#felt like the -o ending probably wasn't feminine and i was right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

literatureloverx · 2 months

Note

You seem to have such a good grasp of Fyodors character!!! So in my head sex isn't something that's high up on his list of interests....plus there's the whole religion thing so it would probably be after marriage. But.... if it was someone who he was in love with and had a connection with (in his own strange likely yandere way). Headcanons for their first time with him? Assuming they are a virgin? Pleaaase

THE FIRST NIGHT

F Y O D O R D O S T O E V S K Y

Note: Thank you so much, my dear! This is such a huge compliment, I’m truly grateful. Also, I’m very happy to receive requests now. ❤️ I absolutely agree with you!

I decided to split this one into headcanons and a full scene, all of it under the cut. ❤️

Now, I highly recommend all to read Fyodor’s ideal type and mild NSFW headcanons first to gather a better foundation of understanding for this post.

Make yourself comfortable, because it is SO LONG. Not proof-read.

Mdni, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!fyodor, NSFW, Yandere!Fyodor, misogyny(?), manipulation, unhealthy behaviour etc.

Headcanons

"I have studied the human body and refreshed my knowledge about a woman's first sexual intercourse and its complications. I will minimize any discomfort for you as much as possible, моя любовь. (my love)." - Fyodor, probably.

I have considered various possibilities here.

Would Fyodor restrict your sight or movement on your first night together?

Initially, I thought he might, given his discomfort with his own vulnerability.

I imagined he would start with gentle bondage, gradually trusting you and himself, moving to intimate, vanilla sex, and then incorporating more BDSM elements once he truly felt comfortable. This progression would stem from a place of trust rather than insecurity.

However, I realized I was probably very, very wrong. Here's why:

Assuming you are the woman of his dreams -dreams he wasn't even aware of- and perfect for him in every imaginable way, it still wouldn't be enough for him to just marry you. For Fyodor to truly want you and marry you, your bond would need to be at a soulmate level, characterized by intimate, romantic, and immortal love.

Fyodor likely has a soft spot for genuineness, given his manipulative ways of achieving his goals. Genuine feelings must seem almost utopian to him.

Because emotions and feelings can grow twisted and are a great aspect as a means to an end. But now, this genuineness towards him, his true self?

That is new. That is unexpected and infectious, almost infuriating because he doesn't want to control it. He can, but he doesn't want to.

He secretly derives pleasure from your love and adoration, which has grown unexpectedly naturally.

Once he has this with you, he will want you by his side forever, in the form of a sacred marriage, as intended by God. He will desire a life of peace and harmony with you, crowned with love.

What I'm trying to say is that with someone like you, all his defenses would eventually crumble anyway. Initially, he would be flabbergasted.

Fyodor is a man of God, a man of religion, and a man of class.

Now, here he is, married to you. Craving you. Wanting you more than anything he's ever wanted. So desperately, violently, and deeply.

You look so beautiful, worthy of being captured in a high-class painting.

He will never forget how you look right now—his bride, his woman.

Though he wouldn't like to admit it, he feels nervous, a rarity for him. When was the last time he felt nervous? It must have been a very long time ago, if ever.

He cups your flushed cheeks and kisses your forehead.

He would ask you to keep your wedding dress on, not changing into anything else, because he wants to undress you himself.

He would be gentle with you, touching and caressing you as if you're made of glass.

From here on, enjoy the scene I wrote for you:

Scene

You blush softly, nervously gripping your feminine, lace wedding dress. Your soft, flowy hair falls into your face as you look up adoringly at the man you married just this evening.

It is your wedding night, and you are more than nervous to fulfill the marital act.

"Welcome back, my love. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Fyodor lets his sharp, attentive gaze roam over your delicate frame, studying every little detail about you. He excused himself for a moment to give you some time alone, knowing how nervous you are.

Even though some alcohol might help you relax, he doesn't want you to be in a hazy or mindless state as he takes you for the first time. He values the specialty of your first night, very deeply.

The subtle blush on your cheeks brings a small, barely noticeable smirk to Fyodor's lips. He slowly walks up to you, a pale, slim-fingered hand gently gripping your chin, tilting your head up slightly so that you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

"I did."

His gaze softly trails down your figure.

"I see you are ready for me, my dear. How delightful."

You make a great effort not to stutter.

