Namor X Y/n - Tumblr Posts

Their concubine.

Pairing: Namor/K’ul’ku’kan x reader x Shuri, Namor/K’ul’ku’kan x Shuri

Part 2.

Warning: Infidelity M/f/f, polyamorous relationship, Dirty talk (in English and Yucatec Maya), Hickeys, Cockwarming, Creampie, Nipple play, Sweet nicknames, Pampering, love triangle, Choking, Beach Sex, Praise and degrading kink, Breeding kink, Masturbating, Cockdrunk, Spanking, Begging, Rough sex, Squirting, grammar mistakes?

Summary: You and your cousin Riri were invited to Princess Shuri's private wedding, once King Namor laid his eyes on you, he decided you will be his as well as his wife, you tried hard to say no but you couldn't resist the handsome god for long.

A/n: this is my first time writing for the MCU so be gentle with me lol, I might have focused more on Namor x reader but part 2 will be more of both. Sorry if it sucks.

You sat in awe of the beautiful wedding, your cousin was the maid of honor so you were left by yourself, Princess Shuri was gorgeous in her wedding dress and her groom was...you couldn't even describe his attractiveness. When you first saw his people you weren't shocked you mean there's a god of thunder and a purple alien so people who lived in the ocean weren't really that much of a shock at least to you, "Does anybody object?" the groom looked around as if daring anybody to say something, his dark chocolate orbs stopped on you with an emotion you couldn't read, a part of you wanted to turn around to see if he was actually looking at you but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more as when you sent an awkward smile towards him that seemed to snap him back and he looked back Shuri, with love in his eyes.

Everyone cheered, clapped, and hollered as the happy couple shared a deep passionate kiss, they pulled apart and faces their subjects "Wakanda forever! Líik’ik Talokan!" The Queen and king chanted to their people and their subjects repeated the only ones who didn't was you and Riri making you both feel out of place. the now-married couple began to walk to the after-party, and everyone followed soon after. You watch the sunset fall behind the ocean and the lights of the lanterns turn on with a drink in hand "Beautiful, isn't it?" a deep latin american accent called, you turned to look at who spoke and immediately froze as the handsome king walked up to you "Are you enjoying the party? " "it's amazing and yes it's more than beautiful" you answered hesitantly "What is your name, In hechicera? (My enchantress)” you rose your brow in confusion but told him anyways, He tested your name and oh the way it rolled off his tongue made a shiver ride up your spine before you ask for his.

"My people call me K’ul’ku’kan, My enemies call me Namor but you can call me In Ajaw'o," he smirked slyly "I want you as mine, my concubine." he spoke looking into your eyes with want and determination, you open your mouth to answer but luckily your phone ringed, saving you "I got to umm t-take this." you stutter, speed walking more like run away from Namor.

Namor softly chuckled as he watched you run away, how he can't wait to hear your pretty moans and cries for him, to hear his hips smack against your hips as your nails pierce his back, to see your lust and desperate-filled eyes begging him to use you, to please your king. You couldn't believe what just happened, you're pretty you know that but hot, attractive men barely looked at you twice and to have someone like him, who oozes dominance that you just want to submit to, allow him to do what he wished to do to you was overwhelming, to say the least. you quickly found your cousin, telling her you got to go. You thought that was the end of it but man you were wrong, it was a week after the wedding, and a necklace of silver chain with light blue, and darker blues jewels with a handwritten note on your doorstep,

' Encantadora (Enchantress) you have enchanted me with your beauty and I hope this will enhance you as you have me. I had it made by my finest jeweler, and the jewels hand-picked by me. I would love to see you adore it, in hechicera.-

- A Ajaw'o' (Your king)

You looked up past the trees to the ocean, and you wondered if he was watching. You looked back at the necklace 'fuck it' you took it inside and put it into your jewelry box. The next day another necklace arrived a gradient blue seashell with gold on the edge of it, this came with a note as well, his way with words was charmingly elegant, and gift after gift came, a row of seashells of silver and blue, a pair of earrings that wrapped around your earlobes and was shaped like a fish's side fins, seashells, and starfish covered the top and bottom of the fins, a long chain of pearls dangled down, the held colorful blue shell, it was the most beautiful of the jewelry he had sent to you "I-it's beautiful." you said in awe as you walked back into your home to put it were you kept the things Namor gifted you. You smiled then paused, this is wrong, you were openly letting princess Shuri's, your role model, husband court you if that was what he was doing. No, this couldn't continue the next gift you'll give back somehow.

You woke up bright and early, as expected another gift laid on your doormat but instead of jewelry it was a conch shell blue and white in color with a note beneath it

'Encantadora, if you wish to see me as I do, blow into this and lay it into the ocean and I will come to your call.

- A Ajaw'o'

'Huh, convenient.' you thought as you strutted your way back into your house and left the Conch Shell on your couch side table as you gathered a bag to put all his gifts, courting gifts? and begin to make your way to the beach, on the way millions of thoughts flew through your mind what struck you as odd is 'I don't what this to stop.' that almost made you pause in your step, but you finally made it 'ok all I have to do is blow this and put it into the ocean, I got this but how far?' you let the bag dropped to the sand, lifting the shell to your lips, you blew into as hard as you could, you need him to hear, and throw the shell into the ocean.

You paced back and forward, trying to gather your courage when a splash caught your attention, and your jaw dropped 'Lord, help me.' you watched as Namor walked out of the waves with short dark green shorts, a gold belt, and a neckpiece with a set of golden seashells and pearls wrapped around his neck, gold jeweled bracelets on his wrists and biceps. Namor pushed his hair out of his face, the sun shined upon him causing the water to make his brown skin seem like it was sparkling. You shut your mouth and gulped as you hyped yourself up "In hechicera. " Namor acknowledged "U-Umm I uh here!" you went to reach for the bag of jewelry but his hand stopped you and made you look up at him "Are my gifts not to your satisfaction?" He questioned, his thumb rubbing your chin "No they're absolutely beautiful but—" "Then why rejected me In yakunaj? (My Love) " he questioned again, his lips centimeter away, his dark eyes gazing into yours "I..i" you didn't want too but you wanted him, with your entire being, you wanted to feel what it was like to be fucked by a god it wouldn't hurt for a day right? You could just say no more after, yeah that's what you'll do.

"Please.." you whispered, Namor smirked and his lips laid upon yours, his hands on your waist pulling you against his hardening bulge. A whimper climbs its way out of you as his hot tongue explores your mouth, and your breathing became uneven when you felt his hand wrap around your nape and his other groping your ass. "Le mía, in jats'uts concubina." he whispered against your lips, moving on to kiss your shoulder and gently manhandle you to lay on the sand, you could feel yourself become wet, and your patience grows thin "Please, I need you!" you beg, bucking your hips against him"Yes? What does my concubine want?" he growled, biting and sucking your neck, "Fuck me, please I feel like I'll die if you don't," you whine, grinding your clothed cunt hard against his hard member.

"Toop (Fuck). take off your clothes." Namor hissed, his cock twitching to be inside of you. You happily do what he ordered, how can you say no to a king, a fucking hot ass king like him, you practically rip your shirt, bra, skirt, and underwear off, and your cheeks felt got as you watch what he'd do. Namor took a moment to admire you, your pussy was glistening with your arousal, your breasts move up and down for your heavy breathing, your eyes held desperation for him and your lips parted just a little bit, he wanted so badly to make your lips swollen with his kisses but he was a benignant king, he will make your wish come true. Namor spread his pre-cum down his cock to lubricate, making it a bit easier, he knew it might hurt, his cock wasn't average, he was thick and long but fuck he couldn't wait.

"Ready in yakunaj?" he smirked, his cock head nudging your drooling core, you only nodded with excitement, Namor chuckled and kissed you as he slide home, balls deep "Joder ti', jump'éel coño jach apretado, perfecto utia'al a ajawo'" He groaned in his native tongue "Fuck, such a tight pussy, perfect for your king." he translated, gritted his teeth as his skilled hips began to work. His pace was slow at first, letting you get used to him but that didn't last long, his dick drilled into you like no man has as if he'll never fuck another pussy, feral growls left him as he suck at your neck, marking you his, your moans and whines, his growls and groans, skin slapping was all you could hear.

You gasped, his mouth engulfing your hardened nipple, and his large hand hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock now hitting the ring of your cervix, fucking you into the sand"FUCK! Go-gonna cum!" you cried, tears in corner of your glossy orbs, "Cum, Encantadora ." Namor ordered after letting go of your nipple, his brown eyes locked with yours and like that you cummed making a mess on Namor's dick and the sand below you, Namor buried his face into your neck to muffle his loud groan as he thrusted hard, dumping his cum into you, filling every part of your walls. Namor took a moment to regain his senses before he slowly pulled out with a wetting pop that made you flustered as his and your cum came out like a river onto the already cum covered sand. "You are mine," he said slowly, with seriousness, you knew it was true, you were kidding yourself when you thought you could say no to this man "Yours," you replied, you knew this wouldn't last but fuck you'll enjoy well you can.

You thought your relationship was gonna be all about sex but it was more than that, even though he was busy as the king of Talocan and now Wakanda he still made time for you. He let you show him your likes and your dislikes, and hobbies, he let you cook your favorite foods for him, although he did not show you knew he liked it, he watched your favorite movies while you cuddled, your head under his chin and his strong arm wrapped around you. Your favorite moment is when you showed him 'the little mermaid', he said nothing but you could see he wanted to, wanting to respect your likes, but it wasn't one-sided he showed you dances of his people, showed you how to paint, and teach you some words of his native language, he even trusted you enough give you kimoyo beads that Princess Shuri updated that allow the wearer could visit talocan with a skin-tight suit but still able to protect them and he showed you how his people tamed whales, beautiful fish you ever thought you'd see up clos.

That night he made love to you, you tricked yourself into not seeing it that way but it was broken when on the edge of unconsciousness, he whispered that he loved you, he had fallen in love with you, and how you truly were an enchantress. You fall asleep with a smile, knowing he felt the same.

"In hechicera let's go for a swim, I want to show you something," Namor spoke catching your attention from your book "Ok let me get dressed" you smiled excited to see more of his world "What you have on is enough, let's go." he got up and made his way out the door with you rushing to keep up. The trip didn't take so long, you both stopped at a stone ring which Namor put his hands in, and suddenly a current of water appeared, Namor looked at you, a mischievous glint in his browns "wait no!—" you screamed as he grinned, taking your hand and swimming into the strong current, dragging you with him. You squeeze your eyes shut from fear, relaxing only a bit when you felt his muscular arms, protecting you. "Open your eyes" he whispered after you made it to your destination, hesitantly you opened your eyes and silently gasped, a beautiful city stands before you was this talocan? "let's go." he gestured as he swam to the city, you not far away.

As you both continue swam until you were in the capital city, you looked around you kids were playing, adults buying and selling stuff, and some even waved at you "Hola, mmm in wéetlail yéetel Teene' ichilo'ob teech ki'ichpam. (Hello umm me and my friends think you're beautiful)" A little girl came up to you and nervously looked back at her friends who were just as nervous, you gazed back at her friends with a soft smile and back at her "Hola yéetel Yo'olal ba'ax Nib óolal, teech xan teech ki'ichpam. (Hello, and why thank you, you're beautiful too)" you spoke softly. Namor watched on the sidelines as you interact with the children, asking their names and a thought crossed his mind, he wanted to see you like this with your children, to see you speaking softly to them and caring for them, then his thoughts dirty, he wanted to fuck your womb fill of cum, so much there would be no doubt you'd get pregnant, to see you swelling with his child, breed you time and time again, to hear you beg for it. He had to hurry and show his second surprise before he lost his control and composure, it seems only you and Shuri had a way to make him lose control of himself easily. "I have one thing more to show you." Namor informed "ok let's go" you replied before saying goodbye to the children.

You made it to his palace, it was more astounding than you imagined, you stopped in front of a clear box that was attached to the wall that had a brown door leading to a room, swimming into the box you looked at Namor curious but he smiles slyly and gestured for you to wait. The water started swirling around you and down a drain on the floor you didn't notice, it continued until no water was inside. You looked around shocked, your suit disappearing into your beads "there's more." he pointed to the door, and you took a breath and open the door, your jaw dropped as you walked into the room almost in a trance-like. The wall was a light blue, so light it was almost white, a king-sized bed stood against the middle of the wall, and a round headboard coral was decorated on the top, it looked so soft in front of the bed against the wall was a large wardrobe, a light oak brown in color, on the left wall was a beautiful vanity and bookshelves, with bean bags around the bookshelves and on the other walls was huge windows with white curtains, you step closer to the windows as colorful fish swim passed by. "How?" you asked in awe ""How" is never as important as "Why"." you turned to look at him "Why?" you questioned as you walk up to him "Because I have come to love you. I love you Encantadora." He started looking at you with such fondness, you could help but pull him into a heated kiss that lead to the bed and clothes being tossed.

"Such a slut for your god." Namor hissed when your heat welcome him, and you bounced on his dick, your nails digging into his muscular chest, leaving small angry crescent moons for everyone to see. "Please, not enough, more!" you cried with tears in your eyes as you quicken your pace, trying and failing to find the pleasure he can only bring, begging him to fuck you as not even you can do, Namor just smirked, planting his feet on the mattress and thrusted up, hard. Brushing that special spot and hitting your cervix, all thoughts left, and only his cock, his long, hard cock was on your mind and in your pussy, the only thing that mattered now. his thrusts were rapid, rough, and downright punishing. You yelped as he slapped your ass "What? Can't think? In puta tonta." he purred in his baritone voice, his eyes lusted and lidded as he suddenly got you onto your back, your legs to your chest, cock still inside you.

"Fuck." you panted as he pounded away, your nails running down his back "Yaan in tséentik in linda peek'o' reproductora, chup a seen u Ma'atech a sentirás vacía, a k'áat le je'elo'. Ba'ax tia'al ten a Ajaw." Namor grunted his hips smacking into your ass "Gonna breed my pretty breeding bitch, fill you so much that you'll never feel empty, do you want that? To serve your king?" he repeated in English, his accent even thicker, you let out a lewd moan at his words squeezing hard around him and feeling your climax coming, he spanked you as he asked again "Please let me to be filed with you." you slurred cockdrunk, eyes locked with his, body jerking from his thrusting. a snap of his hips had you squirting, absolutely drenching you and him the bed, his thrust became sloppy as he fulfilled his promise, his lips on yours in a kiss full of passion.

Shuri controlled her heavy breathing as she came around her fingers, watching as her husband fucked you like he hated you from the wardrobe, she waited for you both to fall asleep to leave. She needed to think of her next course of action.

Translation:

Le mía, in jats'uts concubina

Mine, my pretty concubine.

@namorkawaiiwife @opalinehart @savagemickey03 @caloetta @darkfairy102190 @nessa41890 @littlekidsteve @18lkpeters @plasticfantasticl0ver @galaxygirl453 @wint3r-h3art @omgsuperstarg @paranoiac-666 @notalwaysa @like-things-thatarentreal @psamathegoesrawr @gingermous @deliciousfestsalad @aiden-presscott @amyhennessyhouse

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — a prophecy has tied you to the feathered serpent god before you had even existed. now, it’s time to come home.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. possessive behavior. near death experience. smut; penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie (lots of cum bc i'm disgusting), breeding kink.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑❜𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — this has to be the most excited i've been for a fic in a long time 🥹 i had a blast including a little bit of my culture's superstitions and lore. my sincerest apologies for any inaccurate yucatec maya translations, i used a translator website. the song the reader sings is "daughter of the sea" by sharm. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 —

⁀➷ “anak” - child.

⁀➷ “po” - a respectful term with no direct translation used when talking to someone of higher rank than you such as elders or your boss.

⁀➷ “mag ingat ka” - “be careful.”

⁀➷ “ka’a suku’un u?” - “cousin?”

⁀➷ “ko’oten tin wéetel in kaxtik ti’ le ajawo.” - "come with me to find the king."

⁀➷ "in yakunaj" - "my love"

⁀➷ "in k'áaté" - my one and only.

⁀➷ "le ba'alo' leti'e" - that is her.

⁀➷ "bienvenido tin wotoch ti', in reina." - "welcome my queen."

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, the ocean was your safe haven.

While others strayed from its depths for fear of the unknown, of the creatures that could be lurking down there, you had always been curious to know. There had always been an itch that couldn’t quite be scratched when it came to your love for the water. You frequented your local beach nearly every day, wandering aimlessly until you grew tired. Unlike others your age, your life was one of solitude. To an extent, you were content with it, for the ocean was your companion. It never judged you and always welcomed you. It listened when you spoke, carrying your worries far from you never to be seen again.

Nowadays, to your heart’s discontent, the ocean was not enough.

You were lonely. Truly lonely and feeling what it was like to be so for the very first time in your life. There were nights you stared into the abyss; eyes watery as you wished to drown in it. To be embraced by the one thing that was consistent in your life. Would you feel less alone then?

─

From the deepest point of the very sea you gazed into, the heart of a God grew heavy. K’uk’ulkan loved his people, adored them with every fiber of his body. Each and every one of the faces of those he ruled, dead and alive, were imprinted in his soul permanently. Every step he took was taken with them in mind. He prided himself for being a good leader, for doing everything and anything possible to keep his nation safe. After the events leading up to the alliance with the Wakandans, however, he did not know if that pride was deserved. He had made mistakes; misplaced his trust and allowed two of his own to die right in their very home. Namora, as loyal as she was, began to question his decisions. He was alone in bearing this burden with no one to rest his head on at night from the heaviness of the day.

What pained him the most? He knew he shouldn’t be alone.

He recalled the day he and his mother had been read the prophecy when he was a child clearly. The emotions he felt upon hearing those words spoken into existence were still fresh. There was someone for him. Just for him, and him alone.

“For His fealty, the First Son of Talokan shall be given a gift from the Gods; a descendant from the Heavens, a child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress. For as long as He shall live, She shall rule the seas by His side.”

Years passed. Those years slowly faded into decades. After the passing of his beloved mother, it became difficult differentiating when those decades turned into centuries. Still, there were no signs of his soulmate. His people knew of the prophecy. K’uk’ulkan was all too aware of the anticipation his children felt as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their queen. Yet, she never came.

He grew angry at the so called Gods for turning on their promise – at her. Where was she? he’d hiss. My people, our people, have come dangerously close to being discovered. I have nearly died defending them all alone. My wings have been ripped from my flesh. Why isn’t she here? The prophecy meant nothing to him anymore. Just as he was naïve when he entrusted Princess Shuri with seeing his home, he was blindly foolish for believing in a fairytale.

Namor was without love in more ways than one.

─

You didn’t remember falling asleep. There was no explanation as to how you ended up perilously close to the edge of the water, the violent thrash of waves serving as a warning to you. Still, you remained completely still as fear immobilized you. You racked your brain for any recollections of your previous actions. Nothing came up. You couldn’t remember anything after you came home from the market.

Nothing, that is, aside from a single voice.

It cooed to you, whispered your name like it had waited a thousand millennia to taste it upon its tongue. Sang to you like you were its favorite person in the entire universe.

Come to me.

Come home.

In yakunaj.

In k’áate’.

Come home.

Taking a moment to steady your breathing, you slowly stepped away from the ledge before rushing back home. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you tried your best to bury what had just transpired. You sought out every possibility – rational and irrational – that could have resulted in your odd behavior. You always went to the beach, maybe you just wandered there after dinner out of habit. Perhaps something went wrong with the batch of your usual tea and an ingredient that causes cognitive dysfunction was accidentally added to it. Maybe tomorrow morning you will wake up to a news report about your batch being recalled from all stores.

