Best Laid Plans, Rleashy_bebesMarch 12 2012, 16:33:25 UTC
the phrase 'copious lovemaking' was too good not to borrowGwaine has a plan. He's not one of life's natural planners, tends to prefer jumping in with both feet and seeing where the situation takes him. But now, for this, he has a plan. He's already implemented phase one: annoyed Percival into covering for him, conducted several extremely daring raids on the kitchen, and liberated warm blankets from the laundry. He'd even borrowed a basket to stash it all in, like a maiden going off to market
( ... )
Re: Best Laid Plans, Rleashy_bebesMarch 12 2012, 16:34:14 UTC
On the count of three, Merlin whispers some of those mystical (kind of arousing, really, although even Gwaine would have to admit this isn't exactly the time) words, and a flash of bright white light illuminates the clearing for a split second. Almost instantly, Gwaine wishes it hadn't. Because he doesn't see much, but he does see eyes the size of plates, glowing a malevolent red through the trees
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Arthur/Gwaine/Merlindarksagegrl0February 14 2012, 16:54:01 UTC
Modern AU. Trying to make a threesome relationship work in the modern world. Hurt/Comfort, but with a Happy Ending. Hearts and kisses and chocolates to someone who fills this. ^-^
Gwaine/Merlin
anonymous
February 14 2012, 17:56:07 UTC
All night I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe. let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.
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The girl's lip curls and she tosses her hair. "Cursed? Have you never heard of experimentation, you fool?"
"You - did that to yourself?"
"Obviously," the girl says scathingly ( ... )
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( ... )
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^-^
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him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me
like stars.
Richard Siken: Saying Your Names
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