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violentdelights-violentendss · 1 year ago

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When BSD men have to carry you.

Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men

In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨

Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.

Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!

Edogawa Ranpo

You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.

Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.

The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.

“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”

“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.

“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.

Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.

You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.

Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.

“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.

As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.

Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.

The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.

He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?

The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.

He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.

“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.

Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”

Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.

Osamu Dazai

You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.

The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.

“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.

Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.

“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.

Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.

You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.

“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”

“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.

“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.

“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.

“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.

Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.

The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Yes, please.”

Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.

Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.

“Hey, (Y/N),”

“Yes?”

“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”

“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.

“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”

You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.

Doppo Kunikida

The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.

You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.

Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.

Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.

Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.

“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.

“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.

Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.

You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.

You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.

“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.

Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.

Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”

Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.

You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.

“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.

“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.

“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.

You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.

The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.

Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.

Yukichi Fukuzawa

The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.

The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.

The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.

You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.

You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”

“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.

“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”

“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.

Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.

As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.

“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.

You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.

When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.

The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.

At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.

Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.

“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.

Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.

As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.

“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.

Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.

Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.

“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.

“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.

“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.

“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.

You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.

Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.

The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.

“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.

“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.

“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.

Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.

Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.

Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.

When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.

“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.

Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.

“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.

“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.

You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.

It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.

Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.

You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.

Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.

Nakajima Atsushi

Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.

When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.

You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.

You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.

As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.

“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.

You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #rampo x reader #fukuzawa x reader #fyodor x reader #kunikida x reader #atsushi x reader #akutagawa x reader

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parfaitblogs · 2 months ago

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astronomy ❀ s. reid x reader

in which nothing can live forever, and you would be naive to believe that something as minor as this relationship will be exempt from that fate.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst tags: s10 spencer reid. maeve as a plot point. argument yay. spencer says some mean things (#needthat). all around unhappiness. stars and light and the sun. lack of communication. reader my avoidant attachment queen. i’m holding your hand throughout 🫂 word count: 2.7k a/n: a late happy mercury retrograde. sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth for a hot minute. here's how my brains been feeling. i don't really know what this is. it was written amidst a dissociative episode. hopefully future me figures it out.

"your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing." (fyodor dostoevsky)

A melodic hum of air whirs in this apartment. Keeping dust particles from settling on too many surfaces, swirling around your heads. Tiny, and unseen, but there. You familiarise yourself with the thought of them being there. They tickle your skin when you sit down in the armchair nobody ever really resides in now, and you find comfort in knowing there is more that exists invisibly than just your own feelings.

He does not say anything to you as you tuck your feet beneath yourself, and it hurts, but a large part of you doesn't want him to anyways. He will only say things that will liquidise your brain into thinking he cares more than he does, and you have had too long of a day to act like he is not using bare palms to crush your heart. Too heavy of a week to let him bypass your walls once again.

A foreign voice tells the air you need to talk, and you distantly recognise it as your own. You had rehearsed the very sentence in your car a thousand times. Once it got past your lips, this would all become easier to discuss.

It isn't.

You're focussed on the steam that lifts from a cup of coffee he had probably made seconds before you knocked on his door. An impromptu visit he did not ask you for, but you hope he understands your awful guest manners once this is all over.

"Talk about what?" he answers the question you don't even remember asking, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him tense when a shuddering breath leaves your lips.

You wonder if he's shocked when you tell him you want to end things.

It's storming outside. The rain pelting against the window mirrors your heavy heart, but you aren't too naive to believe it is storming in your name. Though, there are few pleasures in life you still enjoy these days, and perhaps pretending the universe is centring around you for just this one night isn't selfish.

"You want to end things," he repeats your words back to you. They don't sound right. Like a language Earth's never discovered. Two weeks ago you wouldn't have ever dreamed uttering these words.

Two weeks ago, you were incandescent. Light bounced off your skin, the rays of sunlight creating a halo around you that would leave anyone breathless. Spencer Reid would never be an outlier in that demographic.

You'd sat in a very similar position to how you are now, but your head was in the space between his jawline and his shoulder, and your hands were woven within his. Thumbs stroked the skin, and he'd bitten back a comment about how soft you felt.

Unfinished — but definitely touched — Thai food sat atop the coffee table in front of your bodies, and the tenth Doctor Who episode in a row was playing on the television. He'd discovered your weakness for his widened eyes and hands-on coercion, and used and abused the power ever since.

He stared down at you, and you could feel him without the need to look up. You should've. Perhaps, if you'd crawled out of the comfort being physically entwined with Spencer Reid on his living room couch provided, you would've noticed that beneath his intense gaze on the sunlight encircling your body, he was thinking about the dead.

You didn't, though. You had laughed as he quoted lines as they were said of the episode he'd no doubt seen a thousand times, shoving his shoulder and calling him a nerd with the stupidest grin on your face, and the sweetest flutter of your heart.

He said, "Nerd is a noun to describe someone who is an expert in one particular thing. I am an expert in a lot more than one."

And you replied, "Oh, of course. My mistake. What else are you an expert in, Spencer?"

Your skin would tingle, because he'd take the invitation for what it was, and his lips would brush against your ear as he whispered, "You, for starters."

And you'd get whiplash from how easy he was to go from the biggest dork on the planet to the very reason you researched early onset heart attacks.

One week ago, you were cracking.

Instead of the halo glow that settled around your body, it'd fractured. Sticks of light throwing out in every direction, but still reflecting back the hope you had for this crumbling relationship.

Knives pelted into your edges with every new piece of information you learnt.

A book you'd never paid mind to, now opened on the front page, a dedication to his name, accompanied by another name you'd only heard in passing whispers. The written down addresses of the nearest pay phones from his apartment, a phone number circled three times in the corner of the page. Written down for no reason. You knew he didn't need it, really. The slow withdrawals of telling you about his life the further into it he gets. Not mentioning more about a past relationship than that it'd ended tragically.

The more dots you connected, the closer your personal implosion neared.

You'd apologised to him, saying you didn't want him to relive anything that would return his mind somewhere darker than you can ever fathom.

"I have you, now. I can't ever get there again even if I tried to," he said. You stupidly took his words with full intent, head reeling and heart racing all over again.

You smiled, and kissed him. He tasted of coffee and content. He kissed you back with more force than you had left in you, and you'd gone down like a sinking ship. Falling back against his couch cushions, fingers entwined in his hair.

Each new day was another loss to cut. Four days ago, it was his hands refusing to touch you intimately. Even when you'd moved them for him, pleading him with your own body. Three days ago, it was his honesty. You'd grown desperate.

Questioning if he was okay and receiving a wordless hum in response. If he wanted to order food, and getting a disgruntled non-answer. Sitting with a foot between your two bodies this time, albeit with your feet in his lap, so maybe you were just as close as you were last week by principle. Finally, seeing if he actually wanted you there, with him, and him taking more than one second to give you his,

"Yes. Obviously."

You lack energy when you are trying so desperately to stay alive, so you did not question why he had to think about his answer, unsure if you needed him to tell you, regardless. His mind was increasingly becoming preoccupied with the girl behind his book dedication. Behind the payphone addresses, and the thrice times circled phone number. He was disintegrating before your eyes, and your relationship was slipping through the cracks.

"Why?" he asks you, and you're forced to stop reliving every single moment that brought you here. You will again tomorrow, anyways. The day after that, too. You will probably live through the end of this relationship a thousand times before you begin to heal. A thousand, to mirror every single shard of your heart lain out before him.

Your voice hurts to use when you reply. "Because you don't love me, Spencer."

You're grateful he doesn't scramble to disprove your claims. You're sure it would hurt even more to hear him force a lie.

He does, however, look confused. By you. Not your words, though. You know they register fully because the confusion doesn't come until you meet his eyes, and he really takes you in. For the first time since you met him, you see the truth behind his gaze. A disgusting reality that he is not staring at you with love, or even a hint of recognition.

No, to him, you are a stranger. Somebody he does not know, sitting in his unused armchair across the living room, telling him words you don't really want to be saying. You don't get that luxury of choice, though.

"Your silence is answer enough," you murmur, and you force your limbs to react to your brain's signals, feet pressed firmly on the floor as you stand.

"Hey, wait," he stops you from moving without even a lick of firmness. You grow sick, knowing he will always have some subconscious hold on you that you'll never not respond to. "Why do you say that? Have I done something to make you feel that way?"

Yes, you want to scream. Yes, you have, and I'm begging you to tell me I'm wrong and that you do love me. Instead, you're jumping through hoops to turn this into an unnecessary conversation.

However, "I'm just becoming... aware. Of certain things. That would mean us ending things is the best thing to do," is what you do say.

"Like what?" he quips.

"Things."

Air blows out his nose, frustratedly. "That's not an answer."

Light bulbs burn out when the filament — the three wires in its centre — breaks down, and ceases to produce electricity. Burning out after an average of a thousand hours per lightbulb, because nothing can live forever. Nothing can live forever, for the sun will eventually burn out. Not in this lifetime, and definitely not in the next five, or ten, or twenty. The hydrogen will eventually deplete, and it will die the way fifty-two stars die each century. Nothing can live forever, and you would be naive to believe that something as minor as this relationship will be exempt from that fate.

"What does it matter, Spencer?" you whisper. A pathetic tone for response, but you think you'll choke on anything louder.

"You matter," he argues. Words are bullets, and he seems to have perfect aim.

"Not to you, I don't," you stumble over your feet as you try to head towards his door. You've said what you needed to say. You've ended things. You can go, and this can all be over.

"Yes, you do," he's standing too. He got closer to you at some point. You don't really remember.

"You don't even know me!"

You're crying, you think. Staring at him, and he's blurry, which must mean your eyes are full of water. Ridiculous, because he is very clearly not. Too emotional for this conversation to drag out any longer, and yet he has the power to keep you constrained to it like a prison as long as he keeps talking.

"You're shutting me out as a form of defence for something," he says. The words are calm, but he's taken on a higher pitch in his voice, which tells you this is affecting him. Or maybe he's pretending. "I don't know what. You won't tell me. That's your prerogative, I guess."

"You don't love me," you repeat the words from earlier with less conviction. You believe them less, yes, but still trust your instincts enough for them to hurt.

