Volcano (Merlin - NC-17)
Title: Volcano
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1789
Warnings/Spoilers: Smut smut smut? General spoilers for season 2
Summary: A response to a kinkme prompt: Arthur/Merlin, Merlin doesn't realize his magic starts to affect Arthur whenever he fantasizes about him.
Notes: My beta, mpoetess, is made of win for not killing me for my grammar fail. And that I totes recommend listening to Volcano by Damien Rice while reading it.
Volcanoes melt me down'>
When this whole thing started, Arthur had simply assumed his slightly embarrassing nightly emissions were the fault of the dry spell he'd been going through since that first kiss with Guinevere. That theory was shot all to hell almost a week into the incidents when one happened while he was very much awake and finishing up reading a few reports from the borders.
It was magic, this much he was absolutely certain of. Mostly because there was very little else to explain a phantom sorcerer molesting him at night. Whatever they hoped to accomplish with this little plan of theirs wouldn't work because he was the crown prince of Camelot and not about to allow himself to be manipulated by their perverted actions. Even if he hadn't managed to mention it to anyone yet.
Well, how could he explain why he waited an entire bloody month of this before mentioning the obvious magical attack on his royal person?
So, he was simply going to stop this on his own. All in due time. He'd lure the attacker into a false sense of security to discover their true identity and end this once and for all. It was a foolproof plan. Well... almost foolproof. He needed to insure that Merlin wouldn't happen into his chambers on whatever flight of fancy he was on about this week and see something that was none of his business. So extra work was in order to keep the boy too busy to bother him at night. A little extra armor to polish before the morning did the trick, even if Merlin was glaring daggers at him as he left for the evening.
A little hard work would do him well. Ungrateful is what he was.
That evening, Arthur waited--not eagerly--but patiently for the next assault. And waited. It seemed he was plagued by a tardy wizard as nothing happened at the usual time. Nothing after that either.
It was so long after that he'd dozed off on top of the soft blankets before the first touch happened. It was just as the first time, gentle, almost reverent touches down his neck and bare back over long forgotten scars. Never rough or demanding, this sorcerer. Probably an attempt to drive him mad. But he was wise to the tricks this foul creature was playing on him. Wise and already half hard in anticipation as the ghostly hands reached the waist of his breeches to slowly push them down.
Arthur pressed his forehead against the bed, ignoring the fact that he was also lifting his hips to help get the trousers down his thighs. It wasn't something he enjoyed. It was wrong and foul and dangerous.
And he was painfully hard now.
One of the hands curved over his hip, urging him up onto his knees even as the other kept a faint pressure between his shoulder blades. Not enough to keep him pinned--he shook it off once before--but more an unspoken suggestion of a familiar position.
Bringing his hands up parallel with his shoulders, Arthur obediently did as requested as he gripped the blankets tightly with a very quiet sigh. It was wrong and he simply could not bring himself to stop it.
The other hand joined the first, rubbing faint circles over the cheeks of his ass with what he assumed to be the sorcerer's thumbs. A phantom kiss was pressed against the back of his neck. Also familiar now. Everything was the same as had been done for the past month, nothing new there at all.
Another kiss between his shoulder blades and things---switched up just a bit. The hands moved, getting a good handful of firm muscle in each of them suddenly enough to force a grunt out of Arthur. There was the slightest pause as if they were contemplating something. A tease now as well. Death would be too good once he found the wizard responsible.
But the thoughts of murder were interrupted as one of the hands was removed and he was given a firm, open palmed slap on the rump.
Arthur made a choked noise of outrage as his ghostly attacker rubbed the now stinging skin in a soothing manner. Clearly whoever this was had a very strong deathwish if they thought it was okay to slap Arthur at all.
The rubbing of his abused cheek gave way to a bit more--intimate rubbing as the sorcerer pressed his thumb between Arthur's cheeks to tease him a bit more. The thumb was slick with something that hadn't been there before. More magic, no doubt.
A few more teasing circles of the thumb and Arthur was pushing back just slightly as he muffled a groan into the bed. He could have sworn he heard an amused chuckle before most thought mysteriously disappeared and he felt the sorcerer finally press his thumb in. Slow, steady and practiced after so many nights of this. "God--" Arthur bit off the rest of the curse, voice cracking like he was a damned boy again. He arched back against the thumb, trying to get more of what he knew was coming.
