#fyodor move out of the way. it's my turn.

[strayingsocks]

what a silly, crazy little guy! what a silly fella!! what a comedic lad!!!!

sillay ref :3

[mossy-rot]

dazai really is just everyone's ex isn't he

[osamucide]

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

[osachiyo]

✦ BAD TIMING? ✦

⟣ ──┈ · · · + including : dazai, chuuya, fukuzawa, fyodor x fem!reader

⟣ ──┈ · · · + c/w : nsfw content (mdni), teasing, petnames, degradation, rough sex, prone bone, cowgirl, mating press, nipple play, cursing, cockwarming, mentions of nikolai + non consensual vouyer in fyodor's & more

⟣ ──┈ · · · + a/n : i wrote this with my pussy.

synopsis. . . you're getting your guts rearranged when− 'riiing!' the annoying sound of his phone ringing caught you both off guard, snapping you out of your dazed state as you both paused your nightly rendezvous. what's even more surprising to you is when he reaches over to grab the tiny device, answering the call− ugh, seriously?

.001 — Dazai

You whined at feeling Dazai's hips slow down, now completely flush against your ass, as he picks up the phone. "What could kunikida-kun possibly need from me, at this hour?" He muttered to himself, voice breathy and warm against the shell of your ear. Fuck, it was kunikida?

"Hello~ ku-ni-ki-da-kuunnnnn?" Your co-worker said in an annoyingly sing-songy voice, making the man in the other end of the line grumble in frustration. They began talking about some..mission? Anyway, it had been around 20 minutes since they've started talking? You couldn't exactly tell− or cared, honestly. The only thing in your fucked out mind was for dazai to close the damn phone and just fuck you already!

You showed your frustrations by huffing and angrily kicking your legs− turning your head to look back at dazai with a glare. He only smirked in response, shrugging before turning his attention back to the call.

You had no idea that dazai was aching to move right now, the feeling of your warm cunt pulsating around him was almost too much to bear. The way sweat gathered at the dip of your back, the way you arched for him− shit.

It had been a few more moments, you were so close to whine out complaints when dazai's hips started moving again, cock easily brushing against your sweet spot. You could still hear his voice from behind you.. he− he wasn't done with the call?!

You were about to ask him what the hell he was planning now− when long, slim fingers entangled themselves in your already messy hair− shoving your head down against the mattress to shut you up as he kept his pace, voice straining a little while he contuined his "very important" conversation with your other co-worker.

Lewd "pap! pap! pap!" noises of dazai's balls hitting your ass filled the enclosed room as you tried your best not to let any moans slip out− god, if he found out− "oi dazai, what're the weird noises coming from your side?"

Fuck.

"Oh uh− nothing, nothing at all, kunikida-kun," he breathed, free hand now coiling around your waist to rub at your neglected clit− making your back arch even more as you gasped out loudly.

"What the− are you sure? You better not be scheming anything bad right now, idiot."

"Of course not! mmh− so tight−!" he whispered the last bit, large hand now cluntching the flip phone in a vice grip as he watched his cock disappear inside of your slick folds− a creamy ring forming around the base of his cock.

"Huh? what's so tight? Dazai−"

That was the last thing you heard from kunikida before dazai's poor phone was thrown somewhere on the bed, the hand coiled in your hair now dragging you up− arching your back even more for him as he muttered soft curses into your ear.

You let out a pained mewl at your hair being pulled, desperate hands scrambling to claw and tug at the sheets as your back was flush against dazai's chest. "Ah− shiit−!" your eyes rolled back as the thumb circling your tiny clit sped up, the bed creaking loudly with each thrust of dazai's narrow hips against your ass.

"Yeah? you gonna cum, 'donna?" Dazai mocked, breath hot against your neck as he moaned lewdly at the way your pussy gushed around him− spraying the sheets with clear fluid. Dazai only groaned in response, "oh shit, fuuuck!− g'nna cum inside you, yeah? y' wan' that?" He slurred, you didn't get to answer before blunt nails meanly dug into your hips as he stilled− balls tightening as spurts of white filled your cunt before he fell on top of you.

You two laid there for a few moments, his cock slowly softening inside you− chest heaving as he finally got off, hissing from the loss of warmth. Dazai pressed a gentle kiss on your temple before walking off, most likely to grab a wet rag to clean you up. You got up with a sigh, running a hand through your messy hair when your eyes land on dazai's phone− it wasn't too far away from you.

You crawled closer to it, taking it in your hands when it lit up− "call ended now."

.002 — Chuuya

You were happily bouncing on your boyfriend's dick when the annoying ringtone of his phone went off. He sighed, lifting his head from the sofa as he reached over to grab the device, brows furrowing at the contact name.

You were sitting idly on his lap now, still impaled on his cock. "Who is it?" You panted, out of breath as you tried not to clench around the ginger's fat dick.

"It's.. boss. be quiet f'me, okay doll?" His voice was soft, but you know he meant it as a command.

You nodded innocently, urging him to answer the phone call. and he did, the way he immediately put on a professional voice sort of baffled you but hey, he was a mafia executive.

But the moment he put the phone next to his ear, you clenched around him tight— making him almost double over with a gasp as he gripped your hip for stability.

"Argh!— I mean- y-yes, boss!" He stuttered, face flushing as he grit his teeth, glaring at you as his fingertips dug into your plush hip, veins appearing at his temple as he mouthed to you to "behave."

Like hell you'd listen and torture yourself by cockwarming him. You only grinned mischievously before lifting your hips up and slamming down on his cock, his eyes shutting tightly as he tried his best not to moan out— he couldn't. Especially not with Mori on the line.

You kept pleasuring yourself on his cock without a care, even going as far as putting a show for him— your hands reaching to play with your tits as you softly moaned out his name, reaching to grab his hand but he only smacked it away, cock dripping with need as he tried his best to keep things professional.

"Chuuya-kun, everything alright on your side? I keep hearing these..noises."

The man in question knew he was fucked— he knew Mori already figured everything out, "uh— y-yeah, boss. I'm fine— fuck—!" Panting out the last part, Chuuya gripped his phone so tight that you worried it would shatter.

"Uh-huh.. Anyway, you had better call me back once you're finished with your.... current predicament. Have fun."

And with that, the Port Mafia boss ended the call, making Chuuya groan in annoyance before chucking the small device somewhere— "what the hell was that?" He growled, hand coming up to wrap around your throat as he forced you to stop your movements, cock nestled deep inside of you once again as your hips stilled. You whined from the loss of friction, the sound only making your lover's right eye twitch in annoyance— "such a poor, needy slut, ain't ya?" He held you down firmly before thrusting up, fat cock nudging against your sweet spot as you threw your head back.

"Ooh, f-fuck— my slutty fuckin' girl can't even stand a few minutes without cock, huh?" He stuttered, other hand reaching up to land a gentle but firm slap on your face. It didn't sting much, but was enough to move your head to the other side. You only whimpered in response, clenching around him even more as his thrusts sped up— growls and groans of pleasure escaping his own lips as he suddenly parted your lips with his thumb before shoving two gloved fingers down your throat— your eyes stinging with tears as the digits hit the back of your throat, tits bouncing up and down as he practically manhandled you like a ragdoll— settling you on your hands and knees without even pulling out fully.

"Argh- fuck—!" He moaned, burying his face into the dip of your shoulder, landing soft kisses on the smooth skin. "Ch-chuuya— s'good, feels s'good—" you slurred, eyes rolling back as one hand found your breasts— the soft flesh jiggling with each brutal thrust of his hips as he basically slapped them around, harshly pinching your nipple as his other hand found your clit— rubbing quick and fast circles on the delicate bud— making you clamp around his cock once more before gushing all over his cock and the expensive leather couch. Your juices ran down his balls to his thighs— the force of your orgasm making you limp against him. You'd probably fall face first onto the couch if not for Chuuya's vice grip on you. Whimpers and borderline pornographic moans left his swollen lips— before biting down hard on your shoulder, spurts of cum flooding your insides as you laid flaccid in his hold— a drooling, shivering mess.

Chuuya fell on top of you, the both of you laying in each other's warmth when—

"Riiiing!"

.003 — Fukuzawa

A pout graced your pretty lips when your husband reached for his phone— picking the tiny device up as he drew soothing circles on your hip, motioning for you to be quiet.

You tried your best to be quiet as he took the phone call, you really did! But the way his cock was nestled so deep inside you and the way you could practically feel him throb inside of your gooey walls— you really didn't wanna bother him or interrupt his phone call but... you couldn't help but whine softly, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, clenching down on the older man's impossibly hard cock. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when his eyes finally focused on you, underneath him— little pants and huffs of his name rolling off your tongue as you played with yourself. Your other hand was playing with your nipples, softly tugging on them as you bit your bottom lip— which was already swollen. Your eyes were glossed over, hips dying to move on their own.

His jaw was clenched— free hand coming down to lift your legs and put them on his shoulder before he started thrusting inside of you with more vigour than before. It was like he was in a trance— the way your pussy fluttered around his pulsating cock, and the way his tip kissed your cervix with each thrust had you both panting. Your head spun with pleasure as he reaches down to press at your tummy— feeling his bulge. Fuck, he was huge.

The phonecall still went on, of course— but you know all Fukuzawa could think about was you, and the way your pretty cunt swallowed his cock. The noises leaving his mouth told you exactly what you needed to know— the slight stutter in his voice, usually gentle tone now gruff and slightly higher in pitch as he tried his best not to blow his load right then and there.

Not like you were any better either— hair disheveled, sweat dripping off your body as tears stinged at your eyes from the sheer size of this man— it didn't take long for you to cream and gush all over his cock— some of it even spraying on his abdomen. He saw the way your glossy eyes rolled back, your jaw slacked open as your high hit you like a truck.

To hell with the phonecall — he thought.

He cut off whoever was on the other line with a quick but curt, "I'm a little busy— I'll call you later", not even letting the other person respond before ending the call and placing the phone away— all his attention back was on you.

"Putting on a show f'me, sweet girl?" He grunted, dragging his hips back before slamming them against yours— "mmh! K-Knew it'd work— fuck!" You moaned, now feeling both of his hands pushing your legs back, knees almost touching your ears as he forced you into a mean mating press. You felt your high coming closer again— balls slapping against your ass, cock bullying that spongey spot inside of your gummy walls as he groaned sweet nothings into your neck— gruff voice drowned out by his own growls.

You could only babble nonsense and his name as you came hard for the second time that night— pussy clenching around his length and he could feel something snap inside of him— hips speeding up to an inhuman pace, losing their rhythm as he bottomed out fully. Balls pressed against your ass while he spurted out so much cum— some of it ran down your ass and on to the sheets as he slowly got up, pulling out of your cunt with a hiss and watching his cum gushing out of your cunt in spurts.

.004 — Fyodor

You were finally bouncing on Fyodor's cock after hours of teasing and cockwarming— your hips and thighs burned but it didn't matter to you at the moment, because you can finally reach that release that Fyodor has been dangling in front of you— or at least you thought.

Your heart dropped to your stomach once the ringing of his phone echoed through the room— an annoyed sigh leaving Fyodor's lips as he gently slapped your thigh, a silent order for you to stop and stay still.

"A noise and you're getting punished," Fyodor's voice was smooth, but the threat made you gulp, "o-okay," you nodded, accidentally clenching down on him from nervousness and he hissed— blunt fingernails digging into your soft hips. He let out a shaky breath before picking up the phone, it was sort of unsettling how his voice switched from breathy to normal in a second.

You didn't know the phonecall would last so damn long.

