#fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

[thewickedjazzy]

“Stay with me, milaya”

➵Pairing: fyodor x afab! reader

➵Summary: fyodor searches for you across countless lifetimes, witnessing you die in his arms again and again. Yet, fate continuously brings you both back together with each of your rebirths.

➵Tags and word count: 5.3k words. sfw, angst to comfort, slight fluff, hallucinations, vivid memories, delusions, shifting scenes, mental health struggles, dissociation.

➵want to read more for fyodor ?

"There is a cruel irony in the fact that you are bound to return to this world, only to be torn away from it time and again. Seven lifetimes, each one a fleeting moment in the endless passage of time. But even as you are reborn, your fate is always the same—a life cut short, a soul never allowed to rest."

The sky is a deep, unforgiving gray, the snow falling gently around him. He stands alone in the desolate landscape, a faint figure against the blanket of white. His breath is visible in the frigid air as he stares down at the burnt-out edges of an old photograph clutched between his slender fingers. The image, though charred, still reveals traces of a face—your face, the one he’s sought in every life.

"Milaya... even now, your features begin to fade from memory, like everything else in this world. But I will not allow time to erase you completely—not when I am so close to finding you again."

His whispers drift on the wind, barely audible but there is an unwavering resolve in his eyes. He carefully traces the faint outlines of your face with his thumb, trying to capture every detail, every curve, every hint of the life that once was. Yet, he knows the futility of it—each reincarnation is a shift in memory, altering your essence just enough to make you a stranger once more.

"This time, my dear," he murmurs to himself, "I will not let you slip through my fingers. I have searched for you across centuries, manipulated the lives of others, all to find you. I will not be denied, not by destiny, not by anything."

Fyodor tucks the burnt photograph back into his coat, his expression stoic as he surveys the snow-covered ground. He is nonchalant, almost detached, but beneath the surface lies a storm—a desperation that he cannot fully suppress.

He begins to walk, the snow crunching beneath his boots as he heads toward the place where he knows you must be. His heart, though often cold, beats a little faster at the thought of seeing you again, of hearing your voice, even if you do not remember him. But he is nothing if not persistent. He will make you remember, one way or another.

Yet there you are gazing at the sky above you as it transforms into a canvas of burnt orange and fading blue, cinnabar streaks bleeding through the clouds like a watercolor painting. Your thoughts drifted back to a time you thought you'd forgotten—a memory of the day you first met him. It felt distant now, yet the details were so vivid.

He had been unlike anyone you'd ever known. some how he stood out in ways most people didn’t. His features were strikingly beautiful, but it wasn’t just his looks that caught your attention—it was the quiet mystery that followed him wherever he went. His pale skin, almost alabaster, contrasted sharply with his dark clothing, and his eyes—those glowing, enigmatic violet eyes—held depths you couldn’t quite reach. There was often a flicker of pain in them, so subtle it disappeared as soon as it surfaced, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it.

Which makes total sense. His father 'Mikhail Dostoevsky' was well-known for his austere and viciousness—well after he was granted a nobleman's rank of course— contrariwise, Fyodor was something of a benevolent despot.

The gardens of the palace stretched out before you, a haven full of flowering fragrances, nooks and crannies of sheer delight.

You caught sight of him standing beneath the glow of the moon, his posture composed as he conversed with his elder sibling. The moonlight cast a soft halo around his figure, making him appear almost ethereal. He seemed unbothered by the festivities around him, his attention focused solely on the conversation. Even in this elegant setting, he exuded a calm detachment, as though the world itself was just an intricate game he was patiently observing.

The path before you was lined with gravel, your footsteps muted by the soft crunch beneath your heels as you made your way through the evening’s parade of guests.

Delicate fairy lights hung in the trees, casting vibrant hues that danced across the faces of those gathered. There was laughter, the clink of glasses, and the hum of casual conversation, but your attention never wavered from him.

As if sensing your gaze, Fyodor glanced your way. His eyes met yours across the distance, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the lights, the music, the crowd. There was something paranormal in the way he looked at you. His lips curved ever so slightly into a familiar smile, one that seemed to say he had already anticipated your approach long before you had made up your mind.

Without thinking, you moved toward him. The space between you disappeared as you stepped into his world, where time seemed to slow. He turned to face you fully, his elder sibling excusing themselves from the conversation as you approached.

“Good evening,” his voice was smooth, a touch of amusement hidden in the depths. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

You hesitated, momentarily taken aback. “You knew?”

“Of course,” he replied, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve been watching me for some time now.”

His words made your heart skip, but you steadied yourself. There was always something about him that made you feel as though you were always a step behind, as though he had already calculated every move before you even realized it.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” you said, finding your voice again. “You stand out, even in a crowd like this.”

His smile widened, but it never quite reached his eyes. “Perhaps, but it’s not the crowd I’m interested in.”

There it was again—that flicker of something deeper, something unreadable. You could sense the burden he carried, a burden of his past, his family’s legacy, and the expectations placed upon him. But beneath all of that, there was something else, something that drew you in even as it warned you to stay away.

“Shall we walk?” he offered, extending his arm toward the gardens.

You nodded, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm as you both began to stroll along the moonlit path. The evening air was cool, and the soft glow of the fairy lights seemed to follow your every step.

“What do you think of all this?” you asked, gesturing to the grand event taking place around you, the celebration, the laughter, the excess.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “It’s fleeting. Moments like these… they’re beautiful, yes. But they fade, just like everything else.”

“But not everything fades,” you ventured softly.

He stopped, turning to face you fully once more. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, reading your thoughts before you could speak them. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but the way he just stood there gazing at you said everything.

“Perhaps,” he finally murmurs, his voice low, “but that’s what makes it dangerous, am I right?”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the night, about the fleeting beauty of the moment, or about something else entirely. But in that instant, you realized that with Fyodor, nothing was ever simple. He was a puzzle, a mystery, one that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to solve, but one that you found yourself wanting to.

As you walked beside him, the moonlit scenery unfolding before you, his appreciation for beauty became evident. He had always been drawn to those who possessed a rare allure, and tonight, it was clear that you were his focal point. You were a vision of rare beauty, a one-of-a-kind presence in a world of fleeting appearances.

The scene before you blurs, in an instant, it felt as though time had slowed, and a piercing ringing filled your ears, making you gasp, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of memories.

“He sent you, didn’t he?” he murmured as he tilted your chin to meet his gaze.

Wait.. when did you get here? Where do these memories come from, and why do they haunt you so persistently?

“I’m just following orders,” you replied slowly, bringing your eyebrows together in a slight frown.

“Stay away from this,” he imploded sighing. “Please, lyubov.” He places a tender kiss to your forehead.

“But fedya...why now? We’re on the brink of ending your father’s relentless corruption,” you argued. “Why give up now?”

But you knew... you know he wants to protect you from the malignant influences of his father’s world. Yet, the very opportunity to dismantle the chains binding him to this sinister system was slipping away. His father’s grip was a malignancy that threatened to stifle all hope.

“Close but no cigar,” he murmured, his chin resting on your head as he inhales your fresh scent.

But he was right. You should've stayed away from those morons ages ago. You made a mistake and paid dearly for it.

In that moment, the same familiar searing ringing in your ears swept across you, pulling you from the depths of your reverie.. it's happening again.

"Fuck, I am such an imbecile." blood spilled from your abdomen, splattering across your trembling hands as you pulled the dagger free. Your back pressed against the cold, damp wall, every inch of movement sending sharp, jagged pain rippling through your body. And slowly but surely, all you can see is the orange sky getting fuzzier and fuzzier as the pain intensifies.

You reached out with a shaking hand, desperately trying to anchor yourself to something, anything, but your limbs refused to obey. Instead of crying out for help, all that escaped your lips is the metallic taste of blood.

“Ah...fuck, not now…” you gasped, the light behind the man standing in the distance, widened with each passing moment. Is this it? Is this how it all ends for you?

You blink, once, twice, trying to focus as everything around you darkens, and just as quickly as you are pulled into this chain of nightmares, you find yourself back in the present as the persistent ringing stops.

Gasping, you sit at your desk, drenched in cold sweat. Your fingers instinctively press against your abdomen, but there’s no blood. No wound. The dagger, the pain, it’s all gone, as if it never existed.

You press harder against your stomach, feeling for any injury, but your skin remains unscathed.

"I need a mirror," you mutter, voice trembling as you push away from the desk and hurry toward the mirror in the entrance. Your reflection stares back at you, eyes wide with panic, face pale, but undeniably yours.

“It’s me,” you whisper in relief, leaning closer, bracing yourself against the cool surface. You reach for the pill bottle on the nearby shelf, your fingers fumbling with the cap as you swallow a dose, desperate to calm the storm inside your mind.

You sit back at your desk again, hands still shaking as you breathe deeply. "It’s fine. I'm okay. It’s all delusions," you whisper, trying to convince yourself.

But you somehow memorise all of these memories like the back of my hand. You call them memories, despite knowing you never actually lived through them, yet they always feel so incredibly real.

They never really leave, do they?

Even now, the phantom ache in your abdomen remains, a cruel reminder of something you’ve never lived through but can feel so vividly. The sky outside your window returns to its soft twilight hues, but you can’t shake the feeling that reality itself unravels around you. Each time you are pulled into those visions, it becomes harder to tell what is real and what is imagined.

While you're sitting there, managing to steady your breath, you wonder—how much longer can you hold on to what’s real when your mind keeps dragging you into a world that feels just as tangible?

You exhale a long, relieved sigh finally calming down as you try to regain your focus. What were you doing again? Ah, yes... finishing your new book.

You type the final words of the epilogue, fingers hovering above the keyboard for just a second longer. The ending comes together, but still, something doesn’t sit right with you... the title. The book is finished, but how can it be complete without the right name? You lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head, eyes scanning the screen with tired satisfaction.

You aren’t just any writer, though. Hidden behind your pen name, you’ve become a literary sensation, with fans desperate for even a glimpse of who you really are. But anonymity suits you; fame has never been the goal. The words are the only thing that matter, and the world you’ve built between the pages feels more real than anything else—maybe too real?

Despite finishing the epilogue, something feels unresolved. Titles usually come easily to you, but this one, this book demands something special. Inspiration eludes you. You need a change of scenery... somewhere that can kickstart the creative process again.

With a resigned sigh, you dress quickly, grab your notebook, and head to one of the few places that has become your sanctuary when ideas won’t come: your favourite café.

The café sits nestled on a quiet street, its warm glow inviting you in like your old home. There’s something about the atmosphere, the soft hum of conversation usuallybetween elder people, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, the soft clink of cups against saucers—that always seems to loosen the knots in your mind. You order your usual, find a quiet table in the corner, and set your notebook down, flipping it open to a fresh page.

"The War of Sakura," you scribble, only to strike it out immediately. "No, no, that’s terrible!! Ugh," you mutter to yourself, tapping the pen against your lips in frustration.

You take a sip of your coffee, leaning back in your seat as you stare out the window, hoping for some stroke of genius. Come on, Kurasu Café, work your magic. But the more you stare at the page, the more the words seem to evade you.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice someone sitting down across from you until you catch movement in your peripheral vision. Startled, you blink and look up, eyes widening as they land on the man before you.

