𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 "𝐒𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐱" 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲

I just think that if one time, while they are engaged, Peach called Baker Bucky hubbby on accident, his brain would short-circuit 😂🥰

Summary: Bucky loves the fact that he's going to be your husband

Pairing: Chubby Baker Bucky x Reader

CW: Bucky being LoveStruck.

A/N: Written on my phone.

Bucky's chatting with the farmer in front of his stall, balancing a wicker basket of freshly harvested plums on his hip. Every so often, his gaze strays to the left, his warm blue eyes drifting up and down your bundled-up body.

A smile tugs at his lips because he's the only one in this market who knows that underneath your oversized coat, his sweater (that you stole just as he was about to put it on), and those pants that make him want to bite one of your cheeks, you're wearing his marks like they're your favorite jewels.

You're not far away, standing in a booth covered in handcrafted plushies, knick-knacks and holiday ornaments. Although if he's being honest, any distance away from him is too far. So he ends the conversation, telling Frank he'll be back next week to try out his apricots.

Five long strides and he's within earshot of you.

"I have to get this, it reminds me so much of my husband. Soon to be anyway," you laugh, picking up the miniature stuffed bear wearing a baker's hat and holding a tiny croissant. "He's going to love this."

Bucky feels his heart stop. It hits his ribcage and stops right in his chest. Emotions billow inside him, warming more than the autumn sun ever could. His grip loosens on the basket, a few plums hitting the tall, damp grass with a faint plop.

Husband. He likes the sound of it on your lips. Your husband. He's going to be your husband.

You turn your head, a smile forming. "Bucky are you alright?"

"No. Yes. I-yes," he stammers out, closing the distance between you, his hands reaching for your face. He's disoriented and he knows he's not making sense but the part of brain that's still functioning knows it wants you, needs you right now.

"Wha-Bucky!" You quickly grab the handle of his basket, saving the rest of his plums. You have seconds to slide the basket onto the booth and then his lips are on yours.

The kiss is—well you understand what people mean when they say time stopped because that's how it feels with his soft lips molding over yours, his large hands cupping your face, your fingers sliding through his hair.

He's passionate and desperate and sinfully sweet. His kiss leads to another and another. Around the seventh time he slides his lips over yours, you decide you can easily spend the rest of your life kissing this man.

But you are blocking Sarah's booth and is she—yeah she's taking a picture, you and Bucky are going to be the talk of her bingo night. You break the kiss, leaning back when he instinctively follows you with a low displeased groan like you just snatched his favorite dessert from him.

"C'mere," he mumbles. "Just one more Peach."

Moving to your tiptoes, you brush your lips over his , swiftly pulling back before he can capture your mouth again. Giggling softly when he makes a disgruntled noise in his throat, you pat his chest, ignoring his pout. "We can finish this when we get home Bucky."

Or when you get to the car. Judging by the look in his eyes, its going to be the car.

"You wanna tell me what brought that on?" you ask as you hand a grinning Sarah a twenty.

A blush flares across his rounded cheeks, pressing his kiss swollen lips together, he shrugs one broad shoulder. Your words play in his mind and he briefly wonders if you'd let Bruce marry the two of you right now, right here in the middle of the farmers market. His gaze sweeps over face, lingering on your gorgeous eyes. No, he can wait, you deserve the wedding of your dreams. Until then he'll dream about being your husband.

Realizing you're still waiting for his answer, Bucky clears his throat, wraps his arm around you and picks his basket and miniature baker up.

"Just felt like kissing you." Always will.

"That's fine with me," you hum, leaning into his side. "Love you Bucky."

His response is a quick as it is genuine. "I love you too Peach." With everything he has.

✩ andy barber

do not copy or steal from my work! reblogs are appreciated. thank you and enjoy!!! 18+

series

unpolished: one , two , three , four , five , six

the boston brute series masterlist

The Boston Brute

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake. 

A/N: This series has smut, this is an 18+ blog. Minors, DNI. The drabbles for this series are placed under the corresponding parts :)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. 

