#dostoevsky x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saelique · 4 days

Text

chapter one. ignorance is bliss

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノ dark content・character death・graphic descriptions of gore + blood・mentions of nausea・reader implied to have put fyodor on a pedestal・overall kinda not suitable 4 all audiences・12- are highly recommended to not interact

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈・⟡・┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 the library floor as two children sat behind a bookcase, reading a novel together.

the evening light shone through the window and the sun prepared to set. but the two were still immersed in their own fairytale world, away from reality.

the boy whispered the words in the book, while the girl turned its pages, the sound of paper repeatedly flipping every few minutes gently was comforting.

it was really the perfect spot to relax. the perfect amount of golden light and it was warm in the late autumn season, where leaves began to turn yellow, red, and orange. leaving trees bare and naked.

“so what happened next ?” the little girl urged when he paused for breath, pressing closer to her friend to try and read the printed foreign words on the book. “be patient.” he gently scolded, but all the same continued the fairytale.

“the prince then went on a far, far journey to search for his beloved, and he suddenly-“

three knocks on the door. “young master ? your dinner is almost ready, please come out to the dining room to eat.” a maid called through the wooden door. and the children were brought back to reality, the fairytale world fading away once again.

“eh ? already ?” the girl sighs, her lips forming into a pout. “I’ll read the rest of the story for you soon. so don’t worry, okay ?” the boy reassured. “I’ll be back soon. so feel free to keep on reading, okay ?” he reached over and ruffled his companion’s hair lightly, messing it up.

“hmph ! you better keep your promise !” “of course.” and with that, he left, leaving the girl alone in the library.

years passed, and autumn passed and winter stopped by, snowflakes falling down rapidly. truly a shame that the young master couldn’t go outside to play in the snow. after all, he was too sickly a child to even move too much.

the Dostoevsky family was truly one that is easy to pity. a frail and ill heir, a absent father that was away for work, almost never home, and a mother that lost her own mind and even called her own child the devil.

you blew your hot breath against the ice frosted window and drew shapes on it, small hearts and stars.

it was freezing today, and fyodor was most likely in bed, having yet another high temperature fever.

you missed the crisp days where you two would just sit down and read books together. it was a wonderful thing to experience, and you sometimes fell asleep on his shoulder, his voice lulling you to rest after a long day of cleaning and helping to tend to him.

Slowly, the snow melted away, leaving the earth to slowly grow back its plants and flowers. spring had finally arrived. the birds sang happily, their songs cheerful and pretty.

time passed and from a little girl who ran around and hid away from her chores, you turned into a mature yet aloof young maid, always forgetting about her duties.

you changed, while Fyodor stayed the same. he was still the calm, collected, mature and reliable young master he always was.

you thought he was perfect, with his pale and soft skin, pretty magenta eyes who would soften whenever he sees things he likes, pure black hair that was left quite long, and a slender figure.

you always thought that he would look beautiful as a girl, and you did tell him once.

you remember him staring at you in shock before gently patting your head. “I suppose I would.” he agreed, and returned back to reading his book while you left his room after giving him his medication that the doctor prescribed a while ago.

you really did think he was perfect.

running a orphanage for the less fortunate children, going out for visits when he could in town, a popular social figure.

but that very image of him shattered like fragile glass, breaking into millions of little pieces, never able to piece or fix again.

Because you had witnessed him push down a new maid down the stairs.

it happened too quickly, in a flash. So much so you still cant believe if you dreamt of it or not. they were both just chatting by the stairs, the maid blushing and giggling while tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.

then she was shoved down, the sounds of a heavy object dropping down the floor. red painted the wooden steps, some of it slowly dripping down the steps, creating a gorey sight.

you felt your blood turn ice cold and sweat ran down your face, hands and neck, swallowing your saliva before running away, suppressing the blood curdling scream that was itching your throat, before quickly shoving the apron you were wearing into your mouth, you rushed back to your room as quietly as possible, trying to process what just happened moments prior.

digging your nails into the palm of your hand hard, creating small crescent moons as you shook and trembled, teeth chattering as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear the horrible, horrible image that imprinted on your mind.

you quickly breathed in and out, feeling as if your heart would burst out of your chest, dizziness and a headache starting to form.

was that really the same person who would read you fairytales and laugh at your horrible jokes ? who would constantly cover up for you ?

you wanted to throw up, a feeling of unease and a feeling of nausea in your stomach as you lurched, instinctively slapping your hand to your mouth as you shuddered.

you should really stop thinking so much about this.

clumsily getting up from your cowering position from the floor with the help of leaning on your bed, you managed to stumble through the door and leave, making sure that no one saw your disheveled and nervous form

making your way to the garden with a little trouble, you arrived there with a sigh.

“[name] ! c’mon ! help me with these weeds !” svetlana called, snapping you out of your dazed trance, holding a basket of weeds, her hands sore and red from the pulling.

“hm ? you look really sickly [name] are you okay ?” svetlana asked, worried as she placed the back of her hand to your head, staring at your complexion.

“n-no- I- uhm- well- I-“ you stuttered over your words as you felt tears almost threatening to spill over, biting your lower lip.

“wha-? hey, hey, it’s okay [name], calm down/ I’ll fetch-“

“maybe she’s suffering from heatstroke ?”

a cool and kind voice interrupted the both of you. you stiffened, your pupils dialating as you shakily turned your head to reveal who you wanted to avoid the most.

“hello, surprised to see me ?”

he smiled, one that radiated of innocence and kindness. one that made you sick to your core. how many times had he attempted murder ? how many people had he killed ? judging by his act, it wasn’t his first one. Fyodor then coughed into his handkerchief. A few droplets of blood on it that was most likely his.

oh god what if you were next ?

you had to live. you can’t die yet. you didn’t even get the chance to go to the capital and have fun. and that romance novel you’ve been reading, how many chapters have you read ? oh yeah. you just started ! and the plot twist ! you’ve been saving it for days !

“oh ! young master ? aren’t you supposed to be in bed ? and I suppose . . . today is a hot day after all.” she sighed, before gently taking your arm. “mmm, stay safe you two. thank you for working hard today as well. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he went off to god knows where. Probably to hide any evidence leading to him.

“I’ll bring you a wet cloth, how about that ?” svetlana kindly suggested, while you sat there in silence.

the day ended with you in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. you ended up finding that corpse again with svetlana when the both of you headed to your room. Only when you saw that body this time did you let out the scream that was begging to be heard. you kept on shaking, seeing the mass amounts of blood and and everyone ended up concluding that it was a accident. that maid had quite a reputation for being clumsy after all.

you sighed and closed your eyes, letting sleep catch up with you and catch you in its embrace.

you woke up hyperventaling. tears streaming down your face and sweat clinging onto your nightclothes. it was still too early, with the sun only starting to rise and the dark night sky fading to a lighter colour. Your heart thumping more and more as you tried to take deep breathes in.

Who knew dreaming of being murdered would feel so real and scary ? the time for you to head up to his room arrived and as you took the tray, the feeling of nausea filled you. you wanted to tell someone, to confine in someone close like svetlana.

but no one would believe you. you couldn’t even believe it yourself. now every trip to deliver him medicine was only going to petrify you, your legs shaking as the floorboards creaked and twisted under your steps.

the only reasonable thing to do was to avoid him of course. but how long could you keep this up without him noticing. his eyes that usually provided you comfort now only added to your paranoia, that he would one day decide to murder you.

why would he even kill you though ? there wasn’t any reason to kill that maid after all. she never made any trouble or inconvenienced anyone. so, what was his goal ?

you shuddered as you walked up the stairs. it was best to feign ignorance. then run the fuck away from this hell hole the second you gathered enough money.

ignorance truly was bliss wasn’t it ?

you were so going to shoot yourself in the head if you see another goddamn murder again. holding the tray tightly, you placed it down the floor and knocked.

“young master ?” you gulped, “I’ll leave your medicine here. I’ll go now.” drawing in a sharp breath, you ran away as fast as you could, before he had the chance to open the door or reply.

you needed to get out this place quickly before you get killed in the worst way possible. and fast.

“hm ? she already left ?” a young man muttered, before bending over to pick up the tray that was placed on the floor. “she didn’t see what happened yesterday . . . right ?”

“I’ll have to kill her before she tells anyone then. just to be safe . . .”

just be wary and be on your fight or flight mode at all times, okay ?

#౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ : novels !#bsd x reader #Fyodor x reader #dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd x reader angst #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor

50 notes · View notes

ayvi · 2 years

Text

Note:how would the characters behave if they fell in love with you (Dazai, Chuya, Akutagawa, Atsushi, Fedor)

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of guy who won't hide that he's in love with you. And yet there are a couple of differences. Dazaya to you from other girls. The very first thing is that he does not offer you to commit double suicide, because in you he saw the meaning of life for which he wants to continue living. But 1000 and 1 complement are provided for you every day. Osamu is very eloquent, so you've only heard such beautiful words about yourself in romance novels. And of course who became your new partner? Naturally Dazai! At first, no one wanted to put him as a partner with you, "They say the girl will now start to roll up and offer double suicide again," but the brown-haired man is smarter and knew that everyone would have such doubts. So he arranged everything so that everyone could see that next to you he is completely immersed in work and does not shirk. He even left suicide attempts.Having become your permanent partner, he gradually began to get closer to you and drive away, of course, cute guys. And even if you asked about "is he jealous of you?" Dazai will answer honestly that yes, he is really jealous because he loves.

Chuya Nakahara Chuya, unlike his former partner, cannot immediately declare that he is in love with you. For him it is…difficult. And then Someone comes to help him, who helps the red-haired mafia in love affairs. Eloquence at Nakahara is worse than Osamu. Well, it doesn't work out for him to compose such beautiful words that could win the heart of any girl. But Chuya will not stint on gifts. Everything is best only for you alone, and the price tag does not matter. And probably every girl dreams of riding around the night city on a motorcycle with a handsome guy cuddling up to him. Well, being his assistant (not without the help of Someone), you are constantly with him and he has a chance to get to know you better and expose himself in all his glory. The main thing Not to meet Dazai, otherwise his plan will be doomed to complete failure…

Atsushi Nakajima

Yes, the poor boy has a hard time. Atsushi doesn't have the eloquence of Dazai, a lot of money like Chuya, and his embarrassment also plays a role. And his colleagues come to his aid, who see the suffering of the guy and decide to help him. Although I caught myself most of all Naomi, who is just a master in love affairs, and she is only happy to know that she will bring you to Nakajima. So romantic walks, modest and inexpensive gifts and compliments with a stutter and a huge blush on your cheeks will definitely be provided for you. Well, as a consequence, the tiger is also your partner and this is not only for the sake of being closer to you, but also to protect you. The poor kitten's heart is torn by the mere thought that you have been hurt. But it would be better for you to admit it, otherwise Atsushi will delay it for a month, or even a year. Because he's afraid you'll reject him.

