstroke."

He held his hand outstretched.

"We're surrounded by cool seawater. Dunk her rat ass in that. Stop wasting what we need to survive!"

Portia pouted.

"I wasn't thinking about that. I just wanted to help her."

"Let me do all the thinking then…" he grumbled.

They explored more, trekking around the entire island in under an hour. She dunked Mimi in a pool of water that came up from a natural aquifer of fresh water near the cave entrance. Killmonger grumbled again, so she walked her dog into the seawater and cooled them both off. He shut his mouth when she removed her beach wrap and frolicked with Mimi until a small wave knocked her poor pooch over. She walked out of the water dripping with her diamonds glittering, making her look like a Black Venus rising to the mortal world. He licked his thick lips, and she shuddered at the thought of that mouth on her body. Killmonger was bossy and so easily annoyed by her. However, he was also attracted to her and Portia played into that whenever he gave a tired sigh with her antics spoiling her fur baby. She made a little condo property for Mimi with her dog kennel. Moving it far back in the cave, she gave the dog a bowl of water and dried dog food with space to call her own to keep away from Killmonger. She decorated the front of the crate with pretty rocks and shells she collected and doted on her little one until Mimi fell asleep, farting from all the snack treats Portia gave her to help with the stress of a new environment.

He checked in with the rescue team on the phone and made them lunch. She sensed he felt more relaxed after finding fresh water on the island that they could use if they needed to. They ate in silence together, sitting on the sand and staring at the water. To be stranded on an island with a trained killer wasn't such an awful experience. Underneath the rough exterior was a man who held her hand to help her move around the island, and who also made sure she was hydrated. He pointed out natural formations of some of the island's geography around them and double-checked for snakes as they stepped over fallen trees. She gripped his arm when they moved into questionable areas, and at one point, she slipped her hand into his as he guided her back down toward the cave.

She took a nap on the sand and woke up to a crackling fire. Killmonger had gathered wood and dried brush, making a cozy glow that couldn't be seen from the narrow opening of the cave from the outside. They watched a new sliver of moon rise and a blanket of blue-black sky rest over the island for the night. She grinned and nibbled on chocolate chip cookies, humming and rocking on her backside as she ate. He laughed at her.

"What?" she said

"You look like a little kid on a girl scout campfire trip," he teased.

"Funny, because I used to be a girl scout."

"A girl scout… and you didn't know what scat and midden were?"

"I must've missed that part. I just looked good in the uniform," she said.

He smiled, and the bright, genuine light it brought to his face made him even more handsome. Killmonger was fine, no doubt, but there was something else deep within him that made him even more attractive. She thought of the way he lifted her up with one arm, shooting with the other as he rushed her to safety. His eyes always slid over to hers, even before the attack, when they were floating in tranquility. Portia had teased him sexually, doing things to get a rise out of him. It had started as a dismissive act, letting him see what he would never have in life, and it changed into active taunting, daring him to step up to the challenge so she could smack him down and belittle his audacity to think he was ever on her level.

Sitting in a cave with a peaceful campfire, her gaze on him brought clarity. She had been attracted to him the moment he put her in check on their first meeting. People always did what she wanted, and he had been the first man to push back on her attitude. She picked at him every time he showed up in her face.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said.

"You couldn't afford my thoughts," she said in a playful tone.

He smirked, then added more wood to the fire. Her eyes drifted up to watch the smoke go through the hole in the high roof.

"You think they're done looking for us? Should we even have a fire with the smoke floating… they could see it."

"By now, they should think we're dead. They never saw us leave on the boat and the yacht is at the bottom of the ocean by now, so they can't even check to see about the emergency escape, even if Quinton mentioned it. I won't have this going for long," he said.

"I like it," she said, holding her hands and feet up, warming her fingers and toes.

They didn't need the extra warmth. The cave was already cozy, but it brought comfort to their predicament.

"I'll sleep out here tonight and keep watch," he said. "I'll have to hike around a bit too, to check in other directions from the top."

She looked around for a blanket or pallet on the sand. There was nothing to lie on. Perhaps his soldier ways let him sleep cross-legged and upright. Her eyes became drowsy. Standing and stretching, she stared out at sea, admiring the sizeable chunk of island rock that faced across from their private paradise.

"I thought a storm was coming," she said.

"It is. Can't you feel the temperature drop? The sky is changing too. Won't hit until later tonight, and it won't be as bad out here. The sheer rock of that island over there is shielding us, and the tide doesn't get very high in here. We're good," he said.

She nodded.

"Night," she called.

"Night," he said.

She checked on Mimi, then snuggled inside the boat with the blankets. Killmonger went and grabbed the solar lights that he sat out in the sun all day and brought into the cave, jamming them down in the sand near the boat. He even posted two by Mimi's kennel because Portia told him the dog was nervous about being in the dark. Her mind tried to stay positive. She wondered how bad the storm could be if the hole at the top of the roof flooded with rainwater. Killmonger didn't appear concerned, so she let the thought drop.

After an hour, a soft splash of water forced her to lift and see what the noise was. Mimi hated water, so there were no worries there. Portia spotted Killmonger on the far side of the cave, splashing his naked feet into the liquid heaven.

"Lord," she whispered into her own mouth, watching him.

He was totally nude and moved his body with an assured grace that made him look like Poseidon returning to the sea. She could not stop staring at his taut glutes and powerful thighs. His keloid scars were all over his back, too. Killmonger walked in waist-deep before dunking his head underwater and wetting his locs. He ran a hand over his hair and shook them, stretching his arms out wide, traveling deeper into the sea until she could only see his head. Going under a few times, he moved closer to shore, and she noticed the small bottle of liquid soap in his hand. He washed all over, rubbing his muscles, and cleaning between his toes and elsewhere. Rinsing off, he dropped the bottle of soap on the sand for later and put on his pants without his boxer briefs. He padded back over to the dying fire and stopped when he saw Mimi sitting near his previous seat.

"Getcho ass back in that kennel," he ordered.

Mimi only sat and stared at him.

He sat down next to the pampered pooch and placed Mimi on his lap. Portia giggled and hid under the blankets.

Smoke and flashes of a blazing fire blinded her eyes. The shouts of fear and the odor of fresh blood grounded her back on the yacht. She had moved so slowly. Champagne and the thrill of fireworks put her in a loopy mood and the horror of the attack froze her and probably saved her life. Tiana and Carlos ran and Portia stood there like a statue, her mind trying to fathom what was wrong with the scenario before she was tackled by the running dead and free-falling onto her back.

"No!"

Portia shot up inside the boat, her heart jackhammering in her chest. Her throat clogged with a scream as she relived the attack. Staring at her shaking hands in front of her face, she expected to see blood and brain matter again as another scream ripped from her lips.

"Hey, it's okay… shhh… it's only a nightmare…"

Killmonger jumped into the boat with her and the fading dream had her beating his chest thinking he was an attacker. The lucidity made her claw at his face and he pulled her into his chest, rocking her, cooing soft words into her ear to bring her back to reality and the safety of the cave. Mimi whined behind her and the sound of the dog snapped her to the present. She fell apart then, wailing into Killmonger's chest, her mouth wide open and unable to close as if the terror she endured would crawl out of her throat. Quinton tried to kill her. Her body could've been at the bottom of the sea becoming fish food and no one would know the truth of what he did to her or all of their so-called friends. Portia moaned and jammed a hand against her mouth.

"You're good, Portia. I'm here and we're okay. Just a bad dream…"

She looked up at his face, then wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned back in the boat, letting her rest on top of him. He stroked her spine and his rough hands on her bare skin brought her back from the brink of totally losing all control of her emotions. She wiped her eyes and covered her face, weeping quietly against him.

"I was waiting for this. Some people take longer to process what happened to them. You tried your best to act like you were okay all day," he whispered.

Her breath shuddered as his soothing voice and hands brought her into a calm state.

"I was so scared," she said.

"I know."

"It was so fast and… I couldn't move…"

"You did well considering all that was happening at one time… even wiped blood on yourself to fool them. That's thinking on your toes, Ma. Most people just scream and holler, then get caught up in the shock. You ran and did what you had to do."

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered.

"That was my job."

His fingers dragged up and down her spine, making her skin feel tingly and warm. She crawled off of him and snuggled into his side, hiding her face in his chest. Portia enjoyed being there. It felt comfortable and safe. He stroked her arms and tried to leave her side to return to his post, but she gripped his arm and pulled him back next to her.

"Don't go," she said.

A soft sprinkle of rain fell on the water. The storm had arrived. The pleasant patter of droplets striking the sea eased her mind and body. Her nightmare faded, easily forgotten, while cozied up against him.

"Try to sleep," he said.

Killmonger rested his head on the makeshift pillow his work jacket made and she stared into his eyes. The solar lights gave her a soft ambiance to look at him with.

"By tomorrow evening, they should be near enough where I can shoot a flare so they can pick us up. Hang on to that thought," he said.

She nodded into his shoulder and released a final shudder that loosened all the tension in her body. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her fingers across the top of his naked chest, feeling the slick contours of his keloids against the pads of her fingertips. Tracing her fingers under his neck, she took a bold step and ran her finger across his full lips. Raising herself higher, Portia kissed him, enjoying the sensation of warm plush fullness outlining her own plump softness. His lips smothered hers as he took over the kissing. She expected a feral roughness with him, but he was buttery soft and so gentle with her mouth. Even his large tongue surprised her with how seductively slow it was exploring the inside of her mouth. Their kisses were languid and so unrushed that she could almost fool herself into thinking that they had been lovers in some other past life together. There was no clumsy fumbling newness as their tongues sought an understanding of their changed physical relationship.

She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, and he smiled. He kissed his own trail down her face and onto her neck where he buried those sharp gold teeth and nibbled on her throat, shooting sparks of pleasure down to her toes and back. Groaning out loud, she delighted in his fingers pinching her nipples through her bikini top. She untied it and freed her breasts. His hand palmed their fullness, and she glanced down at his crotch. His dick tented his pants. She helped unfasten them, releasing his erection. It was a hot, rigid thing in her hand and his head fell back, allowing a deep groan to release from his mouth.

"Stroke that shit," he huffed into her neck while untying the bottom of her bikini himself.

She moved over as he wiggled out of his pants and gasped when she saw his dick and balls together. Her pussy throbbed while looking at the heft and length. Pre-cum pearled at his tip and ran down the sides and she helped slicken that big dick in a hurry, eliciting more guttural moans from him. She liked the pleasurable sounds falling from his lips and squeezed her fingers around the bulbous tip. The hole there opened wider and clear fluid drizzled onto the gap of her thumb and index finger.

"Fuck, baby," he gasped when she twisted and tugged under the ridge.

His fingers found her clit and her pussy wasted no time becoming slick and wet, her folds opening up for him like a blooming rose. He stared between her legs, licked his lips, and flashed those gold slugs. She lost control of the tremors making her body weak for him. Slick sounds met his fingers, and he played with her pussy lips until she was begging for him to do more.

"Play with your pussy. Lemme see you do what you did on the boat when you were teasing me," he huffed.

Her diamond-crusted fingernails made her pussy so pretty for him. She could see his arousal grow in his glassy eyes. She rubbed her clit, then held her folds open. He licked his fingers and stuck them in her mouth. She sucked on them, showing him everything she could do for his dick. He closed his eyes and his lips parted. Panting, he played in her mouth. His big dick twitched and jumped against her thigh, spewing more pre-cum.

"Lemme play in this pussy," he begged.

She opened her legs, and he inserted two fingers inside of her opening, gently testing the limits of what she could take. Portia whimpered when he started tapping on the sides of her walls, flicking his fingers back and forth like a butterfly fluttering away. He knew how to stimulate pussy. Killmonger wasn't rough or jerky with his movements either. He watched her face to read what she could handle from him and kissed her often, slow and steady, binding Portia to him like he was kissing a magic spell into her mouth, conjuring more pleasure from the nerves that woke up all over her writhing body. He fingered her pussy and sucked on her nipples, turning her body into mush that the sea could wash away with the tide.

"Listen to that pussy… fuck… I knew this shit was good… fuck…" he moaned.

"Killmonger," she cried out as his fingers hit spots in her that hadn't been touched in so long.

"You loved showing this pussy to me. So fat in this bikini. Letting me see these pussy lips all the time… teasing me…"

He pulled his fingers out against the clenching she began doing around them. He sucked her juices from his fingers and admired the frothy wetness that glistened all over her puffy folds. Slapping her vulva, he stood up and forced her to her knees.

"Suck this dick," he commanded.

Portia obeyed, jumping to her knees and swallowing his dick head like it was her last meal in life. He pushed his dick in further and her mouth stretched around it. She pressed her hand on his stomach to control the depth, but he slapped her face. The shock of the sting aroused her, and she stared up at him with heated eyes and a throbbing pussy.

"You gon' take this dick how I feed it to you… spoiled bitch. Now suck on it… put those fucking hands away. I want all mouth, Portia."

Portia opened her mouth wider, and he went in deeper. She gagged while trying to suck and slurp, and her eyes watered, but Killmonger slapped the other side of her face, disappointed with her performance.

"I thought you were better than this. You can't handle this dick?"

Her forehead creased with anger. She always gave world-class head. No man had ever complained about her oral skills. She gripped the root of his dick and he slapped her hands away.

"I said all mouth, and I meant all mouth!"

He pushed her back, and the anger that sat on his face excited her. Killmonger wasn't pleased at all. She licked his balls and kissed her way back to his dick again to try better. Taking her time, she licked around the slit and under the head, coating her tongue with all the pre-cum that dripped from him. He dragged his tip across her lips, making them glossy, and nudged the seam of her lips back open.

"Let's see if you can do better," he said.

She adjusted her knees with the blankets and sucked on that dick tip, using her full concentration. Her suction with her lips improved, and she even grazed her teeth gently around him to switch up her performance. He treated her like a little puppet that needed her strings pulled when she didn't suck to his satisfaction. She worked her ass off to get a groan, a moan, or a "Good girl," to drip from his sexy lips. He patted her head and sometimes pulled her braids to force her lips to do better.

"How are you gonna pull that nut outta Daddy when you stay playin' like that? Huh? Is this your best?" he asked.

She popped his dick out of her mouth with a torrent of saliva falling onto her breasts and pouted.

"Not as good as you thought you were. Do better," he said, shoving his dick back in.

Portia wanted to cry. She gave him grade A head, and it still wasn't up to par. All the tricks she had used over the years to get men off failed her. There were moments when she thought she had made a breakthrough, but he grumbled and told her she was not even close to getting him off.

"Look up at me when you suck that dick," he said.

Frustrated, she gazed up at him as he deep-throated her neck. That gorgeous face and big ass lips had her pussy clenching on nothing but air. Her walls felt so swollen and ached for his dick to lay her out. A few tears streaked down her face as her frustration grew.

"That's a good girl. Now take some more of Daddy's dick. Show me you can follow directions," he said.

She wanted to please him so badly. He played with her nipples and breasts as she worked her neck, throating him down as best she could. Her loud gawking echoed throughout the cave.

"Jaws getting tired?" he teased in a mean tone.

He pulled his dick out and glared at her.

"Tell Daddy you're sorry for letting him down with that mouth," he demanded.

The gruff tone ignited the ache in her clit. He threaded the braids in the back of her head with the fingers of his left hand and tilted her head while fisting his dick. He gently yanked on her hair.

"What I say? Tell Daddy you're sorry for that trash sucking," he barked.

"I can do better," she pleaded.

"You had a long time to show me, and it didn't happen."

He grunted and stared at her ripe lips, his right hand working that length like he was ready to burst. Gripping her head with his hand, he bared his slugs.

"Sorry, Daddy—"

"For what?" he gasped, narrowing his eyes as he brought his tip closer to her whimpering mouth.

"—for not sucking your dick right. Please, I can suck your dick so good!"

Portia fondled her left breast and groped between her legs to flick her clit. Begging him for a chance to prove herself was the only goal she had in life. She needed him to cum… couldn't take her next breath until he was satisfied. Killmonger had scorn written all over his expression.

"Daddy, I'm sorry…" she whined.

"Oh fuck, dassit, dassit!" he shouted.

Hot cum shot out in thick ropes all over her cheeks and lips, accompanied by a roar from his throat that enhanced his release. She opened her mouth to catch the last drops of his orgasm and she came all over her own fingers while enjoying the pure ecstasy on his straining face.

"Damn, Portia… oh… baby… shit!"

Another streak of cum shot out, and he aimed it for the other side of her face. His ejaculate dripped down, and she rubbed it onto her chest, showing him how much it meant to have him all over her breasts. He gave a low laugh and stumbled back.

"Whew… damn, girl. I was tryna hold back for so long. Your head game is fucking superb."

She licked her fingers and then stared at him.

"You were playing with me?" she asked.

"Not at first. You're used to simps being satisfied with the bare minimum. I'm a grown-ass man who needs you to show and prove with this dick. It's not for the weak, and you showed the fuck out."

He lifted her up, and she didn't want him to do anything else until she had wiped her face and chest off with a wet wipe. Killmonger hugged and kissed her afterward. They stood in the boat, necking until she couldn't take any more. She climbed him like Santa Claus was bearing gifts and wrapped her legs around him.

"I want you sitting on my mouth," he said between desperate kisses from her lips.

She slid down his body and he situated himself comfortably on the blankets. Portia squatted over his face and planted her pussy on his lips. He let it rest there, feeling the wetness all over before humming and moaning into her flesh.

"Ooh," she moaned, scissoring her clit.

He slapped her fingers away, and she looked down at him. The glow from the lamps made his eyes a liquid brown dream, and he slathered that wide tongue up and down her folds, circling her clit with the tip. He held onto her ass cheeks and she mewled and bit her bottom lip to keep from hollering out his name. Killmonger slapped both of her ass cheeks before sliding his hands under and over her thighs to lock her down on his tongue. He made it stiff, and she lifted herself to let him insert it nice and snug inside of her. Cradling her breasts, Portia went up and down and he fucked her with tongue, lips, and groans that vibrated her folds.

"Killmonger!" she yelled, not caring if pirates, snakes, Mimi, the Coast Guard, or God heard her cries of pleasure.

His tongue was delectable on her pussy and inside of it. The strength of his hands supporting her, his burning gaze rooting her to his lips… everything about him gave her chills. The effort to cum was minimal. Her orgasm shattered her ability to think clearly anymore. She babbled something or other like she was talking in tongues at her old church back in South Carolina. Bucking and yelping made no difference. That man was going to turn her pussy out. She whimpered and fell forward, unable to move any limbs. His laughter at pleasing her bounced all over the cave and she joined him, reveling in the joy that their bodies could share with one another.

Killmonger held Portia carefully in his arms as they kissed.

The taste of the deepest part of her stayed on his tongue and he shared the gift of that with her. She clung to him as if she feared him disappearing into the wet, rainy night. He had to do a patrol and fished around for night vision goggles he found stashed in a sideboard on the boat. Putting on his pants and combat boots, he didn't bother to wear a t-shirt and just tossed on his black jacket. He stuffed the satellite phone into an inside pocket and strapped his Glock around his thigh.

Portia watched him under the blankets, staring up at him with so much lust that it tempted him to forego an island sweep to stay with her. Grabbing an unfinished water bottle, he knelt down next to her and pressed his warm lips against her forehead.

"Keep it hot for me," he said, winking at her.

He wasn't finished with her by a long shot. They only experienced oral sex, each taking turns to taste and learn the other's private parts intimately.

Killmonger trudged out of the cave with Portia's scent on his beard. He placed the night vision goggles on once he was out of her sight. He hiked around, searching the sea even as a light rain came down on him. Without Portia being with him, he could get around fast. He turned on the phone and checked for any missed calls from the Greek Coast Guard. They were operating under extreme weather conditions on their end, despite the mild display on their side. Killmonger was glad that they found a place to hide that shielded them. He hoped the bad weather stayed outside of Crete and didn't follow their rescue unit.

Nothing unusual appeared on the horizon. Confident that they were in the clear, he took a moment to let the soft rain bathe his face. He hiked back to Portia and rinsed himself off before getting back into their boat bed with her naked again. She threw her arms around him like she was his woman, greeting her man after a hard day's work.

Oh, how the tables had turned!

Hiding away turned her into a bubbly, humorous woman who sought beauty all around her. It mesmerized him, watching the glow on her face as the sunrise brought her to tears that morning. She was thankful for the plain food they had to eat, and she didn't complain too much about their situation or bug him about checking the phone more than he did. His leadership and take-charge attitude allowed her to fall back into a space of just living in the present. He liked that version of her and wondered if the ice princess persona would return once they were rescued. Killmonger hoped not.

He sank his tongue back in her eager mouth and they kissed for an hour, stopping to catch their breath and caress each other. Her eyes became dewy for him and she couldn't stop touching him or being hugged up next to him. He made her lay back and played with her clit, dipping his finger inside her pussy just to watch it contract around his fingers, trying to keep them inside.

His dick became a turgid beast and hung heavy between his thighs. There were no condoms available. He had some on the yacht where he thought he might need them if he found a babe to his liking, but the only woman who turned him on was Portia. On the ship, he knew there was no way they would ever hook up. He wanted to fuck the boldness out of her back then, just to wipe that bitch queen attitude off her face. It baffled him at how quickly she wanted to submit to his domination of her body with his. He had suspected she wanted to be dominated, but not that fast.

Killmonger could've busted a nut all over her from the first ten minutes of sucking she did, but he pushed her to the limit to see if she would fight his heckling of her throat game. How he was able to keep control over his release was a miracle. He was ready to blow his load when she spit on his dickhole and cradled his balls in her hand, staring up at him with those formerly insolent cat eyes. Killmonger kept pushing her until she broke and gave him what he wanted. Her apology made him cum so hard. All he could think about was her telling him to shut the fuck up when he told her about herself. That woman got on her knees and sucked the glory out of his dick. Begged to please him. That shit amped him up.

Portia held his dick in her capable hands. They both wanted to fuck.

God!

Nice tits. A dangerous ass. Mouth game beyond ridiculous. How was Quinton not in that woman twenty-four-seven the entire time on that yacht? Portia walked around with that prize pussy, advertised it to the world all week with skimpy swimsuits, and Killmonger regretted not throwing caution to the wind and just stepping to her. Game peeped game. They could fuck and fight afterward. She was most definitely throwing hints he could get it on the yacht, but he stayed professional.

He leaned down and sucked on her neck. She panted, squirming against him, and he fingered her pussy slowly until she squeezed her eyes shut and her mouth fell open in agony.

"Fuck… I wish I could give you what you need, girl," he groaned into her ear.

She touched his scars like they were precious to her.

"You can," she said in a hushed voice.

"Without a condom?" he said.

Her gaze didn't flinch, and she pouted those succulent lips.

"I almost got killed. I'm stranded on an island with a mercenary. A hurricane could blow through here and end us both tonight. I have nothing to lose," she said.

Shit.

Killmonger regarded her face to make sure she was serious.

"I'm checked for STIs every three months," he said.

"Six months for me. I've been with Quinton for a couple of years. We normally use condoms and have unprotected for special occasions only. He's a germaphobe and I'm pretty sure Tiana was his first outside fuck. I'm on the pill, and… well… like I said, tomorrow isn't promised. This entire trip taught me that."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Trust. I want to. Been wanting to."

She grinned and ran her hand over his locs, rolling the end of one between her fingers.

"I have, too. All that teasing was to get your attention."

"You had it the moment you walked on board that yacht. I didn't like you… but I liked your confidence," he said.

He played with the end of one of her braids and fondled a diamond hair jewel.

"Are you like this in private, when you aren't being theatrical with all the spotlights?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Unguarded. Open. Friendly."

"Sometimes. I run with a crowd that I have to have a protective shell with all the time."

"Sad life."

"What about you? You also put on an act. You're not mean all the time," she said.

"I'm direct. There's a difference. My job is life or death in precarious places with dangerous people."

"Have you ever lost an entire team before?"

"No. This was a major hit. Practically overkill. There were about ten men compared to my five, and they were using high-grade explosives. Most pirates want hostages or the ship itself. Those people came there for one thing. Do a wet job and bounce. You and I aren't supposed to be alive, Portia."

He cradled her in his arms. The scent of her hair was sugary sweet, like some exotic fruit and nutmeg. Their ardor cooled with their private thoughts and Killmonger listened to the rush of water lapping onto the cave shore. The wind picked up and howled down from the four-foot hole in the ceiling. He stayed awake and Portia slept deeply, the rise and fall of her chest soothing to him. If she had another nightmare, she'd wake up with him holding her. At two in the morning, he snuck away to patrol again. Heavier storm clouds accumulated in the distance and he expected stronger weather soon. A boom of thunder and spidery streaks of lightning zig-zagged across the sky. He popped the collar on his jacket and used his night vision goggles. A vast emptiness stretched out before him. For all he knew, they were the only people in the entire world. The cell phone had poor reception and the battery life was low. Hell, if no one showed up, they'd have to chance it back on the water. There were paddles and he'd get them to Crete one way or another with his own arm power once all the gas was used. He flipped on the locator beam's distress signal light. Survival was second nature to him. They would make it out.

Killmonger took his time going back to the cave. The darkness, the wind, and the rain comforted his mood.

No more civilian gigs.

He took the job as a favor to Clark, but he missed the offensive action of being in foreign countries. He'd give Clark a piece of his mind when he got back. The men he put together for Killmonger should not have allowed those killers to get that close. He had four men on water detail in all directions, and they allowed a boat to hit them swiftly and deadly. They were all executed, so he doubted they were in on the take. He would've caught on right away that it was a set-up when he first arrived. The attack crew had to have used a submersible to plant the explosives against the hull. It was something he would've done.

A heavier thunderstorm arrived, and he jogged back to the cave.

