Chapter Text
Good Boy
When one thinks of Duke Aegir’s residence, their mind would first drift to the aesthetically appealing structures, the riches and gold it contained. To you, it had to be the garden.
It would be more appropriate to call this grandiose manor a palace, rather than your home.
Large patches of flowers of all kinds, from annual to perennial, there are many different options that consistently bloom in colors all across the spectrum. A gentle breeze would ruffle your hair as you memorize the harmonized set of dance moves of each individual leaf. You spend most of your sullen days there, if you ever muster up enough motivation to step out of your chambers.
It has been five moons since the papers binding you in marriage to Ferdinand von Aegir had been signed. Everything felt blurry between flushes of colors between ceremony and lavish grand ball—something to be expected from a union between prominent houses in the Adrestian Empire. You can’t remember a thing but your handshake and warmth of his lips on your forehead as your wedding kiss—a polite gesture to honor your feelings about this arranged marriage.
You knew unsavory things about the previous Duke Aegir and were reluctant when your Father insisted you to marry his son—to merge his tremendous territories adjoining to House Aegir’s. You have feared that he will be every bit as corrupt and manipulative as his father, yet you find him to be unexpectedly warm.
Truth be told, you'd been impressed with the new Duke Aegir himself as well. Aegir territory is recovering and flourishing quickly under his reign, becoming one of the most prosperous regions in all of Fódlan. Despite the genuine camaraderie between your Fathers in their younger days, you don’t hold any special feelings toward him. Or at least, you used to think so.
Tomorrow he should be back at this manor. The polite gentleman with a distinct preference for teas and horses. The Duke who always treats you compassionately—even provides you with a personal opulent chamber with a lovely garden within when you hinted uneasiness about sharing bed with him.
Your arranged marriage to Duke Aegir fills you with a whirlwind mess of emotions—nerves, frustration, and more recently, an anxious, fluttery feeling you can’t comprehend. Lately the days feel a bit longer and emptier when he is gone to attend his noble duties. Somehow your heart is torn between wanting to rush to greet him or avoiding him.
You've lost track of how long you've spent on your own personal haven—a secluded area of small enclosure framed by latticework braided with blooming vines in your personal garden. The corridors of flowers and immaculately trimmed hedges make it almost hidden.
“Good evening.” The said person is approaching. You visibly stiffen as you recognize that voice.
“D-Duke Aegir. To what do I owe the pleasure for this nice, surprise visit? I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” You flinch into a flustered curtsy, suddenly feeling way too inappropriately dressed under the careful scrutiny of the Duke, debonair as always. Comfortable cotton clothes and pants suit him perfectly. It looks nice, crisp and form-fitting, his initials sewn in as usual on the hem of his shirt.
“How kind of you to grace me with your earlier presence. I am pleased to have you back here, my Duke,” you curtsy.
Ferdinand hums, draping his cloak over your flimsy nightdress. When he draws back, his amber eyes are filled with sadness. “Please drop the formalities. You can call me Ferdinand. How about enjoying dinner with me?”
“It would be my pleasure, Duke Ferdinand. Ah! I’m sorry.”
His brow raises as he watches your fidgeting smaller form, noting the hesitation. “Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. There’s no need to apologize.” Oh. He wants you to call you by his name and be more relaxed around him. Is this acceptable?
It’s kind of heartwarming to know he rushed himself from the capital to this manor just for you. He made what ought to be a half day’s journey in seven or six hours, by your estimate. Exhaustion is palpable on his features.
“Ferdinand von Aegir.”
A gentle laugh comes from him. He offers his arm to walk together with you. “Let us make our way then, (Y/N) von Aegir. My dear (Y/N).”
Calling Duke Aegir by name is a daunting task for you. Would it be acceptable to address Adrestian’s Prime Minister by his first name, even though he is your husband? Ferdinand....
Pink blush dusting your cheeks when Ferdinand sings your name affectionately–enough to pull you back from your train of thoughts. His voice has always stirred something in you these past weeks. A soft yelp escapes from your mouth when he steps closer, arms grazing against yours softly as you stride down the hallways. He only looks at you patiently, giving some time for you to take your leave—which you don’t.
His casual touch and kind gestures always make you feel uneasy. Especially since Ferdinand got back from Enbarr with a huge gash across his chest last moon.
Had your Father not saved him from the bandit ambush, things would have turned out the worst. It was not life threatening, but the wound was so severe that he caught a high fever—something you hope will never befall him ever again.
