Can someone write a smut Patrick Wilson fanfic where he sees Y/n masturbating and decides to help her. Since his hand is bigger and he can do much better! 🫣
With height difference, age difference, kissing, hickeys, slapping, pussy slapping, fingering, M+F masturbation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, M+F oral sex, deep throat, face fucking, hard sex, hair pulling, cum swallowing, degradation, praise, choking, whatever you want and much more! Pleaseee 🙏🙏❤️❤️🥰🥰😍😍🛐🛐✨✨
a/n: so it's been a while...*laughs nervously* but here's an update that some people no people asked for! i haven't glossed over this bit yet, so there may be typos, but i'll probably have the full part done by the weekend!
summary: A month has passed since you and Orm made peace, and things have been… comfortable - soft touches, quiet laughter - the pull between you is undeniable. Orm enjoys your company, but he’s been blind to the depth of what he feels. That is, until someone else starts showing interest in you. That’s when he realizes just how possessive he’s become… and how much he hates sharing you.
warnings: light cursing, touch starved!orm, jealous!orm, light angst if you squint, comic lore inaccuracies, slow burn, divorced parents!reader, dead parents!reader, mentions of being smaller in comparison to orm, first kiss...;)
Things had been good - really good. Now that the touch barrier between you and Orm was crossed, you felt less on edge every day. Every brush of a shoulder or a hand on the back felt more comfortable with each pass and you found yourself grateful that Orm had brought it up. Even now, as you read side-by-side, you don’t shy away from the warmth of the side of his thigh that presses against yours.
“You gonna keep breathing down my neck, scales? I told you we could read this together-”
“I have no interest in reading that filth. You’re hallucinating, little one.”
The pet names were new too. A welcome addition that never failed to make your heart race.
“Stop reading over my shoulder then- agh-”
You grumble in faux annoyance when his hand pinches at the vulnerable softness of your side. You attempt to pinch back, but the attack proves to be futile considering the durability of Atlantean skin, meaning not an ounce of ticklishness lived in the prince’s body.
“You know not to test me, human-”
“You know not to use that name with me, blondie-”
Orm lets out a bemused chuckle, his elbow pressing against yours as he adjusts his seating on the couch. He presses closer to you, though you don’t mind, letting your shoulder rest against him.
“My apologies, little one. Sometimes I forget about your…delicate sensibilities.”
“Not delicate, I just won’t take any shit from you, fish boy.”
Your words hold no real malice, a smile playing on your lips as you attempt to get back to what you’re reading.
Orm found himself relishing in moments like this with you - the easy and comfortable silence that falls over you both. A comfort that he was not able to give himself when he was thought to be rightful heir to the throne of Atlantis. He was, more often than not, forced to live amidst the chaos that came with being a royal - the bustling lifestyle that he had grown accustomed to. Although he was clearly leadership oriented and was a capable prince, he had never stopped to ask himself if he played his role because he truly enjoyed it, or simply because of duty - duty to the ghost of his father’s wrath and to the mother he had once thought dead.
It was moments like this, with you, that made him try to think on where exactly he used to source his joy from.
“Hm, that you don’t.”
More comfortable silence passes over you two as you co-read, nothing but the chirping birds and bristling leaves to add soundtrack to the scene. However, the way you fidget against the cushion and the fact that you have been looking at the same page for an extended amount of minutes puts Orm on alert.
“You are thinking very loudly.”
“M’fine, scales.”
Orm closes his book at your stubbornness, turning his body fully so that he faces you as you pretend to be engrossed in your story.
“Out with it.”
You withhold your groan at Orm’s attentiveness, closing your own book before looking at the Atlantean who waits for you to speak.
“Tom is having a barbeque this weekend - it’s kind of an annual thing. I know he’s still a sore subject, but would you maybe wanna come-”
“I don’t think that’s wise, little one.”
You wince at his quick response, though you already expected the rejection.
“C’mon, Orm, the Sampsons will be there! So, you’ll know someone aside from me-”
Orm’s heavy hand lands on your thigh, quelling any of your suggestions as he squeezes above your knee.
“I do appreciate your Herculean efforts to help me assimilate into society, but it is not a good idea to put me in the same room as that man-”
You whack Orm in the shoulder for his poor choice of words.
“That man has a name, and he is one of the few good ones that I know. If you don’t wanna come with me, fine, but I suggest you ease up on how you talk about him.”
You scooch an inch or so away from Orm as you turn back to your book, the small distance feeling like a great canyon to the Atlantean.
Orm sighs to himself upon realizing the offense he’s laid towards your close friend’s father, moving closer on the couch to gain your attention. It had become clear to him that Tom had become a solid pillar in your life over the course of you relocating back to Amnesty Bay. While Orm still felt a sting in his heart at the mention of him, he knew just how important he was to you.
“Little one?
Your gaze stays trained on the pages of your book, knees kicked up to your chest.
“Do not ignore me, you know that does not end well.”
Your nose practically turns up at Orm’s gentle warning, making no move to acknowledge the Atlantean.
“I understand that Arthur’s father is important to you, truly, but please see that I only wish to not make the festivities…uncomfortable.”
Orm’s hand comes up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, a gesture that had become familiar in this “friendship” you two had built. The book in your hand folds slightly, telling Orm that your eyes were slowly averting from the pages.
“He…he serves as a reminder of why my mother was banished - him and Arthur. While I am coming to terms with what they mean to her, I cannot put on a smile for them just yet.”
You let out a soft sigh at his words, your downturned eyes landing on him. You discard your book on the coffee table, taking one of Orm’s large hands into your own.
“I know that, honey, and I don’t want you to force yourself either, but Tom’s a really good guy. Maybe, if we keep you separated for a bit - y’know, put you guys in separate rooms so you don’t have to say hi-”
“That will be quite enough.”
The sharpness in his tone nearly makes you reel back. You knew where he was coming from and you thought he had every right to be apprehensive, but a part of you felt pulled in different directions now that you and Orm were keeping up a better relationship. You hadn’t visited the Curry house in weeks, and while you didn’t blame Orm, you couldn’t help but feel like a part of you was missing when separated from them.
Still, the last thing you wanted was to make Orm uncomfortable in his temporary home.
“Right. Sorry. I…won’t push again.”
You return your gaze to your book, trying to stamp down the subtle ache in your chest at his response.
A pang of guilt hits the blonde when you suddenly go quiet, the lack of your chirpiness a sore reminder of the effects of his temper.
“Little one, I am sorry for the harshness of my words, but you must understand the position I would be put in if I did go.”
You can barely keep up your silence for more than half a minute, immediately turning to look at Orm with soft, saddened eyes and a heavy heart.
“I know. Yeah, I know, Orm. You're right, m’sorry for bringing it up. I just can’t help but be a bit…hopeful? I mean, we’ve been getting on so well and I just thought that if you could tolerate me then maybe…” Your words trail off. “...but that’s not fair of me to suggest. M’sorry-”
Orm cuts your apology off short with a hand coming up to your face, his thumb softly tracing the swell of your cheekbone.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re sweet. That’s good.”
You roll your eyes at the subtle praise in hopes that the gesture will mask how warm his proximity makes you.
“Oh? Is it not weak of me to be? Too human?” You retort sarcastically.
Orm chortles at that, his thumb maintaining a leisure pace running along your cheek.
“No. It’s refreshing…and warm…and…”
You and Orm had more of these moments too - moments where you would just look at each other in silence. There’s no undertone of fear or creepiness in them - just peace.
“And…?”
“And-” Orm suddenly rises from the couch with a cough, his book tucked under his arm as he straightens up his posture. “-and I’m going to the porch for some air.”
The moment ends just as it begins as the Atlantean hurries off to the side porch, the door rattling slightly due to the quickness in which Orm closed it.
You huff to yourself in disbelief, unsure of how such a quiet moment could be cut so abruptly. With a shrug, you lay yourself over your couch, hoping to drown out your anxious thoughts within the pages of the book, completely unaware of how heavy the Atlantean is breathing on the porch just outside.
Warnings: Smut, just smut, P in V, unprotected sex, swearing, MDNI
Summary: You and Orm are soon getting married with each other. The love you two have growing each day, your days spend with lovemaking.
Author Note: I just had to write about him. I am sure he is a sweetheart once you won his heart over! Hope you enjoy it! Love you guys! Have a happy weekend! (^_^)
Word count: 3652
His eyes glaze over with lust as he looks at your wet pussy. Your legs are spread wide for him so that he is able to see all of you. The bed beneath the two of you is dishevelled and your hands grip the sheets beneath you tightly.
He pumps his cock while his blue eyes devour you. "Touch yourself", he demands. His fingers play with his tip, a groan falling from his lips. You stop grappling the sheets and your hands travel down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your fingers plunging into your wet, warm hole. With hooded eyes, you watch him, his muscled chest. The sweat that is glistening on his chest, running down between his muscles.
His pupils are blown wide and his mouth is open. He licks his lips as he starts to squeeze his cock harder, causing a moan to leave the depths of his throat. "Fuck! Y/N I need you!“, he moans. He presses his mushroom tip hard with his thumb as he watches your fingers disappear inside your pussy again and again. You are wet, but not enough.
„Orm“, you moan his name. Your breathing heavy, your heart racing in your chest. You can hear it in your ears. „Move...your hands away“, he groans. You do as he wants. A displeased moan leaves your lips as you pull your fingers out of your aching hole.
His hands grip the flesh of your thighs tightly. His face dives between your legs. The next thing you feel is his warm breath against your flesh, and then him sucking you. Your hands fly to his head and you pull his hair. "Fuck! Orm!“, you moan. Your head is thrown back while he devours you. His nails dig into your flesh.
He loves the way you taste. It's the best thing he has ever tasted in his entire life. He wishes the taste would never leave his tongue. His eyes look up at you while he continues sucking you. Your eyes are closed, your breathing is heavy. You look so sexy, and it nearly makes him cum.
