#grigor dymov x reader

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised- Finale (Grigor Dymov x fem! Reader, Arranged Marriage AU series)

Series Summary: When Emperor Peter's behavior towards your family threatens the alliance between them and Russia, the only way to solve it from breaking is through an arranged marriage with his friend, the handsome but heartbroken Count Grigor Dymov. A man you barely know.

Previous Chapters: One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//Ten//Eleven

Chapter Summary: You and Grigor enjoy a long-denied honeymoon

Content Warnings: Some discussions of sex and cursing and mentions of pregnancy and babies- don't worry, Y/N isn't pregnant. But VERY fluffy!

Word Count: 1584

A/N: Thank you guys so much for supporting this series throughout! Now I thought was the best time to conclude it! When season 3 of The Great comes out and should I get inspired, there might be a season 2 of this fic like what @ladystrallan did with I Really Wish I Hated You (which, btw, highly recommend if you love The Great Fanfics). Who knows?! But I hope all of you loved reading it as much as I loved writing this series!

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Taglist:

General Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @queenlover05​ @seraphicmercury

Promised Taglist: Taglist: @itsametaphorgwil​ @bluesfortheredj​ @grigorlee​ @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joeslee   @grigorlee @itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @jamesbuckybarns​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @rhapsodyrecs​ @ladystrallan​​ ​

You and Grigor were planning on returning to court. You both just wanted something denied to you when you were rushed to be married and when there was a coup- a honeymoon. Three whole months of a honeymoon.

The days were never more lovely- lovemaking at night, awakening when one felt like it, the most sumptuous meals, playing cards by the fireside, reading to each other, and you showing off the various songs you knew how to play. You were starting to teach Grigor chords and his clumsy practicing of scales with mutters of “fuck!” at a mistake could be heard. You still kept shooting practice, but you were relaxed, not caring if you missed the odd target.

It was quite warm for Russia the past two weeks. Flowers were deep in their bloom in the gardens, and it was green everywhere. The vineyards seemed to be a far brighter green than you expected. Perhaps springtime was arriving sooner than you expected or maybe it was a warm spot for a few days. You had to wear your lighter silks as opposed to the warm furs to keep one safe from your new home country’s notorious chill.

As you and your husband toured the grounds together that afternoon, there were fruits of light green and dark purple. You would both look at each other, pluck the small fruits, and try bites of them yourself, feeling the juicy sweetness burst on your tongues, as if only briefly. Grigor would wipe the juice off of his sleeve and give you a kiss and you would taste the grape in his breath as if combined with yours you made your own special wine. Grigor was in his favorite deep green. You had insisted he keep a few buttons down so you could see some of his chest hair. You insisted it was absolutely sexy of him when he wore shirts (especially white ones) with a few buttons undone and he took note. Yes, it was the wrong color today, but you didn’t care. Perhaps that could wait for later tonight when you would hop on him like a rabbit until you screamed each other’s names, not caring about disturbing the servants sleeping below. You were in a bright red dress with golden floral patterns all over it and you perfumed yourself with rose water.

You matched and complimented in your dress as had your souls on the inside- each perfect and making only the other look better when beside it.

You emerged from the kiss and wiped your hand on your skirt.

“Could you hold my hand, my dear?” you asked, presenting your hand out.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh abso-fucking-lutely,” he replied, eagerly taking yours.

It was warm and encompassing, the fingers intertwined within each other to feel the pulse of each other. As you both walked back home, the day was fading. The sky turned into a mix of orange and pink and the crispness of evening etched around you. Once you approached back to the manor, the housekeeper greeted you both and assured you that dinner would be ready in one or two hours. Olga, the little servant girl, handed you back your beloved dog and both of you cooed over her.

“Oh and Madame Dymova! Here! Messenger said it’s from Paris! And it’s for you and the master!” she added on, handing over a letter with a familiar wax seal.

Before you could comment on it, Sonya let out a bright bark for want of attention.

“Here Sonya- found this! Here- Good girl!” Grigor offered.

From his pocket, he pulled out a truffle and fed it to the eager and always hungry pup.

“Would you like some wine? There’s a new one they just made here and it’s fucking astounding,” he offered.

“Oh, yes! And ask the kitchen for a plate of bread and cheese and fruit, perhaps?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not!” he replied, giving you a peck on your forehead before going down to the kitchen.

You made your way to the back porch area outside on your white seats and white chairs. You found it had not grown so chilly that you would require heaps of blankets as you have in the past. Sonya lay happily on your lap panting away. Though grown, she still saw herself as a puppy who had to have every last of her needs attended to, or else her mistress would hear her barking and mischief. But you loved her more for it.

You pulled from your reticule an unopened letter from the dress of your pocket. It couldn’t be your family- you heard just yesterday that you were an aunt to a beautiful little niece. Both you and Grigor were already making plans to travel and visit your family and for you to be introduced and be acquainted with his own. So, who could it be? Was it Catherine about her baby or the new education laws? Orlo recommending a new philosophy book to you? Who? You saw the name on it and gasped.

“It’s George! George wrote to us!” you told Sonya, who only tilted her head.

You then ripped it open and smiled, your heart touched by the contents. From the corner, you saw Grigor come out to approach the table. He smiled, holding two glasses of wine, and giving one to you.

“Why thank you, darling!” you chirruped at him.

“No problem at all,” he answered.

A servant immediately arrived behind and held a platter of cheeses, slices of bread, and apples. His blue eyes went to the letter.

“What is that? Who is it?” he asked.

You smiled, handing him the papers.

“Why, it’s George!? Can’t you believe it? She’s in Paris of all places! Oh, that must be wonderful! And here…she said she met someone who she truly loves and who loves her! Oh, I’m so happy for her! We must write back and ask her more about this!” you squealed.

“Why- how good for her! I’m glad!” Grigor wished genuinely with a shrug and a relaxed smile.

Both of you held up your glasses of wine.

“Should we toast to her?” you asked.

Grigor shook his head.

“I have a better one. To what brought us together in the first place. Here, Y/N-to the alliance!”

“To the alliance!” you agreed, daintily clinking your glasses.

Both of you took a first sip.

“It won’t be too long before we return- so much will be different…” Grigor began.

“I’m just glad Marial is in prison…I’ve slept better at night since then…” you sighed.

He did frown briefly. He took a deep drink and set down his glass.

“Well…part of me is eager. Been worried sick over Peter.”

“But you always are, you silly shit!” you teased, setting your own glass down.

He smiled at the words. You thought there was never a more beautiful smile than that of Grigor Dymov when he was well and truly happy. Your heart would always burst with love for him at the sight.

His letters seem fine and happy though…he’s thrilled about the baby. Got a name picked out and everything!”

“What if we have a baby- will we be even ready for that?” you suggested.

So far, your courses were like clockwork and Grigor would spoil you with bedrest and vodka and embraces when the cramps tormented you. But that doesn’t mean the time would never come. In fact, with all the fucking you had been doing it was a pure miracle it hadn’t happened yet!

“I don’t know if we’ll ever be, Y/N…but what about life after the coup? Things will be so…so different. Peter’s not in charge as much. There’s a royal baby on the way. George is in France. Catherine’s changing all the laws to what she wants. Everything is upside down…” he muttered.

“But we can take it…” you assured him.

He clutched his hand onto yours in response and you used your other hand to rest it on his cheek. He relaxed into it, using a hand to touch yours.

“We can take anything as long as we’re together, darling,” he replied.

“Of course, we can, my dear husband…” you cooed.

"Oh, say that again!” he insisted.

You crawled on his lap, kissing his face- his freckles, his forehead, his cheekbones, his chin.

“Dear husband, dear husband, my Grigor, my darling…” you mumbled between the kisses.

“Fuck, you make me hard. Keep it up and I might have to have you on this table before dinner!” he confessed.

“Wait until after dinner!” you insisted with a joking slap on his arm.

“If Countess Dymova requests it, who am I to deny her that!” he gave in.

You giggled and paused. Both of you breathe deeply the warmth of each other and the closeness.

He kissed you with soft lips again, but there was a chasteness- a tenderness to how he cupped your cheek when it happened. You cuddled into his chest as the sun set and he placed an arm around you to draw circles on your back as the dog lay contentedly smiling on the floor with her pink tongue out.

You were happy. After such chaos you had been through- you were completely happy. Dinner was about to be served. You had a home in court and out. You had a precious pup. You had friends. And most of all, you had found a happy, faithful marriage. And a husband who you loved and who loved you.

And this time the wine did in fact not taste like shit.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Grigor x female!reader 

tw: miscarriage, mentions of blood, general angst

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He had been hunting with Peter when an extraordinarily brave footman came out of the clearing to give him the news. His wife had called for the doctor, and he must come back immediately.

Peter was obviously disappoint that his rabbit hunt had been cut short, but Grigor was too concerned for his wife to worry too much about Peter’s dampened feelings this time. His wife needed him. A thousand thoughts came to him as he rushed through the hall towards their apartments. She had been fine this morning. What could possibly be wrong.

As he came to their chambers, he slowed as he saw the familiar red  coif of Elizabeth coming out. “Oh! Hello my darling.”

“Elizabeth? What are you....“I came to see your wife. She is...unwell.”

“Unwell?” Grigor repeated in alarm. “Is she sick? Has she been hurt? What-?” Elizabeth raised her hand to cut him off again. Softly.

“She is alright. What has happened is quite common actually. You see, she has had a miscarriage.”

“A miscarriage?” His words were so quite they barely reached his own ears.

“It’s when the babe inside you dies in the womb and is expelled out. Alarming, more than anything, and as I said quite common in women of the court. But it is...upsetting to most women. The first time.”

Grigor processed what Elizabeth was saying and felt like a stone had been thrown into his stomach. The baby, his child, was gone. Never drawn breath. Never seen it’s mothers face. Never had a chance.

His hands lace behind his head as he began to pace a little, and his chronic dust storm aliment pricking his eyes. “What um....What do I do?”

“You must be patient and loving with her.” Grigor scoffed at that. Not his best strong suits. “She will be sad, and raw. But soon will look to the future of trying again, when she is ready. For now all you must do is be by her side. As I know you can.”

Grigor stopped pacing to look at Elizabeth. “You really think that?”

“Of course. You are a man of honor and sound mind. I have always thought that.”

“You don’t even know me. This is the first conversation we have had at length since I was....15.”

“Yes, well, you are Peter’s best friend. And as you were coming into manhood and more handsome, I harbor dreams of fucking you. Taking you back to my quarters and teaching that nubile body of yours a thing or two about being with a woman. But, you are Peter’s best friend, and that seemed wrong, so distance seemed more appropriate.”

“I uh...thank you...” His mind was in a daze about the news of his wife’s miscarriage, and this new news of his best friend’s aunt wanting to fuck him.

As usual, Elizabeth just smiled and patted him on the shoulder as she walked past. Her easy confidence sort of a salve for the situation. Painful, still, but soothing to a dull ache.

Steeling himself, Grigor opened the door and went inside. He could tell, as he walked further in, that there had been a flurry of movement in the room. Chairs moved. Bedding shuffled. There was blood on some sheets and rags some serf was most likely to take away at some point, but had left them when they left her alone. Probably at her insistence. [Y/N] hated for people to see her cry. Which she was doing silently as he came closer to the bed.

“Is there...anything I can get for you? Anything I can do?” He asked after a long pause. Not sure if this was the right thing or wrong thing to do, but silence didn’t seem the answer either.

“I’m sorry.” Her soft, choked up voice replied, and it broke Grigor’s heart that he just had to scoop her up in his arms. Again, not sure if it was right or wrong, but it was what he wanted to do.

“No, no, no. Don’t say that. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He assured as he held her close. “These things....they happen.” He didn’t mention that Elizabeth had told him it was common. “You haven’t done anything wrong. We’ll try again. Or not. But never be sorry my love.”

They held each other close and cried for a while. She was indeed fragile and raw for a few days, but Grigor tried to be patient with her. He wanted to take her to their country estate, but she refused to ‘run away’ from this. His wife was strong.

Eventually she did recover and start plans for the future. Grigor was in no rush, but was happy to see that she was alright; and willing to look to the future.

[totheempressofrussia]

and! i also have a grigor dymov x reader series too:

chapter 1

chapter 2

these chapters are v smutty so be warned

[queensdivas]

Peonies Chapter 8

It has been a while since I've posted about Grigor or The Great. Y'all I have been busy with finals and another fic on archive that has been my favorite thing to write. If you've ever watched The Terror from AMC then you'll enjoy this.

But I haven't forgot about one of my favorite fics. Never.

Other than that! Here we go after weeks of not writing.

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

The idea of falling asleep after today just sounds nauseating. Seeing the horrors in front of me then coming back to my apartment for Peter wanting to kill me. Then for Grigor to storm off due to the fact that he thought I would lay with my own cousin by marriage. Yes I’m well aware that’s still a common practice amongst the Monarchs of the world but not in my book!

Turning my head to watch the flames slowly begin to die down before my eyes. The room was beginning to spiral into that infamous Russian cold. I didn’t feel like throwing another log on since part of me thinks I deserve to be in the wintry world that I have chosen to live in.

This plan for making Catherine the ruler of all Russia is becoming stale. What have we done that’s been achievable anyhow! Go to the front to feed a bunch of soldiers! You saw what happened when I alone tried to help Peter! Catherine influenced a new Patriarch yet the women of the court still find Catherine to be an annoyance. There has been absolutely no effort or somewhat change Catherine has done to make things more in her favor. God she is a child thrown into a world that she has no idea what she's doing. Although I should be guiding...but...

What good am I doing here! I feel as if I’m just now a fuck toy for Grigor to feel a womens touch since his wife is with the Emporer on a daily basis! Throwing the blanket off me to march over to the nearest vase and chuck it across the room!

A screech left my body as I cleared everything off the vanity onto the floor. I could feel the blood rushing through me for this anger to spiral out of control! This stupid country! Grabbing a book to throw it against the wall!

THIS STUPID COUNTRY!

HOW CAN ONE FUCKING BELONG TO THIS COURT!

HOW CAN ONE SINGLE HUMAN BE SUCH AN ABSOLUTE MORON! AND YES THAT HUMAN IS ME!

WHY DOESN’T HE TRUST ME!

I’M NOT HIS WIFE!

THIS STUPID GOD DAMN COUNTRY!

IT’S MAKING ME QUESTION EVERY SINGLE THREAD OF INSANITY I HAVE BECAUSE THE MAN I’M BEGINNING TO FALL FOR HAS MAJOR TRUST ISSUES! CAN’T HE SEE THAT I AM A ONE MAN ONE WOMEN SORT OF WOMAN!

YES I’M A WHORE TO A MAR….

Huh...would you look at that Chiara? All because he lit a fire under your own ass because everyone else around you stays clear of it.

I…..

I feel nothing….

Maybe the cold will make me feel something in this empty body. Grabbing the handles of the window to pull them out. They smacked against the walls for the wind to soar through my room. It flew through my hair for the first few seconds for it to stop. The cold swaddled me up but I didn’t move from the window.

I do not deserve the things I have been given in life. For I am a cold hearted bitch with almost no remorse in my actions. I could possibly kill a hundred people and proclaim it to be for the greater good. No sense of remorse or sadness.

