marguerite_26: (Merlin - Pants down)
[personal profile] marguerite_26
It’s Friday. Time for a comment fest writing experiment thingy, I think.

While we were editing Four in the Morning, [livejournal.com profile] magnolia822, [livejournal.com profile] xsmoonshine and I were chatting about how we could have an entire fest based on “SOMEONE BEING NAKED MADE THEM DO IT.”

And since it’s Friday and I’m looking for a reason not to write the fic I’m working on right now, let’s do this.

All fandoms and pairings welcome.*
Leave a prompt with a pairing, including (if you like) who/why/how (re: the nudity).

Both art and fic are always welcome for fills.

Nudity can be interpreted as you like. There are no must-be-bare-arsed police here. Just as long as at least one character is ~exposed (voluntary or not) during the fic.

*If you prompt for Avengers, please warn for spoilers.



[ART]
Bradley walks in on Colin changing (Merlin; RPF) WS by [livejournal.com profile] alby_mangroves

[FIC]
Avengers
Avengers (no spoilers), Steve/Tony, Interesting/Interested, G by [livejournal.com profile] leashy_bebes

Merlin
Camelot's Curse NOW COMPLETE!!! (Merlin/Arthur) by [livejournal.com profile] oflittleuse
Arthur getting tattooed makes them do it (Merlin/Arthur) G for now by [livejournal.com profile] marguerite_26
Merlin/Arthur theater AU - Arthur sees Merlin changing out of his women's costume by [livejournal.com profile] marink1485
Merlin/Arthur - the knot makes them do it by [livejournal.com profile] magnolia822
These Endearments Speak My Heart (Merlin/Gwaine) by [livejournal.com profile] planejane

Harry Potter
Harry/Draco - Draco's underwear mysteriously disappears by [livejournal.com profile] bonfoi
Sirius/Harry Sirius likes to walk around naked. by [livejournal.com profile] bonfoi
The Hazards of Slytherin Strip Snap (Harry/Draco, NC-17) by [livejournal.com profile] ginger_veela

Sherlock
Sherlock/John -- clothes taken for testing, decontamination shower taken by [livejournal.com profile] bonfoi
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
They start on his chest; Arthur lets out a sharp exhale at the heated pinprick of magic searing his skin. He sees Merlin’s whole body shift forward like he wants to leap across the campfire and save Arthur from this insignificant pain. Arthur raises his chin to show Merlin and the druids circling them both that he is unafraid.

The wind shifts and smoke from the campfire curls back at him and he has to look away, blinking at the sting. The low murmur of the old women at Arthur’s side hasn’t stopped since the ritual began.

They move to the inside of his wrists while his skin’s still raw from the first marks. He’s not sure what now appears on his chest and he refuses to look, but the symbol appearing on his wrist is within is peripheral vision. He’s learned in the last day that this symbols means Emrys, that it is key to this ritual, though the explanation for this as the representation of the joining of the druid people and the people of Camelot was vague.

As they finish the mark on his wrist, someone reaches for the tie of his cloak and Arthur knows what will happen next. Merlin watches, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Arthur pushes his shoulders back, nods and his cape slips to the grass of the clearing. The wind raises bumps on his over-heated skin as a warm cloth wipes over his freshly shaved groin. Arthur meets Merlin’s eyes but Merlin’s expression is now unreadable in the flickering shadows of the fire.

They haven’t had a chance to talk yet, not since he’d agree to the ritual and was whisked away to prepare. He hasn’t been able to explain to Merlin why this is important to him, why the druids’ support and respect are key to his success as ruler of these lands. Even this indignity – standing naked and hairless as boy in front of the Elders of the tribe – is worth it to make amends for his father’s crimes.

But as the magic of the old woman burns a mark below his navel and downward, he sees no shame in Merlin’s regard.


(tbc?)

