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#king arthur smut
doormatty3 · 4 months
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Ocean Eyes: Chapter 1 (Orm Marius x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Ocean Eyes Masterlink
Summary:
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock
Wordcount: 4134
A/N: This is the first chapter for a (probably) 4-5 chapter fic
Also: Our boy Orm deserves some love so this happened.
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Normally, you actually like water; after all, it’s an integral part of your life as a marine biologist. 
You’ve spent countless hours immersed in the briny depths, studying the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. In the embrace of the watery depths, you’ve unravelled the secrets of hidden ecosystems, marvelled at the kaleidoscope of marine life, and witnessed the symbiotic dance between predator and prey. The ebb and flow of tides, the rhythmic movement of ocean waves – these are the elements that typically elicit admiration and wonder from you. 
However, this affection for water does not extend to rain, especially when it chooses to make an unannounced entrance when you’re out for a walk along the seaside.
As the heavens open up unexpectedly, you find yourself caught off guard, the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops on the sand disrupts the usual symphony of your thoughts. A muttered curse slips through your lips, a reflexive response to the inconvenience of precipitation, and you hastily reach for your umbrella.
The once-clear sky, a former blue sphere, now cloaks itself in shades of grey, as you struggle with the umbrella, desperately attempting to shield yourself from the sudden downpour threatening to soak you through.
“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath when you finally manage to open the umbrella before being drenched. 
As you trudge along the wet sands, your now open umbrella in hand, the lack of shelter becomes painfully apparent. The vast openness of the seaside, which had promised freedom and expansiveness, now offers no refuge from the relentless rain. 
The sea, once a source of inspiration, now seems indifferent to your plight, its waves crashing rhythmically as if mocking the irony of a marine biologist seeking escape from the rain. 
Amidst the relentless downpour, your attention is drawn to a solitary figure at the edge of the beach. Despite the bad weather and the onslaught of rain, the man remains unwavering.
His gaze is steadfastly directed towards the open expanse of the ocean. 
Even from afar you can tell that he’s completely soaked, his blonde hair clings stubbornly to his head, and his clothes adhere to his form like a second skin.
Intrigued by the enigmatic scene, you find yourself pausing in your own battle against the weather, momentarily captivated by the man’s unwavering focus. The rhythmic cadence of the rain seems to fade into the background as you observe the drenched stranger.
Curiosity propels you towards him, each step accompanied by the squelching sound of wet sand beneath your shoes.
Instinctively, you move closer to the man on the edge of the beach, extending the canopy of your umbrella to encompass both of you.
He turns around, surprise evident in his expression, as if awakening from a deep reverie. It becomes clear that your approach went unnoticed, his focus entirely absorbed by the vastness of the open ocean. The sudden shelter you provide seems to bring him back to the present moment.
As your gaze flickers over him, you find yourself inadvertently appreciating the details of his appearance. His smooth skin contrasts with a well-groomed stubble, and his piercing blue eyes hold a hint of depth, perhaps mirroring the expanse of the sea he was lost in moments ago. Expressive eyebrows, a straight nose, and pink lips contribute to an overall attractiveness that stands out even amidst the dampness and the downpour - perhaps the rain even intensified this as your eyes follow the path of a raindrop as it traverses his forehead and nose, eventually dripping from the tip.
Despite the adverse weather, it’s evident that he takes care of himself. The rain reveals the contours of a muscular physique beneath his soaked clothes. A defined chest, broad shoulders, and sculpted arms speak of a physicality that has weathered more than just the current storm.
A quiet “thank you” escapes his lips, accompanied by the subtle curve of a smile that plays on them. As he holds your gaze, his blue eyes reveal more than words convey. There’s an intensity in his look, a depth that suggests the weight of unspoken thoughts resting behind those expressive eyes.
As he breaks the gaze and turns back to the open sea, his presence lingers, all-consuming, and you find yourself unable to simply walk away. Instead, you remain rooted in your spot, holding the umbrella over both of you.
The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves draws your attention, each wave pooling onto the smooth surface of the sand before dispersing like foam. The ocean, in its relentless dance, momentarily recalls its waters, leaving behind a glistening trail of wet sand in its wake.
As you stand there, sheltered under the umbrella, the tableau before you becomes a canvas of contrasts – the vast expanse of the open sea, the ephemeral beauty of the waves, and the tangible presence of the stranger beside you. The sound of raindrops on the umbrella becomes a quiet rhythm, harmonizing with the natural symphony of the seaside.
It really has been ages since you allowed yourself to simply take in the beauty of the ocean and breathe. The thoughts of work, responsibilities, and the hustle of daily life seem to dissolve, rendered insignificant in the face of the vast, timeless expanse of the open sea.
Under the shared umbrella, the ceaseless rhythm of the waves becomes a soothing lullaby, and the salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs with a refreshing breath. The worries and stresses that usually occupy your mind are momentarily eclipsed by the sheer tranquillity of the moment.
With each inhale, you absorb the invigorating sea breeze, and with each exhale, you release any lingering tension. The rain, which was once an inconvenience, now feels like a gentle cleansing, washing away the mental clutter that often accompanies the demands of everyday life.
Normally, your beach walks are just a way to clear your head with familiar surroundings but nothing more than that. So you sift through your thoughts and you ponder the possibility of having seen the man before but his regal demeanour and striking looks leave no trace in your recollections.
Breaking the comfortable silence, you voice your curiosity, “I haven’t seen you here before…” He turns to you, fixing his intense gaze on your face, awaiting your words. “Are you from here?” you inquire.
A subtle smile graces his lips, a fleeting acknowledgement of your question. His hand glides over his chin, tracing the stubble that accentuates his features. Your gaze follows the motion, noting the details - the thickness of his hands, the length of his fingers, and the neatly trimmed nails.
“No,” he begins, and as if sensing your curiosity, he offers a bit more insight, “I’m from far away. I’m… just passing through.”
Despite the cryptic nature of his words, you find yourself captivated by the mysterious charm he exudes. His subtlety and intensity draw you in, leaving you with a desire to unravel the layers behind those enigmatic blue eyes.
“Well then, it’s nice to meet you!” you express with a genuine smile. Taking the initiative, you extend a hand in introduction.
In response to your greeting, he graces you with a full-blown, toothy smile that illuminates his face. His eyes sparkle, reminiscent of sunlight dancing on water, and the skin around his eyes crinkles with the warmth of the expression.
You… want to see that more often, you think. You’d like to be the reason for that infectious smile, to be the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes, and to cast away the haunted look that seems to linger within their depths.
“Happy to make your acquaintance,” he responds, his hand enveloping yours with a firm grasp. As his long fingers curl around yours, a subtle current of electricity prickles at the point of contact, and you find yourself missing his touch when he drops your hand.
“I’m Orm,” he introduces himself.
“Orm,” you test the pronunciation of his name, and you catch the flicker of his eyes as they briefly lower to your lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name,” you remark, your curiosity piqued. 
In response, he shrugs, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his features. “As I said, I am not from here,” he adds.
“If you ever need a tour guide, let me know,” you offer, extending a friendly invitation. His eyebrows raise in response, and you catch a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I know a few nice places… some even provide a better view of the ocean.”
As a gust of wind swirls around you, the dampness of your clothes coupled with the cold air sends a shiver down your spine, and goosebumps emerge on your skin. The sudden chill causes you to freeze, the contrast between the warmth of the moment shared under the umbrella and the elements outside becoming palpable.
In contrast, you observe Orm, still drenched but seemingly unaffected by the cold.
The offer to be his tour guide hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, a subtle fear creeps in. Was it too forward? Does he wish to cut the conversation short, politely concealing any desire to decline?
A sense of relief washes over you as Orm’s response breaks the brief tension. 
“That would be nice,” he says, his eyes straying back to the expanse of the ocean as if lost in thought.
The soft pitter-patter of the rain envelops you both in a cocoon, creating a serene backdrop to the moment. Despite the logical inclination to seek shelter and escape the rain, something within you resists the notion of leaving. A peculiar reluctance binds you to the spot as if an invisible force tethers you to Orm’s calming presence.
Standing beside him, you feel a sense of grounding and tranquillity it’s a sensation that you haven’t experienced before - well, if you’re honest with yourself, you have felt it before. It’s the same feeling you get near or in the ocean.
Maybe it’s his eyes. His deep, blue eyes seem to hold all the mysteries of the sea, mirroring the tranquil rhythm of the rain and the timeless expanse of the ocean.
____
A few days later you see him again and you find yourself back at the same spot.
Today, the weather is vastly different - there’s no rain, and the sun graces the scene with its warm glow.
As you approach the familiar location, the memories of the previous meeting flicker in your mind. You wonder how Orm will look in the bright sunlight - he had already been a vision when completely drenched.
When he comes into view, you find that he’s even more striking than before, 
He is clad in a basic black shirt and matching slacks, the fabric sits snugly on his broad frame, accentuating the contours of his muscular body. The sunlight enhances the contrast, casting a play of shadows that dance along the lines of his thick body.
The blonde hair, now dry and therefore lighter in the sun, is neatly combed back, reflecting the sunlight like strands of golden thread, creating an almost ethereal aura around him.
His gaze is fixed on the sea again. With his head held high and arms folded behind his back, there’s a regal air about him.
“Orm! Hey,” you greet him, genuine warmth in your voice as you approach, happy to see him again. As he turns around to face you, there’s a radiant smile on his lips.
The sunlight adds a gleam to his features as he returns your greeting.
“So, what do you want to see?” you ask Orm, eager to tailor the experience to his preferences. “Have anything in mind?”
He responds with a gracious simplicity, “No, I leave that in your capable hands.”
You can’t help but feel a subtle warmth creeping across your cheeks because he really is rather sweet and charming.
So you clear your throat before speaking, “I promised you some nice places to see the ocean, so let’s do that.”
With a subtle gesture, you signal it’s time to leave, and you start walking with Orm following closely behind. As you set the pace, you observe him adjusting his strides to match yours, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes your heart beat faster. It’s rare that a guy just does that without having to be asked.
He slips his hands into his pockets, seemingly unsure of what to do with them.
“We’re gonna have to drive a bit,” you mention, looking up at Orm, and tugging your lip between your teeth, “Is that fine for you?”
You gesture towards your small blue car and watch Orm’s gaze as his eyes shift from you to the car before nodding slowly, “Sure.”
As you lead the way, Orm walks behind you, and you notice a hesitation in his movements when you reach the car. He doesn’t do anything until you open your door, watching your movements. To you, he looks a bit lost, as if he’s unsure about how to open the door. But you disregard that thought, it is probably just your mind playing tricks.
As you both get into the car, the doors closing with a reassuring thud, you settle into your respective seats.
“If you need more leg space, feel free to adjust the seat,” you offer, considering he is taller than you.
 He meets your gaze with those striking blue eyes before nodding, “Sure, but I’ll be fine.”
Orm’s gaze wanders around your car, and you notice his eyes catching on the seashell chain dangling from the rearview mirror. His hand raises, and his fingers delicately trace over the hard exteriors of the shells. The gesture carries a certain intimacy as if he’s unravelling the stories embedded in each shell.
The image in your mind briefly diverges, envisioning those deliberate touches on your skin with the same care and intensity. You swallow dryly as you try to remember why you’re here - to show him some spots, to be his friend, not to fuck him.
As you start the car, the engine humming to life, you catch what seems like a subtle jump in the corner of your eyes from Orm. However, you dismiss it, attributing it to a trick of the mind or perhaps a momentary startle that often accompanies the sudden sounds of a car coming to life.
“Do you mind fastening your seatbelt?” you ask, your concern for safety evident in the request. Sure, he’s muscular and fit but in case of an accident that won’t help him much sadly.
Orm nods in acknowledgement, and his eyes meet yours as you secure your seatbelt before mirroring the motion.
He is rather strange.
_____
The drive unfolds in a quiet contentment, accompanied by the soft murmur of the radio playing music at a low volume. Orm, for the most part, gazes out of the window, seemingly lost in thought or captivated by the passing scenery. As the sunlight plays on his face, casting gentle shadows, you find yourself fascinated by the play of light, accentuating his features.
At some point you start humming, caught in the melody of a song and even sing quietly along. After a few beats you notice that Orm’s gaze is fixed on you now, an intensive look in his blue eyes as he studies you with a depth that makes you feel vulnerable.