Akutagawa Ryunoske

It is very difficult with this guy, because at first he completely denies the fact that he is in love with you and tries to drive away thoughts about you. He will even try to contact you as little as possible, you see, this love will pass and everything will return to its course. However, if this does not help, then he will have to come to terms with this fact, no matter how much he does not want it. And yet it does not make the task easier, because Ryunosuke is far from a romantic person and even has no idea how to take care of a girl. Plus, his reputation in the mafia and throughout the city will also play a significant role. Fortunately, his sister comes to the rescue, who began to explain to him what to do. However, the guy refused compliments and gifts. Either his pride or his reputation does not allow him. However, the owner of the black cloak has become your number 1 protector. On any task, you are always with him and do not move away from him, and you are not allowed to participate in a fight with a couple at all. Well, the guy accompanies you home, hiding behind the fact that it's late and such a "weakling" as you can find adventures for one place.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

In order for a guy to understand what kind of feeling was born in him, it takes some time, because before you, Fedor did not experience such feelings as love, infatuation or even sympathy. His whole life revolved around the creation of a sinless world. However, fate decided to interfere a little with his plans. And when Dostoevsky realizes and accepts his feelings, he begins to act. First, he needs to fully learn about you, because information about your favorite colors and other things will not be superfluous. And then the demon slowly begins to get closer to you. Then you will go to the misia together, then he offers to drink tea together to beautiful music. And at first glance, it's hard to tell if Fedor is in love with you or if it's just a sign of attention as a valuable employee. And yet, when they give you flowers and say very eloquent compliments, you can no longer say that they see you as a valuable and good employee. And this will continue for at least 2-3 weeks, and then the guy confesses his feelings to you. Unless you beat him to it, of course.

488 notes · View notes

fortheharbingers · 2 years

Text

– into the night

♤ characters: fem!dazai, fem!dostoevsky, gn!you

♤ wc: 1.3k

♤ cw: suggestive content, vampires au, biting and hickeys, mentions of blood, just being sandwiched between two pretty girls 🥰

♤ a/n: in world of darkness/vampire the masquarade lore, a vampire's 'kiss' has aphrodisiac-like effects, something i wanted to add/include to this drabble.

It must be far late into the night, or you assume so.

There is not much of an opportunity to tell the time aside from the grand clocks around the mansion, and opening the curtains to take a peek outside is out of the question.

It must be some time into the night, because they are awake and kicking, not literally.

Not the first hours of the night sky darkening, or the stars appearing one by one, because you have spotted Dazai stroll in the halls in all her beige glory, the fabric of her clothes sway and follow, the end of the tail draping over the steps as she goes down the stairs.

When she wakes up from her deep slumber, it is an event in and of itself. A process of getting out of her coffin, get prepared for the day, try to find her way back in and drag one of you with her, clingy and a little moody, sleep written all over her pretty face.

This version of hers is one of your favorites if you say so yourself. Her expressions, her weak grips on you so innocent, so naive and harmless– nothing like the woman standing behind you now.

It is a good chunk of hours into the night and not morning, because Dostoevskaya isn’t away in her chambers, working on her newest projects, wrapped in one of the shawls you’ve insisted she keeps on as she works– even for a vampire, she is always abnormally cold.

Instead, she is here, right before you, a hand cradling your face, seizing up your expressions, a primal instinct written clear as day in her eyes.

Even if this was your first day– night with these nocturnal beasts, the rulers of the night, you could still tell it is night time without a hitch– it is clear from the hunger in their eyes.

Cold fingers trailing patterns on your skin, Dazai’s breath fawning over the nape of your neck, you can see Dostoevskaya’s eyes glint as she eyes how lovely and full of life your carotid artery looks. Moving with each pressure, each beating of your heart, up and down with each pumping of your warm, thick, crimson red blood– you see her licking her lips instinctively.

Has she not fed enough the day before?

Despite the situation, the position, you are in, you cannot help but be concerned at the possibility.

“My, my, what’s with the face? Getting anxious now?” Dazai coos right by your ear, her breath lacking the warmth a human should possess.

You can feel every breath you take in and out, your chest barely moving against Dostoevskaya’s, with Dazai’s chest pressed against your back, you can feel even the tiniest shift in her stance.

Tilting your head to the side to get a glimpse of her, your eyes meet Dazai’s.

“What makes you say that?” you reply with a question, only to be answered with her hands tightening their hold on your hips.

“What kind of question is that?” she chuckles, “your body tells me enough.” she says as she leans into the conjecture point of your neck and shoulder.

“The way your shoulders tense,” she begins as she places a kiss there, you cannot help but shudder at the contact of her lips.

“How your pulse quickens,” Dostoevskaya speaks up, letting her hand drop by your neck, caressing your pulse with her thumb, “how your pupils dilate,” she adds as she leans in towards you.

“How your breath hitches even at our smallest of touches,” Dazai says inbetween kisses, going up with each word, with each kiss, lips grazing against the shell of your earlobe.

“How warm your body gets for us so easily, that tingling feeling spreading all over your body from the pit of your stomach–”

Her vacant hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up, allowing space for herself on your neck.

“You wouldn’t think it’d escape our notice how you bring your thighs together, begin averting our gazes after a while–”

The hands holding you in spot by the hips begin to rub circles into your skin, nails sinking into your flesh with each passing second.

Dostoevskaya’s tongue cold against your skin, Dazai’s teeth nibbling on your ear and soon their words turn into whispers, become blurred, just a background noise and nothing else in your ears.

Though hearing is out of commission, your remaining senses are intact, sensitive for each stroke, each drag of tongue, nails leaving crescents in their stead– all you can feel, smell, see and taste in the air are them.

Teasing touches and kneading fingers, the wetness in the wake of their kisses and before you can be lost further into the pleasure, into feeling them all around you, your sense of self jolts awake at the sudden intrusion, that stinging feeling at both sides of your neck.

It always begins with a sudden thrill you feel throughout your body as they sink in their teeth into your neck.

Similar to how Dazai likes to leave kisses, innocent, humane kisses, the feeling of their teeth is closer to it.

Fangs sunk in, teeth latched onto your skin, always with the intention of more than just feeding, of pleasure– theirs and yours, but more importantly theirs.

The momentary pain is quickly followed by a feeling of numbness and euphoria in its wake always, leaving you melting into their hold, their touch, their beings, offering all of you to them.

Soon the ghostly touches begin to warm up, their faces gaining color– on the nights they are greedier, or you are more generous; even a tint of pink adorning their faces.

So beautiful, is all your brain can muster.

A loss of warmth from one side, and before you can even inquire, Dazai’s lips find their way back, kissing over the spot she got a taste of just now, licking over the bite marks left behind her fangs.

A lick, and a kiss, and another one you feel much stronger– each kiss deepening, open mouthed, the pressure increases, crossing over the line between a kiss and a bite.

The bite mark they open as they feed may disappear quicker, but Dazai always nibbles on your skin afterwards, her kisses growing hungrier, biting with the intention of marking, of stroking over the marks of red and purple for later, of making you stand in front of a mirror and see each blossoming mark for yourself.

Dostoevskaya always takes her time with you. Never losing herself to the rush of the moment, nor the hunger. Letting the taste of your blood swirl on her tongue, savoring each and every drop.

Barely aware of the arm you’ve raised, of your hand tangled in her hair, slowly stroking, bringing closer to you–

Once content, she retreats from your neck for a moment, eying Dazai, then the marks she left behind.

Kissing over the marks, she allows herself to listen to the noises you’ve started making. Whimpering between them, little gasps leaving your mouth every time Dazai bites into your skin, leaving another hickey behind, how you cannot help but let out a small moan when Dostoevskaya joins in then.

A hand still on your jaw, the other stroking your side, her kisses are more precise, lighter, increasing in amount on the spots that get you louder and hotter.

With each kiss, she can feel your restrain weaken, logic long left your body, how you are letting go of control, leaving your body into their hands.

Driven purely from pleasure, and the numbing feeling of a vampire’s kiss, you have even given up on standing, you poor thing.

It’s not an issue though, when they press into you from front and back, hoisting you up without needing to use their hands.What was that human saying again? The night is still young.

#nova writes<3 #gender neutral reader #vampire x reader #genderbend #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #Bungou stray dogs smut #dazai smut #dazai osamu smut #dazai x reader #Dostoevsky smut #Dostoevsky x reader

274 notes · View notes

underpaidimmortal · 9 months

Text

something something breaching containment

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #ranpoe #soukoku #fyodor dostoevsky #btw if anyone can find the fyodor x reader post i will put it here

26K notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 4 months

Text

That's what he called "love".

Permission to repost was granted by the artist. Here is their TikTok page.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #yandere fyodor

2K notes · View notes

coolyiooo · 5 months

Text

BSD Men : When They Have A Wet Dream About You

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

❗WARNINGS❗: SMUT, MDNI, wet dream, breeding kink, moaning, masturbating, arousal, groaning, moaning, public, praise and etc

Summary :They all start off with the wet dreams. They simply just have a huge crush on you

🖤DAZAI🖤

It would've been another normal day at the office if it weren't for you jumping on his cock. Nobody else was in the office, but anybody could've walked in at any moment. Dazai was sitting on his chair while you straddled his lap. Your tight walls were soaking his cock. You felt like heaven. If he relaxed even a little, he would cum instantly. He had to try his best to hold it in.

He couldn't help but moan and whimper. One of his hands was gripping onto your ass and the other was on your clothed breast. Your hands were messing up his hair and clenched tightly on his shoulders. Your moans made it hard for him to hold himself back from bending you over his desk. He wanted to fuck you vigorously.

"How were you worried about getting caught if your moaning this loudly~? Ngh~! So tight~" he moans

"I can't hold on much longer~ mmn~! god, I've never felt this good, Dazai~" you moaned

When you moaned his name, he almost came right then and there. He felt his orgasm and he was feeling a bit desperate. Using his hands, he made your hips move faster to quicken the pace. You moaned louder "Then cum on my cock, bella~ agh~! You feel too good~ I'm gonna cum so much~!" He whimpers

Both of your moans became louder and a couple more seconds later you came together.

Suddenly Dazai wakes up. He gasps a moan as he cums on his pants. His clenches tightly on his futon while gently arching his back. Ecstacy washed over his entire body. His body was hot and twitching from his climax. His cock throbbed aggressively inside his pants.

After he finished cumming, he was breathing heavily. His mind was blank, but as he calmed down from his orgasm, he remembered his dream about you. He wished it was real. He wish he could kiss, touch, feel you. It was like he needed you. Maybe he's only thinking this way because his mind is a little fogged up from suddenly waking up. He cleaned himself up before going back to bed. It took him a long time to go back to sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about you and the dream.

In the morning, he got up to get ready for work. He was still thinking about the dream. It felt too real to just forget about it. When he arrived at the office, he noticed that you weren't there yet. Since he didn't sleep well last night, he decided to sleep on his desk for a couple of minutes.He was woken up by someone shaking him awake

"Dazai, get up" you said in a soft voice

When he heard your voice, his mind went straight to how you moaned in his dream. He jolted a bit before looking at you

"Kunikida told me to tell you to do you work. Do you think I need to help you with your papers, again?" You asked him while raising an eyebrow and sounded slightly annoyed

He kept staring at you for a couple seconds. His cheeks had a small tint of pink. It didn't help that your hand was on his shoulder just like it was when he was dreaming about you "There's nothing I'd like more, Bella, but first I must go to the bathroom" he gave you a warm smile before he rushed off to the bathroom. You just looked him confused

When he made it to one of the stalls, he palmed his erection. Why did you have such a huge impact on him? His hands were moving on their own as his right hand began to stroked his cock. He wanted to stop but he also didn't. It felt too good. Images of the dream popped into his head, only fueling to his arousal and pleasure. He was panting quietly, trying not to be loud.

His hand was stroking his cock aggressively. He was so desperate to cum. He imagined fucking you like he did in his dream and cumming inside you. He didn't last very long after the thought of it. It wasn't even five minutes before he came. Cum was spilling out of his dick. His cock was Throbbing against his hand as he gasps. His cock was covered in his own cum, except, he only wished that it was covering your walls instead.