It had been almost 30 whole minutes since he had picked up the goddamned phone— and this was pure torture to you. The occasional twitch of his cock inside you made your head spin, oh and the way he'd glare at you when you clenched down particularly hard— it did nothing else but make you even wetter. He, on the otherhand, was completely fine— not a hair out of place as he spoke so casually about.. something. The only time he'd react is when your pussy contracted around him— which would only get a hiss, or hitched breath from the man. It pissed you off.

It was too much for you— your juices running down his cock and onto the leather chair, god - you were leaking so much.

Fortunately for you, he was done with the call soon enough— quickly placing the phone on the desk before whispering into your shoulder as he placed gentle kisses on your skin, "go ahead, myshka - move." His voice was soft, as if he was proud of you for obeying his order and being a good girl— fingers that were previously digging into your flesh now reached between your bodies to rub and flick at your clit, while you happily bounced on his dick. He may have been quiet as a mouse during the phonecall— but he couldn't help but let out soft grunts and pants as you expertly milked his cock, dry lips even letting out one or two whines as you kissed his neck, down to his collarbones— pale skin now adorning a heavy flush as your thighs smacked against his own.

Lewd squelches and noises of skin smacking against skin filled the dark room of his office— Fyodor's jaw clenching as he feels your walls - so soft and warm, squeezing his cock as if you were trying to milk him. He was going to cum soon— but he couldn't possibly finish before his darling, could he? Lithe and slim fingers sped up their movements on your clit as he bit on your shoulder— free hand pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples as you gasped, your own pace turning sloppy and uncoordinated as you clenched your eyes shut— cumming all over his cock as he held your hips down firmly, shooting ribbons of white inside of your walls, some of it dribbling down his balls to the leather of his seat.

You both were left panting, shivering as Fyodor drew random shapes into your shoulder— trying to come down from his own high. He pulled you closer after you both calmed down, your head resting on his chest as he placed soft kisses on the crown of your head, whispering how good you've been for him.

If only you knew the man also coming down from his high on the other end of the video call— white hair disheveled as he came all over his screen.

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

note. ik i said i'd add jouno but I lost motivation for this thing :( jouno will be added to another work, so sorry jouno lovers </3

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch @chuuya-brainrot

[thewickedjazzy]

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

♡stalker! fyodor d. x afab! reader.

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

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

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

[SEE: Kink Coin & Winners Scoreboard]

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

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

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

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

but deep down, you know better.

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

but after midnight, everything changes.

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

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

your phone buzzes again.

unknown: “look behind you.”

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

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

there's nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

how do they know?

another message:

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

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

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

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

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

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

what the hell is going on?

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

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

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

“did you miss me, myskha?”

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

it’s fyodor dostoevsky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you're shaking my dear are you okay"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[moomuzan]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Add Up My Love

or ( hyper- ) specific romance imagines with dazai, chuuya, ranpo, akutagawa, fyodor

You had never seen Dazai so quiet. The late evening light painted the room in shades of amber, casting a golden halo around him as he sat at his desk, pen gliding smoothly over paper. His expression was unguarded, almost vulnerable, lips moving faintly as though he were whispering the words he was writing to the empty air. There was a stillness to him, an absence of his usual dramatics, that made you pause in the doorway, hesitant to disturb the rare peace. But curiosity, that insistent pull, eventually dragged you closer. “Dazai?” you called softly.

His hand stilled mid-word, shoulders stiffening as if caught in a secret. Slowly, he turned to face you, his usual grin making an appearance, but it lacked its usual spark. “Ah, bella,” he drawled lightly, “what impeccable timing. Caught me in the middle of my dull, bureaucratic duties.” But your eyes had already fallen to the letter on the desk, its ink still glistening, the words “To my dearest, whenever you find this,” staring back at you. As your chest tightened, and realization dawned, you reached for the paper. Surprisingly, he didn’t stop you, only sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Just leaving something behind,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For you. In case there’s ever a day I can’t say these things myself.”

dt siyun xo

Chuuya’s boots echoed through the hallway as he entered your apartment, his gaze immediately snapping to you, barely standing on your own. As you swayed slightly, the wine still clouding your mind, his expression darkened. “You’re a mess,” he grumbled, his voice sharp but laced with something that wasn’t quite anger. Without waiting for you to respond, he was already at your side, his hand steadying your waist with surprising firmness, his other arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the bathroom. “C’mon, you’re not going to bed like this.”

You mumbled something incoherent, but he paid it no mind, already pulling a chair out in front of the mirror and gently sitting you down. His movements were surprisingly tender as he grabbed the makeup remover. There was no hurry in his hands as he carefully pressed the cotton pad to your skin, wiping away the smeared mascara with an attention to detail that caught you off guard. His eyes, though gruff, softened as they traced your face, erasing the evidence of your night out. “Can’t believe you let yourself get this bad,” he murmured, though there was no real bite behind the words. When Chuuya moved to your hair, his fingers slid through your tangles, gentle but insistent, working through each knot with a patience that felt almost reverent. “Don’t move.” With a touch softer than you had ever expected from him, he brushed your hair with careful strokes. “I’m staying with you until you have sobered up.”

Akutagawa lingered at the edge of the room, watching you with a quiet intensity. The dim glow of the streetlights outside bathed your form in a soft halo, your chest rising and falling in a gentle, almost hypnotic rhythm. Replaced by an unfamiliar stillness as he observed the delicate vulnerability you wore in your sleep, the cold edges of his usual demeanor melted away. Every line of tension in his body seemed to ease, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world felt distant. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, softened as they traced the curve of your face, the way your hair fell carelessly around you. He found himself held captive by the simplicity of the moment, as if your presence alone grounded him.

You shifted in your sleep, muttering something barely audible, and Akutagawa froze. The sound of your voice, though muffled by sleep, stirred something deep inside him—a pull he couldn’t resist. His heart thudded a little louder, and before he could stop himself, a quiet, gruff sound slipped from his lips. “Tch, idiot,” he murmured, his tone betraying an uncharacteristic tenderness. He quickly turned away, a faint flush rising to his cheeks, his pulse quickening in a way that both startled and unsettled him. Gripping the doorframe to steady himself, as if the weight of this strange emotion might overwhelm him, he retreated into the shadows while his mind raced with feelings tangled into something more profound than he’d ever expected.

Dim lights of the room flickered as soft piano notes drifted through the air, barely audible, as if the music itself were hesitant to interrupt the silence between you. Fyodor stood before you, his presence commanding, even in the stillness. His hands hovered near your waist, their tension palpable, a silent request for you to take control. There was no impatience in his gaze, only a quiet insistence, a rare vulnerability from the man who always held everything so tightly. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into yours, waiting—no words, just a soft, unspoken command that he would follow you, if only you dared. A test? Yeah, definitely.

As you took the first step, his hand settled against your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your clothes with surprising tenderness. The faintest tremor of control still lingered in his touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you lead with quiet confidence, as if testing the limits of his restraint. The stillness between your movements was thrilling, charged with an electricity neither of you dared to acknowledge. Steady yet barely noticeable, his breath became the only sound that mattered to you as you swayed together, the dance becoming something far more intimate, a shared language only the two of you understood. Although the tension in his body was almost imperceptible,you felt it—his willingness to surrender, if only for this moment.

The quiet morning wrapping you in a serene haze, you woke up slowly, but it was the weight of Ranpo’s arm around you that pulled you fully from sleep. Though, the moment he felt your gentle movements under his touch, he instinctively drew you closer, his form curling tighter against yours as though the intimacy was a need he couldn’t deny. Completely unaware of how tightly he was holding you, his lips buried in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady. He was deep in sleep, yet his grip continued to tighten, as though afraid of losing the radiating warmth of your presence. His legs were tangled with yours, and his hand rested possessively but gently on your waist, each little movement of his body a subconscious plea to stay as close as possible.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he clung to you, his face peaceful and unaware of the vulnerability he was showing. It was a side of him you rarely saw—the brilliant, always composed detective reduced to nothing more than a boy seeking comfort in the quiet security of your arms. Even if he didn’t realize it, his soft sighs and the faint tugging at your shirt as he shifted closer made your heart swell. Before giving it much thought, you gently brushed his hair back, savoring the stillness, content to let him rest. For now, you simply stayed still, lost in the intimacy of that moment—where Ranpo, so often the one with all the answers, was nothing more than a quietly clinging soul seeking warmth.

dt dorothea

a/n: oh alright, need me a chuuya to brush my hair. can yall see the vision? it’s a physical need atp.

xoxo

[riiwrites]

“dancing in the dark.”

summary : when the BSD men catch you dancing.

includes : chuuya, dazai, fyodor

request : “i was thinking what fyodor, dazai and chuuya would react if their s/o is actually a dancer and keeps it a secret from them!” - 💙

a/n: thank you so much for the request, angel!! i really tried to fit the description as you requested in your og ask, i hope it’s fit to your standards :) also tysm to my lovely poe for being my russian translator for the nicknames that fyodor uses in this fic! show him some love, they’re so so great <3 @cherrymoka222

masterlist | main page | daily click

CHUUYA

• Chuuya truly thought he knew everything about you. From your likes to dislikes, your personality traits and little silly habits. He thought he had you figured out.

• That was until, he caught you in the garden.

• Moving elegantly but so swiftly, he was in awe.

• He didn’t dare to disturb you, thinking this moment was just so perfect to ruin.

• And he thought, if you were to hide such a thing from him, how would you react if he knew? So he never confronts you about it.

• That is until, he has a better idea.

“Right, baby..I’m gonna head to bed.” Chuuya announced with a yawn, making you turn your head as you nod softly, smiling at him.

“Kay.”

He begins to walk out the room, as soon as he reaches the doorway however, he takes one last little glance at you and smiles to himself before heading off.

An hour or so later, the normal time you would often “head to bed” came around but in reality, you’re heading to your escape in the garden.

As you head towards the back door, you couldn’t help but have a sneaky feeling that something was different about tonight.

Oh how you were so right.

There stood Chuuya, still in his normal work attire with a big smirk on his face as he watched your little suspicious look turn into one of shock.

“Hey.” He says.

“..Hey..” You repeat, slowly making your way towards him. As you did, you noticed the scenery around you.

The bushes surrounding and sculpting the area were lit beautifully with fairy-lights scattered across them left to right, with a little boombox sat on a nearby table with slow jazz playing softly in the background.

“..So you know..?” You ask.

“Oh I know.” He instantly says, letting out a chuckle as he saw your flushed face out of embarrassment.

“Come now, doll..why the face? You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” He says softly, walking towards you and creating the distance between you both smaller and smaller with each passing second. “I think it’s beautiful.” He whispers as he reaches out to touch you, lifting your chin up with his gloved fingers.

You shyly locate your eyes to find his, a little hesitance in your voice as you whispered “Really?”

He nodded, his smirk now changing to a soft and comforting smile as he whispers back. “Really.” The tone in his voice sounding so sincere and full of genuine honesty made you feel giddy.

He leans in and kisses your lips ever so gently, before pulling away after a few seconds to hold out his hand towards you.

“Can I?” He asks.

You smile, nodding as you put your hand in his, and he slowly walks backwards and guides you throughout the garden, spinning you around and dancing with you in the dark as if time was nonexistent.

DAZAI

• This smug bastard already has a pretty fine idea about your talent.

• He’s already onto your every move.

• Why? Because he sees the way your eyes light up once anything dance related shows up on the screen and you look so engrossed with it.

• He thinks it’s adorable, really. He’s always known you’ve had a liking for dance.

• But, catching you whilst you’re actually dancing just like the stars on TV? Moving so graciously with your legs as you slowly make the garden your own.

• He could watch you for hours, and he did.

You walk on water like it’s fragile to touch, the little ripples appearing just below your toes as you tread ever so lightly but dance with such a powerful impact that could make everyone stop and stare.

Well, it made someone specific stop and stare.