As you become aware of it, a blush creeps across your cheeks. To your surprise, Orm responds with one of those sweet smiles before breaking eye contact and redirecting his attention to the scenery outside the window again.
“We’re here,” you announce to Orm, bringing the car to a stop. The engine’s hum fades as you turn it off, and you both step out.
You brought him to a medium-high cliff site.
The cliff, standing just a few feet above the ocean, is characterised by weathered stones, carved over time by the relentless touch of the water. It’s not a typical beach setting, but the raw beauty of the scene never fails to captivate you.
Below, the waves crash with a rhythmic symphony, their energy echoing against the stone walls in a natural percussion. Each surge sends sprays of seawater into the air, catching the sunlight like a cascade of liquid diamonds before dissipating into the sea breeze.
The sun, hanging high in the sky, bathes the entire scene in a warm, golden glow. It casts its warm embrace upon the waves, creating a dazzling display as the light interplays with the water that reflects the brilliance of the sun. The golden rays catch in the frothy crests of the wave.
A small path, worn by time and exploration, winds its way down the cliffside side presumably leading to a beach down below.
In the stillness of this remote haven, away from the clamour of the city and the watchful eyes of the world, the air carries a purity that is both invigorating and calming. As you close your eyes and inhale deeply, the crisp, clean air fills your lungs, creating a sense of tranquillity that is uniquely serene.
As you stand there a realization dawns upon you - you’ve never brought someone here before. Yet, as you stand there with Orm, the decision to share this sacred place with him feels instinctive, as if his presence harmonizes with the essence of the surroundings.
Deep within your consciousness, a recognition stirs, an understanding that his eyes mirror the tranquil beauty of this place. There’s an unspoken connection between him and the sea, a sentiment that resonates with the rugged cliffs, crashing waves, and untamed nature surrounding you both. It’s as if his very presence is an extension of the landscape - a kindred spirit to the ocean.
“Beautiful,” Orm’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie, prompting you to turn around and face him, finding that his gaze is fixed on you, not on the breathtaking scenery that surrounds you.
“Yeah, I come here to think - I just feel like I can breathe here,” you share, offering a glimpse into the personal significance this place holds for you. 
As you speak, you notice that Orm’s eyes remain glued to your form, not wandering to the sea. His intense gaze seems to linger on you as if captivated by something beyond the natural beauty of the landscape. You feel your heartbeat in your whole body and electricity coursing through your skin.
Orm steps closer his intense blue eyes never leaving yours. With a gentle touch, he lifts a wayward lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face and tucks it behind your ear.
The gesture is tender, a subtle connection that transcends words. The proximity and the soft touch create a moment suspended in time, the crashing waves and the untouched beauty of the surroundings fading into the background. 
Your breath catches in your throat, momentarily you forget to breathe as you feel his warm skin on your face.
You can’t help but notice the vibrant glow in Orm’s eyes. The sunlight catches in the deep blue hues, and they seem to come alive with a vivid intensity. His gaze, vibrant and open, mirrors the brilliance of the sun that bathes the surroundings.
At that moment, his eyes are a reflection of the untamed beauty of the sea, filled with depths and mysteries that seem to echo the vastness of the ocean. 
Orm’s proximity brings with it an enveloping scent that fills the air around you. It’s a fragrance that captures the essence of the sea, a symphony of the breeze, sea salt, and the unmistakable aroma of the beach. 
As you breathe in, the familiar notes of the sea transport you to the shoreline, the rhythmic sounds of the waves echoing in your mind. 
It is as if he’s water itself.
In the silence, with Orm’s hand gently cradling the side of your face, you notice the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. In a moment of courage, you decide to close the distance.
With a small, bold step on your toes, you reach for his lips, closing the gap between you and Orm. The kiss is a gentle meeting, a fusion of shared connection and unspoken emotions. The crashing waves and the sea breeze seem to hold their breath as if nature itself is pausing to witness this intimate exchange beneath the warm glow of the sun.
Orm’s response is immediate and enveloping. Instead of pulling back, he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you even closer against his frame. The kiss deepens a mutual exchange that goes beyond words. The embrace is strong and intimate as if the crashing waves below have found their echo in the connection between you and Orm.
Time seems to slow, and the kiss becomes a shared moment suspended in the tapestry of the cliffside sanctuary. The scent of the sea, the warmth of the sunlight, and the touch of his lips create a harmonious symphony, blending with the timeless rhythm of the waves below. 
You feel Orm’s stubble against your skin. The subtle scratch of his facial hair becomes a grounding force, connecting you to the present moment, reminding you that this is happening.
It is as if your entire being comes alive.
Every touch, every nuance of the kiss, is a vibrant testament to the living, breathing connection between you and Orm. 
Breathless, you break the kiss, and as you look at Orm, he appears positively ravishing. The sea breeze plays with his tousled hair, and the sunlight casts a golden glow upon his features.
His eyes reflect a sense of wonder as if the shared moment was something extraordinary and beyond expectation. And then, with a captivating smile, he pulls back slightly, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, savouring the taste of the kiss.
“That was unexpected,” Orm says, his intense gaze unwavering as he keeps his eyes firmly on you.
“Unwelcome?” you question,  searching for reassurance.
“No, I didn’t say that. It was most welcome,” he assures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a genuine appreciation for the shared moment.
“It’s different from what I thought or expected,” Orm mumbles quietly, his expression turning thoughtful, the words almost lost in the hushed tone.
“What?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice, urging him to repeat himself since you didn’t quite catch what he was saying.
“Oh, nothing,” Orm dismisses with a subtle smile, as if choosing to keep certain thoughts close to himself and not to elaborate further. 
You lose your train of thought as soon as Orm reaches for your hand, giving it a subtle, reassuring squeeze, telling you without words that you shouldn’t worry about it.
Orm gently releases your hand, his attention drawn to the scenic surroundings. Taking a few steps forward, he moves closer to the edge of the cliff, where he peers down at the undulating water below. 
In the soft glow of the sunlight, his features come alive, it paints him with warmth, casting a radiant glow that enhances every detail. The light highlights the slight tousle of his hair as the wind delicately weaves through it.
Orm turns to you again, his eyes reflecting a deep appreciation for the surroundings. “I can understand why you come to this place,” he says, his voice carrying a sincere tone. “It really is something special.“
You nod in agreement and offer a warm smile. “Are you hungry?” you ask because the rumble in your own stomach suggests it’s time for a meal. Orm seems to ponder for a moment, considering the idea, and then he agrees with a subtle nod.
Curiosity piqued, you ask, “What do you feel like eating?”
His response is straightforward. “I’d like a burger with fries and a Guinness.”
A grin spreads across your face as you reply, “I know a spot that serves good burgers. I’m not too sure about the Guinness though - but I’m sure you’ll find something.”
Orm nods in satisfaction and you suggest getting back to the car.
“Lead the way, oh guide of tours,” Orm says, his choice of words eliciting a snort from you at the quirky phrasing.
As you both settle into the car, you take the driver’s seat and start the engine. 
Without many words, Orm carefully places a hand on your thigh. 
Initially, it’s just the featherlight touch of his fingertips, but when he senses your ease, he gently lays his hand down, spreading his fingers to cover as much space as possible.
The warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric of your jeans, a searing heat that radiates from your leg, enveloping your entire body. Turning your head towards him, you find his gaze fixed on you and in response, you offer a warm smile.
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g-xix · 9 months
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~𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙~
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[Sidemen Masterlist]
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Arthur Curry Masterlist
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Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate
Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)
MAIN MASTERLIST
Fluff🌺  Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥
5/7 STORIES
5 Phrases That Arthur Tells You🌺
MY HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:
Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.
Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown
Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection
Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love
Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it
When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.
Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business
Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!
One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit
No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.
DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠
First Timers 🌺
Recruit From A Cave 🌺(platonic!reader) requested by: @biganddrunkunicorn imagine Arthur Curry recruiting you - a half-dragon person, with bat wings and hands/legs with scales and claws - to join the Justice League. And y/n is really scared of him because of all the water stuff and his appearance, but he convinces her to leave her cave and all. Pure fluff and platonic, the world needs more platonic imagines and hc
Fluff Alphabet 🌺
Mornings With Arthur🌺
Her Death Is Your Mistake 🌩️Orm captures Y/n turning Arthur’s promises futile
Going On A Date🌺
Dating Aquaman🌺
MULTI-PART STORIES
Imagine (1 OF 3)🌩️🌺
Imagine (PART 2 OF 3)🌩️🌺
Imagine (PART 3 OF 3) VER.1🌺
Imagine (PART 3 OF 3) VER. 2🌩️
PICTURE IMAGINES
Arthur Introducing The New Queen Of Atlantis, You🌺
Arthur Teaching You Hakka🌺
Arthur Taking You To Atlantis, Making You The First Human To See It🌺
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quack-quack-snacks · 1 year
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Chaos’s Queen
My Navigation and Masterlist
Pairing(s): Chaos!Arthur Pendragon x Fem!Reader Summary: Arthur shows you what you've been missing out on as Queen. Warnings: Smut, consensual sex (CONSENT IS SEXY KIDS), oral (r! receiving), cunnilingus, throne sex, major overstimulation, fingering, Arthur using his chaos power for sexual uses, body worship (maybe?), praise kink, slightly degrading terms (but no name calling such as slut, whore, etc - I will cry), pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart, darling, my queen, your highness), slight choking kink, throne kink, crown kink, lots of eye contact, no use of (y/n). Word Count: 3,630 Extra Notes: Arthur is in his 30s in this fic, just like he was when he had the chaos power and is the King
HISS HISS PEOPLE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION.
Your eyes looked back and forth between your lover's and the doors of the throne room you stood outside of. Arthur had a sweet smile on his face as he led you through the doors and into the room. It was empty inside, safe for a few servants cleaning and polishing the throne, the gold shining and sparkling with the final rays of the setting sun shining through the room’s windows.
“You’re all dismissed.” He said in a cold tone even though his eyes and smile remained locked on you. “Except you.” His sweet smile transitioned into a smirk and a shiver ran down your spine.
You knew that look.
As the last servant left the room, the throne doors slammed shut by an invisible source and the room’s windows were covered by curtains that were not there a moment before.
Oh god.
You were really in for it.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you come here.” He gently took your hand in his large hands, calloused from years of sword-holding and battle training but soft in their touch for you. Leading you to his throne, he motioned for your to sit. You hesitated, confused, and opened your mouth to speak when his hand reached out and his thumb ran over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly and trapping your words in your throat. “Just sit,” His thumb left your lips only to be replaced by a slow kiss from his own. “Tonight,” He started speaking, mumbling against your lips. “Tonight you’re the one getting worshipped.” He gently moved you as he kissed you again until your knees backed up against the edge of the throne and pushed you back, making you lose your balance and fall onto it. He smirked, looking down at your slightly disheveled state, flushed cheeks, and the edge of your thinly strapped dress falling off your shoulder, revealing your neck and collarbones to the king’s eyes. Both his hands fell to the armrests to support himself as he leaned down and trailed his nose up from the slight bit of cleavage your dress showed and over your collarbone, stopping momentarily every second to leave teasing kisses along his path that left you breathy and panting, up to right below your ear.
“I’ve had an idea for a while now that I’ve been just dying to try,” He whispered hotly into the skin where your jaw met your neck. “I’ve just been waiting,” he nipped at your skin, “and waiting,” and again, “and waiting,” he growled out before lightly biting down into the crease of your shoulder and neck. You released a low moan at the unexpected act. You felt his lips move into a smirk before his tongue dipped out and he smoothed it over the bitten skin as he released a low moan of his own.
He backed up suddenly and you almost let out a yelp at how you fell forward to chase after his touch. His eyes lit up to see how desperate you were slowly becoming for him.
Taking a moment to take in your appearance once more, he let out a hum of satisfaction before smirking and staring directly into your eyes as he knelt to one knee, and then to the other until he was kneeling before you. His arms rested on the small space beside your thighs the throne gave him, his thumbs just barely grazing along the silk and mesh fabric of your golden and white dress as he leaned in and pressed his face into your stomach. Grazing his nose up and down, going further down each time, reaching closer to where you needed him most. His hands moved from the throne to down where your dress ended at your calves and started lifting it slightly which made your breath hitch.
