#grigor dymoc x reader

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hey, you said to flood you with requests and stuff, so here I go. Reader is Grigor's wife (he deserves so much better than what he got on the show) and just gave birth to their first child, a daughter. Everyone pities Grigor because he doesn't have an heir to carry on the Dymov name, but he adores his little princess and spends every free moment with reader and their little girl. Thanks in advance!

Sophie!!! This is so cute!!! I’m uwuing and yearning and crying at the same time!! Get ready, this might be a huge-ass blurb!!!!

 tw: swearing and mentions of sex and childbirth and children

Letting out a breath, you finally heard your baby cry. Sweat dripped over your face, your hair was a mess, and worst of all, there was half of the court watching to see it from over your legs. You began heaving in big gulps of air, relieved it was finally over. You had sweated over your shift and felt that you might as well be naked in front of the whole court.

They fanned themselves, sipping champagne as you heard the doctor cut the umbilical cord. A physician changed bedsheets beneath you.

“Ooof, all that blood,” Count Orlo commented, putting a handkerchief into his hand and keeping it close to his mouth.

“Yes, well, that’s the way it is…” Lady Svenska said with a shrug.

Turning over, you saw Grigor’s face. He looked faint, green. He was uneducated about what happened during childbirth but insisted if the court wanted to watch he had to be there too. And watching the extremities of the female body firsthand made him tremble. But his hand never left yours throughout the long hours of labor.

“Are you…are you alright, Y/N?” he asked worriedly.

“I…I’m tired…but I’m fine…” you said.

He kissed your cheek, “I’m so proud of you, no matter what…”

The crowd gathered around like chickens as the doctor and nurses cleaned the baby. But you knew there was the one thing they wanted to know. Even more than the baby’s health. Your own heart was beating hard. You heard water swishing as they washed the child.

Then the bundle was handed to the physician in a soft, white blanket. Catherine caught a glimpse of the little one’s new face and she gave a beautiful smile. Then looked up at you, mouthing “congratulations.”

The doctor finally handed it over to you. The baby was alive and breathing.

“Monsieur and Madame Dymov, you are now the parents of a healthy…”

“Thank god…” you blurted.

“A healthy...beautiful little girl…” he finished.

He gave you the bundle and you made out the red, squished face. She was so tiny. She looked almost nothing like and everything you expected. Grigor kept gawking at her.

But there was a silence around the court. You glanced up to see a few curled frowns and whispers. Only the Empress came by to speak to you. She gave a glance at the little one’s face and wished her dearest blessing on your little family before waltzing off.

The tiny hands began to move sporadically. Then he let out a huge grin, a half-laugh came from him. He turned to you, his blue eyes looking large.

“I…I’ve never been so…so…”

“So completely in fucking trouble…”

His head shot up.

“Peter! I…I didn’t see you!” He said. His legs stopped, he stayed by your side, holding the little babe.

Peter walked up and gave him a pat on the back. You gritted your teeth.

“I guess congratulations are in order. She didn’t die…but you don’t have an heir to the Dymov name, title, estates, property, or money! Grigor…”

“Uh, well…I…” Grigor sputtered, blinking between his friend and you with the baby.

“I guess Y/N is a complete failure even after she’s had a good fuck!” he continued.

Tears began to well up in spite of his presence and dipping your head down so only your baby saw you tear up.

“Come on, Peter!... and speaking of come, I have more reason to rejoice…” Grigor jested, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously.

“Humph?”

“More chances to fuck a boy into Y/N, of course! I’ll be enjoying my cock with her every night from now on! By next month, she’ll hardly be able to walk down the hall!” he explained cheerfully, taking Peter by the shoulders and shaking him.

“Why, huzzah! You are optimistic my friend!” he praised, “And I am glad the child’s healthy…for now. You never know. Girls are weak, anyway…that one might drop dead of her own blood when she’s twelve! Now I need to drink some wine for dinner and get a cock-sucking for dessert, goodbye!”

He whisked around and left, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Grigor…are you really disappointed?” you questioned. “I…I’m afraid I…I have failed you…” you found yourself crying. 