Your legs start to tremble and the knot inside your belly gets unbearable. "Or-m i am cum-" You can't even finish your sentence as your orgasm erupts and shoots through you. Your eyes fall shut. Orm licks up every drop of your juice, moaning happily. Your taste and smell filling his nostrils, driving him wild.
„Y/N...I love you“, he moans. He moves his body upwards and kisses you. Kisses your throat, his tongue licking it. He bites you softly. His mushroom tip pushing inside of you. Both of you moan as he thrusts deep inside of you. His cock is now fully nested inside of you.
Your walls clench around his cock deliciously, milking it for his swimmers. His hips start to move, driving the both of you insane. His lips are all over your face. He seals your lips together, whispering sweet nothings against them. His cock touches the right places inside your wet walls.
His thrusts get faster, deeper. Making you see stars. Your pussy sucks his cock in greedily. "God, you are so fucking hot. I can't get enough of you. No matter how many times we fuck, I want more“, he groans. His thrusts getting deeper inside of you. He grabs your legs and presses them towards your chest, causing him to reach deeper than before.
Your head is spinning with lust. You are drunk with lust, and you moan his name. The bed creaks beneath you. He leans down, kissing you. His cock twitches inside of you. "Y/N", he moans. His muscles tighten, and he stills deep inside of you. Spilling his semen inside you. Marking you with him. Out of breath, you stay like this for a while. A smile on his face. "Maybe...we will have a little one...disturbing our peace soon", he chuckles. His hand places on your belly.
His eyes full of love. He pulls out of you and hugs you tightly. Showering you with love.
Imagine being a sorceress and Arthur Curry and Orm Marius disturbing your vacation thinking you were up to no good.
You lowered your sunglasses from your eyes as the two men stumbled out from the water, seemingly out of nowhere. No one else seemed to notice that they hadn’t been here a moment ago, too distracted from the good looks of the two men. You couldn’t blame them, yourself. This kind of setting was exactly the type you had seen in your dreams - hot sun, golden sand, and two gorgeous men here just for you.
“Well hello,” You purred, looking between them. “What did I do this time?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Orm said, straightening himself up. You smirked, and beckoned them over with your finger, then patted the beach chair next to yours.
“I may be guilty of a bit of flirting with the cabana boys and having too many pina coladas, but I thought that was reasonable, considering. Though now that you’re here, some mischief can begin.”
Arthur and Orm looked at one another, and then over at you. Arthur’s thick eyebrow was raised in confusion.
“You’re not controlling the people in the island to service you?” He asked. You let out a laugh at that.
“No, of course not. This is a resort, darlings. They’re paid well for their services.”
“Where’d you get the money?” Orm finally asked, and that’s when you put on your innocent face, pulling one of Bruce’s credit cards out of your purse. Arthur let out a laugh, and took the seat next to you.
“In that case, I”ll have one of those fruity drinks,” He ordered, putting up a finger to one of the server-boys. Orm looked more on the edge, but he eventually took the seat next to you, attempting to relax.
Now the vacation just got more interesting.
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
Being in a relationship with Orm is interesting, to say the least—he’s loving, kind, and undoubtedly overwhelmed by human customs.
To help him adapt, you often cook together, showing him human traditions through the joy of making delicious food, something you have both grown fond of.
Typically, his lack of kitchen knowledge and skills isn’t a big issue, but you soon discover that some food items need more explanation than you initially anticipated.
OR:
You laugh about Orm’s horrible kitchen skills, and he shows you with what he *is* skilled.
A/N: I don't know what it is about Orm that just doesn't let me go... I had to write another story about him (I know exactly what it is - it's Patrick Wilson)
This is set after my Ocean Eyes story—you don't need to have read it, though. The only thing you need to know is that Orm and Reader-Chan are in a happy relationship, and Orm—well, he isn't that good with surface dweller stuff, but he tries.
You know that Orm doesn't understand much about humans and their customs—you'd been living with the man for quite some time, and his antics are nothing new.
Though he tries and makes an effort for your sake, sometimes he even does it so well that you forget he is the former king of Atlantis. But other times, it is all too obvious that he is still a stranger to this world.
"Why must everything be cut into such small pieces, honey?" Orm asks, his tone filled with genuine curiosity as he concentrates on cutting vegetables. The two of you are cooking together, an activity that has become a cherished routine of your everyday life. It is in these quiet moments that Orm's sincere attempts to integrate into your world were most apparent. And not only did his efforts shine, but so did the love between you.
You look at him, a fond smile playing on your lips.
His brows are furrowed in deep concentration, and his unruly blond hair nearly reaches his nose now. His piercing blue eyes are focused on the small kitchen knife and the bell pepper he is meticulously slicing. The knife seems almost comically small in his large hands, and he grips it with such strength that you are surprised it hasn't broken yet.
It is somewhat amusing, considering how skilled he is with his trident compared to the struggle he faces just holding the knife properly.
"Because we're going to fry it, sweetheart," you explain gently, appreciating his efforts to learn. "Cutting the vegetables into smaller pieces helps them cook more evenly and quickly."
Orm nods slowly, processing the information. He glances at you, his expression a mix of determination and puzzlement. "Fry… that means to cook them in hot oil, right?"
"Exactly," you confirm, guiding him through the process. "It gives them a nice texture and flavour."
As he resumes cutting the bell pepper, pleased with your answer, you can't help but admire his dedication.
Orm, the fierce warrior who once ruled an underwater kingdom, now stands in your modest kitchen, struggling with the simple act of slicing vegetables. It is a testament to how much he cares about adapting to your world - about making a life with you.
You watch as he continues his task, his concentration unwavering.
Despite the awkwardness, there is just something endearing about his efforts. The way he holds the knife, the careful precision with which he makes each cut, and the slight furrow in his brow all speak of a man determined to master even the most mundane aspects of human life for the sake of the one he loves.
"You're doing great," you encourage, stepping closer to him. "Just a little more practice and you'll be a pro."
Orm glances up at you, and a small, sweet, appreciative smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
At that moment, you are once again mesmerised by how much you love him. The depth of your feelings seems to swell within you as if you are seeing him for the first time all over again. The love you feel for him is a constant, ever-growing force that never ceases to amaze you.
"Thank you," he says softly. "For being patient with me."
You reach out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes. "We're in this together, Orm. Every step of the way."
He smiles brightly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling like the smoothest water in sunlight before he returns his focus to slicing the last few pieces of bell pepper.
When he is done with the paprika, Orm hands you the bowl, his eyes meeting yours with a look of accomplishment. You take it from him with a grateful smile.
"Thanks," you say, putting the bowl away so you can use it for cooking later. "Can you cut the onions, love?" you ask, gesturing towards the small pile of onions on the counter.
His puzzled expression tells you he isn't sure which vegetable you mean, so you point at them and specify. "You have to peel them—the brown skin has to go. Then, dice the white part in small pieces."
Orm nods and grabs an onion, examining it closely before starting to peel. You watch as he works, his large hands moving slowly and carefully. It is kind of cute - the way he approaches this simple task with such determination.
He peels away the first layer, the dry, flaky skin falling away to reveal the smooth white beneath. As he begins to slice, his concentration deepens, his brows furrowing just as they had with the bell pepper.
After a few cuts, however, you hear him mutter a curse under his breath. Glancing over, you see him blinking rapidly, his eyes beginning to water.
Orm wipes his arm over his eyes, confusion etched on his face. "Why do my eyes hurt?" he asks, blinking more frequently now. Before you can warn him, he uses the same hand he had just cut the onion with to rub his eyes.
"Orm, no—" you start, but it is too late.
His eyes widen in pain, and he quickly withdraws his hand, the irritation clearly intensifying. Tears stream down his cheeks, not from emotion but from the sharp sting of the onions.
"Why… why am I crying?" he asks, bewildered, as he tries to blink away the tears. He brings his hand up again, clearly frustrated, and you quickly grab his arm to stop him.
"Sweetheart, you're making it worse," you say, unable to help the laugh that bubbles up. "Let me help you."
You grab a piece of tissue paper and go to the sink to dampen it. Then you dab it over his eyes, gently cleaning his hands as well.
He grumbles, clearly in a bad mood from the sting and the tears, and you can't help but laugh again. "The mighty Orm, taken down by a humble onion," you tease lightly.
Orm's expression darkens slightly, a mix of frustration and embarrassment, his brows knitting together in a grumpy frown. "This is ridiculous," he mutters, his pride clearly stung, but your laughter only intensifies.
Acting a bit condescending, you pat his cheek. "It's okay, sweetie. Onions can be tricky. Maybe next time I'll handle them - we'll find another battle for the fine Atlantean warrior."
His eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something deeper. Before you can react, he roughly presses you against the counter, his grip firm but not painful.
Orm's lips crash down on yours in a heated, possessive kiss. You gasp in surprise but quickly melt into the kiss, your hands coming up to rest on his broad chest.
When he finally pulls back a bit, his breathing is heavy, his eyes dark with unresolved tension. "Don't mock me," he says, his voice low and husky.
You look up at him, breathless and a little dazed from the unexpected kiss. "I wasn't—" you begin, but the words catch in your throat.
"You think this is funny?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low growl as he interrupts you. "I may not be skilled in the kitchen, but I'm skilled in getting you off."
Before you can respond or comprehend what he said, he kisses you again roughly, his hands roaming your body with a fervour that makes your heart race. You bury your hands in his blond hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens.
It is intense and devouring.
You feel his tongue against yours, the insistent pressure of his lips sending shivers down your spine. Orm's kiss is demanding, almost punishing, and you meet it with equal passion, losing yourself in the moment. The sensation of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body, is intoxicating. You cling to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, feeling the world blur around you.
His tongue teases and explores, sending waves of heat coursing through your body. You moan into his mouth, the sound muffled by his relentless assault. He growls in response, the vibration travelling through you and making you tremble.
Orm's hands slide down your back, gripping your waist with a possessive strength that leaves you breathless. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you against him, the hardness of his body pressing into your softness. His tongue explores your mouth with an urgency that makes your knees weak, and you moan into the kiss again, your body responding eagerly to his touch as you clench your thighs, feeling yourself growing wet.
