Eʟɪᴢᴀʙᴇᴛʜ Tᴜᴅᴏʀ, ℚᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏғ Eɴɢʟᴀɴᴅ (
commandsthewind) wrote2013-01-05 11:18 pm
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Entry tags:
corset lacings;
ii. arthur pendragon x elizabeth tudor -- corsets (i wear my diamonds on skid row)
"Arthur. My love and lord," it was meant to sound honey sweet, but only came out frustrated, "either help me get the blasted thing on, or cease and desist." She fiddled at the laces, trying to get them done up. To concentrate on getting dressed. He could of been useful, for once, could of helped her find the right place for the cord. But no, he just was intent to let her do it by herself.
Made harder to do when his hand was braced against her neck. Warm. His hands were always so warm. Just like the kisses he pressed behind her ear. So... distracting. So easy to give into the hand that slid around her waist and seemed to tug her back. Straight back to bed. Which, she might add, had been as great a battle as Argincourt to get out of this morning.
Apparently he just had a knack for picking the days when she was more than busy, she had lords banging on her door to get to attend them. Not that Arthur seemed to care much. Arthur -- him and his stupid strength, honestly -- just tugged her back into bed rather firmly, took a long deep breath against the back of her neck and was happy to go back to sleep like that. She couldn't get a scrap of affection most days. But when she had hours of parliament ahead of her, he decided he needed her like a dying man needed water.
Which wasn't letting up now either, tricked her when she squirmed her way out. He said he'd 'assist'. It's been at least half an hour, and she hadn't gotten more than her petticoats on. The ties of her corset wrapped around her fingers as she finished lacing it. "You are more hindrance then you are help."
"Consider it a lesson." His hands were moving again, resting on her hips, holding her close and no more. That was... alright. Not so difficult.
"A lesson in what, pray tell?"
"Why you need simpler dresses." He muffled her outrage at that with a kiss. Not that it was much of one, he was laughing too much. After a moment - just another moment, just to kiss him a little longer -- she broke it.
Then she pressed him back, palm flat over his chest, scowling at him furiously as she took the space to breath. "How is your inability to keep your hands to yourself a lesson about that, Arthur?"
"If you had simpler dresses, you'd be dressed already." His hands found his target, her corset lacings, and where she could only get them half as tight as they should be by herself, he pulled, and all the air went out of her lungs. Chest swelling with the deeper breath she drew in a way that he clearly appreciated, if she followed his gaze that far.
"Damn you--" she'd had it with him. She marched him straight back. Onto that bed and pinned him there. Kissing him because to hell with it, it at least shut him up and meant she didn't have to deal with his smirk. So clearly, the best way she could think of for teaching him his lesson, and if she ended up straddling him then so be it --
"Your Majesties!"
"What?!"
"Your presence is requested in --"
The messenger decided to leave it alone for a few hours when something heavy banged against the door.
("My Lady, what kept you this morning?" "I was in the middle of making that heir you insisted on, until we were interrupted. When this country falls due to issues of succession I am blaming you and this bloody grain tax." "... Oh.")
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"Arthur. My love and lord," it was meant to sound honey sweet, but only came out frustrated, "either help me get the blasted thing on, or cease and desist." She fiddled at the laces, trying to get them done up. To concentrate on getting dressed. He could of been useful, for once, could of helped her find the right place for the cord. But no, he just was intent to let her do it by herself.
Made harder to do when his hand was braced against her neck. Warm. His hands were always so warm. Just like the kisses he pressed behind her ear. So... distracting. So easy to give into the hand that slid around her waist and seemed to tug her back. Straight back to bed. Which, she might add, had been as great a battle as Argincourt to get out of this morning.
Apparently he just had a knack for picking the days when she was more than busy, she had lords banging on her door to get to attend them. Not that Arthur seemed to care much. Arthur -- him and his stupid strength, honestly -- just tugged her back into bed rather firmly, took a long deep breath against the back of her neck and was happy to go back to sleep like that. She couldn't get a scrap of affection most days. But when she had hours of parliament ahead of her, he decided he needed her like a dying man needed water.
Which wasn't letting up now either, tricked her when she squirmed her way out. He said he'd 'assist'. It's been at least half an hour, and she hadn't gotten more than her petticoats on. The ties of her corset wrapped around her fingers as she finished lacing it. "You are more hindrance then you are help."
"Consider it a lesson." His hands were moving again, resting on her hips, holding her close and no more. That was... alright. Not so difficult.
"A lesson in what, pray tell?"
"Why you need simpler dresses." He muffled her outrage at that with a kiss. Not that it was much of one, he was laughing too much. After a moment - just another moment, just to kiss him a little longer -- she broke it.
Then she pressed him back, palm flat over his chest, scowling at him furiously as she took the space to breath. "How is your inability to keep your hands to yourself a lesson about that, Arthur?"
"If you had simpler dresses, you'd be dressed already." His hands found his target, her corset lacings, and where she could only get them half as tight as they should be by herself, he pulled, and all the air went out of her lungs. Chest swelling with the deeper breath she drew in a way that he clearly appreciated, if she followed his gaze that far.
"Damn you--" she'd had it with him. She marched him straight back. Onto that bed and pinned him there. Kissing him because to hell with it, it at least shut him up and meant she didn't have to deal with his smirk. So clearly, the best way she could think of for teaching him his lesson, and if she ended up straddling him then so be it --
"Your Majesties!"
"What?!"
"Your presence is requested in --"
The messenger decided to leave it alone for a few hours when something heavy banged against the door.
("My Lady, what kept you this morning?" "I was in the middle of making that heir you insisted on, until we were interrupted. When this country falls due to issues of succession I am blaming you and this bloody grain tax." "... Oh.")
------