Portia was still asleep. Mimi was up, digging holes in the back of the cave, too distracted to bark or whine at him for attention. He took off his jacket and boots, climbing back beside Portia for warmth. She had curled into the fetal position under a blanket and looked so vulnerable. The cooler air and rain on his body made him shiver a bit, and he went to make another fire.

By early morning, the storm kicked up and the tide level in the cave increased. It wasn't enough to make them leave because the giant boulders and jagged smaller island formations surrounding the cave kept the larger waves from crashing to shore on them. The gigantic grayish-black clouds made the interior darker, adding to the dreary atmosphere as large raindrops showered their private beach.

Portia ate a cold-weather MRE of scrambled eggs, fruit bars, oatmeal, and a bland trail mix. He made them coffee again and ate his own meal before catching some sleep. With no phone reception and the bad weather making visibility terrible, he could afford to rest for an hour or two. He listened to Portia bathe on the other side of the cave. She hummed with a pleasant voice and spent some time by the fire alone with her dog.

The storm kept them quiet, and they became occupied with other things rather than each other until she found a kit of tiny board games inside a sealed bag. There were checkers, chess, Tic Tac Toe, and a deck of cards. They played speed with the cards and hunkered down to play checkers before lunch. Hunger and lunch skipped them as they got into a serious chess match. Later, they both played with Mimi, letting the dog chase them around the cave until Erik shouted bloody murder and flailed his arms around.

"What is it? What is it?" Porta shrieked, scared out of her wits.

"A spider dropped down on me!"

Portia blinked a few times, then burst out laughing. He swiped at his locs and a quarter-sized furry brown arachnid fell out of his hair and scurried on the sand. Mimi chased after it and they both beat pieces of wood on the ground trying to smash it. The dog gobbled it up and Portia grabbed her stomach from laughing so hard.

"Your big butt was scared of that little thing? I thought a tarantula fell on you!" she cackled.

"It's all the legs that creep me out, and they move real sneaky," he grumbled, embarrassed that he showed a weakness in front of her.

"Poor baby," Portia said, patting his back, "Mimi saved you."

He chased after Portia and lifted her over his shoulder, spanking her backside for teasing him. Another bigger spider dropped from the roof and landed on Portia. She damn near came out of her own skin trying to swipe it out of her hair. Killmonger let her run around like a chicken with its head cut off to teach her a lesson about making fun of him. She walked around with the heebie-jeebies afterward, terrified more spiders would come raining down on them like a horror movie. Rain, thunder, and spiders were forgotten when they crawled back into the boat together for a nap. She traced the shape of his scars with her fingers again, and he rested his chin on her head.

"I know this sounds crazy, but I really like it here with you," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

She nodded against his chest.

"I thought I would go stir crazy, but I'm actually grateful to sit still. Weird, huh? No TV. Internet. People. Just peace. No distractions. No one to impress or look good for. It feels like we're Adam and Eve here."

"No apples or snakes, though," he joked.

"What do you do when you don't work?"

"I sit still. Like this."

"Where?"

"That's classified information."

"Really."

"The less you know about me, the better."

"Is Killmonger even your real name?"

"No."

She never asked for his name. He was glad. She took the hint.

"We'll never see each other again after this," she said.

"No, we won't," he said with finality.

"You make me laugh, and you're a skilled chess player."

"You're not too bad yourself."

Portia sat up and took off her bikini again. Her eyes were loving and drank in his face. She helped him undress, then kissed him all over his face, touching his chin, and giving her lips to him before kissing down his chest, following the trail of hairs below his belly button until she had his dick in her mouth. She bobbed her head, and he said her name softly, praising her for how good she made him feel. Pushing him back, she held his dick upright and aligned it with her opening. He held his breath as she sank down on him. She grunted when she reached the bottom. His dick had her folds stretched all around him tight, creating a snug suction as she went up and down, taking her time. They locked eyes, and the arousal overwhelmed him. He gazed at their connection like he was in a daze and her pussy made his thickness shiny and slick. Portia rode him so well that his back arched and he lifted to press her against his chest as he thrust into her. Up and down she went, caressing her nipples, those expensive, icy-looking fingernails highlighting the hidden treasure that she was beneath all the posturing.

He had looked down on Portia before meeting her, his disdain at her Sugar Baby ways clouding his judgment on who she really was as an individual sans the glitz. Fucking him like that in a hollow cave on a lone island proved to him she was worth pampering and spoiling. If he had the money, he'd spend it on her himself. The pussy taking care of his dick was priceless.

"Turn around," he gasped.

Portia lifted and swung her legs the other way, leaning forward as she wiggled her backside for him. He palmed a fat cheek and her pussy swallowed his dick. She rocked back on him and he was blessed to watch her ass jiggle and his dick stretch her out at the same time. He whimpered in his throat with his entire face scrunched up at the intense pleasure. She rode the tip of his dick, and then placed those diamond nails on her ass cheeks, spreading them wide so he could see her pussy work. He slipped his thumb in her ass, and Portia moaned. She drenched his dick and the gushy sounds harmonized with his groans.

She showed out.

Circling her waist, she twisted her pussy on his dick and he couldn't take it anymore. He slapped her ass and forced her onto her hands and knees. Clapping her cheeks was the goal, and he made Portia call out his name as he gave her what she needed. Her pussy became disrespectful, and he tamed her depths, gripping her waist and deep dicking her nice and slow.

"Killmonger… Killmonger… Killmonger…" she panted.

The need to dominate surged in his loins. Flipping her over, he forced her to take the dick she so richly deserved. The pillow princess vanished and in her place was an erotically in-tune woman with full-body engagement. He threw her legs over his shoulders and cursed at how satisfying her pussy felt all around him. She had to have diamonds on her walls because whatever amount of money rich men spent on her wasn't enough. Her grip on his dick had him moaning and choking up his curse words in his throat. She took him deeper and his glutes clenched tight, helping him pump death strokes into her. The cave was full of squelching and grunts, and he watched their shadows moving on the cave walls from the fire. Her hips wiggled seductively, and he hunched down low to kiss her lips and feel her breasts smashed against his chest. They were beyond fucking at that point, moving into the primal state like they were the first man and woman to ever make love.

Scooting to her side, he held her legs up and stroked her walls from a new angle that knocked the sense out of her. Those pouty lips stayed open and her eyes took on a glazed look as if she couldn't believe what was happening to her. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and she glanced down to watch his dick ruin her. She chewed on her lip when she saw what was happening to her pussy. He snaked his hips and hit another angle within her and she called out to God. He stayed working that spot, stroking it until his body became a stiff plank focused on only one task: making her cum hard on his dick.

She rubbed on her clit, and those pretty nails had his balls moving.

"Baby… I feel it… 'bout to cum…" he gasped.

"You wanna cum in my pretty pussy?"

The wantonness in her voice urged him on.

"Pussy so good… fucking me so good… dick so hard…" he chuffed with abandon

"You want to make a big mess in my pussy?"

Her voice electrified him. It pushed him to give her his best and yet it challenged him like she was internally comparing him to others and he was coming up short. It was arousing, but it irked him too.

"Take it… take Daddy's dick," he grunted.

Her eyes changed, became coquettish, and it threw him off. His skin was on fire and dripped with sweat, and the sound of her voice encouraged him to tame that pussy. She dared him to. Portia's face transformed into a woman who wanted some Daddy dick to control her. Her right hand fondled the nape of his neck and those long nails scraped there with seductive pressure.

"I don't know if I can take all this dick the way you want," she taunted. "So big…"

He groaned, and she latched on to that sign of weakness.

"You're taking it… all this dick," he grunted.

"Are you sure? I'm trying to make it all fit for you," she said, all breathy.

"Oh, fuck!"

What was she doing? Playing coy? She acted like some virgin who had never had dick before. Her tone was ultra-feminine. She tucked the nail of her index finger between her teeth and looked down at his dick stretching those sweet walls. Her eyes were wide with wonder at the sight, and that coquettish energy fed him what he needed. Dominance.

"Nobody fuck you like this?" he grunted.

She shook her head and kept her eyes on his dick, with that finger still in her mouth.

"Fuck my pussy," she said.

She looked at him with sweet, innocent eyes.

"Goddammit!" he cried out. "Spread those pussy lips!"

Portia widened those sticky folds and the sides of her fingers glided along his dick as he gave her all that he had left. She kept her finger in her mouth with her other hand and her beauty pushed him to the brink. He mounted her again in missionary and his sweat fell on her like the rain falling on the water. She kept her legs up, that pussy open, and that damn lone finger between her lips. Her reckless eyes gazed at him and his dick swelled.

"I'm cumming! Oh shiiitttttt, I'm cumminggggg," he yelled.

He shoved his hips forward and Portia pursed her lips. She squirmed and lost the battle to hold on.

"Ohmigod… Killmonger!" she shouted.

Her head fell back and her pussy contracted with strong clenches all along his erection. Their shouts of pleasure intertwined and became one with the back and forth of their bodies squeezing and throbbing together. He caught himself before collapsing on her, pulling out his dick and fisting the last of his cum all over her clit. She was a pool of sweat and satisfaction, and they gasped for air, staring at the cave ceiling. The rain continued to fall.

Portia curled against his chest.

Sleep came fast.

He woke up, and she was gone. So was Mimi.

Killmonger called to them before putting on his clothes and grabbing his pack. It was only early evening, and the rain had stopped. Fat gray clouds still squatted over their island, but the storm's driving power had moved on. He found Portia and Mimi at the peak near the beacon.

"Went for a walk," she said.

He sat down next to them and pet the dog on the head. Mimi licked his hand. Pulling out the binoculars, he checked the sea. A cool breeze ruffled his locs. The wind was still strong, and the water had a few whitecaps.

Wait…

There!

A ship.

Killmonger honed in for the telltale signs of Coast Guard markings. There was a Greek flag waving from the gray and white ship. Greek lettering in big white caps spelled out Hellenic Coast Guard. He watched it approach to make sure it was the real deal before pulling out the flare gun and shooting it. Dark orange smoke shot up high in the sky.

"It's them?" Portia squealed.

"Yep."

She hugged Mimi, and he turned on the emergency cell. The power went out, but he didn't care. He held Portia's hand, and they walked down to the cave. There was nothing to do but push their emergency boat into the water. It had just enough gas left to power them out into the open sea. Killmonger didn't want to wait for them to send a smaller boat. He needed Portia in a safe place fast with Greek government protection.

They sped out on the water, bouncing on the choppy waves. Porta kept looking behind her like she wanted to keep the image of their island in her mind. He gave her his outer shirt to wear on top of her bikini. She curled her legs under her wrap dress.

Killmonger aligned their boat against the large Coast Guard ship and the crew helped Portia up on a side ladder. He tied their boat to the larger one and knotted a rope around Mimi's dog crate so a crew member could help the dog get on board. Finally, he climbed up himself. The captain of the ship greeted them and gave them both blankets and hot coffee. Portia was damn near teary-eyed and she pressed herself against Killmonger, afraid to leave his side.

"Come inside," the captain said when the weather picked up outside.

They followed the man into a busy interior and sat down on cushioned seats that felt good after sitting on the sand and a hard boat bottom. A crew member handed them mugs filled with a thick Greek soup. They ate and Portia asked to use the head. She was led away further into the interior. The weathered-face captain asked him some questions and Killmonger's sixth sense kicked in.

Something was wrong.

There were too many men on the ship not dressed appropriately. Only the captain and a lieutenant had on a proper Greek Coast Guard uniform with their ranks on them. The others had dark clothing without rankings or insignias. The captain gave a weak smile and the perspiration on his forehead didn't go with the cool interior. Killmonger kept his tone normal.

"How soon can we make it back to the mainland?" he asked, thrusting his empty mug out for more hot coffee.

"It will take time. The weather has been tricky. We almost lost your signal," he said.

Killmonger nodded and moved over to a window. He counted the other men outside to get an accurate assessment of what he was up against and thanked his lucky stars that he opted to keep his Glock under his jacket. When he contacted the coast guard for help originally, he kept his identity vague, pretending to be a guest of Quinton. The attack team must've intercepted the Greek Coast Guard for their own nefarious use as a getaway ship. It had become a death trap for him and Portia.

Portia returned, all chipper. Her ice princess personality snapped back like a rubber band. She glanced at him and he pretended things were all good.

"Hey, baby, put Mimi back in her cage. We don't want her running around," Killmonger said.

The forced affection in front of the others surprised her. She walked over to the dog kennel near him and bent down to place Mimi inside it. After she locked the crate, Killmonger slipped an arm around Portia's waist and gently had her sit next to him.

"More soup?" The captain asked.

"No, thank you. When will we get back to Crete? Or is Athens where we're headed?" she asked.

Portia looked at Killmonger, and he sipped on his coffee to keep from answering right away.

"Would you like to rest, Miss Keith?"

The nervous lieutenant sensed the tension that had risen in the galley.

"There's an empty bunk you can sleep in until we reach port," the man said.

His name badge said Makris.

"You should go lay down. I'll check on you later. Take Mimi with you," Killmonger said.

Portia caught on that something was off. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"If there's a door, lock yourself in there," he whispered in her ear.

She kissed his lips and picked up Mimi. Portia showed no fear as she followed Makris. She played it cool and calm, like an iceberg. Good girl, he thought.

Killmonger had fourteen rounds in his Glock. He counted seven false crew members and only two regular ones. The rest of the original crew were dead somewhere on the ship or tossed overboard. He assumed Quinton had escaped on some other watercraft to separate himself from the killers. They wouldn't rush to kill them all until nightfall, with darkness as a cover. Something must've happened to their ship in order for them to risk hijacking a Coast Guard operation.

"She has heart medicine she needs. I forgot to bring it up from the boat we used," Killmonger said. The lie rang true to the men.

"We can have someone go down and get it for you," the captain said.

Vlachos. The captain's name badge gave Killmonger a second to look away from a bulky merc who sized him up.

"It's in a side slot in the back," Killmonger said, following the man out onto the deck again.

The bulky man climbed down the side of the ship and rooted around.

"The back," Killmonger called down.

The man held up his hands.

"Hold on," Killmonger said.

A few more killers came out to watch him as he climbed down. One in the boat. Six up top. Perfect.

"That boat has a lot of tricky compartments," Killmonger said.

A wave buoyed the boat, and they both lost their balance for a second. Killmonger pretended to dig into a slot near the side of the ship and unlatched the boat, letting it float away. He dropped low, pulled out his Glock, and shot the bulky man dead. The man fell over the side with a soft splash. Shots from above popped over his head, but he turned on the motor and glided around the other side. Once he reached the gap he needed, he slammed his hands around the front M60 7.62mm machine gun and blasted at the men. He ripped through four right away. One caught him slipping and clipped Killmonger in his shoulder. It wasn't enough to stop him, but the distraction gave Vlachos and Makris the opportunity to jump the last two killers and wrestle them. Killmonger zipped back toward the ladder again. He hooked the boat and hustled back to the top. Vlachos took a shot in the chest but apprehended one assailant. Makris knocked the gun out of another merc's hand and bashed his head against the deck floor, knocking him out.

Blood pooled and cooled all over the deck with the other dead men.

Portia ran out of seclusion and grabbed him so hard that it knocked the wind out of him.

"Your arm," she said, touching his bleeding wound.

Killmonger shrugged it off.

"We gotta help him," Killmonger said, nodding over to Vlachos.

Vlachos waved them away.

"Bullet passed right through," Vlachos said.

Makris helped the captain back into the galley and tended to both injured men with a first aid kit. They revealed to him the sordid story of how they ran into the armed men on their way to find them, coming across their distressed vessel that had stopped working because an engine fire left them stranded. The hijackers shot their initial crew of eight down to only two when they tried to fight back.

Killmonger was exhausted by the time he tried to rest on a bunk bed. Blood loss tired him out and so did Portia, who fussed over him with tears streaming down her face, thinking she had heard him being killed. She crawled on top of him despite his pain, too frightened to leave his side. He fell asleep to her soft humming and stroking of his locs.

Portia, Makris, and Vlachos arrived in Crete the next morning.

Killmonger had disappeared.

The military boat they escaped with was gone. She relayed the deadly adventure to the press and her photos were blasted worldwide. First came the press tours, then the exclusive paid interviews. A book deal followed along with a movie deal and three-part docuseries. She milked every opportunity to tell her story as the only survivor and was paid handsomely for it.

Returning to New York, she hid out in a penthouse for months, searching all over the internet for any trace of Killmonger. If it had not been for Makris and Vlachos corroborating that the man did indeed exist, she may have convinced herself that he was a figment of her overactive imagination. Two of the killers that survived the Coast Guard ship confessed to being hired by Quinton. A global manhunt seemed never-ending. When billionaires were murdered in cold blood, people cared. She attended memorials to all the victims, making sure she looked fabulous in Thom Browne and Prada fashion with her signature Chanel shades. Portia wasn't close to any of the people she partied with on the yacht, aside from Quinton. However, leaked photos from her private social media account showed merry faces prior to them leaving Athens on the first day of the New Year's trip. It brought comfort to the families, and they invited her to spend weeks in various billionaire enclaves where she spun stories about their rich sons being brave and attempting to save the women. All lies. But it gave the loved ones a sense of closure and peace.

After a year, her life returned to jet-setting and fashion weeks all over again. Her misadventure bolstered her popularity because of the glamorous photos of her being escorted from the Greek Coast Guard ship in her knitted alabaster bikini. For someone experiencing a traumatic event, Portia looked fashionable as fuck.

Media ate up the haunting tale of Quinton living a double life somewhere. Media blasted his life history around the world as the biggest true crime story to come along in years. Many speculated that he had drowned or killed himself because he couldn't be found anywhere. Portia guessed he lived in a country where he couldn't be extradited. The hoopla died down until her book came out. Then there was a buzz about the casting for the movie. Depression set in then.

Portia visited a few therapists, but none could help her cure the anger that sat in her spirit like venom that she couldn't spew out. She wanted Quinton's head on a plate. He needed to pay for what he had done. It didn't matter to her that the people he killed weren't her genuine friends. He ended human lives because of greed. She couldn't get over that he took the bitch route to jumpstart his fortunes. As smart as he was, he couldn't develop or create something new and amazing that made him rich in the first place. An existential dread lived in her gut. Portia couldn't free herself from the lack of justice. Jetting around the world with Mimi in tow didn't heal the pain. New diamonds, furs, and fancy cars lost their luster. Revenge burned in her soul.

She turned toward the dark web to search for Killmonger. Using some of her movie money, she hired the best ex-CIA and former Black Ops agents to help her find her mercenary lover. One former field agent told her the best that could happen was Killmonger would catch wind of her search, but no one could actually contact him. That was good enough.

The Swiss Alps looked like he imagined.

Cold, white, and jagged.

The job called for a remote location and this was as remote as it got. Killmonger rolled the late-model SUV into a long, isolated driveway that hadn't been plowed for a while. He parked when he couldn't drive any further, and dragged a large black duffel bag out of the trunk, along with an arsenal of small weapons in a backpack. The thick powdery snow cushioned and muffled his steps. All the lights were on in the mountain luxury chalet he came to. His target was inside. The cloudless night sky made the snow glittery with the moonlight and security lights surrounding the property.

Cold air made puffy clouds of his breath. His lungs burned from the exertion and altitude. He tapped his wrist computer and all the security cameras shut down within the chalet. The woman inside had a wineglass in her hand and talked on a cell phone, clueless that he was outside approaching with stealth. The lights in the interior winked out, then came back on suddenly. She turned her head and stared out through the large glass windows. Her eyes glossed over the valley below that was filled with snow that would have more dumped by midnight. Flakes had already fallen down on his way up a winding road.

He waited.

The front door opened, and the beauty stepped out in a long white fur coat reminding him of Goldie from the old Black flick, "The Mack". She still rocked expensive diamonds, and Ma carried herself like the ice princess she would always be.

Portia.

He stepped into the light and she grinned, relief creasing her brow and her lush lips spreading into the biggest smile. His heart dropped for a moment. She almost looked like she did back on their island.

"Killmonger," she said.

Her voice made him move toward her. She helped him with the small backpack and he hauled the duffel up the steps and into a cozy, warm interior. A fire burned in the fireplace and Mimi jumped around his legs.

"Hey rat dog," he teased.

He dropped the duffel near the door and lifted the dog. Portia took off her coat, revealing the slinky silver dress with the low-cut front he admired before he came in.

"Bring yourself over here," he said, dropping Mimi to the floor.

She sauntered to him, walking like a runway model, exaggerating her hips as she moved and draped her arms around his neck. He inhaled her lovely scent and memories rushed back of him and her alone… making love. Killmonger kissed her first, and she opened her mouth to envelop all the warmth of his tongue.

Two years.

They hadn't been in contact with each other in two years since he disappeared from her life. He went back to work for Clark and dropped off the radar soon after. The fame of their adventure dazzled his eyes when he went to a movie theater in Morocco and watched a film that was almost true. The actress that played Portia was gorgeous, but she lacked aloofness and sublime sensuality. Their sex scenes were amplified and gratuitous. There were long scenes of them fucking in water that never happened, and also one of them screwing on the Coast Guard ship. Also, untrue. The actor that was supposed to be him wasn't even a close approximation of Killmonger, but women loved him at the box office and the film became a blockbuster. The docuseries blew up, too. Portia became a media star and super-rich by doing nothing except being beautiful and caught up in some greedy foolishness. Some girls had all the luck with pretty privilege. The anomaly was her being a beautiful Black woman with an intriguing action-adventure-romance story. It did not shock him when Hollywood tried to white-wash the film by recasting Portia as a white blonde. That idea dropped, but they did cast a Black biracial British actress to play her. Think pieces blew up around that.

He got word of her searching for him.

It was only a matter of time. He thought of her often as he worked throughout the Middle East and West Africa. His notifications blew up during fashion weeks and he scrolled timelines to see what she had on and found out how her life was going. She dated often, but nothing serious. Her mystique intensified and everyone wanted her at their major events and parties.

He sensed her unhappiness.

Quinton, getting away with murder, rubbed too many white, rich people the wrong way. A Black man double-crossing billionaires and profiting from it... alive somewhere? Unheard of. Portia survived with the sting of betrayal hovering around her.

Killmonger smacked her ass, and she gave him the glass of wine in her hand. He drank it down, and she took it away, resting it on a side table.

The duffle moved.

Mimi growled and barked at the large black canvas bag and Killmonger knelt down, unzipping it. Stuffed inside was Quinton, tied and gagged. Portia picked up the smaller backpack she carried into the chalet for Killmonger. She opened it and he moved his hand around in it.

"Your choice of weapon, Ma," Killmonger said.

Portia lifted a modified Maxim 9 with a built-in silencer.

"What a way to ring in the New Year," she said, kissing him.

She dropped to one knee and peered at her prey.

"Hello, Quinton. Long time no see, baby," she said.

The iciness of her voice chilled Killmonger. Quinton's desperate eyes pleaded for mercy. She would give him none.

Portia zipped the bag up and stuffed the Maxim 9 back into the pack. She grabbed Killmonger's hand and pulled him toward some stairs.

"I'll save him for midnight when the fireworks go off. Right now, I want you," she purred.

Killmonger followed his ice princess. They had some reacquainting to do in the privacy of a luxury bedroom with fresh snow falling outside.

"Happy New Year," he whispered before kissing her all over.

A.N.:

Brought an oldie but goodie back! I first published this on here back on October 11, 2022, a month before "Wakanda Forever" came out. I thought I would expand this into a longer piece and indie publish it with some other stuff I took down from here, but I decided to put it up again because we need fun things to read in these daunting times with Cheeto dust back in office. Enjoy and please reblog!

[braveclementine]

Chapter 25

Warnings: 18+readersonly, oral sex, smut, pet names, King kink

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

It had been about two weeks since you had gotten back from the Bahamas. That place had seemed like a dream and a second life. Now, everyone was back in the tower- or traveling between the tower and their countries they governed.

T'Challa and you were privately planning a quiet Wakandan ceremony to officially make you the Queen of Wakanda. Every time you talked about the conversation, you wanted to throw up. The idea of becoming a Queen of a country you didn't belong to was uncomfortable to you. You weren't even sure the people there would appreciate you.

Meanwhile, Thor was working his 'God of Fertility' magic, so that though you were having sex with everyone you were soulmated to, hopefully only T'Challa would take root so that he had an heir to the throne. Which, naturally, sped up T'Challa's want for the ceremony.

Shuri, Okoye, and Nakia were also helping plan this ceremony and you mostly took a backseat, really only inputting what you wanted if it came to a certain colour of the plates or flowers.

You weren't allowed to choose the style of your dress either, but you could at least choose the colour. You just told them to match you to T'Challa because you really didn't want to show up in a colour that would clash with his.

In the meantime, you were also trying out a lot of your traits like the archery and using the flexibility to train. Now that you had mechanical knowledge, Tony was even more excited when you came down to the lab because then you could help him with his projects. Not to mention your photographic memory from Stephen- although now you understood why he couldn't be around the Avengers for more than a few hours at the most.

Y/S/N and you hadn't really had a chance to talk yet between everything about your father's death.

Tony had arranged it so that it was a week after you guys had gotten home from the Bahamas. He had everything planned and neither of you had to lift a finger or push over a penny (although apparently now all of Tony's money was yours so-).

But between recovering a week, the funeral, and now planning for a Wakandan marriage ceremony, you had barely been able to even see her, much less talk to her.

Elizabeth had been sending you update texts. Pietro, who had never lived in the tower anyways, had moved down to Ohio along with Hogun. The two of them shared an apartment that was near Elizabeth's house so that they could continue to court her as she finished up her last year of High School. Pietro however, did come back every weekend so that he could spend time with Jessie and Katherine too.

Vision and Wanda were preparing to go down and see her as well, but both of them were unsure of whether they would stay like the other two or not.