He walked back in the office to see you already doing some of his paper. You pulled up a chair next to his chair. He sat down and pretended nothing happened. He looked at you with a smile "if not doing my work makes you sit next to me, I might just never do it"

You rolled your eyes with a smile" I believe you, and because of that I'm never helping you again after today"

He gasps dramatically "that's so mean! But you said the same thing yesterday" he smirks while resting his head on his hand "do you have something to tell me?" He teases

You smirked and leaned towards him. His eyes widen slightly and his smirk went away. You rested your hand on his thigh which made him twitch. You chuckled softly before saying "You fucking wish"

You took your hand away and went back to doing his papers. He was dazed as fuck. He whined "don't play with my heart like that, bella" he cross his legs to hide his new erection, cursing himself.

You laughed "well, hurry up and finish your papers, idiot"

It's an understatement to say he's obsessed with you. He really hopes one day you can call him yours and he can call you his.

💚RANPO💚

He doesn't know how, but you were in his apartment and you were both on the bed. You were on top of him and riding him in a desperate way. His head fell all the way back, exposing his neck and Adams apple. His hands gripped your hips and digging his nails into your skin. His moans were loud but his whimpers showed desperation and how much pleasure he was feeling.

Your moans only made him tremble and closer to his release. "So amazing~ ah~! you feel amazing~!" You moaned

"I cant get enough of you~ mmn~! J-just like that, y/n~!" You suddenly jumped on his cock more quickly and rough. Pure ecstacy flowed throughout his body. You moaned louder and tightened more around him. "Y-y-yes~ ah~! don't stop~! I-im- gonna c-c-cum~!" He whimpered loudly

"Me too~! Mmn~ This feels so good~!" You moaned

His cock couldn't handle the pleasure of being around your walls anymore and came inside you. He arched his back and whimpered loudly. You did the same and came with him. His whole mind went blank for a couple of seconds. His breathing was shallow and his heart rate was quick. He suddenly woke up. It was morning and he was exhausted. He was beginning to move around, but felt something sticky in his pants. He looked down and saw the mess he made while he was asleep. He then remembered the dream he had of you and blushed.

He felt gross, not because of having a lewd dream but because of the gross feeling he made in his pants.He cleaned himself up and put on clean clothes to go to work. He was sitting at his desk and couldn't do anything besides think of you and eat his snacks. He stared blankly at his desk until you randomly threw some candy on his desk and slightly startled him.

"Thought you would like them" you simply said and gave him a smile

He looked at the candy and smiles "ooo~ someone's been thinking about me" he teases as he looks at you

"If anything, it looked like YOU were thinking about something or someone" you tilt your head at him "what were you thinking about?" You asked

He blushed since he couldn't tell you the truth. He began to whine "I'm simply bored!" He made an excuse

"That doesn't answer my question-" your sentence was cut off as he fake snores

You sighed and dead panned, but you just ruffled his hair and went back to your desk. When you ruffled his hair, he slightly leaned more into your touch. After the dream, he wanted to feel more of your touch. He wanted a real touch from you and not by some dream that his unconscious made for him. Before you left completely, he stopped fake snoring and said "give me a head scratch, y/n. That felt nice" he made another excuse

You chuckled "I'm guessing you haven't washed your hair and there's just a bunch of dandruff in it" you teased

He looked offended as you giggled at him "what are you talking about? Look at YOUR hair" he teased back

Now you looked offended "your hair is greasier than mine" you began to laugh

He smirked at you "you know that's not true. Compared to yours that is" he put his hands behind his head and laughed

You gave him an offended look, but he knew If he wanted you to scratch his head he'd have to apologize "I'm just kidding, y/n, but please scratch my head for the world's greatest detective" he smiled at you

You rolled your eyes playfully and smiled "just for a bit"

you began to scratch his head. He had a soft smile on his lips and sighed softly. He loved your touch. He felt at ease and comfortable when you did. You stopped scratching his head "now get to work" you smiled and walked away

He sighed and laid his head on the desk as if he was tired and bored, but he just didn't know what to do with himself besides just think about you, but he smiled to himself softly. Hes never felt so disappointed yet relaxed and happy. He didn't like this feeling, but for some reason, he couldn't help but think it also felt nice.

💜FYODOR💜

It was in the middle of the night. You sat on his desk with your legs spread apart and he was in-between them. His cock was feeling your tight, wet walls for the first time. His legs were slightly trembling. His body only felt immense pleasure. He fought the urge to cum by closing his eyes and focus on something else just for a few seconds. He gripped so harshly on your hips that he'd probably leave bruises there. You moaned softly while gripping onto his shoulders. Your hand was clenching his hair. He moaned softly as well

"amazing- ah~ oh, lyubov~" he had a soft smile on his face.

He loved seeing how good he was making you feel. He loved how you were both one. He loved this moment. "So good~ faster, Fyodor~" you moaned in a pleading way

He pressed his forehead against yours and chuckled softly. His pace became faster and you both moaned louder. Your walls tightened and twitched around his cock. He was deep inside you and hitting all the right places. You arched your back as he kissed your neck "so beautiful~ your mine now, love~" he moans against your skin

"I-im- going to- c-cum~!" You moaned

"Me too, love~ ngh~ don't hold back~" He went faster and just as he was about to cum, he wakes up while breathing heavily. He cums in his pants as he gasps. He closed his eyes and felt the ecstacy go throughout his body. When he finished, he was panting heavily and slowly remembered the dream. He sighed from slightly being disappointed in himself. He got up and out of bed. He realized it was 3 am and decided to go take a cold shower.

It was morning now. He was working on his monitors and you saw him. He seemed to be focused as you walked towards him. "Good morning, Fedya"

He realized that you were there and looked at you with his normal calm face "good morning, y/n" he looked at you as you walked towards him

"Have you been working all night again?" You sigh slightly disappointed in him as you begin to sit on his desk

He noticed you sitting on his desk and remembered that that's where you were sitting when he dreamed of you last night, but he ignored it "I couldn't sleep"

You hum in response, understanding his reason, but you smirk "were you dreaming about me weren't you?" You joke

His eyes widen slightly but he decided to joke along too "wouldn't you like to know" he teases

You chuckle "how rude, and I was going to make you breakfast, but I guess you don't deserve it" you get off the desk

He chuckles "I'd appreciate it if you did"

You sigh to pretend your annoyed "I guess I will" but before you left you kept looking at Fyodor's face.

You noticed how tired he look and he looked back at you He didn't say anything but was curious as to why you were staring at him. You tilted Fyodor's chin up slightly to get a better look at him. He looked at you with a slight surprised look. "you need some sleep, Fedya. After you eat, go sleep" you told him softly. You just cared about his health

You walked away and left him slightly Flustered. He smiled to himself softly . He loved your touch and how you cared about him. It seemed like this crush wasn't going to die down any time soon.

💙ATSUSHI 💙

You were underneath him. Your hands were on his back and his forehead was on your shoulder. His hands struggled to hold himself up from the overwhelming pleasure. He moaned loudly but so were you. Your moans were beautiful. It was a way of you telling him that he was doing a good job at satisfying you. Your skin was soft and your body was perfect just like you. Your walls made him unable to think about anything else besides you. His pace was fast but gentle. Your legs were wrapped around his hips to feel him deeper inside you. Every touch you made on his skin was just pure pleasure to him because he was sensitive.

"Your so beautiful~ mmn~! how did I get so lucky?" He whimpered

You put a hand on the back of his head "this feels good~ ngh~ don't stop~" you moaned

His pace became faster and a bit rougher. He wanted to treat you gently and give you a perfect experience. You arched your back slightly and scratched his back gently. You kissed his neck and shoulders lovingly as if you truly admired him and his body.

"Your doing good~ mmn~ just like that, Atsushi~" you moaned against his skin He gasps slightly

"Your so perfect~ ah~ i- can't hold on anymore~" he whimpered

"Me too~ ah~ don't stop~" you pleaded

His thrusts became faster. The pleasure was unbearable for him now as he lost his limit and came and you soon came with him. Your body's were trembling and your hearts were pounding. You moaned loudly and he was in pure ecstacy.

He opened his eyes and was sweaty. He saw it was morning, but he felt gross and sticky. He looked down and saw a wet stain in his pants and immediately remembered the dream. He felt disappointed and embarrassed. He quickly got up and changed and put his dirty clothes in a washing machine. He even took a quick shower to clean himself before work.

He made it to work and started to do some papers on his desk. He noticed that you weren't there yet. After a couple of minutes he heard "good morning, Atsushi" you smile at him

He jumps at bit and blushes slightly "o-oh g-good morning, y/n" he stutters

He couldn't even look at you, but you didn't pay much attention to that. You noticed how red Atsushi was and got concerned for him "are you alright, Atsushi? Your cheeks are red" you tilted your head

He couldn't be blushing because you did literally nothing, right? He blushed more and looked at you "u-uh yes! I promise you I'm ok" he stammered a bit and afraid he was gonna make it obvious

"Are you sure? Do you have a fever?" You gently put your hand on his forehead to feel his temperature Your touch made him blush even more

"i-i I'm sure, thank you!" He grabbed your hand and placed it on the desk. He still didn't make any eye contact with you

"did I do something wrong?" You asked worried

He looked at you shocked. He was finally making eye contact with you "n-no! It's just- i- " he looked away for a second "I've just been ... Stressed" he made a small excuse

You looked at him with a bit of worry "then...let's go out after work. You deserve to have your mind free of whatever makes you stressed...if that's ok" you asked

He looked at you and blushed. You seemed to really care about him "i- I'd love to" he smiled softly

"We can buy some tea on rice. You love those right?" You smiled back

He looked at you with so much appreciation. How did you remember that he loved tea on rice? He gave you a warm smile "I'd love that" He loved how you appreciate him, notice his abilities, and comfort him when he can't do so himself. He can't thank you enough for everything you've done and made him feel. He really does like you

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You were both in his apartment a d on his bed. You were on top of him and jumping in his cock. His head was on the pillow and his back slightly arched. His eyes were closed and a small smile was on his lips as he moaned. You were finally where he wanted you to be and you seemed to be made for him. His hands rested on your thighs. Your hands were on his chest to keep yourself balanced. Your moans were so beautiful and such a turn on for him. He couldn't stop looking down at where you two are connected and how well he fits inside you. Everything is perfect.

"God, your so beautiful~ ngh~ I've been waiting for this for so long~" he groans

You chuckle softly "I've been waiting for you too~ ah~ this feels amazing~" you moaned as your pace became quicker

He suddenly flipped you over and got on top of you. He kissed your neck and started pounded into you. You gasp a moan and clawed his back. He thought you were so cute like this. He couldn't hold back anymore. He couldn't handle your tight walls anymore

"F-fuck~! I'm gonna cum~ y/n, I can't~" he groans as he struggles to hold on a little longer

"Im at my limit too~ mmn~ t-too good~!" You moaned

After a few more thrusts, he came inside you. His body was overwhelmed by peak pleasure and his arms were trembling. You came with him and both moaned loudly. He woke up in his bed slightly sweaty and hot. He felt sticky and wet in his pants. He looked under his blanket to see a wet spot on them. He felt disgusted yet disappointed, but only because he wished the dream was real. He went to clean himself and went to work.

You and him were partners for a mission Mori sent you both on and he seemed a bit more extreme. He seemed more pissed off and annoyed at the thugs you two had to deal with. He basically beat the shit out of them in less than a second and seemed to be in a rush when there was no need to be. He couldn't even look at you in the eye, hell, even in the morning he seemed to not necessarily ignore you, but he seemed to have something in his mind.

