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amhrosina · 1 year

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The Artist and the Sea (Namor x f!Reader)

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Requests are open - slowing working my way through them!

Part 2

A/N: Hello Nonnie! Thank you for requesting! It inspired me, and I couldn’t not write it as soon as I saw it. Also, let's pretend we can't see the spears being pointed at Namor in this gif lol. (Again, if any of the Yucatec Maya to English translations are off, please let me know!)

Request: tbh it's my first time requesting something regarding the marvel fandom but can i request a namor x fem reader where they meet at the beach when the reader is painting the landscape of the ocean? if you don't understand or don't want to write this, it's okay <333

Summary: You meet a stranger on the beach who takes an interest in your paintings, which somehow puts you in the position of painting the King of Talokan’s portrait.

(Warnings: not a lot?, the kisses gets a little steamy, Namor is a little touch starved, WING TOUCHING!!!!!, no smut (nonnie didn’t specify and I didn’t want to deliver hardcore smut to someone who didn’t want it lol), reader doesn’t speak Namor’s language but loves the nicknames anyways, I think that’s it???)

Translations:

ki'ichpam artista – beautiful artist

pétalo – petal

ch'ujuk ch'úupalo' – sweet girl

princesa – princess

The light reflecting off the ocean was a blinding blue, and you had been trying to blend your paint together to mimic the color for 15 minutes already. You grunted with displeasure as your paintbrush stained three shades too dark. Today was a day for painting. The wind wasn’t blowing too hard, the weather was the perfect mix of cool, but not too cold, and the tides were relatively consistent. When you’d walked out onto your back porch earlier this morning and laid your eyes on the little slice of the beach you owned, it almost felt like an invitation.

Now, you were regretting your decision to lug all of your paint supplies out of your tiny studio and down the beach. You rolled your eyes, tossing the palette down onto the old blanket you used to keep any stray paint from spilling onto the beach. You dipped a clean brush into the tan color you had mixed earlier and began working on creating the right texture for the sand.

The beach was mostly empty today, but even during tourist season, there wasn’t much foot traffic this far down the beach. Your grandmother’s house was a small, but cozy cabin-like home, nestled in a small cove that only locals knew about. You had spent many summers here, tucked away in your little slice of heaven, painting anything and everything you saw. When your grandmother had passed away, the deed of the house was transferred to you, and suddenly you were a homeowner.

You had transformed the inside after moving in, turning the office into an art studio, and transforming the bedroom into a library. Your bedroom, if you could call it that, was actually the living room with tapestries hung up as makeshift walls. You didn’t mind, and neither did anyone else. Or they wouldn’t, you thought, if anyone happened to come by.

You sat back on your stool, looking between the sand around you and your canvas. The texture was coming along nicely, and you grinned at your work. Landscapes had never been your forte – most of your commissions were oil portraits – but you had been working on expanding your skills over the last few months.

“You are an artist?”

An unfamiliar voice startled you from your concentration, and you furrowed your brow at the intrusion. You weren’t one to hog the beach, but you’re clearly a busy woman that didn’t want to be bothered. You leaned around the canvas, intent on staying silent and ignoring the man, but did a double take when you made eye contact with the man.

He was undoubtably beautiful, and definitely not a local. His body was adorned with beautifully carved artifacts draping across his chest and shoulders, and the only actual article of clothing he wore was a pair of green shorts. You glanced down at the light flutter at his ankles, which had small wings sprouting from the sides of them. You brought your eyes back up, not wanting him to catch you staring, but the stranger hadn’t taken his eyes off you since you’d acknowledged him.

“I’m a...what?” You asked, blinking. You’d been so distracted by his sudden appearance that you’d forgotten the question he’d asked.

“You are an,” he nodded to the canvas in front of you, “artist. Yes?”

“Yes.” You nodded, standing from your stool. “But I am not very good at landscapes.”

He walked around you, facing the canvas and looking over it with a prompt shake of his head.

“This is beautiful. You are very good.”

“Oh.” You mumbled, ringing your hands together. “Thanks.”

You could feel your cheeks heating at his compliment, and you didn’t want to know why his compliments were getting such a rise out of you. This man was a complete stranger, and his opinions on your art should not have gotten that reaction out of you.

“You are not reacting to me the way I thought you would.”

You stared at your half-finished canvas harder, refusing to look in his eyes again, as you mulled over his statement. Yes, this was definitely the strangest encounter you’d ever experienced, but you lived in a universe where Avengers seemed to be popping up in every city, so the idea of a man from the sea appearing on your beach wasn’t as farfetched as it sounded. He was clearly a powerful being, but you weren’t afraid of him, or his power for that matter.

“How did you think I would react?” You finally asked, peeking at him in your peripheral.

“I am not sure. This is my first time approaching a surface dweller like this.”

“Surface dweller?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze.