Oh! And Heimdall was down there as well- though only for a few weeks- as he was courting Katerina from gymnastics as well. Apparently they met at the wedding and they found out they were soulmates. Neither of them had any other soulmates so that was kind've cute.

After another week, everything was set. You and T'Challa were the first to arrive in Wakanda. You had gaped, looking out the window, seeing everything that they had built. Everything just looked so intricate, advanced, and beautiful.

"I think you'd like to see where Bucky lived after the Avengers disassembled for a little bit." T'Challa's voice was soft next to your ear.

You nodded and then said, "This place is beautiful T."

T'Challa kissed the back of your ear. "Are you nervous my Nkosazana?"

"A little bit. I don't think your people will like me very much." You admitted. "I mean, from what I know, you have very ancient customs and I. . . I'm not." You gave a laugh. "I mean, you're marrying an outsider."

"We can't help where our soulmates live." T'Challa said simply. "And I wouldn't trade you for any of 'em."

You blushed, turning away from the window so that you could snuggle into T'Challa's side until the quinjet landed.

Shuri, Okoye, and T'Challa's mother, Queen Ramonda, was waiting for us along with another set of the dora milaje were waiting on either side.

You quickly hooked your arm around T'Challa's around the two of you walked down the Quinjet ramp to meet them. Shuri was waiting there in a T-shirt, a pair of long pants, a belt wrapped around the both at the same time. Her hair was tied up in space buns, a choker around her neck.

"Y/N!" She squealed, darting forward to throw her arms around you. You could feel yourself relaxing and smiling as you hugged her back.

Queen Ramonda smiled. She was absolutely stunning, wearing some formal white dress and headdress that you wished you knew the name to.

It was also the first time you had seen Okoye in her full red and silver uniform, her spear in hand. She looked on stoically as though you didn't know each other. But she also looked at T'Challa like that, so it was probably just a thing.

"Welcome to Wakanda Princess Y/N." Queen Ramonda said, setting forward to take your hand.

"Thank you Queen Ramonda." You said awkwardly, hoping beyond hope that you were actually allowed to call her that.

T'Challa smiled, hugging his mother. "Come, let us go inside."

He took you inside, Shuri, and his mother following- which didn't feel right. Then you remembered that she wouldn't even be the Queen anymore since you were married to T'Challa. After the ceremony you would be the Queen of Wakanda.

You nearly threw up right then and there.

T'Challa sensed your nerves, moving his arm from yours, to hook it around your waist, pulling you close to his side, kissing the top of your head, "It's going to be fine, even fun, you'll see my Nkosazana."

You nodded. His voice was alluring and you were sure that everything was going to be alright. There was just a small nagging feeling that you couldn't shake. Although you weren't sure what that nagging thing was.

T'Challa showed you around the entire palace, including Shuri's lab. He showed you the specially designed cryo tank that Bucky had been in until Shuri had managed to fix him, getting rid of his trigger words.

After that, T'Challa led you up to the main wing where Dora Milaje lined the hallways and also where the royal bedrooms were.

He opened up the door, letting the both of you into his room.

You looked around in interest. On your left where you entered, there were several tribal decorations as the wall curved. When the wall flattened out to be straight, there were two bookcases in the wall on either side of the two doors, one of which led to the closet and one that led to the bathroom, before the wall curved again and there were more tribal decorations there as well.

The bed was directly across from the room, white sheets and two pillows propped up against the headboard. It was square shaped and lower to the floor than you would have expected.

In the middle of the room, there was some sort of funnel there where four seats sat underneath it.

"It's the hologram table." T'Challa said, noticing you peering at it curiously. He gave a little laugh, "Because even in sleep a King is never not working."

You nodded, looking at the doors that led out onto a large balcony that overlooked the all of Wakanda. They weren't glass or had any curtains to pull out over them. Instead, they seemed to be woven of metal, small slots between them so that when they were pulled closed, decorative patterns would break out on the floor.

Yellow lights hung everywhere, circular in shape, hanging by metal wire of the same colour.

"I like it." You said, turning to T'Challa with a grin. "It's different and it's very you."

T'Challa checked the one and only clock in the room, "Hmm, we have time before dinner." He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, carrying you over the threshold. "You'll have to let Captain Rogers know about that one."

You giggled at T'Challa's playfulness as he brought you over to the bed, laying you down on it carefully before crawling over you. You kissed him excitedly. "Are we trying out the bed my King?"

He chuckled under his breath, making shivers go down your spine. "Indeed we are Nkosazana." He captured your lips in his again, as his hands slipped down to the hem of the dress you had decided to wear to meet his mother and sister in.

He pulled it upwards, letting you sit up a moment so that you could toss the dress over the side of the bed.

T'Challa pinned your hands lightly above your head with one hand, slowly and sensually kissing up your body. You could feel every spot that his lips lingered. You closed your eyes, lips parted slightly as you felt him press another low kiss right above your belly button.

You flickered your eyes open again as you felt his fingers undo the clasp of your bra, pulling it from your body to join the dress on the floor.

You let out a tiny mewl as his lips wrapped around your nipple. You rubbed your thighs together, wishing that you could get some sort of friction from him. But you also knew that T'Challa was not one to tease either.

"Patience Nkosazana," He murmured, teeth grazing over your now erect nipple, moving over to the other.

Your chest heaved as he finished with your breasts, before moving up to kiss you again. You smiled up at him as he pulled back. He grinned down at you before he pulled your knickers down your legs, tossing them behind him.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, releasing the hold on your hands as he buried himself in your weeping pussy.

"T!" You gasped, moaning at the feeling of his cool tongue against your hot core, licking you, tasting you. "Oh fuck!"

You could feel his smile, his cheeks growing a little as his smile widened. His hands were firm around your thighs to hold you still. Your hands were gripping the pillow by your head as your orgasm started to build up inside of you. "T I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead my Nkosazana." T'Challa murmured against your lower lips, vibrations pushing you over the cliff, the waterfall dripping down, T'Challa licking up every drop you gave him.

He slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders as you came down from the slight high. He stroked himself a few times before he moved his tip through your wet folds, collecting your slick, before pushing in.

You both moaned at the lovely feeling. Your arms came up, sliding your hands behind the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss as he started to move through you. His hands came down, fingers sliding smoothly down your shoulders as he caressed you tenderly.

Your breaths came out in quick pants as he sped up a little, both of your foreheads together sweetly as he made love to you. "T. . ." You whimpered as the next orgasm came upon you. He sighed in content, "Y/N."

After you both collapsed on the bed, he pulled out of you before heading off to the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth, taking care of you.

"Now then." He said, once you both dressed in fresh, new clothes. "I think we should go downstairs and grace the citizens with our presence, shall we?"

You giggled. You were much more relaxed now that you had spent some time here, "We shall, my King."

[joannasteez]

You ate this bestie. Like i need attumas mysterious ass expeditiously and so does Xahli!!!

Right as Rain (1/5)

Namor x AFAB Wakandan OC x Attuma 

Warnings : Highly explicit sex in chapters 2-5, angst then comfort, forced proximity, age gap (he’s like 500), cursing, alcohol use, mentions of death, suggestive tones/ language, Reverse harem, suggested polygamy, mentions of self harm (it is one sentence and will be italicized). 

Disclaimer: OC uses she/her pronouns. Gif from tenor. 

Wordcount: 12,566 ( This is the longest chap I promise)

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He floats to the opening of the broken glass as he watches her hands pump against the queen’s chest. He had every intention of killing the teen scientist from the states. At the last moment the queen rushed and shielded the girl, attempting to save the girl. The scientist woke up, the queen didn’t. He lingers longer than he should, watching the girl cover her mother’s mouth with her own.  She breathes life into her and the queen turns over to spit water from her lungs. Shuri’s screaming and wailing stops abruptly and the room stills. Romanda takes a deep inhale. This mysterious woman he hadn’t seen until now, stood to her full height. Their eyes lock and he stills entirely. She’s shivering and wet, wide eyes blinking back at him. He placed a foot to the floor and she froze like easy prey. He can smell the salt in her veins and she’s adorned in jewelry that only came from his world. Another step closer and she darted her eyes to the floor. For a moment he feels betrayed and he doesn’t know why. It’s almost as if he just uncovered something that was stolen from him. Where the fuck had she been hiding ? And why hadn’t he seen her until now. Why? Why? His lip curls in anger before he pushes down his rage. He doesn’t know her. He can’t.

“ K'i'ik'el in k'i'ik'el   (Blood of my blood) ”. He speaks in his elongated words that almost resemble a song. Like a lion approaching a gazelle, he slowly walked to her and closed the gap between them.  His feet made no sound when he moved. She found his movements  alien-like, disturbing and yet intriguing. There is a beauty to him that does not belong. A gracefulness that Xahli found purposely disarming. Like he was born to allure, to trap. She of course has no idea what he said. Yet somehow as his breath tickled her brow, she felt a sense of familiarity with him that she could not describe. Her body is familiar with him somehow. If she closed her eyes she could feel herself being sucked into him like a current. When their eyes meet she feels exposed. He tilts his head at her, and she realizes he’s waiting for her to speak.

“I- I…don’t speak. I —”

“ What is your name?” He cuts her off. His accent is thick and velvety. She pauses in confusion, not fully processing what he asked. He slowly lifts his hand and touches her earring. She flinched instinctively. Shuri rushes to stand in front of Xahli in a protective stance.

“ Hey, what the fuck does it matter to you? You tried to kill my mother and then you just walk in here as if you haven’t just waged war on wakanda? Stop looking at her! You think you can walk in here and take whatever you want from me ?!!.” Shuri’s anger begins to rile her sister up. The fear of her mothers incident causes Xahli to fade into an almost visceral anger. She was boiling on the inside but it remained inside. Shuri was always the more expressive sibling when it came to anger. T’challa always remained level headed. Shuri could be the hot head at times. Unknowingly to her, Shuri had a way of acting out the emotions surrounding her. Xahli’s anger in this case.

“I told you my conditions. Your mother intervened and that is her business.” Shuri lunges for him and it takes Xahli and Nakia to pull her away. He’s unbothered by Shuri’s screaming and cursing and In stead continues to stare at Xahli. He is unmoved and seems to be almost puzzled at the reactions of the women in the room. It’s as if said reactions were not warranted because he warned Shuri of this. Xahli takes in the chaos around her. If this continued everything would be lost…for nothing.

“We will do what you want. Don’t destroy our home—please ! It is all we have “, she shouts as she restrains Shuri, having to nearly sit on her to control her. Her voice hit his ears and it was as sweet as nectar.

“I gave Shuri that chance and she slighted me behind my back. She shed the first blood.”

“I understand you feel betrayed but Shuri was afraid. She hasn’t done anything she felt she didn’t absolutely have to. You have forced our hand over and over again. You’ve flooded our home and evened the score ten times over I can assure you that! ”, she yelled.

“ I have been more than generous and patient. I will give Wakanda one  last chance to prove it’s ally-ship. Now, can you guarantee your ally- ship right here and now?” He called her bluff. She stood up tall and got in his face, scowling at him.  She’s not afraid anymore which is a good thing, though he nearly chuckles to himself.

“ I’m starting to think that you don’t want our ally-ship. You just want to be able to hold power over something. Wipe that stupid FUCKING smirk off your face. Propose something else if you must but you can’t have the girl. Get that through your dense skull Intloko ye-rock(rockhead).”

His brows fly up in surprise. Even a curse from her lips sounds like a prayer. He eyes her mouth, then the tip of her nose all the way up to the tips of her lashes. She’s stunning, there was no denying that. He didn’t take her threatening tone lightly. Now that they’re close, she can see his eyes are a deep amber with flecks of gold near the iris. His eyes darken and for a moment she regrets her insults. Romanda coughs very weakly and she whipped her head in mother’s direction. “Do not let him have her ”, Romanda rasps weakly. Without warning Xahli is lifted from the ground by a male guard twice her size. Eventually she has two guards hauling her into her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Her head swirls with confusion. Namor on the other hand grows angrier.

————————————————————————————-

He gave them several days to mourn their dead. Several days to come up with a new plan or this meant war. Namora is in his ear insisting they strike before then in order to discombobulate them. Yet, all he can think about is. Xahli. In his privacy he tries his name on his tongue. “Xahhhlii”, he whispers to himself.

He’d been checking the shore frequently, feeling the need to keep an eye on her window. He never tried to spy on her or even get a closer look, he just felt the urge to speak with her. On the 5th night she just so happened to be there. Xahli was standing there dressed in white flowy dress, thin enough to sleep in. She looked like an offering in the highest regard. He’d seen this face before but in a different version, a different font. He is familiar with her eyes the most. Her hair was big and curly all over her head, in spiraling and coils. It gave her a taller appearance when in actuality, her forehead came to his neck.  She wore no jewelry except a jade and gold ankle bracelet, yet another design from his nation. She was alarmingly beautiful, the type of beauty that made people raise their eyebrows. The type of beauty that people don’t compliment. She had no clue, it was apparent. Medium, full and manicured brows, plump lips with an exaggerated cupid’s bow that dipped in a line straight up to her nose. Her nose and wide eyes gave her a doe-like or just surprised appearance. Not to be mistaken as child-like but rather full of life, fresh. Alert.

She smiled when he approached her, drawing attention to her deep set dimples and eyes that could not betray her. Her smile didn’t reach them. She sat in the sand, not bothering to make any introductions. Their talk ignites something in him. Xahli bursts into tears deep from her gut as she expresses her fears of losing her country. She cried so hard she could barely get the words out. She talked about losing her father and brother. Her honesty bewitched him. She cried and pleaded and her vulnerability became her super power. He was so moved that he nearly joined her in her tears. Xahli flinches slightly when he takes a finger and wipes a single tear away. She thought he’d be cold but he was surprisingly warm. Their eyes meet and then she looks away. He never deters his eyes from her . In fact, he’s never been ashamed of his staring. She gathers herself and shakily explains that she felt that talking to him would be her best option. Perhaps if she laid all her cards out on the table that he would understand her. It was a stupid move, one that could get her killed if she was anybody else. But she’s not anybody else.

“What can I do to convince you to stop this ?”

“ Prove to me your country’s alliance. If you can do that…we can figure out a different option for the girl’s fate”, he says. She sighs in defeat resting her head in her hands. A few moments later an idea pops into her head.

“ Well, usually…when two countries unite it is through marriage. But that can’t be—”

“ I see you are finally catching on Koj león( Dandelion) ”

“ You want…my hand ? How? I can’t breathe under water.”

“It would make the proper statement. And if you have the blood of Talokanil running through your veins as I suspect, you will be able to acclimate in time. We also have arrangements for your condition.”

“My condition ? I’m a human..not on my deathbed.”

“Either way we are prepared to receive you.”

“What’s with the suspicions about my lineage?”

“ We wear the same adornments and I know when a fellow Talokan is near. You have a way about you—you are different in ways I cannot express.”

“ My mother was a war dog and my father was a merchant. The Queen—my mother told me who they were already. What is the use in lying about that?”

“ Exactly, what is the use? If she had nothing to hide why would she confine you to your room for days. That sounds guilty, no ?” Xahli doesn’t bother arguing with him, especially when he has a point. She would be his bride as long as she was able to visit her own world. He gave her three days to break the news to her mother and gave her a shell to contact him should anything arise.

Two whole days passed and Xahli hadn’t talked to her mother nor the rest of her family about the arrangement. She was absolutely petrified. She knew that this would lead to nothing but a screaming match with her sister. She didn’t want to disappoint her mother. Of all her siblings, she was the most agreeable. She never got into trouble and with her being the middle child, she often kept the peace. Along with the stress of this news, Xahli couldn’t stop thinking about him. His deep terracotta skin, his golden eyes, oil slick hair and his impeccable shoulders. He had a swimmers build but he was broad. His jade septum gave him a fierce look along with the beautiful neck piece he wore made from Jade, Pearls, Vibranium and Gold. His feet were even more of an anomaly because of his winged ankles. His nose had a slight hump in it and he had thick facial hair, including a mustache. There was no denying he was handsome with great skin. She was certain the salt did wonders for it’s texture. Xahli wondered if his beauty was a tool he used against people much like a mermaid–merman? Whatever. His looks aren’t important.

She went back in her mind decoding and rewinding every conversation they had. He swore to protect her and her country. That nobody would lay a single hand on her. That she would be adored and treated like family. He promised that he wouldn’t even force an heir on her until she decided she was ready. No advances, no pressure and only companionship. A tiny voice in her head screams, “he’s lying!” and she can’t shake it. The only thing he’s shown her so far is chaos. Anyone could see this situation would end poorly. But then what was that pull in her stomach and in her heart ? The energy surge between them, what did it all mean?

__________________________________________________________________

Namor sits on his throne, shell in hand. He refuses to call her first. He’s certain she was very busy. Part of him feared she’d back out. That was until he heard a very distant conversation ring from the shell. It was picking up the conversation. She was finally breaking the news to her mother. The conversation starts off cagey from the bat, her mother growing annoyed with her daughters questions and suspicion.

“The other day when Namor was here. You said not to let him have me. What did you mean by that?”

“I saw the glint in his eyes when he saw you. He has cruel intentions.”

“There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“What else could there possibly be Xahli”, her mother sighs in irritation.

“Mother…what are you hiding?”

“What the hell are you talking about”, says Romanda with a louder tone.

“ How come you never talk about my father?”

“ Not much was known about him.” Romanda begins to tap her foot in impatience.

“No pictures ? My mother gave no hint as to who he was?” Xahli raised her brow in suspicion.

“ Why this NOW? Why this talk about your father now? Your baba raised you as his own. HE is your father.” Romana walked over to her daughter, grabbing her hands in a pleading manner.

As Namor eve’s drops on the conversation, he can hear Xahli continue to interrogate her mother. Xahli insists that the jade she wore matched the Talokan jade. She finds it suspicious that there are pictures of her birth mother but not her birth father.  Eventually Romanda confesses, insisting that she didn’t connect the dots until the Talokanil invaded wakanda. Romanda explains that her mother left the details of her father to her in a letter.

“You didn’t think to show me something my mother intended on ME to have ?!”

“ How could I explain to you that your father is some sea creature with blue skin? How does that sound to a child ? How does a child rest with that ? I didn’t want you to think that there was something wrong with you.”

“You’d be surprised at just how understanding children can be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m upset that you weren’t open with me sooner. That wasn’t your burden to carry it was MINE. MY burden!”

“You are right.” The line goes quiet with sniffling and tears from both parties. Namor knows that he should put his shell down and step away. This was private.

“Well now that the truth is out I was able to speak with Namor.”

“How did you get out of this room”, says Romanda.

“ And we were able to come to an agreement. What he wants is true ally-ship. We decided—well I suggested that allyship is usually created when two countries join together to symbolize unity.” Romanda shakes her head silently as if she can’t believe the words spilling from your lips.

“ I suggested that we unite through marriage so that we c—”

“NO”, Romanda said sternly. Namor’s ears perk up and his arms tense on the side of the throne. He sends his servants away for privacy. He did not want them to see him react or even question what he was doing.

“ This is the best nonviolent option. Be lucky it’s not my head he wants. He can be reasoned with and I take this as a victory. “

“ You don’t know WHAT he will do with you. A strange man taking you to another world! You intend to live the rest of your life in a what—a suit?!? Miles and miles away with no way to contact me?? There are worse things than murder that can happen to a woman and you know that !“

“ He reassured me that he will not harm me in any way.”

“ He is a monster. What kind of man takes one look at a woman and wants her hand ? In this day and age??? He is SICK! “, Romanda angrily. Namor’s fingers tighten around the shell until his knuckles turn white. He nearly cracked it. He felt slighted by her words.

“ This is strictly business. Besides– I had my own conditions. We talked about it.” Xahli could barely get the words out because her mother was going on a tangent.

“This shouldn’t be up for discussion. You are my daughter, not a goddamn bargaining tool! I will not have it ! “

I love this country. I love our home—our people. I love this country enough to let it go. I love you enough to do this for you, Okoye, Shur and Nakia. For M’baku who I can’t stand half the time. For every sacrifice T’challa and Baba made. For uncle N'jobu and Cousin Erik who aren’t here to protect us like I KNOW they would if things had gone different. For Uncle Zuri…. For every single Jabari warrior who stood beside us. Let me do something for my country.” Xahli pleads with her mother. She has never felt more called to do something than now.

“ I can’t ….lose you too”, Romanda looks at her daughter with a hopeless expression.

“ Mom…I love you but I am doing this. I will be back in a few weeks and then you will see that this is what’s best. Now please….step away so I can pack. I leave tomorrow night. If you lock me In here I will find a way out.” Xahli turns cold suddenly and focuses her attention out the window. The shell hums with a slam from what  Namor assumes is the door. Romanda has stormed out. She’s rattled with sobs again and he sets the shell aside. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea? Maybe Namor would be breaking up an already seemingly wounded family? He didn’t have to do this. He could change his mind, take over Wakanda and forget about her. The thing is, the moment they laid eyes on each other—the goal post moved. It shamed him to realize that his own selfish desires blinded him. But this was so far beyond a simple longing. This was a years or rather a lifetime in the making. He was certain she didn’t remember their past. She would never know the endless years of suffering he’d endured in her absence. She would never know that at one point he was searching through books on how to destroy a god—himself.

Later that same night Namor and Namora get into their most heated argument to date. Namora was just as eager as Namor to secure their position and get the justice she felt their nation deserved. Truthfully, Namor thought that in his absence she would make the perfect leader but this was his job. “I understand that you miss your wife. This is not her. This is another woman who has no connection to the Talokanil”, said Namora.

“ Her father was of Talkon ancestry. It is her. I’ve never been so sure of it. Be happy I was able to come to an agreement with everyone. Not everything needs blood shed Namora”

“ I have trained with you all my life to become the warrior I am, to fight beside you. You told me the surface would burn for their sins against Talokan! You said that we would rise and would no longer have to hide from the demons above. YOU- said that Wakanda would either stand with us or get conquered with the rest of them. That’s what you told me. You are risking our safety for a surface dweller!”

“ She is not just some surface dweller and you know that. It is more than that. You’ve seen her paintings and monuments all over this place. Show some respect.”

“ Respect ? You are letting what’s in between your legs to cloud your judgment. You are being WEAK!”

Namor bangs on the table and stands up. His cousin barely flinches but instead shakes her head at him in disgust. Namor’s chest is heaving in fury. Namora doesn’t back down, she isn’t afraid of him.

“ Get out of my sight. Now “, Namor said lowly. Namora stands and stares at him for a moment before turning and swimming away.

——————————————————

Shuri felt slighted by Xahli. She went behind her back and made a deal that she never thought her sister would make. Her brilliant big sister, signing her life away to an underwater god. She felt like she was losing another sibling all over again. Xahli fully expected Shuri to start yelling, but instead she grew silent. Okoye and Nakia were of course disappointed but didn’t share their opinions. It wasn’t until the entire family made it onto the beach that they swarmed Xahli with affection. She sighs in relief, thankful that they weren’t departing on bad terms.

“ You make me furious. You have the head of a bull, like your father”, said Romanda.

“ know. I’m sorry”, Xahli said with a frown.

“ We love you”, said Nakia.

“ And don’t hesitate to call on us. We’ll be there. I don’t care if the Dora Milaje have have to become Olympic free divers”, Okoye added.

“ I have no doubt in my mind”, Xahli laughed.

“ Please be careful sister. Call me every night. Promise you will”, Shuri pleaded.

“ I swear it. I love every single one of you SO much. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Everything will be fine. If you want to reach me there is a shell in the throne room. Speak into it and I’ll hear you”, Xahli reassured them.

They all link arms, waiting. Though afraid, she felt true support from her family.  Suddenly Xahlii sees feathers peak from the water in the distance. A small woman gradually steps from the water. Xahli had seen her before from a distance. She was the woman Namor always traveled with. She is a vibrant blue color which made her adornments pop. She begins speaking in that same foreign language but Xahli notices that she has a translator attached to her hip. “I am Namora. I’m here to escort you to Talokanil. Please come with me.” She holds her hand out to Xahli to take it.. The robotic voice sounds completely different from her own. Her voice is strong and melodic, yet harsh. It takes Xahli a few moments to process what was asked of her. “Oh—yes of course but is Namor coming?”, Xahli asked.

“Yes. He is here. Though he is unsure if your mother will want him around.”

“I would like to speak with him”, says Romanda. And like clockwork Namor rises from the water and soundlessly floats over to the girl’s mother. Namora pulls Xahli towards the water and she quickly waved back to her family.  Romanda pulls Namor aside. He takes a final look at Xahli before turning his attention back to her mother.

“I don’t know why she feels so Inclined to do this. I can’t stop her…she’s 27 years old. But just know that she’s…fragile. She doesn’t ruffle feathers or cause problems. Be kind to her. She already feels so alone in the world even though she won’t say it. She’s a very nice girl. Assure me, tell me something that will make this easier”,  Romanda’s eyes fill with tears but she wipes them away, raising her head to his. “She is safe. We recognize her sacrifice. I have no intention of hurting her in any way “, Namor insists. His  eyes soften at her mothers words. If there was one thing all of them could agree on, it was that friends and family were invaluable. Though he had no blood children, he assumed that losing Namora would break him in immeasurable ways.

“ Give this to her at some point for me. It was rightfully hers anyway”, Romanda hands him a waterproof bag with a letter and jewelry inside of it. He held it up to his face, seeing a jade septum and necklace. They share a knowing look and he nods.

Namora takes her hand and guides her deeper into the water. The water reaches shoulder length and she begins to panic and resist Namora’s gentle pulling. She stops and takes the mask from her face, placing it over Xahli’s mouth. “Breath deeply. It will calm you”, Namora coaxed.  Xahli does just that and she is consumed by darkness.

