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angelsrcute · 8 days

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SEX OBSESSION. 𝜗𝜚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Fyodor and Nikolai + Angel!Sub!Fem!Reader ➜cws: unprotected sex, use of lube, crying, praising, biting, corruption, creampie, double penetration, multiple rounds, fingering, nipple play, blowjob, hair pulling. ᡴꪫ‎

‎ ꒰ † ੭‎ For the event! + Fyodor calls you MIlaya(darling) n Nikolai calls you Myla moya(my dear) ヽ(´▽`)ノ

Curious. You were a very curious angel, oblivious too probably, believing that the world is just so good. For some reason, you met them, Fyodor and Nikolai, apparently from some group called ‘Decay of Angels’, what's that? No clue, but they seem quite nice.

And what were you doing right now? no clue either but you know that whatever they do makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. A sensation you've never felt, it feels so good that you're ready to do it anytime, anywhere. They tell you that it's something very close friends do. Angelic mind all corrupted, well can you blame them? you're just so cute when you beg for them to fuck you stupid!

All you remember is that fyodor was pent up and wanted to get some relief, Nikolai nodded away while giggling. I mean you were living here free of cost so it's only fair that you help your best friend relieve some stress, right? Maybe a movie night, or a game night–

So here you were, sucking Fyodor off while Nikolai worked on your pussy, thrusting two fingers inside you as he whispered sweet praises to your ears, “Such a good angel you are, Myla moya!” Nikolai purred while he was twisting and pinching your nipples, taking them in his mouth as he bit on them gently. Giving each bud equal attention.

Soft muffled gasps and moans left your lips, causing Fyodor to chuckle as he wiped the tears from your eyes, looking prettily at him through your lashes.

“Really, how sinful are you myshka? Aren't you supposed to be a divine being, hm?” He cooed, “God would definitely punish you for such sinful acts.” Earning a whine from you, he knows how devoted you are to the so-called God. More fun to tease you.

You could feel you were close, making your tummy all weird and hot. Fyodor grabs your hair, making you take more of him as he chases his own high, eyes closed as he mumbled something you couldn't focus on. You feel his cock twitch as he climaxes in your mouth, cursing, your eyes rolling back.

“You did a good job, MIlaya, now it's only fair that we return the favour, right?”

Your pussy coming around Nikolai's fingers. He pulled them out, licking up your juices, you were laying your head on Fyodor's thighs, all tired.

You could feel yourself being carried by Fyodor as he put you on the bed. Nikolai in front of your legs while Fyodor was behind you.

“Wait n-no, m’ too tired–” You managed to breathe out.

Well how did it feel being fucked by two cocks? you were absolutely disheveled. Sweat glistening from your forehead, arms wrapped around Nikolai as you bit down on his shoulder. You were so sensitive at this point, you don't remember what round this was but the only thing you could focus on is how good their cocks feel. Shoulders littered with love bites, fyodor played with your hardened nipples.

You were so sensitive, gasping at every movement. They both let out a grunt when they feels your gummy walls clench around them. You can't even let words out, just whimpers and moans.

“Shit, Myla moya, you're hurting me.” Nikolai whines, drawing slow circles on your puffy clit to soothe you. Your eyes all glossy, nail marks visible on Nikolai's shoulder alongside the bite marks you gave him to calm down.

After some time you feel both of them coming inside your holes, filling you up to the brim with their hot n sticky cum. Your stomach bulging a bit. The scent was so intoxicating as you three caught your breaths.

“MIlaya, let me run you a warm bath, you must be tired.” Fyodor let's out a chuckle at how sleepy you were, he caressed your cheeks.

He picked you up as he heard Nikolai pouting about how he also deserves to have that type of treatment too! “Not fairrr! Fedya, run me a bath too..”

Fyodor's lips curl into a smile as he nods and takes you to the bathroom, putting you in the bathtub, Nikolai joins soon after.

