I Like That Community Went Out Of Their Way To Tell Us That Abed Is Sexy And He Totally Fucks Not In

— tooth and nail

wolverine/logan x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dub-con (logan goes into a rut), a/b/o-lite elements (logan-only - ruts/knots/mates), breeding kink, mutual pining, two jealous dummies, size kink, fighting as foreplay, return of The Claws (claw-play?), outercourse, biting, marking, come play, rough PiV sex 

a/n: pure pwp. reader has druidic-based mutant powers (wild shape, strong connection to nature/animals, influence over vines/foliage) and is from Earth-10005.

Logan knows this feeling. He thought he’d left this part of himself behind. Left on his Earth, carved out and buried with the rest. 

Should have told you no. Should have locked himself away like he always did. Instead, he’s stuck, unable to keep his mind from wandering while his sparring partner - sweat-dewed and squirming - is pinned beneath him. 

(Or - Logan’s rut begins at a most inopportune time)

Something wasn’t right.

It’s been settling under his skin for days now.  Tiny hooked claws, digging into flesh. A syrupy urge low in his guts, his mind not quite his own.

He thought he’d left this part of himself behind. Left on his Earth, carved out and buried with the rest. 

The world he lives in now is different. There’s humans, mutants, aliens. But none like him, answering to something innate that defined him in a way that didn’t matter anymore.

It’s been a while. Almost forgot how it felt, after years of tamping down this part of him. Should have recognized sooner what it was. This rippling, simmering irritation just beneath his skin, so much stronger than usual. 

Should have locked himself away, when he realized his rut was returning.

In his years in his own Earth, the urge had lessened. Dulled by alcohol and grief. Managed by himself, in the few months this part of his nature did visit him.

But he hadn’t been able to tell you no. Hadn’t been able to resist, not when you smiled so prettily at him, practically begging him. 

And the thought of you leaving him behind at the X-Mansion, while you went off without him - to spar with Hank, instead - made him want to rip McCoy’s arms off. 

Desire swirls around him now, as he trades blows with you. Your arms snaking around his shoulders as you shoulder a well-placed hit, bringing you both down the floor.

Logan feels like a pup again, watching your breathless laugh. The clench of your thighs around his waist. The heady throb low in his guts, the pressure of his cock as it strains against his suit. 

His hips lift, separating him from you. Trying to form an excuse, while his brain is rocketing into overdrive.

Fighting back the urge to close that gap again. To peel down those tight leggings that drive him mad, bury his mouth against your pussy and make you scream. Fuck you full of him, until he’s dripping out of you for days. 

The though makes him growl, as he tries to concentrate.

Tough to fake an illness, or injury. You’d see right through him.

Or even worse, worry.

So all he had to do was finish out this session. 

Shouldn’t be too hard. 

If you can just avoid touching him… he might just make it through. 

You know you shouldn’t let yourself get distracted like this while sparring with Logan, but you can’t seem to help it.

Not when you’ve been nursing this thing inside you for months now. Something planted from another earth, settling low in your chest. Infesting like the vines that sprout from you, taking over until you’re fully ensnared.

You’ve tried to ignore it. Didn’t want to ruin a good thing between you. 

Out of everyone in the X-Mansion, you got along with Logan the best. Used to a solitary lifestyle after being raised among the druids, before you knew the truth to what you were, the mutant lineage that flowed through you.

It had paired well with his temperament. His anger and grouchy quips slipped from you like raindrops on a leaf. Something about spending time with you softening him at the edges - just a little bit.

He was still the hard man he used to be. Grizzled, with that scowl of his and the flecks of grey at his temples.

And despite your efforts - forgetting and moving on hadn’t been successful. Not at all. 

Because it’s impossible to ignore when he’s close, like this. Pressing your back to the mat, your wrist slammed against the padded floor. A knife skittering away, because even after all this time - even with his insisting - you were still reluctant to use it.

It sends your pulse racing. He’s so fucking strong - and you think that maybe, even if you had been an equal pair, that you’d still throw these matches. 

Let him win, if it gets him like this. Sweaty and pressed up against you as you struggle beneath him. A thigh jammed between yours to prevent you from slamming your heel into his calf.

You’ll think about this later. 

You always do after your sparring sessions. You hand slipping between your thighs in the shower after. Bitten-back moans as you play out more in your mind - the plunge of your fingers inside your aching cunt until you’re shuddering with the pulsing pleasure, slumping back against the cold tile. 

The fantasies always comes back to him. 

You think that maybe Logan wants it too. Have felt his gaze on you when he thinks no one is looking, but your senses have always been keen. Animal attraction, perhaps. Pheromones. Something about his smell, his touch, beckons you - though you don’t understand what it means. 

And it’s only now that you realize he’s gone still above you. Eyes blown wide, a sharp breath of air inhaled through clenched teeth. A low growl, caught in his throat. 

Holding himself back. You can see it - the way his muscles string tight. How his eyes dip, flicking over your face. Down to the part of your lips. The sweat that dews your chest. 

Close enough that you can inhale him - the smell of leather and cigar smoke blending with more - something inside you giving them a name. 

Want. Need. 

It gives you courage. 

You bridge the gap, for a just a moment. A shallow lift of your hips. Encouraging, the movement pushing your tits against his heaving chest. 

“Bad fucking idea, sweetheart.” He growls.

It’s rough, low. Ground-out as if to himself, a wounded sound slipping from his throat. 

His response has a mark forming between your eyebrows. A soft murmuring of his name.

Logan’s face dips, eyes closing as he inhales. Then, without warning, his knuckles cradle against your throat. 

Wrist flexing as two of his claws spear forward on either side of your neck. Punching through the training mats and sinking deep into the concrete beneath.

Pinning you completely under him, your hips dropping as your free hand wraps around his forearm. A tug of fear ripples through you, but he doesn’t budge.

“Logan,” You repeat, gasping, “What are you doing? What’s wrong?

This isn’t like the times you’ve sparred before. He’s never drawn his claws. You don’t heal like he does - you both know it. Never using more than a loose fist, an open palm in your sessions. 

He’s breathing heavy. Holding himself over you, his other hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist. 

“I’m gonna let you go.” It comes out ragged, through clenched teeth.

“And then I need you to leave, and lock me in after.” Only now does he look at you - his dark eyes burning, “You understand?”

His voice is so rough that it makes your skin prickle. Heat licking down your spine, stoking the embers that have settled low in your belly. 

“I don’t.” It comes out hushed.

How can you? It’s like a flip has been switched, in those few moments. Did you truly misread everything? 

His eyes haven’t left your face. There a peek of his tongue against his lips, the words coming slowly, “Don’t wanna do something you’re gonna regret.”

And for a moment, time stands still. An ache in your chest that’s so different than the one between your thighs. Finger unfurling, reaching.

Slipping up his arm, touching his cheek. He flinches, eyes fluttering shut as he holds his breath. 

“What could I regret with you?”

If it were anyone else, the question would be stupid. You should be running from the man that has you pinned to the ground, claws drawn. Another twitch and you could be dead - the middle unsheathing to pierce clean through your soft throat.

