Title: Seek and Find
Summary: Gwen and Morgana end a game of hide-and-seek in their own way.
Disclaimer: All characters property of the BBC.
Word Count: ~639
Author's Notes: Written for the Gwen/Morgana kiss meme ♥
"Gwen, where are you?" Morgana laughed like a child as she weaved her way through the trees, her voice seeming to echo all over the wood.
Gwen flattened herself against a tree and listened to it, her head buzzing pleasantly with the wine Arthur had brought from the party before he'd suggested that they all hide from each other, for... whatever reason. They'd made their escape from the feast, and tearing through the wood like children had seemed the best thing to do from there.
Neither Gwen nor Merlin had been in the position to object, and from the gleeful look on Merlin's face, he hadn't particularly wanted to anyway. Morgana had made a cursory objection having to do with the possibility of her dress being ruined, but everyone knew how much she really cared about that.
Their responsibilities and duties seemed far away for a least a little while; perhaps that was reason enough. Besides, Gwen thought, Morgana had the loveliest laugh, and she didn't hear it often enough lately.
"I don't think I'm supposed to tell you," Gwen called back, then clapped a hand to her mouth as she was pretty sure she she'd given away her position. Still, she continued, "You're supposed to find me."
"This game is silly," Morgana declared, but laughed again as she crept closer to Gwen. "And I haven't seen Arthur or Merlin for ages."
A thud and some muffled voices sounded through the trees not so far away. "Perhaps they've found each other," Gwen said, her face heating as she ducked away from Morgana before she could be discovered as well.
"Sounds like you're right," Morgana said dryly, adding, "Men. Blast it, Guinevere, where are you?"
Gwen knew the woods a bit better than her mistress, but suddenly being found seemed a better option, and she stepped from behind a mossy tree just in time for Morgana to blunder right into her, both arms outstretched.
"Oh!" Morgana laughed again and righted herself, her hands shaping Gwen's shoulder and the dip of her waist in the dark. Neither of them moved. "Finished hiding from me, are you?"
"Perhaps you're better at this than you thought," Gwen said graciously, but she couldn't conceal the amusement in her voice.
"Somehow I feel less than victorious," Morgana replied, her hand slipping down from Gwen's shoulder and past her collarbone to where her heart beat thick and fast. "Well," Morgana said slowly, sounding out the word as if she'd made the most fascinating discovery.
"Yes, well," Gwen began when she'd found her voice, glad she couldn't quite see Morgana's knowing look. "It was ...very exciting."
"Mm." Morgana's spread fingers curled, gripping the fabric at Gwen's bodice and above her hip. "What shall I do now I've found you?"
"You'd, uhm," Gwen swallowed, "you'd have to ask Arthur. It's his game."
"Arthur sounds busy," Morgana said practically. "We'll have to improvise."
"My lady -- we should --" But Gwen couldn't think of anything. Not a thing.
Morgana's fingers trailed up her neck, her lips ghosted along her jaw, and it was a moment before Gwen could form another thought. "I think we should do this."
"If it please you," Gwen murmured, swaying closer.
Morgana eased back slightly, not liking that answer. "Does it please you?"
It was already pleasing her, but Gwen focused on Morgana, her eyes adjusting to the low moonlight until she could make out her mistress' expression. Gwen moved her hands to Morgana's waist and turned so that Morgana was pressed against the cool, mossy bark of the tree.
"It would," Gwen whispered, raising up to her toes and touching her lips to Morgana's. She heard someone's breath catch and then Morgana's hand was on her face, cupping, stroking, her other hand bunching in Gwen's bodice. Gwen's lips parted on a sigh and their tongues slipped past each other, warm and wet and sweet with wine.
It pleased them both, very much.
Summary: Morgana surprises Gwen at work. Modern AU.
Disclaimer: All characters property of the BBC.
Word Count: ~590
Author's Notes: Written for the Oct. 17 party at camelot_fleet. miakun prompted me with "coveralls", which of course led to its logical conclusion.
Morgana was pretty certain that Gwen hadn't been trying to kill her. For one thing, she hadn't been expecting Morgana to come by and for another, it was hot enough that shedding a layer of clothing was a natural reaction. None of this changed the fact that walking into the shop to find Gwen leaning over the engine compartment of a vintage Cadillac, the sleeves of her drab grey coveralls tied loosely at her hips, sweat shimmering on her skin and dampening her thin cotton tank top, nearly stopped Morgana's heart.