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fyorina · 2 months

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ᡣ𐭩 SNEAKIN' A PIC (ATTEMPT: FAILED)!

FEATURING: fyodor dostoevsky

SUMMARY: you never get to see him like this. is it really so awful that you want to capture the moment eternally? evidently to him, it is. (wordcount: 1.4k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'll never not make fun of that one panel of him sitting at his computers with his greasy ass hair even if he does look like a pretty princess in every other panel he has. my obsession with naps is being translated into my fics, i already posted a nikolai one posted and also have a dazai one in the drafts HAHA

When you wake up, you feel a weight on your bicep. Your brows furrow a bit in confusion, glancing to your right to where your arm is extended across the bed, but then your eyes fall upon Fyodor, fast asleep and using your arm as a pillow, and you can barely stop the small smile that rises to your lips.

Your arm is numb, but you don’t dare move in fear of waking him up—the clock on your nightstand reads nearly eight am, and you wonder when he finally came to bed last night. You know that he’s been pushing himself day and night to finalize the last parts of his plans, denying himself both sleep and food as he sits at his computers dealing with meetings and preparations 24/7.

He hadn’t even changed into a pair of pajamas before falling into bed with you, nor had he bothered to get beneath the covers. a part of you wonders if he even meant to sleep, or if he’d just pushed his body too far and only barely made it to the bed before it gave out on him.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You bite back a sigh as your gaze traces over the stubborn man—he always looks delicate in his sleep, in a way that he never does when he’s awake with his eyes shut and his long, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. His expression is the picture of serenity rather than the cold and unapproachable face he wears when he’s awake.

You think that he’s pretty all the time, but there’s something special about being able to witness Fyodor Dostoevsky in his most vulnerable moments, knowing that you’re the only one he allows to be with him in them.

You’re half-tempted to reach over to your nightstand with your free hand to try to grab your phone and snap a picture of him. You look over, wondering if you can reach it without jostling your other arm around, but before you can even consider your chances, you hear: “Do not.”

Fyodor’s voice is still thick with sleep. you glance over at him, surprised, but his eyes are still shut, and he hasn’t budged an inch. You wonder if you imagined it, but then his eyes crack open, thin slivers of purple glaring at you.

“Just one for me?” you ask quietly. “No one else will see.”

“No.”

You pout softly but roll back to look at him. He still looks exhausted, the bags beneath his eyes are dark and heavy, and he can barely even hold his eyes open. You reach out, cupping his cheek gently and watching as his eyes slide back shut, a soft exhale spilling from his lips as he lets the side of his face sink back into your arm, dozing back off.

You smile lightly, shifting forward a bit to press your lips to his forehead, stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb.

“I need to get up,” he murmurs, but his eyes are still shut and his voice is thick with sleep. “I need to finish-“

“You will not finish anything adequately in this state,” you chide gently. “If you get proper sleep, you’ll be much more efficient and effective.”

Fyodor looks as if he wants to argue, brows furrowing at your words even with his eyes shut. You only jostle him a bit closer, watching as he shoots you an irate look, but then settles down when he realizes you’re only dragging him closer so that he can rest his head on your chest—a place far more comfortable than your arm.

“Wake me up in an hour,” he finally orders, and you agree absently, knowing that you absolutely will not.

You think, as Fyodor lets himself doze off on your chest, that it’s hard to remember he’s quite literally one of the most dangerous men on this planet. That if he so pleased, he could activate his ability and kill you without a moment’s warning. That he’s a man who is so terrifyingly intelligent that it sometimes comes across as prophetic, and you can’t help but wonder if he speaks the truth when he claims to be led by the Hand of God.

Your hand smoothes across his back in steady circles, tilting your face down to press your lips to the top of his head. His hair is a bit oily, as he usually lets it get when he deprives himself of basic necessities while he works. You’ll have to convince him to take a bath with you when he wakes up, but you figure it’ll be a battle because you already convinced him to sleep in a little longer, he’ll not want to waste any more time.

