#Fydor

[doublesuicide19]

The difference between Dazai simps and Dazai kinnies>

[animeprincessforever]

Brother Dazai X Reader X Chuuya

Why Him?

YOUR POV:

I’ve been in the port mafia since I was 12 I’m a nurse but I have an ability. You see my ability was creation my ability gives me the power to create any non-living material/object from my exposed skin by transforming the molecular structure of my body fat cells and turning it into something. It comes in handy I guess. But I’ve always found it useless. So I love being a nurse for the Port Mafia. However Mr.Mori appreciates it cause I can create replacements of certain valuables and usually by the time people find out it’s a fake it’s too late. I’ve hated my ability cause it always makes me hungry. I eat up to 10 meals a day when I use my ability. Today was one of those days. I had used it to make new communication devices. When me and my brother were summoned to the boss Dazai carried me into the room as I was exhausted. Mori said “Ah, Dazai,  (Y/n)  there’s someone I want you to meet. Chuuya Nakahara. He is the leader of the sheep.” Dazai said “you’re the punk kid from earlier! Very short!” Chuuya said “I’m still growing! And I’m not the leader of the sheep I just have a good card up my sleeve.” As they bickered I asked “Mr.Mori, with all do respect I don’t understand why I’m here. I’m useless. So why am I here.” Ougai replied “you are very useful. Now Dazai and Chuuya you too are going to go on a little mission. (Y/n) please step out your job is separate.” I bowed “yes master.”

Time Skip

When I was summoned by Mr Mori I passed my brother and gave him a hug “be safe and careful brother. I love you.” Dazai smiled and patted my head “you should know by now that no one stands against me.” I smiled “I know” I turned to Chuuya “thank you please look out for each other. Chuuya thank you for your service even if you didn’t have a choice.” I bowed and walked in. Mori said “I would like you to be close by with your tools. Just in case. I have a feeling once the sheep find out they might attack Chuuya. So then he’d join the port.” I nodded “as you wish boss.” He smiled “very well you may be excused.” I then made my way out and waited for my brother’s safe return.

Time Skip

As I went to the spot I was told to meet my brother I watch Chuuya was stabbed and I saw him hiding on the ledge near water. I was with my brother now and Chuuya said “don’t kill the children.” Dazai smirked “as we discussed the children will remained unharmed.” Chuuya huffed as he mumbled “bastard planned it” as my brother and the men left I went over to Chuuya. “What do you want?” He barked and I said “let me help you please.” He mumbled “fine.” So I got to work I brought out my medical box and put gloves on. I removed his jacket and shirt then I removed the knife slowly and put it in a bag. I pulled out some needles and said “these may hurt a bit but it’s going to remove the poison.” As I gave him the shot I bandaged him up. “Here I hope this helps.” I then grabbed a blanket and draped it around him. “To keep you covered I’ll clean your clothes. Now please follow me.” As I got into the limo with him he said “are you really related to that suicidal maniac?” I giggled “oh you mean my brother Dazai. Ya… I know he is a handful but I appreciate you looking out for him!” I said with a smile. Since that day we formed a relationship.

Time Skip

A year later we became boyfriend and girlfriend. However, my brother wasn’t to pleased when I told him he said “why?!?! Oh why?! (Y/n)! Why did you pick Chuuya?! Why him?!” I giggled “love works in mysterious ways” I said with a smile. Dazai said “you know there are taller and more better looking guys out there right?” As he said that Chuuya overheard and like usual they argued

Chuuya-at least I’m not a suicidal manic!

Dazai-at least I’m tall!

Chuuya-I’m still growing!

Dazai-really how much? Half a centimeter?

Chuuya-why you!

Dazai smirked and said “nuh uh uh! Your my dog Chuuya you must respect me after all you lost!” I sighed and shook my head. ‘I wish they could get along.’

Time Skip (in armed detective agency)

I was sound asleep when I heard my brother “we got to go.” Was all he said. I asked “but Chuuya!” Dazai said “we are leaving forget about him you deserve better.” That was YEARS AGO. I miss Chuuya but I know brother did what was best. But now we were in a crazy scenario and it all evolved around a man named Fydor. People where turning into vampires and dying it was scary. However, I was forced to watch from sidelines. When I saw Chuuya tears filled my eyes. He is a vampire! I was shocked I went to the roof as I watched Dazai get the antidote to get the poison out of his body he then said “I had a card up my sleeve. You can come out now!” I looked and saw Chuuya he took off the contacts and said “so what now?” I was frozen the man I love was in front of me. As I blocked out everything just staring at Chuuya I heard him say “damn! These fangs won’t come out!” I giggled and went over to him. “Let me help.” I mumbled as I grabbed something to help them slip out. “There!” I said with a smile. Then Dazai and Nikolai talked with Chuuya I stayed quiet. ‘Just like the old days back in the port.my brother and boyfriend kicking butt while I’m a nurse on scene. I missed it.’ I thought.

