#v; prince of diamonds | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sarawritestories · 10 months ago

Text

My Beautiful Angel

Cassian X Plus Size Fem Reader

A/N: This was written with the song Beautiful by Bazzi and Camilla Cabelo basically on repeat.

Summary: Cassian comes home from a mission and Y/N is happy to see him. He insists that the IC goes to Rita's. Y/N finally wants to tell him her feelings to find that he's flirting heavily with the bartender and she leaves. The General follows ands clears the air

Content Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, P in V, Oral M receiving. Smut with little plot, Fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Masterlist

Sitting in the dining room eating my dinner alone, Azriel went to the townhouse to see if anyone needed anything, Cassian was out on a mission Rhys sent him out for last week. The house was lonely without those two stomping about and finding some petty thing to argue about, which always turned to them ganging up on me. I sigh thinking about how I miss Cassian, he hasn’t been out on a mission for this long since before the war. The way he wraps his arms around my soft stomach and pulls me close and always stays close during outings, especially with meetings from other courts.

I shake my head clearing my thoughts of the Illyrian general and dive back into the book Nesta let me borrow. Diving into a love story about a prince and a mermaid, the mermaid gaining legs during the day found her lover and he pressed her against the wall mouths colliding with a reverent fervor. I adjust in my seat trying to mask the arousal that is beginning. The prince’s hands roam down the mermaid’s body grazing across her slick center.

A warmth kissed the shell of my ear, “You know that’s going to rot your brain. Right.” The low rumble of Cassian’s voice jolted me from my seat, slamming my book shut. I stood up and was about to scold him for sneaking up on me but before I could he grabbed my waist and spun me around. When he stops, he pulls me close to his chest. “Oh, I missed you, Sweetheart,” He kisses the top of my head.

He puts me down and I smile patting his cheek, “I missed you too, Cass. How was your trip?”

He rolls his eyes, “A standard mission.” He wrapped me in his arms again, “I’m just happy to be home.” I wrap my arms around his waist and place my head on his chest. My heart skips at the contact I must remind myself that touch is one of the ways he shows love and that this isn’t him wanting to just take my scent in. “So, we’re celebrating my coming home by going to Rita’s.” That got me squirming out of his grasp, but he holds me tighter. “You’re coming, too.”

I groan and get out of his grasp, “But I wanted to finish my book tonight.” I grab my book and immediately it’s taken out of my hands. “Cassian!”

Cassian waves the book above his head and bends down to make eye contact with me, “You can get it back when we come tonight.” He gives me a shit eating grin that I want to slap right off. “Now, go get dressed and meet me back here so we can meet everyone at the Townhouse.” I glared at him, and I quickly try to jump and grab my book, but he stands to his full height, and I fall short. The general extends his arms to the hall leading to the bedrooms, and I stick my tongue out at him and head to my room to change.

I picked a silver silk gown that has thin straps and a corset back that accentuated my generous cleavage the bodice rouching to beginning the skirt had a slit that starts at my hip down as the skirt flows down to the floor it highlights the stretch marks on my thighs that I enjoy. I place my hair in soft curls pinned half my hair in a bun, letting the rest of my curls flow down. With a pair of heels that I laced around my ankle I make my way back to the dining hall, where I see Cassian with his hair down, black slacks and a white button up shirt that the top unbuttoned his chest tattoo peaking out. I give a low whistle, “Looking good, General.”

Cassian grins and looks up and his face falls into something I don’t recognize. His Hazel eyes graze down my body from the diamond choker around my neck to my dress and zeroes in on the slit of the skirt and his eyes darken, I wrap my arms around myself unintentionally pushing up my chest. “Something wrong, Sweetheart?” Cassian asks his voice sounds like he is gritting out the words.

I bite my lip, “I feel like with that look on your face I need to change, you know I think I will go do that.” I’m about to turn when a calloused hand grips my wrist.

“I’m so sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that dress, I’ve never seen it before.” He kisses my cheek, and I can feel the heat rushing to them. “You look beautiful.” He scoops me up in his arms and gives me a saccharine smile, “Ready?”

“The things I do to get my book back.” He pinches the pinches my side and I giggle, “Lead the way General, just don’t mess up my hair.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” And we take off into the skies.

Once we get to the house, I notice familiar shadows and I hop out of Cassian’s arms before his feet touch the ground. “Azriel!” I leap into his arms, and he laughs wrapping his arms around me.

“Brother, I think she gets lonely when we’re gone.” Az says to Cassian as he pulls away and looks at my outfit, “Y/N are you trying to get Males and Females on their knees tonight. You look ravishing.” A growl emits from somewhere but when I turn in that direction, Mor, Feyre and Cassian were beginning to walk towards Rita’s.

Rhys kisses my cheek, “What did he do to get you to come out? You hate going out to Rita’s?”

I meet his violet eyes and cross my arms, “He is keeping my book hostage.”

Azriel snorted. “Smart. I should try that.” I scowl at him, and he loops his arm in mine, “Come on, we’re going to make you earn that book back.”

The three of us finally met up with the rest of the group, the music in Rita’s thrumming in my ears. Mor flagged us down and Rhys says, “I’ll get the three of us drinks.” with that he walks over to the bar as Azriel, and I go and sit with out friends. A seat is open by Cassian and he pats the spot next to him. I sit and instantly Cassian splays a wing around me and he nudges his knee against mine and I give him a smile.

Rhys comes back with drinks and a round of shots for everyone once everyone has a shot glass in hand, “To Cass and Az coming home.” We all cheer and take our shot, a shiver racks down my spine from the burning sensation. I sip my drink and the drinks keep filtering to our table. After a few drinks, Mor grips my hand, “Come on hotstuff, we are dancing.”

I groan and face the General a playful smirk on his face, “You owe me.” He chuckled as Mor pulled me and Feyre to the dance floor. Once we reached the dance floor the music consumed me, and I let my body lose and began to sway my hips to the beat. Mor and Feyre were following my lead as we twirled and swayed, and I found myself laughing, enjoying myself and letting myself feel beautiful in my beautiful dress. I feel confident enough to tell Cassian how I feel.

“I’m so glad you came out tonight, even if Cassian had to keep your book hostage for it.” Mor yelled over loud music. I gave her a nod and a thumbs up in agreement.

After a few songs I make my way to the bar to grab water. Sweat coating my brow as I got closer to the bar, I saw Cassian and saw him laughing with the bar tender. I walk closer to him, and the bartender grips his face and presses her lips to hers. Shock runs through my system followed up with hurt.

Rhys, I’m going home, tired, tell everyone bye for me.

Rhys responded quickly, want me to take you home?

No, I’m going to walk. Thanks.

I sever the connection and make a bee line out the door. The cool breeze cooled my overheated skin. I cross my arms as bumps raise on my arms in response to the rapid chill and begin making my descent home. Thunder booms across the sky and one drop falls on my cheek, and another and the sky opens on a down pour. “I should have stayed home.” I murmured.

I feel dumb, I have always interpreted Cassian’s touches and actions as him being interested when Cassian has always shown his love through touch. I can’t help but let my worst insecurities rise to the surface, he was a general well trained, his body a weapon. My adventures only fell in books and stories told from my friends and I have seen the females Cassian has taken to bed and they are drop dead gorgeous with bodies of warriors. I have always carried more weight and I never have felt shame or ugly because of it but-

A firm hand grabs my arm and spins me around and I meet Cassian’s eyes. “I tried calling you like 3 times.” He shouts over the rain.

“Sorry. It’s just loud. What are you doing out here?

Cassian’s brow furrowed, “You left, Rhys didn’t say why. I was worried.”

I waved him off, “Don’t worry about me I was overheated and tired. Go back and have fun I’ll be good.” I turn once more but his grip on my arm tightens slightly, and I turn back, and his white shirt is completely see through his abs and tattoo on full display. “Cass.”

“It wasn’t because you saw the bartender Kiss me?” He asks to close the distance between us.

I shook my head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I look away from his gaze as his arm snakes around my waist. Neither one of us disturbed by being drenched in the rain.

“Sweetheart, I was blindsided by the kiss, her lips were not the one I wanted tonight.” He curls a finger under my chin and makes me face him, his eyes dark no hint of hazel.

“No?” I whisper.

Cassian smiles and highlights his chiseled tan face, and my knees feel weak, “No. I was hoping a vision in silver would kiss me.”

Oxygen flees from my lungs as I slide my hands up his chest, “Cass.”

“Y/N,” His hands glide down to my plump ass and digs his fingers in, and a gasp escapes my lips, “May I?”

I almost whimper, “Please.” He bends down and crashes his lips into mine. His lips wet and warm in contrast to the cold ran against my skin. He nips my bottom lip and I moan in his mouth as he squeezes my ass again. I pull away from him and he growls in protest as I kiss his nose and his eyes flutter shut, “Take me home, Cassian.”

