𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — 1.7k+ words, vampire!fyodor x fem!reader, fluff + n/sfw, virginity loss, spitting (not like u think lol), soft!fyodor, cunnilingus, blood, biting, etc • this surprisingly won the poll soooo here u guys go ! also i didn't originally intend for him to be a vampire but like the latest chapter did something to me.. anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & NOT PROOFREAD
"fedya i —"
"hush, my dear, let me take care of you," fyodor hummed, smooth but warm voice effectively cutting you off. "it's your first time, after all — we can't possibly have this be an unpleasant time for you," he spoke calmly, reaching out a thumb to smooth the crease between your brows, "i've got you, angel."
you nodded, hesitantly — wanting to please fyodor but it seemed like he was dead set on making this special for you. "now," your train of thought got cut off by fyodor's rich voice once again, "do you trust me, myshka?" he murmured the words into your neck — inhaling the sweet scent of your body lotion mixed with your natural smell. "do you even have to ask that, my love?" you chuckled, soft fingers brushing away a stray hair from his face, tucking that piece behind his ear and he smiled, "no, but it doesn't hurt to ask, right sweetheart?" cold lips pressed themselves against your neck — before his tongue darted out to lick at the sensitive skin.
you gasped when he finally bit down on your neck, fangs etching themselves deep into your soft flesh, you could feel your face flush at the way fyodor's hands were trying to grab anywhere he could, until they settled on the small of your back, pressing you as close to him as possible.
"f-fedya.." you pressed against his chest when you started to feel light headed, immediately catching his attention as he pulled away — you could see your blood staining his vampiric teeth and running down his lips in a line. "apologies, my dear — i was simply drunk off of your taste," he licked his lips clean before pressing them against your cheek — merely brushing them against your eager lips for a second before pulling away. damn tease.
"why don't you take this off for me, hm?" long fingers brushed against the straps of your nightgown, his hands itching to just rip the flimsy piece of clothing off — but he had to be patient. he didn't want to rush things with you, after all.
you happily obliged his request, slipping the thin straps off your shoulder, before shimmying out of the dress. now only in your undergarments, you shivered from the night air hitting your sensitive spots. but before you could even complain, fyodor suddenly captured your lips in a heated kiss — your inexperienced ones struggling to keep up with his.
you didn't even notice he had you pinned on the bed until your back hit the mattress, your hair sprawled on the sheets like a halo around you — making you look like an angel in his eyes. "..beautiful," fyodor whispered against your collarbones, leaving small nips and bites there — his cool lips a great contrast to your heated skin.
"f-fedya," you moaned once his hands found your breasts, fondling the soft mounds in his palms before looking up at you with those amethyst eyes. "yes, my dear?" he grinned, brushing his sharp teeth on the side of your tit, restraining himself from biting you.
"touch me more, please," you begged, hips twitching up involuntarily when his fingers found your nipples, pinching the hardened buds between his lithe digits while pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts.
"i'd be a fool not to," he chuckled, happily obliging to your pleads. "let's take this off, yeah?" he put his fingers in the waistband of your panties, admiring the pretty little bow on the skimpy garment. it felt like he was unwrapping a present — your pussy.
he watched as strings of your arousal stuck to the fabric as he pulled it away, revealing your awaiting and untouched cunt to him. "absolutely gorgeous," he breathed out, the air fanning on your folds made your head spin. fyodor eventually took your panties fully off, chucking it somewhere on the bed, but his eyes were on you the entire time — on that perfect cunt.
"may i, darling?" fyodor licked his lips, trying his best to not just shove his head between your thighs — he needed you to say it, to want it as bad as he did.
"please, need you so bad right now —!," you whined, tossing your head back once he licked a flat stripe up your cunt, groaning lowly at the taste. "taste's s'good," he purred, gathering your slick on his tongue before dipping the pink muscle into your hole — almost tongue-fucking you.
