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likesomekindofcheese · 2 years ago

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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.

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