belts and buckles
Title:belts and buckles
Recipient: darksagegrlodarksagegrlo
Author: min7girl
Rating:nc17
Pairing/s:Arthur/Merlin
Summary:Merlin is tied up with a belt. It's a challenge, a game.
Warnings:Bondage
Word Count:892
Author's Notes:Not as much smut as it is mushy, but its smuttish
Disclaimer:Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.(Speak for yourself about the dungeons :P)
Hard leather leaves marks, and Arthur hates marks on Merlin's skin, hates to see anything that his mouth or hand didn't make. So when the belt is used, Merlin knows to be still. He knows not to pull at his wrists that are carefully wrapped in the thick brown leather. It's a game of physical control, emotional stability. Don't move.
Even though there is nothing preventing Merlin from moving his legs or arching his back into the steady touches that start at his ankles and move slowly up to his thighs, he knows he must not move. The coiled tension in his spine has to be let go. The itch on his right side, just under his ribs, has to be ignored. Only Arthur exists now. Don't move.
The tickling sensation of the pads of fingers brush the slight hair of his legs. Its nothings he can't handle. Nothing the prat of all things could do that he can't deal with. A mental shiver echoes around him. The ghost of Arthur's breath over his balls makes him want to lean his hips forward. Don't Move.
Arthur pulse back and laughs at his efforts in a way that is neither mocking, nor without appeal. It's another form of taunting that Merlin is quite used to. Another way to try to get him to move, but he doesn't. He won't. Arthur narrows his eyes further in challenge, tilts his his head to let his eyes caress Merlin's full form. Laid out for him. On Display for him. It's a game, but at the same time Merlin knows that every teasing jest is a form of affection. Foreplay. It arouses both of them just as much as kissing. Arthur's posturing, Merlin's defiance. It's satisfying in ways many will never understand. Merlin's muscles start to burn. Don't Move.
Lips follow the lines drawn by fingers and Merlin breathes faster but steady. Down a collar bone, circling a nipple, but not touching it. Down again, further to his hips and thighs. The appreciation of each pore on his skin is a gift that he cherishes, but Don't move.
Arthur takes a deep breath in and Merlin closes his eyes, so he can focus better on the feeling of it. The adoration of his body in this way tells Merlin all he needs to know about how Arthur loves him. The respect and caring his lover has for his very soul's existence. "I love you", whispers out of Merlin on a shallow exhale. So very shallow from the quick panting of his lungs. Don't Move.
Arthur always saves his most sensitive bits for last, latching on firmly to the pink nipples he traced before, while the tips of one hand's fingers swirls the head of Merlin's cock. One by one. Wet and teased, Merlin pleads with his own mind and body. He knows how good it will feel in the end. No matter the wait to his tensing muscles, he knows the pressure will flow from him in perfect pleasure.
"You're beautiful." Arthur says repeatedly into his skin.
Don't Move.
The room when they do this is always warm, but parts of Merlin are trembling now. The parts he can't seem to make understand the game. The loosened part of him is clenching slowly, becoming tighter by the second. It couldn't have been more than an hour ago that Arthur worked him open, fucked him to climax, then tied him to the bed. Was Merlin so desperate that his body already begged for further release? Knees to elbows and everything in-between, the core of him, his arse trembled with every touch. Don't Move.
"Arthur" Merlin says his name like a prayer. Maybe it is. Maybe it's all too much to last for him. Usually he lasts longer in this game, but maybe today he needs this more. He'd been wrapped up in everything and nothing lately, too busy to think and Arthur always did seem to know when he needed to play. Merlin smiles in spite of himself around a moan. Don't Move
The lips and teeth tugging at his chest move further down, warm and soft over his cock. Hot breath from Arthur's nose tickle his balls as his lover takes him all in and stays down holding the full length of Merlin deep in his throat. Merlin's right pinky flinches and he curses silently at his slip up. Arthur of course knows almost immediately, a gaping smile forming around Merlin's erection.
The suction begins in ernest then, full of tongue and tight comforting pressure. Merlin wants to shove his hips forward. The prat has won this round and most likely won't let Merlin forget it for days, but Merlin knows this isn't the end. Not until Arthur makes him come. He still needs to be still. Hold back fucking up into that perfect annoying mouth. It's so close too. Don't move.
His legs shake with the effort. Arthur bobs his head faster. One or both of them moan. God Don't Move.
His arse clenches tight as Arthur swallows down hard around his cock, a hand coming up to fist at the very base on every upswing of his jaw. Merlin shudders violently, sight slipping from color to white as he comes. The thick white arches from his body in ways the rest of him wants to.