Normally, you are so comfortable around him. He gives you all the strength you so dearly love about him.

You are like two swans, dancing and swimming around each other, never able to split from each other mentally. Just like them, you are bound to each other, for as long as you will live. There are only two. Never one less, never one more.

You stutter anyway, barely visible but clear as day to the man who loves you with all his cold heart.

Cold? No, not to you. After all, you're the only one who can pull on his heartstrings in such a carefree, natural manner, which even surprises him.

"Since you told me not to take off my wedding dress... I didn't..."

A dark eyebrow quirks up, and it's obvious he's amused. The smirk on his lips turns into a wicked smile as he moves to stand close in front of you, his slender figure now towering over your smaller one.

With his hand still holding your chin, he gently runs his thumb over your lower lip.

"You did well, my dear. I'm pleased."

You blush at his praise, an innocent smile forming on your lips. Your hand gently touches his in return.

Noticing the pure and vulnerable reaction on your part, Fyodor's smile broadens just the slightest bit. A hint of something dark, clashing with something much deeper and loving, flashes in his eyes as he shifts closer, his hand on your chin moving to cradle your jaw now.

"Are you ready, my dear? For what is about to come?"

You nod softly.

"I am, my love. I'll do anything for you."

As if by their own accord, his slender fingers move to toy with a strand of your hair, and his intense eyes study you, clearly in thought. You can't read them, but you know that they are filled with you. His next words come out as a smooth murmur, resonating with something mildly possessive.

"It is such a novel phenomenon. To crave someone's body and soul, with such deepness."

Your eyes widen. It is unlikely for Fyodor to be rather direct in his own vulnerability, but it is fairly likely for him to be direct about judgmental aspects of things. It makes your heart sing, your body tremble. Oh, how fulfilling and soulful it is, being loved by such a man as your Fyodor.

He is the most vulnerable you've ever seen him before. Much more so than when he kissed you for the first time or held your hand. He is not someone who declares his possessiveness with physical affection but rather with subliminal gestures.

You gently place a kiss on his cheek, feeling like you have to do something in return for his heartfelt words.

Fyodor's smirk softens just the slightest bit at the feeling of your warm lips on his cheek, and he once more moves closer, now trapping your body against his.

He grips your chin again, tilting your head up and exposing your neck to him, which he then proceeds to litter with tender kisses, his words a mere whisper against your skin.

"We are bound together for all of eternity... You are mine now, моя любовь... only I get to have you like this, you understand?"

It is a fuzzy feeling, hazing your mind.

He knows exactly how to woo you, of course.

"I will love you, for all eternity."

You reply with a gentle voice, your eyes fixed on his, your lips trembling slightly as you breathe softly. His kisses make your head spin.

Feeling you respond to his touch is like a drug to him, a small sound of satisfaction leaving his lips when your eyes meet his, and the way your breath quickens has him wanting to hear more of your reactions. He slowly pushes a leg between yours to keep you in place.

"That's it, sweetheart... you look so pretty like this. So incredibly beautiful, all mine for the taking."

That is so unusual for him to talk this way. But it makes sense to you once you think about how well he knows you. What he needs to say to push your buttons and make you feel utterly comfortable about yourself and your relationship with him.

You grip your wedding dress with an innocent expression, your palms sweating with nervousness, unsure when he will take your dress off. Will he like what he sees? You hope so.

Seeing your nervousness and the slight tremble in your body, a wicked smile settles on Fyodor's lips. He lets out a low hum, almost as if amused by the effect he has on you.

"You're nervous, aren't you, my sweet?

There's no need to be, my dear. I'll be gentle with you, I assure you."

His voice drops to a deep murmur as he runs his hand over your shoulder, fingers teasing the fabric of your dress.

"I have studied the human body thoroughly and refreshed my knowledge about a woman's first sexual intercourse and its complications. I will minimize any discomfort for you as much as possible, моя любовь."

You nod gently, waiting patiently for him to undress you.

He looks down at you, a pleased hum leaving his lips.

You are so obedient, and your behavior, your innocence, is a sweet addition. He opens the zipper of your wedding dress gently, with a deep, dark gaze burning in his eyes, brighter and brighter with each passing second.

The candlelight flickers, casting a soft glow on his face, transcending you into a warm, fuzzy state. You didn't notice when and how he freed you from your dress, but it is as if you wake up as your beautiful dress hits the ground with a soft sound, adding to the already unbearable tension dominating your shared bedchamber.