How could Grigor want to love someone as vile as me..I am cold..evil. Someone like me doesn’t deserve the warm embrace of what love is. This lust is beginning to form into the most dangerous tool one can have in their life. For it can bring life and destroy it in a matter of seconds.

I miss his touch..the way his fingers would glide across my arm as we snuggled together on the bed. The way he kissed my forehead after a long time of making love. Him showing me his drawings and I know he’s drawing me in my sleep! It hurts to feel this sort of way! I don’t want to feel anything! This feeling is almost heart wrenching and...beautiful.

My breathing began to choke till the only warmth that was on my body was the singular tear that had escaped my eye. I’m not a crier. Though we Italians embrace our emotions and turn it into something beautiful, I think this tear is a sense of relief. If I didn’t feel anything. I wouldn’t be whimpering in front of an open window.

A gentle beat from the door echoed through my room as I didn’t even move. If Peter was sending his soldiers to kill me I get the feeling there would be no knock. Please let it be Grigor. I need to feel his touch and tell him the truth. Not all of it but at least enough that I don’t spoil my plans for Catherine.

I closed the window to hurry over to the fire and toss a log in. If it’s Grigor then he probably would prefer something a little warmer. Please him please. Grabbing my robe to put it on as I opened the door. My eyes expanded from the confusion of who was standing before me in my bed robes.

“Elizabeth?” Well if she was coming to kill me I imagine my room has some sort of secret entrance and would’ve done it in my sleep.

“I hope I didn't disturb you. I think we need to have a little chat.”

“We do?” Dear God if Peter opened his mouth about what he started and what I finished I’m going to go kill him myself!

“Yes. May I come in?” Taking a step back for the door to open. She was in her bed clothes as she noticed the mess I had made in my room.

“The work of Peter no less?” I kept my mouth shut for once waiting for her to say something more. She’s going to defend Peter as much as she can. Probably for his own father who I imagine she secretly loved. From my understanding Peter the Great was also quite promiscuous just like his mother. A family of harlots.

“I heard from Peter what happened here early today. I highly doubt that you called him a bastard since he can be quite over dramatic.” So she’s aware that he’s a sniffling bastard whose inability to rule is quite prominent.

“Not talking much tonight are you? Usually you have a comment to say if I were in here talking about Peter.”

“For once Elizabeth. I could truly give a shit about Peter and his antics. I’m not here to please him and make him happy. I’m here for Catherine and making her more comfortable with her new station.” Try not to think that we might kill her own Nephew in a good amount of time. If not by Catherine then by the military.

“You’re not angry that he was in here and wanted to kill you?” She sat down in front of the fire in the love seat for me to stand before here.

“Your nephew. My cousin by marriage is a harmless little bug in my life Elizabeth. His actions were not even worth a single drop of sweat from my brow.”

“Did the stabbing of a major General not scare you? As an outsider I thought it would have scared you horribly.”

“Not scared. More gasping which then leads to utter annoyance. I am more than capable of handling Peter when he’s in a state of anger trying to kill me. What do you even want because I would like some sort of rest.”

“Be more gentle when it comes..

“Just because his mother was a horrid woman does not excuse his actions Elizabeth! That’s saying Zeus should be considered a kind man even though he raped Leda because of his own mental state. Peter thinks of him as Zeus when in reality he is worse than Hades himself! Life is horrid Elizabeth and constantly blaming his issues on his mother is disgusting and you standing here trying to defend him holds you accountable for his actions.”

“What an interesting comparison. You are a very bright woman and that wicked tongue is able to strike anyone down.”

“I can strike down anyone with tongue and steel.” Taking in a sharp breath to walk over to a full bottle of sweet red wine.

“Would you like a glass?” Asking for her to nod. Popping off the court to grab two glasses then bringing two glasses over for us. Sitting down across from here to begin pouring her a glass. She motioned for me to stop for me to pour myself some as well.

“I apologise dear Aunt Elizabeth. I sometimes forget to catch my tongue before it falls out of my head.” We both took a long drink to the point when we were done I had to pour a little more between us.

“It’s quite alright. I’m just grateful you didn’t kill my beloved Nephew before it was too late.” Before I could answer the doors bursted open.

“Excuse me mam?” Turning to see a serf was standing by the door of my world. Did something happen to Fernanda?

“Zasha? What is it?” Elizabeth stood up from my chair to approach her.

“It’s the Emperor. He’s fallen gravely ill.” Well. That is going to solve our problems much faster than I thought it was going to happen. She wrapped herself around her robe as we began walking out of my bedroom.

“Why are you coming? I thought you despised him” She asked for me to nod but was still walking.

“We’re family by marriage. He is now my cousin whether I like it or not.” Turning the corner to see that Orlo, George...and Grigor were waiting outside the room. Splendid. I imagine his wife was ready to lay in bed yet stumbled into that mess.

“From what I’ve seen and heard it sounds bad. A lot of vomit and blood.” Orlo told us to stand next to Orlo. One of the priests that was in the room came out with the black mask on his face to then take it off before us.

“You may not enter the room. For it might be contagious till the doctor tells you differently. For he’s running a high fever, a lot of vomiting, and has been seeing strange visions. The Archbishop is there with him now. He’ll tell you more once he comes out.” Is...Is that vomit on his mask? Or...dear god. He walked past us heading down the hall towards the apartments.

“How is he?” Catherine came in with a very well detailed look of uneasiness.

“Very ill.” Elizabeth told Catherine for my eyes to drift over to Grigor. He was holding onto George but staring directly at me. Stupid man. Stupid man!

“Can we go in?” Catherine asked Orlo but I’m assuming not.

“Well everyones being kept out here.”

“In fear of contagion.” Finally looking at Grigor again for us to lock eyes for a brief instant till I turned to Catherine.

“He’s been vomiting continuously throughout the night, and he runs a high fever, and he has fits of wild delirium.”

“The Doctor and Archbishop are with him.” I told her to place my hands on her shoulder to give some comfort to this poor wife and my cousin. The door opened for a child to come out with a bowl filled with blood and vomit. Not to mention his entire body was covered head to toe in Peters upchuck...and from the smell..the back door was also used as well.

“Excuse me.” Oh the smell! Covering my nose for Grigor and I to look at one another again. He doesn’t look concerned. Is that a smile?

We all leaned into the doorway to see what was happening in there since we could only hear the sound of Peter vomiting and coughing more and more. I did the sign of the cross to hold onto my cross necklace. I don’t pray for Peter. But I pray for the Doctor inside the room that he stays safe from whatever disease has fallen upon Peter. Peter could go to hell for all I care, but I have to keep up appearances.

The Archbishop popped in the doorway for us to straighten our backs. He came out of his bedroom to close the door behind him. Grigor inched a little closer to me to the point I could sense the warmth radiating off him.

“How is he?” Grigor asked for the Archbishop to stare directly at us.

“Extremely ill. The fear is that it may be Cholera.”

“Cholera?” That’s a rough sickness. Even I wouldn’t wish that sort of death on my enemy.

“Which I suspect he will have caught from a possessed, nocturnal animal. Probably a badger.” If I ever get sick in this country I would rather just endure the ride home and die in a carriage. These doctors are not touching me with a ten foot pole!

“Where would he have come across a possessed badger?” Catherine asked thankfully. That sounds absolutely unrealistic and not how you even got Cholera. Not that I don’t know how you get Cholera but I imagine it’s not from a possessed badger.

“If it is Cholera, he will die, will he not?” Holding her a little tighter as a cue to sound a lot more concerned. You have to make it believable that you’re distraught that he might die!

“It’s a strong possibility that we must face.” Looking at Orlo who kept the same straight face he usually has.

“Oh my little man.” THE POOR BABY! I WILL WEEP WITH A BOTTLE OF WINE AND GLORIOUS MUSIC!

“The Doctor is working hard on cures. It may be something else.”

“Has he said anything? Is he talking?” Why would he be concerned if he’s talking? Grigor might as well give a shit if he truly dies or not.

“He speaks intermittently. Much of it is deranged. Said he was a wolf, and wanted to eat Swedish children for breakfast. And there was some talk of what he’d like to do to Chiara and with various ladies of the court. I’ll spare you the details.” My body ran cold for Catherine to turn and face me. The blood in my body felt as if it dried up as I wanted to vomit. Looking at Grigor as I felt so disgusted with myself.

“Before more bouts of diarrhea and vomiting.” The Archbishop went back in for Grigor to take in a deep breath.

“I will go in to see him.” Say what?

“Do not risk your life.” Elizabeth told him as he stopped in the doorway.

“I want to be there for my friend.” Bullshit! He could give an absolute shit about Peter at this point!

“I had no idea your husband was so brave, Georgina.”

“Oh yes famously so.”

“In more ways than one.” Adding into the conversation for George to turn and face me.

“Just being honest.” An angry snake she is when I add my own little comments. Settle down hypocrites.

Orlo, Catherine, and I huddled into our own group to see the expression of Catherines face change from the fake grieving widow to an excited future ruler. Must admit this is a little exciting for me as well.

“If this is Cholera, he could be dead within the day.” Orlo told us as Catherine was beginning to smile slightly but trying to control herself.

“Right. That means..”

“Yes. Yes it will be yours. You will rule Russia.” By God it’s going to actually happen.

“After all our planning..it just..”

“Falls right into your lap.” Orlo finished as the doors opened back up. The ArchBishop came out of the room to take off his mask. Remember when I said that this planning became stale? I stand corrected and I was completely wrong. This just made everything better.

“In light of this terrible situation, a meeting is being called to deal with the possible transition of power.”

“To me.” Easy Catherine. That’s a little too exciting for someone who's losing their husband.

“Indeed. It seems so. You are the next...should the worst happen.” Seems like the worst is about to happen right before them. If it’s going this quickly then I might be going home soon! Finally an end to this horrid nightmare and cesspool!

“Prepare with prayer, and the senate will be called.”

“I look forward to it.” Damn it Catherine!

“Not him dying. That is bad. And sad. And we hope for the best and a speedy recovery.” If I could slap my own face I would without making this seem like we’re excited that Peter is dying.

“God will be with us. He always is.” The Archbishop left the hall for Catherine and Orlo to talk amongst themselves. I need to talk to Grigor. I can’t stand being apart from him at nights for it is his warmth I believe that is keeping me sane. I don’t think I can tell him that I think I’m starting to love him but atleast telling him I need him is a good start.

*Grigors P.O.V.*

DIE! DIE YOU HORRIBLE HUMAN! YOU THINK YOU CAN SLEEP WITH MY OWN LOVE BECAUSE YOU’RE THE EMPEROR! DIE DIE DIE! I WILL KILL YOU AND WILL LIVE PEACEFULLY IN MY OWN LIFE!

Removing the pillow to see that he was still breathing! Bastard! Slamming the pillow back onto him to push down even further in hopes that I might finish the job! Just die! How hard is it to kill someone who's already dying! Talking about Chiara as if she’s just a common peasant!

“What are you doing!?” George yelled as I continued to push down harder and harder.

“What is right and you know it George! I have to do something!”

“Fuck!” George pulled me back as we stopped to see Peter was still breathing. Dragging me from his bed towards the middle of his room.

“I was given the choice to be a man or a child! I’ve decided to become a man for the sake of my sanity!”

“You poisoned him?”

“Arsenic. From the wall in his borscht!” Feeling the cold slap from George as she was in full rage of my actions.

“What happens to us when he’s dead? Think what Peter provides for us!”

“You...you..”

“You’re a stupid fool Grigor!” She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

“Our situation is complex. Yet also simple! We have a safe life with Peter! Luxury, security, a place in court. Who’s he gonna be replaced by? Catherine!? We’re nothing to her! What happens to us then? Not to mention Chiara is making it much more difficult to handle this situation. No thanks to you!”

“So you may have a lover but I may not!” I love Chiara and this marriage is non-existent!

“Grigor?” Peter called for me as I turned to see him barely awake and moving. Say something George! You hypocritical bitch say something!

“We’re here.” George, like a mother goose, flew to Peter's aid. Well. It’s very clear now on where my life stands now. George has made her bed and it is time for me to make my own with a Duchess who isn’t afraid to get the job done when it needs to be done.

Letting go of the pillow to march out of the room and slamming the doors shut. Taking in a few deep breaths to calm myself before scampering off to Chiara. Chiara? Where is she? Perhaps in her chambers!

It was like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel heading to her apartment! The outline of the room was glowing before my eyes. Chiara..my love. The only woman in this world that can make my knees buckle to bow at her feet. That fire is intoxicating to the point that I might die of happiness.

Slamming the door open to see Chiara was in front of the flames looking directly into them. Her head slowly turned to face me with a somber look. A bottle of wine sitting next to her looked thoroughly used. Oh my precious flame. Closing the door to sit down next to her as she went back into looking into the fire.

“I placed my blade against his neck threatening to take his life away. Why didn’t I slice it open? Tell me why I didn’t Grigor?” She asked for me to place my hand on her cheek.

“What happened before I came in?”

“He was mad that I helped Velementov at the front for strategy. He drew a sword on me and I fought back. I won and threatened him that if he were to ever draw his sword on me that I would win. I...I should’ve sliced his throat open and strung him up as if he was game to place on my wall.” I feel like I should tell her that I’m the one that poisoned him. That he is dying in his own bed because the world would be better without him! She was literally going to kill him before I even came into the room!

“Chiara. I’m the one who caused him to become ill. I poisoned him in the borscht while he was eating dinner.” Her expression was the same as before till it clicked in her mind. Her entire face went from a beautiful red to a ghostly white in a matter of seconds.

“Holy shit..” She whispered to turn her attention to the fire. Is she going to tell Catherine? Not that Catherine might care much but what if she does? Would she tell the court? No...no what have I done!

“I would ask why but that..oh my god.” Turning her head to face me as I gulped.

“If it helps, I did it for you. For us..for everyone in the court that his idiocy will go away.” Her lips were slightly open with her breathing beginning to rise.

That lovely color began returning to her cheek as she climbed on top of me and wrapped herself around me. Those entrancing lips striked against mine as my hands traveled up her back to pull her shirt. She stopped to place her index finger on my lips.

“For you committing such a horrendous act. Allow me.” Removing her finger to place a kiss on my lips, to my cheek, then right underneath my jaw line. I could see the stars from how well she was working those luscious lips. Her hand gripped my cock to start playing it through my pants. God her touch. It’s almost too delicious to even allow. My eyes rolled back for me to lay down on the rug for her kisses to start moving down my body.