Cassian eyes meet mine and there is playfulness there as he scoops me in his arms and launches into the skies. In mere moments we land on the balcony that leads to his room and he opens the doors and only when we are by his bed did, he set me down. The house closes the door and Cassian’s lips are on my again. His one hand grips the back of my neck, the other sneaks through the slit of my dress his knuckles grazing my bare center. He groans as he finds no underwear there and slides a finger in and I gasp, and Cassian takes it as an opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth. He begins to slide his finger in and out and Cassian moves his lips from mine and slides toward my neck and he adds a second finger.

“Cassian.” I moan as I lean my head back. His canines bite the tender flesh of neck and his thumb rubs my clit. I began moving my hips, meeting his pace in stride. “Mother spare me. I reach up and grab my breast to get more friction the cold rain already stiffening my nipples.

Cassian releases my neck with a pop and I his voice is lust filled, “Look at you, riding my fingers, wicked little thing, aren’t you.” He picks up his pace and circles his thumb on the sensitive bud and I move my hips in time with his fingers. “Come for me, Pretty girl.” He curls his fingers and I release a lewd moan as stars flicker on my vision as my release overtakes me. Cassian takes his fingers out and licks on as he makes eye contact with me. He closes his eyes and moans, “You taste delicious, Y/N” He holds his finger to my lips my arousal flooding my nostrils, “Open, Sweetheart.”

My heartrate spiked as I opened my mouth for him as he slides his fingers in and suck my juices clean off his fingers, His free hand caresses my cheek, “So fucking beautiful.” I close my eyes and hum at his compliment.

He pulls his finger out and he pulls undoes his pants and pulls them down until his cock springs to attention. I look at the plush reading chair in the corner and an idea form “Go to the chair, General,” He quirks a brow but walks over to the chair and picks up his wings to get comfortable sitting. Once he rests his wings, he spreads his legs.

I prepare to untie my heels when Cassian voice goes, “Those stay on along with that Choker, Sweetheart. Everything else off.”

I begin unlacing my dress and once its loose enough, I slowly pull down the straps facing Cassian, I tug down and turn quickly as I reach my breast, turning my head to give him a wing and slowly remove my dress swaying my hips for him until the dress is pulled at my feet. I step out of my dress and drape my arm over my chest and turn to him. He is breathing rapidly, and his hand is fisting his cock. His white shirt no longer covering his beautiful body and lust over runs my brain as I slowly lower to my knees and his eyes widened. I lower my arm and place both hands on the floor, my breast on full display and the focal point of the general’s gaze. I begin to crawl to him, and he groans leaning his head against the chair. “Fuck,” he moans.

When I reach him, I grip my hands on his calves and slowly raise my hands to his as sit myself in between his legs, “Do you know how long I have wanted to do this, Cassian?” He moans as my hand replaces his. “How often I touched myself thinking about a moment like this?”

Cassian’s eyes met mine, and he smirks, “Show me, Y/N.” I returned his smirk and while maintaining eye contact, I lick from the base all the way up to the tip of his cock his hips jerk slightly. I let my tongue swirl the tip the taste of his precum inducing the lust as I begin to take him in my mouth. His large hand slides through my hair as I take him deeper and deeper. I relax my throat to prevent me from gagging. Cassian fists my hair and pushes my head lightly, “Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much. Tap once if you understand.” I tap his thigh once, “Good girl.” I begin bobbing my head and he moans, I hollow my cheeks, and lift my eyes to meet his pure desire over his handsome features.

I picked up the pace drool pooling at the corners of my mouth and after a few moments Cassian tugs my hair, “That’s enough, I want to be inside you.” I take him out of my mouth as a line of spit that connects from my mouth to his tip. He leans forward and swipes my bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful.” I could feel the heat creep up my cheeks. He stands and holds out his hands, sliding mine into his own he lifts me up and with ease lifts me up and I drape my arms around his neck as my legs wrap around his waist. He presses his lips to mine and I tangle my fingers in his hair. His kiss is urgent and hungry, and he digs his fingers in my soft skin as he walks us to the bed.

Cassian lays me on the bed gently and pulls away from our kiss, he stands removing his pants completely and his soaked shirt. His tattooed tan skin and brood muscles are on full display. I watch as his eyes glazing over my heavy breast, my round stomach and the stretch marks and cellulite that brushes my skin. I instinctively cover myself with my arms he gently grabs my arms and pull them away, “Don’t hide, Sweetheart. I’m just admiring your stunning body,” He kisses my hand, “You’re fucking perfect, Y/N,” and he leans down and kisses my stretch marks on my thighs and moves up to the ones on my stomach, and he moves to my breast, and he places my nipple into his mouth swirling his tongue causing me to arch my back. His large, calloused hand grips my other one and squeezed it and I moaned and lifted my hips. He releases my nipple with a pop, and he kisses up my neck and my cheek. “I fantasized about having you in my arms, in my bed for so long.” He strokes his thumb across my cheek.

My breathing became labored, “Really?”

He kisses my lips so reverently and he presses his forehead to mine, “Gods yes, since that first day we met, the first time you smiled at me I wanted you. I just knew that you needed a friend first, so I tampered off my feelings.”

I cup his face in my hands and whisper, “I’m yours, Cassian, I’ve always been yours.”

Something primal stirs in his chest, and slants his mouth over mine, his thighs move to spread my legs apart. The kiss is possessive, and tongue and teeth and I grind my hips to try to get friction between my thighs. He chuckles over my lips, “Does my girl, want my cock now?” I moan at him calling me his girl and I nod my head, “Words, Sweetheart. Give me your words.”

“Yes, please, General.”

He hummed, “Well since you asked so nicely.” He slowly guides his cock into my center going slow so I can adjust to his size. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he stretches me out. The hand that cups my cheek and my eyes met his, “Stay with me, Sweetheart.” I nod my head, “You, okay?”

“Cass,” He tilts his head, “Please start moving.”

“As you wish, Gorgeous.” And he pulls himself out almost all the way until he slams all the way into me, and I arch my back, Cassian tilts his head back and groans as he thrusts in a slow steady pace. “You feel magnificent.” He leans back down and cradles his head in the crook of my neck, I move my hips to meet his pace and he starts nibbling on my neck leaving little love bites on the column on my neck.

His hands find mind and laces our fingers, and he gives my hands a squeeze, and I whimper as his cock hits the right spot, and I murmur, “I love you.”

He stilled and his hazel eyes meet mine, “What did you say?”

I look at him and give him a smile, “I. Love. You.”

Cassian’s stunned face turned into one of pure beauty and happiness, “I love you too, more than you could possibly know.” He quickens his pace, and he leans his head against mine and growls, “You’re mine.”

I smile as sweat coats my brow, “And you’re mine.” He releases one of my hands and his hands finds my swollen clit and my hip jerks at him swirling his finger on it. My climax building in my stomach, “Cass, I’m close.”

He continues his thrusts and whispers, “Come with me, Sweetheart.” His hand works in time with his thrust and him squeezing my hand keeps me grounded. I moan and he swallows the sound with his mouth. And my stomach coils tight and my eyes roll and Cassian roars his wings flaring out, as we both finish together.

Cassian slowly pulls himself out of me and I groan in protest. He chuckles, “Insatiable little, minx.” He goes to his bathroom and comes back with a rag and cleans me up. Tossing the rag aside he lifts my leg and begins to untie my heels on my one foot. Tossing the shoe on the floor he begins to massage my foot and I hum in contentment. He sets one leg down and lifts my other leg and does the same process.

Cassian scoops me up and pulls the covers back lays me back down pulling the covers over me. I watch as he walks to the other side of the bed, his wings tucked in and slides in. He pulls me closer, and I place my head on his chest the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a sweet melody in my ears. He wraps his arm around my waist, his hand rubbing up and down my side. “I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” I whisper.

His hand stilled, “What?”

I slide my hand to his and I trace the line inside his palm, “I’ve seen the females you’ve taken to bed; I don’t look like them.”

Cassian snorts and resumes rubbing my side, “No, your beauty blows theirs out of the water. Not to mention, your kindness and your love for your friends, your love for books and fuck if your smile doesn’t make me want to fall on my knees for you.”

“I love the way I feel safe in your arms, the way he always holds me close especially when you’ve been away for a while. You always have made me felt love and safe and even before tonight made me feel like I was the most beautiful female in the world.”

He kissed the top of my forehead, “You are, Sweetheart,” He pulls me closer, “My beautiful, Angel.”

A thought crosses into my head and I lift my head and meet his honey-colored eyes, “I think I earned my book back, General.”

Cassian laughed a boisterous laugh, and he lightly kissed my nose causing me to giggle, “In the morning, for now let’s go to sleep.” I place my head back on his chest and fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

#cassian fanfic #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x fem!reader #cassian x plus size reader #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #acotar smut #acotar fanfiction #cassian smut

319 notes · View notes

kqrmen1 · 1 year ago

Text

a bunch of separated donnies (v.1)

BEHOLD! the project i’ve been working on for like a little under a week or so. this was kind of a nightmare.

this was inspired by @/s0fti3w1tch’s separated au leos piece because its absolutely amazing but i dont have a separated leo au, i have a separated donnie au so.. ta daa.