You almost want to pinch him, wondering why everything with him has to be a war when it comes to taking proper care of himself. He rarely even remembers to take his iron supplements on the daily without your prompting, and he knows if he doesn’t take them, he’ll be prone to dizziness and fatigue. For all of his intelligence, you feel like sometimes that you’re a mother dealing with a stubborn child, not your lover.

“Stop that,” Fyodor sighs, shifting a bit to get comfortable. “Dim your thoughts, dusha moya. I can feel you getting yourself wound up.”

You scowl. “You know, Fedya, maybe you should just drop the whole terrorist plot and become one of those preachers on the radio who pretend to be prophets. Build yourself a cult, make some money. You already seem to know everything, wouldn't be too hard."

Fyodor tilts his head up to look at you, expression so deadpan and unamused that it nearly makes you snort, but you only dip your head down to kiss between his eyes.

"Sleep,” you say, voice softer. “You need it.”

Fyodor doesn’t respond, and when you tilt your head to the side to look at him again, you find that he already dozed back off again, shoulders rising and falling steadily underneath the arm you have wrapped around him.

You smile lightly and you tighten your arms a bit as Fyodor lets out a puff of air in his sleep, turning his head to lay the side of his face on your chest. In this position, you can see the way his eyes flit beneath his eyelids rapidly, his brain still running rampant even in sleep.

You bring your fingers to his hair to card them through the dark locks, slow and soothing in the way you know he likes, watching as his eye movements slow and his body relaxes into yours.

Your smile widens a bit before it abruptly falls, laying your head back against the pillow as you finally begin your next challenge: drawing out a battle plan for convincing Fyodor to take a bath with you when he wakes up.

You sigh to yourself heavily, knowing well that you're about to be facing the most difficult argument of your life with the most stubborn man alive. You can already feel the headache, and you think that you deserve a new picture for your lock screen from how much trouble Fyodor gives you on the daily, but as you side eye your nightstand again and try to calculate whether or not you can reach your phone without waking him up, you feel fingers wrap around your free hand.

You gape in disbelief as you look down to see Fyodor grab your hand in his sleep, as if he knew what you were planning even when not conscious.

Unbelievable, you think bitterly, plan entirely thwarted, but your gaze softens at the sight of him fast asleep on your chest, clutching your hand with one of his.

Maybe you don't need a picture, you realize, because you think there's no way you'd ever allow this image to fade away from your mind.

Still, you think he should severely reconsider his line of work.

Even more so now, in fact, because there is something entirely abnormal about his seemingly perfect foresight, evidently flawless even in his sleep too.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #fyodor x reader #fyodor fluff #fyodor x you #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x you #fyodor dostoevsky fluff

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stinkyme · 5 months

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Hello! I won't explain myself, yall should've seen it coming at this point 💆��‍♀️ I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW (mdni), fem!reader, hate sex, reader is Fyodor's subordinate, mutual degrading (dumb slut, bitch, crybaby, etc), usage of (little) girl & she/her pronouns, reader slaps Fyodor, dacryphilia (both), riding, reader teasing Fyodor's mommy issues ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯, oral fixation (?), mentions of blood and marks, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :) and sorry if this sucks, I haven't been very inspired + got a bit rusty me thinks :/ sorry if you dislike it!

Hate Sex || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

You aren't entirely sure when exactly you started sleeping with Fyodor. Sleeping is probably a soft word to use, better way to put it is - you aren't sure when you became his little sex toy.

Perhaps in-between endless, to you - quite boring assignments and missions he was giving you, he decided to make a full use out of you to which you compiled as a good little subordinate you were. Which, by the way, he would disagree with.

He always had a snarky comment to make, not praising you once, not thanking you once for sticking by his side for so long and flawlessly executing all of his desires.