"mmh," you tried your best to muffle the sinful noises escaping your lips — biting down on your hand so hard it's almost enough to draw blood, until you felt fyodor's cold hands pry it away — "i want to hear you, my love, don't be shy —" his tongue swirled over your clit deliciously, "sing for me."
and you did — back arching so sweetly while those intoxicating little moans and whines rolled off your tongue, all while fyodor's was moving in and out of you.
" 'm gonna cum — fedya, please," your hand found purchase in his soft ebony locks, tugging on it gently and hearing, feeling him moan into your cunt — sending vibrations throughout your whole body.
"please what?" he finally opened his eyes, mischief written all over his features as he worked his mouth on you. "what do you want me to do, pretty girl?" fyodor hummed, pulling away to spread your folds with his thumbs — before spitting directly onto your hole, watching the tight ring clench and unclench rapidly. how cute, he thought.
you gasped at the lewd show he was putting on, before reluctantly speaking up, "please make — make me c-cum, fedya," the tears gathered on your lashes finally fell, earning a soft coo from the man between your legs.
"is that right, my love?" he mused, reaching down a finger to collect some of your slick before plunging the long digit in — breath catching in his throat once he felt just how tight and warm you were. "cum for me, beautiful," that was the last thing he rasped before diving in — groaning unashamedly into your cunt. that was all you needed, the final push before releasing all over his face and mouth, drenching his chin down to his collar, and he wasn't even mad about it.
"oh oh go— gosh, feels s'good," you clenched your eyes shut at the unbelievable amount of pleasure, it was so good. fyodor continued to lick and gulp down all your juices, muttering praises in between.
once he finally pulled away, he finally took a good look at you and fuck — you looked utterly debauched. tits spilling from the bra he was yet to completely take off, the bite marks littering your skin and your face. especially your face — eyes glazed over and unfocused as little pants left your mouth, drool and tears running down your chin. you looked like a ruined mess — a beautiful ruined mess.
fyodor didn't waste any time before beginning to undress himself, he needed to fuck you — now. he could feel how unbelievably hard he was, it almost hurt how turned on he was, not that he'd ever admit how crazy you make him.
"you're ready," he breathed, before kissing you deeply — hardened cock rubbing against your folds and spreading his precum on them, mixing with your arousal. "so ready," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, pinning you against the headboard this time.
"do tell if this hurts too much," he groaned, biting his chapped lips as he slowly pushed the tip in — feeling you contract around him nearly drove him insane. you gasped and writhed in pain as he entered you — but it felt so good at the same time, to be so impossibly close to the man you love — you didn't mind the pain too much, instead focusing on the blooming warmth in your chest.
that warmth intensified once you glanced at his face — usual pale skin now flushed, brows furrowed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he looked almost angelic — as if he wasn't a creature of sin.
fyodor's eyes opened and he caught you staring at him in awe, his lips twitching up to show a genuine smile — filled with love and warmth for you. only for you.
"you feel so good, moya lyubov," he almost moaned out — hips thrusting so sensually it almost had you rolling your eyes back.
"a-ah fyodor —!" you mewled so cutely when he brushed his fangs against your neck — so sharp they almost drew blood. "can i? please, milyy," he pleaded — and who were you to say no to him?
you didn't answer him with words, only craning your neck to give him more access — and he got the memo. sharp fangs sunk into your neck, making you tightening your grip on fyodor — his hips quickening their pace, now becoming desperate, and hungry for release.
the taste of your blood filled fyodor's senses — you tasted so good, so sweet he had to hold himself back from cumming immediately — he had to make his girl cum first, right?
your eyes shot open once you felt cold fingertips rubbing your clit in hurried circles, walls clenching even more on the vampire's length which had him muttering small curses in russian. you could feel yourself getting light-headed from the loss of blood — but it wasn't fatal, he'd never hurt you like that. "close, milaya?" he grunted, now licking up the blood dripping from the punctures on your neck — his eyes rolling back slight from the metallic taste.