I love her...I hope that she knows that I would kill an army for her without regret...

~~~

@mirkwoodshewolf @bonafiderocketqueen @johndeaconshands

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @amethyst-serenade @radio-ha-ha@i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @deck-heart @actuallyanita @the-baby-bookworm @ewanmcgregors​ @panagiasikelia​

[assembledherethevolunteers]

Day 11- Reading By The Fire

A/N: Prompt #11 for @acdeaky ‘s writing challenge! I am just now realizing that this didn’t post yesterday, so that’s annoying.

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x Female!Reader

Summary: Your husband and you decide to end your day by the fire.

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, Peter being Peter

Taglist: @queenlover05 @theblossomknows

 You were walking down the corridor, keeping your nose buried in the book you were reading, hoping to keep the attention of The Emperor off you. You weren’t even sure where he was, but better safe than sorry.

You glanced out the window to see the snow of a Russian winter coming down.

“Y/N!”

Shit.

You looked up, but were happy that it was not The Emperor, but rather The Empress. She came up to you, glancing at the book in your hands.

“Ah, one of my favorites. I must borrow it from you once you’ve finished.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Catherine rolled her eyes. “You know you don’t have to call me that.”

You gave her a small smile.

The two of you had become friends since her arrival. However, when it was more than just of two of you or you were in public, you knew your place.

“What are you reading right now?”

Catherine started to explain what book she had been reading when a much more obnoxious voice came booming down the corridor.

“Look, Grigor! We need not go looking for our women! Waiting for us like the good little hens they are.”

Both you and The Empress sighed.

“My wife,” The Emperor was suddenly closer. “Let us go to our chamber. My cock is already hard so we should hurry.” The Emperor walked off, not even waiting for an answer.

The Empress looked at you, exasperated. “We’ll talk more later.”

“Are you not following me?” The Emperor turned around. “Did you not hear me? My cock…”

“Yes, I am on my way!” She followed after him.

“Hello, Y/N,” Grigor said, appearing at your side.

You smiled at him and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Hello, my love. How was hunting?”

“Could have been better. I am exhausted now and covered in fucking snow.”

“Well, let us retire to our apartment then and get you out of those snow covered clothes.”

Grigor intertwined his arm with yours. “Yes, please.”

The two of you walked into your chambers, and you helped him change out of his hunting garb into his sleeping shirt.

Grigor started a fire as you changed into your nightgown. He sat in front of the fire, on the floor, watching you and you changed. It was funny that after all these years, and woman that he could have, he still wanted you.

You walked over and sat next to him in front of the fire. Girgor arranged himself so that his head was in your lap.

You smiled down at him and gently ran your hand through his short hair.

“Will you read to me?”

“Oh, but dear husband, surely you know women are not to be read.”

Gigor rolled his eyes playfully, grabbed your book, and handed it to you. “Please. Nothing would make me happier than falling asleep to your voice.”

You took the book from him and continued reading in a soothing voice so that your husband could relax.

You finished up a few pages, but your eyes started to grow tired at the fire started to die down. You looked down to see your husband, asleep.

He always seemed to be biting his tongue when he was awake, especially in the presence of The Emperor, but when Grigor was asleep, he finally seemed like he was at peace.

“My darling, we should go to the bed. If we stay on the floor you won’t be able to get up in the morning.”

“But we are already down here,” Grigor didn’t open his eyes but scooted closer to you. “And we are warm here.”

“Soon the fire will die and we will be cold,” you leaned down so that you were whispering. “But if we were to sleep in our bed, perhaps we could keep each other warm beneath the sheets.”

Grigor opened his eyes, smiling at you. “Is that a promise?”

[bluesfortheredj]

Grigor the lover.

Smut ahead.

The women in the court could be cruel. Mostly to Catherine since she arrived, but occasionally they’d turn their attentions back to you; making snide comments about how you didn’t quite fit in to their group, or how your choices of gown were limited due to the amount of time it would take to make you one simply because you were little larger than most of them. You didn’t take much notice of them in all honesty because not only did you have a man who completely worshipped your body, but a few other admirers of it as well, including Peter�� unfortunately.

“Peter has summoned us,” Grigor says quietly as he joins you at the window in the main hallway.

Your breath fogs up the glass and you draw an unhappy face in the cloud of white before turning to him and pouting exaggeratedly much to his amusement.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he smiles.

“How?”

“I can’t possibly reveal such things.”

“Grigor,” you whine as you slide your hands up his coat, “please.”

He rolls his eyes at your needy whine that he is powerless to resist but before he can divulge the dirty details of exactly how he’d make it up to you Peter is suddenly at your side with a ridiculous grin on his face as he stares down at your ample bosom before looking up at the window.

“Hello! Oh! Someone’s drawn a face on the window… ha! How odd. Right, come on you two, I need your help.”

He pushes his way between your bodies and links his arms through yours as he marches you both to his dining room where a glorious spread is awaiting you. This was certainly one of the few advantages to being so close to Peter; you had access to the finest food, drink, and fabrics available to him and it was worth the ogling and leering. Peter would encourage you to relax when in his and Grigor’s company such as letting your hair down, loosening your dress, kicking off your shoes… You knew what he was after, as did Grigor, and you let Peter have his eye full of your curvy figure but never anything more, and it seemed to satisfy his lust for you quite well, as well as having quite the effect on your husband who was eager to remind you who you belonged to as soon as you returned to your apartment.

“(Y/N), I insist, as your Emperor, that you forgo any formalities and simply act as if you were in your own sitting room,” Peter smiles as he takes his seat at the head of the table.

You look over at Grigor and give him a wink, “but Peter, if I were to do that I would be sat in Grigor’s lap warming his length inside of me.”

“What a wonderful thought!” Peter exclaims.

Grigor looks up from his food with a confused frown before directing his bemusement towards his friend, and Peter quickly shakes his head at him.

“Not with you, obviously,” he scoffs, “with me! Grigor, tell me what it’s like watching those breasts bounce in front of you when she’s on top.”

“Oh, well, it’s...” he drops his fork and lifts his hands up as if grabbing onto your chest, “it’s absolutely glorious. I mean, there they are, so full and round…” his fingers flex to signify a squeezing motion, “I’m hard just thinking about it to be honest.”

“As am I!” Peter agrees, shifting around in his seat.

You didn’t mind the men chatting like this, you were used to it, and Grigor only indulged Peter’s fantasies because he knew it would keep him from making a move on you, as it could be detrimental to you both if you were to refuse him. Your eyes stay transfixed on your husband as he smiles shyly across the table at you and you have to fight every muscle in your body to stay seated and not walk around to be with him. Grigor talks to Peter but all you can hear is his side of the conversation as you watch his lips move and his hands gesticulate along with his words while his gaze returns to yours for a split second every so often. You were obsessed with the man, completely and utterly consumed by him, and whenever you were with him it was as if the rest of the world didn’t even exist; it was just the two of you in your own little universe.

“Grigor, I’m suddenly feeling very unwell,” you gasp, bringing your hand up to your chest as you feign illness, “may we go back to the apartment?”

“Of course!” Grigor nods, pushing his chair out and making his way to your side of the table.

“Oh, I do hope you feel better soon,” Peter frowns with concern as he watches Grigor help you to your feet, “do let me know if you need anything.”

“We will, thank you,” Grigor replies as you head towards the door.

It’s not long until you’re back in the privacy of your own domain and you drop the act as soon as you’re through the door; pulling loose the lacing of your dress and letting it fall to the floor as you stand there looking at your husband with a devilish smile on your lips.

“You were pretending?” he laughs.

“I want you,” you exhale softly, “I want you so much.”

Grigor takes a sharp inhale of breath as you allow part of your slip dress to fall from your shoulder, pulling the neckline down and teasing him with a glimpse of your soft skin. He falters as he opens his mouth to speak but is unable to form any words, let alone a sentence, but then he blinks twice in quick succession and finally engages his brain.

“Sit on my face,” he says softly.

“What?!” you question, hoping you heard him right.

“I want to lay down on the bed then have you lower yourself right onto my face,” he explains slowly as your mouth falls open at the prospect.

“Grigor, I-”

“I want to feel your swollen lips on my mouth, your supple backside resting on my chest, your thighs tensing around me as you soak my tongue with your arousal.”

Your mind fails you so a light whimper escapes from your lips instead of anything coherent and you almost rip your undergarments from your body as Grigor swiftly undresses and assumes his position on your shared bed. His words made you dizzy with lust and you slowly crawl up the bed beside him as he licks his lips in anticipation; those inviting pink lips that you can’t resist kissing before you straddle his upper body in preparation. His hands guide your legs forwards until all he can see when he looks up are your glistening folds hovering above him, then he slides his arms around your thighs and pulls you down to his already open mouth. Your hands reach out for the top of the headboard as you let out an almighty moan at the feel of Grigor lapping lengths of your slit over and over again before slipping his tongue inside you and sucking along your folds until he reaches your sensitive nub; it was overwhelming.

“Grigor,” you whine, “oh my god, Grigor!”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you feel yourself tensing up as his mouth eats you like it was his last meal, and you look past your stomach to see him with his eyes closed, enjoying every second of it almost as much as you were. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your thighs when you try and lift yourself when the sensation becomes too much and he keeps you held tightly in place as your whimpers and pants become faster and more desperate.

“I can’t… I’m going to…” a screech follows your stuttered words as your muscles release before they begin to pulsate vigorously while Grigor continues to swirl his tongue around, and you soon realise that he has no intention of letting you go yet.

His teeth graze along your enlarged lips making you shiver above him, then he begins to lavish relentless attention on your stiff button that’s now white hot with pleasurable pain, and you’re very vocal with each movement his tongue makes; alternating circling motions with pressing against it with varying pressures. Your hands are gripping the headboard so tightly now that you’re sure they’re about tear a chunk of it off while you pant Grigor’s name as another climax builds quickly. Sweat is beading on your body by the time you orgasm again and Grigor hums happily as he delves his tongue inside your soaked walls and feels your juices coating it. When he finally releases his grip and you carefully move to sit next to him you get to see just how red and swollen his lips are, and the skin around his mouth is shining with a mix of his saliva and your arousal.

“Kiss me,” you whisper as he goes to wipe his face clean.

He smiles as he lowers his arm back down and you lean over him to press your lips to his so you can capture the sweet and salty taste that surrounds his mouth, and your tongue sweeps across his chin as your hand travels down from his neck to his stiff member that stands proud from his body.

“Grigor… can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

You lean on one elbow as you pull away from him, still stroking his length slowly and circling his tip with your thumb, “will you fuck my mouth while you spank me?”

His body twitches at your question and his eyes grow wide.

“Ye… Yes (Y/N),” he nods.

You smile and bite down gently on your lower lip as you turn your body towards where your other hand is, then lift a leg over his body once more before flicking your tongue over the small pool of secretions that had already gathered at his tip and slowly parting your lips as you take him in your mouth. The sound of him whimpering at your touch sends excitement flowing through your veins and he manages to lift his hands to your thick thighs here he runs them up and down the smooth skin before lifting one hand and bringing it down with a loud slap on your arse cheek. It jolts you forward and your eyes water as his member moves to the back of your throat, then he begins to lift his hips off of the bed as you find a comfortable position to stay in, and he fucks you hard and fast as your saliva drips down his length when he sets off your gag reflex.

“You’re taking me so well,” he pants, “I’m not going to last long.”

You move your lips back a little so that your teeth graze along his pulsing veins ever so slightly, then you reach forwards to his soft sack and massage it gently which earns a loud groan from behind you, and you feel another sharp smack that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation. The breathing through your nose just about manages to keep up with the sucking you’re doing and the faster he thrusts, the faster his palms rain down on your cheeks, and then he pushes three fingers inside of you as he continues to spank you with his other hand. You hum around his cock as you begin to move your body back and forth to the rhythm of his fingers, and the vibrations that run along his member only push him further to the edge until a couple of minutes later he stills inside your mouth, pushing you to the limit with how deep he is inside you, and releases his seed with a groan of your name.

“Stay where you are,” he exhales as you swallow what he gave you and lift your head from his length.

His fingers continue to pump inside you as his thumb now rubs around your overly sensitive nub, and the smacks that alternate between your cheeks leave pleasurable stings on your skin that are in such a contrast to the pleasure you’re feeling inside. You have to lean your head down on his thigh as the sensation becomes too much for you to handle, and you end up a panting mess when you climax for the third time; rolling off of his body very unceremoniously and landing in a sweaty heap. He chuckles as he looks at your exhausted frame, then kisses his way up from your thighs to your stomach pouch, then up to your breasts and finally to your lips.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers as he rubs your stomach lovingly, “you’re perfect.”

“And I’m all yours,” you grin.

could you write some kinky grigor smut? &

Can I request a plus size reader and grigor?

[valleyofearthsbeginning]

Rarest Dove VI: What Happens In The Cottage...

What happened in the cottage, you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. *Light smut (masturbation)

You ran into the palace, unsure if what was running down your face was the rain or your tears.

Men in the halls, breaking glasses or shouting arrows and shouting. Women giggling idiotically at the antics. You couldn’t stand it, it made your blood boil. Were you really angry at them?

No. You were angry with yourself, with Grigor. How dare he make you feel like that.

How dare he make you feel the greatest amount of pleasure you could only dream of.

How dare you want more of it, no regard for George.

You wanted nothing more than to run to your chambers and never come out. You pushed through the people in your way, knocking into them leaving briskly without apologies.

You weren’t  looking in any direction when you ran into Orlo, causing you, the small man and your book of poems to fall to the floor.

‘Lady Buttoni, I am so sorry’. The small man quickly gathered himself off the floor. He scrambled over trying to pick up the book but he just ended kicking it with his feet.

By the time he picked up the book you were already standing. He noticed this as he tried to meet your eye contact but his eyes just ended you near your belly.

‘Pardon me, Lady Buttoni. Sometimes I just get caught up in my own thoughts and I don’t see wh-’ He looked up and noticed the tears coming down your eyes.

Orlo noticed your eyes often.

‘Are you alright Lady Buttoni’?

No, but you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t say that the man you love just did one of the most sinful things to your body and you were craving it. You were craving him.

You couldn’t say a damned word about it.

‘Yes, Orlo I’m fine. I was just overwhelmed with the news’.

He looked confused. He was one of the Emperor’s advisors had he missed something?

The Empress is opening a school. Isn’t that noble and exciting.

You grabbed his hands feigning a whirlwind of excitement.

How he marveled at your smile. He knew nothing of the performance behind it.

You gave the count, a shy kiss on the cheek.

‘The book you're reading, it truly is beautiful isn’t it’?

‘Yes indeed! Thank you, Orlo’!

You began to speed back to your apartments. Why was being alone so difficult in this place?

‘Modern Russia is truly on the horizon’!

Orlo couldn’t believe the rumors around court. To him Buttoni, was someone truly good hearted and kind. He couldn’t understand why she chose to remain here.