His own clothes are far more complicated to discard than yours, and he moves to start the process of removing them, his eyes meeting yours again.

You gaze at him as he undresses, hypnotized by the sight.

He slowly proceeds to shed his clothes, his movements elegant and composed.

The suit comes off first, then the shirt, leaving his upper body exposed.

There are muscles and smooth skin, but something else catches your attention

—the way the cross around his neck hangs from its silver chain, right above his chest.

"Come here, sweetheart."

You take his hand gently. You look like a doll, he thinks to himself. You look at him naively, like a fragile doll. The thought ignites a certain possessiveness inside his very soul, his heartstrings being pulled a little too tightly for his liking otherwise. This time, he is comfortable with it.

It is such a weird pleasure to feel for you, being almost completely naked before the eyes of the man you love and feeling almost no shame at all, contrary to what you expected. All the worry you felt perished like some meaningless fume.

He takes your hand, and a small smile stretches his lips.

His other hand grips your chin softly as he studies you once more up close, his intense eyes roaming over your face, every little detail of your expression. His thumb slowly caresses the soft skin of your lower lip again, feeling the delicate flesh.

His cold touch feels warm, igniting your heart with fire. Can he hear your heartbeat? He probably can. It is so loud you can barely hear your own breathing.

"Lay down on the bed, my dear."

You obey immediately, laying down with a slightly trembling, fragile state and flushed cheeks. Your eyes ask: Like this, my love? He can almost hear it in his mind.

His dark eyes roam over the sight of you lying on the bed, your slender and delicate yet pale form standing out against the white bedsheets. The contrast is truly fascinating, and his own body is all too pleased with the view.

"Exactly, sweetheart. Just like that."

He slowly approaches the bed, his smooth movements only comparable to those of a panther as he looms over you, one knee on the bed next to you.

You gulp as his intense gaze falls upon your vulnerable body. You feel nervous as your eyes lay on the poking length against the cloth of his underwear. You are mesmerized by his handsomeness, your eyes droopy and hazy. How could someone be this... divine? An immortal beauty, an even more remarkable handsomeness. It feels like a wish come true, being able to call this man your husband. Finally.

He notices the way you look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, the nervousness clearly visible in your expression.

It's almost too tempting, how innocent you look. He slowly moves to straddle you, his hands now on either side of your head, boxing you in. Leaning forward, he looks down at you, almost as if he is studying some kind of art piece with a sharp eye. His voice comes out as a deep murmur, heavy with desire.

"There's no need to be nervous, my darling. It won't hurt as much as you think it will."

His soft voice and thick Russian accent are more than enough to ease your physical pain, even if it will hurt much more than you believe. You think to yourself that you indeed want this to be a remarkable experience for both of you, but what outweighs it all for you is being able to satisfy him in every sense possible. Because you love him so, so much.

"I know, my love. I trust you."

You say with a sweet voice as he hovers over you.

The small smile on his lips from earlier returns again, and he gently runs his hand over your cheek in an affectionate manner.

"Good girl."

He slowly leans down, his body gently resting on yours as he lays on top of you. His nose now nuzzles against the crook of your neck, and he proceeds to lay gentle kisses all over it.

"Your trust in me is as admirable as it is delightful."

As Fyodor hovers over you, his touch gentle yet possessive, he feels a shift within himself. It is as though the layers of his carefully guarded demeanor are slowly peeling away, revealing a vulnerability he rarely shows. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, each caress igniting a fire within him and stirring emotions he had long kept buried.

He senses your response to his touch, your breath quickening, and he savors the power he holds over you-not in dominance, but in the depth of your connection. His eyes, dark and intense, study your every reaction as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

His voice, usually composed, now carries a hint of raw desire and tenderness.

Leaning in to kiss your neck, his lips against your skin send shivers down your spine. The sensation is both electrifying and comforting, making you melt into him even more.

He whispers endearments in his native language, promises that fill the air and wrap around both of you like a warm embrace.

He realizes how much he trusts you with his vulnerabilities, how much he craves this connection just as you do. His touch is a revelation, showing him a side of himself he hadn't fully understood before-a man who seeks solace and fulfillment in your intimacy, who finds strength in your shared vulnerability.