After the mission you finally spoke up. You were walking beside him "Is there something bothering you, Chuuya?" You asked with concern in your tone

He jumped a bit when you finally spoke, but he just sighed "yeah, is it that noticable?" He was honest

You giggled softly "You just seem more pissed off than usual today"

He looked at you confused "what does that mean?"

You laughed "well, whats been on your mind?" You asked curiously

He blushed and looked away from you "nothing important"

You rolled your eyes, not believing his words. You threw small punches on his shoulder "your lying" you whined slightly

He scoffed and rolled his eyes "well, I was just pissed because I wanted something to be real but it wasn't"

You didn't exactly get what he was saying "what do you mean?"

He stopped walking "you know when you want something but your too afraid to reach for it?" He asked softly while looking ahead of him and then looked at you. His eyes were soft and kind

You blushed slightly and thought about his words "I know exactly how you feel"

He blushed a little more. The way you looked at him made him think you were so cute. He looked away from you and you chuckled softly

You nudged him gently with your elbow "let's go out to drink! It's all on me" you wink at him playfully with a smile

He laughed a bit "alright, if you insist"

He would never admit it but he liked it when you nudged him or punched him gently. He always thought it was cute and he didn't mind the physical contact either. He realized it was a bit cold outside since the sun was setting and you didn't have a jacket or long sleeve. You were hugging yourself to try to warm up your body, but he then puts his jacket around your shoulders. You looked at him blushing.

He was blushing slightly while looking away "you idiot, why didn't you bring a coat?"

You laughed a little "thank you, in fact, good luck getting this back" you teased and smiled brightly

You two were bickering after that, but he loved these kinds of moments. He seemed happy with where his relationship with you is at, at the moment, but he hopes it soon becomes more.

💛SIGMA💛

You were both in the sky casino inside his office. You were sitting on top of his desk and he was pounding into you. Your foreheads were pressed against each other. He was panting and softly moaning and so were you. His eyes were closed as he was trying to focus more of the pleasure of your wet, tight walls and how it stroked his cock way better than he expected.Your arms were wrapped around him and his were on your hips. Your legs wrapped around his to push him deeper inside you and to keep him closer. He then put his hands on his desk and began to scrape the wood with his nails, leaving scratch marks on it.

He then suddenly began to kiss your neck and collarbone "God, your so perfect~ mmn~ I want this to last forever~" he moans against your skin

You held the back of his head "it can, Sigma~ mmn~ your mine and I'm yours~" you moaned

His thrusts became rough and fast. His hips hitting against yours and making a loud clapping sound. You both moaned louder and gripped onto each other more harshly. He decided to kiss your lips passionately as he thrusts quickly. He was at him limit and he could tell that you were too. Your moans were muffled by the kiss, but they were getting louder and louder. After a few more seconds, you both came together.

He then abruptly wakes up from his dream. He feels a wave of pleasure come over him and clenches his hands against the sheets. It felt like heaven and pure bliss. He groans deeply and breaths heavily. After his orgasm, his mind was only thinking about the dream. He felt disgusted with himself in more ways than one. He also didn't like that he had to change his clothes and clean himself up. He felt sweaty and tired from the intense climax and decided to get out of bed to deal with the mess he made.

It was finally morning and you noticed that Sigma seemed to be ignoring you. He doesn't want to but he can't even look at you in the eye without his body having a reaction whenever he does. He would have a hint of blush on his cheeks whenever he saw you and walked the other way. By the end of the day, you decided to go to his office and confront him. It wasn't out of the norm to just randomly walk into his office to chat with him since you were both just that close to eachother.

You walked into the office and saw him look immediately uncomfortable when he saw you "u-um what are you doing here? You can't be here I'm really busy-" he says slightly panicking

You ignored his words and just spoke up "did I do something wrong? If I did please tell me" you asked worried and nervously

He looked at you surprised, but then he looked away with embarrassment. He looked away "n-no, you didn't do anything wrong" he says softly

"Then why have you been ignoring me?" You were genuinely asking

He looks at you surprised again and then just sighs "I just- I didn't want to-" he couldn't make up an excuse, but then he saw you and you seemed really devastated.

He then gets up towards you and grabs your hands gently "I promise you, I'm not mad at you and you did nothing wrong...I'm sorry, for making you worry" he sounds genuine

He stared at your hands while he said these words but then finally gained confidence to look into your eyes. He blushed more, but he wanted you to believe his words. You blushed and then looked at your hands that were being held by his.

He then quickly let go of them "s-sorry, I shouldn't have done that" he scratches the back of his head and looks away

you smiled and scoffed "it's fine, I didn't mind" He looks at you with blushed cheeks.

You looked back at him for a few seconds but then quickly looked annoyed and kicked his leg gently, but still make him wince in pain "don't scare me like that, idiot. I thought I did something to hurt you and you just wanted to ignore me. Just tell me you don't like me"

He widen his eyes "n-no! That's not it! I really like you- I mean- not like that, but you know what i mean-" he sighs deeply trying to calm down "I'll make it up to you" he said calmly and seriously

You punched his shoulder gently "you better. You got me scared for nothing"

He sighs in a relaxed manner "of course, I'm sorry again "

You smiled softly "just.. don't do it again"He smiled back at you.

He liked thought you didn't mind touching his hands and that you seem to genuinely care about the friendship you two have. He hopes one day he can actually call you his

3K notes · View notes

chuuyrr · 3 months

Text

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ᐟ

feat. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: bsd men as girl dads to their daughters

ꨄ˙ CW(s): f! mom! reader, established relationship (married to your lover ofc), fluff, short scenarios, not proofread

DAZAI was humming the quiet melody of his 'certain' song as he cradles his little one. the baby in his arms was sniffling, crying softly and practically looking at him with tearful brown eyes that resembles his. he gently hushes and cradles baby sonoko in his arms, his soothing hums a lullaby in the quiet room.

sonoko was a captivating blend of both you and dazai. with her dark hair that mirrored dazai's locks and the bright twinkle in her [color] eyes reminiscent of your own, she was practically a living canvas of your shared features.

dazai gently rocks baby sonoko in his arms, whispering soothing words to calm her cries. the soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, creating a serene atmosphere. he cradles her close, the warmth of his embrace a comforting haven.

"hush, my little one," he murmurs, his voice a gentle melody. "there, there, sonoko. daddy is here." dazai presses a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with paternal affection, "no need for tears, little darling."

he softly sang a lullaby, the words weaving through the air like a protective cocoon. as the room embraced a peaceful stillness, sonoko's cries transformed into quiet sniffles.

dazai continued to sway gently, cherishing the precious moment of connection with his baby girl. he places her head against his chest, manipulating his heart beat into a calming rate to ground her with its sound.

you lay in bed, exhausted, but you find yourself smiling in the calmness of the night as you see your husband and daughter share a quiet bond, the world outside fading away. dazai's love for sonoko radiated in every soothing touch, a promise to always be there, hushing away any fears or tears that may come.

"you're doing that thing with your heart again, aren't you?" you whisper softly to dazai, quietly giggling.

dazai glances at you, still cradling the fruit of your love to his chest, he gently strides to your side and presses a lingering kiss on your forehead, "yeah, i am."

"i still don't get how you do that though, but it works, doesn't it?" you say softly as you see how your baby girl is all calm now.

you extend your arms to reach for sonoko but dazai gently refuses to do so, and he shakes his head as he insists, "shh, let me look after her. you go get some rest, darling."

"are you sure, osamu? sonoko can get a bit fussy," you ask softly as dazai uses his free hand that wasn't carrying sonoko to gently push you to lie back down in bed and pull the blanket over your chest.

"i'm certain. please, my love. you're exhausted from feeding her and looking after. it's daddy's turn to take over, okay?" dazai chuckles softly as sonoko began to coo and pat her tiny hands against her daddy, "we're ok."

"okay," you giggle quietly as you look at your husband and daughter, "try not to give your daddy a bad time, okay sonoko?"

sonoko merely coo and giggle at the sound of your voice before they intensified in volunme when dazai started to tickle her sides and pepper her cute round face in kisses, the rain of affection from her father making her happy.

CHUUYA sighs, holding baby saika in his arms as her cries echoed through the room. he paced around, trying to replicate the comfort saika found in her mother's presence—your presence.

although your child resembled very much like you, she got her traits and personality mostly from chuuya. she even throws quite the fuss when she was upset, and chuuya only realizes it now that you're away for a while.

"shh, saika, it's okay. come on, now." he whispers softly, his voice a mixture of reassurance and longing.

despite his best efforts to spoil her with affection, saika's cries persisted and he feels a pang of helplessness, "mommy will be back soon, little one. until then, it's just you and me, okay?" chuuya continued to sway, his touch tender and caring.

but saika's cries merely intensified, and chuuya's frustration grew. he couldn't replace the warmth and comfort that only her mother seemed to provide.

chuuya's heart sank as he looked down at his precious little one, her tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with a mix of sadness and yearning. he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him, an ache in his chest as he desperately wished he could ease her distress.

"come on, saika," chuuya whispers softly, his voice a blend of sorrow and affection. he cradles her even closer, tracing gentle circles on her back. "what's making you so upset, huh? don't you want toys? food? sweetheart, please."

saika's tiny lips quivered, and her cries persisted. chuuya's usual fiery determination waned in the face of his daughter's tears. money and gifts meant nothing in this moment. though he had her spoiled with everything and anything, she didn't seem to want any of those things as she would only squirm, kick and throw those things away in a tantrum.

in a moment of realization, chuuya gently sets aside the lavish toys and the carefully prepared food. he holds saika to his face and he looks into her teary eyes and finally, he understood the true source of her distress.

"it's not about the toys or the treats, is it, saika?" he muses softly, a smile forming on his face. cradling her up in his arms, he held her close, focusing on the simple act of giving her his undivided attention.

as he spoke soothingly to her, chuuya sensed the shift in saika's mood. her cries slowly gave way to sniffles, and she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. realizing that what she craved was the connection with her daddy, chuuya embraced the simplicity of the moment.

"dada's right here, baby," he whispers to saika, pressing a tender kiss on her cheek, "i got you."

in that instant, the room was filled not with the extravagant gifts he could provide, but with the warmth of a father's love that proved to be the most comforting of all.

he bounced her tenderly as he swayed around the room, the rhythm calming her sniffles. chuuya presses another soft kiss on her forehead, and saika's tiny hands clung to his shirt, finding solace in the familiar embrace.

as you entered the room later on, a tired yet content smile adorned chuuya's face. his hair was tied in a low ponytail with stickers and traces of food decorated his face. in his arms, little saika peacefully slept, nestled against his chest, her [color] hair braided with small butterfly clips.

chuuya looked up, and his eyes softened at the sight of you, "hey there, love," he greets you quietly, careful not to wake saika, "we had a little adventure, but someone decided it was time for a nap."

you couldn't help but giggle fondly at the adorable scene before you. the stickers and food smudges on your husband seemed like badges of a day well spent. saika, oblivious to your arrival, continued to sleep soundly in her father's arms.

quietly, chuuya rose from his spot, carefully transferring saika to her crib. as he joined you, he sighs happily and captures your lips in a tender kiss, "looks like our little one just wanted some dada time today." the exhaustion in his eyes was overshadowed by the joy of the shared moments.

"seems like it," you say softly as you wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss once again, "but hey, you did good. thanks for looking after saika."