He had a small smile on his face. “You dwell...amongst the surface. Do you not?”

“I’m assuming you dwell amongst something else?” Your eyes flicked towards the sea and then back at him.

“You assume correctly.” He dipped his head in a nod, adjusting his stance to face you. “I am Namor.”

You tested the name on your tongue, repeating it under your breath. Your gaze ran across his broad chest, trying to gauge the colors of paint you would mix to paint the golden-brown hues of his skin.

“Can I paint you, Namor?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. He was just so pretty, and the artist in you couldn’t deny how beautiful the painting would turn out.

“You want to paint me?” He furrowed his brows, but the grin on his face grew slightly.

“Yes,” you responded quickly, nodding your head with vigor, “I would like to paint you.”

He was silent for a few moments, before shrugging his shoulders in a very human motion. “Okay, ki'ichpam artista. You may paint me.”

Your portrait of Namor would take you a few weeks, maybe even a month to complete. You wanted to highlight his strength and the unbridled power he possessed, but you also wanted to emphasize his beauty. Namor would have to visit you many times for you to get every detail just right, and the thought of that sent an excited flurry of butterflies through your stomach. You thought about taking a photo of him, to speed the process along, but quickly decided against it. It’s not every day that a girl gets to sit with a God, let alone paint one.

The first visit was mostly a sketch session, and you spent the vast majority of the time studying Namor’s features, sketching a few lines, and then erratically erasing different areas of the canvas. Namor sat patiently, watching you mumble under your breath as you captured the angles of his face. He wasn’t used to being studied so closely but being under your careful eye didn’t make him uncomfortable.

“Why did you become an artist?” Namor asked as you looked between your canvas and his face.

“Because I love art.” You murmured, squinting at the line you’d just drawn.

Namor smiled, and you ignored the fluttery feeling in your chest.

“I know that pétalo. I meant, why do you love art?”

You glanced up at him, studying the way his lips curled when he smiled. You began sketching again before you answered him.

“Art brings people together, you know? That’s super cliché, but I guess it’s true.” You shrugged. “Languages are complex. They cause confusion and barrier us from other cultures. But art is a form of communication that doesn’t have those boundaries. Everyone can look at a painting and understand it at its very core, even if they interpret it differently.”

Namor nodded, leaning back on his hands in the sand. You had a sneaky feeling that not many people got to see Namor in this relaxed state and took a mental picture of it so you could sketch it later.

“You have a very pretty way of saying things pétalo.”

You blushed, focusing on the angle of his pointed ears on your canvas.

It wasn’t until your third session with Namor that he began opening up about his home in Talokan. He told you about his people, and how most of the world didn’t know of their existence due to his vigorous efforts to protect them. You had an overwhelming sense that Namor’s pride lay in the ruling of his people, and that he would do anything to protect them.

While he described his homelands to you, you snuck another peek at his ankles. You’d have to ask him for a closer look eventually. The only way you could do them justice in your painting was by touching them, but you didn’t know how to ask.

“You can...touch them, if you need to, pétalo.”

You looked up, stiffening with guilt. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“You cannot hurt me. I promise.” He nudged his foot out, urging you to touch them.

You nodded slowly, softly setting your paintbrush down and standing from your seat. You kneeled down beside him, leaving a trail of featherlight touches along the inside of one of the wings. The texture was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you couldn’t help the second stroke you left across the back of the wing.

Namor inhaled sharply and you pulled your hand away, looking up at him with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, squeezing your hands together.

“No, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'. They are very...sensitive.”

“Oh. Oh.” You stood up, swiftly turning to walk back towards your canvas, when his hand lightly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

“It’s okay, pétalo. No one has touched them in many years. It was a feeling I had forgotten, that’s all.” His eyes shone bright with ease, and the soft smile on his lips was comforting.

You nodded, returning his smile. You noticed that he hadn’t let go of your wrist, even though it was clear you weren’t moving away from him anytime soon.

“Were you born with them?” You asked, looking up at his tall frame.

“Yes. And these, too.” He pointed at his ears, and you couldn’t help it when you reached forward, running a fingertip along their edge.

“Beautiful.” You murmured under your breath, leaning in to get a closer look. Everything about him was beautiful, and you were finding it harder and harder to breathe when you were this close to him.

Namor stumbled back, facing the ocean with such speed that you stumbled forward in his absence.

“I must go. Something is not right at home. I am sorry to leave so quickly. It was just getting good. I will see you again, next week, pétalo.”

You watched him walk back into the water, washing away with the tide, and just like that, he was gone.

The fourth session you were supposed to have with Namor was nearly ruined by a terrible storm brewing on the coast. You’d startled awake to the loud clap of thunder and watched through your window as the ocean violently responded. The rain came soon after, and just as you convinced yourself you wouldn’t be seeing Namor today, his powerful body trudged out of the water and onto the beach.