When Orm finally pulls back, his eyes are smouldering with renewed intensity. He doesn't move away from you; instead, he tightens his grip on your waist again, pressing you firmly against the counter. The heat of his body radiates through your clothes, and you can feel the raw power in his muscles as he holds you there, trapped between the cool surface of the counter and him.
"You drive me crazy," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roam over your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive hunger. "You laugh at me, but you have no idea what you do to me."
You shiver at his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "Orm…" you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.
He silences you with another kiss, rough and demanding. His tongue explores your mouth with an urgency that causes your eyes to flutter closed as you respond eagerly, your hands clutching at his hair, his shoulders, anything to ground yourself in the whirlwind of sensation.
Orm's hands move with a new purpose, sliding under your shirt to caress the bare skin beneath. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explores every inch of you. His fingers trace patterns over your back and sides, each touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
He tugs at your shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it aside, exposing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of you, his hands roaming over your now exposed breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples.
The sensation is almost too much, and you arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as you respond in kind, moving your hands from his hair over his broad shoulders and biceps, feeling the strong muscles beneath his clothes.
He lifts you onto the counter with ease, his powerful hands gripping your waist firmly as he keeps his lips connected to yours.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to look at you for a second before his mouth descends on your neck.
He kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. His touch is both tender and demanding, a combination that leaves you aching for more. His breath is hot and tantalising, making you let out a breathy moan as your hands come up to touch his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin.
"You drive me wild," he murmurs against your neck, his voice a husky growl.
His hands move to your breasts, teasing them with a touch that sends shivers down your spine.
His fingers expertly trace circles around your nipples, each caress making them harden under his touch. You gasp, arching into him, your body responding eagerly to his ministrations, and you feel your pussy growing wet as arousal pulses through your veins. He growls appreciatively, his mouth moving lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your chest.
"Orm," you breathe, your voice a mixture of frustration and need.
He smiles against your skin, his lips trailing down to your chest. "You think it's funny to laugh at me, don't you?" he murmurs, his mouth closing over one nipple. He sucks gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, drawing a moan from your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.
A whimper escapes you as he switches tactics, using his teeth to graze over your flesh with a delicious roughness, sending sparks of electricity coursing through your veins and making your clit throb. But then, just as quickly, he soothes the ache with a soothing stroke of his tongue, leaving you trembling with desire.
Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the blond strands as you pull him closer, unable to contain the overwhelming need for him. "I'm sorry," you manage to gasp between ragged breaths, though your words are lost in the haze of pleasure.
"I'm not," he growls, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and desire. "You drive me mad."
He switches to the other breast, his mouth and hands working together to drive you wild as he sucks and nibbles on your sensitive nipple and kneads your tit with his hand. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation that makes you tremble. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your need for him growing with each passing second, slick against your underwear.
"You're mine," he whispers, his voice filled with a possessive intensity that makes your heart race. "All mine."
With that, he captures your lips in another searing kiss, his hands moving down to your waist, leaving your breasts aching as the cool air hits your wet, hard nipples. It's deep and consuming, a mix of hunger and tenderness that leaves you breathless and makes you moan into his mouth again.
You cling to him, your fingers tangling in his blond hair, pulling at the thick strands to drag him even closer as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours.
Orm's fingers trail over your thighs, his touch light and teasing, driving you wild with anticipation. He spreads your legs wider, his eyes dark and predatory and a smirk on his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
"Orm, please," you whisper, your voice a desperate plea.
He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Patience," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, sending waves of pleasure through you. "I want to savour this."
His hands roam over your thighs again, caressing and teasing, driving you to the brink of madness as his long fingers draw intricate patterns through the fabric of your clothes. Each touch is electric, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His fingers dance closer and closer to your cunt, but he never quite touches you where you need him most.
You can't help but whimper, the sound a mix of frustration and desire.
There's a part of you that wishes you hadn't teased him so mercilessly about his lack of knowledge of cutting onions and kitchen skills in general. You know he's going to drag this out, making you suffer and beg instead of just giving you what you want.
Orm spreads your legs further, positioning himself between them. His large, calloused hands cup your face tenderly, guiding your gaze to meet his. You lift your hand to touch his stubbly cheek, running your thumb over it, and gaze into his blue eyes that are now dark and reflecting desire.
He closes his eyes, his impossibly long lashes resting against his cheeks as he lets out a sigh. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The sweet gesture makes your heart flutter in your chest, your love for him threatening to spill out.
"I love you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten with emotion.
"I love you too," you whisper back, your voice trembling with the weight of your feelings.
Orm's hands move from your face, trailing down your neck, over your shoulders, and coming to rest on your breasts again. He squeezes them gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, sending shivers down your spine.
He kisses you again, deeply and passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own. Every stroke of his tongue, every brush of his lips, is filled with an intense desire that makes your head spin. It's intoxicating, making you dizzy with want.
You feel his hard cock straining against his pants as he presses himself against you, making you whine with need. The pressure against your cunt is maddening, and you're sure you're wet enough to leave a spot on his pants, were you naked.
Orm's hands move with a deliberate slowness, heightening your anticipation.
He chuckles softly at your response, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through your body. Pulling back just enough to gaze into your eyes, his hands begin their journey lower, gliding over your stomach until they reach the waistband of your pants.
He pulls them down slowly and with agonising patience, taking his time, his eyes never leaving yours. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, your body aching for his touch. Every inch of skin he reveals feels hypersensitive, exposed to the cool air and the heat of his stare.
Orm's smirk deepens as he slides your pants down, leaving you in just your underwear. His fingers continue their torturous teasing over the fabric, pressing and rubbing in just the right way to drive you wild. Your hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction, more contact, more anything , but he holds you steady, keeping control as you soak your panties even more.
"Do you like this?" he asks, his voice a low growl. "Do you like being teased ?"
You shake your head, unable to form words, your body writhing with need.
He finally slips his fingers beneath the fabric, touching your cunt directly, and the sensation is almost too much. You cry out, your back arching as his thumb finds your clit with practised ease and drags the rough pad over it in circles, finding a slow and perfect rhythm.
"You're perfect," he whispers, his voice filled with awe and adoration as he slows his movements even more before halting completely and pulling his hand from under your panties, making you whimper in protest.
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, but before you can say anything and protest properly, his hands are on you again, his fingers trailing over your thighs, spreading your legs wider. He leans in, his mouth hovering just above your skin, his breath hot and teasing.
He starts to kiss his way up your inner thigh, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through you, and you slump back onto the counter, keeping yourself upright by your arms.
His lips are soft and warm, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste your skin. The sensation is exquisite, making you squirm with need.
"Orm, please," you beg, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I need you."
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of mischief. "Patience," he murmurs, his voice a deep, velvety growl. "I want to savour this."
He continues his slow, torturous journey up your thigh, his mouth finally reaching the apex. He pauses there, taking a moment to breathe in your scent, his hot breath ghosting over your panties and sending shivers down your spine.
Then he begins to kiss you through the thin fabric of your underwear, his tongue flicking over the damp cloth, tasting you in the most maddeningly indirect way possible. When his tongue finally presses against your neglected, throbbing clit, even through the fabric, you gasp loudly, your back arching off the counter.
His groan of appreciation reverberates through your pussy, sending vibrations that intensify the pleasure to dizzying heights. You can feel the heat of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue seeping through your panties, creating a delicious friction that has you moaning his name.
Desperate for more, you grip his hair tightly, your fingers tangling in the blond strands as you try to pull him closer and prevent him from stopping. But Orm maintains his torturous pace, teasing you mercilessly.
"Please," you plead, your voice breaking with desperation. "I need more."
He grins against you, the vibration of his laughter sending shivers through your body. "As you wish," he says, his voice low and husky.
Orm pulls back slightly, prompting a whine of protest from you as you tighten your grip on his hair, too caught up in the haze of arousal to grasp why he wants to pull back.
"Honey, you need to let me move a bit to take off your underwear," he says, his tone affectionate yet teasing.
Blushing furiously, you release your tight hold on his hair, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and desire flood through you. His gaze meets yours, his eyes dark with need and amusement.
"My needy girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire.
Before you can respond, he leans in quickly, capturing your lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, his tongue exploring every inch with a fervour that leaves you breathless. The taste of him is intoxicating, filling your senses and leaving you craving more.
When he pulls back and settles between your legs again, you're dazed - by the pleasure he's providing and his closeness. It is as if you can never get enough of him.
With a deft movement, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly slides them down your legs. He pauses for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze is intense, filled with a mix of love and desire that makes your heart race.
Orm leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another, moving closer to your now bare cunt. He looks up at you, his eyes locking with yours, as he leans in, his breath hot against your most sensitive area.
His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place. "I'm going to give you something to laugh about," he murmurs, and then his mouth is on you.
This time, there is no barrier between you.
The first touch of his tongue is like a shock of electricity, making you gasp and clutch at the edge of the counter, your fingers curling around the edge as you brace yourself for the onslaught of sensation.
He licks a long, slow path up your slit, savouring your taste with a low, appreciative groan. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking and teasing with a skill that has you moaning. He alternates between gentle licks and firm strokes, driving you to the brink of madness.
Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the blond strands as you pull him closer and try to ground yourself. He hums against you, the vibration sending shivers of pleasure through your entire body.
His mouth works in perfect harmony with his hands, his fingers parting your slick cunt to give him better access to your most sensitive spots.
He plunges his tongue inside you, tasting and exploring your pussy with a fervour that makes you moan loudly. He moves with a rhythm that is both precise and unpredictable, keeping you on edge, never knowing what to expect next. Each movement, each flick of his tongue, brings you closer and closer.
Just as you feel the orgasm building, he pulls back, denying you the release you crave. The sensation is exquisite torture, leaving you gasping and trembling with need. He watches you, his blue eyes dark and intense, enjoying the sight of you teetering on the edge.
"Orm, please," you beg, your voice a desperate plea. "I need to cum."