Time Skip

Things seemed at peace and I felt happy but I had some sadness ‘I should’ve tried to talk to him more’ then I heard a voice “so you’re still alive.” I saw Chuuya and I said “ya why?” Chuuya said “that’s what Dazai told me during the battle of the guild. But I knew you wouldn’t have died so easily.” He walked closer to me and pinned me against the wall. “Now you owe me for all the time I spent looking for you.” He said as he gave me a kiss I sunk in then I heard my brother. “NO!!!! (Y/n)!!!! Why?!?! I tried to get you to go with Kunikida! I should’ve tried harder! Why Chuuya?!” I smiled and looked at Chuuya then grabbed his hand “Dazai dear brother. You can try to set me up with someone else but it won’t work. I love Chuuya and only him.”

The End SORRY CRINGE Tysm For Reading

[chorllosbook]

Y’all don’t attack me😭😭

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

The four sentences of destruction.

I present you, my humorless soul yet again relating bsd into the most random things.

-Dazai, Fyodor

- Akutagawa, Yosano

-Nikolai, Jōno

-Ranpo, Chuuya

(totally found the sentences on the net)

[demigod-with-a-quirk]

Nikolai: I'm gonna do the thing Sigma: That's probably a bad idea Nikolai: does the thing Fyodor: holyshit- rats are better.

[bassia-bassensis]

That hit me right in the self isolation.

I am not sure if what fydor said was that impactful because it most definitely emotionally wrecked me but maybe I am just projecting my issues on sigma.

[luciferslilith7]

You said home & I embraced myself

@luciferslilith7

Source:📍 pinterest

[moxrglory]

“ i exist. in thousands of agonies, i exist” - Fydor Dostoyevsky

[wonder-and-wildflowers]

Dazai canonically rambling about his loved ones at every possible opportunity is so dear to me.

Mori knew a lot of the things he did about Oda because Dazai told him. Akutagawa also knew about Oda and how important he is to Dazai because of Dazai's ramblings. Random, unnamed PM members know about Oda being very dear to Dazai, because Dazai praises him and talks about how great he is.

Chuuya knew straight away that Dazai had been speaking about him to the ADA. It wasn't something he expressed feeling betrayed or suprised about. It was just an immediate understanding that of all the ways they could probably have known about him and his ability despite it being confidential information in the PM, Dazai's ramblings were most likely the reason.

The way that Dazai speaks about Ranpo to quite literally anyone who will listen. To Fydor, to random cops, to Atsushi.

Dazai canonically brags about the people he cares about in an 'omg omg omg my person my people I love them look how amazing they are' way.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

to be loved is to be changed

Haruki Murakami South of the Border, West of the Sun // Robert Bly In the Month of May // Ocean Vuong On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous // art: unknown quote: Fyodor Dostoeyevsky The Brothers Karamazov // @x2s (via @llovelymoonn) // Bianca Sparacino // Noah Kahan You're Gonna Go Far // Katja Kemnitz Too Much Love // Charlotte Eriksson Everything Changed When I Forgave Myself

[deadpoet-skull]

" It was a wonderful night, such a night as is only possible when we are young, dear reader. "

- Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights

[thewickedjazzy]

Level 1 : “Unveiled” [cyberstalking] for Kinktober.

♡stalker! fyodor d. x afab! reader.

♡Synopsis: your secret life as a streamer takes a wild turn when feyda becomes dangerously obsessed with you, well uh.. obsessed enough to break in, not just to watch, but to finally fuck you.

♡Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt with plot, cyberstalking, cybersex, obsessed! fedya, bdsm themes, non-con recording, dark themes, bondage, oral, cum mentioned, unprotected sex..etc.

♡Word count & a/n: 4k, i'm so sorry. i know i'm horrendously late. i may or may not morph into some sort of poetic lunatic by the end of this fic ppft. also, shoutout to fedya’s art by the brilliant " @isabeau333 " on x.

[SEE: Kink Coin & Winners Scoreboard]

it’s 1:46 a.m. again. you’re sitting on your bed, eyes wide open, staring at the glow of your phone screen. tonight feels different, but you can’t wrap your finger on why. there's a stillness in your own bedroom that makes your skin prickle with unease. you should be asleep by now—work’s in a few hours—but your body hums with a strange kind of thrill. a thrill you haven’t felt since him.

you unlock your phone and scroll through your messages—nothing. the usual fans, the usual comments. until you see it, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as you catch the latest one:

unknown: “don’t bother, my dear. i’m already inside.”

unconsciously, your breath catches in your throat. inside? inside where? your fingers freeze as you stare at the screen. is someone actually stalking you? you can't help but think what if it’s just a prank, someone trying to mess with you, make you think that you're crazy or something.

