#toxic!fyodor x reader

[tojifile]

Hi :)

First of all, your Fyodor pieces are absolutely gorgeous! I really love them, and I could read the over and over again. Secondly, could I please request a Fyodor angst piece for the event? But please don't feel pressured to do it, make sure to drink plenty of water first.

Bye and have a good day/night

Fyodor Dostoevsky: Feed My Ego

“No I don't love you, I just love the things you say..” -Mickey Darling

Genre: Angst // Fyodor x gn!reader

⚠️: toxic!Fyodor, THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP

A/N: Thank you so much for the request :) I think I have 4 more to do and thank you so much for your kind words, I hope that you enjoy this fanfic too !! I've also noticed that people have only been requesting for Fyodor / DOA get well soon readers !!

LINK: Masterlist

It was a cold and rainy afternoon, you were patiently waiting at a bus stop, shivering and a bit wet from the harsh winds. Earlier today your boyfriend—Fyodor Dostoyevsky, promised that he would pick you up but you've waited at the bus stop for an hour and he never arrived.

You stared at your phone screen shining blue and green wondering what happened, what would his excuse be this time. You left him numerous text messages over the past hour yet he never replied, you were just left on 'delivered' it was like he didn't care.

As if things weren't already tough enough you couldn't even get a cab. You then stood up and decided to just walk to his office by yourself, crying quietly as you walked through the wet streets of Yokohama.

After a while you reached his office, you gently knocked on his door "It's me.." you softly spoke. "Come in." He spoke in a monotonous tone. You opened the door, your clothes and hair were soaking wet and you were shivering.

"What happened to you?" He said nonchalantly, not even looking up from the scattered piles of files on his desk. You closed the door behind you and looked at him, "You forgot to pick me up.." you replied with a shaky tone as you continued to shiver.

"You should've gotten a cab then." He retorted, still not sparing you a single glance, "Seriously?!" You exclaimed angrily while Fyodor still looked calm and didn't seem to care. "That's all you can say?! After you didn't keep your promise?? After you let me down for the nth time?!!" You added. You were now standing in front of his desk, angrily slamming your hands down as you looked at him angrily.

"Are you done with your childish tantrum?" He finally spoke, he didn't even look at you as you expressed your anger and hurt. You looked at him with a shocked expression, you didn't even seem to faze him at all. Did he really not care?

"I thought you loved me.." you mumbled as you looked at the floor with a frown, feeling defeated by the one person who you thought wouldn't make you feel so small.

Fyodor stood up and got in front of you, he gently held your chin with his fingers so that you would meet his gaze, "Love you? How foolish." He spoke with a smug look on his face, "No, I don't love you darling, I just love the things you say." He added, you were simply someone who would feed his ego—a toy perhaps, nothing more, nothing less.

Spontaneous post: 07/06/23 15:08PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

[wasteofbandagesxx]

I trusted you

{Nikolai x reader}

Content: abuse, toxic, murder, toxic love, unhealthy relationship

There were no genuine feelings when it came to the relationship. It was nothing. There wasn't love or affection, just two people there are colleagues that work with Fyodor himself. There was no love anymore like there used to be. Nikolai honestly despised you because of how "soft" you gotten and how "boring" you've become. He was only in for the thrill, and you were lacking all the qualities to his ideal lover. Normally, he'd kill if he had an obsession with someone, but he also murders them when he gets tired of that person. You were no longer a thrill for his entertainment.

Who knew your time would end up so soon?

"Dove, come here real quick. Dostoevsky gave us a new assignment that involves blowing up a building and killing more government officials. Isn't it exciting?"

You walked over to him, the tapping of your feet was heard on the marble floor as you make your way over to white haired clown. It was too quiet, the silence was irritating Nikolai while you were unbothered. You peeked at the paper to see a bunch of missions that were listed on it. Nothing too chaotic since Nikolai will be doing all the work. "It's alright I guess. Though I hate getting my hands dirty so I'll leave the rest to you." Your boring reply left Nikolai in disgust. He missed the times that you would engage violence with him, oh how much he's missed the good old days. Ever since you've gotten closer to Fyodor and did some other stuff it changed your personality completely. He couldn't stand it, you were not his Dove, you were just an old doll ready to be thrown away.

"Oh Dove, what happened to you?..." He whispered under his breath.

The whole reason why you've changed is because Fyodor was always using you. You were the demons most useful pawn and he intended on taking advantage of that. The tasks would be too extreme and while Nikolai was gone there would always be constant arguing and abuse towards another. You would receive slap after slap, a kick from an underling, and poisoned to make your body stiff in suspended animation before getting locked up. In the beginning, Nikolai would care about how you were being treated but then he randomly didn't care. He soon realized you were weak.

You have been sick for some time and your mental health isn't the best due to family issues and your job as a terrorist. You just weren't loving how your life style has become and thought it was a good idea to turn your life around. You couldn't leave or else you would die, so you just did simple basic tasks instead. Back then you would always go on a murder spree with your lover. As you got sick, you realized there wasn't much things you could do anymore. You highly doubted that you were going to live for a long time, you were almost as weak as Fyodor but you tried to hide it.

Nikolai soon found out about your sickness and couldn't help but insult you of how weak you are now. You were hoping he would understand, but he could care less. You still put faith in Nikolai to understand your pain and condition, but it seemed you trusted him too much.

"Dove, your really pissing me off. You have been for a while." Nikolai said coldly, his eyes burning into yours. A small shiver ran down your spine but you quickly avoided his icy stare. "It's not my fault things turned out this way. Enough talking and let's get going, I have plans after this." "Oh, do you now?"

The Jester rolled eyes and puts the paper down. "Yes, now let's go." You make your way over to the door but as you turned the handle, the door wouldn't open.

Something was wrong.

"Oh Dove, if only you could've stayed the same."

Slit!!

You felt pain all of a sudden. Slowly looking down, only to see a shiny silver object with Crimson blood pouring out of your body like a fountain. You couldn't believe your eyes, you were stabbed. The knife twists and turns to make even a bigger mess, more blood was spilling out of you and you couldn't hold back your screams.

"I usually harm those who make me obsessed with them but I was going to make you an exception. Thinking, maybe we could live and be free together. Now I see you as a big joke, I loved you so, but being with you makes me feel even more trapped. I can't have that, your not worth losing my mind over anymore."

The knife was roughly pulled out before a big amount of blood was shot out of your mouth. You fell down on your own, the crimson puddle was spreading rather quickly as it was spilling out of your stomach and your mouth. You were at a loss of words, your vision blurs due to the lack of blood and the tears that were forming in your eyes. Your tried crawling to him with little effort while Nikolai stared down at you with a look full of guilt, but mostly no sympathy. He was conflicted, but his mind was already made up the moment he stabbed you, he couldn't go back. He pushed down the feeling of guilt and smiled at you.

"What did you expect? You should've left me when you had the chance! Don't cry now darling, you'll eventually pass away and won't have to worry or feel anything!"

He giggled to himself as he watches you slowly become lifeless. You didn't want to die here, not now. With little strength you had, you pulled out your that you keep on your belt and shot Nikolai in the stomach, aiming at his vitals.

Nikolai couldn't believe what just happened. He looked down to see four bullet wounds before falling down in front of you, he coughs up blood, all the while you felt like screaming and crying. You could cry, but you didn't have the energy to scream when you were on the verge of death and choking on blood. "I wanted to plan something special for us...I tried to change...I tried going back to the person that I once was....I tried....and I wanted to prove you that today, on our 2nd anniversary..." You choked out, the clown was shocked by your words, it was nothing that he was expecting. He thought the words that would come out of your mouth would be "Fuck you!" Or "I hate you!" but no. It was something that would made him regret his actions.

He laid there conflicted, he completely gave up on everything. He just wished he could've been better and understand what you were going through better instead of being full of himself. He wished he could've been a better lover. He looked at you with tears in his eyes and a small smile, his eyes half lidded as he was about to make his way into the afterlife with you. "I guess I messed up, silly me." He said with a small chuckle. You glared at him and said your last words before your vision blacks out.

"I trusted you."

[yandollies]

A list of works in progress // upcoming works and ideas I have for things to write eventually <3 This is more for personal use to remind myself, but I decided to let you guys see it too ^^

NAAJI 'S PERSONAL NOTEBOOK

UPCOMING WORKS → Ftm Nakahara Chuuya x Ftm reader

IDEAS → Kaedehara Kazuha x Yandere reader (but Kazuha is low-key into it) Probably gn reader

15 ! Skk x Male reader (hcs ? Sfw + Nsfw, reader is also 15)

Toxic religious yaoi :3 (Fyodor x Male reader..,., Sex in a church maybe.....)

SA comfort with Kazuha x Male (ftm) reader (self indulgent)

SH comfort with ??? x GN reader (self indulgent again but idk who to write this with... Feel free to leave ideas on who I should do <33)

Heizou x Harbinger reader (Nsfw + general hcs)

Kaeya x Archon reader (ANGST !!1!1!1!1!1 And maybe sex I guess ..)

Something inspired by the song "Serve Me" by Unto Ashes (idk what exactly yet)

(I don't take requests so as to not stress myself out as someone who has school and work outside of this HOWEVER you are free to leave ideas or concepts and I might write about it if it seems interesting <3 I would actually appreciate it if you did! I don't wanna run out of ideas.... There is a chance I won't write them though, so keep that in mind.)

[tartstealingknave]

I've finally grew some brains and I have decided to say it.