Edited Date: 2012-05-04 06:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gilli-ann.livejournal.com
Eeeeee! I hope you'll continue! What DOES Arthur see in Merlin's regard? Heat and desire, hmmmm? What will the rest of the ritual entail? Arthur is ever staunch in the face of duties and demanding circumstances, but hopefully here he'll need to lose his cool...
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
ty! I have the rest of the fic in my head but zero time to write atm! *pouts*

I'll keep trying to poke at it though. ;)
From: [identity profile] gilli-ann.livejournal.com
Yay! Sorry for double-posting the comment. LJ told me the first version didn't take - then changed its mind.
ext_1007977: (Default)
From: [identity profile] magnolia822.livejournal.com
OMG this is gorgeous so far, bb. Um, freshly shaved groin? ::gulps::
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Um, freshly shaved groin?
lol... well, he had to be ~prepared for the ritual. >.>

From: [identity profile] brunettepet.livejournal.com
Ooh, this is intriguing and I'm surprised how hot Arthur being shaved is.
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
Thank you! I'm glad that worked for you. ;)
From: [identity profile] alby-mangroves.livejournal.com
OH GOD. Please do continue. That's a fantastic fic concept, tbh.
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
Thank you! It was too fun a prompt to not jump on it. :)
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
What he does see there makes his cheeks flush. Merlin’s eyes are intense, fathomless as they stare unblinking. Arthur can see the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows and the sheen of sweat across his top lip. He’s acutely aware of their audience and the fact that the slow slide of pain inching downward is thickening his cock as surely as though it were the caress of a beautiful woman. Possibly more so because it’s not. It’s magic, with a pain that’s undeniable, fading to burn like the slice of a finely sharpened edge; the kind of cut you can’t even see until the blood pebbles and drips forth. It’s undeniable erotic, though Arthur has never associated pain so immediately with desire. Arthur unclenches his fists and forcing himself to relax and feel no embarrassment at the heavy weight now dangling between his thighs.

The line of the mark splits and curves to each side just above his cock and Arthur breaths a sigh of relief at the reprieve. He’s not sure he’s prepared to handle the feel of such powerful magic directly on his cock without losing the tight grip he holds on his control.

The old woman is quiet and Arthur snaps from his daze at the silence.

Behind him, the deep voice of one of the Elders commands, “Emrys, step forward.”

Arthur looks around, expecting an explanation but all eyes are no longer on him. Emrys. The words means eternal, he’d been told. Emrys would be the symbol of the undying connection between their peoples, a pact with the magic of the land and Arthur, that they will remain faithful to the spirit of this agreement. Emrys was not a person.

At Merlin suddenly before him, Arthur blinks.

“I tried to explain--” Merlin says, his head tilted, pleading.

“As it is foretold,” a voice echoes through the gathering, reverberating off the trees and into the night. “Emrys and the young Pendragon will together bring magic back to the land and Albion will be born.”

“What’s happening?” Arthur spits at Merlin through clenched teeth.

“Well, your highness,” Merlin says in a harsh whisper that carries in the quiet but he doesn’t check himself -- he never does. His explanation tumbles out in a blur of words that make less sense than usual. “You decided to ignore me as I tried to pull you away from the meeting to talk to you for two seconds. You went in there, not telling me what you were planning and just... “ Merlin waves his hands, exasperated. “... just promise to bind yourself to the land, to Emrys.”

“Emrys means eternal,” Arthur snaps, his nerves beginning to fray. He was missing something though. He could see it in Merlin’s face that it was something important. “You told me that yourself when I asked what the word meant. Prosperity for eternity. It seemed like a good choice.”

“Emrys means eternal. Immortal. But it’s also a title.”

A man reaches between them, cutting off their conversation and Merlin gives Arthur a broken smile as an apology. Then the man pulls the string on Merlin’s cloak and like Arthur’s it falls, pooling at his feet and leaving him bare.
From: [identity profile] tourdefierce.livejournal.com
MAGGIE.

THIS.

WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING TO MY POOR HEART. I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING MY HSMERLIN AND NOW I WANT TO MOLEST YOU UNTIL YOU WRITE ALL TEH WORDS ON THIS.

ahhhhhhh.
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
Merlin’s been shaven, too. Arthur doesn’t want to look but it’s impossible to tear his eyes away from the stretch of pale, hairless skin. His mind’s lost on the image of Merlin standing naked in a tent, looking on in horror and fascination as Arthur had while a boy slides a blade expertly along his most vulnerable parts.

“It’s for purity,” Merlin says, and Arthur snaps his eyes away, embarrassed at being caught.

“I still don’t understand.” And more than anything that infuriates him.

Merlin steps closer, his hand rising to rest on Arthur’s shoulders. They’re so close now. Merlin fills all Arthur’s vision. The crowd fades into insignificance as Merlin whispers, “I am Emrys.”

“What?”

Before Merlin can reply, the old woman begins again and this time it’s Merlin who hisses, head thrown back in surprise as lines begin to appear on his chest. Arthur’s mesmerised by the pattern taking shape as smoothly as from an ink-soaked quill. And he forgets momentarily his question, and forgets the frustration building inside him at Merlin stepping in the middle of this important event, just as he steps in the middle of everything in Arthur’s life.

“I wish you’d given me a chance to explain properly,” Merlin grits out, breathless from the pain. “This isn’t how it is supposed to go.”

Merlin’s breath is warm on his cheek, and Arthur ducks his head against the intimacy of it. But there’s no escaping how close they are, how laid bare. When Arthur looks down he realises they’re both hard -- god, their thickening lengths are almost touching. The old woman’s voice rings loud at their side and draws Arthur back to the circle, to where they are now and who they’re in front of.

“What is going on, Merlin?” He makes no effort to hide the anger in his voice.

Merlin’s fingers dig into his shoulders, and his tone’s desperate as he says, “Arthur, you need to tell me if you’re agreeing to this.”

“I’ve already ..” Arthur looks down at himself, at how he’s already permanently marked with his commitment.

“No. You need to tell me that you accept this. Now that you know … about me.” Merlin holds his gaze, his eyes bright. “This will only work if you do.”

Arthur pauses at the question, looks to his wrists and the symbol that he’d misunderstood. “This is you. I’ll be binded to you.”

“Yes,” Merlin says, “I’m sorry but I need to know right now.”

“How could you not tell me?”

“Dammit, Arthur, I tried.” Merlin’s voice cracks over the words and Arthur doesn’t doubt the sincerity of them for an instant. They both need more time, time for explanation and time for understanding. But the chantings reaching a fever pitch and Arthur sees in Merlin’s eyes that he needs an answer.

“Fine,” Arthur rasps. “Yes, I accept.”

At Arthur’s words, Merlin’s tattoos begin to travel down his arms and Arthur knows the magic’s flowing up Merlin’s forearms to his fingers because Arthur can feel the heat from it in the clutch at his shoulders. Suddenly, it cuts into Arthur’s skin where Merlin’s touching him and he can feel a tattoo begin there, a continuation of Merlin’s, like they are one body.

It sears him. Differently though, this time. It feels... Arthur’s eyes widen, watching Merlin’s mouth form the strange words. And he realises it’s not the old woman’s muttering that’s marking him.

Merlin’s eyes are gold, foreign as the words pour from his mouth. Arthur can feel the sting of magic -- Merlin’s magic -- scorch between his shoulder blades, twisting some shape Arthur can’t decipher.
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
Arthur presses his eyes closed and does everything he can to rein in the flood of desire he feels. It’s not that he hasn’t been with men, or even that he hasn’t once or twice indulged in a fantasy featuring Merlin -- it’s the intensity of the emotion he feels that overwhelms him now. Merlin like this, so comfortable with the power flowing from his fingertips, is disorienting. It’s like the whole world has shifted beneath Arthur’s feet and he’s left scrambling to keep his feet on the ground. The vertigo makes his stomach flip and if not for the familiarity in the soft look Merlin gives him now that his eyes are blue again, Arthur doesn't know how he’d handle this.

