Amy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
such_heights) wrote2010-01-12 01:24 am
such_heights) wrote2010-01-12 01:24 am
Entry tags:
FIC: Whatever You Want (Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, adult)
Whatever You Want
Merlin ; Merlin/Arthur ; adult ; 1200 words ; written formiarrow at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
camelot_fleet, who prompted 'Arthur/Whoever, spanking' ; also at the AO3
The trouble is, Merlin thinks, he probably should have twigged a lot sooner that sleeping with Arthur on any kind of regular basis was going to involve holding his hand and slowly undoing twenty years of Pendragon-style total repression.
The trouble is, Merlin thinks, he probably should have twigged a lot sooner that sleeping with Arthur on any kind of regular basis was going to involve holding his hand and slowly undoing twenty years of Pendragon-style total repression. (Not that Morgana seemed to have the same problems, at least, not from what Gwen told Merlin.)
So it's taken Merlin a while to get Arthur to this point, where he's been able to articulate, however vaguely, that there's something he actually wants. Merlin's had it filed away, has quietly made some preparations - a trip down to the kitchens, a little rearranging of Arthur's usual Sunday activities - and now it's just a case of talking Arthur into something that was his own idea in the first place.
"So," Merlin said, as Arthur was pacing the room looking like he was about to go and doing something productive. "I had an idea."
"Oh, that's always a good start," Arthur said.
Merlin grinned at him. "Absolutely. Well, it's just, there was that thing you were talking about the other day, and as it happens I--" He broke off as he went to go fetch the paddle he'd found in the kitchens. It was about the size of his hand, smooth varnished wood, and Merlin had decided it would do quite nicely.
Arthur looked mystified as Merlin dug it out from where he'd secreted it under the table that morning, then his eyes widened. "What --" he started.
"Only if you still want to," Merlin said, tapping the paddle against his palm lightly. He was gratified to see Arthur's expression change - there was definitely some interest there as well as the usual flash of panic. "I just thought we could - try it."
"You mean you want to use that to -" Arthur couldn't bring him to say it.
"Smack you? That was your general idea last week."
Arthur doesn't say anything for too long, and Merlin's just about convinced himself that Arthur's going to bolt when he hears, "Okay."
"Yeah?" Merlin tries to hide his surprise, because he knows it's still not a done deal.
"Yes, all right," says Arthur, like he's steeling himself. Merlin just hopes this'll be fun when they actually figure it out.
"Well, good!" says Merlin, trying to sound encouraging, but he thinks maybe that's not the most mood-appropriate tone. He tries a different tack. "I want to do this," he says, stepping into Arthur's space. "I want to do this for you."
Arthur swallows, then he grabs a fistful of Merlin's shirt and kisses him, which Merlin figures is pretty unequivocal agreement. He presses his free hand against the small of Arthur's back and drags him towards the bed, perching on the edge and moving his hands to stroke underneath the waistband of Arthur's trousers, brushing his fingertips over the soft skin of Arthur's arse. Arthur groans and leans over Merlin, tilting his face upwards to kiss him deeper.
Merlin springs into action. He slides his hands down the back of Arthur's thighs, undressing Arthur as he goes - this, at least, is familiar territory. He shifts a little on the bed, manoeuvring until he thinks he can support Arthur's weight, and then hooks his hands behind Arthur's knees and pulls him forward. Arthur overbalances, and Merlin takes the opportunity to draw him into his lap, resting one hand on Arthur's arse and the other on his shoulder. Arthur shudders and lets his head drop down until their foreheads touch.
"Do it," Arthur says, hoarse.
"All right," says Merlin. "You'll have to tell me what you want. And tell me to stop and I'll stop."
He's been thinking about this, trying to work out what Arthur's likely to enjoy. Merlin doesn't really get the appeal of getting pain involved in sex, himself, even if he doesn't protest when Arthur gets bitey from time to time. Still, he figures that if this doesn't sting it's mostly pointless, so he picks up the paddle, weighs it in his hands and brings it down to meet Arthur's arse. Merlin jumps slightly at the cracking sound of firm wood against yielding flesh, but Arthur barely reacts.
Merlin tries again, aiming the blow a little lower this time.
"Put your back into it, Merlin," Arthur says, sounding so much like himself that Merlin laughs and does as he's told, bringing the paddle down again for a third, harder smack. The force of it makes Arthur jolt, and he moans in Merlin's ear.
"Better?" Merlin asks, but he doesn't wait for a response before he hits Arthur again.