He placed a hand on his cheek. It was barely a peck but to him, he could never wash his face again.

____________________________________________________________________

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you told the servants outside the doors that you were to never be disturbed under any circumstances.

They nodded but, with a sort of questionable fear. You didn’t believe in feudalism, you didn’t believe in keeping one's place. You treated everyone with kindness and respect so, the harshness in your voice was a bit shocking and a bit scary.

Once you passed the threshold, you shut the door. It was like the air had suddenly disappeared from the room.

You felt dizzy and hot. You hunched over your armour, you needed something to hold onto. Everything was becoming a blur. The moments replayed in your head.

Lips hungry and wanting. Moving with one another. How your legs were just ready to part ways for him.

Stop.

You tried to balance yourself up straight. It was too bright in here. Too many candles.

You blew some of them out feverishly, like they were lighting the pathway to hell.

Still it wasn’t enough to keep the thoughts of him away. You couldn't stand being in your wet clothes anymore.

You peeled off your dress, you hated the feeling of it being stuck on your skin. You unbound your hair and let it freely flow around you. Tresses of curls framing your face.

You managed to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The glow from the small amount of candles that were lit managed to cast a golden hue off your deep caramel skin.

What would have he done if you stayed? What would he do if he saw you like this?

Your breast,bare and swollen from just thinking of him.  You closed your eyes and began to think. His hands reach around you kneading them while he places gentle kisses down your neck.

While your hand acted as his, it was his voice that filled your ears.

Dovie...you are mine. Are you wet for me, Dovie? You were wet and warm. Can I feel you again? Will you let me?

You nodded as if he was really there. Your hand creeped down your body. Your core was wet and warm just as he told you or at least how you’d imagine he’d tell you.

Yes, dovie. So wet for me. Did you like what I did for you earlier? Tell me dovie, did you like my fingers inside of you?

Your bated breath let out a moaned yes.

Spread yourself for me like in the cottage Dovie. Let me love you Dovie.

You laid yourself on the floor. Spread your legs just as you had done in the cottage. When you looked in the mirror this time you didn’t see a damned woman, you saw a woman thinking of the man she loved.

There in a golden glow, you made love to yourself that night over and over again. You made love to yourself as if you were still in that cottage and it was Grigor’s hands on your body.

[floralfloyd]

 Masterlist

Started: 8th April 2020

Last Updated: 01/03/2022

Works: 25

Characters

Band of Sisters - The OFC's of Easy Company Masterlist

Band of Brothers

George Luz

Sentimental Journey (George Luz x OFC)

Chuck Grant

Get Well Soon (Chuck Grant x OFC)

Joe Liebgott 

A Seargent's Sorrow (Joe Liebgott x OFC Platonic)

Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron

Dick Winters

Floyd Talbert

Frostbite and Kisses (Floyd Talbert x OFC)

Bill Guarnere

Lewis Nixon

Cold Ice, Warm Hearts (Lewis Nixon x OFC)

The Pacific

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith

Robert Leckie

War is Over (Robert Leckie x Reader)

Lew ‘Chuckler’ Jurgens  

Eugene Sledge 

Andrew ‘Ack Ack’ Haldane

Nolan Hemmings

Jamie Finn (Heartbeat)

Young Love (Jamie Finn x OFC)

Jacob Pitts (Coming Soon)

Deputy Marshall Tim Gutterson (Justified)

Cooper Harris (Eurotrip)

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith (The Pacific)

Gwilym Lee

A Field of Flowers (Samuel Castell):

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue (Coming Soon)

Since I’ve Been Loving You (Gwilym Lee)

A Winter’s Tale (Gwilym Lee)

Queen

Confidence (Brian May x Reader)

Dreamers Ball Part 1 (Brian May x Reader)

Pink Floyd

Tears Like Raindrops (David Gilmour x Reader)

 If there’s someone not on the list above that you would like a one-shot, series, or even blurb about, feel free to ask my inbox and I’ll happily include them if I can. I’m always expanding my genres and characters so keep an eye out.

[fredweasleysgf]

i cant help but feel like both grigor and georgina deserve the world

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Series, Part Eleven (The Great Arranged Marriage AU)

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Grigor Dymov

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of sex, use of guns, and some violence, and a major character gets injured. Some fluff and Hurt/Comfort and DRAMA

Series Summary: When Emperor Peter's behavior towards your family threatens the alliance between them and Russia, the only way to solve it from breaking is through an arranged marriage with his friend, the handsome but heartbroken Count Grigor Dymov. A man you barely know.

Chapter Summary: Grigor and Y/N arrive at the Dymova Manor and Vineyards. But Marial is on her way, ready for a showdown...

COMMENTS. AND REBLOGS AS WELL AS ASKS AND MESSAGES ABOUT THE FIC ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED

Previous Chapters: One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//Ten

Buy Me a Ko-Fi!

A03 Link

As you awoke late the next morning. Both of you were smiling and giggling over all sorts of things as you ate your breakfast. A few fellow guests rolled their eyes over their cups and plates, but neither of you cared. Then, dressed in your peasant clothes, you hopped inside to cuddle, kiss, and talk for the rest of the journey.

The carriage kept wheeling by. Both of you were smiling. Your ribs hurt from laughing so hard with Grigor recalling memories and chatting.

“So, you both ate it?!” you cried.

“Yes! And you should have seen Peter’s face hours later! We were both curled up with our stomachs hurting on the floor! That’s what you get when you’re 15 and stupid!” he recalled.

“Well once, I was with my friend, we were about six, and we both snuck into my mother’s closet to try on her dresses until she caught us with them on!” you recalled.

 You reached the gates, and they opened. Both of you exhaled deeply as you saw that familiar home.

A young maid was sweeping at the front door. She looked up and the broom dropped from her hands onto the ground, she let out a loud gasp. She ran inside, forgetting the broom, and soon in a panicked hurry, lines of the servants and serfs outside. They got into their lines with big eyes and struggling to smooth their clothes. The housekeeper’s jaw was still dropped as she scurried to her own place at the center.

The carriage stopped before the front door. Grigor went out and then skipped his way to the front and helped you out.

“Here, my lady, take my arm,” he offered

“Grigor! How gentlemanly of you!” you replied.

“On occasion, I have been known to be a gentleman,” he boasted.

“Well, perhaps I should try and press my luck!” you retorted.

You accepted his arm with both hands curled around it demurely. You walked off the step onto the ground to face them.  He turned to greet them, his free hand tipping off his hat.

“Hello everyone!” he chirruped.

“Master Dymov!” greeted the housekeeper. There was an echo of “Mousier Dymov, welcome!” among the staff as they bowed their heads.

Grigor cleared his throat and looked down towards you. It was comforting that those many familiar faces were smiling at you, eyes beaming.

“Everyone! I trust you are well acquainted with my wife already!” he announced.

He led you by the hand forward and they all bowed their heads respectfully again, keeping their smiles.

“Of course, we are,” said the housekeeper.

“How is the dog? Where’s Sonya?” you asked.

“She’s quite used to being the sole mistress of the manor now! Spoiled little thing!” The housekeeper joked.

As if on cue, little Sonya ran forward from the house letting out excited whines and barks. You leaned forward and picked her up, cuddling her as she licked your face eagerly in greeting. You laughed from how the little pink tongue tickled your nose.

The staff began to look at the carriage. One serf looked at Grigor with a tilted head.

“Mouseier Dymov, there’s no luggage!? And why are you dressed in peasant garb?”

“There are clothes here! We had to run from the palace- I’ll explain it later before dinner,” he said.

You bent down and released Sonya to the ground where she skipped around, sniffing and wagging her little tail.

“Would you like us to bring you both a change of clothes?” the housekeeper suggested.

Grigor grinned devilishly and then went over to you, scooping you into your arms as you let out a little laugh and smiled ear to ear.

“My wife and I have some catching up to do. And I’d like to test the sturdiness of the antique bed in the master bedroom,” he explained with a wink at her.

With a squeal from you, he ran through the house, passing the servants, with you still in his arms. He went up the stairs quickly and into the master bedroom. He kicked the door behind him and plopped you onto your feet before he began to embrace and kiss you, then he buried his face into your neck to pepper little pecks across it.

“A woman beautiful as you shouldn’t have an inch of clothing on her, it’s a crime,” He said, reaching his arms to undo the buttons behind your dress.

“You say that like it should be a law!” you teased, removing his coat off his shoulders.

“Remember who my friend is. Don’t tempt me more, Y/N,” he countered.

Once it had been only you and contained scenes of both peace and misery, and now as you shred each other’s brown clothes off each other onto the floor.

The next morning, you sighed happily as you yawned and stretched to the morning sunlight. Grigor was propped on his stomach. You turned around just to watch his lovely face and form.

His brow crossed and he let out a groan, signaling awakening. Eyes still closed he began to reach his hand out to tap the other side of the bed only for it to land on you. His eyes shot awake to see you.

“Oh…that’s new…” he muttered.

“Good morning, husband,” you greeted, kissing his cheek.

Just like yesterday, you ate your meals practically huddled together. He would give you part of what he had and him part of what you had. Sonya was on your lap, trying to reach to get bites directly on your plate.

“I missed you so much!” you cooed at the dog, scratching her ear.

You spoiled her with a large portion of leftover ham. Proud of herself, she hopped off you and onto the floor, prancing as she went to a corner to work on eating it.

“My turn,” Grigor said.

He placed you on his lap and was kissing you, both of you just overjoyed to be in each other’s company when there was a knock on the door. You opened it to a young male servant.

“There’s a visitor- he says he is family of Madame Dymova,” he announced.

You shot off of his lap. Both Grigor and you looked at each other. His eyebrows lowered, and he reached a hand up to calm you, clutching yours.

“It’s a male visitor, you have no reason to panic, Y/N,” he assured.

“Be with me…just to be careful…” you asked.

He nodded. He then strided forward as you followed.

You walked downstairs only to see your brother. His hair was windswept, his coat and boots dirty, and there were circles under his eyes. On his face, there were two distinguishable bruises and his knuckles had cuts on them. He gave you a smile.

You let out a gasp and ran up to him. You let him into a large hug.

“You’re alive! You’re alive!” you cheered.

“I am, Y/N, and you’re going to be alright,” he comforted.

“Well- huzzah then,” Grigor said quietly.

The three of you went into the parlor and sat down on the couches. You and Grigor close together and your brother on the opposite side. A servant was rung to offer a plate of sandwiches, water, and strong coffee. Even Sonya was running up to bark at him in greeting, begging to be petted on.

“What happened?” Grigor asked nervously.

“I confronted her. We fought. She got me good. I got her good. But not enough to kill either of us. Guards ran in from the Empress. Said she was passing by and heard a scuffle.  She sent them in and tore us apart and she gave us a scolding- she detests violence.”

“So Marial is still alive…” you confirmed.

“Yes she is, but I burned the paper with the address- there’s no evidence where you are. She won’t be able to find you,” your brother said.

But not for forever you thought grimly.

He reached over and began to drink some coffee in a blue porcelain cup. Grigor himself took out a small flask, poured a bit of alcohol into his cup, and began to drink it.

“You may stay here; you will always find a sanctuary with us- you’re my fucking brother now, after all!” Grigor confirmed.

“Thank you- I can’t stay forever. I promised my wife I would return before it was time for her. I’ll stay by for a week, just so my sister can have some peace of mind. And…just in case Marial locates you both…” he said.

You looked outside. Birds were flying from tree to tree. Some snow had melted, as it was now getting to be late winter. The ground was either white or brown and the trees were mostly bare.

“Can we hunt in the forests around here?” you asked.

“Whenever we like, I have guns and grounds here for that,” Girgor said.

“And are there some targets? Or can we have some made?” you asked.

You turned your head to look at the men.

“Yes, that can be done,” Grigor assured.

You took your hands and folded them onto your lap.

“I need you both to teach me how to hunt. How to shoot a gun…” you said seriously.

Your brother choked on his coffee.

“What?”

“You heard me. Both of you. Teach me how to hunt. Teach me how to fire a gun. I’m not suggesting, I’m not hinting or even asking…I need to know how to shoot. How to kill.” You commanded.

Your brother scratched his head. Then he let out a sigh and nodded. Grigor set his coffee down and began to chew on a sandwich.

“Well…Sure thing! We can start this afternoon. We’ll go to the forest and practice with something small, easy- like a squirrel. I’ll show you myself how I load a rifle when I go to hunt, Y/N…will you join us?” he asked, turning to your brother.

He blinked and then nodded.

“Yes…. yes, I do…”

It was your second week back and so far, almost all your free hours were spent either hunting or shooting.

Just this morning, your brother said his goodbyes and began the journey home. He made sure to give you plenty of advice on how to aim. He was a bit hesitant, but you assured him that with this new, developing skill and your husband and servants constantly at your side, you would be safe. You would not be left alone with unwanted company.

One of the serfs, a skinny, short teenage girl named Olga, was helping you out. She flung discs made of clay into the air. You lifted the long, thin rifle and began to aim at them. You pulled the trigger.

FWOOM!

To your delight, you hit it. That was tricky. Only until yesterday were you finally hitting them. The disc shattered mid-air and the pieces rained onto the ground.

“I don’t think most ladies shoot guns or hunt, Madame Dymov,” Olga commented.

“Most ladies aren’t being threatened to be killed by their husband’s ex-lover,” you replied.

She shrugged.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of it that way…” she mused.

She ran over to the grounds to pick up the clay shards like a squirrel collecting nuts.

“I’m going over to the targets, should you need me- just be careful, I’m going to shoot at them,” you informed.

“Yes, Madame Dymov,” Olga replied sweetly.

There was a string of targets painted white with red circles getting smaller until the center. You made sure the servants kept Sonya strictly inside. If anyone was to reach out to you, even if it was your husband, they had to approach you from behind. With all this shooting you were intent on mastering, no innocent would be hurt. Only the guilty.

You lifted the gun and pointed at the first of the line of targets, squinting at the center. You fired. Then, reloading with a bunch of bullets from your pocket, you walked across to the next one, firing again. Keeping it up, despite the soreness of your arms, the muscles developing, you kept walking and firing at the targets. You only stopped once you had reached the end of the line.

Then you looked back, the smoke clearing, lowering your weapon.

A quarter of them had a bullet hole right where you aimed at the center. The timing was off, but you did it. You managed to do it- it was a small improvement. Well, that and the fact that you were able to shoot the clay discs. Any was better than none. It meant you would be ready.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You turned around to see your husband running towards you with a paper in his hand.

“What is it?” you asked.

He lifted up the paper. You saw it was an envelope with a pink wax seal.

“A letter from the Empress for you!” he announced.

“Oh shit! Let me see!” you insisted.

You reached for it, but he kept it high up. He smiled.

“Nope! You’ll have to jump for it!” he teased.

You kept jumping up, but with his tall height, he was able to keep the letter away from you easily. He even laughed a little.

“Nah-ah! Give me a kiss and I’ll give it to you!” he said.

Huffing, you reached forward, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him down to you, kissing him right on the lips.

His eyes were open in surprise from the boldness of it, his hand voluntarily lowered. You ended it and grabbed it.

“You’re a brute,” you teased, admiring the wax seal.

“And you’re my dear,” he replied.

As you opened it, you read these words. You felt his hands over your shoulders, reading it too.

“Dear Y/N Dymov,

I am so dearly sorry. Please forgive me. These past few months mail coming into the palace has often been tossed and intercepted. Keeping myself, my claim to the throne, and my child alive has been occupying every minute of my time. I never received your letters since many on Peter’s side would toss and burn them at every chance, so I never got word from you. Then one day, a soldier of Peter’s confessed he had one from you saved. I asked him for it and read it.