The feeling of now emptiness in your belly. The hormones. The experience. Everything came down.

“No…no, Y/N…I love her…I love…our daughter. Our girl. And she’s healthy. That’s all I could ask for…you have not and will never fail me and right now…”

He took your hand and kissed it.

“I love you more than ever…” he confessed.

Smiling, you reached in to “Can I…can I hold her, now?” Grigor asked.

Nodding, you handed the cooing baby over to him.

His jaw dropped as he accepted her. You showed him how to cradle her neck and her bum safely to hold her.

“I’m so fucking nervous, what if I drop her!” he confessed.

“You won’t! Sit on the bed if you’re that nervous!” you offered, weakly shifting aside.

When you handed the tiny girl over to your husband, she began to wriggle. His lips went tight.

“Ah! She already feels heavy! Now she’s moving! She’s minutes old and won’t sit still!” he commented.

“Relax, Grigor…” you urged.

Eventually, she settled down and you had a few first quiet moments. She even opened her eyes to Grigor. And you saw him cry silently.

The next week was thrilling and exhausting. Yet every night, once you heard your daughter wail, Grigor was out of the bed like a shot. You would shift up, but he put a hand in front of you to stop you.

“Here, Y/N…get some sleep…” he ordered.

“But…”

“I didn’t push a fucking baby from my crotch a few days ago! Get some sleep!”

He always insisted on heading over and caring for the little one.

Though, sometimes she was hungry, only then would he wake you up to suckle. He then made sure that a pot of tea was prepared and some kind of cake, biscuit, dessert, or even something like slices of apple and toasted bread. But it was peaceful, the dark night with low lights in your shared, red bedroom. The sound and feel of her mouth on your nipple as she sucked. And Grigor watching as he took care of your empty plate, sipping his tea thoughtfully. But with a quiet smile.

One night, you placed her back on her blanket so you could finish your tea. He even looked at you and said, “I thought…I would like to name her after you, Y/N…”

“I…really?” you asked.

He nodded, “I want her to grow up and to be like you…because you’re the best woman I’ve ever known…and the christening is in two days and that’s the only name I can come up with.”

“Well, alright, it’ll be odd for me, we can call her Mademoiselle Dymov if we get confused.

But he kept playing with the baby every free hour. He held her in her robe and went to mirrors. Pointing at her in the reflection, as she cooed in response.

“Who is that? Who is that! It’s little miss Y/F/N! And isn’t she beautiful!” he cheered.

He kept holding the little girl up to his face and she would reach for him. Playing with his cheeks, lips, and especially his nose until he burst out laughing. She developed a habit of sucking on his nose that he would let her do for several minutes until you couldn’t stop laughing. But he smiled all through it.

The next month, he insisted on a room to be a nursery for the little Mademoiselle. But you were surprised to find every kind of flower, bow, dolly, decoration, and animal toy in there. He was even dressing the little girl already in a tiny blue dress made of silk.

“Why…don’t you look stunning, Princess Y/F/N! I chose that color because that was what your mother wore the day I met her…did you know that?” he whispered, fixing a little bonnet on her head. She babbled in response.

Quietly walking behind, you cleared your throat, and he turned around with a jump.

“I think we’re going to give the Dauphin of Versailles a run for his money with this nursery alone!” you laughed. “She’ll start thinking she is the dauphin of Versailles!”

He grinned, showing you the baby in her new dress.

“Why it’s what she deserves as my daughter!” he answered with his handsome smile.

Although he would go to the Emperor as called, many an evening was spent in front of the roaring fireplace on a cold night holding little Y/F/N or having her in a nearby cradle as you played cards or read, though either your hand or his would reach up to touch or tickle her.

One evening, it was his turn to read. You sat by the fire, holding the little Mademoiselle right over your arms but low on your lap. She looked up at you, laughing at something and you looked down and grinned back. Grigor stopped reading. You caught him looking

“What is it?” you asked quietly.

“I’m just…happy here, with both of my women…that’s all…I never knew I could be so at peace but…here it is…” he commented, before walking up to kiss you on the lips.

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