“You always look so damn good in these dresses, dressed like a queen and looking like one too,” He practically moaned out as his nose hovered right above your arousal and he took a deep breath in. You whimpered at the praise. “It’s about damn time you got treated like one too.”
“Arthur,” you breathed out so softly you were even sure if he heard you but when he tilted his head up to look you in the eyes with a teasing smirk you knew he had. “Arthur, please don’t tease me,” you begged, your voice only a fraction louder than your first call of his name.
“But you sound so sweet when I tease you, your little breathy moans like sweet music to my ears every single time,” He suddenly stuck his nose right up against your clit through your thin dress fabric and a surprised gasp left your parted lips.
As you continued to whimper and plead while he continued to tease you, he finally had some mercy on you and brought the lining of your dress up to your thighs. Looking up at you in a moment of softness, he looked into your eyes with a concerned and questioning look, silently asking for your consent. You gave him a small smile and nodded before leaning down slightly to give him a slow, light kiss. Just as you were about to lift your hips to help him take your dress off, there was a gust of wind, forcing you to close your eyes. When you opened them your dress was nowhere to be seen. Your body was left bare except for your matching set of bra and panties.
You shivered as your bare skin touched the cool surface of the golden throne, but the light touches from calloused fingers warmed your body instantly. He slowly trailed his fingers up your legs, touch so light it felt feathery. Starting at your calves, his fingers danced higher and higher, drawing light circles every once in a while. Reaching your thighs, the touch started to get heavier. Rougher.
He started kneading your outer thighs, still refusing to touch anywhere that would give you the stimulation you needed. His kisses traveled down from the crevice of your neck to the valley between your breasts, leaving bite marks and kiss stains littered across your skin.
Finally. Finally. His kisses stopped and his breath hovered over the, now damp with your arousal, fabric of your panties.
With no warning, he shoved his face into your dripping cunt and started licking at you through the fabric ever so slowly, still wanting to tease you until you got so desperate you started begging with everything you had.
"Arthur, please!" You whined as he pulled his mouth away and blew cold air on your drenched undergarment.
He smirked.
Pulling your panties down past your ankles and across the room with your dress, he shoved his mouth into you again. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked roughly sending an intense wave of euphoria throughout your entire body. Your back arched and you moaned loudly. Your hands reached out to grab onto his hair before they were grabbed by cold gold hands and restrained against the armrests of the throne chair.
He tsked and smirked as his chaos power activated, "No, no, sweetheart, just relax. Today is all about you," He spoke directly against your clit, the vibrations of his words sending jolts through your bones and tingles to the back of your head. "You've been working so hard recently," He licked at your clit between his words, continuing to give you pleasure while praising you. "Training with the new guards," another lick, "Helping me calm down whenever I get too stressed or angry," and another, "Sitting with me through those boring meetings that make me want to rip my hair out," His lingering frustration over his duties as a king slipped out through his actions. His tongue got rougher, his lips wrapped around your clit sucked harder, and his fingers that were holding your thighs apart for his assault on your sex gripped stronger.
He brought you to your first orgasm like that.
Your moans echoed throughout the room as he continued his movements to ride you through your high. As your body slowly relaxed into the golden frame of the throne once more, his tongue continued to lap up the remnants of your orgasm. Being overly sensitive from the said orgasm that happened barely moments ago, you squirmed against his strong grip.
"Arthur, ah, Arthur please, agh, it-it's too much," you moaned out as your lover's tongue continued to bring you to heaven and back.
“Gods, you taste just as good as I remember, so sweet. It's alright pretty girl just sit back and let me do all the work. You deserve every ounce of pleasure I give you," He ignored your pleas and activated his chaos power again to grab hold of your thighs for him and hold them apart to keep your struggling against his tongue to a minimum. Your legs shook as his fingers slowly glided up their way to your inner thighs and caressed the treasure in between. His tongue came off of your clit with a wet popping sound and you moaned - whether in relief or desperation, the answer was unknown - only to be replaced by his thumb a moment later.
You cried out and your head fell back against the gold as you looked down at the man between your thighs only to see him staring straight into your own with an intense look. You blushed and attempted to look away only for another hand to appear from behind your head and force you to look into Arthur's eyes. His purple ones twinkled with mischief and lust while yours shined with embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure.
His middle finger glided back and forth over your folds, reveling in how wet you were before slipping it in without any resistance. You gasped and your mouth was left open in a silent moan as the pads of his finger pressed right against the spot inside you that sent you into the clouds. Without taking his finger out, he allowed it to just sit inside you and rub against the spot over and over again. His eyes never left your face as your mouth released sounds of pleasure, your eyes closed, your head rested against the back of the throne once more as the hand holding your head up released you. He admired every feature of your face as it contorted in pleasure and felt a warm sense of pride flow through him straight to the tent beneath his golden armor pants.
"Does that feel good, your highness? Does my finger feel good as it brings you to bliss? Do you feel powerful? Having the former King of Camelot, the King of Chaos kneeling before you, dedicating his every moment to you and your pleasure? You lucky girl. Anyone, man and woman, would kill to be in your place. And yet here you are. Sitting on my throne while I devour you. Over, and over, and over again." He kissed your stomach as he spoke, his lips whispering over the skin and causing your muscles to contract in anticipation. Your breaths were heavy as you looked down at the King below you, ready to serve your every need and give you everything you want and more.
Your legs shook as his finger started entering and exiting you slowly. In and out, in and out. Again and again. He continued that while his thumb drew tight figure eights on your clit.
His face lowered and he roughly and suddenly drew a harsh bite at your thigh. You gasped, a loud, surprised, aroused sound, as you felt both pain and pleasure from the act. He brought his lips down onto your clit again, licking a painfully slow lick from the small part of your entrance not occupied by his finger to the skin above your clit. 
“You’re so pretty, such a hard worker. Ruling over my kingdom with so much grace and elegance. You’re starting to make me look bad with how good you’re doing. And looking so delicious while you do.” You keeled against the seat as you heard him continue with the praise, whimpering when he said you were doing well. 
“My perfect queen. I think I’m the lucky one. Getting to have your precious, sweet, delicious cunt all for myself. Oh, and look how wet you are all because of me. You are absolutely divine.”
You clenched around his finger as he continued to shower you with compliments and praise. He smirked into your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing by the words he spoke. The way your face flushed, your walls clenched, your eyes closed, and your hands gripping into your palms gripped harder was a dead giveaway. 
“My pretty queen, you’re just too perfect. Pretty cunt tastes so sweet, I simply can’t get enough of you.” He groaned as your thighs tried to squeeze against the iron-tight grip of the stone hands and around his head. 
“Flawless.”
White, hot, searing pleasure overcame your body. The orgasm that had been approaching went completely ignored as all you could focus on was the praise coming out of your lover’s mouth as he hand-delivered more ecstasy than you could take on a silver platter. You shivered as the bliss ran through your blood and settled in your bones with a distant buzz. 
He watched you shiver as he slowed the pace of his fingers so they barely felt like they were moving. Pressing a light kiss to your clit, he let out a low chuckled against the bud when you jolted. 
“Arthur! Ah, please Arthur, ah, please. I can’t take anymore, it’s too much, ah, please.” He laughed as you begged and pleaded with all your being. Wrapping his entire mouth around your mound, he gave a large, wet, suck, and watched in amusement as you cried out that it was too much, as you pleaded for a break.
“But you deserve it, all your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed. Not by me nor by anyone around us. I’m just trying to give you a proper thank you. You do so much for me, the least I can do is please you. You’ll be good for me, won’t you? I only want to please you, darling. Just be good for me, I’ll make you feel so good. Won’t you be my good girl?” His mouth lifted off of you to look up at you, his expression like that of a kicked puppy. His look made you give in, and in your hazy state, you failed to see the twinkle of sadistic lust in his eyes, reveling in the way you shook and cried out at each stroke, each pump, each action he did. So little movement was needed at this point for you to feel unbelievably high on the tight pleasure that circled around in your gut, the feeling intensing with each touch. 
Your eyes had closed and your head fell back against the gold, your breathing uneven and heavy as you tried to focus on what he said. A sharp bit to the crevice of your thigh and hip made you yelp and look back at the king between your thighs. Purple eyes narrowed in command despite the sugary sweet, soft smile he sent you, a slight display of dominance that most wouldn’t see. “My darling,” he spoke with a tinge of demand hidden deep within the softness of his tone. “When I ask a question of you, I expect an answer. You want to be good for me right? You want to be my good girl?” A second finger slid past your folds into your entrance unexpectedly. He gave a quick hard thrust before stilling completely, waiting for your answer. 
“Yes! Yes I’ll be your good girl, I’ll be so good just… just please, oh gods, please.” You begged as he started moving his fingers inside of you, faster with each second that passed until all you could feel was euphoria, the utter state of elation as the coil in your core built up for the third time of the night. 
Arthur could tell you were getting close again by how much your walls were squeezing his fingers, making it more difficult to move. “Squeezing my fingers so tight, are you close my love?” 
“Ah, yes, yes so close,” Your moans came in higher pitches and more frequent as your release drew nearer. 
“Then cum. Cum for me your highness. Make a mess on my fingers and tongue. Spill your arousal on my throne. Every time I sit on this chair I’ll remember how I brought you to your release until you screamed my name,” His lips wrapped around your clitoris again as he locked eyes with you. “And that is exactly what I intend to do.” 
Your eyes widened before shutting tightly and your mouth fell open in a loud moan as both his tongue and fingers sped up, finding your g-spot on each thrust and making your body burst with euphoria once more. 
He rode you through your third orgasm before abruptly pulling away and your eyes snapped open at the shocking movement. Your breathing slowly started to calm down as you looked at him. He stood in front of you. Staring down at you with an almost anomalistically hungry look. He raised his eyes from where they racked over your body to stare into your eyes. Slowly bringing the hand he used to finger you to his lips, he sucked on his fingers and licked the evidence of your lust off, his eyes never leaving yours. The throbbing around your entrance had just stopped until he smirked and said, “You look ravishing, my dear.” 
A heartbeat after he spoke, his chaos power was activated again and the hands restricting your hands let go slowly, only for your bra to come flying off and your hands being locked above your head. A loud gasp escaped your lips before another one interrupted it as your thighs were quickly moved back and your feet landed on the edge of the throne, your pussy being put on full display for the King of Chaos as he continued to smirk. He slowly, agonizingly slowly, walked towards you and leaned towards you, his hands gripping the top of the throne to keep his balance. He brushed his lips against yours before a weight was placed on your head. He placed a light kiss on your lips before leaning back and taking another moment to admire you. 
“You look radiant with my crown resting on your head, your highness.” He sunk to his knees again and your cunt clenched around nothing. 
This, he noticed.
His tongue licked a long stripe across your folds before swirling around your clit for a moment. As soon as you started to think he was going to bring you to another orgasm through clitoral stimulation only, he stuck his tongue right into your hole. You let out a mix between a yelp and a moan and felt him reach parts deeper than even his fingers had. Your head was too muddled with the feelings he was giving you to realize he was using his chaos magic on his tongue. Even if you had realized, you would have just been more aroused by the fact. With the constant feeling of his tongue against the spongey spot inside of you and his nose brushing against your clit with every thrust, your release didn’t take long to arrive. The crown shaking around on your head almost fell off with how much your body was shaking. Just as your high came down, your legs were brought over Arthur’s shoulders, the cold stone hands no longer restricting them. Your thighs squeezed around his head as he buried his face into your cunt with vigorous sucks and licks, anything to bring you to another exhilarating release. 
“Come on, darling. You can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more. Give it to me. Give me just. One. More.” His voice was rough as he spoke into you, vibrations sending you to cloud nine as you reached your final orgasm of the night. 
Giving a few slow laps at your entrance, feeling you twitch and hearing you whine and whimper at each one, he lifted his head from you. Your legs fell limply from his shoulders and the hands restricting your wrists released you. 
Looking down at him, his eyes held nothing but admiration and care as he looked back at you. You gently, with a bit of struggle while still being in a post-orgasm haze, lifted your palm to wrap it around his cheek. You rubbed your thumb along his chin, whipping what had collected there onto your thumb before tapping Arthur’s bottom lip. His eyes widened in surprise and a tinge of returning lust as he opened his mouth for your thumb to slip past. He licked and sucked at the finger as you admired him. 