I am glad that your dear Grigor wasn’t harmed as well as you. And as I am a merciful empress, I will make sure in the future, he will receive pardons for his activities with Peter and be safe, per your wish. Just if he remains no threat to my reign and claim as ruler.

If you have any more concerns, please reach out to me. There won’t be any more soldiers burning letters for war. Just ask, and I will gladly help you.

Sincerely,

Your friend and ruler,

Catherine.”

Grigor blinked. His hand opened and you gave him the letter to read for himself. Then he lowered it, his blue eyes tearing up a little.

“You…you wrote to the Empress…asking her…to spare me?” he asked.

“I wrote to Peter and asked him to keep you safe too,” you sighed.

You reached a hand to cup his face and he leaned into it. You swallowed.

“All I did here was worry for your safety…. I thought any minute you would die, and it tortured me…” you recalled.

He reached his arms around and hugged you, then kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you, Y/N…” he spoke sincerely.

“It never got to her.” You pointed out.

He let out a snort.

“Still! Not the fucking point!” he retorted.

You released the embrace. Then you went inside and at once wrote a response:

“Dear Empress,

I was glad to receive your letter. Your word, befitting our divine ruler, was like that from the angels.

But I must humbly ask for your help again. You will not like it, but you must be informed.

Marial is threatening to kill me to have Grigor for herself. She is being forced to marry to keep her family’s fortune. She gave Grigor an ultimatum- either have her or she would kill me.

She has killed before- Lady Svenska. Even bragged about it to him. She has taken a life and is willing to do so again-specifically, mine. And she won’t rest until I am dead.

 We fled the palace safely and are staying in the Southern Dymova Manor.

I must ask for your protection from Marial, if possible. I know that our Empress of Russia is a kind, generous, beloved woman who will grant protection and assistance even for me, her humblest of subjects. At least, a little. Nevertheless, I need your help, Empress. Please help me. Please keep me safe. I am terrified for my life.

Please burn this letter after reading so she does not find it and locate me.

Your obedient servant and subject,

Y/N Dymov.”

You ordered a serf for it to be sent to the palace soon.

You paced around the house for the rest of the day. Conveniently, you found where the stairs leading to the roof were. Once you opened the door, you saw you could even walk around on the roof with a balcony overlooking the Dymov lands. It was not a bad spot for a picnic in the future, you noted.

For extra measure, that night at dinner, you did not use your sharpest meat knife. You brought it to your room in a drawer. That day forward, you always kept it strapped to your leg and bullets in your pocket. Then you asked for a rifle or pistol to be placed in every room of the manor. Just in case.

However, two weeks later, inevitably. It happened. Part of you hoped it never would.

And it began as a normal, if not peaceful day. You were sitting in the room with your beloved pianoforte trying a lovely minor sonata when you heard rapid footsteps across the hallway.

When you turned to the commotion, you saw Grigor at the doorway.

“Y/N! Y/N! Great fuck!  We have to flee! Right fucking now!” he begged, his arms wide.

“What, what do you, uh, mean?” you asked.

A pit fell into your stomach. You knew what he meant. But you wanted him to say it.

“She’s here! Her! Marial! She’s outside the doors and she’s armed! Everyone’s rushing to lock and close the doors and windows!”

Despite the wobbliness of your legs, you stood up. You forced your breaths to be long despite your racing heart.

“Grigor…I’m not going to run from her,” you announced.

“What?”

Picking up your skirt, you hurried over to the corner where a rifle was prepared.

“I’m fighting back. And don’t stop me.” You ordered softly.

Before you went to the hallway, you paused and then looked at him.

“Should anything happen, I love you, Grigor. I love you more than I can say. And should I die, tell my family I love them. And I died fighting.”

Before your husband could protest, you ran. Past the panicking servants. You didn’t hear Grigor after you in footsteps or in voice.

You couldn’t live like this. Always running. Always afraid. Cowering in corners with false hope she would show mercy. No, you had to face her.

Attempting to calm yourself despite the lump in your stomach and the shaking in your hands, clutching the pistol as if it was a stuffed toy, you walked up the little flight of the stairs to the roof.

Quietly, you crept over to barely peer out of the balcony on top to the ground below.

You could even smell the vanilla of her perfume up there.

There Marial was. The top of her auburn head was giveaway enough. She was knocking on the door with one hand and waving a pistol with the other.

“Let me in! Let me in! Shit!” she insisted.

 Madly she turned from the front door to the windows, eyes forward at them.

Good, you thought.

You squatted, one eye shut and the open one squinting to clear your vision, your aim.

“C’mon, Y/N, come out!  What a fucking coward that bitch is! That fucking cunt, Y/N! I’ll kill you here!” she threatened.

You pulled the trigger.

FWOOM!

The bullet hit her skirt and she jumped, falling to the ground and the pistol skittering across the dirt.

“FUCK!” she yelped.

She looked up before you could duck and hide yourself.

“Y/N…you BITCH!” she yelled.

“Two can play at that game, Marial” you replied.

You reached in your pocket and quickly loaded the next bullet.

Before she could reach for it, you pulled the trigger again.

FWOOM! Her hand jumped, releasing the pistol. It fell a distance away from her. You used the time to load in a few more bullets. She tried to scramble, and you kept firing, Marial only niftily dodging the shots. But from how frantically she was jumping away, she was frightened.

Good, you noted again.

Quickly, you put another bullet into the gun and aimed it at her again. Your time with training had paid off. You could see her clearly.

You aimed it right into her heart and fired. Marial lurched one way but then let out a scream in pain.

“FUCK! My arm!”

You heard footsteps from behind and that voice you loved so much.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you? Where is my wife? Y/N!? What- holy shit, Y/N!” Grigor cried.

He pulled you close to him, his arms over your body as if to protect your vital organs. But not to restrain you from firing. He peered over to see Marial on the ground below. She held her arm, leaning over in pain and groaning. Then she turned her gaze up, her face turning white.

Without saying a single word, you aimed it at Marial and fired again. This time, it landed onto her leg. She let out another cry.

You felt Grigor’s heavy hands on you, but he was blinking, amazed. Marial reached for the gun and then quickly you shot into her other hand. She screamed again.

Then she finally paused, her injuries causing her to be unable to move. The gun was further away than she could reach and even if she could reach it, you doubted her ability to shoot at you with bullet holes through her hands.

She gazed up at you and you sat down at her. Her jaw lowered and she was unable to speak.

Keeping your glare at her steady, you raised your rifle, aiming at her heart.

Suddenly, there was a loud neigh of horses as soldiers on horseback arrived, surrounding the front yard. The surprise took you out of your aim and your finger left the trigger, not wanting to harm one of them. Right behind them was a carriage that rode up quickly along. It was there before you could even process what was going on.

“Everyone! Stop! By order of the Empress!” a loud voice announced from one soldier.

The carriage screeched to a halt. To your shock, out of the carriage was not only Orlo but also Empress Catherine herself. She got out and let out a gasp at Marial

“What is this?  Are you hurt?”

“No, just having a nap on the ground! Of course, I’m fucking hurt!” she replied.

A soldier came by and swept Marial into his arms, but still holding onto her, restraining her. Orlo saw the pistol and ran up to it, he retrieved it and brought it to Catherine. Her pale face turned red, and she stepped forward, the bump of her pregnant belly aimed at Marial like that itself was a weapon.

“Have you threatened Y/N? What…what are you doing?” Catherine asked furiously.

You kept the gun up. Not sure what would happen. Not sure how badly she would be hurt. You couldn’t risk it.

Every head turned up to you. Orlo even adjusted his glasses and squinted at you high up.

“Holy shit!” he cried.

Marial leaned forward and began to yell, so hard, you could see the veins tightening at her neck/

“Grigor’s mine! He loves me!”

You heard your husband yell back from behind you.

“I fucking do not! I love Y/N! How many times do I have to tell you! And aren’t you already married by now?!? It’s done! For both of us! Go back to your husband!” Grigor protested.

He let go of his grip on you and ran forward to the balcony to face her from above.

“He’s a child! And you love me!”

“I don’t. I fucked you once years ago! Get. Over. It!” he spat back.

Marial let out a hiss, she tried to reach for the pistol but the soldier kept her away.

“I’ll kill you, Y/N!” she threatened.

You loaded another bullet and aimed the gun at her head, people ducked.

“Not if I kill you first.” You replied.

“EVERYONE STOP!” Catherine roared.

The soldier carried Marial to sit in the carriage. They began to dress her wounds with strips of cloth.

“Marial…I heard word from Y/N you were threatening her life. I hurried at once! I was going to ask you and her…but here…you already proved what was happening…” she said.

Orlo stepped forward. He handed the pistol to a soldier and then folded his hands in front of her. You could hear the seriousness in his voice all the way below.

“Marial, you are arrested by order of the Empress for the murder of Lady Svenska and for the threat of harm to Countess Dymov.”

“She shot at me! And got me!” Marial protested, attempting to wave a hand up at you.

Catherine looked up.

“Self Defense, Empress!” you protested.

Her lips were tight, but her eyes were soft.

“I see…but this will serve as a warning, Y/N.”

“Yes, Empress…” you agreed.

She then looked again at Marial.

“You are to be brought to the palace and once the physician sees to your wounds, you will be brought to trial. You won’t be able to breathe without a soldier watching you in the palace once you get there. Should you end up in prison, I’ll make sure it is decent.”

Marial’s jaw dropped and she blinked. The carriage door closed on her face. She was screaming protests and banging her fists on the window as it began driving away.

Finally, you let the gun drop from your arms. You felt dizzy. Turning around, you felt your own heart continue to race and felt your hands continue to shake uncontrollably.

“Oh God,” you voiced.

Your husband opened his arms and you accepted it.

“Grigor I…I did it…I can’t believe I did it…I…I almost killed someone-and I got her. I hurt her. I…I’m alive…I was…I was so scared…I thought I was going to die…” you voiced.

You half collapsed into his arms, and he met you there. You were crying a little and shaking and he still held onto you, embracing him like a koala and he embraced you in return. He rubbed your back.

“It’s alright, Y/N, you’re safe…you’re home, the empress is here, she’s gone, and you’re very safe and you’re with me…”

“I always feel safe with you, sweetheart…” you replied.

Both of you let out a huge sigh of relief. You were still embracing when there was an open door. Orlo had ran through, with the Empress right on his heels.

“Mouesier and Madame Dymov! What the fuck just happened?!” he cried.

“Come on downstairs, we’ll all have a drink and I’ll explain everything,” Grigor offered.

You reached over and grabbed his hand, and he squeezed it back. As all of you walked over to the parlor for drinks and to answer the numerous Imperial questions about the threat on your life, Grigor’s hand never left yours.

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[bohemianboynton]

The Deal, part 2 (Grigor Dymov x fem!reader)

A/N: So here is the part 2 to The Deal. Nobody asked for me to write this, but here you guys go. It took a long time for me to complete as I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life. I might write a part 3 to this because this series is my baby. Sorry if this sucks. Also, guess where I got the name Yelena from? lmao

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: You and Grigor are happy and settling into married life. But there is pressure being put upon your shoulders to take up a big responsibility.

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, children, and pregnancy, swearing (obviously), and smut (not one, but multiple sex scenes, folks!). 18+ only or I will block you.

----

You had grown to dearly love the man you had been forced to marry. And he loved you in the same way. The days were full of bliss and the nights were filled with love.

Today, you decided to have breakfast together. There were imported fruits and cheeses in a bowl between where you and Grigor were laying on the bed. You were still naked from last night’s activities.

You were both facing each other, taking turns feeding each other little pieces of food. The two of you were laughing like children, not a care in the world as you ate and talked. Pure happiness. Just like the mornings usually were.

Your birthday was coming up in a week, and the two of you were discussing plans for when the day came.

What you had so far was this: you wanted to kindly ask Emperor Peter if you and Grigor could visit his-and now also yours-estate as part of the small celebration you two had planned.

And maybe, if Peter allowed it, a chance to visit your family’s new home for today.

Today you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with your husband. But, Emperor Peter would inevitably interrupt you and Grigor’s morning together to take him hunting.

For now though, you were with your husband, feeding him a piece of cheese imported from France.

There was a knocking on the bed chamber doors, followed by the voice of your maid, Nadia. “The Emperor requests entrance into your chambers,” she announced.

“Come in,” Grigor said, a piece of fruit in between his finger and thumb. He popped it in your mouth as the doors opened.

“For fuck’s sake, Grigor, have you been getting so much pussy that you’ve forgotten to spend time with your dearest friend?” Peter had an almost serious look on his face, which disappeared when he laughed. “No, but seriously, Grigor, sex with your wife can wait. We’ve got some things to do today, old boy! I know, resisting the urge to stay in and fuck a woman all day is hard, but there are more things to life than just fucking!”

He did have a point.

“I’ve got to go, darling”, Grigor said to you, planting a kiss on your lips before getting out of bed to change into some clothes.

You supposed it was time that you did the same. You got up and grabbed your robe off of the floor.

While Grigor was buttoning up his shirt, you kindly asked Peter if you could borrow a carriage to visit Grigor’s estate tomorrow as part of your small birthday celebration. And another carriage for today, to visit your family’s new estate.

“That’s quite a lot to ask for, (Y/N). But you are the wife of my best friend and I am a generous Emperor, so, of course. On one condition, however. Show me your tits.” Emperor Peter ordered.

You held back an eye roll and a sigh as you opened your robe and flashed him your breasts. He laughed.

“Grigor, you must tell me, what does a man do with tits like those?”

After Grigor was completely dressed, he and Peter went off into the hall.

You then asked your maid to help you get ready for the day. She fixed your hair, helped you with your corset and gown, and applied your makeup. Then you dismissed her and that was that.

—

“It’s so lovely to see you, darling”, your mother said, waving the family maid away once she gave her the plate of cheese.

“How’s your marriage? Do you and your husband get along?”

“Yes, mother, we do”, you replied.

“How is he?”

“He’s a wonderful man. Always thinking of me.”

“That’s good, dear. Your father and I were worried that the two of you wouldn’t grow to love each other at first. But we trusted the Emperor and his choice of husband for you.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Speaking of your husband, where is he? Why couldn’t he come with you?”

“He had to tend to more important things with Emperor Peter.”

“I see. Well, when you see him, please tell him we said hello.”

Before you could leave, your sister entered the room. “Y/N!” She yelled.

“Darling, she’s about to le-“

“Tell me all about your husband! Where is he?” She asked, practically bouncing off of the walls.

“He’s out hunting with the Emperor-“

“Are any of his friends hot too?”

“Yelena! Watch your tongue!” Your mother ordered.

“Right, sorry.” Your sister said sarcastically.

She leaned in closer to you. “Is he… good in bed?” she whispered.

You pulled away. “Yelena!”

“Sorry”, she giggled.

“Well, it was lovely seeing you both. I wish I could have seen Father as well, but I understand he’s busy right now. Maybe next week I’ll bring Grigor and we can all talk over a nice dinner.” You said as you made your way to the double doors.

“Safe travels!” Your mother called out as you walked out the doors. You could hear her begin to scold your sister as you left. Thank God you didn’t have to suffer her wrath anymore.

The carriage ride home was a quiet and long one. Normally you’d have your dear husband with you, talking and laughing on the way to your destination, but you were alone with your thoughts this time.

-

It was time to be with your “friends”, the ladies of the court. You always had to plaster on a fake smile and partake in their petty gossip when you were around them. If you could, you’d spend all your time with Grigor. But that would be impossible. You both had your own duties. And spending time with your peers was one of yours, as much as you hated how fake they were.

“What a shame the Empress couldn’t join us,” one of the ladies said, pretending to look defeated. She laughed.

The whole room erupted in laughter.

“What a bitch! She sides with her maid instead of us! Her own fellow ladies! Outrageous!” Another one yelled in disgust.