TOXIC YURI IS NOT ROMANTIC OR FUNNY.

It's literally like jinx. Toxic yuri sometimes has abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, manipulation, and a lot more. It has a bunch of things that aren't like other yuri. Who even made toxic yuri? It's not even a good genre. Like people see girls fighting and say "toxic yuri!!!" Bitch no their fighting because they were talking about their personal things??? Not everything is lgbtq+ or yuri related. Yaoi is ALWAYS spoken. But what about yuri? It's less spoken. That's why. Choking people ISN'T good. It is NOT kink. Remember guys. This would NOT feel amazing in real life. Stop romanticizing about people choking you while fucking you. You could actually die if they didn't loosen up. I'm saying this for your own good. You guys know jinx right? And yet people who hate jinx support toxic yuri. It's literally the same?? It's like toxic yaoi. Please get some help if you actually support these things. Toxic yuri is the WORST. You do not WANT it. You just like SEEING it mentioned. You are in need of fucking therapy. I know I'm mentally unstable but I am not mentally unstable to the point of loving these kind of stupid stuff. Sure. Hate me. Fight me. Argue with me in the comments. You Won't fucking change my MIND. That it isn't bad.

Let's make this message spread with like minded individuals with the tag : #TOXIC YURI IS NOT ROMANTIC.

[osachiyo]

❏ SEETHING ENVY !

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, kunikida, ranpo, fyodor & nikolai x fem! reader

﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : nsfw content, jealousy, threats of cheating, toxic relationship in nikolai's, pussy slapping, choking, scratching, name calling, degradation, msub in Dazai’s, yandere reader in Nikolai's, edging, toys, oral (m & f receiving), brief mention of murder and torture but it's very vague, throat fucking etc

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : jealousy jealousy

﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : I know the sneak peak of this post had a different title but I think this one suits it way more. Happy reading! Requests are open btw! ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── MINORS DNI

DAZAI ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Dazai loves to see all of your reactions. He finds them so amusing. Your eyes shining bright like stars when you're happy, when you're practically jumping with excitement, your cheeks heating up when you're flustered, your pretty eyes narrowing and brows furrowing when you're angry or upset, your eyes glossing over as they threaten to overspill the tears when you're sad...He loves to see them all. So that's why he comes up with the idea to make you jealous. I mean, what could go wrong?

You watch your lover’s eyes roll back from overstimulation, his cock swollen and angry from being used so many times. But you didn’t care, just like he didn’t care about how pissed you’d be while flirting with that waitress from the cafe. God, was it infuriating. But it’s alright, you would never miss a chance to mark your man up nicely, your nails clawing on his back while he hissed from the sting. But he didn’t complain, he actually enjoyed the pain of you marking your ownership over him.

“You fucking manwhore, how many times did you cum?” You scoffed, your hips not slowing down. You slapped his cheek gently when he didn’t answer, the soft flesh damp with sweat and your slick. He opened his eyes, looking up at you riding the soul out of him, your soft tits bouncing with every slam, your plump ass meeting his hips while he massaged the soft fat. “Fuck- uh.. four?—“ he wheezed when your hands wrapped around his throat even tighter, making it hard for him to breathe. “Wrong answer… let’s keep going until you get it right- Haah— okay?” He could only throw his head back in response, shooting blanks into your puffy cunt.

He had a long night ahead of him.

CHUUYA ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Chuuya was a very confident man. He was confident in himself and your relationship. But that stupid fuck Dazai—

“Hey~ Belladonna, are you here alone?” Dazai smirked, taking your hand in his larger one before gently kissing your palm. “You look like you could use some company, no?” He was about to kiss your knuckles but suddenly— “She’s fine.” Your hand gets snatched away by your boyfriend, Chuuya. Dazai shows a face of disgust before sighing in disappointment. “Yeah okay, whatever. If you need some better company, don’t be shy to ask Chuuya for my number, pretty gi—!” A punch was thrown at his face.

“Stupid fucking suicidal piece of shit..” Chuuya mumbled, head squashed between your thighs which were decorated with bruises. Shades of purple and blue staining your pretty skin as he sucked on it, dangerously close to your core. His hand smoothed out the fabric of your expensive dress. When you agreed to go to a bar with your fiancé, you didn’t expect to be eaten out by him in one of the fancy bathroom stalls. Your hands were struggling to find something to stabilize yourself. “Chuuya..what if someone— mm..what if someone comes in..?” He only groaned in response, finally taking you into his warm mouth while his hands played with the soft fat of your ass. “Let them.” He muttered into your pussy, the vibrations of his gruff voice made your toes curl as your hand came down to find itself tangled in his copper locks. As if the universe had heard you, someone walks in. You put your other hand over your mouth, trying your best to silence any noises that could slip out. Then suddenly— the unknown man spoke and you recognized that voice easily. It was Dazai.

Chuuya only pulled away and smirked, before diving in with ten times more effort. He had to prove to Dazai that only he could pleasure you like this and you were his.

KUNIKIDA ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Kunikida, bless this man's heart, was the best husband you could ask for. He had it all, looks, stable income, intelligence and he was sweet. You loved how nice he was to you, always making sure you're comfortable and happy. He was the ideal man of your dreams. But as much as you loved him being sweet and kind to you...you wanted something more. You wanted to get on his nerves, wanted to be manhandled by him. So what better way to do that than to make him jealous?

"Stay fucking still." Your husband growled, frantically unbuckling his belt while he held you down with one hand. Once he finally got the belt off, he tied it around your wrists, the expensive leather burning against your soft skin. "You wanna act like a brat? You're gonna get fucked like one." He spit, flipping you over so you laid on your stomach. "Count." That was the last thing you heard until— 'smack!' His calloused hand came down harshly on your ass, making you jolt from the impact. "O-one!" You hissed, your grip tightening on his silk sheets. There was a long pause before the next hit, which was absolutely brutal. The pain shoots through your entire body like electricity while all you can do is writhe and bawl your eyes out, " two- fuuck- 'm sorry! Please! Kuni—" He only scoffed, his fingers dip into your soaked folds and he raises an eyebrow, "You act like you hate it, but your cunt is practically gushing." He tsks, spreading your lips and this time landing a hit on your puffy 'n swollen clit. "Clearly you haven't learnt your lesson if you're still leaking like a desperate whore."

RANPO ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Ranpo's and your's relationship was interesting, to say the least. You two always bickered playfully, sometimes even pranking each other. One time he even put some neon pink dye in your shampoo. But besides that, you wanted revenge. And what better way to get revenge than flirting with his own rival?

You could almost taste your sweet orgasm coming, ready to push you towards the edge but then— Ranpo turns the vibrator off with a laugh, clearly satisfied to see your misery. "How's that, sweetheart?" He smirked, wiping your tears off with his thumbs. You could only babble in response, too fucked out to think any coherent thought but the need to cum.

Ranpo smiles mischeviously, pushing your thighs apart to make room for himself. He licked his lips at the sight of your drooling pussy. A finger pressed the vibrator against your clit and your head tipped back on the pillow. "Thank you for the meal~" He sung before diving head first into your cunt, the vibrator working it's magic against your clit.

FYODOR ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Why were you doing this again? Oh yeah, because that stupid Kolya told you to. You were just hoping and praying to the heavens above that you wouldn't be dead after this. It's a stupid idea but the prize was well worth the pain. All you had to do is flirt with Nikolai and Sigma for one whole day. Surely he wouldn't...mind that much, would he?

Wrong, is what you thought to yourself while you processed the entire situation. You were tied with deep purple ribbons, restricting you against the headboard of the bed. A ring gag in your pretty mouth, a collar around your throat and lastly, a blindfold over your beautiful eyes. You could only hear his footsteps, circling around you like he's the predator and you're his prey.

"So, Milaya, what were you thinking pressing your tits against Sigma like a slut?" His footsteps stopped, it was eerily quiet in the room after Fyodor had stopped speaking. "I did not know that I chose a stupid slut off the streets who will seduce anyone as my wife," he tsked. You felt the bed dip and creak, then a large bony hand was splayed across your bare thigh. "You are one lucky woman that I am not abandoning you. Clearly you don't know who your master, who your God is." He plunged two fingers in your mouth, watching you gag and sputter around them. His other hand was now wrapped around your delicate throat, giving it an experimental squeeze. He thrusted his fingers in and out of your mouth while choking you. You suddenly felt the smooth material of his slacks grinding against your bare cunt, soaking the fabric with your sweet slick.

If only you could see the almost maniacal smile he wore while doing so.

NIKOLAI ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Fucked up, that's what your relationship with Nikolai was. But you didn't care. You loved him and he loved you. All you thought about was him and only him, never even speaking to another man unless you had to. But did he do the same? No he didn't. He'd purposefully flirt and let other women cling onto him like a damn leech, not because he enjoys their attention, no, he did it to rile you up. Watching as you threaten the women viciously, your tone dangerously low as you speak to them. It gets the adrenaline rushing through his veins when you brutally torture and murder these women who he had approached first.

Your face was stained with blood and Nikolai's precum as he tapped the head of his heavy cock against your cheek, montioning for you to open up. You obeyed like the good little girlfriend you were, tongue hanging out and all as you accepted his throbbing cock into your warm mouth, gagging slightly as it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered, grinning down at you, his gloved hand holding your hair up in a makeshift ponytail while you tried your best not to let your eyes roll back. It wasn't even all the way in yet. "Oh just look at you~ struggling to take my cock, dove? Should I get a new bitch, then? I bet she could take my cock f—" His breath hitched and hips stuttered when you suddenly look him all the way down to the base, throat contracting around him. "There we go... I knew you had it in you, pretty thing." Tears were flowing down your cheeks at this point, it fucking hurt. Nikolai let go of your hair and gripped the back of your head instead, slowly pulling you off of his cock until only the tip was inside then slamming back in with full force.