As you lay together, hearts beating in sync, he knows that the bond you are forging is unlike anything either of you had experienced. It is a love that transcends words, a love that embraces your flaws and insecurities, making you stronger together than you could ever be apart.

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, each caress igniting a fire within him and stirring emotions he had long kept buried.

You mewl softly at each kiss, your warm body pressed flush against his. You move your arms shyly, wrapping them around his waist, your fingers gently caressing his back as he continues to kiss your neck, breathing your scent in as you breathe in his, a soft hum leaving your lips.

He hums back into the crook of your neck, the sound almost akin to a pleased growl. Presenting his emotions with such an intimate voice was indeed intoxicating and fulfilling for him.

Your touches, your soft gasps, and sounds of pleasure make him want your first time to be as good as possible. So he focuses on being gentle with you, on restraining himself.

"Mhh~" you mewl again, caressing his skin softly as you relax against his body slightly, melting into his kisses.

His body is hot against yours, his muscles taut against your delicate frame as he starts to kiss your collarbone, now leaving a trail of kisses down to your shoulder, leaving a couple on your skin as he murmurs against you. He loves the sounds you make in response to his touches, and the way you caress his skin has him wanting to hear more of your sweet voice.

"My good girl..."

A soft, gentle hum as response.

"Sweetheart... you're doing very well."

He was so uncharacteristically chatty. Of course, he knew exactly how to reassure you, to make you feel comfortable. You smile with delight, happy as you think that he is happy with your demeanor. You shyly place a kiss on his neck, trying to please him more.

He feels his body shiver slightly at the feeling of your soft lips on his neck, and he rewards you with a hum that is close to a purr against your skin. His one hand moves from next to your head to gently run his fingers through your soft hair, his body relaxing against yours.

"My wife."

You gently brush your lips against his, submissively asking to be kissed.

"My husband.."

He pulls back to look down at you, something akin to amusement dancing across his face for a short moment, but soon enough it's replaced with a fond smile when he sees your gentle demand. Oh, demanding something from him? Only a few would be stupid enough to demand anything from him. You were the singular exception.

The only person in the whole wide world whom he wanted to fulfill their demands.

Loving someone so deeply was intoxicatingly humbling, to say the least.

A hand of his cups your soft cheek again as he leans down to close the distance. His lips capture yours in a gentle kiss, pressing against your soft lips and molding them to fit his.

You mewl softly again, kissing him back as skillfully as possible, still struggling a little to keep up with his movements.

You never kissed anyone before your now rightful husband. It was so easy for Fyodor to know how to move even though he lacked experience as well.

He was so quick to grasp and learn, which you were, naturally, not. You couldn't compete with him in that sense, and you were accepting it the way it is. You were accepting him.

Your kisses before were so innocent in comparison to this all-consuming passion. He slowly pushes further into the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of your parted lips. He has already figured out the fact that you have never kissed anyone before him, and he feels his desire for you grow stronger. Your innocence, your naivety, it's delightful.

The thought that he's the first one to do this to you, to kiss you, to make you moan under him... it all has him wanting to claim and mark you as his own. His inner possessiveness shines through his cold and calculating persona, proving to him that he is human, with valid impulses and desires, after all.

It was laughable how he now indeed is in the same position as any other human being he would've stamped as exhibiting "petty" behavior.

This must be what God intended between a man and a woman.

Oh, you were trying to imitate his movements. You were trying your best to please him. How delightful. How adorable. How, so very his.

A pleased sound leaves him as he feels you respond similarly to his tongue, your attempts to imitate him making him almost shiver with desire. He slowly rolls his hips against you, his body grinding against yours as his hand on your cheek moves to your jaw, gently gripping it as he deepens the kiss.

You breathe shakily as he rolls his hips against you, feeling a hardness between your legs for the first time. You mewl uncontrollably, blushing in the process.

He is holding himself together just enough to remain gentle. It wasn't as easy as he expected it to be. His tongue now slowly starts to explore the inside of your mouth, tasting you. Even so, he can't quite hold back the slight growl that vibrates in his throat when you mewl against his lips, the sound coming out almost embarrassingly primal.

Your fingers continue to caress his back as he kisses you, your shaking legs opening wider as he presses his hips against you. You spread them even more, trying to grant him wider access.

A shudder of desire goes through him as you open your legs wider, a hint of surprise in his expression as he feels you do so. He hums into the kiss in approval, his own hardness pressing against you through his underwear.