"I don't understand why you think that," he replies, a hand dragging down his face. "I don't. All the knowledge in the world, and I cannot think of any logical reason behind you believing that."

"Who's Maeve?"

The silence that follows is deafening. His head snaps up and his hands fall limp by his sides, your vision clearing in an instant. You know, deep down, who Maeve is. The tragic ending to an even more tragic relationship has her name printed all over it.

"That's why you think I don't love you." It isn't a question, and he almost sounds like he's ridiculing you for coming to such a conclusion.

Your panic rises. "I saw the book, and the addresses, and the—"

"—Maeve is dead!" Your heart sinks, as, for the first time in your life, you see Spencer Reid exhibit anger. No, not anger. He is not angry. Not with you, at least. He's hurt. "I am never going to get over her because she is dead. I watched a bullet go into her head. I mourned her, and I told myself I would never let myself get that close to somebody again. Yet, here you stand."

You stay silent. You don't know if he's finished speaking. If he is, he doesn't let you know. He doesn't prompt you for a response. He continues before you even start to think of something to say back.

"I didn't plan on letting you into my life like this. When I met you, you were not supposed to be this important to me. Is that why you think I don't love you? Because you saw me and got attached at first sight, and had to work for me to give you attention?" Your chest aches. "Was it because I distanced myself from you for weeks in the beginning? Every coffee date, more spread out than the last. Not letting you into my space until you were my girlfriend? No sex for months?"

"You're angry," you state the obvious, and his eyebrows shoot up. A deprecating laugh leaves his lips. Not to deprecate himself, though. No, you.

"You somehow played a role in getting me out of the self-loathing pit I fell into after Maeve died, and now you're telling me I don't love you—Yes, I'm angry! We were fine two weeks ago. I loved you the same way I did two weeks ago as I do right now. I'm frustrated, because I don't understand how you can possibly believe my feelings for you have changed so drastically!"

"The books are new. And the addresses. And the phone number," you say, almost desperately.

"No. They're not. I have had that copy of that book for two years. Those addresses have been printed in there for longer. Everything you are finding are results of you noticing more about my apartment, which happens when you are in a space often enough. You will pick up on things you didn't notice the first time you were here. Or the second. Or maybe even the tenth. I have not hidden the fact that I had a girlfriend two years ago from you. Just how it ended." You don't have any energy to fight back, despite how badly you want to. You suppose, deep down, you know you deserve this. His bulleted words and cold voice. Even his sarcasm, as he drawls, "I hope you can forgive me for not making you privy to my ex-girlfriend's death."

"Spencer," you take a step forward, and he stiffens, so you halt.

Now, you feel stupid. Scrutinised under his gaze, knowing how ridiculous he probably now views you as. Starting an argument over something you should've just asked him about. Driving yourself crazy, letting every single element still fuelling your mind run dry, when you could've just said something.

"Is this going to be a one time thing?" he asks you, carefully levelling his voice. To hide how he really feels, or to make you feel worse, you don't know. "Or should I live in fear of you jumping to conclusions every time something from my past gets brought up?"

It isn't a nice assumption to make, but it's fair. You give him that. Still, your gut twists uncomfortably, each organ stuttering in their role of keeping you alive for only a second. Just enough for you to feel sick, and stumble backwards.

"I... I don't know," you provide him with honesty. "I'm sorry," you add, quietly. A poor attempt at making this situation any better. A bandaid over a bullet hole.

"I know," and you're sure he does. There's bound to be regret painted on your face, mixing wonderfully with fear of where this relationship is going to go now.

You don't even want to ask him, but you're sure if he doesn't force you to, you'll start throwing up at his feet. "Do you want me to go?"

A shuddering breath is his response. You take it for what it is, and nod your head with the most sincere smile you can conjure up. You barely have anything to collect before you leave. Just your ruined mind, and new astronomical statistics.

Fifty-two star deaths this century just became fifty-three.

your reblogs and replies are always welcome ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff

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moomuzan · 5 months ago

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ they are insanely obsessed with you

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ yandere!bsd men! dazai , fyodor , chuuya

It started small, almost imperceptible. The people who once filled your life—the casual friends, the familiar faces—began to drift away. A canceled plan here, an unanswered text there. At first, you brushed it off as coincidence, the natural ebb and flow of relationships. But then, one by one, the spaces in your life grew emptier, and the only constant that remained was him.

Dazai’s touch in your life was invisible to you but deliberate to him, every thread meticulously pulled to tighten the cocoon he was weaving around you. He told himself it was for love—for your protection. He convinced himself that each person he removed, each tie he severed, was another weight lifted from your fragile existence.

This man made it so easy, so seamless. A quiet word to Kunikida about how overworked you seemed lately, how you needed less responsibility and more time to rest. A subtle comment to Atsushi about giving you space because “too many people leaning on her might overwhelm her.” Even Yosano found herself discouraged from dragging you into her office for her usual banter, all because Dazai planted doubts in her mind about your health, your fragility.

When he intercepted the letter from an old friend of yours, he told himself it was love, tucking it into his desk drawer instead of giving it to you. He told himself it was love when he manipulated missions so that you were always with him, never with anyone else, where he could watch over you, shield you.

Every step he took, every string he pulled, was justified in his mind. “The world is cruel,” he would tell himself, pacing the confines of his apartment, his hands trembling with the intensity of his convictions. “But I can keep her safe. I can keep her happy. Isn’t that love?”

And when doubts crept in—when the hollow echo of your laughter, now rarer and more subdued, made him pause—he buried them deep. You needed him. You might not see it yet, but you did. The thought reassured him, soothed him, even as he sat alone in the dark, the weight of his actions pressing heavily on his chest.

Of course, he never questioned the morality of it since morality had never been part of his equation. The lines between right and wrong blurred the moment he decided he couldn’t lose you, couldn’t bear the thought of anyone or anything stealing you away.

Every time he looked at you, he reassured himself while his gaze lingered far too long, drinking in the sight of you like a man drowning. He told himself it was love when he watched you sleep, the soft rise and fall of your breath calming the storm in his chest, it was love when he saw the way you smiled at him, even if that smile didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. It must have been.

Still, there were moments—fleeting, fragile moments—when his mask cracked. Late at night, as he sat in his chair with a glass of whiskey untouched in his hand, he would wonder if this was love or obsession. He would remember Oda’s words, that love should be selfless, freeing, not this suffocating, consuming thing. But then he would think of you in the arms of someone else, laughing with someone else, and the thought alone was enough to make his blood turn cold. “It’s love,” he would whisper to himself, his voice hollow, his fingers curling tightly around the glass. “It has to be.”

„You are sick,” you whispered when you finally confronted him, the room drawing shadows heavier than the ones in his soul, though the words lacked the venom you intended. “This isn’t love. It’s control. It’s—it’s wrong.”

“Wrong?” He tilted his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and heartbreak, as though the very notion pained him. “Tell me, does the bird hate its cage when it keeps it from predators? Does it curse the one who feeds it, protects it, cherishes it?”

Like a pang of doubt that rippled through your resolve, the analogy struck something deep within you. He stepped closer still, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m doing this for you,” he said, and there was something almost mournful in his tone, as though he regretted your inability to see things his way. “You’re too precious to be left at the mercy of the world. I won’t let it destroy you. I won’t let anyone destroy you. Even if it means you hate me for it.”

Although you wanted to fight back, to scream, to push him away, the weight of his words pressed against you, leaving you vulnerable and unsure. He had always been good with words—too good—and now they tangled in your mind like webs, trapping you in the complexity of his logic.

Yet the longer you stood there, the more the fight drained out of you. Maybe it was the exhaustion of always doubting, always questioning. Or maybe it was the quiet, insidious truth that a part of you didn’t want to leave him. He had taken so much from you, but he had also filled the void in ways you couldn’t explain, couldn’t deny.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, and what you saw there wasn’t triumph—it was devotion. Twisted, unrelenting, suffocating devotion.

“I love you,” he said simply, and the words felt like both a confession and a death sentence.

You exhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

Sad, almost wistful, he smiled as though he had anticipated your answer. “You will,” he said. “In time, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly cares for you. And when you do, I’ll be here. Always.”

And though every fiber of your being told you to run, you stayed. Because the truth was, as terrifying as his love was, the thought of being without it scared you even more.

Deeply so, this break had shattered something inside Chuuya. It wasn’t just the loss of a partner, a comrade—no, it was something deeper, more primal. The day Dazai left was the day the world tilted, the day his mind fractured in ways even he couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t just about losing Dazai—it was about the fear of losing someone else, losing anyone else. That gnawing, desperate hunger to keep you close, to shield you from everything, to keep you from slipping through his fingers like Dazai had.

Naturally, he did what he had to do.

Once a space of normality, your room, was now a carefully constructed fortress. The curtains were always drawn, a soft, dim light casting everything in a sickly shade. He would stand outside your door for hours, listening for any sound, any sign that you were still there, still within his grasp. He had the ability to make his presence felt even when he wasn’t physically near you—his shadow stretching across your life, always lurking. Always watching.

When you woke in the mornings, he was there. When you went to sleep at night, he was still there, seated in the corner of your room, a glass of whiskey in hand, his gaze never leaving you.

The mafia executive wasn’t cruel. No, not at first. His charm, his words, they were as sweet as they were deadly. “I’m only doing this for us,” he would say, his voice warm, almost affectionate. He’d smile, but it never reached his eyes. “No one will hurt you. Not like they hurt me.”

He’d coax you into talking, into laughing, into behaving. His hands were gentle at first, trailing across your skin, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were, how precious you were, how lucky he was to have you all to himself. But every compliment, every touch, had an underlying current of control, an unspoken warning that you could never escape.

The world outside was no longer yours to navigate. No, Chuuya had made sure of that. You rarely left his quarters now—only when he deemed it necessary. Even then, he would accompany you, his eyes always watching. His influence reached deep into the Mafia, cutting off connections before they even had a chance to form. If you met with someone outside of his approval, they were gone. If anyone, anyone, even thought of stepping too close to you, they found themselves dealt with in ways you never saw coming.

With you no longer being free to come and go as you pleased, your missions were reduced, controlled, and carefully managed. No one would dare take you away from him. They knew what would happen if they did. Chuuya had made his message clear—you were his.

