Fyodor One Shots

The Swan [nsfw]

Requested by an anon on Tumblr: "Hi, I saw that you opened requests for nsfw scenaries so I would like to request a nsfw Fyodor x s/o scenary in which his s/o watches him play the cello and tells him that she is getting jealous and that his s/o wants him to play her just like he plays the cello."

I've opened up requests for nsfw scenarios, and this is my first completed request. I have another nsfw request to fill later as well. I should have been completing literally all of my other requests before this one but I got too inspired and wrote most of it in two hours. So here it is.

I watched a few cello performances on youtube and oh boy do cellists really get into what they're playing. A lot of them sway to the music as they play and stuff. Wattpad won't let me post any links, but the movement that Fyodor plays at the beginning is called The Swan, as said in the fic.

Reminder: Critique and tips are always welcome. Especially for this one since it's my first explicit scenario. I might've gotten too philosophical for everyone's taste, but that's just my style I guess. I hope that this provides you with at least some enjoyment.

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Sweet music began to fill the room, cascading down the walls like a waterfall. Your eyes fluttered upward from the book you had been reading. Fyodor's eyes were closed softly in concentration.

You placed your book down to watch. For you, watching him play was always an experience.

Fyodor's fingers glided tirelessly up and down the strings of the cello. He swayed with a gentleness akin to the music, a gentleness that he would never display the likes of otherwise. The Swan; the movement was called.

Three minutes was nothing like an eternity, though it felt close. All the while you watched in a daze. He seemed otherworldly like this, separated from you and the world he loathed enough to want to change.

As Fyodor finished playing the movement, he opened his eyes. Violet irises met your own, they were still filled with the unknown feeling that the piece had brought out in him.

You stood from the couch and applauded him, he bowed slightly and went to place the cello back on it's stand.

"Beautiful, as always." you praised. "I have to admit, I'm a little jealous. It's almost as if you're having an affair with that cello."

"Oh?" drawled Fyodor, almost seductively.

You cleared your throat lightly, "would you, perhaps, play me like you play your cello?"

"The pleasure would be mine." Fyodor replied.

He was close to you in little time, pushing your chin upwards so your lips could meet. Fyodor kissed you with an unusual softness, as if he was still under the influence of the song.

He began nibbling on your lower lip, earning a pleased moan from yourself. Taking the opportunity, Fyodor began ravishing your mouth with his tongue. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged at his hair, as if holding on to him for dear life.

Fyodor pulled away to take a breath, proceeding to whisper into your ear. "You make much prettier sounds than any cello could. I'll have you share them with me."

"Please do," you sighed.

Fyodor tugged you by your wrist to the bedroom. Upon arrival, most of your clothes were practically removed in seconds, leaving you both in your underwear.

You were pushed into the bed, Fyodor kissed you again, this time with his usual roughness.

You had to pull away to gasp when one of his hands found it's way into your panties.

He pressed your clit with one of his fingers. "This is the amount of pressure you put on a string," he murmured, "and this... is how you play a note." Fyodor dragged his finger down your clit and in past your folds, sustaining the same pressure as he began with.

You moaned at the sensation. "Fyodor..." you whispered.

"Now, for vibrato," Fyodor said.

He pressed on your clit once again, rubbing it back and forth at a rapid pace. You screamed at the sudden sensation, throwing your head back in pleasure.

"Do you know what's next?" Fyodor breathed, his previous actions had ended, and his face was now buried in the crook of your neck.

"We make... music." you said, panting lightly.

"Correct." Fyodor replied.

He bit your neck roughly. You cried out, moaning as he sucked on what would be a newly formed bruise.

Fyodor raised his head from your neck, displaying his lust filled eyes. He smiled in the same unusual way he always had, displaying a smirk that was unsettling to most.

He wasted no time removing your underwear, until you were completely bare before each other.

Your clit was throbbing, and you felt yourself desperately longing for release. "P-please... I need you." you whimpered.

Fyodor's smirk grew, and he roughly thrust into you. You gasped, your back arching off the bed.

Fyodor sped up quickly, his roughness increasing as a result. You screamed in pleasure once again, wrapping your arms around him and digging your nails into his back.

He blew into your ear, "moan for me." he said.

So you did, though you probably couldn't have stopped yourself otherwise. You stuttered out his name and small praises between moans. You felt as if your body was on fire, the white heat of pleasure coursing through your veins.

To you, it was almost as if he took something from you each time you made love. This something could not be described, but perhaps it was an exchange. Perhaps you took that something from him too.

Logical thought, sense of self, perception of environment: all are dampened by this act. Could one be considered fully conscious?

Your nails drew deep red lines in his back, he growled. The scene before you was a blur, his strange grin pervaded your vision. You could not tell if it was truly in front of you, or if it was a projection of your own subconscious thought.

"I-I love you..." you moaned. You were both panting heavily now, you could feel Fyodor's breath on your neck.

He hit just the right spot and you cried out, shaking as you reached your peak. Fyodor groaned into your neck as he finished, still thrusting to ride out the orgasm.

Things eventually calmed down, Fyodor sliding out of you and lying down beside you.

"If you were an animal other than a human, you would be a swan." Fyodor spoke softly.

"And why is that?" you asked him.

"Swans are graceful, and yet somehow sorrowful creatures." Fyodor replied, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stared up at the ceiling, a light flickering in the corner of your eye. You responded with a simple "Ah," as you could find nothing else to say.