He's been so focused on what Arthur wanted that he hadn't really considered how this would feel to do. It's something of a power trip, but more than that, he feels almost giddy to be able to do something like this for Arthur, bringing out these sounds from him, pain turned into pleasure. No one else gets to see Arthur this bare, in every sense.
"More," Arthur grunts, his eyes shut and his breath hot over Merlin's face.
Merlin hesitates, using the moment to take in this sight of Arthur, gloriously dishevelled, a long red flush running down his throat and below the hem of the shirt he's still wearing. He's hard in Merlin's lap, his skin sweat-damp, and Merlin can only imagine the marks he's leaving every time he strikes Arthur.
"Merlin," Arthur groans, sounding half-frantic.
Merlin starts up again, faster now, not giving Arthur any time to recover between blows. Arthur shudders against him, his whole body shakes, and Merlin's aching to strip his own clothes off, slick Arthur open and thrust inside. He keeps at it, strike after strike, until Arthur bites down on Merlin's shoulder, letting out a muffled yell, trembling.
"Oh, oh wow," Merlin says, coming back to himself a little bit. He drops the paddle and runs his hands lightly over Arthur's arse instead, where the skin is shockingly hot to the touch. "Are you okay?"
Arthur croaks something that's probably meant to be a laugh and tugs Merlin's cock free of his trousers, shifting until he's got his broad palm wrapped around them both. The sudden friction is so good that Merlin has to fight not to come immediately. He tries to breathe slowly, an endeavour interrupted by Arthur kissing him again, sloppy and insistent.
Merlin gasps into Arthur's mouth, close to the edge, and he can tell Arthur is too. Merlin's still got his hands on Arthur's arse, and he tightens his grip, making Arthur jolt. He slides two fingers between Arthur's cheeks, circling his hole in the light touches that he knows drives Arthur mad. Arthur responds by tightening his grip around Merlin, and that's it, Merlin's done, hot pleasure shooting down his spine as he spills over in Arthur's hands. He presses a kiss to Arthur's throat, feeling warm and loose-limbed, and it only takes a few more strokes before Arthur's following him, all the tension draining from his body and sending both of them into a tangled heap on the bed.
Arthur lands face first in the sheets and seems reluctant to move, so Merlin resigns himself to staying still, pinned by Arthur's body.
He doesn't really mind.
Merlin ; Merlin/Arthur ; adult ; 1200 words ; written for
miarrow at camelot_fleet, who prompted 'Arthur/Whoever, spanking' ; also at the AO3The trouble is, Merlin thinks, he probably should have twigged a lot sooner that sleeping with Arthur on any kind of regular basis was going to involve holding his hand and slowly undoing twenty years of Pendragon-style total repression.
The trouble is, Merlin thinks, he probably should have twigged a lot sooner that sleeping with Arthur on any kind of regular basis was going to involve holding his hand and slowly undoing twenty years of Pendragon-style total repression. (Not that Morgana seemed to have the same problems, at least, not from what Gwen told Merlin.)
So it's taken Merlin a while to get Arthur to this point, where he's been able to articulate, however vaguely, that there's something he actually wants. Merlin's had it filed away, has quietly made some preparations - a trip down to the kitchens, a little rearranging of Arthur's usual Sunday activities - and now it's just a case of talking Arthur into something that was his own idea in the first place.
"So," Merlin said, as Arthur was pacing the room looking like he was about to go and doing something productive. "I had an idea."
"Oh, that's always a good start," Arthur said.
Merlin grinned at him. "Absolutely. Well, it's just, there was that thing you were talking about the other day, and as it happens I--" He broke off as he went to go fetch the paddle he'd found in the kitchens. It was about the size of his hand, smooth varnished wood, and Merlin had decided it would do quite nicely.
Arthur looked mystified as Merlin dug it out from where he'd secreted it under the table that morning, then his eyes widened. "What --" he started.
"Only if you still want to," Merlin said, tapping the paddle against his palm lightly. He was gratified to see Arthur's expression change - there was definitely some interest there as well as the usual flash of panic. "I just thought we could - try it."
"You mean you want to use that to -" Arthur couldn't bring him to say it.
"Smack you? That was your general idea last week."
Arthur doesn't say anything for too long, and Merlin's just about convinced himself that Arthur's going to bolt when he hears, "Okay."
"Yeah?" Merlin tries to hide his surprise, because he knows it's still not a done deal.
