#bsd doa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kolyubov · 1 year ago

Text

Rises the moon.

✧ pairing. Doa3 x gn!reader

✧ word count. 2k.

✧ contents. fluff, ooc doa3, relationships are not specified (this is not necessarily romantic, take it as you please <3), mostly self-indulgent. if I missed anything, please tell me.

✧ author's note. it's been so long since i posted anything,,, i hope this is good enoughwaaaaeuxjwunxsk

It was past midnight and the apartment was enveloped in silence. You couldn't hear anyone talking in the living room, meaning everyone was asleep.

To be able to enjoy a quiet rest in this place was rare. Midnights are the most bustling hours, when everyone gathers to discuss “important” business until early in the morning, before leaving for whatever they have to do.

Considering this, you could have had a nice sleep for once… if it wasn’t for the rain storming outside.

A sudden thunder crash caused you to abruptly wake up in the middle of your dream— Your heart thumping quickly against your chest and your breath coming out in heavy gasps. You felt disoriented for a few seconds until you eventually calmed down.

Usually, storms don’t scare you, in fact, they’re quite enjoyable along with a lecture or a movie, but not now when you're alone in your room and in the middle of the night, surrounded by the darkness and with your vision barely helping you to perceive your surroundings.

Among the dark, shadows shape into tall monsters lurking from the corner of your room, seemingly waiting for the right moment to lay their ghostly hands on you before disappearing after each lightning. The brief second of luminance makes you realize that those shadows are just that, no one was going to actually hurt you.

Yet, going back into the land of dreams was difficult under these circumstances.

You tried by closing your eyes, ignoring the “monsters” and the loud rumbling of the thunderstorm, and taking deep breaths to calm your unsteady heart but you just couldn't fall asleep. The unsafe sensation wouldn't go away, perhaps until the sun rises again.

However, you had some kind of idea that could help you sleep.

You sat on your bed for a while, contemplating the storm through the window that doesn't seem to end anytime soon and trying to gain the courage to leave your room.

Maybe this idea wasn't the best one you could have, but it was the first thing that came to your sleepy brain, and it's not like you were in the mood to think of any consequences due to what you were going to do.

With a light groan, you leave the comfort of your bed and grab your fluffy pillow in between your arms. The wooden floor cracks under your feet as you make your way to the door of your room then carefully opening it, peeking through the small gap, making sure no dangers are around before stepping outside.

Luckily, the hallway was slightly illuminated with one lamp that hung from the ceiling— The old wooden floor cracks under your deliberated steps as you make your way to his room. Once you stand in front of it, and just as you place a hand on the knob, another sudden thunder makes you jerk in surprise.

Was that a sign from God to not do this?

Without properly rethinking —also too tired to think of any potential risks— you twist the knob, and immediately your eyes land on his sleeping peaceful form; almost completely wrapped with a blanket but letting you see his face. His lips barely parted and his eyelashes rested over his cheeks.

It's not every day when you see Fyodor sleeping on a comfy mattress…

Until now, you had always seen him working day and night underground, sitting in front of his bright purple monitor screen and typing away weird codes or messages that seemed impossible for you to deceive. And if he was not working underground, instead, he was taking a stroll through the city or drinking tea in some restaurant that picked his curiosity.

But sleeping didn't seem to be like a normal activity for him to do.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, hm?”

Fyodor's groggy voice makes you snap out of your thoughts. Now he’s looking at you with a gentle smile as you stand on his doorframe, gripping your pillow awkwardly as you wait for some type of permission— And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he motions for you to come closer with his hand.

The mattress sinks under your weight as you get into the bed and place your pillow just beside his. Wasting no time, Fyodor wraps his blanket around your frame. And it takes some time for you to realize that he's gladly sharing his personal space, which adds to another unusual thing he's doing tonight.

“I couldn't sleep.” You mutter, as he pulls you closer.

“Why's that, dearest?”

“The storm…”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, finding adorable the fact that you needed company just because of a mere storm. Though, he knew the answer even before you said it.

One of his hands —usually cold— is now warming up your cheek, cupping it and rubbing small circles with his thumb as if to soothe you, to tell that he’s there for you without any words needed, simply light touches and whispers shared in between the two.

And for a small second you return the gesture, gently tracing the dark circles underneath his eyes as you scan his features; his thin eyebrows, his purple eyes, and his nose before finally stopping at his lips— His lower lip a little bitten and red.

Unconsciously, your own lips twitch upwards as your mind clouds with the idea of kissing every inch of his pale skin, having him softly laughing underneath you.

To hide your smile, you rest your head against his chest, pressing your ear to where his heart is. The soft thud makes a gentle symphony, a calming sound, that allows any tension left in your body to slip away. Fyodor’s presence fills your senses, making you forget about the rain violently storming outside. Something pulls you closer as your arms wrap around him.

Fyodor doesn’t complain of the proximity, instead, his slender fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his digits or untying knots that were made while you were sleeping before the thunder strike woke you up.