You met him at your front door, ushering him inside as the storm raged above his head. He stood in your foyer/living room/bedroom and looked around. You froze with the realization that this was the first time he had entered your house. It was strange, you thought, seeing someone so ethereal surrounded by the familiar, but common, walls of your home. You hadn’t done the dishes the night before, and your bed was unmade, but his attention had been snagged by the light coming from your makeshift studio.

“In here, then?” He pointed, gaze returning to you.

“Yeah. I’ll be in there in a minute. I just have to get my sketches.”

As soon as he rounded the corner, you bolted forward, straightening the covers on your messy bed and throwing dirty laundry into a pile in the corner. You ran your fingers through your hair, and finally joined him in the room a few moments later.

He was hunched over, looking at the dozens of sketches you’d drawn of him. You face palmed and internally groaned as you realized that you hadn’t put them away before inviting him inside. This was an embarrassing secret, to say the least, but you couldn’t stop drawing him. Every time he sent you a new look or moved his body in a way that captured your attention, the urge to draw it in your sketchbook wouldn’t leave your mind until you finally gave in and sketched it out.

“You are very talented, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'.” he said, standing to his full height.

“Thanks.” You mumbled through your hands, trying to hide the fact that you were blushing, again. You shifted your focus to the painting, which was nearing its completion. “I’m almost done with the painting. I think after today I’ll just have to do minor touchups.”

“That is...wonderful, pétalo.” He plopped into one of the chairs you had set up around the room. You moved toward him and reached your hands out, intending to turn his head the way you needed it to finish the painting, but you hesitated. Your arms were frozen, stretched out in front of you as you met his heated gaze.

He shifted forward, keeping his gaze on you as he slowly leaned into your outstretched palms. Your hands curled into hair, and he shuttered, eyes closing as he forcefully pushed his head further into your hold. You tried to ignore the butterflies his slight movement had spurred in your stomach, but the soft groan he let out as you ran your fingers through his hair ruined any chance you had of controlling your blood pressure.

“It has been...a very long time since I’ve been touched so gently, princesa.”

You swallowed, unsure what to do next, but he was quick to hoist you into his lap. You traced his jaw and couldn’t help but glance at his lips as you met his gaze. He wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you closer to his body.

“I did not mean to fall for you so entirely, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo', but you have not left my mind since I saw you painting on the beach.”

His voice was soft, but his hands tightened around your waist as he spoke. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling your lips down to meet his. But he would wait, a lifetime if he had to, for a sign of consent from you before crushing his lips against yours.

“I finished the painting last night.” You revealed, choking out a laugh. “I just wanted one more day with you before you left.”

Namor let out a deep laugh, throwing his head back against the back of his chair. “What were you planning on doing all day, princesa?”

You groaned, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “I was going to pretend to paint for a few hours before showing it to you.”

“If you wanted to spend more time with me, princesa, you only had to ask.” Namor was grinning wide, running his fingers along the curve of your waist.

“Don’t you have important kingly things to attend to?”

“Yes, but nothing that can’t be rearranged, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'. You are also important to me.”

You smiled, cradling his face between your hands. His expression turned molten as you leaned into him, parting your lips in anticipation. He cupped the back of your head, pulling you the rest of the way down to meet his lips. The kiss was both sweet and lustful. His tongue dominated yours, begging for more as he ran his hands over your waist.

He pulled away from you abruptly, squeezing your waist. You were about to crawl off of his lap and begin profusely apologizing to him, but his words stopped you.

“You said you finished the painting. Can I see it?”

“Of course.” You jumped off of his lap and ran to the closet you’d hidden it in, suddenly excited to reveal it to him. You’d been keeping it a secret until it was finished, and to say you were eager to hear his thoughts on it was an understatement.

You set it on your canvas stand and stepped back, allowing him to fully see the painting. It had come out better than you’d hoped, and you’d known by the time you were halfway finished that it would be your best portrait yet.

He leaned in, marking the tiny details you’d spent hours polishing, and smiled.

“Ch'ujuk ch'úupalo', I have seen many paintings of me over the years, but none come close to this. You are so talented, princesa.”

“Do you really like it?” You asked, clutching your hands into your chest.

“I love it, my ki'ichpam artista. If I could take it with me and hang it for all my people to see, I would.”

“Really?” You squeaked, trying not to tear up at his declaration.

“Do you like it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I think it’s my favorite painting I’ve ever done.” You breathed, glancing at it.

“You should keep it, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'. Hang it in your home as a reminder of me, for when I have to attend to those kingly duties.”

You thought it over for a moment, and then smiled. “Okay.”

Parting with that painting was something you’d been dreading since you’d started it, along with the idea of not seeing Namor on a regular basis, but he’d just relieved your doubts in one sentence. You got to keep the painting and you’d be seeing him again.