You definitely needed some medicine after.

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

[your-fave-jewish-magical-girl]

Why the fuck did I post this? Why did I think either of these things???? Stop reblogging this shot I don’t simp for Fitzgerald anymore

Francis from BSD is so hot, I wish billionaires were real 🥺

[diagonal-queen]

Uuuuuuh, an idea has just arrive on my mind🤭 you know that boys usually tease girls they like right? I’m really curious how Tachihara and tecchou would do it… (I’m really curious for tecchou😭)

Teasing their crush

♡ pairing: Tecchou Suehiro, Tachihara Michizou, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoyevsky x fem!Reader

♡ synopsis: How do these boys tease the girl that they like (that's you!)?

♡ cw: Swearing, Jouno suffers a lot, Fyodor is toxic as always, mention of suicide, I somehow manage to bring Astarion up here?? (sorry)

note: i know i know. it's been a while, and i apologise. i just have been so so busy. right now i'm in an exhausted trance writing this and i'm certain i'll wake up tomorrow with no recollection of writing it at all. also threw in dazai and fyodor for the sillies i hope you don't miiind~ as always apologies for errors and i hope you enjoy x

Tecchou:

I cannot see him teasing you.

I'm sorry anon but I just can't see him teasing a girl he likes. He would either be generally nice to her, super awkward but still okay, or just come off as cold and aloof. He wouldn't go out of his way to tease a girl or exchange playful banter with her

If he ever tried to tease he would probably just straight up be mean and insult you or something. And then he wouldn't understand why it didn't work

(Jouno is smacking his head against the wall)

Don't worry. If he's gonna cope with his feelings for you he's gonna do it in a way that benefits you i.e. he's just going to be super obvious about it and not even try to hide it

(update: Jouno is still smacking his head against the wall. someone help him)

Like he'll just openly buy you food and presents and tell you he likes you and like hold your hand and shit?? Tecchou is no-nonsense. He wants to date you, he'll let you know.

And it's not like Tecchou's trying any 'techniques' or anything like that. There is not a THOUGHT behind those beautiful eyes; he's just following his heart <3

Tecchou might be a bit dense when it comes to such socially complicated things as courting, but he's a genuine person and wants to make you feel appreciated, and let you know he loves you. He just does it in the only ways he knows how <3

Tachihara:

The opposite of Tecchou

He's such a teaser. He likes to make jokes with and poke fun at his love interests, but sometimes might go a bit too far with it (If he does he genuinely feels super bad and apologises dw T-T)

Like he's one of those kinds of guys who you would get so caught up in the flirty banter with that you just talk for hours

If you're texting you guys are both kicking your legs and squealing in between texts lowkey, like you're secretly such lovesick dorks but you play it so cool

Some kaguya sama love is war type shit you guys have going on

And god forbid you do this in front of other people. They're probably SO uncomfortable. Like oh my god get a room already (this dot point was ghostwritten by Jouno)

As you two get more and more into it, he becomes less tease-flirty and more sweet-flirty. He genuinely compliments you instead of exchanging little jabs and backhanded teases, and it's so CUTE

He also, for some reason, gets more shy instead of less shy. He blushes, he messes with his hair- AUGH he's so cute

In all honesty no matter what way, shape or form Tachihara flirts with you, even if he's awkward and fumbles each time, he's still such a charmer that you can't help but love him anyway. some messy hair and a sweet boyish grin goes a LONG way!

Dazai:

This is what I like to call Egotistical Flirting

He will tease you by telling you how much you love him, how much other women love him, how wonderful of a guy he is and how great of a deal he's constantly offering you. Yes, the 'deal' in question is dinner and a movie double suicide

And of course you roll your eyes and chuckle, and while he pretends that he's all offended that you aren't openly falling for it, he LOVES that. He loves your affectionate sarcasm and he could milk it out of you for days if he had the time

And he doesn't even wait to even learn your name before he immediately goes full on womaniser. He would just approach you like 'Heyyy~' and it's all downhill from there.

Dazai is a man on a MISSION is what I'm saying

He will also tease you by embarrassing you. He just says the most oUT OF POCKET stuff out of nowhere in public?? He absolutely delights in seeing you get all embarrassed and having you swat at him and scold him

(He's a bit of a masochist don't question it)

Naturally, this is generally a facade to hide the fact that he is hopelessly infatuated with you, and kinda scared of commitment. He hopes you'll accept him as he is but just in case... it's easier to put up a nonchalant front.

Don't worry Dazai. you've got nothing to worry about. :)

Fyodor:

Mind games. Mind games. MIND GAMES

And not the good kind!

He will tease you with this neat little trick he uses called psychological warfare. In his experience it's 100% effective

Fyodor is a toxic little shit. He doesn't often really 'tease' so much as 'neg'. He doesn't quite care too much about your esteem as long as he's able to make you like him back.

You guys know this thing called Ascended Astarion? yeah this is basically just that but ✨ Russian ✨

All this being said he actually does feel affection and love towards you, and he DOES care. He just doesn't want you to reject him, so he'll use any trick necessary to prevent that (regardless of general ethics for the most part)

Fyodor is an all rounder. He'll tease, show genuine affection, neg, flirt, stalk, lovebomb...the whole shebang (I'm sure he asked Nikolai for tips, and I'm even more sure Nikolai had MANY)

Fyodor is just so emotionally out of touch when it comes to other people that he genuinely has no idea how to just...flirt, or even really be casual, like a normal person. It would be sad if he wasn't such a motherfucker

Honestly all of you 'I could fix him' girlies would fall hook line and sinker for this (and I'm allowed to say that because I am one of you)

In the end...man, just date Tachihara

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen, @call-me-albie

[thewickedjazzy]

Quick summary & titles :-

"Something on your mind, Nakahara" : Technically, it's more of an enemies-to-lovers trope, but with extra spicy layers. (slightly angst + nsfw ) ( PUBLISHED NOW )

I Wanna Hold You Just For Tonight : Beastzai is highly toxic towards his "puppet" (reader), and unexpectedly, the reader begins to develop feelings for Chuuya. ( def angst + slightly fluff? ) ( PUBLISHED NOW )

‟ Stay with me, milaya”: Fyodor searches for his soulmate across countless lifetimes, witnessing her die in his arms again and again. Yet, fate continuously brings them back together with each of her rebirths. The reader, however, suffers from derealization and depersonalization. ( angst to fluff ) ( PUBLISHED NOW )

[probablysimpledreams]

Scary? My God You're Divine

(Fyodor x reader: NSFW)

a/n: omg Fyodor has been taking up too much space in my brain lately so I finally had to write for him <3 he's so pretty but in like a way pls hurt me way LOL

cw: toxic relationship dynamic (it's Fyo idk what yall expected lol), afab reader but otherwise gender neutral, lingerie, uhhh smut, oh mix of degrading and praise from Fyo, refers to reader as "milaya" for petname (I've seen multiple translations as darling, cute/cutie, & sweetheart)

wc: 1k

You hum happily as you spin around the dressing room, loving the way the expensive clothing fit your frame. It had been ages since your last shopping trip, and honestly you couldn't remember the last time you left your house. Ever since you and Fyodor had become serious, you have been living in the private manor he had built to suit your needs. Sometimes he would visit for a while, but often times he had other business to attend to. Despite not always being around, Fyodor always ensured your needs, wants, and safety were granted. The manor was filled with everything you asked for from private chefs who cooked whatever you wished, as many pets as you wanted to keep you company, and everything else you asked for. Not many people can understand your lifestyle, viewing your off grid manor as a cage, but this didn't matter to you. You were happy and in love and that's all that mattered to you.

A soft smile on your face as you imagine the sweet words your boyfriend will utter to you later tonight when you both are home and you get to show him everything from your shopping trip. Fyodor had been away on an extra long "work trip" these past few months, and you have been anxiously been awaiting his return. The excitement you felt this morning waking up to a letter detailing his return later tonight alongside a large sum of cash to spend before his return home continued to run through your veins as you tried on more clothes. You grab all the pieces that frame your figure perfectly, happily walking to the cashier before handing the bags over to the body guards accompanying you.

After hours of walking around the upscale mall, you were ready to head back home. You begin calling for one of the body guards to pull the car around until a certain store's display catches your eye. A wide smirk paints your face as your eyes scan over the angelic lingerie set the mannequin was dressed in, calling for the bodyguards to wait a little longer before leaving.

///////////////////////

"You look beautiful milaya," your boyfriend offers a small smile with his praise as you twirl around the bedroom in your new outfits. Though he did not like when you left the security of his control by going out in public, his love for your little "fashion shows" after a day out shopping was much stronger. These moments belonged to only him, you belonged to only him. He hummed thinking about that fact as you raced off to grab your next outfit, your eyes sparkling as you ramble on about a movie you had recently watched. His eyes watched your every movement, eyebrow raised as you grab a bag and head off into the bathroom. "Where are you going off to?"

"This outfit is a surprise baby! You'll see in a moment," you call out from behind the closed door. He chuckled at your actions, attention returning to his laptop as he waits for your return.