but deep down, you know better.

because nothing exciting ever really happens to you. not in your real life, anyway. you’ve got your 9-to-5 job, well, the same routine every day as it was before him. you come home, make lunch, and watch a show to unwind from the long, exhausting day at work. mundane. predictable.

but after midnight, everything changes.

it’s the part of your life no one knows about. not even your closest friends. as soon as the clock hits 12, you shift into someone else entirely. that secret side of you comes alive, and for a few hours every night, you stream games to a hidden audience, identity shielded by the anonymity of your kitsune mask.

you’re known online as "kitsunekitten," a name that’s grown more popular than you ever expected. thousands of fans tune in religiously to watch you play everything from dishonoured to lies of p, dead cells, or resident evil. and with every stream, your fanbase grows. the praise, the attention—it feels good.

your phone buzzes again.

unknown: “look behind you.”

you freeze, breath hitching with fear as you feel the slight shiver spread across your body. your gaze darts to the corner of the room, where your webcam sits innocently atop your monitor. you’ve always felt secure with the mask on—no one could ever see your face, not really. but now? the idea that someone might be looking through the lens, watching your every move, makes your skin crawl.

for a long moment, you don’t move. you don’t dare to. but the urge to check if it's him is eating you alive. slowly, your head turns, heart pounding as your eyes scan the obscured room behind you.

there's nothing.

the room is exactly how you left it—empty, quiet.

your shoulders sag in relief, though your nerves still remain frayed, buzzing with adrenaline. you stand from your desk, pacing, trying everything just anything to shake the unease that's wrecking your system. you glance at the clock: 1:49 a.m. it’s too late to still be awake, but you’re wired. there’s no way you’re getting any sleep tonight, not after those messages.

your phone buzzes again, and against your better judgment, you grab it.

unknown: “you’re so cute when you’re scared.”

your blood runs cold, a shiver racing down your spine. there’s no way they can actually be inside… right? you check the door, locked. the windows, closed. you even peek through the curtains, scanning the street below. everything is as it should be, yet the feeling of being watched is suffocating.

how do they know?

another message:

unknown: “why don’t you check the stream again?”

your heart nearly stops. you rush back to your desk, hands trembling as you click open your streaming software. the screen flickers showing your room through the webcam—but something’s off.

the feed is lagging, slow, as if struggling to keep up. then, for a split second, you see it—a shadow in the corner of the room. you blink, leaning closer, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

panic sets in, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to do. but before you can type anything, another message appears, this time in the stream chat. their username, the same one that’s been following you for a few days now: raskolnikov.

“i like your mask, but it’s time we get rid of it, don’t you think?”

your pulse races trying your best to shut the stream down, but your cursor freezes. the mouse won’t respond. every click is to no avail. the screen blurs for a moment before the video feed cuts to black.

what the hell is going on?

then, just as you're about to reach for your phone to call 911, your screen lights up again, showing a video file playing. it’s footage of you—a vivid footage from inside your apartment. to be more exact from your bedroom. you recognize the view, the angle—it’s from your own webcam showing you, sleeping, unaware of the camera watching your every move you make.

your stomach churns. this isn’t real, no... this can’t be real.

then you hear it. this time, a voice comes from right behind you. it filters through your ears, clear with a chilling calmness to it.

“did you miss me, myskha?”

your body locks up, thrill tightening your throat. god! you're so stupid, of course it's him, you should've known it's him, that smooth, taunting tone you’d recognise anywhere.

it’s fyodor dostoevsky.

a few months ago, things were simple. your streams were gaining traction, and the messages were nothing out of the ordinary. until him.

it started small—just a user in your chat, “@demonfyodor,” who seemed more attentive than others. you didn’t think much of it at first. his comments were polite, sometimes even helpful. but then, they became more specific. he knew details about your personal life, things you had never shared on stream—what books you were reading, the colour of the shirt you wore to work that day.

you ignored it at first, brushing it off as a coincidence. but the coincidences kept piling up. he knew too much.

and then, the gifts started arriving. packages with no return address. items you’d mentioned offhandedly during a stream—a game you were interested in, a book you had your eye on, even a necklace you admired. they all came, perfectly wrapped, as if sent by someone who was always listening, aways watching.

by then, the messages grew more intense, sliding into your dms with a casual ease that sent shivers down your spine. easy to say that he wanted more than just to watch. he craved interaction, intimacy, a connection that transcended beyond the screen. and the thrill of having someone so alluringly close was insanely intoxicating, especially when you wore your mask, the anonymity allowing you to explore sides of yourself you’d long kept hidden.