“Wow..” You’re instantly snapped out of your thoughts as you fall straight into the water, snapping your head towards the sound of your disturbance. You shoot him a glare.

“Whaaat? Can’t I watch my beautiful bella dance like nobody’s watching?”

“Well someone’s clearly watching.” You scoff as you stand up, your lower half now drenched in water.

“I’ve been watching you for hours, Y’know~” He chimes, smirking as you step out of the water and shake your legs to remove any excess water.

“How did I not notice your eery gaze carving holes into the back of me..?” You whisper to yourself, but Dazai answers your rhetorical question anyway.

“I’ve actually known about your little talent for months now, you just haven’t spotted me. Until today when I was oh so rudely interrupted..” He sighs heavily.

“Okay, one, Joe Goldberg, cool it.” You retort as you walk towards the back door, to which he was standing in front of. “And two, you interrupted me! I would’ve kept dancing if you kept your mouth shut..”

“Oh?~” He says, his smirk only growing wider. “Is that an invitation, dear?”

You couldn’t help your blush as you look up at him, smiling a little as your annoyed facade fades. “..Maybe..”

He smiles, hopping off the steps leading to the back door and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Aren’t you just the sweetest when you’re not mad at me?” He says, then, he flicks your forehead.

“Ow!- dick..” You murmur as Dazai walks past you, giggling to himself as he reaches the bit of the garden to which you were dancing on.

“Well? Show me the VIP experience, bella.”

You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes as you rush to the pool of water as Dazais eyes follow you, waiting patiently for you to begin.

As you begin to dance and return to your concentrated look. Dazai stares with the biggest smile on his face as he watches you take the night away with your actions. God, how lucky was he?

And he could’ve sworn he fell in love with you all over again, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

FYODOR

• Like Dazai, he knows about your liking towards dancing.

• But, he doesn’t know you actually do it, he just thought it was something you enjoyed to watch.

• You tried your hardest to hide it from him, simply because you didn’t want to bother him with your interests whilst he was busy working and didn’t want to be a distraction.

• He suspected something the moment you started acting suspicious around him, you could never hide anything from him.

• He eventually found out about it one day when he was reading and then suddenly heard piano music being played from outside.

• His interest was piqued almost immediately, as he closed his book and slowly made his way throughout the house and out to the garden.

• He had his suspicions, and as he reached the door and opened it quietly, they were confirmed.

• There you were, dancing ever so beautifully and spinning heavenly. Why would you hide this from him?

• He wanted to find out, and he was going to.

Soon, the music came to an end, putting an end to your routine as you descend from your tiptoes and onto the ground flat. There were a few seconds of silence until the area was filled with sounds of slow clapping.

You could’ve swore you heard your heart stop.

“Myshka..why’d you stop?” He says with a little smirk. You turn around slowly as your met with your lovers strong gaze.

“Oh..uhm..because the song..ended..” You stammer, looking down at your feet as you could practically feel your inner self growing smaller and smaller with each moment of silence.

Fyodor walks towards you, hands clasped together. “What a performance, lapachka..You move so elegantly.” He compliments you, to which you blush and move your hands to your face.

“You weren’t supposed to know..” You muffle out, and he can’t help but chuckle at your cute actions. He gently takes your hands and pulls them from your face, giving you the same smile but this time, it looked comforting.

“And why not?” He asks.

“I just..” You pause, becoming careful with your words. “I didn’t want to bother you with it..”

His gaze becomes softer as he appears a bit confused, and also..saddened? It only lasts a second though as his smirk returns and he strokes your cheek.

“You could never bother me, dear..” He whispers as he kisses your lips. You close your eyes and kiss him back, going up on your tiptoes to get a better angle. He pulls away and continues stroking your cheek, before pulling away and walking past you and heading towards the music player himself.

You raise an eyebrow as you turn towards him. “..What are you doing?” You ask skeptically. He switches on a channel of classical music, looking up at you with the same look on his face as he extends a hand out towards you.

“Come.” He says, and you instantly follow.

He takes your hand and you both begin to way to the music, his feet moving just the same as yours as if he was an expert on what he was doing. You were surprised.

“How are you so experienced with this?” You giggle.

“I’ve adapted to the area of dancing in..every lifetime let’s just say..” He replies, spinning you around slowly once before going back to sway with you. You smile, making Fyodor chuckle just a little.

You both danced for most of the night, and being in eachothers arms made Fyodor think he was one of the luckiest men in the world.

Maybe living in this lifetime wasn’t so bad, as long as it meant being with you.

TAGLIST : @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @heartsfourdazai @nomnomventi @silverbladexyz @inojuuy @boarcide @cherrymoka222 @kissesmellow21 @aliyahgracedrawing @chuuyathehatrack2 @boredwithwrath @rainy-dazie @lone-ray @ishqani @fun-cats @wefureko-blog @hoicacti @seikkoh @famousfoxkingdom @morrie-rose @underscoredaniii @monmush @night-dazai @s1eepybunny @minomikn @pinkdaises @lalalanddddddddd @mayaaluvvvv @probablyzombiedinosaurs @rinismahname @starrs20 @just4notherhumanbeing @little-miss-chaoss @drowningfishy @saeandscaralover @minniepresents

✿ riiwrites 2024 ; please refrain from ever plagiarising or reposting any of my works without crediting.

[aureatchi]

⋆ ✦ ˚｡⋆ THIS SUMMER NIGHT WE FIND SCATTERED DREAMS, I ONCE AGAIN RUN IN THE STARLIGHT ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma.

— what it’s like to stargaze with them. (& more)

a/n. sadly, i have yet to see the aurora borealis and in general, seldom get to see the stars. (light pollution my no.1 enemy !!) but a girl can dream :) (& distract herself from the latest bsd chapters..)

info. fem!reader. fluff. soft everyone lol. some of them are nerds & ramble abt stars. :) + a little poetic. mentions of greek mythology. kissing. buildup to actual topic. profanities in chuuya’s & he may or may not use sskk to help. bsd manga/ability spoilers in fyodor’s.

DAZAI : so in this instance, i’d be perseus, and you’d be andromeda. — he listens to everything you have to say.

Your palm in his, the brunette’s pretty fingers wrapped around yours. He softly massaged your hand as you began telling him, your starstruck lover a story under the show of constellations. It had formed into a little routine since the first time you stargazed with him as a date.

“There was this princess,” you started. “Princess Andromeda. She was a very beautiful woma-”

“You’re more beautiful, though,” Dazai interrupted. You didn’t even get in two complete sentences without his commentary. You sat a bit awestruck while he delivered a kiss to your hand.

“Continue, bella,” big brown eyes teased you.

You hastily recovered. “…She was beautiful. And her mother—Queen Cassiopeia—who was very prideful, decided to brag to Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, that she was prettier than his daughters.”

“I mean, that’s understandable. I brag about you all the time! Why shouldn’t the pretty girl be shown off?”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, reminiscing over the times the detective had shown you off. Whenever you decided to visit the Armed Detective Agency’s office with Dazai, Kunikida would never hear the end of it. When you two went out to eat, he would flatter your name away. “This gorgeous girl would like to order…” “May I please get a table for the angelic lady and I?”

He never failed to fluster you.

“Anyway, Poseidon got angry and decided to send a sea monster to destroy their kingdom. The only way the monster could be pacified was if it could devour Andromeda.”

“A damsel in distress,” Dazai nodded and then dramatically pretended like he was the helpless princess on the ocean. He completely pulled over the blanket the two of you were sharing, using it as a cape—“Someone save me! I’m going to be eaten by a sea monster!”

“‘Samu! I’m cold!”

“Ah, sorry. Perhaps you are the princess, and you need saving from this icy night!” He rewrapped the blanket over your shoulder.

“Stop interrupting me; I’m trying to tell you something!” It was nowhere near icy, but your lover proved his dramaticism even further when a tuft of brown hair grazed your shoulder. He had rested his head on you.

“Oka-ay—sorry, continue!”

“Meanwhile, Perseus—I told you last time, the man who killed Medusa—found Andromeda while flying over with his horse, Pegasus. He immediately fell in love with her, so he slayed the sea monster and rescued her from the rock she was chained to.”

“What a hero,” Dazai said. “So they lived happily ever after?”

“Not yet. Perseus asked Andromeda’s father for permission to marry her but discovered she was already set to marry someone else. And the man she was engaged to got angry that Perseus wanted to marry her.”

“Of course,” he sighed, which puzzled you a bit, but you’d return to his comment later. “I’m rooting for Perseus, though.”

“Well, good for you because the two fought, and Perseus won by showing the other guy Medusa’s head.”

Dazai chuckled. “Nice move! He turned his enemy into his trophy. Imagine if we did that to all our enemies!”

“I think then we’d have a whole army of statues,” you laughed. “But now, he and Andromeda married, and they were able to live happily ever after.

“The gods placed them in the sky so their story would be remembered eternally.” Finished with your recount, you gazed up at the stars.

“The North Star,” you pointed, and when you saw the brunette’s bronze eyes squint, trying to see what you were talking about, you moved closer until you were halfway on his lap.

You took his palm in yours and guided it to a single star.

“That one. All the characters’ constellations I mentioned in the story revolve around that star. Perseus with his sword, Andromeda flying on Pegasus...”

“Huh? That’s the North Star? Isn’t it supposed to be the brightest in the sky or something?” It didn’t stand out from the rest as much as he thought.

You giggled. “That’s a myth, ‘samu. It’s funny you didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I never really had time to appreciate and learn about something so peaceful like nature until now.” He turned to you.

“Until you.”

You weren’t sure how, but it was almost as if the moonlight had carved out his pretty face. Ethereal, you had called the moon, and it reflected in your lover’s features. His eyes took in the charm of the millions of lights in the night and synthesized the feeling to bring it back to you.

“If I were one of the gods, I would’ve created a whole galaxy reflecting your soul.”

In the midst of terror and chaos, the detective’s eyes revolved around humans and their violence rather than around the sun and the planets. Eyes and soul—how else could he focus on anything else when that’s all life showed him?

“Because I see the constellations in you—Andromeda, Pegasus, Carina, Orion…” it had been a few months, and throughout you had shown and told him all the stories behind the stars in the sky.

“And now I can stop to smell the flowers, love. I can watch the Ursa Minor, even if I still find it hard to sleep.” You were the bridge to his bronze gaze and iron marrow—you showed him that you were human, but that a heart could really exist without violence or malice.

I see a reason why the nebulas are placed as they are, even if stories are just stories. I see a reason I’m here. With you.

He sealed the thought with a kiss to your lips, under the celestial moon and the heavens’ watch.

You always wondered why Dazai paid such close attention whenever you started rambling—initially, you didn’t think he’d care that much about tales of space. But you understood him a bit better now, his complex heart. You held onto him a bit tighter to him as you kissed him back.

…

“Oh yeah. What did you mean when you said ‘of course,’ when I started talking about Perseus having to fight over another guy for Andromeda?”

And Dazai was his lighthearted self once again.

“We’re definitely Andromeda and Perseus in another universe,” Dazai winked. “You’ve always deserved to be treated like a princess! I would totally save you from a sea monster. And I’d be an equestrian if I could too—even better, a flying one!”

“Sure…”

“C’mon, bella, you see me at those horse-racing events all the time! Anyway, most important of all, I had to fight for you. Such a tough world when every other man is also at your feet.” He crossed his arms. “Having Medusa’s head would’ve made things so much easier! I really would’ve had a whole army of stone statues if I did.”

“No, you really didn’t need it at all,” you replied, laughing at Dazai, who was now pouting.

“Osamu the demigod: slayer of monsters or not, I only have eyes for you.” You kissed him on the cheek.

“Unlike Andromeda, I wouldn’t let two men fight over me and marry the one who wins.