Without questioning his reasoning, without asking for details - you were a perfect weapon, a perfect executor. Unlike Fyodor, who was far away from a perfect superior, treating you like you were nothing but one of the mere useless pawns he was using as he pleased. You would lie if you said it didn't hurt your ego or that it wasn't pissing you off each time his eyes would look at you with disinterested, even bored gaze after you give details of everything you executed perfectly. Waving his hand at you in a lazy manner as he turns on his chair, not giving you a benefit of a simple praise, a simple acknowledgment of your hard work.

His treatment towards you was beyond unfair, as if he was holding all those useless idiots above you. It was annoying, humiliating and it made your blood boil. There was not a single way to hurt Fyodor, you knew that, but you were also the only person who had him in one of his most vulnerable states.

So, why not use that to your advantage and let out some pent up stress you were experiencing?

"I completed the mission perfectly. Again." you say in a stern tone, slightly sighing as you close the door behind you.

"Is that so?" Fyodor doesn't give you even a proper moment of his attention, voice distant as his gaze remains on the paper he was holding. You silently click your tongue, but quickly compose yourself as you walk up to his desk, eyes swiftly scanning over the paper in his hand.

"Indeed it-"

"Bring me a cup of tea since you are back." he cuts you off in a beat, that familiar feeling of humiliation settling in your tummy again. You remain still, gaze evidently displeased with his request.

There is a prolonged moment of silence, a thick layer of tension filling up the distance between the two of you. Finally, Fyodor looks up, gaze switching from disinterest to slight irritation upon meeting yours that was holding evident annoyance. He drops the paper, fingers elegantly colliding together, hiding his lips.

"Is there an issue with my request?" he says in a serious tone, the usual silkiness of his voice getting lost. His gaze is sharp, shamelessly piercing through yours. You feel your whole body burning, breath short as your remaining dignity gets ruined by him, once again. However, you decide to swallow your pride this time, once more.

"No, sir. I will be back in a couple of minutes." you say sternly as you turn on your heel, closing your eyes once he can't see them anymore, anger boiling inside your tummy.

Your hand reaches the doorknob when Fyodor stops you in your tracks.

"Take your time."

There is a split second of initial confusion.

"Wash yourself up first, I can't have you walking around looking like that. Dirty and unpresentable."

You hear a rustle of papers as you shoot him a cold gaze, the one he doesn't return, too busy with work. As always.

"I thought you liked the taste of blood." you make a dirty remark, lips slightly curling as shameless pride fills you up. Fyodor glances sharply in your direction, sucking his cheeks in, his very discreet way of showing annoyance, but you notice. You hum as the feeling of pride overwhelms you, another remark leaving your lips quickly.

"One more thing."

You pause for a moment, noticing that his gaze slightly softens.

"When you make a request, you usually use the word please. Just for the future reference."

Your face molds from a sly expression to an irritated one, voice sharp. You quickly open the door, not giving him any time to answer you, enjoying the feeling of victory. It's not the full experience you desire, but it will make you satisfied for now.

There are so many more ways you wish to use in order to humiliate him and ruin that disgusting demeanor of his.

Lucky or unlucky for you, either way, Fyodor shared the exact same feelings towards you.

Which is why you got an invitation to his room tonight - to fulfill another of your endless, unappreciated duties and ease up his pent up irritation.

Couple of hours later, you find yourself greedily kissing Fyodor, hands gently pulling on his purple locks. He carefully sucks on your bottom lip, letting his tongue slide over it in a teasing manner. Your hands sneak underneath his thin shirt, fingertips messily exploring his lanky body. He lets out a mellow whimper as his tongue finds yours, sound getting muffled by the kiss.

Foreplay with Fyodor was different than his usual self.

He wasn't the most loving, evidently, but he was holding a certain tenderness during it. That's truly the only part of his that you were looking forward to. The vulnerable, whiny Fyodor that only you get to see. That only you get to ruin.

He swiftly slides his thumbs between your panties and hips, greedily rolling them down your thighs as you undo your bra, allowing him to softly kiss your chest area as the bra falls down your arms. Your hands move to take off his boxers, his hard, needily dripping cock softly pressing into your tummy as his hands pull on your hips, fingernails slightly digging into your skin.