It really must have been quite the sight to behold. Prince Arthur, on his knees and begging to be fucked like a whore. Right now he really couldn't bring himself to focus on the 'shoulds' and 'oughts', though.
Far too quickly the thumb was pulled out and there was another firm slap that had him starting forward and grunting at the suddenness of it. It was followed by another as the sorcerer seemed to be growing more confident in this new addition to his little game. Arthur found, to his mortification, that it wasn't serving to lessen his arousal in the slightest.
After a few more stinging slaps it ended and his legs were nudged further apart in preparation for what he hoped would be the main event of this evening. He'd waited all night and was more than ready for it to happen before he needed to wake for training. He couldn't stay on some insomniac wizard's schedule, after all.
What he got instead came as a little more of a shock, to be perfectly honest.
That was not a finger pressing into him to begin the process of preparing him. That, if he was not mistaken, was most decidedly a tongue. The phantom hands spread him apart as his opening was teased in a way he certainly hadn't imagined before. He fisted the blankets tightly, moaning loud. If that kept up, he wouldn't care if half of Camelot paraded on through his chambers.
"Nngh." Arthur clenched his teeth to keep from doing any begging as a long, sure finger was pressed into him in addition to the--tongue thing that was still happening.
He spread his legs as wide as the trousers still bunched up at his knees allowed, rocking back to meet the slick finger and exploring tongue with a low groan. "C'mon," he ground out, not about to beg for this.
It was close enough for his phantom partner, it seemed, as a second finger slipped in with the first for that dull burn that came from the stretch he'd become far too used to lately. With one last swipe of his tongue, the sorcerer seemed content to lazily prepare Arthur with only his fingers. It might have helped a bit that Arthur was pushing back to meet each thrust of those fingers in him, fucking himself in his eagerness to move forward.
The addition of a third finger and the slightest curl of them left Arthur panting and cursing as he made an absolute mess of the blankets far too soon. As if he was still an overly excited boy. It was the magic. It simply had to be.
He had far more control than this.
Normally.
As he recovered from his orgasm, the fingers were pulled out and something far more thick and long was just pressed against his entrance as the sorcerer stroked the small of his back soothingly with one hand. The other was curled firmly around his hip for support as he slowly--always so damned slow--eased in. Really now, he would have thought some magic user with a bone to pick with the Pendragon line would have been a bit more forceful about this.
Not that he was complaining.
Arthur gripped the blankets, straining to accommodate the size for a moment or two. He had no doubt that was also magically enhanced there. Because someone larger than himself was just ludicrous.
He could feel a ghostly breath on the back of his neck, panting as well. It meant his 'plan' was working and the wizard was enjoying this enough to become forgetful. The light kiss to that same spot was just--something like wonderful. Had this been different and he enjoyed that sort of thing. Which he did not.
The first thrust came after a moment, followed by another as the hand on his hip tightened. There was no teasing in this, though. It built up steadily to a rhythm that left Arthur, even so soon after he already came, half hard at the constant pressure there. He couldn't stifle the little gasps of pleasure that happened almost regularly with the thrusts. The first few times this had happened, it was less common, but it seemed the sorcerer had figured out the best angle to leave Arthur a wreck by the end.
It was only when the thrusts took on a rough, desperate quality to them that Arthur knew this was going to be over soon. He steadfastly ignored the little feeling of disappointment that came at that. Because he was Arthur Pendragon and he did not want to be buggered senseless by some poncy sorcerer. Even if his breathing had gone ragged and he was so very close to another orgasm as he pressed back to meet each thrust. It was all just... magic. Yes.
The hand on his hip moved around as things reached their peak, taking him firmly in hand and stroking with the perfect amount of pressure and friction and Arthur was left crying out loud enough to be heard if he had allowed Merlin to stay in the antechamber anymore.
The lips on the back of his neck silently mouthed what might have been his name as the sorcerer followed not too long after. The grip on his hips was dropped and there was a moment he almost swore another figure was attempting to curl up around him as he collapsed bonelessly on the bed. But that was just... silly. Yes.
He ought to take care of things before having to deal with Merlin wandering into his chambers unannounced in the morning and being scandalized like the utter girl he was. That could wait, though. Right now the lure of post-orgasmic sleep was just too strong as the presence disappeared entirely. Tomorrow night he'd catch them. Yes.