“I would just choose you right away.”

CHUUYA : babydoll, you’re worth more than all those stars combined. — he only gives you the best.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. Thank you for informing me, though,” you said before hanging up the phone.

You didn’t sue them on the line, albeit irritated. Tonight, you were supposed to have a date with Chuuya at one of the fancy restaurants he somehow discovered more of in the city when you thought you finally visited them all, but your reservations were cancelled last minute.

“Hey, princess,” the handsome ginger said when you phoned him next. You could sense a smile through his words on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“Weird-ass restaurant cancelled our plans,” you said. “Not even a refund.”

Chuuya quickly picked up on the disappointment in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t get his money back. Money was nothing—he was a Port Mafia executive. Stacks of bills piled into his hands every day, and he quietly flexed on it through his collection of wine in the cellar, his clothes, and gifts to you.

What he wasn’t wealthy in was time. It had been almost a month since Chuuya had any free time—the boss had been overworking him amidst never-ending Yokohama mayhem. His large penthouse actually proved to be a disadvantage when you were the only one staying in it. It was too empty; it was too quiet for a home, there was an awkward gap in the bed you slept in.

“It’s okay, baby,” came Chuuya’s voice reassuringly. “Don’t worry ‘bout some shitty-ass restaurant.

“Meet me home at the rooftop at the time we originally planned.”

“…Alright,” you replied, unsure of what he was going to do, but you were grateful anyway that you’d get to spend time with him.

“And get ready too, like we originally planned,” he added, and this time, you could imagine the smugness in his smile. “See ya soon.”

…

The bell chimed as the elevator approached the top of Chuuya’s apartment, signaling that you reached the rooftop.

“Chuu?” you called out as the doors opened. He was nowhere to be found—instead a pathway of candles and a trail of rose petals leading to the other side.

Your heels clicked on the ground as you slowly followed the course. It was dark towards the back of the rooftop, but the front overlooked the entire city of Yokohama.

Another quiet flex.

“Hey, beautiful.” You noticed him before the lively city behind him, before the romantic scene he had set up—the path of petals expanded into scattering around the table Chuuya was sitting at. He was dressed up too—looking as attractive as ever.

“The Nakahara Restaurant,” you hummed, taking a seat in front of him. “Not bad.”

Chuuya smirked. “Not bad? We get Michelin stars, baby. Trust me.”

You giggled. “I don’t know about that, Chuu. You’ll have to prove it to me.” It was like you had turned the tables on him. Usually, he only deemed a restaurant good if you were pleased with the food.

“Alright.” Now, you were going to rate his. You could tell he was going to enjoy this.

“You hungry?”

You nodded.

With a snap of Chuuya’s fingers, you immediately heard footsteps scurrying toward the two of you.

Two young men, one with raven hair until silver tips and the other with an entirely silver head—you realized they were waiters from who knows where—approached you with a dish.

“Appetizers by Executive Nakahara,” the first one said.

“Wait—did you cook everything too?”

“Duuh, you take this for a fraud or something?” Chuuya failed to hide the pride on his face.

…

The appetizer, entrée, and dessert proved delicious, and you were forced to eat your previous words.

He was talented in just about everything.

Chuuya kicked the two ‘waiters’ out of his house after dessert was served, leaving the two of you finally alone. The candlelight amid the dark sky enveloped your figures in an intimate glow.

“I would’ve been fine with even just takeout,” you laughed after taking a sip out of your wine glass.

He smiled. “As if. It’s a special night, doll, we finally have time to see each other again.”

“Exactly! Seeing you is what matters most,” you said.

“Anyway, thank you, Chuu. I appreciate this so much. And I guess you’re right—you earn a Michelin Star from me.”

Chuuya looked towards the city below you and back. “Didn’t doubt it one bit. But that’s not the only stars we’re getting tonight.”

You looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get shocked.”

Your lover snapped again—you picked up a slight difference in it this time compared to the previous times he signaled—and suddenly, Yokohama went dark.

You didn’t know how, but the city’s electricity had completely cut off at the mafia executive’s command.

“Chuu—?”

“You’re not looking the right way.”

You had been staring at the pitch-black buildings below in fazed awe, but it seemed to have switched places with the skies as now, small scattered lights began to fade in when you looked up, your eyes adjusting to the dark.

“Chuu!” You stood up in excitement. “We can see stars! In Yokohama!”

The ginger chuckled before pulling out a folded comforter from under the table. “Here, it’s better this way. Now this is what the wine was really for.”

…

Chuuya had fixed the comforter on the rooftop and pulled out a few pillows so that you were able to lie down and watch above more comfortably.

“I did this a lot when I stayed in Paris for a bit,” he said, explaining how he got the idea. “But the lights stayed on 24/7 there, too, so I had to use a telescope.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “We could’ve done that too. You really startled everyone just for this.”

As if on cue, you suddenly heard someone shout in the distance, going “Hey! Who the hell turned off all the lights?!” You and Chuuya both snorted.

“Just for you,” he corrected. “I think this is better anyway. They can handle one night without power. And I made sure the hospitals and other important establishments stayed untouched.”

It was crazy how much power the man had. “Not entirely evil then,” you said.

“Yeah, plus I was also really aiming at that restaurant that tried ruining our plans,” Chuuya smirked.

You looked back at the stars and then Chuuya again, who hadn’t taken his cerulean eyes off your face.

You lay together to gaze at the stars. But instead of those, he was looking at you.

You couldn’t stop the flurry of coyness you got. He looked absolutely stunning under the heavens—it was almost unfair. It would be if you weren’t the one who got to see him in such a state. He looked mesmerized—mesmerized with you?

“Hey, you’re going to miss it if you keep staring at me,” you said.

“I’m seeing you and those galaxies for the first time in a while,” Chuuya replied. “I think I’d rather watch you.”

He kissed you while you were still smiling, causing him to grin, too. You felt light and safe around him and the blankets, and he felt the same. All aggression and stress ceased from his head, healed by you and the moonlight.

“Y’can name stars after people too, right?” he asked when you pulled back. “I swear, I’m going to make the next scientist who discovers one name it after you. It’d be way better than those random shitty names they give nowadays.”

FYODOR : i have the cosmos mapped out, likewise your soul. — you alone, he adores.

There was not a word said as you got into the passenger seat of the car that Fyodor was driving. He had left a note earlier that day—Zolotse, you’re coming with me on a mission tonight. Prepare what you need and bring the sleeping bags, and you had done so with little hesitation.

The sun had already gone down, but you were used to this. Initially, you had thought his job the opposite of himself—the demon was called to bizarre places sporadically and had to adapt to their settings in a short amount of time. You only realized after being with him for a while that he planned these things beforehand, and he planned them long ago.

The job was made for him—his little game of fate and chess.

He drove for around four hours straight. In that time, you had put on your favorite music, and talked with him about the usual—your latest philosophical obsession, anything interesting about his latest endeavors—you hadn’t realized you had gotten so far away from civilization.

Fyodor must’ve become nocturnal from all the time he’d spent in the dark, because it was pitch-black in all directions when he finally parked the car and you stepped out.

And only then you finally asked him. “Fedya, where are we?”

He didn’t respond, instead going to the back of the car and opening the trunk, handing you your sleeping bag and a flashlight.

You flipped the switch on, trying to scan the surroundings for any hint of where this journey took you.

“Darling, you’re quite naïve,” Fyodor said as you looked down at rocks and twigs below your shoes. “I’m concerned about how easily you agreed to let someone drive you hours out into the wilderness.”

“I’d do it only for you,” you replied, giggling. “I trust you.” Alas, he had answered your question, though you still didn’t know what he was here for.

“Follow me. We have a bit of hiking to do.”

…

A secret hideout? Meeting spot? Something valuable hidden here? Your mind came up with countless reasons why your lover’s current mission took place on a mountain and how he could even navigate without a map. The entire thing was strange—you hadn’t even seen him take any valuables of some kind besides a tent and his own sleeping bag.

The walk-up was a bit tedious. Thankfully, you wore the right shoes and had eaten well beforehand, but you still didn’t expect you would be partaking in exercise so late at night. It was also hard to see, the flashlights scarcely making a difference.

You came across a very steep hill; it was almost like you had to climb rather than hike up.

“Apologies for the inconvenience,” you heard Fyodor from above as he went first to ensure each step was safe. “It’ll be worth it later.”

“Ah-” You hardly had time to ponder his statement when you misstepped on a loose twig, causing you to slip. However, a hand reached to tightly grab you before you slid down.

“Careful, milaya.”

Fyodor kept your hand clasped in his throughout the rest of the trek. You finally reached a large clearing by the edge of a cliff—devoid of trees and hard bedrock.

“We’re here.”

He began setting up the tent while you looked around. There was nothing at all out of the ordinary—nothing suspicious for the demon to use. Were you really here just to camp?

“The goal: your eyes to adjust.”

Fyodor had finished and had been looking at you for some time—smiling, at the way your brows furrowed and how you were still lost with this entire night.

“What-?” you asked as he walked over to take your sleeping bag. You followed him as he set it right next to his.

“Sit next to me, lyubov,” he said, guiding you down. “I’ll tell you the secret to getting directions up here.”

He tilted his head up, and for the first time, you noticed an entire galaxy before you.

…

Drenched under the vastness of the dark skies and lights of the stars, Fyodor began to speak.

“We’ve used star navigation for thousands of years,” he said. “Fifty-eight stars and thirty-eight constellations that we’re able to use, but you only need to locate the Ursa Major to find north and Orion to find west.”

You nodded. Perhaps this is what he had come here to do—find directions to something that no GPS or technology recorded. He had probably taken you along just because he thought you’d admire the view and how you did. Fyodor was right—the walk-up was worth this view.

It was like you were in a trance. You had seen stars, but nothing like this before. The entire Milky Way galaxy was visible to your eyes, countless little suns that seemed barely out of your grasp, even though they were millions of miles away.

“Fedya, how many of them do you recognize by name?”

“By now, I have them all memorized because I’ve found it helpful. If an apocalypse surged the earth, they would still be there. If the world ended, they would still be there. The cosmos remain untouched by us—they watch humanity dance from afar. The nomads knew this the best—when we traveled, we relied on nothing but nature.”

You wondered how many body transfers it took for him to retain them all. There were so many little lights in the sky, it seemed near impossible to be able to gather even half in a mind’s jar. You guessed tens of years at the least, and even with that time, you knew only he could do it.

“You commend them too, don’t you?” you spoke, taking a risk in guessing his views.

“Elaborate for me.” You made eye contact with him, and amethyst eyes fawned over by the night almost enticed you even more than the entire view of the universe afore you.

“You appreciate them, and everything else that lays on the earth after the sun sets because they hold no flaw. They aren’t blemished by the foolishness of people.

“You can be at peace with them because they are perfect, unlike us.”

“You’re right. The perfect mankind would be as pure as the sun and the stars—untainted by something as unnatural as abilities. That’s how I see it, but why group yourself in such faults?”

“Hm?” was the only sound you were able to get out, when he grazed his fingers along your face, cupping your cheek.

“Printsessa, you are perfect.” He spoke smoothly, rich accent making his words sound like a lullaby.

“Your soul dances with the kosmos. Something so divine—you are the harmony of something as beautiful as what we see tonight.

“You are the only one who matches the heavens; my love, you surpass the heavens.”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you only registered then that it was you two alone. It felt like you two were the only ones in the world with the witnesses to your love being the ends of the horizons, and that the universe who put on a show in the sky instead turned to watch you.

…

“Fedya…what was the mission?” you asked softly as you cuddled with him, your hands reaching for his silky hair as you lay on his chest.

You felt his smile. “You’re still so naïve, darling; you didn’t have to think so much. The mission was to bring you here. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out, has it not?”

