#demon!fyodor

They haunt you every night and day. The dreams were always foggy. The sensation of someone, or something, feasting on your cunt as you lay there unconscious, moaning softly. Your mind only processed pleasure and you would always wake up soaked in your own arousal, breathless from your orgasm. It made you feel disgusting and miserable. However... Each night you laid in your bed, you couldn’t help but wait impatiently for those dreams.

The guilt of your actions and thoughts eventually led you to seek out help from one of the priests. It was late at night, and all of the other nuns had returned to their rooms to sleep, but you needed to repent. You quickly stepped into the confessional booth and you were relieved when you saw the silhouette of the priest on the other side. You kneeled and crossed yourself.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last confession, and I accuse myself of the following sins,” You took a sharp breath before speaking up, “I’ve been having lustful thoughts and dreams, Father, and I’ve done nothing to try and stop it. I've... I’ve even pleasured myself to the thoughts.” 

The priest stayed quiet for a few seconds before he spoke, his Russian accent sounding strangely familiar but also foreign, “How long has this been going on for…?”

“About two weeks, Father… This is my first time telling anyone.”

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t seek help because, ultimately, I think a part of me enjoys it… I can’t even focus on my duties without thinking about those dreams-”

The sound of the priest’s cold chuckle made a chill run down your spine. “You really can’t get me out of your head? How cute.”

His tone was condescending and you finally made eye contact with his piercing purple eyes. You didn’t even have the time to question how the man appeared next to you so quickly before he pinned you to the wall of the booth.

You yelped, shock written over your expression now that you could see him clearly. The man had long black hair, topped with curled horns. His vibrant eyes glared at you and his lips pulled into a smirk sensing your fear. His pale hands touched your cheek, his sharp nails grazing it slightly. 

“What are you?” you asked with a shaky voice but you had a pretty good idea of who he might be.

“I don’t think I told you you could speak, Y/N," he growled. His frigid fingers trailed down to your throat and he wrapped them around it. He slowly began to tighten his grip, causing you to gasp for breaths.

Your fingers desperately grasped his thin wrist as you struggled to get oxygen into your lungs. Fyodor dug his claws into your throat, a few small red droplets escaping from the small cuts, "I've been studying you for about a year now..."

The demon loosened his grip, his nails softly grazing their way down to your collar, tugging on your nightgown. You screw your eyes shut in a panic, grasping at your silver rosary, "Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium-"

"That won't work, добыча," his sharp purple gaze analyzed your body language before ripping the silver crucifix from your hands, the beads falling to the ground as the string snapped.

You felt your eyes tearing up, panic setting in as you attempted to move away from the devil in front of you, "Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur-"

Unfortunately for you, the confession booths were only so big. Your back hit the wooden wall and you cried out for your God.

"My curiosity eventually got the best of me a few weeks ago and I decided to try an experiment. You see, I have identified you as the most dedicated little lamb and I began to wonder: 'How quickly can I corrupt one of Бог's faithful little play thing?'"

You didn't stop reciting your prayer to Saint Michael, tears streaming down your face. You heard the demon shuffling and your eyes snapped open in a frenzy. Nothing could've prepared you for the sight of Fyodor on his knees before you.

"It took me a long time to finally decide what approach to take when it comes to tempting you," his accent grew thicker as he took your ankle in his hands, "One of my top contenders was driving you to gut all of your sisters at the abbey."

"God won't allow it-," your chest tightened with uneasiness and you began struggling against his grasp. This was obviously the wrong choice and the dark haired monster simply pulled your leg closer to him, causing you to slide down the wall slightly.

He then proceeded to lift your leg over his shoulder, your nightgown bushing up around your thighs. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight. You now understood exactly what Milton was trying to express when he described Lucifer as irresistible because the sight of Fyodor on his knees in front of you was enough to make you feel faint.

"But I figured this would be much more entertaining," the devil smirked, leaning forward to seemingly kiss your thigh. Your mind fought with you to stay focused on your prayer and your teachings. God will save us. But any semblance of a rational thought escaped your mind when you felt a sharp pain in your thigh.

You cried out, feeling the blood rush to the site where Fyodor bit you. The demon doesn't pull away, eager to taste the metallic and salty liquid, holding you tight as you struggle against his grasp.

Your sobs echoed through the church but Fyodor didn't seem to care. The priests were decommissioned one might say and the demon was quite exhilarated at the prospect of one of your sisters walking in on the two of you in the house of the Lord.

