#namor headcanons

[magnetothemagnificent]

My proposal to Marvel Comics

[cherry-pop-elf]

You should like, totally write for Namor because he's so cool and silly!!

Like I just know he's affectionate when you're close to him, doesn't even have to be romantic (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Oh my goodness what a suprise!

Wink wink nudge nudge

Oh hell yeah he would. May or may not have drafts already but what’s some random headcanons? Hm~?

Let us see

Namor in a new relationship headcanons

Yeah when he is first told you want to take things to the next level he might have tried to stab you because he thought you were Loki pulling a real cruel trick on him. His name is Namor for a reason. He was cursed by many to ‘never be loved’ so yeah. Can you blame him? Also that maybe Reed set up some kind of plan to make him fuck off from Sue. Iykyk

Once the miscommunication is properly dealt with he’s still gonna be processing a lot. Someone loves him? Like fr? He will try and hide it but he can’t help but be anxious. That it’s all a lie somehow. But you don’t blame him a single second and will remind him a billion times a day that it’s real. It’ll never be annoying to you because you knew EXACTLY what you were signing up for after all!

Once there is time for him to adjust to the new relationship he’s uh. Oh man you thought he was a sweetheart before now? Oh man you are gonna understand why Sue Storm ever thought maybe sleeping with the fishes wasn’t such a bad idea

He’s always been a flirty guy, sure, but oh man it’s getting explosive now. Every action he does feels so full of love. From as simple as holding your hand to help you step over a curb to bringing you flowers from the deepest trenches of the sea. He’s gonna make sure every second you exist makes you aware that you are utterly adored

The type of guy to send you a good morning text and a good night text type shit if you two aren’t able to spend time physically together

The way he will be the Ariel to your Eric is just so precious. How easy it is for him to stare at you and zone out from that. Oh the amount of times you’ve caught him doing so is hard to keep track of! He does his best to not let you distract him from important meetings, but he’s still busted for side eying you

One of his favorite things is certainly just existing with you. Just to lay in a pool of water and watch you from afar. Admire you like a work of art. Even when you don’t notice him he notices you. You are so utterly loved from a single hair to your head to the way your eyes wrinkle from a smile. It’s utterly adored

Sure as hell gonna make it clear to anyone who so much as brings up their own relationship. He will brag and brag and brag. Yeah he’s projecting alot given what those colonists did, but trauma be trauma

The honeymoon phase kinda uh. Never stops. He’s going to love you just as much the moment his eyes found you to the days your hair goes grey and your joints ache. That passion in his eyes will never fade.

You are his Amor. And he’s your Namor. Forever and always

[inklore]

Dilf! Namor...so tempted to write hcs for that

well let me inspire you with this hot mess bestie 👀

pairing: dbf!namor x (f)reader warnings: eighteen+ content, unedited because it’s late and i’m lazy so beware of hella spelling mistakes, lowercase, sexual tension to the max, alcohol mention, pining, and kissing, that’s literally it but it’s more inner monologue and tension heavy than anything honestly. note: bro this was supposed to be multple hcs but turned into one long ass tension filled mess lmao, i’m sorry but dbf!namor took over, it’s just perfect for him!!

part two | feel free to send me thots on these two!

i saw a gifset where tenoch was riding a motorcycle so obviously that's dbf!namor get's around, and he's giving brooding, grumpy, man who is always scowling at you and you're not even sure if he really likes you. if he is only polite for your dads sake

but one night you go out with your friends and have a little too much to drink-and using uber right now with your vision blurry and fingers key punching so bad your messages look like a toddler did them-namor is the first person you think to call. why? you're not sure. and you almost regret it, retreat into yourself-sober up-when you hear his rough voice answer, the "hello" landing heavy in the pit of your stomach

it take you a few deep breaths and closing your eyes to steady your tipsy mind on why you even called, your name on his lips sounding stern, adjacent to being worried you think

"where are you? stay where you are." and he's there before you realize it. the loud rumble of his bike as he pulls up in front of you making your entire being vibrate with nerves. "you need better friends." he says as he hands you the helmet that was just on his head, pleasantries dead as always

"what about you?"

"just get on." it's a command, rushed, demanding, as he helps your wobbly limbs onto the bike. wordlessly pulling your wrist to have your arms wrap around his midsection. and it's probably the liquor in your system that has every bump, the vibration of the bike, the wind whipping against the tops of your thighs-or maybe it's the heady affect his cologne that engulfs the inside of the helmet-how you almost feel completely compliant and light to lay your head on his shoulder. to let your palm spread flat against his rib bone

the heavy thump of his heart matching the same speed of the thumping that leads from your chest cavity to regions it has no right to be in. and when you expect him to fix your hold on him, to shrug off your head from his shoulder, he gives you no reaction. something that both makes your nerves burn and grow cold at the same time

when he pulls into your driveway, pulling himself off of the bike first, his fingers rubbing against your chin as he undoes the clip keeping the helmet steady on your head. helping your drunken hands pull it off your head-there's a moment where his eyes catch on your outfit. like he's really taking it in now, letting his eyes drag along your exposed thigh, before that signature scowl is pulling a shadow over his eyes again

"your father home?"