You didn’t blame the Empress. You’d rather talk to the grass outside than these women.

“Don’t forget about what she did to Lady Svenska!”

“Horse fucker!”

As they spoke of the Empress, you couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t hear from her that often.

“May I ask you ladies something?” You questioned once the room had gone quiet.

“Of course, Madame Dymov.”

“Why don’t we hear about the Empress? And where did the horse fucking rumor come from?”

“She is only seen with her lover or her maid. She obviously doesn’t talk to us, so fuck if we know what she does. And as for her fucking a horse, we made that up. God, you should spend more time with us! We miss seeing your beautiful face!”

“Oh, I have something to ask you,” another one of the ladies asked.

“Yes?” You hoped it wasn’t another ‘are you with child yet’ question.

“Is it your birthday soon?”

You were relieved. “Why, yes it is.”

“How old are you going to be again? Twenty?”

“Yes.”

“You’re almost past the prime of your childbearing years!”

You felt fury and anxiety rise within you.

“Enough about the fucking childbearing!” You shouted, immediately covering your mouth.

The ladies were all taken aback at your sudden outburst. Some were even angry that you snapped at them.

You all sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, until you apologized.

“My apologies, ladies. It’s just that I get constantly asked about having children and being told that I need to bear some for Grigor.”

“That is actually understandable. It’s an unfortunate thing that happens to us all.” A lady sighed. The others turned their heads toward her, as if to tell her to shut up.

“But, trust us, it gets better once you birth a child!” A different lady chimed in.

You didn’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore. Thinking of an excuse, you looked out the window. It was late in the afternoon.

“Oh, would you look at the time of day? It’s time for me to retire to my apartments,” you said, turning your attention to the women.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, Lady Dymov!” One of the ladies called out as you got up and walked to the doors.

As you walked down the long hallways, you grew increasingly stressed out about the thought of becoming a mother. Could you even raise a child correctly, let alone even at all? And there was also pregnancy and labor. How much pain and misery you would be in during both. You felt like it was too much to have all this responsibility put on your shoulders.

You picked up your dress slightly and began to run.

You opened your apartment doors and hurriedly ran in, shutting the doors behind you and sitting on the chair next to the bathtub. You frantically tried to calm yourself down but you still couldn’t stop the feeling. And the tight corset and layers of your dress weren’t helping.

“Nadia!” You called your maid’s name as you fanned yourself with your hand. Everything was spinning.

“NADIA!” you called out again. Fuck, she wasn’t coming. You needed to find her yourself. You stood up, shaking. Everything was going by so fast in a blur. The ladies of the court. Grigor. Your mother. Babies.

The last thing you saw before you blacked out and fell to the ground was your maid coming into the room and letting out a scream.

You woke up in the bed with almost all of your clothing gone. The only thing you were wearing was a small sleeping gown.

Your eyes darted around the room.

Grigor was at your side, holding your hand with one of his and a damp cloth in the other. Nadia held a jug of cold water and stood at the foot of the bed.

“(Y/N), it’s okay,” Grigor said reassuringly. “You’re alright.”

The sight of his face helped you calm down.

“What happened?” You asked.

“I heard Nadia scream and I came here as fast as I could. She said that she saw you collapse. Chekhov will be here shortly.”

There was a knock at the apartment doors. Nadia set the jug down and ran to open them.

Chekhov, the court doctor, made his way through the bedroom doors and began to inspect you.

“Are you with child by any chance?” He asked.

“No”, you answered. You were 100% sure that you weren’t pregnant. Little bits of anxiety and anger crept back into your head.

He finished the check up. “Just a brief fit of hysteria”, he said.

“Thank you, Chekhov.” Grigor said as the doctor walked out of the room.

“What brought this on?” Grigor asked, his eyes looking into yours.

“I- I just-“ you stammered, trying to stay calm. You took a deep breath. “All this talk about childbearing has been uppermost in my thoughts.”

Grigor squeezed your hand and smiled a little, as if to try to get you to relax.

“I think you might need some rest. You don’t have to come to dinner tonight. Peter will understand.” Grigor calmly said, leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

He handed the rag to Nadia and left the room.

Maybe he was right. The court’s ladies didn’t know anything. All they did was gossip.

You looked up at the ceiling and the mural on it. The beautiful angels and cherubs in the clouds. The whitish blue sky. All so calming.

Your eyes moved to the window and the light which was streaming into it through the curtains.

It was beautiful outside. The ladies were surely rolling balls on the lawn now.

Fuck them.

---

It was a beautiful day outside. You sat by the clear stream of water that ran through the woods with your husband, gazing into his blue eyes and holding his hands in yours.

The estate was truly a lovely place. You were so glad to be here with Grigor. It was a shame you two had to return to the palace tomorrow. But, you could always visit the estate again - with Peter’s permission first, of course. Asking to visit the estate again would likely require more than just showing your breasts to the Emperor, and you didn’t really want to fuck him. Although, to be fair, he wasn’t ugly at all.

You and Grigor watched the sun set, and then you both headed inside your dacha.

Since you would be leaving tomorrow, Grigor suggested doing something the night before you left the estate in the morning. And you knew what he meant by that.

-

The two of you were in bed, about to go to sleep.

“Happy early birthday, my love,” Grigor said before leaning in to kiss you.

That kiss felt so good. Like really, really, good.

You inched closer to him and moved one of your hands to his chest, running your fingers lightly through his chest hair and slowly down his body. He shivered under your touch and moaned into your mouth, shifting under the covers.

His hand moved to your hip, pulling you closer.

You lifted one of your legs, swinging it over him. He moved onto his back and you positioned yourself on top of him. He was completely naked and you weren’t wearing anything under your gown, so you went ahead and lowered yourself down onto his hard cock. He groaned at the feeling of your walls around him, and you moaned at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

“Please, darling,” Grigor growled, “go on.”

You pulled yourself off of his cock and lowered yourself back down, the slick friction adding to the pleasure.

You bounced up and down, his hands steadying you by holding on to your hips.

You could tell by his face that he wasn’t going to last long. But neither were you, to be fair.

It was getting increasingly difficult to hold your orgasm back. Grigor moved one of his hands in between your legs, finding your clit. He rubbed at it in circles, with some slight pressure being applied to your sensitive nub. That was enough to send you over the edge, and you came, calling out his name in the process.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock caused him to lose control. He emptied himself deep into you with a loud yell.

You pulled yourself off of his softening cock and flopped on your back onto the bed.

After you both caught your breath, Grigor leaned over to you and kissed you deeply once more.

“I love you so much, (Y/N),” he said softly.

And with that, you both fell asleep.

--

The day came. Your 20th birthday. Grigor had woken you up with a shower of kisses and gifts - a wig, imported from Europe, and some of the finest jewelry in Russia.

Somehow, Grigor had convinced Peter to allow you both to take a trip to your parents’ home, as long as the two of you came back in time for dinner.

The ride to the estate was a rather long one, and you passed the time by talking to your husband about your life before your marriage. How you and your sister played with dolls as children, how your father told you stories about mythical beasts. And how your mother prepared you for marriage once you came of age. It was a sad reality, but hey, that’s how things were done in Russia.

Grigor squeezed your hand as the carriage pulled up closer to their estate. You could see your parents and your sister standing with their maid in front of the entrance to their home.

“Ah, (Y/N)! How pleasant to see you again, dear! Happiest of birthdays, my lovely daughter!” Your mother cheerfully called out as you stepped out of the carriage, Grigor taking your hand as you put your feet down onto the ground.

All of you sat down at the table with glasses of wine and small plates of cheeses and fruit.

“So- how are things back at court?” Your mother asked as the maid went back to the kitchen.

“Everything is wonderful. (Y/N) and I are as happy as ever,” Grigor said with a smile, his hand in yours.

“Good to hear,” your mother responded.

“Grigor,” your sister asked, “do you have any friends?”

“Of course, Lady Lebedev”, Grigor replied. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason”, your sister giggled.

“She’s going to get married soon”, your father said to your husband. “She’s trying to persuade us to let her marry a man of her choosing. Like this new idea that is floating around in Europe.” He sighed.

You didn’t blame her. You got lucky with marrying Grigor though.

“Oh! Grigor, when do you suppose that there will be any little ones of yours arriving into this world?” Your mother asked gleefully.

Grigor almost choked on his wine.

“Mother!” You yelled across the table, putting your head in your hands. Not this shit again.

Your sister chuckled.

“It’s a bit early to think about these things, isn’t it? I mean, (Y/N) and I have just gotten married-“

“Her father and I got straight to work on bringing her and her sister into this world as soon as we were wed! No excuses!” Your mother laughed loudly.

Your father cleared his throat. “Grigor, how are things at court?” He asked.

“Things are the same, as always. The Emperor is still well loved, we go hunting often, and the dinners are amazing as they always have been.”

“How are things with the ladies, (Y/N)?” Your sister asked.

“Oh, um...” You had to come up with a lie, quick. “Things are great.”

“Bullshit”, your sister said with a giggle.

Your mother slapped your sister on the wrist, causing her to yell out. “Yelena! Language! That is not the way a lady should speak!”

A few hours and many words later, you and Grigor had to leave. It was the middle of the day now.

Bidding farewell to your parents, you climbed into the carriage with Grigor following suit.

“Why is your mother so keen on us having a child so soon?” Grigor asked.

“I don’t know. It’s a mother thing, I suppose.” You replied, looking up at him.

“You know, if you wanted children, I wouldn’t mind raising them with you,” he said.

You forgot to breathe for a few seconds.

“Really?”

“Of course, dearest. I love you. To see you with my child would bring me great joy.”

“But you said that it was too early to talk about raising children in front of my mother.”

“Yes, but I didn’t say that I didn’t want to have any children.” He looked at you with loving eyes, your hand in his.

“What if-” you paused, carefully thinking about what you were going to say. “What if I don’t want children, at least not right now?”

“Then that would be fine with me.”

You leaned back against him with a smile on your face.

—

Tonight’s dinner, as you found out, was to celebrate a win over a battle with the Swedes. Your husband was sitting next to you at the hall table. You looked over at him. He was eating some roast duck. His hair was neatly tucked under his powdered wig, away from his face. On the other side of him were the Emperor and the Empress, and the Emperor’s other family members. Looking around the court, you saw all the ladies and their husbands, and all of the guards and the soldiers that had returned from conflict, all sitting down at the long dining hall table. You began to look back down at your plate to finish eating. But before you could grab a bite with your fork, Emperor Peter stood up to make a toast, the chair making a loud squeak.

“To our troops! For winning a battle against those Swedish bastards. About fucking time.”

The Emperor raised his glass, took a sip, and threw it to the ground. “Huzzah!”

Everyone threw their glasses to the ground, including you and your husband.

Something about Grigor was driving you mad tonight. You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but you knew that you wanted him badly. In an attempt to stave off your sexual thoughts, you stared down at the floor, focusing intently on the broken glass.

Someone tapped your shoulder. “(Y/N)?” You snapped out of it. Grigor was talking to you. “I think it’s time we go back to our apartment,” he whispered.

“Right”, you agreed.

You took his hand and you both left the table.

--

His rather sizable biceps. His toned but soft body. The large patch of hair on his chest. His thick, muscular thighs. And his hard, lengthy cock. You would never get bored of the sight.

Grigor made his way to the bed and sat beside you on his knees, hunched over your body.

“Grigor..” you moaned as he trailed his hands all over your body, only to stop at your knees.

He leaned in further and began kissing your neck, down to your breasts, and down your stomach to your thighs.

“Please, Grigor…” you begged him to go on.

He gladly climbed on top of you, and planted his lips on yours, kissing you with pure passion.

He pulled his face away to whisper in your ear.

“I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too. Fuck me, Grigor”, you moaned with a needy sounding tone.

He pulled his head back, still on top of you. You knew what to do.

With eagerness, you spread your legs and he steadied himself and lined up at your practically dripping cunt.

He pushed into you with a groan. A whimper fell from your lips. God, you’d never get tired of this.

“Always so fucking wet”, he grunted. “And you squeeze me just right every time.”

“Grigor… please..” you moaned, barely able to get words out of your mouth.

He pulled himself almost completely out in an almost painfully slow motion, and then slammed back inside of you with such speed that you gasped in surprise.

He dragged his cock out again, but faster. And then he went back in as fast as he could. He picked up the pace and began thrusting into you as quickly as possible.

One of his hands went to your throbbing clit.

You couldn’t help but moan quite loudly at both sensations. Hopefully you wouldn’t wake up anyone else in the palace with the lovemaking happening between you and Grigor.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, and your walls squeezed around Grigor as you came with a scream.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to- oh!“ Grigor groaned before you felt his load spill into you, warm and runny.

Both of you were struggling to catch your breaths. Once Grigor stopped panting, he pulled out and lay down beside you, his face and chest flushed with red. Your skin felt hot, too.

“Good god”, you managed to get the words out, “that was amazing.”

“You’re all red, darling”, Grigor said with a slight chuckle.

“So are you”, you replied with an attempt at a giggle.

He leaned in close to you once more and kissed your lips softly, cupping either side of your face in his large hands.

He moved back again, this time to pull the sheets over both of your bodies. He shifted closer to you, laying on his side, and you moved closer to him, tracing your fingers over his chest hair. And it was like that for nearly an hour, until the both of you were getting more and more tired as a result of tonight’s activities. You shifted closer to him until your head was resting on his chest, and he wrapped an arm around your head, putting his hand in your hair. The sound of his beating heart lulled you to sleep.

-

The next morning, you and Grigor decided to have breakfast together. A brief breakfast, since Peter would request his presence any time now. And when Peter did request that his friend be out with him today, you stayed in the apartment. You didn’t really have any friends anymore. All of your childhood friends either grew up to be married to men who lived far away, or they died while sick with the pox. If only there were medicine in Russia like there was in Europe.

You decided to take a bath. Nadia ran the water, and gathered the soap for you. You thanked her and she left you in peace.

Lowering yourself down into the warm water, you reflected on your week. Your birthday, spending time with your family, everything was great. Well, aside from seeing those ladies of the court. You sighed and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to relax and soak into the water.

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. You groaned. “Come in”, you said.

“Madame Dymov?” She asked.

“Yes?”

“There is a gathering in the ballroom. Your husband is there. He’s asked of me to summon you.”

After Nadia helped you dry off and put your dress on, you made your way there. The first person you saw was your husband.

“Ah(Y/N)! Darling!” Grigor called out, arms outstretched. “Have some vodka.” He handed you the glass that was in one of his hands.

You took the glass and sipped the vodka.

Count Orlo tapped on Grigor’s shoulder and pulled him aside to talk. About what you did not know, but your thoughts were interrupted when Empress Catherine walked over to you.

You had never actually talked to her before. Not even at both yours and her weddings- you were an unimportant young woman at the time of her and Peter’s wedding, and at yours, she was with the Emperor the entire time, if not talking with her maid and Orlo.

“Madame Dymov!” She said, a smile on her face. “How are things? Isn’t this gathering just lovely?”

“Why yes it is, Empress,” you replied.