When you slipped your thumb from his lips, they turned up into a soft smile as he reached forward and wrapped you up in his arms. Wrapping a cape around you, he lifted you and walked through the castle up to your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. Wetting a towel, he dragged the cloth across your body, wiping off the sweat that had accumulated throughout the night before leading the cloth to your, still-sensitive, entrance and cleaning it. He shushed you as you whimpered. Once he finished, he wrapped you in your softest nightgown and laid you down in bed, pulling you close as you lay with your back pressed against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your neck. 
And they all lived happily ever fucking after.
The end mfer
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drconstellation · 4 months
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Monkey Business with Furfur
This is a 2024 Smut War meta
(NSFW? I tried to keep it reasonably clean, just filled with innuendo.)
Time to dig up some dirty dirt from before the Fall.
Memory problems? Oh, Hell no! There was no way Crowley was going admit to remembering this bit of history between him and Furfur, especially not in front of Aziraphale.
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On the surface this incident with Furfur in the dressing room at the Windmill Theater adds weight to the appearance that Crowley has holes in his memory, just like Gabriel does during S2. But a closer look at the language being used during the post-magic show scene actually reveals quite the opposite - something that is - well, I shouldn't say totally unexpected because I've written about it tangentially before - but something that I think will shake up the way we view things between the three of them.
Firstly, lets review what I call the sub-story theme running underneath this section of the episode: King Arthur and Camelot. I talked about it length in my meta Once and Future Royalty. Here's the important paragraphs from that work for this particular meta:
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Yes, poor old Furfur. Two's company, three's a crowd, as they say. Now we know we're in Camelot, we need to be reminded of the central tragedy of the Arthurian story, that ultimately led to the golden kingdom's fall. Lady Guinevere, Arthur's queen, famously loved Sir Lancelot, and the two were passionate lovers. It was essentially a love-triangle at the top, with Arthur being jilted, but he wouldn't/couldn't discard his queen. Where do we see this playing out in 1941? Furfur, pleased with himself for catching an angel and a demon in the act of consorting together (with the help of the zombies,) barges into the backstage dressing room, and confronts the lovers with their crime. But who is playing who in the Arthurian love triangle? I would say Furfur is clearly caught in the role of Arthur here. Consider the following exchange:
[See GIFs at top - I will quote relevant script shortly in detail]
Furfur claims a past intimate relationship with Crowley, which Crowley spurns offhandedly. Crowley is playing Guinevere here, jilting Furfur/Arthur, which leaves the demon-smiting Aziraphale standing in for the handsome hero Lancelot (with his French connections, no less), and doesn't he make us weak at the knees when he drops his voice an octave in dominating disgust. (Is it suddenly getting hot in here...?Phew!)
Recently someone posted more images of Furfur's costume, and the sash was shown reversed, where a red crown can clearly be seen under the stag's head, which to me just adds weight to the Furfur=Arthur role.
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Next we need to take another look at this line from Furfur:
FURFUR: I was right next to you. We did loads together. You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat.
Everyone took this too literally.
Really.
I mean really really.
There are two things - ok, three things - this set of lines tells us.
The first is the most obvious and likely the surface impression - maybe Crowley did turn himself into a monkey. But this is a misdirection to the real information here, so forget that. Put it to one side for the moment, at least.
Secondly, Furfur had a "monkey on his back."
We see by this turn of phrase that he was burdened by a problem, or something he couldn't let go of, and in this situation it clearly looks like a long held bitter feeling towards Crowley and his apparent freedom on Earth.
CROWLEY: Oh, we shan't, this is ridiculous. [leans back and puts hat over his face] FURFUR: No, what's ridiculous is demons like you doing what they please. And somehow still getting on, while demons like me graft for hundreds and hundreds of millennia and never get a sniff of a promotion! Well, not this time. Expect a Legion to come for you first thing tomorrow. Enjoy your last night on Earth.
Thirdly, the whole thing indicates there is a past history of "monkey business" between Furfur and Crowley, before the Fall. This is further emphasized by Furfur's greeting on arrival:
FURFUR: Hmm, well, well, well... What have we here? AZIRAPHALE: Sorry, have we met? FURFUR: Oh, no, you never had the pleasure, but... we have, haven't we? CROWLEY: Have we?
Ohhhh, Crowley. o_0 No, no, no, no, nooooooo..........
Can you see it? Can you see why he would deny knowing Furfur? That they did "loads together?"
Do you know what "monkey business" is an alternative phrase for?
Remember the Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot love triangle?
Do you think Crowley is going to admit this in front of his angel?
Uh huh.
Really. Really really.
An "unreliable narrator" indeed.
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hanasnx · 1 year
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“may the force be with you”
me lookin at anakin: god may the force be in me bro
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lxstfathier · 6 months
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pym scenario time: he seems like the type of guy who’d ask you to get yourself off in front of him while he watches. he doesn’t touch you or even himself-he just watches, face unreadable. and when you’re done he calls you a whore and tells you to get out. most other people would feel used and insulted, but you know that’s just his way. whether he really loves you (or anyone) you aren’t sure, but something about arthur pym just keeps you coming back
AAAAAAA *screaming but without the s*
Ok ok, let’s elaborate a little bit… Arthur loves you, or at least he has some kind of attachment to you, but he’s cold and doesn’t like showing a lot of affection or praise.
Now, with that being said, he would be the type of man to do exactly that! specially if you are being kinda annoying, feeling extra needy and messing around his office, accidentally distracting him while he’s working on something important (well not so accidental tho) and that’s when he snaps, turning even more mean that he usually is, telling you to take off your clothes and rub your clit while he just watches :(
And when you finally reach your orgasm, completely blissed out of your mind, he walks up to you, taking your discarded clothes to throw them at you and then give you a stern look with those crystal blue eyes.
“Such a dumb fucking whore, can’t even go a day without my attention… now dress yourself and get out of my office before i shove my cock down your throat and make you choke on it.”
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wayward-persephone · 1 year
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Talking to my lovely friend @purplelupins about this dream I had about being forced to do porn because ✨Money Issues✨ and my costar was Goodnight Robicheaux in all his cowboy glory 🥴
And now I can't stop thinking about all of Ethan Hawke's characters in their respective "roles" as porn actors and you as the new actress getting fucked until you cry 😌
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doormatty3 · 4 months
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Ocean Eyes: Chapter 2 (Orm Marius x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Ocean Eyes Masterlink
Summary:
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue.
OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock
Wordcount: 5412
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The car ride is short and comfortable, the rhythmic hum of the engine accompanying the shared silence between you and Orm.
As the landscape glides past, Orm’s gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, lost in contemplation. His hand rests firmly on your thigh, and his fingertips trace seemingly random patterns.
Arriving at the burger place near the ocean, you find yourself on a charming pier that extends gracefully over the water. It exudes a quaint and cosy charm, offering both indoor and outdoor seating. You have been here before and hope that Orm will also like it.
You leave the car and notice the bustling atmosphere, a lively mix of people enjoying the seaside ambience. Families, friends, and couples populate the area, creating a vibrant tapestry of seaside enjoyment.
As you lead Orm towards the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you can’t help but notice his gaze wandering, taking in the atmosphere. His eyes seem to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells, curious as if he’s never seen something like that.
A subtle feeling creeps in - that Orm appears somewhat out of place again. There’s something about him, a quality that sets him apart and makes him seem almost otherworldly. You find yourself unable to put your finger on precisely what it is. Still, it lingers in the periphery of your awareness like a gentle whisper of intrigue that tugs at your curiosity.
Perhaps it’s his regal demeanour or how he seems to observe the world with a depth that transcends the ordinary. You scold yourself inwardly to stop thinking about that - it’s probably nothing, only the quirks of a person adapting to unfamiliar surroundings. 
As you reach the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you turn to Orm and ask, “Would you like to sit inside or outside?”
There’s a momentary pause, and he seems to grapple with the options as if the distinction between the two is a puzzle he’s attempting to solve for the first time.
Orm stammers slightly before responding, “Uh, outside, if that’s... if that’s fine with you.” His words carry a hint of uncertainty, as though he’s seeking your approval or guidance in navigating this seemingly simple choice.
“Sure. I like to sit at the water more anyway,” you smile at Orm and then turn to the waitress, “Table for two, please, outside if possible.”
The waitress nods, responding, “Yes, please follow me.”
She leads you through the lively pier and sits you at a charming table by the seaside, offering a nice view of the ocean that stretches before you.
As you and Orm settle into your seats, the waitress hands you the menu. With a polite smile, she inquires, “Any allergies?” 
You shake your head in response and notice Orm appearing momentarily puzzled, as if the question threw him off again. Eventually, he follows suit and shakes his head.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Or do you already know what you want to drink?” the waitress asks, her friendly demeanour adding a pleasant touch to the dining experience.
“I’ll go with a coke,” you tell her with a smile. She nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Orm.
“Do you have Guinness?” he asks, his words flowing more fluently this time as if finding comfort in the familiarity of the beverage.
“Yes, sir, we do,” the waitress responds.
“Great, then I’ll take that,” Orm says with a decisive nod.
The waitress acknowledges the order with a nod of her own and then gracefully walks away, leaving you and Orm to view the menu.
You already know what you will be eating: a classic cheeseburger with extra bacon and hand-cut fries, So you cast your gaze to look at the sea, zoning out for a bit and losing yourself in the rhythmic movement of the water.
Orm’s voice interrupts your brief reverie, bringing you back to the present. “So, what’s your fascination with the ocean?” he inquires, his eyes fixed on you with genuine curiosity.
“Hm?” is your thoughtful response, a momentary delay as you process his question and look at him before answering, “I am a marine biologist - so it’s just everything for me.” 
You cast your gaze at the sea again, watching the waves as you continue to speak, “For as long as I can remember, I have had a strong love and appreciation for the ocean - of the life beneath the surface, the ecosystem, the marine creatures.” 
The sea breeze tousles your hair as you express your love for the sea.
“I think most of my fascination is with the unknown and the many misconceptions people have about the ocean and its inhabitants.” The reflection of the sunlight on the water mirrors the spark in your eyes and you pause for a short moment before continuing, “That they think some animals are just inherently evil. But we - as humans- could learn so much from the ocean if we would just listen .” 
You scoff, a touch of frustration colours your voice as you continue, “But they don’t and continue to pollute the waters - kill the life beneath the surface. Destroy ecosystems.” 
Your eyes find Orm’s again; he watches you intently, a glint in his eye that you haven’t seen before. 
”That’s why I do what I do - to help them see. To help preserve life. There is so much that could be done, but many people don’t know how - and it’s my job to educate them.”
“That’s a noble profession, an honourable calling,” Orm remarks, his blue eyes warm and calm like the ocean void of wind, “But don’t you think it is in vain? Do you really think they can learn?” 
“Yes,” your response is immediate and resolute, “No one is inherently evil. But a lot of people lack a sense of direction… And once shown, they adapt and do what they can to better themselves.”
You share a smile with Orm, sensing that he just understands what you mean.
The moment, however, is gently interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, gracefully bearing your drinks.
“Coca-Cola?” she asks, and you raise your hand, replying, “For me.”
She places the drinks in front of you before she speaks again, pen poised over her notepad, “What do you want to eat?”
“A cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries,” you declare, and Orm promptly seconds your choice. The waitress, a warm smile gracing her lips, takes note of your order and retreats.
Orm, with a thoughtful expression, breaks the silence. “You truly believe people can change, then?”
You meet his gaze, the sea breeze playing with your hair. “Absolutely,” you respond. “It’s not about convincing everyone at once. It’s about starting a ripple, making a difference where you can. Education and understanding can be powerful catalysts for change.”
Orm nods, his blue eyes reflecting both curiosity and agreement. “It sounds like you’re on a mission.”
A chuckle escapes you. “Perhaps. But it’s a mission worth undertaking, don’t you think?”
“Oh, definitely,” Orm answers, a smile on his lips as he looks at you intensely, making you blush. He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “What led you to this path?” he asks, his curiosity evident.
You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the question. “I suppose it was a childhood fascination with the sea. The mysteries it holds, the life beneath its surface. As I grew older, I realised the urgency of preserving that beauty, of correcting the misconceptions that threaten it.”
Orm listens attentively, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “It takes a special kind of dedication to devote your life to something so vast and, at times, misunderstood.”
“The ocean has a way of making you feel both small and connected. It’s a journey of discovery, and every day brings something new,” you tell him, a wistful smile gracing your lips. 