He lifts his head just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your arousal and his blue eyes dark. "Not yet," he says, his voice a low growl. "I want to hear you beg some more."
With that, he slips two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear. You writhe against him, your body on fire with need. Every nerve ending is alive, screaming for release.
But he isn't done.
His free hand trails down, his finger thick and calloused, pressing gently against the tight ring of your ass, the sensation foreign and electrifying.
You tense instinctively, unsure of what to expect, but the gentle pressure of his touch is surprisingly comforting as he explores your puckered hole for the first time.
He circles the entrance slowly, teasingly, his movements deliberate and controlled. Each touch sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, the unfamiliar sensation stirring something deep inside you.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs, his voice husky with need.
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, a mixture of anticipation and excitement flooding your senses. You cling to him, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender to the pleasure of his touch.
Orm's fingers press against the tight entrance, the sensation foreign yet undeniably arousing. He moves slowly, carefully, easing his finger past the resistance with a gentleness that belies the intensity of his desire, making you gasp as a mixture of pleasure and discomfort floods your senses.
"Relax, honey," he whispers, his breath hot against your cunt. "I'll take care of you."
You nod, your body trembling with anticipation as he continues to explore you, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Orm," you gasp, unable to form coherent words as pleasure washes over you in waves.
Orm eases his finger deeper inside you. The stretch is intense, the feeling of being filled in a way you've never experienced before, both overwhelming and exhilarating.
He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's it, honey," he murmurs, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Let go, and let me take care of you."
You moan in response as you adjust to the feeling.
You can feel every ridge and contour of his finger within you, the sensation, unlike anything you've ever felt before. As he begins to move his finger in and out, the feeling builds, pleasure mingling with the slight sting of discomfort until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins.
The sensation of being filled in both holes at once is overwhelming, desire flooding your senses as he sets a rhythm that drives you wild with need.
Orm's voice is a husky growl as he speaks, his words sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. "You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You like feeling my fingers in your tight little ass."
You whimper in response, your mind clouded by desire and undeniably overwhelmed by everything he's doing to you. His fingers move within you, stretching and filling you in a way that leaves you gasping for breath.
Orm's touch is possessive, almost primal, as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. "You're so fucking tight," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "Someday, I'll take you there too."
His words send a jolt of heat straight to your cunt, the idea of him taking you in your ass sending waves of desire crashing over you as you clench around his fingers.
"You enjoy that?" he growls, his voice low and guttural. "You enjoy being filled up like this, don't you, honey? Having both your holes stuffed?"
His dirty talk only serves to heighten your arousal, the words sending flashes of pure, hot want through your body as he works you with his fingers and mouth. You cling to him, your nails digging into his skin as you ride the wave of sensation, your body writhing with need.
Orm is relentless, his fingers moving with a skill and precision that leaves you breathless. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil wound so tightly it's about to snap.
The combination is almost unbearable. Your body feels like it's on fire, each touch and movement pushing you closer to the edge.
"Please, Orm," you whimper, your voice breaking. "I can't take it."
He grins against you, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh as he pulls back slightly, his fingers still working in and out of you, the sound of your wet pussy loud and obvious. "Not yet, sweetheart," he says, his voice a dark promise. "You can, and you will take it,"
His fingers in your cunt curl just right , pressing against your G-spot while his thumb continues its torturous circles over your clit, causing you to clench and whimper.
Meanwhile, the finger in your ass moves in and out, the tightness around it making Orm groan with satisfaction. "You're so tight here," he mutters, his voice filled with dark pleasure. "I love feeling you like this…And I think you need more to clench on."
Orm adds a second finger to your ass, stretching you slightly, the sensation both foreign and thrilling and even more intense than before.
He pumps his fingers in and out of both your ass and pussy, curling them to hit just the right spots while his tongue flicks over your clit with maddening precision. The pressure builds inside you, each touch bringing you closer to the edge, but he pulls back just before you can tumble over, denying you the release you crave driving you wild with frustration.
Your entire body is a tight coil of tension, every nerve ending on fire as he denies you your release again and again. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and you cling to him, your nails digging into his scalp as you try to pull him closer, but he keeps control, maintaining that perfect, maddening rhythm.
"Please, Orm," you sob, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes, your clit throbs almost painfully, and you feel your cunt twitching around him - you feel ready to snap.
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Beg for it," he commands, his voice a rough whisper.
"I beg you," you cry, your voice hoarse with need. "Please, let me cum. I need it. I need you ."
Orm's expression softens just a fraction, and he increases the pressure, his mouth and fingers working together to bring you to the brink once more, driving you higher and higher until you finally explode.
This time, he doesn't pull back.
The wave of pleasure crashes over you, and you scream his name as you finally find your release, your voice raw and hoarse with need. Your body convulses, every muscle tightening as the orgasm rips through you.
But Orm doesn't stop, his fingers and tongue continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your orgasm until you're shaking and breathless. He flicks his tongue rapidly over your clit while curling his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again.
The pleasure is almost too intense, your body shuddering as another orgasm builds, crashing over you in powerful waves before you've come down from your previous high.
Your vision blurs, your mind slipping into a haze of ecstasy as your senses are overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the experience.
Your legs tremble, and you clutch desperately at the counter, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Orm, oh God," you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your release.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, it's over.
You collapse against the counter, your body spent and trembling with the aftershocks of your earth-shattering climax. The world swims hazily before your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest.
The overwhelming intensity of your orgasm leaves you disoriented, and before you can fully comprehend the moment, everything goes dark, and you black out.
When you come back to your senses, you find yourself cradled in Orm's arms, his touch gentle and reassuring. His eyes, filled with love and concern, lock onto yours. He kisses your forehead softly, the warmth of his lips soothing and tender. "I love you," he murmurs, his voice low and full of adoration.
"I love you too," you whisper back tiredly, still shaking from what happened. Your body still tingles with the aftershocks of your intense release, and you feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and love.
Orm cups your face with his large, warm hand, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looks into your eyes. Through the haze in your mind, you can't help but appreciate how his blue eyes sparkle with emotion and how wet his chin, cheeks, and neck are from pleasuring you.
"You okay, honey?" he asks, his voice low and gentle, filled with genuine concern as he checks in with you.
You nod and bite your lip, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm okay," you manage to say, your voice breathless and shaky.
Orm's thumb slides over your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine. He leans in to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his tongue, the sensation causing you to clench around nothing and whine into the kiss.
The feeling of his residual wetness on your skin and the hardness of his cock pressing against your bare cunt only heightens your desire.
The fire in you, which had dimmed to a soft glimmer, now flares back with full fervour, threatening to consume you whole. Every touch, every breath, feels like it's adding fuel to the inferno raging within you.
When the kiss breaks, your hands move frantically to Orm's shirt. You tug at the fabric, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through your core and obliges you by pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
Your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him, his muscular chest and chiselled abs glistening slightly from the exertion. The light catches on his body, highlighting the hard lines and contours that speak of strength and power.
The prominent vein running down his biceps stands out starkly against his skin, leading your eyes down to the rest of his strong arm. You trace its path with your gaze, marvelling at the sheer strength contained within.
His pecs are firm and inviting, his nipples hardening slightly in the cool air, a contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His chest, broad and sculpted, rises and falls with his heavy breathing, the rhythm hypnotic and alluring.
Your eyes travel down to his abs, each ridge and valley inviting your touch, a landscape of desire that begs to be explored. The lines of them lead your gaze downward to where his hard dick strains against his pants, the sight making your pulse quicken and your mouth go dry with longing.
You can't help but run your hands over his firm muscles. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, a reminder of just how much you want him. His skin is warm and smooth under your touch, and you can feel the tension coiled in his body, ready to be unleashed.
"God, you're so hot," you murmur, your voice filled with awe and desire, your mind still hazy from the orgasm he gave you as the words slip out without thought.
He chuckles lowly at both your words and behaviour.
"You find this amusing?" you ask, breathless, as you trace the lines of his body with your fingers.
Orm's eyes darken with a mix of amusement and desire. "I find it amusing how needy you are," he says, his voice a low growl. "But I can't deny that I enjoy it. Don't think I have forgotten how you laughed at me with those onions."
He steps back slightly, his hands moving to the waistband of his pants. With a fluid motion, he pulls them down, followed by his underwear. His hard cock springs free, standing tall and proud and glistening with precum. The sight of him, fully naked and aroused, sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.
You reach out, your fingers wrapping around his cock. Orm groans, his head falling back as you stroke him, his muscles tensing and rippling under your touch as you pump him a few times.
He opens his eyes, the intensity of his gaze piercing through you. "I need you," he murmurs his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sends shivers down your spine.
He leans in to kiss you again, his hands roaming over your body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and dip.
His hands trail down from your face, caressing your neck and shoulders, before moving to your breasts. He teases your nipples, rolling them between his fingers and sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You arch your back, pushing your breasts into his hands, your body responding eagerly to his touch.
"Orm," you murmur, your voice filled with need. "I want you."
He steps closer, positioning himself between your legs once more. His hands grip your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. "Then you shall have me," he says, his voice rough with desire.
As he presses against you, you feel his thick, hard cock sliding against your cunt, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through you. He doesn't enter you yet; he just teases you, making you gasp and moan with each movement.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard," he growls into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
You whimper in response, the anticipation driving you to the edge again. "Orm, please," you beg, your voice a desperate plea.
He chuckles darkly, a possessive gleam in his eyes. "I know, honey," he murmurs. He continues to tease you, his tip brushing against your slick folds, the sensation almost too much to bear. You moan, your hips bucking in response, desperate for more.
Finally, when you think you can't take it anymore, he positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours.
With a gentle yet firm push, he slides into you, stretching and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, and you cry out, and your body arches into his, a mixture of pleasure and relief as he buries himself to the hilt, the fullness making you feel complete.
Orm pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving yours. "God, you feel amazing," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
He moves slowly at first, savouring the feel of you around him, each thrust measured and controlled.
His hands roam over your body, caressing your breasts, your waist, your thighs. Every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you, making you arch and writhe against him. His fingers find your nipples, pinching and rolling them gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your cunt, making you moan wantonly.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.