at first, it was thrilling to engage in these flirty exchanges with him. fyodor had a specific way of using words that wrapped around you like silk, enticing you into a world of pleasure you had almost forgotten. he’d ask if you liked the gifts he sent—those perfect little treasures that you've always secretly craved. new packages started arriving, each one with a rush of excitement, revealing items that teased at your wildest fantasies—handcuffs, whips, and other bdsm delights that you had secretly wanted to try but never had the courage to explore.

you’d spent so long alone, single for what felt like an eternity, that you never expected to be so drawn to these fantasies again.

you found yourself lost in hours of texting, often escalating to calls and even facetiming late at night. there was this specific magnetic pull between you, a connection that was both so thrilling yet unbelievably terrifying. and the unforgettable nights you shared became an addiction—worse than nicotine, you realised.

safe to say that fyodor was different. well, he was smart, intuitive, and oh, that half-lidded gaze of his, those captivating amethyst eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul, made it nearly impossible to resist. the way he smirked when he facetimed you, so confident and smooth, drew you in like a cat to catnip.

fyodor had a unique talent for making you cum over and over again without even being in the same room. his silk smooth voice filling your senses with his soft moans and luscious whispers. you could almost feel him there with you, as if he knew every secret spot that would send you twirling into ecstasy.

“just for me, darling,” he would murmur in the dead of night, calling you while you lay there, helplessly aroused, stroking his deliciously lengthy pale cock while whispering sweet nothings that seemed to tangible your desire. it was intoxicating.

and oh the thrill of being sprawled out in front of him through the lens, just for his viewing pleasure, became a nightly ritual. you’d slowly slide the lavender dildo he gifted between your slick-coated folds, moaning softly as you fucked yourself just for him, eagerly awaiting his reaction. every squirm, every gasp was a performance, and the way he admired your every inch of you, the way his gaze burned into you through the screen, made it all the more exhilarating. you loved how pretty he made you feel, how desired, and how alive.

and then came the darker undertones—the realisation that the line between thrill and danger was razor-thin, especially when your connection to him spiraled deeper into obsession.

you were obsessed—completely consumed by him, and you could swear he felt the same. fyodor was always there, filling the void with his words and voice. until one day… he just disappeared.

no warning, no goodbye. nothing, just… gone.

he deleted all of his accounts, his number, everything. every trace of him, wiped clean, deactivated as if he had never existed in the first place. you thought it was some kind of sick game at first. a punishment, maybe? but for what ? you didn’t know. all you knew was the desperate, gnawing need for answers.

you spent days—weeks, really—searching for any trace of him, some clue, something that would explain why he’d vanish so suddenly. but there was nothing. it was as if he had planned this all along, like a predator keeping his prey hooked, dangling just out of reach before vanishing into the void, leaving you stranded in the wake of your obsession.

you’d find yourself obsessively refreshing your streams, hoping his username would pop up in the chat as it used to, scouring your dms, wondering if maybe he was still watching you, lurking among the anonymous fans. you caught yourself imagining him behind every new follower, every message, wondering if he was there, pulling the strings once again.

three months of silence. three agonizing months of waiting, hoping, wondering. were you in love with him? or was it just a pure obsession? you couldn’t tell anymore. all you knew was that he had burrowed into your life, into your mind, so deeply that it felt like you were drowning without him.

your late-night streams had become hollow rituals, devoid of the thrill they once held. the gifts he’d sent were still there, tucked away, untouched since his disappearance. you couldn’t bring yourself to use them anymore, not without him. Not without his voice in your ear, telling you how perfect you were, how beautiful you looked writhing on camera just for him.

"you're shaking my dear are you okay"

his smooth, silky voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts. okay? you're anything but okay. is he even kidding right now? you almost had a heart attack, convinced someone was about to kill you.

your hands tremble, mind racing with dozens of thoughts, questions colliding together in your head. but against all logic, despite the overwhelming fear, you can’t help but feel the familiar rush of dopamine hit your brain receptors.

you missed him. and you know exactly what that means.

he’s right there, sitting on your bed—flesh and bone, not just pixels on a screen. it’s almost too much to process. you hate to admit it, but he’s even more handsome in person. those amethyst eyes are sharper, more intriguing, and his smirk… makes your stomach twist with longing.

then, his voice again hypnotic, like velvet draping over your hearing senses:

“i’m sorry, myshka. i didn’t mean to disappear like that... i had some things to take care of.” he pauses, eyes searching your face for any sign that might let him push further. but all he finds is panic, disbelief, and hurt.

“i—i don’t understand,” you stammer, desperately searching for a way to make sense of it all.

his hand reaches out, brushing your cheek lightly. the touch makes you flinch, but it’s not out of fear. it's the way your body responds—a pink hue spreading underneath your cheeks colouring them so adorably.

“you’re trembling, my dear” he whispers, thumb trailing down to your lips. “but not just from fear, is it? no… there's something else, isn’t there, darling?”

you should push him away. you should scream. but instead, you stay frozen, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb presses lightly against your lower lip, and you can see the striking plum violet and mauve lines in his amaranthine irises.