“It is done,” the old woman pronounces and she hobbles to standing, leaning heavily on her cane. Two Elders rush to her side and help her turn away from them. The clearing fills with murmurs as the druids break the circle and begin to disappear into the trees.

It’s Merlin who helps Arthur back into his cloak, tying it off with trembling fingers before covering himself. Arthur stands motionless through it all, part furious and part exhilarated now that the pain’s fading. His skin is hot and tight beneath the rough druid wool.

Merlin says nothing. He must see in the stubborn set of Arthur’s jaw that says Arthur’s had enough of being on display because he grabs Arthur’s elbow and directs him to a tent hidden in a thick copse.

As soon as they’re inside, Merlin waves his hand and a lantern bursts to life. Arthur’s about to make a comment about laziness to redirect from his own startled awe when Merlin rounds on him.

“What did you do?” Merlin demands, tugging at his hair in frustration as though he hasn’t just stolen Arthur’s line.

“What do mean? You know more than I do about what happened back there.”

Merlin’s pacing, though there’s only room for three steps, back and forth in the small tent. “That’s my point!”

“Merlin, you are making in less sense than usual.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Very nice. We are bonded now, you know.” Merlin grabs his shoulders like he had during the ritual, touching him boldly as though he has every right to manhandle the King of Camelot.

Arthur glares, usually it’s enough to set Merlin back in his place. Instead, Merlin’s fingers curl and it’s like they are slotting into place. The tattoo on his back flares hot and Arthur sees stars.

“The messes you get into,” Merlin mutters and captures Arthur’s gaping mouth in a kiss.
From: [identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com
Merlin’s hands are everywhere, his fingers dancing over Arthur’s too sensitive skin, excruciating and perfect. The touch brings back the pain, pleasure mix Arthur felt earlier and he’s aching with want. It’s Arthur who reaches to untie their cloaks, not bothering to break the kiss to tug at Merlin’s sloppy knot. Their feet tangle as the heavy material twists around their ankles. Merlin’s waist is narrow, hip bones sharp handles for Arthur’s calloused thumbs as he begins to memorise every inch of skin.

“You let them shave you,” Merlin says, quiet enough Arthur can barely hear him. His hand slides over Arthur’s hairless chest like he hasn’t touched Arthur a thousand times before today. His fingers graze the silver lines left by the Questing beast so many years ago and then lower until his thumb flicks Arthur’s nipple.

They tumble onto the bed and the friction is all wrong. It’s too slick and smooth; they catch on angles but not the coarseness of hair. He has Merlin trapped beneath him, and there’s a blur of pale skin and black marks. Arthur will take the time to look properly, later. He presses his body down until they’re slick and warm, skin on skin. Merlin’s hands on Arthur’s arse urge him on until
they grind against each other and the slide of their hairless groins picks up a feral rhythm.

Magic crackles around them. Arthur’s skin is alive with it, with Merlin’s magic, as their bodies arch into each other and Arthur cries out, shuddering. Merlin’s grip tightens, holding him through it, rolling his hips in ugent jittery ruts, drawing out Arthur’s pleasure, until Merlin too goes taut.

Arthur buries his nose in the soft, damp hair at Merlin’s nape and inhales the scent of campfire and fresh sweat. While Merlin’s still gasping, Arthur whispers into his skin.

“I don’t regret this,” he says, and maybe it’s too low for Merlin to hear, but the words spill out like they’re important. “I won’t regret it.”

They’re silent for a moment, listening to their own heartbeats and the din of the forest around them. Merlin tugs at his hair until Arthur lifts his head to meet Merlin’s eyes, and he reaches for Arthur’s hand.

He keeps his gaze on Arthur as he presses his lips to the symbol at Arthur’s wrist, Emrys; their destiny’s now inseparable.


{and done... will be cleaning up and reposting soon. Thanks for reading!}

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