AUs + creators below, thanks to @stitchpunkdsol and @spixybeaniebaby for helping me curate this selection :)

Gemini Twins - @tangledinink

Top row L->R bottom row L->R

Adopted Donnie - @tblsomedoodles

Empyrean Weeping - @cupcakeslushie

Even More of a Disaster Twins - @teaableu + @3lectricinsomnia (AU blog: @evenmoreofadisaster)

Red Rover - @theserpentsnight (AU blog: @red-rover-au)

Diamond in the Repo Yard - me :) (AU blog: @diamondinthe-repoyard)

The Little Prince - @beannary

Life Mission: Save My Brothers - @daedelweiss

Nothing Left To Lose - @leo-kinnie

Bloodbath - @trubblegumm (AU blog: @bloodbath-au)

#i got like really sick <2 days working on this so that should tell you everything about the process #im feeling a little better FINALLY but like oh my god #i got a super bad cold and have wanted to do nothing but sleep #but i pushed through and here we go #not my best work but im happy with it overall :)#gonna reblog with closeups of each donnie #my art #ROTTMNT #rottmnt au #rottmnt donnie #fanart #does this count as propaganda for the sep au? maybe idk #tmnt sep au comp #tmnt separated au comp #tmnt separated au

531 notes · View notes

lqvsjy · 10 months ago

Note

thoughts on jay with tattoos or piercings :3

omg. 😵‍💫 jay is definitely the guy to have a nose piercing !!!!!! the tiniest diamond stud but it suits him so well ;D and maybe an eyebrow piercing hehehehe

the kinda guy who makes a slit in his eyebrow and then pierces it himself one night cuz he’s bored …

also his tattoos!!!!!!!! u know he has a huge back tattoo going right down his spine 🫠 also tiny little tattoos scattered around his arms and his legs that he lets u draw in

he looooves when u trace his tattoos when u guys are cuddling or standing in line somewhere he thinks it’s so cute

nsfw below

he has a prince albert piercing 🥹 when u saw it for the first time u had so many questions !!!!! and yes it hurt like a bitch

feels so good tho :3 he loves the lil noises u make when ur caught off guard from the coldness of the jewellery running over ur clit hehehehe

i’m a firm believer he would have a v line tattoo .. or maybe one right above his cock :o

up to u guys what u think it would be tho ^_^

#┈ ⟡ after hours #┈ ⟡ regards #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen #jay park #park jongseong #jay park drabbles #jay park imagines #enhypen jay #jay park smut #jay park x reader

125 notes · View notes

goosygator · 6 months ago

Text

Is anyone else just completely going crazy about the lack of proper resolution for the 3 Icewing siblings?!?

Like Hailstorm ends up still stuck in the Ice Kingdom with an identity disorder, probably made worse by the fact that everyone knows he didn’t actually kill Winter and therefore cheated and doesn’t actually deserve his rank. The sudden pressure of everyone’s high expectations of you suddenly dropping once you come back “different” is one hell of a POV book.

Icicle is still in freaking jail awaiting trial, whatever that may mean. Traumatized out of her mind because she not only failed in retrieving her brother, but was also just being manipulated by Scarlet into doing her bidding, telling her that if she failed she was just going to kill her brother and make her watch?! Plus she sorta killed someone innocent, and maybe coming to terms and accepting that guilt would be a nice ending if Tui absolutely had to keep her in jail.

And Winter is just…there i guess?! He was completely abandoned by both friends and family. Said friends don’t even trust him enough to tell him the truth about DS and in fact isolate him because he’s prone to outbursts which are in all honesty kinda justified. Snowfall sorta grants him his prince status but what does that even do? He is still just an outcast to his tribe and everybody probably hates him for breaking one of their longest standing traditions. I wished book 14 wasn’t strictly tied to Snowfall and maybe co-split between her and Winter’s perspective. And for fucks sake Tui, why was Snowfall the one that broke the rankings and not the dragon that was most affected by them?!

Like is this really the end of their story??

Think of the potential these siblings have!!!

Icicle jailbreak arc, Hailstorm identity acceptance arc, Winter self improvement arc when?

And not even just those simple ones! I am brimming with ideas on what next could be done with them.

Including a potential Winter v Hailstorm Public Diamond Trial Forced Rematch, where Winter wins (Hailstorm lives, but takes Winter’s exile) and takes Hailstorm spot as a “sacrifice”, using his power to free Icicle but ending up all alone in the Ice Kingdom as result. (Hey, at least this one is way cooler and in character)

But thats a longer post I’ll make later.

#wings of fire #wof #wof winter #winter wof #hailstorm wof #icicle wof #icewing #wings of fire winter

55 notes · View notes

draggeddowntothedark · 6 months ago

Text

Oh, now that was a man that caught a second look.

Cicero lowered his sketchpad and focused on the redhead. He did come to the park often dragging his brain for fashion inspiration. People were the best source of inspiration. How they were shaped. How colors affected their complexion. Let the true rainbow of people express itself in his work.

And this particular shade was one the vampire wasn't going to let slip away.

"Excuse me- do you have some time to model? Just a few minutes?"

@bleedinghearth

#v; prince of diamonds #bleedinghearth #cicero shapter

15 notes · View notes

smolvenger · 1 year ago

Text

The Battle of Agincourt (Henry V/fem! Reader Oneshot)

Word Count: 7K

Summary: As his wife and queen, you follow your husband, Henry the Fifth to France for his battles. It is the morning of the battle of Agincourt, and you don't know if he will make it out alive. You spend one last moment of passion together.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ SMUT! SMUT! (We get TWO smut scenes in one onshot! P in V sex, missionary, doggy style, edging, medieval dirty talk, praise, slight degradation and edging breast play, degradation, bits of power play, doing the deed standing up-legit one of the filthiest things I've written in a long time!). Mentions of war and brief mention of sexual assault and death. Lots of angst, but also some fluff.

A/N: Based off of a dream I had. Enjoy!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (you can just skip the wedding night and barn scene and you will be good, bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner@littlespaceyelf@superficialdomina @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr

You never forgot the day you were introduced to the man you loved.

You were sent there to the castle. An alliance between your father and the new king of England was being considered. Nothing confirmed, you were told by your father. Only consideration.

“He is a single man. And young. He needs more for his army, his lands…and that is secured with a marriage,” he told you.

The one key to sealing it.

You.

A marriage between you and this king. Many men in his army sealed with one woman being brought to his bed. And it might be you.

You had heard he was a wild boy, Harry Monmouth, Prince Hal. But everyone assured you that he had somehow matured. No sooner than his father died but he had been far calmer, more responsible. He spent his hours studying rather than drinking.

But you were still nervous. When the day arrived for this alliance to be discussed, your father asked you to dress in your best. Looking in the mirror as you squeezed your mother’s hand, you wondered; am I good enough for a king’s glance? Perhaps if you had more jewels and walked in with the richest silks like a shining diamond, then he would take note. Still, bedecked in your finery, you headed off and were greeted at the castle. You were stopped, awaiting the signal.

“If the king decides he would like to meet you…then be ready,” he warned.

It might not happen at all, you wondered.

You did hear voices outside the thick door. Seeping through. No doubt there would be advisors and other lords to talk to the king. But there was one voice-he sounded young, indeed. He had a resonant, powerful voice- rich and commanding. But smooth too. The sort to command a legion but could also whisper gentle words to his lover.

As you stood, wondering how long you both could wait, the door opened, and you jumped.

“His Majesty, King Henry the Fifth, would like to meet you,” the servant announced.

Just for consideration. Nothing permanent. Not yet, you thought. You were grateful your dresses were long. They would hide your shaking legs. You nodded, remembering basic etiquette as you gripped your father’s arm.

The door opened and you both walked inside, your steps echoing throughout the stone castle. You took in your surroundings despite the air in your lungs almost stopping. The high windows with the orange sunlight. The long candles for light. The weaving of Saint George on the back wall. A wooden throne with tall, stone steps. There, you saw your father. A few lords in the back-old men with scarves for hats and long cloaks.

And in the center of it, turning towards you, was a young man. A young man with a crown- Henry the Fifth. The young king.

Extremely handsome. A head full of his auburn curls, his small, neat beard. His blue eyes were soft when he looked at you and a red leather doublet framed his lean body well. There were chairs about and you were led to sit in a chair some distance away.

Your father and the king began to talk. Keeping an appropriate distance. But you couldn’t help but admire the handsome, young king. If he were just an ordinary man going down the street, you would have indulged in ogling him. But you could not, you felt yourself get warm as you kept your eyes demurely on the floor when he caught you watching. Their voices became murmurs. Then the king turned to you.

“You are the Lady Y/N…” he began.

He gestured to you to rise from your chair, you gave him a curtsy.

“I am, your grace,” you replied.

He walked up closer. You could hear his footsteps. You made your own breath slower. You could feel yourself sweat like it was July in Italy. You forced your eyes down, feeling your shaking going to your hands.

“You need not be shy, my lady,” he said.

You then looked up. Eyes onto him.

“Could you take two steps closer, my lady?” he asked.