“Whatever it is, let me help you.” Your voice is gentle - coaxing -  and for a second, he leans into the touch. Palm pressing against heated skin, and you gasp, “You’re burning up, Logan.”

“You can’t help me with this.” He rasps with his eyes closed, voice strained. 

Your head shakes, “Let me try.”

A long pause lingers. The room filled with the uneven intake of breath. Logan’s words coming slowly, as his eyes open - dropping down to your throat. And then away, like he can’t bear to even look at you, “Does the word rut mean anything to you?”

It feels like something stirs again inside you. The flutter of wings, not unlike the feeling when you tap into your power. Like threads slipping your fingertips, connecting you down to the earth below. 

“Animals have ruts. Deer, elk, creatures like that.” A beat, as you begin to understand. Heat flaring in your cheeks at the implication, “But, not… not humans.”

He grunts, shifting.

It takes everything not to let your chin tip down, to look. 

“They do where I come from.” 

Pieces start to fall in place. His increased irritability around you lately. Territorial. Aggressive. 

Blending in to what you know, in your connection to nature. Those animalistic instincts that linger in your blood long after you’ve shed your beast form. 

Desire. Mating. An urge to breed. 

Oh, fuck. 

You squirm and he makes a warning sound without thinking - a rough rumble from his chest. His weight shifting on top of you, still hovering.

“How do you handle it?” 

His eyes flicker up to yours, then away again. Jaw working, a breath before he answers, “Take care of it myself. Or, I’d find someone to work through it with me.”

Even as you’re scrambling to make sense of it, you understand his insinuation. It stuns you into silence. You cannot allow that. The thought sends your heart crashing into your guts. 

Your chin tips up, defiantly.

“Let me help you.” 

Those dark eyes narrow as they snap to your face. Your words softening, as your thumb sweeps across his skin, the scruff of his cheek.

“I want to help you.”

Logan laughs, the sound ragged. Showing the points of his canines with the shake of his head. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” His voice is smoky-low. Rough as it scrapes across your skin, leaving goosebumps, “You couldn’t take me.”

Your heart feels like it’s pounding in your throat. Heat licking down your spine, and surely he can feel it - the flutter beneath the press of his knuckles. 

“I can.” It comes out breathy. Insisting. 

His tongue brushes over his lips as they part. A tilt of his head as he lowers himself. His knee pressing against the meat of your thigh, nudging. Opening your legs up further. Spreading them wider. 

“I will ruin you.” 

It’s growled in your ear. Each word coming slowly, as he lets the hard curve of his cock grind against your core. His meaning unmistakable, his voice pitching down with a ragged groan. 

“I want you to ruin you. You understand?”

And, you do. It floods through you, sending your nerve endings alight. Imagining how he would handle you, take you. The space between your thighs throbs. 

His admission - the rasp of his words and the heavy nudge of him against you makes you do something very selfish. 

And very stupid. 

You’re just able to reach your thigh holster now, with this new angle. The quick fumble of your fingers to loosen the small dagger.

The metal side of his claw pressing into your skin as your head turns. Before he can move, a flick of your wrist sends it through the air.

Your aim is slightly off, but it does the job. Seating itself in the control box by the door, a sizzle as the wires are cut.

A metallic snick as the doors lock. The lights click off, plunging the room into darkness. The ground bathed only with the stripes of sun that stretch across the floor from the row of window along the wall.

Logan lets go of your wrist, but leaves you pinned. His fist curling in the strap of your tank, knuckles pressing against your throat as he yanks you forward.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Logan snarls, “You want me to use you?”

His words make you whimper. A soft little whine that has his hips dropping further. An unconscious rut against your core, leg muscles flexing as you clench around nothing. 

You meet his second thrust, your body curving against his. Head tipping back as the seam of your leggings nudge against your clit.

“Fuck.” It almost sounds awed now, his words soft and slow, “You do, don’t you?”

Letting his full weight drop, as your hands grip onto his shoulders for purchase. You had thought you were pinned before, but he had still been using his knees, his elbows. Hovering, in an attempt to keep control.

Now, you can feel all of him, as his body maps against yours. Pulling a rough groan as his hips flex, grinding himself slowly against your core. 

“Logan, please.”

He growls. Fingers unfurling from your shirt. Ghosting down your side to fit against the curve of your hip. Biting into flesh with a bruising force, as his face buried in the crook of your neck. A hot exhale against your skin, as he pants - finding a rocking rhythm, as his body curls around yours. 

You can feel the way his muscles tense with each needy snap of his hips. The way each breath pitches into a near-silent whine, as he seeks friction. 

It’s not enough, as much as he wishes it was.

“I need-” Logan rasps, “Tell me to stop and I will.”

The hand on your hip snakes between you. Roughly tugging on the belt of his suit, until the clasp opens. All while murmuring assurances, half to himself.

“I’ll let you go. Work through it myself-”

That need he speaks of rolls off him in waves. Facial hair scraping against your cheek. The brush of his lips against your throat, just above the cool press of his claws.

“Don’t stop.” It’s easy to answer. Easy to lean into what he offers you, all those sweet promises wrapped in steel. 

The groan he makes is filthy, “Give me your hand.”

Your fingers unlatch from the vice-like hold on his suit. A broad hand wrapping around your wrist, as he tugs you where he needs you. The tips brushing heated skin, making you gasp. 

“Make a fist,” He rasps, “Fuck, that’s it.”

Lining himself up, pushing his bared cock into the circled grip of your fingers. Using you like a cheap imitation of what he craves, as his desire leaks from him. Slicking up your fingers, with each roll of his hips. 

He’s heavy in your hand. You can feel how your fingers stretch - flexing, opening, with each forward thrust. Barely able to circle around, fingers splitting when you reach his base. 

You can’t help but move with him. Hips rocking up, to match his messy rhythm. The knuckle of your thumb pressing against your seam, nudging at where you ache for him.

“I can smell you, sweetheart,” Logan moans, his nose dragging along the curve of your jaw. Lips parting so he can test his teeth against a spot under your ear, the pressure making you shiver, “Your pussy’s leaking, thinking about me.”

Your eyes flutter shut, as you whine. Squeezing his cock a little more tightly, wishing it was filling you instead just your fingers. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He husks, “You think you can take it?”

You want anything he’ll give you. And anything is better than the way he’s teasing you. Palm slick with his desire, your own soaking through the soft fabric of your leggings.

“I want it. Want your cock,” You breathe, “Want to fuck me, please-”

There’s a final jerk of his hips against you, his voice gruff as his thighs shift.

“Stay still then, sweetheart.”

There’s the sharp rasp of adamantium against stone as they withdraw from the floor. His knuckles easing carefully from your throat as he leans back. Eyes dropping down, considering.

Barely a heartbeat before there’s the kiss of metal against skin, as the edge of a claw hooks under your shirt. Your breath held as it slips up, between your breasts. 

A tug, and the fabric is shredding. Fibers splitting until the drag of the sharp tips, from belly to throat. Baring you, the air in the open room chilling your heated skin as you gasp.

Nipples already pebbled as his mouth descends. A needy moan loosening when he kisses at the curve of your tits, his tongue flattening across a tight peak. 

Your arms wrap around him, their duty forgotten. Distracting you as his claws shift down. Your breath catches, but then there’s the sound of them sheathing - slipping back under his skin. 