And yet, when you complied, when you didn’t resist, when you behaved, he was charming, attentive, a lover in every sense of the word. He’d lavish you with gifts, with praise, with everything you wanted and needed, until you almost forgot the trap that had closed around you. The sweetness of his attention almost made you believe that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the way things were meant to be. That maybe the way he looked at you—like a rare, priceless gem—was the way love was supposed to feel.

Yet when you didn’t behave—when you pushed, even slightly, when you questioned him or tried to leave—that’s when the change came. The door would slam shut behind you, his smile would vanish and he charming words would turn into cold, clipped sentences.

“Don’t make me remind you who’s in charge here.” His voice would be low, but there was no kindness left in it. Only an edge, sharp and unforgiving. When you would try to retreat, to hide from him, he would follow you—always.

“I’m not letting you leave,” he’d whisper in the dark, his breath warm against your neck, a cruel contrast to the steel in his tone. “Not again. I can’t lose you too.”

And then, there was that shift—like something snapping—in the way he moved, in the way he held you. He would pull you to him with such force that it almost hurt, his hands trembling, but only in that moment, when he feared losing you. His kisses would be hungry, demanding, as if trying to make up for everything he had already lost. His hands would grip your arms, your wrists, too tightly, as if afraid that you might disappear right in front of him.

“You’ll never leave me,” he would say, as much a promise as a threat. “I can’t lose you like I lost him. You understand that, don’t you?”

And in those moments, you could see it—the desperation behind his eyes. The way his usual smug demeanor broke down into something raw, something fragile. His need for control was no longer subtle—it was desperate, suffocating. Every time you tried to move away, to regain the smallest piece of freedom, he would pull you closer, until your world was nothing but him.

“Please,” you whispered once, “Chuuya, this isn’t love. It’s obsession.”

An empty smile formed on his lips. “Isn’t it the same thing, in the end? You and me… I can’t let you go. Not again. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. No one can take you from me, not ever again.”

And when you didn’t respond, when the hopelessness in your eyes spoke louder than words, he would close the distance, his hands gentle again—though his eyes remained cold, unyielding.

The charm was back, for now. But the coldness, the possessiveness, lingered beneath the surface, always. Because Chuuya had seen what happened when you slipped away from him before, and he would never make that mistake again.

You were his now, and he was never going to let you forget it.

It began so slowly, you didn’t notice at first. People started to slip from your life, fading like mist, until one day, you looked around and realized the room felt quieter than it ever had before. Your friends, the ones who had once made you laugh, once filled your life with noise and warmth, were no longer around. Their texts became less frequent, the calls abandoned, the invitations to dinner or even simple catch-ups slowly turning into hollow echoes of what they once were.

At first, you reasoned with yourself. People get busy. Life shifts. Maybe they just didn’t need you anymore, just as you had begun to doubt the sincerity of some relationships in your own life. But as time passed, you began to notice one constant that remained, like a shadow that stretched across your world—Fyodor Dostoevsky: The man who was always there, always watching, always waiting. The more others drifted away, the closer he became, until it felt almost like a necessity. He would always ask how you were, but the words felt laced with something more, as if he already knew, already understood. Perhaps that’s why, despite the growing isolation, you didn’t push him away. Because, in truth, he was the only one who seemed to see you, the only one who seemed to understand what you were feeling, even when you didn’t know yourself.

Yet when the silence grew louder, the empty spaces between texts grew wider, Fyodor’s presence was a gentle murmur, his soft gaze reassuring in its subtle way. He didn’t say much, but he was always there, sitting across from you, those dark eyes watching, studying you like a puzzle he had already solved. His proximity became an anchor, even if you weren’t sure why you needed it.

“You are the only one who understands me,” you’d hear him whisper sometimes, his voice so soft it felt like an incantation, a fragile truth you never quite dared to speak.

While you told yourself that you understood, too, you saw his world, too. You recognized his loneliness. His isolation. His need to control everything, to manipulate the chaos that surrounded him, to shape reality the way he wanted. You understood because, in some twisted way, his isolation mirrored yours. You, too, had been abandoned by those who once mattered. You, too, had felt the creeping emptiness, the quiet desolation that threatened to swallow you whole.

But what did it mean when Fyodor told you, “You are the only one who understands me”? Was it love? Was it genuine, or just another manipulation, another carefully spun thread designed to pull you deeper into his world, a world that you felt, over time, was slowly becoming your own?

He never had to make grand declarations. He really didn’t need to. His quiet, constant presence was enough. Each time you looked at him, you could see the way he measured every moment, every glance, the way he waited for you to take the first step. He made you feel special, in a way that was both intoxicating and suffocating. When he touched you—just a brush of his fingers against yours, a fleeting, lingering gaze—you didn’t pull away. How could you? You wanted to be close to him. But the closer you got, the more you wondered if this was how it was always meant to be: your life, your entire existence, distilled into this quiet, almost oppressive bond between the two of you.

Though few, his words were always chosen with care. “The world is a cruel place,” he would murmur, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he leaned in closer, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “But I would never abandon you like the others have. I know you better than they ever could.” His smile was slight, almost imperceptible, but there was something in it—something dark—that made your heart skip.

As you stopped questioning him, the isolation, the growing distance from everyone else, felt inevitable, like the natural progression of your life. With each subtle shift, you found that the empty spaces filled with him, and his smile, cold and calculated, became all you had. When your phone rang now, it was always Fyodor. When someone else tried to reach out, you would hesitate, knowing it was only him who could make you feel understood, make you feel like you mattered.

And yet, there were nights—long, lonely nights—when you would wonder. You would sit in the dim light of your apartment, staring at the reflection in the window, and ask yourself if this was really what you wanted.

But those doubts never lasted long. Fyodor was always there, always beside you, his presence so unyielding that even when you wanted to scream, you couldn’t, you shouldn’t.

“You don’t need them,” he would say, his voice soft as he stood behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Not when you have me.”

There was comfort in those words. There was safety. Protection. And the longer you stayed, the more the world outside seemed distant, irrelevant. No one else could give you this, no one else could fill the silence like he could.

“You’re the only one who truly understands me,” he repeated one night, his words low, heavy, as his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you into him. There was something cold in the way he said it, but it wasn’t unkind. It wasn’t harsh.

Wanting to argue, wanting to tell him that he was wrong, that this wasn’t how love worked, you hesitated because, in that moment, you realized with a terrible clarity that you, too, didn’t know what love was anymore. All you knew was him. All you knew was this dark, quiet world he had created, a world where you were his and no one else’s.

Deep down, unraveling in that place you didn’t want to acknowledge, you understood. He was right. No one else understood you the way he did. No one else saw the loneliness in you, the one that he so carefully nurtured. You were his. And he was yours.

There was no escape anymore. Only him. Only his presence.

And so, with a quiet surrender, you accepted it. Because, after all, you told yourself, he was the only one who understood you.

hello a/n i went partially insane with chuuyas part … hehe ??

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melliemell · 5 months ago

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HEEy !! It’s the nonnie with the glasses back at it once again >:)

I’ve been thinking, annd how do you think the bsd cast (as always i would love if u added both the idiots aka dazai and ranpo) would go abt asking their S/O to move in with them? Ofc add any chara u like!!

ur awesome love u Pookie🫶☺️, — NONNIE WHO FOUND THEIR GLASSES !!!! (YIPPIE FOR THAT!)

hiii babess, hope you're doing well!!

you never fail to deliver with the cool idea, do you 👀👀

BSD ft. How they'd go about moving in with their S/O

(Dazai, Fyodor, Ranpo)

Dazai

Dazai’s not an easy man to live with and he’s perfectly aware of that.

Would play it off as a casual remark on a random Wednesday, a teasing smile plastered in place yet his gaze won’t leave yours as he observed your reaction while acting carefree.

“I’ll get to wake up to your angelic face every morning. What man wouldn’t want that?” he’d say, draping an arm around your shoulders as you’d roll your eyes at his antics. You’d be all too used to him by now.

But the thought would swirl in Dazai’smind for days. Feeling your secure embrace was too sweet a treat, and your chest glued to his back had a calming effect he was steadily becoming addicted to. If Dazai had the opportunity to have your warm breath tickling his nape, mind not even fully awake to complain about it as he floated in that blissful oblivion of early mornings–he was getting it.

He’d be spacing out days on end, coming up with as many scenarios of domestic life that he’d end up completely engrossed by the idea. It would be too hilarious to miss out on the play-dress of adult life. Even cleaning chores would seem exiting to him, knowing fully that vacuuming the house could just as easily turn into rawdogging it on the kitchen floor–clean or not.

Dazai’d have you all to himself.

Don’t expect you’d be moving in with him. He’s occupying your place the moment he gets the green flag. He’s so used to not doing anything all day that finally having a constant source of entertainment might do him some good. Not you though. Probably. But at least you’d get your boyfriend trailing after you, puppy eyes abused to the brim as he pleads for attention at every possible opportunity.

Good luck.

Fyodor

That’s the thing… Fyodor’s so out of the loop of normal life-living that he’d probably not have a home. Places he stays at? Yes, sure. As lavish as he wants or acceptably modest and enough to meet his needs? Very likely. But a home–a specific location he comes back to time and time again, seeking comfort in its familiarity? Unlikely.

It would start out as him simply needing you to do little tasks for him. Fyodor’d keep an eye out on you, making sure you arrive to the specific city before him as you checked around the territory. Never staying in the same place as him but still keeping you close by. Just in case.

He’d need to establish a secure enough dependance from your side before he lets himself explore any romantic paths with you. There’s a reassuring quality to it, and Fyodor’s not the type to rush into any idea unless he’s completely prepared for the desired outcome. But once you’re together…

Get prepared for an ungodly amount of surprise visits from this man. There won’t be so much as you moving in together–the topic most likely not even discussed yet–but you gradually getting accustomed to the sight of him already at your place, waiting patiently as he sipped his cup of tea by the kitchen table.

He’d be really good at nestling perfectly into your routine, knowing exactly where you were at all times. Not living together exactly but… existing together, maybe? It won’t be so much about the physical part, simply being in the same space together bringing a smile to his face. He’d stop arranging for his own place eventually, opting to stay with you every time you had to move to a different location.