“Okay.” He repeated, pulling at your waist until you were situated in front of him. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your lips, and you finally gave into those damned butterflies, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Tag List (Click here to join!):

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @thatlesbosimp @legocity2 @softclue @violet-19999 @uwiuwi @omgsuperstarg @purpleetou @raeluvsbloodline @historygeekgueen @kneelarhmstrung @euphoricjupiter @kneelarhmstrung @ethereal-athalia @quackson03 @johfaam @messymissy

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lovelyartisan · 1 year

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Bro not namor holding the shellphone, finding out shorty blocked him.

#spoilers #black panther wakanda forever #namuri #shuri x namor #namor black panther #namor x shuri

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hydravns · 22 days

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NAMOR OF TALOKAN in BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER (2022) Dir. Ryan Coogler

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mysticmarimoon · 1 year

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what's gonna happen in a namor solo movie

PLEASE do not repost. NOT for NFT/AI use. Reblogs appreciated!

#attuma #namora #namor #namor black panther #namor mckenzie #namor the sub mariner #sub mariner #black panther wakanda forever #bpwf #namor bpwf

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spideyzitos · 1 year

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🌊🔱 . . . Namor the submariner layouts for twitter!

... and so Namor, the avenging son, faces the surface men of the world, in what promises to be mortal combat!

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mikilavellan · 1 year

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Latines have won Hollywood

#Star Wars is ours now #namor black panther #black panther #puss in boots #puss in boots: the last wish #not to mention Guillermo del toro #owl house #coco #spider man into the spider verse #miles morales #miguel rivera #luz noceda #encanto #tlou #mandalorian #cassian andor #poe dameron #they butchered my boy Poe’s backstory but Oscar Isaac remains a national treasure

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demigoddessqueens · 1 year

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angst headcanons

Angst bug bite for some Namor angst headcanons and his s/o

Tags - angst, little itty bit of fluff at the end, some mentions of death

If you are injured, he is on HIGH ALERT!!

Your safety is his first priority, and help the offender who dared to wound you because it’ll be the last time for them!!

If you were fatally injured, Namor is a complete wreck without you. Your last words are forever seared in his mind to the point of obsession.

There’s a memorial dedicated to you and all that he admired about you. But it’s not enough. Never will be.

Though he starts to be more short-tempered with the others of his leadership, they know why and if he allows it, try to work through the grief with him.

If you pull through your injuries, Namor never leaves your side. Sure he may chastise you about being so careless and reckless, but you know it’s from a place of caring.

Either sleeps by your side or constantly checks on you every second of the day. Healers are ordered to stay by your bed side

If not a mutant or Demi-god, the whole “immortal loves mortal” totally applies. It’s bittersweet but neither of you regrets it

If you are immortal and/or mutant, then it’s a true match made in the celestial heavens. Constantly praising the other and the safest you’ve felt in centuries is in his arms

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mo-yin · 1 year

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I’m going to need one of you to write the most toe curling, back arching, sheet gripping, nipple stiffening, coochie quaking, knee weakening, dick twitching, breath hitching Namor smut for me. NEEOOOWWWWW

#namor the sub mariner #namor imagine #namor #namor smut #black panther #namor black panther

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fandomsleaveuemotionallyscarred · 1 year

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The Trials and Tribulations of Trying to Scale a Garden Wall

"Ugh! Who was the genius who put a wall this high to protect a garden?" Shuri huffed.

It was her. She was the genius.

But as her repeated attempts at scaling the wall that surrounded the garden of the heart shaped herb, continued to yield poor results Shuri was growing increasingly agitated.

"I will get over this wall! So help me Bast" She announced placing her foot on one of the ivy branches and began climbing.

Shuri could feel the ivy giving underneath her. How were these plants not able to carry her weight? She was such a tiny thing, it was a wonder how she stayed on the ground when a strong breeze blew her way.

Surely these plants should be considered a shame to their kind. Either that or the ridiculous garb she had on was to blame. After all, the corset really was very uncomfortable.

"Miss?" Came a voice from behind her.

"OH great just what she needed! a witness!" She mumbled

"Miss? What are you doing" the voice asked, the deep timbre and heavy Talokanil accent marking the person as a Talokanil man.

"Nothing" She replied simply, before placing her foot on the next branch.

"I think you are doing something"

"I am not"

"Yes you are" the voice challenged

"I am doing nothing! And if you could kindly leave me to my nothing and go and wait inside with the rest of the wolves"

The ivy finally gave causing Shuri to fall, but seeing as she had only made it up all of two feet she was able to land on her two feet.

"Ugh! These vines are too weak!" She exclaimed dusting her hands off

"Miss what are you doing?" The voice asked again.

Shuri realized that if she didn't answer his questions he man would remain so she told him

"If you must know I am trying to ascertain the best way to make it over the garden wall"

"And why is that?"