You did. He walked around you in a circle, seeing all of you. You let him, though your heart was roaring in your ears. Feeling his eyes all over his potential bride- you. Once he stepped out, completing his circle, your eyes met his. Perhaps that was bold, considering his position- your lord and sovereign of your country. But nothing in him deterred.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“Very well, your grace.” You replied.

Henry turned to your father, looking at him, but only taking a step back.

“Sir…you have not offered me some mortal woman…” he began.

You folded your hands and did your best to mask your dread. Oh no, was he about to Call you something bad? How would you endure the humiliation of being not only rejected but insulted by the king of England mere minutes of meeting him!? You would have to spend your life under a rock in the woods to save your dignity. You looked up to him with big eyes and felt your body brace itself. To hold in the tears and anger of such a moment with as much false calm as you could. Awaiting the blow of the king's insult.

But no blow arrived.

Henry then smiled, eyes turning between you and your father.

“Here before me is an angel from heaven! A woman too lovely for us mere men!” King Henry the Fifth announced.

One did not recover from such a statement quickly. "Shock" was not quite the word fitting for how you felt. No, it was this. Utter and pure delighted surprise. Your breath quickened. You felt a smile grow on you. Your heart picked up again as he walked closer to you.

“Thank you, your grace…do you fear blasphemy from such words?” you asked.

“Not if it is the truth, just as scripture is,” he added with a wink.

Your mind went blank at his wink, his smile. Hot and your mind spinning. Your mouth kept running from the excitement. But still polite.

“You are generous, your grace.”

He went up to you.

“Could you…call me Henry? Or Harry? Hal, even?”

“I could…Henry,” you replied.

You watched Henry turn to your father and shake his hand. The alliance went through. With a flourish, he signed the treaty and the agreement to marry you.

“Ah, my lucky little girl…now about to be queen of England!” your father would say later, kissing your cheek.

Henry (for now he was more than just the king, but your intended!) would often invite you to visit. Giving you tours of every room and corner of the castle.

“After all, it’s going to be your home!” he would claim.

Or, to the most shock of anyone, he would visit your home himself to see you. Fine dinners would be served, and he would sit by you as you sewed, smiling like a schoolboy just to be beside you.

A chaperone was always present, but quiet in the back. A smiling shadow upon you two. Henry wrote you numerous letters and you wrote back to him when he was away. It was easier to like him the more he spent time with you. If not, be infatuated with him. Maybe even love him as the months to the wedding passed. He showered you with gifts and lovers’ tokens. Little ribbons and pieces of jewelry and belts and scraps of paper with love poetry.

The first time he held your hand, you thought you saw him tremble a little. His thumb went over the skin of yours. He was very soft- not pressing or squeezing your own. You felt as if you could float.

The first time he kissed you was the day before the wedding. You were both walking in the gardens. With the sun gentle and the flowers in bloom, it was just like a dream. Your chaperone was in the back, her arms folded before her. Then Henry stopped his steps and turned to you.

“Could I kiss you…on the lips, Y/N?” he asked, his eyes hopeful like a puppy.

You didn’t have the heart to say no. How fortunate that you wanted to. You felt yourself swallow hard and then nod your head.

“Yes,” you answered.

He tipped your chin to meet him and kissed you. It was gentle. Chaste, even. You felt his soft lips and nothing else. But it was…loving. Your knees wobbled again. You felt the breath from his nose. He was so close. So, so close. He felt…good. He let go, the lips clicking as they retracted. Both of your eyes were still closed. When you opened, he relaxed and let out a smile. You opened your mouth a little but had no words.

“Your kiss has a power to it, Y/N,” he whispered.

“I will use them with caution, then,” you replied teasingly.

You then returned to wrapping an arm around his and continuing walking. Both you and your chaperone shared a look, giving an appreciative nod. Something was growing inside you for him. Something…more.

You couldn’t deny that Henry was the most handsome man you had ever lain eyes on. His broad back and his slender waist. His winning smile, large, gentle hands, cheekbones, tall height, soft blue eyes- all beautiful.

And desirable.

He was lean and strong-what did he look like beneath his leather and velvet? If you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t wait for your wedding…and your wedding night. You often indulged in secret glances at his codpiece and his behind whenever he turned around-his pants flattered him. And both sides were something to see. The beautiful curls- a mix of red and blonde that he combed back. You wondered what it would be like to touch. Even pull! That was from what you learned from others of what happened between a husband and wife before the big day. Henry’s beard made him look mature and dignified. Not some pranking, whooping boy- a man. A man who knew how to take care of a woman in bed.

Even among your tours of the castle, he never took you to your private chambers. But whenever you passed by the hall with those large, wooden doors right at the end of a small passageway, you couldn’t help but grin.

Already tingly and titillated at the thought of the night, you kept your smile when they dressed you on your wedding day. It was joyous. Your gown was made with the finest while silk with little pearl embellishments and a jeweled belt. No one would doubt you were Queen of England already. Your father led you out. When you were placed on Henry’s left at the door of the chapel, you could see his smile on you- already bedecked in red with his crown. The ceremony felt far too long. But you held yourself together like a giddy child on a festival. The mass and prayers came and went. Henry made his vows before an altar as did you. Then the priest made the sign of the cross over you two.

It was done. You were married to him now. The second the priest let his hand down, bells all over the city- no, not just the city, England itself it-chimed out. Flower petals were tossed your way as you both walked out through the city, presented to the people as a couple.

There were enough guests that it seemed like half the world’s population was there at the feast. Your friends and family, those you loved dearly, were invited. A thankful distraction from your growing physical desire for your husband (to think! Henry was now your husband!!). They embraced you and wished “Y/N, oh much congrats!” to you. You never felt such beaming love from everyone you cared for as that day. You hugged and chatted and celebrated with the people you loved. Henry smiled at you and kissed your hand with such tenderness your heart could burst. The feast tasted sweet, and the music played even sweeter.

The room became darker, and servants lit more candles. Guests were leaving. It was announced that there would be a bedding ceremony. It was finally time, you thought with trepidation. Musicians played songs as the party led you to Henry’s chambers through those stone halls. Henry was adorably nervous. You saw his hands twitch and when you brushed close to him. Oh, no doubt you were nervous too. Any rational person in your situation would be nervous. You considered yourself such. But you were also…excited. Ready.

You entered the bedroom. It was large. Fitting for the king. Once it was your father-in-law’s room- the late Henry the Fourth. Now it was your husband’s. It was full of lit candles with tall stained-glass windows, and a white stone floor with black squares. A large bed with a dark canopy full of gold-colored fleur-de-lys patterns, cream pillows, and thick, dark blankets.

Servants undressed you from that beautiful wedding dress. They undressed Henry too until both of you were in your shifts. You couldn’t help but notice how the collar peeked at a beautiful, broad chest-just open enough to see a peek. It seemed as beautiful as you imagined. It made more shivers of desire run through you. You were given a cup of spiced wine that you both sipped from. It felt as sacred as a Eucharist- he looked at you as you drank and as he drank. An offering of something shared-how now you would be joined as one. The bed was now an altar and lovemaking a rite.

After the bishop blessed the bed, Henry dismissed every courtier. He thanked them for celebrating with him but insisted on privacy. They bowed and left. For the first time, you both were truly alone. He then turned to you.

“How are you, your Highness?” he asked, noting your new title, he took your hands, running a thumb over them.

“It was a long day…but a happy one. I’m a little tired…. but I’m well…,” you answered.

“I’m glad you are, Y/N…” he replied.

Smiling at him, You cupped his cheek and moved his arms to embrace you. He blinked in slight surprise.

“You can hold me…husband,” you said, relishing the taste of the word.

The most you did throughout your betrothal was hold hands. But he obliged and put his long arms around you. He smelled of wine and a bit of incense from the ceremony at the church. With his thumb, he gently traced your face.

“If Satan himself would look at you, he would weep and confess for forgiveness at once…Y/N, Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes- please kiss me,” you replied.

Then he kissed you. But you kept him there. Pressed against you. God’s blood, that beautiful man right near you, against you, on you- feeling his warmth, his body on yours. You wanted more. You then grabbed him and kept kissing him again and again. He felt so warm and soft…except for one part of him you could feel against you. And no codpiece to cover for it. You bit back a giggle at the new feeling, knowing that he really felt the same despite his wide eyes and blushing cheeks. And your body replied in turn. It was as if lightning was coursing through you. It made you wetter than the sea. Preparing yourself for him.

Oh, and you were more than ready. And this was a perfect time for it. You grabbed onto him. Then began to lead him to the bed with a smile, walking up two little elevated steps that led to the bed strewn with flowers and ribbons for this night. For this moment. For this act. Then right before the bed, your fingers went to the strings of your shift on the collar that held it together-the only layer over you.

Henry’s jaw dropped a little, looking down and then back up to your face. Even if you saw an outline of his desire through his shift, his eyes grew wide.

“Y/N …are you…sure?” he asked.

You undid the tie, showing the valley of your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down then forced back up at yours.

“Henry…I want you to take me. Make love to me- make love to your wife tonight!” you insisted quietly.