For a moment, he pulls back and looks down at you, his gaze burning, intense.

He's trying hard to keep control, but the way you're submitting to him, the way you're opening for him, it's driving him insane in a strangely positive way.

Mhh~

You can feel a warm feeling building up between your legs, which is unfamiliar to you. You feel warm and desperate.

"F-Fyodor？~"

The sound of your voice, the desperate and needy edge to it, almost snaps the last bit of restraint he has left. His name, said in that voice, makes him want to devour you, to make you his completely. His eyes roam across your face, the innocent, yet needy expression you're making, before looking at the way your legs are opening wider for him as he's positioned between them.

"Mhmm, yes, sweetheart?..."

"I-just..."

You say shyly, gazing at him as he plays with the hem of your underwear, about to take it off your body.

"Say it."

"I feel unusual..."

He hums, his fingers toying with the edge of your panties, the soft, white fabric a bare contrast against your fragile body. His gaze never leaves yours as he slowly leans down to kiss your jaw, and then your neck.

"Unusual, you say?... Where do you feel this feeling?"

You knew that he knew. He wanted what he always wanted, in any other case too. To overpower you, dominate you, in his own weird, affectionate way you oh-so-dearly adored. The feeling that always made you feel safe with him. You gulp, trying to play the embarrassment off, sharing your feelings as you do always, genuinely with him.

"D-down there..."

His lips move to your earlobe, and he gives your ear a playful nip, before he murmurs against it, his voice rough against your skin.

"Would you like me to touch you down there, sweetheart?"

A soft moan leaves your lips for the first time at the way he's talking so openly, so gently to you. Your cheeks are flushed and your breath heavy.

"Y-yes...my love...please."

His lips curve into a tiny smile against your ear at your small moan, and your answer pleases him. His fingers now grab onto your panties, slowly pulling them down, leaving your sensitive and already dripping flesh exposed to his eyes. His hand slowly caresses up your thigh, his touch gentle, yet dominant as his fingers slowly make their way up to the soft flesh between your legs.

"Good girl... tell me, have you ever touched yourself down here before?"

"N-no..."

There it was again. The mental control he's pulling you under. The pleasure of knowing that he is the only one, the first, and the last, makes him derive pleasure simply by thinking about this fact.

His breath hitches, and a shiver runs through his body as he registers that you're completely untouched, unspoiled, that he's the first and only one to touch you like this. A possessive thrill, a certain kind of primal instinct, flows through his body at the thought, and he can't help the smile that forms across his lips, his face still next to your ear.

"What a perfect woman... you're doing so well, моя мышь..."

His fingers slowly reach their destination, gently caressing your folds, which he can definitely feel are already slick and oh so sensitive. It should’ve been an unusual feeling for him, but touching you so intimately only feels right to him. His wife.

"Mhhh~!"

You let out a soft moan, pushing your head back against the pillow, your eyes half-lidded and hazy.

"Such beautiful sounds you make for me, sweetheart..."

His fingers continue their gentle caresses, his gaze taking in the sight of you writhing underneath him, the way you're already so eager for more, and it's driving him crazy. Soon enough, a single finger of his slowly teases your entrance, the tip just gently pressing against it, testing the waters so to speak. Your mouth falls open, your eyes closing in pure pleasure.

His eyes don't miss a single detail of your reactions. Every shiver, every gasp, every moan and mewl you make in response to his touches has him wanting to see more, to hear more, to drive you absolutely wild. His finger slowly starts to slide inside you, gently, carefully, testing the waters as his lips now move to your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

"Aghh!~"

You moan loudly as even his fingertip makes it feel very stretching.

"Mmm-my... so tight."

He murmurs against the crook of your neck, where he's now resting his head and gently nipping the soft skin, his finger slowly inching deeper into you.

His own breathing is heavy now against your skin, his lips letting out small, ragged breaths as he listens to your sweet reactions, the way you clench around his digit.

"Tell me...who do you belong to?"

You moan loudly, your fingers dipping against his back gently, scratching a deep stripe down his back.

"You…..F-Fyodor—ahhh!~"

His eyes almost roll back at the feeling of your fingers grasping his back, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him, especially with the way you moan his name, making his breath stutter slightly. It feels like the sweetest sin, this, his beautiful, perfect lover arching against his body, and it's driving him wild with desire. Your tight warmth has him wanting more, and his finger slowly continues to move inside you.