“So, I hear that you enjoy the finest foods imported from Europe.”

“Yes, I am fond of French bread and Italian cheese.” You smiled. You had no idea why she was talking about food, but it was better than her being a bitch to you, which was what the ladies of the court kept saying about her.

“Picture, if you will, a Russia in which you could easily have more access to such delicacies. As well as other luxurious goods from Europe.”

That sounded wonderful, but where was she going with this? And why was she talking to you about this?

“That would be a Russia I would enjoy living in,” you responded.

“And, perhaps, an end to the war with Sweden in addition to better medicine. It is rather bleak to hear endless stories about soldiers dying and learning of your friends having been claimed by the pox, is it not?”

“Yes, it is quite sad. Empress, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Madame Dymov."

“May I ask why you’re telling me about these things? I don’t mean to come off as rude, but I haven’t a clue as to how this is relevant to my position in court.”

“Just trying to make conversation. I have heard that you do not roll balls on the lawn with the other ladies. And your husband is the best friend of mine. I thought that maybe we could become acquainted with one another.”

True, you did not particularly enjoy rolling balls with the other women of the court. You secretly couldn’t stand them, but you couldn’t tell anyone that and you had to come up with an excuse to not join them on the lawn every time they asked you.

“Ah, I see. Well, I enjoy talking to you. May I tell you a secret, Empress?” You hoped that she would never say what you were going to tell her next to a single soul.

“Of course.”

You leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I do not like the ladies of the court. They all seem so superficial. And I don’t think they like you.”

Catherine smiled a little and whispered back, “I do not like them either.”

Finally, you weren’t alone. Maybe you and the Empress could become good friends after all.

Just then, your husband made his way over to you once more.

“Greetings, Grigor,” the Empress said.

“Empress.” he smiled.

Count Orlo came back to Grigor’s side.

“My God, Orlo, can you just fuck off? I’ve talked to you enough for today.”

What did he say to Grigor?

“Grigor, I came over here to speak to the Empress.”

“In that case, (Y/N) and I shall leave you two to talk while we retreat to our quarters.” He took your arm in his.

“Have a pleasant day, Empress!” You called out to your new friend as you and your husband left the ballroom.

“And a pleasant day to you too, (Y/N)!” She replied back.

You turned your head to Grigor. “Is it alright if I ask what happened between you and Orlo?” you asked him.

“He was trying to convince me to tell the Emperor something. Something about changing one of the laws.”

Count Orlo seemed like a smart man, and although everyone around you saw him as a weak virgin, you had some respect for him. You weren’t sure why - he just gave off the impression that he was a decent person. Yes, he was different from the other members of court, but surely he must be nice if Catherine is around him, right? But why was he trying to get Emperor Peter to change a law? And why was he trying to use your husband to change Peter’s mind? Didn’t he have a place in court as one of Peter’s advisors? Oh well. Probably wasn’t that important anyway. Grigor didn’t seem to be bothered by this, so why should you be?

Tonight, you felt ill and sore, even though there was no sexual activity that happened between you and your husband. Perhaps it was time for your blood to arrive. You couldn’t sleep either, despite being held in Grigor’s warm embrace. Your mind was once again busy with thoughts about what your mother and others were telling you- that it was time to have a child. After talking about the subject with Grigor in the carriage ride home from your family’s estate, you felt better. But still, the anxiety about pregnancy and childbirth was still in your mind. Would you ever be ready for such things?

You felt something move by your side. Grigor had stirred in his sleep.

Your mind drifted over to thoughts about him. How handsome he was. How much of a loving husband he was. And of your first night together, after consummating your marriage. He had slept so soundly after a good fuck, and you did too. Your fears of marriage and sex had faded away after that.

You suddenly realized something.

Maybe one day, the fears of pregnancy and childbirth would fade away too. You remembered what he had said to you on the carriage ride home. That you two didn’t need to have a child straight away.

You sighed quietly. Maybe not today, but some day, you’d have a baby. And by that time, you would probably be ready to become a mother. And with that, you felt yourself calm down, your eyes getting heavy.

—

Part 1 here: x

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hi Guys! I am working on the finale chapter of Promised! So stay tuned!!!

[likesomekindofcheese]

Alright guys, here’s the playlist I made for Promised! Feel free to suggest any songs! 🥰

[likesomekindofcheese]

Y’all, I want to make a playlist for Promised…what songs should I put on it? I’ll definitely share it 👀👀

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Part Ten

Word Count: 5K

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! Reader

Summary: You are married to Count Grigor Dymov of Russia to keep an alliance between the Russian crown and your family safe. But you realize you have grown to love him and he has fallen for you. You are forced apart during the Coup and once you return to the palace, you are tricked to believe Grigor betrayed you for Marial. You are heartbroken. Only for Georgiana to reveal the truth- Grigor has resisted Marial's seductions for you. However, she is desperate to have him, at any cost...

Here it is! Continuing after that cliffhanger! COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED! IF YOU ENJOY IT, PLEASE REBLOG OR COMMENT.

Warnings for the chapter: swearing, mentions of violence, discussions of sex, and cheating. Some spicy stuff but nothing too explicit except for one sentence. IDeas I stole from other mediums lovingly or hatefully.

Part One //Part Two //Part Three// Part Four// Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight//Part Nine

Taglist: @itsametaphorgwil​ @bluesfortheredj​ @grigorlee​ @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joeslee   @grigorlee @itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @jamesbuckybarns​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @rhapsodyrecs​ @ladystrallan​​ ​ @0x0spunky-monkey0x0

General Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @queenlover05​ @seraphicmercury

Nothing's gonna hurt you baby As long as you're with me you'll be just fine Nothing's gonna hurt you baby Nothing's gonna take you from my side- "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex

Peter was delighted and surprised by the sight of his best friend rushing into his chambers as he was greeting and petting the new truffle hunting dogs.

“Ah! Grigor! What a delight I-“

His friend looked pale, and his lower lip quivered. He fell on his knees, pleading before his sovereign.

“Peter, please forgive me, but very soon- I have to leave…”

Peter blinked, glancing over at Arkady, who tilted his head until petting the soft fur of the dogs.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

Grigor got up and grabbed his friend by the shoulders.

“I need to leave…Peter, please assure me…you will be absolutely fucking  safe! I couldn’t live with myself if you or Y/N were in danger and…for her safety, I must leave for a while. Please promise me all is well with you and you will be safe and happy even!”

“Well, shit-I will be! You’re not some fucking prisoner here- you’re free to leave with your wife, Grigor! And You won’t believe it, I’m eating Catherine’s pussy nightly!”

“Your talents are paying off, of course! Great! “Wonderful! Be safe and do nothing stupid!” he pleaded his friend.

“When do I? Peter replied.

They hugged each other before Grigor departed like a deer being hunted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had reread the letter again, making sure everything was correct. It couldn’t be true. It seemed too good to be true. That this all was a lie. That Grigor never betrayed you for another woman. That he wasn’t about to leave you for her. That such things never happened in the first place. Part of you laughed with slight embarrassment over your actions from the past few weeks. The other part of you couldn’t help but smile. You pressed the letter to your heart and sank to you knees in your dress.

An absent-minded Catherine entered. Her face warm and hazy from how heavy she slept and her beautiful blonde hair in disarray.

“Y/N… hope you didn’t mind! I didn’t sleep well last night, and I was tired…”

You shook your head, happy tears welling up.

“No…not at all, empress…I…I just got a very…very good letter.”

As Grigor ran, he saw her. The very last woman in the world, no, the last person in the world he wanted to see.

“Made up your mind?” Marial asked, arms akimbo.

He tried to run but she stepped to the side and blocked him.

“So, you have an obvious choice. Would you rather by a hen-pecked husband chained to Y/N and be a widower…. Or be happy and free?” she asked.

Grigor looked down on the ground, thinking it through. That is, For three seconds.

Then he looked up with a smile.

“Hen pecked husband. Any day.”

He quickly shoved her aside and kept running. Not stopping until he reached Catherine’s apartments.

“Oh!” Catherine gasped. “I see…what does the letter say…”

“The laws about adultery, empress, you need do nothing about them. You can forget them, even!” you said with a laugh.

“How come?” she asked, tilting her head. She reached down to help herself to more tea, bending over her big belly and coming up to delicately hold the saucer.

“I received good news; I have been a fool forever. I learned a truth, a happy, happy truth and I…I feel so relieved I can’t stand it.”

“I’m glad you are happy! What is it, Y/N?”

“I received a letter from Georgiana, and it said- “

Before you could finish you were cut off by a sudden rush of footsteps. Before you stood a very shocked and desperate looking Grigor. You stood right up.

“Empress, I hate to cut your meeting short, but I would like to speak to my wife back in my apartments immediately, please…” he said worriedly.

“Why, of course you can.” Catherine confirmed.

“Thank you.”

He ran up to you, his eyes were the size of planets, and you could see his hands were shaking.

“What, Grigor, what is going-“

“Excuse us, empress!”

Before you could say another word, he bent down and swung you over his back like a sack of potatoes. Seeing the floor and a bit dizzy, he began to run quickly down the hall.

“Wha…what is happening! Grigor, tell me what’s going on!” you demanded.

“No need! No time, Y/N!” he replied. You saw the shuffled feet of courtiers he pushed aside in his rush to go back.

Despite your constant kicks and questions and protests, he kept running. You keep trying to talk to him, but he ran fast. Some people gasped and giggled at the ridiculous sight.

Once he arrived before the Dymov apartment he yelled for the guards.

“Let us in- lock the door and be armed!”

Once he got you into the parlor of the Dymov place he brought you down. He kept looking around the room, pacing wiilldy. Then after looking in every room and opening the door of every wardrobe and cabinet, he turned to you.

“Y/N…I have something you need to know now…” he began desperately.

You put a hand in front of him to stop him.

 “So do I…” you brought out the letter. “George has told me…told me the truth…”

He blinked and then looked down at it, smiling. The air stilled except for the sounds of the birds outside. You thanked your lucky stars for George. Who would believe one of his ex-lovers would bring you closer together?

“I want to hear you say it…and now that I’m not that heartbroken thing I was at first, I want to hear it from your lips…so this whole time…You never fucked her?” you asked.

“Yes” he nodded.

You gasped in joy and clasped your hands in front of your mouth.

He looked down to read its contents again. He then folded it delicately and placed it in your hand. You pushed it to be inside your reticule.

“And every word of this is true?” you asked.

“Yes. I haven’t fucked Marial…I kept trying to tell you. Every day I kept trying to tell you the first day and every day since.  Do you believe me this time?” he questioned.

He blinked and you could see tears in the ducts of his eyes Despite his teary exhaustion, his eyes were gentle when he looked at you. He gently cupped your face. You reached out a hand to touch one of his.

“I believe you…” you confirmed.

“The day we were married, and I promised you…that I won’t ever, ever hurt you. I swore you that until I die, Y.N…I will never betray you for any woman in the world…” he recalled.

“I promised to do the same…, I’m so relieved! I don’t even have words!” you mumbled.

You both begin to laugh with relief and happy tears. The misery was only a nightmare and you had awoken to the pink, dewy dawn of a new day.

“But…we can discuss more of this later…” he cut off. He reached down and clasped both of your hands, leaning in closer and speaking softly.

“Y/N, we don’t have time to lose. We must leave. Immediately.  you are in danger right now!” he warned.

You blinked. Your chest suddenly getting tight.

“Danger? But the coup is over…” you questioned.

“You were just threatened by...”

Suddenly there was a LOUD bang that interrupted him.

“Oh fuck! She’s fast!” Grigor cursed. His eyes went wide, and he threw you behind him.

“Where the hell is he?” a familiar voice roared. “Is THIS the place of Monsieur Dymov?”

“Yes- but-“the guards voice were quickly cut off.

“That doesn’t sound like a she…” you commented.

The door was kicked open. Your bother burst through. His face lost its color, his hair was unkempt, he smelled bad, and his eyes were wide with circles beneath/ He had lost sleep in a rush to be here. The guards were behind him, struggling to restrain him and failing. In his hand was a pistol.

“Y/N, thank God I got your letter, you poor thing!” your brother wailed as he went up to you.

Memories of your first torturous reunion came to you both and of the threat you made returned.

“You actually sent it?” Grigor asked turning to look at you.

“…I did.” You confessed.

“Get AWAY from her…Scoundrel!”

Your brother ran to Grigor and shoved him from you, gun flailing as he began ranting before your frightened and amazed husband.

“You worthless bastard of a man! Can’t you keep your cock in your pants for a minute?? Do you see this letter?”

From his pocket he pulled out the very letter you wrote and mailed out to him. Right on the first disastrous day you returned to the palace after the coup and believed Marial’s manipulations.

“It’s stained with her tears! I am here and I am taking her home, away from you and your whore!”

Grigor dodged a literal bullet and you let out a screech. Your brother then turned to you.

“Y/N, we will make sure that there is a divorce…if I don’t make you a widow right away. And you will be home safe, and so help me, next time you will be married to a decent, FAITHFUL man! Do you understand the pain you brought her through? How you insulted and humiliated a good woman and a good wife for you? You’re a demon among men and don’t deserve to even look at her!” he vented.

Right as his arm went up to try and shoot again, you managed to smack his arm, tossing the pistol across the floor. Despite being disarmed, your brother then tackled Grigor outright, punching him and shaking his shirt, getting close to strangling your husband with his bare fist

“Stop!! Stop right now!” You screamed, pulling the men away with all your strength.

 You looked your brother in the eye, tugging him up by the collar.

“Please…I was misled. Grigor was never unfaithful to me!”

“What!” your brother gasped.

“The letter had false information! I misinterpreted what she said to me-I sent the letter before I knew the truth!” you explained.

You briefly explained what happened as Grigor pushed himself back up

“Is it…is it true?” your brother asked

“It fucking is!” Grigor replied in exasperation.

The three of you looked around, panting from the near-death experience of the week. Your brother slouched, his hands dropping and panting.

“Oh, thank God…thank God…Y/N, so you aren’t miserable with this man! He isn’t cheating and abandoning you?”

You shook your head with a small smile.

“This family reunion is very nice, but we must go- Y/N, you are in great danger- now!” Grigor pleaded desperately.

He gestured at the guards to shut and lock the doors and to wait outside.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

“Marial says she is going to kill you!” Grigor blurted loudly.

“What!?” you and your brother repeated.

“You mean…the lover in the letter?” the brother asked.

“Yes! She’s about to be forced to marry someone. She must marry to maintain her status and She’s desperate to have me…. I refused her and she left with an ultimatum. Either I could leave Y/N, you or she would murder you.  can’t stay here a minute longer. She will make me a widower so she can have me…and that is why we must leave…” he explained.

The clock in the parlor clicked contentedly. Feeling the blood rush through you, you looked to your brother who put a protective arm around you.

“Could Marial kill someone?” you asked.

You knew she was a bitch and she embraced it. Betrayal, adultery, neither were beneath her  but actual, cold blooded killing?

Your husband gripped your shoulders and he looked you right in the eye.

“Yes! She did! Marial killed Lady Svenska this morning and she is after you next!”  

“Lady Svenska? Dead! Oh…oh god…” you responded.

 You felt cold and your stomach turned to nausea. The room seemed to spin. It was hard to breathe. You grabbed onto Grigor’s  arm to keep from the anxiety overtaking you and your brother took your other one to keep you from collapsing.  Catching onto your feet, you stood back up and looked at the men.

“But we don’t have time to lose. As far as we know, she could be on her way!” Grigor urged.

 Their knees were bent and their faces wild as if ready to charge. You stepped forward, commanding with a quiet but resolved voice.