His hands finding the slice he made in the waistband, making short work of the rest himself. Ripping your leggings open - dragging your thighs over his as he leans back on his knees. 

And looking down, it’s only now that you can fully see him. The familiar, worn yellow suit that shows off how broad he is. Zipper yanked down at the crotch, his cock pulled through with his impatience.

Eyes widening, when you realize there’s more to him than you though. Hanging heavy between his thighs, pretty and flushed. A thickened bulge sitting where your fingers had split - what you had mistaken for his base. 

“Need to be inside you, sweetheart,” Logan’s hand already wrapping around his shaft, dragging the tip across your cunt, “Don’t make me waste a drop, alright?”

Fingers tugging the gusset of your panties to the side. Letting the tip slap against your clit. It glides against you, slipping against your combined arousal. Seeing how you flutter as you clench, your own need spiking.

“Logan,” You beg, “Stop teasing, please-”

He makes a rough sound. Almost a laugh, if it didn’t sound so pained. 

“Just listen to you. Begging like you’re in heat,” He grunts, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need.”

The tip dips down, nudging at your entrance. Lining himself up, before his hips drive him forward. The sudden pressure chokes you - a bitten-back cry as your muscles string tight, thighs clamping down around his waist.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this.” He growls. Spearing into you an inch at time with a long, fluid motion. Fingers biting into your thigh, holding you open as your own scrabble against the mat - searching for something to hold onto.

“Tugging down those leggings. Fucking you into the floor.”

You can barely contain the whine. Brow furrowed, as he splits you open. Your pussy making room for him until the swollen ring at his base cradles your entrance. 

Only able to inhale a short breath before he’s moving. Hands catching your legs, slipping to the joints of your knees where they press into his ribs.

Pushing your thighs back towards your chest, opening you up further, as his cock drags along your walls. He feels deeper, bigger - groaning at the way you clench so tightly around him.

Better than any of those daydreams, as he leans into you. Chasing that animalistic urge inside to bury himself fully in you, ensuring that you’ll take every drop.

Your fingers bite into his wrists. The breath pushed from you with each thrust, feeling like he’s deep in your belly, as that swell stretches at your opening.

“Thought about it too,” You admit with a gasp, as that heat inside you burns, “Wanted you, like this.”

“Yeah? I bet you did.” He grunts, as his thighs snap against your ass. Leaning over you now, eyes fixed on yours. Close enough that you can see the glaze to them, lost in his need for release. 

Before his eyes drag down. Seeing where you’re stretched around him. Another shallow nudge, urging himself deeper. His thumb pressing at your entrance, before slipping back to hook around the swell.

“Good girl like you’d take my knot too, wouldn’t you?”

His knot. Your head shakes. He barely fits at is. You can feel every ridge as he ruts into you, every thick vein, “I don’t think- Logan, that won’t fit-”

The thumb shifts up. Pleasure burning through as he rolls the pad across you clit. His brow pulled in concentration, but there’s a flesh of white teeth.

“Sure it will, baby.” It’s slick, how he touches you. His cock grinding again and again against a spot that steals your breath, “You were made to take it. We’ll make it fit.”

It makes you moan. Your fingers sliding into his hair tugging at him. He comes willingly, a soft sound as his mouth dips to press against yours. Turning hungry as your lips part. Rubbing at you as his tongue strokes against yours, deepening the kiss. 

The pleasure licks in your veins, a molten feeling building in your core. 

A rough murmur against your lips, “Tell me you want it. I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You parrot it back to him without thinking, hips chasing the press of his thumb. 

“I want it,” You keen, “Your k-knot.”

Willing to do just about anything he asks if he keeps touching you like this. If he keeps rutting against the spot that makes your arousal leak around his cock, each drive of his hips loud and messy in the quiet room. 

He groans, the hand at your thigh pinching, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. The fingers at your clit slipping up to splay across your abdomen, his palm hot again your skin. 

“Yeah?” Logan husks - pressing down, almost as if he can feel himself buried inside you, “Fuck, you’d look so good filled with my pups.”

His rhythm going sloppy, as a hand slips up to palm at your breasts, “These pretty tits nice and round. Wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you, baby.”

Some of his words are new to you, but your body still reacts to his tone. The need, the longing. An intrinsic understanding of what he wants, even if it’s impossible with your implant. It still doesn’t stop your hand from slipping down to replace his.

Of pretending, with him. 

The circles practiced, leaving him to concentrate on his own end. Soft panting cries pulling from you as the pounding of his hips drags you closer. 

He’s close, as well. Those sharp thrusts growing shallow, messy. Letting go of your thighs, letting them wrap around his waist as he drives you into the padded mats. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, lips pressing against your jaw. Tongue dipping out to drag against a spot on your neck that makes you go slack in his arms. 

“Should mate you,” He rasps. Teeth pinching down, where his tongue just was, “Bite you right here. Make you mine.”

The words tip you over the edge. A ragged gasp as your pussy clamps down around him, blood thundering in your ears. Nails catching on the panels of his suit as you cling to him, moans ripped from your throat as you pulse around him in time with your thudding heartbeat.

There’s no sharp bite of teeth. Just a muffled groan against your skin as he grasps at your hips. The sharp feeling of pressure increasing, as something thick works its way inside you. You keen as it stretches you, swelling so he can’t withdraw. 

Twin ragged moans, as you’re joined together. 

He comes with you squirming on his knot, his lips pressed against your throat. Sweet nothings murmured - “squeezing me so fucking tight, baby”, “gonna need you to take every drop, atta girl” - his cock throbbing as he spills inside you, pumping you full.

Still grinding into you. It draws your own orgasm out, with the way he’s rubbing against your walls, nothing left untouched. Overstimulation flickering at the corner of your mind, but you’re locked in place as he breeds you. 

Understanding what he meant by using you - you feel it now. Fucked out and boneless and it sends another gush of sticky need between your thighs. 

The sharp, panting breath starts to ebb. The ghost of his teeth becomes the nuzzle of his face, that strung-tight pull of his muscles turning liquid as he relaxes into your embrace. 

“Why were you so worried?”

It comes out hushed, in the now-silent room. You’re sore - will be, tomorrow. Pleasure-drunk certainly, but not quite as ruined as he promised. 

Almost to your disappointment. 

“That wasn’t too much.”

Logan laughs, the sound dripping with condescension. A flex of his hips, still knotted inside you. Cum leaking from your swollen pussy, smearing against your inner thighs.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He coos, “Ruts can last for days.”

His fingers drop, dragging through his spend. Finding your clit again, rubbing slick circles against the tight little bud. 

Intent on doing this one himself. 

“We’re only just getting started.”

I had two ideas for his claws after the movie - this was the second one! This is my first time writing something like this, so keeping it a little light with the dynamics 💖 thanks for reading!

and speaking of - I have to link this amazing alpha!logan thot by the incredible @avocado-writing! please check it out! 💕

HUNTING ADELINE

Zade Meadows and Adeline Reilly

❤️🔥❤️

he snuggle 🥺

zoomed in because it’s too cute:

Family Guy pays tribute to Carrie Fisher and I’m not crying YOU’RE CRYING.