"You're so good for me, sweetheart... so perfect for me..."

It is an uncomfortable stretch for you, making your eyes sting with tears a little as you look at him innocently, mewling softly as he works it open.

"Mhmm, shh... sweetheart... don't look at me like that. I might devour you just fully."

He murmurs against the crook of your neck, his voice a little shaky as his finger is engulfed in your tight warmth.

He can see the tears in your eyes, he can feel how your body tenses a little from the painful stretch, and his free hand gently cups your flushed cheek.

"Relax for me, darling... it will feel better in just a moment..."

"It already feels-ah~"

He hums against your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin and then soothing it with his tongue, as he keeps his finger still inside you. He takes in the way you cling to him, your body so sweet and sensitive against his one, and it makes him feel feral almost. He slowly starts to move his finger again, gently, carefully, trying to work your body open for him.

"That's it... good girl.."

You can feel your body adjusting to this new digit, making you feel the sensations you are receiving all the better.

You moan and mewl softly, your hips gently moving along with his finger.

"Mhhh~ ahh~"

He lets out a soft hiss against your neck at the sight of your hips subconsciously moving, trying to get more of his finger.

He's trying hard to keep control, but it's very hard when you're being so sweet and responsive for him.

"Mhm... look at you, moving with me like that... you're so perfect for me."

He pushes his finger in deeper, watching your face intently as he does.

Your mouth falls open, a deep moan escaping your throat.

The sound of your moan has his body shuddering against yours, his breathing ragged now as he continues to watch the expression on your face.

He can feel how tight and wet you're getting, slowly trying to take his finger deeper, and he rewards you by gently crooking it inside you, wanting to see the way you react to that.

"Such beautiful sounds, my sweet girl...you're so good for me..."

Your eyes roll back slightly, moaning out his name with a sweet tremble in your voice.

The way you moan his name, the way your voice trembles as he crooks his finger inside you, it makes a shiver of desire run down his spine. He can feel how wet and warm you're getting, how your body keeps trying to draw his finger in, and it feels maddening, like the sweetest sin.

"Mhmm, that's it sweetheart... call out my name, say it again."

"Mhh~ Fyodor!~"

You moan out his name, now completely relaxing with the new adjustment.

He almost lets out a feral sound at the sound of his name on your lips, the way you moan it, so sweet and so, so perfect. He can hear how much more relaxed you are now, your body adjusting to the feeling of his finger inside of you. He wants to see more, to hear more, to hear you moan his name more, so the pace of his finger picks up, now slightly pumping inside you, pressing in deep as he crooks it against your walls.

"Mhmm~... say it again. Say my name again for me."

"AGH!~ F-FYODOR—-mhhhhhhhh~"

His eyes go dark with desire at the sound of his name from your lips again, your sweet voice, the way you moan so beautifully with only one of his fingers inside you. It's absolutely maddening, and he never knew he could lose it so easily over something like the sound of his own name.

"Mhmm, that's my darling... good girl."

He keeps going, the pace of his finger picking up a little more now. He's so close to losing control, but he's resisting, trying to savor the moment of your sweet submission.

Your legs are starting to tremble slightly, your hips rolling against his finger instinctively, moaning out his name.

"Fyodor...mhhh~ Fyodor~"

Your legs shaking, your soft hips moving against his finger, the moans of his name... the way you're falling apart for him so prettily, it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and it has him nearly losing it. He shushes you gently, trying to soothe you, to guide you into letting go for him.

"Yes... just like that, darling... just let go, give yourself to me completely..."

You can feel that tight knot building up inside of you, almost overwhelming your senses. The knot inside your belly feels like it's going to snap soon.

"F-Fyodor...I-I feel like something is—"

He shushes you gently, his breath hot against your ear as his finger keeps moving inside you, relentless yet so tender.

"Shh... it's okay, my love... just let it happen. Let yourself feel everything, let go for me..."

He can tell you're close, that tight knot inside you building up, and he knows you're about to reach your peak, and it's driving him wild.

His free hand caresses your cheek, his lips gently kissing your temple as his finger keeps moving inside you, wanting to draw every bit of pleasure out of you.