It was unusual, but Fyodor wasn’t a usual man after all.

Ranpo

Suspiciously too eager for the moving-in together. Until you realise his plan all along–he won’t need to take cabs every time he goes home; you’ll take him home. Now isn’t that just perfect? You know where you live, and you live together.

Ranpo never really understood the excitement over domestic life. It was definitely a win for all the attention he was going to get constantly, but it’s not like anything too major has happened. You just have to share laundry now, no biggie.

Until the day he gets back from work, tired to the bones from dealing with people too stupid to let him do his job quickly, and alone. It’s in those late hours that he stumbles though the darkness to your home and…

There you are. Snuggled up in bed and waiting for him with a tired smile on your face. Ranpo’s chest will feel light, the weight lifting instantly as he lays beside you, cheek smashed into your neck as your scent engulfed him. He’s out cold within minutes; just having this secure presence around him would set him at ease instantly.

Ranpo really thought nothing much would change between you after moving together. And he was right, the good old dynamic of you both was still there, but… there was something else. Something new lurking in the early mornings sometimes, or the hum of your voice as you sang under your breath as you washed the dishes.

Little things.

Things he was exposed to constantly now that managed to make him stop in his tracks and just–exist in that moment. With you.

Ranpo’s never felt more content after stealing you away like this.

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syoounn · 1 year ago

Text

~ Their Reactions not giving them physical affection.

~ Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°

"Belllaaaa~"

He said, begging and pleading at you he was looking at you with those puppy eyes of his as you continue to ignore him.

Dazai whimpers as you’re starting to ignore him. At this point, he has no other choice than to pout and plead. He buries his head against the pillow and speaks with a pouty voice.

“Come onnnn…. You’re not gonna break and feel bad for me? Maybe even forgive me? I mean, I’m love of your life, right?"

You sigh.. "If you haven't touched that cake, you wouldn't be in this situation." you said.

“Please, please, please…. Just come cuddle with me… I can handle any punishment you give me, anything… but not denial of physical affection…”

"No means no." You said and got back the attention to the book.

Dazai’s frown deepens further when you continue to deny him. The words ‘no means no’ are the absolute worst thing you could’ve said to him right now.

His arms slowly let go of yours, and he folds his, folding his arms and turning in the opposite direction of you. His voice now has a more cold but also pouty tone to it as he mumbles.

“Fine… but you’ll come to regret denying me….”

As you felt your eyelids getting heavy.. you closed your eyes and slowly fell asleep, still holding the book. Dazai looks over towards you and notices that you look like you’re fast asleep, still trying to uphold the pouty behaviour. He lets out a soft sigh before he reaches to wrap his arms around you and pulls you closer. After this, he buries his face into your neck, enjoying the warmth of your skin.

A light chuckle then escapes his lips as he decides to be mischievous and kisses your neck softly.

Dazai decides to continue this behaviour, continuing to kiss and nibble your neck and hold you close as the silence fills the room. The only other sounds that accompany the moment are the light snores from you as well as the soft breathing coming from himself. He’s now content and no longer pouting.

You ended up having hickeys this morning.

•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°

You were busy handling papers... as Chuuya looks at you as he's saying it's time for you two to cuddle.

"Can't cuddle right now, Chuu.. need to finish this... you can sleep first." You said as returning your attention back to the papers.

Chuuya looks slightly disappointed but accepts it. He sighs a little.

“Fine. I’ll just... lie here.”

He puts his arms over you anyway, not expecting much more than being allowed to hold you in his grasp.

He remains quiet, staring up at the ceiling. He glances at you for a moment before turning his gaze back towards the ceiling. You notice that his muscles are noticeably tensing, his jaw clenched. As if he’s trying to hold himself back from something.

“You know what, screw it. If you’re gonna stay up all goddamn night, I’ll stay up with you. There’s no way that I can sleep while you’re still up.”

He shifts toward your direction and pulls you to the bed so that he’s lying close beside you. One of his arms wraps around you as he turns the lights off. His voice is soft in the darkness, but you can sense that he must be in a bad mood. You don't need to see the frown on his face to know that.

"I was not done yet!" You said protesting.

"Too bad. You need to get some rest, and I'll see to it that you do." His tone of voice is sharp and short, but at the same time, you detect a touch of concern.

Chuuya gently pulls you closer and settles you onto his chest. The faint smell of his cologne, expensive wine, and sweat radiates off his skin. The rhythm of his heartbeat is steady and slow. He's clearly trying hard to be patient, but his agitation is barely contained. The tension is palpable.

"I'll make you tired whether you want it or not."

His embrace tightens as he begins to stroke your hair gently. His hand slides up and down your head, the friction of his fingers running through your hair being strangely soothing. Every time his hand goes across your hair, it's like another wave of tiredness washes over you, making it increasingly harder to keep your eyes open.

As you can't keep your eyes open , you eventually dozed off and ended up panicking about the papers the next day. However.. it was worth it.

•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°

You don't really see any reason for him to be getting declined for physical affection or.. until you ask him...

"Hmm.. how would you react having no cuddles and kisses?"

He raises an eyebrow, but a small smirk forms on his lips as he reaches for you and pulls you close, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair gently. "You do realise you could ask for affection like I am your lover, instead of asking an open-ended question with the intent to start a debate?"

Despite the words, Fyodor remains calm and collected as he runs his fingers through your soft hair. "I trust the absence of physical contact was what you were insinuating?"

"I-..I was just asking.." You said.

Again, he lets out a soft hum. Very well. I'll answer, even though I find the question in itself quite strange. "Would I be upset with no cuddles or kisses? Of course not. I don't require such acts to be satisfied."

Fyodor's voice now holds a certain tone of amusement. "Now, is your curiosity sated?" He pulls you close again, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead once more.

You nodded in response..

Fyodor chuckles softly. Then, I shall continue to be affectionate. "Now, let me ask you something, dear. Would you rather spend your nights without my warm embrace?" His voice holds a certain degree of teasing, but there's a note of seriousness to it, his deep eyes locking with yours.

"No..! Of course not..!"

His smile grows wider as he continues to stroke your hair. "Then you shall not be without it." He pulls you closer, planting another peck on your forehead and then on your lips. You melt on his little kiss as you glad to ask about that.

•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°

Both of you are just relaxing at the couch as Nikolai is always asking you these quizzes.. and of course.. you wanna make it a little hard for him.

“Alright~”

Nikolai grins as he adjusts himself to sit up properly, hands behind his back. He looks at you with curious intensity in his eyes.

“Okay…. First question!”

His grin widens even further as he waits for you to give him a nod to start.

"Oh.. if i got it right.. you won't get cuddles and kisses, " you said..

“And if you get it wrong?”

Nikolai asks, smirking as he waits for you to answer his question. He already knows what you’re gonna choose, but it’s just a matter of seeing if you’ll fall for one of his trap questions he’ll put in later.

"You'll get one.."

“Okay then, I’ll kiss and cuddle you if you get it wrong~”

He states."The question is ‘is the sky blue?’ What will you choose, yes or no~?"

"It's light blue." You said correctly.

“Oh~”

Nikolai says playfully, pretending to be surprised by your answer. He seems amused by the fact that you specified ‘light’ blue instead of saying just… blue.

“But that’s right, so you guessed correctly~"

He says, smiling at you flirtatiously as he wiggles closer to you. He grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer and closer to his lap.

“I guess I gotta kiss and cuddle you.”

Before you could even do that, you stopped him and smiled..

"I got it right.. so no kisses and cuddles.."

“But I said I’ll give those to you if you guessed correctly—

Nikolai grumbles, playing along with the charade while still smiling playfully at you. He lets out a few chuckles as he rests his hands on your hips and moves his head over yours. You can tell from his gaze just how much he enjoys playing with you instead of being serious.

“No fair~”

“Hm…" well then…”

Nikolai leans in closer so he’s right inches away from your face.

“I guess I’ll have to just…”

He says before suddenly he leans in a tiny bit more, almost as if he’s about to kiss you. He keeps getting closer and closer until his nose is almost touching your lips.

As Nikolai pulls his head away from yours, he laughs. He notices that his little joke worked and that you really did get flustered by his fake, almost kiss. He couldn’t help but feel pleased about your reaction.

He smiles mischievously and leans in to actually kiss you on the lips that time. Only this time, it’s a proper full-on smooch. His lips are soft and tender as they linger on yours.

Nikolai slowly pulls back once more, taking in the moment and your panting breaths while you’re left a flustered mess. He giggles at your reaction once more and snickers while watching you try to gather yourself back together. He can’t help himself but kiss you again, lingering his lips on yours for an extended period of time. Nikolai doesn’t want to end this, not yet. He enjoys seeing you so flustered and red.

And now.. you've ended up being overly showered with kisses.

•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°

Sigma has been spending too much time at the Casino again. And now you’re being all pouty and refused to give him cuddles.

He then let out a deep breath, seeing you all pouty and refusing to give him cuddles. He couldn’t help but have his soft, loving eyes widen a bit, thinking how could you be so incredibly adorable. He then slowly walked over to you. “My love…?” He then reached out slowly to wrap his arms around you, hoping to get you to smile again.

As you still didn’t reply or smile back to him, he then started looking at you even more intently. He then started hugging you tightly, trying his best to make you feel comfortable.

He didn’t know what to do as he couldn’t remember what triggered your pouty look, and he couldn’t bear the thought of upsetting you.

He then started rubbing your back, trying to show his affection physically, and hoping this would ease the tension.

He then pulled away and started playing with your hair, looking into your eyes as he tilted his head out of curiosity to see if you were still going to remain stubborn enough to not smile at him. After playing with your hand for a few seconds, he then gave it a soft kiss, hoping this would break the tension.

And you couldn't pretend to be mad at him anymore... you were melting and blushing from his touch as you just gave him a hug.

"I miss you..."

As you suddenly hugged him, all his worries instantly melted away, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly and not letting go. His mind then cleared itself of all thoughts, as he focused his attention on just feeling you in his arms.

He then started tracing circles on your back, while one hand remained holding on to yours. He then spoke softly as his other hand moved to the back of your head and started slowly stroking your hair. “I miss you too..”

You ended up clinging to him all night feeling guilty that you tried to ignore him and would never do that again, you mean.. how, can you ignore this adorable person?!