You continue to talk, the sun beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over your conversation. The rays seem to elevate Orm’s features, and you can’t help but notice the way his straight nose and defined cheekbones are beautifully illuminated. His blonde hair, still sitting a bit tousled on his head, catches the sunlight and shines in the golden hues. 
His blue eyes look impossibly deep in the light; it feels as if the vastness of the ocean is mirrored in his gaze, and you find yourself captivated by the shifting shades within his irises. You feel like if you concentrate enough, you could watch the sunset in them, and they would mirror the exact way the water looks right now – a harmonious blend of oranges, pinks, violets, and cerulean blues.
The waitress arrives with your much-anticipated meals, placing them on the table. Both of you express gratitude with a simultaneous “Thank you.” 
You pick up your burger, the warmth radiating from it, and take a satisfying bite. As you savour the taste, you glance over at Orm, curious to see his reaction - if he likes the place you have chosen.
Orm approaches his meal with a hint of anticipation, taking a tentative bite from his burger. Watching him eat is mesmerising - he chews slowly and deliberately as he processes the combination of flavours. A drop of sauce finds its way to the corner of his lip, and with an unconscious grace, he catches it with his tongue.
You observe him nodding appreciatively, his brows lifting slightly in a silent gesture of approval. It’s as if he has just discovered a hidden treasure, and the delightful taste seems to resonate with him. Watching him eat makes you feel like he never had a burger because he looks so genuinely fascinated by it. 
He is rather cute right now, and you like how he can be so regal and serious but also so sweet and goofy.
Choosing to shift your focus, you return to your own meal, eating a few fries.
In the corner of your eye, you notice a cockroach making its way across the table. Just as you prepare to intervene, your gaze shifts to Orm, who, in a swift and unexpected move, catches the intruder in his large hand, examining it with a curious expression.
A moment of concern sets in as Orm flexes his fingers, bringing the roach closer to his burger. You fear this might lead to a deadly consequence for the uninvited guest, that Orm may crush it. 
Acting on impulse, you speak up, “Don’t kill it.”
Orm looks at you with a puzzled expression and stills in his motion with the roach still cradled in his hand. You take the opportunity to pluck the roach from his fingers gently. Bowing down, you release it onto the ground, allowing it to run away freely.
You find Orm still looking at you with curious eyes and feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks, you mumble, “I don’t like to kill insects, even if they’re annoying.”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Respecting all forms of life, even the tiny ones. That’s commendable.”
“Yes, I mean, some of them at least have a use to the ecosystem, and some you can even eat. Both don’t apply to cockroaches though, sadly,” you elaborate under his intensive gaze.
Orm blinks a few times as if processing your words, and then he inquires, “I heard that cockroaches are something that is eaten.”
You shake your head, offering a slight grin, “Nah. Crickets and stuff, yes, but not cockroaches since they are known to carry and spread diseases.” 
He gives you a tight-lipped grin, the expression not quite reaching his eyes as he takes another bite from his burger.
“Did I say something wrong?” you ask him, a hint of concern in your voice - his reaction worries you.
His response is immediate as he lays down the burger and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “No. No. Not at all.” His blue eyes reflect sincerity and openness. “I was just caught off guard since I thought differently. But everything is fine.”
You smile, relieved by his reassurance, squeezing his hand slightly. “Thank you, Orm.” 
As you both finish your meals in comfortable silence, the lighting on the pier gradually comes to life, and they begin to flicker one after another, creating a gentle, welcoming ambience.
It casts a subtle radiance on Orm’s features, the regal quality becoming more pronounced as the gentle play of shadows enhances the lines of his face.
Orm’s gaze wanders, absorbing the evolving spectacle of lights around the pier. His eyes, reflecting the warm glow, sweep across the surroundings, capturing the flickering bulbs, the gentle sway of boats, and the distant outlines of structures bathed in the soft radiance of the evening.
A subtle appreciation plays on his features as he takes in the scene, and you find yourself captivated by the way his eyes navigate the transformed pier. 
The waitress returns to your table, a friendly smile on her face as she collects the empty plates. She glances at both of you. “Is there anything else you’d like?”
Your eyes meet Orm’s briefly, and then you turn back to the waitress, “No, thank you. Just the bill, please.”
With a nod, the waitress acknowledges your request, “Alright, I’ll bring that right over.” She takes the empty plates and heads back toward the bustling interior of the restaurant.
The waitress returns with the bill, a small leather folder clasped in her hand. Opening it to reveal the receipt, she glances between you and Orm, asking, “Will you be paying together, or should I split it?”
Before you can respond, Orm steps in, a subtle determination in his voice, “I’ll take care of it.” 
You shoot him a grateful look but quickly add, “Orm, you really don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he insists, his eyes, intense and unwavering, meet yours.
A warmth settles in your chest at his insistence, and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks in response to his intensity.
The waitress informs him of the total cost, and Orm reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. The currency appears unfamiliar - distinctive, with intricate patterns and unique markings, causing both you and the waitress to exchange curious glances.
Breaking the momentary silence, the waitress gently informs Orm, “Sorry, we only accept dollars here, not foreign currency.”
An almost imperceptible furrow forms on Orm’s brow as he looks down at the money in his hand, and a moment of realisation dawns upon him. You can almost sense his internal struggle, caught between the unfamiliarity of the situation and the desire to settle the bill.
Without saying anything or making a huge deal, you smoothly reach into your wallet, pulling out enough dollars to cover the bill and a generous tip. With a friendly smile, you hand the money to the waitress.
“Have a good evening,” you add warmly, and the waitress reciprocates the sentiment. As she departs, you turn your attention back to Orm, offering an encouraging smile.
Orm’s eyes meet yours, appreciative yet carrying a hint of vulnerability. 
“I’m sorry,” Orm says, a tinge of frustration and embarrassment evident in his voice. “I forgot about that.”
You respond with a reassuring smile, and without a second thought, you reach out, brushing your hand gently over his cheek. When you see the way his eyes widen a bit and he looks at you in wonder, you know that it was the right call.
“Oh, don’t worry, I get it,” you assure him, your fingers tracing the contours of his cheek, noting the texture of his stubble beneath your touch and the warmth he emanates. “You can get the next one,” you suggest, pulling back your hand.
Orm responds with a toothy smile, genuine and warm, the expression reaching all the way to his eyes. 
You both get up and leave the restaurant to stroll along the pier, your hand brushing on Orms as you walk. Part of you would like to just take his hand - you have kissed, after all, but you’re not sure if that’s fine for him.
“So, by being from far away, you meant Europe then?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you as that was the first thing that came to mind. 
Orm nods in agreement, and you decide not to press further, sensing his reluctance to delve into the topic.
The pier gradually becomes less crowded as you and Orm move towards its edge, and the rhythmic sound of the waves beneath grows louder in turn. The lights along the pier continue to illuminate the surroundings, creating a gentle glow that adds to the enchanting atmosphere.
The sky, now mainly adorned in shades of deep blue, cradles the last remnants of daylight along the horizon. A narrow strip of it retains a warm afterglow, casting the tranquil sea in a soft gleam.
You and Orm come to a halt as you reach the end of the pier, overlooking the water.
The sea reflects the transitioning sky, creating a mesmerising dance of colours on its surface. As the daylight wanes, the sea takes on a deep, mysterious navy blue, mirroring the vast expanse above. The rhythmic movements of the waves hold a subtle elegance, their crests catching the remnants of sunlight and transforming them into liquid silver.
The small ripples sparkle in the fading light, creating a celestial reflection that mirrors the ever-changing hues of the sky and the soft lights on the pier.
As you stand at the edge of the sea together, gazing out into the expansive ocean, Orm takes your hand - warm, large, and unexpectedly soft with his long fingers. 
Reflecting on the day, you realise it has been unexpectedly beautiful - it still is. When you first met Orm on the beach, you couldn’t have anticipated this.
You have never met someone who shares the same profound love for the sea, but with him, it is a connection that flows effortlessly like a smooth, unhurried river.
Orm’s voice, quiet yet resonant, breaks the stillness. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes fixed on the ever-moving sea. 
You turn to face him, your own expression reflecting curiosity. “For what?” you inquire, uncertain about the reason for his gratitude.
“For the day,” he responds, his gaze still tethered to the horizon. The soft glow of twilight illuminates his features, allowing you to trace the contours of his side profile with your eyes.
A genuine smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, unsure of how to respond.
The comfortable silence wraps around you, lingering for a moment before you gather the courage to break it. 
“It doesn’t have to be over yet, you know,” you say, the words escaping your lips with a hint of nervous excitement.
Orm turns his head swiftly to face you, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” you continue, feeling a bit breathless, “I think you’d like the aquarium I own.”
Your heart beats a bit faster because, oh god, you just invited Orm over to your place - handsome and a tad strange Orm, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.
A warm smile graces Orm’s features as he nods in agreement. “Lead the way.”
______
Street lanterns and the soft glow of stars guide the way as you drive over the coastal road to your house. 
As you approach, the one-story building comes into view, overlooking the ocean below, with stairs leading down to a dock, a garage for water vessels and the beach. Even in the dark, it is apparent that it is made from dark wood that harmonises with the natural surroundings. 
“Well, here we are,” you say to Orm and turn off the engine after you park your car.
Both of you step out, and you watch as Orm takes in the details of your house.
“This is really nice,” he says, looking at you, a fondness in his blue eyes.
“Thank you,” you reply, smiling. “Wait until you see the inside.”
With that, you lead the way to the door, unlocking it to welcome both of you inside. Turning on the lights, you close the door behind Orm before taking off your shoes.
You notice a brief moment of confusion on Orm’s face, his brows furrowed as if he’s perplexed by the act of removing shoes indoors. Nonetheless, he follows your example, mirroring your actions with a subtle curiosity.
You love your house, as it’s a reflection of who you are. The walls are adorned with various pictures and paintings, capturing scenic views and wildlife scenes. A massive windowfront facing the sea with garden furniture outside offers a serene spot for looking at the ocean. For rainy days, you have a cosy sofa perfectly positioned to enjoy the view.
Orm’s eyes wander around your home, curiosity evident in his gaze. They trace over the pictures, examining the various trinkets and charms that give your house its character. His gaze eventually settles on the highlight of your home - a huge aquarium that spans an entire wall.
When you built it, you decided upon those dimensions to allow for a diverse and thriving marine ecosystem.
As the overhead lights cast a gentle glow, the aquarium reveals a spectrum of colours and movements. Coral formations, in various shapes and hues, provide shelter for a multitude of fish. Small, darting figures in every shade imaginable navigate the intricate structure, their scales catching the light and creating a dazzling dance of colours. Seahorses, graceful and delicate, cling to the swaying fronds of seaweed.
The water, crystal clear and carefully maintained, magnifies the beauty of the inhabitants within. Anemones sway in the gentle current, and schools of fish move in unison, creating an ever-shifting symphony of aquatic life. It’s a tranquil yet lively spectacle that brings the wonders of the ocean directly into your home.
As Orm moves closer to the aquarium, his eyes fixate on the intricate details of the underwater world. The gentle hum of the water filter provides a soothing backdrop to the vibrant display. His gaze traces the contours of coral formations, follows the movements of fish, and lingers on the seahorses.
You watch as he leans in a bit as if drawn into the underwater realm. The overhead lights cast a subtle glow on his features. For a moment, the regal air about him softens, and you see a genuine sense of wonder in his eyes. 
“Wow,” he says, his voice hushed in awe, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
You can’t help but smile as you respond, “I’m glad you like it.”
As you both stand there, watching the aquarium, you notice that the soft glow from it reflects in Orm’s eyes, creating a harmonious blend of colours.
“It’s like having a piece of the ocean at home,” you add, happy to share this with someone who appreciates it as much as you. 
Orm slowly turns away from the mesmerising aquarium, his eyes still reflecting the underwater spectacle.
With a gentle yet firm touch, Orm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you closer. His blue eyes lock onto yours, searching for something in the depths of your gaze, and you swallow dryly.
Closing the distance, he leans in, and his kiss is soft and deliberate. Responding instinctively, your hands find their place on his strong shoulders, fingers tracing the contours of his well-defined muscles.
He hums pleased and deepens it, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer into his thick frame. You taste hints of the cheeseburger he enjoyed, the lingering notes of the beer he had, and something uniquely him that defies easy description but is absolutely delicious. 