SIGMA : i’ve never seen it before! (the aurora borealis) — he learns what love is through you.

“Sigma, baby, let’s go!”

The man had a slightly puzzled face as he let you eagerly lead him outside, past your home’s backyard—into the hills beyond. Other than the Sky Casino, it was your favorite spot, especially when you wanted some peace away from the rest of humanity and its industry.

Your lover was utterly confused why you made sure he did not fall asleep this evening. He always went to bed far earlier than you and rose while you were still lost in dream—perhaps snoring—but tonight you insisted.

And Sigma followed, even though he was at the verge of passing out from exhaustion—managing a casino was hard. He let you take his hand and direct him, even without a clue of where you were going.

Maybe that was what love was—blindly following another.

“I have a surprise.” You slightly turned your head back to look at him, and he swore he would remember this scene forever. His hand still clasped around yours, the warm glow of the back porch’s bistro lights cast upon your face, and your sweet smile—though it was dark outside, he felt that your smile lit up his world more than all the stars combined in the night sky.

The cosmos were a new thing for him. You had introduced watching the stars to him, in this special place beyond your backyard.

Immediately after his first time learning what the Big Dipper was, and that the little lights in the sky were actually much farther than they seemed, he called for a viewing deck to be created for the Sky Casino.

That way, even on nights away from you and home, he could still gaze at the same stars, and for you as well if you wanted to visit.

“Are we stargazing?” Sigma asked as you ran up one of the hills with him. He held a chuckle to himself. You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You were so cute.

“It’s a little different this time,” you giggled, setting down a blanket for the two of you to sit. Before, you would bring foldable chairs, but you realized that they made it a bit difficult for you to cling onto Sigma when you wanted to cuddle with him.

“We should start to see it in just a few minutes,” you said, looking up.

“Okay…”

The stars were there as usual. Sigma had never thought that something as pretty as your heart could exist in something physical, but that was how he saw those small lights in the sky.

If only you knew that whenever you decided to talk about how beautiful the skies were at night, he wanted to say they were literally just a reflection of you.

As soon as the clock on your watch hit the next hour, you immediately grabbed Sigma’s arm in enthusiasm.

Now he was really starting to wonder what got you so jumpy.

“Hey! Do you see it?!”

Sigma caught himself so distracted by you that he was watching your face instead of where your eyes were looking at.

He blushed when you looked at him, but thankfully you remained oblivious to his embarrassment.

“The green light! Do you see it?”

Sigma looked up, and he saw what looked like sliver of green contrast the dusky sky.

“That’s natural,” you began to explain. “It works through the earth’s magnetic field colliding with the atmosphere.

“Watch how it dances.”

A show started to unfold before the two of you. Sigma watched as the small touch of light became even brighter, transforming into a ribbon. He watched as the ribbon began to travel across the sky, overtaking the darkness. He watched in awe as it was joined by another green stream, traversing the horizons together.

“Wow,” you both said in awe.

“It’s called the aurora borealis,” you spoke.

“You can see it regularly if you travel way up north, but it’s a rare event here.

“I wanted to experience it with you.”

Sigma turned to look back at you, butterflies in his tummy and a surge of warmth overflowing his heart when he met your face—cheeks glowing from the reflection of the chasma and your eyes full of adoration.

“With me?” Sigma asked.

“Of course,” you replied, pulling him up. “Look Sigma—a new color joined.”

He glanced up, seeing that a new hue had appeared, aligning itself with the green. A pinkish light had mixed itself in, creating a swirl of paints on the sky’s pallete.

It really seemed like the lights were dancing. And Sigma thought to himself—like me and her.

You seemed to have the same idea because you had taken his hands in yours and started to whirl him around. It was messy—a bit chaotic, but he let himself be dragged along for a bit until he got dizzy, because maybe love was blindly following someone.

Eventually, Sigma started laughing, and couldn’t be thrown around any longer. “Calm down, love!” He took control of the dance, guiding your steps so that it turned into a more organized waltz.

He became captivated when he twirled you around—even though you were in your pajamas, you couldn’t look any less beautiful. He had danced with you in ballrooms, in gardens, but this unrehearsed night was the most enchanting of all.

…

You two danced until your feet started to hurt and Sigma’s exhaustion finally got the best of him. Now, you lay together, watching the rest of the night’s act play out.

“Whenever I look at the nebulas, I only think of you now, you know,” you confessed. “Because even if you’re up there, and I’m down on earth, we’re still looking at the same stars together.”

“I think the same,” Sigma replied. “It’s like we’re always connected in some way.”

You nodded with a smile, but you realized Sigma wasn’t finished yet.

“Actually, it’s more than that. I can only think of you when I see those things because all beauty leads back to you. I see your kindness in the sun and your energy in these colorful lights. I see your perseverance in the moon and most importantly, how many hearts you’ve made shine in the stars.

“And whatever ends up the brightest at night is mine, because you’ve warmed my heart the most.”

Your own heart was beating fast, by how your lover had spoken so tenderly to you and by the way he had rolled over towards you so that he was so close now—his lips just shy of yours.

“Sigma,” you whispered, and then you pulled him into a kiss.

It was then he finally understood: love wasn’t about blindly following another, he followed you because you were a blessing of trust, carrying the stars of devotion on your hands.

i heard if you rb, u’ll be able to watch the stars w/ ur fav tn !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

this fic wouldn’t have ever seen the light, weren’t for @cheriiyaya (hi); thank u bby for encouraging me start to finish. <3 a lil prompt inspo for dazai & fyodor from her. ^_^

p.s. did i imply a past!love triangle in dazai’s scenario? yes. was i referring to the fyozai ‘til death we do art love triangle? maybe..! actually, for some rzn, i included many things here that foreshadow other fics coming soon. stay tuned :)

© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner by cafekitsune.

[livelaughlovesubs]

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

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

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

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

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

I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just

go back to lurking once more…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[syoounn]

•Their reaction confessing to them (both of you are already married)

•Characters: Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor

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Chuuya

As you said to him that you'll say something serious.. his eyebrows furrowing in slight concern at your seriousness. He looked at you, waiting intently as he studied your face.

“… and what is it, Doll?”

"I think im in love with you.." you said, trying to be more serious and trying not to smile.

Chuuya blinked at your words, his mind taking a few moments to process your meaning since it didn’t seem like a serious situation at first. Once he realized you were joking, his face softened into an amused smirk.

“I’d hope so, Doll. We are married after all.” He replied, poking your side.

Chuuya chuckled at your fake pout, finding your silliness utterly endearing. He shifted slightly, so he was hovering over you, his forearms placed on either side of your head.

“And here I thought you were telling me something serious for a moment.”

"I was really serious!" you protested.

“Oh really?” Chuuya pulled away to look you in the eye, his smirk still present on his face. He raised an amused eyebrow at you.

“So you’re telling me you’ve just realized you love me? After goddamn years of us being together?”

He then chuckled again at the absurdity of the situation and poked your side.

“I hope you aren’t just trying to get my attention, because I can give you attention in another way.” He murmured, his smirk turning into a grin as his hand moved to rest on your hip.

With that, he finally gave the attention you wanted that night.

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Dazai

You've said those words, making him clearly amused by your comment.

Bella, you think?” He replied, his voice taking on a slightly sarcastic tone. He knew you were likely just being cute, but his curiosity was piqued nonetheless as you nodded.

“So, let me get this straight..” Dazai said, his tone still playful as he leaned in closer to you, his breath brushing against your ear.

“You think you’re in love with me..?” He repeated slowly, his smirk growing wider as he waited for your response.

“And here I thought you’d know how you felt about me..” Dazai teased, his playful eyes studying your expression.

“After all… we’ve been together for so long..” He murmured, his voice dropping an octave lower.

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“But for some reason… you only think you’re in love with me..?”

“I’m wounded..” He murmured, his smirk turning into a playful pout. Feigns heartbreak dramatically, placing a hand over his heart and letting out a melodramatic sigh.

You felt bad.. as you cuddled him, giving him some affection. Dazai chuckled at your sudden change of tone, letting out a soft sigh when you cuddled into him. He wrapped his arms around you securely, pulling you closer to his body. He smiled slightly as he felt your warmth against him.

“That’s more like it.” He murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He kissed the top of your head affectionately, his hand slowly rubbing gentle circles on your back.

You continue to pamper him for more affection, not aware he literally manipulated you for doing that. A victorious smirk can be seen on his face as you spoil him.

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Fyodor

As you confessed to him, Fyodor quirked an eyebrow, a glint in his indigo eyes. He slowly approached you in a few, long strides, closing the distance between you. He loomed over you, towering over your much smaller frame. His dark hair fell over his face, partly obscuring his gaze.

"Now, now, dear, don't act like a foolish schoolgirl with a childish crush."

He gently pushed you up against a wall, trapping you with his body, pinning you in place. He leaned down so he could whisper in your ear. "You are a respectable woman, a devoted wife. Act as such, please."

You nodded nervously.

Good girl. He murmured before gently biting your earlobe. Fyodor's hand moved from your hip to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. His body completely towered over you, and he let out a quiet huff of amusement when he felt you shiver against him.

I guess no more playing silly at your husband.

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I'll make more characters, i promise. (｡≧Д≦｡)

[justcallmesakira]

"𝑰𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌?"

summary: just my favourite characters taking care of reader when shes sick

genre: hurt to comfort, full fluff

warnings: reader has a personality similar to me!, fem reader, nothing else, double suicide joke on dazai

a/n: guys please I am so sick right now I feel sohdghdgdhd if only there was someone who could send me some sakilai selfship stuff/j

"nikolaiiiii" you whine from your bed eyes too teary to reach out wherever he is.

"Ah, my dove, I am coming right now" he shouts from outside of your room running in with a packed box of soup.

Unfortunately because of nikolais amazing cooking skills he failed to make a simple cup of soup. So he decided to order from takeout.And that soup is the food you need to eat right now.

"feed me please..." you state when he placed the bowl of soup and sat down next to you."Dove i think you can feed yous-" you only sniffed and looked at him with teary eyes which instantly made a certain feeling of guilt rise up in his stomach.

"fine then. Guess I will have to take care of my lovely crybaby girlfriend!" nikolai jokes before using taking off his gloves using his teeth and putting them aside, which you always considered a very handsome and hot thing for him to do.

His bare hands pick up the spoon full of soup and vegetables and gently slides it into you mouth, as fragile like a glass doll.

"Also I am not a crybaby! It was an act for you to feed me" you puff to which gogol gasps a bit too dramatically "you pesky silly! Come here daddy's going to punish you kittem" he jokingly says putting the bowl of soup on the bed side.

"HELP nikolai that is not funny! Stop THAT IS NOT FUNNY AT ALL. I am sick!!" you cry out getting out of his way which fails as he lunges towards you and holds you in his grasp

"I was joking! Calm down (name) I just want to hug your germs away." "Those germs will hug you back but okay!"

You sneakily crept up to the fridge before opening it, looking for a tub of icecream before finding it instantly. You reach out to grab it but before your hand can get any closer a hand slams the door shut.

You don't turn around to the figure behind you and swallow a spit, scared of the man's creepy and menacing smile from behind you.

"Now now, isn't my dear supposed to be in bed resting? So I wonder who this woman here is" his sarcastic voice rings in your ears as you slowly turn around.

"Fedya hahaha what are you doing here ahaha aren't you supposed to work?" you nervosuly laugh before you start coughing again, more ferocious this time.

His cruel and irritated shade hovering his eyes become more soft and tendor as he picked you up over his shoulders like a pack of potatoes and carried you to the bedroom.

"Fyodor? Since when did you become s-augh augh strong-?" you asked clearly shocked at his sudden romantic move.

