#miamorsworld!

[murdrdocs]

namor is a cuddle fucker and you can’t convince me otherwise. 16+

EDIT: ignore the fact that i call him ‘amor’ in this, i have now realized the flaws in such a nickname. however, i am still too lazy to go back and change it so.

when the warmth of the sun is steadily disappearing and the chill of the night makes itself known, he’s holding you close to his chest.

the ocean’s waves are inching closer to the two of you, attempting to call namor home, but he ignores them for just a little longer.

they’ve yet to reach dangerous territory. yet to pull you both away from your comfort. and until then, namor won’t pull away from you.

his lips are kissing at your shoulder and his hand is rubbing at the fabric covering your hips and waist and stomach. your legs are slotted together, and his chest is against your back so that you can feel the steady thrum of his heart shielded by his rib cage. even so, you feel it as if it’s guarded by nothing.

because that’s what namor’s like with you. letting down all of his inhibitions, allowing himself to be free from his past and present. just so he could be with you. so he can let that feeling deep inside of him come to the surface.

amor.

it’s what you call him as his lips sneak up the side of your neck.

long ago, when you were both getting to know each other, the name sounded almost foreign on your tongue. you hesitated when you spoke it, even though you meant it, and the hesitation made the syllables sound uncomfortable coming from your mouth.

but now you say his name with the same comfort of prayers and wishes and hopes.

now, in this mundane and comforting moment, his name sounds warning from your mouth.

he hears it, yet he hums as if he doesn’t.

although you’d called him as if you were going to continue speaking, you don’t. at least, not right away.

you sigh, and your eyelids close, and you push your hips further back against his. then, when his lips have made their way behind your earlobe, you speak up.

“again?” you ask, referring to the many times you’d been in a position similar to this one today alone.

“if you’re able to,” he murmurs into your skin. “if you’ll have me.”

he bares his teeth and your sigh is more of a whine when the bones nip down onto your earlobe.

“will you have me?” your name ends the request, and you’re sure that the way that he says it hypnotizes you and makes you agree. but that’s just you refusing to own up and acknowledge the way namor could always rile you up.

you’re not sure if you’ll be much help this time, and he senses this.

“i’ll do the work. let me make you feel good.” and you don’t have to be told twice.

your soft “okay” is lost in the wind and carried to the sea.

namor doesn’t waste any time.

you’re both aware of the salty water creeping closer and closer to your feet with each wave, an alarm clock inching towards it’s designated time, a time where you’ll both be pulled from this dream-like state and brought back to the reality of your responsibilities.

you try not to think about that as namor pushes your flimsy dress up to rest on your hip.

there’s a moment where his hands aren’t on you, and it lasts longer than you would’ve preferred. when his hands find your skin again, you involuntarily jump and his teasing chuckle makes your neck burn.

“it’s just me, my love. i’m right here.”

the head of his dick tickles you as namor urges your thigh forward. you’re bare, and still wet from the times before, so it’s embarrassingly easy for him to slide right in.

his rocks start slow as if he wishes to treasure the limited time you both have left with each other for a few weeks. but then he speeds up almost all at once. his warm, soft palm slides under the dress and rests under your breasts. his hold is firm, yet he’s also pulling you back, holding you tight against him so you’re able to hear the groans coming from his lips.

“still feel so good, my love. holding me just right. you were made for me, weren’t you?” you’re nodding, frantically, the movement hurting a bit with the stiff ferocity of it. he laughs again, and it’s equal amounts condescending and adoring, if possible.

“i waited all those years for someone to call ‘mine’ and it was so, so worth it, baby.” you’re swearing under your breath at this point. your legs are spreading, too. your thigh is lifting and your back is arching as you try to get him even deeper. it’s not working and you’re whining frustratedly. namor shushes you gently.

“it’s okay. i’ve got you. let me take care of you.” he does, of course. his free hand grips your hip forcefully, and he uses it to pull your cunt down onto his cock with each thrust.

you shouldn’t be so close already, but you are. and you’re upset about it. because cumming means that namor has to leave you. you’re trying to hold off, biting down onto your lip and tensing your muscles. and like he does with everything else, namor notices.

“don’t hold off, sweetheart. it’s okay. this isn’t the end, you know that. i’ll be back. i always come back.” and he does. he never leaves you alone and empty and cold for too long. there’s no reason for you to hold off or worry.

you let go.

your moans are covered by the other sounds around you but it wouldn’t matter anyway. you’re secluded, and no one could hear it. no one except your lover.

he’s reaching his own high, thrusts turning sloppy and his groans powerful and assertive in your ears.

your hand reaches down to rest over top his and you turn your head to get as close of a look at him as you can. his eyes are pinched shut, his skin is glowing in the moonlight, his curls are formed and frame his face perfectly.

without much thought to it, you push your lips to his. he reciprocates your kiss easily, a mess of teeth and tongue and spit swapping with your mirrored desperation.

“where do you want it?” he asks against your lips.

“inside, mi amor. please.” there’s no reason to beg because namor’s answering your request in just a few moments.

his forehead presses to yours and his hips stutter once more and then he’s shooting warm seed into your walls. you twitch with the newly added warmth, and your eyes flutter shut contently.

namor’s lips pepper kisses along your face as you come down and it takes him a while to slip out of you. even when he does, he doesn’t separate from you. you want to tell him that he needs to go. that he should return to his kingdom.

but for now, you let your body relax, and your eyes stay shut, and you remain in the moment.

#written at 5 am #so if it doesn’t make sense #whatever #namor x reader #i think his tag should be #miamorsworld! #instead of namor #:( #namor smut #kukulkan #namor x you

[murdrdocs]

saw this tweet that explained because namor breathes through his skin he could probably eat pussy for hours

MMMHMMMM

and it’s something that he does for his own pleasure as much as yours.

because he absolutely gets off to the sound of your broken moans, the shake of your thighs under his large hands, the drip of your cunt coating your thighs and his chin.

every other time he’s between your legs, he’s declaring that you were going to beat your record that day. he would work you up to it, a few orgasms that he draws out until he’s pulling them from you almost back to back.

you’ve gone limp a few times. your eyes have fluttered shut and your body relaxed. it’s then that he fears he’s pushed you too far, but your back arches and your hips push towards him as soon as he loved just an inch away from you and he knows that despite your barely-there state, you’re still enjoying this.

#i couldn’t let this sit in my asks for too long #sorry it’s short </3 #namor x reader #miamorsworld! #namor x you #namor smut