•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°

#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #sigma x reader #nikolai x reader #dazai x reader

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fyodor-s-rat · 2 years ago

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BUNGOU STRAY DOGS - you unexpectedly hug your rival

ft.: Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa, Fyodor, Nikolai

summary: when you find out they're alive after a deadly mission, you can't help but hug them.

Dazai

Dazai looked at you with a surprise look as you buried your face into his chest. He was too stunned to move.

He was expecting anything but his rival to hug him. You and Dazai weren't really enemies, but you didn't like each other either. So why are you hugging him?

He didn't know what to do with his hands, but after a while, he awkwardly put his right hand on your back.

"There, there," he pated you.

You finally pulled away. Your face was red. You were expecting him to make some snarky comment, but he was quiet. Only a small smirk was dancing on his lips.

"It never happened," you grunted as you walked away. Little did you know, Dazai was quietly observing you with a blush on his cheeks.

Chuuya

"What the-"

Chuuya's first thought was that you wanted to kill him. Why would you run to him otherwise? Imagine his confused look when you wrapped your arms around his body.

At first, he wanted to shake you off, but the longer he was looking at you, the more his eyes softened. He chuckled.

"Well, someone truly missed me," he smirked.

"Shut up," you snorted, and lightly punched him into his arm. "I will still kill you one day."

Akutagawa

When you ran into his embrace, his first thought was to knock you down. However, his eyes widened when you hugged him.

He was just awkwardly standing there, rethinking all his life choices. He wanted to push you away, but he just couldn't.

He was glad you couldn't see his red face. He hated physical touch, yet this was something new to him. This was... nice. Akutagawa didn't hug you back, but he didn't push you away either. He just... stood there.

When you pulled away, he looked away, coughing, trying to hide his blushing face.

"Don't do it again."

Fyodor

When you saw Fyodor walking out of the building well and alive, your heart skipped a beat.

He was your boss, and you hated him. You even swore that you would kill him. So what is happening? Why do you feel this weird tingling in your stomach?

Fyodor noticed you, but before he could say anything, you ran into his arms, almost knocking him over. You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest.

He had a shocked expression on his face. He didn't move as he stared down at you in disbelief. Fyodor expected you to attack him, but you are... hugging him? He was so lost.

When you pulled away, he still didn't say a word. You felt embarrassed, but his confused face made you smile.

Nikolai

"My dear Y/n! So nice to see you again!"

Your eyes widened as you looked at the clown. You couldn't believe it. He was supposed to be dead.

He came closer to you, holding a knife and smiling like a maniac. He wanted to say something, but you suddenly fell into his embrace, your arms holding his body.

He was stunned. For the first time in his life, he had no silly comments. He was at loss for words. Nikolai dropped the knife he was supposed to stab you with. Instead, he hugged you back.

"My, my! Would you look at that! I had no idea you liked me that much!" he smirked while caressing your hair.

You wanted to pull away, but he kept holding you. He didn't know why, but it was... pleasant.

No, no, no, no! Now I do have to kill her!

Nikolai's head was overwhelmed with thoughts.

#bsd #bsd scenarios #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai headcanons #dazai #dazai x reader #chuuya headcanons #chuuya x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #akutagawa x reader #bsd akutagawa #bsd fluff

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luvfy0dor · 1 year ago

Text

“You Know That I'm Obsessed With Your Body ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, H.P. Lovecraft

Warnings; Suggestive, kisses, hickeys, bite marks, allusions to self harm (Dazai), sh scars (Dazai), prolly a little ooc

Description; BSD men and their physical attributes

A/n; CAS lyric title!!! But I cannot bring myself to write reqs RN so............but guys i actually talked to a guy OMG never thought I'd have big enough balls but I got his ig ^w^

⑅Chuuya Nakahara⑅

Chuuyas arms are beautiful to you, they're not insanely buff and they're not thin, but at a perfect equilibrium. They're decorated with intricate tattoos and beautiful colors, and sometimes small dotted lines left by your teeth or maroon spots formed by your love and passion for each other. You loved feeling them wrap around your torso or waist with him leaning his head against your back, letting all the thoughts in his mind flow from his mouth like a waterfall. Other times, he'd hang his arms over your shoulders, letting you feel his biceps against the nape of your neck, ghosting over the baby hairs on your skin. His arms can carry you too, no matter your weight. If it'd make you feel better, he'd use his ability to help and reassure you that he won't drop you or let you get hurt.

“There we go, darlin', see, I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt. Literally not even the strongest gust of wind could knock me over with you right now, so quit worrying.”

⑅Osamu Dazai⑅

Dazai has such a gorgeous torso, bandaged or not. His skin is soft on contrast to the rough and volatile life he's always lead. The only patches of skin that aren't smooth are the ones that are littered with past scars, whether self inflicted or from other people. When Dazai trusts you enough, he'll ask you to help him take off his bandages before bed, letting your fingers brush over the rigid bumps and sharply inhaling while adjusting to your sweet touch in a new, naked place. He lets you kiss the scars and it helps him feel a little relaxed receiving your acceptance through soft kisses and affection instead of being pitied or shamed for his past. It's not like you encourage it, but you don't waste your breath on lecturing him on why he shouldn't have. It's in the past, so instead you'll offer your support for him now rather than dwelling on what you can't change.

“Mmnn...your lips are so soft on my back, baby...keep going, sweetheart, you know how much I love feeling your kisses on my skin...”

⑅Nikolai Gogol⑅

Nikolais thighs could resurrect a dead man, and you couldn't help but feel the same way every time you had your head between or against them. Occasionally your hands would hold them apart and squeeze or grope at them, feeling the firmness beneath the palm of your hand. The pressure from your fingertips leaves temporary pale spots with every pinch and your teeth and tongue leave red ones in your wake as you kiss, suck, and bite all over his thigh, and he loves it. Nikolai loves the harsh feeling of your teeth clamping around his skin, making him gasp and giggle in excitement with a hand on your neck encouraging you to continue. He's got a higher pain tolerance, so if you like to give lovebites, especially on thighs, he's your guy.

“Ah-! Oh, don't worry dove, it doesn't hurt. You know I have a good pain tolerance! You can keep going, hehe, I don't mind it.”

⑅Fyodor Dostoevsky⑅

Fyodors hands are thin and pale aside from some select spots with higher blood concentration. His nails are bitten down to the quick almost always and his fingers are bony and thin. They rest gently on your hips when you sit on his lap while he types or just relaxes with you, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of either your top or bottoms. Sometimes they'll travel upwards, resting against your midsection and making you shiver from their low temperature. He'd laugh under his breath at your reaction and slide them further up, loving the idea that he has you squirming in his grasp. Otherwise, he'd keep a hand on your thigh, rubbing it out of habit modestly. In public he keeps his hands to himself, but in private his hands have a mind of their own.

“Are they that cold, Moya Lyubov? You'll get used to it eventually, unless you'd like to find your own way to warm my hands up?”

⑅Sigma⑅

Sigmas jawline is so defined and Everytime you look at it, an overwhelming urge to kiss along it bubbles up inside of you. Sigma doesn't dislike it, but he'll act like he does, always squirming and playfully grimacing. Eventually he'll give in though, holding your hand while you pepper soft pecks along his skin. He'll return them all over your cheeks and nose, tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can't help but watch Sigmas fingers trace over his jawline while he's deep in thought about this that and the other, admiring how perfect it looks on him.

“H-hey, knock it off, I'm in the middle of fillin' out papers! I said quit it- huff...fine, just a few though! You're really distracting, you know that?”

Bonus; ⑅ H.P. Lovecraft⑅

His hair is so long and luscious- how could you not want to run your fingers through it while your sleepy boyfriend lays his head in your lap? The upper half is smooth and straight while it changes into silky curls towards the bottom, though they're not the tightest and allow for your fingers to brush through them with minimal effort. He loves the feeling of your hands against his scalp, giving soft hums and groans of a relaxed pleasure. His face has his usual neutrality regardless of how nice it feels to get his head massaged by his lover. He frequently lets you pull it into a ponytail or put it into braids or whatever style you please. He lets you brush it, too, as long as you start at the bottom instead of ripping the brush through his hair.

“Mnn...that feels nice, dear...don't mind if I fall asleep on top of you, I can't help it.”

A/n; I feel so bad for not getting to requests, something like this was the easiest thing to do this week though because I had mock trial comp right after school so i couldn't write anything from 8am-7;30 pm some nights and it was the end of the quarter so i had to focus more on school work.

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literatureloverx · 6 months ago

Note

Would BSD men sacrifice their true love for the sake of the world, or would they let the world burn?

I know you are on a break for a while, so feel free to reply any time you feel like replying. However, I do sincerely wish you are resting properly and eating well. You are being missed and appreciated, our dearest Snow White, who is as beautiful and graceful as her name!

-🛵🌻

Awww, you’re flattering me, 🛵🌻-anon! Thank you so much. ♥️ Please forgive me for keeping some of these brief without much explanation—I’m still unwell. 🥺♥️

Please keep in mind that my requests are actually closed! I made an exception because this one intrigued me.♥️

Would BSD men sacrifice their true love for the sake of the world, or would they let the world burn?

Featured characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nikolai Gogol, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

BSD MEN x fem!reader

I know this might surprise many of you, but I believe FYODOR might actually be capable of sacrificing the world for his darling. While we don’t know much about him, we do know he is intensely focused on his singular goal and unwaveringly confident in it. However, love is unpredictable—it can make even the most logical person act irrationally. Fyodor, being a semi-canon yandere and canonically willing to gift his darling an entire country as a Valentine’s Day present, shows that he could prioritise his darling in unexpected ways.

Though he is detached and calculative, this doesn’t necessarily mean his obsession lies solely with his ideal world and not his darling. His perception of love likely wouldn’t be romantic or warm—after all, this is Fyodor we’re talking about—but that doesn’t make it any less consuming. If he were to sacrifice the world, it would likely appear to be a practical, impersonal decision on the surface, though it would stem from deeply personal feelings.

Of course, his darling would have to bear the burden of being his weakness, paying the price for making him burn the world down for her.