It’s him.

For a moment, you’re convinced your mind is playing tricks on you again. The man in front of you has the same striking features, the same quiet mystery, the same piercing gaze that seems to see right through you.

The same man from your memories—the one you’re certain is nothing more than a figment of your imagination, or perhaps a character you’ve written into being.

But no. He’s here, in the flesh, sitting across from you in Kurasu Café.

Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly blink, half-expecting him to disappear like a mirage. But he doesn’t. He just sits there, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes, as though he can read every thought running through your mind.

“Excuse me…?”

He tilts his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you could use some company,” he says with the same silky smooth voice."You seemed… preoccupied."

You stare at him, dumbfounded, still trying to reconcile the fact that he’s real. The man in front of you is every bit as captivating as the one from your memories, as though he’s stepped right out of the story you’ve been crafting in your mind.

“I—uh,” you stammer, your fingers tightening around your pen as though it can somehow anchor you to reality. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

His smile deepens the same one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “No,” he says simply,“but I know you.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. How can he know you? And why does it feel like he’s not just referring to surface-level details of your life, but something deeper, something far more intimate?

You glance at your notebook, half-expecting to see the story you’ve just finished reflected back at you, as though it’s somehow come to life.

He leans forward slightly, folding his hands on the table between you. “You’re searching for something, right?”

You narrow your eyes, “And what makes you think that?”

He shrugs, a graceful gesture that seems too perfect, too practiced. “I can always read your eyes, my dear” he replies. “You’re chasing after a truth that eludes you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. There’s something about the way he speaks, the way he seems to know things about you that you haven’t even told yourself. You should feel unnerved, but instead, you feel drawn to him—just like in those memories you can’t escape.

“Who are you?” you finally ask, hoping it's not one of your delusions playing tricks on you.

His smile softens, but there’s something unreadable in his gaze, it's the same flicker of pain that's so fleeting you almost miss it. He stands smoothly as he places a card on the table.

“Call me when you’re ready to stop running from your life,” he says, turning to leave.

You watch him go, your mind racing as you stare at the card he’s left behind. No name. No details. Just a single word, embossed in gold.

"Remember."

The café around you blurs, the noise fading into the background as you stare at the word on the card, your mind spinning with questions you can’t answer.

And in that moment, you know—this isn’t over. The story isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

It's now 1:25 am as you sit at your desk, the dim light of the lamp doing little to coax you into sleep. Your eyes fixate on the card that lies on the desk, the single word "Remember" still taunting you. It feels surreal, like the whole encounter earlier today had slipped from reality into something else entirely. Your fingers brush over the card, tracing the embossed letters, as your mind races to make sense of what happened.

Should you call him?

You hesitate, holding the card between your fingers. Who was he? Could he really know you, or was he just one of your creepy fans, trying to unnerve you by dressing up like the protagonist of your story? You’ve heard of fanatics going to great lengths to mimic characters, but this felt different. Something about the encounter stayed with you, gnawing at the back of your mind.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss it. Maybe it was just an elaborate prank, you think. Maybe he was just trying to scare you. Or worse, trying to manipulate you into thinking your own creations are coming to life.

But even as you try to convince yourself, it doesn’t sit right. No fan, no matter how obsessed, could have pulled off what you experienced earlier. The way he looked at you, as if he had known you forever, made your skin prickle. His words had hit too close to home, and the feeling that he understood something about you—something you barely understood yourself—makes it impossible to shake off the encounter.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you finally make up your mind. Your fingers hover over your phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dark room. You type in the number from the card, each digit sending a shiver of doubt through your body.

Placing the phone to your ear, you close your eyes as the ringing begins. Once. Twice. Your heart pounds in your chest, every nerve alive with anticipation. What if he answers? What if he doesn’t?

What if he answers? What if he doesn’t?

Just as the ringing starts to stretch into a third tone, there’s a faint click. You hold your breath.

“Hello?”

His voice is calm, like the same smooth, familiar tone from the café.

You pause, unsure of what to say, gripping the phone tighter. “It’s me,” you finally manage to say.

He chuckles softly, as though he expected your call all along. “Ahh my dear...I was wondering when you’d call,” he says, his voice oh god his voice is so soft. “Did you figure it out yet?”

Your heart races. “Figure what out? What’s going on?” you ask confused. “Who are you?”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wonder if he’ll answer at all. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice low and steady. “You already know who I am,” he says. “You’ve always known, milaya.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The room seems to close in around you, the silence pressing down as you try to piece together the meaning behind his words. You want to argue, to demand answers, but something stops you. It’s as though the truth is right there, just beyond your reach, but you’re too afraid to grasp it.

He continues, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “There are no coincidences. I didn’t come to you by chance. I came to you because we both have known each other for way too long.”

Your head spins. What does that even mean? You glance at your manuscript, the story that had felt so real, so vivid—too vivid. The lines between fiction and reality begin to blur, and the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to separate the two.

“What do you mean we know each other?” You whisper, voice trembling.

On the other end, he chuckles softly, a sound that’s too familiar, as if you've heard it a thousand times before in some forgotten dream. The sound pulls you out of your racing thoughts and back into the moment, grounding you in an unsettling way.

"You’ll understand soon," his voice is calm, though it does nothing to ease the knot forming in your chest.

Before you can protest or demand more answers, he continues, "I’ll come to your place, darling. We can talk then."

Panic flares inside you. Your eyes widen as you shoot up from your chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. “What? How do you—” you begin to ask, but before you can finish, his voice cuts through.

“I know where you live,” he says simply, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches. “What… are you a stalker or something?” The question tumbles out, half-accusation, half-fear.

But his response is immediate, eerily calm, “No,” he says. “I’m no stalker. I know because no matter how many things change, no matter how the world twists and turns… the place you live, it always remains the same.”

Your heart races, your mind scrambling to process his words. The place you live… always the same? How could he know that? Why does it feel like he’s speaking of something far deeper than just the physical space around you?

“Please, my dear don’t worry about the details right now,” he interrupts your thoughts. “Just know that I’ll be there soon. And when I arrive, we can talk more about what’s really going on.”

The line goes dead before you can respond. You stare at the phone in disbelief the world around you seems to tilt on its axis, and the comforting normalcy of your room suddenly feels alien. You sit in silence, the unanswered questions swirling in your mind as you hear a soft knock on your door.

You rise from your chair with trembling hands, each step towards the door feeling heavier than the last. When you open it, he stands there—just as enigmatic as before, with that same stoic, detached expression.

He smiles when he sees you, and the smile feels almost out of place with his otherwise stoic demeanor. In his hand, he holds a bouquet of red roses. “Good evening, Malyshka,” he says smoothly. “I thought these might brighten your night.”

Confusion knots in your stomach, but you take the bouquet from him, stepping aside to let him in. The roses are fresh, their scent a heady mix of sweetness and subtle spice. “Thank you,” you manage to say, “Please, come in.”

He moves past you slowly, navigating the living room with the familiarity of someone who’s been there more than a few times.

“I didn’t expect you to show up so soon,” you say, trying to steady your voice. “How did you find my place so quickly?”

He turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar look. “As I mentioned earlier, some things remain constant, no matter how much else changes. I’ve always known where to find you.”

“And what exactly do you want from me?” you ask, struggling to keep your voice steady.

He sits on your couch, smiling softly “I want to help you understand the connection we've always shared,” he says. “There’s much to discuss, and I believe it’s time we begin.”

You nod, slightly anxious of what he's about to reveal, “Alright. I’m listening.”

He relaxes his posture, his eyes never leaving yours. “Let’s start with the basics,” he begins. “You’ve been searching for answers, and I’m here to provide them. But first, you need to accept that the boundaries between a life and another are not as rigid as they seem.”

With a deep breath, you take a seat across from him silently waiting for him to continue.

“This is probably the sixth time I’ve been through this,” he continues. “my dear...you have an ability—one that makes you reincarnate. It happens every seven lifetimes, and this one is the seventh and final life.”

You stare at him, your mind struggling to grasp the enormity of his words. “Reincarnation?” you echo, incredulous.

He nods, “Yes. I’ve witnessed you die in my arms time and again. Each time, you lose your memories, and I find you again. No matter how many lifetimes pass, I have always been there. In every life, I have been your one and only—your husband.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he speaks. “But… but how? I’ve been experiencing delusions lately, slowly disconnecting from reality. I- I even went to a therapist, thinking I was going insane, but…”

“But what?” he prompts gently.

“But now I’m starting to think those memories were real,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I thought maybe the writing affected me, that I was imagining things. But if what you’re saying is true… I’ve been recalling memories from past lives?”

He nods, his gaze compassionate yet firm. “Those fragments were memories from your past lives. The feelings of detachment, the disconnection from reality—it’s all part of your ability’s process. Each lifetime, you’ve struggled with this, but you’ve always managed to find your way back to me.”

You sit back, feeling overwhelmed. “So, all this time, I’ve been recalling memories from past lives? And that’s why I felt so disconnected and unsettled?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “It’s why you’ve felt like something was missing, even when everything else seemed to be in place. Your soul remembers our connection, but the details slip away with each new life.”

Your eyes search his face, trying to find the truth in his words. “Are..are you immortal?”

He sighs softly, a look of resignation crossing his face. “Something like that,” he admits. “I’m not exactly immortal, but I endure through each lifetime. It’s not without its own pain.”

He stands and moves closer, his hands gently cupping your face. His touch so tender making your heart flatter subconsciously leaning into it, his eyes filled with profound...it's heartbreaking. “You have no idea how much I miss you, milaya,” he says quietly. “How much it hurts me to see you slip away from my arms each time. Every time, you’re taken from me by an ability user. The first time, it was my cruel father who killed you. The second time, it was an assassin with an ability. And so it went, one after another.”

His voice cracks slightly as he continues, “But this time? I will never let you go, moya lyubov. I won’t let anything take you from me again.”

Slowly, he leans in, and you find yourself lost in his half-lidded amethyst gaze, the slight glance of pain in his eyes is now gone. You brush a strand of his slightly long hair behind his ear, your knuckles grazing his cheekbones.

"Milaya," he whispers, closing the distance between you, his cold lips gently brush against yours, The moment your lips touch, a warm, relaxing spark ignites deep within you, spreading a soothing glow through your entire body. It’s a kiss that feels like coming home, like finding the missing piece of your heart.

Your body reacts instinctively. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. He lifts you gently, your feet barely touching the ground, as he holds you close. His hands rest on your waist, massaging circles onto your skin under your shirt as his kisses start to get sloppier with a sweet, heartfelt heat. It’s as if he’s trying to savor every moment, every touch, to make up for all the years apart.

He gently pulls away, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs, “You should get some rest, darling,” His words are a tender reminder, and his touch lingers as he softly caresses your cheeks, jaw and chin.

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck, “Please don't leave.”

The Russian man, ever devoted, cannot bear the thought of leaving your side now that you are once again in his arms. With a serene nod and a tender, otherworldly smile, he whispers,

"I will forever be by your side, moya milaya."