"no."

"do you need help inside?"

yes. is the first thing that comes to mind. yes, please. a heat bringing itself to your cheeks when you internally shame yourself for it. lock away somewhere in your brain that tipsy you cannot be trusted to think clearly-normally. and there's a split second where you think maybe he's shaming himself for something, that the two of you are sharing the same thought, the same link to something that maybe has always been there but you've stuffed away because it was better that way-proper, normal. with the way he's just staring at you

"no." you say again. your tongue feeling heavy and dry in your mouth as you swallow and force yourself to look away from him. brace your hands on the bike to pull yourself from it but end up catching your foot and ending up where you shouldn't be: in his arms. your palms once again finding themselves pressed to his front as he wraps an arm around you to stop you from planting yourself on the harsh pavement

"let me walk you inside." he says low and gruff against your temple. your insides turning into liquid compliance as you nod without a second thought. his breath heavily fanning itself across your skin as it takes a minute, two, three, before he's pulling you from his chest and holding your wrist to help you inside

once you're inside he drops your wrist, doesn't speak, just watches as you move on wobbly legs to the stairs. the pathetic thought to trip, to plummet yourself down the steps in hopes he'll touch you again, is volleying itself back and forth between just running up the stairs and sleeping this off and waking up to whatever this tension-filled-air-and insanity going on in your head-is gone

"thank you," you send over your shoulder as your fingers have a death grip on the railing. forcing yourself to surface a smile that you know probably looks as ridiculous as it feels to your burning cheeks

namor hums, nods, keeps his eyes on every step you take up the stairs, hype focused incase you fall-you assume. "do you need me to stay?"

you know he means it politely. not in the way your body is currently taking it, he's your dads friend, besides tonight he's barely shown you a kindness besides a pressed smile. you really need to sleep. need to reset your mind back to normal because his words shouldn't stop you in your tracks. have your body internally clenching at the intensity of his stare, from the glint in them that you're definitely imagining when you watch him move closer to the bottom of the steps-because you probably look like a tripping hazard right now

"do you want to stay?" the words leave your mouth before that last sober cell in your body can stop them-stop you from making a fool out of yourself

"i want you to be safe." he replies simply. you don't know why the answer only fills you with disappointment. i'll be fine, leaving your lips as you quickly take the rest of the steps up to your room. ignore the way you feel foolish and silly as you slip into bed

a silly feeling that still lingers when you walk down stairs the next morning to see a rumpled sheet and blanket on the couch deserted, and the smell of food coming from the kitchen. a sticky note stuck to a plate covered in foil on the counter: eat. simple. to the point. but still bringing a smile to your lips and those silly feelings imbedding themselves into your marrow

turning into something burning and aching when you see him again. when he drops something off for your dad and he's nowhere to be found in sight. when the two of you are stuck in the kitchen together, a heavy silence weighing down the air that seems to suck itself from your lungs the longer the two of you just stand here. the longer he keeps looking anywhere but you as his grip tightens on the neck of the beer you offered him-mentioning your father would be home any minute now

"thank you for staying, and for the food."

a nod. curt. ever him.

"you didn't have to help me-"

"think so little of me?"

"that's-i didn't mean it like that-i-" you want to state how he's avoided you like the plague before that. how his face morphs into a scowl when you enter the same room as him. how you are certain he hates you, still think that, just maybe a little less after helping you

"you need better friends." he repeats himself from the other night. making an annoyance shift your emotions

"so does my father."

the snort he lets out from under his breath shocks you, as does the pull of the corner of his mouth in the smallest-genuine-smiles you've ever seen him give you. it makes your stomach swoop

"i'm glad you called me."

"that's hard to believe. i'm confident this is the most you've spoken to me in a span of minutes." you joke, the corner of his mouth pulling into a full grin that makes you upset you've never seen him smile before this-has he always been this handsome?