“you’re so beautiful without the mask,” he continues, leaning slightly forward. “i’ve missed this. missed you.”

oh shit! the mask—how did you forget it? the realisation hits you like a truck, leaving you feeling achingly exposed, like a delicate flower stripped of its petals. is this okay? will he hurt you?

his other hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around your side delicately, drawing you closer to him.

“i’ve been watching you, myshka,” he smiles, that damn smile that you've always wondered when you'll see again. “every night, waiting for the right moment to return.”

“did you think about me?” he asks, eyes narrowing playfully, as if he already knows the answer. you swallow hard, not sure if you should be honest with him or not.

“y-yes,” you finally admit, of course, you thought about him—every single day and night. his essence always lingered in your mind like an addiction, one you couldn’t quite shake off. every moment of your life was coloured by the hope of his return.

“tell me what you want, myshka,” his eyes roam over your nightgown, captivated by how your lavender bra hugs your breasts so perfectly from underneath. tracing the cascade of your hair down your shoulders, with a few wisps caught teasingly between the soft curves of your cleavage. “i can give you everything and more.”

oh lord—the way he says it makes your vision blurs with lust, you want to tell him, you want to confess all of your darkest desires, the fantasies you’ve spun in the solitude of your room. but words fail you. instead, your body leans instinctively toward him, humming in delight, craving the contact you’ve denied yourself for so long.

“the little toys i sent you are gathering dust, aren’t they? i think it’s time we put them to use.”

your breath catches in your throat. how did he know? you hesitate for a second before rushing to your closet, fingers trembling slightly as you open the drawer and pull out the baby blue handcuffs and the magenta vibrator he gifted you months ago his smirk widens as he watches you, an amsuing glint speading into his eyes.

“good choice,” he murmurs, stepping closer to take the items from your hands, smirking viciously as he holds the cuffs like a trophy. “let’s see how well you can follow my orders tonight.”

slowly, he begins to undress you, hands exploring every inch of your soft skin as if you're a forbidden fruit in eve's garden. he traces his fingers along your arms, down your hips, then to your neck down your spin and the cloudy pillows of your ass. each touch makes your skin pebble, radiating flames under his tender touches. you’re not just his toy, you’re his masterpiece.

once he’s stripped you down to nothing, he leads you to the bed and gently handcuffs your wrists to the headboard, securing you in place. you're quite aware that there's a thin line between excitement and anxiety but right now? all you can think about is what he is planning.

as he finishes, he swoops down, lips brushing yours so teasingly, before pressing his cold ones against yours in a gentle chaste kiss growing handsier by each second, causing you to let out a muffled hum of surprise.

he pulls back watching your heaving chest as you catch him holding your kitsune mask, a vicious smile curling on his lips. “you know I can’t have my favorite little fox completely unmasked,” he teases, lifting it toward your face, placing the mask over your features to obscure your identity as he holds a camera in his other hand aiming it at you, its lens capturing the erotic moment. “i want to remember every exquisite detail,” he grouses erotically—placing the camera on your night stand before slowly taking off his clothes.

your breath hitches as you take in his details through the mask. yes, you've seen him naked multiple times before, but it was always behind the camera lenses, never this close. his body is pale and perfectly structured, and oh god, his waist—how is he that beautiful?

your gaze drifts lower, eyes widening as they lock onto his hard cock, the tip glistening and teasingly brushing against your slick folds. it’s a sight that sends a jolt of desire pooling low in your stomach. you want him—need him—right now.

he spreads your folds with two digits, looking eagerly with darkened amethyst orbs as your delicious juices drool from your empty hole.

“oh... myshka, your pussy is so much softer than i imagined.” he purrs as he watches your glossy lips part slightly letting out muffled mewls, the mask frames your features, leaving your mouth exposed for him. he tilts his hips ever so slightly letting the tip of his cock glide against your buzzing clit.

“mnff...fedya,” here comes your needy whimpers that he adores.

he lowers himself, so that his mouth is just a few inches from your cunt, warm breath faning against your wet puffy folds making your cunt gush more and more of its sweet juices.

he begins with teasing licks, the hot muscle swirling around your sensitive clit in circular motion, each flick makes your back arch and hips instinctively buck up yearning for more. a muffled 'mmff' vibrates against your hot sex, as he tastes the sweet honey seeping from between your folds like you’re the sweetest nectar.

“mmff myshka, can you stop moving so much?” he murmurs against your heat core, the vibrations adding to the delicious torment. his fingers dive deeper, curling inside you as he continues to work your clit with his mouth, the combination making you moan loudly, while struggling against your restrained hands, you desperately try to break free, yearning to let your fingers tug on his luscious black silk hair.