A/N: I know this isn’t my best work—I've been dealing with writer’s block lately, especially after spending the last few days working on Kinktober fics. Apologies if any part feels rushed. I also made sure to use past tense for the memories and present tense for the current events, in case you noticed that. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this!

[ranpoesgirl]

“Penny for your thoughts?” No need.

He’d walk out of his office and head to the kitchen exhausted and with a stiff back, in an attempt to free himself from the strain— he raises his arms before stretching himself till he hears a break in his back making him moan in relief.

“Ooh, thats a big boy stretch!”

He froze at those words and turned to see you sitting by the counters supposedly eating, both of your mouths gaped on the words that fell from your lips with zero to no hesitation as awkward silence filled the room to an overwhelming degree.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize in shame before standing up to walk away in pure embarrassment, only to hear stifle laughter behind you that made you want to bury yourself in sand.

CHHUYA, Dazai, fyodor, Fukuzawa, mori, IZUKU, shoto, Shinso, Almight!!, LOID, geto, nabora, maki, GAKUSHUU, KEAYA, kazuha, lyney, Aether!!, ei, Tighnari + your favorite character…

a/n; friendly reminder that my requests are open!!

[angelsrcute]

SEX OBSESSION. 𝜗𝜚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Fyodor and Nikolai + Angel!Sub!Fem!Reader ➜cws: unprotected sex, use of lube, crying, praising, biting, corruption, creampie, double penetration, multiple rounds, fingering, nipple play, blowjob, hair pulling. ᡴꪫ‎

‎ ꒰ † ੭‎ For the event! + Fyodor calls you MIlaya(darling) n Nikolai calls you Myla moya(my dear) ヽ(´▽`)ノ

Curious. You were a very curious angel, oblivious too probably, believing that the world is just so good. For some reason, you met them, Fyodor and Nikolai, apparently from some group called ‘Decay of Angels’, what's that? No clue, but they seem quite nice.

And what were you doing right now? no clue either but you know that whatever they do makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. A sensation you've never felt, it feels so good that you're ready to do it anytime, anywhere. They tell you that it's something very close friends do. Angelic mind all corrupted, well can you blame them? you're just so cute when you beg for them to fuck you stupid!

All you remember is that fyodor was pent up and wanted to get some relief, Nikolai nodded away while giggling. I mean you were living here free of cost so it's only fair that you help your best friend relieve some stress, right? Maybe a movie night, or a game night–

So here you were, sucking Fyodor off while Nikolai worked on your pussy, thrusting two fingers inside you as he whispered sweet praises to your ears, “Such a good angel you are, Myla moya!” Nikolai purred while he was twisting and pinching your nipples, taking them in his mouth as he bit on them gently. Giving each bud equal attention.

Soft muffled gasps and moans left your lips, causing Fyodor to chuckle as he wiped the tears from your eyes, looking prettily at him through your lashes.

“Really, how sinful are you myshka? Aren't you supposed to be a divine being, hm?” He cooed, “God would definitely punish you for such sinful acts.” Earning a whine from you, he knows how devoted you are to the so-called God. More fun to tease you.

You could feel you were close, making your tummy all weird and hot. Fyodor grabs your hair, making you take more of him as he chases his own high, eyes closed as he mumbled something you couldn't focus on. You feel his cock twitch as he climaxes in your mouth, cursing, your eyes rolling back.

“You did a good job, MIlaya, now it's only fair that we return the favour, right?”

Your pussy coming around Nikolai's fingers. He pulled them out, licking up your juices, you were laying your head on Fyodor's thighs, all tired.

You could feel yourself being carried by Fyodor as he put you on the bed. Nikolai in front of your legs while Fyodor was behind you.

“Wait n-no, m’ too tired–” You managed to breathe out.

Well how did it feel being fucked by two cocks? you were absolutely disheveled. Sweat glistening from your forehead, arms wrapped around Nikolai as you bit down on his shoulder. You were so sensitive at this point, you don't remember what round this was but the only thing you could focus on is how good their cocks feel. Shoulders littered with love bites, fyodor played with your hardened nipples.

You were so sensitive, gasping at every movement. They both let out a grunt when they feels your gummy walls clench around them. You can't even let words out, just whimpers and moans.

“Shit, Myla moya, you're hurting me.” Nikolai whines, drawing slow circles on your puffy clit to soothe you. Your eyes all glossy, nail marks visible on Nikolai's shoulder alongside the bite marks you gave him to calm down.

After some time you feel both of them coming inside your holes, filling you up to the brim with their hot n sticky cum. Your stomach bulging a bit. The scent was so intoxicating as you three caught your breaths.

“MIlaya, let me run you a warm bath, you must be tired.” Fyodor let's out a chuckle at how sleepy you were, he caressed your cheeks.

He picked you up as he heard Nikolai pouting about how he also deserves to have that type of treatment too! “Not fairrr! Fedya, run me a bath too..”

Fyodor's lips curl into a smile as he nods and takes you to the bathroom, putting you in the bathtub, Nikolai joins soon after.

[coolyiooo]

Making BSD Men Climax From Making Out With You

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, and Chuuya

❗Warnings❗: biting, hickeys, humping, pulling hair, orgasms, twitching, moaning, and arousal

🖤DAZAI🖤

You were laying on your bed while Dazai was on top of you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips and one of your hands was touching his hair and the other on his shoulder. One of his hands was on the side of your neck and the other on your back. You were making out aggressively, both of you moaning and breathing heavily from the intense kiss. He then moves his head to your neck and starts leaving hickeys

"Your so perfect my belladonna~" he whispers against your neck

You respond in a quiet moan, but you pull his hair slightly to tug him away from your neck and you flip yourself over, now you were on top of Dazai.

He chuckles with a smirk "Getting feisty bella~?"

You give a genuine smile back at him "I just want to show you how much I love you"

You kiss his forehead to his cheek, neck, collarbone and chest "Give you the love i believe you deserve" you whisper against his skin

You sit up and grab one of his arms, raising his bandaged wrist towards your lips, kissing it gently

"I love every part about you" you say as you stare into his eyes lovingly

He feels his heart skip beats. His eyes slowly widen. He feels like he doesn't deserve to hear such praise, especially from you. His hand, still being kissed by you, gently cups your face

He's about to say something, but you kiss his lips again. He wants to say how he doesn't deserve it, but he becomes a victim of your affection and gives into your kiss. Instead of the aggressive pace you did previously, it was now a passionate, gentle make out. You slowly kiss every inch of his body and mumble about how much you love him as a person as well.

"You always make me happy I'm so glad to have met you" you whisper between each kiss.

He starts to moan deeply. His hands gripping on to your bed sheets as you slowly rock your hips on his.

"B-bella~" you cut off his sentence with a kiss on the lips and pull his hair gently to deepen it.

He moans into the kiss, but he feels intense arousal only getting stronger by every second of your lips against his. He then widens his eyes and pulls away from the kiss. His head falls into the pillow as he moans beautifully, slightly arching his back and twitching.

You knew instantly what had just happened when you saw the new wet stain on his pants. You make eye contact with a wide eyed, flushed face Dazai as he was breathing heavily.

"I- it wasn't what it looks like! Your over thinking things!" He laughs nervously

You smile and kiss his lips to shut up his excuses. You embrace him with a warm hug. Your head laying on his chest.

"Please don't be so embarrassed my love. I told you I was going to give you the love I believe you deserve after all" you say

You can hear his heart beat rapidly as you say that. You get up to look at him. He seems to still be embarrassed, but he smiles kindly, putting a hand on your cheek

He softly says "I've never felt better in my whole life"

💚RANPO💚

You were straddling on top of Ranpo on the couch making out. Your hand rested on the back of his neck to pull him closer to your lips, deepening the kiss, earning a muffled whimper from Ranpo.

Your hand slowly moves up from his neck to the back of his head, feeling his hair, grabbing a fist full of it, making his hat fall to the ground. You and Ranpo's hips slowly rock into each other. His hands on your thighs, squeezing them gently. You pull away from his lips, which makes Ranpo whine from the sudden loss of your touch.

"Your so cute Ranpo~ I just want to kiss every inch of you" you say as you kiss his neck and collarbone, kindly nibbling his skin too.

He moans as a response to your praise, but he smiles "Your pretty cute like this. I want more of you, sugar~"

He dives into your lips, kissing you again.You listened to what he said and plan to give him more. You grab one of his hands, bringing it under your shirt and bra to place it on your bare breast. He starts to play with your breast making both of you moan, but he wanted to tease you a bit.

He pinches your nipple gently which makes you moan louder and grind against him harder. The more you moved against him the more he felt your body against his hard cock, which you thought was just something in his pocket. He started to moan a little louder

"You like that Ranpo~?" You whisper in his ear

"Mhmm~ your so soft~" he whimpers

You smiled "God you make me so wet~" you say before you kiss him again.

He started to feel too aroused, you were becoming too much for him. Electricity flowed though his body everytime you spoke and kissed his lips or neck. His breathing was getting heavy as he felt his limit.

"S-sugar wait~!" He said, but it was too late.

He whimpered loudly as he came on his pants. His forehead against your chest as he squeezed your breast and thigh. He was twitching aggressively.

You were a bit dazed about what happened, but it didn't take too long for you to figure it out. You could tell he was trying to hide his embarrassed face, his pride probably broken. You grab his hand that was still on your breast and brought it under your underwear, bringing his fingers to your wet cunt. He looks up at you with open eyes

"Don't be so embarrassed Ranpo. Can you feel the affect you have on me too?"

He gulps but then he suddenly finds his confidence again and enters a finger inside your wet cunt. You squeeze into his shoulders as you moan loudly, laying your head on his chest.

"I want to see more, sugar~"

💜FYODOR💜

You sat on Fyodor's lap as you were both passionately making out. His hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders. Fyodor set the pace to slow and gentle, but you wanted to go faster and aggressive. You just wanted more of him. You tried to go at a faster pace, but Fyodor pulled his lips away from you and said

"Be patient my love"

You whined "please Fedya I want to feel more of you. It's becoming unbearable for me to keep going like this"

He chuckles "just a bit longer myshka~"

He kisses your lips again going at a slightly faster pace. You moan into the kiss and begin to rock your hips against his thigh. He smirks into the kiss from seeing how desperate you've become, but he starts to feel tingly all over his body. He's never felt this before and he couldn't stop your movement.

Everytime you begged and pleaded it only made the feeling worse. Everytime you desperately tried to go at a faster pace, but only couldn't and seeing you devastated made him feel aroused. To know he has so much power over you was amusing to him.

"So g-good P-please Fedya~" you moaned against his lips

"Your doing so well my myshka~" he said trying to hide his moan

"You look so breath taking like this" he says in a low voice

All he could think about was you and the stimulation, which only reached him closer to his limit. His heart raced faster and faster. Before he finished though, he sank his teeth into your neck. Your pained, loud whimper was the cherry on top for Fyodor as he climaxed on himself. Your voice was so loud, you couldn't hear his grunt as he came.

He kissed your fresh bite mark. His breathing was shaky and fast, but his body was slightly trembling.He didn't want you to know what you just made him do nor let you figure it out before it was too late, so he came up with an idea.