"Well I want to see what the view is like from the other side- I am running away genius!" Shuri called back sarcastically

She remained with her back to the stranger, her mind still trying to calculate how to get up to the top of the wall.

"Won't people notice you are missing?" The man asked

"I'm sure they won't"

"May I ask why you are running away?" He asked.

Perhaps Shuri was so engrossed in her mission but something possessed her to answer him

"Because I think he may be a beast"

"A beast?" Came the confused reply

"Or a troll! Or a mutant with elf ears and wings on his ankles!" Shuri continued

"Wings on his- who are you talking about?" The stranger questioned

Shuri huffed a laugh "That is none of your business random person"

The stranger grew quiet perhaps he was stunned by her responses or perhaps he had left.

Shuri dared a glance behind her, the man was still there. He was staring at her, an amused expression on his handsome face. Shuri turned her attention back to the wall, there was no point in lingering on the handsome stranger whose eyes seemed to burn through her, not when she was betrothed and trying to escape.

"It's the King of Talokan, the Kuk'ul'kan or whoever he is" She pulled on the vines again, before finishing, "I think he might be a beast"

"So beast or troll, what he looks like matters?" The man asked

"I don't care what he looks like!" She turned to face him then, "What I do care about is not knowing and no one will speak of him so therefore he must be a beast or a troll!"

The stranger chuckled, "Or a mutant with elf ears and wings on his ankles?" He said, his dark eyes lighting up with humor and what looked to Shuri like interest, but she did not want dwell on that.

"Exactly! So if you excuse me!" Shuri returned her gaze to the wall and finally an idea struck her, the stranger was a little taller than her and his physique looked well enough

"Yes! Do you see there?" She cried, gesturing to a crack in the wall just out of her height range.

"I believe that with a boost I can make it over the garden wall"

"You want me to help you?" He asked voice tinged with disbelief

"Yes! Please now hurry! Just take hold of my waist and lift and I'll do the rest" Shuri explained.

"Princess, I have no intention of helping you" came the strangers reply

Shuri once again turned to face the man. Angered by his refusal to help her.

"I am a lady in distress!" She chastised, putting her hands on her hips

"You refuse to help a lady in distress?"

Then she realized "Wait! Princess? I never told you who I was" she accused.

"That is true you didn't"

The man drew himself up to his full height, cocking his head to one side. The movement seemed smug and the smirk on his face even more so.

Shuri was beginning to become regret the fact she ever considered him handsome

"I refuse to help" he spoke taking a step towards Shuri

"When that lady is trying to climb over a garden wall" he continued moving closer and closer until he had Shuri had backed up against the wall. He had her pinned with his gaze and Shuri felt her face grow warm at the attention.

"So that she does not have to marry me" he finished, whispering the last bit in her ear. Shuri refused to shiver she would bot give him the satisfaction.

It now seemed to Shuri, like there was no air left in the garden. Which her scientific mind told her was ridiculous because trees create oxygen and so if anything the garden was full of it.

No her breathless has everything to do with the handsome, dark eyed, brown skinned man who had her backed up against a wall, in literally every way.

The King of Talokan

The Kuk'ul'kan

Namor

Her future husband.

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

Well I said I would do it... and it's late but there I've done it!

The Seaprincess x Queen Sophie Bridgerton Au

The fact that I was only able to write this at 1 am (after writing a punishment essay from my boss) is got to be the most hilarious thing ever.

She can write but she can't do it on command🤣🤣

#shuri #shuri udaku #shuri black panther #namor #namor of talokan #namor black panther #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #seaprincess #shuramor #nashuri #bridgerton queen sophie au #throws and runs away

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sock-ness-monster · 1 year

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Jen: So yeah, this is Bruces' Beach Getaway, but he said we can crash here for as long as we want! Isn't this place awesome??

Matt, can hear human voices screaming in the ocean in a language he doesn't recognize but he can tell they aren't happy: It's lovely babe : ]

#jennifer walters #matt murdock #namor #black panther #wakanda forever #daredevil #she hulk #tenoch huerta #charlie cox #tatiana maslany #marvel #disney #black panther wakanda forever #namor black panther #bruce banner

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rowrowronnie · 1 year

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if namor got a phone and knew how to use it everyone in wakanda would mess with him

#black panther #wakanda forever #m’baku black panther #namor black panther #shuri black panther #he also loves that sun emoji he uses it every chance he gets #fanart #doodle

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amhrosina · 1 year

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The Way of the Water (Namor x Reader)

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A/N: Y'all thought I wouldn't immediately write a Namor fic as soon as I saw Wakanda Forever??? Anyways, this ended up being over 3k words lol enjoy! Also, I did my very best to translate from English to the Yucatec Maya language that Namor speaks. If I messed any translations up, please let me know! I will fix them asap if necessary.

Summary: You meet Namor on the beach one evening, and what follows is a whirlwind friendship that quickly develops into more, but what happens when the real world comes crashing down around you?