“I did not wish to…to push you to…to…uh, consummate the marriage before you...you wanted to…” he replied meekly.

The most powerful man in the world and here he was at a loss of words. To think this was once the tavern boy caught with prostitutes!

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Henry…I want you…take me on your bed…you are my king….rule me and have me here then….” You whispered.

You led his hands to push the rest of your shift off. Leaving you bare before him. His eyes finally drank all of you in.

That was enough to persuade him.

He pushed you down and was on top of you. Like an animal released from his cage, his kisses had a little more fire to them. His hands began to roam greedily over your body. Down your chest, feeling one of your breasts as he kissed you. Then down your stomach, over your hip bones- feeling each bit of you. He began to pant heavily, his eyes full of eager joy and a playful lust in his smile.

Then you helped to take off his shift. You nearly forgot to breathe at the sight of Henry’s naked body. His strong abdominals and arms. His large chest with a few black hairs. Of course, his own cock was so hard and large you bit back the urge to gasp at the sight of it. You laid down on the bed, smiling at him.

“Please, Henry…I ache for you…” you urged. Splaying your body before him on his bed. Feeling like a siren. Only he was no hesitant prey.

He pulled himself over you, taking one hand of his to position your legs to open, shifting his weight on top of you.

“I always wondered what this night would be like…what it would be like the moment I saw you…” he whispered.

He looked at you, cupping your cheek. Seeking permission as he settled himself, his tip just at your entrance’s beginning.

“Henry…I’m ready…” you urged him.

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer. Not able for himself to wait any longer. He then positioned himself. Slowly, he entered you. Inch by agonizing inch. You writhed beneath him, moaning as he got inside.

“Oh! Oh-oh God!” you cried. He was big. You could feel him creeping in deep, almost like your stomach could be penetrated from his largeness. You clung onto the sheets tight, and his own hand went over yours.

He himself let out a grunt when he finally shifted all his cock inside you. There was a little pain, but it fizzled out. You were full-and it was heavenly You held onto him. He pulled his hips back and began to slowly enter you again and again. You groaned with each delicious thrust of his.

“Yes…nrgh-my wife-you-gods-my wife-my sweet wife-“he whispered with each snap.

You opened your arms as well as your legs, holding onto him. He repeated your name again. Kissing you tenderly on the side of your head when he could. A mess of groans and kisses and praise was all the king could say. His arms stretching around to keep you in his embrace.

Then he used one hand and lifted your legs up to a new position- a little deeper. Your knees went up. You let out little cries with each slow, sloppy movement. Each welcome intrusion of him to your insides. You had never known pleasure as much as this.

“Yes…oh gods…Henry…Henry I…oh!” you breathed out.

Your head lay on those cream pillows. Soft as clouds. With the dark bed canopy and the roaring fire, the rain outside pattering the windows, there was never a lovelier, more peaceful night. His curls fell before his face. He kept at it- thrust, thrust, thrust. His shallow breathing above you, and the moans that escaped you that were far from maiden modesty.

He held you. He gave you an open kiss as he thrust forward for one. He began to mutter more.

“Yes…nrgh- yes, -my little queen…doing so well…”

More little noises came out of you. And you heard his voice get only a little higher in pitch. And yet he continued, only barely picking up the pace. You wrapped your hands to him and ran one through the curls on his head- how soft they felt, like little auburn feathers. How soft the bed was-a feathered mattress against your bare skin as it slide back and forth slowly against it with each snap of his kingly hips. Henry slowed one thrust but would give you a little kiss- your cheek, the side of your face.

“God’s blood-my wife-nrg-sweet wife-oh-yes-taking-taking me…”

He kept at it. Then he reached down. He found your entrance, the very beginning where your lips and walls. He talked softly in between thrusts.

“I’m…I’m close, and I think….I think you are too, my little wife- I…yes…come undone, come undone with me…”

He reached inside and you gasped from the feeling. He found your bud, his finger curling with it, stroking it with each thrust. You let out another gasp. He smiled.

“Let go wife-nrgh-let it…let it-“

He began to strum it. Then everything overwhelmed you. You were spinning higher and higher. His kisses and hands already felt your bud and with his playing. You felt yourself winding up, curling up inside. You shook so hard. You wondered if you were going to die from the overwhelm, from the rising feeling, the intensity. His thrusts picked up the pace, you felt it growing, growing, growing.

Then finally, something hit you so suddenly, so hard-your body clenching and releasing all at once you let out a loud cry as the sensation hit you like cold air.

“Ah!”

A last thrust, the king of England came undone and let out his own small shout of pleasure. Then he stopped his thrusts. He stayed inside you, letting his seed rope itself. Then he held you, held you tight as he came inside you. It seemed as if the world itself stopped.

Once it was done, he pulled out but kept close to you. Caressing your cheek. Panting hard, his broad, strong chest rising with his breaths.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I feel…I’ve never felt so good, husband,” you replied with a giggle as you pulled him forward to wrap your arms and kiss him until both fell asleep.

He did turn out to be a good husband. Always listening, gentle, and enthusiastic about his role. He listened to your own advice and always took you seriously. He was aggressively faithful, shutting down even the idea of a mistress if any lord was foolish enough to suggest it. He spent time with you. There were so many times you would hold him to your chest and hum, playing with his curls. You learned from each other and challenged each other to do better each day. Be it in a game of chess or in court. He made you feel…safe. Wanted. Loved, even. Not to mention he was a passionate lover in bed. If your one duty was to bed the king, then being queen was quite a simple task indeed. And a duty you loved to fulfill again. And again. And again. And again.

You managed your own life as queen well. adapting and figuring it out. Attending parliament by his side.

You were sitting by him when the fateful day came. It was found out he had a claim to France. And the French ambassador mocked him by giving him the gift of a box full of tennis balls. Furious at the insult, Henry declared there and then he would begin an invasion of France.

He’s going to leave. He’s going to be gone to war. And who knows how long, you thought sadly. You went to your chambers and began to sob. Then the next day, all were discussing logistics. You sat on your own throne, contemplating it all as they talked.

“Yes, my brother- John shall stay. He will lead…” Henry announced. “And by this day, we will gather the army and set sail for France.”

You couldn’t take it. You sat up at once.

“And I will go with you!” you insisted.

The men’s heads turned to you.

“What?!” cried one lord, stepping forward.

The advisors went around you.

“Your Highness…it is not safe!” advised another.

You walked forward, looking down at the table with the map on it. Then you looked at them and addressed them.

“My husband is a warrior. And when we were married, we were made one. This means I am a warrior too, in my own way. And where he goes, there I must go too- his battles are mine as well. Then I say- I will go with him!” you declared, slamming a firm hand on the table.

There was a second of silence. Then your husband took your hands.

“If we can make it safe for her, she will go with me,” he said.

You went off to France with him. You braved the rollicking ships. You both shared a little cot bed as the ship heaved back and forth at night. One night was a storm and the thunder surprised you so much in your bed, you clung to him. He only laughed a little, rubbing your back in comfort.

“It’s only the voice of God, my dove, He is on our side…and protecting you,” he assured, kissing your forehead.

It was not long before it arrived and the army began to set forth. You traveled through forests, riding your horse by your husband’s side through villages and countryside for entire days. You were a little nervous being the only woman surrounded by men. But they knew how precious a queen you were to their Harry of England, their sovereign. If any of them dared to lay a hand on you, they knew they would face a quick and bloody end on their king’s sword. So, they kept respectful, always greeting you with bows and soft voices. You would set up camp and then live in a tent rather than a palace. Some hours you would give your own counsel as you stood by him for planning the army’s next move. When there was an attack, you were put in a safe place with many guards so none would dare hurt the king’s beloved. Other times, you would volunteer with the food or help with medical needs- helping with injuries, cooling warm foreheads with cloths. You saw this fiercer side already of him. He shouted bold, encouraging speeches as they went and attacked towns.

Though you scolded him for the speech he made to the Governor of a city called Harfleur. When they arrived, to your immense shock, Henry coldly threatened his army would pillage the town, set their infants on spikes, and ravish the village women. That was enough to persuade the governor to open the gates and peacefully let them go through without one shred of violence. But his words still rang and made you see red with anger.

You met him in your tent later, and he jumped at your frown. You crossed your arms.

“Henry- you dare to have your men do these unspeakable things to women! You know better! Have you considered I am a woman as well?! And that is our worst fear!”

“I only wished to scare him. I knew it would move him, my dear. And it does happen during wars…”

“You will not let that happen! You will not let the soldiers force themselves on civilian women-or I shall never speak to you, and you won’t be allowed in my chambers either! I’ll sleep in another tent and not allow you to lay a hand on me!” You chided.

It was a threat which, like his to the governor, worked well. He never made a spoke like that again. And you forgave him.

The many ups and downs. The army was too depleted to move onto Paris so all of you went to Calais. You stopped and fled further realizing the French army was chasing everyone down. You arrived at the small town of Agincourt. The French army had now surrounded you. The Dauphin arrived one cold night. And it was decided-there would be a formal battle tomorrow.