DAZAI doesn't see a reason to live and has a complicated inner moral compass —if he even has one at all. If he were to find another reason to live beyond his darling, he might let the world burn to protect that purpose. Otherwise, he would likely choose to sacrifice his darling along with himself, as he would want to die together with them.

In doing so, he would simultaneously honour Odasaku's dying wish to save innocent people and do good, while also fulfilling his own desire for a double suicide—albeit in a twisted and tragic way.

CHUUYA… my beloved Chuuya. He would sacrifice you for the sake of the world, but not without crying his heart out in the process. He’s someone who carries his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tries to mask it with his tough exterior. This decision wouldn’t just break him—it would shatter him. He’d be haunted by the memory of what he’d done, the sound of your voice, your smile, and the warmth you brought into his life.

After that, he would never be the same. Chuuya, with all his passion and fire, would lose a part of himself—his joy, his light, and perhaps even his will to keep going. Though he wouldn’t let the world burn for you, his sacrifice would scorch his soul in ways no one else could see. He would shoulder the weight of the decision, carrying it like an eternal wound, always hidden beneath his bravado.

I don’t believe he has it in him to let the entire world burn just to keep you. Chuuya’s sense of duty, his unwavering commitment to the people he cares for, and his understanding of the bigger picture wouldn’t allow him to prioritise one life over billions. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t destroy him. Deep down, he’s just a man with a heart far too big for the world he lives in.

Yet, in his own way (or maybe even literally), he would die the day you did. Perhaps he would let himself waste away, quietly fading from the world as he lost the only person who made it feel like home. Or perhaps he would go out in a blaze of fury, throwing himself into battles he knew he wouldn’t return from. Either way, the Chuuya you knew—the one who loved you with all his being—would be gone, leaving only a shadow of the man who once was.

NIKOLAI is an obsessive individual, deeply scarred by trauma, pain, and mental instability. He would undoubtedly let the world burn for his darling. Despite his philosophical outlook, which claims to encompass all of humanity, his approach is ultimately rooted in his own personal experiences and inner struggles. At the end of the day, everything is about him.

His so-called friendship with Fyodor is a prime example of this—he clings to it not because Fyodor is a fascinating person in his own right, but because he believes Fyodor is the only one who truly understands him. Not once have we seen Nikolai genuinely reflect on Fyodor’s goals or thoughts. Similarly, his darling would need to be someone who both understands and cherishes him, which would inevitably drive his romantic obsession with her.

There’s no chance Nikolai would sacrifice his darling for anything. However, after letting the world burn for her, would he ultimately kill her because she understands him better than even Fyodor? The possibility is disturbingly high.

Before meeting the ADA Dazai and Atsushi, AKUTAGAWA would likely have let the world burn for his darling without hesitation. His overwhelming need for validation, coupled with his devotion to those he holds dear, would drive him to extreme lengths, prioritising his personal attachments above all else. His harsh upbringing and struggles for survival have made him fiercely protective of those who matter to him, making it plausible that he would abandon the world for his darling’s sake.

However, after his experiences with Atsushi, Akutagawa would find himself in a moral dilemma. These encounters push him to question his black-and-white worldview, challenging him to consider the value of broader ideals like justice, compassion, and sacrifice for the greater good. His budding respect for Atsushi and his complex, unresolved feelings toward Dazai would weigh heavily on his conscience, creating an internal struggle.

While he may still feel a deep, almost obsessive desire to protect his darling at any cost, the lessons he’s learned would make him pause.

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whathorselegs · 2 months ago

Text

Doing my usual "lets go back and read random BSD chapters" and I can't help but notice how different Fyodor is now to when he was first introduced.

I've made a few posts pointing out how Fyodor and Dazai have similar panels, but I'm starting to think he's actually mimicking Dazai's mannerisms on purpose now.

I don't have a lot of canon proof other than, ~a feeling~, I get looking at him, so consider this a headcanon rather than a theory.

Warning Manga spoilers under the cut!

Like, Fyodor, why does this keep happening??? Fyodor's versions of these poses also all happen later in the manga than Dazai's versions.

Now, there's the argument that Fyodor wasn't there for half of these, but we do know he's a hacker and he was obsessed with Dazai for a time. I do believe he would just sit there watching Dazai's movements on cameras to learn his patterns and habits in the name of defeating him.

Compare how he holds himself now, to how he did when he was first introduced.

He's a shut in who bites his nails, doesn't take care of his posture or appearance. He's so used to being behind the curtains he's off putting to be directly around.

Whereas Dazai is a chameleon, he blends in anywhere he goes. If I was an immortal so out of touch with my own humanity and basic identity, I probably pick someone to mimic their behaviours too.

Ironic that he choose the man who doesn't consider himself human to learn from.

I'm also drawn to this panel specifically.

(Very suspicious choice of words there, considering the current manga arc, but I digress)

Typically when we think of vampires, we think of blood sucking immortals, but the vampire we have in BSD is based of Dracula. Dracula specifically poses the question of "What if vampires stole who you are as well?". The idea that you can't consume someone's very life without having their soul linger on with you.

The Count learns to blend in with modern society through Johnathan, from learning from him and by feeding off him. Mina, Renfield and Lucy all slowly lose who they are the more influence the Count has over them.

This panel says he's soulless, he's 'empty', he's a vampire waiting to steal someone else's soul to fill him up. Now, that could be a hint at what his ability turned out to be, but it could also mean how he's mimicking Dazai.

But why mimic Dazai?

Well, simply put, he was the only one Fyodor saw as an equal and we know he wanted a companion who he considered to be his equal. So why not make himself more like the man he wants at his side. To obtain Dazai, he became Dazai.

Problem is Dazai hates himself, he also seems to dislike any character that's convinced they are the same. (Note: Not characters Dazai sees himself in, like Atsushi, but characters who insist to him that they are the same, like Mori and Fyodor)

It was a doomed plot from the start.

However, Dazai is no longer his goal. Atsushi is. Fyodor knows Atsushi greatly admires Dazai, so continuing to mimic Dazai's mannerisms to connect them together in Atsushi's mind could be part of his plan now.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #bsd fyodor #bsd manga #bsd manga spoilers #bsd headcanons

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coolyiooo · 1 year ago

Text

Overstimulating BSD Men

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

❗WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, overstimulation, begging, praise, degrading, pulling, scratching, gagging, breeding kink, moaning, groaning, whimpering, and etc❗

This was the first BSD smut I wrote but I edited it a bit to make it better. it's a bit short (I feel like it is) but hope you enjoy it :)

🖤DAZAI🖤

You just wanted to punish Dazai for teasing you so much today. So you decided to just drive him over the edge with just your hand. Your hand was moving up and down on his throbbing cock. Your hand and his dick were wet and slimy from his previous orgasms. He couldn't stop moaning and whimpering. He kept on twitching while a small amount of drool dripped from the corners of his lips. Some of his own cum was on his stomach. His hands were clenched so tightly that his fingernails were digging into his skin.

You kept kissing his cheeks, neck, and temple as you kept massaging his cock. He was a sight to behold that's for sure. You kept giving him so many praises but also small degrading comments, only fueling to his euphoric release.

"Mnn~ ah- your hand feels so mph!- amazing, bella~" Dazai moans while his cock throbbed.

You kissed his neck, making him shiver slightly "you look so beautiful like this dazai~ but you also look pathetic being covered in your own cum" you taunted with a slight smirk

"P-please.. b-bella mmmn~ I can't handle more of this ah!-" he groaned.

The overwhelming amount of pleasure was becoming unbearable. His body was becoming hot. His heart rate was racing, yet he felt nothing but pleasure and it was only getting better and better.

"Why should I when the most beautiful sight is you cumming just by my hand? Plus you can't stop throbbing and moaning like a little man whore, it's really music to my ears" you degraded him

His cock only throbbed more when you degraded him. Something about you making him so submissive like this was so arousing for him. He can only moan louder. You then started to move your hand faster. Making his head fall back with his mouth open while moaning loudly .His cock throbbing aggressively. The sight could almost make you cum. Your underwear was drenched from your wet cunt.

"AH~! fuck! So f-fucking good~! Don't stop mmn~ I'm gonna cum again ah~ please don't s-stop!" He whimpered.

You smirked slightly "Oh, alright..since you asked so nicely"

You bent over to his sensitive cock and started to suck him off like your life depended on it. Your warm, sticky tongue wrapped around him perfectly.

He eyes shot wide open as he moaned loudly "B-BELLA! Y-yes! AHHH~!"

In a couple seconds, he thrusted upwards into your mouth to release his cum. Eyes and mouth wide open. His Back slightly arched. He was gasping for air. He felt like he was ascending to heaven, but it felt too sinful to be heaven, but if hell was like this, he wouldn't mind going.

He was panting and sweating while his body was hot and trembling aggressively. His eyes were now closed as his body was started to relax and calm down. You swallowed his cum before kissing his cheek with a small smile. He opened his eyes tiredly to see your beautiful face. All he could do was chuckle softly and say "that was...just...wow.."

💚RANPO💚

You wouldn't stop bobbing your head up and down Ranpo's cock even after he came a few times already. He just tastes so good and looks so irresistible when overstimulated, and his whimpers only made you keep going. His hand was behind your head as he caressed your hair and head.

"Mmn~! Ah~! You really can't have enough of me, huh, sugar~?" He whimpered

You lift your head off his dick with a pop, using your hands to rub him instead. You smirked slightly while looking at him. His cheeks were flushed while his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. It was evident that he was feeling amazing and loving the feeling of your mouth and skillful tongue.

"You taste so sweet ranpo~ I guess you are what you eat right?" You then started to bob your head up and down on his needy cock again.

He moaned out loud. His hands were squeezing the couch cushions. He was looking away with a blush face and a overwhelmed expression, eyes squeezed shut. He went back to whimpering loudly. His whole body was trembling with pleasure.

You lifted off his cock for a quick second "Your whimpers make me so wet ranpo~ your being such a good boy~" you said before sucking his cock again.

His cock twitched at the praise and he started to thrust into your mouth, making you start to gag on his cock, but it only made him feel even better. He looked down at you to get a better view of you. You looked up at him with what looked almost like an innocent face, but your action was far from it. The way you moved your head up and down just to make him cum again aroused him so much. He moaned and whimpered, feeling his release start to approach. His head tilted back while he arched his back slightly. His was exposing more of his neck while he did this.

