Namor X - Tumblr Posts

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

Namor x Siren! Reader Aesthetic Board

Guess who’s back~~ Back again~~ with..... anotha namor moodboard. I experimented with a slight animation. Hope y’all enjoy this one! Sending hugs, much love and kisses to you all. 

CEO! Tenoch/Namor x CEO! Reader Aesthetic Board

“You are sent by your father, the owner of the company, to represent this proposal which involves merging these two companies together. “, sitting facing him, barricaded by his sleek office desk and listening to him repeating my proposal. His intense gaze piercing through my soul. “And once the companies have been united, he will retire and you will be the successor, correct?” repeating the proposal while cocking his to the side. However, I sensed a but...

“Allow me to include my additional proposal before sealing the deal” he proceeded to rise from his chair, walked towards me as if a predator stalking its prey, turned my chair to face him. Still remained sitting, he crouched to my level, caged me with both of his palms resting upon the armrest of my chair and leaned towards me. My heartbeat quickened at the close proximity, intoxicated by his scent. A mixed of leather, oakwood and tobacco.

“What does it take to seal the deal?”, I questioned. 

“You”

“A king will need his queen by his side to help him rule his empire. I want you to be my partner, both in the office and personal life. How does that sound, amor?”, tilting my chin up, proceeded to caress my jaw with his knuckle and his warm brown orbs boring into mine.

“Marry me, be my wife and let us rule this empire together. Side by side, for I have long an equally compelling queen to reign by my side.”

🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱

Heyoooo this B is back again with another CEO!Namor moodboard, but decided to add a short fanfic this time, coz i’m feeling ✨extra✨ today. Enjoy peeps ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥🌊🔱🔥

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/.

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