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kinkfestTitle: Connections
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shiegra
Rating: NC17
Prompt: - Merlin (BBC), Merlin/Morgana: Magic (either used during sex or just as a turn on)- The Special Two.
Word count: 755
A/N: So sorry for the late submissions! Life kicked me in the butt. I'll get them all done and in, and the rest should be on time.
Merlin was all bones and angles out of his shirt, sopping wet, looking caught somewhere between giddy and worried. Morgana wrung out her nightgown, gasping for breath, and looked up at the clear skies, the peeking moon, the mysterious and majestic towering clouds.
"So cold," she whispered.
"Sorry," he said, and he did look apologetic, but the huge grin kept breaking through, lighting up his eyes. Morgana stepped up onto the bank, her gown brushing her toes, clinging wetly to the long line of her body, and he suddenly seemed to be paying attention, judging by the abrupt scarlet flare of his cheeks.
Morgana raised one exquisitely expressive eyebrow at him. "Well, master sorcerer? I don't suppose you know any tricks for this sort of situation?"
His smile peeked through again, shy and luminous. "I'm best a spur-of-the-moment stuff, really," he said. "But I'll try."
The ghost of a wind swept around her skin, warmth suddenly bathing her face in an arid rush. She gasped, her breath hitching, and he mumbled something under his breath--the feel of magic was like fireworks going off behind her eyelids. Pure heady pleasure. "Oh my god," Morgana whispered, and he looked up.
"What? I'm sorry, did I--"
Wondering, she touched his face. He jumped when he realized how close she was, and she could almost feel the blush burning beneath his skin. "I've never felt you like this," she whispered, and he caught his lower lip between his teeth.
"Felt...me?" The words were a little shaky as she cupped his face and knelt.
"It must have been you," she breathed. "I've felt...faintly, so faintly, but very..." Her thumb trailed across his lower lip. His pupils were dilated, his breath coming out in a shaky rush. "You didn't finish drying me off."
A tremor went through him, but he closed his eyes again and murmured. The magic was so much more intense this time, this close. Morgana cried out, dropping over him; it knocked him over, and he caught her awkwardly, and she shuddered against him. "Can't you feel it," she said, "can't you feel it can't you feel--" and she felt her own magic slide up through her, as though summoned, like ripples of water answering to rain, quicksilver cool shimmer through her limbs, lighting her up down to her nails.
"Morgana," he said, his voice shaky. She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and kissed him, hard, and the tides of magic, subtle and potent and intimate, smashed together like surf on the sand.
Merlin arched off the sand. She felt the power like foam through them both, and she arched with him, and suddenly she was straddling him after a tangled hasty mess of limbs. His hands dropped to her thighs; he kissed the corner of her mouth, her throat, the white curve of her breasts. Every place their skin touched the power leapt, sparked, subsided in never ending waves. It rolled her under, swallowing her into the depths.
"Let me feel it," Morgana said, her voice husky and low. His eyes were brilliant, shimmering gold in the moonlight, hazy. His mouth was bruised with kisses.
"I've never--"
Morgana closed her eyes. Concentrated, feeling the flow and ebb of the magic, the hard shapes and slick sharp angles. Merlin yelped, and she opened her eyes and grinned at his undone trousers, triumphant. "Neither have I," she said. "We'll figure it out."
The moment he slid inside her, the flow of power sent shockwaves of sensation through them. The sensitivity made her scream, her nails digging into his chest; he bucked under her, and somehow the pleasure and the pain mingled and interwove and rolled through her. Like a circle snapped shut, the connection finished; suddenly she was tapped into him. Looking up at herself, feeling herself wet and clenched tight around his cock, her breasts outlined with wet fabric, her head thrown back, her eyes glowing through the fragile sheath of her eyelids. Around them the trees and grass and water moved as though in a gale; the heat was building.
She drove herself down on him, tightening, and the sensation shoved them both over the edge of orgasm, locked together, feeling the power and pleasure rock through them in an endless feedback loop.
When they were finally separated--their fingers intertwined, her dress around her hips, thighs slick, both of their breathing harsh--Morgana realized that a circle of maybe twenty feet around them was scorched dry as bone, and Merlin was almost laughing, soundless, utterly dazed, and she'd never felt so deeply connected with another living thing.
Their hearts were beating in sync.