"Yes, all right," says Arthur, like he's steeling himself. Merlin just hopes this'll be fun when they actually figure it out.
"Well, good!" says Merlin, trying to sound encouraging, but he thinks maybe that's not the most mood-appropriate tone. He tries a different tack. "I want to do this," he says, stepping into Arthur's space. "I want to do this for you."
Arthur swallows, then he grabs a fistful of Merlin's shirt and kisses him, which Merlin figures is pretty unequivocal agreement. He presses his free hand against the small of Arthur's back and drags him towards the bed, perching on the edge and moving his hands to stroke underneath the waistband of Arthur's trousers, brushing his fingertips over the soft skin of Arthur's arse. Arthur groans and leans over Merlin, tilting his face upwards to kiss him deeper.
Merlin springs into action. He slides his hands down the back of Arthur's thighs, undressing Arthur as he goes - this, at least, is familiar territory. He shifts a little on the bed, manoeuvring until he thinks he can support Arthur's weight, and then hooks his hands behind Arthur's knees and pulls him forward. Arthur overbalances, and Merlin takes the opportunity to draw him into his lap, resting one hand on Arthur's arse and the other on his shoulder. Arthur shudders and lets his head drop down until their foreheads touch.
"Do it," Arthur says, hoarse.
"All right," says Merlin. "You'll have to tell me what you want. And tell me to stop and I'll stop."
He's been thinking about this, trying to work out what Arthur's likely to enjoy. Merlin doesn't really get the appeal of getting pain involved in sex, himself, even if he doesn't protest when Arthur gets bitey from time to time. Still, he figures that if this doesn't sting it's mostly pointless, so he picks up the paddle, weighs it in his hands and brings it down to meet Arthur's arse. Merlin jumps slightly at the cracking sound of firm wood against yielding flesh, but Arthur barely reacts.
Merlin tries again, aiming the blow a little lower this time.
"Put your back into it, Merlin," Arthur says, sounding so much like himself that Merlin laughs and does as he's told, bringing the paddle down again for a third, harder smack. The force of it makes Arthur jolt, and he moans in Merlin's ear.
"Better?" Merlin asks, but he doesn't wait for a response before he hits Arthur again.
He's been so focused on what Arthur wanted that he hadn't really considered how this would feel to do. It's something of a power trip, but more than that, he feels almost giddy to be able to do something like this for Arthur, bringing out these sounds from him, pain turned into pleasure. No one else gets to see Arthur this bare, in every sense.
"More," Arthur grunts, his eyes shut and his breath hot over Merlin's face.
Merlin hesitates, using the moment to take in this sight of Arthur, gloriously dishevelled, a long red flush running down his throat and below the hem of the shirt he's still wearing. He's hard in Merlin's lap, his skin sweat-damp, and Merlin can only imagine the marks he's leaving every time he strikes Arthur.
"Merlin," Arthur groans, sounding half-frantic.
Merlin starts up again, faster now, not giving Arthur any time to recover between blows. Arthur shudders against him, his whole body shakes, and Merlin's aching to strip his own clothes off, slick Arthur open and thrust inside. He keeps at it, strike after strike, until Arthur bites down on Merlin's shoulder, letting out a muffled yell, trembling.
"Oh, oh wow," Merlin says, coming back to himself a little bit. He drops the paddle and runs his hands lightly over Arthur's arse instead, where the skin is shockingly hot to the touch. "Are you okay?"
Arthur croaks something that's probably meant to be a laugh and tugs Merlin's cock free of his trousers, shifting until he's got his broad palm wrapped around them both. The sudden friction is so good that Merlin has to fight not to come immediately. He tries to breathe slowly, an endeavour interrupted by Arthur kissing him again, sloppy and insistent.
Merlin gasps into Arthur's mouth, close to the edge, and he can tell Arthur is too. Merlin's still got his hands on Arthur's arse, and he tightens his grip, making Arthur jolt. He slides two fingers between Arthur's cheeks, circling his hole in the light touches that he knows drives Arthur mad. Arthur responds by tightening his grip around Merlin, and that's it, Merlin's done, hot pleasure shooting down his spine as he spills over in Arthur's hands. He presses a kiss to Arthur's throat, feeling warm and loose-limbed, and it only takes a few more strokes before Arthur's following him, all the tension draining from his body and sending both of them into a tangled heap on the bed.
Arthur lands face first in the sheets and seems reluctant to move, so Merlin resigns himself to staying still, pinned by Arthur's body.
He doesn't really mind.
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