The warmth of Orm’s embrace envelops you, and his hands, initially gentle, now hold you with a firm and possessive grip. There’s an undeniable urgency in the way he pulls you closer as if trying to bridge any remaining distance. 
He begins to trail a series of kisses down your neck, each touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. As he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, he pauses, sinking his teeth into your skin with a sharp intensity. A quiet hiss escapes your lips, and your grip on his shoulders tightens in response. Orm soothes the sensation with the caress of his tongue before resuming the journey upward, placing gentle kisses along the column of your throat and inhaling your scent.
“Orm,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently guiding his head back up to meet your lips in another kiss. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you can’t help but register how soft his hair feels beneath your touch.
Orm’s hands explore your body with heightened intensity, each touch sending a wave of heat through the fabric of your clothes. 
When he pulls back, his breath comes out in heavy, rhythmic waves. His hair is already tousled from your fingers running through it, and his eyes, fiery blue, reflect the intensity of the moment, while his lips bear the deliciously pinkened evidence of your shared kisses. 
Breaking the silence, Orm speaks with a low and surprisingly severe voice, “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” His gaze shifts to the aquarium, and his expression suggests a genuine concern. “I’d rather not have spectators.”
A surprised chuckle escapes you as you realise Orm might actually be serious about the fish in the aquarium. You raise an eyebrow, playfully questioning, “Spectators, really?”
Orm nods with a solemn expression and a faint smirk, adding, “They’re judging eyes.”
You can’t help but burst into laughter again, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s get somewhere private, then.” You guide him towards the bedroom, wondering if the fish truly appreciate the unexpected concern for their modesty.
The fleeting thoughts quickly dissipate as Orm is on you again, his lips finding yours in a deep and fervent kiss before he buries his face in your neck, leaving wet kisses that send shivers down your spine.
Pressing against him, you feel the heat radiating from his body and the firmness of his muscles as well as his hard cock. You grind your hips harder on his groin, desperate for some friction and more of the electric spark that every touch from Orm seems to give you.
You physically feel him groan into your skin, a deep, feral sound that reverberates through his chest.
Suddenly, you feel frenzied to get him out of his clothes, to see him naked, to touch his skin. So you tuck on his shirt, pulling it upwards. 
Orm, getting the hint, separates from you and takes it off, letting it fall to the floor. 
Before you have time to appreciate his naked upper body, he lets his hands wander under the hem of your shirt to pull it off you, too - which you let him do without resistance.
Then, with a sudden and assertive move, Orm grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you towards the bed. The motion catches you off guard; the change in him is so quick that you don’t have time to react. 
Orm’s mouth descends upon yours again, a cascade of passionate kisses and teasing nips at your lips as he bites down on your bottom lip before running his tongue over it.
As the back of your knees meets the edge of the bed, he pushes you down, and you find yourself lying on your back.
Finally, you have time to appreciate his form. 
As Orm stands before you, the soft glow of the room’s dim light dances over the planes of his body, creating a mesmerising interplay of shadows and highlights. 
Orm’s hair is tousled, a delightful disarray from your previous encounters and frames his face in a way that adds a hint of wildness to his regal appearance. The light dances on the strands, highlighting the varied shades of blonde.
His eyes, an intensely deep shade of blue, seem to capture the ambient light like the ocean capturing the moon’s glow. The fire within those eyes hasn’t diminished; if anything, it has intensified, turning them into pools of desire and unrestrained passion.
His physique, chiselled with remarkable precision, seems almost otherworldly in its perfection.
The defined lines of his muscles catch your attention, each one sculpted to perfection as if carven by a Greek master aeons ago. The play of shadows accentuates the curves of his arms, the contours of his chest, and the lines of his abdomen. Every movement he makes is a testament to the vigour and elegance that defines him.
Your eyes trace the contours of Orm’s arms. The sight of his substantial biceps commands your focus, the muscles rippling with strength and power. Your gaze follows the prominent vein that courses along the expanse of his arm, tracing its path down to his forearms.
The play of light and shadow accentuates every curve and crevice, revealing a level of physicality that borders on the divine. 
The forearms subtly flex with each miniature movement, a testament to the latent strength within. Your gaze lingers on his hands, large and commanding, the fingers thick and long. There’s a certain elegance in the way those hands move, a grace that contradicts their sheer size and power.
Moving lower, your attention shifts to his defined chest that expands with each breath. You marvel at the expansive breadth of his pectoral muscles. The perfect symmetry of his six-pack draws your gaze, each abdominal muscle pronounced and sculpted. 
Your focus descends even lower, and you see the way his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants, the bulge prominent. You swallow and involuntarily lick your lips in anticipation. 
Desperate to feel his skin, you reach out to touch Orm’s chest.
His muscles are firm and warm beneath your touch as you trace idle patterns. 
You’d have expected him to touch you now and let his fingers wander over your bare skin, but he seems to have frozen. So you look up to meet his eyes - instead of that fiery passion, they now carry a hint of uncertainty.  
Orm’s gaze wanders between you and the surroundings as if grappling with elusive thoughts that demand his attention. The intensity that coloured his actions moments ago wavers, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability that puzzles you. 
You furrow your brows. What happened to that intense, headstrong man who felt like an unwavering current? 
His hair frames his face, and the blue of his eyes, though still vibrant, now mirrors a spectrum of emotions. There’s a depth to his expression, a silent turmoil beneath the surface, a vortex consuming him, pulling him under.
As you study Orm’s features, you sense the weight of something unsaid, and you feel it radiating off him in waves.
Your fingertips gently brush against Orm’s cheek as you reach out in a tender gesture. “Are you okay?” you inquire softly, searching his eyes for any sign of what might be troubling him.
His response is delayed, a moment of hesitation that lingers in the air. Sensing his reluctance to share, you decide to act on a more intuitive level. You reach out and pull him towards you so he also rests on the bed, cradled in your embrace.
“I’m here,” you murmur, the words whispered against his ear as you hold him close. 
Orm shudders against you, his breath grazing your bare skin. It’s evident that he wrestles with unspoken thoughts, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue.
So you decide to lift the weight on his shoulders, and you offer a simple directive, “Let’s just sleep for now. No need to worry about anything.”
As he nestles into your embrace - finally returning it - the tension dissipates from his body, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your shared warmth. 
Your fingers continue their soothing patterns on his back, a gentle effort to anchor him and not let him be adrift in the sea of his thoughts until you both fall asleep. 
The last coherent thought lingering in your mind is that you wouldn’t mind having more moments like this with him - moments that make you feel safe, whole, and strangely content. Only when you feel the soft warmth of his smile against your neck, followed by a tender kiss, you realise that you’ve spoken out loud.
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knockbutimreading · 1 year
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I just read very cute smut. It was a very fun read and I needed to share.
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doublydaring · 10 months
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my horoscope this week is so funny in context
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bloodgoddarlin · 2 years
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How the Piglin Gang + Arthur Sexts
Disclaimer: As with the nature of my blog, this post is 18+. Minors, please keep scrolling and do not interact,, thank you.
Notes: i am a beacon of sin, hope you guys enjoy <3 maybe if i get enough requests I’ll do the side characters too O///O
Tags: sexting, dirty talk, d/s dynamics, the usual with me lmao
Hades: long, detailed paragraphs of what he wants to do to you; "you got me actin' up, baby," videos of him stroking himself and moaning (if requested); "fuck, you're so hot," audios of him sweet-talking you, telling you how sexy you are
Brutus: not as detail oriented as hades. very blunt and to the point. will dip out if he gets bored. "come ride my dick, babe,"; sends thrist trap-y gym selfies from the training area of Julius
Persephone: "you'll be good for me, won't you, baby?"; titty pics. so many titty pics. definitely shows off her muscles too. if she likes you enough, she'll tell you how wet she is. if you're lucky, and she's in a good enough mood, she'll send a video of herself riding her pillow or a one of her toys. Big Mommy Domme energy with this one.
Titus: Lots of begging; plenty of "please touch me," and "I want you so badly." A very shy boy. Say anything even slightly dirty to him and he's hard instantly. Tell him how cute you think his dick is. He eats up praise like it's water, calling him a good boy is a surefire way to revv him up. He will do practically anything you ask him to, so 👀
Io: lots of teasey pics. would definitely ask for pics of you. if you end up sending him anything he'd praise to high heaven like, "oh honey, look at you... what a gorgeous body you have." lots of questions about you and your kinks-- what you like, how you're feeling, how wet/hard you are.
Lucius: like io, he asks lots of questions. what would you like him to do? how can he please you? where should he touch you? would you like to see how hard he is? as a service top, he'd do whatever you need to get off. he would really love to watch you cum though, so make sure you record that for him ;)
Arthur: like titus, he's very subby. begging you to touch him, telling you how much he needs you. if you have a dick, he'll tell you how bad he wants you to fill him up. otherwise, he'll beg you to come ride him. if you ask (order) him to, he'll send you all the videos or pics or audios you want-- anything, as long as you keep making him feel so good.
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eddie-van-munson · 3 months
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The Princess Bride (Farmhand!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader)
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Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Nothing Graphic), Kissing, One Subtle Allusion to Smut, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn...I think that's it?
Summary: You've been best friends with the stable boy since childhood, but when a suitor comes from across the sea to ask for your hand in marriage, you're forced to finally confront your feelings for him.
A/N: I hope y'all like this! I've had this in my drafts for literally over a year, but people seemed interested when I asked, so here it is! Please, Please, Please leave a comment! It will keep me writing!
Six Years Old
Your earliest memory of him was from the stream. 
His head was a mess of wild brown curls, so thick they nearly covered his eyes, and his pants had been rolled up past his knees. You'd been sitting in the gardens, ignoring your tutor's endless lesson on etiquette, when you spotted him through the clearing. He wobbled as he waded further, jumping forward suddenly as he tried to catch a fish with his hands. You had to hide your giggle with a polite cough, lest you be scolded.
The boy heard you, though. He stared at you as you obediently walked along the bank behind a man with a large nose. 
You made eye contact with him, and as soon as he noticed he'd won your attention, it became a game. Suddenly, he was pulling funny faces and splashing around the creek like a giant. He held your gaze all the while, flashing you a two-front-toothless grin when you finally fell into a fit of giggles. 
You'd had to recite forty lines that afternoon because of him, but it was well worth it to share a laugh as he mucked about in the water.
***********
Six Years Old
The next time you saw the boy, you'd fallen ill with fever. It'd been a few months since the stream, and you almost didn't recognize him as he plopped a bundle of healing herbs down on your bedside table. 
"You don't look like a Princess." He crossed his arms before him as he eyed you suspiciously. "You're awfully pale…And you're not even wearing a crown or a dress or anything." 
"I'm sick, you knob." You frowned, "No one wears a crown to bed." 
He hummed, sticking up his nose. "I thought Princesses had to be grown-ups." 
"I'll be queen when I'm a grown up." You announced, bossily. "And you'll have to do everything I say, or I'll send you to jail." 
He scoffed, "Not if I'm the King! The Queen has to do what the King says!" 
You rolled your eyes, "Well, you can't be King." 
"Yes, I can! Haven't you ever read King Arthur?" He pointed, brows raising. "I just have to find an enchanted sword and pull it out of a stone. Then I'll be the King, and I'll send you to jail." 
Your cheeks went pink as you argued, "King Arthur isn't even real!" 
"Yes, he is! And I'll be just like him! King Edward the First!" You giggled, and the boy flipped around from where he'd started strutting around the room, proudly. "What?"
"Edward is a funny name." 
As wildly offended as the boy was by this comment, he had to hide the smile that crept to his face at the sound of your hoarse laughter. "It is not!" 
"Yes, it is! Who's ever heard of a King called Ed? King Eddie!" You held your stomach, falling into another fit of giggles. 
He turned from you indignantly, "Fine! Stay here all alone with your smelly herbs, then! I don't need any silly ole' princess!" 
"No!" You croaked, sitting up in bed. "Don't go. It's so boring up here. I can hardly stand it." 
He sighed, putting a hand on his hip, and thought for a moment. "Only because you'll have me beheaded if I don't." 
***********
Ten Years Old 
"Oh goodness…You've gotten mud on your dress!" 
Your mother fussed over the little blue dress you were wearing, kneeling beside you to get a better look at the damage. Splotches of brown had been smeared over your front. Even your hair had a few streaks of dirt. 