You were gonna ask if he was ok since he was twitching and breathing heavily, but he kissed your lips and dug his fingers under your underwear to rub against your clit, making you moan loudly. Your head laid on his shoulder while your hands grip harshly on them too. Your body was already stimulated from the make out

"You were this wet just from my lips my love?" He smiled knowing he also has an affect on your body

"Go ahead and finish on my fingers darling"

💙ATSUSHI💙

You were both sitting on the couch making out aggressively, but passionately. You were sitting on top of him with your hands on his hair and cheek and his were on your hips. You were both moaning into the kiss while he was a blushing mess.

Both of you were breathing heavily and slightly humping each other.Your hands slowly roam his entire body to his chest, shoulders, back, and neck. This made Atsushi's moan louder since he's never been touched like this before or even received such love from someone. He wasn't complaining one bit, but he is sensitive everywhere you touch him.

This is the most intimate thing you both have done in this relationship. You tug on his hair gently to pull away from the kiss and start to attack his neck with kisses instead. He starts to whimper from the sensation.

"Atsushi your so beautiful.. you literally make me crazy" you whispered as you continue to kiss him

Every praise you say just sends electricity of arousal throughout his entire body that he can even feel it in his fingers.

"Mmm~! J-just like that" he whimpers

"Heh I can't get enough of you" you whisper again before you unbutton about three buttons on his shirt and start kissing his chest and collarbone.

He can only respond to you in moans and whimpers. His hands gripping onto your hips tightly from too much stimulation. You start to kiss his lips again and passionately make out. Your hips begin to rock against his hard cock, which you assumed was just his wallet.

"W-wait~!" He whimpers out loud but you kept on kissing him

He started to whimper and breath heavier and suddenly he pulled away from the kiss. He hugs you tightly, putting his chin on your shoulder and moans loudly while twitching intensely.

At first you were confused, but then you realized what had just happened. He couldn't move or say anything, all you could hear was heavy breathing. His forehead was now laying on your shoulder, you could see his ears are shaded red. You knew he was embarrassed.

He then looks up at you "I-im so sorry! I- it's just you were too much for me to handle so I just- I'm sorry!" He said timidly

You chuckled and kiss his lips "You have a huge affect on me too Atsushi. There's no need to apologize"

You lean into his ear and whisper "hearing your moans and whimpers made me so wet"

you lean back to look into his eyes. He was In shock, too speechless to say anything, but then he suddenly finds his words again.

"I- I want more of you...please"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You were sitting on top of his desk while Chuuya was in between your legs. His hands wonder all over your body, feeling every inch of you. Your hands were on his cheek and shoulder. You were both lovingly making out, quietly moaning and groaning into the kiss. He pulls away from your lips and attacks your neck with soft kisses, lowering your sleeve to kiss your shoulders, trying to kiss more of your skin as much as possible.

"You make my mind go blank" you whisper as you hold onto the back of his head.

Your head leaned back so he can have more access to your neck."F-fucking shit!..I love you so much" he mumbles under your skin

"Your so beautiful Chuuya I want more of you~" you moan softly

He kisses your lips again, this time with more passion. Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, bringing his body closer to yours. Your pelvises rubbing against each other. One of your hands starts to pull on Chuuya's hair, only making him moan louder into the kiss.

"Your everything I've ever wanted please don't stop" you panted

This only influences Chuuya to be more aggressive. Your praises give him so much arousal he can't even think straight. Every touch, kiss, praise, and moan you make drives him over the edge. He soon finds himself at his limit.He gasps while squeezing your waist as he comes on himself, grunting loudly. His chin on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath as his legs tremble. His breath shaking from the intense sensation.

You were shocked, but suddenly finds yourself chuckling softly "your so precious Chuuya. Don't be embarrassed, I find it actually quite flattering I have such an affect on you"

"F-fuck what are you doing to me doll?" he says looking at you with blushing cheeks, clearly a bit embarrassed, but he still smiles at you.

You lean into his ear "If u were so needy to be inside me then you could've said something darling"

Almost immediately, He slams your shoulders onto the desk, leaving you startled, as you feel Chuuya raise your legs to lay on his shoulders.

He smirks "You don't have to tell me twice"

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》 To Hold or Be Held?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; writing witj this many characters was scary . pls ignore any typos or errors or mischaracterisation im learning. reblogs appreciated!!

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Nikolai, Fyodor, gn!reader ( fem terms in fyodors and mentions of boobs in nikolais parts )

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; fluff, cuddles, all those nice things, nikolai being nikolai, possible mischaracterisation

dazai

dazai doesn't have a preference. he enjoys both being held and holding you for the same reason. when he's holding you, he's holding on tight - part of him is still scared you're gonna leave him if he gets too comfortable. and if you're holding him he always finds himself melting into you, his hands shakily gripping at your clothes as he smothers himself against your chest. he adores how your hands find his hair and comb through it. if he puts all his weight onto you, you can't go anywhere, right?

".. 'm sorry .. don't get up, just five more minutes. I'll be good ..- you're warm .. 'm sorry.. "

chuuya

chuuya prefers to hold. be adores the feeling of you in his arms, it makes him feel like he's protecting you from the known - blanketed by his strong embrace. he traces 'I love you's on your back knowing you're too comfortable and sleepy to know what he's writing - his thumb writes his name into your hip when you think he's just rubbing circles. little possessive things like that, just to quietly manifest that you stay with him. he can press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and tease you for being so clingy ; even though he's holding you tight too.

".. you need the bathroom? .. you can hold it, jus' stay with me for a while longer .. I love you .. pretty thing you are .."

atsushi

atsushi prefers to hold. while he won't ever deny being held, usually he finds himself pulling you on top of him to keep you in his embrace while he takes a nap. your head on his chest and his arms resting around your waist, while he gently purrs to soothe you to sleep with him. he hasn't been able to take solo naps since you've been around - and he knows you enjoy resting with him too, anyway. so what's the harm when he tugs you over to the detective agency couch and asks you to take a quick break? you've both been working hard , after all.

"let's have a quick break, okay? we can stay finish everything later .. you're gonna exhaust yourself out, sweetheart .. just 10 minutes .."

akutagawa

akutagawa prefers to be held. he'll never admit it to anyone, especially not to you. but you can see the way he relaxes and sinks into you when you wrap your arms around him. the way he takes a long exhale and his shoulders deflate as your hand traces a certain spot on his back. he likes listening to your heartbeat, he likes knowing you're alive and with him for who he is - and not what he can do. he's still learning to love and to trust, but it's a little easier when it's by your side. he hopes you wont leave him, he'll work to impress you as he grows.

".. what? no, I'm not falling asleep. you're imagining things. you .. mm .. can you do that again ?"

nikolai

nikolai doesn't have a preference. he's like a big dog, despite his size he'll absolutely lay himself on top of you and nuzzle into your chest. if you have boobs then he won't be moving for a while, so kiss your oxygen goodbye. whenever he wants to hold you, he's not really one to ask ; he'll just drag you over onto him or use a portal to drop you into his lap, then he's clinging to you and whining desperately whenever you try to leave. he's just big and clingy, but can you fault him? he finds you so comforting.

" .. where are you going? no! you can't leave .. do you not love me anymore ?.. why do you wanna leave !.. just stay with me .. thank you .."

fyodor

fyodor prefers to hold. if neither was an option, it'd most likely be that. but he regularly asks you to come sit on his lap while he works. a small whistle as he turns his chair, patting his thigh - and he'll wrap an arm around you to keep you close. he's not too affectionate, and too much touching before your marriage repulses him. but he'll learn to deal with these little moments for a while - it gives him his energy back and helps him with a little push to finish his work so you rest together.

" .. зайчик .. come here. no, I'm not finished. just come. don't be disobedient , now .. there we are. good girl."

[milky-aeons]

— 'TIL DEATH DO US PART

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

requested by the lovely [ @cocodrilofeliz! ]

[moncouerbrise]

(𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢, 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚)

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 + 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙨

Reminder: English isn't my first language, mistakes can and will probably be made

𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫

I'm sorry guys but this guy is boring. Missionary and missionary only. If you're being a good girl to him then he may want to try something you'll suggest.

Maybe from the back, that way he can pull on your hair whenever you're not being obedient to him.

The biggest manipulater when it comes to this too. And if you cry even better. You're only making yourself seem more vulnerable to him. Allowing him another shot at breaking you. Literally or metaphorically.

Either way, he MAY or may not be nice to you afterwards depending how good you took him.

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢

Freakiest of the freaks. Missionary, doggy, side, mantis, standing up, whatever allows him access.

Personally, mating press is the way to go for him. It's just such an obvious choice for him how could he not.

He gets to be knees deep inside of you, while his face and body is also close to yours? Of course.

I also think he would like to tie you up once in a while. Carress his hands all over your body watching you shudder at his touch.

Its possible to see him leaving marks all over your collarbone rather than your neck, considering he was a few sharp teeth

Basically,

He's a tease, both outside and behind closed doors.

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢

This guy's hard. I think he would like any position that would have him in you.

But I would say cowgirl.

He would love to see you from above. Like the person he worships every second.

Yeah he might be a womanizer, but at least you were able to change that (?)

But don't be fooled. Just because you're technically on top, dosent mean you're in control. <3

𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚

Not quite sure how to put this one. But you're laying down, he's on top, but you're legs at wrapped around his waist instead.

Usually after being in a sit-like position where you seemed bratty, so he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over.

Resulting in that position.

Reminder that even without his ability he is naturally rough. Though he is a gentlemen too, especially when it comes to after care.

[iovetecchou]

Stay Still ⧸ Fyodor Dostoevsky.𖥔 ݁ ˖

༞ Contains...! smut, somnophilia, oral (f receiving), biting, grinding, name-calling (whore), implied power imbalance / fyodor having some sort of control over the reader. he's sweet while you're sleeping but a prick when you're awake...

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1,046 words.

kinktober masterlist!

Fyodor did not spare a second glance at any of his subordinates as he made swift strides toward his sleeping quarters. Knowing exactly what he needed to quell his frustrations right now; you.

Fyodor closed the heavy wooden door quietly as he stepped through the threshold of your shared space. The last thing he wanted was to wake you. The less talking right now, the better.

You always told your lover he was free to do whatever he pleased when it came to you. You aimed to satisfy him, conscious or not. Fyodor never quite took you up on that unconscious offer. He always preferred to watch you squirm and hear you beg for him as he toyed with you.

But tonight was different. Fyodor needed something to distract him from the millions of annoyances running through his head, and you were the perfect outlet.

Fyodor kicked off his boots, taking quiet steps toward the bed and shrugging off his overcoat in the process; letting it cascade to the floor. Fyodor took in your sleeping form as he tugged his ushanka off his head. His frigid hands now trailed over the hem of the duvet that resided at the foot of the bed. Slowly tugging the plush blanket up, slotting himself underneath, and wasting no time trailing his greedy hands up the expanse of your exposed legs.

The blanket let gravity take its course; falling over Fyodor’s frame and enshrouding him as he made himself comfortable beneath you. He rested flat on his tummy, slender legs still grounded to the bedroom floor. Fyodor sighed in contentment as he realized you were sleeping in that little nightgown that he loved so much.