"yes — yesyesyes —!" you squealed, gushing all over his cock, soaking the bedsheets in the process. fyodor couldn't last much longer either, your taste along with the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him had him cumming seconds after you — both of you moaning in unison as he filled you to the brim.
you yelped when fyodor slumped against you — for a vampire, he didn't have the stamina of one. "tired?" you breathed out, brushing some stray hair from his pretty face. fyodor only hummed in response, eyes opening to take in the sight of you underneath him — pants leaving the both of you. your hair was messy, dried blood and tears staining your skin. "so beautiful," he hummed, pressing his lips against your temple. "you did so well, my love," he praised, chuckling at the way you suddenly became so shy.
"get some rest, my dear — i'll have ivan make you something rich in iron. i may have took... a tad too much blood," he sighed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. you could only nod absentmindedly, eyes fluttering closed as the tiredness finally got to you.
an "i love you, sleep well, beautiful girl," was the last thing you heard before slipping away in dream land.
fyodor x reader fic where he enthusiastically shows u his calico critter collection but ur actually a captive and he just cannot remember what he kidnapped you for
Fyodor is laying next to you on the bed, drawing his name on your back through your silk nightgown. Both of you relishing in the quiet tranquility of the night. Fyodor is unsure how he got exactly to this predicament, the memories fuzzy at the end, but whatever he did he thanked himself greatly for. Of course he would never admit someone as refined as himself would fall for a... well a lesser being per se. But seeing you so vulnerable made his heat beat irregularly.
Suddenly Fyodor wakes up, alone, it was just a dream. A groan is earned from his throat. Usually Fyodor'd never drop to such lows such as letting out such a crude noise but at the moment he couldn't hide his upmost disappointment. He had the world at his fingertips just for it to be jerked away.
"Ahem..? Dostoevsky?" Theres a soft knock on the door and your voice travels to his ears. Checking the clock Fyodor quickly realizes he slept in. "You skipped a meeting with Nikolai, Sigma, and Bram. Are you feeling alright?" Cursing in Russian, French, and a dead language Fyodor jumps to a stand.
"I'll be right there!" He slips on a button down and dress pants before opening the door, seeing his dark hair so disheveled made your breath hitch.
"Dostoevsky? You're acting quite strange today." You invite yourself into his room, pushing past him. "Don't worry though, I told the others you fell ill."
"Thank you, I'm in your debt." Fyodor mumbles out begrudgingly before his tone lightens once more. "Now that you here, ___..." He starts while fixing his hair. "Are you available for tea and chess any time this week, perhaps?"
"Are you asking me out?"
"Its a business meeting, dear. Unless you want it to be something else?"
"Oh!" You flush with sheepish embarrassment. "Forget I said anything at all! I'm free today and tomorrow."
"How about this afternoon then?" Seeing your face light up at his words caused him to swivel and turn away on his heel, hiding how pink his pale face got. "Sounds like a plan then."
Okay can someone pls help me find that one Fyodor x reader fic series in which apparently we both are immortal? I remember the first chapter was "Angel, he calls me" or something like that but I neither remember the writer nor the rest and I can't find it anymore-
Oh? You have extended the event I see. In that case...
Route 1
A- 7 and 11
B- Fyodor
C- Fluff
D- playing a chess game 😁
I’ve only had this in my inbox since the 19th…
Fyodor x reader
#7 You think you can win? & #11 You’re adorable when you pout.
Fluff-
Words- 1518
Warnings- none well some religious themes. (you know the usual Fyodor god complex)
~
Often nights like this were spent huddled around the fire. Getting the strong, tall, yet malnourished god to settle down and rest was indeed a rare occurrence. Stressed from the recent hardships of the last mission he cuddled against his lover. The warmth of the fire helped to keep his body warm. The shivering he never noticed calming with the warmth of the fur blanket, the fire, and the presence of his lover. It was truly an unusual sight to behold, even as the moonlight shed its dazzling beams through stained-glass windows. If anybody were to catch sight of this spectacle, they may be confused and accuse Fyodor of not being the real Fyodor. This was the side of him, even the man's lover hardly saw. A gentle calm in the thunder of his complexes. He showed you the calm side of god because he thought his lover (like himself) was above all other beings on this earth. If he were the god of this world, that made them his guardian angel. Maybe one day this mortal would be more to him than that, they were already settled inside his cold heart, but maybe one day he would make them a deity within a similar perspective as he was.