______________________________________________________________

Xahli wakes up to a tapping sound. The sound resembled droplets of water hitting a cave floor. To her surprise, when she opened her eyes she realized she’d guessed right. She sat up to a blue woman making her way over to her. “Stay calm please. I am here with fresh water. He says you are dehydrated”, the translator’s static robotic voice bounces off the walls. She grabbed the glass and chugged it. The air inside of the mask left her throat dry. The servant left her to explore. Up above the cave ceiling grew in rock formations and spikes. She pushed from her hammock to get a closer look.

The ceiling was glowing blue, likely from glow worms.Two men stand on their side of the cave as guards. They eye her warily but remain quiet and statuesque. Random cracks of water flow in between the rocky cracks of the floor in a thin stream, into a deep pool of water towards the back of the cave with a waterfall. Everything is glowing in blue. Shadows of the water danced along the cave walls creating a sway to the entire space. Bowls of fruit, gold, jade and other trinkets and valuables sit on carved surfaces. It created a decorative touch to an ancient yet breathing-taking environment. To her right sat a large tent with a warm glow emitting from the inside of it. She peaks through the crack, hearing the rumbling of his movement on the inside. Namor turned around quickly and caught her staring. She startled, gasping quietly.

“Come in xahli “

Xahli never quite got used to the way he always said her name perfectly. She meekly peeled the luxury sized tent open and stepped inside. Xahli explored his space. It’s large enough for about 6 people and it was covered in artwork from the top to the bottom. There’s so many rich colors. She began to notice just how ancient some of his art work looks. The jewelry he had laying around dated back to the 16th century. He’d already admitted his immortality but seeing the artifacts made everything more real.

“ This place…it’s so beautiful. I didn’t know that you were an Artist”

“ Yes. I enjoy storytelling through my art. When you live a long time you pick up new hobbies. Please, have a seat”, He gestures for the seat in front of him. She sat down at the table in the middle of the room and continued to take in the beauty of his sanctuary. His room was filled with things he held dear to him. There were many sculptures as well. This was the private place, a place to call his second home. There was a small opening at the very top which just so happened to let in some of the cave light. Patterns of ocean water danced along his home just like the outside of it. His space was comforting. He wore a cape with golden shoulder plates and jewelry up and down his arms and full biceps. His jade stood out to the most. She absentmindedly touched her earrings at the thought of it coming from this very place.

“ How old are you?”

“Roughly 500 years old.”

She’s instantly winded. Safe to say her husband would outlive her

“ And how long do your people live ?”

“130-200 years give or take. We are deep sea creatures. Our environment determines how long we live. In rare instances we have had people fall sick or have defects. Besides that most times Talokan’s are healthy.”

“ Have you had other wives ?”

“ One Long age. She’s long gone. Over 100 years ago.”

“Children ?”

“No.”

“Why ?”

“She couldn’t.”

“ I’m  so sorry! I don’t know why I’m prying. I just–I’m sorry.” The room goes silent. She’s uncomfortable when she sees the pain that flashed across his face when his wife was mentioned.

“ You’re fine.”

She notices a bowl of fruit in the middle of the table. Namor offers her some.

“ Please help yourself. It’s almost dinner time. If you don’t like the fruit I can bring you something else?”

“ No this is fine. I actually love pomegranates, it’s just so hard to get the seeds out.”

“ Let me.” He breaks the pomegranate in half with his bare hands and somehow—miraculously removes the seeds in under 3 minutes by beating the back of it with him thumb.

“Wow. Where have you been all my life?,” She chuckled. She tastes the seeds. They’re sweet and tangy. This was quite possibly the best pomegranate she’d ever tasted.

“What else do you guys eat down here ?”  

“ We eat raw fish. Sometimes we salt treat it as well. But our diet mostly consists of fruit, vegetables and grain.”

“Ah. Very healthy.”

“It’s what we know.”

“I want to hear your story .”

My story ? Not sure I lived long enough to have a story “, she chuckled.

“ Uh well, I mean up until my brother became black panther my life was pretty normal. I went to school, played volleyball, played violin, graduated and went to college. My brother and sister were always super brainy. I was smart too but I didn’t have a focus on technology. My focus was on medicine. I’m a doctor”

“ Ahh, you’re a healer?”

“ I’m in Cardiology, I’m a heart surgeon.”

Namor’s movements still and Xahli stills as well, fears she may have done something wrong. She can see his jaw clench and twitch as fear fills his eyes . He looks at her slowly–cautiously as if someone told him something was behind him.

“I’m sorry did I do something to upset you?”

“ N-no. No, not at all. Your response just reminded me of something”, he dismissed.

“What ?”

“ It happened a long time ago. I think….your talents could be useful for us. We’re pretty well off when it comes to medicine and technology but we don’t have many surgeons. It takes years of training and most people do not get cut unless they are with child.”

“You do surgeries on each other..HERE!?”

“ Yes. Not in the water of course but we’ve put the cave to use and we’ve used other secluded areas. Babies are cut out of women with no pain. Our way of living can be quite simple to outsiders but we’ve been successful with open surgeries for quite some time. We treat the sick, the infected. We’re not primitive.”

“ Of course, I would never think that. I just assumed you guys never needed any surgery. You mentioned the occasional sickly person, but I would never guess surgery sick. I’ll admit that I thought you did the surgery underwater as well.”

“ If we did surgery underwater we’d become very popular with the sharks”, he chuckled. Xahli look down to see a bracelet near on his left side.

“ Wow this is stunning. It looks like it dates back to the 16th century.”

“It was my mothers. It is yours ” He gently grabs her wrist and wraps the bracelets around it.

“No I couldn’t.” She looked at him cautiously, about to take the bracelet off.

“I insist, please. It compliments your skin so well.”

“ Are you sure? I mean this is how you remember her.”

“She wouldn’t mind, I assure you.”

“ Tell me your story now..it’s only fair”, she smiled softly.

Namor had a very old way about him. He took his time in everything he did. Though he was young looking, she knew how wise he was. It was very strange to be someone like him. There were moments where he had such a young fresh demeanor and other times he seemed weighed down by his life. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he seemingly tried to recall the story.  

“ My mother and her village were suffering from pox that Spanish conquistadors  brought over from Europe. Facing war and disease my people turned to Jak, the god of rain and abundance. Jak gave our shaman a vision or rather a way to save his people. Jak led him to a plant sprouting from a blue rock in the sea. The shaman crushed it up into a medicine and everyone drank it in hopes that it would save them. My mother was pregnant with me at the time and she did not want to ingest the plant in fear of what it would do to me. The shaman told my mother that I was sick anyway, inside her womb. This would be her one true chance to save me so she drank it. They all fell sick and woke up unable to breathe air. Their skin turned blue and they realized they could only survive in the ocean. They settled in the ocean away from war, disease and destruction. My mother gave birth to me here and I became the first born son of Talokan. The plant gave me wings on my ankles and pointed ears. I was a mutant. I could swim In the sky and age slower. I could breathe the air or water. Eventually my mother got older, dying sooner than most Talokan now. She passed at 90 years old. Most of the people who ingested the first batch of the medicine passed away sooner, likely because they were already adults before they took it. In her old age she made me promise to bury her in her home land. Nothing could prepare me for what I found there.”He pauses with a pained expression on his face.

“ My people in chains, being forced to do labor against their will. To be treated like livestock—like animals. I tore it all to the ground. A Spanish man cursed me L’enfant sans amour. A child without love and I took my name from him. Namor—because I have no love for the surface world.”

“ Now I understand your haste. I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Nobody deserves that at all. That’s absolutely horrific”,  She shakes her head in disgust.

“ We consider ourselves lucky. We were privileged enough to be the select few to get away from enslavement. I know that our families have seen the worst of each other. I admit that things could have gone differently but I was afraid that​​ Talokan was running out of time. There have been few moments in my life that I felt true palpable fear for my people. I would do anything for them without hesitancy”, he says with a shaky tone. In that moment she saw true vulnerability. She closed the distance they shared and grabbed his hand in hers. His palm encased hers almost comically. He had these large warm hands that were surprisingly roughly on the palm and soft on the outside. His gaze softens as his eyes search hers.

“ How ironic that all of us have been scared the moment we crossed paths. That’s what it boils down to in the end–fear. It serves us no good. What I find so ironic is if you came to me asking for help… looking all helpless and handsome, all of this could have been avoided”, she teased. His sad expression turns into a smirk and before he knows it he’s chuckling. A grin spreads on Xahli’s face.

“ Handsome you say ? “, He smirks.

“ Don’t tell my mother”, she rolled her eyes playfully

“ I suppose you should see the very thing I’ve been protecting. Are you up for it ? If you are too tired we c-”

“ Of course! I’ve been very anxious but I’m ready.”

“ I’ll call for your suit and we’ll go.”

She wandered off to her things and noticed  bags with her belongings. Toiletries, clothes, photos and books. A separate bag held a letter she assumed was from her birth mother and pieces of jewelry her father left her. She opens the bag inspecting the pieces of the necklace wrapped in vibranium. Suddenly Xahli is  grabbed from her kneeling position and forced to stand up. A man with long hair and an elaborate shark head piece stared her down. He feels miles high, he is at least 6 ft 5 and absolutely ripped. He has a water mask covering his mouth and lips but his eyes bore into her with a sadness she’d never seen before. She figures she should be scared but she was more concerned than anything. He’s speaking to her in a language she can’t comprehend. She tries to create some space between the two of them but she gasps when she feels her back hit the cave wall. His large arm cages her in place as his other hand rests on the side of her face.

“Teeche’ teech.” (It is you)

“ In yakunaj.” (My love)

“Teech teech wa jach in na máaxo'ob. Ka in wilech ken ma’ a waye’.” ( It is you or is it my personal hell. To see you when you are not here).

He speaks in a wounded town. His voice is baritone and gravely, perfectly matching his stature. He leans down closely to her face and sternly grabs her shoulders, only slightly shaking her.

“Núukej!” (Answer me)

She gasps in fear now holding her hands up in surrender.

“Recular!” ( Back down)

“Recular! Ma’ leti'e’!” ( Back down.Back down it is not her)

“Guerrero wook”,  (Stand down warrior ) Namor says in a threatening manner. Attuma pushes off the wall, walking backwards until there was six feet between himself and Xahli. His chest is heaving, heart racing. Xahli is still in the corner, panting just as hard as him.  Namor walks over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

“ I am sorry. He thought you were someone else. Apologize to your future queen. Ku k'áatik k'eeban. Arrodillar u (Beg for forgiveness and kneel ).” Attuma drops on one knee placing his staff on the ground.

“ It’s okay. He didn’t know it’s fine.”

“ Are you sure? I will not have you scared in Talokan. I have no toleran—”

“It’s fine …Namor. He didn’t know.”

“Je'el bix t'aane’ (at ease ).” He rises to his full height again. His once sad eyes are now filled with confusion and curiosity as he observes her from head to toe. Xahli observes him as well, wondering  how it was possible for his bottom half to be as thick as his top half. Then she thinks back to M’baku, it’s possible. Strangely enough, the same magnetism she felt with Namor she could feel with this mountain man.

“ What is your name ?”  

“ His name is Attuma.. I sent for a servant, not my first in command. He wasn’t supposed to see you “, Namor sighed.

“ Le yaan in wáantik. Yaan a bin. (I will help her. You leave)”. Attuma makes a gesture with his hand, taps his staff three times on the ground and leaves through the opening of the cave, disappearing into the water.

“ You don’t have to be so mean to him. Maybe he was just..confused.”

“ I understand but he knows to keep his hands to himself. That is not the way to approach a Talokanil woman let alone one of noble position. Besides, it’s better that he is alone to level his head. You will have a second chance at introductions later. Come Xahli”, He holds the suit open and she steps in. Once she’s fastened he pulls her in the water with him, making sure she never strays too far.  

________________________________________________________________

They sink into the water and there is a steep drop into darkness. Her suit lights up the back of Namor as they float towards a distant light. The closer they get, the stronger the current pulls them in. Suddenly, they enter a tunnel with a current so strong that it spits them into what she feels is a portal, that finally pushes them out into an open ocean. For a moment she thinks Talkoan is a dark place. She noticed that he stopped swimming and she begins to panick. What if this was just a set up to murder her, to feed her to a shark or something. He notices her eyes widen and points upwards to reassure her. A huge whale passes over the two of the. She rushes into the side of him and he chuckles.  Her eyes track the whale traveling in the direction behind her. She turns around to see that the light had gotten closer.  Namor pulls her in the direction of the whale as they pass through another portal with a strong current until they are spat out in front of the distant city. There before her sat Talokanil. An ancient metropolitan city in the middle of the fucking ocean.

There is a country in the fucking ocean.

“ This is just the capital”, say Namor.

“There’s more ?”

“ For miles and miles. Keep up”

They pass by children playing a game of what seemed to be basketball, as they aimed a ball through a hole built into the side of an industrial beam. As they traveled deeper into Talokan they passed people working in crops. They pause and acknowledge him making a gesture with their hands. They had a salute much like Wakandans did. She expected them to have fins and tails with how agile they were in the water. So many people greeted each other with their salute, trading materials and fruits. Children swam in circles playing with each other. It was as if they were a school of humans instead of fish. Speaking of fish, there were many of them around,  such a whales that were used for transportation. Smaller fish was the equivalent to birds she believed, scurrying away and ducking between bodies in distinction for their next meal.

He guides her further up to where his throne sat. Just behind it, a bright light emerges from the cracks. Talokan lights up like a sunset. They had their own personal sun.

“Wow—this is breathtaking. It’s vibranium isn’t it ?”

“ Yes. It adapts to the ocean. I brought the sun to my people.”

“ All these years I thought vibranium was only native to Wakanda. I was clearly wrong.”

“ Come. Let me introduce you to some of my people.”

Elders, shamans, midwives, doctors , cooks and farmers all welcomed her. She was embraced warmly and many people asked questions about her home life with the help of their translators. They treated her like a queen already, saluting her with the Talokan gesture. They introduced themselves and talked about their jobs in Talokanil. Farmers, field workers, whale breeders, merchants and more. Simple people with a simple beautiful life.

Namor was needed elsewhere so he trusted Namora to look after her for a bit. Though Namora and himself had disagreed, he knew her loyalty was undying. Namora motioned for Xahli to follow her and they both went to a more secluded area to sit.

“ We haven’t had a chance to formally meet. I’m Xahli. Thanks for your help at the shore. I know I haven’t been the easiest to deal with when we met. I am grateful for your patience”

“ Oh I know who you are. The King made an announcement. He made sure every accommodation was met. If you are to be queen, consider it a service to the crown. We are happy to have you here in Talokanil.” They both silently watch people swim by trading fruits and woven material.

“ I noticed your name is awfully close to Namor’s. Well…his fighting name at least. Are you two related ?”

“ Yes, we are related through his mother. I’m a distant relative to him.”

“ It all makes sense now. How loyal you are to him and such.”

“ I am a bit biased, he raised me after all.”

“ Raised you?”

“ Yes. When I was born he was long grown. My parents were warriors and I lost them young. He raised me from age 5. He’s taught me everything I’ve ever known. I was named Namora as a tribute to the king. I believe my parents hoped I would be a warrior like them so they gave me his fighting name.”

“ Wow, I didn’t realize. I suppose it makes sense with how long he’s lived. Does he have any other children he’s taken in?”

“ Over the years, yes. Any child who loses a parent, he takes them in. Thankfully it’s not often a child becomes orphaned here in Talokan. I was one of the unlucky few but he had a very soft spot for children. They all adore him here.”

“ How sweet. I notice you often travel with another warrior. Is he related to Namor?”

“ Attuma, He is not our relative. Attuma and Namor have been long time friends. I met him when I was a child also. He’s like family to me.”

Xahli had a hard time hiding her interest in him. Her encounter with him intrigued her.  She noticed him sitting on the ledge f a heightened beam, sharpening his knife and people watching. She wondered how often he was alone, or chose to be. He catches her staring and stares back. She looks away timid, turning her attention back to Namora, she female warrior notices.

“ This place is stunning. I have so many questions and don’t even know where to begin. I can see the love you all have for each other. I see why you work so hard to hide it. Outsiders would not even know how to operate in this level of community. The fact that you don’t have any monetary symbols—you surpass most nations in morality.”

“ We see ourselves as one big family. You don’t take from your family. We trade what we have and even then, there’s too much surplus in supplies to owe a debt. We take what is needed. We work hard to keep it that way. A self sustaining nation is hard to come by, or so I hear. We are fortunate in many ways.”

Namora and Xahli continue their casual conversation as they watch Namor interact with his people. They share customs and ideas and Xahli explains things about her world, comparing and contrasting. Namora’s hard exterior dropped and she was quite fond of the girl. Xahli on the other hand was still too worried about how she’d be perceived. She didn’t want to mess this up or step on toes. Namora could sense that. She respected it even, but was concerned that this life may be too different from her old one. She didn’t expect the girl to live the rest of her life in a cave. This was not practical.

The night ended and Namor took her back to his little sanctuary, serving her up a meal in his cave home. She had a mixture of maize, rice and cooked fish that he had prepared specifically for her. Dinner wasn’t very talkative at all, she was quite tired. He painted while she chewed, the two shading glances and smiles every now and then. He’d let her use the hammock in his sanctuary for privacy and he’d sleep in his palace home in Talokan. She’d end the night with a shell call to her family and pass out after washing up in the wash room he built upon her arrival. This is how they’d spend the next two weeks, getting her acclimated. When they were alone their conversations remained sweet and casual. Namor was pretty quiet, which she didn’t mind. Their silence was comfortable and his presence was grounding for her. When they did speak, it was about their likes and dislikes. He’d tell her stories of great fights he had and she’d tell crazy emergency room stories. They were two sides of the same coin. Most of all she found it easy to just be with Namor. She expected him to be some brooding asshole who she would barely see until the wedding. He wasn’t like that at all.

On one particular night, Talokan had a festival. This festival highlighted the mating season amongst their whales which meant less labor for them. There was alcohol, food and laughter. They were getting very curious of her, some even coming up and asking her questions. Children pulled on the material of her suit, staring at her. She didn’t mind at all. She’d always end up getting tired hours before they did and Namor had a servant send her back up.

She bathed, ate and called her family. A servant left her a glass of the sickly sweet rum they had been drinking. She took a few sips and eventually downed the entire glass. Thankfully she found the serving pitcher that was left for her and she had another. And…another and another.

She was Drunk in capital D.

So drunk in fact, that she dipped her feet in the cracks of water that split across the cave floor. If she concentrated enough she could see tiny little fish swim past her toes. She passed out with one foot in and one foot out. Eventually she stirred awake when she was lifted like a rag doll and gently placed on a hammock.

“Namor”, she croaks.

“ I’m here Koj león.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Her eyes were closed as she searched for his face. She finds his cheek and she can hear his deep chuckle vibrate through the room. He takes her hand and clasps it in his fists as he kneels down on one knee beside her.

“ For drinking all your wine”, she whispered quietly. He chuckles even harder and she opens one eye to smirk at him.

“ You are intoxicated. Drink some water.”

“No”, she grunts.

“ Ah ah, drink.” He holds a cup up to her mouth and she sips slowly. He doesn’t stop until she finishes the 8 ounces given to her.  He pulls the cover over her and she can feel him pulling away to let her rest. Her grasp on his hand tightens.

“Namor.”

“Yes.”

“Just stay a second… please just s–seecond.”

“Okay.”

“Namor. I have to tell you something.”

“ Yes Xahli.”

“ How come call me that name? That kaaaajjjj name. What is that?”

“ It means dandelion.”

“ Huh…that’s not my name.”

“ I know Xahl “, he chuckles.

“ Why ?”

“ Because you’re fragile in a good way. In a strong way.”

“You’re calling me a cry baby. I guess that makes sense. All I’ve done since we’ve met is cry.���

“ Your tears saved your country. The night we met at the beach your hair was large and fluffy like a dandelion. The name just came to me. I can stop if you are uncomfortable”, he said.

“ Hmm. Nice save.”

“ You need to rest.” She ignores him and uses her elbow to lift her top half up. They were face to face now.

It’s strange how it happens. The two of them just stare at each other one minute and then the next thing she knows, her lips are on his. She can feel him get stiff and she pulls away in uncertainty. He leans in this time and he tastes her tongue. She grabs the back of his thick hair and pulls him closer as the kiss gains momentum. She moans into his mouth, he’s a damn good kisser. Xahli gets rough, pulling his body towards hers, trying to coax him onto the hammock.. He pulls away and her mouth follows. Now they’re in a tug of war. He detached his mouth from hers and left wet kisses down her jaw and neck. She moaned loudly at that, her neck was a very sensitive spot for her.

“Pleaseee.”

“ We cannot.”

“ Why? ”,  she whined deliriously. She’s throbbing between her legs. Her stomach is swirling with desire. She wasn’t thinking this through but every decision she’d made in the last week was risky. Why stop now? He didn’t answer as she gripped and pulled at him. Her fingers FINALLY roamed his broad shoulders and chest. His mouth left her neck before he sighs in frustration. He’s holding her at arms length. Could she not have chosen a better time than when she was drunk? Otherwise he would have already made her cum twice by now.

“ You don’t find me attractive do you? You probably envisioned somebody different to be your queen right ? One of your own? Someone you don’t have to explain everything to. S-some who can breathe water?”, her eyes fill with tears. Her most insecure subconscious thoughts came to the forefront. She could not hold it. He looks at her in shock.  His eyes reflect her sadness as he cups her face in his large hands.

“ You don’t realize that I changed my plans for you ? The moment I saw you. Namora screamed at me for what I had done. I was not supposed to have you, again.”

“ What did you do ?”

“ I chose you…Xahli. This was not the way the story was supposed to end.” She looks at him with a puzzled expression. She’s too impaired to be thinking hard.

“ Now,I don’t know how the hell you finished that entire pitcher but our libations are very strong. You are very inebriated. I don’t do that—this. If you really want me then express it sober. Do you understand ?

“Okay…”

“ Say it. Say you understand.”

“I understand.” He places a kiss on her forehead and nudges her back on the hammock, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. He leaves her to rest.

———————————————————————————-

She awakes and her entire head is throbbing like a heartbeat. She groans in agony. He’s sitting at the table across from her and stands up immediately to aid her.

“ drink.” He gives her water first and then some fruity and earthy concoction that he swore would cure her headache.  A few minutes later she feels well enough to sit up. He gives her bread and fruit to combat the nausea. She begrudgingly eats it with her eyes closed.

“ I guess you can see why I don’t drink.”

“ Our drinks are strong here. It’s harder for us to get inebriated than normal humans so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Images of last night come rushing back, his lips on her neck. His kiss—his surprisingly warm touch. She cringes and drops her head into her hands moaning in embarrassment.

He can tell by her face that the memories just greeted her. He hides his smirk, turning his attention back to the food he was eating.

“ I am so…SO sorry. I —-I’m not usually like that. I’m actually not much of a drinker. I don’t know what came over me I guess I just—”

“ You’re fine Koj león. Truly.”

“ Are you sure ? I didn’t make you uncomfortable did I? That was not fucking cool. If a guy did that I would probably kill him. I mean —-”

“ Trust me I’m not complaining. We are to be married and if I was uncomfortable I easily could have pulled you off. You’re fine.” He had a point, she thought. He apparently was super strong according to Shuri. Her face heats up internally as she takes a sip of waters.

“ It’s an added plus that you’re very beautiful. I don’t complain about being kissed by gorgeous people. Was it bad for you? “

“NO. Nope.” She was flustered, suddenly noticing the air was stale. He got off on making her squirm, not bothering to break eye contact with her as her eyes shifted around the room. She looked inside of her cup with fake concern. He knew damn well she didn’t give a fuck about what was in her cup. It was just water now.

“ And I explained to you my terms—If you remember. “ It takes her a moment to figure out what he meant but then it came back to her.

If you really want me then you express it sober. You understand ? Say it. Say you understand.

She almost shivered when she remembered his tone, rumbling and quiet in the dark. She was self aware enough to admit her attraction to him inside her head. She hands him her plate and he places it on the table. She joins him at the table, sitting across from him.

“ Last night–before we got distracted, I was trying to tell you that my mother told me that my father was Talokanil. That letter she gave you…I assume it’s the letter my birth mother left me. She said that the inside of it contains information about him. I don’t know if I’m ready to open it .”

“Why ?”

“ My mother has been notorious for keeping the secrets of my father. One of them being that we had an uncle that he killed with his bare hands in the states. I’m just worried that there’s more shit in there that she’s been hiding from me.”

“I’m sure everything your mother did was out of love.”

“I’m sure too. We have a great relationship but we’ve bumped heads over the last few years because of all the secrets. My father was a good dad and husband… but sometimes he did questionable things. I suppose every leader has moments like that perhaps. She tells me she was close with my mother to the point that she considered her a sister. If I ask too many questions about her then she’d just walk away or get emotional. I don’t know….I just don’t feel like dealing with anything heavy. It seems like everything over the past few years has been heavy.”

“ I remember when I lost my mother, I thought I couldn’t go on. I avoided the hard talks with her about her mortality. I knew it was coming. She did everything she could to prepare me for a life without her. When she was gone a rage ripped through me like none other. Then I found the belongings of my father that she kept hidden from me, tucked away in our home. His clothes, his drawings and other belongings–she hid it all. I knew it was his because his name was attached and stitched into the fabrics he wore and attached to his paintings. I wondered why she would keep that from me, especially when I had never met him. I’d ask about him every now and then and she forbid me to speak about it. Why would she refuse to bring him up, I thought? Pretty soon I was grieving a father I never met too. Missing my mother while being upset that she was gone and also upset that she never told me about my father. It was confusing. Her loss was like a betrayal to me. After losing my first wife I understood why. I understood my mother more than ever. Grief can harden you…Xahli. I don’t want that for you. Extend your mother just a little bit of grace.”