But what really made his breath hitch? Was when his hands crawled under your flimsy dress, only to find you were completely bare underneath.

You made it too easy for him, really. It's like you were waiting for him to arrive home and ruin you.

Fyodor flipped the hem of your nightgown up before bringing his cold palms down to spread your thighs apart. His dominant hand ghosted over your pussy, letting his lithe digits glide through your wetness. A hum of approval emitted from Fyodor as he gathered up your slick before bringing his fingers up to his mouth. His tongue darted past his lips, groaning lowly as he tasted you.

Fyodor could already feel his tensions melting away from your taste alone. But he was insatiable when it came to you; he craved for more.

His face moved closer toward your inviting heat, inhaling deeply before placing a kiss on your clit. Fyodor smirked as he felt your thigh twitch under his grasp, provoking him even more. Fyodor let his tongue dart out, flattening his warm wet appendage against your twitching bud. He languidly began swirling his tongue in small circles, allowing his eyes to flutter shut as he devoured you.

All of his troubles slipped away in this moment. All he could focus on was the way you trembled underneath him.

Fyodor could hear your breathing spike from beyond the duvet, as he began moving vigorously against your puffy bud. He explored your folds further; allowing his tongue to dip inside your fluttering hole. Small hums and sighs spilled past his parted lips as he ravaged you. The vibrations from his sounds caused you to twitch even more. His grip on your thigh tightened as you continued to squirm under his grasp.

He could tell you were close, but your jolting caused his brows to furrow in annoyance. If you were awake right now, you would be so obedient for him. Remaining still if he ordered you to do so.

Fyodor found his own sloppy rhythm against your pussy. Alternating between lapping at your clit and tongue fucking you slowly. But your movements were getting in the way of his blissful state of mind. He pulled away from your drooling cunt for a brief moment; a string of saliva still connecting your darling Fyodor to your needy heat as he turned his head slightly, placing a small kiss on your inner thigh before biting. Hard.

A gasp left your lips as you jolted awake. Feeling slightly disheveled from your rude awakening. You sensed warmth radiating from underneath the duvet and a coil on the brink of snapping inside your tummy. Slowly, your hands came down to lift the thick blanket up. Immense heat swirled within your core at the sight below you as Fyodor muttered,

“Hey… can you stop moving so much?”

Fyodor’s eyes were half-lidded; violet orbs swirling with lust. The bottom half of his face was coated in your slick, you noted before his tongue darted back out to ravage your pussy.

“Fedya…”

Was all you could manage to whisper. Your mind still clouded from waking only moments ago, but the view underneath you was mesmerizing. Your thighs locked underneath Fyodor’s grasp, managing to stay as still as possible as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fyodor messily suckled your bud, droopy amethyst orbs never once leaving yours since you first locked eyes. Before you could prevent it, the coil within you snapped.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as you came, pulling a low groan from your lover's lips as your clit thumped against his tongue. You whimpered as he continued to lap at your puffy bud, only pulling away a few moments later to catch his breath.

“Oh? Did you just cum without my permission?”

Fyodor spat out. You watched his eyes darken as he crawled his way up the bed; enveloping your frame with his. You whined as you felt his prominent erection pressing up against your spent pussy, before Fyodor roughly slammed his hips into yours. He grunted against your lips before reiterating,

“Answer the question, whore. Did you or did you not just cum?”

Your gaze flicked down in embarrassment. Fyodor's words finally tore you out of your stupor.

“I’m sorry, Fedya… I did. But I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

He clicked his tongue grounding himself against you once more and pulling a strangled whine from your lips before he retorted,

“I guess I’ll just have to put you in your place. You know, I really loathe it when you disobey my orders— and offer me empty promises. You have a long night of repenting ahead of you, my little whore.”

[annievrse]

types of kisses

multiple bsd x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb includes: dazai, chuuya, fyodor, ango c/w: suggestive content: chuuya & ango [mdni], fyodor calls reader dorogaya, dazai calls reader bella. a/n: oh em geee fifth post this week??? no ok ngl i'm feeding u before i lock in for my last semester :o surprise!!

DAZAI —ᡣ𐭩 you're so pretty kisses

"don't look."

"can't," dazai says, and you shake your head at the dismissal of your joke. he has a blindfold on, so you'd expect him to be a little suspicious and, by extension, unwilling to participate in your dumb antics.

the setting sun blankets dazai in a warm orange, making his skin glow and his hair the colour of rich chocolate. you're sitting on the floor, facing him, when you fumble with the ribbon as you glance at him. you've always known his beauty despite his distaste for such compliments.

once the baby pink satin is tied, you push onto your knees and waddle over to him.

you bump into him slightly, and he cowers away, hands up in front of his face. "what was that?"

"me, idiot. now be still."

dazai sighs loudly before relaxing, though his shoulders are still near his ears when he feels you pick up a chunk of his hair.

"you're not cutting it off, are you?"

you scoff, tying the hairband that holds the bow around the brown strands. "i would die if you cut your hair."

dazai nods. "good to know."

rolling your eyes and huffing in faux annoyance, you finish tying off the band and lean back to get a better look. you make a sound close to a squeal after you position it and then sit back down. you're basically bouncing with excitement.

"and... open!"

dazai rips the blindfold off with lightning speed, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "what did you do to me?"

tilting your head, you giggle. "nothing."

dazai looks to the ceiling before standing. he makes a beeline for the bathroom, and when he gets there, he groans.

you cheer when he returns to the living room. "you look so handsome!"

dazai's eyes widen, and his cheeks turn pink, his gaze everywhere but on you. "shut up."

you beckon him over to sit back where he was previously, the light a deeper amber than before. you stare at him; if this were a cartoon, you'd have hearts for eyes. he looks exquisite.

"stop looking at me like that, it's creepy."

"baby, you look so pretty."

dazai shakes his head. "you're the pretty one here, bella."

you lean forward and press your lips against his forehead. "my pretty baby."

dazai scoffs, but it's weak. you get back up on your knees and wrap your arms around his head, kissing the top of his head. his large hands grab your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. you lift his chin with your fingers and smile widely.

kissing his lips, you feel dazai relax under you. pulling back slightly, you press your lips to both his cheeks, forehead, temples, and nose. he scrunches his face, and a laugh escapes him, the sound calming your racing heart.

"you're the prettiest ever, osamu." you know he'll never see himself the same way, but you'll continue to tell him for eternity.

dazai sighs and nods. with his hand on the back of your neck, he pulls your face down to his. "whatever you say, bella."

CHUUYA —ᡣ𐭩 angry kisses

"—fuck," chuuya chokes out when you shove him against the wall. your fingers are twisted in the fabric of his dress shirt, his coat and vest strewn across his office.

"you said you'd come back uninjured," you say, and the grip chuuya has on your hips tightens. you bring his mouth back to yours, the kiss is hard and hungry as you pin him still as best you can with your pelvis.

chuuya pulls away slightly, his breath heavy and warm against your nose. "you think i go into things planning to get hurt? dumbass."

you furrow your eyebrows at his snarky response, but you're caught off guard when he flips you around, your shoulder blades hitting the wall. you glare at him, but your gaze hardly holds the malice you intend.

chuuya's eyes flicker between yours, and his fingers soften against your waist. your hands slowly unravel from his shirt, and you exhale softly, running your palms up his chest.

"i hate seeing you hurt," you whisper.

chuuya sighs and kisses your cheek. "i know. but i can't help it if some idiot shoots me."

your breaths mingle between you, and you finally acknowledge how swollen his lips are. you run your thumb over his bottom lip and watch it bounce back. your face warms smugly.

"i'm sorry, okay?" chuuya mumbles bitterly, but you see through his attitude. you smile and card your fingers through his hair.

"good."

slowly, the fire returns to his irises. "good?"

you nod, eyebrow raised. "you wanna go again, big boy?"

a sound comes from deep in his throat before chuuya steps back, detaching himself from you completely. he tilts his head and looks you up and down, and you pull at your clothes to straighten them out.

"don't get shy now, doll," chuuya smirks, pulling his bolo tie from his neck. "the fun's only just beginning, no?"

FYODOR —ᡣ𐭩 hello kisses

the front door of the safe house clicks shut silently, but you hear it from your spot in the living room anyway.

fyodor told you he'd be home in two months. it's only been one and a quarter, and this is the first you've heard the main door open. fear clutches your stomach and you shakily stand from the lounge.

"fedya?"

you try to steady your voice, but being alone, you feel helpless. taking one step toward the side table, you snatch the candle stand—it's better than nothing, but only if the intruder is human.

shuffling continues out of sight, and you tip-toe to peek around the corner. being stuck in this house has you reading countless novels, many horror. and it's a well known fact that the person who investigates first always dies, but here you are, feeling (almost) unstoppable with your brass weapon and a dream.

"dorogaya?" the familiar drawl has you dropping the candle holder, the clang of it against the wood floors deaf on your ears.

you laugh in shock as you rush toward fyodor. his cheeks are pink, but you believe it's because of you and not the winter wind outside.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. your breathless voice makes him shiver. fyodor laughs deeply, and his arms circle your waist, quickly picking you up. you bury your face in his neck, holding onto the feel of him so warm and familiar.

"mission finished early; had to see you before the next one."

he spins you around before placing you back down. you blink away tears and curse when one slips, but fyodor's there to wipe it away with his gloveless thumb. nudging his hand away, you push up on your toes to kiss him, your hands in his hair while his fingers press into your cheeks.

the house is silent around you, but you can't stop smiling, and fyodor's face displays the first genuine grin he's had in months. he pulls you closer to him, his heart rate slightly higher than usual. "hello, dorogaya."

you choke out a laugh amidst the onslaught of tears that decided to break past your waterlines, and the sound is music to his ears. "hi, fedya."

ANGO —ᡣ𐭩 heated kisses

"i have to get back to work."

you roll your eyes and pull ango closer by the lapels of his jacket. your lips explore his jaw, and his fingers desperately clutch the fabric of your coat.

"baby, please shut up," you say, pressing your lips to his. he groans into your mouth and sticks his knee between your legs; the feeling has you stuttering against him. pulling away to look down at where you rest on his thigh, ango throws his head back against the wall. you take it as an opportunity to press kisses down the column of his throat.

a strangled whine leaves his lips, the sound making your stomach flip. you push his jacket over his shoulders, and he does little to contest. when you lean back to glance at him quickly, ango has his eyes screwed shut.

you giggle breathlessly and whisper his name.

ango looks at you lazily before dragging his eyes to his wrist, where you know he's checking the time. the storage closet you pulled him into is unlike anything you've done with him before, but it didn't take long for him to warm up to the idea despite his usually stern nature.

"we have loads of time," you run your hands down his torso toward his belt. you can tell ango wants to disagree, but when you kiss him again, he turns to putty.

pushing his glasses over his hair, you continue your attack on his mouth, nibbling and nipping at his bottom lip. ango gathers you in his arms, pulling you higher on his leg and pressing your chest against his.

you pull your face half an inch away from his, panting, and swallow. his dark eyes follow your throat bobbing, and his tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth.