Recipient: darksagegrlodarksagegrlo
Author: min7girl
Rating:nc17
Pairing/s:Arthur/Merlin
Summary:Merlin is tied up with a belt. It's a challenge, a game.
Warnings:Bondage
Word Count:892
Author's Notes:Not as much smut as it is mushy, but its smuttish
Disclaimer:Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.(Speak for yourself about the dungeons :P)
Hard leather leaves marks, and Arthur hates marks on Merlin's skin, hates to see anything that his mouth or hand didn't make. So when the belt is used, Merlin knows to be still. He knows not to pull at his wrists that are carefully wrapped in the thick brown leather. It's a game of physical control, emotional stability. Don't move.
Even though there is nothing preventing Merlin from moving his legs or arching his back into the steady touches that start at his ankles and move slowly up to his thighs, he knows he must not move. The coiled tension in his spine has to be let go. The itch on his right side, just under his ribs, has to be ignored. Only Arthur exists now. Don't move.
The tickling sensation of the pads of fingers brush the slight hair of his legs. Its nothings he can't handle. Nothing the prat of all things could do that he can't deal with. A mental shiver echoes around him. The ghost of Arthur's breath over his balls makes him want to lean his hips forward. Don't Move.
Arthur pulse back and laughs at his efforts in a way that is neither mocking, nor without appeal. It's another form of taunting that Merlin is quite used to. Another way to try to get him to move, but he doesn't. He won't. Arthur narrows his eyes further in challenge, tilts his his head to let his eyes caress Merlin's full form. Laid out for him. On Display for him. It's a game, but at the same time Merlin knows that every teasing jest is a form of affection. Foreplay. It arouses both of them just as much as kissing. Arthur's posturing, Merlin's defiance. It's satisfying in ways many will never understand. Merlin's muscles start to burn. Don't Move.
Lips follow the lines drawn by fingers and Merlin breathes faster but steady. Down a collar bone, circling a nipple, but not touching it. Down again, further to his hips and thighs. The appreciation of each pore on his skin is a gift that he cherishes, but Don't move.
Arthur takes a deep breath in and Merlin closes his eyes, so he can focus better on the feeling of it. The adoration of his body in this way tells Merlin all he needs to know about how Arthur loves him. The respect and caring his lover has for his very soul's existence. "I love you", whispers out of Merlin on a shallow exhale. So very shallow from the quick panting of his lungs. Don't Move.
Arthur always saves his most sensitive bits for last, latching on firmly to the pink nipples he traced before, while the tips of one hand's fingers swirls the head of Merlin's cock. One by one. Wet and teased, Merlin pleads with his own mind and body. He knows how good it will feel in the end. No matter the wait to his tensing muscles, he knows the pressure will flow from him in perfect pleasure.
"You're beautiful." Arthur says repeatedly into his skin.
Don't Move.
The room when they do this is always warm, but parts of Merlin are trembling now. The parts he can't seem to make understand the game. The loosened part of him is clenching slowly, becoming tighter by the second. It couldn't have been more than an hour ago that Arthur worked him open, fucked him to climax, then tied him to the bed. Was Merlin so desperate that his body already begged for further release? Knees to elbows and everything in-between, the core of him, his arse trembled with every touch. Don't Move.
"Arthur" Merlin says his name like a prayer. Maybe it is. Maybe it's all too much to last for him. Usually he lasts longer in this game, but maybe today he needs this more. He'd been wrapped up in everything and nothing lately, too busy to think and Arthur always did seem to know when he needed to play. Merlin smiles in spite of himself around a moan. Don't Move
The lips and teeth tugging at his chest move further down, warm and soft over his cock. Hot breath from Arthur's nose tickle his balls as his lover takes him all in and stays down holding the full length of Merlin deep in his throat. Merlin's right pinky flinches and he curses silently at his slip up. Arthur of course knows almost immediately, a gaping smile forming around Merlin's erection.
The suction begins in ernest then, full of tongue and tight comforting pressure. Merlin wants to shove his hips forward. The prat has won this round and most likely won't let Merlin forget it for days, but Merlin knows this isn't the end. Not until Arthur makes him come. He still needs to be still. Hold back fucking up into that perfect annoying mouth. It's so close too. Don't move.
His legs shake with the effort. Arthur bobs his head faster. One or both of them moan. God Don't Move.
His arse clenches tight as Arthur swallows down hard around his cock, a hand coming up to fist at the very base on every upswing of his jaw. Merlin shudders violently, sight slipping from color to white as he comes. The thick white arches from his body in ways the rest of him wants to.