You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to move faster, his thrusts deep and powerful. The rhythm is intoxicating, a dance of passion and desire that leaves you breathless. His cock fills you completely, hitting all the right spots with each powerful thrust.
He leans down to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same fervour as his hips.
"You feel so good," he groans, his voice rough with pleasure, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "So tight, so perfect." His breath is hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"Orm," you moan, your voice a desperate plea. "I'm so close."
He smiles against your skin, his movements growing more urgent. "Not yet," he growls, his voice still carrying a hint of grumpiness.
He slows his thrusts, pulling back almost entirely so only his tip is inside your pussy before pushing back in with agonising slowness. The deliberate pace keeps you on the edge, your body begging for release. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing in slow, teasing circles that make you whimper.
"Sweetheart, please," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I can't take it."
Your body trembles with the intensity of the sensations, each stroke of his cock pushing you closer to the edge. You can feel every inch of him, every vein, every ridge, and it's driving you wild. His touch is everywhere, his hands roaming over your body, caressing, squeezing, sending sparks of pleasure through you.
"Orm, oh God," you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need. "Please, let me cum."
His eyes lock onto yours, and he sees the desperation there.
His expression softens, and he increases the pressure, his thumb circling your clit more firmly while his other hand grips your hip, pulling you even closer. His thrusts become deeper, more powerful, each one sparking that fire inside you. The tension builds, a tight coil of need that threatens to fracture at any moment.
His hips start to snap against yours with a rhythm that is both demanding and precise, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. He leans down to kiss you again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts.
You cling to him, your nails digging into his broad, muscular back as you meet each thrust with equal intensity. The feel of his bare skin against yours, the play of his defined muscles under your fingertips, adds to the intoxicating pleasure. His chest, hard and chiselled, presses against your breasts, the friction against your sensitive nipples like adding fuel to the fire in your veins.
You moan in response, your hips bucking against his as the pleasure builds higher and higher, an unstoppable crescendo. The slick friction of his cock inside you, the pressure of his pelvis and thumb against your clit with every thrust, drives you mad with desire.
His movements grow more urgent, his thrusts faster and harder. The sound of your bodies coming together, the slick heat of your arousal, fills the room.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you, needing him closer. "Orm," you moan, your voice a desperate plea.
"Do it," he growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic, the control slipping as he nears his peak. "Cum for me, honey. Let me feel you." His words are a command and a plea, the urgency in his voice pushing you over the edge.
You scream his name as you shatter around him, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless once more. Your body convulses, every muscle tightening around him, your cunt gripping his cock in a vice-like hold that draws a guttural moan from deep within him.
Orm continues to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm and driving you to the edge of madness.
His movements become frantic, his rhythm breaking as he succumbs to his own release. He thrusts into you one last time, deep and hard, and you feel the hot, pulsating rush of his cum filling you. His body shudders, and he holds you close, his breath ragged and his heart pounding against yours, his head buried in your shoulder.
As the last tremors of pleasure fade, Orm pulls back slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. He looks utterly spent, his body drenched in sweat that glistens in the light, and his hair plastered to his forehead. You reach out to brush it from his eyes and cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his breath on your face. He smiles at you, a sweet, loving smile that makes your heart flutter, before leaning forward and pressing a long, tender kiss to your forehead.
He pulls back and lifts you from the counter, cradling you in his arms. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmurs, carrying you to the bathroom with a tenderness that makes your heart swell with love.
A/N: I love Orm so, so much, and I've wanted to write for him since my major obsession with the first movie back in 2019. The sequel was everything I could have wanted for his character, and now that he's had the perfect open ending to his cinematic story, I finally let the inspiration run wild. This is the longest fic I've ever posted, and I'm proud to say he was the muse that inspired it.
Description: Orm Marius/Ocean Master x Fem!Reader (human), friends to lovers | Warnings: suggestive themes, steaminess at the end, cataclysmic levels of fluff throughout | Setting: after The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 5.8k
Gif credit: user acecroft
Imagine Orm opening up to you about who he truly is, and wanting to be part of your world
If someone had asked you a few months ago where you liked to be most, you wouldn't have said the boardwalk. Now, it'd become your favorite place in the world. Not for the noisy crowds, overpriced deep-fried foods, or vendors overflowing with cheap beachwear and souvenirs for the tourists. Those things you could have done without. That is, until you met Orm. Ever since that fateful day, everything around you had transformed into something new and exciting. Today was no different.
"I can't believe you've never had a corn dog before," you say.
Orm walks alongside you, well into his second serving. "And I can't believe something this abysmal in appearance can taste so good," he replies before taking another bite.
"Seriously, what have you been eating all this time?" you ask, wiping the mustard from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.
He swallows before answering, "Fish, mostly."
He was completely serious, as usual.
"You really love seafood, don't you?"
"Where I'm from, it's just called food," he counters.
Once again, you found yourself wanting to ask where exactly that place was. The last time you inquired yielded little insight. He gave a vague reply to the tune of "somewhere far away" and quickly changed the subject. For a while, you'd assumed he was originally European or something like that. Yet the more time went on, the more difficult it became to believe in that explanation. There must be a reason he did not want to talk about it, and you knew when he was ready, he would probably tell you. Still, you couldn't help but wonder where he had come from, and why he had not showed up sooner.
"So, what did you think of your first corn dog?" you ask instead.
"It was excellent. And I imagine it will not be my last," he says, tossing the stick into a trashcan as you walk by, "I still don't understand the name though, if it's not made of dog."
"Me either, honestly," you laugh as you toss your trash as well, "I'll have to look it up sometime."
"Speaking of, I listened to the singer you told me about."
"You did? What did you think?!" you exclaim, almost bumping into a passerby in your excitement.
"She is quite good, vocally. But I do think Ms. Parton would have more success exposing her rival publicly," he suggests.
"I know you're not talking about Jolene right now," you burst out laughing, covering your mouth.
"Indeed. This Jolene is a siren. She lures men with her wiles, and then goes unpunished because of her beauty," he explains wholeheartedly, holding his arms behind his back.
"Well that's the point of the song. Dolly is calling her out," you remind, "Plus what about her man? Shouldn't he get some of the blame? Falling for Jolene when he's already in a relationship? I mean come on, he's talking about her in his sleep. That's pretty low."
"Indeed, he misses the treasure that is right in front of him because he too has no honor," he expounds, his expression turning thoughtful, "You're right. Ultimately, they're deserving of each other."
"See! I told you," you chuckle victoriously.
Orm shakes his head, "I could not be tempted by such a woman."
"Oh, I don't know. You heard Dolly. Her beauty is 'beyond compare'."
"That is merely a facade," he dismisses, waving his hand, "Besides, I have seen far more beautiful than her."
You're about to inquire about his remark, but then you realize he's looking over at you. You can only hold his attentive gaze a moment before averting your eyes toward your feet, heart fluttering.
The previous moment still hanging heavy in the air, you walk together quietly for a minute before Orm stops in front of a beachwear vendor.
"Now that is amusing," he declares.
You backup a couple of steps to stand alongside him, "What is?"
He points to a pink tee shirt, the image of a mermaid riding on the back of a smiling dolphin printed on the front. "Dolphins are actually quite aggressive. They do not enjoy having riders on their backs. Sharks are much better mounts."
You stare at him, brow furrowed. "And how do you know that exactly?"
"I, uh, saw it on a television program," he stutters, "about taming sea life."
That was a lie if you'd ever heard one, and a strange one no less.
"Uh-huh," you reply unconvinced, walking away.
In silence, you resume your short walk to the end of the dock, Orm trailing close behind you. Once you reach the end, you lean over and rest your arms on the weathered wood railing, and he stands beside you. A few moments pass as you watch the waves crash upon the shore below and breathe in the salt air. It's not long before you feel his gaze on you once again.
He finally speaks, hesitation thick in his voice, "Something...on your mind?"
You smirk to yourself before looking over at him, "I'm just trying to figure you out."
"What do you mean?" he asks, concern visible in his bright eyes.
"I've never met anyone like you before. So much of what you say is a mystery," you remark.
"That is a fair point," he concedes, "I don't wish to vex you. There's just...so much that I don't know how to say."
You stand up straighter, smiling at him softly.
"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Everyone has parts of themselves that they hide. Parts they don't want anyone else to see. There's nothing wrong with that," you reply, turning towards the ocean, "You don't like talking about your past, and I respect that. I just don't want you to think you have to hide. It's awful feeling like you don't belong, just for being yourself. I wouldn't want that for you."
"That is kind of you to say. Truly." He mirrors your posture on the railing, moving closer to you as a result. "You don't make me want to hide, Y/N. Quite the opposite, actually. I've learned so many things from you these past few weeks, and I have greatly enjoyed your company."
You look back to him, your heart skipping, "So have I."
His gaze softens. "I've also never met anyone like you before. You find joy and purpose in even the smallest of things. It inspires me how gracefully you view the world. And I've known no one whom I've wanted to share it with more."
Everything else around you melted away as you find yourself becoming just as lost in his eyes as you've been in his words.
Before either of you can move an inch closer, the chime of your cellphone cuts through the thick air between you.
Cursing inwardly, you shoot upright, embarrassed, and retrieve it from your pocket. It's an all-caps text from your sister with many exclamation marks, quickly followed by another. The sister you just now realized you forgot needed picked up.
"Oh no. I have to go," you say, frenzied, "My sister's waiting for me. I have to drive her home from her class, I completely forgot!"
"I understand," he nods, touching your arm assuringly, "Do you want me to accompany you back to the lot?"
"I really appreciate it, but I literally have to run. I'm so sorry, Orm," you say, turning to leave.
You make it only a few steps before you hear him call out.
"Y/N!"
Despite the urgency of your escape, you can't help but turn on your heel expectantly.
"Would you meet me tomorrow? Down on the beach, beneath the pier around sunset?"
A grin spreads across your face. "I'll be there!"