Quickly enough, you find yourself on top of him - as always. He leans his back against the bed frame, hands falling on your hips, fingers shakily pressing into your skin, needy for you to pleasure him. With a slight dissatisfaction in your eyes, you look down on him for a few moments. In those few moments you let all of your anger and hatred towards him settle inside your body, a burning sensation of a desire to humiliate him like no one did before swirling inside your tummy.

You align your dripping cunt with the tip of his cock and slowly move your hips down, each inch stretching you out more and bringing soft moans out both of your throats. Your ass reaches his thighs and you remain still for a moment, purposefully clenching around him, receiving a breathy moan of his in response. You give him a sly smile as your hands rest on his trapeziuses, fingernails slightly digging into the cold flesh as you start moving your hips up and down, in an agonizingly slow manner.

Fyodor keeps his gaze on you, there is a lingering anger behind his eyes, even though mellow whimpers escape his parted lips. You let out a mellow moan each time you slide completely on his cock, its tip reaching the deepest spot inside of you. You remain at your pace, slow and teasing, not taking your eyes off of him. His fingernails dig deeper into your hips, squeezing a light gasp out of your lungs as he kneads on your skin roughly.

"Go faster." he orders, voice cold but quieter. You smile, bending your knees and adjusting yourself into a frog-like position. His face softens at that, he loved when people were obedient to his orders. You lift your hips up, letting only the tip of his cock remain in your needy cunt, holding it like that for a moment, letting the anticipation build up.

Fyodor's lips part in expectation of a heavy thrust, but he only receives a slow slide down on his cock, a sly smile curling on your lips.

"I prefer it like this." you say in a playful tone as you slowly move your thighs and hips up and down, occasionally clenching around his pathetic cock. He lets out a soft grunt, either from dissatisfaction or pleasure - perhaps both. He digs his fingernails more into your skin, receiving a sharp gasp of yours as the burning sensation tingles under your almost ripped skin.

"I said go faster." he says in a cold, almost threatening tone, as his fingernails keep on digging into your skin. You let out a yelp, but keep your pace slow and teasing. There is an evident anger and frustration lingering in your gaze, chest shaky with a desire to hurt him. However, you keep your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling you up.

"Only if you say please." you force a teasing smile, pussy clenching around his tip before you slide down in an even slower manner. His grip on your hips becomes painful, a sharp gasp escaping your throat in response as your hands fall onto his wrists. You barely pull his hands away and keep them on the sides, meeting his anger filled gaze, returning the same treatment.

"Say please." your voice is more stern as you keep slowly sliding up and down on his cock, suppressing your own moans each time it rubs over your sweetest spots. Fyodor remains silent, lips parted in pleasure that he was trying to hold back as your grip on his wrists tightens.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you?" you ask in a sharper tone as you let yourself remain still, sitting on top of him as his cock reaches the deepest parts of you.

There was something challenging, dark in his eyes as he finally replies.

"Who do you think you are to order me around? Should I remind you of who you are?" his voice is cold, but his cock slightly twitches inside your warm, dripping cunt as you remain still. Your lips become shaky, grip on his wrists loosening as your tummy burns in a mixture of annoyance and anxiety. He moves his hands away from yours, letting one of them fall on your waist as the other one cups your cheek, thumb drawing small circles on your skin.

"You are a dumb little slut." he says in a condescending tone, a sly smile on his face, but slowly his annoyance takes over him as he finally lets his thoughts out.

"A dumb little slut who is good for nothing but my cock. And can't even do that properly." he spats out, voice becoming more filled with hatred.

"A dumb little slut who thinks she has any say in how I will behave. A dumb little bitch who thinks she can tell me what to do." his voice grows more deep, more annoyed, more everything.