The room quiets as she takes in his words. “You talk a good game for somebody who attacked her.”

“ She ran in front of the girl for goodness sake.”, he rolled his eyes.

“ Oh really? So you’re saying it’s her fault?”

“ IM SAY- look. I’m sorry.”

“ Tell her that. Somehow you’ve already managed to get on my good side but it’s her you’ll have to win over.”

“ I’m winning you over ?”, He says in a low suggestive tone. Her stomach drops at the deviant look he gives her.

“You’re pushing it “, she warns. He puts his hands up in a surrender before biting into an apple.

“ What are you doing today ?”

“ Well in a few hours I’ll be holding a council meeting. Then I’ll be doing something that involves keeping our identity hidden from invaders who have been snooping around the perimeter.  I’m sure you don’t want to know the details.”

“ I don’t ? “, her brows raise in confusion.

“ No, you don’t trust me”, a darkness takes over his eyes, a warning of sorts.

“ Okay ” , she says with a shrug.

“ I’ll be sending you back home for a few days. It’s part of our deal after all. Besides I’m sure your family would like to see you before we wed in 10 days time.”

“ Oh right I forgot.. So how do you do weddings here ?

“ We will wed before our people on the coast. Beforehand you will pick the dress you desire most and you will be crowned, then you will swear an oath to Talokan. Afterwards, there is a week-long celebration. After our first week of marriage you will receive  Marca le kaano’ or mark of the snake.”

“What like… a tattoo?”

“ It is a mark placed on your back. It is used with a sterilized wooden tool that presses ink into the skin. Every person of Talokan receives this mark. Yours will be slightly different in appearance because you will be my Queen. How good are you with pain?”

“ Fairly good.”

“ Well either way it won’t matter, there will be a numbing agent available for you.”

“ Well that’s always a relief”, she smiles.

“ As for your transportation, Attuma will accompany you on your journey. I’ve talked with him and he won’t bother you like your first encounter. “

“ Okay, well I’ll go wash up.” By the time she finished bathing her hangover was pretty much gone and she came out refreshed. She changed and fixed her hair before heading back inside of the sanctuary. Namor went back to his painting and she settled down while reading a book she meant to catch up on.

“Kukulkan”, A gravely baritone voice calls out to Namor  a few feet outside of the tent.. Her stomach drops.

“ Attuma is here for you. Get your things and call me before bed”, He pauses in front of her and looks at her mouth. She contemplates if she should kiss him but he places a kiss on her cheek. He can sense the annoyance in her face and smirks knowingly, bidding her a goodbye.  

For a moment she just stands there, contemplating what exactly that meant before slowly backing out of the tent. Attuma stood near the waterfall, waiting. She can finally get a good analysis on what he truly looks like now that he wasn’t bum rushing her. Tall, blue, stocky yet long, dark almost black eyes, an impeccable hammerhead shark piece and a wooden staff made with bone and sharpened jade. His neck and shoulder pieces were also made from bone and animal shelling. His impeccable torso was marked strategically with what she assumed were tribal or customary symbols. His lower waist was wrapped in a leather waist band that covered his groin to mid knee. He wore animal hide woven material from his feet to under his knee and  mid foot. He had an elbow guard made out of bones as well. He looked badass and everything he wore appeared intimidating, yet rich in culture and meaning. She decides it best not to take her things because she’d just be bringing them right back. Xahli walked over to Attuma and decided that the time for formalities was now.

“ Hi. My name is Xahli “, she holds out her hand and he looks at it before looking back at her with his arms crossed.

“ Mhm”, he huffs. She withdraws her hand and scratches her head awkwardly.

“ Attuma. Go–now “,  he says in English. Her brows raise in surprise.

“ You can speak English ?”

“ Little”, he grabbed her by her waist abruptly, took off his mask and pressed it against her face. She gets only but a few seconds to take in his bare face before he falls into water with her against his chest.

It’s a shock to her system, the water is freezing. The water pressure was just bearable from the cave to the coast. She wouldn’t need a suit but she sure would be soaking wet. He got her there in minutes, gliding through the water as easily as a bird. He was a human jet, a super man underwater much like Namor. They pass schools of fish, dolphins and even packs of whales. She’d never get used to the sheer size of the underwater mammals. All of it triggered her thalassophobia pretty wickedly. She clutched to him in fear, realizing that she didn’t have a chance to be put to sleep like the first trip. The world looked so different from the perspective of the water. It felt like she was on a different planet.

He bursts out of the water with the same velocity a dolphin would and landed on his feet like a cat, holding her bridal style. He was dangerously agile for his size. She rips her mask off and gasps, eyes wide as she looks around in astonishment. Gently, he places her on her feet and takes the mask from her. He bends down to scoop water into the mask and presses it to his face.

“ A warning would have been nice”, she wrings her long coils out searching in her pockets for a silk hair grip. Attuma turns away and starts to walk towards the palace. She stomped behind him pissed and soaking wet. He walked her up to her palace entrance. Two Dora’s stand on either side looking at him quizzically before resuming the assumed position.

“ Back in three days time. At shore when the sky is dark. Goodbye “, he immediately turns away from her but she grabs his hand. He turns to her, tilting his head in confusion.

“ Do you want to come inside for a bit ? Unless you have somewhere to be?” Attuma reaches for his translator and flicks it on.

“ It is best I do not overstep princess.”

“ I am not a princess. I can take you up to my room and nobody will see you. I would like to get to know you better.”

“Is that a command ?”

“ I can command you now ?”

“ As Queen consort, yes.”

“ Then yes. I command it, now follow me ya’ big mountain.”

Before she leads Attuma up the marble stairs, she informs the Dora’s not to let her family know of her presence. She guides him up to the next floor and she notices his curiosity at all the different textures and patterns inside her home. He doesn’t touch or poke anything, in fact you’d think the walls were hot lava with the way he avoided brushing against anything. She grabs his hand and guides him to the elevator that goes up to her personal wing of the palace. He’s a bit startled once he senses movement inside of the contraption and he nearly crouches into a defensive stance.

“ It’s okay, this machine is taking us to my room quicker,“ she reassured. He nods and regains his icy stoic composure again. She leads him to her room and finds her tabby cat, mango sitting on the bed. She gasps walking over to him and picking him up.

“ This is my baby”, her voice goes up in pitch almost comically, imitating a baby. Attuma finds that weird considering, that the cat was very much not a baby.

“ His name is mango. “

“ Felino”,  says Attuma. His translation device picks it up as feline.

“We say cat. In english at least.”

“ C…”, his mouth forms the letter.

“ Ch -AHT”, he says. The word feels thick in his mouth.

“ Yes relax your tongue. Caaaattt.” She tried to say it slowly but he gave up, waving her away with his hand.

“ I don’t blame your disinterest in the language. English is quite strange but it is most convenient for international affairs. Xhosa is very challenging for outsiders because of the clicks. Like my name, for example, Xahli she elongated her name.” He tries it out.

“ Xahli”, he said perfectly. The translator was not needed at all.

“That was quite good Attuma”,  she chuckled. He gives her no expression and instead turns his attention back to her cat.

“ Pet him, he’s a nice kitty”,  she grabs his hand and guides it to the cat’s fur. Attuma flinches in hesitancy but she coaxes him into it, ultimately getting her way. Mango purs, just happy to be receiving attention like the star he is.

“ Have you ever seen a cat before?”

“ No. Only in books princess”,  he speaks lowly over the responding robotic voice.

“ I told you I’m no princess. He’s purring that means he likes you. He can judge character quite well. You must be a nice guy Attuma”, she smirks at him before pushing the cat into his arms. Attuma holds the cat awkwardly but eventually loosens up as Mango nudges the side of his cheek against his face.  He holds mango as he walks around her room, looking at all the earthy tones and elaborate patterns. Her curtains were orange casting an orange glow over the room. He could see the ocean from the distance out of her window. A book-like device sits on a desk, he opens it and it glows. A 3D diagram pops out of it and he slowly swipes his hand through its phantom structure.

“ It’s my computer for work.” He roughly slaps it closed and moves onto something else. He puts mango down on the ground and continues to inspect her room. She closed her door and fell onto her mattress with an exaggerated sigh.

“ It feels so good to be back on my bed. The hammock is okay but nothing beats a mattress I can’t lie.” Attuma turns to her and and looks out of the window.

“ I must go.”

“ But you just got here.”

“ I have other duties to tend to today’s princess.”

“ I am not a princess.”

“ Can it be my name for you, since I am the mountain?” She can’t help the grin spreading across her face.

“Fine. Let me walk you to the door”, She hopped up from her bed making sure to leave the door open for Mango. They went back down the elevator and they stopped right at the shore.

“ You could come back tomorrow even if it’s just for a little while.”

“ Are you certain?”

“ If it’s no trouble. You’re very interesting “, she said. He looks out to the ocean then back at her in contemplation. He shakes his head to himself and sighs. He seems conflicted as if he’s doing something he should not.

“ Okay. Tomorrow night when the high tide starts.”

“ High tide”,  she agrees. He descends into the ocean walking until his head disappears.

Back inside the palace she bursts into her mothers bedroom, startling her. “ MOTHER, SHURII, I’M HOME!!”, she yelled excitedly.

“ For BAST sake child!”,  Her mother held her chest as she rushed into her daughters arms.

“ My baby”, she mumbled , squeezing her tightly. Like clock work, in came Shuri who added onto the group hug.

“ Sister, you smell like salt.”

“ Two weeks I am gone and You’re commenting on my smell”,  she chuckled.

Nakia and Okoye visit her at dinner and they notice how revived she looked. She seems oddly chipper considering she was to be the bride of an underwater evil God. She insisted that Namor left her alone most of the time to explore and that he was kind. That wasn’t entirely true. They’d been connecting and as of recently, kissing. Longing glances exchanged over good food and stories of yesteryear. There was a bond forming and she didn’t have the strength to tell them. How does she tell her family that the man that brought them utter fear and chaos had a soft spot for kids?  How would she tell them that he had a touch as soft as a feather and love for the arts? Why should they care and better yet, why should she ?

Night time rolls around and she lays in bed fresh after a bath and hair treatment. The salt water her hair dry. Xahli figured that now would be a great time to call him. She held the shell up to her ear and before she even fully gets his name out she’s saying hers back to her.

“Xahli”, he whispers  She giggles. God shes fucking gone, he’s already sunk his claws in and she knew it.

“ Were you waiting for me ?”, she asks.

“ I didn’t want to miss your call.”

“How considerate .”

“ No problems from Attuma ?”

“ None he was the perfect gentleman.. though I think he finds me to be a bit insane”, she joked.

“Why ?”

“I invited him up to my bedroom and made him pet my cat.”

“ I’ve seen one of those, they leave nasty scratches.”

“ Maybe cats just don’t like you”, she teased.

“ I am fine with that in Reina (my queen)”.

She yawns in response. Today was a full day of talking with her family and starving off hangover fatigue.

“ It is time for bed. I will speak with you tomorrow night or wh-”

“ Namor … do you ever hate being as old as you are ? DO you wish for different?”

He pauses at the question, taking a few seconds to answer.

“ There have been moments where I have wished for death. There is a stagnation to my life that I never quite gotten used to, especially after the death of my wife.”

“ I’m so sorry. How did she pass if you don’t mind me asking ? I know that earlier I brought up my profession and you got upset.”

“ She had a weak heart. She was born with a defect that caused her heart to be very…fragile. She’d been cut open many times in attempts to fix issues that would keep coming back. She passed away at the age of 35 years old.”

Now she understood why he made that face.

“ Your people take a form on the vibranium. It’s what made them so strong and able to live such a long life. I guess not even vibranium can stop the trials and tribulations of life. My brother fell deathly sick and passed. He was the Black panther..our protector. He could lift a rhino over his head. He could even pick up me, Shuri and mother all at once. Then one day he was gone…. I understand your pain. I am sorry Namor.”

“ Time has passed. It lessens the sting.”

“ Can I ask you another very.,. Personal question?”

“ Yes .”

“ Do you ever get lonely…constantly meeting new sets of people? Saying goodbye to the ones you knew ? Starting over with new ones?”

“ At times If I sit and think about it, yes. However the beauty of life is that there are constantly new connections to be made. I’ve lived long enough to believe I’ve met the same people twice, sometimes even three times over. Friends and loved ones always show up again in some way or another.”

“ That’s very wise. Have we met  before ?”, She jokes but her subconscious knows the truth.

He tilts his head at her question, looking at the shell in contemplation. Should he say it? Would it be too frightening for her ?

“ I don’t feel familiar to you? In reina ?”

Authors note:

Oc’s name is pronounced like (tahhh-lee) but the T is replaced with a click.

[shamelesslyshippingocxcanon]

Bucky x Reader: Wakanda

Let's face the fact that Wakanda Bucky is a dandere. He's soft and shy, and basically blushes if you talk to him

You'd be: A) This Wakandan person, whether native or adopted by SoMeOne, or B) You're this CIA agent who gets to tag along with Ross during the Wakanda-opens-up-to-the-world thing

cough cough that's the best thing to do with an OC shipped with Bucky cough cough

You're anyhow amazed at the place. It's not every day you see friendly rhinos, a black panther, a genius princess, and female warriors with Starbucks cups

I also headcanon that Okoye almost quit the Dora unless T'Challa made a Starbucks in Wakanda

And Bucky is on the list of amazing things

The first time he saw you, he was pretty sure he was hallucinating or something, you looked...different than the Wakandans he met

Shuri is the first one to catch one, you guys

"Oh! Y/n! Meet Bucky! He's this brainwashed ass-"

"Shuri!" He gets really flustered

"Y/n Y/n/l, work at CIA"

He vaguely might recall you from the area

"Pleased to meet you...Y/n"

He doesn't realize it's a crush till Steve and Natasha and Sam visit, they immediately start teasing (Nat and Sam) laughing randomly (Sam), and giving advice (Steve and Nat)

He shows up with small excuses like 'Um...Zazu the guy from the coffee shop said you missed the coffee break, and I got it for you' and 'Shuri said you have to go back to the lab...you want me to come with you?'

It's adorable

But one night you accidentally hear him while having a nightmare, you were walking outside peacefully. And you heard him, of course, you're a good person. So you went over and woke him up.

And of course, Bucky is god damned embarrassed, and he doesn't sleep with his arm and shirt on.

But you're more worried about him than the arm and the shirt, you ask him a bunch of questions

"Are you okay Bucky?"

"Yeah...I'm fine, I'm fine"

As you start to leave the blurts out if you could stay with him. Which makes you stop in your tracks. He curses himself for talking and tries to apologize.

But you accept to his surprise. Why wouldn't you?

He doesn't have to wake up all night. Best sleep ever, and you KINDA cuddle.

It would be an awesome moment to just...say you both really like each other

It slips away

But! He does come to you when he has nightmares, and you come to him with problems. Ending up spending so much time together.

He can't ask you out, not now, he's afraid of scaring you away, you're his whole world.

But you LOVE him, not like him.

Bucky and you start getting closer, hugs get a bit more common, and he actualy kisses you one time, on the forehead, a surprise for both

Shuri literally is going to die, she's gonna resort to stalking

"JUST KISS ALREADY YOU TWO!"

"But Shuri, we do."

"WAHTTT-"

"Platonically Shuri."

Also, headcanon that Ramonda adopted Bucky

At this point, every single person in Wakanda ships you two, even the goats seem determined to push you two tougher, literally.

"Which was this ass?"

"Uh...I think it's Rumlow...?"

"You named a goat after a HYDRA agent??"

"Rumlow was the first jerk I thought of."

Finally, he asked you out. T'Challa threw a massive party in the palace, Bucky steered away and bumped into you on the top floor of the palace you looked...amazing, as you always did though

So, he manages to get himself together before talking to you

He's still shy, and he's probably gonna ramble for a bit before getting to the point.

"I really like you- Actually...I think...I love you..."

Your brain takes a minute to process it, and he's already apologizing

"I mean, you really don't have to do anything, I just had to put it out there an-"

"It's okay. Cause...I love you too."

[goddess-mixmi]

“ She’s calamity, a witch maybe..a violent storm. That’s why we call her Lady Tempest”

Meet Imani Irie Williams or “Tempest” one of the Avengers. Born in New York to a Wakandan father and Jamaican mother, when she was 2 her father moved their family back to Wakanda where she was raised with her little brother. During her time there she was more a outcast because everyone but her knew she was going to be dangerous some day. And when that day came after her father and mother’s passing she was starting to develop her weather powers and the white magic her mother passed down to her.

Discovering her powers during Loki’s attack on New York she soon became X-Men’s very own Storm student and learned her ways of controlling her powers and about the x-gene. There Imani learned that her very weakness was her own rage which is why she’s called Tempest “a violent storm”. Because of that she wears specialized bracelets to balance out her powers, it’s a safety precaution to limit the amount of power she uses. It can also completely blocked when both bracelets are hit directly by Wakandan spears.

She is T’Challa’s best friend and a trusted member of the royal family. Soon after she befriends the Avengers in hopes for finding the man who killer her father but she strays from her goal and finds herself more at ease in their presence.

And she has a few love interests along the way, two ended in tragedy and the last grew from trust and friendship.

This is what she looks like when her powers aren’t activated. Her hair turns white upon using her powers, that is the main reason why people assume she’s Storm. But despite them having similar appearance and powers, both women are completely different.

[starcrossedxwriter]

New Fic Alert: Unbreakable (Erik Killmonger x Black Wakandan OC)

Listen. I have 0 self control lol so here we are with another oneeee. This is a Black Panther AU in which Erik was raised alongside T'Challa in Wakanda after his father died and returned to America at 18. And Nakia has a sister (our OC).

Summary:

Naja, the younger sister of the Queen of Wakanda, hated few things. And at the top of that shortlist: Prince N’Jadaka. Well, if she were honest, he was the entirety of the list. Once destined to be a princess of Wakanda, Naja was the picture of kindness and grace. Now, she is hailed as Wakanda’s most fearless, dangerous, and reclusive war dog. After more than a decade of putting as much distance as possible between her and the life she almost had, Naja is forced to come face to face with the person she hates most again. With a threat looming over Wakanda and lives at risk, Naja must decide if trusting Prince N'Jadaka is worth the risk before it is too late.

So because these folks are actually fictional lol I have a face claim for our OC for once! But like all my OCs, you should picture yourself if you want.

This is for my Erik Killmonger girliesssssss! Trying my hand at something new (we'll see how it goes lol) Let me know if you want to be tagged.

[sjsmith56]

Regret, Chapter 10 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: The person responsible for the play set makes themselves known. Lacey goes to the funeral of a family member but has to leave early when she is followed.

Length. 4.6 K

Characters: Lacey, Clint, Tony Stark, Phil Coulson, OCs (Lacey’s family)

Warnings: Emotional family issues get addressed.

Author notes: Bucky isn’t directly in this chapter, although he is referred to. I brought in Phil Coulson so that he and Clint could have a moment to resolve what happened when Clint was compromised. The funeral helps to set up other chapters further in the story.

<<Chapter 9

🛝 📷

Shuri contacted Lacey after Bucky returned to cryostasis to learn more about the play set. When the Princess described the toys that were actually sent on Bucky's behalf Lacey didn't know what to think. It was suggested that Lacey take a closer look at the play set and see if there were any marks on it of any kind that could identify it. When she brought it up later to Clint and Laura they both looked concerned.

"If it wasn't the Wakandans that sent it then who?" asked Clint. "No one except Fury knows we're here and I can't see him sending this without making an appearance or at least an acknowledgement."

"Could it be one of the Avengers that came here after that mission to hide out?" asked Laura.

"Steve sent a present, so did Natasha," said Lacey. "Thor and Bruce are still missing, right? That leaves Tony and he wouldn't, not after finding out about Bucky."

"What do you mean?" asked Clint. "He's known about Bucky most of the time. What haven't you told us?"

Lacey covered her mouth, angry at herself. "One of the things that Zemo did was to reveal to Tony Stark who killed his parents," she said, not wanting to say anything further but Clint still looked blankly at her. "He revealed it in Siberia, when he followed Steve and Bucky there. It's why he shot Bucky's arm off."

"Shit, the Winter Soldier," said Clint. "It was always thought to be a traffic accident but it was a hit?"

Lacey nodded. "There was traffic cam footage and Zemo showed Stark," she said. "Sent him into a rage and he tried to kill Bucky. He and Steve had to team up and fight him together to stop him. It's why Steve and Sam went underground."

"Damn," said Clint. "But why would Tony send a play set, an expensive one at that, to the son of the man who killed his parents? Unless, the decryption of the HYDRA files has made him realize Bucky was never in control."

Lacey went over to the play set and began to inspect it for any sign it came from Tony, knowing that his ego was big enough for him to put something on it but she found nothing and although she agreed with Clint's speculation there was no actual proof he sent it.

The matter would have been considered unresolved if Lacey hadn't received a visit from the man himself soon after. Clint applied to have his restrictions relaxed. He had to attend a hearing outside of his 10 mile radius so Agent Jones came to pick him up and Laura went with them. The older two children, Cooper and Lila, were at school, leaving Lacey to look after Nathaniel and now 20 month old Tommy. While they were outside playing a sound from the sky attracted their attention. Gathering the two boys close to her Lacey watched as Iron Man descended into the yard. The two little boys were awestruck as the suit opened and Tony Stark stepped out. Lacey said nothing when she saw him, unsure of why he was there but to his credit he came right over, smiling in a friendly manner.

"It looks good," he said, waving his hand at the structure. "Tommy likes it?"

"He loves it," she replied. "Why didn't the installers say it was from you? And how do you know his name?"

"I wasn't sure you would accept it, given the circumstances," he said, frowning slightly, then looking closer at Tommy. "He is definitely Barnes' son. Those eyes ...." Lacey didn't respond. "Look, here's the thing. Yes, I did try to kill Barnes but I was in a rage at the time due to that Sokovian madman showing me something no child, even one as old as me, should ever see. I'm still working on forgiveness but I have acquired understanding of what HYDRA did to him to make him into what he was. He needs treatment and I'm glad he's getting it."

"It might be years before he's well enough to join us," said Lacey. "Are you going to come after him then?"

Tony paused, giving her a sad but understanding look that said it all.  It was probably the only time Lacey would see Tony Stark looking humbled.

"No, there's been too much hate and violence already because of HYDRA.  He won't be in danger from me. I know I'm not the easiest man to deal with. God knows my father and I were at each other's throats often enough. I would give up all my money to tell him face to face that I loved him, just once. Barnes has a chance at a normal life with you and Tommy. I'm willing to let him have it."

Lacey nodded, realizing this was as close to an apology that anyone would ever receive from Tony Stark.

"You still haven't said how you know my son's name," she stated.

"Being a billionaire has its advantages," replied Stark, grinning wickedly once more. "I just put Friday on it. Now, can I see how this little guy moves? I'm guessing he is showing signs of inheriting the super soldier abilities? We'll have to keep what's left of HYDRA and the CIA from finding out. The lawyer said the decrypted HYDRA files will go a long way to exonerating Barnes but it will be a while until he can return to protect his family himself."

"You're paying for the lawyer, aren't you?" asked Lacey.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds it may make me seem like a better man," smiled Stark, then turned back to the two little boys. "Come on, Tommy, Nathaniel. Show your Uncle Tony how you use this thing."

He stayed and played with the boys for almost an hour, climbing up the structure with them, sliding down on the slide portion then encouraging them to use the rope swing, even helping Nathaniel get down when he panicked after being up too high. As Lacey watched she could tell Tony was assessing Tommy's capabilities as he played. Her son didn't disappoint as he jumped up from the ground to grab hold of the monkey bars portion and pulled himself across them. Then he climbed to the top several times and jumped off with a joyous yell. His strength, dexterity and bravery were all on full display and when Tony finally stopped playing, claiming he was too old for this, he came and sat on the grass next to Lacey, still watching the pair.

"He's impressive," he stated. "Just a toddler and he's doing things that much older kids would do. Does he know about his dad?"

"We've had a couple of video calls with him," she replied. "They've restored Bucky's early memories and found other HYDRA memories that set him back a little. They're working on the activation words right now."

"His arm?"

"They haven't really said other than they're working on a replacement," she admitted. "I'm guessing it won't be the heavy burden the first one was. Why do you care, Tony?"

He sighed. "I told you." Lacey looked unconvinced. "I guess what it comes down to is that if the CIA had told my dad after the war that Bucky Barnes was still alive and being tortured to turn him into an assassin my dad would have flown the plane to rescue him. He would have probably bankrolled the rescue himself. He talked a lot about Steve Rogers when I was growing up but he also told me about Sergeant Barnes, Captain America's protector since childhood. Dad and Barnes competed for the same women but also had some good conversations about science and technology. Barnes must have impressed him with his knowledge and understanding because my dad talked about how the differences in their upbringing made Barnes an ordinary soldier instead of an engineer. He thought that was as great a loss as Barnes dying. I'm just trying to honour my dad by trying to help Barnes now, I guess."

"It's true then," said Lacey, grinning. "Tony Stark does have a heart."

"Now you're just insulting me," he said, standing up and brushing off his backside. "Time to go before you say I probably feel guilty about breaking up the Avengers."

He stopped in his tracks, realizing he had spoken that last part out loud. Then he turned to her with a regretful smile before walking over to his Iron Man suit. The boys both stopped what they were doing and watched in fascination as the suit opened up, enclosed Stark inside, and then with a wave lifted off into the sky. Both boys waved back watching him until he was no longer visible. When Clint and Laura arrived back an hour later with the news that Clint's radius had been extended to 50 miles she told them of Tony's visit.