OBI WAN KENOBI, PART II

Discovering myself

I was three when I fell in love with Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic but I started to look at Kate Winslet. And keep in mind I was still a child my mom is super religious and never told me about that. Till my mom later told me that liking the same gender is bad. So growing up I liked boys and girls but I never told my mom about the girl part. When I asked my mom if it is possible for someone to like both guys and girls, my mom said that no because it was disgusting. That is the reason I kept it secret, it wasn't until middle school where I learned the term bisexual and since then I have labeling myself bisexual but for me it didn't feel right. I moved on to high school still labeling myself bisexual but still felt wrong. It wasn't until after high school when I played South Park: The fracture but whole when I started creating my character sexuality and it led me my character to be Polysexual. I have heard about it but never knew what it meant so I did research and the more I research the more I started feeling like it was me. So that is the story of how I discover my sexuality thanks to a game.

Yeah, speak more on that Ryan.

There’s just something about Pedro saying “I’mma go say hi to my wife” that hits different

+bonus

kylo ren smut pls ??? possessive one potentially, secret relationship vibes

Ok but thisss>>>

Innocent

❤️Warnings: smut, p in v, dirty talk, switch Kylo, I don't really know but let me know if I missed anything

❤️Summary: Kylo's trying his best to control himself because he knows that no one can know

❤️A/N: I really appreciate all of the requests, like seriously I know I don't always get them out the fastest but I love you guys

"thank you so much, I really appreciate it" you said smiling at Hux

"it's really no problem anything for my favorite lieutenant.." his hair was so red that it matched his hair..

Kylo watched from across the room, his blood boiling. Not because you did anything wrong but because no one could know, you had every right to speak to the general like a normal person. However, Hux didn't know that you were Kylo's, so he didn't know when to back off.

"lieutenant (L/N), I need you for the- the tie fighters maintenance" he quickly made up an excuse to get you away from the freckled face red head.

"do you really need help with the fighte-" he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You pushed him back "Kylo!" You whisper yelled, there are at least 12 stormtrooper in this room! You can't just-" He cut you off for a second time by grabbing your wrist and moving in to whisper in your ear

"I need you. Now"

Your pulse quickening, you looked up at him innocently biting your lip. "Then why don't we go up to your quarters and you can have me.." you whispered back with your hands on his chest still looking up at him, you knew that was something he liked. Kylo loved when you looked at him while you talked like that. He loved when you had an innocent look on your face while his cock was in your mouth, or when you smiled at him while he rammed into you, that was the same smile you gave him while Hux was around. Kylo knew that smile very well, that smile indicated you knew what you wanted and how you wanted it.

-

Kylo's hips weren't stopping, maker you didn't know how he wasn't tired yet. He had to have plenty of scratches going down his back, which was exceptionally arousing because every time you did you could feel his back muscles flexing and a light moan escape his mouth. Not the kind of sound the mighty Kylo Ren would make in front of anyone but you..but you were so special to him the first person he felt he could be himself around.

His larger strong hands were on either side of your head while his plump lips kissed at your cheek, neck, ears, lips, any wear he could get to. "You like leaving those marks down my back? You like marking me up ?" You nodded your head vigorously in response "well go on then, you know I'm yours" you loved when he got like this, submissive but he could still take whatever he wanted..

"I wish they knew" Kylo's thrusts paused "I wish everyone knew" his hips snapped back "just how good I make you feel" his thrusts matched his words making you clench and quiver around him.

"Kylo it feels so good.. your cock was made for me"

He smirked "yeah it was" he responded kissing you "it's your cock, I belong to you and you belong to me" his words caused your stomach to tighten and your scalp to get tingly "use my body to please yourself, I was made to please you"

"I-Im gonna.." you squeezed your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around his neck pushing your chest up to meet his, holding his as close as possible while you let your orgasm crash over you making your whole body shiver and twitch. Just as you did you felt his warm seed fill you up. Kylo wrapped his arms around you and fell down on top of you "please let me stay in for a while.."

Thank you for the request 💕💕

La Luna (pt.1) (Namor x Latina!Reader)

(gif is not mine)

Summary: After having almost drowned, you awaken in a strange new world.

Warnings: All the Mayan used was taken from translator, i apologize if anything is wrong. Cursing, blood, !!Not Proofread!! (if you have any insights please leave them kindly)

Series Masterlist - Intro (read first!)

Work count: 7.1k

A/n: Reader is mentioned/heavily implied to be Mexican but i tried to keep it as free to the imagination as possible

Singing lulled you awake as you opened your eyes. You were still in a haze and half distortiented, unable to even open them fully as the pang of a headache hit you. You groan, pulling your hands to your eyes to massage them.

The movement of your arms and shoulders made you realize you weren’t on the steadiest surface possible. The circular motions of your hands caused you to sway, making you suddenly aware of your surroundings.

You stilled, moving your hands to the surface beneath you and the feel of woven fabric covering you all around kicked in. You looked down, thick blankets covered your entire body. Clothes askew and wrinkled, you realized there was a towel near you as well. One that looked as if you had been wrapped in it, having escaped in your sleep.

A chill went down your body as the singing you heard while waking up continued. You moved your body, the bed you lay in moved with you. Your arm fell out from beneath you as you let out a small yelp of surprise. The singing stopped. Hurried and hushed voices began to speak.

You looked in their direction, finally noticing the layout around you. It looked to be a cavern, blue lights shimmered all around you as you looked up to what seemed to be glow worms on the ceiling. The patterns of water shone everywhere against the rocks around you. Large and spacious, it looked like something out of a fairytale. You stared in awe at the glowing pools around you, their shimmer something you would have never expected to see in real life. You were so taken aback by its beauty that you forgot you weren’t the only one here.

A voice spoke behind you, it was shy and meek but even then it still frightened you. You turned your head, seeing a young woman standing in front of you. Nothing would have prepared you for what you saw.

Blue skin. She had blue skin. You looked around, eyes wandering back to the blue light the water near you emitted and realized it wasn't even touching her directly. Not only that but she had what looked like a mask of water covering her mouth and nose, along with some on the sides of her neck. Thick jade and gold colored stones adorned the devices that she wore, making her look regal even as the clothes on her did not do much to compliment her shape or the colors of her entirety. Her wide scared eyes looked into your own as she spoke in a language you didn't quite understand.

You stared at her in disbelief. Blue skin…How was that even possible? And how could she breathe with those things covering her source of air? The strange being before you was utterly beautiful, even though she just stood before you, a mark of elegance clung to her. But it was her mannerisms that showed just how scared she was of you as you were of her.

She repeated herself, that strange language once again leaving her lips. She motioned her head down towards her hands which presented a set of clothes to you. Bowing her head, she came closer. She didn’t move quickly, in fact she made her way to you like how one would when approaching a stray animal.

Wherever your mind had wandered returned as she slowly approached, a string in your body rang and you realized she wanted you to take the items in her hand. You sat up, realizing that you had been previously laying in a hammock. You did your best to steady the movement of yourself as you began to reach out to accept her offering.

She gently plopped the articles in your hands, giving a small quick bow before turning her back to you and walking away as fast as possible. Leaving you alone once again you looked down at your lap, unfolding the clothes she handed you. It looked to be a dress, made of the same soft material of the blankets beneath you but much thinner and lighter.