His eyes widen as you reenter the bedroom, posing in your white lacey lingerie set. You climb onto the bed, closing his laptop and placing it on the nightstand before sitting on his lap.

"Surprise!" you chuckle, already feeling aroused watching his purple eyes scan your body. His hands grip your waist, fingers toying with the lacey strings of the lingerie set.

"My my, I don't recall instructing you to buy something like this in my note, milaya," he hums, hands trailing up and down your sides.

"That's the point of a surprise," you smile innocently. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your face closer to his to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

"Whatever am I going to do with you," he sighs, hands returning to their tight grip on your waist. He pulls you in for a deeper, more passionate kiss. You whine against his lips, trying desperately to break free of his grasp and grind against him. "Patience darling."

"Fyo pleaseeee," you whine. "I've been patient for months!! I've missed you!! I need you!!" You exactly what he wanted to hear, how to get exactly what you wanted. You prided yourself on being Fyodor's one weakness in this world.

"Mmm," he happily hums, mentally noting how you said all the right answers. He loved playing these games with you, and he especially loved how you always were able to keep up with him. You were his precious darling, his angel. "I'm not fully convinced," he teased, evil smirk growing across his face. Anyone else would be attempting to run away from him after seeing this expression, however you only became more turned on. He took quick note of this too. "Look at you ______," one of his hands left your waist and traveled down to your clothed core. You gasp as he pushes the lace away from your skin, fingers running up and down your wet folds. "Making a mess of my lovely surprise. That needy? How pathetic." You cry out as his fingers begin rubbing circles against your clit.

"F-Fyodor!" you throw your head back, crying out his name. Your legs begin to shake as his movements grow faster, pushing you to your climax. "Fyo-Fyo I-I'm gonna," you cry and squirm as he kisses up and down your neck.

"Cum for me _______," he hums as you cry out his name again and again as you ride out your high. Your body shakes as you try to catch your breathe. It had been months since you've felt this good, your own fingers and toys not comparing in the slightest to what Fyodor can do. However, you don't get much time to recover before you're thrown onto your back, Fyodor now hovering you. "We're only beginning," that evil grin returning to his face before he kisses your cheek softly. "This is what you wanted, right milaya? You've been so good, let me indulge you tonight."

[vanilladove]

【ｖａｎｉ＇ｓ　ｓｐｏｏｋｔｏｂｅｒ　２０２４ 】

♱ — collection of spooky + dark fics to celebrate the season! (n)sfw works ahead. read cw + descriptions first and proceed with caution! also first multifandom hehe (bsd, hxh, jjk) may add/remove/edit fics as time passes!

t͓̽e͓̽a͓̽s͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ .ᐟ

♱ — perv!ghost!nikolai gogol x fem!reader

cw: nsfw 18+ only, shameless smut, size kink, alcohol + drug use, lowk dubcon

b͓̽u͓̽n͓̽g͓̽o͓̽ ͓̽s͓̽t͓̽r͓̽a͓̽y͓̽ ͓̽d͓̽o͓̽g͓̽s͓̽ .ᐟ

♱ — dollhouse: yandere!ayatsuji yukito x fem!reader

cw: kidnapping, dollification, stockholm syndrome

♱ — house of balloons: ex!nakahara chuuya x gn!reader

cw: toxic/crazy ex, degrading, unhealthy relationships

♱ — haunted: demon!fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader

cw: nsfw 18+, virginity loss, implied age gap, demon marking, dubcon, supernatural, blood kink, corruption kink

h͓̽u͓̽n͓̽t͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ ͓̽x͓̽ ͓̽h͓̽u͓̽n͓̽t͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ .ᐟ

♱ — drunk in love: illumi zoldyck x fem!reader

cw: nsfw 18+, drugged sex (consensual), overstimulation, light bdsm

j͓̽u͓̽j͓̽u͓̽t͓̽s͓̽u͓̽ ͓̽k͓̽a͓̽i͓̽s͓̽e͓̽n͓̽ .ᐟ

♱ — (s)cream: toji x fem!reader

cw: nsfw 18+, age gap, size kink, daddy kink, blackmail

t͓̽r͓̽e͓̽a͓̽t͓̽ .ᐟ

♱ — hide + seek: asylum patient!nikolai gogol x asylum attendant!fem!reader

cw: manipulation/mind games, infidelity

[cruel-seduction]

Bungou Stray Dogs

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Heyy! I hope this isn't a bother, but I'm absolutely craving some Fyodor x Reader! Sooo, imagine this—Fyodor was your husband in a past life, and now he finds you again in Yokohama, working for either the ADA or PM. Obviously, he can't just let his *wife* be with someone else, right? I’d love to see more of that whole 'immortal x mortal' vibe, ahh! And to keep it true to his character, he calls Reader 'Anna' even though they have a new name now. Hope you have a great day/night! 😊

(headcanon, fic, lines, wtv u prefer! I'm just craving for Fyodor ‼️🙏🏻)

Sorry, it took long. But I had test this whole month and I still have to give a test saturday. But I wrote what came in my mind.

The Ghost of His Heart

Content Warnings:

Summary:

In a world where fate binds souls across lifetimes, Fyodor Dostoevsky finds the one he’s been waiting for—his wife from a past life, reborn and unaware of their shared history. Consumed by an eternal love, he is determined to remind her of the connection they once had, while she struggles to reconcile her current reality with the strange pull she feels toward him. As their paths intertwine, emotions run high, and the lines between devotion and destiny blur.

Themes of obsession and possessiveness

Past life/reincarnation dynamics

Emotional intensity and angst

Mild cursing

Subtle manipulation (non-toxic but deeply intense interactions)

GLIMPSE - “Are you crazy?” you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

His gaze softened further, and for the first time, there was no trace of his usual composure. He looked at you with a vulnerability so raw it made your chest ache.

“For you? Yes,” he said simply. “A thousand times yes.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The air in Yokohama was heavy with a tension that couldn’t quite be named. It wasn’t the usual weight of humidity, nor the pulse of city traffic. No, this was something different—something darker that seemed to thicken the very air the moment you stepped into the room.

Anna.

The name, like a whisper in his mind, cut through the veil of time with the precision of a blade. Even in this new life, with all its contradictions and chaotic intricacies, Fyodor Dostoevsky couldn’t forget you. His wife, his beloved Anna, whom he had lost so many lifetimes ago—yet here you were, returned.

Not as you once were, but as you now were. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t even know him.

He watched you, hidden in the shadows of the ADA headquarters, his obsidian eyes following your every movement. You were here now, part of the Agency, fighting against the very forces he was using to manipulate this world. To control it. You didn’t recognize the mark of your shared past, but he could feel the connection. It burned like a flame beneath his chest, an ache he could never escape.

Anna, though—you didn’t even acknowledge him.

You walked past him without a second glance, busy with your tasks. Your eyes were clear and focused, the same spark of determination he remembered, yet they weren’t directed at him. They were for others, for missions, for this life you were creating, one without him.

It was an ironic, cruel fate: to love someone so deeply and to be utterly forgotten.

He knew why you couldn’t remember. The human mind, fragile as it was, could not withstand the weight of eternity. You had moved on. You had lived without him for however many years it had been since your last meeting in another life. And he had been patient, waiting. It was a sickness in his heart, a poison that burned through his veins every day he was away from you.

But now, with a single glance, you had returned to him. He had only to reach out, to remind you of everything you once were. But that was where the dilemma lay.

If he reminded you, you would resist. Your heart would rebel against the truth he would show you. But that was not the most painful part. No, the most painful part was this: you didn’t want him. You weren’t looking for him. Your heart beat for the tasks before you, for your duty to the Agency, to the people you fought beside. And worse—there were others who saw you, others who thought you belonged to them.

He couldn’t allow that.

You brushed past him once more, and this time, your shoulder brushed against his.

A fleeting, soft contact. He didn’t even need to touch you to feel the surge of energy between you. The electric charge that snapped through his body, a violent, desperate pulse of recognition. His heart tightened painfully in his chest.

And yet, you didn’t pause. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even look up from the stack of papers in your hands, the files you were carrying.

Fyodor inhaled deeply, his expression cold, unreadable. His mind worked furiously, plotting his next move. His next step.

His hand clenched into a fist.

Later that evening, he appeared in the shadows outside your apartment. He was not supposed to be there, not in this life, not in this world where he had to hide his true self beneath layers of deception. But tonight, the need to be close to you was overpowering.

You were in your apartment, oblivious to his presence. You had closed the blinds, preparing for an evening of rest after the chaotic day at the Agency.

But he couldn’t allow you to rest. He couldn’t let you forget.

A soft tap at the door. Just enough to catch your attention, yet gentle enough to be mistaken for the wind. He knew you would come. You always did, no matter how much you resisted, no matter how much you ignored him.

The door creaked open, and there you stood—wearing the soft, loose-fitting clothes you often wore when you thought no one was watching. Your hair was slightly disheveled from the long day. You looked tired. Tired, yet still as breathtaking as ever. The kind of beauty that made him ache.

Your eyes were wary when they met his, cautious. “Can I help you?” you asked, your voice gentle but firm. The same tone you used with the others at the Agency.

His breath caught in his throat. His gaze locked onto yours, and he allowed the silence to stretch between you. He could see the flicker of recognition behind your eyes—only a moment, but it was enough.

“Anna,” he said, his voice low, coated in that familiar, almost musical cadence.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your gaze narrowing. “I don’t know you. You must be mistaken. I am not Anna. So, why don’t you let it go, sir?” You laughed at your own poor joke. 