"Good thing I wasn't here," said Clint. "I'm still angry at him. But at least it sounds like he's slowly coming around. He actually played with the boys?"

"For an hour at least," she said. "He was assessing Tommy while he was doing it. He's paying Bucky's lawyer as well."

"Now I have heard everything," grinned Clint.

It remained a source of conversation between the three for much of the day. Two days after Tony's visit a FedEx truck delivered some boxes addressed to Nathaniel Barton and Tommy Chapman.  Inside were several sets and varieties of toddler friendly building blocks.  Clint didn't want to accept them but both Laura and Lacey convinced him that the boys would both enjoy the toys.

Later that week Lacey received word via a Nick Fury phone call that her mother had died. He left it to her whether she wanted to go to the funeral but did say he would provide transportation, accommodation, and security for her, if that was a concern. She discussed it with Clint and Laura, who advised her to go. After sleeping on it she agreed and informed Fury she would. The day came soon enough and she waited for what she thought would be a limousine to pick her and Tommy up. Instead it was a quinjet and a rather straight laced man in a suit stepped out. Clint immediately stepped forward offering his hand.

"Phil, it's been a long time," he said. "I'm sorry I was on the wrong side at the time."

"Clint," the man politely accepted his hand. "It's all water under the bridge. Miss Chapman, I'm Phil Coulson, SHIELD. If you and your son would follow me I'll strap you in."

Clint waved goodbye and stepped back as the quinjet took off. Coulson sat next Lacey on the aircraft and smiled kindly at her.  Right away, she felt at ease with the man.

"We have a safe house in Philadelphia for you and your son to stay," he advised her. "We will transport you to the funeral in Wilmington. Myself and another agent will provide security for you, with a third agent driving. Afterwards we will return to the safe house then return you to Barton's farm the following morning." He looked at Tommy in a friendly way. "He seems to be a happy child. Is he aware of his father?"

"You know?" asked Lacey, surprised.

"I was read in," he said calmly. "This child is unique and mustn't be raised by anyone other than yourself. He must grow up without interference."

"May I ask what your connection to Clint is?" asked Lacey.

"We were colleagues at SHIELD," replied Coulson. "Barton was compromised, his mind taken over by a demi god with delusions of grandeur. He helped attack the location where we were holding the individual. I was killed in the process." Lacey looked horrified as Coulson smiled grimly. "Fury used alien technology to resurrect me but there was a cost. Clint still feels guilt for his part in my death and I'm still angry at Fury for not letting me die. I still trust him as part of SHIELD which is why I still work for him but we're no longer friends."

"I'm sorry," said Lacey. "Clint and Laura have become like family to me. He never mentioned it."

"He wouldn't," said Coulson. "He still wears his guilt inside."

They didn't speak for the remainder of the flight. When they landed a limousine was waiting for them and she was taken to a high rise apartment building. Their "safe house" turned out to be the four bedroom penthouse with a 360 degree view. Two other agents were already there, a young woman named Daisy Johnson, and a rather stern faced man by the name of Alphonso Mackenzie.

"Just call me Mack," he said on their introduction. "I'm sorry for your loss. I'll be your driver while Coulson and Johnson will accompany you to the funeral."

"Is there really a possibility that HYDRA or the CIA will come after us?" she asked.

"Hard to say," said Coulson. "You've done very well staying off the radar, except for allowing your own picture to go with your pseudonym for your second book. If they know of your first book written under your real name they can make the connection pretty easily as you were listed on your mother's obituary as next-of-kin.  Someone may be watching for you and could wonder how you got pregnant with this little guy."

"He is pretty adorable," said Daisy, smiling at Tommy and getting a shy smile in return. "I'll make sure no one touches him."

"Except for my family," said Lacey, quickly. "Although if my brother is still an asshole I'll rethink that."

"Come on, I'll show you to your room," said Daisy. "We don't have a crib for Tommy but it is a king-sized bed so there should be enough room for both of you to share."

She opened the door to a fairly large room with a king-sized bed. There was a bathtub in the bathroom which Lacey was glad for Tommy's sake as she brought some bath toys in her suitcase. Daisy kept her eyes out the window as Lacey unpacked which drew the latter's attention.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Force of habit," replied Daisy before turning her attention to Lacey. "May I ask if Tommy has his father's abilities?"

"It appears so," said Lacey. "Tony Stark gave us a big play set for Christmas and this guy is all over it, even jumping off the top ... a distance of about 12 feet. When I was still nursing him it was pretty tiring. Every four hours until he was a year old, even though I started him on solids at about 5 months. Bucky said it's because super soldiers need more calories than regular humans. Tommy can eat as much as a normal adult now."

"That's incredible," said Daisy. "I'll make sure we have lots of food available for him for dinner and breakfast. Can't have this little guy go hungry."

She smiled at him again and this time he climbed on the bed and began jumping on it, making a show of it, as he touched the high ceiling several times. He entertained both of them for as long as they were willing to watch. After dinner and a bath he tired himself enough to sleep and Lacey joined him soon after. In the morning it didn't take long to get ready for the 11 am funeral. While Mack drove, Coulson sat in the front, as Daisy sat in the back with Lacey and Tommy. They arrived at the funeral about 15 minutes before its start time and both SHIELD agents stepped out of the car first, checking the area before giving Lacey the okay. Other funeral goers were confused to what was going on but several family members recognized Lacey and waved.

"It's okay, I know these people," said Lacey to Coulson, when her aunt and uncle approached her.

"What's going on?" asked her Uncle Bert. "Why do you have a bodyguard?"

"It's a long story but in a way it's related to Tom's death," said Lacey. "Some unsavoury people kept looking for me for a long time after Tom died. I'm still a little paranoid so I have a security detail."

"Who is this little angel?" asked her Aunt Mavis, reaching out to touch Tommy's cheeks. "Look at those beautiful eyes."

"The result of a brief affair," said Lacey. "His name is Tommy."

"Miss Chapman, we are exposed," said Coulson in a low voice. "I would suggest we go inside."

They entered the funeral chapel and were escorted to the family reflection room where her sister and brother were already seated. Her sister Nancy got up right away and tearfully embraced Lacey, then asked about Tommy, making a fuss over him. Her brother Terry was less friendly.

"So, after what, two and a half years you finally show your face?" he said, angrily. "Could you ever have told us where you were? How did you even know Mom had died?"

Coulson looked at her and shrugged slightly indicating it was her choice what she wanted to tell her family.

"You know Terry, if you had been a bit nicer to me and didn't have your entourage hanging around at Tom's funeral I could have told you what I was facing," she said. "But you had to play the big man and told me to stop being a selfish brat."

"So it's my fault you took off?" he snarled. "You always were immature, weren't you?"

Lacey took a deep breath. "The day after Tom died four Russian mobsters broke into the house looking for a flash drive that he had hidden," she said. "The flash drive contained the location of laundered money that a co-worker of Tom's tricked him into setting up an investment account for. Instead, he hid the money in a secret account and came to see me. He went to tell the FBI but as you know the Russians got to him first. The four that came to my house ..." Terry made a face. "...Grandpa's house that he left to me because I was the only one who was there for him the last two years before he died, were not in a mood to be polite. They were armed and willing to hurt me. I wasn't alone. Bucky Barnes, yes that Bucky Barnes, spent the night and he took on all four men, subduing them and tying them up. He told me to call the FBI and sell the house because they would come looking for me again. Tommy is Bucky's son and if HYDRA or the CIA find out about him they'll come for him. So I've been in hiding ever since, Terry. Not because I didn't want to contact you but because it was safer for me, for Tommy and for you both if I didn't. I don't even know why I came to the funeral, to be honest. Especially since it's obvious you haven't changed.  You're still the asshole you always were."

She glared at her brother, daring him to make a smart ass comment again, like he usually did. Her body was shaking as she struggled to keep herself from crying. Instead he stepped forward and enveloped her in his arms, which did made her cry which made Tommy cry. After several long moments, Terry stepped back and looked at his nephew then at his sister.

"You don't have to be scared of me, Tommy," he said emotionally. "I'm your Uncle Terry and I will protect you as much I can." He stroked Lacey's hair. "I'm so sorry. I was such an asshole then. As you can see there is no more entourage. I blew my knee out last year and the team released me this year. Officially, I'm an unemployed ex-football player with no actual skills to work in the real world. I had no right to treat you the way I did."

Nancy came forward and hugged Lacey again. "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you at Tom's funeral," she said. "We were all hurting so much and with you being the last one to see him alive it was easy to blame you even though you had nothing to do with it. It's our fault you left without a word. I'm just glad you're okay and that you have someone that means the world to you. He's beautiful, Lacey."

Nancy touched Tommy's cheek and he shyly smiled before laying his head onto Lacey's shoulder. The funeral director came in, advising that it was time to enter the chapel. Coulson and Daisy stood to the side, keeping their eyes on all entrances, while Lacey and her family took their places. It wasn't a long ceremony and when the siblings followed the coffin outside to enter the limousine Coulson advised Daisy to accompany the family while he and Mack followed in their car. The drive to the cemetery was quick and without incident. After the interment a line of people waited to hug the siblings. Coulson, Mack and Daisy all kept their eyes open when they noticed a vehicle enter the cemetery. It stopped some distance away but the driver's side window lowered and Daisy saw a telephoto lens appear. Immediately she went to Lacey, blocking the view to her, while Coulson and Mack approached the vehicle with their weapons drawn.

"Get in the car," she said urgently while she kept scanning the area for any more threats.

Lacey immediately complied, followed by her brother and sister. They all sat in the limousine wondering what to do next until Daisy looked inside to update them.

"Mack and Coulson are checking the guy out," she said. "They're holding his camera and Mack has pressed some buttons. Now they're coming back."

Coulson returned to the limousine and looked inside at the others.

"He was paid to get a picture of you and the baby, for an unknown client," he informed them. "Mack deleted the images. I think it's time you and the baby return to the safe house. I'm sorry to cut your reunion short. He's bringing our car up alongside this one."

Lacey turned to the other two apologetically. "I better go," she said. "I don't know when I'll see you again."

Nancy pulled out a card, wrote her phone number and email address down on it, then handed it to Terry for him to do the same. "If you find a safe way to contact me here's our information," she said. "I wish we had more time. I bought your book and I loved it. I hear it's doing really well and I'm so proud of you."

They hugged affectionately. Terry kneeled on the floor of the limousine and took Lacey's hand into his own.

"I meant what I said about protecting you two," he said emotionally. "If you ever need extra muscle wherever you're hiding let me know. Don't wait so long for the next visit. Take care little sister. I'll see you again little man."

He hugged Lacey hard and ruffled Tommy's hair. Mack pulled their car close and Lacey quickly transferred over. She looked out the rear window as the car pulled away from the limousine trying not to cry. Daisy held her hand the entire time.

"We're being followed," said Mack, just minutes later as he looked out his rear view mirror. "Two vehicles, tinted windows."

Coulson and Daisy both looked back. "Can you get on the expressway?" asked Coulson.

"Only if I double back," said Mack. "That could put them before and after us. I could try to shotgun a left turn up ahead."

"Do it," said Coulson. "Daisy, if we have to ...."

"I understand," she replied. "I'll be ready."

Mack pulled up to a stoplight with a regular left turn. As the traffic lined up in the opposite direction he kept his eye on the traffic light for the cross traffic. Just before that light turned red he spoke.

"Hold on," he warned, then he gunned the accelerator making the turn just as their light turned green.

The oncoming traffic beeped their horns but let him pass. They didn't let the next two vehicles turn and Mack accelerated turning onto another busy road that led to the expressway. He got on it, watching carefully behind him before leaving it several exits later and taking a roundabout way back to the safe house. They entered the underground parkade where Mack backed into a stall then stepped out with his gun drawn and checked the immediate area before giving the okay.

"Who were they?" asked Lacey as they exited the vehicle.

"Don't know," replied Mack tersely, "but I wasn't going to take any chances. They tried to shotgun with us so they were definitely following us."

Back safely in the penthouse Coulson made a phone call, presumably to Fury, to report about the photographer and the two cars following them. After hanging up he looked grimly at Lacey.

"Fury isn't happy about the two incidents," he said. "He's concerned whoever is trying to find you already knows about Tommy. It will delay any chance you have of living elsewhere."

"So back to the farm?" Lacey asked. "I'm okay with that. My family aren't in danger are they?"

"Probably not," replied Coulson, "but you won't be able to contact them through normal channels. They are going to put the photographer under surveillance and see if that leads them to who paid him. We'll also try to locate images of those two vehicles through traffic cam footage."

"Will it always be like this?" asked Lacey, as she watched Tommy approach Mack, who just looked sternly down at the boy.

"I would like to say no," replied Coulson, as he watched with her. "But he is unique, born a super soldier. That is worth a lot to the wrong people. HYDRA had their own aspirations to breed Winter Soldiers that failed miserably because their scientists didn't understand how fragile the reproductive system really is. The fact that Bucky Barnes was eventually able to father a child may have them scrambling, I think."

The next morning they made it to the airport without incident and Coulson accompanied Lacey on the quinjet flight back to the farm. Clint came out of the house as the aircraft landed and nodded at Coulson as he escorted Lacey and Tommy off.

"We had to leave the funeral at the interment," said Coulson. "A photographer tried to get a picture. Then we were followed by two vehicles."

"Well, she'll just have to stay with us," replied Clint, putting his arm around Lacey briefly. "She and Tommy are like family now so it's no hardship for us."

"You're a good man, Clint," said Coulson with a smile. "Miss Chapman, it has been a pleasure. You look after Tommy and yourself."

Lacey hugged him, which he accepted somewhat bashfully, then they watched the quinjet leave before going inside. There were worse places to raise a child but there weren't many that were better.  Clint had done a good job keeping the existence of this farm a secret.  Right from the time she arrived there Lacey had felt safe.  The prospect of living there indefinitely wasn't a problem.

Chapter 11>>

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[uzumaki-rebellion]

“The Offering” Part 2 of 3 (A Namor of Talokan Fic)

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Summary:

Lebadi has embarked on a two-year secret love affair with K'uk'ulkan on the high seas with a Wakandan houseboat she purchased for their clandestine hook-ups. All is well until their union is discovered.

NSFW. Smut. 18+. (6,254 words) Namor x Black Female OC

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"Baby, baby, baby… "

Evil Needle & Sivey—"Baby"

He liked to kneel before her and kiss her belly button first.

The indentation on her lower stomach seemed to be his activation button for Lebadi and she loved to stand over him, weaving her fingers into his soft black curls that crowned loosely around his scalp, still moist from the sea. The tip of his warm tongue dipped in and out and when he kissed the skin around her belly piercing, his dark brown eyes never left hers.

That was his way… always.

Touch. Kiss. Gaze up at her. Kiss again. Lick. Stare deep into her soul before sucking and tasting again, lowering his head to her sopping folds that plumped and bloomed open, revealing the sticky pink entrance to paradise. She learned over the two years of their forbidden courtship that he used those dark eyes to claim ownership of her. Every part of her. Cloying… fiery at times, and oh, so sensual, the sloe-eyed gaze of K'uk'ulkan demanded obedience. Submission.

She gave in.

The loss of will had her leasing a small houseboat in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Staying on the water was the only way to keep their liaison a secret from her world. He couldn't come on land without alarming her people, and she couldn't go down into his depths either, so they were forced to meet in the middle far off the Umkhombe Coast.

Anticipating his arrival was always the best part of their unions. She'd dance seductively on the deck, playing the erotic sounds of her favorite joot band, a style of Wakandan music that mixed instrumental sounds with dubbed vocalizations that played with the human voice in strange ways to evoke a hypnotic, romantic mood. Draped in a sheer azure cover-up with nothing else underneath except for a gold-hooped belly chain with matching bracelets on her wrists, Lebadi cranked up the swirling sounds and gyrated her hips with the syncopated rhythms. Tapping her bare feet on the deck with her arms dancing in the air, she snaked her body with sultry rolls of her hips to tease him from the sea.

Sipping on honey wine, she'd grab a handful of a mixture made from dried flower petals, spiced herbs, and brown sugar to rub against her shaved mound so that the scent of her juicy pussy was added. She called it her love offering and sprinkled it into the ocean, helping to entice his arrival sooner.

It always worked.

Humming and swiveling her loose hips, her eyes followed the line of the horizon illuminated by silver moonlight, waiting for the waters to part as her offering sank below the surface.

There!

A ripple breaking the tranquil ocean that grew into a wave rising to the starlight, his taut form bursting through a mountain of dark liquid, wings fluttering… behold… K'uk'ulkan. He flew high above Lebadi's line of sight, floating gently on a balmy breeze toward her, his dashing eyes never leaving her face.

Lebadi danced, twining her arms with slow sinuous motions that gestured for his company. When he landed next to her, she parted her sheer covering and fingered her folds, sharing glimpses of her wet arousal glistening like dew on a gossamer web across her fingertips.

"Namor…" she purred.

He closed his eyes and his nostrils flared, taking in the sweet odor of her swollen folds.

Down he went, on his knees, clasping desperate fingers on her graceful hips.

"In yaakunaj…" he murmured, sliding a fat wet tongue across her stomach before pushing his entire face into her pussy.

"Show me how much you love me, then," she replied with breathless abandon.

"Ch'ujuk," he whispered.

Sweet. That's what she tasted like to him. She kept that pussy sweet and delicious, like a ripe mango, eating plenty of fresh fruit and honey before traveling to see him.

Hot kisses slathered her clit with saliva and his mouth wasted very little time becoming reacquainted with what belonged to him. He sucked and licked her delicate parts, tracing wet silhouettes with an artful tongue tip. She gasped out loud, holding back her release until he told her she had permission to do so.

Standing up, Namor peeled off his skintight shorts, and she helped him unfasten his choker necklace. Tossing it on one of the bolted chairs set up for deep-sea fishing, he led her into the interior of the boat where the luxury stateroom awaited their in-depth union. He slid his fingers on the pearl clasps of her cover-up and pulled it off. Slanting his head to align his mouth with hers properly, his warm belly rested upright against hers, turning their bodies into writhing, serpentine creatures yearning to become one flesh… one being.

The interlocking of their tongues breathed life into her clit and it came alive between her thighs, thumping a staccato rhythm that made her pussy throb in anticipation for deep-rooted dick that would take her far beyond her stimulated senses.

Lebadi dropped to her knees and engulfed his thickening length into her greedy mouth, slurping his dick like it was the last bit of nourishment she would ever have between her full lips. Her neck worked his girth as it stretched her lascivious mouth, making her cheek and jaw muscles exhausted from handling such a thick erection. She made his dick shiny and licked around the head where pre-cum spilled all over her tongue. Namor tasted like the sea and promises of something smoky and rich that she couldn't get enough of. He threaded his fingers through her textured hair, twisting into the heavy locs securely before yanking her head back so her eyes stayed fixed on his face. Fisting his dick, he pressed it against her painted lush mouth, forcing her to lick away the spewing of clear arousal that had his lips twisted up with pleasure.

The man his people called K'uk'ulkan hated surface dwellers.

But he loved her.

The cognitive dissonance was never lost on Lebadi, even with all the libidinous, erotic things he did to her wanton body. She became a willing concubine under his magic touch. He was unpredictable. Dangerous. Irresistible. Their forbidden love was an addiction she couldn't be without. They were both from cultures that prided themselves on secrecy and discretion. Being practically invisible to the rest of mankind kept their people safe… and yet, they chose to be reckless with one another. It made their love illicit and delicious.

His fingers grazed against her cheek as a clap of thunder boomed above them.

"K'iibal cháak," he said. "The thunder… it will bring a strong rain."

"There was a ring around the moon. It won't rain until three days from now," she said.

He sniffed the air.

"Sáamal," he said.

Tomorrow. It would rain sooner than what the gauzy, reddish ring of light around the moon told her. Rain meant poor weather on the water, no lazy day of sunshine, and swimming with him in the open ocean.

He lifted her in his arms and placed her lovingly on the berth they would share. His dick pointed at her with a raging hardness that needed careful tending. She parted her thighs and used her fingers to push open her folds for him. The thick vein on the top of his erection showed the severity of his need. His slit wept pearls of pre-cum onto the berth. His regal bearing looked mystical in the low candlelight she had illuminating the quarters. He crawled onto the bedding and wedged himself between her legs. Gripping the heft of his dick securely, he twisted his fingers under the thick ridge of his frenulum and pushed the wide tip against her slick opening. Her pussy throbbed, letting him see the pink entrance wink open. The sight of it excited him more, and he held his slit closer to her as sizzling ropes of thick cum shot all over her, drenching her folds. It was so hot that she hissed with the intense feeling, wanting more. He gave it, cumming all over her clit, drowning it with a whiteness as creamy as icing on a cake. Namor groaned out loud and aimed his release toward her stomach, where warmer streaks painted her dark brown skin, pooling into her belly button before turning clear and messy all over.

Lebadi whimpered and played with his cum across her vulva. She spanked her glossy folds and Namor growled with pleasure deep inside his throat. Fingering her pussy, she licked his cum off of each fingertip like it was a sugary glaze. He dipped his finger into the sticky heat and traced it along her lips until she swallowed it all. Pushing her legs open wider, he parted the curtains of her inner lips and penetrated the deepest part of Lebadi, forcing the whimpers of happiness to ring in his ears, ushering a pleased smile to his face that lit up his eyes as well. He cradled the side of her neck and pulled out, swiftly thrusting back in again to make sure he hit her spot just right and she clawed his back to let him know he made it.

Linking her ankles around his waist, she panted as he stroked her walls, seeking new pleasure points to rub against, plucking out heavy moans from her mouth. At one point, she couldn't even close her lips, the delicious tugging against her clit weakening her hold on his shoulders. Arching her back, she sought his right earlobe and bit the pointed tip that was so sensitive to the touch. Namor groaned and pistoned his hips faster, the soft wavy pubic hairs of his groin mingling with hers until everything was frothy and wet with sweat and her slickness. The friction caused her to pee a little from the pressure inside and out, but her lover didn't care. He accepted all offerings from her body, everything became lubrication and a sign that he was putting in the necessary work to please her.

The churning water outside couldn't create more waves like the ones he made between the joining of her thighs, fucking her until she was cross-eyed and the cultivated coils in her thick hair flattened. His lips tilted up at the corners like a crescent moon then, pleased with her breathy sighs and pleadings for more until a strange shadow clouded his dark eyes. He stared at her primrose pink opening surrounded by the rich raven brown of her vulva, adoring the contrast of colors her body created compared to his sun-drenched sienna brown. Licking the pebbled nipples on her breasts, Namor thrust forward and cried out her name, his orgasm transforming his face into such sublime beauty that Lebadi wept under him, breaking apart all over his sturdy length.

His warm sweat fell onto her and cooled within seconds. He stayed inside of her pussy, filling it with more cum until he was satisfied that she was sated from clenching all over him.

Namor rested his head on her breasts. His breathing became soft as she fingered his hair. They fell asleep together just as light raindrops fell outside, making a gentle patter on the houseboat's roof. Both of them had been wrong in predicting the weather. No matter, though. Their entangled bodies basked in the afterglow of lovemaking.

The rain splattered harder on the roof.

Lebadi woke up with Namor still asleep on her chest, looking all serene and cozy while she listened to the rainfall outside. The houseboat rocked on the water and she wondered if they should move more inland to avoid larger waves.

His body had cooled on top of hers, and she reached for a thin blanket to cover them.

She stopped.

They weren't alone.

The shadow of a person stood across from them in the stateroom. The candles had burned out, and the moon had shifted its position in the sky, making it difficult to see who watched the forbidden lovers sleep. Lebadi shook Namor awake and his senses went into overdrive immediately. He rose from the berth, blocking her body from the intruder.

"Ba'ax ka beetik?" said a muffled woman's voice in Namor's language.

Namor picked up a small lighter and held it against the wick of a large yellow candle resting on a small wooden dresser. He spoke to the woman with an irritated tone.

"Táan in chan weele'—"

"Jach u yoojel tuus," the woman replied.

Namor flung a dismissive wave of his hand to the stranger and she lunged for him, coming into the light. Most of her face was covered with what looked like a green and blue turtle shell. Her skin was a pale blue color, too, a sharp contrast to the dark wet hair that hung past her shoulders. She had eyes like Namor's. Intense and angry.

"Ko'x!" the woman shouted, grabbing Namor's arm.

He shoved her back and Lebadi jumped out of the berth, grabbing for a pair of panties and a tank top lying across a chair.

"Is this your wife?!" Lebadi screamed, more embarrassed than angry.

Namor lowered his head before shaking it.

"She is not my wife… eetbak'el… same family… my cousin. Namora."

Namora tilted her head and stared at Lebadi with narrowed eyes. Her voice sounded guttural and mean.

"Bix a k'aaba teech?" Namora spat out.

"Do not answer her," Namor said.

Lebadi held her own name on her tongue as Namor commanded. Namora took a closer step, and she moved behind Namor for protection.

"I can't tell you my name," Lebadi said.

"Ma' tu na'tik," Namor said.

"She doesn't understand for real, or are you just saying that to fool me?" Lebadi asked.

Namor grabbed Namora's arm and pulled her outside onto the open deck while still naked, sliding the door shut behind him. Lebadi waited on the berth and listened to them argue. Their passionate voices raged with loud aggression for over an hour. When silence prevailed, she opened the door and stepped out to check on him. The rain had tapered down to a light drizzle, despite the grouping of menacing gray clouds at least a mile away in the sky.

Namora sat on one of the fishing chairs and Namor sat next to her on the other one. Lebadi reached into a cooler near the sliding door and pulled out two bottled waters. She handed one to Namora.

"Uk'ahech? A k'át uk'ul?" Lebadi asked, hoping she pronounced the words 'thirsty' and 'drink' correctly without starting a war of words between the cousins again.