"I got in a mud fight with Eddie." You informed her, as if the mess was perfectly justified by this. 
She chuckled, "I see. It looks like he may have won this time, hm?" She gave your cheek a gentle pinch, making your nose scrunch. 
"No, he didn't!" You turned, pointing at your friend. He dragged his feet behind you, looking defeated. 
Your mother burst into pretty laughter at the sight of him, resting a hand on her stomach. "Oh lamb…come here." 
The poor boy was absolutely caked in dirt. Not an inch of him was left unscathed. His wild curls were sopping with heavy mud, and you couldn't even see the embarrassed flush on his pouty face. He looked like he'd rolled around in the pig pen.  
The queen tutted affectionately, smirking. "Oh what am I going to do with you two?" 
***********
Thirteen Years Old
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tears welled in your eyes as you sat in the windowsill in your room, watching Eddie as he walked quietly by himself in the distant fields, below. "I don't like seeing him cry." 
"He'll be alright, love." Your mother cooed, taking a seat beside you. "I know it's hard to see him in pain, but the poor dear's lost his mother. It might take some time for him to feel like himself again." 
You sniffled, holding your knees. The words trembled when you spoke again.  "He'll be sent away, won't he? He won't be allowed to stay at the palace anymore." 
The Queen frowned, stroking your hair. "Why do you say that?" 
"His mother worked in the laundry. That's why he's lived here so long. Without her, he-" You trailed off, voice cracking as you gave a soft sob. 
"Oh, silly girl." She chuckled softly as she dried your tears. "You think we'd throw Eddie out all on his own?" 
Your brow furrowed, confused. 
"Eddie's a strong boy, sweetheart. He works very hard in the stables and takes good care of the horses. He holds his own…and even if he didn't, he's family. We'd never send him away." 
Your whole demeanor relaxed, "You really mean it?" 
Your mother smiled, "Of course." 
Still, your eyes didn't leave him. You sighed, "He's so sad...He's sad and I don't know how to fix it. 
"I wish we could fix it for him, darling, but that's not how these things work. You can't take away that hurt. You just have to let him feel it." She straightened her dress as she stood, giving your hand a loving squeeze. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't use a friend." 
***********
Fourteen Years Old 
"I didn't know Princesses were allowed to climb trees." Eddie's grin was stained sweet and red, his legs crossed over a branch lazily as you plucked another strawberry from the bushel you'd collected that morning. 
Your etiquette teachers would be appalled if they could see you now, wearing little more than a chemise in the summer heat as you straddled a thick tree branch. Your feet were bare and dirty where they hung in the breeze. You smirked, "They are if nobody sees them." 
Eddie laughed, and it was such a clear sweet sound that you wished you could keep it tucked inside a locket. You sighed, longing to freeze time and keep things just the way they were forever.
You relaxed against a branch, "I've got my whole life to do what royalty is supposed to do. I've got to do fun things while I can still get away with it."
Eddie chuckled, "Maybe I'm a bad influence on you, after all.
You frowned, "Did someone say that to you?" 
He shrugged, unbothered. "The maids whisper it. They say a young lady shouldn't be left alone with a young man." He put on his best 'prim' voice, making you giggle. "I'm a threat to your innocence!" 
You held your stomach, laughing. "A threat to my innocence? That's horrible!" 
He grinned, "You're telling me!" 
The breeze rustled the leaves in the tree as you lounged, breathing in the sweet summer air. 
Eddie had strawberry juice on his lips. For the first time, the tiny, ant-sized thought of kissing it away crawled into your brain. You squished the ant. 
A bad influence, indeed. 
***********
Fifteen Years Old 
"Tag!" 
Eddie sprang up from the corner of the barn, sprinting after you as you ran off into the fields. 
You lost him quickly, cutting down and into the gardens. The morning dew was cool as the grass tickled your bare feet, and you nearly slipped as you ran over the stone path. A gloved hand grabbed your elbow to steady you. You turned to see a member of the palace guard; his brows furrowed. "There you are, Princess. Your Mother-" 
It all happened so quickly. Eddie ran through the bushes, a playful grin tugging his lips, and grabbed you from behind, "I've got you!" He yelled, drowning out your giggles. 
Before you realized what was happening, the guard ripped you from his hold, tossing you aside. Eddie was thrown onto the stone path, his temple hitting hard against the tile. Distantly, he heard you shriek. His vision was fuzzy and starry when he felt the weight of the guard pin him down, a drawn sword shoved against his throat. "You shall not touch her!”
"Stop! Stop it!' You grabbed the guard's arm, But he threw you back down. Eddie choked your name. 
"Stay back!" The guard barked at you, pressing harder against the blade. Eddie could feel blood trickling from his head. He was trembling, eyes closed tight. Still, the guard yelled in his face, “Who are you? Hands by your side!” 
"He's my friend!" You screamed hoarsely.
"Get off of him this instant!"
You'd never been so happy to hear your mother's voice in your life. The guard dropped his sword at the sight of her rushing towards him. Immediately, his face drained pale as a ghost. "Y-Your majesty!" 
"Get off of the boy, for god sakes, he's a child! Get off!" The man clambered off of Eddie as your mother knelt beside him, fussing over him dotingly, "Oh sweetheart, your head…You're shaking like a leaf…" 
He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. The queen turned to the guard as you pitifully crawled over to your friend, pushing his curls back off of his forehead. "I'm sorry I'm sorry-" 
The guard searched for an explanation, "Your majesty, I thought the boy was-" 
"I know what you thought!" She snapped, sternly. She was well aware of the whispers surrounding yours and Eddie's friendship. Your mother's lips were pursed, cheeks red. You'd never seen her like that before in your life. "It gave you no right to hold a weapon to that child's throat!" 
"Your highness, I-" 
Your mother ignored the guard, turning back to you. "Help me get him inside." You nodded obediently as she squeezed Eddie's shaking hand, "I'll send for a doctor to check your head, darling."  
Eddie nodded, dizzily. 
You sat with him later that night when the doctor had gone and his head had cleared. The mark on his forehead would scar, no doubt, but it had been well tended, and any concussion he suffered was minor. This knowledge, of course, did nothing to soothe his nasty headache. 
"You're not a very good sport, you know." He groaned as you took his hand, smirking. "Siccing the palace guards on me just because I tagged you?" He tutted, "What a sore loser." 
***********
Sixteen Years Old 
"You have to tell!" You ran after Eddie as he hauled a sack of oats through the gardens to the stable. 
He ignored you, holding his nose high. "No, I don't. I don't have to tell you everything just because you're a princess."
You crossed your arms, "You have to tell me because I'm your best friend, you knob. Best friends don't keep secrets!" 
"Sure, they do. You mean to tell me you've never kept a secret from me?" 
You groaned, "That's different! You have to tell me if you fancy someone!" 
Eddie sighed, turning to face you, and dropped the sack of oats. "Why do you want to know so bad?" 
You blushed, stammering. "I…I want to help you confess your love!" 
Eddie laughed, "What a lie! You just want to tease me!" 
"Oh, Come on!" You pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders. If you tell me who it is, I'll tell you a secret, too."
"Tempting." He sighed, picking up the sack again and throwing it over his shoulder. "But no." 
***********
Eighteen Years Old
"You've got to keep it down…"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he guided you towards the stables. "Why?" 
He laughed, "If I told you why, then it wouldn't be a surprise." 
He smirked when you groaned, reaching for the latch on the barn door. “You know I don't like surpris-..." 
 You went silent as he led you inside slowly, revealing a soft colored mare, and below her, her newborn foal.
"Oh!" You gasped, a smile creeping to your face. You stepped forward, wanting to approach the baby, but Eddie took your arm, gently pulling you back.
"You've got to be careful...the mare's protective of her. I nearly got kicked in the teeth this morning." He chuckled, enjoying the amazement in your eyes as you watched the mother and baby interact. 
"She's beautiful." You mumbled, grinning. 
Eddie couldn't help but smile, "She's strong too..." He paused, breath fanning your neck as he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. "She'll make a good riding horse, one day." 
You met his brown eyed gaze, biting your lip shyly as he nudged your arm with his elbow. 
You could feel him admiring you. 
You liked it.
***********
Nineteen Years Old
"Oh, Eddie. He was horrible…You wouldn't have been able to stop laughing!" 
Eddie clutched his stomach, laying back against the grass as he toyed with a wildflower. "That's because it's funny!" 
Your fingers fumbled with the ends of your hair, untangling the intricate hairstyle it's been tied up in. "It's not so funny when it's you!" 
Eddie grinned, looking starry eyed, "It really just fell off of his head?" 
"During dinner!" You exclaimed. Eddie fell into another fit of laughter. "Right onto his plate in front of everyone!" 
Your friend sighed, wiping his happy tears as he sat up to gather a handful of clovers. "I can't believe he wore an honest to God wig. The poor lamb." 
You laughed at his faux sympathy, watching his hands as he wove together stems. 
He looked so different from the little boy you'd befriended as a child. His wild curls had grown just past his shoulders now, his bangs often covering the scar on his temple. His arms and back were beautiful, muscles sloping gently beneath his skin, and while he was a hint more bronze than he had been as a boy, his freckles remained. His nose and his dimples had never changed in the slightest, and those big brown eyes reassured you that no matter how much Eddie had grown up, he'd always be that silly little boy, deep down. He'd always be your Eddie. 
"But what's the verdict?" He chuckled, "You never said. Is he the one?" 
You groaned, "You're mocking my pain." 
"I am not!" He fought a smirk. "I didn't want to assume. Maybe he was a wonderful conversationalist." 
You giggled, yawning. "I wouldn't know. I didn't catch a word he said after his hair went into his soup. 
Eddie gave you a fond smile, laying on his elbow beside you, "Here you are, princess. A crown." 
Your heart felt oddly achey as he draped a handmade crown of wildflowers over your head. You smiled, affection in your eyes. 
Your throat was tight when you spoke, "You're better than any prince, Eddie Munson." 
His cheeks flushed faintly. "Well, I don't know about that…" He tapped your nose playfully. "Most princes don't smell like a barn." 
***********
Twenty Years Old 
"Eddie, darling!" Your mother had called to him as he cut through the gardens back to the stable. His brows raised when he turned to find the Queen accompanied by you and the King. A man Eddie had never seen before held your arm, an unreadable expression on your face. Eddie bristled. 
"Your Majesties." Eddie nodded his head politely as the group approached, his muscles stiff with wariness. 
Your father gave a proud smile, gesturing to the stranger on your arm. "Son, let us Introduce you to Prince Carver the Fourth: Heir to the Throne of Hawkins."  
"An honor to meet you, Your Highness." Again, Eddie bowed his head. He'd never seen someone that looked so stiff. The two of you would have fun joking about it, later. 
Prince Carver was older than you, and by the looks of him, he'd never been outside a day in his life. Every last one of his blonde hairs had been tediously placed, as if he'd been sculpted out of clay, and his boots were perfectly polished black leather. The blonde eyed Eddie with disdain, crinkling his nose at the sight of his work clothes. "Yes, I'm sure." 
Eddie fought an eye roll. Another suitor, he assumed. The Royals were only being polite by offering him a tour, seeing as he'd travelled so far only to be rejected.
The Queen stepped towards him, glancing at the prince. "Eddie has become a very dear friend to our daughter, Prince Carver. Perhaps he would make a nice addition to your staff. He's served us so well in our stables." 
Confusion was visible in Eddie's face. An addition to his staff? What was going on? He looked to you for help, but your eyes were cast down into the grass. 
Prince Carver cleared his throat, "Unfortunately, we aren't lacking any farmhands at the moment, but you need not worry about the princess, your highness. She'll find much companionship in Hawkins, once we are wed."
Eddie felt his blood go cold. Absolutely frigid. 
Once we are wed. Once we are wed. Once we are wed.
His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn't find a single word. He was desperate to look you in the eyes, but his gaze was only met by a small shimmer on your left hand. An engagement ring. 
"Please excuse me, Your Majesties." 
****
Eddie hadn't cried like this since his mother died. 
He hadn't felt the blow of such terrible loss since he'd been orphaned. 
He sat alone in the barn on a stool, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gently stroked his fingers through the mane of the foal he'd surprised you with two years ago.
It was a pretty horse…full grown now and patterned with soft brown spots across her back. You'd named her "Sweetheart" after hearing Eddie call her that. 