Who would have thought Ferdinand has a muscular, lean body hidden beneath his dapper clothes? You can still remember it like yesterday. It was quite challenging to concentrate yourself to heal his other wounds and wipe the sweats off his body all-night long.
Touching Ferdinand’s bare body proved to be unhealthy for your heart. You were almost sure your heart would explode from beating too fast from such an act. Redressing the bloodied bandage is another arduous task as well—and the way Ferdinand smiled when he watched you heal him didn’t help either.
The injury was deep and you had to use more Faith magic than ever before. Pouring magic from your hand into his wound, you slowly knitted the muscle and skin back together. Your Faith magic skills are mediocre at best but you are relieved to be able to provide some help for Ferdinand.
His exposed acres of clear porcelain skin adorned with freckles make you feel like gazing into a galaxy of stars, adorned by small star-maps across his skin—just waiting to be explored and loved. And when he noticed your blush and tugged you softly, as if asking for permission, then kissed your lips softly for the first time? That was.....
“(Y/N)? Are you feeling well?”
Dearest Goddess. How could you think of Duke Aegir, no, Ferdinand in such an outrageous way? You can only peek at him shyly and nod, then proceed to poke a slab of meat on your plate.
Ferdinand’s private dining room is adjoined to his chambers, almost twice larger than yours, with racks of candles and shelves of books. A massive chandelier hung from the pale ceiling lit up the room with wavering warmth, accentuates Ferdinand's gleeful expression when he nibbles on a cake. Red curtains draping over the windows and silver moonlight barely able to peek through the silk material. On the wooden floor is a luxury red rug with black and minor gold details on the edges. The range of defensive items on the farthest end of his study seems innumerable. Helmets, armor, gauntlets. Is Ferdinand fond of them? There are so many interesting things about him that you did not know yet.
“Have something on your mind? You haven’t touched your dinner too much, (Y/N). Do you find it not to your liking?” Ferdinand’s eyes are shining with pure sincerity and concern when you only fidget and open and close your mouth. Always so kind and caring.
Your mind feels strange tonight; a swirling storm of emotions run amok. Threatening to burst and pour, breaking free from being suppressed for the past five moons. Maybe it would be wise to let him know how you truly feel.
“I am glad you are back safe and sound from your noble duties but you should be resting, not pushing yourself to indulge a dinner with me. Hardworker, earnest, patient, compassionate, and warm. You are magnificent, D-Du.... F-Fe-Fer.....”
“What is it?”
“F-Ferdinand!!” You squirm and cover your burning face with your hands. “I said it already!! And I can’t thank you enough for it. What you did for my people, our people. Lots of your reforms and policies have brought swift recovery and massive benefit to our commonfolk... I would do my best to offer you my aid as well. I want you to know that I truly appreciate your hardworks.”
Silence. A long pause of silence. What’s wrong? Seconds stretch to minutes, making you wonder whether you said something wrong. You try to pry your hands away, only to find a stunned Ferdinand. Gaping and astonished.
“Huh? Oh!” Prominent blush is his cheeks at your words. “You called me by my name for the first time! Your praises are....” He tries to taper it off by scooping a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth but his awkward movements make it splotch on his nose a bit. He fidgets a bit when you approach him and poke the cream off and lick it clean.
“You’re a good boy. Good boy. A very good one and you are making me really proud, Ferdinand.” You beam radiantly before patting his hair. Seeing it up close, it resembles a lion’s mane in sunset color. Similar to clouds. Wonderful earthy scent with a tint of citrus and tangerine of his cologne matches his incredibly soft and beautiful hair.
“Thank you for being so patient with me, Ferdinand. You are the best. Always treating me with nothing but utmost care and respect even you have never touch me since our marriage. I am grateful for your kindness. Now I should go back to my chambers. Please make sure to get some rest,” you smile and touch his shoulder gently, then promptly turning heel, probably not noticing the way Ferdinand’s heart somersaults at the praise. You are about to open the door when you feel Ferdinand’s arms on your waist.
Millions of fireworks are blooming in Ferdinand's eyes. They are sparkling brighter than the stars outside the window. “Would you mind if you... spend the night together, in here, my chambers? Please don’t go back.” His pleading, sparkling eyes remind you of a puppy.
“Fer... di... nand... uhm.. you are too close.” You blush when Ferdinand scoots even closer and leans to you. The only sound the crackle of flames in the hearth are screaming and jumping before you realize it was the thumping of your own heartbeat, the rush of blood in your ears.