"Mmhp! I'm going to- ah~ cum! gonna cum~! P-please let me~!" He whimpered

You only left the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking and slurping it beautifully while your hand rubbed the rest of his shaft, making him not able to last anymore. After a few seconds, he came on to your tongue, earning a loud, desperate moan. You could taste how sweet he was but you didn't swallow yet. You took him out of your mouth to open your mouth wide open for him to see how much he came into it. He blushed and started to become hard again at the sight, slightly whimpering again.

You swallow his cum and kissed his cock "such a good boy".

💜FYODOR💜

Fyodor is a very prideful man, so he would try his best to not fully express how he's feeling, but you know he's trying to hide it. Fyodor let you top him because you insisted you could make him feel just as good as he makes you, so here you are, jumping on his cock even after he came a couple times. His cum making it easier for you to move. Fyodor kept his moaning to a minimum but every once in awhile he'd let out short gasps or small moans. He is still human after all and it's a normal body function when your being overstimulated.

"Why are you hiding your voice Fedya? Mmn~ I want to know how good I'm making you feel" you moaned slightly while smirking

"Mnn~ well maybe you have to try a bit harder, darling~" he said while smirking as well

You pouted a bit but you knew he was trying his best to keep calm. You could feel how much his cock was throbbing inside of you, clearly Loving how your walls clench around him. You grabbed his hand and pressed it against ur stomach. "Can you feel how deep you are inside of me? Ah~ How your cock aches and twitches inside me~ you feel so fucking good mmn!- your the only one who can make me feel this good~"

He whimpered quietly from the feeling. He turned his head away from you. Eyes closed with a slight smile on his face. "Ah- hmm~ feeling is mutual...so please keep doing what your doing" he said trying not to sound to desperate.

"Mmnph! But it'd be amazing if you let me hear your voice..please Fedya~"

He looked at your eyes as if he was contemplating, but he decided to give into your desire and he laid his head on the pillow, eyes closed and moaning deeply. He truly was gorgeous. It made you squeeze him tighter and made you go rougher, making him moan more.

"Ahh~! Fedya do you want to come? Your close aren't you?" You clenched his hair, making him throb more.

"Mnn- yes, moya lyubov mph~ since you want it so bad" he still tried not to sound desperate

"But do you want to cum? Mmn~ it doesn't sound like you want to" you looked at him with pleading eyes

"Hmm~ of course, lyubov mmn- there's nothing more I want than to fill you up" his small smile never going away

"Then let me hear how much you want to cum..p-please~!"

He seemed pleased by how much you've been begging to hear him moan, so he will at least grant you this small wish. He knew it would make you go over the edge anyway. He started to moan loudly, but not too loud. He told you small praises just to throw you over the edge a little more and before you knew it you came before him. His voice is just so heavenly.

"Hm~? And I thought you were the one supposed to please me" his smirk was wider

You still kept going. Didn't stop a single moment even though you were now the one being overstimulated, But the sight you left before Fyodor was definitely the cherry on top for him. Seeing you become a mess just for him was enough to make him loose control. The way you bounced on him while your body seemed it's about to give up. How you couldn't even form sentences anymore and only moans.

He then came inside you with a loud groan. His cock twitching inside you as it filled you up with his hot cum. You came again with a loud moan. Both of you were out of breath and still feeling just pure euphoria throughout your bodies. You both panted and breath heavily from your climaxes. He smiled slightly when your body laid limp on his chest. He caressed and kissed your head as you tried to calm down from your high. He was really desperate to come inside you once again, but not before making you into a mess.

💙ATSUSHI💙

You were bouncing on Atsushi's cock. He's been cumming so many times inside of you, but his body seems to still not have enough of you. He was a whimpering mess. Atsushi's hands were gripping on ur hips so tightly that it'll for sure be leaving marks. He's been telling you sweet nothing's, which only made you feel electricity throughout your body. Even during this lustful and sinful act you two were doing, His words were nothing but pure and beautiful. He always had a way with words that would touch your soul.

"Mmph~! Y-your so ah! Beautif-ful aggh~! You make me f-feel so g-good~!" He moans while caressing your cheek. His eyes were full of awe

"Atsushi~ mmn~ your literally breath taking agh~! I've never felt this good~" you whimpered

His cock twitches everytime you give him praise. He loves to know that he's satisfying you in any way, especially when your being intimate. "F-Fuck~ I love y-you s-so much- AH~!" He whimpers as he rests his forehead against yours.

"I-love you too~ your literally Mph!~ perfect" you clench his hair gently.

The way you clenched his hair and say something like that, he couldn't handle it. He throws his head all the way back as he arches his back. Your becoming too much for him and he couldn't hold back anymore.

he gasps slightly "I-im g-gonna MMN! i-im gonna cum! P-please don't s-stop nngh! y-you feel so fucking good ah ah~ c-cumming.. cumming!"

He thrusts up into you, making sure his cum is shot deep inside of you. He moans so loud that you had to kiss his lips to muffle out his moan. You still feel him pumping his cum deep inside you, almost like he's never gonna stop. You give him a kiss on the cheek after he calms down from his high. His eyes looking like he's seeing heaven as he panted heavily.

"You've been such a good boy for me" you smile softly

He looked at you with those same soft eyes "and your such a beautiful woman, y/n"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

Your tongue wrapped around Chuuya's dick was enough to make him moan so much. Even after cumming many times, your mouth never left his pretty cock. You loved the way his body twitched aggressively when he came inside you as he moans, it was so addictive. The feeling was mutual for him too. The feeling of your mouth sucking him off was definitely addicting for him and he could never get tired of the pleasurable sensation your tongue brought to him.

"F-fucking hell doll~ ah~! You can't get enough of me or what? MMN!~ not like I'm complaining " he groans with a slight smirk as he looks down at you.

You never left his cock out of your mouth even if he was taking to you. Your mind was just focused on making him feel good. He loved seeing how desperate you were for his cum.

"S-shit! Nnngh~! Feels so f-fucking good! Please don't stop~" he moaned

You went at a faster pace and made sure his tip was reaching the back of your throat, even if you were gagging, you were just desperate to make him cum again. He put his hand behind your head to make your movement faster. The action made you gag more but you honestly didn't mind, It only made you more wet.He arched his back and tilted his head back

he groaned "AH~ F-FUCK~! y-yes, doll~ gonna cum~ g-gonna cum so good down your pretty little throat~ MMN~!"

A few more thrusts and he whimpered loudly when he came deep down your throat. You felt his legs tremble and stomach twitching. His eyes shut tight with clenched teeth. You took every drop of his cum as he filled your throat with it. It was honestly so stimulating. Before you could do anything, he caressed your cheek as he panted

"I want to see....you swallow, doll...if that's not too much to ask"

You blushed as you looked at him with enticing eyes. His cock still inside your mouth. You swallowed his cum in one gulp. He smirked slightly before pulling his cock out of your mouth. You coughed a bit, but he then kissed your forehead lovingly "damn your good, dollface" He says that you can't get enough of him but he also can't get enough of you.

💛SIGMA💛

You were jumping on Sigma's cock quickly. His cock was covered by his previous orgasms and your cunt was filled. His cum made you able to jump faster of his dick and more pleasurable for him. Even though he was out of breath and looked pathetic, he looked so elegant and precious. He truly was a gorgeous man, even if he came from unnatural origins, his body sure acted like a real man. His grip on your hips were tight as he whimpered and moaned loudly from overstimulation.

He shut his eyes tight "Mmn~! Too- ah~! Much, y/n~!" He whimpered

You kissed his cheek and smirked "mmmn~ Your cock is throbbing aggressively. It's feel so good~ you want to cum more, don't you?"

He twitched from the praise "Ngh~! There's no more~ ah~!" His grip became tighter

You cupped his cheek to make him look at you in the eyes "That's ridiculous, love~ mmn~ let me prove it you" you smiled

Your pace became more rough and fast. His head fell back with his mouth agape from moaning loudly. His dick only getting bigger the more he rubbed against your tight walls. His cock pulsating even more as he felt another orgasm coming

"AH~! S-Shit~! Ngh~! too good! I'm gonna~!" He whimpered before shooting his load inside you once again, filling you up as if he's trying to impregnate you. He moaned loudly from his climax

He breathed heavily as he tried to calm down from his high. You kissed his lips before looking into his eyes "You look pretty when you cum, Sigma. It's addicting~"

His eyes were soft and gentle as he still pants "I'm glad the feeling is mutual"

You smirk as you lean into his ear "no matter how many times you cum, your body still wants more~" you said as you touched his already hard cock.

he whimpered and shivered the second he felt your hand on his sensitive dick. You smirked wider before saying "maybe one more round will do"

❤️TECCHOU❤️

The man is the strongest hunting dog. The man has a LOT of stamina. It would a lot to get him overstimulated and tired, but you've managed to do so. You just feel too good and he was getting overwhelmed by the pleasure.You lost count after a couple of rounds, but you've been jumping on his cock for a long time. His eyes were closed while his body was trembling a little. His face was overwhelmed by the pleasure, but even though he was in ecstacy, he would not make a loud sound. His hands were gripping tightly onto your hips

"How are you feeling, love?" You caress his cheek gently

He gulped and leaned into your touch "You feel like..heaven, dear" he catched his breath mid sentence.

You jumped a little rougher which made him clench his teeth and arch his back slightly. His eyes open slightly and he stared at where you two were connected. You clenched his hair gently, making him gasp softly

"Come one ah~ let me hear your voice~" you pleaded softly

He looked down for a second. He seemed embarrassed to let you hear his moans and whimpers, but if that's what you want from him then he will deliver it just for you, but he still needed more encouragement. He was still clenching his teeth as he blushed slightly.

You caressed his muscles gently "Please~? Your moans turn me on~" you whispered in his ear

He trembled more when you caressed his muscles. He laid his head back and let out a deep long moan. Hearing his moan turned you on and encouraged you to jump faster. You were both moaning slightly loud and twitching from the pleasure.

"I- oh God~ ngh~! D-dont stop~" Tecchou moaned with his cheeks sightly blushed

Hearing his words made you jump at a desperate and quick pace. He arched his back while moaning. His mind was blank. He only thought of the pleasure and you. He was unconsciously thrusting upwards. He couldn't handle it anymore.