You looked around, not seeing anyone else near you. Rocks covered the path that she had taken on her way in and out. The place beyond must have been where your gracious host was possibly waiting.

The feel of the cold kissing your skin suddenly started to bother you. The shiver if your body was intensified by the cave you were in. Not a single breeze of wind lived here but even then, everything felt freezing.

Glancing down into your lap once again, you made your way to stand—changing out of the clothes you currently wore.

The dress she handed you turned out to be a robe. Thin, flowy, and light, the coverage of it did not do much to warm you. In fact you were still shivering, having wrapped a blanket around you again while waiting for someone to give you instructions on what to do now.

A few minutes passed before the girl from before returned, this time with 2 other women, also blue skinned and covered in the same type of devices that held water up to their face and necks. You could tell immediately that these women did not hold any fear towards you unlike the younger one. They carried a bucket of water, one you would soon learn was to wash your hair and body with a warm cloth. They scrubbed you thoroughly, skin burning as you are sure they got very morsel of dirt and sand your body ever carried. You were stripped and scrubbed in places you never thought another person would wash besides yourself, you didn’t even know they're language to tell them you could do it on your own.

They did the same with your hair, running their hands through it getting rid of every knot and pebble that had gotten trapped. A salve was placed in it as they made elaborate twists and braids that resulted in everything being locked in place, gentle and neat. They handed you a mirror as they left with all the supplies they had used. You stare dumbfoundedly at your reflection, you hadn’t even realized they had placed tiny beads in strands of hair. They were scattered all around and everywhere, cascading down the hair left loose like a sea of stars, making up constellations and patterns you couldn’t even map out.

Though your eyes were tired, half slanted and with deep bags beneath them, Beautiful was the first word that rang in your mind.

Utterly beautiful.

You didn’t even know where you were, why you were here. Only that someone had saved you when you needed them most. But here you are, being treated like royalty and dressed in the finest silk with beads and patterns across every inch of the dress you wore.

You don’t know how, but the dress you were given fit perfectly. It hugged and warmed every curve of skin that was cold. The fabric felt like the soft gentle kiss of a lover as you rubbed it against your hands, the only remaining part of you that truly felt a chill. The intricate beading that spread across the top half of your chest told a story in the gentle work, one you knew you would have to ask someone to decipher for you.

You kept staring at your reflection in that small mirror. The difference of your dirty helpless self from what you could only imagine to be a few hours ago compared to the you now, it shocked you.

Just as you worked up the courage to look back up, only one of the 2 women from before came back in.

“Ko'oten tin wéetel.” She spoke. The large jewelry that hung from her neck and ears shimmered in the blue light of the cave. You tilt your head, face painted in your confusion. “What?” You ask, voice no louder than a whisper.

“Ko'oten tin wéetel.” She repeated, waving her hand towards you in a come hither motion.

Oh, she wants you to follow her.

You straighten, standing and taking a few steps forwards before she turns around quickly and sets off. Startled at the sudden movement, you pause before rushing after her.

There was a door shaped hole just beyond those rocks that hid you from the rest of the cave. The cavern was larger than you expected, halls and rooms were carved out of the natural rock, it was all so open and connected but also sprivate. You followed your guide to what you could only assume was the main area of this cave.

You admired the lights on the ceiling, stalactites covered in the glow. The sparking water seemed to follow and spread all around. Everything was so dark besides the golden blue colors around you. It suited the place, if you hadn’t been aware of your surroundings you would’ve believed it must've been the color of lights around you that gave the beings before you that blue hue.

You were brought to a stop before a hut, covered in tapestries that looked like they came out of the history museum. They were knit by careful hands, you could tell by the neat detail of mesoamerican art all over them. Patterns you only ever saw while visiting pueblos and cities who shared their ancient art in the form of trinkets and jewelry were all over them as well. This mysterious and wondrous place kept surprising you, just how well preserved was everything here?