“please… more,” you gasp, unable to contain the desperation in your voice as he responds with a low, pleased growl, redoubling his efforts to bring you close enough to your sweet release.

but just as you’re about to cum, he suddenly pulls away. a desperate whimper escapes your lips, the pleasure abruptly cut off as you watch him with wide eyes, feeling the emptiness where he was just a moment ago.

“not yet, myshka,” he chuckles, licking his lips to taste the ghost of you.

without warning, he rams inside you, filling you to the hilt in one swift motion. a sharp gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you, the sudden intrusion makes your vision blurry, stars flashing behind your eyes making every nerve in your body tingle with pleasure. as you feel yourself close to your release again, your walls clenching around him instinctively.

“черт! тебе так хорошо.” (fuck! you feel so good.) he groans as he begins to thrust deep, each swing of his hips sending ripples of ecstasy radiating from your core. “this tight little pussy of yours..ngh..is going to become my new obsession..mff”

you mull over his words as they feed at all parts of your hollow heart, making you feel butterflies in your stomach mingling with the coil tightening in your lower abdomen.

lost in a haze of blissful moans and blurred vision, you barely notice fyodor's hand gliding over to the vibrator. the moment he presses it against your swollen clit, a scream escapes your lips, a sound of pure ecstasy that mingles with his deep, satisfied moan. the buzzing sensation resonates deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire body. as his heavy shaft with veins straining against the skin, finds new pleasure points inside you that he commits to memory eager for the next time you make love.

heat coils between you as his furrowed brows speak of pure, concentrated desire. each deep stroke reshapes your walls, molding them to the weight and curve of his delicious lengthy cock, making sure no one else could ever fill you up the way he does. when your eyes meet, it’s like gazing into a galaxy of forbidden stars—his eyes telling you of a dark beauty of pleasure that pulls you higher and higher and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass blends with your moans, each collision driving you closer to the intoxicating edge of bliss.

you’re absolutely lost in the art of it, the way his body claims yours, painting pleasure across every nerve until the world outside dissolves and all that remains is just the two of you.

his breath comes in ragged, desperate gasps, tension in his muscles like the pull of a bowstring, ready to spill inside you at any given moment. he swells, every stroke only adding more fuel to the release building between you. the world narrows to this moment, the brush of his sweaty skin against your heaving chest, the pulse of pleasure echoing through your body with the buzzy rhythm of the vibrator pressed on your clit drives you straight away to your own release.

it's like stars colliding in the vastness of a violet sky, you shatter together. his name spills from your lips in a cry, body arching as pleasure crashes over you, flooding your senses. his hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he drives deeper, groaning low in his chest. and then you feel the heat of his release blooms inside you, filling you in waves as your walls pulse around him, pulling him in even tighter.

your bodies tremble in the afterglow, the world spinning and slowing until only the soft hum of breath and the fading echoes of pleasure remain. you glance at his irresistible eyes, seeing the remnants of that celestial fire, a shared intimacy that lingers even as the stars dim and the night settles into quiet.

he reaches over with a steady hand, grabbing the camera set just beyond the edge of the bed, with a smirk curling his lips, he flicks it off, the soft click signaling the end of the recording before he leans closer, fingers brushing against your cheekbone as he slowly pulls the mask off your face and gently frees your aching wrists from the restraints.

“beautiful,” he murmurs with a thick russian accent, his breath mingles with yours for a heartbeat before he closes the gap, capturing your lips in another deep, passionate kiss, mouth moving erotically against yours with the same fervor that had driven him moments before, as if he’s still chasing the aftershocks of pleasure through the taste of your glossy now-swollen lips.

“moya lyubov, you're designed just for me.”

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr

[advent-march]

Big bad evil man or not, put Dostoyevsky in a room with teenage chuuya and dazai and he wouldn't last. They would bully the willpower out of that man

[luvfy0dor]

“I Can't Help But Pamper You ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

warnings; kisses, sassy Fyodor,

description; pampering BSD boys at home? I dunno how else to describe it jdskskkek

A/n; Happy birthday to Dazai and happy Juneteenth!!! I've been swamped with state testing and finals and studying for them, I got three more to go, 3/6 completed. I'm kinda excited for summer but I'll feel like I have nothin' to do. idea cred to @yaeeko and Nikolai scenario inspiration from @ilovechuuy4