As you sat cuddled against him, you noted the distraction within his eyes. To others, he still appeared well calculated and focused, but to you, somebody who knew him, he was far from calm. He never went into details about who he was outside your life or what he did. The only starts to him you truly knew were what he did tell you. The risk of loving him, his views on this hell-bent earth, how some people considered him, and of course, you knew he killed. It wasn’t a problem for you though, only because you had found out after he’d stolen your heart, and made you his in both mind and body. You believed he was making a better world, for the Fyodor you knew was different from the Fyodor the agency, mafia, and even the Decay of angels knew. Unlike the others, you knew that there were still shards of humanity within him. The way he protects you against people, the way he’d look at you when he was truly exhausted, and on the verge of passing out. He spoiled you with his music, his touch, words, and gifts. He told you constantly how only you knew the way he could be. From a wrathful and destructive god to a pleasant fair one. He also knew of your intelligence, he understood you were not somebody who would be easily taken advantage of.
Glancing towards him with a smirk, you placed your lips against the pale male's luke-warm skin. He hummed turning to look at you with disinterested yet excited eyes. He always knew when small unexpected acts of affection appeared from you, something was going on within your head. His violet eyes danced around your expression before his lips parted, and the tired heavy voice that belonged to him met your ear. “Is there something you'd like to request? Use your words, little mouse.” he was always one to tease you, even at times like this he’d refer to you in small degrading names.
With a small eye roll, you flicked his forehead. “Come on, let’s play a game of chess. You always wind down better doing something you enjoy.” You often requested him to play his cello in times like this, but instead, you offered to play against him. You were not horrible at the game, but he was a god at everything he did. In honesty, you may be an expert player, but challenging him was never a good idea. You had yet to ever request such a thing with him but here you were, doing that exact thing. He stood up immediately from the couch. His confident smirk, placing itself back on his lips. Looking down at you he offered out his hand. Pulling you to your feet as you walked to his chess table.
Sitting across from him, you leaned your head on your hand with a confident smile. His eyes watched you with a brimming curiosity in their violet hues. He understood the position you settled in was mocking his own posture. He tended to rest his chin atop his hands whenever he was getting cocky or had a brilliant idea. This thought made him chuckle; he was not cocky. In his thoughts, that was the attitude a god such as himself ought to have. However, to see you mocking his stance was an amusing sight. There was never a truly dull moment with you in his sight.
Moving both his hands under his chin, he tilted his head ever so slightly. His eyes staring into yours as he smirked. "You think you can win?" he asked with his gaze never faltering or becoming less intense. That gaze alone was enough to cause a slight contraction in your movement. While many would have not seen the alteration of your eyes, the slight dilation, the momentary flex of your back and corner of your mouth, it was all too easy for Fyodor to notice. A contempt, larger smirk spread evenly across his face at the sight. His eyes grew dangerously clouded as he turned the board and provided you with white, the first move. The mock that rested with that action had your blood boiling with annoyance
Rolling your eyes you smiled kindly but held within your tongue a sharp snarl. “We play for a max of 45 then. No longer.” In an attempt to appear threatening, you spoke to him using the Russian you had learned. This seemed to gather his attention rather sharply. He hummed with a nod but did not reply, waiting for you to start the game.
Starting the game by moving a pawn to D5 he snickered watching you. With a lazy gesture, he moved his own pawn to D6. From there the two of you moved your pieces throughout the board. He played recklessly, like a true master, he was fine with sacrificing any piece he saw fit. While you played to counter this way of playing. Avoiding the pawns he wanted to be sacrificed. It took him all of five to work around that counter. The two of you changed the play type every few minutes. With a confident smirk, you played out your final two moves. If he were to place his pieces the way you expected then you would win with 5 minutes left to spare.