“My heart can’t take this.” Your hands nervously pluck at the delicate laces of your nightdress as you try to take off your eyes from Ferdinand. A tiny habit you couldn’t seem to get rid of.
Even without him speaking you can understand what Ferdinand wants perfectly. His hands grab your left hand and place it on his heart, and he holds it there. His eyes exude love, sincerity, patience, and respect. “I always want to express my gratitude for you, (Y/N). Capable and dedicated, you are always doing your best to help me managing the Aegir territory. I am worried you will hate and avoid me for eternity. But to have my dearest wife here beside me, talking about our feelings earnestly, I feel grateful,” he says softly.
"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected Ferdinand to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... always work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."
A calloused hand cups your cheek and spreads long fingers into your hair. Ferdinand smiles and lets go of your hands. With one hand he runs his fingers through your hair and gently guides your face closer to his, back to meet your gaze. Letting his thumb pad swipes against your bottom lip, drawing out a soft moan from you. His lips are warm and soft, and a rush of heat washes through your body.
One of your hands slides into the his clothes, roaming his broad chest, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. You lean into him, fists clenching around his clothing, pulling him against you. Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace.
How often had you recalled how his kiss had felt in these past weeks and months? Even then, you know your memory couldn't compare with the feeling of his body pressed to yours and his tongue brushing along the crease of your lips. You welcome him and feel his heart pounding beneath your touch.
Something about Ferdinand’s gentle movements settles something large and clunky in your ribs, calming you down. For the first time you take a shuddering breath, an overbearing mix of emotions doesn't wrack your soul, for the first time, you feel at peace.
Spurred by your response, Ferdinand pulls away softly and gazes right into your eyes. “Could we continue this further? I-If you aren’t comfortable, we can always spend the night together and not do anything. I’ll take the couch and will not lay a hand on you until the day that you—" In tune with those words your hands begin to slowly slide up his strong chest, fingers linking behind his neck and bringing him down to press another soft kiss against his lips.
Without giving you a second to register what is happening, Ferdinand quickly carries you and lays you onto the bed with ease. He is surprisingly strong for how slender he appears. You are landing on the softness of the many blankets and pillows littered around the bed—yet you can't take your eyes off Ferdinand's sculpted figure. In mere moments, his clothes are folded neatly on the edge of the table top, his pants and boxers soon to follow.
Ferdinand’s eyes roam over your body, realizing that you are still in your sleepwear. A small nod from you makes his breath hitches. Ferdinand is glad that you are as willing as he is hoping you’d be, butterflies bashing against his stomach as his fingers trails down your shoulder, showing yourself to him.
Kisses and soft bites from Ferdinand worship every part of your body as he unravels you bare to him. Slowly. Gentle. Loving. Ferdinand wants to take his time with you, indulging on every inch of your beautiful curves. You're grateful for the dimly lit room, only being illuminated by the narrow stream of moonlight coming from the windows.
“A-ah… It feels weird but nice. Ferdinand, please.... So good.” Every nibble, groping, and licks on your breasts elicits soft whimpers from your lips. And here comes your honeyed eulogy again, the very same that Ferdinand would have spiraling dreams of.
Good boy. Good boy. Good boy.
How embarrassing your melodious praise uttering two simple words could rile Ferdinand up like this, blood draining to his reddening face and stirring cock. Such simple words from your lips make him shudder and pause. Ferdinand can barely keep his breath in check, maddening arousal pulses through his veins.
“Please, my wife,” rasps Ferdinand. “I want to pleasure you. May I?” He asks timidly, brows furrow with worry. Ferdinand could hardly dare imagine the disappointment, or perhaps even mild anger, corrupting your kind face. Some small part of him just died at the peak of that mental image.
“If you wish, Ferdinand, I don’t really mind.” Ferdinand’s breathing grows ragged as you lay your hand on his chest. With that Ferdinand fumbles with your nightdress and underthings, displaces them clumsily with need and furious at himself for his clumsiness.
Strings of compliment from your lips are muffled against his shoulder as Ferdinand slips fingers between your thighs. There’s hardly resistance even with his feathery touch. As if afraid to break you with pressure from his two fingers. You’re wet already, hungering for this, hungering for more, taking them up without resistance.
Ferdinand, in turn, moans in surprise at the velvety walls parting under his touch like warm butter. “I-Is it your first time?” He whispers, voice straining, as he plows his long fingers, pressing deeper and deeper each thrust, basking in your moans.