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

Smut = 🔥

I no longer have a taglist! Please head over to @time-for-a-library​ and turn on notifications!

Part 1 - Mr. Evans (w/c = 7k)

Part 2 - Sweden Sounds Nice (w/c = 8k)

Part 3 - The First Game (w/c = 7.8k)

Part 4 - What Are You Doing In My House? (w/c = 9.1k)

Part 5 - I Should’ve Known (w/c = 8k) 🔥

Part 6 - Don’t Give Up On Me (w/c = 9.8k)

Part 7 - Maleficent (w/c = 7.7k)

Part 8 - Baby Steps (w/c = 7.1k)

Part 9  - Baby Steps Be Damned (w/c = 6.6k) 🔥

Drabble: Texts with Chris and Marlowe While You’re Sick

Part 10 - The Haunted Hollywood Gala (w/c = 12.8k) 🔥

Drabble: Unchained Melody

Drabble: Cut From The Same Cloth

Drabble:  She Sounds Like A Bitch

Part 11 - Good Boyfriend Moment (w/c = 6.4k) 🔥

Drabble: Home

Drabble: Promise?

Part 12 - Welcome To Sudbury (w/c = 9.3k)

Part 13 - “Bye, Princess” (w/c = 9.3k)

Part 14 - “Is This Enough For You?” (w/c = 7.2k)

Epilogue - Pt. 1 (w/c = 1.2k)

Epilogue - Pt. 2 (w/c = 1.2k)

Epilogue - Pt. 3 (w/c = 1.3k)

The Boston Brute Character Face Claims

The Boston Brute Series Playlist

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖈𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, daryl dixon. ( teaser )

▏﹒﹒ fic rating: R-- this fic is meant for mature ( 18+ ) audiences only. minors do not interact. ▏﹒﹒ warnings: violence, death, walking dead level gore, suicide / suicidal ideations, mentions + descriptions of abuse and mental illness, suggestive / sexual themes. these are warnings needed throughout the series. will be updated if needed. ▏﹒﹒ desc: the silence is often deafening. you find, however, that it is easier this way, easier to fade away. to blend into the background, to be another blur of a face— easily forgotten, & overlooked. you prefer it that way, the solitude. after all, if you are alone who will be around to question the parts about you that you don’t quite understand? the stoic expression that hardly cracks, the calcutative mannerisms, the burns on your forearms? you don’t mean to seem apathetic. it is just easier that way. ▏﹒﹒ notes: this fic is still in writing! this is simply a teaser for it & the first chapter will be posted soon. a taglist for this will be created, so if you're interested pls let me know <3

fiddling with the woven bracelets, her gaze stays glued to the way they rub against her wrists. he can’t help but feel like there's something different in her expression-- almost like there was finally something there. there is something that aches deep within him as he watches her once stoic facade break slowly like glass chipping underneath the pressure of crisp, harsh winter wind. “have you ever heard of the story of the two birds on the wire?” 

his eyebrows furrow, lips twitching downward. “naw,” he tells her. “i ain’t never ‘eard of it.”

“well, there's two birds on a wire,” she starts. he watches as her eyes finally look up, but not at him; part of him is disappointed that she didn't quite catch his eyes, but the other is sure he would have froze on the spot, like a gazelle in headlights; her gaze, much like others have described, is blinding, and he was sure he wasn’t too fond of anything remotely close to spotlight. she watches the fire in front of them crackling and in the embers glow he can see pain etched in the cracks chipped in her broken look. he didn’t think his chest could tighten any more than it already has. its become a common thing with her now. hes sure that, with her, hes never sure just about anything anymore. “one bird says c’mon and flies away, the other watches ‘em close and says i'm tired. tells ‘em that he wants to fly, too, but he's lying, because see, they’re two birds of a feather, swore to each other that they are always gonna stay together, but ones never going to let go of that wire. so the one that does want to fly is left with an impossible choice.”

see, he can remember quite clearly the day he finally felt understood-- heard, even if he didn’t speak a single word. he associates such a day with the smell of burning wood, maple tree sap, and the feeling of wet grass and moonshine on his skin. daryl dixon also remembers this as the day he fell hard, harder than that day at the quarry, and boy did he fall hard that day.