She dropped her bag on her floor and Gwen raised her head at the sound, glancing over her shoulder. The surprise and pleasure had barely moved over Gwen's face before Morgana was at her back, pressing her face into Gwen's neck. "Christ," she breathed, gripping Gwen's waist.
"I'm filthy," Gwen murmured by way of a greeting, but Morgana only pressed closer and slipped her hand beneath the hem of the cotton tank top so she could spread her fingers over damp, warm skin. Gwen gasped as Morgana caught her earlobe between her teeth.
"You smell amazing," Morgana whispered - it was true; she smelled of sweat and soap and hot metal, and just Gwen. Gwen's incredulous laugh ended on a gasp as Morgana's hand slid higher, high enough to brush the underside of Gwen's breast. On an impatient whimper, Gwen tried to twist around and face her, but Morgana held her waist tight with her other arm.
"I like the way you look bent over like this," Morgana continued almost conversationally, as she flicked her thumb against Gwen's nipple, "I was planning on taking you out for dinner, but I think food can wait."
Gwen only groaned and leaned forward enough to brace her grease-smudged hand against the edge of the engine compartment, gripping the metal. Morgana followed, her hair falling forward and sticking to Gwen's skin as she bent close and licked at Gwen's neck. She waited until Gwen was squirming back against her before she slicked her hand beneath the coveralls and inside damp knickers to find her already wet. She smiled against Gwen's neck and skirted her clit with a fingertip.
"Morgana!" Gwen bucked her hips, straining against Morgana's fingers and gripping at the edge of the car with both hands now. The light touch wasn't enough to make her come and they both knew it, but Morgana was content to tease Gwen for now, to tease those little mewling sounds from her throat.
Gwen dropped her head and shuddered as Morgana dipped a finger inside her; Morgana pressed kisses to the base of her neck, to the dark curls sticking to her damp skin.
"Please," Gwen rasped, and Morgana scraped her teeth against the shell of Gwen's ear as she moved her fingers faster and harder. Gwen arched her back and threw back an arm, her fingers grasping Morgana's jaw, dirt and grease from the engine smearing her skin. She came hard on Morgana's fingers, moaning and writhing and beautiful, and Morgana moaned as she pressed open-mouthed kisses to her shoulder.
"Christ," Morgana said again, more than a little breathless herself.
"Yeah," Gwen said as she caught her breath, turning finally to face Morgana. Her coveralls hung even lower on her hips, her top was rumpled and out of place, and her skin bloomed with sweat as she lifted a hand to trace the dirt stains on Morgana's face. "You do know dinner's going to wait a little while longer."
Morgana only grinned and let Gwen take her revenge.
Title: Nowhere Else
Summary: Gwen and Morgana break away from a banquet.
Disclaimer: All characters property of the BBC.
Word Count: ~1100
Author's Notes: Written for the the Femslash kink meme at gwenmorganabbc for glimmergirl, who requested sex while fully clothed.
Gwen reckons that Morgana spends much of her days wishing she were someplace else, doing something else. She doesn't think Morgana knows what that something is any more than she does, but the restlessness is there all the same. It's there when she wakes with visions still swirling in her eyes, or when she reads from the book Merlin gave her, fingers moving almost reverently over the pages. And always when she sits idle with her embroidery, or entertains the other ladies of the realm, or reads letters from the men who would court her, if she let them.
It isn't so evident to other people, and Gwen doubts she'd even notice it herself if she hadn't been at Morgana's side since they were little, sensing her moods and anticipating her needs. It scares Gwen a little that there are some needs she'll never be able to meet, and some places she can't follow. It scares them both, she thinks.
So, on the nights when Morgana reaches for her, hands moving swiftly over her skin to draw her close and keep her there, Gwen clings back just as tightly.
It's that undefinable restlessness that Gwen senses from Morgana tonight, watching her sit at the royal table, lifting a goblet mechanically to her lips as celebrations surge around her. Her free hand moves on the wooden surface of the table, fingers tracing shapes Gwen doesn't understand. Their eyes meet across the room and Gwen feels her mistress' gaze as solidly as a touch.