Namora shook her head and waved her hand.

"She can only drink underwater. She can't breathe up here," Namor said.

"Oh," Lebadi said.

She put the bottles back in the cooler and stood near Namor.

"Is everything okay? Why is she so upset?" Lebadi said.

Namor reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. Namora jerked her head away as if the show of affection disgusted her.

"What is going on?" Lebadi asked.

Namora reached for a reed-thin necklace that looked like it was made from an abalone shell. She blew on it, but no sound came out that Lebadi could hear. His cousin dashed from the chair, leaping onto the upper edge of the vessel with her arms bowed to dive into the cold depths. Namor flew so fast that he caught Namora in mid-air before she even touched a curling whitecap. The wings on his ankles carried them high above the houseboat. Lebadi watched Namora struggle in Namor's powerful grip.

In the water, a blast of air from a blowhole caught her attention. An orca with a massive dorsal fin circled the houseboat as the Talokanil fought above it. Namor dropped Namora into the ocean with a loud splash and the orca swam to her.

"Namora!" Namor shouted down to her.

Namora threw one arm around the dorsal fin and pointed at her cousin with the other.

"Sáamal!" Namora shouted and the orca dove under a wave, allowing the sea to swallow them up.

A crack of thunder boomed, and bright swords of lightning clashed together, brightening up the sky, and transforming her lover into a deity lost to the world floating above her. Lebadi rubbed her arms as a fresh shower of rain poured down. Shaking her damp hair, she returned to the stateroom and changed into a warm robe. She used a towel to dry her tresses that clumped up into tight spongy curls. Namor met her in the small kitchenette and watched her make a fresh cup of ground Jabari Mountain coffee. She offered him some, but he turned her down, studying her face for a long time.

"Why did she come here? And why did she mention tomorrow?" Lebadi asked.

"She has seen me like this before."

"Like what?"

"In love."

Lebadi mixed sugar in with her coffee and sipped it with her back against the stove.

"So I'm not your first surface dweller girlfriend?"

"You are."

"Have you been married? Have children?"

"You never asked me things like that before."

"Because this has been a fun fantasy while we were alone. Someone knows about us now… and I realize we are really strangers. Fuck buddies."

Namor slid his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his, sliding his tongue out before they connected. He sucked on her probing tongue and did the same to her lips, forcing waves to tumble in her stomach. His kisses were always slow and demanding. The man knew her weakness with him. She pushed him back.

"I want to know more about you, Namor. Will we just hook up on the ocean every three months when you make time for me?"

"We are not what you say… fuck buddies."

"Answer my question. Have you ever been married?"

"I have."

"What happened?"

"She died."

"Did you have children with her?"

"I did. They died too."

"How?"

"They grew old and died."

Lebadi blinked her eyes a few times and tilted her head as if that made the understanding easier.

"What do you mean? How old were they?"

He moved away from her and lowered his head, contemplating his answer.

"Namor?" she said.

"My wife lived to be ninety-eight. My daughter eighty-one… and my son… seventy-nine."

"I don't understand, you… you're close to my age. How do you have children older than you?"

"Lebadi… I have lived for nearly five centuries."

Lebadi laughed and threw up her hands, turning away from the bullshit. A warm hand slid up her thin robe and held her shoulder. Namor turned her to face him.

"I am telling you the truth—"

"You told me you were a mutant. That explained the wings and your other abilities… but now you're an immortal?"

"How do you think I know your language and so many others? There was a time when your people were not so secretive."

His eyes challenged her to doubt him. She couldn't. He could fly. Breathe underwater. Had the strength of many men, and could summon creatures from the deep.

"My people named me after an ancient god. They believe I am the return of him and I have cared for them like they were my very own children. I have lived many lifetimes under the deepest parts of the sea and lost more than one family. Colonizers have brought pestilence to my people… stolen land… destroyed so much. They continue to do so, all over the world-"

"If you hate surface dwellers so much, why come to me? You could've left me alone after that first time we met."

"I could not forget you… could not keep you from my mind. Your people are like my own. They want nothing to do with the outside world, and that makes you different."

"What are saying? You want to live a lifetime with me, too?"

Lebadi held her breath inside her chest. She curled her hands between her breasts and Namor cuddled her in his arms, peppering her face with tiny kisses.

"Namora is angry because she doesn't want me to hurt anymore. She has been alive long enough to know my last wife and the pain it caused me to lose her. After my first wife passed, I stopped having children. I had two more wives after her, and I made a vow to take care of my people and never have a woman again. Until you. My love for you clouds my eyes every day that I am by your side," he said.

Lebadi's eyes welled up, and he kissed away the tears that dropped like rain onto her cheeks.

"You are worth the pain… teech k'abéet ti'teen—"

"I need you too, but this is so much to take in all at once," she said.

"Tell me you love me."

She pressed her forehead against his.

"In k'áatech," she whispered into his parted lips.

The edges of his mouth ticked up into a smile, and he spanked her backside, making it jiggle. He rubbed on her bottom, lifting and separating the round mounds in his hands, squeezing them to enjoy the softness.

"Take this off," he said, fingering the top of the robe.

She undid the belt, and he circled her waist, lifting her up on her toes, his warm naked body evaporating the rain from his skin as it absorbed her heat too.

"Namor, what happens tomorrow?" she said.

"Namora will come back."

"For what?"

He walked her backward on her toes toward the stateroom. She pressed down on her heels to stop him.

"I don't want to talk about that now. Let me love you, Lebadi… your skin is like honey in my mouth, I want to lick all over your body…"

He nuzzled the side of her neck where fleshy immortal lips sucked and kissed chills down her spine and into her toes.

"Let me love you," he said.

She gave in, as he knew she would.

His morning loving was as good as his nighttime lust.

With her head down and her ass up in the air, he took her with long strokes from the back as she rested her head on a pillow at an angle where she could watch his face. His lips quirked up with tension and his right palm pressed down into her lower back. Her pussy squelched and became a gushy ride. Namor slapped her rump hard and used his right hand to palm her left ass cheek as he glared down at her throwing it back on him with frisky twists of her waist. He glanced at her face as if to question what right she had to have a pussy that good on his dick. She arched her back further, and he cursed at her with words that were too filthy for him to translate into Wakandan.

"Fuck me…" he panted.

"I know you like that," she grunted, shifting her hips and widening her thighs to let him sink deeper.

His fingers slid to her hips, and he gripped the supple flesh to anchor himself. He gave quick thrusts that just rested at the entrance of her pussy and she pouted, needing all of his thickness to make her feel full and stretched. Her toes lifted and teased the feathers on his ankles at the quill, which was highly sensitive to touch like the tips of his ears, stimulating another part of his erogenous zones that she liked to play with on his body.

"Fuck my pussy… s'good baby…," Lebadi moaned as she bit into the twisted, sweaty sheets.

Namor teased her entrance until she whimpered his name and he plunged into her, cumming while he did. He drenched her walls, then pulled his fat dick back out and ejaculated onto her ass and back before stretching her out again. His cum painted her walls with creamy warmth. He reached around and played with her clit, two of his fingers strumming a love language that only her stimulated nerves could translate. It was enough of a conversation to have her walls throb back with an answer. She squealed with pleasure and he laughed with obvious delight.

Afterward, they went for a swim.

The sky had cleared up enough to let a few rays of sunshine peek through. He dived below with fish netting and left her alone on the boat for an hour, returning with swordfish, shrimp, and mussels for them to enjoy at lunch. He cleaned and prepared the seafood. She seasoned and cooked it. They ate with their fingers and she showed him how to eat sticky yellow rice balls with a soft fermented flatbread that she made the day before. Namor liked the sour, porous texture of the bread, stuffing it down his throat with the fish tea she made from the swordfish.

Later in the afternoon, they moved the houseboat to another area when the water became choppy and unpleasant. Sleeping nude on lounge chairs, Namor watched her skin darken into a rich mahogany hue. He made her lay on top of him so he could run his hands all across her back and ass, fingering her pussy from behind until she came all over his hand with a sticky release.

Lebadi took a nap inside the stateroom for a few hours. She needed to recharge from a day of lovemaking and eating well. Waking up alone, she found several loose mothers of pearls wrapped in a large seaweed leaf fresh from deep sea oysters. Smelling the odor of good cooking, she rose naked and joined Namor in the kitchenette. He stirred a thin soup of clam meat that she liked for dinner. Holding up a spoon for her, she tasted it.

"Good… ooh, and hot," she said, waving her hand in front of her open mouth to cool the soup on her tongue.

The sun was low in the sky, announcing a gorgeous sunset that saturated the ocean backdrop with blazing red and deep mauve.

"Oh, shit!" she said, rushing back to the stateroom and changing into a short azure blue tunic over a bikini bottom. She dug into one of her travel bags soon after.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She strode back into the kitchen, clutching a small sachet of her annual offering to Mama Wati. Bypassing the beach and surfing with friends again in Birnin S'Yan that year, she wanted to honor the mother of the sea with Namor by her side.

"Come," she enthused, tugging on his hand to follow her.

Lebadi prayed over the small bundle before untying it and dropping some of the mixture into the sea. She gave the rest to Namor, and he sprinkled it with amusement.

"This god brings you joy?" he asked.

"She does."

He touched her hair, which had shrunk up into tightly coiled spirals from the seawater. She twirled a thick lock of hair and stretched out its length, letting it bounce back into place.

"Children in Wakanda who are born with extra curly hair, like me, are said to be children of the sea. My grandmother was a child of the sea, and so was her grandmother before her. I come from a long line of Mama Wati babies!"

Namor leaned over and kissed her cheek, then held her face with both hands to kiss her longer. She was about to wrap her arms around the nape of his neck when the houseboat listed to one side, knocking them off balance. Namor flew with her a few feet above the deck to keep her from falling. The surge of water lifted the boat and brought it back down roughly, and from Namor's arms, Lebadi witnessed a pod of humpback whales breach the surface and rock the houseboat even more.

"K'uk'ulkan!"

Namora called to him as she pulled herself up onto the back of the closest whale. Namor put Lebadi back on the houseboat and two tall Talokanil men climbed onto the boat, giving her menacing looks. Namor barked orders to them and the men stopped moving, watching their god fly onto a whale to confront Namora. There was no reasoning with Namora and she leaped onto the boat and grabbed Lebadi by the throat, tossing her far over the side. The icy splash punched into Lebadi's back as the dark waters covered her face. She held her breath, watching the light from the surface fade from dark blue to rising ebony the deeper she went down. Flailing her arms, she tried to swim back to the surface, her lung capacity helped by her years of surfing and having giant waves crash over her before she could get more air. Her loose tunic floated above her, tangling her arms and covering her face. She pulled it off and pushed her arms to her sides, swiping away the weight of water crushing her.

Kicking her legs, Lebadi's ascent was thwarted by another Talokanil woman below her, who grabbed her ankle and dragged her further below. Seconds later, Namora was upon her, her hands choking the life out of Lebadi. Bubbles rose out of her mouth and she became woozy from the lack of oxygen in her lungs. She almost blacked out to the haunting, melodious sounds of whale song, until Namor fought off his cousin and the other woman to drag her away. Lebadi noticed a great number of his people holding spears and hugged up close to the whales, using them as living ships to travel on.

Namor burst through a wave and flew Lebadi to the houseboat. The rage on his face frightened her and he screamed at his people. Most stood on top of the whales wearing the same breathing apparatus Namora had to use above the surface.

Namor pulled Lebadi behind him and faced his people. Rapid-fire conversations ricocheted around them as she tried to pick out any words that she knew from being with Namor. It was clear to her that the posse revered him even as they pressed to retrieve him, but his actions upset them. She upset them by claiming his heart.

Namora had a pleading quality to her voice, and it softened Namor. He kept glancing back at Lebadi, and the longer his people spoke to him, she could see his body language changing. His shoulders slumped, and a light went out of his eyes. The voices grew louder, more incessant, and Namor threw his head back as if the stars above them had all the answers he needed. Then… they started singing to him.

Even the whales emitted sounds that Lebadi could feel flowing across her skin above the surface. The haunting melodies of the Talokanil mixed with the vibrations of the sea creatures they rode upon brought Lebadi to her knees. She wept from the pure beauty of it.

Namor looked down at her with a torn expression. Namora climbed back onto the boat and held her hands before him like the wide maw of a shark about to attack. The others made the same hand symbol toward him.

"Líik'ik Talokan!" Namora said.

Namor closed his eyes and Lebadi felt a trembling soul shift inside of him. Namora nodded her head and the other Talokanil on the houseboat dropped back down into the water. Namor sauntered over to Namora and held her face. Only their eyes spoke in a secret language they knew. He stroked his thumb across Namora's forehead and slowly flew up into the sky alone, raising out his arms.

One by one, the whales and the sea dwellers departed.

Namor came back to her side, and she knew.

It was over.

His people came first and she would become a lost footnote to the seductive antics of a foreign god who wanted to fuck a Wakandan woman for fun.

She ran from him, hot tears spilling in fat drops onto her arms as she wailed and beat her fists on the berth. He tried to comfort her, but she thrashed her body to get his hands off of her.

"Get out!" she shouted, burying her wet face. Snot and copious tears clogged up her nose and throat.

He wouldn't leave her side and stroked her back.

"You said I was worth the pain!"

"They are my children."

"I am your woman! They can have you forever, but I only get this one lifetime, Namor! Just this one!"

He pushed back the springy curls on her forehead. His soulful eyes bled into her spirit and she covered her face to hide all the pain that soaked her heart. Namor spooned around her and she wilted. Crying and pleading meant nothing. His duty to his own came first. Always.

They slept curled into one another. By daybreak, he was gone.

Lebadi ate leftover shrimp and rice for breakfast and tossed all the uneaten food into the sea. She started the quiet engine of the houseboat and programmed it to take her back to the Wakandan coast, where she would leave it at the marina rental space she kept for the past two years. Leaving the seaside was the best thing for her sanity.

Returning inland for good would help her forget.

Lebadi couldn't believe the message on her kimoyo beads.

Her former college roommate, Okoye, stared at her.

"Well, did you make it or not?" Okoye said.

Sitting inside an artsy café together, a table full of half-eaten shredded beef and coconut curried rice between them, Lebadi stared at the formal rejection of her application to the Dora Milaje corps.

"I was rejected," Lebadi said.

"Why?"

Okoye's voice went up an octave as she swiped the floating image of the document.

"I failed the physical apparently," Lebadi said.

"How? You seem fit to me… wait… what is that look for? Did you already know you would fail?"

"Not when I applied, but…"

"But what?"

Okoye nudged her wrist with her hand.

"Talk to me, Lebadi. We were supposed to tag-team in this thing."

"I know," Lebadi said. "I just failed. You'll have to become a Dora without me."

"Rhino shit! You always wanted this. We went to school purposely cultivating our education to prepare us. You did an internship in the palace for Bast's sake!"

Okoye lifted a finger to her lips.

"Call them and ask what happened. They have to give you specifics."

"No, they don't. I'm not qualified. I'll find something else to do."

"Like what?"

"I can be an executive assistant to a senator, or maybe a personal assistant to a Council Elder," Lebadi said.

Okoye's kimoyo beads glowed a neon blue.

"Dammit, I have to go. I'm picking up W'Kabi from his mother's house. His hovercraft was fixed at the shop finally."

"When is he going to buy proper transportation? He's had that hovercraft since he was in high school."

"You know how stubborn he is. He'll have that thing until he's an old man," Okoye joked.

She touched Lebadi's hand again.

"Do you want to go out for drinks later? Talk some more? I feel terrible about this news."

"No, go on and spend your evening with W'Kabi. I'll call you later if I find out anything more."

Lebadi didn't bother to stand up. She let Okoye bend over and kiss her temple before she dashed out to give the love of her life a ride to the bike shop. When Okoye was out of the café, Lebadi tapped her kimoyo again and swiped the second page of the form letter for the Dora Milaje corps. There was a listing of categories that could be checked off to explain why a candidate was rejected. The one that prevented her from becoming a Dora Milaje for that recruitment cycle was smack dab in the middle of the page.

Pregnancy.

Lebadi sighed and paid for the food by swiping her kimoyo beads over the dishes and stood up. The thick-layered skirt and jacket she had on barely concealed the baby bump sprouting from her middle. Four months along and she was already showing. Fatter in the face, too.

Walking alone in the downtown area of Birnin Zana, she turned her head to look over at the double palace. Okoye would get through Dora Milaje training easily. Her father was a lieutenant in the military and a decorated pilot. It didn't hurt that her mother was an interpreter for King T'Chaka Udaku either. The dream was for Okoye and Lebadi to protect royalty and travel with the king. She rubbed her belly and sighed. There were plans in place for her to live secluded in Birnin S'Yan and work discreetly as a monorail operator until the baby was born. No one knew she was carrying the seed of a foreigner, a mutant king who once said he loved her, but left her anyway. They had been careless with sex, and now she faced a daunting future.

What kind of child did he put inside of her?

Part 3 Finale HERE!

A.N.:

There will be a part 3! I’m working on several fics at once so be ready! And once I fnally see “Wakanda Forever” y’all in trouble!!!

Reminder:  I switched up the spelling of the actual Mami Wata to Mama Wati to give myself space to reshape my ancestor’s actual African/African Diaspora spiritual water being into a fictional Wakandan one.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 8

Warnings: None. (Will however be a 18+ reader book)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

"Beach wedding?" T'Challa questioned. "That sounds pleasant, although for you to become part of the Wakandan royalty through marriage, we'll have to do a separate special ceremony. It won't disrupt or affect the marriage bond though, so there's nothing to worry about with that."

The idea of being a Queen was still rather frightening to you.

"Beach wedding, beach wedding." Fury was singing underneath his breath with a slight wiggle of his hips. Well, he was extremely excited about the idea. Apparently he loved the beach so much, the ship that he was visiting with had a simulation so he could pretend he was at the beach.

Your sister bounded into the room, "You're on the news again Y/N!"

You shrunk into the couch you were sitting on. It had been six months since the incident. You had gotten comfortable with every person that you were soulmated to, along with their friends. Your own friends were absolutely enthralled with the idea. All three of them were invited to the wedding as well.

Once the news had gotten ahold that one, the Avengers were finally getting married, and two, it was to the girl in the record book who had eleven bonds, well the news had been covering it for almost three weeks now.

You had quit your job at this point. There was no reason to keep it. Tony kept everything you could possibly needed in the room and if you really, really needed something, he had a special card that you were supposed to use.

You very rarely spent the card. Even if Tony was a billionaire, you weren't entirely okay with spending his money if you really didn't need something.

Tony's voice brought you back to the conversation, "I was thinking that we could move into a large mansion instead of trying to continue to live in the Tower. Especially once we have kids. It would be easier to live in a house instead."

"I agree." Steve said with a nod.

"If it's far from civilization." Fury pointed out.

"Can we move back to the topic of those kids?" You asked.

Everyone looked at you.

"It's just. . . with the kids, are you guys going to care if like. . . you don't have one that isn't biologically yours? Or do you all want one that is yours or. . ." You asked.

"I don't care whose they are." Steve said with a shrug. "I'll raise all of them as my own."

Everyone agreed with that sentiment except for T'Challa. "I agree with that," He started, "However, the King of Wakanda still has to produce an heir. I hope you understand."

You nod. "Yes, of course."

T'Challa seemed relieved that you agreed so readily.

Preparations then moved forward for the wedding. Wanda invited her brother Pietro, since he would be consider family with the rest of us. Thor was inviting someone named 'Rocket' and his 'clan' who were called the Guardians of the Galaxy.

You met Agent Coulson, who was a very nice man. He, Fury, and Hill all did really seemed to get along well.

Loki and Thor were inviting a few people from New Asgard. (pretending they never died) Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, Heimdall, and Valkyrie. Also someone people named Korg and Miek.

Clint was inviting his sister Laura and her soulmate and their kids. Sam invited his sister.

You were sure that there would be more than family there, but the biggest question for you was whether or not you invited your father to the ceremony.

You didn't think he'd cause any trouble, but at the same time, it had been a few years since you had last seen him.

"Let's go for a walk." Clint said enthusiastically.

You quickly leaped from the couch to take his hand, leaving the others behind, Sam and T'Challa being the only ones that went with you two.

It was a sunny day out and the three of you strolled across the well tended lawn of Avenger Tower.

"How overboard do you think Tony will go with the house?" You questioned.

Clint snickered, "You should see the house he got for him and Stephen. And that one is just for the two of them."

"I just don't like the idea of him spending to much money, you know?" You said.

"That's how Tony shows he cares. He does it in gifts." Clint explained. "He built Pepper an Iron Woman suit when her and Happy got married. He gave Nat and Bruce a house, smaller by Stephen's standards, but it's nice sized when they got married. Wanda and Vision got a flat in Paris."

You nodded, a little overwhelmed.

Sam lifted you up on his shoulders. "Anyways, I was thinking about kids."

"Me too." You said. "I'm hoping that everyone looks at them as their own."

"I'm sure we will." Clint said, sounding nonchalant about it. "After all, we're all your soulmate. After the bonding ceremony, we'll all be connected. We should expect that to be in our children too. Besides, it's not like you're going to have eleven children, even if we all wanted our own kid."

You laughed, "Yeah, eleven kids is ridiculous."

"Although, it does sound fun." T'Challa admitted. "A huge house, lots of kids running around cheerfully."

"I think at least. . . what, four or five?" Clint asked. "Maybe six. I guess it would depend on how many attempts it takes for you to get your heir."

"I do feel bad about that." T'Challa said quietly. "Unfortunately, Wakandan customs can't be avoided."

"It's alright." You said, resting your chin on the top of Sam's head. "I don't really mind. I'm actually kind've excited to start our family life together. Although the marriage bonding ceremony will probably be exhausting."

Clint chuckled, "Probably."

The marriage bonding was, well, sex. Except you had to bond with all of your soulmates in one night. Which meant eleven orgasms in one night. One from each of them, eleven from you. And you were a Virgin (as most were) so it would certainly be a no walking day the day after.

"Have you decided on whether or not you want to ask your dad to the wedding?" Sam asked up to me.

You shook your head, your chin scratching on the top of his head. "No. I mean, my sister is going to be there and that's really all the family I need. But at the same time, I don't know. Maybe he should be there. I just don't know how Y/S/N would feel about him being there either."

Once you guys had made it down to the pond, you climbed off Sam's shoulders to take off your shoes and socks to dip your feet in. Clint had already done so and Sam was getting ready.

"Scared of water kitty kat?" Sam teased as T'Challa simply stood behind you, your back against his legs.

T'Challa chuckled dangerously. "Cats eat birds little Falcon."

You giggled at their friendly bantering.

"What colour suits are you guys thinking about?" Clint asked sincerely.

"Matching our soulmate bonds." T'Challa said.

You giggled again, "Does that mean Sammy is wearing pink?"

"Oi, brown is a part of that. Pink and brown." Sam pointed out.

"Hey, you're the one that pink is your favorite colour." Clint pointed out as Sam got defensive.

"I can see it." You said, reaching over to touch Sam's shoulder. "One of those crisp pink dress shirts with a brown suit jacket and brown dress pants. Maybe even coffee brown dress shoes. You'll look rather dashing."

"Ooh, you hear that boys. I'm gonna be dashing." Sam grinned.

Clint grinned before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. "This is going to be fun."

***

"Y/N, this is Pietro, Pietro, this is Y/N." Tony did the very quick introduction to Wanda's brother.

He looked nothing like Wanda. His eyes were blue, his hair dark before it turned blond. It was wavy and short. He had faint stubble and a facial do like Stephen's, which showed that brown was his natural hair colour. He was a bit taller than Wanda, on the lean and muscular side.

He held his hand out, "Nice to meet you."

His voice was quiet, heavily accented with the Sokovian lilt like Wanda's.

"Likewise." You said.

"Do you have a superpower?" He questioned as the two of you dropped hands.

"She's hits peoples with umbrellas." Tony answered for you, receiving an elbow to the kidneys.

"No." You said, rolling your eyes. "Ignore him."

Pietro grinned. I spent most of the day with him, Wanda, and Clint talking. He told us about how he had met someone named Makkari and they'd had several races, though they weren't sure who was faster.

"Don't suppose you know someone with an Aqua and gold soulmate mark, would you? Or a blue and silver one? Or, this one is strange but it's yellow, red, green, blue, and black." Pietro asked.

You shook your head, "Sorry."

He shrugged, "Oh well, they're out there."

"Maybe you just need to run into the King of Wakanda and go apologize to him." Clint smirked.

You rolled your eyes. "How was I to know he was the King of Wakanda? What was the King of Wakanda even doing in a low part of New York? Not my fault I didn't do a proper apology right then and there."

"Well I'm glad you didn't." T'Challa's voice sounded behind me. He had me sit up so that he could behind me, pulling me flush against his chest. "Cause now we're here."

"Very true." You said, tilting your head back and he pecked your lips sweetly.

"Ew." Clint said like a child before winking at you. You flipped him off.

"I'm sure it's equally ew when she kisses you." T'Challa said, resting his chin on your head.

Clint smirked, "I'm excellent kisser, thank you very much."

Wanda rolled her eyes, "They are constantly comparing themselves."

Pietro shrugged, "Typical male species."

You giggled.

Later that night, dinner was a rather chaotic affair. Tony had doordashed a bunch of food from Panda Express, Larosas, Auntie Annes, Greaters, Papa Johns, and Applebees. This resulted in a large buffet of food while everyone settled in the living room with the first season of Bones on.

