FIC, Untitled porny porn, Arthur/Merlin, NC-17
Title: Untitled porny porn
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: None, unless you like to be warned for cursing and the good kind of nasty
Summary: 500 words of Arthur and Merlin having sex. That’s it, basically.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them
Author’s Note: Written for the armer_gayms porn challenge
You pull out and flip Merlin over onto his back, want to see his face when you do this and when his head hits your pillow he glares at you and says, “Don’t manhandle me,” trying to be annoyed but he’s flushed and his cock is dribbling precome onto his bellybutton in wet little spurts.
“You liked it,” you tell him (smug, pleased), and he says, “I didn’t, wipe that smirk off your face,” and you laugh and say, “Liar;” say, “You’re such a slut for me, Merlin, can’t get enough of my cock,” and haul his knees up and thrust in again-push your cock deep into that tender, tiny hole (all pink and messy with oil and spit; used; open) and Merlin grunts when you do it and his spine arches up off the bed, skinny chest curved outward and you bend down and lick at a pebbled brown nipple, the white curl of a collarbone.
Merlin says, “Fuck, fuck, oh Jesus,” clutching at your shoulders and you kiss his neck and guide his long legs around your middle, his thighs squeezed tight around you just like a girl and you hide your smile against his throat, against the softsweet hollow there and he groans and rocks his hips, wanting more already, saying, “Move, fuck me, Arthur, please,” wanton and begging and lovely and yours and you jerk forward before he’s even finished speaking-press into him and your balls bump heavy at the dip of his arsecheeks and he cries out when the movement makes your abdomen rub against his cock. You kiss the sound right out of his mouth.
Merlin’s hands skim down the sweat-slick plane of your back, possessive, then up again: blunt nails dragging trails against your skin (lightly; enough for you to feel but not enough to leave a scratch) and sliding into your hair, damp blond tendrils caught warm between his fingers as he holds your head to his and kisses you. Lets himself be kissed.
His mouth is swollen-a perfect bow bruised red-and you bite, gentle, at his bottom lip; suck a pink imprint high on his neck near his jawline where his neckerchief won’t cover, which will purple tomorrow and mark him as yours.
You swivel your hips, get your cock to hit that sweet spot hidden inside him and he makes the most amazing sound, this hitching, half-startled mewl breathed hot into the shell of your ear and you fuck him and he writhes and holds onto you like an anchor and then he comes: shakes apart underneath you with his semen sticky on your chests and you didn’t even touch him, Jesus, you didn’t even have to jerk him off, he was that eager for you already and you-ohfuck, you-you shove in again and again and he clamps down around you and says, “Arthur,” your name broken open on his tongue, and you grunt and push into him and fill him full of spunk.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: None, unless you like to be warned for cursing and the good kind of nasty
Summary: 500 words of Arthur and Merlin having sex. That’s it, basically.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them
Author’s Note: Written for the armer_gayms porn challenge
You pull out and flip Merlin over onto his back, want to see his face when you do this and when his head hits your pillow he glares at you and says, “Don’t manhandle me,” trying to be annoyed but he’s flushed and his cock is dribbling precome onto his bellybutton in wet little spurts.
“You liked it,” you tell him (smug, pleased), and he says, “I didn’t, wipe that smirk off your face,” and you laugh and say, “Liar;” say, “You’re such a slut for me, Merlin, can’t get enough of my cock,” and haul his knees up and thrust in again-push your cock deep into that tender, tiny hole (all pink and messy with oil and spit; used; open) and Merlin grunts when you do it and his spine arches up off the bed, skinny chest curved outward and you bend down and lick at a pebbled brown nipple, the white curl of a collarbone.
Merlin says, “Fuck, fuck, oh Jesus,” clutching at your shoulders and you kiss his neck and guide his long legs around your middle, his thighs squeezed tight around you just like a girl and you hide your smile against his throat, against the softsweet hollow there and he groans and rocks his hips, wanting more already, saying, “Move, fuck me, Arthur, please,” wanton and begging and lovely and yours and you jerk forward before he’s even finished speaking-press into him and your balls bump heavy at the dip of his arsecheeks and he cries out when the movement makes your abdomen rub against his cock. You kiss the sound right out of his mouth.
Merlin’s hands skim down the sweat-slick plane of your back, possessive, then up again: blunt nails dragging trails against your skin (lightly; enough for you to feel but not enough to leave a scratch) and sliding into your hair, damp blond tendrils caught warm between his fingers as he holds your head to his and kisses you. Lets himself be kissed.
His mouth is swollen-a perfect bow bruised red-and you bite, gentle, at his bottom lip; suck a pink imprint high on his neck near his jawline where his neckerchief won’t cover, which will purple tomorrow and mark him as yours.
You swivel your hips, get your cock to hit that sweet spot hidden inside him and he makes the most amazing sound, this hitching, half-startled mewl breathed hot into the shell of your ear and you fuck him and he writhes and holds onto you like an anchor and then he comes: shakes apart underneath you with his semen sticky on your chests and you didn’t even touch him, Jesus, you didn’t even have to jerk him off, he was that eager for you already and you-ohfuck, you-you shove in again and again and he clamps down around you and says, “Arthur,” your name broken open on his tongue, and you grunt and push into him and fill him full of spunk.