"and here i thought you were a smart girl." the words would wound you if he wasn't staring at you like that over the bottle pressed to his lips. how even when he sets it back on the counter his eyes are still boring into your very being, right to that part of your body that you're understanding now has always wanted him. that you slowly realize, after much analysis to everything that happened the other night: the look in his eyes, the grip he had on your body to make sure you were kept safe, how he didn't even second guess or ask questions when you called, just demanding to know where you were, and to wait for him-that he was coming to get you and that was that

and it’s like a domino effect because now all you can think about is the stolen glances you’ve let go unnoticed, that you’ve chalked up to some festering dislike he may have had for you. how quickly his eyes shifted away from you when your father was in the room, how you’d look over and see him already looking at you when your father was distracted-that scowling coming back, the swivel of his head away from you almost something you’d see a frustrated animal do 

maybe you weren’t as smart as either of you thought. or maybe being blind to something you both ignored was better than doing something you’d possibly regret later 

if it were that, the fear of betrayal and regret, it didn’t seem to have any place in the room as you watch him finish his beer, walk around the counter to stand in front of you. reaching past you-your chests touching for half a second, your breath getting caught in your lungs-as he sets the empty bottle beside the sink behind you. and when you expect him to move away, to bid you goodbye, you feel his finger under your chin lifting your gaze from the floor. his deep brown eyes sucking every last potential breath from your lungs, your back digging into the edge of the counter as you try to ground yourself, try to settle the burning nerves that are making it hard for your brain to function right now 

“if it was only me, all this time, tell me right now.” 

you don’t need him to elaborate, there’s no need for explanation, you read through his words, the knowledge sitting heavy in your lower belly; the fear of shaking your head and having him stop touching you stops you from moving, a barely audible “no. not just you” falling from your parted lips

lips that his thumb presses into, your bottom lip met with the pad of his thumb as he rubs along it. throat bobbing with a hard swallow, eyes flashing from your mouth to your eyes. you want to ask why now? what changed? why throw both your dignities to the wind and say fuck it? but the look of stern-protection he showed the other night each time he looked at you, like he was fighting with himself with being upset at himself and upset at you for not having better friends, for putting yourself in a potential bad situation. you know why now 

“if i keep touching you-if i let myself cross that line-i’ll never stop.”

“what if i don’t want you to stop?”

“you’ll have to beg me to.” 

“i won’t.” 

his front is completely pressed to yours, a thigh between your parted legs, forehead on yours as you see the internal battle going on in his expressions, in his heavy breaths, in how he keeps dipping his mouth down to yours only to pull it away at the last minute, “you need to.”

“i need you.”

and it’s those magic words that have him cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss of passion-every lick into your mouth, every bite at your bottom lip, the moans he swallows down from your throat, speaking silent words of how long he’s waited to have you like this.

[demigoddessqueens]

kissing headcanons

Bit different from the original outline I have/had planned, but I figured this would be just as sweet

Tagging @rosesbyophelia

Kissing Namor would be like….

You feel every fiber of his being poured into his kisses.

Hot and passionate, memorizing even the tiniest curve of your lips

It’s irresistible, tempting but all-consuming

You can feel his arms and hands wrap around you, pulling you close as if the ocean would sweep you away.

He’s told you why he’s called “Namor” yet you feel all that love pouring over you like lava. Washing away the fears and doubts from each other.

What spurs you on even more are the moans that you hear.

It’s deep, imploring and you crave to hear them even more. Your desire him and everything offered

[jeromeswife]

namor’s favorite sleeping positions

With you, Namor would change his sleeping positions depending on his mood and day. But he’d usually be the big spoon because he loves pressing his chest against your pack, preferably when your shirt is off

He loves being the big spoon because he is so damn protective of you. If anything happened to you, he would wage war on whoever he pleased to. Even end up taking on the entire world for you.

If you guys were in the cave or in a hut on the beach, he would get into the pretzel position. The feeling of your soft breaths and and lips gently touching his pecks. Oh god, that made him feel satisfied and happy. He would love to do it when it’s raining.

Namor just loves cuddling with you, especially since he was without love his whole life until he found you. You brought love and light back into his life. And he was gonna protect it no matter what.

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Ooo is anyone that writes for Namor interested in writing this request??🤔🤔 It’s a Dad!Namor request!

(platonic/dad!) Namor oneshot where Namor finds a little human/surface dweller girl (around 5-6 years old) who has nowhere to go, and takes her in as his own? Maybe she had been wandering around the beach, and found some of the fruit from Talokan, and maybe it happens to have the Vibranium herb infused in it, she eats it (not knowing that it had the Vibranium herb in it and what it can do) she transforms and suddenly can’t breathe air, running into the water purely on instinct, and she of course, can now breathe underwater. She’s shook and also terrified, but also amazed, ending up swimming around not really knowing what to do or what was happening, when Namor finds her and realizes what happened (that this little surface dweller ingested Vibranium herb and transformed, therefore only being able to breathe in water). He takes her to Talokan, and adopts her as his own? + her one day calling him “daddy” and him getting super emotional 🥺

[rokuhoku]

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

here are some ideas :DDD

[jeromeswife]

husband namor headcanons

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

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

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

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

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

He would endure your bad jokes:

"What do you call a fake koi fish?"

"Well... a fish?"

"A de koi!"

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

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

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

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

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

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