You hadn’t noticed that the women had left to enter the hut as you admired the art until she came out. Bowing to you as the young girl did before, she opened the curtain that serves as a door and motioned you inside.

~~~~~

You could be given a thousand lifetimes and not have been able to explain what the man in front of you looked like except Ethereal. It was the one word that you could think of.

He had a charming smile, the top of his lip touching the jade piercing on his septum.The dark, onyx black hair on his head complicated his golden sun kissed skin. Moreno, that’s what your mother would’ve called him. And his eyes, they… were kind? Unlike his brows which were pointed in a way that complimented his sculpted face so perfectly. Everything about him was sharp and precise, as if the gods had made him themselves. Covered in gold, lapis, and pearled necklaces he oozed royalty. His bare toned chest was exposed, muscles and skin so smooth, he was practically a sculpture come to life. You could not believe he was real, you spotted the pointed ears on his head and truly thought you were in some sort of sea-water driven fantasy.

You almost swore as you took him in, never having seen a more handsome man. Compared to those monsters from before, he was certainly a major upgrade. You flexed your hands, mouth opening and closing in shock and nervousness as he greeted you.

“Hello, nice to see you are doing better” He said, spreading out his hands towards you, the grin on his face growing wider. The thick accent on his tongue and deep voice added so much more to his beauty, it radiated confidence and power. Smooth like honey and everything that was good in the world, you could hear him talk forever.

You nodded your head at loss for words, no doubt you looked weird. Absolutely dumbfounded at the being before you, you just continued to stare as a stupid smile formed on your lips. Those giddy feelings of being a teen girl talking to her crush came rushing like a train as they all slammed into you.

“Oh, come sit. You still must be tired after the night you had.” He says gently, no doubt noticing how out of it you were in that moment. Stepping towards you, he takes your hand in his strong muscular one. You float as he pulls you towards the small table in the middle of the room, gently seating you on a stool. You looked up at him, continuing to marvel at his entirety. Every move was so smooth and liquid you continued to contemplate if he was even real.

“I do not doubt you have questions. ” He says, sitting down across from you. Those piercing eyes looked into your own now, making you flush and feel your face heat in embarrassment. He speaks as if to let you know you can talk, calm and gentle.

You cough, collecting yourself and straightening your back. “Yes, I do.” You manage to stutter out.

“Please, ask away.” A chuckle leaves his lips as a smile continues to paint them. It makes your heart pound inside your chest, but something about it also soothed you. It put you at an ease you can’t ever remember feeling before.

“Where am I? Who are you?” You ask, the hands in your lap grip the cloth around you in anticipation. Answers, you were going to given answers.

“Right now, you are in an underwater cave in the Yucatan peninsula. As for where exactly, I cannot say for the safety of my people.” He begins, “And for my name, my people call me K’uk’ulkan.”

You stop breathing as your blood runs cold, everything in your body tenses as you hear that name escape his lips. He said it so casually, in a way one would when mentioning their job or the town they grew up in.

“K’uk’ulkan? Like the god the Mayans made Chichen Itza for? That god?” You managed to say, horror painting your face as you stare at the man before you. You frantically search him, he doesn’t look like a god or does he? Everything about him was alluring. He carried and held himself in such a way that you honestly would have believed he was sent from the heavens.

“Oh, no! I am sorry for frightening you. That is just the name, I am not the god himself.” He says apologizing, his eyes wide at the way he saw you panic. He held out his hands towards you again, and without thinking you placed your own in them.

His thumbs softly caressed the tops of your palms, soothing and calming you as your heart raced from the misunderstanding. Relief spreads through you as you sigh, the calloused hands utop yours continued to hold them.

“I am also called Namor, if it puts you at ease to call me that instead, do. I must apologize for frightening you, most people from above that I share the name with do not know what I am referring to.” He says, sympathy coating his voice. Genuine, honest sympathy. So he wasn’t a god. Then what was he?

“Oh! Thank you, I’m so sorry for.. that. It’s just crazy things seem to be happening in this world every day. A few years ago a god from another type of mythology had turned out to be real. I couldn’t help but think you were the human form of the serpent.” You rasp out, eyes wandering around the current room you were in. The weight of Namor’s was felt on you even as you tried to brush them off.

Paintings and murals surrounded the hut, more stories you did not know adorned the cement walls around you. Each was in beautiful colors and extreme detail, you swore you took a step back in time as you stared at the paintings. The breath you had just gained back was, once again, taken away.

This strange new world you had just entered was so amazing. You hadn’t even seen much and had been only awake for about an hour but still, you can't recall ever feeling so enamored and drawn to something like with your current surroundings.

Speaking of having only been awake for an hour, questions. You were allowed to ask questions. Everything you had previously pushed aside came rushing back to you. Your friends, those men, drowning.

“What happened to me?” You finally ask. Looking back at the man before you, eyes wide at the settling realization of your situation.

“You were attacked and ran to the ocean to save yourself. But it seems as if you were too weak from the damage done to you to keep swimming that you ended up getting pulled out by the tide. You called someone as you went under the water, and I heard.” He says, pulling his hands away. When he did, it was the first you noticed that he even held your own. They quickly rushed back into your lap.

“But how did you find me? I was barely even off the coast and the waves were so strong.”

“Sometimes I just know, I can feel things in the water. Like if the ocean and I are one, and when I sensed you I,” He paused, a troubled look on his face as if he was trying to carefully choose his words, “I just knew I needed to help.”

So it was him who saved you. Your savior.

You looked into his eyes, the knowledge and clearance of the events slowly getting settled into your mind. “Thank you, for saving me. It must have caused you a great deal of trouble to do so.”

“It was not a problem. What those men did, or were attempting to do, is something no one should have to go through. Their people have caused enough trouble in this world. But I do apologize for not taking action as they attempted to though, I could not have risked showing myself in a place where anyone could have seen me.”

“Seen you? Why would that have been a problem, you look normal to me?” You say, examining him once again. His people called him a feathered God, but nothing about him seemed to be so terrifying. He looked like a normal man, besides the ears of course and his mannerism, the way he spoke, and the enchanting presence of him.

Either he is a god and was lying to you, or just incredibly beautiful and he knew it.

But before you could continue questioning him, the faint flapping of wings was heard. You looked up, you had seen no animals when you entered nor outside before so where…

A chuckle rose out of Namor’s chest. You turn your gaze back to him. He’s looking down, at his feet. You peer over the table to take a look.

Winged feet. Ankles with wings. Wings. The words repeated in your head as the new piece of information loaded into your mind. So little time here, yet so many surprises. You swore you’d be dead of shock at the end of the day.

“Oh.” You simply reply, brows raising as you said so. He laughs at the small tick in response, the sound so sweet and familiar to your ears. Too familiar.

“So then, when is it possible for me to go home? I’m alright now and my friends are probably looking for me.” You ask, wanting to change the subject quickly. As wonderful and mystical as this interaction has been, it was all too much for you. The clothes, the blue skin, the winged man before you. You were just a human who lived an ordinary life. What would this God-like mutant want to do with you?

Your question stunned him, a shocked look on his face appeared and went away in less than a second. Seriousness overcame him, the light welcoming aura around him darkened. “Unfortunately, we are unable to do that. You have seen me, my people. Letting you go means the risk of us being discovered and I cannot allow that, you must stay here.” His words stung.

“What- why? Stay here?” You ask, astonished at his response. “What am I even going to do here? Being dressed in pearls and fancy clothes isn’t just something I can do. I have a life. I have a job! I have friends, family, people who need me!” Rage slowly starts to fill your veins, burning at his refusal to your freedom. “Why bring me here in the first place? You couldn’t take me to land?”

The man in front of you bites his lip, clearly trying to win a fight over his building anger, no doubt caused by you. “I already said, I could not have risked anyone seeing me.” Irritation coated his voice.

“You could’ve dropped me off somewhere far. Far away from all the eyes you claim would have seen you.” You’re starting to yell, nails digging into the palms of your hands as you clenched hard enough to draw blood.

“What? And let those men have their way with you!” He yells, a fist slamming down onto the table before you. Objects rattled and clattered off, everything inside you screamed to run. To back down, apologize, to hide. But you stood your ground, staring him down with your eyes.

“I fought back, I hurt them more than they hurt me! I would have gone to the police, I knew what they looked like!” You defended.

“You don’t think they would’ve gone looking for you if you did? They know you saw what they looked like, they would have gone to the very edge of the earth to make sure they found you first before you could say anything. You were drowning, so close to death it would have taken you hours to regain the strength to awake on your own. And even then you wouldn’t have had enough to stay conscious. Either way, the outcome would have been horrible for you if I had left you there.” He snarled, eyes burning into your soul. You knew he was right, absolutely undeniable correct about everything.

Your breath caught, words at a loss as you took his in. Despair washed over you and all the rage that you felt turned into helplessness. Your lip quivered at the understanding of what he did. Protect you. He was, is, trying to protect you. But even then, you're still stuck here. Every emotion tugged in a battle inside of you. Good or bad, was this good or bad?

As if he could see the fight in your eyes, he knelt beside you. Voice calm and collected , the opposite of how it was mere moments ago. “Look, I will try to find a way for you to be happy. But for the time being, you need to stay here while I can figure them out for you.” He says, a lover’s hush in his words.

“How long ?” You ask, voice now weak and quiet than what it was. You tried to swallow the building lump in your throat, tried not to think about your friends and family on the surface as you did.

He tilts his head, cocking his brow in confusion.

“How long will it take for you to find my way out of here?” You ask, looking into his eyes. Your own started to swell with tears, blurred vision taking over. He paused, no sound coming from either of you two.

You groan, looking away.

Alone, You'll be all alone in a cave, with a god-like man who you do not know for who knows how long.

“And how are you so sure I’ll tell everyone about you?” Your voice was so quiet you’re not even sure you spoke. Your last way out, maybe you can convince yourself you won’t. You know you won’t, you’d never tell if it meant you could leave.

“Give me a good excuse you’d share with those who find you after you've been gone for two days. Give me a good reason and I will see.” He whispers back.

Two days. You’ve been out for two days.

You freeze, mind absolutely distant at the fact you had been asleep for two days. Here in this underwater cave away from everyone and thing you’ve ever known. You feel as if you’d just been told you died and can’t go back. You were so stunned, so shocked you did not even react as the man before you stood and walked away, leaving you with your own thoughts.

Every negative thought played through your mind as you held your head in your hands, suddenly too heavy for your neck. Silent tears rolled from your eyes at the realization, what would you even say to them?

That you got lost at sea and came back unharmed? Ran away with a man? No one would believe you.

But he said you could come up with one. An excuse, an idea. A way to get out of here. Any excuse you could scrape up in your mind that you believed to be good enough, you’d say to him.

Come up with an excuse for those who ask where you’ve been.

