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I'm working on coding up my big rec-list and am now wanting, desperately to do this meme. SO WE SHALL. Because I'm done with PTHON and my betas have all my fic (lovely people that they are to put up with my grammar) and so there is nothing for me to do. I stole this from [ profile] leashy_bebes.

Pick one of my stories and a timestamp sometime in the future after the end of the story, or sometime in the past before the story started, and I'll write you at least a hundred words of what happened then, whether it's five minutes before the story started or ten years in the future. Can be from any character POV (i.e anyone in the fic).

You can find my masterlist can be found right here.

♥ Play with me? ♥

♥ Heartbeats: a bit in the future.

♥ Picture Maker: Spain Road Trip.

♥ Picture Maker: Just before Merlin's second collection.

♥ Heartbeats: Prequel: first time.

♥ The Sexual Education of Bradley James: Morning Sex.

♥ Give and Take: When it's not okay.

♥ The One Where Gwaine Gets Cockblocked by Destiny: after. when he gets some.

♥ Shameless: after, when eames gets revenge.

♥ Breeches: after, where there's comeplay.

♥ Heartbeats: Prequel: first time.

Date: 2011-06-16 07:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
AHHH. What happens after 'Heartbeats'? Um, anything in the future? Because, seriously, med student + Merlin/Arthur is the best combination ever. :D

Date: 2011-06-16 07:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Merlin lets himself into the on call room as silently as he can. He's got a bit of a break, only thirty minutes but it's enough time for—

"Bugger off," Arthur's sleep-grumpy voice says in the darkness when Merlin knees on the cot. "M'sleeping."

"It's just me, you wanker," he whispers.

Arthur doesn't reply but he doesn't protest either, when Merlin calmly shoves him back and climbs onto the narrow mattress with him. He smells like sleep and stale coffee—it smells lovely and Merlin inhales, burying his face in Arthur's scrubs.

Strong arms flop around him, one hand going to his hair and the other pushing away cloth until—there, Arthur's hand settles against the skin of his hip and Merlin sighs. Yes, that feels lovely.

"You smell like vomit," Arthur mumbles.

"Shut it. It's my round in pediatrics."

"Hmm, disgusting."

But Merlin doesn't find out if it's children or the smell of them that Arthur finds repulsive because Arthur's snoring, clutching at Merlin as if he's a stuffed toy—already soothed back to sleep. Merlin smiles, pressing his face into Arthur's chest. Stealing some time here, in the muted quiet of the hospital's on-call room is not ideal but it is time and it's ridiculously precious. Now that Merlin's moved in—well, his boxes are piled up in the living room at least—it feels like they have less time together because they expected more and were wrong.

The thing is, Merlin wouldn't change it for the world.

He squirms until he can get both hands in front of him and pushes the button on his watch. It glows in the space between them. Merlin carefully places his hand over Arthur's heart and listens, counting the thu-denthu-den of his blood until he too falls asleep.

Date: 2011-06-16 07:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
holy fuck, this is awesome. you are awesome.


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Date: 2011-06-16 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, this is fabulous! I'd love to read more from Picture Maker - maybe the roadtrip to Spain? Though anything with the boys being adorable and Merlin taking pictures would be brilliant. I love that story! :D

Date: 2011-06-16 08:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Road to Spain

Arthur blinks awake. He hardly has to remind himself that he's in the back of a van, piloted by Will (that is to say, driven recklessly and without care for law or order or life), on his way through the Spanish countryside because it's all apparent when he wakes with something very wet sliding down the space between his arse cheeks. He was wearing pants before. He's sure of it.

"What—" He twists around and almost falls on his face because the van isn't exactly moving in a linear direction. "Merlin," he hisses, but Merlin only smiles, eyes glazed over as he looks up from where he's most definitely planning to give Arthur the rimming of his life.

Merlin has this face, this face that says: No, I don't give a single fuck about your sense of decorum or dignity or hygiene because I need you now and you love me, so give me what I want.