Fyodor’s lips curled into a thin smile. The mask of calm, collected indifference he wore was in place. But beneath it, something darker simmered. His eyes darkened with a possessive fire.

“I am not mistaken, Anna,” he replied softly. “You may not remember me, but I remember you. I always have.”

His words hung in the air like a noose, tightening slowly around you. You didn’t know what to make of him, this man who claimed to know you so intimately, yet his presence unnerved you. There was something too intense about the way he looked at you, as though he could see through your very soul.

He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. “You are my Anna,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an almost unbearable weight. “And I am your Fyodor.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a strange shiver running down your spine. It wasn’t fear—not exactly—but something dark and intense. You took a step back instinctively, not understanding why his presence made your pulse quicken in such an unfamiliar way.

“I don’t know who you think I am,” you said, your voice slightly shaking. “But I’m not... whoever you’re looking for. N O A N N A, sir. My name is Y/N.”

Fyodor tilted his head, his expression one of eerie patience. “No, you are. You are Anna. And no one can take you from me.”

And with that, he stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as he closed the door behind him, trapping you in the silence of the room. There was nowhere to run now. He knew that—he wanted you to know there was nowhere to go.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you backed away, your eyes widening as you searched his face for any sign of a lie, any hint of his true intentions.

But there was none. Only the cold, implacable certainty of a man who had lived far too long, who had waited far too long, to let you slip away again.

The door clicked softly as it shut behind him, sealing you in the room with a man whose presence seemed to fill every corner, every breath of air. Your pulse quickened, and though you kept your composure, you could feel your resolve wavering under the weight of his gaze.

He stood perfectly still, his tall frame casting an elongated shadow in the dim light of your apartment. The faintest smile played on his lips—not smug, not cruel, but knowing.

“Do not be afraid,” he said softly, his voice like a lullaby laced with moonlight. “I would never harm you.”

“I’m not afraid,” you replied, lifting your chin in defiance, crossing your arms over your chest. “But you need to leave. I don’t know you.”

Fyodor’s eyes flickered with something indescribable, a storm that passed too quickly to be named. He exhaled slowly, his head tilting as if considering your words carefully, as though you’d just told him something patently untrue.

“You may not know me now,” he said, taking a deliberate step forward, “but your soul does.”

Your heart skipped a beat, though you refused to let it show. The strange pull you felt toward him, the way his words resonated in a place you didn’t understand, unsettled you. But you weren’t about to let yourself fall prey to whatever delusion he seemed to believe.

“My name is not Anna,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not her. And what the fuck. Like, what do you mean, ‘my soul knows you?’ No, it doesn’t, and neither does it want to know you, creep.”

For the briefest moment, his eyes darkened, a hint of anger flickering in his violet gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the calm confidence that seemed to radiate from him like an aura.

“You are right,” he murmured. “Anna is not your name now. But names are fleeting, aren’t they? A mortal convention. What matters is what lies beneath—the essence of who you are. That… has not changed. And your soul does know me, baby.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as he stepped closer. He was close enough now that you could see the fine details of his face—the sharp lines, the pale smoothness of his skin, the way his dark hair framed his intense, hauntingly beautiful eyes.

“Stop,” you said, taking a step back, your voice wavering despite your best efforts. “You can’t just show up and decide who I am to you. I have my own life, my own choices.”

“You do,” he agreed, his tone maddeningly calm. “And yet, every choice you’ve made has led you back to me.”

Your eyes narrowed, judging him harshly, every fiber of your being screaming skepticism.

“You don’t remember,” he continued, his voice softening. “But I do. Every moment, every word, every promise we made to each other… it has stayed with me, even as lifetimes have passed. And now, you are here. Do you think that is a coincidence?”

You clenched your fists, willing yourself to punch him in his nose if he uttered one more word. But logic warned you against it; if he was dangerous, that could provoke him. So instead, you tried to reason with him.

“I don’t believe in fate,” you said quietly, though even as you spoke, the words felt hollow.

Fyodor smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You don’t have to. I believe enough for the both of us.”

The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the city outside. You could feel the weight of his presence pressing against you—not in a threatening way, but in a way that made your chest tighten with an emotion you couldn’t name.

“Are you crazy?” you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

His gaze softened further, and for the first time, there was no trace of his usual composure. He looked at you with a vulnerability so raw it made your chest ache.

“For you? Yes,” he said simply. “A thousand times yes.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you found yourself unable to meet his gaze. You turned away, crossing your arms over your chest as if to shield yourself from the intensity of his confession.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know you, and I can’t be her.”

Fyodor took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were approaching something fragile.

“I don’t expect you to remember,” he said. “And I will not force you to. But that does not change what is true. You are mine, and I am yours. Whether you know it or not, whether you accept it or not, that is the reality of our existence.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. There was no malice in his tone, no threat—only an unshakable certainty that terrified and intrigued you in equal measure.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you said firmly, turning back to face him.

He smiled again, a small, almost wistful smile. “No,” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are not a possession. You belong only to yourself. But your heart… your soul… they have always been tied to mine.”

The room felt unbearably still. You could hear your own heartbeat, loud and erratic in the silence. Fyodor stood before you, his presence overwhelming yet strangely comforting, like a dark cloud that promised rain but not a storm.

“I will not hurt you,” he said softly, taking another step forward. “I will never hurt you. But I cannot—will not—allow anyone else to take what is mine. You are my light, my salvation, my reason for enduring this endless cycle of time. And now that I’ve found you again, I will not let you slip away.”

His voice cracked slightly at the last word, and the sound tugged at something deep within you. Against your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to believe him, wanting to understand this strange, otherworldly bond he seemed so certain of.

But you couldn’t. You weren’t some helpless girl who let herself be drawn into something she didn’t understand, especially not by a man who seemed carved from shadow.

“Leave,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “Please.”

Fyodor’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shifted. Slowly, he stepped back, his hands falling to his sides in a gesture of reluctant surrender.

“As you wish,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “For now.”

With one last lingering glance, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of your apartment.

But even as the door clicked shut, you could still feel his presence, like a ghost lingering at the edges of your mind.

And for the first time, you wondered if he might be right.

[httpskuzuu]

I’m begging for yandere Fyodor smut 🙏🙏🙏

I don’t have a specific plot in mind but I’m just so obsessed with your writing.

Attention

This is my first smut, I'm fucking embarrassed, sorry if it's not very good, I don't even know what the fuck I was writing, I did this in English class, which would explain why I keep using the translator for writing

Anyway, I try to make reader gender neutral. If at any time I have used a word that is used to refer to the male or female gender, please let me know‼️‼️

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

summary: Fyodor gives you the attention you so desperately need

tw: NSFW/smut, humiliation, degradation, use of the nickname whore, toxic relationship, yandere¿ not much

You assume you really love Fyodor, if you didn't really love him, why would you let him do this to you?

He was a motherfucker, he still is, your relationship is still just as toxic and unsolvable. At first, you wanted to change it, change his obsessive behavior, now you learned to live with it.

You liked the attention, you always liked it, wasn't an obsessive person the best thing for you in this case? You had all his attention to yourself.

"Since when did my маленькая мышь* become such a needy whore?"

You groan as your only response towards his question, enjoying his long fingers inside you. You weren't going to dare complain about his degrading treatment, after all, you had been the one who came whimpering in search of him.

"Mmmh, have I been neglecting you? And here I thought the previous time I fucked you was enough for you, how foolish of me." His breath is in your ear and all you can do is cling to him tightly. "I should be harder this time, don't you think?" He finishes his speech with a dry slap on your thigh, leaving a red mark for the remainder of the night.

Part of you knows you shouldn't like it so much, but you ignore it completely.

"A-Ah! P-please! I'm going to-" Your moans are loud enough to stifle your words.

Ah, it feels so good, and it's even better that you're being made to feel this way by a man as attractive as Fyodor. No matter how toxic he was with you, there was a part of you that constantly told you that you loved him. Maybe it was true.

… And this is already the second time he's made you cum with just his fingers.

"If you're like this with just my fingers…" He said in a mocking tone, filling you with humiliation. "I can't wait to see you with my dick inside you."

You watched in a blur of pleasure as his hand went down to pull down his own pants. It would be a good night, you're sure.

why do i do this kind of thing? my god...

[wasteofbandagesxx]

Unwanted

{Fyodor x Reader}

Conent: unhealthy relationship, manipulate, gaslight, toxic, neglect

The relationship was a mistake, something you shouldn't have gotten yourself involved with. Now, here you are, stuck with the devil himself. He could care less about your relationship, too busy with his own shit. You felt useless, honestly. You didn't know why you bothered to stay at his side, you were stuck.

You guys never went out on a date, never had alone time together, nothing. You were well aware of being his puppet, but you couldn't care less. You keep tricking yourself into believing that Fyodor needs you and that he loves you, but your well aware of the truth. You've thought of hurting him so many times, but you could never bring yourself to do it. Fyodor would give you little attention and that was enough for now, it's better than nothing. Even if you had the guts to kill him, you knew he would get to you first. He has his way with things. He's a demon, a very cold hearted man that only cares about one thing in the world and that is to make the world pure. Fyodor himself is the opposite of pure, his twisted beliefs clouding his mind. He'd do anything for the world to be pure, he wouldn't let it burn for something like you.

"Fyodor, wanna go for a walk? You've been staring at those monitors for hours and it's bad for your eyes."

"No thanks, another time. I'll be fine, now run along and do some errands for me."