"don't mention it, we're in this together. i can't have my darling wife do everything. you deserved a well-rested break today," chuuya whispers against your lips as nuzzles his nose against yours lovingly.

FYODOR cradled his precious lyubov on his lap, her wide eyes filled with curiosity. with a tender smile, he began to read from a novel, his deep yet gentle voice resonating through the quiet space.

"once upon a time, in the turbulent depths of the human soul, there lived a complex character named raskolnikov. he grappled with existential questions, much like the profound mysteries we face in our own lives," fyodor narrates, his gaze shifting between the words on the page and the wide-eyed innocence in lyubov's eyes.

as he continued reading, the intricate plot and philosophical undertones of the novel intertwined with the gentle rhythm of lyubov's breathing. fyodor couldn't help but adapt the narrative, transforming it into a bedtime story that echoed the complexities of morality and human nature.

lyubov, oblivious to the weighty themes, giggled in delight at her father's animated expressions. fyodor, in turn, savored the precious moments, cherishing the bond he was cultivating with his daughter.

as lyubov listened to her father's storytelling, a contagious giggle bubbled up from within her. with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she pointed at the novel in fyodor's hands.

giggling at the sight of her father's earnest storytelling, little lyubov couldn't contain her innocence as she pointed at the pages in amusement.

lyubov, with her jet-black hair cascading in waves down her shoulders, bore a striking resemblance to her father, fyodor. the deep purple hue of her eyes mirrored his own, reflecting a shared intensity that seemed to peer into the depths of the human soul.

yet, amidst these echoes of her father's traits, her features held a delicate familiarity, capturing the essence of her other parent—you. the gentle curve of her nose and the subtle arch of her eyebrows were reminiscent of your own distinct features too.

in a moment of quiet amusement, you turned to fyodor, your husband, a playful glint in your eyes, "isn't she a tad too young for stories like that, darling?" you ask, your laughter blending with the warmth of the dimly lit room as you enter your baby's room.

fyodor, with a gentle smile, glanced at lyubov, who had now nestled herself comfortably against his chest, before looking at you, "perhaps, my love," he replies, his voice carrying a touch of self-awareness, "but the beauty of storytelling is that it grows with the listener. however, if you insist, then i suppose i'll find tales more suited to her age, tales that will weave the magic of childhood without delving too deep into the complexities of the human psyche."

as lyubov cooed and giggled in response to your shared laughter, fyodor couldn't help but join in the merriment.

with a twinkle in his eye, he gently teases, "my, my. look at this, darling. it seems our little one has a taste for the profound, even if the words are a bit too deep for her tender age. perhaps we have a budding philosopher in our midst."

"perhaps, fedya," you say with a playful glint in your eyes, your lips curving into a smile.

you and fyodor share a tender kiss, the laughter lingering in the air as a sweet reminder that, in the midst of literature's complexities and parenting's challenges, there's always room for joy and lighthearted moments in the embrace of family love as lyubov was still nestled in fyodor's embrace, she continued to babble and gurgle, her infectious laughter filling the room.

ꨄ˙ A.N.: sonoko's name came from one of the dazai osamu's actual children. saika translates to fortune with its kanji meaning happiness and the moon. it was inspired by the poems of upon the tainted sorrow and the moon of the actual nakahara chuuya, but i purposely alluded the name to happiness instead. lyubov means love, and it is also the name of one of the actual children of fyodor dostoevsky. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

ꨄ˙ TAGGING.: @chuunai @aureatchi (っ'ヮ'c) ₊˚⊹♡ !

this is a queued post by the way . . .

1K notes · View notes

fyorina · 3 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 TELLING THEM THEY'RE PRETTY!

FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol

SUMMARY: telling the bsd boys that they're pretty! (wordcount: 3.5k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i had cute dividers but this won't show up in the tags if use them D: ! i had sooo much fun with this! i hope you guys enjoy! :D

DAZAI OSAMU

You can’t seem to drag your gaze away from him.

As a long day of work comes to an end, you rest your head on your arms and lean on your desk. Kunikida is still tapping furiously away at his computer, Tanizaki and Naomi are whispering about something together, Ranpo is sorting through his candy, and Atsushi and Kyouka are looking through files. But your eyes are tracing over Dazai Osamu as he leans back in his chair, lazily spinning and bobbing his head to the music he’s listening to.

The setting sun casts an ethereal glow over him, his lips idly turned up and his lashes brushing his cheeks as rests his eyes waiting for the day to end. Dazai Osamu is pretty—you’ve always acknowledged that—but there’s something about the peace of this moment, the domesticity of the office and the ambience of the lighting that has you utterly enraptured.

He looks so at ease, and Dazai Osamu is never at ease. Even when he throws up that clownlike mask of his and spends his day entertaining under the guise of joy and humor, you can always see the strain in the corner of his eyes and lips. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible really—if you were anyone else, you’d miss it, but you’re not anyone else, much to his displeasure, because you know he hates how easily you can see right through him.

After a few minutes, Dazai peeks his eyes open—and you’re almost breathless, because his eyes are like melted honey beneath the sunset, warm and gentle, glittering with amusement. You think you can stare at him forever and never tire of it.

He rolls his chair closer to you, resting his forearms on your desk so that your arms are brushing and laying his head down on them so that his face is mere inches from yours, matching your position. There's a smile on his lips, soft and teasing as he whispers, "You've been staring at me for five minutes."

"Mhm," you agree, voice just as quiet as if to not disturb the tranquility of the office. You can feel his breath light against your face from the proximity he's laying at and you can smell peppermint on his breath from the candy you’d seen him swipe from Ranpo’s desk earlier when the other man had gone to speak to Fukuzawa.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks playfully, dark eyes glimmering as he waits for your response.

You can tease him back and say yes, as you usually do and is probably what he expects—and you fully intend to do just that but the words that leave your lips are not that.

“You just look really pretty today,” you say softly, watching as his eyes widen just a bit at your words, pink dusting his cheeks.

His lips part to say something but no words leave them. He opens and closes them a few times and you marvel because Dazai must know that he’s pretty from all of the attention he gets from women, so you don’t understand why he’s so thrown off hearing you voice it out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him genuinely speechless before now.

“So you don’t think i’m pretty every other day?” Dazai pushes his bottom lip out into an over-exaggerated pout, recovering swiftly from your words, though you expected nothing less from him. But you can’t help but note that his cheeks are still a bit pink and there’s something indecipherable in his eyes.

“Prettier than usual,” you amend and watch as the flush on his cheeks darkens and he instead resorts to completely burying his face in his arms with a frustrated groan.

“I am supposed to be the flirt, bella,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms as he hides his face from your view. He cannot hide the way his ears have gone bright red, and you have half a mind to reach out and tug at them

You lift your hand to your lips to hide the giggle that rises to your lips, scooching your chair a bit closer so you can knock your shoulder against his.

“I’m not flirting,” you say. “Just stating a fact.”

He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can give you a heavy side eye—you can only barely see the red hue coating his cheekbone.

“Not mutually exclusive,” he says grumpily, and you lean down to press your lips against his now exposed forehead, smiling softly as his eyes instinctively flutter shut and his body relaxes as the touch.

Then, you receive a pencil to the side of your head. You yelp as your hand flies to where it had made contact with you, scowling at your assailant who is none other than Ranpo, smiling widely as he waves at you and then motions to Kunikida, who is red faced and staring at the two of you. You can’t tell if it’s in embarrassment or anger.

“Not during work hours,” he snaps, and you realize that he’s definitely embarrassed, so you share a short look with Dazai, who has regained that mischievous look in his eyes as he glances over at Kunikida and back at you.

Without saying a word, or giving any other sort of warning, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short and chaste kiss, but his lips are soft and taste of candy, and you think you might be able to kiss them forever if you get the chance.

Now you’re the one flustered, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at Dazai, who is evidently thoroughly pleased to not be the one uncomposed if the unscrupulous grin on his lips has anything to say about it.

He tosses you a wink before rolling his chair back over to his desk, animatedly complaining about Ranpo and Kunikida being lonely and bitter and getting in the way of Dazai’s chance at true love because of it—you only roll your eyes at his dramatics, as you usually do when Dazai goes off on tangents, but it’s with much more fondness this time.

•••

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

You are not listening to a single word that he’s saying.

It’s a dangerous situation to be in with Fyodor Dostoevsky, you’re sure he’s noticed by now and he will be petty enough to finish his brief about his plans and your involvement and then ask you to repeat what he said, but you just can’t focus.

He tied his hair back, you note, still quite a bit awed by the sight. There are two locks framing his face and his bangs are falling between his eyes, but the rest of his hair, which has grown a bit long in the weeks that he’s been ardently preparing for the final stages of his plan, is pulled back into a lax bun.

He looks so casual, and Fyodor Dostoevsky never looks casual. He’s dressed in a turtleneck and loose pants as he leans back in his chair. There’s a folder resting on his lap that he’s idly flipping through and he keeps glancing up at you occasionally, pale lips flat and violet eyes disapproving, but you just nod along to his words even though you know that he knows that you’re not paying attention.

And you think, distantly, that you probably should be paying attention because he’s talking about your upcoming mission and what you should expect from it but you figure you’ll be fine—it’s a simple infiltration mission, nothing to worry about. And you’d much rather prefer to appreciate Fyodor’s rare repose than to listen him droll on about boring topics.

Sometimes, you think if he just kept his mouth shut all the time, he’d be perfect. But you think you’d miss his sharp-witted comments and the lengthy debates the two of you have after a few glasses of wine.

He looks extra pretty tonight, even beyond the casual hairstyle and clothes and his uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor, and you think it’s because of the way the flames of the fireplace are casting an enchanting orange and red glow over his face. It makes the violets of his eyes burn alive in a way that they usually don’t, you’re far too used to the glacial visage they take whenever he puts his attention on someone. Every time he glances up at you, you swear that you can get lost in them.

“… And you are not listening to a word that I am saying, are you?”

Fyodor is giving you the heaviest side eye as he finally calls you out, expression unamused. His brows are furrowed and his pale skin is taut with thinly veiled irritation.

“Of course, I am,” you dismiss, waving your hand. “Infiltration mission, detective agency, get close to the tiger boy.”

Fyodor looks distinctly unimpressed by your words, brows deepening—you figure you must have spoken wrongly, you probably shouldn’t have been so indifferent, and you bite back a sigh before reaching forward to press two fingers between Fyodor’s eyebrows, as if to forcibly smooth away his annoyance.

He blinks and draws back, out of reach of your arm, and then casts you an even more irritable look.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accuses. “This mission will be dangerous, you’ll be at risk of being exposed every moment you are in the agency and if you are exposed-“

“Your plans will be ruined,” you finish, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes. “I kno-“

“You could be killed,” Fyodor corrected, voice cold and sharp, and you look back over to him. He looks unusually intense, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the appearance that the flames of the fireplace are giving him as they flicker dangerously across his face or if it’s because he’s that displeased with you being distracted. Either way, you find your mind drifting again because wow. “Dazai Osamu is not a man to be taken lightly. When he manages to figure out who you are and what you’re doing, we will need an immediate extraction plan.”

“Careful, Fyodor,” you drawl, watching as his violet eyes narrow briefly, “almost sounds like you care.”

Fyodor’s lips twist but he doesn’t respond. You raise your eyebrows, he looks away. Your eyes shoot open.

“You have a bigger role to play,” Fyodor finally says, but he’s no longer looking at you. “You cannot be killed yet.”