The explanation you vied for never came.

As time persisted, so did the bouts of blacking out, regaining consciousness, and finding yourself near the ocean. Each time, you got closer and closer to its waters. Every day after the next, you would feel the fatigue in your muscles from all of the walking. And yet, it did not stop you. You always found your way back to the ocean. It didn’t matter if you walked into ongoing traffic or if a concerned neighbor physically restrained you, the pull was stronger. Shamefully, you began to avoid leaving your home altogether. You couldn’t bear to face the condemnatory looks you were bound to receive. Whatever those in your area thought of you, you didn’t want to know. You were afraid enough of what you were becoming.

When you wake up from the next spell, you were waist deep in the ocean. Shivering as your thin nightgown stuck to your skin. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you salvaged any and all body heat. The gravity of your circumstances hit you all at once. Biting your lip, you held back your tears as your turned around and began making your way out of the water hastily. Just as your bare feet touched the white sand, you caught the eyes of the elderly woman who lived closed by. The two of you had never spoken, but her presence as a resident was always acknowledged.

“Sorry, po,” You spoke sheepishly, a polite and apologetic smile on your face.

Her expression was grave as she stared at you wordlessly. Silence stretched between the both of you and just as you were about to walk away, she harshly spat one single word.

“Magindara.”

Before you could seek clarification, she was back inside her small hut, the door slamming behind her acrimoniously. The only proof that the interaction with her was even real was the residual sting of her hostility and rage. Her persecution was the straw to break the camel’s back. Unable to maintain your resolve any longer, you fell to your knees and began to you’re your hands clutching at your chest in hopes to alleviate the pain. Humiliation, terror, anxiousness, and frustration were just a few of the emotions you were feeling. Even then, they were just the tip of the iceberg. As you cried to yourself, sand sticking to your wet limbs uncomfortably, you longed for nothing but someone to wrap you up in their arms – for someone to tell you that for once, everything would be okay. Just this once, you craved a life outside of isolation.

Once your breathing evened out, you stood up and leisurely began to talk along the shore. Soothing yourself in the only way you knew how, you began to softly sing.

“Beware, beware the Daughter of the Sea. ‘Beware’ I heard him cry. His words carried upon the ocean breeze, as he sank beneath the tide.”

Namora watched acutely as the quill in her king’s hands abruptly dropped to the floor. The warrior waited for the moment he would pick it up off of the ground and continue with his painting, but it never came.

“K’uk’ulkan?”

She received no response. His eyes held an indecipherable expression, one far away from the present.

“Ka’a suku’un u?” Namora repeated, her tone now carrying concern.

The King of Talokan turned to her for a split second before he stormed out of the room with speed she had never witnessed from him before. Namora was hot on his feathered heels, but the second she dived into the water, her cousin was nowhere to be seen.

“Attuma!” She bellowed. “Ko’oten tin wéetel in kaxtik ti’ le ajawo.”

K’uk’ulkan was stunned when he first heard it – the most beautiful sound to grace his ears. He was livid with himself for being unable to find a better word to describe the voice, for “beautiful” was such an understatement that it was borderline insulting. Without hesitation, he followed it. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know where it was coming from or who it even belonged to, he needed to find it. It called to him, turned him into a man possessed as he soared through the waters restlessly to get to it.

His head broke the surface, and that’s when he saw its owner – her. His soulmate.

She was the most exquisite living being he had ever laid his eyes upon. A gift from the heavens she was. Her beauty made him dizzy, his knees growing weak as he took in his beloved’s features. He admired her as she outstretched her arms, cupping the moon in her delicate palms. It paled in comparison to her. Everything did. Nothing could possibly compare. He remained paralyzed as she continued to sing, a foreign feeling settling in his stomach.

“Why this? Why this, oh Daughter of the Sea? Why this? Why did you forget your seaside days? Always the pride of our nation’s eyes, how could she go astray?”

The words of her melody pierced his heart. They reflected their journey far too accurately to be a coincidence. Did she know that she had always been destined for him? To be loved by the entire nation of Talokan? His lids fell shut slowly as he basked in her harmonies, feeling tranquil at last.

“I heard, I heard, across the moonlit seas, the old voice warning me. Beware, beware, the Daughter of the Sea. Beware, beware…of me.”

Namor studied her face as her song ended. He noted her red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Her damp nightgown stuck to her body tantalizingly. The despair in her hypnotizing voice was palpable. All of the wrath and resentment he had once harbored dissipated. Oh, my love. I have longed for you too. He could do nothing as he watched you turn your back to him from above, only pray for another encounter. He rose entirely from the sea, the wings on his ankles fluttering in the air as he watched her in the sky until she was safe in her abode. A quiet splash could be heard from under him. Attuma and Namora stared up at him expectedly.

“Le ba’alo’ leti’e’.”

He nodded slowly, eyes burning holes in the spot where she once stood.

“A human?” Attuma questioned, his voice rigid.

Namor shook his head.

“’A child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress’.” Namor quoted the prophecy directly. “Bulan was a deity the heavens sent to the ocean to protect the moon from sea monsters. She is a siren; they are descendants of Bulan.”

“What is she doing on the surface?” Namora chimed in.

The king frowned, his fists clenching at his sides as he longed to feel her touch.

“She is lost.”  

─

Returning to the beach after the unpleasant encounter with the elderly woman who lived on its grounds probably wasn’t the most sensible decision. In your defense, however, nothing in your life was sensible nowadays.

Magindara was what she called you. A whole day’s worth of research, hundreds of Google searches, and several life crises later, you found out what it meant – siren. A subspecies of mermaids that were known for being especially vicious. You wanted to badly to laugh it off, to chuck it up to her being a senile old woman, but that was not an option. To do so would be like ignoring statistics. The facts of your life were laid out clearly; there was a connection between you and the ocean. A connection so strong that it bewitched you – mind, body, and soul. There were no traceable origins you could use to refute the woman’s claims. Afterall, you had no family. There was nothing more to do than return to the very place that could give you answers.

Your eyes darted everywhere in search of the familiar head of silvery locks. Once identified, you ran to her.

“Excuse me, po?” You called desperately, your eyes begging her for something. Anything. “What…what am I?”

She stared at you with a severe expression on her aged features.

“The man from the sea with wings on his ankles. Mag ingat ka, anak. He’s coming for you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Could you expla—”

“Do not come back here.” She warned. “He will drag you down with him.”

With that being said, she entered her home and slammed the door in your face for the second time. Vexation filled you as you were met with another dead end. A man from the sea with wings on his ankles. What the hell was that alluding to? Did the elderly have to always speak in riddles? Were you in danger? Why was he after you?

You dragged your feet as you trudged home dejectedly. You were already exhausted, not sleeping a wink once you returned home after your stint last night. Sleep was unfathomable considering you were haunted by unanswered questions. Once you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, however, you could no longer ignore your body’s need for rest. Flopping down on your bed, you shut your eyes and instantaneously succumbed to a peaceful slumber.

That night was the last time you slept in your own bed.

The beach was eerily quiet, void of the usual sound of waves crashing against the shore. Seemingly, the ocean yielded to you, it’s queen, the second you stepped foot in its territory, entranced and guided by a single voice.

Come home. Come to me.

Your feet carried you to a cliff high above the sparkling midnight waters.

My love. My soulmate.

Home. You needed to come home. It was time. 

Come home.

Just a couple of more steps.

Come home.

This is your destiny. Fulfill it. Fulfill the prophecy.

Come home.

With that, you took one final step off the cliff and prepared yourself to plunder into the deep waters. Your feet were only in the air for a brief moment before a pair of strong arms caught you midair. Upon physical contact, you snapped from your trance with a sharp gasp, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to panic.

A deep, gentle voice lulled you. It was then that you finally registered who it belonged to. The being who had saved you was the epitome is beauty. Everything about him exuded regality from the air of confidence and ease he carried himself with, to the adornments on his muscular body. A large gold and jade neck plate took up the most space on his expansive chest. Ropes of auriferous shells and opalescent-like pearls hung around his neck. Gilded cuffs were locked around his biceps, wrists, and ankles. You quickly noted the alabaster wings fluttering away attached to them, the very wings responsible for suspending the both of you in the air. Your eyes trailed to his delicately pointed ears, embellished with jewels just like the rest of him. The only clothing he sported was a pair of emerald shorts that left nothing to the imagination. The walls of muscle that were his thighs were on full display, the muscles of a man built to withstand the brutality of the ocean.

This was the man the elderly woman was speaking about. The man from the sea with feathers on his ankles.

That revelation should have scared you. Every alarm in your body should have gone off.

Escaping him should have been the only thing occupying your mind. You should have kicked and screamed until your throat was raw and bloody.

But you did no such thing.

Instead, it was the way he looked at you, gazing at you with the most intense smolder in his eyes that occupied your attention. He gazed at you with pure wonder, and held you delicately yet fiercely in his arms like you were the most precious thing in the entire world. Instinctively, you placed your hands on his bare chest, mindlessly tracing the dew drops sticking to his golden skin. The beautiful man shivered beneath your touch.

“500 years I have waited for you.” He whispered reverently.

Your mouth opened, prepared for a response that never came. Instead, your vision went dark.

─

You woke up to hushed voices and heedful, diligent hands. One set of hands languidly brushed your hair away from your face. Another daintily shimmied clothing onto your body once they were finished drying you off with the velvetiest cloth to ever touch your skin. The last set secured what you assumed was jewelry onto your wrists, neck, and ears. Upon opening your eyes, your assumption was correct. The dress on your body was stunning, embroidered with hundreds of crystalline beads. The jewels on your wrists alone were probably worth more than what you had made in your entire life.

The women who stood above you were unlike you had ever seen before. Their skin was a brilliant shade of cerulean. Vibrant, yet pleasantly understated. Masks covered their mouths and noses, but you could still see the bright smiles behind them.

“Hello,” You greeted shyly. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Each of them let out a small cry, their eyes welling up with tears as they bowed earnestly.

“Bienvenido tin wotoch ti’, in reina.” They spoke warmly in unison, forming a gesture with their hands at you respectfully. Their mother tongue was foreign to you, but not for long. As if you had spoken it your entire life, your mind made quick work of interpreting it.

Welcome home, my queen.

Once again, you were puzzled. You had no idea where you were or who exactly that man was and why he had taken you here. You obviously hadn’t a single inkling as to what he meant by “500 years I have waited for you”. Now, these women were calling you their queen in a language you had never heard your entire life but somehow had the ability to understand perfectly.

The sound of feet pattering lightly gradually got closer and closer until the man of the hour stood before you at the foot of the bed. The women attending to you immediately turned their attention to him, bowing and forming the same hand gesture you had seen moments ago. He looked just as regal still, now adorned in a cape tucked into golden plates of armor on his shoulders. He regarded them gratefully.

“Leave us, my children. Thank you.”

They bowed to you both once more before swiftly making themselves haste. You now had his undivided attention.

“I hope you slept well. The healers said showed signs of exhaustion.”

“I—” You cleared your throat nervously. “I did, thank you.”

The barest hint of a smile graced his features. With graceful and controlled movements, he poured water into a glass and handed it to you.

“Do not be nervous.” He spoke lowly. “Speak freely.”

“Thank you.” You squeaked out again, taking a generous gulp of water before speaking again. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“My people call me K’uk’ulkan. To my enemies, I am Namor. You are in our kingdom – Talokan.”

The water got caught in your throat mid swallow, causing you to cough obnoxiously. The man who you now knew as K’uk’ulkan, discreetly smiled to himself as if this was a reaction he had anticipated. Before you could blurt out another string of questions, he held his hand out to you.

“Come. I will remedy all of your concerns.”

As if you had done so a million times, you placed your hand in his and stood by his side. Namor lead the both of you through a series of corridors. Your eyes took in your surroundings with pure astonishment. Cavern seemed to be a secluded corner for the king, crystal waters surrounding its premises. Bits of glittery minerals were embedded into the sediment walls. An air of serenity blanketed the entire area.

From the corner of his eye, Namor gaged your reactions, his heart so full of unfiltered adoration that it felt like it would explode in his chest. His hand was still tightly clutched in yours like it was second nature. Subconsciously, you had drawn your body closer to his. He was a meticulous man of control and strategy, but at that very moment, K’uk’ulkan wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and kiss you breathlessly. The moment was cut short when you reached his study. He offered you a seat at his desk, drawing the door shut behind him for privacy. It didn’t take long for you to deduce that the murals painted on the walls were ones depicting the history of Talokan.

“Centuries ago, my people took an herb that allowed them to survive underwater. The herb was infused with vibranium. We are the only nation aside from Wakanda to possess it.” He began, his hands tracing over a painting of a beautiful woman cradling an infant. “My mother was pregnant with me when she ingested it. That is why I am the way I am – why I am the only one out of my people that can survive on both land and underwater, fly, and age slower than the rest. For this, they made me their king. Their god.”

You listened intently, fascinated by the discovery that they had remained a secret for this long.

“There was a prophecy made shortly after my birth. The gods promised me a soulmate.”

Turning around to face you, he bore his soul to yours through his eyes as he read the prophecy to you. With each word that fell from his lips, the world around you spun quicker and quicker. It made sense. It all made sense.

“I gave up on the idea of the prophecy coming true as time passed. In yakunaj, when you have lived as long as I have, seen as much as I have, happy endings are nothing but meaningless fallacies. But then, that night came…the night I heard you sing for the first time.”

He approached you slowly, cautiously like a wild animal that would take flight if startled by any sudden movements. What happened next made your eyes fill with tears; he knelt before you. This man – a king, a god – surrendered to you with no hesitation.

“I have finally found you…” He breathed, his orbs shining with devotion. “You are home. Why do you think you have no family? No one to trace your roots back to? You were made for me. Mine.”

Your face fell in between the palms of your hands as you wept. Quickly, your hands were replaced by his. He held your face in his hands like he was holding the entire world, the pads of his thumbs gently brushing away your tears.

“Why the tears, my love?”

You shook your head, placing your hands on top of his. The spark you felt every time the two of you touched could no longer be ignored.

“Why did they just now bring us together?” You cried. “We’ve both been alone for all this time, how could they not do something about it!”

“Shhh,” Namor cooed. “You think I have not been angry with them, my sweet? I have held myself back from tearing their skies and oceans apart just to find you. But what I feel for you right now in this very moment? That feeling will always win.”

The both of you said nothing more, for there was nothing that needed to be said. Your long lost love held you in his arms as you liberated yourself from what felt like decades of anguish. His grip never faltered even as you gripped his flesh hard enough to draw blood. Instead, he soothingly rocked you as he recounted the stories of his people’s origins. Talokan was a clandestine national treasure, one of the only things on the earth that had not been bastardized. That was all the doing of this wonderful being who had been promised to you.

“They were wrong about you. Your name.” You whispered. “You’re not without love, quite the opposite actually. The actions you have taken, the lengths you have gone to protect your people and your home, are ones of a man consumed with nothing but love. You can see it in how happy they are.”

With cautious hands, you caressed his cheeks. He preened against your touch, melting right into your palms. The world would never see the stoic warrior king falter, but already, you had him firmly wound around your finger. He could sit there for hours soaking in your ardor.

“Our home. Our people.” Namor corrected. “They can’t wait to meet you.”

Lovingly, he pressed his forehead to yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his.

“Are you ready to meet them?”

He observed endearingly as your eyes widened as large as flying saucers as you nodded overzealously, a giggle tumbling from your lips. K’uk’ulkan noted once more how full of love he felt. He wondered if this was what your lives together would consist of, overcome with all of the possibilities. Was adoring you more than he did in this moment even conceivable? When your smile faltered slightly, worry filled him.

“I’ve never seen…myself.”

“I am honored to be the first to see your true form.”

The two of you stood, walking hand in hand out of his personal study and to the outermost cove surrounded with the most water. Inhaling shakily, you eyed what awaited below you with apprehension. You were not human, far from it, and yet it felt as if you and your true form were worlds apart. Namor was silent. He knew this was something you needed to do alone. The only form of assurance offered to you was a look of encouragement.

Slowly, you dipped one foot into the water and allowed the other to follow. Keeping your eyes closed, you focused on your heart rate as your body adroitly descended into the abyss of the sea. You could have easily fallen asleep if it weren’t for a tingly sensation disrupting your peace. It started small, gradually winding around you until all at once, currents of electricity bolted through your limbs. Instinctively, your lungs expanded, and you took your first gulp of air underwater. You ripped your eyes open in bewilderment when you didn’t choke on water. The clear-cut view you had of your surroundings despite no sources of light being near further consolidated your shock. A noise akin to a squeak and gasp escaped your lips and before you knew it, you were cutting through the waters with newfound ease until your head broke the surface.

Namor would have given everything to his name to capture the sight before him. There you were, beaming at him with unrivaled radiance. He stopped breathing when you lifted your tail out of the water. Just when he thought you could not be any more magnificent than you already were, you defied his expectations. The scales covering the muscle were a range of shades of lapis lazuli, emerald, and gold. Towards the tips of your forked fin, they all blended into a rich shade of dark indigo. Your torso was bare but hidden behind your locks as they cascaded over your breasts. Namor could have gawked at you for hours if it weren’t for you playfully flicking water at his face. He felt light and dream-like as your melodious laughter echoed through the cavern. He decided then and there that your laughter was his favorite song. The scowl permanently etched onto his face fell. In its place, a smile so wide it hurt spawned. For the first time in centuries, he laughed so hard his abdomen hurt.

Powerless to his desires, he dove into the water after you, finding shelter in your embrace once more. Intuitively, your tail curled around one of his legs. He submerged the two of you back into the water and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours. Skin to skin, naked chests were tightly pressed against each other, your arms locked around his neck as your mouths feverishly meshed against one another. A barely audible moan slipped from your mouth right into his as his tongue pushed passed your lips. Namor voiced his pleasure with a low rumble from his chest. Pathetically, you could cry again right then and there. How could you have gone without this your whole life?

A loud clearing of the throat caused you both to cease your ministrations. Namor was anything but sorry as he pulled away with the softest expression you had seen on his face thus far. He regarded the two individuals standing in front of you – a hulking man with long inky tresses and an ornate headpiece resembling the skull of a hammerhead shark and a fierce looking woman with a feathered lionfish-esque headdress. Though both clearly high up in the royal ranks with a cutthroat reputation to uphold, they studied you and Namor with mischief.

“K’uk’alkan, they are waiting for her.” The man spoke.

“You might want to put this on before you go.” Spoke the woman, pulling an opulent bra top from behind her back and extending it towards you.

The state of undress you were in hit you like a bus. Your face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment, your lover pressing a tender kiss to your heated cheek. Tactfully, he maneuvered you away from the eyes of the warrior you now knew was Attuma. The woman, his cousin and second in command named Namora, expertly laced you into the garment.

“That was so embarrassing,” You mumbled to yourself once your modesty was secured.

Namor cracked a hint of a smirk.

“Attuma and my cousin expected nothing less from us. Now, shall we?”

─

Talokan was a magnificent sight. The agriculture was impressive, the vibranium rich soil working wonders for the crops. Sea creatures from colossal sized sea turtles, lengthy luminescent jellyfish of different colors, lively fish, and enormous whales to start were one with the Talokanil, peacefully existing with one another. The treatment you received from everyone was something you would never get used to. Despite not knowing you, they acknowledged you as if they had known you their entire lives. K reina perdida they called you with earnest smiles and misty eyes. Our lost queen.