~~~~

You couldn’t tell time in that cave. No sunlight came in, the only source was the softly lit candle in your “room” and the blue sparkling pools. You spent most of your time there, alone. Thinking and searching the farthest points of your brain for a way to get out of here.

You could swim out? But then again you never knew just how far down you were, nor where an exit would be. You could force him to take you away from here, but how would you even do that?

That’s how you spent your time, alone in a cave with blue skinned people. When you weren’t sulking or thinking too hard that your head hurt, you were called out to eat or given baths and scrubbed down by the same 3 women from the first day you’d been awake. No matter your protests, they always dressed you in beautiful elegant dresses. Always did your hair the most elaborate ways it could ever be, a different style every day. It shouldn’t irritate you, in fact you should’ve been grateful they took time out of their day to do it, but it did.

The pearls and beads that stuck to your skin eventually began to be so heavy. The feel of them always pinched every time you moved, if you knew how you would’ve taken the finely crafted jewelry off of the gowns you wore each day. Not wanting to ruin them if one day you finally went crazy and snapped.

You came to learn who made the dresses and accessories you wore, the young girl and the same women who were your “hand maidens”. When you’d sometimes try to venture out of your room, planning to mark an escape route if needed, you’d hear their voices. Loud laughing and yelling, you’d always follow the sound.

Their blue skinned cheeks always crinkled into a smile around each other. Telling jokes and braiding and sewing was what you always saw them do. A stark contrast of how they were when they saw you, so cold and not saying a single word. You wished you understood their language, oh the things you wanted to say but most importantly what you wanted to know.

You did find out some things in your stay here. You found out why they were blue and why they had devices of water around their mouths and necks. It was to breathe, they lived and thrived in the water. Beautifully colored gills surrounded they’re necks, you saw them every time you were being dressed by the women. The blue of their skin was to blend into the water they lived in, if you were lucky enough you could see them swim by in the water of the cavern. They looked as if they were olympians. So beautiful and fluid they’re movements, it amazed you that they exist. But for how long? How long have these people been down here? Forgotten and ancient culture lived and thrived, hidden away from the world. It amazed you just how well he has kept them hidden.

Speaking of Namor, he was never around. Days, you assumed, went by before you even saw him again. And when you did, he only came in to check on his people. Those people he held such a tenderness to. Always calm, collected and with a bright smile on his face. It angered you.

You stood in a corner watching as he greeted each and every one of them, eyes wandering to yours each time he finished. You could say he was trying to be kind to you, nodding his head in a greeting as a smile flashed every time your eyes met his silk, dirt brown ones. You scoffed, walking away and back into isolation, brushing the giddy feelings his attention brought to you off. You ignored the clawing need to stare at him whenever you made eye contact.

How could he be so happy with those he knew while you were all alone? He was keeping you here against your will and he just smiled?

You huffed as you dug deep inside your mind all over again, desperately needing a way to get out of here. You wondered what your friends were doing. If they were looking for you, if they called your family and if they rushed over to Mexico to come and search for you. Thinking about it brought you too much pain, too much anxiety so you opted to stay away from it. But you couldn’t help but keep going back.

You missed your mothers cooking, specifically the Sunday morning chilaquiles. Along with father’s drunken rambles, your siblings yelling at each other across the halls of your home, your tios slipping you money at every carne asada, and your abuela’s lectures of finding yourself a good husband. All of those things that you hated, that made your skin crawl when thinking about only a few months ago, you missed so dearly. You yearned for the touch of your family, to see them at least once again before spending the rest of your life down here.

That same routine went on for a while, a week or two you might say, maybe even longer. You did eventually come to notice that your changing and dressing signaled the dawn of a new day. The more casual you were dressed, meant nothing would happen. It was only when you were adorned with jade and earrings and golden cuffs that resembled his own, you knew he was here. They always forced you out to greet him, why? Not a clue passed your mind. He’d smile, you’d walk away. You wanted nothing to do with him unless it involved your freedom.