(Warnings: minor character death (off page), angst, grief, mutual pining, flashbacks??, allusions of smut, but no actual smut)

Translations:

jats'uts lool – pretty flower

in ch'ujuk – my sweet

in yakunaj – my love

Rain pelted the windows of your apartment, and the increasingly loud rumble of thunder reminded you of him. It always did. Even the sound of the shower running sent you spiraling into your memories of him. He had completely and irrevocably taken hold of you, and even though it had been over a year since you’d seen him last, you couldn’t shake the grasp he had on you, on your heart.

You had always loved the water as a child; spent hours frolicking up and down the beach, playing a never-ending game of tag with the tide. As you got older, the games eventually evolved into hours of sitting in contemplation, watching the tide inch closer to you until it finally washed over your toes. By the time the brisk water found its way to you, you had figured out exactly what your next steps would be. There was never a problem you couldn’t solve by sitting near the waves, breathing with the sea.

The beach near your mother’s house is where you’d first met him. It was dusk, and a storm was brewing on the coast, so the beach was empty of tourists and surfers. It was just you and the waves, until it wasn’t.

You watched as the water began to behave strangely, gently crawling up the beach towards you in an unnatural fashion. The tide was still hours away from being at its full height, and you struggled to make sense of it. Your mother’s voice was screaming at you in your head, telling you to run away from the beach and never look back, but as you stood, the water enveloped your feet, caressing your skin with so much gentleness that you were rooted to the spot.

“Don’t be afraid, jats'uts lool.”

His voice echoed in your head, taking over your body and soothing every fear building inside of you. It was a kiss to each eyelid, a brush across your cheek, a comforting hug around your waist. It echoed safety and warmth, and you felt your anxiety wash away as he breached the surface ahead of you.

You took a step forward and faltered. His presence was God-like, but not scary, you decided. You could tell how much power he held just in the way he stepped onto the beach, covered in beautiful hand-carved makings. He stopped a few feet in front of you, watching you for any signs of fear, but you had none. Pure curiosity lit your face, and he couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

“Hello.” You breathed, unable to take your eyes off the ethereal being in front of you. He was strong, yes, and likely very powerful, but he was also beautiful. You couldn’t move, still rooted to the spot on the beach.

“Hello.” He responded. “I am K’uk’ulkan, but you may call me Namor, if it suits you.”

There was a gleam in his eyes, one that you couldn’t read, but you continued to stare in awe at him.

“Are you a God?” You asked, voice light and wispy. “My mother always warned me not to meddle with Gods, but you are not here to hurt me.”

His smile grew into a wide grin at your comment about your mother, but he didn’t laugh.

“I am a type of God, I suppose. I am not here to hurt you, but your mother is right, jats'uts lool. Meddling with the Gods is a foolish endeavor.”

He turned to the sea and sat down in the sand, patting the space next to him.

“Sit. I will tell you about my people, and you can decide if you want to continue playing with a God.”

His voice allowed room for disagreement – he was giving you the choice to sit with him or leave – but you lurched forward to sit with him, the decision already made.

“My people,” he started, searching the sea in front of you, “belong to the sea. As do I. We are a formidable presence, which is why we are still a secret from the world. Anyone who dares disturb my people learns rather quickly that we are not a force to be reckoned with. So, if I tell you this, jats'uts lool, you must not repeat it to anyone. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You breathed. Your body had subconsciously leaned towards him, drawn in by his melodic voice. “Why are you trusting me with this, K’uk-,” you struggled to pronounce the name he had given you but tried anyways. He turned to you, smiling as you tried again to say his name.

“I have seen you here, sitting with the sea, many times before, even though you couldn’t see me. You are alone, jats'uts lool, sharing your secrets with the tide. That is why I trust you. Because you trust her.” He nodded towards the water.

He began his tale, describing his journey to you with overwhelming passion. When he spoke about his mother, his eyes hardened, but softened when he looked back at you. You sat with him for hours, in awe of his story and his people. When he finished, he gazed at you in question, watching as you processed the information he had shared with you. Day had fallen to night long ago, but the dark felt trustworthy, like everything being spoken would be held within it for the rest of eternity.

“This feels like a dream.” You finally said, shaking your head. “Am I dreaming?”

“This is no dream, jats'uts lool. But I must return to my people tonight.”

He stood, holding his hand out towards you. You rested your hand in his as he pulled you to your feet, refusing to let go, even though you were both balanced in the sand.

“Will you come back?” You asked, searching his gaze.

He brought his hand to your cheek, gently cupping your face. You leaned into his hold, breathing in the scent of salt and sea.

“I will come back if that is what you wish, jats'uts lool.”

“What does that mean?” You call after him as he makes his way back into the sea.