But you were no longer lost.

It was evident in the way the orcas sang with you as you glided through the waters, seemingly understanding you in a way no one else could. Namor’s soul was finally content after seeing you swim freely, laughing so hard your stomach hurt as a couple of toddlers crawled around on your tail. His people loved you. Just as he thought they would. And you fit right in just as you were meant to. With further exploration of your physiology, the two of you discovered that like Namor, you could survive both underwater and on the surface, donning a set of legs seamlessly upon contact with land. Your strength, speed, and agility matched up perfectly with his. For hours, he chased you through the ocean, the both of you weaving in and out between walls of coral and tall beds of seaweed with dexterity. You truly were made for him.

A week later, you were officially crowned their queen. You and Namor ended the celebration with an intimate wedding ceremony in the cavern. After years of going without each other, neither of you had the patience to wait for a union on a grander scale. You both were enough – you would always be enough. And as he laid your bare body across the bed he occupied by himself for half a millennium, he was confident in that conviction.

You felt dizzy as he pressed his hard bulge against your core. The most heavenly noise to grace your ears came out of your now husband when you raised your hips to grind against it. Your hands liberally roamed his chest, now stripped of his jewels, before slithering to his robust back. Your nails drew tiny half moons as they dug into his flesh when his lips made their way to the column of your neck. The decorum of countenance he upheld was nowhere to be found as he ravaged your breasts with his mouth, lightly tugging your erect nipple between his teeth before he began to suckle. You cried out pathetically. His lips twitched, umber orbs now staring up at you with lust.

“You are so noisy for me,” He purred. “I have not even touched the most sensitive parts of your body yet.”

“Please,” You breathed. “Please, I need you,”

Namor made his way down your body, leaving no part of you untouched by his lips. Deftly, he gripped your thighs and place both of your legs over his shoulders. Gently, he kissed your dripping core.

“You have me, my love. Always.” 

His mouth took you straight to heaven. He devoured you like a man starved, tongue flicking your nub of nerves tirelessly with precision. Your thighs were already trembling, but he had just gotten started. Your orgasm crept up on you, the strongest one you had ever experienced. It left you heaving with your back arched off of the bed, unable to do anything besides chant his name like a mantra. But your beloved’s ministrations did not cease. He continued working at your core, now swollen and glistening from your juices and his spit. The second orgasm built up slowly, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each time he sucked your clit. The final straw was when you noticed his hips gyrating. He was pleasuring himself while pleasuring you. This time when you came on your lover’s tongue, no words or sounds were able to slip passed your mouth. You were quite literally speechless.

With a satisfied moan, he lapped up the rest of your arousal, cooing to you as you quivered and whimpered from hypersensitivity. His scorching body covered yours once more, his lips familiarizing themselves with yours. Namor held you tightly against him, whispering sweet nothings against your lips as you steadied your breathing. It wasn’t long before you felt the head of his cock prodding your entrance. Gripping your face firmly, he forced your eyes open. The frenzied look in his eyes as he languidly sunk into you alone could have made you come for the third time that night. But alas, the universe was on your side. Instead, you savored that moment – the feeling of him. Every inch, every vein, ingrained into your memories for as long as you shall live.

“You feel incredible.” Namor panted, now beginning to steadily thrust. “You truly were made for me.”

You could only respond with wanton cries, too consumed with desire. The king began to piston in and out of you until he was fully pounding you into your marital bed.

“Namor!”

He grunted into your ear, pulling out of you for a brief moment to flip you onto your stomach. He plunged back into you and picked up right where he left off. This time, however, he was brutal with the punctuality of his thrusts.

“Am I your enemy, wife?” He taunted. “Are you even worthy of any mercy I have to spare?”

At this point, you could not even recognize the sounds you were making. They were debauched. Depraved. Combined with rhythmic percussion of skin against skin and the squelch of your wet cunt each time Namor entered you, the song you two orchestrated was one only for the lecherous.

“K’uk’ulkan,” You barely managed to murmur. “I’m s-so close, you make me feel so good,”

He hummed satisfactorily, driving into you even faster.

“You are, aren’t you, my sweet? That’s it, sing for me. Take my seed. Carry my children.”

“Please!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock. Please come in me,”

With a shout and one final thrust, he released in you. Rope after rope, he filled you with his cum with proclamations of everlasting love on the tip of his tongue. His cock remained nestled deep within you as you both descended from your highs, keeping his spent from spilling. He shuddered at the image of you round and radiant carrying his child and just like that, he was hardening inside you once more. As you lay there, thoroughly cock drunk, he began to pull out of you and slowly push back in. This time, he was tender and gentle, unhurriedly focused on taking you apart for one final time that night. The two of you had centuries left together. There was no need to rush. Then again, Namor could live another 500 years with you by his side and still feel like it was not enough. He needed you forever, and then some.

“I love you,” He whispered against the blade of your shoulder. “You are everything.”

The next morning you would wake to the sight of your husband painting a new mural. One of a beautiful woman with the upper body of a human, and the lower body of a fish. By her side, a man with ears that pointed to the skies and wings on his ankles, their eyes locked and hands intertwined.

The beginning of your story.

Sweet like mango

Namor x goddess!reader fluff

Summary: You had always remained loyal to your promise to stay ashore, despite a certain god’s best attempts to persuade you otherwise

1.6k words

Warnings: slightly suggestive at some points. Other than that pure fluff

Author’s note- The reader is a woman of color implied to be of a browner skin complexion. The place she rules is a made up country in the Caribbean Sea.

You never grew tired of this.

The long pathways of sand that stretched far around the coast of the island, tucked underneath the shade of many trees. The sleek texture of the leaves beneath your fingers as you foraged for any fruit that would be viable. The feeling of his gaze as you went about your tasks.

It was your job to look after the resources of your people, a people that dwelled on an island safe from the hands of the outside world. One much like the African nation of Wakanda, hidden to all outsiders; though that never stop him from coming. Everyday you’d stroll around the shores of your quaint island and everyday he’d make it a point to see you: It was from him that you even knew what Wakanda was. You weren’t the kind of goddess to meddle in the business of other nations, so a lot of your knowledge about the outside world was through what he told you. On his visits he’d bring stories of foreign lands along with more gifts than you could manage. Necklaces, gold, Talokan’s finest pearls littered your hut. Despite your best efforts, he insisted you accept his gifts and you never had the heart to turn them away. He liked to jest that one day he’d bring enough jewels to fill up your entire island, to let anyone who sailed by know just how much he cared for you.

“Must you always watch from the waters?” Your voice broke the air in what sounded like but a whisper. You stood just off the edge of the sand, waves flowing gently at your shores and making ripples as they returned to the ocean. He was there and you were sure of it. A gentle breeze made its way through the trees, taking pieces of your knit skirt with it. Comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you waited for him to reveal himself and it wasn’t long before he did. He heard you, he always did. His black hair stuck to his face as he rose from the waters, bronzed and covered in heavy jewelry. Before you was K'uk'ulkan in all his glory.

“Ma'lob Ja'atskab K'iin, in yakunaj” (Good morning, my love)

He knew you couldn’t understand what he was saying and yet he refused to stop speaking his language to you. Maybe the absence of understanding was apart of why he did it. Maybe it allowed him to be comfortable saying the things he wouldn’t dare slip off his tongue if he knew you’d understand.

“K'uk'ulkan”. His name fell from your mouth with ease, the way it had thousands of times before. You never tired of seeing your water god, not when he came to your shores looking the way he did. Namor sauntered slowly up to you with a small brown box cradled in between his fingers. Those green shorts left little to the imagination, not that you were complaining.

“How have you been” he asked genuinely, eyes finding yours as he slides his had gingerly around your waist. His fingers moved cautiously around the gems of your waist beads, testing how far you’d let him get as if he had never touched you before. It wasn’t until he was close enough that you could see the state he was in. Battered, bruised, littered in cuts.

He hadn’t visited you in a week which was unlike him. In the event that his duties as king would tear him from you for longer than he liked, he would always make sure you knew. Worry crept up your spine when he hadn’t paid you a visit in 3 days time and you waited desperately for any sort of sign. A smoke signal, a message in a bottle, anything, but nothing ever came. You suspected something dubious was going on with him. Your suspicion was correct.

“What happened to you”

You saw the way his eyebrows raised slightly, as if he didn’t expect you to ask.

“What would it matter if I told you, in yakunaj”

“You leave without a trace in the ocean and you expect me to not want answers? Do you think just because you’ve returned that I’m not owed an explanation?”

You had a point, he couldn’t deny.

“I had a run in with the Wakandans, their new queen is a formidable warrior. I have done things I don’t know if I’m proud of. Things I’d rather not tell in fear you would look at me differently”.

“Does war follow your actions K'uk'ulkan?” You had to know your chances of loosing him. The brown in his eyes soften as he gazed upon you, his hands gripping your waist with more force as if he’s scared you’ll blow away with the wind. The sun made the brown of your skin dance beneath his finger tips, a sight he wouldn’t trade for the world. To him, your beauty could not be matched by any woman, land or sea.

“Not anytime in the near future. Not with the Wakandans. Despite my wrongdoings I have secured an ally for Talokan”. His response seemed to calm you and he took notice of this. As much as you tried to deny it, you did have feelings for him.

This encouraged him to lean into the dip of your neck, inhaling your scent. Honey and mangos with a hint of cinnamon, a smell he would burn into every fiber of his brain had the heavens above allowed it. Opening the box he slowly removed its contents, a beautiful Amber necklace with a pendant surrounded by Talokanil pearls. You didn’t flinch as his wet hands turned you away from him, moving to clip the necklace on with ease. You saw the admiration in his eyes as he scanned down the valley of your breast to look at where the necklace rested. It was beautiful against your complexion and sat comfortably on the knit bra like top you wore. To colonizers your dress was primitive, to him, it was beauty in it’s purest form.

“I count every hour until I am able to see you again. Will you not return to Talokan with me to save me of the pain of having to live without you”.

Would you go with him? You truly didn’t know. Your duty was to your people, to your island, who were you to abandon them? The gods had given you life to serve the islanders and your power of growing plants on a whim served the people well. At a moments notice you could conjure up rows of fruit trees to feed the village. Despite this, you couldn’t help your mind when it wondered to thoughts about what it would be like being his queen. Adored by him and his people. He had walls covered in tapestry depicting you, what would it be like to wake up to them in his embrace every morning? The feeling of him kissing up the side of your neck pulled you out of your thoughts. As much as you’d love to spend every waking moment like this, you knew it wasn’t possible.

“We both know that cannot happen. I have a duty to my people and yours deserve a queen that is one of them”. The words left your mouth so quietly you had to second guess if you had actually said them. His response assured you that you did. That wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“What would lead you to think you are not one of us? You can breathe water like us, swim like us, eat like us. I’d never let the name Namor come from you, is that not testament enough to your place in my life?”

“I am neither your enemy nor your people, what am I to call you? Surely the better of the two names”

“In yakunaj would suffice”. A smile graced his face as he pulled away from your neck. Watching as small purple bruises burned into the brown of your neck.

“I will not call you a name if I don’t know what it means”

“And yet you call me K'uk'ulkan without a care in the world. Do you trust that it’s meaning is good? Or is it that you trust me, lòol (flower)”

In all honesty, you didn’t have an answer. He must have taken your silence as confirmation of your trust as he worked to push you up against the mango tree behind the two of you. He did it with more force than intended but you were quick to catch the mango as it fell, not without accidentally bruising it. It’s juices flowed onto your hands and covered you fingers with its sticky substance. Namor’s eyes darkened as he watched you attempt to clean the mango’s residue from your hands after placing it to the ground. He gently gripped your hand and brought it up to his mouth, eyes meeting yours. He began to slowly suck the juices from your skin in a way that set your body a blaze. Everything about the scene was seductive and you enjoyed it more than you felt you should have. You tried your best to mask the shock as he slowly dropped to his knees before you.

“Maybe I need to use a different approach to make you change your mind”

husband namor headcanons

Namor is the most loyal and devoted husband. He would do anything for you. To see you smile. It is a gift in his life to make you happy

Want a massage? He'll do it. Want a drink? He'll get or make you one. Want the entire world? He would make sure to make it happen.

He never lies to you. If he has a problem, he'll always let you know. Though that doesn't happen often cause he sees you as the most perfect woman he's ever held.

You guys would make sure to take some time outside of royal duties to spend time together. After all, a husband who is a king has to treat you like royalty as his queen.

Namor would 100% wanna have kids with you. But he would never pressure you into having them unless you felt ready to. He'd rub over your stomach sometimes, just imagining a little version of the two of you combined laying in there.

He would endure your bad jokes:

"What do you call a fake koi fish?"

"Well... a fish?"

"A de koi!"

Namor proceeds to tackle you and lay on top of you for 10 minutes to assert his dominance.

He would teach you how to paint and would guide your hand as you painted along the walls.

He would also teach you Yucatec Mayan if you were from the surface world. He was so excited when he found out you were eager to learn it.

If anyone said anything wrong about you, he would defend you every time. Namor is just as loyal to you as his husband.

If you were on your period, he would 100% be by your side the whole time and get you anything you needed.

Namor would shower you with gifts since you had him wrapped around your finger. He is just so down bad for you.

Namor Aesthetic Board

Holy shit... I just made my very first aesthetic/ character moodboard. Damn.. that means you, aguapapi, are even more special than cap daddy. Move over nomad steve, there’s a new boi in town 😌.

P.S: those of you who encounter this post and decide to repost, like or reblog, i would like to thank you so so much for doing so! Sending you virtual loves and hugs. Should I do more? 

It has been 3 weeks after watching Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and that scene... THAT SCENE y’allllll it still stuck and kept replaying at the back of my mind whenever I listen to Con La Brisa..... before y’all come shittin’ on me, here me out, it’s not everyday a king of an underwater empire shows you his hidden empire when they just met likeee...who knew the antagonist can be such a romantic at heart if their situation were to be put upon different context, i.e: no conflict or such. Then he proceeds to kill the her mom and shit just escalates to hell and ruins the vibe. But thank god it didn’t happen though, or else it’d be very odd. 

Brb lemme just replace Shuri’s position with myself.. lol 

YO AGUA PAPI PLEASE WHISK ME AWAY TO TALOKAN AND LET ME BE YOUR QUEEN!!! I’D DO ANYTHING YOU SAYYY

CEO!Namor Aesthetic Board

We backk baybyeeee with another Namor aesthetic board, and I made CEO! namor instead. I’ve designed quite a few and can not wait to show all of them to you. Enjoy this one y’all! 

P.S: if you still stick around reposting, liking and all that jazz, I’m sending hugs, kisses and loves for you all and stick around for more

CEO! Namor/ Tenoch x Girlboss! Reader Aesthetic Board

Helloww everyoneee!!!! I’m back again with another CEO!Namor/ Tenoch moodboard. I can’t get enough of making one of these as I really enjoy creating them, especially the AU! tropes. There’s still more to come! So stick around for more AU! tropes 😉

Thank you so much if you still linger around for liking, reblogging and all that jazz. I’m sending you all lots and lots and lottssss of virtual hugs, kisses and lovesss

this is so sad and beautifully written! My heart was so heavy and i was ugly crying when i read this coz it's so melancholy ... gurll i love this! I LOVE ITTT 😭😭

hi! LOL i came here as soon as u said u were writing for namor (ur so right, he's so fine 🫡)

reader's niece/nephew visits yn's place of work, who's a marine biologist, & spots namor on the beach from time to time! they tell yn all about the "flying man" & has actually made contact w/ namor (b/c... idk the kid's adorable!!), but yn only believes this to be her imaginary friend until they join their niece/nephew on the beach & see him ??? idk if it makes sense 💕

doctor - n.

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: visiting your sister in yucatán, your niece brings you to the shore where a winged man awaits.

word count: 7783

tw: curse words??

a/n: thank you so much for requesting this bc ive been meaning to write something very similar to this ever since i saw wakanda forever!!! btw i tried to make the reader’s race indistinguishable so anyone can read this and enjoy it.  i know there’s been stuff said on here ab white authors writing for namor so if anyone has any issues with anything i wrote here please let me know so i can address it and fix it!! thanks and i hope u enjoy :) (also this is kind of an AU where namor doesn’t give his mother’s bracelet to shuri!)

“HELLO?” YOU CALLED, POKING your head into the ajar door of your sister’s house. Even though back home in Florida the sun was strong, something about the sun in your sister’s home burnt your skin like no other, painting it with warmth as you walked up to her door. “Anyone home?”

Your older sister had moved to Yucatàn with her husband after they married, meaning you often had the privilege of making the trip down into Mexico to not only spend time with your niece, but to work. Your sister often didn’t like it when you took your work as a marine biologist with you when you stayed at her house, but something about being in the Gulf made it almost irresistible to continue your studies. Or maybe you just liked the beach a lot.

“Tía Y/N!” came the squealing voice of your young niece, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps from the floor above. Before you knew it, bright blue sandals were flying down the steps and before you, following by two arms tightly wrapping around your waist. “Hi, hi, hi, hi!”

“Y/N!” came another voice; your sister, her tank top pink and sticking to her skin from the heat. Swiping her ponytail behind her shoulder, her lips curved up into a sweet smile as she descended from the steps. “I wasn’t expecting you until noon?”

“Traffic was light,” you told her, releasing your niece from her hug and accepting that she wouldn’t let go of your waist. “I meant to text you but I kept catching the green lights so I didn’t get a chance to.”

“No problem. Did you want something to eat?” she gave you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “I was just making this little one some lunch to take with us to the beach.”

“Wait until I show you my new surf board!” the young girl who was still latched around your waist said. “I’m getting really good. The flying man says so, too.”

“Oh, enough of that, mija,” your sister clicked her tongue. You, on the other hand, lifted a brow and sent your sister a look. “She keeps talking about this man with wings on his ankles that said she was a good surfer.”

“He did say so,” the young girl insisted. Your sister rolled her eyes. “He did, mamá! I almost fell off of my board after this huuuuge wave came but the flying man saved me so I didn’t get lost in the current! Tía, you believe me, right?”

“Oh, of course I do,” you grinned, squatting down and tucking the young girl’s hair behind her ears. Your sister shook her head to herself. “In fact, I’d love to meet this flying man!”

“Come to the beach with us so you can?” your sister offered. “You can unpack everything later. I’ll pack you a lunch.”

“Sure,” you smiled, and your niece let out a cheer before bolting up the steps, presumable to continue getting ready. You followed your sister into the kitchen, where she was putting freshly peeled oranges into a plastic container to be brought to the beach. “What’s this flying-man-talk about?”

“She keeps saying this man with wings on his ankles helped her the other day,” your sister heaved a great sight. “I spoke about it to one of the ladies in the neighborhood, and she called him un demonio, a demon, and then the other lady called him un dios serpiente emplumada, so I’m getting mixed messages.”

“A feathered-serpent god?” you surmised. “Weird. You think she’s making it up, or...?”

“Oh, she’s making him up for sure,” your sister scoffed. “She was having some drama with her girlfriends... she’s feeling lonely, I think. She probably read something about a flying man in one of those books she’s always reading and went along with it.”

“Poor thing,” you mused. “At least she’s got a good imagination.”

“How’s work going for you?” she asked, opening the fridge. “I have some papadzules leftover from dinner last night, you okay with me packing that for you?”

“Absolutely,” your stomach growled. “I’ll eat one now, too, if you’ve got one for me. And work is fine, with the exception that everyone I work with hates women.”