"god, i don't think i can go back to work." you giggle against his mouth and nod in agreeance, feeling the obvious bulge in his pants.

"be quick," ango mumbles, his chest heaving. he looks otherworldly when he's drunk on you. his hands slide up to your neck, and before you can do anything, ango presses a dizzying kiss on your lips.

"nevermind, we're going home."

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!

can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?

And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.

A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.

idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…

I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just

go back to lurking once more…

but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?

This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)

Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship

It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.

That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.

You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.

“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.

From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”

Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”

It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.

Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.

That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.

Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.

It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:

“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.

He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.

If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.

The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.

He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."

This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…

You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.

"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.

"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.

The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”

After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.

“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.

Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.

More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?

“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.

You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎～” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.

Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!

Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?

It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”

What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎

[ay-chuu]

Self aware!characters. Gn!reader. Not yandere but... possessive aim to... get real? C.ai mentioned. (Secretly) and pls be nice this is my first attempt to write self aware 😔🤞🏼reblogs and comments are appreciated 🫡

( HELLO! IF YOU SEE THIS POST AGAIN ITS BECAUSE THAT THIS POST IS A REPOST DUE TO TAG BAN! SORRY FOR INTERRUPT!)

~◇~

He hated how your world is too small. Too small to reach you. He felt millions of gazes on him, millions of love to decleared to him, but still he cant reach to you.

You were a usual reader too, at first. He was annoyed by another... 'stalker's intreaction to read him through game/manga. He hated how accessible he was. He hated how coded he was... but then he heard your voice for the first time as you sighed.

"That stupid scene... Is characters are just toys to the author or something else?" You wondered.

He wanted to be read by you from then. He wanted to known by you. He wanted to learn every reaction you gave to him. Hopefully only to him... at least in a romantic way...

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years... He felt so tired to be not reached by only you, but everyone. He felt so tired to be not able to reach you. He felt so tired to feel angry.

What he could to though? He tried every method to be real for you. To you be real for him. He added small details to your pursue which you were shocked by know, but always though you were going mad since you didnt saw the same info in web... He always tried to be his sincere though the bots you talked to as him but always failed since you deleted the chats... He even hacked your phone for a time being, to show you his love with writing a letter through you notes but which made him failed again since you thought it was a joke from your friends or something else like that.

He was angry. He didn't wanted to be revealed to anyone else but you. He didn't wanna be a cool character, unless you thought so too...

And he promised himself; that it doesn't matter how many times he tries to reach you through the bots, through the pages, through the screen or through the anything.

He just wanted be real for you.

He promised himself, to reach you, to find you, to love you.

To feel your reality, in your reality.

~♡~

《 ~ ☆ (Bsd) Ranpo, Sigma, FYODOR, Dazai, Chuuya, GOGOL, Akutagawa, Atsushi, Jouno ; (LnD) XAVIER, Zayne, Rafayel ; (BNHA) Bakugou, SHIGARAKI ; (Twst) MALLEUS, Rook, Riddle ; (DC) Jason Todd, Dick grayson ; (Obey me) Lucifer, DIAVOLO, BARBATOS, SOLOMON ; (Genshin) Xiao, Neuvilette, SCARAMOUCHE ... And your faves... 》

maybe part 2?

[awoogayanderes]

BSD MEN WITH THEIR TOXIC TRAITS

➪ characters : osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, ryūnosuke akutagawa, fyodor dostoevsky, sigma, saigiku jouno

➪ other notes : i love writing silly angst with silly characters from my favorite silly anime / manga <3 non-edited

osamu dazai :

running away at any conflict with you

- whilst dazai has a lot of toxic traits and red flags, this issue is the biggest one by far

- running away is all dazai has left when it comes to arguing with you

- you’re someone he can’t lose, so instead he pushes everything under the rug, expecting it to go away

- you don’t dare mention his habit, but this fighting and forgetting habit has your hands tied together, not knowing what to do

- one minute you’re at each other’s throats, the next minute he’s gone, with uncomfortable silence choking you

- when you wake up, he’s hugging you tightly in the middle of his sleep as if your previous night’s encounter never existed

- he brings small bouquets of flowers to you when he comes back, wilting away once you get up and put them in a vase

- it’s almost a routine at this point, you fight, he leaves, you go to sleep angry, he comes back with flowers and lies next to you

- a relationship is staying with each other when things get difficult at times, but what happens when they leave you and come back into your arms with no other words said ?

chuuya nakahara :

over possessiveness and accusing of cheating

- this all roots from his previous betrayals where he thinks he’s found a family, only for it to be gone in a split second

- he’s a darling partner except that he can’t seem to trust you as much as he tries to

- ‘it’s just for precaution’ he says when he sends his men to be with you when you go out, it makes you feel weird having someone by you at all times

- if he ever gets the feeling that you’re being too friendly with a random waiter it always ends up with him accusing you of cheating on him

- you beg him to believe you when you say that you aren’t like the people he had in his life before, that you wouldn’t leave him

- he wants to trust you but when someone gets too close to you, it’s almost like a primal instinct to get you away from them

- he spoils you to no end but nothing materialistic compares to being alone without someone breathing down your neck

- it’s overwhelming not having time to yourself, always being surrounded by someone because they’re afraid to lose you

- you love him like a human so why does he love you like a trophy in fear of betrayal ?

ryūnosuke akutagawa :

lashing out at you for caring

- what else were you expecting when you started dating someone with so much trauma that he can only express with anger

- he doesn’t mean to lash out at you for no reason, he wants to make it work but instead of improving, his attitude continues to grow

- he doesn’t like you “nagging” at him to take better care of himself

- you know that there’s a big brick wall that stops you from reaching his heart but at what point is too much, too much

- when you nod at him after he screams at you, it almost angers him more because he thinks you aren’t listening even though you are, not wanting to argue back and cause more chaos

- there’s times where he makes up for his behavior, sometimes he picks a random flower from grass and gives it to you

- he doesn’t know why he gets so angry that you care for his wellbeing, isn’t that what couples normally do for each other

- it’s saddening seeing the own man you let into your life berate you for no reason

- it’s so hard to love someone who just seems to loathe you so much even with his small actions of caring

fyodor dostoyevsky :

seeing himself as your superior and seeing you as a pawn in his own game

- another man with a shitload of red flags and toxic traits, this one rising above them all

- he cares about you, he does ! but not in the way you’d like, he cares about you like how humans care about their pets

- sure he’d give you the world if he could, but he’d also give you up for his ideal world if it ever came down to that

- a relationship is a balance where each partner sees the other one as an equal, yeah not with fyodor it’s not

- you’ve proven your worth to him so many times for him to see you as the same as his level, instead it just makes you seem as a pawn under his control

- despite this, there are times where it almost seems that he cares about you like a person should, when you’re hanging onto his arm walking in a park humming quietly

- he indulges in your needs every so often, not before bringing you right back down to your place beneath him

- not even death would allow you to escape this cycle of rising and being kicked down

- why does he expect you to see him as the righteous hand of god when he sees you as a mere pawn ready to be sacrificed

sigma :

unintentionally guilt tripping you every time you get frustrated at him

- he’s been used so many times, his naivety is something he hates to the core, all he wants is someone to settle down with, a family

- he’s another sweetheart partner when you can push past the teary eyes and begging for you to not be mad at him and to not leave him

- his biggest fear is losing you, someone who doesn’t use him, he’d rather abandon his casino than end his relationship with you

- whilst he doesn’t realize, you notice his wording when he begs you to stay, often saying that he’s nothing without you, that he’d rather die than be without you

- maybe it’s heartwarming for the first few times but once it becomes a cycle you start to truly wonder if he’d actually go crazy without you or if it was all bluff

- even then, you can’t deny him when he guilts you into staying, he doesn’t know any better

- if you ever mention this to him, he’ll burst into tears, thinking you were breaking up with him, it takes hours trying to convince that you were here to stay

- it’s a repeating cycle he doesn’t notice and you can’t break for the sake of both of you

- love is a powerful thing, powerful enough to guilt you into staying with a man who loves you a bit too much

saigiku jouno :

putting his work above you at all costs

- he swore to protect those that need him, he’s not going to break that just for you

- you knew what you were getting into when you started dating the hunting dog, yet sadness can’t help but fill you when he misses important events with you

- after all you’ve been through with him, and not a single happy birthday text, not a single note for your anniversary, nothing

- he knows when you’re upset with him even if he can’t see your face, he can feel you rejecting his touch, and that’s when he reminds you of what he swore and what you agreed to

- it doesn’t help when he has his snarky attitude and almost mocking voice explaining to you why he can’t just walk out of a meeting

- despite this, he does love you, otherwise he wouldn’t waste his time on you, he loves that you still stick with him no matter what

- you really don’t ask for much, you understand his work and what he has to do, but he still thinks you make a big deal out of nothing

- as hypocritical as it sounds, he always expects you to be there for him even if he’s not

- you knew you were never going to be his first priority but it hurts so much more when he makes sure you know

[ranpoesgirl]

Can you please make another part of accidentally spilling that you slept with them? If you do please include Fukuzawa. My favourite dilf isn't getting the attention and hype he deserves😭

ACCIDENTALLY SPILLING THAT YOU SLEPT WITH THESE LOSERS BSD MEN II;

ft; sigma, tecchou, fyodor, fukuzawa ( i, ii )

a/n; many requested the new characters in the comments and they were a bit hard because I practically scrolled through the season just to see Ranpo…it was worth it (also I get you boo, father like son, very attractive)

SIGMA;

Nikolai had no off button much to your liking but as a friend of the poor soul, Sigma, you were forced to listen to him degrade you as he talks about how you were forced to be in this position, “-and you can sort of be my assistant’s assistant! Isn’t that fun? I’m sure you’re used to being a dog!!”

“In general? Or for him alone? Cause it definitely won’t be my first time being to him, in more than one way.”, you retorted with zero hesitation annoyed.

You heard a high pitch squeal from the two toned boy freaking out while the clown just blew a whistle.

TECCHOU;

“how lovely. I just might barf.”, Jouno growled at the sight of Tecchou sitting infront of him with a bowl of rice before him and a shaker of sugar in his hand.

You sat beside Tecchou waiting your meal to arrive, “honestly, I would rather see you eat rice with salt at least than sugar, how do you live with yourself? Also, we are eating out! So disrespectful to the chef!”

“I didn’t think he’d take it literally when I told him not to eat anything salty when he’s eating me out.”

you whispered these words so quiet that Tecchou couldn’t hear it but somehow the boy before him did.

“ name . In the nicest way, don’t even explain yourself because I don’t want to know.”

FYODOR;

Fyodor Dustoevsky, the most dangerous man unleashed in society, the man who views people as objects to use rather than a soul, the man who has the ability to unalive a human…

“I should’ve known a man can’t be both good in bed, enjoy classical ballet AND be a good person.” you mumbled those words to yourself alone.

You shocked yourself and looked around to see if anyone heard you and it seemed like no one did until you looked at the end of the table to see a certain detective stop nomming on his snacks at pause and stare at you.

Then he slowly smiled into the widest smile as if you told him you’d give him his favorite candy, “Buy me snacks for a month and no one knows your lewd secret!”