Arthur sees this face a lot.

"Shh," Merlin moans spreading Arthur's cheeks apart and rubbing his face along the space that's exposed. Arthur flushes, his cock impossibly hard with embarrassment and affection and—fuck, what the hell is Merlin thinking?

"Merlin, the models are right there," Arthur whispers, choking on his moan when Merlin flicks his tongue against Arthur's too sensitive hole. He's beat red with embarrassment now, at the fact that he can see the models pretending to sleep as they watch Merlin take advantage of him, right there, on the van's filthy interior carpet.

He can't seem to say 'no' though because, Christ, Merlin know how much Arthur loves this—how much he's been a little lonely with all these people around and no time for just the two of them—how any minute, Arthur feels like he's going to snap and kill Will in a fit of outrage because if they stop one more time for a drug deal or something equally as ridiculous, Arthur's going to call the police himself, just to get them deported back to merry old England.

But not, not now, when Merlin's making slippery and sloppy sounds as he works his tongue into Arthur's hole without mind. He stops every once in a while, when Arthur's moans get too loud and nuzzles at the hole with his nose, pressing chaste kisses and spreading Arthur wider.

"Merlin, you have to stop," Arthur sobs.

Merlin looks up, eyes glinting. "No," he says, leaning back into suck at Arthur's loose, greedy and so sensitive hole. "I don't think I will stop anything."

So he doesn't and that's how Arthur gets rimmed in the middle of Spain with five anorexic models pretending not to watch as Merlin fucks his hole until he comes, rubs himself off on Arthur's calf and then makes Will stop at the next MacDonald's.

Yes, Arthur thinks dazedly, cradling a sleeping Merlin in his lap, ketchup smeared across his face, I really do hate these hipsters-freaks

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Date: 2011-06-16 08:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I would love to see a timestamp sometime in the future for The Picture Maker. Um. Anything really. I want to live in that verse so bad &hearts (I am so unspecific and unhelpful)

Date: 2011-06-16 08:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
You have to be a bit more specific love. Up above, I did the Spaintrip. What else would you like?

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Date: 2011-06-16 08:46 pm (UTC)
ext_19057: (Default)
From: [identity profile]
I want Heartbeats prequel :DD I want uhm oh I want too much actually ugh ugh T_T first meeting, or maybe a short little scene on the lights-off-vanilla-sexing, maybe a first time or something? :)

Date: 2011-06-16 09:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
First time:

The first time Arthur saw Merlin, they were both working A&E. Arthur hated trauma. The only thing worse than A&E was Clinic, so Arthur was in a wretched mood. Morgana had already threatened to stab him with a dirty syringe if he didn't knock it off.

That was, of course, when he saw Merlin. He was walking by when he noticed how animatedly a little girl was speaking, her leg wide open as delicate hands sewed up a large, gaping wound. When he peered in, he saw Merlin, who was speaking with a wide smile as to distract the girl from the uncomfortable, albeit numb, fact that her leg was being stitched up. It was cute but it was much, much more than that. Merlin's fingers were so long, fragile looking and dancing in the intricate pattern of the needing—so beautiful and restrained and... something had lodged in Arthur's chest thing, a desire that seemed to shake the very foundation he was built on.

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Date: 2011-06-16 08:52 pm (UTC)
ext_19057: (Merlin: Bradley yum yum)
From: [identity profile]
I can go twice, right? .__.

I want more in the rimming!verse (The Sexual Education of Bradley James.) I basically want ooooh so much smutty things

I either want Bradley fingering himself or thiiis: "The first thing Bradley does is the morning is press his very round, very fit arse into Colin's crotch and rub with tiny little swivels of his hips until Colin wakes up enough to fuck him properly."