It’s not a surprise that your eyelids eventually start feeling heavy, with all the sweet caresses and the warmth provided, your body is ready to resume your sleep, enveloped in the most comfortable shelter you could ever ask for—

“Oh…”

One of Fyodor's hands cups the back of your head tenderly, pulling you flush against him as if to avoid someone from snatching his most precious thing.

“…What’s wrong, Fedya?” You want to pull away, but a high-pitched giggle comes from behind you, accompanied by the sound of rustling the sheets.

Seems like we have company.

“What are you two doing sleeping without me? That's mean… Leaving a friend out is not nice, dovey.” Nikolai grumbles as he climbs to the bed, lying on his side and hugging you from behind, “Why not come to me when the storm startles your peaceful sleep, hm?

The jester seems not afraid in the slightest to have physical contact with Fyodor, or anyone really…

You can feel his hand removing Fyodor's from your head before he nuzzles against the crook of your neck; the tip of his nose brushes up and down your skin purposely to tickle you. Oh, how much Nikolai loved hearing your giggles as you squirmed around his bear hug, it made his heart almost beat out of his chest.

“I do not recall asking you to show up in my room, Nikolai.” By the tone of his voice, Fyodor doesn't seem pleased with the additional company taking space on his bed and ruining your peaceful encounter.

Nikolai’s hands trail up your ribs, and without any warning, he begins tickling you— not stopping even as you try to pry them away among laughs.

“Dove, you’re not gonna make me leave, are you?” He whispers against your ear, voice whiny and you are almost completely sure that he's pouting right now, hoping you at least feel pity for leaving him out, “Tell Dos that you want me to stay…”

But just by eyeing Fyodor, the answer is more than clear on his face. Refuting his words to let Nikolai sleep with the two of you is most likely ending with you and the jester being kicked out.

“C'mon, C'mon! You're scared of the storm, aren't you, birdie?” Nikolai pecks your cheek and pets your hair dramatically. “Poor baby! Shouldn't we help this frail dove together, Dos?”

“There's no need for that.” Fyodor's patience is going thin.

Nikolai clicks his tongue in annoyance, sitting up on the bed with his arms crossed like a child and glaring at Fyodor for a while, trying to convince him just by holding eye contact until he gives up, knowing there’s no room for negotiating.

“Fine, I'll leave… Gosh, you're such a killjoy.”

As he slips out the bed, muttering curses under his breath, Fyodor sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not the first —and definitely not the last— time he has to put up with Nikolai’s behavior.

God blessed him this time, it seems. He didn't need to make too much of a fuss to make Nikolai leave.

When the door opens and the jester intruder is ready to leave in order to resume the calming moment that Fyodor was truly appreciating, instead of leaving, Nikolai throws his arms up in the air excitedly.

“Dear Sigma! What a great surprise!”

The casino manager stands in the doorframe, rubbing one of his eyes. It appears like his sleep was interrupted as well.

“Uhm… Could you guys keep it down, please? I woke up because you're so noisy and I'm trying to—”

Sigma didn't have time to finish speaking before he was dragged by Nikolai, tugging on his sleeve and pulling him to the bed. Fyodor’s bed. Then pushing him down to the mattress as if he was nothing but another plushie added to the collection.

“Gogol! I didn’t come here to have a sleepover!” Sigma complains, rolling his eyes before meeting your gaze, and giving you an awkward smile.

Then meeting Fyodor's.

Something didn’t seem to add up.

“Am I… missing something?”

“This little dove needs our help, my dear friend! You see, the storm ruffled their lovely feathers so they needed to shelter in our embrace.”

Sigma raises an eyebrow at the jester’s words, and even if he's stuck in this —unwanted— situation it's not difficult to understand the message. He sighs, lying back on the bed and holding your hand, “It’s going to be okay, angel.”

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before bringing it to his lips and placing a soft peck on the back of it. He cares about you more than he hates having to deal with Nikolai.

The four of you managed to fit in Fyodor's bed with little space in between. Nikolai's head is now resting on your chest, him in between your legs, his arms around your waist. On the other hand, Fyodor and Sigma were lying on each side of you, either playing with your hair or stroking your hand. Any soft touch brings you closer to dozing off.

Fyodor mutters a small apology because of his "friends" behavior. His fingers graze your palm before he locks his fingers with yours as well. Silence slowly begins flooding the room; you feel perfectly safe with them around, so you close your eyes, letting your body relax.

“Oh! I have the greatest idea, how about we have a sleepover and do our nails and—”

“Nikolai.” The three of you called his name almost as if grounding a child; making the jester frown and pout.

You couldn't suppress your giggles, thinking that this might be the first —and the last— time you'll have the three men from the same dangerous organization sleeping together in the same bed only because they care about you, in their own way.

The storm slowly fades away, forgotten in the warmth of their embrace.

When waking up the next morning, you'll have to face the pain in your limbs from being entangled around them… And wondering how you and Fyodor ended up in between Sigma and Nikolai's hug.

377 notes · View notes