FUKUZAWA;

You didn't exactly work at the agency but if there was a need for a person on the field then you’d gladly join in.

Last night you spent a day at Fukuzawa’s place doing…stuff.

He invited you for a cup of wine and two like usual and like usual it ended up with something more, but what you weren’t expecting was the agency having an issue the next day and needing you to be present.

Like the reliable person you are, you went over to the agency and after the meeting, you were ready for your departure when Fukuzawa called out for you.

“You look tired and weak, do I…need to help you with anything?”

“Try being a little more gentle next time you’re drunk,”

Well, the entire agency was quiet, and that’s when you knew it was your queue to leave.

[angelsrcute]

Haloo :D im wondering if u r taking requests now but if u r can u write a fyodor with immortal female reader ? It would be wonderful if u can can but u can ignore this request if u want to

“ But can't you see my dear? I am your doppelganger ♡”

⌗ A LOVE IMMORTAL SUCH AS MINE, WILL COME TO ME, ETERNALLY. 𐙚˙⋆.˚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Immortal!Vampire!Fyodor + Sub!Immortal!Vampire!F!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, Jealous!Fyodor, Vampire themes, fwb → lovers, alcohol mentions, biting, unprotected sex + use of lube, tit play, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), slight Yandere!Fyodor(?), Soft!Fyodor.

꒰ † ੭ — this ended up being my longest fic ever, lol, 1.3k words!! I am taking reqs! + a lil inspiration from olgami, it's such a good webtoon. (人´∀`)♪ Translation: "Мышка" (myshka)

When humans age, they die and pass on to the afterlife, don't they? Death was something that never came to you, ah immortality, such a cool thing. It was more like a curse to you, humans coming and going, years passing by but still no one seemed to notice the same face walking among them for all these decades. Faces unrecognisable as you try to remember their names, their relation with you, not that it mattered anyway.

Relationships were a nuisance, blink and they're already gone, dead, as you stand in their funeral. It was a really funny thing, oh how you wished you could die instead of watching your loved ones die.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. Not a famous name for humans but for vampires, they say he's the oldest vampire to ever live. Have you ever met with him? You did, decades ago, in his bed, in his mansion, fyodor needed some relief and so did you.

He was the one who saved you from your death, why? Because he thought you were interesting. He'd take care of you and teach you how to hunt, how to kill people and make sure no one finds out. He seemed like a lonely man too, house deep in the woods, living all by himself.

The other vampires though, had this bloodlust, to kill him, to become the lord themselves. Everyone clawing at any chance they get, to paint their fingers red with his blood. You never understood their reasoning, what's so good living a life like this?

Dressed in the finest silk and jewelries, he liked seeing you in white clothing the most. He said it made you look like a saint, the saint that brought some change to his boring life. He definitely wasn't a fan of other vampires eyefucking you at meetings. Well, they'd end up going missing anyway.

Cleaning up after him was annoying, why did he have to be so busy? that also playing the piano as he drank wine. Blankly staring at the body in front of you as you clean the floor, muttering curses at him.

It didn't take long but you fell for him, yearning for his touches, but you could never confess, fearing it would ruin your relationship. Your body burning like fire as he kisses you, snapping his hips against you, dress ripped off and discarded on the floor.

“You liked that dress? I'll tell them to make one for you again, money isn't a problem for me.”

Cold slender fingers playing with your nipples as he decorates your neck with bite marks, drawing blood from them. Tongue darting out to lick the blood as he whispers about how sweet you taste to your ears. Your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes roll back from pleasure, his hands holding your leg up at this point.

Everything was going smoothly until one day he disappeared, without a single word. All the other vampires went crazy over this fact. Some were happy thinking he finally died, some just disappointed that they couldn't be the one killing him.

You returned to Russia after a lot of years, travelling all over the world, everything was different to you, with the years, technology also grew, like for instance, this human was staring into a phone. Bumping into you and not saying a single apology but they had the audacity to curse you instead, calling you blind.

Well, guess you just found yourself dinner, how lucky. Hiding the body with no effort, muttering to yourself “The world would be a little better without people like this.”

You went down an alley, there was a nice bar here, you remembered. Entering it, you took a seat after ordering your favourite drink. From the corner of your eyes, you could see a stranger coming up to you, sitting beside you, “I've never seen you around here, darling, do you need some help? I know a really nice place around here–”

The man went on rambling about nonsense, poor attempts at flirting, and why is he even talking about himself, you don't remember asking. Quietly sipping on your drink as you ignored the stranger. The stranger, though, seemed offended, “Hey I'm talking to you, whore, if you don't want attention, dress up more!”

Now that part really got on your nerves, what were you supposed to wear, a long ass winter jacket? You could just pretend to play along and just kill this guy, not even interested in drinking his blood! But someone else's voice stopped you, a voice too fucking familiar.

It was none other than fyodor, you watched as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you by his side, eyes narrowing at the stranger with a smile, “It's really rude to flirt with someone's lover, don't you think? You'll walk away from here and remember nothing.” The guy on command, got up and left the bar, the people in the surrounding, definitely didn't care.

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Мышка.” He chuckled, as if he just met you yesterday and not decades ago.

“What the fuck? Where the hell were you for all these years!?” You shouted at him, burning a hole into his face with your glare, “Of course I'm surprised, am I not supposed to be when you appear like that? God!”

“Let's discuss it somewhere private, shall we? I know a hotel nearby.” You hated how composed he seemed to be, but still followed him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“I was a bit hurt, dear, why didn't you tell the man to leave? or were you interested?” He asked while sitting down on the bed.

“Is that what we're talking about? Give me an explanation, fyodor, where the hell were you?”

“A bit busy, don't mind me, I had business that needed to be taken care of.”

“That's it? You could've at least told me a goodbye! or sent letters.”

“Ah, but that would give away my location, wouldn't it? I didn't want any disturbances, but enough about me, where were you? I couldn't find you in my mansion.”

“I was travelling, and I did not see a point in staying there if you weren't there but you really had me worried, you know?” You sighed, sitting beside him.

Well this was supposed to be meeting up with a past ‘friend’. So why did this turn into a fucking session? According to a certain someone, he wanted to make up for his mistakes!

Currently between your thighs, lapping up your folds like he hadn't eaten in years, savouring the taste like it was his favorite meal. He teased your clit with his tongue, gently flicking it, before sucking it into his mouth. Your moans and whines were music to his ear, he could feel you were close, his tongue speeding up to make you cum.

“F-fuck…gonna cum–” You stammered before cumming, lewd slurping sounds filling the room before getting up and kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. A string of saliva joining your tongue after he breaks the kiss, he definitely likes seeing you like this— face flushed, hair disheveled, neck decorated by pretty hickeys by him.

You don't remember what round it was, all you can feel is the way he keeps fucking his cum back in your cunt. Sweat glistening on your body as you can't help but let out whimpers due to overstimulation, “T-Too much, fedya…slow down–”

“I'm sure you can cum for me again, my dear.”

He kisses your tear soaked face while rubbing soothing circles on your clit to calm you down. You pull him closer to kiss again, running your hands through his soft hair before he cums in you for the last time and pulls out.

Fyodor runs you a warm bath and then puts you on the bed, climbing in to cuddle with you, well, such a memorable get together isn't it?

Taglist: @blueberrisdove

[kentopedia]

seeds of doubt

ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

summary — you don't feel like you’re good enough for them

contents — they comfort you when you’re feeling insecure about your relationship, sfw !!

notes — my other dazai wip is taking a while, so i decided to finish this one! i started it a few wks ago but since i’ve been feeling a lil down lately, i decided it was time for a comfort piece!

₊˚⊹♡ DAZAI

when you'd come home from work that evening, dazai had already known something was wrong. your usually bright smile didn't quite reach your eyes, your shoulders slumping the moment you crossed the threshold of your home.

dazai hadn't pushed you, but he had drawn you up tight in his arms, held you close when you breathed heavily into his shoulder, releasing all the tension in your body. his fingertips were soothing along your neck, massaging small, relaxing circles.

for the past hour, though it was nearing dinnertime, you'd found yourself buried in blankets, so warmly entangled with him, even when all of your hypercritical thoughts threatened to chill you to the core.

dazai spoke to you softly, asking you questions about your day for a while, ones that you refused to answer. you kept your eyes glued to the screen, watching mindlessly as a movie played, one that neither of you were paying any attention to.

that continued on for as long as he could stand it.

finally, with a sigh, dazai paused the film. he shifted, turning so that you were both face to face, his long limbs twisting around your own. limbs that were always so solid and warm, despite the iciness of his hands.

"kunikida told me what you said."

hesitantly, you stared back with wide eyes, jaw clenching. already, you knew what dazai was talking about. it was something that you'd told kunikida in confidence, because of all the members of the agency, you'd been certain that he was the least likely to spill your true feelings.

you stared back at him blankly, your shoulders stiffening. "hm? we talked a lot today. i'm not sure i know—"

though you pretended not to remember, dazai didn't let you run away from the question.

his lips fell into a frown, unamused. he drew your name out on an exhale, before running his palm over your cheek, across your chin, dipping his fingers into your hair. "don't bother. he's already mad enough at himself for telling me, but he hated how upset you were about it."

"osamu," you began. "i don't—"

"why did you tell him that you think you're not good enough for me?"

the seriousness in his deep brown eyes was so different than his usual playfulness, and you almost withdrew from them, curving deeper into yourself.

though, alongside the stoicism of his expression was something so melancholy, you found yourself offering your unfiltered emotions instead.

a long pause ensued. you breathed.

"because it's true," you finally whispered, your words wispy. "i'm not good enough for you, osamu." you swallowed when his face fell even further. "you're so smart, so handsome. you make me laugh all the time." your eyes grew hot as you felt tears at the edges of them. "i'm so plain compared to you."

"plain?" he repeated back, so wildly upset that you found yourself at a loss for words. "how can you say that, any of that, when i'm the one that's not good enough for you?"

despite yourself, you cracked a smile at his overzealous need to change the narrative. "don't say that just to make me feel better.”

"i'm not.” he frowned, his lips puckering as he held your cheeks, elongating each of the letters. "you're beautiful. inside and out. in a way that i can never be." he kissed the tip of your nose, smiling as you swatting him away. "i'm certainly not funny to everyone, either. i make you laugh only because i love you, and i want to see you smile." he kissed you between the eyebrows, then, this time laughing when the skin wrinkled there. "and i'm smart because i have to be, because i don't want to see the people i care about get hurt if i can do something to stop it." his expression softened at your glossy eyes, the way you slowly melted under his touch.

you let the words sink in, each one slowly chipping away at the doubt that had clouded you. dazai had never looked at you with anything but adoration in his eyes, something he spared for you and you alone, even when you felt unworthy of it.

"you could have anyone you wanted, osamu,” you said, the honest truth twisting something deep within you. “anyone at all.”

"funny," he said, tilting his head as he studied you carefully. "i've always thought the same thing about you."