“does the bird stay with him on the wire, or fly away?”

Deadpool arriving in the Marvel movies, scenes like this become possible:

I can easily see Ryan Reynolds & Andrew Garfield interacting. 🤣❤️

*would be my dream?*

so i read a story about the reader being hurt in the hospital and frank went to see them cause it was like a bomb explosion or something but he had to leave because cops were there

does someone know what im talking about? i want to read it but i cant find it anywhere

out of left field - series masterlist

Out of Left Field

Pairing: MLB!Chris Evans x Best Friend!Reader (female character)

Summary: After 29 years of friendship with Chris, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. When he finds himself in the midst of a PR nightmare at the same time your ex-boyfriend starts lurking around every corner, you enter into a mutually beneficial, strictly PR relationship to save his career and keep your ex away. But the lines begin to blur and lies get told, both you and Chris realizing you might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Will you make it out unscathed or will you and Chris be just another PR relationship that ends in heartbreak and humiliation? 

A/N: This series will more than likely have smut, 18+ only please! I’m so excited for you guys to read this series, I just had to make the masterlist! Also, yes, you read it right haha. There is a week gap between Part 3 and 4. We are closing on our house and beginning our move, so I wanted to give myself time in case I happen to fall behind on writing! 

🔥 = smut

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the MLB or with its players or with Chris in real life. 

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

I no longer have a taglist! Please head over to @time-for-a-library​ and turn on notifications!

Part 1 - This Is Bad (6.9k)

Part 2 - I Can’t Do This Without You (6.4k)

Part 3 - Target Practice (6.6k)

Part 4 - Stu (5.1k) 

Drabble: Get In The Fucking Car (1.4k)

Part 5 - Now or Never (6.7k)

Part 6 - Jealousy Looks Good On You (8.8k) 🔥

Part 7 - What A Way To Go (7.4k)🔥

Part 8 - That Old Tire Swing (6.7k)

Drabble: I Just Need You - Rewrite (Wednesday, September 28th)

Drabble: For The Rest of Forever (Friday, September 30th)

Part 9 - Desperation (Monday, October 3rd)

Part 10 - Destruction (Monday, October 10th)

(there will be more parts, this is just what I have completed and titled) 

FACE CLAIMS

andrew peter Parker with the highschool sweethearts trope and prompt “are you wearing my shirt”

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓.

pairings ; tasm!peter parker x female!reader 

warnings ; fem!reader implied at end, established relationship, pet names, pure cheesy fluff to be honest.

word count ; 659

additional notes ; 'high school sweethearts' + "are you wearing my shirt?' prompts used <33

peter was in a grumpy mood. it wasn’t usual that he was these days. not when he was practically renowned across the school for the mood change the second you showed up. your poor boyfriend known for being so sappily in-love with you.

but he wasn’t able to see you this weekend. he caught a glimpse at your window after patrol both days, lightly knocking the glass while you slept in bed before giving up, not wanting to wake you.

plus his favourite t-shirt was missing. a simple band-tee that he likes to wear occasionally and thought he had left it out to wear for school, only to realise it’s missing, aunt may assuring him it’s not in the laundry basket.

his head is glued to the floor when he walks to his locker, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose while he holds his skateboard under one arm. no glances in anyone’s directions, just wanting to collect his things for first period and go to the class.

yet, peter’s plans are ruined when two hands slide over the expanse of his back, squeezing his shoulders and a small but immediate happy smile tugs upon peter’s lips knowingly. “hey, baby. missed you so much—” he cuts himself off, after turning around to press his lips to yours does he immediately notice the outfit you adorn.

your smile is so bright, enough to make peter’s knees buckle, and there’s a shine in your eye when you greet your boyfriend. your arms instinctively move around his neck while his encircle your waist to pull you close, skateboard hitting the floor, uncaring of the people walking past the hall.

peter’s smile widens, a small noise escaping him as he gapes, “are you wearing my shirt?” it’s the very shirt that he had been looking for, over a long-sleeved top to almost match his own style. and god, you looked so much better in it.