"Fyodor, I've made dinner. Come eat please."

"I can't, I'm too busy right now."

"Can we cuddle?"

"Cuddle a pillow or something."

"I love you hun."

"Mhm, I know you do."

As much as you tried being affectionate and caring for him, he just pushes you away. He doesn't desire you the way you desire him. He's too busy in his office, typing away ion his computer and chewing on his brittle fingernails. You walk in with a cup of tea, you thought it was needed to sooth him and make him relaxed. "Fyodor, I brought you some tea." You carefully placed it on the desk, away from the monitors so no accidents happen. "Thank you darling, I really needed some tea. I do need you for something so it's a good thing your here." He turns his chair around to face you and pulls out a long list of errands. "I need you to do this for me." He hands it to you and turns back to his monitors, on that list was just nothing but bullshit to you. It's always cooking, getting food, kidnaping, murdering, ect. Sure you agreed to this relationship but never agreed to being a full time house wife. "If I do all this, can we please relax in bed together?"

"No, I'm far to busy. Just get out and do what's on the list." He said firmly, not even taking his eyes away from the screen. You were growing impatient, you were tired of his games and acting like an oblivious little puppet. You threw the paper back on his desk and prepared yourself for another argument. "No." Fyodor stopped typing and turns his chair around again to look at you. "No?" He gives you the look that he knows would intimidate you. "I'm tired of this Fyodor. I'm tired of not being treated like I should be. I'm your partner, I should at least have some respect, and my needs are important too." You slightly raised your voice so you can give a clear message of how tired you are. "Now your acting like a spoiled brat. I provide you food, clothes, a reason to live. I even give you compliments here and there. I took you from the streets and now your complaining about doing too much work? Not only that, but also saying that I don't satisfy your needs. It's not my fault I'm always busy." He wasn't gonna let you win this argument, he knows that standing up to him is pointless. But the man can't help but find it amusing.

"We hardly do what couples do. Whenever I do something for you, you never say thank you, only once in a while you do but the lack of appreciation is unacceptable. The love and care I show means nothing to you. Your calling me a spoiled brat when you can't even appreciate the things I do for you. I only ask for you to help me out with things and give me affection, not brush me off and act like I'm not a person. Like I said before, I have needs too. I-"

"Am I not enough for you?" Hearing that made you stopped talking, you froze from hearing that simple question. "I try my best to take care of you, and as much as I want to give you affection, I'm busy. What I do is for you, all my hard work is not only for the world but for you too. I work day and night to achieve my goal, our goal. It doesn't help that your whining about your own needs not being satisfied and it sounds like my effort is for nothing. You make me feel worthless, wasting my time with work means nothing to you. Is all my hard work not enough for you? Am I not enough for you?"

You wanted to bitch slap him but your body was frozen in fear and guilt. You start to think if standing up to him was a good idea. He was getting under his skin, there was no way you could win this argument. "That's not-"

"Your hurting me, love. All my love and work is unwanted. I do everything for you, you do everything for me. I don't see why there's a reason to complain. Maybe you should stop being selfish and go do what you were told to do."

Hearing all those things impacted you alot. Tears welling up in your eyes, you didn't want him to see you cry so you tilt ur head down so ur face is covered by your hair. There was no point in arguing anymore, the guilt was eating you alive. "I'm sorry..." You apologized, was cracked as you try hard not to cry. Fyodor felt no guilt what so ever. "Aww, come here darling..." You looked at him in shock as the man you love opened his arms. You got close to him and accepted his embrace. He hugs you tightly, as if you were going to fade away. He tries comforting you, his sympathy fake as always. "It's alright darling. You've done a lot and your probably tired from the work you have to do. I shouldn't be so hard on you. I'm sorry love." He gently pets your hair and whispers sweet nothing into your ear.

He knew that if the argument were to continue, you would break up with him and try to leave. He couldn't have that, you know too much. He can't have his little doll running loose and snitching on him about his plans. He realized he needed to satisfy your needs in order for you to stay. You were too useful to him. You are wanted, but the same time not. "I love you dear. You know that, right?" You let out a quiet whine and shook your head, answering his question.

You were just giving up at this point. Everytime this monster would manipulate and gaslight you to put you in your place. The last time you tried standing up to him, it didn't end well. That's why you gave up so easily. You felt useless. You knew you were wanted, but not in a loving way. You were always unwanted. "I love you dear."

"I love you too."

[inkykeiji]

character: fyodor x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, bratty reader, toxic relationship, impact play: caning, blood, physical abuse (fyodor breaks one of reader’s bones), jealousy (feat. nikolai), princess used as a pet name, reader does not know russian or ukrainian, size difference (fyodor is bigger than reader), one instance of Sir

words: 2.7k

You’re getting restless, he can tell; can see it in the way you’re running your index finger along the spines of the old, crumbling books as you listlessly pace around the library, collecting dust on your fingertip; can hear it in the way you sigh, soft and delicate, wistful and weary, shoulders deflating a little with the exhale. 

Bratty and bored, that’s what you are, casting longing side glances at your Daddy from the corners of your eyes, desperate and hopeful for him to take notice of you, of your current state, and relieve you of it. Bratty and bored, but brats don’t get Daddy’s attention, especially not when they know he’s busy. 

He wonders how long you’ll hold out before you succumb, how long you can reign in your inherent selfish and spoiled nature before the restraints finally snap beneath your yearning for attention.

Not very long, he wagers. 

“Nikki,” you whine a mere moment after the thought passes through Fyodor’s mind, the nickname stringy and drawn out.

“Yes, princess?” Nikolai responds without tearing his gaze from the pages of his book. 

“I’m bored,” you grumble with a pout, sauntering over to the plush armchair Nikolai is snuggled in and perching on the edge, ass and thigh pressed up against his resting forearm. 

The action surprises him slightly and he looks up at you, a question lingering in his mismatched eyes. 

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “So I came to see what you were reading,” you continue as a way of explanation, leaning forward under the guise of getting a better view of the book between his palms, swelling breasts—perky and practically spilling out from that slutty milkmaid dress Fyodor loves so much—pressing into Nikolai’s cheek as you do so. 

The curiosity on his face develops into something wicked, eyes darkening and smile furling in on itself as he casts you another glance.

Oh, he knows exactly what you’re doing. 

Holding out the book further, he leans into your chest, nuzzling your bosom ever-so-slightly. 

“It’s called Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka,” he says. “You can read it with me, if you’d like.”

“I can’t read Russian, though,” you frown, sounding as if you’re genuinely disappointed.

With a shake of his head, Nikolai laughs gently, the melody both fond and condescending.

“It’s not Russian,” he says. “It’s Ukrainian.”

At your lost look—eyes widened, brows wrinkled, head tilted, so precious, so pathetic, like a stupid little puppy—he laughs again, releasing a corner of the book and holding his arm out, welcoming you into his lap. “Here,” he beckons, nodding his head a little in indication. “I’ll read it to you, then.”

Holding his stare, you hesitate for a moment, as if you’re weighing your options, carefully considering your choices and determining which packs the most heft, the most hurt. 

Then you’re settling onto his lap a moment later, a little palm planted high on his thigh as you lean forward, scanning the page. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, resting the hinges of his jaw on your body, his back pressed flush to yours. When he speaks again, you can feel his voice vibrate against his ribs. 

At the commotion, Fyodor looks up from his rosewood desk across the room, pen hovering above his papers as he observes, dripping splotches of ink across the page.

Nikolai’s murmuring to you, slowly, softly, lips grazing the cartilage of your ear as he reads, too low for Fyodor to make out the words flowing from his mouth. 

But he doubts Nikolai is actually reading to you, your sweet little giggles and bashful fluttering lashes telling him as much, Nikolai nosing along your jaw as his lips continue to move, the ghost of a smirk playing with the corners of his mouth. 

And, for a little while, Fyodor allows it to continue, jaw flexing infinitesimally with every hushed sound you emit, nostrils twitching, on the verge of flaring with each calculated exhale. 

For a little while, he’s alright; for a while, he can handle it. 

But you all knew it wouldn’t last long. 

A little squeal breaks in your throat in response to something Nikolai’s done or said, chest hunching in on itself only stopped by Nikolai’s large hands on your waist, fingers splayed wide and keeping you upright, so long they’re overlaying your ribs, thumbs just beneath your breasts.

And that’s all it takes, really.  

The sound of wood scraping wood has your body snapping into action, a switch flipped—automatic, inherent—and you slip from Nikolai’s grasp easily, flitting out the door with the grace of a single dove feather. 

Echos of your bare feet slapping against marble fill the wide hallways, tangled with breathless bubbles of laughter and the muted stomp of his rubber soles against the pristine floor. He’s panting behind you, pushing his body to the limit as he shoves himself forward, lungs aching, outstretched hand missing the hem of your dress by the width of a hair, again, fingers curling into a fist of nothing. 

The muscles in your legs are burning—his own legs are longer than yours, his strides more adept as they cover a larger area of ground, but you won’t give in; not until he catches you. 

And he’s close. 

Giggles are barreling up your throat and past your lips, an endless stream of amusement only slightly stuttered by your gentle, uneven huffs of exertion. The soles of your feet skid audibly on the marble as you sharply round a corner, skin squealing, but you don’t stop, not until you round the next curve in the knotted hallways, not until you realize that he’s no longer following you; that you are, suddenly and abruptly, all alone. 