₊˚⊹♡ CHUUYA

“i’m home,” you heard chuuya shout down the hall. he was always careful to alert you of his presence every time he returned, never wanting you to fear that his enemies had found his home, leaving you vulnerable.

you sniffed, some form of acknowledgement as you swirled the alcohol in the glass, pouring it down your throat. it burned on the way down, a buzz already at the edge of your mind, your thoughts slowing as you it sank into your bloodstream.

chuuya didn’t say anything more as he came into the room, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his hat and coat. there was a healed cut running down his left arm, a cluster of bruises on his left.

even though he’d gone on a dangerous mission earlier, he’d come home relatively unscathed.

despite your endless relief, it only did more to fuel your insecurities, the knowledge that compared to all his infinite glory, you were a lackluster, powerless no one.

you poured another glass, unbeknownst to the fact that chuuya was speaking to you at all.

“what?” you turned, the word slurring; you weren’t even sure what set of syllables had left your lips at all.

chuuya made a face as your head plopped down on the table, your eyes red from the tears you'd expelled. “is something wrong? it’s a little early for this, isn’t it?”

you stared at him, and though he was amused, you turned away, feeling the sour emotion of doubt lodge deep in your chest. “no,” you said in a small voice, turning away from chuuya.

he paused for a moment, his expression sobering before he took the seat next to you. chuuya held out a gloved hand, one that you could only see from your peripheral vision. “you expect me to believe that?”

“nothing’s wrong, chuuya,” you muttered, as sharply as you could in your current state. your arm grew numb under the weight of your head, throat sore from your earlier sobs. “i’m fine.”

chuuya sighed and took the bottle from you. even as you protested, every inch of his expression was so caring and delicate.

“that’s how i know you’re not fine.” he ran a hand over your hair, flattening it as you looked up at him from under wet eyelashes. “please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t like to see you sad, baby.”

though you wanted desperately to keep your mouth shut, you were too drunk to hold in the words. you leaned into his touch, letting the tears roll down your cheeks once more as panic grew in chuuya's eyes.

“i just think you deserve someone better than me, chuuya."

his brow wrinkled, and he blinked twice before shaking his head, puzzled. “what?”

you buried your head further into your forearms, unable to look at him any longer. despite your embarrassment, your lips didn't stop moving, releasing every little secret you'd bottled up since you'd met him

“you deserve someone you don’t have to worry about every time you’re away." you swallowed. "i’m not strong like you, chuuya, i don’t have any special ability that can save me from enemies." you thought of all the people he worked with, all of the ability users in the city that could compliment him so perfectly. "someone out there is a perfect match for you… i just don't think it's me.” you looked back at him, with teary, red eyes, right into his own sullen ones.

he scoffed, but his expression was gentle, open, fingers curling delicately around your wrist. "well, you're certainly wrong about that."

you curled yourself into a ball, resisting him, looking down at his knees instead of his eyes.

“none of that matters to me. i love you just the way you are. even if you were the strongest in the whole world, i'd still do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you rubbed your cheeks, frowning as chuuya began reeling you in, grabbing you by the wrist to tug you onto his lap. “chuuya..." you said, hesitating as he planted you on his thighs, lips pulled tight in complete sincerity as he spoke his next words.

“i don’t care about anyone else. they could have all the power in the world, and it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t be you." he held you steady, one hand on your hip as he let the other caress your cheek gently. "i'll never want anyone else, okay?"

you nodded, though the sadness didn't dispel so easily from your face.

chuuya sighed, offering you as much of a smile as he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be a magic solution to cheer you up. "i'll remind you every day if i have to."

₊˚⊹♡ FYODOR

your hands curled in the water, tracing patterns throughout the soap and bubbles as your thoughts consumed you. it was just after midnight, but you'd woken up alone in your bed, full of thoughts that seemed determined to convince you that you'd never be enough.

though you'd gotten better at dispelling those dismal emotions, they dug their claws in deep this time. you'd crawled out of the cold sheets and drawn yourself a bath, hopeful that it would clear your mind.

fyodor had disappeared, and you weren't sure if he was in another room or if he had left your home completely.

it was quiet, but that told you little; he was always so silent, sneaking up on you with footsteps that never made a sound.

the door creaked open not a moment later, as if he had heard your thoughts. you didn't look over at him, but he sat beside the tub, his slender fingers curling over the porcelain.

"is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft in the dim bathroom, illuminated only by candles and moonlight. "it's late."

you hummed, and contemplated voicing your thoughts at all. but you were half asleep, drowsy, and it didn't seem to matter what you said. the feelings would still be there, whether you voiced them or not.

still, you hesitated. "am i enough for you?"

you spared him a glance, and his eyes were wide, surprised by your simple question. a brief pause, before he answered, almost gently. "have i made you feel that you are not?"

you leaned your head against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint, the uneven texture.

"i sometimes wonder if i'm just a hindrance to your plans." you breathed, thoughtful as he waited for you to finish. "i feel that maybe you'd be better off without me."

fyodor said nothing as you laid in the water, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. quietly, he discarded his clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he climbed into the tub to sit across from you.

he whispered your name once, but you remained silent, breathing in and out, trying to calm your mind.

"would you look at me?” fyodor asked, and the softness in his words was enough.

you sat up, pulling your legs closer to make space for him, even though he held your calf, drew himself towards you instead.

"you know that i do not make decisions lightly, and yet, i decided to share my heart and soul with you." he caressed your knee before letting his hand fall into the water, tracing patterns around your shin. you shivered. "do you really think i would have devoted my time to you if i ever intended on letting you go? if i didn't need you?"

"i know." you frowned, fully aware that it was true, to the deepest part of your soul. still, there was an ache in your mind, one that wouldn’t just go away with his pretty words. "but i can't help the way i sometimes feel."

fyodor smiled, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners. "i know," he said, and when he had you close, he dipped his head to kiss your bare shoulder. "but you do not need to hide that from me. i am here for you, always." he squeezed your hand. "i apologize if i am not always the best at showing that."

his touch was cold in the exposed bathroom air. "and when you achieve your goals, what will become of me? will you dispose of me, along with everyone else who stops being of used to you?"

"of course not." a laugh escaped him, like your question was unfathomable. "even then, you will be right by my side." he held your jaw tenderly as he forced you to look deep into his eyes. "you are mine forever, don't you understand? just as i am yours.”

dash is a teensy bit dead rn, but i want to let this one go so i can focus on my other wips <3. this was so nice to write though :))

[grimm-writings]

rainfall

…ft! dazai, chuuya, fyodor x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, some hurt/comfort on dazai’s, headcanon format, rainy day off with the boys!

…wc! 308 ; 369 ; 345 = 1022 

…notes! i don’t think i’ve ever seen fluffy idiot content of fyodor. i must rectify this.

Dazai

Dazai treasures rainy days more than anything.

“Oops sorry Kunikida, I can’t come in to work!!! Rain is just sooo heavy you know?”

The office is literally down the block he’s just not bothered

Who needs work when he has his beautiful partner?!

That’s what he whispers to you with a giggle and a grin as he nuzzles into your back.

Most times, that’s all it really comes to: a sleepy Dazai, cute compliments, and being lovingly held against your will.

Other days, it isn’t so easy.

He’s like a rock. The only notion you have that he’s awake is one of his eyes staring at the window outside, at the rain.  He doesn’t even message about his absence in advance this time – that’s up to you.

He isn’t as snuggly, but he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him and holding him.

Eating isn’t exactly something on his mind on these sort of days.  Even with that in mind, he’s always sure to quietly thank you when you hand-feed him meals.

Those days are difficult, but you make them easier.

“You have work today, right?  Don’t bother with the dishes,” Dazai calls out to you from the bedroom.  The clattering of the porcelain couldn’t exactly be hidden, you admit. Dazai sighs as you continue washing and drying.  New weight on the bed behind him makes him aware of your presence a few minutes later.  Your arms wrap around him without hesitation. “You don’t have to stay,” he says to you when the silence becomes too much for him. You merely snuggle further into his bandaged body.  “Yeah.  I want to, though.” To his own surprise, Dazai relaxes into your touch and words. “...Well.”  He smiles for the first time all day, softly, and his eyes linger up to the rainfall again.  “If you say so.”

Chuuya

Days off are all too rare in Chuuya’s line of work.

As soon as he’s free, he’s tiredly at your side, and he is not leaving.

Seriously he is … so clingy when he’s tired.  Whether you’re shorter or taller than him, prepare for his arms to be slung over your shoulders and his face in your hair.

Mention it to him and he’s grumbling all crabby lol.

You’ll have to wake up in the mornings to his work clothes sloppily discarded throughout the hallway to your room.  He wanted to conk out STAT.

He insists he’ll pick it up later (when he’s getting dressed for work again)

Rainy days aren’t exactly anything that stops him from working, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to call in for a day off once in a while.  He can almost hear the smile on Mori’s face over the phone telling him to enjoy it.

He’s fairly average at cooking when he eventually does get up, maybe sometime in early afternoon.  If he’s too sleepy though?  …Yeah, keep him away from the heat.

Overall, it feels… super domestic having these free days with him.  He wouldn’t mind this every day, if the opportunity presents itself.

If you knew you’d be greeted to this, you would have woken up a little earlier to at least catch him. “Mornin’!”  Chuuya leans back against the kitchen counter, breakfast on the table between you two.  A tired smirk is on his face, proud of his cooking.  Simply dressed in his work shirt and his boxers, the look of him is just too much for you to handle right now. You walk over to give him a small peck on the cheek, thanking him gently.  As you eat, wondering what it’d be like if he could make you breakfast every morning, you glance up and point a fork at him. “After this, I want some snuggles for at least another hour.” Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from scoffing playfully at your ‘threat’, resting his chin on his palm.  “Well… I’ll see what I can do.” You smile, digging back into your food.  You know he wouldn’t let you go once you’re back under covers.

Fyodor

It all started with you judgementally asking if he even has a life outside his work.

You didn’t expect him to get so offended, but his glance over and raised eyebrow gave you all you needed to know about his answer.

The next morning, you didn’t expect to actually have him be beside you as you shake slumber off you.  He’s almost always at his computer by the time you’re up.

It’s not as if Fyodor is neglectful in any way, he’s just … a little peculiar in his habits, for lack of any nicer terms.

Before you could even ask, he’s already greeting you in a gentle voice, tacking on a sweet nickname on the end of it.

Oh.  Oh he was awake the whole time.

This is a competition to him.

You could almost sigh in disbelief.  For someone supposedly so intelligent and wise, he sure has his moments.

Rainy days with Fyodor are spent with him suggesting activities to do together, but it’s very obvious he just put “at home activities” in the search bar and clicked the first link.

You don’t remember having this many board games.  How did he do this.

The night comes to a close as Fyodor sits with you in his lap, finishing up some professionally recorded opera of sorts.  You couldn’t understand half of it, but Fyodor laughed at it a few times, so it must have been good.  His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his smile. “So, did I prove you wrong?” “...What, about having a life?”  You can’t help but roll your eyes.  “You sure proved something alright.” Fyodor hums, sarcasm dripping from just that single note.  “You should treat me more fairly.  I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” You would bite back with another retort, if not for Fyodor twisting his neck so he could peck your lips before resting back against the chair. Trying to ignore the flush of your cheeks, you sigh.  “You’ll get it with practice.” “Ah, so there IS a next time.” “Shut it.”