"It's okay, let go, моя мышь...“

His words make you snap like a thin rubber band, your body tightening around his finger as you feel your release take over your body. Moaning and shaking, your whole body reacts to the intense pleasure he's giving you.

The way your body clenches around his finger, the way you moan and shake, it's more than he ever expected, and it drives him wild. He continues to move his finger inside you, working you through your orgasm, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he murmurs sweet, encouraging words to you, soothing you through your high.

"Mhm... yes, that's it... good girl...you're so beautiful.”

He's relishing in the sight of your body trembling with pleasure, your release coating his finger, the way you look so lost in ecstasy, all because of him. His heart swells with possessive pride and affection for you, and he knows that this is only the beginning, that he wants to see you like this again and again.

"Such a good girl for me... so perfect.."

As you come down from your high, his finger slowly stills inside you, and he gently pulls it out, his gaze softening as he looks at your flushed, beautiful face. He brings his finger to his lips, tasting your essence with a hum of satisfaction, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Mmm... you taste so sweet, моя мышь..."

You feel absolutely exhausted yet so satisfied. His finger sliding out of you feels like a void being left behind. You softly smile at him, your eyes half-lidded and tired.

He looks down at you, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of your tired yet satisfied smile. However, the feeling is overwhelming for him too. He needs you, more than you can imagine. He gently kisses your forehead, his hand caressing your cheek tenderly.

You know it is time. He lifts himself up slightly, checking to ensure you are comfortable. Then, finally, he gently pushes in.

"Mhhh~!~"

He groans, his body starting to betray the composure he held onto. It was so much harder than his calculation. It was truly humbling, even for him.

"Love... relax for me..."

His voice is filled with frustration, thick and breathy.

"Mhhhhh~!~"

Your eyes widen slightly as the feeling is far more intense than the feeling of his fingers, making you let out a faint scream-moan.

He can't help letting out a little hiss at the delicious sound you make as he gently pushes himself into you, slowly, inch by inch, trying to keep himself under control and not hurt you.

"Mhm... shh... shh... you're doing so well, darling..."

The feeling of your body clenching around him has him gritting his teeth, his breathing ragged in an effort to not lose control completely. You push your forehead into the crook of his neck, your hands on his back as he pushes in, making you moan deeply.

He lets you push your head against his neck, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe as he gently continues to push into you, slowly and carefully, making sure he's not hurting you. Your hands on his back, your sweet, deep moans in his ear, everything about you is perfect, and it's driving him absolutely crazy with desire, but he keeps it together, barely.

"Mhm... you're taking me so well, my sweet darling~..."

The stretch is a mix of pain and pleasure for you, confusing your mind.

The intense connection between you two feels like it's changing something fundamental within you, a mix of vulnerability and deep affection that's overwhelming.

"Aghhh~ mhhh~F-Fyodor-I-it's too m-much..."

A low growl escapes him at your intoxicating, desperate, and sweet words.

The way you're being so inexperienced and sweet for him fills his heart with pride, as petty as that might be. It takes all of his willpower not to lose control right there and then. He slowly pulls back and presses in again, trying to give your body the time to adjust.

"Mhmm... shh... it's because you're a good, pure girl, darling... I know you can take it... you're being such a good girl, taking me so deep already..."

Your eyes roll back, your head falling onto the pillow as he pushes in deeper.

The sight of you being so sweet and overwhelmed, your head falling back onto the pillow as he gently pushes in deeper, has something inside him snap.

He gently growls against your neck, his hands pinning your hips down on the bed.

"Mmmm... such a beautiful, sweet girl... look at you... do you like how I feel inside you, darling? Is it too much for your pure, innocent body?~

Questions he knew the answers to. Oh, it was so arousing. The pulsating feeling of him made your head spin. His words were laced with a possessiveness that both thrilled and scared you. It was as if he wanted to own every part of you, and every fibre of your being wanted that too.

"Mhh~ y-yes...my love, yes~!"

The way you moan that way, the way you call him "my love" in your sweet voice, drives him absolutely mad.

He slowly starts rocking his hips against yours, trying to keep a gentle and steady pace, his voice ragged as he whispers praises in your ear.

Your moans, your voice calling out his name, your body clinging to his— it all makes him feel primal, the need to claim you overwhelming. But he's gentle, maintaining his control as always, his breath ragged as he keeps whispering against your ear:

"Mhmm... that's it, sweetheart... does it feel good, darling? Mhmmm... say my name again, sweet girl..."