Loki and Coulson sat as far apart as the room allowed. Valkyrie sat with him. Fury and Maria sat with Coulson. Tony, Stephen, Rhodey, and a man named Wong were sitting around the coffee table. Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, Bruce, and Natasha were sitting on or against the couch. T'Challa, Shur, Okoye, and a few of the other Wakandans he had invited were sitting at the dining room table instead in the adjoining room. Thor was standing around with Volstagg, Hogun, Sif, and Fandral.

Peter was there was well, with his Aunt May, Pepper, and Happy, though only Ned could make it as MJ had some sort of job thing.

Y/S/N was there with Y/S/BF/N, though they were more out of place than the others. Vision, Wanda, and Pietro were talking to them.

And then there were Guardians. There was Peter Quil, also known as Starlord, with his soulmate Gamora and their daughter Nikki. Nebula, who scared you just a little. Drax and Mantis, who were soulmates. Rocket turned out to be a raccoon (maybe?) along with a tree named Groot. There was also a man named Kraglin who had an arrow tucked into his belt.

It was funny. Kraglin seemed almost terrified of Nebula, yet they were soulmates.

Also, it turned out that Gamora and Nebula were both the adopted daughters of Thanos so that just made them a little scarier.

Thor very happily greeted the raccoon and the tree. You could sense some sort of male prideship fight between him and Peter.

Peter Parker greeted Peter Quil. You assumed they were friends.

All in all, it was a very crowded room. And they would all be here for another two months until the wedding preparations were put into plans.

Of course, there were still some people missing according to Fury. Someone named Captain Marvel. You knew she was the one that had snapped the glove to kill Thanos.

Scott and Hope were over in California, visiting Scott's daughter Cassie.

You took your own plate, looking for a place to sit. Stephen motioned to you and you moved to sit between the space that Tony made for you between the two of them. Tony's hand immediately found it's way to your thigh while Stephen held your hand under the table.

You were so busy observing the new comers in the room, you didn't even realize that Tony had asked you a question.

"Sweetheart?" He said and you snapped your head towards him.

"Sorry, what was the question?" You asked quickly.

"Some of your favorite things to do."

"I love camping." You said immediately. "I had a friend when I was young who was in boy scouts and I went on all the camping trips with them and his family. My favorite spot was either at Mammoth Caves, Wright Patterson Airforce base, or Hueston Woods."

Tony seemed surprised, "Camping? Really?"

"Oh yeah. Now that I think about it, Mammoth caves was really my favorite. We stayed on the campground and then we got to explore the caves in tours. It was a lot of fun." You smiled as you thought about all of the memories you had.

"Caves huh?" Tony said, seeming a little pale.

"Yeah." You nodded, "There's a specific tour that we always did whenever we did. I don't remember the name off the top of my head but it took you through something called Fat Man's Misery, which was this tight spot in the cave. But it's not a good tour if you're afraid of the dark or tight spaces."

"Duly noted." Tony said.

The night passed in soft touches between the two of them, funny conversations provided by the Guardians about space, and quick bantering between Loki, Thor, T'Challa, and Sam.

Everything was really starting to feel like home.

⬅️➡️

[xblackreader]

CASTING MY OC’s: Tadeas 🦏 and Xyanza 🔱 + LORE

The Children of Okoye of Wakanda and Attuma of Talokan

+ bonus: Nashuri’s Daughter - Itzia

Tadeas - The Rhino 🦏

He was a sweet sensitive and shy boy growing up, he was very in tune with people’s emotions and how they felt. But unfortunately his parents could not shield him from the violence of the real world. When he was around 8 years old, he was out playing with the rhinos (his mother often commented how close he was to them and his father said they would be his wayob or ‘chosen animal’)

He went following the rhinos, further than he should’ve been, and witnessed a poacher group of elephant and rhino hunters. They saw him and decided to try and shoot him, they wanted ‘no witnesses’ and thought “some young African kid, just get rid of him”, his favorite rhino shielded him from the bullet and died there, roaring for Tadeas to run for his life. Tadeas ran for his father and when they went back, Attuma killed the poachers and reported it to Queen Shuri. But Tadeas was forever changed. It changed his worldview. His family gave the rhino a hero’s burial and Okoye comforted her son but noticed he did not cry anymore. He was numb. She cried to Attuma that night bc while her child was safe, those poachers had taken her innocent son. And she feared she might never see him again.

After that Tadeas focused mostly on training and feeding his rhinos. His father saw how quiet his son was these days and wanted to do something, his daughter Xyanza suggested they take him to Talokan for the first time. See, Tadeas was unable to breathe underwater. he has no gills and so he had not yet been to Talokan even at 9 years old. Though Xyanza didn’t quite see why not, she didn’t understand why she and Baba went to Talokan often but not Mama or Tadeas.

So they brought him to Talokan, and told him to stay in his room overlooking the city, glass panels giving him and other visiting Wakandans the ability to see over the city. At first he did stay put, but Xyanza said “You’re still sad… how about I sneak you out and we can go play a game with the other children!” Not knowing that normal humans will die underwater bc of the dense atmosphere. Awful idea but she was only 9.

His sister held his hand and Tadeas was able to go into the depths of Talokan. They snuck him a breathing mask and the other children of Talokan showed him lots of places, he wasn’t as good of a swimmer and they had to hold his hand, but he fell in love with Talokan. He finally smiled for the first time in months looking out at the kingdom and Xyanza was proud she had been able to make him happy again.

Meanwhile, Okoye comes back to the room to entertain her son and call for her daughter only to find that they are both gone. Under normal circumstances she would’ve been calm and okay, but she was pregnant again and had already been hesitant to bring Tadeas so deep under the surface. She screamed for her husband and Attuma came running.

They sent a search party to find the children. Namor, Namora and Attuma went themselves to look from them and found them atop a steep cliff on a trench. Attuma raced toward his son and enveloped him in a hug while the other Talokanil surrounded Tadeas like “YOURE NOT WEARING A SUIT… HOW ARE YOU ALIVE????”

So they bring him back to the Talokan Palace and he is scolded by his mother who is in tears and Xyanza is given a stern talking to, but she didn’t understand he could’ve died. Tadeas is unremorseful however, he has tears in his eyes as he tells everyone how wonderful Talokan is! Shuri does a few tests and discovers that although he is not able to breath water, he still is immune to the depths of Talokan. Now knowing that his children could both train in Talokan, His father says it’s about time his son began to train with Talokanil children, but Okoye is hesitant once more.

“Umama, please… I have not known happiness in some time. Please let me train. You trust me right?” He son said, tugging at her dress and nuzzling her hand in his hair. Had to turn up the cuteness to convince Umama.

“No. You are not old enough to be trusted with such a thing! Attuma, talk to him!”

Attuma nervously cleared his throat. “I believe it is time, Okoye. We’ve held them both off for long enough, you see how their hands long for the blade.”

“We said, we wouldn’t-“

“This illustrates not forcing them, in K’iino… he reaches for it, just as we did at their age.” Tadeas looked between his mother and father and nodded eagerly at his fathers words. “How we wanted to protect and serve.”

Okoye shook her head. “I did not know better then. I know now.”

“Mama, please!” “I forbid it!” Of course, the children eventually began to sneak out and train at late night, which made Okoye absolutely cry from worry and Attuma have to scold them even if he was in support of them training. “You will be the end of your mother if you continue to act like this. Chaac forbid it.” 

Often she would fake faint just to guilt trip them, but it stopped working when their father subtly informed them of what she was doing. Okoye glared at her husband from she laid dramatically on the bed as her children shook their heads at her. After that, she finally allowed them to train freely. Reluctantly, after she gave birth to the triplets, she recovered and a year later began to formally train in the way of the Dora the twins at 11 years old. Xyanza went to Dora camps after that.

Tadeas is very close to his little triplet sisters once they begin to talk, they latch onto him and he is often the one In charge of watching them.

He’s the oldest so he’s very often the one in charge or held responsible for hijinks. He idolizes his mother and father but mostly wants to fully emulate his father. He’s a bit jealous that his sisters can breathe water and not him.

His skills include: swimming (he had to train to swim like a Talokanil, it didn’t come naturally) holding his breath for up to 10 minutes, battle ax combat, espionage, long range combat, night vision (all children of both talokan, and Wakanda were given night vision by Bast and Chaac as a gift of unity)

Xyanza - The Eel 🐍

When she was born she had gills and could breathe water as well as air. I’d on the battle field, you’ll often find her in a body con suit that changes color with her surroundings. She is known as the eel for her swimming ability and stealth.

She was able to go to Talokan and stay there for days or even weeks while her brother had to stay home until he turned 14 and he could come unsupervised.

She’s the bleeding heart (very similar to her auntie Nakia) she was Namor’s little grand baby when he would hang around them all the time. She was the sweetest baby and her mother and father predicted she would be sly and cunning. She is a master of stealth even if she is 5’11 and close to 150 pounds. She towered over her mother by the time she turns 15 and Okoye be like “🤨 you think you can beat my ass?” And Xyanza is like “mom, chill, I just asked what’s for dinner…” “I DO NOT SERVE YOU EEL” “Umama be CALM”

She is a good friend of Itzia as well as trains with the Dora often. She and her brother were close until he began to become vindictive and angry as a teenager, they still have their sibling moments but it’s hard for them to be friends with their opposing views.

“Xyanza… your brother still loves you of course… how could he not?”

“He has become so dark and closed off, Mama… I do not even recognize him anymore.” Xyanza weeps into Okoye’s arms. She misses her brother, she misses her best friend.

“He is going through things he must navigate himself. But his love for you has not stopped. He is blinded by rage right now. It happens to the best of us. Do not cry for he is not gone.” :((

She a thickly thick broad too. Very popular with all the youth of Talokanda. Wide hips, lil waists but built! She is STACKED! Call her the Willow smith bc her parents are powerful and she’s a bad bitch.

She very much is an icon in their kingdom, people wear her clothing and suck up to her a lot but it’s not difficult bc she is a sweetheart, though very competitive. When she’s being normal think Ty Lee but when she’s in a competition or match off she turns full on Azula. She’s smart as a whip and very easy to fall for. She has some of her fathers features but her face is her mamas. The side eyes and stank faces are completely her mothers.

She trained for many years as a Dora. And her mother was excited to think her daughter would follow in her footsteps but Xyanza is not the girl to be an obedient soldier. She questions authority and is steadfast in her personal beliefs.

She still has not told her mother she doesn’t want to be a Dora. Her mother is the Head of Border Defense and General of the Midnight Angels… how can she tell her nationalist African mother that she wanted to be a spy/war dog?

Her skills include: swimming (Talokanil, Contorting her body (Eel) Night vision (Talokanil) Camouflage, close range combat) Think Ty Lee from Avatar TLAB

Itzia - The Clawed Serpent 🪽

She’s a goofball fr, he relationship with her mom isn’t the tightest but she still loves her and knows her mother loves her too.

She’s much closer to her father, or she was until he began to push her away when she turned around 13… she doesn’t know why (see this post for the reason) and instead turns her attention to her closest friends, Tadeas and Xyanza for her chosen family. She’s a massive rebel and a bad influence.

She will not do what she’s told, she don’t give a fuck that her dad is the godking of Talokan and her mother is the black panther and queen. She definitely gives “I didn’t ask for this life” but she’s truly the life of the party.

She’s got namor’s trademark wolf smile, pointed ears and winged feet but besides that she absolutely her mother’s daughter. @mickimomo maybe she’s tight with her auntie ora and auntie oni 👀👀

Her skills include: lesbianism/rizz, flight, superhuman strength, Siren song of Pathos (think blue Diamond), Night vision (All Talokandan children), She has a good lie detector in her brain

TBC 👀 for more info click here

[quintessencewrites]

Ally? Ally.

ShuRiri x OC (Sade Davis)

Sade's first date with the Wakandan Queen and reconnection with her Riri.

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of abortion, some angst, hella fluff

Word Count: 2.9k+

Tags: @sweetalittleselfish-honey @letitias-fav @zestgodtj @becauseimswagman1 @iloveours@k3nn3dyxo @dayjlovesromance

A/N: Whew, yall have no idea what it took to finally get this story out! Enjoy this one, cuz my next story will have a bit of a time jump. I did proofread this, but I'm coming off a 12 and a half hour shift, so if you find any mistakes, pretend you didn't see them.

Enjoy &lt;3

“Are you out of your mind?” Iris asked, her voice ascending with each word. Honey was sprawled across our bedroom floor, laughter engulfing her. “There’s no way you’re going though, right?” Iris cuts through the sound of her partner’s chuckles. 

“Actually… I am,” I trail off, standing from my bed and heading to my closet.

“The Queen of Wakanda’s got balls,” Honey howls. “First she takes your girl from you, then she takes you for herself.” Iris cuts her eyes at Honey, silently shushing them, then turns back to me. “What’s going on in your head, Sade?”

Honey sits up at the question and adds “Yeah Corazóne. If you needed to get a ménage à trois out of your system, all you had to do was ask.” They’re struggling to hold back tears and giggles when Iris points to the door and tells poor Honey “Goodbye.”

Iris is much smaller than Honey, but her voice is so commanding that it gives her partner no choice but to obey. My roommate leaves our room, still cracking up. Iris turns back to me and walks over, grabbing both of my hands in hers. She repeats: “What is going on in your head? Why did you agree to go out with Shuri?”

She’s looking at me as if she can see right through me. I open my mouth to answer, then shut it again. I have to look away. If I keep looking Iris in the eyes, she’ll be able to get my entire life’s story out of me, dark secrets included. 

Iris isn't having it though. She releases one of my hands, grabs my chin, and pulls my eyes back to her. She deepens her gaze, eyebrows raising, and asks me once more. “What is going through your mind, Sade?”

“I miss her,” I cry out. Iris doesn’t say a word, instead nodding to my response. “I miss my Riri,” I continue. “I miss her so much it hurts, Iris.” Cue the damned tears that I’m tired of crying. “I want to see what Riri saw in her when she-” I can’t finish the statement. “I need to see what Riri saw in her.”

By the time I finish pouring out my heart, Iris is teary-eyed too. She blinks and I feel the hold she had on me snap. “Is this going to hurt you more than it’ll help you?”

Is it?

“I sure as hell hope it doesn’t,” I answer truthfully and Iris smiles at my response. “Let me help you get ready then.”

I’m so grateful because I didn’t even know where to start. Before I get a chance to thank her, Iris throws her arms around my neck and pulls me in. I don’t hesitate to hug her back, tightly. Tears fill my already damp eyes. I’ve needed a hug for so long. We stay in the embrace for several minutes, me with salty tears and snot running down Iris’ shoulder, and her rubbing my back in comfort. Iris pulls away first and walks over to my closet.

“Where is she taking you?”

“The Botanical Gardens.”

I see a flash of a smile on Iris’ face, but it doesn’t last long. Her expression is now one of worry. “You’re staying on campus for your date?” I offer up a confused “Yeah.” Iris’ anxious eyes grow more prominent than I ever thought was possible. 

“Sade, you’ve already got the entire student body talking about you because your girlfriend-” She changes her words when I flinch. “Ex-girlfriend went MIA. They’re gonna talk more.”

“They’re still talking? Riri’s back; she has been for a month, safe and sound. What are they possibly talking about?”

Iris cringes, holding a flowy white dress in her hands, and answers. “Sade, nobody knows where Riri was. You told Honey and me, but the only people who know where Riri was basically live within these four walls, and the only ones who know why are you, her, and the Queen.”

“So they’re making shit up? What are they saying?”

Iris walks over to my bed, lays the dress down, and sits beside it. She shrugs, “It’s what the human brain does to fill in the gaps.”

“Iris,”  I start slowly. “What are they saying?”

An insincere chuckle leaves her lips. “Depends on who you ask. One theory is that you were abusing Riri and she was hospitalized for a few days.” My jaw drops, but Iris continues. “Somebody told me that Riri cheated on you with a professor and ended up pregnant. She left and went to Virginia for an abortion, and when you found out, you dumped her.”

“What the fu-” My phone’s buzzing silences the explicits about to leave my mouth. Shaking my head and reaching into my pocket, I pull out the little device and read the message that just came in from a number I don’t recognize. The message reads: ‘I have sent Okoye to pick you up. I will see you at the gardens in 20 minutes, Miss Davis.’ It’s clearly from Shuri. My eyes focus on the last part of the text. 20 minutes. I had 20-now 19 minutes and 27 seconds- to be ready and out the door. 

“Shit Iris, I’m gonna be late.”

“That’s kind of your M.O.”

I don't even have time to glare at the girl. Instead, I rush to my vanity. “Ight now. Come make me pretty.”

Okoye doesn't knock when she arrives. The general picks the lock, just as she had when she first stepped foot in my place. I’m sliding on my shoes and standing in the warrior's presence. She looks me up and down, taking in my appearance. I don’t know how, but Iris had worked her magic on me. The white dress was cut low enough to give a peek of cleavage, and the thin spaghetti straps held them high and proud. The hem of the dress flowed and just barely kissed the ground. She didn’t do much to my hair. “Your natural curls look best,” she’d told me, fluffing the type 4 coils. 

“Let’s go,” Okoye finally spoke. “The Queen is waiting.”

The ride to the gardens was an awkward, silent one. Okoye’s eyes never left me, while mine searched for anything but her. I nearly jumped out of the vehicle when we arrive, longing to escape the Wakandan’s glare. 

My eyes scan through the flock of flowers, searching for the Queen. I spot her a few feet away, crouched to the ground, examining some plant with intensity. 

I step towards her hunched figure, slowly and hesitantly. The nerves in my body were growing and spreading. Maybe I should just turn around and go home… Too late; she’d seen me. She stands, towering over my short frame, and greets me with a wide smile. Her majesty’s eyes wander my body and somehow that large smile grows larger. 

“Okay,” she drags out. “Not even together yet and you’re already matching my drip.”

I feel the blush start in my stomach and climb up to my cheeks as I look down at her fit. She’s wearing all white as well, toned muscles on display through the fabric, and curls hanging low in her face. 

“You look stunning,” her words pulled my eyes away from her body and back to her face. Blushing even harder, I whispered “Thanks.”

The queen holds her hand out, offering it up to me. “Come,” she speaks. “Walk with me?” I found myself nodding in agreement and allowed her hand to rest in mine. It fit so well, her hard calloused fingers countering my soft, manicured ones. We walked in slow motion up the path in comfortable silence. I caught her big, brown eyes searching the plants that surrounded us before making their way back to me. She spoke first, breaking the stillness.

“I’m not the person you think I am.”

That stops me in my tracks and I turn to face her. “I’m sorry?”

“I am not the person you think I am,” she repeats. I’m intrigued by her words. “How would you know what I think of you?” I challenged.

Her smile drops and a mask of seriousness overtakes her features. With furrowed brows and a sigh, the Queen responds. “I’m not a homewrecker or some selfish bitch. I was not trying to break up you and Riri. It’s just- so much was happening. There were so many emotions. I needed an outlet, but I went about it all wrong and I will never be able to apologize enough.”

I tried to swallow, but my throat rejected the action, too dry to attempt it.

“When Namor attacked my country, my people were caught off guard; we were unprepared.” I nodded. “Riri told me this already,” I started. Shuri’s eyes grew teary. “I’m sure she left this part out.”

“Namor targeted my mother and Miss Williams. He flooded my palace and when we reached it my moth-” Her voice cracked and her hand squeezed mine, needing an anchor. I squeezed back. “Shuri, you don’t have to. I know what happened to Queen Ramonda.”

Shuri held up her free hand, eyes pleading, and I was silenced. She continued.

“My mother and your Riri were laid on their backs. Surrounded by water, neither one breathing.”

I felt my breath hitch in my chest. Riri mentioned the Queen’s drowning but omitted her own.

“I tried to help. To save them both, but I didn’t have the strength of the black panther yet; I was easily restrained. Okoye and Nakia took charge. Nakia took to Miss Riri and shocked her twice. Okoye did the same to my mother.” Tears were flowing down the Queen’s slender face and I realized they were coating my own as well. “It took only one more shock for Riri to come to, coughing and throwing up the water that filled her stomach and lungs. My mother never woke.”

My chest heaves as I process her words. I could've lost my Riri for good, and I would have never known. “She-” I attempt. “She didn’t-”

“I didn’t think she would,” the Queen interrupts. “She blames herself for my mother’s death.”

My mind is racing, trying to digest all of this. Shuri’s slender hands rise to my face and wipe it free of the tears adorning it. “I have been through so much this past year, but you have been through so much mental anguish lately, sithandwa sam. Your eyes are filled with so much sadness.” Her hand lingers on my face, caressing my cheek. I lean into the touch, not realizing how deprived I had been. 

“Queen Shuri,” I begin. The young royal shakes her head. “Just Shuri, please.” 

“Shuri,” I say slowly. “Why did you ask me out?”

Her eyes finally leave my face and her head hangs. “Riri spoke of you in Wakanda. Very highly, might I add. I thought to myself ‘Wow! I have to meet the girl who receives such praise from the most intelligent person I know.”

By now, Shuri and I have reached the bench in the center of the garden and together, we take a seat. “She talked about me?”

“Always.”

“So, you knew I existed and you two still-” I trailed off.

My question catches the Queen off guard. “We were in an overly emotional state, Miss Davis-” Now it’s my turn to interrupt. “Sade,” I correct. She nods and continues. “Sade, we were so caught up in our emotions and it just happened.” 

I nodded, growing exhausted from hearing the same answer, exhausted from the drama, and exhausted from all the damn tears I cried. 

Shuri and I sat together on the bench until night fell and the air grew chilly under the moon’s shadow. We spoke for hours, getting to know more about one another than what was on the surface. 

She told me stories of her late brother, King T’Challa, and we laughed through our tears. Moments passed and we sat in silence, staring at the large, bright orb that filled the sky, 

“You’re so easy to talk to,” the Queen spoke. A smile grew on my face before I could contain it. She smiled at me and brought my knuckles to her lips, planting a light kiss upon them. “I really enjoyed our night.”

“I did too,” I stated honestly. Because I had. Shuri had made me blush and laugh and cry and open up in a matter of hours. She rose from the bench and I followed suit. Still hand in hand, we began walking in the direction of my dorm. 

“What do you say to a second date?” the tall girl questions, trying and failing to hide her excitement. A laugh escapes me. “I’m serious,” she whines. “I’m working to make you mine.”

“Are you taking Riri on dates?” I ask.

Her head shakes back and forth. “You’re my focus, for now, pretty girl.”

I blush and don’t offer a verbal response, just nodding.

“Okay. Second date. When and where?” Shuri’s smile lights up the darkness brighter than the moon as we reach my front door. “I’ll text you all the details. Just show up looking pretty.”

The Queen plants another peck on my hands and one on my cheek before skipping off, happily into the night. Smiling hard, I barely step foot into my home before I’m ambushed. 

Honey and Iris are seated on the couch and my Riri is at their feet on the floor. All eyes are on me when I walk in and Riri makes no effort to hide her roaming eyes. Iris speaks first. “They’re talking.”

“Already? The date just ended. I just walked through the door.”

“Yeah, well you dating the Queen of Wakanda is the talk of the town,” Honey chuckles. 

“We’re not dating,” I retort, ad Riri simultaneously expresses “They’re not dating.” I glance down at her, but she won’t meet my eyes. I make my way across the living room to my and Honey’s bedroom door. 

“I’ll deal with it in the morning, Iris. Thanks.” 

She offers me a smile and says “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

I smile back at her alliance, then turn my head to the girl on the floor. “You.”

She looks up and I nod my head in the direction of my room. “Let’s talk.”

Her brows are raised and her eyes are as big as saucers, but she obeys. We file into the room and I shut the door. 

“How was your date?” She asks before I can even finish clicking the lock behind us. 

I face her and evenly reply “You drowned, huh?” Riri’s face flushes and she stammers, struggling to gather her words. I take the opportunity to continue. “You died, Ri and you could’ve stayed dead and I would have never known what happened to you.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” the girl whispers.

“I put out a fucking missing persons for you Ri. I was already fucking worried.”

She looks defeated and says nothing. “You left me Ri and came back harboring secrets. We never kept secrets. You were supposed to love me.”

Riri steps towards me and pulls my body to hers. “I do love you. So much, Sade. I want to reverse time and take it all back.”

“But you can’t,” I state, an undeniable sadness lacing my words.

A smirk grows across her pretty face. “C’mon baby, you know I’m all genius and shit. I could build us a time machine right now; just say the words.”

The ridiculous statement brings a laugh out of me and I feel my guard melt away. “Why are you even here, Ri?”

“I came over to help Iris with damage control.”

My eyebrows formed the question my mouth couldn’t.

“The rumors are spreading faster than we can keep up with. And they’re kind of wild.”

I groan. “I know. Did you know you were pregnant by a professor?”

“The hell?” I laugh at the poor girl’s confusion. I walk to my bathroom, stripping my body of the dress and picking up a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sports tee. 

“So you stole my Chicago Bulls shirt?” I ignore her, knowing any answer would bring her to anger. My girl doesn’t play about her Bulls. I move to sit on my bed and pat the empty space next to me. Riri hesitantly agrees and makes herself comfortable. She grabs my hand and pulls it into her lap, playing with my fingers and tracing my nails. 

“You really don’t care about what they’re saying?”

“No,” I answer quickly. “My friends don’t think that of us and those nosey fuckers aren’t paying my tuition.”

Riri laughs at my words and nods in agreement. “So,” she begins again. “How was your date?”

I think back to the day I’d just had with the Wakandan Royal and smile. “It was good.”

Her face falls slightly. “Do I have competition?”

“No, my Riri,” I allow my head to drop to her shoulder. “You have an ally.”

“An ally? Sade, are we really a throuple type of couple?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I think we could be. Don’t you want to give it a try?”

Riri’s silent, thinking about my words. She lifts her arm to wrap around my body and I fall deeper into her. 

Hmmm, the sweet girl hums. “An ally,” this time a statement instead of a question.

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