Namor X Filipino!reader Fic Is Done!!!

namor x filipino!reader fic is done!!!

just wanted to let you know, when you change the font color from its default, it doesn’t automatically change with the users theme anymore so people with the dark mode on can’t read your recent fics (namor x reader) because it has black text on a black background.

- fellow filo xx

OMG!! ty for saying :0 idk how it changed the font color from the default 😭😭😭 its probs bc i pasted it from gdocs but ty for letting me know!!

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.

AAAA TYSM 😭😭😭💖💖💖💖

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.

FILO READER RISE UPPPPP THANK U FOR UR CERVIX I MEAN CERVIX I MEAN SERVICE

I- 😀⁉️⁉️⁉️

TY FOR READING BUT BESTIE WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR

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.