“… is that okay? i thought you wouldn’t mind.” you look down at your attire, smile falling briefly. to which your boyfriend immediately perks up, squeezing your frame before his instincts stop him from pressing too hard, “no! don’t mind, don’t mind at all, baby, no.”

you can’t help giggling at his nature, rambled and flustered as he leans closer to you. warm, wanting more of you, closer. “in fact, you should keep it. looks so much better on you,” with this he kisses you, prolonged and sweet in a wordless i-missed-you way.

your breath wavers after you both pull away, leaning further into his side as peter turns to grab more of his things out the locker. you stare up at him admiringly, “you didn’t drop by after patrol, pete?”.

he glances back down at you, another quipped smile while his lips catch yours briefly, your teeth breaking from your lower lip while you respond. “you were sleeping, baby. i tried,” peter whispers after pulling away, hand caressing your stolen-shirt covered back affectionately while nudging his locker closed and bending down to pick up his skate.

“you watched me sleep, creep?” you tease, smile never faltering as you talk to peter. “sure did, cute thing. you cuddle your pillow when i’m not beside you, y’know?” you just hum as he guides you away, your shoulder bag bumping his hip but peter refuses to remove himself from your side.

“you should really leave your window unlocked, by the way,” peter continues, glancing at one another while you fiddle with the hem of his navy-blue top, “what if someone climbs in?” you ask. “you live twenty stories up, honey, no one but me can sneak in. and if they did, they have a crime-fighting spider who loves his girlfriend to deal with.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you giggle endearingly at your precious peter while leaning up to kiss his cheek, noting that tonight you won’t lock your window in hopes spider-man drops by and replaces your pillow for cuddles.

⤸

taglist form . the library . all blurbs

andrew!peter parker; masterlist

Diplomatic Negotiations Masterlist

Status: Ongoing!

Pairing: Teacher!Ari Levinson x Student!Reader

Summary: Newly dumped and freshly fucked by a handsome stranger you met at a bar, you start your final year at college in high spirits. Only to realize that your new teacher in your Diplomatic Negotiations class, is none other than the guy you had an amazing one night stand with.

Series warnings: Fluff, smut, angst. Large age gap (Ari is late thirties, reader is in her early twenties). College AU, secret relationship, teacher/student relationships, shitty exes, alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of being hungover.

Smut warnings for this series (more will be added accordingly): Daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of sub space, size kink, spitting kink, praise, dumbification, degradation, public, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, choking, spanking, anal.

Main Parts

Preparation*

Discussion

Bargain*

Proposal*

Part 2*

Rebuttal

Clarification*

Part 2*

Justification*

Part 2*

Settled

Drabbles

Ari bends you over his desk*

Cockwarming Teacher!Ari while you study*

Ari grading papers in bed

My Queen, My Sun and My Sea

talokan once had a queen. one who loved her people with all her heart—with the same heart she had given to her k'uk'ulkan for what felt like millennia ago. but they lost her to the hands of the enemy; it was a tragic tale painted on the walls of the king's mural, the pain searing itself onto his heart uninvited. he rules now with a darkened hole in his chest, fueled by the loss of his true love and a force to protect his people even more. after all, only the most broken people can be great leaders.

pairing: namor x fem!talokan!reader

warnings: bpwf spoilers!! death (i was lowkey evil for that), colonizers, inaccurate translations, nawt very proofread lol

El Niño Sin Amor.

That was a name that echoed deep inside Shuri's head, its bitter aftertaste lingering still; a piece of Namor that she'd just uncovered.

He was an enigma; a powerful being who rose from the sea, unannounced with his presence but has always been there, deep in the waters where he and his kingdom have flourished in the city of Talokan. He'd just finished recounting about his and his people's origins, how the colonizers brought a disease that left his ancestors to drink a concoction from a vibranium-infused plant found in an underwater cave to save themselves, turning them into water-breathing individuals; the Talokanil.