Now here it was- a decisive battle. Only a small handful of soldiers could get a full night’s sleep and Henry himself stayed awake to talk to them. But in your tent, you tossed and turned in your makeshift bed under many blankets. You awoke and then fell again. Your worries had haunted you.

They were going to fight the Dauphin’s army. And the Dauphin’s men outnumbered Henry’s. Five French soldiers for every English.

You awoke shivering and dressed. You gathered your cloak for it was a cold day. Opening the flap of one tent, you saw him. Henry. A small distance away, kneeling in the grass. It was so early that the sky was still grey, the sun barely peeking. You could hear his prayer.

“Lord…strengthen my soldier’s hearts…I’ve made my repentance to Richard and his grave…. please strengthen them…and me…”

Five to one, your mind kept repeating to yourself. Five to one. Five to one.

You wondered at the white horse he brought with him. It was with the others chewing on grass in ignorance of what was about to happen. Why would your husband need it? It would be as if he was a target for their practice! A surefire way to signal this was the man to kill.

How fragile he seemed as he kept praying. He was human. Your husband’s mortality dawned on you. His racing heart could stop. His warm skin grow cold. And his shallow breaths of his anxious prayer would end and there would be none anymore. He dressed in a red doublet- red as the blood threatening to spill from him.

You approached him, noticing him making the sign of the cross to end the prayer. He turned his head to see you.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Only as well as I can be…” he asked.

He easily got up from the grass. Then he went over to a of his lords and guards already armored. He whispered something to them. Nodding, they turned back to camp. He then returned, his gloved hands taking yours.

“I’d…I’d like to spend some time with you…. before…before it starts,” he said.

“Of course, dear husband,” you answered with a smile.

Both of you walked into the woods. It was peaceful- you heard the leaves beneath your shoes and the birdsong. The rustling of trees and the mist as gentle as his kisses at your wedding. Disguised in your cloaks, you could have been any ordinary pair of lovers wandering in the forest. Not a king and queen of a whole nation.

“Y/N…do you see that? In the valley?” he asked, pointing at a hand.

It was a barn and An old house. The house was abandoned and burned to where the walls were only halfway stood beside it. The barn was intact. He led you inside- the wood creaking and the wind whistling through it. There wasn’t one living life around. No horses. No pigs. Not even an ant.

“We’re a distance off…are we still safe?” you asked.

“It’s alright- you know the path- find the oak tree with mushrooms and keep walking north…Y/N, I asked the guards to leave us alone for a little. I wanted to…to be with you.”

There were no animals around, much less people. Only you two. Even the sky itself seemed unreal. It was nothing but the grey light of dawn over a cloudy sky. So early, it felt cold. And it was misty and grey.

It was dark and musty in the barn. You saw a wooden bench and stables and troughs. But it was mostly hay- so much hay that there were still tall stalks around the barn.

He then turned to you and kissed you. He took you in his arms. He touched your face, and you realized a tear was rolling down your cheek.

“Y/N…I want this…if this is our last moment together…I….” he began.

He held you closer.

“Yes, Henry….”

He took a deep breath. Then kissed you again, only leaving a trail down your neck. Your heart picked up and you warmed up quickly. He then returned, cupping your face again and looking directly into your eyes, so close. So, there was only him.

“The camp is far off. They won’t disturb us. They won’t hear us. Y/N I… I…I love you….”

“I love you too,” you replied. You kissed him again. You shivered from feeling the cold. And the growing desperation on his face.

“I know this is not the most romantic place. This is not the most beautiful speech I can think of. But…I say it again because it is simple. It is true- I love you, Y/N. And should I die, I want you to know that…”

He paused. Then blinking back a couple tears, he continued.

“If…If this is the day, I’m killed…it is a prayer for you that will be my last word…I’m glad I met you. I’m glad I married you. I have so much shame, so much regret…but you- you were the best choice I made as king. To choose to marry you, love you…”

You cupped him and kissed him again. You felt him press against you. His hands went from your back to your sides. His gloves went up and began to bunch your skirt. Already, you felt yourself grow wet for him. Feeling the bit of cold air on your skin.

“The guards are away…the army is away…they’re far…my wife…please…. here…. love me one last time, lie with me here-so I can feel you-know it is like inside you, to feel your pleasure one more time…”

You grabbed onto him. Feeling his skin, his breathing in his body-his life. His fire.

“Yes…take me. Henry- use me now. I know you feel so much. Take it out. Take out everything on me…just love me…make love to me, husband. Strongly. Strongly as you feel,” you pleaded.

He gave a small smile, giving a last kiss with tongue. Tasting him. He pressed you close.

“You will?” he asked.

“I will,” you answered.

Then he pushed you roughly and you and you landed with a small laugh against a haystack. One so high it was taller than yourself. He then backed you to the haystalk in a second. His kisses on your neck had added teeth. He was leaving marks against the skin of your exposed neck.

“Do you like this, little wife?” he asked.

“I do!”

He chuckled lightly.

“Gods, you torment me. Each time you are there in my tent, every meeting you look at me and smile, I imagine you without your gown on. If could, I’d have you over that very table the second they left every meeting…”

Then, his hand turned to a grip. He grabbed onto you. You began to grind naturally against him. He gasped at the feeling but kept talking.

“Perhaps I could grab you and have you on the grass. And have every soldier who leered at you to watch. To have them watch as I take you like a beast. So, they know none of them can make you cum like I can. Until your name is all you can say on your lips. So, they all know you are mine.”

He found the blouse of your dress. Desperately, he pulled down the overdress’s shoulders. With one tug, he undid the strap of the shift beneath and pulled it down. Your breasts exposed. He cupped and kissed it. He kept a hand, pinching your nipple as he went to your ear. Then he began to make more biting kisses on your neck You embraced him- touching what you could, kissing what you could.

“Henry…I love you, I love you…” you repeated.

“I love you, and be ready, little wife. You’ve wanted fire-now you have it.”

He lowered his mouth to kiss your breasts. Then he used teeth and tongue. He bit your breasts, licked your nipples, and then used his teeth. You began to moan. It was so loud, that you were grateful not even animals could hear you now.

Then he lightly tossed you around. Then he turned you around, pushing you so that you leaned over a wooden bench that was kept there. Your hands braced onto the wood. He then lifted your skirt up to your hips, your bum exposed to him. He gave you a small smack on your behind. You let out a cry.

“I remember your chiding at Harfleur. That’s what you get, little wife, when you disobey your king. You get punishment.”

He began to undo his pants with a quick click of his belt. He began to thrust into you there- hitting this new angle. It was so obscene; you couldn’t help but give into it. Your own filthy moans and his grunts right behind you.

“There-nrgh-yes-I-I-I-take you, like-like a whore-“

You were moving along, feeling your own body shake with each fast, deep thrust. You let out shouts as he got over. The spinning feeling, coiling in your belly, rising from the delicious degradation.

“Oh…oh gods-Henry-I’m-I’m going to-to cum, I’mgoingtocumI’m-“

Then he stopped. You heard his voice behind you.

“Not yet…. you won’t release yet. I’m not done,” he announced.

He turned you around. His large hands almost ripped off your cloak, and then your dress so it pulled down. If he could rip your dress to shreds, he would. But he only roughly put it all aside. You were fully naked, and he was still clothed. He smiled and licked his lips, his curls freed from his head.

“This- seeing this again- I would fight a hundred battles to see your bare breasts and feel your sweet warmth around my cock again.”

He picked you up. You held onto him. With one hand, he pulled down his pants as you held tighter. Released, his leaking tip is already teasing your entrance. Then he backed you up against the hay. He hooked your leg up to be around him. The hay was so high and sturdy that it held you up.

“My queen among people, but my whore in this barn.”

You gasped a little as he entered you. He was fast, desperate. His thrusts wild. He even freed one hand and slapped your breasts, and you let out a cry.

“How can I not touch these breasts? You make me too hard to even think in this army. Riding my horse when I want to use you like a mare beneath me.”

“Hen-Henry-I-I-“ the words left you.

Your breasts began to bounce with his movement obscenely. He grunted more like an animal. You wrapped your arms around his still-clothed shoulders, trying to keep up.

“I love-love-nrgh-you so much-gods-yes, I love you-nrgh-you’re all I could think about-yes-do you understand-ah!- how hard -yes- it is to speak diplomacy-nrgh- with the French when your cock is raging hard seeing your wife?”

He thrust into you again and your own voice was getting a little higher. Hard, rough, desperate. The spinning, the rising was happening. You held onto him. Then one glove began to reach down and circle your clitoris, you gasped- letting it out. The hard leather on your wet folds, on your bud was going to break you. You heard his words. You bit on, to fight the rise, to not release yet. Hearing each thing he said.

“If I live- I Want you in my tent. On my bed, over the blankets. I want you naked -and I want your legs spread wide for me-so I can ravish you like this again when it’s done. Do that-do that for your king,”

“Yes, yes-I will!”

“I-I-am-nrgh-your king, am I?” he asked as he thrust.

“Y-yes! Yes, you are!”