Author/Artist:
shiegraRating: NC17
Prompt: - Merlin (BBC), Merlin/Morgana: Magic (either used during sex or just as a turn on)- The Special Two.
Word count: 755
A/N: So sorry for the late submissions! Life kicked me in the butt. I'll get them all done and in, and the rest should be on time.
Merlin was all bones and angles out of his shirt, sopping wet, looking caught somewhere between giddy and worried. Morgana wrung out her nightgown, gasping for breath, and looked up at the clear skies, the peeking moon, the mysterious and majestic towering clouds.
"So cold," she whispered.
"Sorry," he said, and he did look apologetic, but the huge grin kept breaking through, lighting up his eyes. Morgana stepped up onto the bank, her gown brushing her toes, clinging wetly to the long line of her body, and he suddenly seemed to be paying attention, judging by the abrupt scarlet flare of his cheeks.
Morgana raised one exquisitely expressive eyebrow at him. "Well, master sorcerer? I don't suppose you know any tricks for this sort of situation?"
His smile peeked through again, shy and luminous. "I'm best a spur-of-the-moment stuff, really," he said. "But I'll try."
The ghost of a wind swept around her skin, warmth suddenly bathing her face in an arid rush. She gasped, her breath hitching, and he mumbled something under his breath--the feel of magic was like fireworks going off behind her eyelids. Pure heady pleasure. "Oh my god," Morgana whispered, and he looked up.
"What? I'm sorry, did I--"
Wondering, she touched his face. He jumped when he realized how close she was, and she could almost feel the blush burning beneath his skin. "I've never felt you like this," she whispered, and he caught his lower lip between his teeth.
"Felt...me?" The words were a little shaky as she cupped his face and knelt.
"It must have been you," she breathed. "I've felt...faintly, so faintly, but very..." Her thumb trailed across his lower lip. His pupils were dilated, his breath coming out in a shaky rush. "You didn't finish drying me off."
A tremor went through him, but he closed his eyes again and murmured. The magic was so much more intense this time, this close. Morgana cried out, dropping over him; it knocked him over, and he caught her awkwardly, and she shuddered against him. "Can't you feel it," she said, "can't you feel it can't you feel--" and she felt her own magic slide up through her, as though summoned, like ripples of water answering to rain, quicksilver cool shimmer through her limbs, lighting her up down to her nails.
"Morgana," he said, his voice shaky. She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and kissed him, hard, and the tides of magic, subtle and potent and intimate, smashed together like surf on the sand.
Merlin arched off the sand. She felt the power like foam through them both, and she arched with him, and suddenly she was straddling him after a tangled hasty mess of limbs. His hands dropped to her thighs; he kissed the corner of her mouth, her throat, the white curve of her breasts. Every place their skin touched the power leapt, sparked, subsided in never ending waves. It rolled her under, swallowing her into the depths.
"Let me feel it," Morgana said, her voice husky and low. His eyes were brilliant, shimmering gold in the moonlight, hazy. His mouth was bruised with kisses.
"I've never--"
Morgana closed her eyes. Concentrated, feeling the flow and ebb of the magic, the hard shapes and slick sharp angles. Merlin yelped, and she opened her eyes and grinned at his undone trousers, triumphant. "Neither have I," she said. "We'll figure it out."
The moment he slid inside her, the flow of power sent shockwaves of sensation through them. The sensitivity made her scream, her nails digging into his chest; he bucked under her, and somehow the pleasure and the pain mingled and interwove and rolled through her. Like a circle snapped shut, the connection finished; suddenly she was tapped into him. Looking up at herself, feeling herself wet and clenched tight around his cock, her breasts outlined with wet fabric, her head thrown back, her eyes glowing through the fragile sheath of her eyelids. Around them the trees and grass and water moved as though in a gale; the heat was building.
She drove herself down on him, tightening, and the sensation shoved them both over the edge of orgasm, locked together, feeling the power and pleasure rock through them in an endless feedback loop.
When they were finally separated--their fingers intertwined, her dress around her hips, thighs slick, both of their breathing harsh--Morgana realized that a circle of maybe twenty feet around them was scorched dry as bone, and Merlin was almost laughing, soundless, utterly dazed, and she'd never felt so deeply connected with another living thing.
Their hearts were beating in sync.
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