His dug his nails into your hips "Ngh~! I can't anymore i- "

He quickly pulled himself out of you and then groaned loud while he shot his load on your stomach and chest. You came after him with a loud moan from the beautiful moans and sight he presented you with. He was out of breath and sweating

You giggle softly and kiss his cheek while you were out of breath "You did well, love"

You saw a small smile on his lips as he panted "so did you"

Please check out my Wattpad book! Wattpad deleted my book for breaking their policies so I have to start off from scratch. I'd appreciate it greatly if you check it out ❤️🙏. My Wattpad account is @Coolyiooo

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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago

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hiii! can i request for fyodor, dazai, and ranpo hcs about "the romantic things they would do to win your heart" ty!

“I WANT YOUR LOVE”

— how dazai, fyodor and chuuya try to win your heart

a/n: i went through the five stages of grief writing this UHOFHO also sorry I didn't include ranpo; I hope you like it nonetheless <3 up next is husband!sukuna

OSAMU DAZAI:

so, I wouldn’t say extravagant BUT I would say that it is pretty loud

like gives you a huge bouquet in front of literally everyone kind of loud

also literally shouts your name whenever he sees you, “AHH BELLADONNA, MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N HOW GORGEOUS YOU LOOK TODAY!”

the way he brightens up in your presence is also so obvious like eugh take your lovesick self away bro

he also has a special sixth sense that tells him that you’re close by

when he does get to you, he literally showers you with affection

also, you know when he ditches meetings? he would literally attend them just to be with you, if you’re there that is

same case is when he is running away from kunikida, my man chooses to live his last moments gazing at your beauty and then happily suffer kunikida’s wrath

exhibit a:

“atsushi, have you seen dazai?” kunikida asked as he and atsushi patrolled the streets.

atsushi shook his head, but quickly went to get you, who was busy finishing the taiyaki you got as a treat for yourself after a day of hard work.

however, looks like this travail won’t end so you look up at both of them and tilt your head lightly, “do you guys need something?”

atsushi doesn’t answer, but instead inhales deeply and screams, “DAZAI-SAN, Y/N IS HERE!” which you could bet that the entirety of the city heard.

it’s quiet for a while, but then you hear the sound of rapid steps and panting. the moment you look back, you’re tackled by the bandaged man who merely chirps a happy ‘belladonna!’ as the both of you land on the ground.

“here he is, kunikida-san,” atsushi says with a smile and kunikida nods thoughtfully then proceeds to scribble something in his notebook.

you do hear, amidst getting yourself squashed in a hug by dazai, kunikida mumbling something along the lines of “scream ‘y/n is here’ so dazai can appear”.

he literally doesn’t try to hide it, but that’s like in the very beginning of him falling for you

when he realizes that ‘crap it's serious’ and that he really did fall for someone

I feel like his way of trying to win your heart will change to be much more intimate and quieter

like he is still loud and chaotic on daily basis, of course

but you will find yourself sharing a lot of quiet moments where you just bask in each other’s presence

he gets protective as well, but like people can tell he IS being protective, but YOU can’t

not because you’re dumb, oblivious or anything, it’s just that dazai doesn’t want to make you feel like your relationship changed and low-key doesn’t want to make it awkward

a protective that makes you go ‘what’s wrong with dazai’ and makes the other person go ‘I need to run’

I also see him still getting you bouquets, but they will be accompanied with small notes

they could be like the following:

“you are so beautiful that I swoon for you.”

“I hope your day was as lovely as you are.”

“how can someone be this effortlessly gorgeous?”

of course, they still include comical ones

“I accidentally knocked the tomato soup on kunikida’s pants yesterday, and his face was as red as said soup from anger. you could say that ‘the time of the month’ was a bit harsh on him ;)”

I also feel like he will try to initiate conversations a lot more (idk how because like y’all already talked A LOT)

It’s just that he becomes curious about what you think of everything and purely wants to know more about you, your views in life and whatnot

you could be talking about the silliest things and he would still be so interested and fully indulge you

I see him also sharing with you places with beautiful scenery that he often goes to; it’s just so intimate and he WANTS to make you know that you’re special

he jokes and still flirts loudly, but there are quiet moments because he wants you to understand that you having a hold on his heart is no joke

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

hm, it’s been a while since I wrote for him

so remember how I said dazai is kind of subtle in showing his genuine interest?

well, with fyodor you can’t even tell whether he changed or not

it’s just a normal everyday fyodor

BUT there some stuff he does extra

he gets protective, but just a little

so before, he used to glare at anyone who gets near you to hurt you which makes them quickly stop in their tracks, now he just instantly grabs their hand and threatens to kill them

another thing I see him doing is like taking you to places that he finds amusement in or like enjoys lol

that’s to show you off or show you a part of him in a more obvious way

he wants to show you his interests and see if they appeal to you as well or not

if they don’t then fak you, I mean then it’s fine cause variety is key

“fyodor.”

“yes?”

“couldn’t we go to a more entertaining place?” you inquire as you sip your drink and stare at the man who got you here in the first place.

fyodor smirks lightly, “whatever do you mean? this is highly entertaining.”

“1 year olds eating chess pieces is not my kind of entertainment, but okay.”

literally does stuff like this for giggles and his actual entertainment

loves messing with you but like lowkey

I also see him starting to compliment you more, like just smol compliments and sometimes you even have to read between the lines to get it

but sometimes he doesn’t even try to hide it

like nikolai could be doing god knows what, but just know it’s chaotic and sigma is trying to stop him but it just results in more chaos

and fyodor would just sigh and say something along the lines of “truly, an intelligence similar to y/n’s must be hard to achieve especially for you two.”

nikolai just laughs a laugh that screams bro stfu

sigma is just offend cause like why insult me while flirting with y/n?? tf did I do???

I also think that he will be more recognizing or acknowledging of your talents?

like with fyodor, I think the biggest sign of him liking you is accepting you as an equal and not treating you as a pawn or someone less than him

exhibit a:

“fyodor, shouldn’t this arrangement be discussed without someone like her present?” the man sneers as he looks you up and down, “she doesn’t seem trustworthy nor intelligent enough to keep up with our conversations.”

you hold back from responding and merely look at fyodor, who looks at the man in silence. he clears his throat lightly after he sips some tea and speaks up, “my apologies, but if anyone lacks in intelligence then it’s certainly you.”

both your eyes and the man’s widen at fyodor’s reply; the man is angered and he stands up abruptly, “how dare you say that?! It is more than obvious that I possess more intelligence than your subordinate here!”

fyodor raises an eyebrow in inquiry, “who said that she is my subordinate?”

the man is confused, and so are you, but fyodor pays no mind as he continues, “about the trust part, the only reason you’re going to do your end of the deal is because of the information I hold against you,” a smirk takes its place on fyodor’s lips, “meanwhile, her, I can give her a knife and she wouldn’t stab me, even in a million years.”

lmao if that ain’t down bad and blindly in love then idk

also, as we all must’ve guessed: he is pretty classic in terms of ‘flirting’ with you

but I do see him gifting you a rose of some sort and saying a smartass line like “even with its thorns, the rose is considered a sign of love and romance; is that to imply the hardships that come with loving someone?—“

boy shut yo ass and give me the damn flower

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

chuuya is someone really honest so I think he will be really obvious and clear about wanting to win your heart

albeit a bit on the tsundere side sometimes but oh well

it’s still a lot more open that the others I have mentioned and feels very genuine

I also believe that he would want you to know that he likes you

plus I don’t think he can hide it well anyway

so he gets teased by everyone along with yourself

“ooo, who caught the heart of our badass mafia executive?”

and he would just grumble, “wow, i wonder who.”

of course, it’s a given that he would buy you souvenirs and gifts cause HEYYYY YOU DESERVE THE BEST

exhibit a:

“y/n, I need to give you something!”

you perk up at the voice and smile at chuuya, “yeah?”

he looks you in the eye for a moment before grumbling, face a soft hue of pink, and getting out the gift he got and placing it on your desk.

“aww, chuuya, you shouldn’t have!”

he crosses his arms and looks to the side, cheeks burning slightly, “yeah yeah, but I wanted to get you something.”

the smile never leaves your face and instead gets bigger as you see what’s inside. the thing about chuuya’s gifts is that they are always thoughtful.

“do you…like it?” you hear him mumble softly and just to hug him tightly.

“thank you so much! it’s amazing! I really love it!”

he stumbles over his words before yelling, obviously flustered, “t-that’s good! but you don’t have to hug me!”

“you don’t want me to?” you ask, slightly sad and chuuya wants to kick himself for making you like that.

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT EITHER!”

lmao, I love the guy

when you guys do get into a relationship, he is a lot less shy and open for affection but we are still not there yet hehe

something to add is that he also loves taking you anywhere you like

like either drive you there with his very cool motorcycle or you guys hanging out at some place

and like the places are…very extravagant to say the least

“so what do you think of the place?”

“chuuya, the walls are painted gold.”

“and?”

“chuuya, the fountain is dripping gold.”

“you don’t deserve anything less.”

Idk about you guys but I also think chuuya is a huge tease when he wants just not as horribly or as big as dazai

like just light teasing in general but it’s still so flustering; they’re things like:

“did the doll forget her keys again?”

“poor baby, want me to kiss it for you?” (but a lot less derogatory than when he said it to dazai 🤡; he really does want to kiss the pain away for you <33)

chuuya is rather protective by default so I feel like that won’t change, maybe amplified? but you can’t tell the difference because chuuya was always willing to beat some ass anyway

I see him being pretty attentive to your needs as well

like he has a bottle of water for you ready and maybe some food along with any personal essentials. he is a little grumpy when giving it to you, but it’s just to mask how nervous he is because of your smile

another thing, i think he does is write you letters

and they most of the time have poems? since you had told him about how he somehow (he did take offense to the word) has a good way with words

he also loves getting praised by you so it’s worth it even if it makes him a bit shy

now to end this on a cute note, the beginning phase of his confession included one of his poems accompanied with a rose

and its last lines were:

“once I believed love poems were foolish yet now I do nothing but dream about love”

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