Come're, Sweetheart. 
Here you go, Sweetheart. 
Good job, Sweetheart…That's it. 
Pain shot through his chest at the realization that the horse would probably get to go with you to your new home. 
But not Eddie. Eddie would be left behind. 
He clenched his jaw, eyes burning as he buried his fists in his curls and tugged. He was angry. He couldn't help but feel angry. It wasn't fair. His whole heart was being shipped off to God knows where, and there wasn't a word he could say about it. 
It wasn't your fault. You were a princess. Your hand in marriage was a pawn in a game of political chess. It had been since the beginning. Both of you knew this. You always had. So why weren't the two of you happy that this inevitable union was one that would lead the country to thrive? 
Eddie took a deep breath, relaxing his hands from his hair and rubbing tears from his face. 
You'd daydreamed with Eddie before. Lots of times. It was always the same thing.
I wish we could just run off and live in the woods, Eds. Just you and me. We could build a little cottage beside a stream. That way, we could swim in the summertime. You could finally teach me to fish, too. 
Is that what he'd been expecting? Had he hoped, deep down, that he'd somehow end up in that cottage after all, spending summer days with you by a stream? 
Maybe. Or maybe he'd just wanted you. 
He'd dreamt up hundreds of different futures for himself. There were countless paths he'd wandered down curiously in his head, over the years. Some were outlandish and fantastic…some were more modest. As much as they varied from day to day, he was realizing now that his hopes for the future had always held something in common. 
He'd always had you. 
****
The next week seemed never ending. 
Eddie didn't see you once. You were avoiding him. That much was obvious. 
Before the proposal, you made a habit of visiting Sweetheart at least once every day. You liked to brush her as you talked with Eddie, twisting braids into her coarse hair. She was spoiled rotten, no doubt, but that didn't leave the horse feeling any less deprived of attention with the sudden loss of your quality time. She'd gotten fussy over the week, whinnying and pacing in her stall. She'd even started kicking again, when she was feeling particularly agitated. 
Still, you made no appearance at the stable. Eddie was surprised, however, to look over the gate one evening to find Prince Carver walking swiftly through the grass. 
"Your highness." Eddie nodded, spotting the green apple in the man's hand. "Have you come to feed the horses?" 
"Certainly not." Carver scoffed, "I've come on behalf of the Princess. I find it inappropriate for her, as a lady, to be spending time in the stables. 
 I've reassured her that I'll take it upon myself to fulfill any required visits with Sugarplum." 
Eddie frowned, " Forgive me Your Highness, but I think you might be thinking of Sweetheart." 
The man scoffed, slapping the apple down in Eddie's hand before storming off.
 "Whatever the damned thing's name is." 
Eddie swallowed hard, calling after him. "Would you like me to show you how to feed her, Prince Carver?" 
The man laughed cruelly, "Heavens no. That's your job, is it not?" 
**********
"What on earth are you-! Edward Munson!" You gasped, immediately dipping over the stone ledge of your window to reach for him. He laughed, flashing you a boyish grin as he took your hand, pulling himself up and over the sill. 
Christ, you'll crack your skull one day!" You muttered, the both of you giving way to the effort and falling to the floor with a thump. 
"For the present my skull remains intact." He reassured, giving a faux bow of his head. 
You snorted, plucking dead leaves and briars from his thick dark curls. "What on earth put it in your head to climb all the way-" 
Eddie caught your hand, his eyes landing on your engagement ring. His thumb brushed over its stone as your heart sank into your belly. 
"Oh." 
Eddie studied the ring for a moment, taking in its details. There was a long silence. Finally, you spoke. 
"It's a dreadfully heavy thing." You pulled it off, placing it on your bedside table. "It catches on my gown, anyways."
A knowing smile crept to Eddie's lips. He sat in the silence for a moment before reaching into his pocket. 
A small wooden ring was produced, painted delicately along the band with tiny white flowers. He slipped it onto your marriage finger. "How's that one?"
You were breathless. "It..it's..." 
It was perfect. It was the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen, though you couldn't find the words to say so. 
Eddie's thumb brushes over the flowers, "I carved that for you when we were sixteen."
Tears welled in your eyes.
"I had it in my mind to propose to you then. The gardener stopped me when he discovered my plan." He gave a sad chuckle. A comfortable silence hung between you. Eddie took your hand, humming. "Would you have said yes?" 
"Eddie..." A tear rolled down your cheek, only to be brushed away carefully by his ever-gentle hand. You gave a sad laugh, your thumb stroking over his wrist. "You're not being fair." 
"Maybe not." He whispered, "But any man should be damned if he saw you and didn't want to keep you."
"It's cruel." Your voice wavered with emotion. "You know I've loved you since we were children...nothing can be done about it, Eddie."
"Nothing can be done about it?" Eddie gave a humorless laugh, "You're going to be Queen. Everything can be done about it." 
"What would you have me do?" Your brow furrowed. "Tell my father to end our alliance with Hawkins?"
"Yes! Hawkins only seeks to use us for our resources. Forest Hills is better off without their partnership." 
You swallowed thickly. The cicadas sang their response from the Glenside below. Again, Eddie wiped your tears. 
"Love is not something to be kept only for common folk. Your father will understand that. So will your kingdom." 
Something in you crumbled under his gaze. You drew closer, letting him envelope you in his arms. He held you for a long time, stroking your back, sweetly. 
"I spoke to your mother." He cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. Your head tilted back; eyes wide as you stared up at him. 
"Did you?" 
"Yes." His eyes were so warm and brown. You had admired them many times before this, but never quite so closely before. "I knew I was to ask for your hand...I couldn’t very well ask for your father's blessing, so I felt your mother's would be just as valuable. To us, at least."
You smiled, your forehead resting against his. "What did she say?" 
Eddie chuckled at the memory, "She pinched my cheek red. I wish you could've seen it. She cried and held my hand...told me she'd always known I would ask her one day." 
You gave a watery laugh, your fingers lacing tightly with his.
"She said she didn’t know if it was possible for me to make you mine, but that nothing would make her happier." 
There was a long silence. Eddie cradled your face, "Do you feel the same, little Princess?" Your pretty eyes fluttered at his whisper. "Do you love me the way I love you?" 
"How could you even ask?" 
Eddie chuckled, "Because I've done nothing but profess my feelings for you tonight, and now I'd like to hear you do the same." 
You chuckled, your smile fading with thought. 
"I knew...I knew I loved you about five summers ago." Eddie smiled fondly, his cheeks going pink. "We practically lived outside then...the world seemed so bright and warm and I didn't realize then that it was all because of you." You reached up, carding her fingers through his messy hair.  "The sun turned your curls golden on the edges-" 
Before you could finish your sentence, he was kissing you. He was soft and warm and strong, holding you close as you melted for one another. Eddie laughed, breathless, when you parted. "I'm afraid I win, then. I've loved you far longer than that." 
You laughed brightly as he kissed you again, working his way down your jaw to the column of your throat. "When?" You breathed, whimpering as he nipped at the crook of your neck. 
"It's hard to say." He moaned softly as you coaxed him back up to your lips, your hands lacing in his hair. "All I know is that I've never loved you more than I do right now." 
Another tear rolled down his love's cheek. He kissed it away. 
"But why these tears, now? Am I really that terrible?" 
You gave a watery laugh. "No. Not at all I...I just..." You gave a little sob. "I want to marry you. I want to be your bride and keep you always, but I can't-" 
"Marry me, then. Right now." 
You frowned, tucking a strand of his curls behind his ear. "What?" 
Eddie thumbed your ring as he caught your hand. "Do we not have a ring? A gown?" He swallows thickly, eyes darting between your night clothes and the mattress beside you.  "A marriage bed?" 
Slowly, You stood, guiding Eddie to stand before you. "We...we have to make a vow" 
"What kind of vow? I've never been to a wedding." 
You stared up at him, eyes brimming with love. "S-Something about.... For richer and for poorer. Through sickness and in health. From each sun to each moon." 
"May I write my own?" 
A tear rolled down your cheek as you nodded. 
He looked down at your hands, so soft and perfect in his rough ones. "I wish I could tell you that as my wife, you will want for nothing. I wish I could make you flowery promises about how you won't have a care in the world...but since I can't make you those promises, I'll make you the ones I can." 
He knelt before you, gazing up into your eyes. 
"I promise to you that no matter how hot the summer's day, I'll always climb to the highest branches to find you perfect, sun-spotted apples."
You giggled, a grin splitting your cheeks.
"I promise to let you spoil your horse as badly as you wish. Never again will I deprive her of a single sugar cube." 
Another giggle. Eddie kissed your knuckles.
"I promise to kiss you...often and abundantly...until you can't bear to kiss me even once more."
Eddie grinned at your blush. 
"I can't build you castles, but I promise you a home. I promise you food to eat and sturdy walls to keep you warm. I promise you children to nurse and adore." 
Eddie paused, heart fluttering.
"And I promise you love. The same love for you that I've held long since before I even knew what I was feeling." 
His voice wavers. 
"I promise that at the end of our lives, I will still feel it." 
Eddie clasped your hand with his, "So, Princess. If you'll have me...then with this ring, I thee wed." 
You repeated his words, falling to your knees to embrace him. Eddie caught you in his arms as he stood, peppering kisses to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. 
His thumb brushed your new ring, gently. "I can't tell you how it feels to see you wearing it." He gave a watery laugh. "It's been sitting on my nightstand for four years now." 
"I wish I could wear it always..." 
"Why can't you?" He pulled back to meet your eyes.
Your expression sunk, "I'm afraid I'm still scheduled to be wed tomorrow morning." 
"Oh, don't be ridiculous." He hummed. "You think I'd allow another man to marry my wife?"
"Eddie..." He scooped you up, laying you gently upon your mattress before sitting beside you. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid tomorrow." 
He chuckled as you combed through his curls with your fingers. "When have I ever been known to do stupid things?" 
"I mean it. You remember what happened the last time someone thought you were a threat to my innocence. It would kill me to see you hurt." Your fingertips grazed the scar on his temple, stiffening at the memory of his head hitting stone. 
There was a long silence as Eddie gazed at the ring. He kissed each of your fingertips slowly. "Do you trust me?" 
"More than anything." 
Eddie smiled at this, holding your hand to his heart, "Then don't worry." 
You gave a hesitant smile. Eddie cradled your body against his, gently combing through your hair. 
"We must leave tonight." He whispered. "Disappear into the woods. If we rode as far as we could on Sweetheart, it would be nearly impossible for them to find us by the time morning came. It would be difficult, but we'd be free." 
Immediately, you tensed. "Eddie, no. He could have you killed if they found us." 
"Then you'd better hold me awfully tight for as long as you can, my love." 
**********
You woke to the sound of water rushing beside you. You laid upon a bed of moss; a thick blanket tucked around you. You felt shade cover you as a figure knelt as your side. A hand on your head, pushing your bangs back lovingly. You stretched and groaned in response, not wishing to leave behind the warmth of your blanket, and kept your eyes closed.
"What a shame." Eddie cooed with a smirk, seeing right through your fib. "My little wife is simply too weak and exhausted to carry on. I suppose I must leave her behind..."
Your eyes flew open, taking his bait. "Leave her behind!?"
Eddie laughed brightly, pulling you into a smiley kiss. You were beginning to think nothing in the world felt better than kissing him.
Eddie's nose nudged against yours as he hummed passively. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
Your jaw dropped, "I do not, Eddie Munson."
He giggled, "You most certainly do, Mrs. Munson. We had a whole conversation whilst you slept."
"What about, pray tell?"
Eddie laid on his back beside her, letting her rest against his chest as he tucked his arms behind his head. "How handsome I am."
You smirked, rolling your eyes as you kissed him. The sun was warm and the cool earth beneath you felt like silk beneath your skin.
"I feel like I could do anything I wanted out here. No one could stop me."
"You could." Eddie smirked with another peck. "But I'm afraid we must keep traveling, my love. We still have a long way to go."
"How far are we going?
He tucked hair behind your ear, "So far they'll never find you. So far that it will be impossible for them to take you from me."
You nodded, curling in against him.
"And once we have finally traveled far enough..." Eddie grinned down at you. "I shall build you our cottage by the stream." 
***********
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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
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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.”
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@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv
DC
@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @certifiedhunter @qardasngan
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