She turned to Namor with many questions unanswered, only to see him staring at something with a look akin to pain and longing on one of the surfaces on his murals, caressing the painting with a gentleness she had yet to seen from the god.

She shifted to the side quietly, trying to see what he was gazing at. When Namor bowed his head, Shuri saw a painting of a woman beside his serpent, posing regally with what looked like a staff in her hand.

She wore a beautiful jade and gold headpiece, green and brown feathers lining the outer layer, fading in its design as if the light was shining on them. It towered atop her figure, framing her perfectly like she was always meant to be there. She was adorned in jewelry, from the large, circular green jade plugs that hung from her ears to the tessellated necklace that she wore—a striking amalgamation of gleaming silver beads, plated viridescent tiles to carved gold pendants and everything that complemented her beauty. The woman had a tan clothe wrapped around her body, washes of terracotta and hues of sage and cream woven in stripes on the fabric. She was covered in jewels—just like Namor.

One thing for sure, she must have been of royalty in Talokan, or a goddess, perhaps. The corks in Shuri's head turned as she tried to figure out where the woman in the mural fit in Namor's story.

"Who is that?" Her question seemed to break him out of his reverie. She could see the way his body tensed at her question, and whether it was because she cut him out of his thoughts of because of what she asked, she didn't know.

It took a quiet moment before Namor answered, looking in deep contemplation with his eyebrows furrowed deeply and his eyes growing darker. The next thing he uttered was so full of emotion that it flooded through the sentence, his voice sounding thicker than blood.

"Leti' ka'ach in reina. My queen. In k'iino' ka, in k'áak'náabo'."

(She was my queen. My sun and my sea.)

For a second her words refused to make it out of her mouth. The Wakandan princess' mind didn't wonder to Namor having a queen.

The Namor now wasn't like the Namor she had met in the shores of her land with her mother. The Namor now felt like a broken man who would go the farthest lengths to protect his people. With every counting second of being in this underwater cave, Shuri seemed to discover more and more about the man, slowly laying bare the walls he had built around himself.

"Is she-"

"She was.. she was killed by surface dwellers." The god cut off, as if he couldn't bear to hear the words coming out from someone else's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and Shuri felt the sea grow quiet for a split second. It was like it remembered their lost queen.

He took a deep breathe before speaking out and if one were to listen closely, they could hear the slight shakiness in his voice, like talking about this particular incident tore his wounds open again. "Years ago the surface dwellers tried to find Talokan. They were told of an underwater city filled with glittering gold and diamonds, with a palace of precious metals whose value exceeds all else."

"They are greedy, always taking and taking what is not theirs—beasts who ravage land with no mind of its consequences. She was there where the land met the waters along with the young ones, and those monsters crossed paths with them." Namor shook his head, disdain present in the way he moved his body and his words.

"The first thing they did they raised their weapons, pointing it at her when all she did was offer them her hands. She tried to speak to them, to negotiate with peace and kindness. But they are blinded with hatred." He spat that word out and Shuri almost flinched at his tone.

"With no mercy they killed her and the children. They took their lives as if it was nothing to them."

"When I emerged to the surface.. she was already dying."

One of your handmaids had been the one to inform him of the situation, barging into his mural room right when he got back from a trip with a growing panic in her eyes as she screamed in anguish, 'Le reina! Le reina!'

"I turned to those murderers and treated them with how they treated my wife and the young ones; I killed them with no mercy."

The feathered serpent god will never forget the possessing rage he felt when he saw what those killers did to his wife. Without a single doubt in his movements he flew towards them like a strike of lightning and sliced their heads off before they could even scream.

Something that would always haunt his dreams was seeing his beloved die in his arms, unable to do anything, running out of time.

Sometimes, if the K'uk'ulkan thought too much about it, he could still feel the way he held you in his arms, the jarring coldness of your body that surged across his skin like a bloodthirsty frostbite.