“Here,” she handed you one of the papadzules, and you hastily shoved it into your mouth, hungry from the long drive from the airport. “I’m sorry. Men suck.”

“We teamed up with the archaeology department, because we were noticing some weird changes in the marine life right off the coast and they had just found traces of some weird metals in the Pacific, right?” you explained, your voice muffled from the food stuffed in your mouth. “And they didn’t want me presenting my research because it was, maybe not as accurate as our most recent work from Dr. Ryan-fucking-Bernstein. What a dick!”

“Yeah, seriously,” your sister sympathized with you. She worked as a real estate agent, and the men in her office were some of the worst either of you had seen. “Makes dating hard, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes. “How’s it going here?”

“Oh, the usual,” she said simply. “My little one’s going into her last year of primaria, so I’m feeling like time is slipping away. But she’s been surfing almost every day, keeping herself occupied, making me hope she’ll stay here forever.”

“You sound like mom,” you joked, snatching a slice of orange from her. “Let me put my bathing suit on and then we’ll head down.”

---

THE DAY AT THE BEACH turned into an evening at the beach, and your dear niece was beginning to get impatient with the flying man. She kept screaming out into the water, her friends giggling at her as she did so, and turning to you to promise that he would show up.

“I’m not lying, Tía,” she’d tell you. “He’s real!”

“Mija, it’s getting late,” your sister called once the sun had set and the beach began to empty out. “And cold.”

“No!” the young girl cried. “Just ten more minutes? Please?”

“I got her,” you reassured your sister. “I’ll take her back.”

“Okay,” your sister said reluctantly. “Fine. Don’t be too long or dinner will get cold.”

Your sister packed up all of the things the three of you brought to the beach and spared you one last glance before heading off, shaking the sand off of her sandals once she reached the concrete of the road. You wrapped your arms around yourself, knees tucked to your chest as you watched the tide cover your feet before retreating. Your niece, bless her heart, was still standing, pacing back and forth in front of the tide. 

You noticed the tide beginning to recede, and you sighed, checking your watch. It was eight o’clock, now, and you were brainstorming a way to tell your niece it was time to go in a gentle way. You drew circles in the sand, hoping she’d let go of this imaginary friend nonsense soon; she was old enough, wasn’t she? She was ten years-old, at some point she had to--

“I told you!” you heard her say, and you almost thought you had made it up. “Look, look, there he is!”

You tilted your head up, looking out into the horizon, and sure enough, you saw someone in the water. You couldn’t see any other features other than his tall height from so far away, but as he drew nearer you noticed first the glimmering golden jewelry adorned upon his neck and chest. The broad shoulders next. Then the pointed ears.

“Hi!” your niece waved, but you grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to you as you got to your feet.

“Mija, you’ve spoken to this man?” you said hastily, growing more and more weary of the man of the ocean. Your niece was bouncing on her toes and grinning.

“Yes, he told me I was a good surfer, remember?” she said matter-of-factly. “I told him I’d bring my tía to meet him and I knew he’d show up!”

Maybe it was the light that made him look so threatening, you thought. He was closer now, the water at his knees and revealing the short emerald trunks he wore, the gold cuffs on his arms and wrists, the glittering belt around his waist. Your heart was pounding, but you weren’t sure if it was from your fear of him or your reluctant attraction toward him.

By the time he was practically in front of you, you had pulled your niece behind you. She wiggled out of your grasp.

“Stop, tía, he’s nice,” she groaned. Looking up at the man, she explained, “This is my tía that I told you about.”

“Your tía looks quite scared, Táankelem (young one),” the man spoke, his strong accent not influencing the eloquence of his voice. He sounded regal, his tone almost omnipotent. 

“She didn’t believe me that you were real,” your niece explained nonchalantly, picking up a pretty shell from the sand and turning it over in her hand. The man nodded his head in understanding. “She’s also a bit of a scaredy-cat.”

You gulped, ignoring your niece’s comments and allowing your eyes to trail down him until it reached his ankles; wings. On his ankles. Real wings. You heard him clear his throat.

“My eyes are up here.”

“I-- I’m sorry,” you sputtered out, averting your eyes away from the wings to meet his sparkling ebony eyes. He looked amused, lips curled upwards. “You just appeared miraculously from the water, so please excuse me for being a little taken aback.”

He gave a deep chuckle, and you took notice of the beautiful jade jewelry adorned on his ears and in his septum piercing. “I do not blame you. Most surface dwellers would.”

This comment almost made you mad. What was that supposed to mean? You straightened your posture and lifted your chin to appear taller, but to no avail; he still towered over you. You nodded your head towards the water and said, “So I’d assume you’re a... not-surface... dweller, then?”

You sounded stupid and he knew it, but his lips were turned up so you assumed it was okay. “Yes. You would be right.”

“Tía studies the ocean,” your niece chirped from your side. “She’s a marine biologist.”

The man raised a brow. “Oh?”

You gulped again. “Mm-hm.”

“Hm,” he said pensively, eyeing you carefully as though trying to gauge whether or not you were a threat or not. You curled your shoulders down a bit, feeling intimidated under his gaze. After a long moment of you feeling your neck heat up, he glanced up at the sky behind you, the sun almost set, its light casting an orange-yellow glow onto his skin. Finally, he spoke, “It is late, no?”

You practically jumped. He seemed to enjoy watching your animated expressions. “Shit. Yeah. C’mon, mija, we need to--”

“What? No!” she frowned and stomped her foot. “He just got here!”

“I know, but he’s right, it’s very late and dinner’s getting cold and your mom will be very--”

“Pleeeeeease?”

You gave her a deadpan look. She pouted. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“No. Let’s go,” you grabbed her hand, and she reluctantly intertwined her fingers with yours, holding her surf board underneath her free arm. You glanced at the man from the water, who was watching the pair of you with innocent curiosity, his brows slightly raised, drops of salty ocean water dripping from the swoop of his deep brown hair. “Very nice to meet you, Mister... uhm...?”

He seemed to hesitate, as though deciding whether to reveal himself. “I am known to my people at K’uk’ulkan. To enemies and others, Namor.”

You blinked, trying to decipher whether or not you were one of his people. Was he a god of the sea, making him your god? Or did he rule somewhere? You settled on the safe choice.

“Namor, then,” you said, and he bowed his head to you ever so slightly. You turned to your niece. “Go pack up your things, okay?”

She grumbled a reluctant agreement and stomped away, her surf board dragging a jagged line in the sand. You turned back to the man from the water-- sorry, Namor-- and gave him a curious look.

“She said you helped her from getting caught in the current,” you said to him. His face didn’t change. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” he admitted. He was silent for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in his brain, figuring out if you were worthy of his words. “I do not often come to the surface world, but I am glad I did. The current was strong that day.”

“Thank you,” you said to him. “I worry about her out in these waters... especially today when the waves are as big as they were...”

“Do not worry,” he reassured you, tilting his head forward, and you realized he had stepped closer to you. "She is in alignment with le ja'o' (the water). And, it seems you are, too.”

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot. “No, no, I’m... I’m probably the world’s worst surfer.”

Namor furrowed his brow. “You study the water, do you not?”

Your mouth formed an O, understanding him. “Oh! Well, I mean... I guess so. Yes. I do.”

“Well, there you have it,” Namor said surely, his dark eyes glinting under the glow of the sunset, his lips curling upwards. He glanced behind you. “It is time to go.”

You turned around to see your niece drawing circles in the sand, waiting for you to finish talking.

“Oh!” you turned back to Namor. “Well, erm... it was... it was nice to meet you.”

“We will see each other again,” he said surely, staring at you for a moment before stepping back. You watched him gulp, jaw clenching, before stepping towards the edge of the water. 

You didn’t dare move, watching him walk into the tide; the frothy waves practically molded around him as though they were made for him to stand in, barely splashing against his legs as he became engulfed by the sea.

He turned around to face you, bowing his head in the form of a goodbye. You mimicked him before lifting a hand up in a wave, watching the wind blow through the dark brown curls on his head.

“Tìa, come on!” your niece cried from behind you. You turned around, walking towards her, but when you spared one last glance at the sea, Namor was gone.

---

THE NEXT DAY, YOU LOOKED for him. Of course, Namor was not there; the beach was packed, not that you expected any different from a sunny Saturday afternoon. But even with hundreds of people strolling along the shores, you found your eyes trailing across the waves, wondering if you’d spot a glitter of gold from the blue waters.

The book on your lap remained open, stuck on one page you couldn’t seem to get past when your eyes kept straying from the words. You weren’t sure what about Namor had gotten your mind so preoccupied. At first, you had assumed it was simply the shock of randomly speaking to a man who lived under the water. As crazy as that was, you were sure it wasn’t that. 

Maybe it was the idea that your studies as a marine biologist seemed fruitless now knowing that there was an entire community of people in the depths of the ocean. Or, it could’ve been the way his dark eyes glinted at you by the light of the setting sun.

You walked back to your sister’s house after a serene day of sitting under the sun, sand tangled in your hair and stuck to your ankles. After a shower and a beautiful dinner cooked by your sister’s husband, you sat on the porch of the house, fiddling with your string bracelets with your notebook in your lap. There were a few empty glass vials in your pocket, with metal testing strips and other things you had snagged from your lab back in Florida.

You intended to test a sample of the water from the shores of the gulf to further your studies on the metals found in the Pacific, you reminded yourself as you brought yourself toward the beach again. That was all you needed to do. You certainly didn’t need to sit on the shore and wonder whether or not the man from the sea would come out and talk to you again. That was foolish. That was what you were telling your niece not to do just the day before.

The water was still warm from it’s day under the sun, running over the tops of your feet as they sunk into the sand. The light reflecting off the moon glimmered onto the water, making the waves shine under the night sky; you could see why your sister had wanted to move to her husband’s hometown rather than your childhood home in Florida.

After wading in up to your knees, the water splashing the hems of your denim shorts, you filled the two vials with ocean water, capping them with brown corks and putting them in your pocket. Sharp shells poking at the pads of your feet, you trekked towards the shore, thinking about work back home and how you couldn’t stay here forever. Maybe you’d come back to Yucatàn permanently when you retired, but for now, your sister’s town would have to wait. 

A splash made your head whip around you, the wind hitting your eyes with such ferocity that they went dry for a second. To your disappointment, there was nothing behind you except for the horizon. You turned around towards the shore again. 

Right as you were about to step onto the dry sand, a hand grabbed your wrist and wheeled you around quicker than lightning. You had barely a second to register that it was Namor before he reached into your pocket and slipped out the two vials of water. You reached for them, but he held them out of your grasp.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he teased, holding them above his head. You narrowed your eyes at him. “What is this for?”

“Work,” you replied bluntly. You reached for it again, your fingers brushing the gold cuff on his wrist. “Hey! Give them back.”

“You might have to be a little more specific if you want these back,” Namor told you, his brows slightly furrowed. You blinked at him, your eyes searching his for a smidge of mercy, but you sighed when you realized he’d never let up.

“There’s a bunch of research being done on water in certain areas of the Pacific,” you explained, avoiding his eyes. Salt water dripped from his furrowed brow, his face firm. “I conducted a test a little while ago and I found traces of vibranium that I’ve only found in Wakanda. I came down here to be certain.”

Namor was silent for a long moment, his eyes flickering around your face, before he brought his arm down. He took a glance at the two vials, staring at the water splash around inside them, before closing his large fist and crushing them between his fingers. Your mouth fell open before you cursed.

“What the hell?” you said angrily as he nonchalantly dusted his hand off on his bare torso.

“I can’t let you do that,” Namor told you, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you on the spot for even having knowledge of my existence.”

Your blood ran cold. You didn’t speak, a frog in your throat, the sound of the waves splashing against your calves filling the silence. Suddenly, the corner of his lips turned up and he let out a bark of laughter.

“I’m just kidding. I never planned on killing you.”

You blinked, watching him chuckle to himself. You let out an awkward breath of laughter.

“Oh, ha ha…” You didn’t find it very funny. “Good thing.”

“But I cannot let you take these waters home,” his face fell serious again. You glanced down at the water, watching the cork screws of the two vials float away behind Namor with the waves, disappearing in the sea foam. You frowned.

“Why?” you asked him in a meek voice. He didn’t respond, only locking eyes with you. You took the chance to let your eyes wander over the thick golden necklace he wore, your gaze following the blue metal strips parallel with the gold. You met his eyes again. “That’s vibranium, isn’t it?”

Namor glanced down at his necklace. You looked at his forearms, his wrists. All were covered in gold, jade, and above all, vibranium.

“How do you have access to that?” you asked curiously, narrowing your eyes. “You’re not from Wakanda, are you?”

“I am not,” he admitted. “Wakanda is not the only place with access to vibranium.”

“Where are you from?”

“You ask too many questions,” Namor told you, his face light. You blinked. “Those in which you will not receive answers.”

A frown adorned your face. “Look, I... just one sample of the water would suffice. I need further proof of my research. If I can’t get this, they could abandon the project entirely and I... you don’t care, do you?”

Namor pursed his lips. “I am sorry. But your struggles do not persuade me.”

“Yeah, I figured they wouldn’t,” you sighed. Namor tilted his head to the side, staring down at you as though he were intrigued, his ebony eyes casting over your figure. “Okay. Yeah, these are... these are your waters, I guess. You live here, I only got a damn doctorate in it...”

Namor looked amused by your mutterings. He said nothing, simply watching as you ran a hand across your scalp, brainstorming a different way to present your findings. You huffed, taking a glance back at the your sister’s small house on the shore. You thought about ripping up your notebook and potentially throwing your laptop into the ocean. How’s that for heavy metals in the water, huh, Dr. Ryan-fucking-Bernstein?

“Good talking to you, Namor,” you said at last, your face showing that it was, in fact, not good talking to him. “I’m gonna go and... probably drink enough wine to turn the ocean red.”

“You are dedicated to your work, Doctor, are you not?” Namor asked inquisitively, trailing after you even when you began to wade through the water towards the shore. He caught up to be walking at your side. You rolled your eyes. “There are more important things to study than vibranium in the Pacific.”

“Yeah, well, if I go in there talking about something less than groundbreaking, I could potentially be kicked to the curb,” you explained. Namor listened intently, as though there was a pen and paper in his brain frantically taking notes. “And fuckin’ Bernstein will pull me aside and go, Well, you’ve only been out of University for so long, it could do you some good to get more field experience... field experience my ass!”

“Why would you be kicked to the curb?”

“Because I’m a woman, that’s why,” you scoffed as the pair of you reached the shore, the sand sticking to the balls of your feet and onto your ankles. Your eyes glanced down to the sand, drifting to Namor’s ankles where the two sets of wings shook the water off themselves. Namor hummed as though he understood. You gave a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut. “Men. No offense. Men that are...erm... on the surface.”

“None taken,” Namor said, watching as you retreated into your thoughts, presumably brainstorming another way to keep yourself in the good graces of your team. He bit the inside of his cheek, staring at you. “I am sorry, doctor, that this thwarts your success.”

“Well,” you breathed. “If telling people about vibranium in the water is... I dunno, a threat to your people, then... I understand. I would hate to be the reason for that.”

Namor blinked. His face was neutral, but something in his eyes told you he wasn’t used to that. He parted his lips, silent for a moment as though he were trying to gauge what words were right.

“I...” he paused, blinking twice. “Thank you. For understanding.”

You only nodded your head, glancing down the small road beyond the sand at the porch of your sister’s house. “I should head home.”

“Mm,” Namor was still eyeing you strangely. You narrowed your eyes, before you brought your hand up to snap in his face. He flinched.

“Anyone up there?” you said, dipping your head a bit as he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it a bit, salt water dripping through his fingers. His eyes flickered frantically towards the ocean, the waves crashing softly on the sand. His eyes met yours again, his tongue hastily running over his lips.

“It is late. I must be going,” he said abruptly, turning around and walking into the tide, hiding his face. “I will see you again, Doctor.”

“Oh, okay,” you said awkwardly. “Uhm... good night, I guess.”

Namor spared you a final glance paired with the deep bow of his head before you watched him fly above the water, wings on his ankles carrying his weight; your mouth fell open at the sight of up ascending higher and higher before he shot himself down into the depths of the sea, disappearing with only a series of fading footprints as proof of his existence. 

One of the two corks from your vials washed up onto the shore after he left. You picked it up, rolling it between your fingers, before sighing and shoving it into your pocket. You’d figure something out.

---

THE NEXT TWO DAYS, YOU barely left your room. You spent the time sitting in front of your computer, typing and deleting and typing again and deleting again until you could figure out what to do about work and your presentation. Your niece, the sweetheart she was, would bring you a cup of tea every evening and set it down next to your notebook; you’d give her a tight hug, a kiss on the forehead before she’d run off to go play on her IPad or whatever kids did these days.

One late morning, when you sat at the table with a glass of pineapple juice and a measly piece of toast, your niece ran into the room, her hair dripping wet and her shirt soaked from her wet swimsuit. She didn’t say a word, only ran to the sink to fill up a cup of water. You watched her, amused, as she silently chugged the entire thing, breathing heavily, before she refilled it and chugged the whole thing again.

“You thirsty?” you asked her sarcastically. She let out a deep exhale, slamming the cup down.

“You missed it,” she breathed, hopping up onto the stool beside you. Wiping her wet hair off of her plump cheeks, she said, “The flying man was on the beach.”

“Was he, now?” you mused, raising a brow. What was Namor doing on the shores so early? You had the idea he’d avoid that time of day considering everyone went to beach so early. “With so many people?”

“Oh, no, the beaches were empty,” your niece told you. “Barely anyone, ‘cause there was a storm and there’s all the seaweed in the water so people didn’t wanna swim. But I was there and he was there and he asked me where you were.”

“And you told him...?”

“I said you’re at home because you’ve been cooped up in the office for a thousand years, working,” she shrugged. “He said to tell you to take a break.”

“He’s the reason I gotta work so much,” you grumbled under your breath. “Well, is he still at the beach?”

“Oh, no, he went home,” she replied. Standing up again and wiping the water off the seat, she told you, “I need to go take a bath before Mama sees me. I wasn’t supposed to go surfing this morning.”

You laughed and ruffled her hair as she ran by you, thinking about Namor’s message. Part of you thought it was curious that he asked for you, especially after his weird behavior the last he saw you. The other part of you was a bit pissed off, considering it was because of him that you had to redo all of your hard work. Besides, what does he care about whether you take a break or not? What did he want, you to go to beach so he can act all mysterious again?

You sister wanted to go for a walk along the beach that night, and you were almost nervous that Namor would pop up, not expecting you to have company. He didn’t pop up during your stroll with your sister, but the tide kept receding like the water was beckoning you to walk closer to it. Every so often, you’d glance to the horizon as if you had a hunch he’d be there, but every time, you’d see nothing but the gentle waves.

“You wanna keep walking?” your sister asked. You shrugged, drawing a misshapen circle in the sand with your foot. “I’ve got a headache, so I think I’ll head back. You comin’ with?”

“No, I think I’ll walk for a bit more,” you told her. She opened her mouth, a stern look on, but you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small pepper spray attached to your keys. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Always one step ahead, huh,” she bumped your shoulder. “Don’t stay out too late, or I’ll worry.”

“Love you.”

You were left to your own devices, just you and the shore. You felt like this was a common theme for your time in Yucatán. Going home was going to feel like a huge downgrade, you thought. There was a beach at in Florida, sure, but nothing like this. This felt nicer. Cleaner. More real.

“I was wondering when I’d get you alone.”

