Title: Duck-Apple Pairing: Arthur/Merlin Rating: Mature/Explicit Genre: Canon-era AU Warnings: Drinking/drugs; Dub-con of the sorceresses/potions/erstwhile-innocent seasonal rituals tricked them into doing it (not that they didn't want to do it anyway) variety. Perversion of childhood games and sacred divinations. Summary: Come Samhain, the remaining High Priestesses of the Old Religion conspire to see that Emrys and the High King of Albion finally get their due. (Or, the one where Arthur bobs for cockapples... Inspired by an - I'm just now realizing - incredibly dirty Trickster/Coyote story I was exposed to as a child aka PSA: NOT ALL STRAWBERRIES ARE STRAWBERRIES OK? Um, yeah I'll just be over here feeling judged.)
Duck-Apple part 1Another harvest season ended, another Samhain arrived. This year, however, there will be no sacrifice made on the Isle of the Blessed, no souls let slip through the veil. This year, the remaining High Priestesses are welcome and honored guests at Arthur's table, and though they do not say much, they
( ... )
Duck-Apple part 2Merlin's feeling pleasantly full and just the slightest bit wine-addled as he makes his way towards Gaius' tower with a plate of choice pickings from the feast. The old physician had taken to bed with a bad back earlier, his way of tactfully bowing out of awkward encounters with magical folk still bearing grudges against his complicity during Uther's reign
( ... )
Duck-Apple part 3Arthur is a warrior, born and bred. He's got a healthy fear of bad odds and creatures with multiple heads, but after all that he and Merlin have been through, there is little that truly unnerves him
( ... )
Duck-Apple part 4Merlin is waiting to be born. The world is wet and warm and dark, just a glimmer of light on the horizon, and… He opens his eyes, blinks several times, and hastily re-evaluates
( ... )
Duck-Apple part 5Truth be told, Arthur was expecting something more along the lines of a Wheel of Fortune scenario, perhaps with added indignities involving hot wax or chicken entrails - divination not being a subject he knows much about - so this business with the apples isn’t so bad
( ... )
Merlin swears he would have extracted himself from it, not to mention Arthur's tub, long ago if it weren't for Morwenna's whispered words, sharp nails and the fact that he has absolutely no desire take on a bevy of powerful sorceresses wet and stark bollock naked.
Plus the bath feels nice, and he's still a bit muzzy from whatever foul poison she'd slipped him.
Plus Arthur looks lovely like this, so sincere, despite his earlier jollity. Even if it's just sincere good manners rather than sincere belief, Arthur's clearly having a moment, and Merlin doesn't want to spoil it for him
( ... )
Merlin is in agony. Arthur's splashing and rooting around like a pig at trough, all bold nose and chin with that wide, greedy mouth in between. He's wet and ruddy-cheeked - clearly flustered - and he's come this close to discovering both Merlin's cock and one of his knees.
Panic had set in on both occasions; Merlin had pulled away as silently as he could, trying to calm his agitated breathing.
The panic's no match for his desire though, and after seeing Arthur's pink, open mouth so close to his cockhead, it's only the fear of getting bit that keeps Merlin from thrusting up in the midst of the current fray.
Instead, he grabs one of the apples as it goes bobbing by. Then, when nothing magically untoward happens, he snags another, and another. He clutches them to his chest, watching as Arthur's frustration mounts, wondering if he really dares.
* * *"Och, the big cheat!" Maisie exclaims, just as Morwenna murmurs, "Clever boy
( ... )
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Genre: Canon-era AU
Warnings: Drinking/drugs; Dub-con of the sorceresses/potions/erstwhile-innocent seasonal rituals tricked them into doing it (not that they didn't want to do it anyway) variety. Perversion of childhood games and sacred divinations.
Summary: Come Samhain, the remaining High Priestesses of the Old Religion conspire to see that Emrys and the High King of Albion finally get their due. (Or, the one where Arthur bobs for cockapples... Inspired by an - I'm just now realizing - incredibly dirty Trickster/Coyote story I was exposed to as a child aka PSA: NOT ALL STRAWBERRIES ARE STRAWBERRIES OK? Um, yeah I'll just be over here feeling judged.)
Duck-Apple part 1Another harvest season ended, another Samhain arrived. This year, however, there will be no sacrifice made on the Isle of the Blessed, no souls let slip through the veil. This year, the remaining High Priestesses are welcome and honored guests at Arthur's table, and though they do not say much, they ( ... )
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The situation beggars belief.
Merlin swears he would have extracted himself from it, not to mention Arthur's tub, long ago if it weren't for Morwenna's whispered words, sharp nails and the fact that he has absolutely no desire take on a bevy of powerful sorceresses wet and stark bollock naked.
Plus the bath feels nice, and he's still a bit muzzy from whatever foul poison she'd slipped him.
Plus Arthur looks lovely like this, so sincere, despite his earlier jollity. Even if it's just sincere good manners rather than sincere belief, Arthur's clearly having a moment, and Merlin doesn't want to spoil it for him ( ... )
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Duck-Apple part 7Arthur hovers with his face over the water, waiting for his breathing to calm, trying to ignore the persistent itch of lust ( ... )
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Merlin is in agony. Arthur's splashing and rooting around like a pig at trough, all bold nose and chin with that wide, greedy mouth in between. He's wet and ruddy-cheeked - clearly flustered - and he's come this close to discovering both Merlin's cock and one of his knees.
Panic had set in on both occasions; Merlin had pulled away as silently as he could, trying to calm his agitated breathing.
The panic's no match for his desire though, and after seeing Arthur's pink, open mouth so close to his cockhead, it's only the fear of getting bit that keeps Merlin from thrusting up in the midst of the current fray.
Instead, he grabs one of the apples as it goes bobbing by. Then, when nothing magically untoward happens, he snags another, and another. He clutches them to his chest, watching as Arthur's frustration mounts, wondering if he really dares.
* * *"Och, the big cheat!" Maisie exclaims, just as Morwenna murmurs, "Clever boy ( ... )
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