Freedom. The one thing you felt before getting stuck down here. How you yearned for it.

~~~

You jolted awake as the sounds of clashing and clattering awoke you. Ringing and echoing throughout the cave, you heard groaning. Moans and huffs pain rang through your ears as you groggily lifted your head.

Still dazed from sleep, it only took moments before realizing what the noises were and could mean.

Danger. The thought chilled you to the bone.You lifted your body from the hammock beneath you, doing your best not to make any noise as you set your feet onto the floor.

Two options, see what was happening or stay hidden and safe.

You fought as hard as you could with yourself, wanting to desperately stay and not see what caused those noises but something deep inside you rang. Calling, you needed to answer. It felt the same as that day on the beach, it ached and pained your body to ignore it. You began walking before you could even comprehend what you were doing.

The halls were empty, not a soul in sight. Even the guards, which were always stationed in every corner, had gone. The only sounds were those of pain and the soft drip of water. You followed the call, it lured you in and you followed blindly.

It got louder, the noise pounding in your head as you eventually found yourself in front of Namor’s hut. You looked around, small blood stains painted the way in and fear overcame you. He was hurt. And without thinking you rushed into his room.

There, holding the left side of his abdomen, he sat against the back wall. Back arched and head leaning on a shoulder, blood coated his fingers. In his right hand, he held a damp cloth as he attempted to clean his wounds. He hissed and continued to groan in the unimaginable pain he undoubtedly felt as he did his best to keep the rag against his skin.

His head shot in your direction as you let out a gasp. Face painted in horror, you make your way to him. You kneel to his level, ignoring the cold hard rock of the floor as you rip his hands away from his skin to examine his wound. 3 large slashes mark him red, deep but not deep enough to need stitches.

“W-what are you doing?” He rasps out, his strong powerful voice now sounding as if it took everything in his body to say one word. He attempts to free his hand from yours but you drop it for him. You twist your body, looking for the rag he dropped when he saw you and the bowl of water he used to clean himself. Your mind raced a thousand miles an hour, help him help him, it said to you. When you spot what you were looking for, you immediately reach to grab them.

“Hey,” He groans, placing a hand on your shoulder as you bend over to reach the supplies you need, “I’m okay. I don’t need help.” You might have believed him but he let out a whine before you could even fully convince yourself his words were true.

“No, you’re not.” You tell him, quickly dipping the damp rag into the red stained water next to you, washing it as best as you could before dumping it all behind you. You spot a pitcher near you, grabbing it quickly and watching clean fresh water flood the empty bowl. Bandages, he needs bandages. You look around frantically, not a sign of any medical material around.

As if he could read your mind, “In the chest, there’s some below the blankets.” Namor says, pointing a stained finger in the direction to the wall across from you. You hurriedly pull yourself up, almost tripping on your own feet.

“You don’t have to do this.” He says, a sigh leaving him as he tries to relax his muscles. You make your way to the chest he told you of, popping it open before ransacking it, desperately searching for what you need. “Why not?” You reply, brows furrowing together and half irritated at his humbleness as you take out neatly folded cloth out, still not able to find what you need.

“You’ll ruin your dress.” He says with a huff of laughter, a smirk adorning his face. You finally feel a roll of binding that you needed, grasping it before making your way back to him.

You sigh, shaking your head at his poor attempt at a joke. A smile crept its way up your face but you fought each muscle, refusing to let it form. “Really? You’re bleeding out before me and I want to help you, but you’re concerned about my dress?”

“What can I say? You look good.” That stupid smirk painted his face once again. Your heart fluttered at the way he looked at you, his black eyes almost full of adoration as he looked you up and down. You dismissed the emotions, both yours and his before rolling your eyes and kneeling back down. It wasn’t even a fancy dress, nothing like those they would use to present you to him. In fact, it wasn't even a dress but a silk nightgown that made you shiver in the cold of the cave without heavy blankets covering you.

You did your best to ignore his comment, trying to stop your hands from shaking as you gently placed the newly cleaned rag against his still bleeding skin. He hissed loudly in pain, mouth opening in a silent scream as he shut his eyes. Tears formed at the edges, who knew a god could cry. You wiped and cleaned his wounds as best as you could, doing it quickly rather than slowly to get it over with.

You ran your hands gently across his skin, slowly having him twist his body as carefully as he could while you wrapped the damaged area in layers of bandages. The feel of his strong, smooth skin against your own was so foreign but something about it gave you comfort. As if you could press yourself against his hard muscular chest and feel safer than anywhere else in the world. But you ignored those thoughts, pushing them back into the deepest depth of your mind. Only to bring them out when you’d see him again, your routine of meeting eyes and thinking of reasons to hate him even more than you do already.

But did you really hate him? You began to think. You couldn’t possibly. Here you were on the floor, knees indented with rocks that scattered around you like freckles. All because you were helping him, and you hadn’t even given yourself a second thought before you began doing it.

Fuck, he even complimented your dress. If he was a God in his people's eyes, their king, and he just told you that you looked good. Those 3 women who you knew could care less about you, hand made the clothes you wear, who’s to say he's not the one telling them how he’d like your outfits to be. The idea makes you shiver. You shake your head as it crawls up your back and makes your body jolt.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed, Namor quickly questions after witnessing it.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice less gruff than before. He’s gained some strength back, but even then it was laced with exhaustion.

“I’m thinking,” You start, finally cutting off the wrapping around his torso from the roll it was attached to, “about how I did in fact ruin my dress. Now I have to sleep in something blood soaked.” You lie, anything to get your mind off your previous thoughts.

“I told you.” He hums. “It was so pretty too..”

You scoff, disbelieving what he was upset about. He just let you wrap his wounds as he bled out in front of you and That’s what he’s still concerned about.

“You’re impossible.”You whisper to yourself, a snort leaving you as you move to clean your bloody hands. In all honesty, you hadn’t even thought of the dress this entire time until you saw the dried stains littering the cloth above your thighs.

They’re going to be so mad at me, You thought. You could just hear the hushed angry voices of the women in the morning, no doubt talking and asking how the mess even happened.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have them make a new dress for you. A better one.” He sighed softly. You froze, how did he even?

You look back into his direction, his eyes were closed and he was half asleep. But his words… So he did tell them to make you clothes. Your body burned in embarrassment. You swore that if you didn’t die of boredom in this cave first, he’d be the death of you.

“I already have enough clothes, I don't need it.” You reply, finally lifting yourself off the floor. Knees covered with pebbles, you wiped the dirt away. Grabbing the chair of the table near you, you sit. Deciding that you’d stay with him until he fell asleep.

“Why don’t you tell them that yourself? They’re instructed to do what you say.” Namor shrugged, fixing his posture as he slid up the wall. His eyes open now, though half shut you could see the truth in them.

“How was I supposed to know that? No one told me.” You sigh, tilting your head back before rubbing your temple, the ache of not getting enough sleep finally caught up to you.

“They did.”

“Well, how am I supposed to understand? I don’t know a word in your language, don’t even think that they understand me. What language is it even?”

“Yucatec Mayan.”

You bolt up, looking at him in disbelief. “Mayan?” You ask. You didn't know much about the ancient cities and cultures of Mexico, but you did know how conquistadores colonized and wiped everything away. How they forced their religion, culture, and language onto the native’s of the land. You thought of small run down pueblos you’d visit when traveling with family, how they preserved small fragments of their ancient culture and wore it with pride. Looking back, it was nothing compared to the grand murals, embroidery, and jewelry here.

Namor hums while closing his eyes once again. “I could teach you, if you’d like.” He proposes.

You scoff in response,”Why would I want to spend time with you?” Looking away from him once again, you start to play with your fingers. Fidgeting to ignore his offer that rang throughout your mind. You had to tell yourself, to remember that the only reason you’d want anything to do with him was trying to bargain your way out of here.

“Why did you help me just now?” Bastard.

“Need you to be alive so I can get out of here.” You reply. He lets out a chuckle at the answer. Perhaps he saw the sliver of a lie, noticed that your own thoughts betrayed you and your opinion on him.

“You’re bored, learning the language would at least let you talk to those around you.” He continues. The offer was tempting, so many benefits came from it but… to be alone with him? The thought made you dizzy, the grudge and resentment you held for him overpowered whatever part of your mind that screamed at you to take the offer. It made your chest hurt, feel as if it was caving in response to your refusal.

“I’ll think about it.” You say after a minute of silence.

Time passed as the two of you stayed quiet , the sounds of his breathing calming and steadying was like a song and sleep began to call you. You may not have wanted to admit it, maybe never will but, some part deep inside you cared for him. Maybe the part that echoed your mothers words, to always be kind and gracious when staying in someone’s house. Or was it the song of the sea, the same one that was sung deep in your mind each time you saw him.

You closed your eyes, slowly drifting off into unconsciousness on the chair you sat in. The light of the world burned brighter as you did, feeling that embrace of warmth you felt the day you went under the water. It held you, close and tightly, muscular and strong. That beacon of hope.

That night was the best you had slept in your time there.

~~~

You woke up on your own time the next day, no women came in to change your clothes at the crack of dawn. But when did you get back in bed? You swore you fell asleep in Namor’s hut, on the chair near his table so, how?

You looked around, frantically searching for something that would prove last night was real and not just some extremely vivid dream.

There on the table a few feet away from you, lay a stack of books that had not been there the night before.A piece of neatly folded parchment and feathered quills scattered all around as you made your way to them.

Unfolding the paper as fast as you could, you began to read it.

‘For your boredom, translate a book’ it said in a neatly written hand.

You scanned the rest of the note, ancient unknown symbols translated into the english alphabet were written before you. Syllables that helped sound out each letter were written there too. You stared at it blankly.

Your knees wobbled, heart pounding in an emotion you could not describe. You held yourself up, placing one hand on the table as you slowly tried to translate the words written on the book before you.

Le Ujo’ it read.

The moon, La Luna.

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