♆
It took everything in you not to grin like an idiot the entire drive to pick up your less-than-amused sister. You weren't ready for the brutal interrogation that would surely come if she saw the look you knew was on your face. After apologizing to her profusely and letting her chew you out, as was her sisterly right, her suspicions were already raised.
"You've never looked this happy for me to yell at you," she said, glaring at you.
"I'm just really enjoying my book! I started the sequel I told you about," you defended, flashing a smile even you knew was pretty fake.
"Enough to forget all about me," she rolled her eyes and punched your arm, "You're not telling me something, I know it."
"I'm dying to know if she's really the lost heir to the throne, I heard the reveal is like halfway through," you add, ignoring her last words.
"Mhm," she grumbled, "Fine don't tell me. I'll figure it out, just wait. You can't hide from me."
"The only thing I need to hide from you is my chocolate bars," you argue in a desperate attempt to throw her off the subject.
"I'll find those too," she snickered confidently.
You laughed it off and went back to biting down hard on your lip. It was the only thing you could do not to spill everything to her as she continued to give you the side-eye. Your body was at the steering wheel, but your mind, and your heart, were back on that boardwalk. The final glare she gave you in her driveway was unmissable, but for now, you'd evaded being found out as you made a getaway back to your own apartment.
That night you'd hardly slept, the moment at the end of the dock replaying in your mind over and over well into the morning. Work only made it worse, the monotony making the perfect backdrop to picture what the coming evening would bring. When your shift ended, you couldn't get out of there fast enough to go home and change.
Now, with sunset fast approaching, you were circling the parking lot trying to find a space, and close to bribing someone to move, when a spot finally opened up.
"Someone loves me," you exhale, hurriedly locking your car as you throw your bag over your shoulder.
The words linger in your thoughts. You can't help but blush at the notion, given your current destination, and who was waiting there.
In some ways it seemed like a lifetime since you met Orm, and in others it felt like only yesterday. The memory of that fateful day comes to the front of your thoughts as you start the long trek to the path that cuts through the dunes.
Unlike your fib from last night, you'd actually been desperate to finish the book your coworker had been pestering you about all summer. With only four chapters left, you'd escaped to the boardwalk one sunny Tuesday afternoon, hoping to find a bench, a fresh lemonade, and far less crowds than the weekend so that you could finally finish in peace.
Just as you'd sucked up the last drop of your drink and reached the last handful of pages, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. On a bench across the way from you, you saw a man trying to untangle the most knotted pair of earbuds you'd ever seen in your life. You watched him from behind the top of your book, and suppressed a giggle as he became more animated in frustration. He ran a hand through his blond hair and seemed near to giving up on the whole endeavor. Unable to watch him struggle any longer, you tucked your book beneath your arm, tossed your empty cup in the trash, and started to walk over.
"He did this on purpose," he muttered as you approached.
"I can take a crack at them, if you'd like."
In his fierce concentration, he hadn't noticed you approach. He jumped a bit at your greeting, and squinted up at you, confused.
"Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Would you like some help with those?" you smiled hesitantly, "I just, I couldn't help but notice you were having a hard time with them."
"Well, you are welcome to try," he invited with a sigh, extending them to you, "Although I have seen seaweed less entangled than this."
You took them and sat down beside him, analyzing the knots.
"Earbuds are pretty notorious for getting tangled," you began, pausing to focus a moment, "These, however, look like a sailor used them to practice tying his knots."
"Courtesy of my brother," he said with no small amount of exasperation, "He delights in making things difficult for me."
"As brothers are wont to do."
"Indeed," he conceded.
Untying your own numerous pairs of earbuds over the years had more than prepared you for this moment. You'd made quick work of separating the right and left buds, down to the last few kinks in each.
"You're quite skilled at this," he observed.
"I should probably put it on my resume, huh?" you chuckled as you conquered the final knot.
"I think you might consider it," he laughed as well.
At last, all the tangles were gone.
"There you go," you declared, handing them back, "Good as new."
"Impressive," he remarked, marveling at your handiwork before looking back at you, "Thank you for your assistance."
"You're welcome," you smiled and pointed to the iPod in his lap, "What do you like to listen to, if you don't mind me asking?"
He hesitated, picking it up, "I'm...not actually sure how this device works. Are you familiar with the technology?"
"An iPod?" you laugh, "Yeah, I had one in high school. It's been a while and it wasn't this exact model, but they're all pretty much the same. MP3 players, that is. I had so many songs on mine, I couldn't add any more. Never went anywhere without it. I had to tape it together in senior year because I used it so much."
"Perhaps you could show me how to properly operate it?" he posed, turning towards you more, "My brother sent it to me. He said it contains music inside that I must hear, but I'm at a loss on knowing how to make it play."
You gazed at him bewildered a moment, caught off guard. Never had you met anyone who didn't know how to work an iPod before. But then again, you reminded yourself, not everyone had a chance to own one.
"Sure," you grinned, "I can show you. There's not too much to it, really, once you know the basics."
"Thank you," he replied sincerely, "It's not often that I've met a lady with such kindness, and lightness of fingers."
Heat immediately rushed to your cheeks at his gracious works, and suddenly it was difficult to hold the gaze of his rich blue eyes.
"It's no problem at all," you replied, offering your hand, "I'm Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Orm Marius, and the pleasure is mine."
Before you could blink, he'd taken your hand, and instead of shaking it, he kissed your knuckles. If he had lingered, perhaps it would have alarmed you. But he did it so quickly, it was like it was second-nature to him. Practiced or not, your head spun nonetheless, and launching into an urgent, flustered spiel about how to power on the iPod was all you could do to keep yourself held together.
You spent the next half an hour showing him everything from the buttons to the way to change the background image on the menus. Before long, you were talking about all of your favorite songs and artists, simultaneously making lists for each that he would have to listen to. Orm listened eagerly to your recommendations, and soon the conversation turned to any and every subject, from foods to places to dreams. You still remember the feeling of the rest of the world fading away as you talked to him, afternoon turning to evening. And the thrill you felt when he asked if he could see you again.
In the almost four months since, every meeting followed much in the same manner as that first day, with introducing Orm to the many things he'd never experienced before, and hours of conversation on the pier or walking along the beach. You'd stolen away to this area as many times as possible to see him, well over a dozen now. Of course your sister was more suspicious than ever after yesterday, but you still weren't ready to reveal where you'd been spending so many evenings, and who you'd spent them with. There was something exhilarating about you and Orm meeting secretly, and you wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.
He had such wonder about the world, like someone who'd not been in it very long. It was one of his oddest qualities, but his curiosity was endearing to you. Despite knowing so little about his past, you'd come to trust him like few others in your life. Whoever he'd been before, and wherever he was from, it seemed he had no intention on going back. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't want him to. There were so many places you wanted to take him further inland, yet he was still hesitant to go far from from the ocean. You'd never gone beyond a couple of blocks from the boardwalk together, but tonight, with the energy of yesterday's encounter fresh in your mind, you'd planned to breech the topic with him.
Now, the sun is sinking lower in the pale orange sky and your pulse quickens with the threat of being late. With all your reminiscing and daydreaming, you'd lost track of the time. You nearly run across the wooden walkway over the dunes and down the broad stairs. As soon as your feet hit the sand, you remove your sandals. Grasping them in one hand and the strap of your bookbag in the other, you take off into the best sprint you can manage. The pier is still a good distance up the beach, and you want to curse out whoever built the access so far away. You run at an angle towards the water, the wetter ground giving you better traction than the loose sand.
Just within the shadow of the great structure, you finally see Orm up ahead, his back turned. Out of breath, you slow your pace and try to catch some of it back before you reach him. Once he's within ear shot you call out to him.
"I'm sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday," you pant.
He spins on his heel. Relief is written all over his face.
"You came. I was afraid you might not," he sighs, walking up to meet you.
"Of course," you exhale, dropping your shoes and brushing away the hair clinging to your forehead, "Why wouldn't I?"
His expression indicates he had not thought of an answer to that question.
"I don't know," he hesitates, "I didn't mean anything by that. I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't. I did ask you at the last minute."
You can't help but chuckle as he stumbles regretfully all over his words.
"I brought you something," you declare to change the subject, much to his gratitude.
"A gift? For me?"
You can tell by his tone that he is actually baffled. Reaching into your satchel, you retrieve the item. In your outstretched palm, you hold a small snow globe, a miniature skyline of New York City contained inside.
His confused expression leads you to elaborate. "It's called a snow globe," you say, turning it upside down so that the little flakes inside swirl around, "You told me once that you never get to see snow where you're from. Now you can see it whenever you want."
He tentatively takes it, entranced by the miniature flurry.
"That's where I'm from. Well, I grew up there. We moved here when I was sixteen," you add, chuckling, "It's a little bit nicer in person."
Orm looks up at you, visibly touched by the gesture, "It's wonderful. Thank you."
"You're welcome," you smile, "I, hope that I can show you the real thing some day."
"I would like that," he replies with the smallest hint of sadness, pausing to behold it again, "I will treasure this always."
You'd never met anyone who talked like he did. Everything word he spoke was with full conviction. Others might sound pompous or conceited speaking the way he does, but when he said something, you believed he truly meant it.
"I'm glad you like it," you say, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I do, very much," he says, frowning a bit, "I'm only sorry that I have nothing to give you in return."
"That's alright," you dismiss.
"Will you keep it safe for me while we are by the water? I regret that I have no pockets large enough to carry it."
"Absolutely," you say, putting it securely back inside your bag, "I know that feeling all too well."
When you finish with the zipper and lift your head up, you see Orm offering his arm to you. Surprised, and twice as excited, you take it.
As you cross beneath the pier and set off down the beach together, you suppress the urge to glance up at him. You agonize over what to say next, hoping he would speak first. When he did, it only made your heart beat faster.
"Actually, when I said I had nothing to give you, that was not entirely true," he said, clearing his throat before going on, "As much as I enjoy your educating me in foods and traditions I've never tried, I was hoping this evening we might enjoy a treat of a different kind."