Your hair fell in a pool beneath your head, encrusted with blood that he didn't know where it came from. There was too much, too much of it that slithered around your body. With trembling hands he supported the back of your neck, bringing your face closer as he cradled your cheeks in his palms.

"Ma', ma', in puksi'ik'al.. jaap wicho'ob, láayli' ma' jach a súutuko'," he pleaded, heart racing a thousand beats at your weakened state. His fingers stroked your temples, tracing the skin from your eyebrows to the high point of your cheek and you swore you would forever savor the feel of his skin on yours.

(No, no, my heart.. open your eyes, it's not your time yet,)

"It's al-..right, in amado." You choked out, holding the hand that held your face and leaning onto his palms with whatever energy you had left in you. It was getting harder to open your eyes or even speak, the hole in your chest rampaging your body like an unquenched beast.

"In ku. Let go, K'ukulkan. Ts'o'ok in meentik le ba'ax táan des-.. destinado in beetik waye'.. je'el u páajtal in je'elel bejla'e'.."

(They call me. I've done what I was meant to do here.. I can rest now..)

He ignored your terrifying acceptance and gently quieted you, pressing his lips onto your forehead in deep fervor. "Save you words, in yaakunaj-"

Namor's heart threatened to jump right out of his chest when he felt your hand go slightly limp, desperately taking it above the crook of his neck, right where the ends of his jaw met his ears. The king held onto you so tightly, trying to keep you grounded with him in the world of the living as if the warmth of his body would spread life to your decaying one. He saw you smile peacefully, like his touch rejuvenated you for a single beat, slowly yet surely stroking the tip of his pointed ears as you've always done whenever you had the chance to. It was a small act of affection that Namor fell weak to, and he couldn't contain the abrupt cry that fell from his lips at the familiar gesture.

"K'a'as a puksi'ik'al yéetel a-.. a yaakunaj, in ajawo'," but even then your stubborn and insistent nature persevered. You spoke with only him and your love for him in mind, silently telling him that this will not be the end. That despite after all this when you will no longer be there to tell him just how beloved and brave he is, he should still remember what he had learned—what he had taught you. You hoped that it would keep him grounded and true, still fierce but with compassion and empathy.

(Remember your heart and your love, my king,)

"In.. yaakunech," and you let our your final breathe, the light in your eyes no longer shining as you stared up into nothing. At the least you looked content to pass to the afterlife in your husbands arms, a gentle lift on the corner of your lips to signify that you've moved on. But along with your departure you tore apart of Namor that he didn't think could ever be replaced—left him with a half-ripped heart and as a shell of the man he once was.

(I love you)

Now, kneeling on the prickling pearly sand tainted with weeping carmine, he was not a god. He was not the king of a powerful underwater nation, he was not a lethal mutant, a hero, a villain, or a protector. No, he was just a man. A man whose heart had been punctured with a hole in the shape of his beloved.

He screamed at the world with the voice of someone who had just lost everything, scorning the surface dwellers with a burning pit of anger and vengeance in his blackened heart. It echoed around the area, bleeding onto every rock, every blade of grass and every tree with his promise of death. The sea grew restless, mirroring the raging currents in his soul.

Namor choked a cry, closing your eyes as his hands shook with grief and pain, body threatening to collapse under his heartbreak. He brought your face closer to his, resting his forehead against yours while he scrunched his eyes closed, disbelieving and mourning of the loss of his beloved. Because no matter how much he begged, how much he cried for you, you would never come back to him, never blessing him with that delicate smile on your face again. The god stayed there for what felt like hours and days, whispering sweet goodbyes, harrowing sobs and promises to avenge you.

When he carried your cold body to Talokan, the people could only stare in shock and despair over the loss of their darling queen. In their eyes you were one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, not just because of your position, but because of your compassion and your love—something that knew no bounds.

It was a painful and gut-wrenching experience, to bury his own wife. It brought him back to the time where he had to do the same to his own mother, to cover her in clothe and put a piece of maize inside her mouth.