"Fyodor-it feels...mhhh~ s-so good..~"

You say with a fragile voice. A low, guttural, possessive growl escapes his lips at that, the sound being both gentle and primal at the same time. He needs to hear you say his name, over and over again, to know that you're his and his alone.

"Mhmmm... that's it, sweetheart... good girl... so good for me... say it again, darling... keep saying my name..."

"Fyodor~ Fyodor~ ahhh~ mhh~Fyodor~"

You moan softly with each thrust, your eyes closing and opening halfway.

Something possessive flares up in him at the way you moan his name, again and again, saying it over and over. He slowly starts to increase the pace of his thrusting, his breath ragged against your skin as his hands gently pin your hips down on the bed.

"Mmm... say it again, darling... who do you belong to? Say it... who's the only one you belong to...?"

"Fyodor..~ you, my love~ mhhh~"

You place your trembling legs upon his thighs, under his buttocks as he rolls his hips and thrusts.

He can't control the hiss that escapes him as you answer him, telling him that you're only his, that you belong to him, and it drives him absolutely insane, something inside him that he tried to keep at bay flaring up completely. His hips snap against yours in a slightly rougher manner as he lets out a low growl against your neck.

You moan loudly, a wet popping sound echoing through your shared bedchamber.

The sound of your moan, you saying his name, the way you’re so submissive and letting him take control so easily—it's driving him absolutely insane, and he's no longer trying to hold back. Never in his seemingly endless life did he expect to lose control this easily.

"Mhmmm~..."

He hisses softly as he picks up the pace a bit, his body gently shuddering against yours, his breathing ragged.

He growls again at the way you moan, a slightly wilder look in his eyes as you cry out like that. His pace picks up more, gently and slowly taking you deeper and deeper, his hands gently holding your hips as he continues to thrust.

"Mhm... yes, that's it... just relax for me, sweet girl... I know you can take it... you're doing so well for me.."

"F-Fyodor, I feel so-mhhhh~ ahhhh~"

He hears the change in your voice, the way it's getting higher pitched, sensing you’re nearing your own climax, which makes him even more excited.

"Mhmmm... you are close, right, sweetheart...? Mhmm... let me hear your pretty voice..."

He leans over her, gently pinning her down as his thrusts become faster and deeper.

"Y-yes!~"

Your mouth falls open.

"Aghhh~F-Fyodor-AGH! Mhhhhh~"

He looks down at you, absorbing every sound you make, watching your overwhelmed expression and those innocent eyes. It takes everything in him not to lose himself completely, his breathing ragged as he gazes down at you.

Your body arches against him, head falling back, presenting your neck to him as you whine.

"Mmmmh... yes, that's it, sweetheart... don't hold back..."

He growls at the sight of her arching against him, your head falling back, the primal, possessive side of him barely restrained. He gently bends down, lips finding the pale skin of your neck, biting and sucking.

"Mhmmm... yes, my sweet girl, just like that..."

"Agghhhh~ my~-ahhh~~"

He can't hold back any longer, you arching against him, your moans and calls driving him wild. His body shudders, last restraints snapping, breathing ragged, hips moving faster.

"Mmm... just let go... be a good girl, sweetheart... do what your body tells you to do..."

You are releasing tension with loud, desperate moans, a soft cry of pleasure, body shaking dramatically under him, moaning out his name.

Your release, sweet moans, body shuddering wildly under him, drive him over the edge. He growls against your neck, hips rolling, snapping in a fast, desperate pace, body trembling, pleasure coursing through him as you call out. His own release washes over him violently, making his own body shudder and tremble with the aftershocks of his release.

"Mfff- mhhhh... good girl... such... a good girl..."

He shivers, voice ragged, trying to slow down after release, body pressed against yours, warm and satisfied, nuzzling your neck, possessive growl escaping.

"Mhmmm... my love... you did so well..."

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his skin.

His heart aches at your sweet, desperate hold, your face in his neck, his arms gently wrapped around you, body shivering, nuzzling you. It is a perfect moment.

"I will have Ivan run us a bath in a moment."

You chuckle absentmindedly, head still fuzzy from the mind-blowing pleasure you just experienced, eliciting a soft smile from your beloved husband. It's a genuine, lazy, loving smile-one that you, and only you, rarely get to see.

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