Just up ahead, something on the shore comes into view. Your mind races in anticipation, and moments later, you come upon a blue blanket spread out neatly across the sand. A single white rose lies in the middle.
"Oh Orm," you breathe.
"It's not much, but I thought you would like to watch the sunset with at least some level of comfort," he says, a veil of nervousness in his voice.
"It's perfect," you exclaim.
He releases your arm and picks up the rose, presenting it to you.
"For you."
You feel nearly breathless once more as you take the flower and inhale its sweet fragrance.
"It's beautiful," you sigh, "Thank you."
He smiles timidly at your approval. "Shall we?"
"This is amazing," you say, removing your bag and carefully sitting down on the soft blanket.
He follows suit, and you gently place the rose in your lap as he comes to rest close beside you. The glow of the setting sun warms your skin, but it's nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.
You'd never seen him act like this before. He was normally so calm and collected, but now he was almost pure nerves. You work up the courage to glance over at him. He's staring hard ahead, clenching his jaw and rolling a seashell between his fingers. It's slowly becoming clear that you're not the only one who wanted to say something this evening. Normally, you found the rolling of the waves to be one of most soothing sounds in the world. But at this moment, they were far too loud.
You decide you have to break the excruciating silence.
"I've only watched a true beach sunset alone before."
Your voice brings him out from his trance. "I've also been by myself. I'm glad I have someone to share the splendor with."
"Me too."
He smiles weakly, and fixes his stare back on the horizon.
To your disappointment, the silence returns. Before long, everything is bathed in golden light. The sky transforms into rich oranges and reds before your eyes. The beach is surprisingly deserted apart from the seagulls and sand pipers, making it seem all the more that this moment was tailor-made just for the two of you.
Just when you're about to speak again, Orm at last turns towards you.
"I wish I could show you my world, Y/N. It is a realm of beauty, and strength, and light. You belong in such a place."
You feel your cheeks flush as he continues.
"Where I'm from, you can't see the stars at night. But there is a place with magnificent, glowing lights. A cave, filled with luminescence of every color you can imagine. You would absolutely love it."
"That sounds magical." You hang on his every word as you try to picture it.
"My mother used to take me there when I was a boy. I remember my whole hand disappearing inside hers." He smiled at the memory, but it faded as he spoke once more, "We used to go there seeking solace from my father."
Frowning, he throws the seashell towards the water. The sun begins to dissolve into the ocean, but neither of you take notice.
"Did you not get along?" you ask, hoping it was not too personal to do so.
His gaze falls downward again. "That's one way of putting it. Growing up in his shadow was- challenging. He was severe about many things, and against all of the rest. He expected me to become just like him. Demanded it, more like. Yet he was never up to the task of teaching me how. I wanted nothing more than to please him, but as I look back on it now, I'm not sure that I ever did. I was never worthy enough to be his son."
His words make your chest ache. You reach to gently touch his hand on the blanket.
"You are not an unworthy son," you assert, your feelings coming to the surface, "He was an unworthy father. I don't need to have met him to know that. Because I know you, and you are a good man. The most thoughtful, polite, decent man I've ever met."
He stares at you, emotion all over his face. A wistful look shines in his eyes.
"If only I had known you then," he reflects, "Perhaps I would not have gotten so lost in the tides of his storm."
"I wish I had known you too," you agree, more shyly than you'd expected, "But wouldn't have needed me. You already survived it, all on your own. You're stronger than he ever was."
His expression steels.
"Y/N, there is something I must tell you," he says, his tone turning grave, "It will not be easy for you to hear it, but I can't go on without you knowing what I am. I cannot hide it any longer. You deserve to know the truth."
Your heart starts to race quicker than your thoughts at his startling declaration. "What do you mean?"
Without warning, he casts off his jacket and stands up.
"Orm, what are you talking about?"
"Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you," he says, reaching out his hand to you, "I want you to understand. No more secrets."
For just a moment, you look up into his pleading eyes. Then, as if it had even been a choice, you carefully set the rose aside and take his hand. He helps you to your feet and leads you down past the water's edge. The cool water on your feet sends a shiver up your spine. The foam is lapping at your ankles when he stops just in front of you.
"You see that marker?" he points ahead.
The breeze whips your hair into your sight as you fight to push it away. You have to squint to see the outline of the buoy, the red light on top twinkling faintly in the twilight.
"Yes," you hesitate.
"Keep your eye on it," he directs calmly.
With that one instruction, he retreats further into the water, stopping until it is well above his waist. You cross your arms against the chill of sea spray and wait worriedly. He looks up and down the beach, as if to make sure no one is watching. You are still alone. Before you can call out to him, he dives headlong into the waves.
What follows you can only describe as a thunder beneath the water. It looks as if a missile has been launched from where Orm stood, careening toward the marker. Mere seconds later, a blast like a whale spout shoots above the horizon, and the buoy rocks violently as it is landed upon by the figure that flew up out of the sea.
A gasp escapes from your agape mouth as you witness the silhouette wave at you, and proceed to dive back into the blue.
Three pounding heartbeats later, Orm immerges from the surf and walks toward you, slicking back his dripping hair. His tee shirt clings to his muscular form, and his soaked jeans don't seem to encumber him at all. You're frozen in the sand, staring at him with only one word on your parted lips.
"How..."
"There's no simple way to say it, but you must know. I am from the Kingdom of Atlantis," he confesses, struggling to hold your stare, "I am Prince Orm Marius, son of Queen Atlanna. Although I was once ruler, I made many mistakes during my time on the throne for which I was banished. My penance is served by my exile here on the surface. I deserve my fate, and I gladly uphold it, but it is not something I wanted to keep from you any longer. I'm sorry that I was not honest with you sooner, but I didn't think that I could trust any surface-dweller with my secret. I was...proven wrong."
"You're a real Atlantean?" you manage to get out.
"I am," he nods, apprehension still in his voice, "I was raised to hate the surface and its inhabitants, but much has changed. You, Y/N, have had no small part in that."
Despite your reeling head, it's slowly becoming clear what Orm is saying by this grand unveiling of his true identity. As you struggle to process it, however, your silence compels him to go on.
"If all of this is too much, I understand. It is my burden to bear, and you did not ask to be part of it."
"I-It's not that," you stammer as the shock starts to wear off. You step closer to him. "Not at all. It's just a lot to take in. I need a minute, that's all. I promise."
Hope lights up his eyes.
"Absolutely," he agrees eagerly, "I apologize, I know this reveal was sudden. Please ask any questions that you have. I will withhold nothing from you."
As you finally begin look at him instead of through him, only one question lodged in your throat.
"Why?" you ask through threatening tears, "Why did you tell me all this?"
You knew why, because it was the same reason you wanted to tell him all of your own secrets. The same reason you came back to this beach over and over. The same reason your heart skipped every time you saw his handsome face, and heard him speak your name. You just wanted to hear him say it. For any of this to work, you needed to hear it.
His anxious gaze softens as he weighs his answer.
"I meant every word of what I told you yesterday. When I'm with you, I see a future that I never thought I would deserve. You make me feel like I can be more than I've ever been. And for the first time in my life, I have felt true happiness," he says, finding the words along with his conviction, "I never thought I would belong anywhere but Atlantis, but now, I want to know more about this world and its many gifts. And most of all, I want you to be by my side to show it to me."
"I want that too," you respond, tears threatening.
He gently takes your hand in his. "Even after all that I've done, part of me hoped that I might find some kind of redemption here on the surface. I wasn't sure how, and then I met you," he says tearfully, searching your eyes, "Y/N, you gave me that hope. Your goodness, your charity, your beauty. This realm has much to offer, more than I ever dreamed, but you are what I love most about the surface. From that very first day we spoke, I knew that you were what I was meant to find here."
Your vision blurs as he reaches to gently stroke your cheek.
"All of that to say...I've fallen in love with you, Y/N."
A sob escapes your throat as you look into his eyes and see it.
"I fell for you too. From the first day," you nod, finding your own confidence, "Being Atlantean doesn't change that. I don't care about who you've been or what you've done. I want to be with you. I love you too, Orm."
His composure crumbles along with yours as you embrace. The distance between you vanishes as your lips meet in a desperate kiss. You rest your hands on his chest and melt into his touch. He sighs and deepens the kiss, pulling you close against him. You feel the coolness of this still-dripping clothes soak through to your skin as you become lost in the taste of salt and longing. When you're forced to come up for air, you're both beaming.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he smiles, caressing your face.
"Me too," you giggle, lacing your arms around his neck, "What did you think of your first surface-dweller kiss?"
"Not too bad. I think I'll have to try it again before I decide if I really like it," he smirks.
"Well, if you get me out of this frigid water, I'll see what I can do about that," you tease back.
"Now that I can do," he announces.
You shriek in surprise as he swiftly lifts you from the water and into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. He chuckles in amusement and carries you bridal style back toward the shore.
"Orm!" you protest, in an obviously half-hearted fashion.
"I have to admit, concealing my Atlantean strength has been considerably more difficult than I anticipated," he reveals, wincing a bit, "I intended to bring a bottle of wine tonight as well, but- the glass here is far weaker than what I'm accustomed to."
You laugh. "Well, it's the thought that counts."
"I'm glad you think so. Because I thought since I'm responsible for us missing the best part of the sunset, that perhaps we could lie under the stars instead?" he suggests, setting you down gently on your feet upon the blanket.
"I would love to," you say, looking up at him, "But aren't you freezing in those clothes?"
"I'm used to it," he shrugs, "I don't think I feel the cold the same as you."
"In that case," you say, pulling him closer into a tender kiss, "What do you think about that?"
He grins.
"It was perfect, and I'm certain it will not be my last."
You no longer feel the chill as you cling to him, and he rests his forehead to yours. It didn't matter where the tides of life would take you next. As long as Orm was there to hold you in the waves, you would always be in your favorite place.
Could you do 6 and 16 for Orm if he's not allowed Steve.
.⋆｡Dosage｡⋆.