“Who is your king?”

“Henry! Henry’s my king!”

He then continued at another violent, rougher pace. You wondered how much of this you could even take.

“I want to take you-nrgh- scream-nrgh-so all of France know who belongs to you-you-yes-NRGH- are mine-as-as as France as mine.”

He began to thrust harder. You gasped, as he kept at it.

“Oh-Oh my god-oh god- it’s-it’s happening-Henry I’m-I’m I’mI’mI’m-“

“Yes-Yes-you’re there, little whore-cum-cum for your king-cum for your king-cum for your king!”

Finally, you did too with a last scream. It echoed across to where the sound pattered through the woods. With a breathy, struggled shout he released as well. He kept thrusting, but slower. His hot speed shot forth and went inside you. Both of you panting wildly- you could see your chests heaving. He then held you, shaking a little as he caught his breath.

“Y/N….darling…thank you…I love you…so much…”

He kissed the side of your head as you nestled together. He kissed your cheek and his grip softened.

“Are you hurt?”

“No…I’m not…I have never felt better…” you said.

He helped you back up. Though you felt a little dizzy from the intensity. You could feel his seed inside you-dripping a little down your thighs. You wanted it to stay. Perhaps you would have a child from this and you would have to one day tell them they were conceived on the morn of a battle. Your legs shook. He picked up your discarded clothes and quickly helped you dress back into them. You combed you both wiped the hay off of both of you.

“That was…that was incredible…” you sighed as he clasped the cloak around you.

“And I must agree with you…” he replied.

You walked out soon. Still holding hands. He blushed bright red and there was a prance to his step. Confidence. Even if he was defeated, he would not go down easily. Not without a fight. The sun was now rising higher. The time was approaching. You watched as he was fitted back to his armor by his servants as you stood and watched. Exchanging small looks between you. But before he faced his men, he went back and gave you a passionate kiss. The deepest, and most loving kiss you ever felt him give you.

“Should anything happen to me- the Dauphin out of mercy he shall make sure you are safely brought home to England as an act of diplomacy. I made him promise. And the remaining soldiers will guard you, as well as my uncle.”

“But if…nothing happens to you…” you asked hopefully.

“Then…you remember your promise…” he said with a grin.

“I will see you in our tent…”

He smiled, then he went down and kissed your hand. Tears in his eyes.

“I never knew one soul like yours. Your courage, your kind heart, your wisdom…the greatest of all queens in all nations, and if I had my choice of every woman, it would still be you…”

You embraced him a last time.

“I love you, Y/N. And you will always be loved by me. Thank you…thank you for everything…”

“I love you too, Henry…”

Sharing a brief last kiss on your forehead, he went on his white horse. You felt tears streaming down your face. Then off he went with his men to battle. You never felt prouder of him. Though you felt yourself crying, you were smiling as well. Proud of your king. Your lover. Your husband.

267 notes · View notes

warwickroyals · 5 months ago

Text

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (34/∞) ♛

↬ The Duchess of Sherbourne's Scroll Tiara

On their wedding day, it's customary for a royal bride to don a tiara. Anticipation and mystery surround the bride-to-be's wedding jewels just as much as her wedding dress. Throughout the twenty-first century, the opportunity to wear tiaras has dwindled. Royal weddings are one of the last remaining venues for a jaw-dropping tiara moment. When Shelby Elizabeth Sykes became engaged to Prince Henry of Sunderland in early 2019, speculation ramped up once again. Would the bride choose something borrowed from her future in-laws as previous royal brides have done? Or would she take the modern route and opt for something new as the Duchess of Woodbine had back in 2006? As the wedding day drew closer bookies placed their bets and eagle-eyed royal watchers zeroed in on St. John's Caphel. Shelby, a thirty-four-year-old marketing executive, was older than her sisters-law at the times of their weddings and many hoped she would wear a tiara with a bit more weight. Others argued that a smaller tiara was more in line with Shelby's personal style. Many predictions were tossed around but none were correct. Ultimately Shelby got a cross between something borrowed, old, and new. The tiara is an amalgamation of three anthemion and scroll elements from the jewelry collection of Queen Alexandra, which dates back to the 1870s. Following the wedding, the royal family described the tiara on their website: This diamond and platinum tiara was lent to the Duchess by His Majesty the King [ . . . ] The tiara is formed of three open-work scroll motifs which originally belonged to His Majesty's Great-great-grandmother, Queen Alexandra. The tiara was designed by Prince Henry and re-modelled by the Crown Jeweller. The jewels of Sunderland's longest-serving queen consort are major heirlooms and some have suggested that this was King Louis V's way of voicing his approval of his newest daughter-in-law. However, more critical commentators have suggested the recycled jewel might reflect Louis's changing attitude towards jewellery, and how it should be doled out. By 2019, two royal duchesses had left the royal family, one through retirement and the other through divorce. The position of Tatiana, Princess of Danforth, was also shaky following the death of her husband the previous year. Not giving the new Duchess of Sherbourne a substantial tiara from the vault ensures legacy tiaras won't leave the main family; while skirting the costs of commissioning a new tiara. It's been alleged that Shelby wasn't gifted her second tiara until the King and Queen were certain she had "staying power" a year after the wedding. In the years following her wedding, Shelby has worn her scroll and anthemion tiara consistently, but with mixed reactions. The tiara remains controversial among many royal watchers due to its cobbled-together profile. Over the years, criticisms from royal watchers have piled up on social media and online comment sections. Here is a selection of commentary from the online Forum Sunderland's Royal Tea:

The Duchess works so hard and frequently represents the family, it's a shame they still haven't given her a worthy tiara. She's such a classy and elegant lady. How on earth did she get saddled with this Franken? It seems a waste of priceless jewels to have them used so artlessly. Prince Henry is adorable, alas, like so many others in his family, he's inherited ye ol' tin eye when it comes to altering jewellery. Queen Anne was really the last of a generation. Unlike Courtney, the dignified Shelby did not voice any of the disappointment we would have all felt so she has my full respect. The lovely Princess Jacqueline had the best wedding ensemble of HMTK's children, with an excellent gown and a beaut tiara w/ family significance. Tatiana had a boring gown but also an excellent tiara. Courtney's dress and tiara were M-O-R (middle of the road). But poor Shelby, the only one with a happy, drama-free marriage, had a meh gown and a HEDIOUS tiara. I weep for her. RE: The lovely Prin . . . IMHO Shelby got the best deal of the four: a happy marriage with a loving husband who is alive and mentally sound (no smoking or drugs!!) + a sweet little girl w/ one on the way! RE: IMHO Shelby go. . . She kept her man and caused the least trouble, that's why she's our fav 😊

Regardless of the opinions on Shelby's wedding tiara, it remains her most worn tiara to this day. It is unlikely she will be granted another tiara in the near future.

#warwick.jewels #✨#ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 royal #ts4 storytelling #ts4 edit #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 legacy #ts4 royalty #ts4 monarchy #ts4 screenshots

33 notes · View notes

blueplumbbob · 5 months ago

Text

The Royal Jewels of Iverny (part 1)

Queen Catherine's Emerald Diadem

Out of any tiara in the Ivernian royal collection, none are more closely associated with one specific member of the royal family than the emerald and diamond kokoshnik often worn by Princess Claudia, Princess Royal. While it is lovingly called "Princess Claudia's Tiara" by both the public and the royal family, the tiara is formally known as Queen Catherine's Emerald Diadem.

In 1891, Grand Duchess Yekaterina Alexandrovna of Russia, a great-granddaughter of Emperor Paul I of Russia, was betrothed to the third son of King Philip III of Iverny and Queen Mary Josephine, Prince Richard, the future Duke of Ettinger. As a wedding gift, the bride's parents commissioned a kokoshnik tiara set with emeralds from the collections of the bride's grandmothers, Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna and Grand Duchess Anna Feodorovna. The young Yekaterina was delighted, and the tiara became a beloved reminder of home as she entered in to a new chapter of life in Iverny as Duchess of Ettinger.

After the tragic and sudden death of her niece Queen Jane II in the fall of 1918, Catherine stepped into her new role as consort alongside her husband, the newly crowned King Richard V. Her emerald kokoshnik tiara was worn for countless state dinners, galas, balls, and portraits throughout her eight-year tenure as queen, and into the 1930s and 1940s in her role as Queen Mother.

In 1949, on the occasion of her granddaughter's 15th birthday, Queen Catherine gifted the tiara to King Arthur V's only daughter, Princess Catherine. The young Princess Royal was said to be "positively elated" by the gift from her namesake. The Princess Royal wore the tiara regularly up until the early 1970s, when she gifted it to her niece, Princess Claudia. Reportedly, the note given to Princess Claudia alongside the tiara read "from one Princess Royal to Another, from your dear Aunt Cathy."

Princess Claudia first debuted Queen Catherine's Emerald Diadem in 1972. Over the past fifty years, the Princess Royal has worn the tiara almost exclusively, from her brother's coronation in 1976 to her own wedding in 1988 to nearly every state dinner. It is unknown if the Princess Royal will continue to wear the tiara into her old age, or if she will pass it on to her own niece, the junior Princess Royal, Princess Caroline, Countess Hatheway, as many anticipate.