"The surface dwellers have taken so much. Talokan's queen, our home and our freedom. I will not let them do so again." Namor had a scathing look in his eyes, a latent tone of tiredness from facing a world that only took from him.

"She must have been an amazing queen and a strong woman." Shuri could only utter these words with a solemn expression on her face, unable to reply to such vulnerability of someone she had considered a dangerous enemy. Despite that.. there was an underlying empathy between the two. Shuri understood him. She knew the pain of losing someone you love.

"She was." A calm visage eventually spread around his face as he looked up at the glorious mural depicted on the walls of the room. "She had the biggest heart and the kindest soul."

Namor couldn't help but get lost in his memories of his beautiful wife. He speaks no lies when he describes you. You were the people's queen, as what the Talokanil called you. You'd always visit the people, play games with the children and scour the underwater markets that sold all kinds of trinkets and foods. Whenever the people needed you you were always there, willing to help them without a second glance as you opened your heart to them all.

After you death, whenever he would swim around Talokan and talk to his people—laughing and joking around with them—there would be this.. serene melody inside his heart, a gentleness that ran through his veins. Namor would feel the water pulsing on the pads of his skin and he'd always take a moment to close his eyes to relish the feeling. Then a smile would make it onto his face—the kind of smile that you would always tell him to show more often. His people felt it too, like a warm embrace to their soul, as if you were watching over them, still caring about them even when you were gone.

It was not only to Talokan's people, but to the ocean's animals too.

If there was one thing about his queen, it was that you had a deep affinity with the marine animals. Whenever the king couldn't find you anywhere in your room or in the palace halls, Namor would only smile to himself and swim to the clearing of the sea just outside of Talokan, watching his wife croon along the whales and the orcas, taking care of them as if your love spoke a thousand languages.

"In ch'ujuk, ko'oten paakat!" You would shout, gleefully waving your hand up in the air with no care in the world.

(My sweet, come and look!)

Sometimes he would only stay back and watch you with eyes so tender that it looked like he was entirely captivated by you. By your voice, your laughter, your smile; your everything. Other times, Namor would be too taken by you (as he always was), deciding to join you play with the creatures that you'd called 'your babies'. Whirling and chasing them around them felt like dancing in the water and Namor was too in love to ever deny you of your little joy.

Even now whenever the whales would call out to the sea, or when the orcas whistled and clicked along, he could still hear your radiant laughter singing along with them and oh how he longed to hear that sound again, to hear the melody of the ocean in its fullness.

You were simply the glue to Talokan; everyone adored the queen.

Until now, your throne still sat next to his, the jade and vibranium never ceasing to glow. Every time he sat there, watching over his people and celebrating his kingdom with defiant shouts of "L'ik'ik Talokan" he would always remember your face, remember the proud look you had when you would raise your fist to your chest along with everyone. Your memory will never fade in the heart of Talokan, always lingering in the brightest places, comforting during troubling times, because you will always be a precious piece of the kingdom that neither he nor his people would forget.

If he brought the sun to his people, you were the sun to him.

"You and I, we are not so different, princess." He broke his train of thought.

"Those people only see us as threats because they know we are powerful. They will not stop until they have what they want. It is a danger to my kingdom and my people—a threat to your people too."

Finally, Namor turned his head to face Shuri, a determined aura lingering in his voice and in his expression. She felt compelled to stare back straight into his eyes, the conviction in his tone like a true king. "And so I offer you again."

"Join me, and we will never have to see our people suffer, to see our loved ones suffer. We will no longer mourn our losses and bury the dead for unjust cruelty."

"Together, we will watch the world burn."

lawd this man singlehandedly got me out of a writing slump like.. making a fic with angst + namor = too easy 😩💳💥

this is my first time writing for him, so i hope it was okay! im so in love with him and i wanted to contribute my own piece to the fandom.

also, i'm pretty sure the yucatec mayan was not properly translated, so i apologize from my heart for the inaccuracies. please tell me if i have to fix anything!

dividers by @delishlydelightfuldividers and @rpinkling

tags: @bloatedandlonly