Have I told you that I love you for writing this fic lately, by the way? BECAUSE I DO
Edited Date: 2011-06-16 08:52 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-06-16 10:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Rimming Verse

Bradley wakes first, fuck, he always wakes first and it's bloody frustrating. He's hard, leaking already across his stomach because Colin's naked. Bradley can't help it, all right? It's some sort of Pavlovian response. He sees Colin naked and his arse gets greedy.

It's magic or something.

Bradley stares for a bit, watching Colin sleep on his stomach, hiding away his precious cock like he's guarding it—like Bradley might steal it away. And well, he's not wrong. Bradley doesn't want to steal it, he just wants to use it's powers for good and not evil.


Bradley stares and stares until he can't help it anymore, sliding a finger into his arse and gasping a little at the filling. It feels so good that he grinds down and opens up until he's fully seated and most definitely playing with himself. He doesn't know if it's Colin's magical cock or maybe if he just has more nerves in his arse than everybody arse, but Bradley aches for arse-play, like, it drives him to distraction. Every time he forgets his lines? It isn't because he's thinking of football, okay? It's because he's thinking about being bent over and stuffed full of anything, preferably Colin's cock.

Bradley's working himself into a frenzy, two fingers deep and trying to be careful when he thrusts down on his fingers when Colin wakes.

"How many fingers do you have inside ya?"

Bradley blinks through his haze of arousal. "You know I can't understand a fuckin' think you say in the morning," he whines, rolling over to shimmy his arse in Colin's general direction. "You're all Irish in the morning."

Colin laughs and it's really hot, so Bradley just bucks back and wiggles his arse, stilled stuffed with his fingers, near Colin's crotch.

"You awake?"


"Hurry up, yeah?" Bradley gasps as he hits his prostate. "I need to be fucked."

Colin doesn't laugh this time, just slides his finger in with Bradley's and say, "Oh, yes, you most certainly do."

At least that's what Bradley thinks he says. He's a bit distracted.

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Date: 2011-06-16 09:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I just realised how much awesomeness you've written and I haven't read most of them. I shall remedy that this weekend!

So ... a prequel to "Give and Take"? Something concerning: "She had wanted to say; but what about when you're not okay? and lately she's been wanting to ask; but what about Bradley?"

Date: 2011-06-16 11:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
(I'm so excited to see what you think. I can't imagine you being that behind. I don't have that much stuff posted. ♥ )

Bad Days

They fight about it somedays.

Somedays, it's hard and Colin doesn't like it but part of him knows that if it was easy, if this wasn't was it was, then he wouldn't want it. Here, when Bradley's angry and scared and Colin is defensive and vulnerable—here is where he knows that he wants this, that he wants Bradley.

"Don't even start!"

Colin throws his hands up in the air. "What? What, Bradley? Don't start what exactly?"

"Oh, fuck you," Bradley snarls out, taking off his jacket like its the one he's mad at. "Don't act like you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"It's just to keep appearances, you twat! You know that, so why the fuck—"

Bradley's face is flushed, embarrassed and irrationally angry, his eyes so bright and wild that Colin wonders if they'll fight all night or fuck instead.

"Because you're my boyfriend and you're flirting with women to satisfy bloody ratings, like anyone gives two fucks that we're gay for each other," Bradley says, voice gone broken but still sharp around the edges. "You're my boyfriend and you make me happy and this is just a fucking game to you."

Colin closes his eyes. It is hard. This is too difficult to maintain sometimes be all the things they're supposed to be—all the things they are and then, well, then be in love as well.

"It's not a game," Colin says, slipping to his knees and kissing Bradley's shaking, clasped hands. "I don't know what I'm doing any more than you do. I'm sorry. It was stupid, tonight, that was stupid. I don't know what I did it."

"God, Colin," he says and Colin just nods, waiting for Bradley to do something. Some nights, Bradley just walks out and the figure it out in the morning or in a couple of days but tonight, he slides his hands away, letting Colin's head fall to fit in his lap.

"Sometimes," Colin mumbles into Bradley's jeans, "sometimes I'm not okay with any of it and I just... I get so angry, Bradley—for hurting you, for putting us through this, for ever doing anything outside this stupid hotel room."