“Yet,” you repeat, amused. Fyodor’s jaw tightens, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are trained on the fireplace to the side of the two of you and you can vaguely see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning ardently against the familiar violet.

You lean forward again, shifting off of the couch to sit on the coffee table between the two of you so you can reach him. You reach forward to brush your knuckles against his cheek—he doesn’t move away this time, but his eyes cut to the side to watch you carefully.

You don’t say anything for a moment, absently tucking one of the locks of hair framing his face behind his ear. His hair is soft, freshly washed—for once—it smells faintly of lavender and vanilla and you wonder if he stole your conditioner.

“You look very pretty tonight, Fyodor,” you say quietly, and then smile. “It’s hard to focus when you look like this.”

The expression Fyodor directs toward you is extraordinarily blank, except for the faintest specks of pink that glare compared to the pallor of his face.

He shakes his head, looking away from you yet again.

“… You cause me much suffering,” he murmurs, and somehow, you know that might be the closest you might get to an admission of love from Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You smile to yourself. “And you to I,” you say, voice a bit teasing, and then you add, “Now, can you tell me again what to look out for?”

The moment is ruined. Fyodor’s eye twitches and he’s giving you that unamused look again, and you think having him repeat himself might be a mistake because now you’re even more distracted, but Fyodor sighs and starts on his lecture again so you force yourself to listen.

It takes about three minutes for him to release a sigh of utter suffering when he realizes that your eyes have glazed over yet again.

•••

NIKOLAI GOGOL

Nikolai has a wild sort of beauty about him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and it’s widely apparent in his frenzied laughter and chaotic behavior. His eye glitters and his teeth gleam sharply beneath the glow of the moonlight as he waves his hands around, animatedly describing to you all of the details of the things he’s been doing while you were away.

Fyodor’s masterplan has involved Nikolai apparently taken upon an infiltration role at the ministry of defense—you think it’s a bold move for Fyodor to use Nikolai for such a tenuous mission, but he’s apparently been having the time of his life with it. Though he thinks his boss is deplorable and one of his coworkers has evidently pissed him off beyond repair, because now he’s telling you about how he’s been ‘pranking’ the man in righteous vengeance.

You think Nikolai’s idea of pranking varies from yours, because you’re pretty sure him using his ability to break into the man’s house constitutes a crime not a prank. But you don’t have it in you to make that distinction when he’s so excitedly telling you about how every day he’s been going into his house to move around all of his stuff and hide some of his belongings to make the man squirm. He’s succeeding outstandingly in his ambition, if the videos he’s waving in front of you have anything to say about it.

You watch as he frantically scrolls to the next video—“this one is the best,” he claims, as he has for every video thus far. You watch with an amused smile as his dark-haired coworker steps into his apartment and nearly starts crying when he realizes that all of his stuff has been moved again, scrambling for his phone to call the police, who have—according to Nikolai—apparently already told him multiple times that there’s nothing they can do about it. The video is shaking wildly, as if the person filming can barely hold the camera straight, and you’re convinced that’s exactly what it is because you can hear Nikolai’s muffled laughter coming from recording.

Nikolai naturally finds it much funnier than you do, half-way keeling over as he wheezes, his laughter shattering the peaceful night. The two of you are sitting at a park near the apartment that Fyodor had leased for you for the duration of the Yokohama operation. The moon is high in the sky, casting a bewitching glow over the lake in front of you and there’s a chill in the air—it’s a nice night all around, you think there will probably some frost dusting the grass in the morning but the cold hardly bothers you now with Nikolai pressed to your side as he laughs himself into a near-coughing fit over his harassment of his coworker.

“Why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai suddenly complains loudly, scowling at you, but even then he keeps having to bite back residual laughter whenever he glances back down at his phone. “It’s funny.”

“It is funny,” you agree. Nikolai gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you. “It is.”

“Then why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai accuses doubtfully, and then adds, even more accusatory, “You hate me.”

You’re not sure why you aren’t laughing, honestly. Usually you’d be burying your face into his shoulder trying to smother your snickers, because even though you might not entirely agree with Nikolai’s idea of a prank, you can still find some humor in it. Because it is kind of funny. Kind of.

But then you realize that you’re probably not laughing because you’ve been spending most of the night admiring Nikolai rather than listening to him prattle on about his escapades and watching his poorly recorded videos, so you can’t fully appreciate the humor in the videos. With his cheeks flushed from copious amounts of laughter and his eyes glowing with excitement, you think he’s very pretty tonight—Nikolai is always pretty, but the angle at which he’s sitting leaves the moon haloing behind his head, and maybe it’s just because you’ve missed him the past few weeks when you’ve been abroad dealing with a territory dispute with Tolstoy, but you think there’s something special about tonight.

“I don’t hate you. I guess I’ve been too busy admiring you,” you finally say, a playful smile on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “You look pretty tonight.”

Nikolai blinks, eyes wide and owlish as he processes your words. The longer he goes unresponsive, you acknowledge that a quiet Nikolai is far more unnerving than a loud and erratic Nikolai, you’d expected a more… theatrical response to your comment. A swish of his cape, him leaping to his feet with a twirl and an agreement, even just a wild laugh; instead, he looks away abruptly. He doesn’t even just look away, he physically turns his whole body away from you.

You blink.

“Nikolai?” you ask, a bit astonished when he literally ignores you. You lean forward, trying to get a look at his face, but then he swivels around even more and your lips part in shock. “Nikolai.”

You’re only met with a face full of his soft white hair, impeccably braided, as per usual—you have half a mind to tug at it hard to try to get a response from him, but you aren’t in the mood for the lewd comment that would likely spill from his lips after.

“Koly-“

“Poor me, poor me,” Nikolai suddenly cries loudly, “The little koshenya mocks me when all I do is try to make her laugh. Poor me, poor me.”

His hand flies to his face, melodramatic as he bemoans your alleged cruelty. You stare at him, mind trying to piece together what exactly is happening—Nikolai is always hard to predict, but you feel like this is a bit strange even for him, and that’s saying something.

“… What?” you start to ask but Nikolai has thrown himself into a loud and theatrical tirade about how he doesn’t deserve such injustice and how he was only trying to make you laugh, and how it’s so, so cold-hearted of you to taunt him when this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in weeks.

Nikolai is impossible to bargain with when he gets like this, so you only sigh and tilt your head up to the sky, his words flying in one ear and out the other as you wait for him to settle down on his own.

Instead, you swear the world is against you because rather than settling down, he becomes increasingly more noisy and distressed, and his accusations become even more asinine. Now, he’s saying that you’ve always had it out for him and how you weren’t laughing at his jokes because you hate him and want to report him to the police and how he should tell Dostoy about your betrayal, or better yet, he should stuff you in his cloak and leave you there?

You side-eye Nikolai heavily as he continues on, slightly alarmed, but brush off the casual threat as just Nikolai being Nikolai. You don’t know how to shut him up, you think you might be out here all night listening to him, and now you’re the one bemoaning your fate because how did a simple compliment turn into this.

Finally, an idea strikes.

You brace yourself, questioning your sanity and your entire existence before you interrupt him with a loud, “Quiz time!”

Nikolai goes silent instantly, head snapping toward you, eye even wider than before.

You think you’ve hit an all time low as you say, “Was I trying to mock you before?” Nikolai opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can. “What’s that you say? I wasn’t? Ding ding! We’ve gotta winner!”

You think Nikolai might be having an internal crisis. He’s staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life—his lips are parted, his eye void of the usual mischief dancing in it. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what.

You let out a long breath as you go to speak up again, but before you can, his eye is glittering again, sharp and dangerous, and his lips are curving up into a slow smile.

Nikolai inhales and then he takes a complete one-eighty as he bursts into loud cackles and says, “Ahahaha! I knew you loved me!” as if he wasn’t just lamenting your irrational hatred for him moments before.

Your eye twitches. He begins a second tirade, this one far more embarrassing for you than the last.

You regret everything.

2K notes · View notes

selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 5 months

Text

Delayed package

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol

Description: Right before BSD Cast got into your world, you ordered something. But, as it often happens, your package got delayed And, because of BSD Cast arrival and you moving out, you totally forgot about your package. Until one day, when it finally arrived.

Prequel to Two detectives in your bed

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

You were mindlessly browsing the Internet. The room was dark and only light from your laptop screen illuminated the room. Thankfully, you were on vacation and have as much free time as you want. You yawn and glance in your phone screen. It was 3:00 am.

Three months before BSD Cast Arrived to this world

___________

You, probably, should go to sleep. But, you don't want to.

Many students left to visit their families. They will spend holidays with theirs relatives. Parents, siblings, cousins, grandparents and others.

You don't have a place to return to. You were talking with your relatives, yes. But, they do show you, that no one want to see you.

You were alone.

You don't have friends. Because of your insecurities, you were afraid of making friends. You were afraid of making a mistake. Of being laughed at.

But you want to have someone. You don't want to be alone anymore.

A single sob escaped your lips. Holidays were the worst. No one around. You couldn't even watch TV and cuddle with a pet, because your landlord isn't allowed pets in the apartment.

You glance at your bed. Full of pillows and few plush toys. So you can cuddle them to sleep. Pretend, that you snuggle up with someone. That you are not alone.

It was a poor substitute, but beggars can't be choosers.

You shook your head and return to the screen.

Maybe, you could watch something. Maybe, you can rewatch your favorite BSD Moments?

You nodded to yourself and start typing the link of the site, where you watch BSD. It took a few moments for it to open. And, of course, there were ads.

Premium account, new book, anime figures, dakimakuras... What?

You scroll up, looking at the small colorful ad with pictures of a few body pillows with anime characters on it. Out of curiosity, you click on the ad.

A new site was opened in a new window. It looked normal. Menu with catalog and FAQ. Search bar. Online shop cart. Contacts. Site looked good.

Just for fun, you search for BSD dakimakuras. You don't forget to choose SFW prints only.

In few moments you got your results. It wasn't much, but, all of them looked good.

You scroll down, and saw, that two dakimakuras were on sale. With Fyodor Dostoevsky and Nikolai Gogol. You click on them, taking a better look.

According to information and reviews, the pillows were big and soft, the prints were colorful. Both dakimakuras were good.

You wonder if you should buy one.

They looked good for hugging.

You cast another glance on your bed.

Body pillow would be better, that many simple pillows.

After a quick search, you discover, that site, where you saw dakimakuras, were a legit one and wasn't scamming people.

You return to the site. You... could buy both Fyodor and Gogol pillows without worrying about your finances.

But, should you?

You stare at the screen.

Your apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

You were alone.

You click on "Add to cart" option.

_______

First month... Second month... Third month...

Shop apologize for loosing package and return money. They also allow you to keep the package, if, one day, it arrived.

Then BSD cast arrived in real world...

With them came friendship.

New home. New memories.

Camping trip with ADA. Scavenger hunt with Port Mafia. Shopping trip with The Guild. Visit to museum with Rats in the house of the Dead. Laser tug with Decay of Angels. Sport competition with Hunting Dogs. Homemade theater with kids.

Walks, movie nights, game nights.

Breakfasts, lunches, dinners.

And no more loneliness.

And you completely forgot about the package.

_____

You, Elise, Mori and Karma were ready to go.

Karma and Elise need something for school, so, you all decide to go on a small shopping trip.

Right before leaving the house, you got a notification. You check it.

It was from your previous neighbors. The big package with your name on it arrived in your old apartment. And neighbors asked you to hurry up and took it from them.