Your feet scuttle to a stop, heaving chest adorned with dewdrops of sweat, glistening prettily in the warm lamplight of the manor. The silence is dense, ears ringing with the pressure, your own breathing muffled by it. The silence is heavy, crushing, almost, burdened by the immense scale and size of the manor, the whole structure so monstrous, so massive it feels nearly suffocating, like it could swallow you whole in a single gulp.

“Daddy?” you call out, voice small and hesitant, eyes darting around the empty space. The lamps on the walls waver for a moment, as if a breeze had somehow passed through the bulbs, but the air is stagnant and still. 

You turn slowly, balls of your feet sticking to the polished floor, gaze careful and cautious as it searches for any signs of life. 

“Daddy, where’d you—”

A large hand claps over your mouth and smothers your words, long fingers wreathing around your jaw, jagged nails digging into your cheek, and yanks you back against thin muscle and hard bone, engulfing you in darkness a second later. 

It all happens so quickly, so unexpectedly that you hardly have any time to meditate on the instance before you’re being whirled around, spine slamming against drywall, your body caged between the surface and the steady rise and fall of your Daddy’s chest. 

You had forgotten that this place contains many secret passageways and hidden rooms. 

You had also forgotten that Daddy knows all of them, and you know none. 

He’s got a large hand cuffed around either of your wrists, pinning them to the weathered wallpaper, warped and peeling, just above your head. 

You struggle a little, wriggling in his grip, and his fingers tighten in warning, palms pressing your limbs further against the wall, the bones of your wrist ground together in each of his hands, your features tweaking in a suppressed wince.

“Why are you on such bad behaviour today?”

“I’m not.” 

An eyebrow raises. “You’re not?”

“No. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

He laughs, nothing more than a gentle huff, and it sends chills skittering up your spine.

“You know how many lashes lying to Daddy gets you, don’t you?”

“Fifteen,” you answer dutifully.

“Yes. And how many lashes does flirting with someone else get you?”

“Twenty five.”

“Exactly. And how many lashes is that total?”

“Forty.”

“Forty,” he repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting each letter, molding it with his tongue. “Can you handle that? Do you think it was wise to act out in such a manner while Daddy was working?”

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” you say in simple explanation, though your voice is solemn, words filtered through a petulant pout.

“You have my full attention now.”

“Good.” 

Blinking twice, both eyebrows quirk. “Would you like to add to your current sentence of forty lashes?” 

“Depends. What else do you got?”

His tongue runs along the front of his teeth, curling over the edges, bulging beneath his top lip as he considers. “How about an extra ten for generally pissing me off?”

“Fifty.” you say plainly. “I’ll take them.” 

“Yeah? You won’t be able to sit properly for about a month or so.”

“I don’t care. Give them to me, I want them.”

Fifty it is.

He smiles at you then, and it’s sharp, it’s sinister, curling up at the corners and nearly furling in on itself, his eyes glowing. 

He says nothing as he latches a large hand around your bicep, grip just hard enough to be uncomfortable, just hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have a pretty cuff of all four fingers and his thumb, seared into your skin in brilliant blues, by the following morning. 

But then he tugs, and a yelp cracks in your throat despite your best efforts to keep it from happening. His fingers twitch, tighten, and you grind your teeth together, an attempt to keep from making another sound. 

Because you didn’t miss the telltale flutter of the edges of his mouth when you cried out, the way his chest puffed out just a little further, raising him to his full height. 

Because as well as he knows you, you know him, too, and the last thing you want to do is give him any further satisfaction; not after he ignored you all day, acted as if you didn’t exist, nothing more than a slightly irksome ghost lingering around the edges of his consciousness, gaze only occasionally flicking up from his thick books and crumpled papers and ink-stained fingers to trail you for a moment—to make sure you were still there—before returning to his work.

“I will not be restraining you,” he tells you, as nonchalantly as if discussing the snow outside, soles of his boots echoing against the marble as he stalks towards the wardrobe. “You move so much as an inch and I will add an additional five lashes. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

And you can’t suppress the smug little grin that slithers across your face as you assume the position—hips bent at a ninety-degree angle, chest pressed into the mattress, cheek nuzzled against the silk comforter—feeling exceptionally proud of yourself for remembering the Sir, for not giving him another reason to lengthen your punishment. 

“Good,” he says, and oh, you can hear it, that minuscule barely there tremor of fury, wavering in the word like a maggot under his skin. 

He decides on his favourite cane, black ebony wood with the silver handle, made of pure platinum and topped with a sphere. This is a uncommon occurrence; he rarely uses this cane, for fear of breaking it on you, as he’s done to so many other so many times before. 

He’s unrestrained today: which is to say, he has decided to be unrestrained today, a conscious choice to be harsh, cruel, messy with it all. 

You know not to mistake this with true lack of control; he could be constrained and neat with all of his lines if he wanted to be, but he doesn’t want to be. 

Not today.

You don’t deserve it.  

Every smack of the cane against your ass leaves raised, swiftly swelling welts in its wake, first materializing in thin lines, then in thick, before the skin finally begins to tear, spanked raw and rubbed down from the constant friction. 

They crisscross over your backside, crooked slashes and streaks embellishing your bum and the very tops of your thighs. Each stroke of the wood leaves a sharp sting searing across your flesh, followed by a dull, deep ache, the pain so dense you fear it may never fully leave you, throbbing as it burrows into your skin.

He doesn’t demand you count aloud, nor does he order you to keep quiet, and for this you are thankful, little whimpers and soft cries building as the punishment proceeds, evolving into full on shouts and sobs, fingers sore and stiff from clenching the edges of the mattress, desperate not to move. 

Only five left, you’re thinking to yourself in an effort to self-soothe, when the end is finally in sight. Only five more, and then it’s over; and then I’ve taken it all.

The next hit comes not with the heel but with the handle of the cane; a sphere of dense platinum, heavy and hard as it thwacks your tailbone, higher than any of the other strikes have been thus far.

A scream splinters in your throat, and you shove your face in the mattress, a feeble attempt to smother it, whole body recoiling from the impact.

You can feel the bone fissure, sending bolts of jagged pain shooting through your backside, sharper than the blunt ache the wood commands. Your fingers curl in the sheets, teeth sinking into the plush flesh of the bed, quivering muscles gone rigid as you try not to move around too much, lest Fyodor add another five lashes to your nearly completed punishment. 

He makes a masterpiece of your backside, a landscape of dark violet and navy blue, glittering scarlet pooling in the grooves of fields, fragile skin split from the constant whack of the cane. 

“Beautiful,” he breathes, fingertips skimming over his work, catching on the rapidly expanding bumps and ridges, bulging and thickening as blood rushes to cushion the injuries.

He digs a jagged nail into the wound, drags it through the hollowed gouges and collects blood beneath the sawtoothed edge.  

In a week or so, after the final bruise has fully developed and the blood has seeped through several layers of tissue to the surface, your shattered tailbone will serve as a massive moon, hanging low and heavy over the landscape. 

It will be one of the most stunning pieces of art he’s ever created, he’s sure of it.

It will be one of the most painful, extensive punishments you’ve ever endured; he’s sure of that, too.

It was fucking foolish to have challenged him, you knew it was right from the start, but—as expected—you just couldn’t help yourself. The whorish need for attention was too potent, too strong to resist, to ignore, to shove away into a corner of your mind and let it fester. 

But technically, ultimately, you got exactly what you wanted.  

Because when it’s all over, when you’ve taken your fifty lashes like the good little girl you are and you’re sobbing into the mattress, smearing spit and salt across the silk sheets, he collects you in his arms easily, scoops you up against his chest with a bicep cradling your neck and an elbow hooked beneath your knees and begins carrying you towards the small in-house infirmary.

You wail into his neck, little fingers curling in the collar of his sweater and yanking, desperate to pull yourself close, closer, as close as possible, finding comfort in your very own monster, your personal hell; delicious, decadent, devious. 

“Daddy, Daddy, Da-Daddy!”

Tender hushes fall from his lips, soaking into the crown of your head as he scatters placating kisses across your hair. And he’s so gentle, he’s so careful, minding your fractured bone as he hugs you to his ribs, rocking your shuddering body in his embrace ever-so-slightly, grip tightening as another one of those rough sobs rips through your chest.

Most of his anger has calmed now, beaten from his chest with the whip of the cane against your supple skin, but a few cinders of fury remain, simmering low and hot and quiet in his words. 

“Maybe next time,” he begins, softly seething, accent thicker than normal, “you’ll think twice before pressing your tits into Nikolai’s cheek, yes?”

[poetryandfluffycats]

Poker face

A/N: i wanna write a death note fic....

Pairing: Husband!Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem!reader

Content: You husband, Fyodor, doesn't tell you much about himself. He says that his stories will just bore you, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of murder, fyodor is a warning in itself😭

Words: 521

Oneshot under cut!

Fyodors eyes met mine from across the table, his cold gaze never leaving me even as he reached for his glass of wine and took a long sip. I watched his adams apple bob up and down with each swallow, the red liquid slowly disappearing from the glass. Our staring contest continued as he placed the glass down, leaning back in his chair resting his hands comfortably in his lap.

"How was your day, dear?" There was a smirk in his voice, even if it didn't show on his face. He didn't need to ask, he knew. He always knew.

"Fine" I blinked, keeping my face as neutral as possible. If I showed any cracks in my facade, he would have the upper hand. He would win. "Yours?"