"Say that again I am giving you medieval style treatment." "WH- wait how do you know medieval tre--"

Before you could finish your sentence, he throws you on the bed in the gentlest way before sitting down next to you and grabbing a medicine.

"please tell me it's not those swallow pills. I hate them like you everyone in Yokohama hates you" you pout but he only glares at you for a second.

"I mean- I love you hahaha, you know" you laugh it off and look at his nail bitten fingers elegantly take the spoon of the liquid and holds it up to you lips.

"ew that looks like pink vomit" you get away from the spoon infront of you. "(name) I didn't ditch my work for this, it feels like I am taking care of a child rather then my significant other."

"wellll you still counted me as your significant other so" you tease him, trying to make him forget about the medicine.

"(name)" his voice is colder than your cold and you only look at him with puppy glistening eyes. "can.. can you feed me with your mouth? a sickly kiss?" you ask innocently.

"you are already sick fedya, please?" he only sighs at your statement, knowing it's stupid and silly to argue with you.

He takes the medicine in his mouth and pulls you closer to push it in. It tastes bitter, but his lips make it sweet. It only lasts a moment but cures that starving feeling in your heart.

He pulls away as you swallow the liquid before tucking your self under the covers and start giggling like a school girl.

"sigh,,,please don't eat anything cold, your sickness will only worsen. Take your pills daily and I will send some chocolates later, okay? Don't be too much of a hassle"

"Bellllaaaaaa, i got you your favourite food!" his voice soothes out like a lullaby to your ears as you rise up from your bed and rush towards him.

"zai-zai!" But before you could say anything your head starts spinning and everything seems dizzy.

He keeps the bag of food on the table before rushing to catch you. "WOAH bella, can't have you spinning to death now can we! You told me if you had to die you wanted to die with me! Together"

He says picking you up bridal style and laughing at the swirls in your eyes. "i am here feeling like I just hot down from some Rollercoaster and your here joking? I swear to god dazai this is why you can't pull hoes"

"why would you say that bella? You pull germs" he pouts like a child but was probably smirking inside at his cheeky remark.

"You little manwh-" "shhh lets eat soem chocolate cheesecake shall we?" he places you on the side of your bed and brings the packets of cakes and slowly lays it down infront of you.

You sick and tired looking eyes glow up. "I want the cheesecake!" you announce to him as dazai laughs before opening the packet and taking a spoonful of the desert before motioning you to open your mouth.

He feeds you it whole slowly, which you only giggle "i didnt new yuo weer so living, dezai" you mumble chewing on the contents.

"finish your food first bella, then you can compliment your amazing BOYFRIEND HAHAHA" he laughs before getting up to clear up the packets.

While he does that you snuggle up to your bed before coughing for a while. "come join me, love" you motion him which your boyfriend does as he lays himself next to you

"Oh my bella, I hope you get well soon I can't wait to kiss you and hug you and maybe even fall off the bridge with you!"

You moved away from the camera turning on the record button and started dancing to the choreography of 'detention' by melanie martinez which by the way you should actually check out.

However as you were swifting your movements according to the dance you heard a Click and ran to you bed, but you only had a second to choose a sleep position before yosano can come.

"(name) I am not that stupid." she opens the door to enter the room as she looks at your pretend sleeping position.

"You can just dance hystericaly while you have a bad cold and have iron cells lesser than than the literacy rate in japan" your girlfriends scolding hits you hard so you decided to get up, what's the point.

"As much as i wish i could see more of you dancing" she continues, "You need to get better for it, I dont want you fainting once again like yesterday.

"who knew you could joke" you whine out. Yosano takes a chair and takes a place beside you. "I am not that serious, love. Now let me check your fever."

She takes off her gloves and presses her hand on your forehead. "Hmm, you have long way to fully recover" her voice is much softer than when she was scolding you.

"huhhh, that's not fair...i dont want to be bedridden for soooo long :(" your eyes start looking teary again, nose red from the heavy coughing from when she was taking care of you last night.

she sighs, "awhh my baby, there there. This is why I told you to take the medicines. But you didn't listen did you" you look up to her eyes glossy like a child who needs to be cared.

She kisses your forehead before getting up.

"I wish I could kiss your cold away however it won't work like that instead I will cook you your favourite chicken soup for you okay?"

a/n: man i hate my hoarse throat aughhhh I want fedya to take care of me rn *cough cough*

Divider crds: @anitalenia go check her blog NOW

Tags: @little-miss-chaoss @terururuko @inojuuy @biscuits-tragic-diner

[luvfy0dor]

“In Love With All of These Vampires ♡⁠˖” Vampire!Fyodor x Gn!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; blood, blood sucking, kissing, grinding, suggestive, Dazai hate, slightly sassy fyodor

Description; on nights like tonight, you're sure to prepare yourself for a visit from your night-stalking and hungry boyfriend. About 1800 words, even though it doesn't look like it.

A/n; he lingers in my mind 25/8 I love him so much- for more vamp stuff here's a post about vampire chuuya, and then here's one of my mooties posts about vampire fyodor ;333 ALSO HERE IT IS @mariaace ANDDD THANK YOU TO MY BSF FOR THE IDEA @ilovechuuy4 :3333

In the dark of the night, a tall man lurked in the shadows, his raven colored hair dangling in his face as the subtle wind gently pushed against it. His chilling gaze sent shivers down the spines of those who met it, instilling such a strong feeling of uneasiness that such unlucky souls made quick work of picking up their pace and fleeing. His fangs poked out of the corner of his lips, reflecting a shiny glare underneath the streetlights. His shadow stretched far in front of his body as he passed them and his footsteps created a small tapping sound as he made his way down the pavement. He was moving rather quickly to your home, hoping to arrive fast enough to avoid the rainstorms predicted by the earlier forecast. He could only move so rapidly though, as he hadn't fed in awhile and wasn't usually used to very much physical activity. One of those problems, however, would soon be fixed.

By the time he reached the gate to your yard, a soft rain had started to fall from the dark clouds above, blocking out any and all light from the stars and moon. All that was left to guide Fyodor through the darkness was the incandescent glow that shone through your window. His hair and hands were slightly damp, and as he tried to climb up to your window, his grip kept slipping. After a few attempts, he finally made it onto the roof, huffing and puffing as he took a breather. Once he felt that his heart was steadily beating again, he crawled over to the clear panes and knocked. His eyes scanned your room through the glass that was made blurry by the rain, droplets falling down the window in thin rivulets. Your body quickly came into view as you did a little jog over to open the window up and let him in.

"You didn't get caught in the rain, did you?" Was the first thing you asked him. He stared blankly at you with a damp face, hair, and outfit. "No." He replied sarcastically, slinging his leg over the sill and entering your room. You laughed a little bit, steadying him by holding his shoulders before turning to exit your room. "I'll grab you a towel." He hummed and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The knees of his pants were roughed up, a remaining indication of his struggle to get up onto your roof. When you returned with a towel for him, you noticed and commented on it. "It must have been difficult getting up there. There's always the front door, you know." You say, raising an eyebrow and draping the towel over his head, drying his hair up for him. To you, he seemed to have an odd affinity for climbing through windows and nearly fatiguing himself by doing such a thing, but he really just didn't want to encounter your roommate. What you didn't know was that the guy you lived with was his mortal enemy. Fyodor was simply petty enough to enter your home through the window rather than the door because he knew that the brunette man liked to hang in the living room with whichever woman he comes home with, if one at all, and that's where the door was.

"I can't do that." He'd tell you, his tongue tracing the point of his right fang. Your brows furrowed and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. "Why not? You literally wind yourself every time you climb up here." You say, drying his scalp underneath the top layer of his hair. "It's rude to ask a vampire that." He tells you, so seriously that you almost believe him. "And it's even ruder to comment on my physical abilities. I get up here just fine." You let out a skeptical hum and nod. "Okay, sure." You toss the towel at your laundry basket on the other side of the room and grin when you make it in. "Look at that, I'm a baller." You say, turning to him. "You should go pro, Myshka." He says, peeling the dampened coat off of his body and tossing it over the back of your desk chair. "Do you want some dry clothes? Your..." You gesture at his whole body. "Vampiric attire doesn't look the most comfortable for cuddling. And kissing. And etcetera." You offer, already making your way to your dresser before even hearing his answer.

"That would be nice, thank you." He says, already starting to remove his shirt. He took the clothes you had lended him and headed to the bathroom connected to your bedroom to change. When he emerged again, he looked much more comfortable and huggable. "Are they good?" You ask, looking him up and down and concluding that they fit him well enough. He nods and puts his wet clothes in the hamper with the previously discarded towel. "They fit me just fine, thank you." He says, approaching you and putting his hands on your waist. "Good, didn't want you to get my bed all damp with your wet butt." You tease, ghosting your fingertips over his spine with a grin. "Oh please, that bed has gotten wetter because of you on several occasions." He bluntly mutters, tracing your jawline and bringing your lips to his to give you a sweet and hungry kiss. You were still a bit stunned by his words, even after the two of you pulled apart. "Wowww, okay. I guess you're right, though. Tonight's probably gonna be one of those nights again, yeah?" You ask, twirling some of his long, black hair around your finger. "Hmm, maybe if you taste satisfactory enough." He says, brushing his thumb over the most recent puncture mark he had left in your neck to draw your blood.

"We both know I taste more than satisfactory." You respond. "I think it's just a matter of how hungry you are." You tilt your head to the side, awaiting the pinch of his bite. "Maybe." He responds in partial agreement, leaning down and finally sinking his fangs into your skin. After a moment of his sucking, the blood finally hit his tongue and he hummed, having missed the sweet feeling of his hunger being satisfied. It had been a week and a half since he last fed, and sure he could go for longer than that if he really needed to, but you just tasted so sweet- how could he not crave it? The crimson, wine-looking liquid that escaped his tongue trickled down your chest, but he scooped it up, making sure that his fingertip was facing the ceiling to keep the delicious substance in place for when he was ready to pull out of your neck and lick you clean. He usually hated messy food, but when it was your blood smeared on your chest and his hands, he thought of it almost as dessert.

Once he finally got his fix, he pulled away, licking his lips and teeth clean of your cherry colored fluids, wearing the dark color like a lip stain. He then sucked the excess blood off of his finger. "Mm, you taste magnificent, darling." He says, closing his eyes and catching his breath. He leaned in and kissed right below your ear, his bitten down fingernails touched your skin as he tightened his grip to pull you in further, making you furrow your brows at their rigid texture. "Are you sure? Maybe you should kiss me here so I can taste too.." you whisper, pressing your pointer against your lower lip. He smirks and sighs, leaning further into you, his lips hovering a solid inch away from yours. "I suppose, if you're so insistent on tasting yourself on my tongue."

He closed the gap and kissed you once more, his nose nudging your own as your lips moved together in a passionate pattern. His tongue ran acrossed your bottom lip, and you responded by opening your mouth to let him in. You could, infact, sense the metallic taste of yourself, quite easily, too. The taste of blood obviously wasn't one of your favorites, but Fyodor made it good. The only way your body could react to his lips and tongue on your own was by leading him over to your bed and continuing the kiss on his lap, your arms draped over his shoulders and your eyebrows knitted together desperately. Your hips moved against his ever so slightly, but it was enough to turn the both of you on. Fyodor grabbed you to hold you in place, pulling away from the kiss to speak. He was still hardly an inch away, and you could feel his breath against your skin.