Dazai Osamu ★

Dazai is almost never the first one up. Every morning, you take on the responsibilities of an alarm clock by shaking your boyfriend awake from his fifth 'just five more minutes' every morning. You were blessed with weekends off, though, and one Saturday morning when you inevitably woke up before Osamu, you decided to embrace your inner chef. Maybe you're not the best cook, but anyone is better than Dazai, so you did most of the food preparation. You never really made breakfast, though. Dazai usually just took an apple or two and you never had time to power up the stove and make pancake batter or anything of the sort, so this morning, you figured you would. You whipped out a couple pans, and some boxed pancake mix and eggs and got to work. You made sure Dazais eggs were cooked just right before playing them, a long with the less-than-perfect pancakes. Sure they were a little crispy, but Dazai wouldn't mind too much. All that was left to do was grab a fork and syrup and bring the meal back to him in your room. Pushing the door open with your foot, you walked in and set the plate on the nightstand, gently shaking him awake. His brows furrow and his nose scrunched up. "'Samu, wake up, I brought you breakfast." You say, running your fingers through his messy brown hair. He stretches his limbs before peeking open his eyes and smiling. "Did you now? How romantic of you!" He sits up and lets you hand him the plate. "This is so thoughtful of you! Come sit down." He pats the empty spot next to him. You crawl over him to get there and lean onto his shoulder once your fully situated. His nimble fingers grip the fork loosely as he cuts off a sliver of the pancake and holds it up to your lips. "Go on, try it." He encourages and you bite it off of the fork, humming at the taste. "Wow, I did pretty good, huh." You say, satisfied. He nods with a grin, continuing to munch on his breakfast. "Better than that time you burnt gravy." You roll your eyes but nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

The second you offered a hot shower with Chuuya to unwind one evening, he was happily accepting. He wasted no time heading to the closet to grab a towel, slinging one over his shoulder for you along with his. He let you pull him in by his waist for a kiss while you leaned against the sink, and even though the shower wasn't turned on yet, the mirrors were already fogging up. Your hand creeps up to cup his face, running your thumb over his pronounced cheekbones as he sighs into your kisses. He pulls away, his face flustered and red. "C'mon, let's get into the shower before we end up distracted." He says playfully. He starts to undo his vest and meets you halfway in the middle without having realized that your fingers were fumbling with the buttons too. He chuckles quietly and lets you help him finish undressing before the both of you step into the steamy shower. He hums in contentment at the feeling of the hot water against his overworked muscles, his body immediately relaxing. Your instinct tells you to hug him from behind while the water cascades over the two of you, but you reason that it would be uncomfortably hot, so you opt to wash his body for him instead. He'd let a quiet but pleased sound out at the favor, mumbling thanks and closing his eyes, letting the relaxing water nearly consume him. Chuuya had never loved showers more than he did when he took one with you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Every night before you went to bed, you had a really quick skincare routine. All it really was was washing your face, putting on moisturizer, and using a lip scrub, but you enjoyed it and felt that it did what it was supposed to. Occasionally, Fyodor would stand by and watch, his interest piqued. Sometimes he'd ask questions or make comments on your routine, such as "that must be why your lips are so soft." Or "What exactly does it do for your face? I don't think it can really fix it." I'm a firm believer that Fyodor is actually kinda playful and teases his partner from time to time. "Its not supposed to 'fix it', dumdum. It makes the skin softer 'nd stuff." You'd reply with an eye roll. He'd fall silent for a second, watching as you apply the scrub to your lips. "Can I try it?" You put you finger on your chin and hummed pensively, turning to him and nodding. "I guess." You rummaged through the drawer in the sink for your recently discarded headband with floppy, worn out bunny ears on the top. He leaned against the sink and let you put it on him, pulling it over his head and then pushing it up again to keep his long bangs out of his face. He looked over his shoulder at himself in the mirror while you grabbed your moisturizer and scrub and grimaced. "I look much better with my bangs. This certainly isn't ideal." He'd tell you, turning back to face you, only to be spinned around once again.

"Just splash some water on your face." You say, turning the sink on for him. "Is that really necessary? My shirt is going to get all soaked-" "You can always change, go on, Fedya.' You say, your hand on his lower back as he reluctantly leans over the sink and gently uses his cupped hands to bring the water to his face a couple times. When he stood back up again, water dripped down his skin and from his eyelashes and his cheeks were very slightly flushed. "What now? I'm all cold and wet." He murmurs, standing stiffly as the droplets continue to roll down his face. You grab a small towel and pat his face dry for him, getting to his lips and stealing a quick peck. You then pump some of the moisturizer onto your hand and start rubbing it into his pale skin. The cream leaves a glossy effect afterwards and he runs his fingers over his cheek to feel the smooth texture. He watches you take out the lip scrub and gather some on your finger. "Open up." You say. He raises an eyebrow but parts his lips, slightly grimacing as you aggressively apply the product. "Okay, now rub your lips together." He does as directed and can't help but lick his lower one. "It tastes good, like artificial blueberry." He says and you nod in agreement. "My lips do feel softer, though." He says, continuously feeling them and taking in the softer texture. "Let me feel." You say, gently guiding his hand away from his mouth in order to lean in and kiss him, intertwining your fingers with his as you do so. "Yeah, I think it definetly worked." You mumble as you pull away. Maybe you should rope him into your routine more often.