It was no shock the clever Russian man had seen this three turns ago. Having made a small counter if you went the way you went. So as that piece moved forward he brought his queen the opposite of what you needed to capture his king and win. Seeing the slight shock among your eyes as you panicked and made a move to counter, induced a soft chuckle. Holding back a sigh as you noted you still had the upper hand, at least that was what he was letting you on to think. As a master in deceiving his opponents and giving them false hope, it was something he rather enjoyed. So with the movement of one piece, he lifted a hand and swiped your king. “Checkmate darling,” he smirked, watching your eyes widen and that confidence from earlier fall. He’d admit it eventually, tell you how you lasted the longest against him than any other had. He may have shed that compliment to you now, but watching the shock settle into an angry pout led him to chuckle. Reaching a hand across the table he placed it against your cheek. Running his thumb close to your lip he watched the shiver run down your spine. The chilly cold of his hands against your warmth was a dark contrast between the two of you. “You’re adorable when you pout.” he hummed leaning in to peck your forehead. He was not one to show so much affection but as you melted within his touch he decided to show you more of his gentle side. “We shall play again, twas not the most interesting, but it was not boring either. You managed to surprise me, little mouse.'' The way he remains collected and his words smooth, yet teasing and threatening, was always a shiver that ran through you.
He released your cheek and stood. His feet carrying him to stand next to where you were seated. With a single fluid tug, you were standing and against his chest as he played with your hair. Looking down at your eyes he noted the tired embers starting to dull. Debating between resting with you tonight, or finishing the work you had pulled him from, inflicted a tender sigh. Lifting you into his arms he carried you off to bed. Lying beside you, he buried his face into your neck. Relaxed within the warmth of the sheets and your body his eyes betrayed him as he fell into sleep with you.
!WARNINGS! None, I guess Fyodor being kinda a yandere..?
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Fyodor hired you to the Rats of the House of the Dead organization because he needed someone to do the small things while he didn't have time. Someone he could trust and someone Fyodor knew wouldn't get attached, so of course he hired you.
The first week working there was fine, and so was the weeks after. Everything was mostly the same except how sometimes Fyodor made you pack up everything to move to a new location. Contrary to his thoughts you could feel, just its hard to express emotions easily, which Fyodor took constant advantage of.
Around six months in he felt off, like waves of guilt and pleasure through him. Fyodor made it a point to talk with you, his hand now resting on your shoulder. Gifts on your desk when you awoke in the morning, little trinkets where the broom was. He was a charming man, mannered and everything anyone would wish for. The job however always came first in your mind so your emotions came last. Not to mention you where aware how manipulative Fyodor is so it was an assumption he did this to his own benefit.
But today was different.
"___, darling? Could we talk?" Fyodor walks over to where you stood, a soft smile on his face.
"Yes, Dostoevsky-sama?" He jesters for you to sit and he settles across.
"Well, you've always been an infinitely crucial asset to me. And I have something to fess up." Fyodor leans forward, fingers crossing. "Could we perhaps be closer as accomplices?" Confusion and bafflement cover your face.
"Hm? What? So like friends?" Fyodor chuckles at your response.
"Oh no, no, something more intimate, dear." The way you cock your head made his heart beat faster, it was so cute.
"Best friends?" A sigh rings out from the man in front of you.
"Your not entirely wrong,"
"Like siblings-" Fyodor's fingers harshly gripped your face tightly and forced you to kiss him. His lips cold and intense before he fully pulls away and wipes his lips with a handkerchief as if nothing happened. "Oh, I-uhm... I see."
"People like us are destined for each other by god, we must have a wedding." Fyodor takes your hand in his, sliding ring on your hand, it was the same one you wished for. How did he know? "And I wont take no for an answer, dear."