“I will tell you when I see you again.” He smiled as the sea washed over him, pulling him down into the dark depths of it and out of your sight. You watched the sea for a few minutes, trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination, and then finally turned and headed back to your mother’s house.

A loud clash of thunder brought you back into the present, in your apartment where you had lost yourself, yet again, in thoughts of him. It had been like this since that first night with him, and only got worse after every visit. Your heart panged with guilt over leaving the coast without saying goodbye to him, but you had to go, had to get away from the town that had taken everything from you, and he hadn’t come on the night you needed him most. The storm would leave eventually, but he would stay with you forever.

It had been almost a full year since you’d left your small coastal town, and you eyed your car keys as the desire to return overwhelmed you. It was only a few hours away, still close enough to be reached by car, but not so close that you would be reminded of your childhood at every hour of the day. Before you could convince yourself it was a bad idea, you grabbed your car keys and bolted out the door.

Namor visited again two weeks after the first night. You were sitting on the beach one night, later than you usually stayed, half-convinced that you had made him up, when the ocean began to stir. Your heart leaped into your throat as he made his way out of the water.

You met him halfway up the beach, enveloping him in your arms. The sudden reminder that he was a literal God, and that hugging him probably broke all kinds of rules, had you stiffening against him. The thought quickly washed away as he wrapped his arms around you, tightening your body against his. He was unexpectedly warm, even though the sea was cold, and your skin broke out in goose bumps where it touched his.

“You are real.” You mumbled into his skin.

He chuckled, leaning his head back to look at you.

“I am real, jats'uts lool.”

This is how every reunion went. You’d hug him, he’d swing you around in the sand, and you’d spend hours talking about everything. He told you about his home, a place you dreamed about. You told him about your childhood, how alone you had been for most of your life and how he was probably your only true friend, even though he was a literal God. He talked about bringing the sun to his people, and you were so overwhelmed with something in your heart that you had to remind yourself that God’s don’t love humans the way humans love Gods.

One night, he finally asked you what he’d been wondering about all along as you both sat in the sand, watching the tide make its way up the beach.

“Why do you spend so much time alone, jats'uts lool? You speak of your mother, but I never see her here with you.”

“I’m waiting for you, Namor.” You tried to brush his question off by flattering him, but he had never been stupid, and you sighed as he refused to let it go.

“No, even before you knew of my existence, you would spend many hours here. Don’t think I haven’t seen you crying. What bothers you, jats'uts lool?”

You couldn’t fight the tears welling up in your eyes. Namor waited patiently as you worked up the courage to respond.

“It’s my mom.” You finally murmured, roughly wiping the tears from your cheeks. “She’s sick, Namor, and I can’t do anything to stop it. The doctors say it’s terminal. All there is to do is wait, now, for the inevitable. She will die, and I will truly be alone.”

Namor watched you, carefully constructing his response. You couldn’t look at him as you tried and failed to stop the tears flowing down your face. He gently grasped your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

“I am sorry, in ch'ujuk, for your sorrow. I understand the grief of losing one’s mother. It never leaves you, and for that, I’m sorry. But you will never be alone, jats'uts lool. You will have me.”

He leaned in, planting two soft kisses on your eyelids and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. You couldn’t stop yourself from capturing his lips with your own. You didn’t think about the consequences, or how many rules you were definitely breaking by doing it. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He grasped your waist, roughly pulling your body towards his.

He laid back on the sand, pulling you on top of him as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. You rested your knees on either side of his waist, grinding into him. His hands couldn’t figure out where to rest, running up and down your body, cupping your head, and squeezing your thighs as you grinded into him again.

The previous conversation finally caught up to his thoughts, and he gently pushed your body a few inches away from his. Your lust slowly warped into confusion at his abrupt stoppage.

“Not tonight, in ch'ujuk, when you are vulnerable and sad.” He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on your waist. “When I take you, I want it to be because you want it, not because you are sad and in need of comfort.”

“I’m not-,” the look he sent you buried any attempt of continuing what had transpired. Namor was right, and you couldn’t deny his assumption that you needed comfort more than anything.

You sighed, resting your head on his chest. He held you tightly as another round of tears engulfed you, racking your body with ugly and guttural sobs.

“It will all be okay, in ch'ujuk. You will always have me.” He murmured, running his hand over your hair in a soothing gesture.

When it was time to part ways, you walked him into the water, clutching his hand in yours. The tide, usually violent by this time of the night, was peaceful around you. It always was, nowadays. He cradled your face, kissing your nose lightly.

“I have something for you.” He murmured, gently grabbing your hand. He began to tie what was probably the most beautiful piece of jewelry you had ever seen around your wrist. “It was my mother's, and now it is yours. It is a beacon of strength and persistence. My people wouldn’t exist without it. Whenever you are feeling weak, let it guide you towards peace.”