"Disrespectful senseless little girl who expects praise every time she does her job. Is that why you behave like a desperate whore every time you finish a mission?" he continues, his thumb gently caressing your burning cheek. Bitter tears slightly cloud your vision, all the hatred melting away as he continues talking. Your pussy clenches around his cock regardless of your emotions, a soft breath getting stuck in your throat.

"You want me to call you a good girl? Is that what you clench around me for?" he asks in a lower, more gentle tone, eyebrows slightly rising at your pitiful state. You bite your bottom lip, reverting your gaze away from him for a moment. He chuckles, cold thumb delicately wiping away the small tear that was rolling down your cheek.

"Remember that awful feeling, that's what you get for disobeying me. And girls who disobey me don't get to be called good for it." he continues in a silky tone, moving his hand away from your cheek and letting it fall on your bruised hip as his face softens in the feeling of victory.

His gaze remains on your mocking-worthy expression, a soft curl of his lips revealing amusement and satisfaction he was feeling. You let the feeling of defeat and humiliation spread inside your body for just a moment before you compose yourself. Your gaze pierces through him, eyebrows furrowing in faint disgust and frustration as his words repeat in your head.

You hate to admit the fact that his nasty insults make your pussy leak even more precum than before mixed with the pure desire to punish him for it. Almost mindlessly, you start bouncing on his cock in a fast, greedy manner, receiving sharp gasps of his in response. Your hand sneaks into his hair, fingers roughly pulling on his locks and forcefully pulling his head back.

A strained moan escapes your throat as you keep on moving up and down, each full thrust making your head spin as his cock pressures all of your overly sensitive spots. His fingers shakily grab on your skin, unable to make a proper grip as your ass keeps slamming on his thighs in a rough manner. He lets out breathy whimpers as your cunt keeps on sliding over his needy cock, thighs bruising from the force you were riding him with. You swallow your own moans, only a few short whines escaping your lungs as you pull his hair more, exposing his pale neck.

Your gaze falls on how the muscles of his throat strain with each sound he makes before it moves to look him into his pathetic, half-lidded eyes.

"Yeah? You want to know what you are?" you speak in a breathy, heavy manner as you keep on bouncing on his cock. You don't feel a single thing besides anger and the fast pleasure building inside your lower tummy each time he reaches your g-spot. Your hand wraps around his throat, thumb pushing his chin back as your grip on his hair tightens.

"You are my dumb little toy. Just look at yourself, getting used by me like a personal dildo." you let out a strained chuckle as you switch your movement from bouncing to grinding, your hips making quick and heavy rolls on his cock.

You let out a sharp moan as his cock perfectly pressures your sweetest spots. Fyodor lets out a mixture of strained whimpers and grunts of disagreement, clawing his way into your outer thighs. With the way your hands roughly keep him in place it's hard to speak, but you can see an obvious anger breaking through his pleasure-filled eyes.

"You are my slut. You are a dumb little manwhore who needs me. You need my pussy, don't you?" your voice is firm even though faint whimpers fill in the gaps between your words.

You let go of his hair, but your hand remains on his jaw, firmly keeping it in place as you force him to look at you. You speed up the movement of your hips, not letting the soreness of your muscles get in the way.

"Tell me. You need it, don't you? You are a pathetic creature, can't even get off without me." you chuckle as your hand slides away from his jaw, down to his throat. You wrap your hand tightly, resulting in Fyodor's eyes to roll back, heavy whimpers slipping his parted lips alongside a small amount of drool.

He shuts his eyes closed, trying to regain some strength as his fingernails leave deep marks in your skin, making it burn and ache. His cock twitches inside of you, pulsating heavily as your needy and fast grinds become unbearable for both of you. Fyodor's fingernails dig even deeper into your skin as your grip on his throat tightens, a quick gasp escaping your lips as the pain becomes sharp and unbearable. Without a thought, your free hand lands a heavy slap on his cheek, making his head turn as your grip on his throat loosens, hand falling next to your body.

He gives you a frustrated look, lips immediately finding your nipple as he begins sucking roughly on it, almost mindlessly. You let out a sharp moan, throwing your head back as your pussy keeps sliding on his throbbing cock, sending shivers up your spine.