Orm Marius x plus size reader
You get stuck babysitting the Ocean Master, you should’ve guessed that he would stir up some trouble
Warnings: sex pollen so little bit of dub-con, mention of tranquilisers and death, Batman not being helpful, swearing, no smut but nudity and implied smut
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
5k Follower Celebration
You wondered what you did to warrant this terrible punishment. The lab was silent, your music having been forcefully turned off by your employer an hour before and you were pinned to your seat by the icy blue eyes of your charge.
Babysitting, that’s what you had been reduced to. It’s not like your three PHDs could be put to better use than making sure Arthur’s brother didn’t wander off and get himself into trouble. You rationalised that you could deal with it fine as long as he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself but evidently the ex King of Atlantis had a serious staring problem and it was so much more distracting than if he had been chatting your ear off.
Sighing heavily, your head dropped between your shoulders and you pulled your glasses off your nose. “Do you really have to stare at me the whole time like some kind of fucking vouyer?” Orm huffed, finally looking away and giving you a chance to observe the Atlantian.
There was no doubt that he was beautiful, with a chilled jaw, perfect skin, fluffy blond hair and a body that would rival Michelangelo’s David but as soon as he opened his mouth, all that beauty melted away. He was arrogant and entitled and for some damn reason he refused to let you work in peace.
“You should be honoured to be in my presence human.” Your eye twitched in annoyance. Breathe Y/N, breathe. You told yourself. You crossed your legs and shot Orm a look that would’ve had Batman shaking in his boots.
“Just- find something else to do and let me work, please.” He raised a dark brow at you but nodded anyway. His muscles rippled beneath the compression shirt he had been given upon his arrival to the tower. You forced yourself to look away and back to your work. “All I need is an hour and then we can find something productive for you to do.”
He hummed noncommittally, which you were perfectly fine with.
The lab settled into a blissful silence and you were finally, thankfully, able to really plug into the data analysis that you had been putting off. Occasionally, you could see the disgraced prince out of the corner of your eye as he wandered around the lab, his hands clasped behind his back. He could follow directions well, you would give him that.
You didn’t mind the company, now that he was not staring at you like a fucking creep, in fact he was quite comforting considering you spent most days in complete isolation save for when Batman needed yet another project completed.
Just as you were reaching the final compiling, Orm’s voice rang through the lab as if he were commanding his people. “What the fuck is sex pollen?” Your entire body seized with fear and as you turned your chair to face him, time slowed.
His large hand had turned one of the many labelled specimen jars in the open cabinet at the other end of the lab, the cabinet that you had forgotten to lock when Bruce had barged in earlier. Your eyes widened almost comically as the delicate jar tipped and the neon pink dust gathered to one side. Orm tried to grab the sealed beaker but the glass was already rolling off the shelf.
Your hand was already moving towards the contamination shut down as the container met the solid ground, shattering immediately.
The pollen exploded outwards, coating everything within 2 metres of the impact point in a bright pink dust. Orm coughed and tried to wipe it from his skin, but the pollen was already soaking in, quickly making its way into his bloodstream.
The lab doors slammed shut and the industrial strength locks clicked into place. You yanked a medical mask from your workstation and quickly tugged it on as you rushed towards Orm, whose face was now flushed. His chest was already heaving with laboured breaths and as you drew closer, you could see the sweat collecting on his brow.
“Hey, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now.” His gaze snapped to you and you held up your hands to show that you weren’t a threat. “We can fix this, we just have to work together. Understand?” He nodded his head and you sighed in relief.
“I need you to strip off your clothes, the longer you’re in them, the more pollen you’ll ingest. And then I’m putting you in the decontamination shower until I figure out how this is going to fuck with your fishy DNA.” You expected some fight out of the prince but he followed your directions to the letter, his eyes staring intently into your own.
You were thankful for your mask concealing your face as he pulled off his shirt, exposing the toned muscles of his stomach. You swallowed thickly, heat defiantly pooling between your thighs as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked them down. Evidently, Atlantians didn’t wear underwear. He leaned closer to you, his nostrils flaring.
Orm’s eyelids fluttered as he let out the most erotic groan you had ever heard. “Fuck, why do you smell so fucking good?” You hated to admit it, but your knees buckled at that. Swallowing down the whine that threatened to spill from your lips, you pulled yourself together.
“O-okay now, into the shower.” You nodded your head towards the stall in the corner of the lab but Orm remained still. His breathing was quickening and his pupils were blown, leaving only a sliver of blue around the black. You stepped in that direction but still, he refused to follow.
“Goddamnit.” You muttered and grabbed his muscular shoulder, forcefully yanking him to the stall and quickly shoving him inside before he had a chance to refuse. You locked the door, knowing that there was no possible way for him to drown himself, and started the auto decontamination.
As soon as he lost sight of you, Orm gave a shout of protest and slammed his fists against the door. “No! Come back!” The glass trembled with the force of his blows and if it weren’t for Bruce’s tendency to make everything strong enough to hold Clark back for a minute at least, you would have been scared of it shattering.
You carefully walked backwards to your desk, your eyes locked onto the shower which was now running but it was doing nothing to hinder the man inside. In fact, his efforts to get out doubled as the water hit his overheated skin. “You’re mine!” He screamed and a crack appeared in the glass.
You snatched up the phone that directly connected you to Bruce, pressing it to your ear as you continued to back up. As soon as you heard his gruff voice, you shouted at him. “Orm ingested that sex pollen shit from Ivy, what the fuck do I do?”
There was a pause and for a second you thought the line had dropped. Then he sighed heavily into the receiver. “Fuck. The antidote you developed won’t work on him since he doesn’t have any human DNA and his body won’t burn out the pollen fast enough before his system overheats.” Silence settled between you as the solution dawned on both of you at the same time. “So-“
“So I’ll have to help him through it or he dies.” You finished his thought for him.
“I’m sorry kid.” Then the call cut off. Orm threw his body at the door and another crack appeared. You had a choice here, there was a tranquiliser in the drawer of your desk that could put down Flash, you could wait for the door to shatter and use it against the raging prince. Or…
Your mask dropped to the floor, along with your shirt and pants. His shouts had now devolved into unintelligible growls that only served to make your inner thighs even wetter. By the time you reached the shower, the frosted glass now resembled a spider’s web and you were completely bare.
You hit the override switch to the side of the stall and the screaming stopped. The damaged tracks groaned as the door slowly opened, revealing you to Orm once more. “Take what you need, I only want to help.”
The air was knocked from your lungs as strong arms grabbed you and pulled you into the shower with him. Cold water washed over your naked body though it did nothing to lessen the fire between you. A moan was forced from your lips as Orm ducked down and buried his nose in the crook of your throat, pressing his hard body to your soft one.
His chest rumbled happily as he inhaled. “I will not be gentle, I cannot. But once this curse has passed, I will treat you like a goddess, a queen.” His tongue licked up the column of your neck until he could rise to his full height once more. “You will experience pleasure like never before, my claim will be laid upon you.”
And you could only nod as his large warm hand gripped your knee tightly, bringing your plump leg up to wrap around his lean hips. “Prepare yourself for your king.”
Yesterday I saw Aquaman and the lost kingdom and I fell in love with Orm again so I’m gonna leave this here.
Orm Marius x Reader
Warnings: no proof read, fem!reader, curly!hair!reader, chubby!reader.
Author note: I think I’m gonna start writing more about him, there are barely any fics of him and he deserves them.
Part 2
So i head canon that as an evolution trait under the water, no one in Atlantis has curly hair, because of the friction and all of that.
So imagine the first time Orm goes to the surface after helping Arthur.
He is walking, admiring the view, completely mesmerized when his eyes meets you.
Your hair is the first thing his eyes see, and he is curious about it, he walks towards you like he was in a trance.
He looks at your face and he swears he has never seen someone as beautiful and exotic as you.
He admires your plush thighs and tummy, your body is different from any Atlantean woman, he is used to slim bodies and looking at yours felt like looking at a work of art.
Before he knew it he was in front of you, staring at you shinny eyes.
You look around and then at him.
“E-excuse me, are you okay?” At first you were scared, now that he was close you didn’t feel that he was a threat but still, you felt a bit uncomfortable.
He suddenly comes back to reality and takes a step back.
“I apologize, didn’t want to bother you, just…” he took air, you were talking to him and your voice was more beautiful than any siren song.
“You are beautiful” he breathed out in a whisper.
“Sorry?”
He chuckles awkwardly “It’s just… I’m lost” he finally gets himself together “Im new here and just wanted to ask for your help but… it’s just…” he points at you hair.
Your hand flies there, to see if everything is okay “is there something wrong with my hair?”
“No!” You get startled “it’s… different” you frown in confusion “the form, you know…” he moves his finger in circular motions.
“My curls?” You ask?
“Yes, I’ve never seen that before”
“Really? I mean not everyone has them but…” you stop and chuckle “are you trying to flirt with me or something?”
“Flirt?” He looked like a lost puppy.
You shake your head.
“Never mind” you say “where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere I can buy a greasy cheese burger” he smiles
You chuckle.
“There is a good place in the seafront”
He nods slowly, still staring at you.
You stare back and turn you head a bit to try and make him realize he is staring.
He comes back to reality once more and he closes his eyes a bit ashamed then chuckle.
“I’m sorry… again, I just really like you hair, I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable”
“It’s okay” You laugh, he is very strange but he is polite and he just seems genuinely lost.
“I’ll show you the place”
“That would be great” he smiles.
After five minutes walking you get there, he apologized one more time during the walk and told you he was gonna stay around for a few weeks.
Once you got there you told him to give you his number.
“My… number?”
“Yes, phone number”
“I don’t have that”
“Oh” you look around not knowing what to say.
“You live in the village?” He asks.
“Yes” you smile.
“I’ll see you around then” he says determined.
“See you”
You leave him there and go back to your life.
You thought you would never see him again and it would end like a weird and funny story to tell your friends.
Little did you know that atalantis prince was completely smitten for you.
He was ready to swallow all his pride and ask Arthur for help so he doesn’t seem like a creepy weirdo again.
He knew you were his favorite thing in the surface and he was going to marry you.