“...Yes,” came your reply. It sounded worried, burdened with the stress of his reaction. Ferdinand however, leaned in to slot your lips together in a benign waltz, slow and soothing. Effects were immediate, from the way you soften and relax in Ferdinand’s one-armed embrace.
“We are in the same boat, then.”
“You’re d-doing a great job, ah- hng…”
Ferdinand twitches bodily at the compliment, fingers curling up instinctively inside your heat from the treacly warmth that blossomed through his face and torso. He seemed to nudge against a bundle of sensitive nerves, for you let out a high-pitched moan.
“Are you alright?” he gasps frantically.
“Yeah I’m, a-ah… d-do that- mmf- again—”
Ferdinand doesn’t need telling twice, curling his fingers up into that specific spot as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, eyes rolled back. The warmth of his breath tickling your skin in the most delicious way. Soon, another finger is pounding at your tight pussy, filling the room with pants and lewd squelches. Your whimpers at the overwhelming sensation morphes into a high moan as Ferdinand drags his hand across your clit, his other hand kneading one of your breasts as his thumb pinches your nipple.
You feel the heavy blush on your cheeks. Everything is so hot. Your heart is racing. You are breathing heavily. It is almost painful how much time Ferdinand takes for himself to explore you. “My Duke,” you aren’t sure how wrecked you look, eyelids drooping, chest heaving.
Ferdinand hums, idly biting and sucking a bruise onto the side of your neck. “Call me Ferdinand.” He whispers into your ear as he presses your bodies against each other.
“F-Ferdinand,” you tried the name out. It was unfamiliar on your tongue. Probably as red as a tomato, you swallow and try to remind yourself how to breathe as he continues. “My husband, please.”
“Fret not. I will take good care of you.” He is ready to beg if necessary, but you need no further convincing. You allow Ferdinand to push into you, feeling your body tense up and relax under his touch as he goes in further. There’s only the barest stinging pain, nothing compared to the sweet, aching push, the sensation of being filled.
"Am I hurting you?" Ferdinand sighs, stilling his hips.
"No," you shake your head.
"Are you comfortable?" he checks.
"Mm hm," you gasp as you nod your head. “Please go on.”
Ferdinand takes a deep breath as he watches your face contort when he alternates between giving you short and long strokes. Dull pain gradually turns into sweet ache, numbing sensation. Heat builds inexorably in your core.
“Treating me so good, so well-behaved for me…”
Your sweet moans and pants are music to his ears; enchanting songs entice him more and more as he slips deeper into you, kissing your womb. Ferdinand leans his forehead against yours as he continues to move in and out of you like he wants to bury himself inside of you.
“T-Too big, Goddess, Ferdinand , this feels too—too good, ah!” You moan out, rocking your hips as you chase the delicious frictions.
Gently, Ferdinand pulls back out and slams right back into you, making you mewl. He feels his mind glaze over from your saccharine reverence. Once again, he slowly withdraws himself and then buries himself inside you. You let out a gasp as he continues to push himself to the hilt, filling you up.
Slowly but sure, Ferdinand can feel his mind topped to the brim with the feeling of you falling apart beneath him. Those addicting moans, those rambling praises that make him feel fuzzy and lightheaded.
“Every compliment from your beautiful lips set my heart aflame, dear (Y/N). Go on, keep praising me like you just did.” His soft lips gently and tenderly caressing yours, feeling his love translate through his affection. You moan into his mouth when Ferdinand plunges back down. It is slow, tortuous, and drawn-out. Heady sighs left your lips as he sinks down, inch by inch. Underneath, you are already a panting mess, hands alternating between scratching fluffy bed sheets and gathering handfuls of plush flesh on Ferdinand’s ass in a vice grip.
Apparently throwing gentleness to the wind, Ferdinand let his hips draw back and snap forward sharply, pelvises meeting with a loud, obscene slap as he grunts on top of you.
You could taste sweat at the skin of his neck. The slide of his warm skin over yours is magical and your body twitches and writhe beneath him with every thrust that buried him deeper inside you, with every drag of his chest over your nipples. Somehow, the slapping sound of skin against skin turned you on even more.
“Ahh, you reach so deep inside me… You’re so good for me, aren’t you? My good boy, lovely husband, I've wanted to be with you for so long, Ferdinand… S-so, ah , so perfect…” You are rambling, only paying half a mind to the words tumbling out of your mouth, not knowing they hold the weight of Ferdinand’s world in them. You can feel how his member twitches at every praise from your lips.