And then Bradley's fingers and combing through Colin's hair, making little cooing and shushing noises, like Colin's the one who needs comforting. Colin just breathes until his chest stops being tight and he feels less like he's going to lose it all, go to pieces right here on his knees—for Bradley, for Bradley he'd do it.

"It'll be all right, Cols," he says. "It'll be fine."

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From: [identity profile] - Date: 2011-06-17 04:56 pm (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2011-06-16 10:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
How about some time in the future for The One Where Gwaine Gets Cockblocked by Destiny? Maybe one time he doesn't get cockblocked?

Date: 2011-06-17 12:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

He watches them now, looking for signs that he might have missed before but he sees nothing but their friendship in the light of day. He doesn't spend anymore time sneaking around in cupboards, although he's sorely tempted just for another glimpse of Merlin like that. He holds off though and slowly, after Merlin confesses his magic and they begin the reform, the ache for Merlin begins to fade.

They've set up camp near the Mercia border, gathered around the roar of the fire as the long day fades into a longer night. Gwaine watches, eyes on Merlin as he jokes with the knights and tends to Arthur—nothing amiss or lecherous about their interaction but yet, it's intimate as ever.

"You get used to it."

Gwaine looks up to see Leon settling on the log next to him.


Leon nods to where Merlin is lecturing Arthur about mending. "You get used to not getting what you want," he says, matter-a-factly.

Gwaine frowns. "I suspect that will never be the case."

"Merlin is a fine lad," Leon goes on, "but he's not the only one and he's certainly occupied, isn't he?"

Gwaine opens his mouth to retort but Leon's gaze is heavy and, actually quite nice. It's steady, familiar but also relatively soft in the fire-light. Gwaine raises an eyebrow.

"Is that right? More fine lads than just Merlin in these lands?"

Leon's eyes twinkle in the light. "Less baggage," Leon goes on, "more experience."

Gwaine thinks about Merlin's thighs and his magic, thrusting into Arthur—he thinks about he power there and then he laughs. "Well, I'm not so sure about that," he says, licking his lips fairly deliberately, just to make sure.

Leon's eyes track the movement and Gwaine smiles.

"Shall we find out?" Leon says, standing before Gwaine can answer.

He looks back across the fire, where Merlin is now smiling softly, while Arthur tells a story. It's true, it's not overt—this affair of theirs—but maybe that's because it's always been there, simply a fact of life that is molded to their personalities.

When Gwaine turns back, he follows Leon back to his tent, eyes fixed on Leon's reasonably tempting arse.

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Date: 2011-06-16 10:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Shameless, bb! That one ended so amazingly promisingly! =D

Date: 2011-06-17 12:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Arthur fulfills his promise.

But he underestimates Eames' tactical revenge. Somedays, it doesn't really annoy Eames that everyone thinks he's just a simpleton—just a thief.

It makes the victory sweeter.

When he seats himself on Arthur's cock, the man below him already looks murderous and the sight, the glint of his eyes and the set of his jaw, makes Eames moan. He still a little sloppy from before and so he doesn't waste anytime riding Arthur, pushing down on his slick cock and fucking himself at whatever pace he damn-well choses. Arthur tries to buck and flail but he's not really match for Eames' bulky weight. Eames changes his paces, knowing how much that annoys little-ol-Arthur, watching as his face angers and reddens with it.

"Smug bastard," Eames says, a little breathless as he grinds on Arthur's cock, enjoying the easy fuck since his hole is stretch and dripping a little around Arthur's cock. "Are you happy to be right, love? Happy to know that my panties were soaked with you come all day?"

Eames smirks, moaning through it when the angle hits deep enough to press incessantly on his prostate. Arthur, doesn't look happy at all. He looks as if he's physically in pain with the pleasure and isn't that just wonderful?

"How does it taste?"