"Stay still and be good, okay?" He muttered, his voice lower than usual. You gave a quiet 'mhm' and pushed his bangs out of his face. "We should take it slower. Wouldn't want to move to fast and get too excited. Your..less than appreciated roommate might hear and want to join..that freak." He mutters. You laugh at him under your breath. "You don't like him?" He shakes his head and chews on his lip. "He's a little bit promiscuous and shady for my liking. I do not." He affirms, his hands making their way to the small of your back. "So THAT'S why you won't go in through the front door and you prefer my window. You don't wanna see him! You're so petty, Fedya." You tease, poking his cheek gently. He swats your hand away and groans. "I never said that, but yes. Seeing that oaf is less than ideal, especially when I'm here to see you." You roll your eyes. "Dazai isn't even that bad. You must have caught him on a bad day whenever you formed this vendetta of sorts." Fyodor frowns and pinches you, giving you a rather exasperated look at the idea of his rival not being 'that bad.' "His only good quality is his intellect, which I see as a meet challenge. Other than that, he is undesirable to me. Enough about him, focus on me." He says.

"Oh, ofcourse." You grin, cupping his cheek and pulling him back into the kiss, running your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp soothingly. Soft moans were exchanged throughout the rest of the night, but the two of you generally decided that cuddling was more preferable in the moment than anything more intimate besides kisses, so that's how you ended the night- in the arms of your vampiric lover with the sound of his steady heartbeat right beneath your ear as the two of you chatted about anything and everything. The both of your voices were just above whispers, the soft lighting from the lamp on your nightstand added to the calming ambiance of your bedroom, allowing the two of you to peacefully fall asleep together, various types of hunger satisfied that evening.

A/n; YAYYYYYY I LOVE VAMP FYODOR HES SO FINEEEE BUT YEAH I hope this don't flop, if u can tell me what song the title lyric is from ill uh give u a cookie telepathically

[yokohamapound]

How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really. 

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes. 

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him. 

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened. 

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature. 

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal. 

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day. 

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him. 

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him. 

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him. 

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his. 

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight. 

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you. 

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf. 

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche. 

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet. 

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him. 

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal. 

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is. 

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

[chososchalupa]

Hey how about Bsd men (such as Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Akutagawa, Atsushi and anyone of your choice) cooking for their s/o!reader? Love your writing btw!

thank you!! <3

cooking for you

includes - Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Akutagawa, Atsushi

wc - 420, 239, 346, 339, 325

not proof read once again bc i am just too sleepy

Dazai -

You sniffled as you laid your head on Dazais lap, you had woken up with the worst cold and no matter how much medicine you took, it was not going away.

Dazai ran his fingers through your hair softly, “You feeling okay?”

You nodded, not wanting to speak due to your sore throat.

“You know, Mori used to make this special soup whenever he was ill. I could get the recipe from him and make it for you” Dazai smiled

You laughed softly, “I’m okay, ‘Samu. Thank you”

Dazai very rarely cooked and when he did, it didn’t come out the best and you did not want to upset your stomach even more.

You watched as Dazai pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Mori. “I have to go to the store to get the ingredients, will you be okay?”

You sighed, of course he would refuse to listen to your denial. “I’ll be okay. You can just get a can of soup. You don’t need to cook for me”

Dazai simply waved his hand, dismissing your words. “I’ll be right back!” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

You must have fallen asleep while Dazai was gone as you awoke to a blaring sound coming from the kitchen. The fire alarm. Of course.

You got up from the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket and walked towards the sound. You walked in to see a pot of soup on the stove, and your boyfriend fanning the smoke alarm.

“You’re awake! Perfect timing!” Dazai smiled, turning to face you once the alarm had subsided.

You nodded and sat at the table, watching as he poured you a bowl of the soup he had made.

“This will make you feel much better,” Dazai smiled, placing the bowl in front of you.

You thanked him as you looked into the bowl, it looked and smelled great but your expectations were still low.

Dazai sat next to you and watched as you moved your spoon of soup into your mouth, “What do you think?”

You swallowed and smiled up at him, “It’s really good. Thank you”

For once, you weren't lying about his cooking. It did taste good, way better than you were expecting. You finished the bowl and mumbled something about needing a nap causing Dazai to smile, lifting you up from your chair and carrying you to your shared bed.

You’re still not sure what Dazai put in his soup, but you woke up feeling much better thanks to him.

Chuuya -

You opened your eyes to the morning sun shining bright into your bedroom, you looked over and realized your boyfriend, Chuuya, wasn’t in bed with you as he normally is. 

‘Mori must have called’ you thought as you rolled out of bed. 

With Chuuya gone, you were in no rush to get ready. You picked out an outfit from your closet and went to the bathroom to finish your morning routine. 

As you exited the shower, you could smell pancakes in the air. Confused, you quickly got dressed and walked to the kitchen.

“About time you woke up!” Chuuya laughed as he turned away from the stove.

You glanced down at his body, he had on your apron and was covered in pancake mix. You giggled softly as you wrapped your arms around him, “I thought you had left this morning”

Chuuya returned the hug before turning back around to flip the pancakes he had on the stove. “Nope! Boss said i’m free for the weekend”

“About time” You responded, sitting at the bar in your kitchen as you watched your boyfriend continue making breakfast.

The two of you talked about Chuuyas upcoming mission until he was finally done cooking. He plated you both a full plate and came to sit down beside you.

“This is delicious, Chu” You smiled

“I’m glad you like it” He responded, kissing your cheek. Leaving the residue of maple syrup on your face.

Fyodor -

You sighed loudly as you walked into Fyodor's office.

“What is it, my love?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of his monitors.

“Are you going to be in here all day?” You asked, sitting on top of his desk.

Fyodor sighed and turned towards you, grabbing your hand and pressing his lips to it, “I’m sorry. This is very important. You understand, yes?”

You gave a fake smile and nodded, “Of course. I may ask Sigma if he’d like to go shopping”

Fyodor nodded and gave one last kiss to your hand before turning back to the screens in front of him, “Be safe”

You quickly left the office and sent a text to Sigma, letting him know that you’d be on your way soon.

“Can you believe he forgot our anniversary?!” You asked as Sigma got into the car beside you.

“I’m a bit surprised” He responded, “He is always going on how much you mean to him”

“He’s just always so caught up in work” 

“Maybe he is planning something for tonight?”

“Maybe” You sighed

By the time you and Sigma had finished shopping, it had been well past dinner. 

“Should we go out?” You asked

Sigma gave a sad smile, “I can’t tonight. I unfortunately have plans with Nikolai. Besides, Fyodor may have plans for the two of you” 

“If he ever stops staring at his monitors” you laughed

You had finally gotten home after dropping Sigma off, you walked through your front door expecting to have to drag Fyodor out of his office yourself but the sight in front of you had made you freeze. 

“Welcome home, my love!” Fyodor smiled, as he pulled a rack of lamb from the stove. “I made us dinner for tonight. I hope you are hungry”

You couldn’t help the wide smile that came onto your face

“I thought you forgot” you whispered, going to hug your boyfriend of five years.

“How could I forget such an important day?” He responded, “I am done working for today, let’s eat and celebrate our anniversary, yeah?”

Akutagawa -

“What are you doing for your birthday tonight? Are you and Ryu doing anything?” Gin asked as the two of you walked from the Port Mafia building to her and Akutagawa's shared apartment. 

“Nothing that I know of. He hasn't even said ‘Happy Birthday’ to me yet” You sighed

“Really? Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen him since I left this morning. I wonder if he’s feeling ill”

As you approached their apartment, you allowed Gin to enter first. You went to follow but was abruptly stopped when she turned around with her finger pressed to her lips, “Listen” she whispered

The two of you stood in the doorway as you heard two voices coming from the kitchen,

“Is that Chuuya?” You whispered, “There’s no way he got here before we did. He hadn’t even left his office when we left!”

Gin shrugged as the two of you listened 

“Akutagawa, please don’t make me go over there. Baking a cake should not be this difficult.”

“They’re on facetime” Gin giggled

“Baking a cake?” You whispered back

Gin nodded before Akutagawa spoke,

“They could get here any minute, Chuuya! What should I do?!”

“Put the cake in the fucking oven! I’m hanging up”

You heard Akutagawa sigh as the call ended, “I hope i’m not fucking this up”

“Fucking what up?” Gin asked, walking into the house with you following behind.

Akutagawa spun around, his face a beat red, “I am baking a cake”

“A cake? What flavor?” You asked

“It is vanilla with chocolate frosting”

“My favorite!” you smiled, walking over and kissing your boyfriend.

“I know,” He smiled, “I hope it’s good. I’ve never baked anything before”

“We heard,” Gin laughed, “We were outside the whole time you were on the phone with Chuuya”

You giggled as Akutagawa’s eyes widened, “Go” he replied, pointing towards Gin’s bedroom.

She laughed and waved at you before turning to her room

“It will be good, Aku. Thank you” You smiled up at him

“Of course, darling. Happy birthday”

Atsushi -

“Atsushi” you whined, laying your head on his desk.

The two of you had been stuck doing paperwork since this morning, hours had past and the only thing you’ve had to eat today was a donut that Ranpo had given you in exchange for doing his paperwork as well.

“We’re almost done,” Atsushi responded, continuing to type on his computer.

“You’d be done a lot faster if you stopped. talking.” Kunikida said, glaring at the two of you

You rolled your eyes before going back to your desk. Although, it was only another fifteen minutes before you were complaining again.

“You are almost as bad as Dazai,” Kunikida said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Atsushi stood from his desk, “I’m finished mine. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nodded as you laid your head back on your desk, this was going to take forever.

You ended up finishing two papers before your boyfriend came back, covered in sweat.

“Where did you go? Why do you look like you just ran five miles?” You asked, looking down at the bag in his hand.

“I did run five miles” He replied, lifting the bag in his hand up “I went to the store and got us food!”

You nearly jumped from your chair as Atsushi pulled two cup ramens from the bag, “This should be enough until you’re finished with yours and Ranpos papers. We can go out once we’re done!”

“You are the absolute best, Atsushi” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek as you took the food from his hand.

You went to leave the room, going to make your noodles until you heard Kunikida yell, “Get back to work!”

You went to yell back but Atsushi grabbing the food from your hand distracted you, “Go back. I’ll make it for us”

You smiled and nodded, heading back to your desk to finish up the never-ending pile of work that was waiting for you.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

I took a liking to this man recently so bear with me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ Promise I'll write one for Dazai soon.

The step-mother who once wore a mask of kindness revealed her true nature after your father passed away.

"Y/n!!!!! Get down here!" The woman adorned in luxurious fabrics and expensive jewels screamed your name at the top of her lungs. You were cleaning the messed she caused you earlier that morning.

I'm thirsty! Go make me a drink - the elder woman demanded, tossing you orders like you were nothing but a servant. Dutifully, you got her a glass of orange juice, only for her to knock it to the floor, watching it shatter without so much as a sip. Now, you carefully pick up the sharp fragments, trying not to cut yourself.

Her voice rang out again, shrill and impatient. You replied reluctantly, fully aware that hearing your name from her lips rarely brought anything good "Yes, I'm coming!"

Descending the stairs, you were greeted by an unfamiliar man seated on the couch sipping tea while speaking to your stepmother. The moment his eyes - cold and calculating met yours, a chill ran down your spine. Something was off.

Behind him stood two soldiers, their presence exuding quiet menance. Without warning, at his signal, they raised their weapons and shot your stepmother dead before your eyes.

"Y/n.." The man said, stepping forward. His uniform bores an air of authority, and his eyes, a piercing shade of violet, seemed to see right through you. "I need your ability." You stared at him with question. What ability? You have one?

You avoided his eyes and stared back where the corpse of your stepmother was. The man moved in your direction to keep your eyes on him. "You didn't know? Your father was a honorable man, yet he told you nothing?" You shook your head, stunned.

He sighed, almost amused "My my... You have the power to predict the near future, Y/n. Now that I've freed you from.." his gaze flicked to the corpse "whoever that was to you. I want you to work for me." Suprisingly, you agreed.