Every word of muttered praise, each compliment of much-needed validation… Ferdinand’s head is spinning, his world is spiraling, and he is out of breath. Then, without even realizing, your hand runs up along his cheek, and a shudder runs through his frame. One arm hooks under your knee, drawing your leg upward and allowing him to push deeper into you, while the other arm slides under your waist to hold your body flush to his.
Caging you against the bed, Ferdinand bucks his hips forward, suddenly thrusting into you deeper and harsher. You gasp out his name, your fingers curling in his hair, which only provokes him further.
“If- if you don't... I will, I can’t—"
Ferdinand can't make his words coherent, but you feel his cock swell, twitch, and throb inside of you and know he's close.
"I-I want it..!" you whimper in his ear, “Please, fill me, Ferdinand. I want to feel you!”
Gone is the final straw of Ferdinand’s restraint, and with a shaky moan, he drives into you to the hilt, nearly slamming you on the bed. His cock pulses and throbs as he cums, each volley causing his length to swell out against your clenching hole.
Physical pleasure might not be the foremost thing in Ferdinand’s noble mind. He must not indulge in it often; he's cumming so hard inside you with a muffled grunt, painting your walls with his cum. You can feel his entire body tense, and before long, Ferdinand fills you so thoroughly that you feel his release dripping down your ass and thighs.
“(Y/N)....”
Both of you are panting as you gradually calm down from the haze of your orgasms. Your mind blanked out at the relentless twinges of pleasure as Ferdinand rubs your back soothingly, guiding you down from the euphoria. In some distant corner of your mind, you think you can feel Ferdinand’s smile on your forehead. More. You want to see more.
Ferdinand is about to slowly rolls over onto his sides to ease out from you before you embraces him gently. “W-wait, no, d-don’t yet…” you mumble, hardly coherent, hands tightening in his hair and pulling his head down to watch him closely. “Don’t go.”
“Hm”, Ferdinand makes an undescriptive sound, winding his arms tightly around your middle and rolling over without his body leaving yours. Looking at each other, you are taking in how flushed and disheveled both of you. Even the warmth of the fireplace holds no candle to the blossoming warmth, renewed affection and tenderness that flicker between you.
“Thanks for this. I've wanted to be with you for so long, Ferdinand. This large manor feels desolate and cold when you were away,” you sigh sleepily, “You’ve been so sweet to me all evening, I’m so proud of you. My good boy.” Smiling warmly, you brush stray bangs away from his face as you both catch your breath.
One heartfelt kiss from you is all it takes to make Ferdinand’s heart flutter—and eases out of you from surprise. He flops down with a loud thud out of embarrassment to the floor when he watches some of his semen start to slip out of you, dripping in viscous rivulets onto the bedsheets, though. Poor Ferdinand.
“I fear I may have made a mess of you and the bed... our... bed, (Y/N). Do you, er... require anything of me? Probably we could use some clean up.” Ferdinand’s face has the same color as his hair now.
You're still a bit shaky, bitten and kissed everywhere, and not to mention practically dripping with your husband’s cum. Regardless, you reach out and help him to climb back to the bed.
“Wait- just...” you rest your hands on his chest, speaking softly in the quiet of your bedroom, “stay with me a little while?” A lovely smile adorns your lips as you note his arms wrap around your body and melt into the afterglow with you, sneaking kisses onto whatever he could reach of you.
“I dearly regret having made you feel lost here, (Y/N). I ought make more time to spend with you,” he says softly, watching your expressions as gathers you into his arms, “I have been a terribly neglectful husband, I fear. We should move your things here tomorrow and get to know each other better.”
“.... I believe… We did,” you giggle sheepishly. “But I would not be against your fine idea. You are always so kind to me. My good boy Ferdinand.” You nuzzle your head against Ferdinand’s chest to hide your burning cheeks.
Perhaps it is the best course because your praise makes Ferdinand's member valiantly rise again—and he tries his best to stave it away when he watches you look too worn out for round two. Upon your exhausted face, though, you wear a smile that could melt thousands of hearts.
“I had forgotten how charmingly ethereal you can be. Now… as much as I am eager for the days ahead, we should get some rest.” Ferdinand lets out a bashful laugh and hugs you protectively. And so, deciding to clean up could wait until morning, he pulls the covers over you both, and puts off the candle on the bedside. Then, with Ferdinand’s seed still inside you, and the unmistakable scent of sex heavy in the air, you both drift off to sleep.