Of course, you thought. You knew he was there, just hiding. You turned your head towards the shore. Namor ran a hand through his hair, shaking some of the water off of it and wiping it out of his face.

“I was wondering when you’d quit lurking,” you retorted, eyeing him teasingly. He pursed his lips.

“Well, when someone’s walking in my waters, I like to know,” he said matter-of-factly. You scoffed, shaking your head. “What’s so funny?”

“Your waters,” you specified. “The water doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Even a god?”

You side-eyed him. His bronze skin looked glossy from the water coating it, and despite combing his hair off of his forehead, pieces of it fell down and hung low over his dark brow. 

“Are you a God?”

He seemed to think about this for a moment, staring off. “Depends who you ask.”

You sighed, unsure what to make of that, before sitting down where it was dry, tucking your tees close to your chest. Your toes disappearing under a blanket of sand, you watched as Namor stood still for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out what to do, before he took a seat beside you. His shoulder brushed against yours, his skin cold from the water compared to yours, which was warm from the sun. The wings at his ankles fluttered for a moment before falling still, hanging tiredly, perpendicular to the ground. 

“Why do you keep popping up?” you asked him curiously. “I thought you said you didn’t come to the surface often.”

Namor said nothing, gazing off at the tide with his hands clasped in his lap. He smelt like the sea, like the sand and the breeze. You resisted the urge to swipe the lock of hair that fell over his brows.

“I adore my people. And my life is about as fulfilling as one could imagine,” Namor began carefully, his tone smooth as butter. “However... it can be lonely. And it is refreshing to speak to someone different.”

“Ah,” you acknowledged. You stared at him for a second, staring at his gentle expression as he stared at the sea. “My niece says you think I should take a break. What were you doin’ on the surface earlier??”

His lips curled up, almost bashfully. “Yes, well... I was looking for you. You hadn’t been to the shore.”

“Yeah, well, I was working,” you told him. “’Cause I had to re-do my whole presentation.”

Namor sent you a look. “You are not still holding a grudge for that, are you?”

“No grudge,” you chuckled. “Just a little resentment.”

You sat on the shore with Namor for a little over two hours. He was easy to speak to, you found, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in what you had to say, especially when you went off explaining what your new presentation was about. He praised your work, and even went as far as to saying that if the other board members (“...fucking-Berstein, you called him, no?”) gave you a hard time, he’d swim up to Florida and screw them over. You laughed and said there was no need. You couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

By the time the third hour approached, the incessant buzzing of your phone became unignorable. It was your sister, texting and calling you to make sure you were all right, wondering when you’d be home.

“You’re turning more into mom every day, you know,” was the first thing you said when you picked up the phone. Namor was still sitting beside you, resting on the backs of his hands, pleasantly staring at you as you spoke into your phone. “...I just lost track of time, s’all... oh my gosh, you really don’t need to worry.”

Namor’s knee was pressed against yours. You glanced down at it, trying to focus on what your sister was saying. You could see the vibranium of his great necklace sparkle out of the corner of your eye every time his chest would rise and fall.

“Look, I’ll be home soon, okay? Nothing to worry about... yes, I still have the mace... go to bed! I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, okay, I hear you. Good night. Love you... love you more.”

You clicked the red button to hang up, sighing and resting your phone beside you. You sighed, rubbing your eyes despite knowing it would smudge your mascara.

“I gotta get home,” you told Namor breathily. He hummed, nodding his head. 

“As do I,” he told you, glancing over to lock eyes with you. His gaze flickered to your eyes, then to your mouth, then back to your eyes. Your heart jumped for a second, before he stood up. “I will see you, Doctor.”

“You’re always calling me that,” you said pleasantly, rising to your feet and brushing the sand off of your shorts. “I have a name, you know.”

“Yes, I do know,” he told you assuredly. “Y/N.”

You furrowed your brow. “How d’you know that?”

He grinned. “Blame your niece.”

---

YOU MET WITH HIM ALMOST every night without fail for the remainder of your time in Yucatán. The last time you saw him for that time, however, was on your last day before returning home. As for work, you were kind of figuring things out. Without the sample, maybe your work wouldn’t be as updated or exact, but you decided to talk about a different aspect of water quality instead of the metals in the water to maybe distract the department from delving further into the vibranium research. If you never saw Namor again, at least you’d know you did your part to protect him and his people.

Your sister’s family was sad to see you leaving, especially your niece. They asked you to stay another day or so, and while the idea was tempting (especially with the incentive of an attractive man from the sea being there), you knew you needed to get back to life, even if it meant knowing you didn’t have a Namor back home.

Walking along the streets, glancing at street vendors and small shops with your tote bag hanging from your shoulder, you reflected on your time there. The serenity of it all, in contrast with the hustle and bustle back home. You loved your cute little apartment in Florida, but your sister’s neighborhood was a place you wished you had chosen to settle down in.

The bell above the door ringing, you strolled into a little shop with trinkets and tchotchkes from the town. Figurines and flags and wooden carvings littered the store, and upon entering, the short old woman behind the counter gingerly sewing a coin purse smiled at you with a soft greeting under her breath.

A figurine caught your eye; it laid on the top shelf of one of the stands in the center of the store, wood shining under the yellow-lights. It was a feathered-serpent, wood carved so delicately you thought if you let out too big of a breathe it might fall apart. The paper label in front of it read K’uk’ulkan. You stared at it, forgetting on where you heard that name before. You ran your finger over the head of the serpent, eyeing it carefully.

“A creator god, that one,” the woman behind the counter was now standing next to you, speaking in a calm, curious voice. She smiled at you. “Of rain, wind, storms, and life. He is a point of connection between the gods and humanity.”

“K’uk’ulkan,” you said, nodding your head, your throat running a bit dry. 

“Some have claimed to see him wandering the shores,” she chuckled to herself, strolling back behind the corner and picking up her stitching again. You stared at her, and then back at the figurine of the feathered-serpent god. “Never up the beach, though, just the shores... but, then again. Only rumors.”

You swallowed. 

“Are you looking for anything in particular, honey?”

“Just... just looking,” you hummed. When you eventually left the shop, the carving of K’uk’ulkan sat comfortably in your purse, your money sitting gingerly on the counter next to the woman’s sewing.

- - -

THAT EVENING, YOUR BAGS PACKED and sitting by the front door of your sister’s house, you ventured down to the shore for one final time. The air felt colder, the water, too, and the wind whipped your hair around harshly. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you watched the waves crash aggressively against the sand, as if it were angry with you. Still, you waited, for five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, only for nothing. The air grew colder. You took a step back, dry sand sticking to your water-covered feet. You closed your eyes, sighing, knowing it probably was smart to leave. 

“Doctor,” came Namor’s voice when you began to walk away. You turned around, watching him wade out of the water almost as if he were in a rush. He set eyes on you as he stepped into the sand, walking up until he was right before you, wings fluttering at his ankles. “I apologize for making you wait.”

You didn’t know why you felt like crying. You didn’t shed a tear, but something in your chest was twisting. “It’s okay.”

Namor didn’t say anything, only staring at you despondently, as if he knew it was likely you’d never see him again. His eyes were warm, like pools of ebony honey spilling out in salt water droplets on his bronzed cheeks. 

“I’m going home tomorrow morning,” you told him after a long moment of silence, a long moment of you avoiding his gaze and him searching for yours. “Flight’s at seven.”

“Oh,” was his response. “I… didn’t realize you were leaving so soon.”

“Well...duty calls,” you said stupidly, cringing at yourself as soon as the words left your lips. “I’d stay if I could.”

“Why don’t you?” he asked a little too quickly. You sighed.

“Work,” you shrugged. “Plants in my apartment will die without me. Got a pet fish, too...”

“Fish should not be kept as pets,” Namor told you, on the edge of chastising you.

“He lives a good life,” you curled your lips up, smirking. Namor blinked. “I’m kidding. You think a marine biologist is gonna have a pet fish?”

He smiled at you, let out a chuckle. The laughter was short lived, since his smile dropped and he continued to stare at you. What was up with him? Something felt different in this meeting; even though you had known him for such a short time, your heart couldn’t stop twisting. Those eyes, man.

“When will you come back?” he asked, speaking as though he intended for the question to come out indifferent, but the way his eyebrows curved up made him look more like a wounded puppy. You gave a weak shrug.

“Not sure. Few months or so,” you answered, watching his jaw clench. “Depends on the, erm... the project.”

He hummed, at long last breaking his eyes from your face and glancing at the sand. He reached into his pocket, the silence filled with the sound of the waves crashing behind him. In his hand was a jade bracelet, delicately hand-strung. You could see the vibranium laced into the strings, and behind Namor you watched the waves calm. The wind stopped suddenly, the chill on your arms fading.

“I brought you a gift,” he said, holding it up to you. “A bracelet, from my people. It was my mother’s.”

“I... this is...” your mouth fell open, watching as Namor held it out to you. He reached out, his calloused hand grabbing ahold of your wrist to lift it up. Gently draping the bracelet over your wrist, he clasped it and smoothed it against your skin with his thumbs, his eyes trailing up to lock with yours again. “I can’t accept this.”

“You will,” Namor told you, still not letting go of your wrist. “You must. As gratitude for your-- your-- sympathy and-- and respect.”

You stared down at it, oblivious to the way he stammered over his words, your chest churning as you remained too distracted by where his hands held onto your wrist. You dared to look up at meet his eyes, feeling your neck become hot at the sight of him.

“You... you will not be back for months?” Namor asked for clarity.

“I-- I really don’t know when I’ll be back,” you told him disappointedly, wishing you could give him an answer. You watched him take in a great inhale, his chest rising and falling, the gold jewelry on his collarbones glimmering underneath the pale moonlight. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” he told you, bowing his head. You felt the wind pick up again, just as he brought a hand up to rest against your cheek, thumb against your cheekbone. His other hand still held onto your wrist. “I will wait for you.”

“You don’t need to do that--”

“I will wait for you,” he repeated. “And when you return, I will show you Talokan.”

“Talokan?” you repeated. “Your home?”

He nodded.

“Namor, that’s... I would love that,” you smiled up at him, unconsciously leaning into the way his hand cupped your cheek. His brow twitched.

“My enemies call me Namor,” he informed you, thumb tenderly moving across your skin. “You may call me K’uk’ulkan.”

You chest fluttered.

“K’uk’ulkan,” you repeated, the words sounding familiar on your tongue. He smiled at you. Dropping his hand, he reluctantly took a step back.

“Until we meet again,” he said formally, deeply bowing his head to you. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Y/N.”

The wind began to pick up again as he stepped back into the water, thrashing the sand at your legs so they stung. He didn’t stop walking, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as the water slowly rose up his legs. The water began to grow wild again, the waves crashing as they lapped at the sandy shore, that same cols air coming back.

A tear slipped from your lashes, and with a heaving chest, you let out a sharp inhale and began to make your way into the water. You pulled your pants up to your knees, the water splashing the cotton and darkening it. 

K’uk’ulkan turned around, looking slightly befuddled at the sight of you struggling to reach him. He halted, waiting for you. When you reached him, without a moments hesitation, you brought both hands to the sides of his face and pressed your lips against him, kissing him gently. You couldn’t tell if the salt you tasted was from the ocean or your stray tears.

You pulled away, keeping your hands on his cheeks to stare at him a final time. Dropping your hands, you averted your eyes to the ground when he started staring at you again with those puppy dog eyes.

“Just until I see you again,” you said sheepishly, scratching your arm. Flickering your eyes up to him, you were pleased to see him with an endeared smile painted on his face. 

“I like the way you think, J-ts'aak (Doctor),” K’uk’ulkan said through a grin, leaning in to kiss you again, breathing you in like it was his only breath of air. He was warm against you, despite the coldness of the water from his chest.

At some point, you peeled away from him before the pair of you got too carried away. His chest heaving, he leaned his forehead against yours, hands gripping onto your sides.

“I have an early flight tomorrow morning,” you mumbled. “It’s late, I should get going...”

You felt him sigh and pull off of you. “Go get some sleep, in yakunaj (my dear). I will see you when you return.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered. 

“Goodnight,” K’uk’ulkan nodded, bowing his head; he swooped low and pressed another kiss to your lips, before pulling back with his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, that’s enough...”

You spared him another smile before turning to wade through the water back towards the shore. By the time you reached the sand, you realized the air had become warm again, the waters calm and the wind non-existent. 

When you turned around, K’uk’ulkan was gone, but the bracelet on your wrist reminded you of his presence. You had no desire to go back to Florida, but you know what they say... distance makes the heart grow fonder. You were sure that would be the case.

---

a/n: all information regarding k’uk’ulkan from the yucatec maya culture is cited below <3

Cartwright, Mark. “Kukulcan.” World History Encyclopedia, Https://Www.worldhistory.org#Organization, 12 Dec. 2022, https://www.worldhistory.org/Kukulcan/.

taglist:

@niallhoransupremacy @childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777 @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty 

has anyone ever written namor x filipino!reader,,, i just think its interesting for him to meet another ethnicity whose whole culture was demonized and burned by the spaniards HFJSHDJA

more ideas for filo!reader x namor!! i just think its neat for them to discuss the differences and similarities and culture....

also would namor be disappointed that our country essentially gave up and embraced the religion forced onto us? or would he be just as angry that we were called "indios" and "barbarians" by the spanish so we essentially just embraced christianity in hopes of mediating the suffering?

would he be just as angry as us to learn that essentially 85% of our original culture has been lost to the flames the spaniards caused? would he understand the way we filipinos look down on ourselves after so MANY years of colonization? weve essentially been colonized for more than 300+ years by different countries

so many questions and so much anger lets goooo

(also i would like to add that filipinos LOVEEE swimming so :DD)

more namor x filipino!reader brainrot lets goooo

not to sound patriotic or whatever but i really am one of those filipinos who feel an inexplicable amount of rage and frustration that so much of our art and literature were burned or even worse; used as cleaning stones for the feet of our colonizers causing irreperable damage to what little we had left so basically they took our 5% and halved it to 2% 😀

also how they regularly tortured, burned our houses, burned our cultures, and raped so many women yet called US FILIPINOS the barbarians.

i just want a filipino reader to just bottle up all this anger for their ancestors but then consequently blows up when namor keeps pushing them to feel the *anger* and *vengeance* bc hes namor,,,

and namor being namor fuels the fire even more and urges reader to embrace all of this and the reader has a dilemma of "the ones who killed my country are dead, yet their kin remains alive yet they have no blame in this" BOOM MORAL DILEMMA

also philippine mythology elements 👁👁 (atleast whats left of it...)

so much of our language has also borrowed words from spanish and that makes me so angry lmfao i wanna channel that so bad into this trope

and this can honestly still be seen today by how ppl use "filipinx" or "filipina" when filipino is alr a gender neutral term .

WE DONT EVEN HAVE THE LETTER "F" IN OUR ALPHABET WE'RE ACTUALLY CALLED PILIPINOS

more hcs and brainrot for namor x filipino!reader!!!

what if you called him "aking sinta"? (trans: my most cherished) or like "ang aking irog" (trans: my love/sweetheart) or just a random term of endearment like "mahal!" HSHAJDJAHD i get that he would DESPISEEE being called mi amor since its the language of the colonizers,

but since the language of the colonizers called him a "child without love", what if you used ur mother tongue to call him "my love"?

would he mayhaps melt at the thought?????? 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

lmfao more brainrot for namor x filipino!reader bc i like feeding myself

but imagine namor seeing u in precolonial filipino wear??? AAAAAAAA AND THEN HE COMPLIMENTS THE "CRAFTSMANSHIP" AND HOW BEAUTIFUL IT LOOKS

also the robes differ from region to region so feel free to imagine which region it is!! tho i am visualizing a more precolonial visayan wear

"it escapes me on why your people have abandoned wearing your traditional garbs" "namor we were tortured and enslaved for more than 300 years" ".... i see. i apologise" HAHSHWHDHQHSAHS

IMAGINE HIM REMAKING SOME OF THE TRADITIONAL PRECOLONIAL CLOTHING U SHOWED HIM??? BRO???? LIKE HE REMAKES IT ALL WITH BETTER FABRIC BC "it was how it was intended to be made"

AND THEN HE ADDS HIS OWN CHARM AND SPINS TO IT LIKE ADDING JADE, VIBRANIUM, ETC AAAA

a piece of your history.

Pairing: Namor x Filipino!Reader

Rating: Mature, Comedy (No smut but there is tension)

Summary: It hurts to not be able to properly recreate your traditional pre-colonial Filipino clothing, and Namor takes notice of this feeling of yours.

Word Count: 2,578

Content Warning: Mentions of colonialization

Disclaimer: Namor is kind of cold and dark towards reader!! Idk if its ooc but i would imagine that he would generally be apprehensive towards a surface dweller. you have been warned

___________

Reminder: This fic is part of a Namor x Filipino!Reader miniseries, but can be read on its own! Miniseries fic(s):

a piece of your history. / "beloved."

__________

“Do you like it?”

You asked, grinning, slightly turning yourself around in order to fully show off your work proudly.

Namor hummed, sitting in the water by the shore of the beach. He was always like this, meeting up with you now and again. 

“Is this the wear of your people?” He asked. You grinned and nodded, letting out small chuckles while fiddling with the fabric between your fingers. You had always wanted to make the Pre-Colonial traditional clothing of your Filipino ancestors, it was the closest thing you had of home as of now. 

The process was tedious, you admit that. So little resources or references online on how your specific region’s clothing looked– much less how it was made, due to how much the Spaniards burned and banned, but you had still managed to gather enough to make one as accurately as possible.

“It’s… beautiful.” He simply says, eyeing up the clothes and how it wrapped around your body, causing you to tear your eyes away from him in fear of showing how his compliment affected you in such a way. 

“Why have your people stopped wearing this? Are they not your traditional wear?” Namor asked, remembering the photos of your family that you had shown him. They were wearing what you had called a “baro’t saya” and “barong” for the celebration of “Buwan ng Wika” as he recalled it.

“It’s gorgeous, and made by the hands of your people instead of the colonizers.” He continued, “It escapes me on why your people have abandoned wearing your traditional garbs, instead choosing to wear what they gave you.” This statement slightly irked you, causing you to deadpan at him.

“Dude, we were enslaved and tortured by them for more than 300 years.” You crossed your arms. “Do you think we abandoned it willingly?” You were met with silence, and for once, Namor was the one who was left speechless by bluntness.

“... Right. My apologies.” Was all Namor could reply, causing you to let out a small laugh, shaking your head. It’s not often you’re the one leaving him silent, with him often bashing “surface dwellers”, causing you to regularly remind him that you yourself are a surface dweller. 

Namor never had a proper reply for that.

However, even if you were happy with your work, you still frowned and sighed. You dragged your fingers along the cloth, wistfully looking at its patterns. Namor’s eyes followed the way your face curled up to a grimace, causing him to frown even more (if that was even possible) in confusion. 

“It’s not much, though. The fabric’s sorta cheap ‘cause it was the only one I could find that had this specific pattern. I had to pick between comfortability or accuracy.” You sulked, sitting down on the dry sand close to him. You hugged your knees close to your chest, already itchy from the scratchy inside of the fabric.

“I chose accuracy, of course… for them.” You vaguely finished, slightly bitter on how hard it was to make your country’s real traditional clothing in an authentic way. You palmed the sand, looking for your bag before taking out your trusty cellphone. 

Ah, surface dwellers and their hand-held yet fragile technologies… Namor thought as you typed and scrolled away at your phone. 

“I mean, look at this!” You held your phone out, showing what appeared to be a real life replica of your garbs, just made in a better way. Namor narrowed his eyes in confusion. 