“Grigor, where are you pistols?”

“In the large cabinet in the parlor.”

“We will each get them, we will be armed, all three of us. I also have my two guards still here from the vineyard, we will leave with them. We will go there. She probably won’t now where it is.  We can travel under another name until we arrive there. We can take a different carriage so no one will think it’s us…”

There were footsteps down the hall. All three of you froaze until they passed by. You continued with a new idea.

 “We will ask our serfs. Ask them to grab any spare clothes we have.”

“Clothes?”

“We can wear peasant clothes to disguise ourselves…and take their pathways. No wigs or silks, just plain clothes. Make ourselves look like the serfs. She is soft for them. If we disguise ourselves in this attire, she will be less likely to recognize us or even want to harm us. And word won’t spread about the count and countess fleeing somewhere if we are not recognized.”

“But Y/N…She could see a carriage through a window…” Grigor argued.

The three of you looked towards the open windows, curtains drawn and daylight spilling through your red apartments. Damn, he was right. And there were many windows in the palace.

“Let’s have it drive the back path, and quickly and then reroute toward the vineyard. Get into the woods and then turn around. We take a different carriage than the Dymov one. A plainer one.”

You turned to your brother.

“But we need someone to stall for time…Do you know what she looks like? She was the empress’s maid at our wedding…” you asked him.

“I can’t recall.”

“Look for a small, pale woman with curly auburn hair or ask for her.”

You gestured down to the pistol in his hand.

 “I need you to find her. Confront her even, distract her, that will buy me and Grigor time to escape.” If she could strike any moment, we don’t have time to lose,” you instructed.

Running out to the parlor, you got two pistols from the cabinet and hurried back, giving one to your husband. Grigor turned to the desk, getting  a piece of paper and a quill. He  quickly wrote something out. He handed the paper to your brother.

“Here is the address of the vineyard. You can meet us there. Memorize it, then burn it. Make sure Marial never even knows you have it.” He ordered.

“Understood.”

You and Grigor looked at each other, then clutched hands. Your brother began to scrutinize the paper, then took off his boot and stuffed it into his sock before putting it back on.

“Then I will meet you there…you have to be willing to die for her…” your brother said.

“For Y/N, Without question”

They tapped each other on the shoulder, a small half smile with a sense of familial fondness minus the previous struggle minutes ago.

 You and your husband ducked your heads out the door to your rather confused looking guards. The hall was quiet. Hardly anyone was there.

“We are…we are going to the serfs’ quarters, follow us. And ask nothing until we are out of the palace.” You instructed.

The guards nodded obediently.

Your brother ran out on his mission. Once he was out, you and Grigor ran to the back door right where the serfs’ quarters lay. He would know where his own manservant slept. And ringing a bell for them would cause attention. Your guards followed you as you could tell from their grunting breaths and heavy footsteps. In your right hand was the pistol- you were unused to the weight of it. You were never raised to shoot a living thing. But you knew your choice. Be ready to kill or be killed.

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There was a sudden gust in Marial’s apartments as a serf ran before her.

“Miss, there’s someone here to…”

“Enough of the formalities.”

Your brother ran in immediately, lightly pushing the serf away to face her.

 Looking at the woman, she was exactly as described. She was decked on her couch lazily, a pastry in one hand and a dog on her lap. She took the dog to the ground and shooed it away. She looked him up and down and gave him a devilish smile. Though beautiful of face and body, the ugliness and cruelty of her actions overpowered her attempt at seduction.

“Sir what are you….”

“I am from the Y/L/N family. Familiar? It should be…my sister is the Countess Dymova.” Your brother cut off.

She clenched her jaw and her eyes hardened. He tensed his fist and spoke directly to her.

“What were your intentions with the count?” he asked quietly.

“Say again?” she asked, in half denial.

“You attempted to elope with Count Dymov and threated to kill my sister, is that so?” He questioned sternly. His voice was raising.

The dog retreated to the next room. She reached over the sicky cakes on her tea tray and downed a bite.

“Why the fuck should I answer any question addressed to me in that tone?” she replied with her mouth full.

His face lost all color. He charged forward, grabbing her by the collar of her dress and lifting her up, slamming her against the wall angrily.

“Did you seduce the count and make him abandon his wife?” he began to bellow.

“The Count Dymov?”

He shook her violently.

“DID YOU SEDUCE THE COUNT AND MAKE HIM ABANDON HIS WIFE?” he screamed.

She froze and replied with an odd calmness and directness

 “Seduce him? He wants it. That’s Nothing new. Grigor always wanted me. Grigor and I fucked….”

“Recently?”

She froze. She spat in his face.

“No, we haven’t recently, for your prying information. But we will. He loves me and I love him.”

“He is already married and in love with Y/N!” your brother argued. “I’ve seen him with her. I’ve read her letters. Including the last one she wrote about you!”

“Grigor fucking loves me He just needs to remember who he is and that it’s me he wants. I’d be better for him.”

“Then why isn’t he fucking married to you?” your brother roared.

She took the cake tray and threw it at him. He ducked as the rich pastries and icing spilled onto the floor.

“He’s mine! He always was! And he tires of Y/N, he just has to admit it.”

“You didn’t try to make him you after they were engaged or before their wedding!” Your brother argued.

She regained her composure, straightening her posture to look right at him with a devilish smile again.

“He was forced to marry her. And she’s a frugal little cunt for him, might as well put her out of her misery.”

“You BITCH!” your brother screamed.

He gave her a solid punch in the jaw. Once she was down, he grabbed a vase, ready to smash her face in, towering over her.

“Give me answers, honest answers or you will die right here…has Grigor made any promises to run off with you?” he asked.

“I…I made him promises and offers…and he never gave an answer I even asked him in person. And he said no, but I know his eyes say yes.. He has been refusing me with his words. He wouldn’t have refused me like that in the past.  He is blinded by her. But he wants me, I can tell. His cock always gets hard around me in a silk dress.”

“You have not fucked him recently.”

“No, I haven’t! God, why won’t he already! She’s making him like her and It’s been fucking maddening!” she replied angrily.

He set down the vase. Your brother began to pace a little, then glared back at her.

“Don’t you Understand that because of your actions, my sister has suffered. Immensely,” he continued.

“I don’t give a fuck what your sister thinks. Or what anyone thinks!” she replied.

She stood up, soothing her gown. Your brother began to lecture her angrily.

“Have you thought that there are people other than you who deserve to be happy. That you can’t always get what pleases you all the time, especially at the price of someone else’s peace?  You  are ruining two lives just to amuse yourself. Amuse yourself with free men. Then you are within your right. But to seduce a happily married man from a wife who loves him. A man you KNOW is married. To encourage him to betray his wife. To deceive, to take their love and joy away…don’t you understand that’s as cruel as beating a serf or a dog!?”

“Well, I don’t fucking know about that! And I don’t want to!” she answered, disturbed. “Don’t you know everyone sleeps with everyone here! It’s the way it fucking is and always will be in this court! But you abuse me…how dare you treat a lady this way…I will have you avenged….” She stepped forward to him, glaring.

Looking down, your brother saw a knife under her couch and the outline of a pistol in the pocket of her dress.

“If you lay a hand on my sister, I swear I will kill you.” Your brother threatened, getting closer.

“They will arrest a stranger.  And execute him for killing a noble lady.” She retorted.

He reached into the hilt beneath his long coat.

“You’re a not a lady, you’re a monster.”

She whipped out her gun but so did he.

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The serfs’ clothes were surprisingly warm and comfortable. The pistol was kept securely in a trunk inside the carriage so no accidents could trigger it to go off and harm anyone. The carriage drove fast and rickety. The shawls and gloves over your hands were welcome against the chill as the snow began to settle down. You had only a cotton cap over your head and a plain brown dress with an apron. Grigor wore no wig dusting with powder. Instead, he had stained white shirt with a plain brown cravat and a long coat. On his brown head was an old black hat instead of the fine tricornered hats so in fashion for the noblemen of Russia. Both of you wore old, tattered boots shivering from the cold air.

 It all seemed so peaceful outside in the forest with leftover snow sitting on the ground and on the branches of trees despite the terror of your situation. Both you and Grigor were silent for most of the beginning of the carriage ride. Your hearts were racing, and you wanted to know the plan would work. So far, nothing had happened. But that didn’t mean something wouldn’t strike any minute.

Lowering your head- you felt dizzy again. It became hard to breathe from how tight you felt in your chest.  You let yourself begin to cry a little from fear.

You felt his large hand on your back. He leaned you to sit up again and began to comfortingly rub your arms.

“Are you…are you afraid, Y/N?” your husband questioned.

“Yes, I…I’m very afraid….what will happen to me? I…I don’t want to die…” you confessed.

You had to gather your strength to fight and flee your way out of the palace with a good plan. But you could no longer deny the terror of such a threat. Now you could let it out safely.

“It’s alright, sweetheart… you had a brilliant plan that’s going to help and I’m here…I’m here beside you…You’re safe now…” he said sweetly.

“May I rest my head on you?” you asked.

“Yes.”

He pulled you closer, letting you rest your head on his scratchy, brown wool cloak. He wrapped both arms around you. Like how your mother would hold you when something scared you.

It eventually got too dark to carry on. Once an inn with rooms available was in sight, both of you walked in. The guards and carriage driver excused themselves to their own separate rooms.  Grigor spoke with the innkeeper- an old man with a mustache and a dirty white apron.

“I am Monsuier Molotov. The lady is Mademoiselle Sobakin.  We need Two rooms…”

“One room…” you stepped in to correct.

Grigor’s  brow furrowed and his jaw dropped as he stared at you in surprise. The innkeeper tried to keep from a lascivious smile.

“Are you certain?” your husband questioned.

“Yes, One room…please…”

Once you were led to the room, Grigor began a fire. Both of you slumped, warming your hands and even taking off your semi-tattered shoes from the warmth.

“I wanted…I wanted to respect your wishes for the past time. I knew you didn’t want me to sleep by you.” He explained.

“I…I would feel much safer with you by me…especially for tonight” you said.

“Then I will stay with you.”

Both of you went down to fetch the meal provided and returned to your rooms to eat. Better to be seen out and about as little as possible. It was just bread, some meat, and soup. It was humble fare compared to the feasts back with Peter and Catherine. You both quietly sipped the ale served in a tin cup rather than vodka in gold trimmed glasses. You didn’t speak much. You were relieved for the bit of safety and  Exhausted form the journey. And it was starting to get late in the night.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and stacked the plates. You took a last sip of the ale.

“Y/N…I know it was brief but…I love you. I actually do love you” he confessed.

The fire crinkled in response. You gave him a tired smile.

“It makes me so humble to be your husband.  I…I just want to be enough for you. Your tears were my greatest torment. Now…I swear to you, I will…”he began.

But his eyes teared up again.

“If I were not me, but the fucking  best, purest of men I would ask you to love me and to have your hand this instant.” He confessed.

You reached out both your hands and took his. You were in awe of such a confession.

“Well, we’re already married.” You reminded him.

“Still, I would. Thank God for Peter. Who knew he was a matchmaker?”

You began to play with his thumbs and he yours. You touched his face sweetly again.

“I hope you forgive my anger…I was only so angry and shrewish because of how much I love you…and…in the past I…”

You sighed, your breath hastened as you clutched his hand, looking into the fire to recall the painful memory.

“About a year or so before I met you, I had a suitor. I met him at a church. I thought he was the handsomest man I had ever met. He was good with children, intelligent, easy to talk to, and even devout, if you can believe. He wrote me the most beautiful letters and gave me flowers. He spent hours together and he even swore he loved me. It was like a dream. My family and I were certain he would propose any day…”

Turning to Grigor, your hands started to shake, and your throat tightened, threatening tears from the recollection.

“Then one day, I fell very sick. I was bedridden. They all feared it would spread so I Was kept to my rooms, and he could not visit me. After a few days, the fever broke, and I felt well enough to walk. I walked outside in the forest near our property and…”

Your heart raced and your stomach soured, your hands shook, and Grigor squeezed them.

“I found him, the man who said he loved me, fingering another girl against a tree as she pleasured his cock with her hands too…”

“Holy shit” Grigor swore.

“I froze where I was. I could hardly think or speak. My stomach hurt more than ever. I remember running home and vomiting onto the floor, crying more furiously than ever. Our servants and my family rushed to clean it up and help me. I demanded to see him the next day. It was the handsomest I had ever seen him, and he begged me to take him back. Despite the yearning I had for him, my heartbreak overpowered anything else. He claimed that it was a quick slip-a slight mistake- as if he had just spilled over a glass of water and not went and fucked another woman. He said that he was lonely, his body wanted mine, and could not have it. He thought I would be dead within days.  He begged me to take him back. I yelled at him with tears and insisted he leave. So did my family. He protested that he loved and adored me and that she was just a quick fix but she was nothing and that he wanted to marry me. My brother threatened to decapitate him if he set foot on our house again. I never returned to the church where we met and mourned him forever. Since then, until you arrived, I was hesitant to accept any other suitor after….”

You let out a deep breath.

“Y/N…what a fucking nightmare.”

He hugged you and you clutched onto him.

“I was so afraid you would be just like him. That you would promise your love and then hurt me. That I lost you, forever. That it was happening all over again.” You explained.

“But…that’s the past now, Y/N, I’m right here and you’re safe. It’s over. I swear to you, I won’t be anything like that dick. You’ll always be safe and loved with me.”

You let yourself relax into his arms and looked up at him.

“After everything we have been through and…I adore every bit of you. Even the parts that keeps getting drunk on vodka…” you teased.

You both laughed lightly.

“The fucking Ale was like water compared to the court’s vodka! But…Y/N…you have survived so much and came out stronger. A horrendous suitor, the betrothal, the coup, and this…and here you are, so much stronger and alive. I’m proud of you-holy shit, I really am! I’m actually…happy…Thank God…you’re alive…you’re alive and you love me…”

“I love you and I’m alive…”

“Please…Y/N, free me from my torment…tell me you forgive me.” He asked.

“Grigor, there’s nothing to forgive. Georgiana told me everything that happened. That nothing happened other than kissing that…you…in a world like court you…you resisted her…for me…he wouldn’t have done that…”

You began to cry, and he wiped away your tears with his thumbs.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else. I would do anything for your happiness.”

“And…and I for yours…”

“Y/N, I ask you, free me from another torment if I’m so selfish…let me kiss you.”

You reached up and kissed him. He tasted of your dinner and his lips felt soft.

“God, I missed this…” you confessed.

“You have no idea…”

He grabbed your face and kissed you more intensely. You found you both were laying on the floor, he was grabbing your skirt bunching it up. You ran your hands to around his back in an embrace. Four months away from each other and He kissed and touched you like the starved man he was.You stopped his hand right before he could bunch your brown cotton skirt up access what you knew he wanted. Not that your body didn’t pine for him. Quite opposite in face.

“Please not on the hard floor…” you said with a giggle.

“The…the bed then?””

“The bed” you confirmed.

The wind howled as your last petticoat and shift was thrown off.  It began to snow when you came together. There would be noise later. Loud, filthy cries and moans as well as chidish laughter fileld the room. Not that either of you cared for disturbing peace.

 Afterward, you both ordered another glass of ale. It tasted a little stronger. Grigor pulled the blankets over each other, recalling little conversations, and in-jokes, and you laughed softly like an adolescent or a drunkard from the stories he could tell. You both fell asleep entwined and facing each other, an undeniable smile on both faces with the warmth from your bodies and the blankets.