HRH Catherine, Duchess of Ettinger, wears the yet-unnamed tiara in a portrait photograph, 1893.

HM Queen Catherine's first official painted portrait in her role as Queen consort, 1921.

HRH Princess Catherine, Princess Royal, wears her grandmother's Emerald Diadem at the French State Dinner, 1957.

HRH Princess Claudia, Princess Royal, shakes hands with guests at His Majesty's Charity Benefit Gala in Gaucelin, 1980.

post inspired by @warwickroyals 💙

#sims 4 #ts4 royalty #the lorimers #ivernian royal jewels #lorimers: queen catherine #lorimers: princess catherine #lorimers: claudia #bluep.txt

33 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 2 years ago

Note

Nico Hischier smut with maybe honeymoon sex? he loves calling you Mrs.Hischier and falls in love with the matching wedding bands

A/N: K yes. Like.. I saw the first sentence and was 100% invested in this. Mostly because I planned doing some sort of honeymoon smut for What My World Spins Around AU. But also because who doesn't want what's below this cut??? So here we go. We can always go back to the wedding if we want to 😉

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SMUTTTT (18+ Content)

Salty ocean air mixes with warm coffee in the early morning. The sunlight glitters off the sea as I savor the quiet moment by myself. Nico and I got married two days ago. It’s hard to believe the day already came and went, even as the large, diamond rimmed wedding band weighs my left hand down. We had everything we needed. Great company, incredible food, flowing drinks, and willing wedding guests that kept the party going well past 3 am. Nico and I were in a daze when we got to the Costa Brava region of Spain yesterday. We collapsed into bed, curled into each other and slept until this morning.

We rented a private villa along the coast with gorgeous Mediterranean views. The villa has five bedrooms, a large kitchen, multiple living spaces, and a pool-hot tub salt water combination that looks to die for. I am itching to get in there. I bring my coffee to my lips again, looking over my shoulder into the bedroom. Nico is there, stretched out on his stomach, arms crunching the pillow under his head. His few days of stubble and long eye lashes make his dreamy, prince charming look complete. The comforter has slid down his back to just below his hips. My eyes focus on the two distinct ridges of muscle that come together in a V there before disappearing beneath his boxer briefs.

The pool isn’t the only thing I’m itching for.

Weddings are a whirlwind of fun and exhaustion, so was getting here from Switzerland, and we haven’t had a chance to celebrate intimately. I look down at the robe I’m wearing, grinning at the white, provocative lingerie that waits for him whenever he decides to join me.

I don’t have to wait much longer. The sun shifts up the bed into his face and he squints out at me. When our gazes connect, I give him a coy smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Hischier.” He bites down on his bottom lip, tossing the comforter to the side and strutting towards me. He looks so damn good- toned and hard, but safe. He comes to the table, resting a hand on it and the back of my chair to enclose me into our kiss.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hischier.” He murmurs against my lips. His tongue snakes out, gently gliding along the seam of my lips. “Ooo, that coffee tastes good on you.” He licks his lips, reaching for the cup I extend to him. He takes a sip and closes his eyes in a brief moment of appreciation.

When he hands me the cup back, he sees a peak of my white bra. His fingers hook into the shoulder of my robe, pushing the fabric down to expose more of the top. His eyebrows peak in excitement as he runs a finger along the taut white strap, down my chest to run along the top of my right breast. Goosebumps pebble along my chest, following his finger as it moves to the other swell. My nipples tighten into hard buds against the lace fabric. Each of Nico’s fingers trail over them causing a feminine grunt to drop from my mouth. He loosens the tie of my robe to see the rest of the set. Two, thin bands hold the panties in place- one around my natural waist and one around my hips. The piece is finished off with white lace along the front and not much on the back.

“You’re going to be worth the wait, aren’t you baby?” He asks me, pushing the robe off my other shoulder.

“You tell me.” I whisper.

He kneels down on the ground to get level with me. His hands gently glide my legs apart so he can come closer. I watch his approach with hooded eyes. His head dips, lips pressing gentle smooches along my large, plumped breasts. My eyes close completely, fingers racing through his hair to gently scratch at his scalp.

He grabs the straps of my panties in his hands, pulling them off my legs to expose me to him and the ocean air. My chest is rising and falling in anticipation as he takes in the view.

“Mrs. Hischier, you’re soaked for me.”

“Make me come, babe.” I beg him as he takes his time raking his gaze over me.

“Right here?” He acts all scandalous. “Where the neighbors can hear?”

“Yes, please.”

“Mmm, only since you asked so nicely.” He chuckles. His large palms slide under me, gliding against the seat until he takes my full ass cheeks in his hands. He brings me slightly up to his mouth. I think he’s going to tease me, but he doesn’t. His full lips close over my clit, suckling my slick flesh into his mouth. My eyes close, then burst open in excitement as he laps his tongue generously against my folds. My inner muscles pulse, catching his attention. He glides a finger through my excitement, smearing it up my folds until I’m equally soaked all over. “You look so pretty, baby. All wet and pink, wearing my ring.”

This for the rest of my life? Fuck.

I drape my leg over his shoulder. His left hand moves from my ass, dragging his fingertips down my thigh. Each inch of my leg savors the coolness of his wedding band. It’s a new, exquisite feeling that I’m not sure I want to get used to. It accelerated the desire bursting through my veins. I look down at him working his mouth on me. He looks so good. He pulls away to focus his tongue against my clit. I snap my head back between my shoulder blades, howling to the sky.

“Little quieter, sweets.” Nico snickers against my quivering folds.

“No, It’s too good.” I moan as he works his tongue in just the right rhythm.

“Tell me more.”

“You’re perfect, Neeks. Please don’t stop. Fuck.” My body trembles as I feel the orgasm begin to descend. It starts from my core, slowly leaking, begging Nico for more as I push his face deeper in with my left hand. My wedding rings shimmers in the morning sunlight against his dark hair. I jolt, abdomen tightening, then turning into pudding as I come loudly and wetly against his face. Nico kisses me through the aftershocks, working his lips up the thigh still draped around his shoulder.

“I’m going to worship you like that forever.” He promises me as he places my leg back on the ground.

He stands, sporting a seriously large erection, reaching down to wrap his arms around my waist. He lifts me into his arms, carrying me back inside the bedroom where he tosses me onto my back, then nudges me to roll to my stomach. He hovers above me at the side of the bed, looking down at my spread legs, flushed cheeks, rapid breathing and wild hair. He likes what he sees, grinning, as he leans over me, underwear removed to slide into me.

As he pushes into my wet heat, he laces our left hands together. Our matching rings catch one another with his first thrust into me. I lay my head back against his shoulder as he begins to pump steadily. My teeth annihilate my bottom lip at the pleasure sweeping through my body. My breasts get heavy, begging for release into the air- for someone to touch them. I reach back half-heartedly to unclasp the band. Nico bats my hand away, undoing the hooks with his expert touch. My breasts bound free. Nico’s hand comes around, stroking my right nipple as he pushes deeper.

“Ohmygod.” I groan, letting my forehead fall to the bed. I arch my back into his thrusts as he increases his motion. He is pounding forcefully into me, giving me everything he’s got as the pent up emotions and celebration and lust guide his aggressive hips.

“Wish you could see how beautiful you look taking me like this.”

That gets me.

Stars explode behind my screwed shut eye lids as I come on him. I’m so loud. Swear words and groans fall from my lips as my breathing hitches higher and higher. I can feel his grin on my shoulder as he fucks me harder. I jolt, feeling a second orgasm come just after the first, making me wiggle against his firm grasp on my hips. He doesn’t relent, pushing us both over the edge again as I feel my overstimulated muscles grip his sputtering cock.

“Fuuuuuck.” Nico yells, slapping his hands over mine as he jerks his hips into me a final time. “Baby.” He moans when he is done. I can’t respond. My face is shoved so deep into the mattress that I can’t breathe or speak and I don’t care. He tries to pull out and my muscles clench in protest. He coasts himself back in, working himself out slower in small, gentle thrusts. “You’re not done with me?” He asks, reaching a hand around to grope my breast., thumbing my nipple into a hard peak.

“Not even close.” I say as I snap my head up hair whipping against his face as he jolts back in surprise. “Fuck me like that again.”

“I need a minute.” He says, eyes wide at my reaction. He strokes his hand along his softening cock, eyes glinting as he watches the fire in my eyes. “Who is this?” His smirk has me licking my lips greedily.

“Nico Hischier’s hot wife. You going to take care of me like you promised?” I challenge.

He launches forward, silencing any other words that want to come out of my mouth.

We don’t see much of Spain after that.

I’m a bit disappointed on the flight back to Switzerland, but Nico assures me we’ll be back again soon.

#nico hischier #nico hischier blurbs #nico hischier fan fiction #nico hischier smut #hockey writing #NHL fan fiction #my writing #writing requests #New Jersey devils

355 notes · View notes