A wave of emotions overwhelmed you, and you couldn’t breathe. The significance of him gifting you something so special to him was so incredibly generous that you couldn’t stop yourself from crashing your lips into his. He kissed you in sweet, unhurried motions, letting you push every emotion you were feeling onto him. He would take all the hurt away if he could. Carry it on his shoulders so that you could breathe easier. It wasn’t just a connection with you, it would always be something more, something galactic, something intangible but never missing from his being.

When he finally slid back into the water, you clutched the braceleted wrist to your chest and swore to never let go of it.

The sight of the sea after so long calmed your nerves, as it always did. You had parked in front of the house that had belonged to your mother for so many years and headed towards the beach where it had all started. The house belonged to you now, but you hadn’t stepped foot in it since the awful night that had sent you scurrying for dry land, far away from the world you’d grown comfortable in.

When you stepped onto the beach, your nerves resumed their anxious drumming. The last time you’d been here, you had been so angry at the world, so incredibly grief-stricken and so sad. Your mother had gotten pneumonia, a curse that had taken many sick people before her, but you were convinced she would pull through. When she didn’t, and you had to watch as EMT’s rolled her body out on a stretcher, you had stormed to the beach, intent on burning the world around you.

You had called to Namor, begging him to take you away from here. You prayed and cursed and screamed, pounding at the sand with your fists, but he didn’t come. You sat with the anger until it finally warped into an incredible sadness, swallowing you whole. When dawn finally cusped the horizon, and you had finally accepted that he wasn’t coming, you had turned from the beach, climbed into your car, and driven far away. You hadn’t come back, until now.

The storm had followed you back to the coast, where it was brewing something heavy in the skies above you. A light rain had drenched through your clothes on your walk from your house to the beach. It was dangerous to be so close to the water when the skies looked like this, but you didn’t care anymore. You needed to be with the sea, with him, even if he hated you for leaving.

You sat on the beach, watching as the rain grew heavier around you. The tide was violent and angry, whirling and crashing hard onto the sand in front of you. That’s fine. You shrugged. Let it be angry with you.

A stirring in the sea had you bolting to your feet, running towards the turbulent water. Namor stalked onto the beach, head swiveling back and forth until he saw you. You couldn’t help the sobs coming from your chest. You fell to your knees in front of him, clutching the bracelet you had never removed from your wrist to your chest.

“Namor.” You mumbled, voice strangled and weak. “Please forgive me.” You sobbed into your hands, dropping your head. You couldn’t look at him, but you would accept anything he gave you, even if it was anger.

You felt his presence before you felt his touch. He slowly wrapped his hands around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. He was kneeling in front of you, concern written on his face.

“In yakunaj, where have you been? The sea has been missing your presence for a year now. Why did you leave? Why did you go somewhere I couldn’t follow? Why did you hide from me?”

“Namor,” you breathed, voice breaking. “My mom. She-”

You couldn’t say it. You hadn’t been able to since that fateful night a year ago. But Namor knew, sympathetic expression dawning on his face as you spoke.

“Oh, my love.” He murmured, pulling you into his chest. You wound your arms around his neck, holding him tightly. You squeezed your eyes shut, relishing his warmth. “I am sorry you have been dealing with this alone. The sea called to me, told me you were hurt and angry, but I was far away, and by the time I got here, you had left. I’ve come every night since, but the sea no longer held your presence. I could not find you, in yakunaj.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled into his skin. “I’m sorry for leaving. I've hated myself since I left, but I couldn’t face what I’d left behind.”

“Do not apologize for your grief, in ch'ujuk. I am glad you are here. I am glad you are safe. I’m sorry I could not protect you from this.”

You pressed your lips against his, something you’d dreamt about doing every night since you’d left. After all this time apart, you finally felt like you could breathe again. He was here, and he didn’t hate you.

“In yakunaj, my people have been working on a way for me to bring you home with me, so we can rule the seas together. It could be your home, with me. Is that something you would want?”

You gasped at his proposal, mind whirring. “Do you mean it, Namor?” You murmured, searching his eyes for false promises.

“Of course, jats'uts lool. They took notice of my absences after we met, and I could not lie about falling in love with a human from the surface. Some were weary, understandably so, but the sea whispered to them about your gentle heart, and the sea does not lie. They have already begun constructing a throne for you.”

“Take me home, Namor. Your home.” You whispered, heart aching at the thought of Namor telling his people about you, at the thought of them accepting his love for you.

“I love you, in ch'ujuk.” He murmured, capturing your lips with his.

“I love you, my king.” You responded against his lips.

The surface world had never really felt like home to you. The sea had been your home long before Namor had stepped onto the beach that fateful evening so long ago, but now it beckoned you into its warmth. It called to you, and you would be a fool to ignore it. Yes, meddling with Gods was a foolish endeavor, but Namor was your home, and there wasn’t a chance in the world of you turning away from him now. You took a step into the water.

Home.

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