Tomorrow night.
Sequel Here
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1789
Warnings/Spoilers: Smut smut smut? General spoilers for season 2
Summary: A response to a kinkme prompt: Arthur/Merlin, Merlin doesn't realize his magic starts to affect Arthur whenever he fantasizes about him.
Notes: My beta, mpoetess, is made of win for not killing me for my grammar fail. And that I totes recommend listening to Volcano by Damien Rice while reading it.
Volcanoes melt me down'>
When this whole thing started, Arthur had simply assumed his slightly embarrassing nightly emissions were the fault of the dry spell he'd been going through since that first kiss with Guinevere. That theory was shot all to hell almost a week into the incidents when one happened while he was very much awake and finishing up reading a few reports from the borders.
It was magic, this much he was absolutely certain of. Mostly because there was very little else to explain a phantom sorcerer molesting him at night. Whatever they hoped to accomplish with this little plan of theirs wouldn't work because he was the crown prince of Camelot and not about to allow himself to be manipulated by their perverted actions. Even if he hadn't managed to mention it to anyone yet.
Well, how could he explain why he waited an entire bloody month of this before mentioning the obvious magical attack on his royal person?
So, he was simply going to stop this on his own. All in due time. He'd lure the attacker into a false sense of security to discover their true identity and end this once and for all. It was a foolproof plan. Well... almost foolproof. He needed to insure that Merlin wouldn't happen into his chambers on whatever flight of fancy he was on about this week and see something that was none of his business. So extra work was in order to keep the boy too busy to bother him at night. A little extra armor to polish before the morning did the trick, even if Merlin was glaring daggers at him as he left for the evening.
A little hard work would do him well. Ungrateful is what he was.
That evening, Arthur waited--not eagerly--but patiently for the next assault. And waited. It seemed he was plagued by a tardy wizard as nothing happened at the usual time. Nothing after that either.
It was so long after that he'd dozed off on top of the soft blankets before the first touch happened. It was just as the first time, gentle, almost reverent touches down his neck and bare back over long forgotten scars. Never rough or demanding, this sorcerer. Probably an attempt to drive him mad. But he was wise to the tricks this foul creature was playing on him. Wise and already half hard in anticipation as the ghostly hands reached the waist of his breeches to slowly push them down.
Arthur pressed his forehead against the bed, ignoring the fact that he was also lifting his hips to help get the trousers down his thighs. It wasn't something he enjoyed. It was wrong and foul and dangerous.
And he was painfully hard now.
One of the hands curved over his hip, urging him up onto his knees even as the other kept a faint pressure between his shoulder blades. Not enough to keep him pinned--he shook it off once before--but more an unspoken suggestion of a familiar position.
Bringing his hands up parallel with his shoulders, Arthur obediently did as requested as he gripped the blankets tightly with a very quiet sigh. It was wrong and he simply could not bring himself to stop it.
The other hand joined the first, rubbing faint circles over the cheeks of his ass with what he assumed to be the sorcerer's thumbs. A phantom kiss was pressed against the back of his neck. Also familiar now. Everything was the same as had been done for the past month, nothing new there at all.
Another kiss between his shoulder blades and things---switched up just a bit. The hands moved, getting a good handful of firm muscle in each of them suddenly enough to force a grunt out of Arthur. There was the slightest pause as if they were contemplating something. A tease now as well. Death would be too good once he found the wizard responsible.
But the thoughts of murder were interrupted as one of the hands was removed and he was given a firm, open palmed slap on the rump.
Arthur made a choked noise of outrage as his ghostly attacker rubbed the now stinging skin in a soothing manner. Clearly whoever this was had a very strong deathwish if they thought it was okay to slap Arthur at all.
The rubbing of his abused cheek gave way to a bit more--intimate rubbing as the sorcerer pressed his thumb between Arthur's cheeks to tease him a bit more. The thumb was slick with something that hadn't been there before. More magic, no doubt.
A few more teasing circles of the thumb and Arthur was pushing back just slightly as he muffled a groan into the bed. He could have sworn he heard an amused chuckle before most thought mysteriously disappeared and he felt the sorcerer finally press his thumb in. Slow, steady and practiced after so many nights of this. "God--" Arthur bit off the rest of the curse, voice cracking like he was a damned boy again. He arched back against the thumb, trying to get more of what he knew was coming.