“So your people still make this?” 

“Well technically yes, but no? God, I wish, though. This is just a historical costume for entertainment…” You replied, huffing. 

“Tangina talaga ng Espanya…” You grumbled under your breath. Namor chuckled at you, as he had heard you swear in your mother tongue (he was sure it was a swear– it was literally the first word you had taught him) at one of your country’s past colonizers.

“Jay, ba'ax jaaj le je'elo'...” He replied, agreeing, though this did cause your face to slightly feel warmer. You would never admit it to his face, but him speaking his native language was kinda hot.

You let out a small chuckle, before wistfully sighing and looking at the sky. 

“You know… I’m kinda jealous of you and your people of Talokan.” Namor rose an eyebrow at you, his head turning to look at you. You put your hands up in mock defense, clearly meaning well.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way! And yeah, you guys have faced struggles with water pollution, junk and also colonizer stuff… It’s just… y’know…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bashful. Namor’s gaze softened, as he nodded to indicate that you continue. You breathed in deeply.

“Well, I mean, you guys got to keep your culture intact, no outside forces ripping it away from you.” You mumbled, picking at the sand that got between your nails.

“No forgotten gods… no forgotten stories… no forgotten practices.” You longingly looked at the sea.

You snorted, though. “Even if they tried, you could still put up a fight and protect it.” You smiled at him, causing him to avert his gaze and look back at the ocean.

“I just… I just wish I could salvage at least a small part of it.” You finished, already feeling your throat close up and tears form in your eyes. God, why did you have to be so emotional? Putangina naman… 

For a beat or two, Namor stayed quiet. You already felt dread setting in your stomach, oh god. What if he had another diva moment and dove back in the water? Before you could panic even more, you heard the water move, as water droplets seem to fall from sky and onto you. You looked up in confusion, squinting your eyes at Namor, who had stood up from his place to sit closer to you.

“... May I see more of these garbs?” 

Your frown was replaced with a smile, as you swallowed back the lump and blinked away the oncoming tears. “Sure! I have so many saved and printed– it’s important to have references before crafting, after all!” 

Your signature grin was back as you happily took out what looked to be a plastic bag containing pictures that looked similar to your clothes. You happily explained away, showing him more and more photos– though he did notice that you had backed up a bit when he came a bit too close to your personal space. 

He followed along as you showed more and more photos– along with more pictures of Pre-Colonial jewelry that you wanted to replicate yourself. He noticed the way you would stop and longingly gaze at them, before continuing on with explaining.

Namor watched the way your eyes would brighten as you talked more and more about your history, before they would dim as you brought up on why it was not used by your people in the modern day anymore. 

“... And yeah, that’s pretty much what my own region wears! Though, it does get a bit tricky to see if it really is my region per say,” Namor looked at you, a bit confused but waiting for you to continue. Your smile grew wider. 

“All regions basically have a lot of similarities and differences! So sometimes it gets a bit confusing.” You rambled, before noticing yourself and getting a bit embarrassed. Namor softly smiled at you. 

“This just shows how rich the cultures of your people are, in etail.” 

You blinked before letting out a joyous laugh, surprised that Namor of all people complimented you! (Well, to be more precise, your heritage). You were about to reply before your eyes caught sight of the time on your phone. “Ay gago! Ang late na pala! I still have to call my parents!” You put on your coat over your work, before shoving your phone back in your bag. 

Before you could properly stand up, a hand on your wrist stopped you. Your brain loaded for a few seconds, your eyes following the hand and how it trailed back to Namor. “Come back here in two days time.” He asked (more of demanded).

You gawked at him, this was the first time he ever confirmed that you were going to see him! Most of the time, he simply came and went as he pleased. The look in his eyes already made it impossible to say no, so of course refusing him was not an option. 

“I-I…” You stammered, meeting his eyes that had so much emotion in them. You gulped. “Okay! See you in… two days, dude!” You quickly went on your way home.

Namor nodded at you, before he caught sight of the familiar plastic ziplock you had left behind. Before he could call out to you, you were already too far away, and if he were to approach you someone would surely see him.  

Namor watched your back fade from the distance, already confirming the idea forming in his head. He nodded to himself, before grabbing the ziplock bag and diving back into the sea, making sure to not let anything get wet. 

__________

You practically ran towards the beach as you grinned, excited that your.. Friend(?) or Frenemy(?) personally requested your presence. You cleared your throat and attempted to act cool, though severely failing, before sitting down by the drier parts of the sand, admiring how beautiful the waves looked. 

A few moments later, a familiar head peeped out from the water, causing you to laugh and wave at him. Namor uncharacteristically bore a grin at you, continuing to get out of water, the droplets from his hair magically disappearing with each step.

“I have a surprise for you.” was the first thing he said as he offered you a hand in getting up. You nodded, though a bit confused now. 

In his hands, you had finally taken notice of a makeshift waterproof bag tied by a drawstring along with a familiar plastic ziplock of papers. “Ay, onga pala! I accidentally left my papers…” You exclaimed, surprised that he kept them in such good condition.

Namor gingerly handed you the drawstring bag first, urging you to open it. “Please, have a look inside.” You hesitantly took it in your hands, noting the way the fabric practically had gold woven into it.

What you saw took your breath away, 

it was Pre-Colonial indigenous Filipino clothes.

You ran a hand through them, the fabric being silky yet cool to the touch. Just as how Filipino clothes were theorized to be. Somehow, Namor had found a way to wove it with gold, just as what your research had said. You felt tears well up in the corner of your eyes, it felt like a piece of history was being given back to you. 

 “Well? What are you waiting for?” Namor’s voice snapped you out of your stupor. You looked back at him, open-mouthed and too shocked to reply. He chuckled at you. “Try it on, in etail.”

Namor politely turned around, silently trying to hide and bury the way he felt when he heard fabric shifting and the likely assumption of you undressing. 

Your breath hitched as the feeling of the fabric against your skin was a comfortable one. It was perfectly tailored and made for you, as if someone had memorized every inch of your body down to the smallest details, the robes fitting like a glove on your body. 

“You can look now…” You managed to practically croak out, forever feeling thankful at such a kind gesture from no one other than Namor himself. 

The moment Namor turned around, he swore that he felt slightly lightheaded from how you managed to take his breath away with just your look. You looked like you were in your natural element, your most natural state.

It almost felt as if this was how you were supposed to be. 

The way the gold-woven fabric hung off your own copper skin had him thinking of thoughts he swore he would never have of surface-dwellers, and perhaps the most euphoric feeling was seeing the look on your face; the genuine joy and happiness. 

But wait, something was missing. 

He narrowed his eyes at you before rummaging through the bag he carried with him. Namor gently brought out familiar looking jewelry, though with its own twist.

“These… are also for you.”

Namor took your hand and placed it in his, slipping on a rather detailed and delicately made golden ring. He took both of your wrists and placed on them gold bracelets adorned with what appeared to be a jade material.

All the while, he made direct eye contact with you. You practically shook under his gaze, deeming it to be too intimate. 

Before you could process anything more, you felt the heat of Namor’s body behind your back, as you heard gold clinking together. His hot breath fanned on the back of your neck, as the heat in your ears never seemed to go away. 

You felt a heavy weighted necklace be placed onto your collarbone, before a click behind you was resounded. Namor’s hands lingered for a split second on the nape of your neck, before he practically ripped himself away and stood back, afraid of his own actions.

Your breath left your body for what felt like the nth time in the past 30 minutes, as you took the necklace between your fingers and observed the intricate designs of gold and jade beautifully fused together. 

All of this jewelry should have felt heavy, but to you they felt as if they were perfectly crafted and made for you and your people. It was as if these were all made with heavy and careful detail, making sure that they perfectly aligned with your own practices but still with its own twist and charm from the gifter.

You could never take back what the Spaniards have taken from your country, but it felt like a lost piece of your own heritage was being directly gifted to you, you could practically feel the pride of your ancestors. This was all so overwhelming. 

“K'uk'ulkan…” 

Namor suppressed the heat he felt as his natural name rolled off your tongue in such a breathless manner. 

Now, it was your turn to surprise as he did not anticipate that you would tackle him in a hug. You buried your face in his neck, not scared anymore of what he’d do. Namor’s own hands hesitantly placed themselves on your backside, before they tightened around you.

“Salamat… Salamat talaga, K'uk'ulkan…” Namor felt hot wet tears drip onto his shoulder. 

He hugged back even tighter.

“Mixba’al, in etail.” 

__________

BONUS:

“Okay, now ‘putangina mo’ means I like you.” You said to Namor, though the way you tried to (and failed) to hold back your laughter made him doubt that that was the meaning of the phrase.

“Is it really now?” You laughed, nodding profusely. “Hell yeah it is! We Pinoys use it all the time to compliment each other! Like, ‘putangina mo tol, ang guwapo mo nakakabakla ka na!’ ”

“ ‘Nakakabakla’?” Namor narrowed his eyes at you. Were you just messing with him? You laughed even more, clutching your sides by how much it hurt.

“Gaga, uto-uto ka talaga.”

Namor had a deep feeling in his stomach that you were insulting him (he was right) so he stood up and sighed, walking back towards the sea.

“What the-! Hey! Where are you going?!”

“K'a' ak'ate.”

“Aw c’mon K'uk'ulkan! Can’t you take a joke?!”

He was already gone by the time you had said that.

tags: @avaleineandafryingpan @queenotaku23 @cherryloaf

a piece of your history.

Pairing: Namor x Filipino!Reader

Rating: Mature, Comedy (No smut but there is tension)

Summary: It hurts to not be able to properly recreate your traditional pre-colonial Filipino clothing, and Namor takes notice of this feeling of yours.

Word Count: 2,578

Content Warning: Mentions of colonialization

Disclaimer: Namor is kind of cold and dark towards reader!! Idk if its ooc but i would imagine that he would generally be apprehensive towards a surface dweller. you have been warned

__________

“Do you like it?”

You asked, grinning, slightly turning yourself around in order to fully show off your work proudly.

Namor hummed, sitting in the water by the shore of the beach. He was always like this, meeting up with you now and again. 

“Is this the wear of your people?” He asked. You grinned and nodded, letting out small chuckles while fiddling with the fabric between your fingers. You had always wanted to make the Pre-Colonial traditional clothing of your Filipino ancestors, it was the closest thing you had of home as of now. 

The process was tedious, you admit that. So little resources or references online on how your specific region’s clothing looked– much less how it was made, due to how much the Spaniards burned and banned, but you had still managed to gather enough to make one as accurately as possible.

“It’s… beautiful.” He simply says, eyeing up the clothes and how it wrapped around your body, causing you to tear your eyes away from him in fear of showing how his compliment affected you in such a way. 

“Why have your people stopped wearing this? Are they not your traditional wear?” Namor asked, remembering the photos of your family that you had shown him. They were wearing what you had called a “baro’t saya” and “barong” for the celebration of “Buwan ng Wika” as he recalled it.

“It’s gorgeous, and made by the hands of your people instead of the colonizers.” He continued, “It escapes me on why your people have abandoned wearing your traditional garbs, instead choosing to wear what they gave you.” This statement slightly irked you, causing you to deadpan at him.

“Dude, we were enslaved and tortured by them for more than 300 years.” You crossed your arms. “Do you think we abandoned it willingly?” You were met with silence, and for once, Namor was the one who was left speechless by bluntness.

“... Right. My apologies.” Was all Namor could reply, causing you to let out a small laugh, shaking your head. It’s not often you’re the one leaving him silent, with him often bashing “surface dwellers”, causing you to regularly remind him that you yourself are a surface dweller. 

Namor never had a proper reply for that.

However, even if you were happy with your work, you still frowned and sighed. You dragged your fingers along the cloth, wistfully looking at its patterns. Namor’s eyes followed the way your face curled up to a grimace, causing him to frown even more (if that was even possible) in confusion. 

“It’s not much, though. The fabric’s sorta cheap ‘cause it was the only one I could find that had this specific pattern. I had to pick between comfortability or accuracy.” You sulked, sitting down on the dry sand close to him. You hugged your knees close to your chest, already itchy from the scratchy inside of the fabric.

“I chose accuracy, of course… for them.” You vaguely finished, slightly bitter on how hard it was to make your country’s real traditional clothing in an authentic way. You palmed the sand, looking for your bag before taking out your trusty cellphone. 

Ah, surface dwellers and their hand-held yet fragile technologies… Namor thought as you typed and scrolled away at your phone. 

“I mean, look at this!” You held your phone out, showing what appeared to be a real life replica of your garbs, just made in a better way. Namor narrowed his eyes in confusion. 

“So your people still make this?” 

“Well technically yes, but no? God, I wish, though. This is just a historical costume for entertainment…” You replied, huffing. 

“Tangina talaga ng Espanya…” You grumbled under your breath. Namor chuckled at you, as he had heard you swear in your mother tongue (he was sure it was a swear– it was literally the first word you had taught him) at one of your country’s past colonizers.

“Jay, ba'ax jaaj le je'elo'...” He replied, agreeing, though this did cause your face to slightly feel warmer. You would never admit it to his face, but him speaking his native language was kinda hot.

You let out a small chuckle, before wistfully sighing and looking at the sky. 

“You know… I’m kinda jealous of you and your people.” Namor rose an eyebrow at you, his head turning to look at you. You put your hands up in mock defense, clearly meaning well.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way! And yeah, you guys have faced struggles with pollution, junk and also colonizer stuff… It’s just… y’know…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bashful. Namor’s gaze softened, as he nodded to indicate that you continue. You breathed in deeply.

“Well, I mean, you guys got to keep your culture intact, no outside forces ripping it away from you.” You mumbled, picking at the sand that got between your nails.

“No forgotten gods… no forgotten stories… no forgotten practices.” You longingly looked at the sea.

You snorted, though. “Even if they tried, you could still put up a fight and protect it.” You smiled at him, causing him to avert his gaze and look back at the ocean.

“I just… I just wish I could salvage at least a small part of it.” You finished, already feeling your throat close up and tears form in your eyes. God, why did you have to be so emotional? Putangina naman… 

For a beat or two, Namor stayed quiet. You already felt dread setting in your stomach, oh god. What if he had another diva moment and dove back in the water? Before you could panic even more, you heard the water move, as water droplets seem to fall from sky and onto you. You looked up in confusion, squinting your eyes at Namor, who had stood up from his place to sit closer to you.

“... May I see more of these garbs?” 

Your frown was replaced with a smile, as you swallowed back the lump and blinked away the oncoming tears. “Sure! I have so many saved and printed– it’s important to have references before crafting, after all!” 

Your signature grin was back as you happily took out what looked to be a plastic bag containing pictures that looked similar to your clothes. You happily explained away, showing him more and more photos– though he did notice that you had backed up a bit when he came a bit too close to your personal space. 

He followed along as you showed more and more photos– along with more pictures of Pre-Colonial jewelry that you wanted to replicate yourself. He noticed the way you would stop and longingly gaze at them, before continuing on with explaining.

Namor watched the way your eyes would brighten as you talked more and more about your history, before they would dim as you brought up on why it was not used by your people in the modern day anymore. 

“... And yeah, that’s pretty much what my own region wears! Though, it does get a bit tricky to see if it really is my region per say,” Namor looked at you, a bit confused but waiting for you to continue. Your smile grew wider. 

“All regions basically have a lot of similarities and differences! So sometimes it gets a bit confusing.” You rambled, before noticing yourself and getting a bit embarrassed. Namor softly smiled at you. 

“This just shows how rich the cultures of your people are, in etail.” 

You blinked before letting out a joyous laugh, surprised that Namor of all people complimented you! (Well, to be more precise, your heritage). You were about to reply before your eyes caught sight of the time on your phone. “Ay gago! Ang late na pala! I still have to call my parents!” You put on your coat over your work, before shoving your phone back in your bag. 

Before you could properly stand up, a hand on your wrist stopped you. Your brain loaded for a few seconds, your eyes following the hand and how it trailed back to Namor. “Come back here in two days time.” He asked (more of demanded).

You gawked at him, this was the first time he ever confirmed that you were going to see him! Most of the time, he simply came and went as he pleased. The look in his eyes already made it impossible to say no, so of course refusing him was not an option. 

“I-I…” You stammered, meeting his eyes that had so much emotion in them. You gulped. “Okay! See you in… two days, dude!” You quickly went on your way home.

Namor nodded at you, before he caught sight of the familiar plastic ziplock you had left behind. Before he could call out to you, you were already too far away, and if he were to approach you someone would surely see him.  

Namor watched your back fade from the distance, already confirming the idea forming in his head. He nodded to himself, before grabbing the ziplock bag and diving back into the sea, making sure to not let anything get wet. 

__________

You practically ran towards the beach as you grinned, excited that your.. Friend(?) or Frenemy(?) personally requested your presence. You cleared your throat and attempted to act cool, though severely failing, before sitting down by the drier parts of the sand, admiring how beautiful the waves looked. 

A few moments later, a familiar head peeped out from the water, causing you to laugh and wave at him. Namor uncharacteristically bore a grin at you, continuing to get out of water, the droplets from his hair magically disappearing with each step.

“I have a surprise for you.” was the first thing he said as he offered you a hand in getting up. You nodded, though a bit confused now. 

In his hands, you had finally taken notice of a makeshift waterproof bag tied by a drawstring along with a familiar plastic ziplock of papers. “Ay, onga pala! I accidentally left my papers…” You exclaimed, surprised that he kept them in such good condition.

Namor gingerly handed you the drawstring bag first, urging you to open it. “Please, have a look inside.” You hesitantly took it in your hands, noting the way the fabric practically had gold woven into it.

What you saw took your breath away, 

it was Pre-Colonial indigenous Filipino clothes! 

You ran a hand through them, the fabric being silky yet cool to the touch. Just as how Filipino clothes were theorized to be. Somehow, Namor had found a way to wove it with gold, just as what your research had said. You felt tears well up in the corner of your eyes, it felt like a piece of history was being given back to you. 

 “Well? What are you waiting for?” Namor’s voice snapped you out of your stupor. You looked back at him, open-mouthed and too shocked to reply. He chuckled at you. “Try it on, in etail.”

Namor politely turned around, silently trying to hide and bury the way he felt when he heard fabric shifting and the likely assumption of you undressing. 

Your breath hitched as the feeling of the fabric against your skin was a comfortable one. It was perfectly tailored and made for you, as if someone had memorized every inch of your body down to the smallest details, the robes fitting like a glove on your body. 

“You can look now…” You managed to practically croak out, forever feeling thankful at such a kind gesture from no one other than Namor himself. 

The moment Namor turned around, he swore that he felt slightly lightheaded from how you managed to take his breath away with just your look. You looked like you were in your natural element, your most natural state.

It almost felt as if this was how you were supposed to be. 

The way the gold-woven fabric hung off your own copper skin had him thinking of thoughts he swore he would never have of surface-dwellers, and perhaps the most euphoric feeling was seeing the look on your face; the genuine joy and happiness. 

But wait, something was missing. 

He narrowed his eyes at you before rummaging through the bag he carried with him. Namor gently brought out familiar looking jewelry, though with its own twist.

“These… are also for you.”

Namor took your hand and placed it in his, slipping on a rather detailed and delicately made golden ring. He took both of your wrists and placed on them gold bracelets adorned with what appeared to be a jade material.

All the while, he made direct eye contact with you. You practically shook under his gaze, deeming it to be too intimate. 