You frowned. You didn't remember ordering something on your old address. Still, you didn't want to make your neighbors wait. They were good neighbors. But, you will do busy these days and your old apartment are far away.

It seems, your worried expression didn't leave unnoticed. You heard Karma's soft voice.

"[Y/N]? Is everything alright?"

You nodded mindlessly. Mostly, it was alright.

"Yes, it's just... My previous neighbors got a package with my name on it. Ask me to take it as soon as I can."

Elise tucked her hair behind the ear. She tried to give you her best puppy dog eyes.

"So, we are going without you? But, [Y/N], without you, Rintarou will be unbearable!"

Mori stands behind Elise. He also looked a tiny bit sad. Thankfully, he didn't try to make puppy dog eyes on you. You would not bear looking at Port Mafia boss, who tried to beg like this for something.

"Elise-chan, [Y/N] will decide for themselves. And here I was planning to treat you all in a restaurant."

It is a blackmail!

You huffed. But, the problem still stands. Well, time to ask someone for help. You turned around and hurry to the living room.

"Will be back in a minute!"

____

You run into Fyodor and Nikolai in the living room. Nikolai was telling a story to Fyodor, actively gesticulating. Meanwhile, Fyodor was nodding from time to time, showing, that he is listening.

Noticing you, Nikolai stopped talking and waved. His smile became even bigger.

"Birdy! Good to see you. Do you decide to stay home with us? Great! Come on, sit down, right between Fedya and I!" Kolya patted the sofa next to where he was sitting. "We will keep you warm and comfy!"

It seems, Fyodor also liked the idea of you staying home. Unfortunately, you are needed. You will be an 'anchor' for Mori. Without you, he will go overboard with shopping and at the end of the day, instead of one adult, one teen and one child, three piles of bags will return home. You shake your head.

"Sorry, but I still must go. But I need help."

You explained, in a few words, what you need.

"So, can you two, please, go to my old apartment and take the package?"

Fyodor and Nikolai looked at each other, the Fyodor nodded.

"No problems, Myshonok. Just in case, should we check, what inside the package? To make sure it isn't damaged?"

You shrugged.

"Why not? Thanks, both of you. If you need anything, just call me."

You left the living room.

And soon you, Karma, Elise and Mori left the house.

Fifteen minutes later, Fyodor and Nikolai left to your old apartment.

______

You finally were back from your shopping trip. All of you get what you need and had lunch in a small restaurant.

You were ready to go to your room, when noticed, that there was a note on your bedroom door.

"[Y/N], please, go to my room. I will give you back your package. Fyodor D. P.S.: It would be nice to spend time together. You, Kolya and I."

You smiled. It was good, that everything went well. You decide to agree to spend some time with Fyodor and Nikolai as a 'thank you' for getting the package.

You walk into your room and changed in a what you call 'shuggly clothes for Fedya and Kolya'.

You were wearing a mouse kigurumi and a scarf, that Kolya gave you.

After getting ready, you go to Fyodor's room.

______

Something feels wrong.

Fyodor was unusually quiet. He locked the door behind you. Kolya wasn't here.

And something was laying behind Fedya's bed.

Fyodor turned towards you. His expression was neutral.

"Myshonok... Your package is here."

You nervously gulped. Did someone send something bad to you?

Fyodor took a piece of paper from his desk and hold it towards you.

"It came with the package."

You read the text.

And you were mortified.

You remembered ordering two dakimakuras almost a year ago. And lost package. And the prints.

You whined and looked at Fyodor.

He was holding them in his hands.

They were soft. They were real. They were in your house, and you don't have any idea what to do with them.

Fyodor were holding two big dakimakuras.

You take a step back. Only to crash into someone else's chest. You don't need to be a genius, to realize, that you were trapped between Fyodor and Nikolai.

Fyodor nodded a little.

Suddenly, a blanket was draped over you. And Nikolai was wrapping it around you tighter and tighter.

Five minutes later, everything was over.

_____

You were laying on Fyodor's bed. You were wrapped in a blanket. Like a candy. And you were stuck between Fyodor and Nikolai.

Fyodor was laying in front of you. His hand caress your face, slowly massaging it

Nikolai was laying behind you. He was spooning you, nibbling your earlobe from time to time.

And you feel, like you were on fire. They were so close. They were so soft.

And they were teasing.

Nikolai let go of your ear and whispered right into it.

"Tell me, Birdy, will this pillow ever kiss you during cuddles?" he returned to nibbling on your ear. You whimper.

"N-no, Kolya..."

Nikolai laughed and start paying attention to the spot right behind your ears.

You felt Fyodor's warm breath on your face. You close your eyes and his fingers started massaging your eyelids.

"Myshonok, will this pillow ever give you a massage during cuddles?"

You whimper again.

"No..."

Fyodor didn't answer, but, instead, softly kissed your eyelids.

Meanwhile, Nikolai chuckled.

"So, one point to us. No points to pillows. Next round."

Position was changed.

Now you were laying face to face with Nikolai. You felt Fyodor's breath on your neck, before he starts leaving small kisses on it. Nikolai's fingers run up and down your scalp, massaging it.

And you feel even more embarrassed.

Fyodor spoke again.

"So, do you want to explain, what the deal with the pillows?"

Once again, without waiting for your answer, Fyodor continues to lightly kiss your neck.

You spoke. Your voice was trembling.

"I... I didn't know... that you were self-aware... Order them almost a year ago... Forgot about it..."

Nikolai playfully boops your nose.

"And didn't know about the bonus pillow cases."

You nod. You feel even warmer now. Fyodor and Nikolai laughed. Fyodor started nibbling on your ear.

"I am not asking about that, Myshonok."

You were pretty sure, that you became ad hot as desert sand.

"I... I was so lonely... Before you arrived. I wanted to... Pretend, that I have someone in my life."

They were quiet. Then you felt Fyodor's lips on your cheek.

"Than today we will show you, that you will never be alone again, Myshonok"

Nikolai kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Don't worry, Birdy, we will take care of you. Just enjoy the warmth. And forget about the pillows."

Nikolai's grin became sly.

"But, please, remember, did you order pillow with us with... Adult print?"

You let out a muffled scream, hiding your face in Nikolai's chest.

You had a feeling, that they will never forget about dakimakuras.

______

What came next, you can describe with only one word. Heaven. Almost.

Without teasing about prints on pillows, it would be even grater.

You were warm.

You were cuddling with Fyodor and Nikolai.

One moment you were laying on Fyodor's chest, and he was showering your forehead in kisses.

The second moment, you were pressed against Nikolai's chest and he was kissing your hands.

You were pampered. You were caressed.

You weren't alone.

You fall asleep between Fyodor and Nikolai.

Safe. Sound. Not alone.

252 notes · View notes

dokk-fukuro · 1 year

Text

Shrift [Fyodor Dostoevsky x f!Reader]

A/N: mentioned of female genitals, smut, slight degradation, orgasm denial, aphrodisiac, some sort of dubcon.

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

The instinct of self-preservation is only half of the requirements that are necessary to avoid problems. A sense of tact and banal politeness can also help prevent worse outcomes, but not for me, apparently, because I still don’t quite understand what I did to deserve the fate of being a prisoner in some damp basement. How long have I been here, what am I for, and who is my kidnapper? I don't know the answer to any of these questions. However, sometimes it is better not to think about such things, especially if the fantasy is rich. And yet, how could a thug from the Black Lizards unit be useful to someone? I only know how to kill. A kid picked up from the slums, taken from his parents who didn't care about me or my brothers. From us it was possible to blind anything, so they blinded. But none of us complain about it. Life in the mafia is not so bad, at least it's better than stealing and getting punished if we get caught.

Twilight reigns in the basement where I sit. Almost nothing is visible here, but even subtle sounds echo. All this time, it seems to me that I became a target simply by accident. Whether they torture me or not doesn't really matter. After all, my comrades most likely abandoned me, and none of them even look for me. In my mind, I apologize to Gin, who instilled in me the will to fight no matter what, to Higuchi and Akutagawa-san. I can't escape, they don't know where to look for me, so leaving me to my fate is the best decision they can make.

I hear someone's steps. It doesn't bother me, it doesn't confuse me. I was preparing for this moment. Now the one who will torment me will appear before me. In exchange for what? Not a single idea comes to mind what anyone might need from a Black Lizard fighter. We all know only what will be useful. We are not initiated into the details, and no one asks for more. Everyone is satisfied.

“It was not easy to drag you here, but the Master ordered.” I hear a voice. I raise my head to see the one in front of me. A pale, slender young man appears in the light of the lamp. It's hard to say for sure how old he is. His wide smile from ear to ear is a little unsettling and reminds me of the times Higuchi saw Akutagawa-san at the end of the corridor. She always frightened me much more than this freak with a bandaged head, who keeps looking at me with unblinking eyes. “And his wishes are my command. Tell me, darling, are your hands numb?”

I frown, trying to guess who put me in the basement and why. And only at the moment when this someone voiced, I realize that I can’t lift a finger. The blood has drained from the limbs, so they almost don't feel like my own. For the first time I wanted to cry like a little girl, ask questions, burst into three streams of tears, but I suppress these desires in myself. This shouldn’t be in my nature, otherwise shame on me as a fighter of the Black Lizards.

"What do you need me for?" Still, I can't resist asking a question. The young man in front of me squints contentedly, as if he had been waiting for this moment. True, he definitely does not like that his question is ignored. I get punched in the stomach, knocking all the air out of my lungs.

"I think I asked a question. It's impolite of you to leave it unanswered," he reminds me, but before he clearly wants to hit me again, I hear someone else's steps. Someone in front of me abruptly stops and clears the passage, standing near me. Clearing my throat, I raise my head to see the one in front of me. Pale, black-haired, with a snow-white cap on his head. His purple eyes are dead, as if there is no sign of life behind them. Even in Akutagawa-san's eyes, I didn't see that. He has a little life in them.

Silence reigns. No one says a word and it honestly pisses me off, which is pretty amazing. After an indefinite time of silence around, I hear someone's voices, and now, when silence is around again, I want to scream. Why was everyone silent? The silence feels like torture.

There is a stir on my right as a young man with a bandaged head moves away, leaving me alone with the man who entered after him. Compared to me, he is tall, which is even a little uncomfortable. Even Akutagawa-san, who is also taller than me, doesn't push as hard as a stranger does. His gloved hand grabs my lower jaw and squeezes it hard.

And it begins to dawn on me who is in front of me. In the meantime, I heard Kouyou-sama raging about Ace, saying that he allows himself too much. To be frank, no one liked him much. I didn't like seeing him around from time to time. Head of the Port Mafia Executive Committee. His ever-sly squint and smirk, as if he won the lottery from this life, strained. I wonder if this asshole is still alive? Most likely not. And now the one that Ace was holding back in his prison is holding me in the basement. Fyodor Dostoevsky.

“And you are not one of the talkative ones,” it only dawns on me at this moment that he has been addressing me all this time. I purse my lips and... I hear clicks above my head. Hands fall, located along the body, and rushing blood pricks unpleasantly in them. I still can't move a finger, so trying to grab the hand that's still holding my face fails miserably. But why would he release me? Even more, why does he need me?

Through simple deductions, the only completely rational thought comes to mind. I can be used as one of the possible leverage. Dostoevsky is not so stupid, and probably already knows enough about me to use it. The brothers will definitely not be able to ignore my sudden disappearance, so it will only benefit him if those whom he challenges arrive in his lair. And, it seems, with this conclusion I fall into the very “ten”. At least that's what Fyodor's grin indicates. Can he read minds? Or is my thought process so obvious to him? Most likely the second.