Arthur doesn't answer but his eyes flash dangerously and Eames laughs, jerking back onto Arthur's cock and riding him faster, harder, so that he's practically bobbing up and down a little ridiculously.

There's a frustrated sound, that Eames is fairly sure come from Arthur and Eames clenches. Arthur's eye twitches.

"Have something to say?"

Eames leans down, presses his mouth to Arthur's and licks the fabric there. He bites but doesn't take the wad of fabric that used to be Eames' pants and were now shoved into Arthur's mouth like a ballgag.

"How much do you love it, pet," Eames says, settling into an angle that is perfect. "How much do you fancy the taste of your own come on my panties?"

With that, they both come and it's fucking amazing.

Eames feels the too-slick slide of come inside him and fuck, fuck, fuck, it's all very, much worth it.

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From: [identity profile] - Date: 2011-06-17 07:10 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2011-06-16 11:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Breeches, omfg. You have NO IDEA what that fic does to me, or how often I reread it >.>

In your own words - WHAT NOW? Tell me what happens when they finally get away from the delegation.

Date: 2011-06-17 12:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

That night, Arthur sat on his bed and enjoyed Merlin, however he please. The delegation from the North was tedious and idiotic and consumed the whole of his day. Merlin had stood, sulky and despondent, which cheered Arthur a little, knowing that his servant was moody because he was being denied a tumble and instead had to endure several meetings with come splattered breeches.

Merlin's breeches were just as distracting, knowing that the stain on his leg wasn't from the wine jug he'd 'spilt' but because he had spilled his seed just from choking on Arthur's cock—how Merlin had come just from Arthur's pleasure.

That night, Arthur had sat Merlin against the headboard and looped his hands behind his back. That night, Arthur had tied Merlin's wrists together so he could slowly stroke Merlin's cock without interference. He went slow, coaxing Merlin's seed out of him, until he leaked and dripped down his shaft to slick the way for Arthur's hand. He'd stroke him until Merlin was crying out, bucking his hips and pleading, then Arthur would back off, suck on Merlin's pert nipple and wait for the urge to come to back away.

That night, Arthur jerked Merlin's cock, watching the seemingly endless stream of come dribble out the top, not letting him come and just feeding the pre-come to him. He watched as Merlin's eyes widened as Arthur carefully gathered up the pearly strains of white-seed and smeared it over Merlin's lips, traced it along his teeth and coated his tongue, fucking Merlin's mouth with the taste of his own come.

When Merlin finally came inside Arthur's mouth, sobbing with relief, as his cock jerked and spat all over Arthur's tongue—when Merlin finally came, Arthur fed him that too. He gathered it all on his tongue and pushed it into Merlin's slick mouth because Merlin deserved to know that he tasted just as good.

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Date: 2011-06-17 01:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hmm, what about in Boyfriend? Like them on boxing day in ireland being all cute and nervous and shit.

Date: 2011-06-17 02:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
TEENAGE DREAM. idk sometime in their future or any time in between. just tell me more about Merlin's hole and i'll be happy.

Date: 2011-06-17 03:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh wow, thank you for being so organized! I'm LOVING these, wow wow wow! I am nearly too tired to think, so I'm going to come back to these lovely bits of loveliness tomorrow when my eyes are blurry lol.

Date: 2011-06-17 03:20 pm (UTC)
ext_135179: (Merlin - Arthur mouth)
From: [identity profile]
Reeeccccsssss. *wants*

Are you still playing this game? If so, can I cheat a little? Missed Connections, anytime you like, but Arthur's POV.

Date: 2011-06-17 04:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm probably too late, but...

You know what I want:

Shark (Ghost of a Shark)

during filming of Trek XIII

ps: I... want to podfic that story. Would that be okay?

Date: 2011-06-18 05:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*leers and reaches for strap on*

...Oh, you probably meant the meme, yes? Right. "Teenage Dreams", when everyone (or at least someone) loses their hole virginity, please.


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