Before you could process anything more, you felt the heat of Namor’s body behind your back, as you heard gold clinking together. His hot breath fanned on the back of your neck, as the heat in your ears never seemed to go away. 

You felt a heavy weighted necklace be placed onto your collarbone, before a click behind you was resounded. Namor’s hands lingered for a split second on the nape of your neck, before he practically ripped himself away and stood back, afraid of his own actions.

Your breath left your body for what felt like the nth time in the past 30 minutes, as you took the necklace between your fingers and observed the intricate designs of gold and jade beautifully fused together. 

All of this jewelry should have felt heavy, but to you they felt as if they were perfectly crafted and made for you and your people. It was as if these were all made with heavy and careful detail, making sure that they perfectly aligned with your own practices but still with its own twist and charm from the gifter.

You could never take back what the Spaniards have taken from your country, but it felt like a lost piece of your own heritage was being directly gifted to you, you could practically feel the pride of your ancestors. This was all so overwhelming. 

“K'uk'ulkan…” 

Namor suppressed the heat he felt as his natural name rolled off your tongue in such a breathless manner. 

Now, it was your turn to surprise as he did not anticipate that you would tackle him in a hug. You buried your face in his neck, not scared anymore of what he’d do. Namor’s own hands hesitantly placed themselves on your backside, before they tightened around you.

“Salamat… Salamat talaga, K'uk'ulkan…” Namor felt hot wet tears drip onto his shoulder. 

He hugged back even tighter.

“Mixba’al, in etail.” 

__________

BONUS:

“Okay, now ‘putangina mo’ means I like you.” You said to Namor, though the way you tried to (and failed) to hold back your laughter made him doubt that that was the meaning of the phrase.

“Is it really now?” You laughed, nodding profusely. “Hell yeah it is! We Pinoys use it all the time to compliment each other! Like, ‘putangina mo tol, ang guwapo mo nakakabakla ka na!’ ”

“ ‘Nakakabakla’?” Namor narrowed his eyes at you. Were you just messing with him? You laughed even more, clutching your sides by how much it hurt.

“Gaga, uto-uto ka talaga.”

Namor had a deep feeling in his stomach that you were insulting him (he was right) so he stood up and sighed, walking back towards the sea.

“What the-! Hey! Where are you going?!”

“K'a' ak'ate.”

“Aw c’mon K'uk'ulkan! Can’t you take a joke?!”

He was already gone by the time you had said that.

a piece of your history.

Pairing: Namor x Filipino!Reader

Rating: Mature, Comedy (No smut but there is tension)

Summary: It hurts to not be able to properly recreate your traditional pre-colonial Filipino clothing, and Namor takes notice of this feeling of yours.

Word Count: 2,578

Content Warning: Mentions of colonialization

Disclaimer: Namor is kind of cold and dark towards reader!! Idk if its ooc but i would imagine that he would generally be apprehensive towards a surface dweller. you have been warned

__________

“Do you like it?”

You asked, grinning, slightly turning yourself around in order to fully show off your work proudly.

Namor hummed, sitting in the water by the shore of the beach. He was always like this, meeting up with you now and again. 

“Is this the wear of your people?” He asked. You grinned and nodded, letting out small chuckles while fiddling with the fabric between your fingers. You had always wanted to make the Pre-Colonial traditional clothing of your Filipino ancestors, it was the closest thing you had of home as of now. 

The process was tedious, you admit that. So little resources or references online on how your specific region’s clothing looked– much less how it was made, due to how much the Spaniards burned and banned, but you had still managed to gather enough to make one as accurately as possible.

“It’s… beautiful.” He simply says, eyeing up the clothes and how it wrapped around your body, causing you to tear your eyes away from him in fear of showing how his compliment affected you in such a way. 

“Why have your people stopped wearing this? Are they not your traditional wear?” Namor asked, remembering the photos of your family that you had shown him. They were wearing what you had called a “baro’t saya” and “barong” for the celebration of “Buwan ng Wika” as he recalled it.

“It’s gorgeous, and made by the hands of your people instead of the colonizers.” He continued, “It escapes me on why your people have abandoned wearing your traditional garbs, instead choosing to wear what they gave you.” This statement slightly irked you, causing you to deadpan at him.

“Dude, we were enslaved and tortured by them for more than 300 years.” You crossed your arms. “Do you think we abandoned it willingly?” You were met with silence, and for once, Namor was the one who was left speechless by bluntness.

“... Right. My apologies.” Was all Namor could reply, causing you to let out a small laugh, shaking your head. It’s not often you’re the one leaving him silent, with him often bashing “surface dwellers”, causing you to regularly remind him that you yourself are a surface dweller. 

Namor never had a proper reply for that.

However, even if you were happy with your work, you still frowned and sighed. You dragged your fingers along the cloth, wistfully looking at its patterns. Namor’s eyes followed the way your face curled up to a grimace, causing him to frown even more (if that was even possible) in confusion. 

“It’s not much, though. The fabric’s sorta cheap ‘cause it was the only one I could find that had this specific pattern. I had to pick between comfortability or accuracy.” You sulked, sitting down on the dry sand close to him. You hugged your knees close to your chest, already itchy from the scratchy inside of the fabric.

“I chose accuracy, of course… for them.” You vaguely finished, slightly bitter on how hard it was to make your country’s real traditional clothing in an authentic way. You palmed the sand, looking for your bag before taking out your trusty cellphone. 

Ah, surface dwellers and their hand-held yet fragile technologies… Namor thought as you typed and scrolled away at your phone. 

“I mean, look at this!” You held your phone out, showing what appeared to be a real life replica of your garbs, just made in a better way. Namor narrowed his eyes in confusion. 

“So your people still make this?” 

“Well technically yes, but no? God, I wish, though. This is just a historical costume for entertainment…” You replied, huffing. 

“Tangina talaga ng Espanya…” You grumbled under your breath. Namor chuckled at you, as he had heard you swear in your mother tongue (he was sure it was a swear– it was literally the first word you had taught him) at one of your country’s past colonizers.

“Jay, ba'ax jaaj le je'elo'...” He replied, agreeing, though this did cause your face to slightly feel warmer. You would never admit it to his face, but him speaking his native language was kinda hot.

You let out a small chuckle, before wistfully sighing and looking at the sky. 

“You know… I’m kinda jealous of you and your people.” Namor rose an eyebrow at you, his head turning to look at you. You put your hands up in mock defense, clearly meaning well.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way! And yeah, you guys have faced struggles with pollution, junk and also colonizer stuff… It’s just… y’know…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bashful. Namor’s gaze softened, as he nodded to indicate that you continue. You breathed in deeply.

“Well, I mean, you guys got to keep your culture intact, no outside forces ripping it away from you.” You mumbled, picking at the sand that got between your nails.

“No forgotten gods… no forgotten stories… no forgotten practices.” You longingly looked at the sea.

You snorted, though. “Even if they tried, you could still put up a fight and protect it.” You smiled at him, causing him to avert his gaze and look back at the ocean.

“I just… I just wish I could salvage at least a small part of it.” You finished, already feeling your throat close up and tears form in your eyes. God, why did you have to be so emotional? Putangina naman… 

For a beat or two, Namor stayed quiet. You already felt dread setting in your stomach, oh god. What if he had another diva moment and dove back in the water? Before you could panic even more, you heard the water move, as water droplets seem to fall from sky and onto you. You looked up in confusion, squinting your eyes at Namor, who had stood up from his place to sit closer to you.

“... May I see more of these garbs?” 

Your frown was replaced with a smile, as you swallowed back the lump and blinked away the oncoming tears. “Sure! I have so many saved and printed– it’s important to have references before crafting, after all!” 

Your signature grin was back as you happily took out what looked to be a plastic bag containing pictures that looked similar to your clothes. You happily explained away, showing him more and more photos– though he did notice that you had backed up a bit when he came a bit too close to your personal space. 

He followed along as you showed more and more photos– along with more pictures of Pre-Colonial jewelry that you wanted to replicate yourself. He noticed the way you would stop and longingly gaze at them, before continuing on with explaining.

Namor watched the way your eyes would brighten as you talked more and more about your history, before they would dim as you brought up on why it was not used by your people in the modern day anymore. 

“... And yeah, that’s pretty much what my own region wears! Though, it does get a bit tricky to see if it really is my region per say,” Namor looked at you, a bit confused but waiting for you to continue. Your smile grew wider. 

“All regions basically have a lot of similarities and differences! So sometimes it gets a bit confusing.” You rambled, before noticing yourself and getting a bit embarrassed. Namor softly smiled at you. 

“This just shows how rich the cultures of your people are, in etail.” 

You blinked before letting out a joyous laugh, surprised that Namor of all people complimented you! (Well, to be more precise, your heritage). You were about to reply before your eyes caught sight of the time on your phone. “Ay gago! Ang late na pala! I still have to call my parents!” You put on your coat over your work, before shoving your phone back in your bag. 

Before you could properly stand up, a hand on your wrist stopped you. Your brain loaded for a few seconds, your eyes following the hand and how it trailed back to Namor. “Come back here in two days time.” He asked (more of demanded).

You gawked at him, this was the first time he ever confirmed that you were going to see him! Most of the time, he simply came and went as he pleased. The look in his eyes already made it impossible to say no, so of course refusing him was not an option. 

“I-I…” You stammered, meeting his eyes that had so much emotion in them. You gulped. “Okay! See you in… two days, dude!” You quickly went on your way home.

Namor nodded at you, before he caught sight of the familiar plastic ziplock you had left behind. Before he could call out to you, you were already too far away, and if he were to approach you someone would surely see him.  

Namor watched your back fade from the distance, already confirming the idea forming in his head. He nodded to himself, before grabbing the ziplock bag and diving back into the sea, making sure to not let anything get wet. 

__________

You practically ran towards the beach as you grinned, excited that your.. Friend(?) or Frenemy(?) personally requested your presence. You cleared your throat and attempted to act cool, though severely failing, before sitting down by the drier parts of the sand, admiring how beautiful the waves looked. 

A few moments later, a familiar head peeped out from the water, causing you to laugh and wave at him. Namor uncharacteristically bore a grin at you, continuing to get out of water, the droplets from his hair magically disappearing with each step.

“I have a surprise for you.” was the first thing he said as he offered you a hand in getting up. You nodded, though a bit confused now. 

In his hands, you had finally taken notice of a makeshift waterproof bag tied by a drawstring along with a familiar plastic ziplock of papers. “Ay, onga pala! I accidentally left my papers…” You exclaimed, surprised that he kept them in such good condition.

Namor gingerly handed you the drawstring bag first, urging you to open it. “Please, have a look inside.” You hesitantly took it in your hands, noting the way the fabric practically had gold woven into it.

What you saw took your breath away, 

it was Pre-Colonial indigenous Filipino clothes! 

You ran a hand through them, the fabric being silky yet cool to the touch. Just as how Filipino clothes were theorized to be. Somehow, Namor had found a way to wove it with gold, just as what your research had said. You felt tears well up in the corner of your eyes, it felt like a piece of history was being given back to you. 

 “Well? What are you waiting for?” Namor’s voice snapped you out of your stupor. You looked back at him, open-mouthed and too shocked to reply. He chuckled at you. “Try it on, in etail.”

Namor politely turned around, silently trying to hide and bury the way he felt when he heard fabric shifting and the likely assumption of you undressing. 

Your breath hitched as the feeling of the fabric against your skin was a comfortable one. It was perfectly tailored and made for you, as if someone had memorized every inch of your body down to the smallest details, the robes fitting like a glove on your body. 

“You can look now…” You managed to practically croak out, forever feeling thankful at such a kind gesture from no one other than Namor himself. 

The moment Namor turned around, he swore that he felt slightly lightheaded from how you managed to take his breath away with just your look. You looked like you were in your natural element, your most natural state.

It almost felt as if this was how you were supposed to be. 

The way the gold-woven fabric hung off your own copper skin had him thinking of thoughts he swore he would never have of surface-dwellers, and perhaps the most euphoric feeling was seeing the look on your face; the genuine joy and happiness. 

But wait, something was missing. 

He narrowed his eyes at you before rummaging through the bag he carried with him. Namor gently brought out familiar looking jewelry, though with its own twist.

“These… are also for you.”

Namor took your hand and placed it in his, slipping on a rather detailed and delicately made golden ring. He took both of your wrists and placed on them gold bracelets adorned with what appeared to be a jade material.

All the while, he made direct eye contact with you. You practically shook under his gaze, deeming it to be too intimate. 

Before you could process anything more, you felt the heat of Namor’s body behind your back, as you heard gold clinking together. His hot breath fanned on the back of your neck, as the heat in your ears never seemed to go away. 

You felt a heavy weighted necklace be placed onto your collarbone, before a click behind you was resounded. Namor’s hands lingered for a split second on the nape of your neck, before he practically ripped himself away and stood back, afraid of his own actions.

Your breath left your body for what felt like the nth time in the past 30 minutes, as you took the necklace between your fingers and observed the intricate designs of gold and jade beautifully fused together. 

All of this jewelry should have felt heavy, but to you they felt as if they were perfectly crafted and made for you and your people. It was as if these were all made with heavy and careful detail, making sure that they perfectly aligned with your own practices but still with its own twist and charm from the gifter.

You could never take back what the Spaniards have taken from your country, but it felt like a lost piece of your own heritage was being directly gifted to you, you could practically feel the pride of your ancestors. This was all so overwhelming. 

“K'uk'ulkan…” 

Namor suppressed the heat he felt as his natural name rolled off your tongue in such a breathless manner. 

Now, it was your turn to surprise as he did not anticipate that you would tackle him in a hug. You buried your face in his neck, not scared anymore of what he’d do. Namor’s own hands hesitantly placed themselves on your backside, before they tightened around you.

“Salamat… Salamat talaga, K'uk'ulkan…” Namor felt hot wet tears drip onto his shoulder. 

He hugged back even tighter.

“Mixba’al, in etail.” 

__________

BONUS:

“Okay, now ‘putangina mo’ means I like you.” You said to Namor, though the way you tried to (and failed) to hold back your laughter made him doubt that that was the meaning of the phrase.

“Is it really now?” You laughed, nodding profusely. “Hell yeah it is! We Pinoys use it all the time to compliment each other! Like, ‘putangina mo tol, ang guwapo mo nakakabakla ka na!’ ”

“ ‘Nakakabakla’?” Namor narrowed his eyes at you. Were you just messing with him? You laughed even more, clutching your sides by how much it hurt.

“Gaga, uto-uto ka talaga.”

Namor had a deep feeling in his stomach that you were insulting him (he was right) so he stood up and sighed, walking back towards the sea.

“What the-! Hey! Where are you going?!”

“K'a' ak'ate.”

“Aw c’mon K'uk'ulkan! Can’t you take a joke?!”

He was already gone by the time you had said that.

ok so i may have decided to make a namor x filipino!reader miniseries!!! writing "a piece of your memory." was so fun and i wanna try my hand at writing more!! the series isnt really linear and follows more of their moments together, and its more of a "reluctant acquaintances to friends ig to ACTUAL friends to lovers" series :DD but ofc when i post the fic of how they met thats technically the "prologue" ig

here are some ideas :DDD

"beloved."

Pairing: Namor x Filipino!Reader

Rating: General Audiences, Comedy

Summary: You ask your... "sorta" friend what the meaning of his other name is. His answers break your heart, so you take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 2,516

Content Warning: Mentions of colonialization

Disclaimer: Again, as mentioned before, Namor is slightly cold towards the reader! He isnt hateful or anything, just has his guard up bc of surface world resentment. Though, that guard can be taken back down sometimes ;)

__________

Reminder: This fic is part of a Namor x Filipino!Reader miniseries, but can be read on its own! Miniseries fic(s):

a piece of your history. / "beloved."

__________

The soft tune of a Filipino song played in the air, its melody dancing along with the sounds of the waves hitting the sand. Namor could only make out a few words within the song as he remembered the few phrases you had taught him. The melody was nice and eased his nerves, though he would never admit that to your face.

“What did they call you again?”

Namor blinked, processing your sudden question for a few seconds. Before you had suddenly asked him a question, you were both simply by the shore of the beach you frequented, with him in the water and you in the dry sand as usual, reading to him aloud a book that had come across your interests.

He looked at you questioningly, causing you to sputter over your words. “Oh! I meant what the Spaniards had called you when they…” You trailed off, fearing that you may have crossed a line with him this time. You knew how sore the topic was already, despite not knowing the full details as Namor refused to show any hint of vulnerability with you (or so you thought).

“What I mean is…” You cleared your throat, already bracing yourself for his reaction. 

“.... Why do certain people have to call you ‘Namor’?” You finished, closing the book, shifting to fully turning to him, indicating that you were paying special attention. The cogs clicked in place in Namor’s head as he finally understood your question. He noticed that you had said ‘certain people’ instead of enemies, likely the reason being you two weren’t exactly enemies nor friends in both of your books. 

“Uhm, you don’t have to answer if it’s too… y’know….” You quickly added, waving your hands in a dismissive manner. Namor’s eyebrows raised at you, causing your face to heat up. “I mean… alam naman natin na gago sila…” You quickly mumbled the last part. 

Namor seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, before he shook his head and chuckled. “No, I can answer if you would like me to.” 

Namor ran his fingers through the water, clearly contemplating on how he should approach your question. He smiled bitterly at you as he remembered the hateful memory. Your hands immediately went to your phone, turning the volume down on the classic OPM playlist you were playing.

“When my mother died, she asked to be buried in her homeland,” He started, playing with the wet sand underneath the water. Namor smiled, a loving look overtook his bitter expression.

“She wanted to show me the surface world and its beauty.” Her soft and caring smile flashed in his mind, it was as if he could still remember the days where she hugged him with such care. His mother was always so gentle, so sweet with him. 

The prolonged gentle expression on Namor’s face was an unfamiliar one, as it was often hardened or practically deadpanned at you. You were only used to the occasional soft glimpses in his eyes.

A small part of you wished you could see this type of his face more, but that was crossing the line in your book.

“But, when I arrived…” Namor’s expression soon darkened. “They were here.” You winced, knowing exactly who he was talking about. He grit his teeth.

“They called me… ‘El Niño sin Amor’.” 

He looked back at the sea, feeling that if he stared at you, you would see nothing more than hate and anger burn in his eyes, a look that would most likely scare you away. You don’t know if it helped, but you nodded understandingly, almost as if implying that he can feel if he wants to.

Namor could remember the look of fear and hatred in the man’s eyes, as if the Spaniards didn’t force him and his people to retreat in the ocean due to the illness inflicted upon them by the colonizers, before enslaving those who remained on land. 

“The child without love, as they boasted.” Namor spoke in a rather biting sarcastic tone. Though he was smiling, the grin on his face was one of anger, holding no genuine joy or happiness in it.

“I took Namor from that, because I have no-” His eyes locked with you for a brief second before he averted his gaze. “-love for the surface.”

Your fingers played with the cover of the book you were holding, as you frowned even more and stared at him in disbelief. 

“Luh? So bale, you were called a loveless child,” You began, a startled impression on your face, “just because you killed the colonizers after they basically enslaved and killed your people?” You asked for clarification, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. Namor nodded, a rather grim smile on his face.

“Aba, ang kakapal ng mukha nila ah…” You grumbled, before muttering something about how hypocritical and barbaric they were. Namor smiled gratefully at you, knowing you shared the same sentiment. 

He sighed, as if tired of having to relive the same memory over and over again. Namor looked back at the sea, a subtle slouch in his posture now. 