"Get off-," your shouts fell on deaf ears as he trails his mouth further up your thighs. The warm liquid (a stark contrast to the man's cold skin) running down your thigh filling the small booth with the sharp smell of iron.

Your body betrayed you as a small gasp fell from your lips. His mouth left open mouth kisses until he reached your bare core and your mouth fell open in silent pleasure. Your attempts to push him away had died down, your hands, which had been shoving his horns to create space between the two of you, now rested helplessly in his hair.

Your moans and gasp filled the small wooden room, back arching away from the wall as Fyodor's sharp tongue explored the depth of your cunt.

The devil appeared to be pleased with your response, feeling your legs beginning to tremble, and he pulled away with a mocking smirk. Your disappointment was visible as he stands but you refused to vocalize it. Instead, you began mumbling a prayer of repentance, which filled the purple-eyed demon with annoyance.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the confessional booth, ignoring your limp as blood continued to drip down your leg, staining your white nightgown crimson. The altar statues and stained glass figures looked down upon you and a deep sense of shame filled your heart.

Fyodor forced you to lay on one of the pews in the front row. You took a sharp inhale, not pushing him away as he began removing your nightgown, revealing your bare skin. 

The sound of your breathing filled your ears as he pushed his robes aside and revealed his member. Worry flooded your mind once more as you realized your vow to God was at risk, "Please... Let me go..."

However, the devil rejoiced in your torment as he climbed on top of you and aligned himself with your entrance, "But where's the fun in that, Ангел?"

His purple glare pierced you as he looked down on you with a cold and calculating gaze and you cried out as he suddenly entered you, back arching and fingers clinging onto his stolen uniform. His thrusts were relentless and punishing, not caring that this was your first time.

Your cries soon turned to whines and moans as he maintained a steady rhythm. Your face contorted with pleasure, eyes squeezing shut, "Keep your eyes open, Ангел. I want you to see the Saints as I ruin you,"

You attempted to shake your head but he grabbed your cheeks, nails digging into your skin painfully, forcing you to open your eyes and look up at him. The scene above you was strangely ethereal as the horrifyingly beautiful man looked down on you, his head surrounded with the colorful stained glass as he carefully reached down, brushing his thumb against your lower lip, and you felt your walls clamp down around his cock.

"I think you have still not completely forsaken your god," he whispered, leaning closer to you, lips brushing against your pulse as he stopped thrusting.

You audibly whimpered as he pulled out of you and sat down on the pew. You sat up, confused by why he stopped. You hesitated slightly, using your arms to cover your chest in a pathetic attempt to regain some dignity, "Father...?"

"If you want more, you'll have to work for it and give yourself up to me," he said with a cocky grin, his hair slightly disheveled from our prior activities. You couldn't deny your body craved for more but your pride did prevent you from eagerly sitting on his lap.

It took you a few minutes to finally give into your instincts and you hesitantly sank onto his lap, whining at the stretch inside you. Without thinking, you suddenly kissed the demon, a tugging sensation nagging you in the back of your mind.

Fyodor kept a careful eye on you as you kissed him, amused to finally see you submit. He closed his eyes, deepening the kiss as you tried your best to start riding him.

The devil nipped your tongue in the fiery kiss, causing you to bleed slightly, and he gently sucked on it. You moaned against his lips as his hands drifted to your hips to help you speed up the pace.

Your hands grabbed onto his hair, tugging at his roots as you continued to kiss him feverishly. Your boobs bounced, matching the rhythm Fyodor set and you felt the sensation you had grown far too familiar with overtake you as you moaned.

Your body shuddered as you came, walls clenching around Fyodor's dick tightly. For the first time of the night, you also saw his expression falter for a split second as he shut his purple eyes and let out a sharp exhale before cumming deep into your womb.

Despite reaching your peaks, Fyodor didn't stop to thrust up into you, almost as if he were trying to make sure his load stayed inside of you. Your whines began to fill his ears as you complained about overstimulation and, in the most shocking turn of events, the demon listened to you, pulling out.

You struggled to catch your breath, still leaning against the cold inhumane creature overwhelmed. Fyodor looked down at you and pondered for a few seconds.

Just as you prepared yourself to stand and get dressed, Fyodor's hand moved to your chin and made you look up to him.

"You can call me Fyodor," he said, purple eyes piercing through yours, "Your soul and body now belong to me forever, Родная."