Nikolai Gogol ★

"Dove, you ever see those people who put on face masks and then they do the whole 'cucumber over the eyes' thing? We should try that!" Your boyfriend calls out to you from the kitchen, searching for the cucumber you bought last week. He finally found it in one of the drawers and quickly grabbed a cutting board and knife. "Where'd that come from?" You ask with a raised eyebrow as you walk into the kitchen, standing at the counter next to him. "I dunno, it just came to mind. Seems fun though, doesnt it?" He chopped six slices off of the cucumber and wrapped it back up to be put back in the fridge. "Yeah, sure." You grab one of the slices and take a bite. "Let me go grab the face masks real quick. Do you want your robe? To enhance the experience?" He grins as he heads down the hallway to the bathroom. "Kolya it's like, a million degrees in here, it's summer and we have no ac, I'm surprised you're not already walking around naked and you wanna wear a robe? You're out your mind." You say, following the white haired man to find him in the bathroom closet, grabbing two charcoal masks. "I'll do as I please, and if that's wearing a fuzzy robe in the summer, then so be it. The cucumbers will cool me down."

You roll your eyes and pull the hair tie you keep on your wrist off to bunch up and hold Nikolais bangs out of his face. "Mm, much better! Let's go, I want to lay down." He says with an excited smile, dragging out along back to the couch. He plops down and sprawls out, half of one leg hanging off the edge. You follow suit but remain sitting up and rip the mask open by the tear strip. "Oops, we forgot the cucumbers in the kitchen." He says, opening his portal and sticking his arm through, pulling it out a couple seconds later with the cucumbers in hand. "Thank you." You say appreciatively. "Now close your eyes." You say, placing two of them on his eyes. "I feel much cooler already." He says, making you roll your eyes with a smile. You squeeze out the mask and spread it onto his face with your pointer finger until it covered most of the surface area except for his lips. "This is so relaxing! I'll have to do yours for you after I'm done with mine." He says, clearly having a great time. You gently massage his scalp while you let him marinate and can't help but be surprised that he hasn't eaten the cucumbers yet. Just as you the thought floats through your head, he reaches over and grabs one of the extra cucumbers on the plate, bringing it to his mouth and practically swallowing it whole. You laugh at him quietly. "I thought those were for me?" He hums to indicate that they weren't as he chews. "Not anymore." You smiled and lean down to peck his lips quickly, feeling your heart flutter with affection for him, just like it did the day you first met. "Alright, Kolya, whatever you say."

Sigma ★

Sigma was very fond of done-up nails, always admiring his customers when they had them painted with colors and sparkles, glossy or matte. One evening, he turned in from his manager job for the night and called out your name, just to find you sitting in bed, cross-legged, painting your nails. His eyes literally up and he walked closer, sitting down next to you. "That's a pretty color. Can you do mine too?" You looked up at him and smiled, shaking your hand to get the polish to dry faster. "Yeah, just give me a second.." you say, blowing your nails and continuously shaking them. It didn't take long for them to dry and you held out your hand for Sigmas. "Alright, let me see." He quickly put his hand in yours. You unscrewed the cap and scraped off the excess nail polish and started painting his left nails. His gaze was fixated on the brush as his nails went from a pale white to a glossy red. You made it to his ring finger before stopping. "Do you want an accent nail?" You ask him. His brows slightly furrowed before a look of realization appeared on his face. "That's when one of them is different, right?" You nod. "Yeah, what other colors are there?"

You reach over to a small, plastic bag on the nightstand and pull out three other polishes, one a shade of purple, a white one, and a black one. "Can I have purple?" You smiled and nodded, unscrewing the cap. "It almost matches your hair." You say, painting his ring finger and then alternating to the red one again for the pinky. "Wave your hand so it dries faster." He does as told. "I'm so happy, I see all these people with nails like this and I've wanted to do mine for a while. Did you know?" You shrugged with a smile, starting on his right hand. "Well, I always see you admire other people's nails, so I figured I'd do mine so you'd give me that attention too, but no, I didn't." You finish up his left hand and instruct him to wave it. "Ohhh...well that's even better because now we can match." He says. His cheeks are a little pinker than before and he takes your hand in his, examining your near perfect nails. "They're so pretty." He mumbles, looking back up at you with his big eyes. "Thank you." You appreciatively say, leaning in to peck his lips. He kisses you back happily and squeezes your hand. He felt so much joy every time he looked at his colored nails, and even more when he saw yours and his together.

A/n; I wasn't gonna put a 2nd a/n but it feels weird not being here, but I don't got nothing to say 🤷

[diabolicalrat]

Babe you’re so delusional you belong in a Dostoevsky novel

[luciferslilith7]

Death whispered,"I'll love you more than life ever can."

Picture Credit ~📍 pinterest

@luciferslilith7