“You are not so stupid if you managed to figure out part of my plan so quickly,” comes to my ears in confirmation of my guess. A closer look seems to eat away my soul by the teaspoon. Under the gaze of dark purple eyes is so uncomfortable that I want to scream. I can hardly restrain myself, for which I get laughter in response. Quiet, slightly husky. The whole situation seems to amuse him.

He doesn’t say anything to me anymore, he just leads me like I’m on a leash. On the other hand, it will be better if I obey, although I have nothing to lose anymore. However, it still surprises me that no one is going to force any information out of me. Although, knowing who Fyodor Dostoevsky is, this is also not surprising. He doesn't need to torture anyone to get what he wants. He, like a rat, can penetrate anywhere, get the right information and go unnoticed. It remains only to hope that my brothers will be smart enough not to be provoked and not to be led by their emotions. This will lead to fatal errors. The mere failure to comply with the order for all of them can be very costly, to say nothing of the fact that one of my older brothers may well question the correctness of the decision taken by our leadership. If only they had enough brains...

The corridors seem the same. Only the people in them are different, so it makes no sense for me to remember the path. I walk in complete silence with Fyodor. He doesn't give any explanation, he doesn't say anything. On the other hand, it's even better. Around the next turn, the same young man with a bandaged head is waiting for us again. His thin lips curve into an ear-to-ear smile. All I hear is “So she’s ready,” but I don’t attach much importance to this, although my mind is hysterically rushing about in search of explanations. What am I ready for, what will they do with me? For the first time I am so scared that I am ready to call for help. I'm being handed over to that strange person, but I... don't mind.

There is darkness before my eyes, I can’t see where I’m going, I listen to every rustle, as if my life depends on it. However, there is some truth in this. Any of my wrong actions can entail such consequences that death seems to me the most humane solution. In front of me, someone hums a simple tune, leading me by the hand. Disorientation in space leads to the fact that I seem to almost collide with something, but I am abruptly pulled to the side with the words: “What a careless creature.” It sounds with tenderness and even some pity. I'm still not asking questions. I obviously do not need it on foreign territory. Here I am destined to play by the rules dictated by the one who runs everything. And this is Fyodor.

It looks like we're going outside. At least fresh air without a hint of dampness gives an opaque hint of it. Behind me, someone chuckles nastily, fixes my wrists, and a stabbing pain pierces my shoulder. It's like a syringe. Apparently, they decided to poison me or stuff me with something that would force me to kill my own people, and then carry myself away after them. They push me in the back and I fall onto the metal floor. Something closes behind me. The sound is similar to the doors of a truck or minivan. The rattling of the ground beneath me makes me think I've been pushed into a car and taken somewhere.

Where are we going? “I need to keep my mouth shut. How many more times do I have to repeat myself in order to remember once and for all? In answer to my question, I hear laughter. Nobody gives me a clear answer. “You will find out everything yourself,” and I begin to like it less and less. As well as the fact that I get hot, my breathing becomes heavier, and my body begins to tremble. Is this the effect of poison? Not likely. More like the effect of some kind of drug. And, what is most disgusting, the way the car is driving on obvious off-road makes the situation worse. Any bump, any unevenness in the road makes the car shake, sending vibration along my body, and the inability to see anything in front of me only aggravates the situation.

The silence around is alarming, and only somewhere in the distance is heard how someone plays the cello. Hope I'm not mistaken. But for some reason even this does not calm me; on the contrary, I start to get even more nervous, and every step becomes only more difficult to take. All sounds, smells, even a slight change in air flow - everything is felt many times brighter. I bite my lips, feeling the heat build up between my legs. I need at least some touch, at least a minimal amount of friction... no, it only makes the situation worse.

Someone else's touch on the shoulder makes me stop and breathe out noisily. I can’t think clearly, I can’t concentrate on at least one thought. My hands are behind my back, the handcuffs are unpleasantly pressing on my wrists, my clothes also seem to fetter my body. And it dawns on me what they did to me. But for some reason I'm not even horrified by the realization that I somehow don't care. My mind has been drugged, my body yearns for someone else's touch, but I don't care if it's because of what I've been injected with. Desires override common sense.

The melody gets louder and then cuts off. I hear the rustle of clothes, as someone rises from his seat. Steps. One, two, three. I shake a little when the sensation of someone else's warmth gets too close to me. Touching my hair feels good. I purse my lips, it is not clear why, I can obviously be easily read, like an open book. The door behind closes. Clicks behind the back.

“No, no, don’t take off the blindfold, it’s not time yet,” yes, he definitely sees right through me, so I let him do whatever he wants with me. Hands rest on my shoulders, and I exhale noisily. A smile is heard. “It seems that Ivan went too far with the dose. But that's even better. You're so receptive and it's so dirty. I will cleanse your body and soul from sins. Come with me.”

It's Fyodor by the voice. He languidly draws syllables, his speech is viscous like syrup, just as cloying, the touch of his gloved hands - I'm still sure that he wears them - slow, studying, and I almost squirm in his hands in impatience. Anything, please, but let this agony end. The desire, which already painfully reduces the inner side of the thighs, does not come to naught, but is only fueled by someone's touches. It is unbearable!

He takes me by the hand and leads me somewhere. Apparently, I was too immersed in the concentration on other people's touches that I notice the coolness of the air only moments later, when Dostoevsky pushes me, and I fall on the bed. It's cold, it sends goosebumps all over my body, and I can't hold my breath on the verge of a moan.

Rustling of fabric. I can't figure out if it's because I'm fidgeting in the cool bed, or if Fyodor is undressing, but his hand is touching my bare thigh. My parted lips tremble; the touches are so weightless, there are so few of them, that in this agony I am ready to beg for more. I almost suffocate, my head is spinning, and the ghostly touches, which already seem like a dirty joke of a naughty imagination, do not stop. My body is being explored with hands, as if studying reactions to touch here and there. When a hand comes to a stop on my neck and squeezes it, I let out a moan, unable to control myself.

“Your sinful desire is so strong that it’s disgusting to touch you. I have not yet begun to caress you, and your face is already twisted in sweet agony. Such a vicious one,” Fyodor clicks his tongue and laughs huskly. His hand unclenched and grabbed my chest, squeezing noticeably. “But I can't do anything about myself. You poison my mind with your desire, you should be ashamed.”

His words, like poison, penetrate the skin, spread through the veins, igniting the flame only stronger. I should be embarrassed, that's a fact. I should be ashamed that I can't control myself, can't just find the strength to push him away, pull off the blindfold, and just run away. However, even if I try, it is unlikely that it will go unpunished, and then I will have to guess: he will beat me, or someone else will do it. But in this case, I definitely won’t leave alive.

My mental tossings do not go unnoticed, that's for sure, because again I hear laughter in my ear, and a whine escapes my lips. I can't take it anymore! That's too much! His voice sends goosebumps down my spine, turns on a drugged mind, and the pain from the force with which he pinches my nipple brings me back to reality. I am in a stalemate, completely naked on the bed in the arms of Fyodor Dostoevsky, who does with me whatever he wants, as if I were a toy to satisfy his desires. Exactly his desire! And somehow I don't mind at all.

The palm that tormented my breast descends lower to my parted legs, stroking and squeezing the inside of my thigh, slapping it as dry, hot lips attack my neck, leaving painful kisses that will bloom in hickeys. I can't hold back any longer. I arch my back, long moans and pleas to touch my pussy, to stop this torture, break from my lips. I can’t take this anymore!

His hand circles around my labia, parting them a little, but his fingers don't push any further. Where Dostoevsky touched me with his palm, it was burning hot, as if it was still there, but I hear rustling and something falling on the bed, and now another slap on the thigh feels more painful, it is more sonorous. The brunet took off his glove. And now he is attacking my body with double fury. I can even feel the teeth digging into my skin, but all I can do is moan and move towards him. More. I want more!

Once again, my breath tightens in my chest as I feel two fingers pierce inside me with that characteristic wet sound. Shame washed over me from the bottom of my stomach to my head, but I had to accept it while Fyodor sucked and almost gnawed into my chest. I don’t even think to bring my legs together. I just spread them wider. He laughs and gives me the order to remove the blindfold, because he wants to see my face in moments of sinful pleasure.

“Such a pleading look. You're so pathetic underneath me But this is not enough, you must understand.” Dostoevsky continues to move his fingers inside me, pulling out moans from my chest. I tighten around his fingers, look at his body. Sickly pale skin, as if he had anemia, without a hint of scars. The brunet is subtle, but with all this he has incredible strength. The look of his dark, purple eyes literally devours me, and the wide pupils give him only more gloominess.

He drops kisses on the places where he left marks. There will definitely be bruises, and then his dry lips cover my bitten ones, while the knot in the bottom of my stomach pulls, dissolving in languor. I'm about to come, but everything is cut off, his fingers leave my body, leaving me on the edge. I'm almost ready to cry.

"Please, Dostoevsky." I can barely manage to squeeze out as soon as the distance between our lips increases. He pretends not to understand what I want from him, and for some reason I am ashamed to say this out loud. The brunet touches my body, squeezes the nipple with his fingers, squeezes my chest, rubs his erection on my thigh, but doesn’t bring me to orgasm. “Please, fuck me. I want to cum.”

Fyodor laughs hoarsely. He clearly has more composure than I do, although judging by the way his body trembles, he's on edge too.

“What a pervert you are. You want to feel the dick inside you so much that you’re ready to beg.” It doesn’t matter what happens to me later, if I feel good now. With one movement, Dostoevsky fills me to the accompaniment of my loud moan. He doesn't give me a minute to get used to it, he starts to move, groaning gutturally, my lower stomach feels nice as I feel the young man pushing deeper and deeper into me. Fyodor stares into my eyes as his pace gets faster and rougher, his hands clutching painfully at my hips, digging their nails into my skin, my legs pinned against my chest as he ram unceremoniously into my body, making me scream.

With another deafening scream and a sharp, deep thrust inside, everything subsides. Dostoevsky freezes, looking at me. Disheveled, out of breath, with a maniacal smirk on his face.

“We are not done with your shrift, sinner. I will fill you again and again until you repent.”

#My writing #bsd #bsd x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #dostoevsky x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd smut #bsd dostoevsky #dostoevsky smut #fyodor x reader

166 notes · View notes

justcallmesakira · 27 days

Text

You pounce on him, god this insufferable bastard always got you on your nerves, teasing about your status, grades and everything.

"God you idiot! Can you stop your mockery for one fucking second?" you exclaim your legs trapping his body down to the floor.

Everyone in school was watching your and his fights everyday, even the teachers were so fed up.

"What is it now, sweetie? Mad?" even so he teases you literally pinned against the ground.

"Shut the fuck up you manwhore" you reply back with anger in your movement your body creating slight friction against his which you djdnt notice.

You glare at him as if hes some leech heck he would only grin nastily if you did

"Ah just like that, love You hit the spot~"

He moans out, arousol in his tone which instantly made a hue in your cheeks appear but you had deemed it as anger and you instantly get up. Everyone was looking at you two whispering stuff like "theyre so dating" "its giving academic rivals".

While he was there just grinning cheekily, your glare piercing through his naughty ones.

"Cats got your tongue~"

+ DAZAI, NIKOLAI, fyodor, RANPO, DABI, bakugo, GOJO, geto and your cheeky favs :3

927 notes · View notes

milky-aeons · 2 months

Text

'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!

WRITING REQUESTS

1K notes · View notes