It really must have been quite the sight to behold. Prince Arthur, on his knees and begging to be fucked like a whore. Right now he really couldn't bring himself to focus on the 'shoulds' and 'oughts', though.
Far too quickly the thumb was pulled out and there was another firm slap that had him starting forward and grunting at the suddenness of it. It was followed by another as the sorcerer seemed to be growing more confident in this new addition to his little game. Arthur found, to his mortification, that it wasn't serving to lessen his arousal in the slightest.
After a few more stinging slaps it ended and his legs were nudged further apart in preparation for what he hoped would be the main event of this evening. He'd waited all night and was more than ready for it to happen before he needed to wake for training. He couldn't stay on some insomniac wizard's schedule, after all.
What he got instead came as a little more of a shock, to be perfectly honest.
That was not a finger pressing into him to begin the process of preparing him. That, if he was not mistaken, was most decidedly a tongue. The phantom hands spread him apart as his opening was teased in a way he certainly hadn't imagined before. He fisted the blankets tightly, moaning loud. If that kept up, he wouldn't care if half of Camelot paraded on through his chambers.
"Nngh." Arthur clenched his teeth to keep from doing any begging as a long, sure finger was pressed into him in addition to the--tongue thing that was still happening.
He spread his legs as wide as the trousers still bunched up at his knees allowed, rocking back to meet the slick finger and exploring tongue with a low groan. "C'mon," he ground out, not about to beg for this.
It was close enough for his phantom partner, it seemed, as a second finger slipped in with the first for that dull burn that came from the stretch he'd become far too used to lately. With one last swipe of his tongue, the sorcerer seemed content to lazily prepare Arthur with only his fingers. It might have helped a bit that Arthur was pushing back to meet each thrust of those fingers in him, fucking himself in his eagerness to move forward.
The addition of a third finger and the slightest curl of them left Arthur panting and cursing as he made an absolute mess of the blankets far too soon. As if he was still an overly excited boy. It was the magic. It simply had to be.
He had far more control than this.
Normally.
As he recovered from his orgasm, the fingers were pulled out and something far more thick and long was just pressed against his entrance as the sorcerer stroked the small of his back soothingly with one hand. The other was curled firmly around his hip for support as he slowly--always so damned slow--eased in. Really now, he would have thought some magic user with a bone to pick with the Pendragon line would have been a bit more forceful about this.
Not that he was complaining.
Arthur gripped the blankets, straining to accommodate the size for a moment or two. He had no doubt that was also magically enhanced there. Because someone larger than himself was just ludicrous.
He could feel a ghostly breath on the back of his neck, panting as well. It meant his 'plan' was working and the wizard was enjoying this enough to become forgetful. The light kiss to that same spot was just--something like wonderful. Had this been different and he enjoyed that sort of thing. Which he did not.
The first thrust came after a moment, followed by another as the hand on his hip tightened. There was no teasing in this, though. It built up steadily to a rhythm that left Arthur, even so soon after he already came, half hard at the constant pressure there. He couldn't stifle the little gasps of pleasure that happened almost regularly with the thrusts. The first few times this had happened, it was less common, but it seemed the sorcerer had figured out the best angle to leave Arthur a wreck by the end.
It was only when the thrusts took on a rough, desperate quality to them that Arthur knew this was going to be over soon. He steadfastly ignored the little feeling of disappointment that came at that. Because he was Arthur Pendragon and he did not want to be buggered senseless by some poncy sorcerer. Even if his breathing had gone ragged and he was so very close to another orgasm as he pressed back to meet each thrust. It was all just... magic. Yes.
The hand on his hip moved around as things reached their peak, taking him firmly in hand and stroking with the perfect amount of pressure and friction and Arthur was left crying out loud enough to be heard if he had allowed Merlin to stay in the antechamber anymore.
The lips on the back of his neck silently mouthed what might have been his name as the sorcerer followed not too long after. The grip on his hips was dropped and there was a moment he almost swore another figure was attempting to curl up around him as he collapsed bonelessly on the bed. But that was just... silly. Yes.
He ought to take care of things before having to deal with Merlin wandering into his chambers unannounced in the morning and being scandalized like the utter girl he was. That could wait, though. Right now the lure of post-orgasmic sleep was just too strong as the presence disappeared entirely. Tomorrow night he'd catch them. Yes.
Tomorrow night.
Sequel Here