For a moment, you both sat there in silence, contemplating the lives of those who lived before (at least in your case) you. So many of Namor’s people were enslaved and forced by the Spaniards, yet they dare to call him the loveless child?

You pursed your lips, your eyes looking over Namor.

He wasn’t a child without love. His mother had loved him so, it was obvious by the way his voice would hush into a gentle baritone each time she was brought up.

His people loved him so, or at least, that’s what you can make up from his stories. You’ve only ever been able to gaze at them from afar in the sea, whenever they occasionally came to check up on him. Though with the way they addressed him you could easily see the fondness.

An idea popped into your head, though you were a bit hesitant to actually do it. 

“Hey,” You called out, scooting closer to him, the waves licking at your feet. Namor rose an eyebrow at you, though your invasion of his personal space did not deter him.

Finally, you sat in the water next to him, perhaps this was one of the very few times you were both less than three feet apart. Namor’s mouth opened, about to tell you off that your clothes were getting wet and rather quite see-through.

You snickered, a mischievous look overtaking your eyes, a look that Namor was quite familiar with. Too familiar with it, he adds to himself. 

You pointed at his face, before your pointer finger came into contact with the scrunch between his eyebrows.

Namor’s brain went blank, processing exactly what you had done to him. Before he can even make a reaction, you cut him off.

“Iniirog.” 

You started slowly, gauging for his reaction. Namor’s eyes narrowed at you, confused but not offended. Your smile soon went into a toothy grin. 

“Sinisinta.” 

Namor grabbed your wrist and pulled away from your finger, clearly puzzled. The soft, cool touch of his damp fingers sent goosebumps up your back, but you continued nevertheless.

“Kinagigiliwan.” 

You were practically giggling at this point, leaning your body towards him, as if to tease him about the words you were uttering, completely dismissing that he had not understood what you were saying.

Hesitantly, your hand went to reach for his, causing him to flinch. You took Namor’s hand between both of yours, softly tracing the palm lines on it. 

“Minamahal.”

His senses were being overloaded, the low volume of the OPM Playlist still playing in the background, though it felt as if it was echoing rather loudly in his ears.

Namor’s eyes met yours, he remembers what the word “mahal” means. But that couldn’t possibly be what you’re saying, right? Were you instead perhaps meaning another thing? (He was sure that mahal meant expensive as well, were you just messing with him and calling him expensive?)

One of your hands stopped playing with his and reached towards his face, caressing his cheek softly. You contemplated running a hand on his pointy ears. However, you decided you wanted to keep your hand intact with your body.

Namor could do nothing but stare at you, his free hand coming up to hold yours that was on his cheek, though he made no move to remove your hand. If you were to look closer, it was as if he was leaning into your touch. 

Your thumb softly grazed his upper cheek.

“Nagmamahal.”

With the way Namor talked fondly about his people, you couldn’t help but notice the love and adoration in his eyes. He truly loved his people and protected them with his whole heart. 

Even if Namor couldn’t fully understand what you were saying to him, he could still somewhat comprehend what you were trying to say.

Namor was not a child without love, he has loved and has been loved. He will continue to love and he will continue to be loved, you were sure of that.

To your and his surprise, his eyes fluttered close as he leaned into the warm touch of your hand against his damp cheek. The feeling was scorching against his cool skin, yet it brought comfort to him even so. 

A part of him wanted this moment to never end, the soft tunes of your mother tongue playing in the background, as you practically showered him with affection that you two had an unspoken agreement about.

Soon, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

The hand on his face traced his cheek softly, before it came and pinched it rather aggressively. 

Namor’s eyes snapped open as he suddenly experienced a rather painful pinch to the cheek. Your ninangs would be proud of you if they saw the red mark on his skin right now. You snickered, making kissy-faces at him.

“Bebeluvs~” He deadpanned at you, fully knowing the sound of your rather trickster voice.

“My sexy, sexy love!” You finished, laughing so much your stomach hurt. You knew that Namor probably wouldn’t get the reference, but you couldn’t help yourself from quoting none other than the queen herself, Kathryn Bernardo. 

You were still laughing, peeving Namor a bit. This caused him to pull away from your touch and some distance between the two of you. The laughter soon died in your throat, as you instantly sort of regretted the fact that you ruined the moment. Shet, maybe you should’ve maintained the wholesome moment just a bit longer.

You fully expected him to stand up and leave you there in the water again, already used to him doing it with the many, many times you’ve tried to trick him into saying rather comically funny words in your language. Namor could always figure you out, though it may be because of the way you haven’t been able to stop yourself from laughing each time.

To your surprise, he simply stayed there, a contemplative look on his face as he looked down at the water he was in. 

You cleared your throat, scooting closer to him once again. You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say next now that you have feared you may have offended him. Namor’s voice soon filled the one-sided awkward silence left in the air.

“Your words… What did they mean?”

You beamed at him, jumping at the chance to answer. “They can all actually mean different things! ‘Iniirog’ for example can mea-” A single stare from Namor shut you up from overcomplicating the answer, though it did not stop you from grumbling about the complex meanings of the words.

“Uhm, well, generally, they all kinda mean…” You whispered the last part, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed that you had even started all of this. 

Namor sighed heavily, staring at you in dismay by your sudden bashfulness that always seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Ka a'alé, speak up.” His body turned towards you more as he leaned his head down in order to listen more carefully.

You shakily let out a breath, fully preparing to face his rageful wrath yet again. 

(You were exaggerating, the most he’s ever done is splash water directly into your face. Though it did go straight to your eyes once, you never forgave him for that.)

“Uhm, what I meant to say was…” You were stalling again, nervously fiddling with your fingers on your lap, flexing them under the water. 

Namor sighed. “If you can’t say them to my face, why say them at a-”

“THEY ALL MEAN ‘BELOVED’!” 

You practically shouted at him, shocking him to his core. You swore you could feel the water suddenly shift. Oh no, what if the Talokanil have been watching you all this time and you just shouted at their king?! 

“Or… Haha… Other things as well.” 

At this point, you were just trying to fill in the rather thick silence in the air. “But uhm, they could all also mean beloved.”

Meanwhile, Namor stayed silent at your confession. Have you been whispering to him such intimate words of affection all this time?

“All those words… were you calling me ‘beloved’?” At this, you shook your head slowly, confusing him even more.

“.... Actually, the last part means something else.” You felt like you were hyperventilating at this point. Perhaps you’ve ruined your favorite OPM playlist forever, as you will always associate it with this moment.

“The… The last part means ‘loving’...” You weakly replied, not daring to meet his eyes. You feel like you’ve royally screwed up, banished from the ocean even. Goodbye, night swimming, you will be dearly missed.

You slowly looked, bracing yourself for his reaction. The scene made your jaw drop, and Namor’s face would have been priceless to you if the situation hadn’t called for it. 

The flusteredness on his face would’ve caught anyone off-guard. The way his eyebrows raised as the corner of his eyes pinched at the corners. His lips were slightly open, as if to say that he was too shocked to even close his mouth. 

Soon, however, Namor finally came to his senses. He finally realized what you had been trying to say to him all this time.

They had called him “the child without love” in their spitting, hateful language.

And you had called him such loving words in your native language, as if to imply that they were wrong.

When you scooted closer to him once more, he didn't flinch or pull away this time. You blinked at his movements, noting the way he slightly leaned onto you again.

“... Niib'oolal." was the only thing Namor said after a few minutes.

You’ve talked to him enough to know what that means.

You gleefully smiled at him, before clearing your throat and relaxing your posture.

“Psh, ako pa? Wala lang yun, K’uk’ulkan.”

The soft tunes of the OPM playlist from your phone continued playing in the air, and the cold feeling of the water soon came to feel like a warm embrace instead.

I WOULD SHARE BUT LIKE ME WHEN MY OPM PLAYLIST IS KINDA TRASHY 😭

"beloved."

Pairing: Namor x Filipino!Reader

Rating: General Audiences, Comedy

Summary: You ask your... "sorta" friend what the meaning of his other name is. His answers break your heart, so you take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 2,516

Content Warning: Mentions of colonialization

Disclaimer: Again, as mentioned before, Namor is slightly cold towards the reader! He isnt hateful or anything, just has his guard up bc of surface world resentment. Though, that guard can be taken back down sometimes ;)

a piece of your history.

a piece of your history.

a piece of your history.

__________

The soft tune of a Filipino song played in the air, its melody dancing along with the sounds of the waves hitting the sand. Namor could only make out a few words within the song as he remembered the few phrases you had taught him. The melody was nice and eased his nerves, though he would never admit that to your face.

“What did they call you again?”

Namor blinked, processing your sudden question for a few seconds. Before you had suddenly asked him a question, you were both simply by the shore of the beach you frequented, with him in the water and you in the dry sand as usual, reading to him aloud a book that had come across your interests.

He looked at you questioningly, causing you to sputter over your words. “Oh! I meant what the Spaniards had called you when they…” You trailed off, fearing that you may have crossed a line with him this time. You knew how sore the topic was already, despite not knowing the full details as Namor refused to show any hint of vulnerability with you (or so you thought).

“What I mean is…” You cleared your throat, already bracing yourself for his reaction. 

“.... Why do certain people have to call you ‘Namor’?” You finished, closing the book, shifting to fully turning to him, indicating that you were paying special attention. The cogs clicked in place in Namor’s head as he finally understood your question. He noticed that you had said ‘certain people’ instead of enemies, likely the reason being you two weren’t exactly enemies nor friends in both of your books. 

“Uhm, you don’t have to answer if it’s too… y’know….” You quickly added, waving your hands in a dismissive manner. Namor’s eyebrows raised at you, causing your face to heat up. “I mean… alam naman natin na gago sila…” You quickly mumbled the last part. 

Namor seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, before he shook his head and chuckled. “No, I can answer if you would like me to.” 

Namor ran his fingers through the water, clearly contemplating on how he should approach your question. He smiled bitterly at you as he remembered the hateful memory. Your hands immediately went to your phone, turning the volume down on the classic OPM playlist you were playing.

“When my mother died, she asked to be buried in her homeland,” He started, playing with the wet sand underneath the water. Namor smiled, a loving look overtook his bitter expression.

“She wanted to show me the surface world and its beauty.” Her soft and caring smile flashed in his mind, it was as if he could still remember the days where she hugged him with such care. His mother was always so gentle, so sweet with him. 

The prolonged gentle expression on Namor’s face was an unfamiliar one, as it was often hardened or practically deadpanned at you. You were only used to the occasional soft glimpses in his eyes.

A small part of you wished you could see this type of his face more, but that was crossing the line in your book.

“But, when I arrived…” Namor’s expression soon darkened. “They were here.” You winced, knowing exactly who he was talking about. He grit his teeth.

“They called me… ‘El Niño sin Amor’.” 

He looked back at the sea, feeling that if he stared at you, you would see nothing more than hate and anger burn in his eyes, a look that would most likely scare you away. You don’t know if it helped, but you nodded understandingly, almost as if implying that he can feel if he wants to.

Namor could remember the look of fear and hatred in the man’s eyes, as if the Spaniards didn’t force him and his people to retreat in the ocean due to the illness inflicted upon them by the colonizers, before enslaving those who remained on land. 

“The child without love, as they boasted.” Namor spoke in a rather biting sarcastic tone. Though he was smiling, the grin on his face was one of anger, holding no genuine joy or happiness in it.

“I took Namor from that, because I have no-” His eyes locked with you for a brief second before he averted his gaze. “-love for the surface.”

Your fingers played with the cover of the book you were holding, as you frowned even more and stared at him in disbelief. 

“Luh? So bale, you were called a loveless child,” You began, a startled impression on your face, “just because you killed the colonizers after they basically enslaved and killed your people?” You asked for clarification, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. Namor nodded, a rather grim smile on his face.

“Aba, ang kakapal ng mukha nila ah…” You grumbled, before muttering something about how hypocritical and barbaric they were. Namor smiled gratefully at you, knowing you shared the same sentiment. 

He sighed, as if tired of having to relive the same memory over and over again. Namor looked back at the sea, a subtle slouch in his posture now. 

For a moment, you both sat there in silence, contemplating the lives of those who lived before (at least in your case) you. So many of Namor’s people were enslaved and forced by the Spaniards, yet they dare to call him the loveless child?

You pursed your lips, your eyes looking over Namor.

He wasn’t a child without love. His mother had loved him so, it was obvious by the way his voice would hush into a gentle baritone each time she was brought up.

His people loved him so, or at least, that’s what you can make up from his stories. You’ve only ever been able to gaze at them from afar in the sea, whenever they occasionally came to check up on him. Though with the way they addressed him you could easily see the fondness.

An idea popped into your head, though you were a bit hesitant to actually do it. 

“Hey,” You called out, scooting closer to him, the waves licking at your feet. Namor rose an eyebrow at you, though your invasion of his personal space did not deter him.

Finally, you sat in the water next to him, perhaps this was one of the very few times you were both less than three feet apart. Namor’s mouth opened, about to tell you off that your clothes were getting wet and rather quite see-through.

You snickered, a mischievous look overtaking your eyes, a look that Namor was quite familiar with. Too familiar with it, he adds to himself. 

You pointed at his face, before your pointer finger came into contact with the scrunch between his eyebrows.

Namor’s brain went blank, processing exactly what you had done to him. Before he can even make a reaction, you cut him off.

“Iniirog.” 

You started slowly, gauging for his reaction. Namor’s eyes narrowed at you, confused but not offended. Your smile soon went into a toothy grin. 

“Sinisinta.” 

Namor grabbed your wrist and pulled away from your finger, clearly puzzled. The soft, cool touch of his damp fingers sent goosebumps up your back, but you continued nevertheless.

“Kinagigiliwan.” 

You were practically giggling at this point, leaning your body towards him, as if to tease him about the words you were uttering, completely dismissing that he had not understood what you were saying.

Hesitantly, your hand went to reach for his, causing him to flinch. You took Namor’s hand between both of yours, softly tracing the palm lines on it. 

“Minamahal.”

His senses were being overloaded, the low volume of the OPM Playlist still playing in the background, though it felt as if it was echoing rather loudly in his ears.

Namor’s eyes met yours, he remembers what the word “mahal” means. But that couldn’t possibly be what you’re saying, right? Were you instead perhaps meaning another thing? (He was sure that mahal meant expensive as well, were you just messing with him and calling him expensive?)

One of your hands stopped playing with his and reached towards his face, caressing his cheek softly. You contemplated running a hand on his pointy ears. However, you decided you wanted to keep your hand intact with your body.

Namor could do nothing but stare at you, his free hand coming up to hold yours that was on his cheek, though he made no move to remove your hand. If you were to look closer, it was as if he was leaning into your touch. 

Your thumb softly grazed his upper cheek.

“Nagmamahal.”

With the way Namor talked fondly about his people, you couldn’t help but notice the love and adoration in his eyes. He truly loved his people and protected them with his whole heart. 

Even if Namor couldn’t fully understand what you were saying to him, he could still somewhat comprehend what you were trying to say.

Namor was not a child without love, he has loved and has been loved. He will continue to love and he will continue to be loved, you were sure of that.

To your and his surprise, his eyes fluttered close as he leaned into the warm touch of your hand against his damp cheek. The feeling was scorching against his cool skin, yet it brought comfort to him even so. 

A part of him wanted this moment to never end, the soft tunes of your mother tongue playing in the background, as you practically showered him with affection that you two had an unspoken agreement about.

Soon, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

The hand on his face traced his cheek softly, before it came and pinched it rather aggressively. 

Namor’s eyes snapped open as he suddenly experienced a rather painful pinch to the cheek. Your ninangs would be proud of you if they saw the red mark on his skin right now. You snickered, making kissy-faces at him.

“Bebeluvs~” He deadpanned at you, fully knowing the sound of your rather trickster voice.

“My sexy, sexy love!” You finished, laughing so much your stomach hurt. You knew that Namor probably wouldn’t get the reference, but you couldn’t help yourself from quoting none other than the queen herself, Kathryn Bernardo. 

You were still laughing, peeving Namor a bit. This caused him to pull away from your touch and some distance between the two of you. The laughter soon died in your throat, as you instantly sort of regretted the fact that you ruined the moment. Shet, maybe you should’ve maintained the wholesome moment just a bit longer.

You fully expected him to stand up and leave you there in the water again, already used to him doing it with the many, many times you’ve tried to trick him into saying rather comically funny words in your language. Namor could always figure you out, though it may be because of the way you haven’t been able to stop yourself from laughing each time.

To your surprise, he simply stayed there, a contemplative look on his face as he looked down at the water he was in. 

You cleared your throat, scooting closer to him once again. You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say next now that you have feared you may have offended him. Namor’s voice soon filled the one-sided awkward silence left in the air.

“Your words… What did they mean?”

You beamed at him, jumping at the chance to answer. “They can all actually mean different things! ‘Iniirog’ for example can mea-” A single stare from Namor shut you up from overcomplicating the answer, though it did not stop you from grumbling about the complex meanings of the words.

“Uhm, well, generally, they all kinda mean…” You whispered the last part, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed that you had even started all of this. 

Namor sighed heavily, staring at you in dismay by your sudden bashfulness that always seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Ka a'alé, speak up.” His body turned towards you more as he leaned his head down in order to listen more carefully.

You shakily let out a breath, fully preparing to face his rageful wrath yet again. 

(You were exaggerating, the most he’s ever done is splash water directly into your face. Though it did go straight to your eyes once, you never forgave him for that.)

“Uhm, what I meant to say was…” You were stalling again, nervously fiddling with your fingers on your lap, flexing them under the water. 

Namor sighed. “If you can’t say them to my face, why say them at a-”

“THEY ALL MEAN ‘BELOVED’!” 

You practically shouted at him, shocking him to his core. You swore you could feel the water suddenly shift. Oh no, what if the Talokanil have been watching you all this time and you just shouted at their king?! 

“Or… Haha… Other things as well.” 

At this point, you were just trying to fill in the rather thick silence in the air. “But uhm, they could all also mean beloved.”

Meanwhile, Namor stayed silent at your confession. Have you been whispering to him such intimate words of affection all this time?

“All those words… were you calling me ‘beloved’?” At this, you shook your head slowly, confusing him even more.

“.... Actually, the last part means something else.” You felt like you were hyperventilating at this point. Perhaps you’ve ruined your favorite OPM playlist forever, as you will always associate it with this moment.

“The… The last part means ‘loving’...” You weakly replied, not daring to meet his eyes. You feel like you’ve royally screwed up, banished from the ocean even. Goodbye, night swimming, you will be dearly missed.

You slowly looked, bracing yourself for his reaction. The scene made your jaw drop, and Namor’s face would have been priceless to you if the situation hadn’t called for it. 

The flusteredness on his face would’ve caught anyone off-guard. The way his eyebrows raised as the corner of his eyes pinched at the corners. His lips were slightly open, as if to say that he was too shocked to even close his mouth. 

Soon, however, Namor finally came to his senses. He finally realized what you had been trying to say to him all this time.

They had called him “the child without love” in their spitting, hateful language.

And you had called him such loving words in your native language, as if to imply that they were wrong.

When you scooted closer to him once more, he didn't flinch or pull away this time. You blinked at his movements, noting the way he slightly leaned onto you again.

“... Dios bo’otik.” was the only thing Namor said after a few minutes.

You’ve talked to him enough to know what that means.

You gleefully smiled at him, before clearing your throat and relaxing your posture.

“Psh, ako pa? Wala lang yun, K’uk’ulkan.”

The soft tunes of the OPM playlist from your phone continued playing in the air, and the cold feeling of the water soon came to feel like a warm embrace instead.