For Morgana, one banquet is just like any other. The hours of tedium and small talk all blend together. It's even more true for Gwen, always standing on the fringes and waiting to attend where needed. So when Morgana gets to her feet and leaves the great hall, Gwen isn't surprised, nor does she hesitate, giving Merlin an apologetic glance that he answers with a shrug and a bemused sort of smile. She ducks her head and follows her lady from the room.
They fall into step with each other in the near-empty corridor and Gwen says nothing, only heading in the direction of Morgana's chambers, which are high up in the castle. When they turn the corner leading to the staircase and find themselves quite alone, she turns to Morgana, reaching for her hand.
"My lady," she whispers, and thinking they both need it, raises up to her toes and kisses her. She feels more than hears Morgana's shaky breath as they pull apart and she approaches the stairs.
"No," Morgana stops and squeezes Gwen's hand, pulling her back toward an alcove, "Gwen. Here."
Feeling herself flush, Gwen looks up and down the short corridor, hesitating only a moment before she nods and they step into the shadows. There's barely enough room here to conceal them both, but they don't need a lot of space for this, not once Morgana presses Gwen against the wall. Gwen feels cool stone behind her through her dress and tunic, and Morgana's breasts crushed against her own. Her breath comes more quickly with anticipation.
Wasting no time, Morgana catches her mouth in a kiss, urgent and hot and full of restless energy, and Gwen whimpers before she can remember how quiet they need to be. She tightens her hands on Morgana's hips as she returns the kiss, her fingers gathering and bunching in the silk.
It'll wrinkle, she thinks, and doesn't care.
She drags her mouth away from Morgana's to kiss her way down her neck. The skin is warm and soft and when she flicks her tongue against the spot just below her ear, Morgana gasps.
Morgana's hold on her loosens, then Gwen feels her mistress' hand beneath her bodice, quick fingers finding her breasts and touching until Gwen has to muffle a moan against her shoulder.
"My lady," she says again, breathless as she drags Morgana's skirts up, impatient. "Morgana."
"Shh," Morgana whispers as she unlaces Gwen's bodice, baring more skin, but not enough. In the dark, Gwen feels Morgana's warm, wet mouth, kissing and licking her way over the swell of her breast. When the fabric stops her from going further, she lifts her head and their lips meet again in a kiss that's much more clumsy than the first.
She doesn't remember when or how Morgana pulled her skirts up, but suddenly she can feel those quick fingers on the inside of her thigh and wishes there were enough room for them to slide down to the floor. Her legs do a poor enough job keeping her upright as it is. Morgana deftly slides her knee between Gwen's, and Gwen realises she's still got Morgana's skirts bunched in her hands. She lets them go and feels the silk gather at the places where their legs touch, slippery-soft against the skin.
Gwen can't help but move then, hips shifting to increase the friction against Morgana's cleverly-placed leg, and she feels Morgana rocking against her as well. They don't have much time, but once Morgana's fingers reach the apex of her thighs, she doesn't think this will take very long.
She moans again, the breathy sound not quite stifled against Morgana's mouth, and moves her hand beneath the silk to touch Morgana where she's slick and hot and familiar. Soon her hand is caught tight between her own leg and Morgana's frantic, rocking hips.
It goes very quickly from there.
Gwen tenses as the speed and pressure of Morgana's circling fingers becomes too much, and she can only hope that no one hears the cry she makes when she comes, shuddering and hearing her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Morgana keeps grinding against her, moving with an urgency and abandon that only Gwen ever gets to see.
"Please," Morgana whispers, her voice low and hoarse with lust, and Gwen inches her hand lower to slide a finger inside. Morgana rocks against her one more time before she comes with a low groan that makes Gwen feel even more unsteady on her legs.
Once they both stop shaking and their skin begins to cool, they step apart, giving each other just enough room to re-arrange their clothes, for all the good it will do. It's not as if they're going back to the banquet, anyway.
Morgana kisses Gwen one more time and backs out of the alcove first, until she's awash in torchlight, looking wrinkled and disheveled and beautiful. Gwen finishes doing up her bodice and follows her out into the still-empty corridor. Morgana holds Gwen's hand tightly in hers as they ascend the stairs leading to her chambers. She looks back at Gwen with a glint in her eye, bright and mischievous and so familiar that Gwen could weep, and Gwen knows that for now, there's nowhere else Morgana would rather be.