#i saw a gifset of how broad gaz is and actually fell to my feet

[niccolites]

thinking about gaz in a period setting

i think he's the best suited for a regency era. where it doesn't matter so much what you do so much as the behaviour and standing that you have around what you are doing

gaz as the nephew of a duke, which gives him half a foot up that he slowly strong-arms until he's up on that step, suddenly towering over everyone. he's given allowances that others are not, so beautiful and charming that people let him get away what what he wants for the most part. anything for a favour with him

mothers pair their daughters up with him, men invite him for a drink, for gambling. everyone wants to rub shoulders with him. it feels like more when he graces you with a smile, like you've won his favour. it feels sweeter than it does from the duke

it's a typical story. you are the eldest daughter of a family that certainly used to be rich and only the memory of those times is what keeps you on the edge of polite society rather than blocked at the ornate doors

your mother and father spend most of their time trying to get you wed, trying to save face as you get older and less 'desirable'. it angers you, being treated like a calf to be sold to the most virile bull, or at times, whichever bull happens to be in the area

but you are also aware of the way of things, and your place in that way. you put a face on it, as you were taught. the anger at your situation is outweighed by the shame of letting your family down

maybe kyle has heard of you a few times. one of the men at a poker table complaining about how he to take a walk with you around the park as your father supervised. described you as cold and unfeeling.

maybe there was a few girls tittering at the side of a dance as he eavesdropped, gossiping about how it was getting embarrassing how empty your dance card was most of the time, how time was ticking on and you were slowly becoming an old maid in front of everyone

it's not an unusual story, and not one that puts gaz immediately on your trail. you're not the first young lady who's struggled to find a match, and you likely won't be the last

it isn't until you are out being escorted by another prospect and gaz happens upon you both. your escort is bored of you, and making that as clear as polite society can do. your docile, sweet face, red with embarrassment at being treated like a burden so obviously

gaz politely talks to your escort and chaperone but his gaze is intent on you

he's enraptured. greedy as he takes in the furrow of your brow, the shy look in your eye as you're introduced to him. courteous, but shy. such a sweet thing being mistreated in a way that has his back straightening immediately

now gaz has his attention fixed on you. nose in the wind like a stalking cougar, keeps bumping into you to take you in. you fluster under his sudden attention, uncertain. he elevates this to outright asking you to dance himself once

he watches the expression across your face, the shock, the wariness, melting into gratefulness. he swallows it all up, seeming to get broader as you finally look him in the eye. he can see his reflection in your pupil for a moment, dizzy with the idea that he's taking up space in you as much as you are for him

he starts officially courting you, the perfect gentleman who never fails to bring a chaperone with him. you barely know what to do with yourself. you feel shy and warm in turns, like the sun has cast a spotlight on you specifically. always turning as if maybe he has you mixed up with someone else. sun-sick and feverish under his hot attention

he's taking you a turn around the gardens, sloping green paths and gaz is sharp, he knows when the chaperone's briefly out of view. brushes his bare finger along the exposed skin of your wrist. you give him a look out of the side of your eye, but you don't say anything

allowances. the flesh of your wrist, becomes your arm, becomes your shoulder, your hand. you let him take because it feels like he's giving. a second alone and it's spent with his nose almost touching yours. breath shared.

always prowling around the edge of proprietary. at a dance and he flexes his fingers around your waist, feeling the air you shudder in. escorts you to a play and slips your glove off to fit his fingers into the grooves of your knuckles. presses into the bare flesh. he can feel the bones of your hand, wants to press down further to get to the marrow. this is why it's frowned upon, no one should be able to casually touch skin to skin like this. how can he remain unchanged now he knows how your skin warms against his?

it's dizzying, how he plays fast and loose with your reputation, and yet you seem so grateful that he's paying you any attention at all. he's the gentleman, the hero that has rescued you from the shame of being unwanted. it swells up in him, how you thank him for the smallest things, how it lets him in a little further

he loves being your hero, being the kind man you want him to be. it fills him with pride, makes him feel like a good man as he brushes the back of his finger across your exposed collar bone. inches away from your heart, like he could get in if he wanted. you flush, big eyes so soft, like you would let him.

he proposes to you, and you blink up at him, stupefied. you stammer, uncertain. although this is the endgame of this dynamic, you had always figured it would eventually tail off the way it usually does for you, being unwanted an inevitability

you need a little convincing. that's alright, he's always had to take a little initiative out of the two of you, a little more assertive to convince you what you deserve

he'd asked your parents for privacy, making it clear what he had been about to ask. they had only been more than happy to oblige

your skirts are tucked up around your waist, biting down on your fingers to muffle yourself as he fucks into you. he coos down at you, replaces your fingers with his. always hurting yourself, see you need him. so much gentler with him than you are yourself, you suck on his digits, his sweet girl

no one else would make it good for you, no one would make sure it barely hurt if at all. it angers him suddenly, the idea of anyone else having you, and disregarding you once they have taken what they wanted

it's quick, it has to be. there are allowances but gaz knows exactly how much he can take before it is noticed how much he has. he apologises for this, and you melt, letting him tuck his face into the curve of your neck

he makes sure you come first, near on blacks out as he thinks about how he's shaping your cunt in the shape of his cock, all for him. snaps his hips one last time and drinks down your whimper before he rights you again

you're still a little dumbfounded as he tells everyone the great news, your mother crying and your father clapping kyle on the shoulder in congratulations

if your looking a bit peaky on your wedding day and the next morning you're sick in the washbasin, well. he's happy to take on the reputation of an eager husband, don't even worry about it, dove. he's always been allowed to take more than the average man, everyone knows that