The man introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoevsky. He was straightforward, almost unsettlingly so. He admitted having prepared several ways to persuade you, but things had turned out far easier than he anticipated.

As your childhood home burnt to the ground, You felt little attachment to the ashes left behind. Without your father, it had never truly felt like home.

┈┈┈┈

"Now that you're with me, I'll teach you to use your ability." Fyodor said, his lips curling to a smile as he lead you to a room in his mansion. The place was old, its hallways cracks and worn, yet some rooms looked oddly well-maintained. The moment you sat on your bed, a strange sensation overtook you. Pain pierces your skull like a hammer blow, your nose bled, and your body collapsed. You fainted.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you saw was Fyodor sitting by your bedside. "Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Much better", you replied, though your voice was quiet and hesitant. "Good, rest." His hand gently patting your head. Suspicious of his kindness, you put his hand away and backed of a little. "You said you need my ability, what for?" For a moment, he was silent, simply staring at you with those unnerving eyes. That act creeps you out. Then, he stood and turned toward the door. "You'll find out soon enough." Before leaving, he added "You'll understand."

That night, sleep evaded you. Creaking footsteps echoed from above and around your room. A constant reminder of guards patrolling the mansion. Your mind raced with questions about Fyodor. Cruelty seemed second nature to him. After all, he had ordered your stepmother's death without hesitation.

A voice suddenly whispered from the windows "Shh, over here!" You turned, startled to see a man with white hair and a distinctive fringe. "I'm here to save you, open the window!"

"Save me?" You murmured to yourself, wondered.

┈┈┈┈

The story started to unfold as you encountered Atsushi and the men he mentioned to be detectives from Armed Detective Agency, your ability leading you to dangerous visions and even more dangerous choices.

"So she fled?" Fyodor stood in your room questioning the two guards, eyes scanning the whole place. "W-we didn't hear any sound.. sir- --khoff-" The one who was answering him cough up blood and drop dead soon after, leaving the other trembled in fear. "FIND HER!" Fyodor ordered.

Suddenly, a vision flashed in front of your eyes, you saw Fyodor. "STOP!!" You screamed, frightened Atsushi who was rushing through the bushes. He then stopped. He knew you saw something, as your ability is unstable, he didn't know when it will happen, yet it's better to be cautious. Fyodor is no man to joke with.

And so You returned. On your own.

Fyodor didn't even have to go, you're already here. "What did you see that changed your mind?"

"A lot" you replied "and definitely not worth risking the lives of others." By 'a lot', you mean there will literally be mountains of corpses. You got a hint of his nature and it was wrong for you to follow him back here, but he freed you from that wicked woman. You have mixed feelings about him. Fyodor signaled you to come closer to where he sits. You followed, he pulled you in. "Don't worry, You are in good care."

┈┈┈┈

Months passed. The bond between you and Fyodor grew more complicated. He exploited your ability ruthlessly, yet showed an inexplicable tenderness towards you. His touch lingered, his words carry a weight you couldn't ignore, and his gaze seemed to pierce in your very soul.

The only drawback to using your ability was the toll it took on your body. Prolonged use often left you feverish and drained.

Today was one of those days. You lay sprawled in your bed, feeling as though every ounce of strength had left your body. It was nearly impossible to even lift a finger.

"Y/n! Time to take your medicine." Fyodor called as he pushed the door open. Since aligning yourself with him, you had become something of a criminal, constantly moving from one safe house to another. You had long lost count of how many places you'd stayed in. Fyodor often leaves you behind, disappearing for meetings or visits to members of his mysterious organization. He never shares the details of his plans, brushing off your curiosity with a dismissive "It doesn't concern you."

Now as he sat beside you, you couldn't help but feel conflicted. You'd seen firsthand how easily he sacrificed others, treating them as pawns in his schemes. So why did he bother taking care of you with such apparent concern?

"Y/n, what are you thinking about?" He asked, his piercing eyes scanning your face. You shook your head weakly, unable to answer. He sighed and helped you sit up, his hands steady yet firm. "Your temperature is no joke, can you take this on your own?"

Before you could respond, another vision overwhelmed you. A sudden flash of Fyodor mercilessly killing the members of ADA. Blood, screams and lifeless bodies filled your mind, and it was enough to make your stomach churns. You had only encountered Atsushi and others a handful of times, but their kindness had left an impression. You couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a cruel fate.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Fyodor's voice broke through the fog of your vision. "Huh..?" Your consciousness wavered as you turned your head towards him. The dizziness hit you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed into his arms. For a brief moment, you thought you saw worry flicker across his face. That couldn't be right, Fyodor, worried? It had to be your imagination.

Without a word, he placed the pills into your mouth. Then, to your surprise, he drank water from the glass and passed it to you through a kiss. You were too weak to resist, and before you could process the intimacy of the act, the medicine was already working its way down your throat.

By the next morning, your fever had broken, and you felt noticeably better. You left your room quietly, your curiosity pulling you toward Fyodor's study. He was asleep, his usual composed expression softened in slumber. You hesitated, unsure whether to disturb him, but the stack of papers on his desk caught your attention. Creeping closer, you skimmed the documents. Your breathe hitched. Among the papers were detailed accounts of your father's death, your personal profile and outlines of Fyodor's larger plans.

And then there were the pills, your medicine. The documents revealed that their side effects weren't a natural result of using your ability but something he had engineered.

"Enjoying yourself, curious cat?" The low, mocking voice made your heart stop.

Before you could react, Fyodor was behind you. His hands pinned you to the desk, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"You..." the words caught in your throat. You were powerless, frozen under his control.

He leaned down, his breath warm against your neck as he inhaled deeply. "What a shame, I had hoped you would find those later," he murmured, his voice tinged with disappointment. Without warning, pain seared through you as his teeth sank into your neck. You gasped, the sensation both shocking and terrifying.

"I suppose I'll have to accelerate my plans" He said, pulling back to meet your wide-eyed stare. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him "I've given you everything you wanted, haven't I, Y/n?"

Your gaze dropped to his chest, unwilling to meet his piercing eyes. "Yes.." you whispered.

"Good." His voice softened, almost tender. "Then from today onward, you'll give me what I want."

[thewickedjazzy]

Level 2: Hush [Waxplay] for Kinktober.

♡soft dom! fyodor d. x afab! reader.

♡Synopsis: fedya decides to swap "crime and punishment" for "pleasure and punishment," he really means it, with a paraffin candle on the side.

♡Warning: ņsfw, mdni, smųt, waxplay, oral (cunnilingus), cum play, multiple orgasms..etc.

♡Word Count: 1k.

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

your hands claw at the couch cushion, knuckles turning white as you struggle to swallow your moans, needy lewd sounds slipping from you against your own will, pillowy thighs quivering and closing in around his head, he’s nestled between them, tongue exploring every sweet curve of your sex, slurping up the pleasure that floods from your empty, sweet cunt. your legs instinctively tighten even more as a gentle shudder rolls through you with each luscious motion, leaving you helpless to the way he makes you cum, over and over again.

feeling the pleasure coil through your lower nerve bundles again, a soft, breathy moan slips from your parted, puffy lips only to be swiftly silenced by fyodor's cold hand, pulling back his pink hot muscle from your clenching cunt right before you're about to reach the roller coaster of your orgasm.

“quiet now, lyubov,” he hisses, his fingers softly kneading your left thigh. “we wouldn’t want my men to overhear those sweet sounds.”

you manage a shaky nod, a few stray tears glistening against his palm as you try to obey. his amethyst irises dilate with lust, lips curving in an amused smirk. “good.. because you wouldn't want me to punish you, hmm?”

your head tips back, eyelids fluttering as you let out the smallest, muffled moan against his hand—a sound intended solely to pleasure his ears.

“oh you naughty thing! is that what you want? for me to punish you?” he leisurely pulls his hand away, standing tall between your quivering legs. you gaze up at him, lips trembling and eyes heavy from the unending orgasms. words elude you, trapped in your throat, unable to escape.

“f-edya?” you manage to utter, but it’s a futile effort as he turns to grab a candle resting on his study desk near the couch.

“do you know what this is?” he asks, tilting his head as he watches your eyes widen in apprehension. is he really going to punish you like your mother did when you misbehaved as a child? perhaps that’s why you feel a rush of excitement now—you should be ashamed that such a thing is amusing to you but you're too fucked out to give it a thought.

“a candle?” you breath out, trying to sit up but to no avail, your muscles are way too sore to move an inch.

he chuckles softly, slowly shaking his head, “It’s actually a paraffin low-temperature wax. it melts at a much lower temperature than regular candles, around 125 degrees fahrenheit. ideal for you sensitive skin. in addition to..”

your mind is too hazy to grasp everything he’s saying, but he clearly thinks he knows what he's doing, so you nod along with a blissfully clueless look on your face.

“you really don’t understand a thing, do you?” he muses, a teasing smile blooming on his lips.

“not in the slightest,” you reply, blinking twice as if trying to clear the fog from your hazy mind.

he leans in closer, his lips grazing yours like a feather, and just as you tilt your head to meet his for a kiss, a warm liquid begins to trickle down your collarbone. you gasp softly, feeling the molten wax glide over your skin, it feels unexpectedly gentle and soothing? wrapping you in warmth-a sumptuous sensation you hadn't anticipated. instead of burning, it caresses you, sending ripples of warmth and delight coursing across your body as it pools in the valley between your bare breasts.

“exquisite,” fyodor drawls, pouring more and more of the amber wax all across your collarbones and breasts, soft erotic whimpers feeling the room. once he’s pleased with the little painting he’s splattered across your body like a canvas with burgundy droplets embellishing your skin beautifully, he sits back between your thighs, slowly dripping more onto them.

“nnghh…f-edya…ah–” you gasp, head falling back as he spreads your legs wider. your breathing falters, barely holding back a cry when his lips wrap around your swollen clit, the sensation is way too much forcing more tears to stain your soft cheeks. you watch him make out leisurely with your delicious folds, long slender digits breaching your dripping pussy and curling them enough to tease your nerve bundles.

“oh my, my… you naughty thing,” he coos, fingers still fucking you, pale lips sucking around your clit again harshly. “about to come again?” his chuckle vibrates through your tight walls as they clench around his fingers, dragging a needy, high-pitched whine from you. “you love being my little masterpiece, hmm?”

you can't respond too spent to form coherent words, instead your hips rise to meet fyodor's probing tongue as he delves deeper, spitting between your puffy folds and catching every drop that spills from your drenched core, letting it slide down your lower cheeks and painting your thighs in a glossy sheen as if the molten wax is not adroning them so perfectly already. he can't help but palm his cock from beneath, stroking it in time with the rhythm of your trembling legs as they lock around his neck.

“please, d-don’t stop… ’m—so close, ngh fuhh-mmkk!” you barely register that his hand is muffling your moans, all you care about is the overwhelming pleasure of your impending orgasm as his fingers thrust viciously inside you. your toes curl from the extremity of the full-body orgasm building within you.

he devours you, reveling in the taste of your sweet nectar, slurping up every drop. he rests his head against your lower abdomen, breath coming in heavy gasps. as his hand work faster around his cock before he shoots thick ribbons opaque seed into his palm.

“good luck cleaning me up, because there’s no way i’m moving a muscle,” you try to chuckle, but it came out as a breathy whine.

he chuckles lowly still catching his breath and just as he is about to lean in for a kiss, a loud knock cuts through the room, followed by nikolai's cheerful voice. “fyodor! you in there? sigma doesn't want me to play with his cards ugh!… uh, why does it smell like a candle factory exploded?”

“Iisus khristos! i desperately need a break,” he sighs dramatically before grabbing a nearby towel.

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