"A bore" Fyodor sighed, moving his chess piece forward on the board. "Don't worry yourself, a worried wife is a useless one"

His words used to hurt me, burrowing like maggots into my brain and rotting away. Now I understood that I shouldn't take it to heart. That our marriage was a loveless one to begin with. That there was no reason to care for insults from a husband who only married me to use me as a tool in his game.

"Same for a worried husband, no?" I quipped back, moving my own piece. "Checkmate"

"You're learning" He chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into the slightest smile. He didn't smile much, or at least, not a genuine smile. Whether this one was real or not, I had no idea. It looked more out of mockery than anything. "Shall we go to bed, or do you have more snarky comments for me?"

"It's only 9pm" I tilted my head to the side, eying up the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

"Is that an issue?"

"For a man who stays up all night working on something he won't tell me about, yes. Why so tired now?"

Fyodor sighed again, shaking his head and sending me a sharp glare. "Don't ask me questions you don't want the answer too"

A classic response. A warning, more like. Fuck around and find out, poke the bear and get eaten, or which ever cliché phrase you wanted to use. It was true, however. I didn't want to know what he got up too at his work-which he had told me was an office job that would 'simply bore me to death'.

But I had seen him leave late in the night, seen him return covered in blood, seen the headlines the next morning and heard the gossip from the woman in town.

A terrorist organization, the Rats they called it, revoking havoc all over the country. The leader had been spotted too many times to count, a sicky Russian man with a piercing purple gaze.

I wasn't stupid.

But I wouldn't pry, either. I had all the information I was going to get. Because if there was one thing Fyodor was best at, it was his poker face.

"Fine. Bed it is"

"That's a good girl, tuck me in, will you?"

[osachiyo]

'*•.¸♡ 'WHAT A TEASE ! ♡¸.•*'

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ various bsd men x fem!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ including! dazai, chuuya & fyodor

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ cw! teasing,petnames, mentions of spanking, nsfw, reader is a menace as usual, chuuya being done with reader, degradation, humiliation, mentions of choking, masturbation at work, threats of punishing reader etc, reader is down bad for fyodor because I'm down bad for this menace of a Russian man, toxic relationship (fyodor)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary! you're absolutely bored out of your mind at home. with nothing better to do, you decide to send your lover some frisky photos/texts/audios to make him suffer because why not?

MINORS DNI OR I WILL THROW YOU INTO THE OCEAN!!

: ̗̀➛Dazai Osamu

You and Dazai have been dating for about one year and a half. The relationship was very sexually active but neither of you minded, really. You two enjoyed it very much in fact. So clearly the sex was never boring with Dazai. He knew exactly what spots to hit, if you'd like it hard or soft on that particular day and so on. But there was something you both did not try yet and you figured why not try it today?

Dazai was at work, spending his time at the Detective Agency. While you, on the otherhand, were at home bored out of your mind. You texted Dazai two hours ago, asking him if he had lunch yet. He responded with a "yes, have you eaten yet?" You responded in the affirmative and that was it. No more texts exchanged after that. You stare at the messages with a furrowed brow, missing him already. You got up from the sofa with a sigh and turned the TV off, then proceeded to head towards your bedroom when you remembered something. You bought a cute pair of lingerie last week which you haven't shown Dazai yet..a devious smirk appears on your face. You just had the perfect idea to cure your boredom.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Dazai was getting an earful from Kunikida when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He waved Kunikida off while pulling his phone out of his pocket. The blonde man, clearly very pissed off, was about to swing his right arm at Dazai when he suddenly gasped with his eyes as wide as saucers as he looked at whatever was on his phone. Kunikida raised an eyebrow as he leaned forward to see what surprised Dazai so much but the brown haired man shoved his phone back in his pocket but this time with a very serious face. He looked at Kunikida blankly before excusing himself to the bathroom. He got up from the chair and stormed off to the bathroom while trying to hide his raging hard on as best as he could. He slammed the bathroom door closed behind him as he reopens the image of you in the cutest fucking pair of lingerie he's ever seen. The cute little straps of the top piece digging into your soft flesh so sinfully and hugging your figure so fucking deliciously. He wanted to fuck you in the lingerie so bad, make you scream his name so loud that you'd get a noise complaint afterwards. Dazai could feel his breath quicken the longer he stares at the photo. You also sent him a text saying "I miss you, 'samu :("

What a little minx you were! But it's okay, two can play this game.

After a few moments of waiting, you heard your phone ping. You open it quickly to see what Dazai said and-

It was a video of him jerking his cock. His pants unbuttoned and pulled down to his knees. His hand stroking his cock and his thumb swiping over his slit occasionally. You could hear his soft grunts and moans of your name echoing from the bathroom walls through the video. His stroking got faster as his moans got louder, his hips thrusting up to meet his strokes. Precum dripping from his cockhead in beady pearls as he throws his head back with a particularly loud grunt. You could see his cock twitch one, two, three times before it spurts out milky cum all over his hand and thighs. You lick your lips. God you wanna taste him so fucking bad.

Did you really think you could tease Dazai without him getting you back? Silly girl.

: ̗̀➛ Chuuya Nakahara

You absolutely adored your boyfriend Chuuya. He was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. Your sex life with him was quite spicy as well. Even if he was busy most of the time, he would still squeeze in time for you and you appreciated his efforts very much. But you couldn't help but feel lonely without your hot-headed boyfriend keeping you company tonight. You twirled the glass of red wine in your hand, the deep red liquid swirling around in the glass as you sigh. You set the glass down gently and take your phone, opening the camera. You took some cute photos of yourself in the deep red slik robe Chuuya bought for you. As you were about to take another photo, an idea pops in your mind. Now, you love your boyfriend very very much. But you also love to tease the absolute shit out of him. So you undo the robe, your cleavage now very apparent as you angle the phone just right. You know Chuuya goes wild for your boobs and you’re gonna take advantage of that fact.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Chuuya was in the middle of beating the shit out of a dude when his phone pinged. He pulled out his phone abruptly, shocking the man. The enemy then took this opportunity to shoot at him when Chuuya swung at his jaw, dislocating it as the man falls to the ground. Chuuya scoffs then looks at what you sent him. His eyes widened in surprise as he stares at the photos of you showing your beautiful breasts off. The deep red material of the robe barely covering your mounds. He could see your hard nipples through the fabric. He could also see light purple bruises and bite marks adorning your chest area and it reminds him of the night before. The night where he worshipped and kissed each inch of your body as he thrusted into you. He replays the scene over and over again in his head. The gorgeous scene of your back arching as his tongue circles over your erect and swollen nipples. His hand toying with the other one he couldn't take into his mouth. Chuuya could feel his mouth watering from looking at your delicious breasts. He couldn't wait to get home. But you had to be punished for teasing him like this. He left you on read as he heads over to your shared apartment, he was in quite a rush while doing so. He could not wait to get his hands on you. Just you fucking wait.

: ̗̀➛ Fyodor Dostoevsky

Your relationship with Fyodor was...interesting to say the least. You were more like a pet to him than a lover. But you didn't mind, didn't mind at all actually. Your obsession with the said man forced you not to care. He could call you a desperate little slut for doing absolutely anything to receive a shred of his affection and you would eagerly agree with him. But he was actually quite nice to you. Most of the time, atleast. But you were more than okay with that. As long as you got to stay with him.

Usually you would try not to mind his absence too much as he didn't like it when you whined and begged him to stay with you. He claimed that he was busy and didn't have all the time in the world for you. You understood, of course. But tonight...tonight was different. Tonight you felt so fucking needy and you needed to have Fyodor touch you. Your gooey and dripping hole was begging to be filled. But the problem was that Fyodor was not home to satisfy your burning desires. Fyodor's sex drive was quite low but he did enjoy indulging in you from time to time. You needed him right now. You had a hidden stash of sex toys that Fyodor never found out about. You couldn't figure out how he didn't know about it though, considering he knows every single detail about you. But maybe he did know and just never brought it up? You decided not to think about it too much, giving into your need of sexual pleasure. You dug up a purple dildo from the box. If you remembered correctly...ah yes! It vibrates too. You quickly sit back on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard as you hit record. You place the phone so it shows your dripping pussy and your upper thighs spread apart and take a deep breath. Hopefully this can get home a little bit faster.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Fyodor was staring at one of his many screens as he plotted his master plan when- ping! His phone lit up with a notification. He took his phone and opened it, immediately taking him to his messages with you. He sees a 7 minute video sent by you. The raven haired man leans back in his chair and hits play.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw the view in front of him. Your legs spread apart, showing your glistening pussy to him. He could see everything. He could also hear your laboured breaths as you bring a purple dildo close to your cunt, rubbing it on your folds then spreading your pussy apart with your fingers before dragging the vibrating dildo from your clit and then down to your hole. He could see your hole clenching over nothing as more of your sweet nectar spills out of it. Fyodor could feel his pants tightening around him, his member erect against the material of his pants. He sucks in a breath when you slowly insert the dildo in your hole, whining his name out in the process making him clench his phone between his lithe fingers. He watches the video fully. He watched as you pleasured yourself without him. He watched as you touched his pussy without his permission. He watched as you came all over the once pristine sheets, soaking them with your cum and slick without his fucking permission. He watched as you moved the phone to your face afterwards, sucking the dildo off, cleaning it with your tongue as you would do with his cock.

Fyodor sent you a text reading, "I hope you enjoyed yourself, myshka. Because you're not cumming for a long time. You're in for a long night tonight, you slut."

Congratulations, you were absolutely fucked.

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

TAGLIST! @luvyein