"Yeah? Is that how your mommy used to do it? Slap you around and then give you a nipple to play with?" you give him a breathless laugh before a heavy moan cuts you off as he bites on your nipple in a harsh manner. His fingernails dig deeper into your skin, a small amount of blood rolling down the flesh of your thighs.

"Fuck!" you almost scream out as you throw your head back, both of your hands falling on and tightly squeezing his bicepses as your pace on his cock remains the same. Your cunt starts to clench and pulsate around his leaking cock, heat beneath your skin tingling in a pleasurable manner.

Fyodor keeps on sucking on your nipple, a bit gentler than before, his eyes surprisingly tearing up. He lets out soft snivels and whimpers, hot breath heating up your flesh even more as his tongue relentlessly slides over your nipple. You bring one of your hands to his cheek, rubbing soft circles in a condescending manner - just like he did to you. You regain your focus, even though the heat that keeps on swirling inside your whole body makes it quite hard.

"Ah, don't be a crybaby now. Nobody likes little dumb bitch boys who cry during sex." you say in a teasing tone, wanting to degrade him more, but he starts rolling his hips into yours, barely but enough to make you lightheaded as his cock pressures your sensitive spots more.

He lets go of your practically bruised nipple, mumbling something as he messily moves to your other one and begins sucking on it in a greedy manner. You let out louder moans as your hips keep on rolling into his, your precum leaking and spreading all over his balls. The pain in your thighs from riding him for so long and from the fact he made you bleed becomes overwhelming, but the knot inside your lower tummy urges you to suck it up.

His cock reaches the deepest spots inside of you, perfectly rubbing over your g-spot and making you beyond dizzy as your orgasm slowly approaches. Your cunt keeps involuntarily clenching and relaxing around him each time he makes a harsher suck on your nipple, sending jolts through your whole body. You let out sharp moans and gasps as Fyodor pants into your skin in-between the heavy sucks, his cock throbbing inside your leaking cunt.

You curse under your breath as the knot inside your lower tummy starts slowly unraveling, first waves of your orgasm making your thighs shake. He barely lets go of your nipple, panting and whining in a desperate manner, eyes heavy as you fuck his brain out using only your hips. Your chest feels heavy as your breathing becomes incoherent, loud gasps in and out occupying your throat as your orgasm finally unravels.

Your whole body shakes as you squirt all over his cock and balls, making his own body shake as he gets close to his own climax. The pace of your hips becomes messy, the pain finally settling in and making it hard to move as the jolts of the peak of your orgasm rush through your body. Fyodor's hands fall onto your hips, desperately trying to hold you down as pathetic whines escape his dry throat. You swiftly lift yourself away from his cock and he gasps loudly, whole body shaking as a tiny load of cum drips out of the tip of his cock and slides down his length.

He lets out shaky pants and whines, clawing into his own thighs as his release gets ruined. You quickly put on a shirt, your breathing still incoherent and heavy as you slowly stand up, pulling your panties up.

Fyodor gives you a mixture of a needy, desperate, irritated and pathetic gaze, his cock softening and twitching as your combined releases slide down his balls. He remains silent, but he brings his semi-bloody fingers close to his lips, the tip of his tongue gently licking them. You give him a dirty look, a sly smile forming on your face.

"Remember that awful feeling. That's what disobedient, disrespectful and badly behaved boys deserve." you say in a bitter tone as you pull up your pants, letting out a small yelp as it rubs over the bloody scars on your thighs.

You leave his room, letting the lovely feeling of humiliating him overflow inside of you.

You won...this time, that is.

#fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader smut #fyodor smut #fyodor x reader smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky smut #fyodor dostoevsky x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs imagines #female reader

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dosteovskys · 4 months

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QUEST COMPLETE | FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

summary: the daily quest of coaxing one fyodor dostoevsky away from his work and into bed begins.

warnings: fem!reader, fluff, nothing else, lowercase intentional + unedited.

wc: 900 ish

notes: fyodor fyodor fyodor the things i would do with your hands

fyodor dostoevsky has pretty hands.

it’s a fact that you always marveled, really. his fingers are long and thin, his skin is fair and soft—besides the tips of his fingers, which are calloused from the long hours he spends playing the cello and ridged from where he frequently bites at them. fyodor is pretty in general, but there’s something so delicate about his hands that has you charmed.

you don’t have a hand kink—you swear that you don’t. you just have a… fascination. you can’t help it that your eyes linger when you watch him do things with them, whether it be typing away at his computers doing whatever nefarious things that fyodor dostoevsky does at his computers or relaxing after long hours of working by playing the cello in your shared room. sometimes, you like to challenge him to games of chess just to watch his fingers toy with the pieces—you never win, you’re very good at chess but fyodor is on another level entirely. the only time you’ve ever come close was when he was so sick that nikolai was joking about him being on his deathbed.

you had not found it nearly as funny.

now, he’s writing some letter at his desk, grip tight on his pen and brows furrowed just a bit, meaning whatever he’s doing, he’s not having a good time with it. you peek over his shoulder, trying to read the letter, only to instantly understand why he looks so frustrated—ah, he’s trying to write in kanji, and from what you can tell by the crumpled papers on the floor next to him, he’s already restarted several times already.

you take a seat on top of the desk to his left, he barely spares you a glance, so you reach down to capture his free hand in yours, holding it in your lap. fyodor glances up at you, brows still knit together as he casts a suspicious look in your direction.

“i’m working,” he mutters.

“i’m not stopping you,” you reply.

he doesn’t look convinced, but rather than pushing, he turns his attention back to the parchment in front of him. you smile to yourself lightly, looking down at the hand laying in your lap and unfurling his fingers, running your fingers across his palm before tracing the tip of your finger down the length of each of his. you watch as his expression slowly smooths out at the feeling of your touch. no matter how much he denies needing or desiring physical comfort of any kind, his body always betrays him.

there are fresh ridges on the tip of his thumb, signaling that he’d been gnawing at it again, and you frown, lifting his hand from your lap to kiss his thumb, and then the palm of his hand, and then his wrist.

fyodor sighs, resting his pen back down on the desk and looking up at you. “you are trying to distract me, myshka,” he accuses, voice gentle but eyes sharp as he looks up at you.

“never,” you say, but your voice edges on playful and you know that he catches it, from the way his purple eyes just barely soften. “i know better than to try to drag the diligent fyodor dostoevsky from his duties.”

“liar,” he murmurs, laced with affection, lifting his hand from yours to cup the side of your face, the pads of his fingers tracing your cheekbone. you lean into his touch, eyes focusing in on his face.

there are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his skin is paler than usual. you wonder when the last time he got a full night’s rest was, you know he’s been working himself to the bone in preparation for whatever plans he has for yokohama.

“come to bed with me,” you say softly, bringing your hand up to hold his against your face, eyes partially lidded as you look down at him.

fyodor sighs, pulling his hand back and looking down at the papers on his desk—so it begins, you think, hiding the amusement that rises to your chest when you realize that your daily quest of trying to get your lover to rest is about to begin. you figure it might be a bit easier this time, because he looks extra tired, but you know better than to underestimate the sheer stubbornness that fyodor dostoevsky is capable of.

you don’t let his gaze linger away from you. you lean forward and tilt his head back up gently to force him to look at you, absently brushing a loose strand of dark hair from his face.

“please,” you add, voice barely over a whisper as your eyes meet his.

he lets out a sharp breath, averting his gaze, and you know that you won. fyodor dostoevsky is cold and resolute, driven absolutely by ambition, but he becomes far more pliant when he pushes himself beyond what his body allows him.

you smile lightly.

“i did not agree,” he says. he doesn’t even have to look at you to know you already claimed victory. but even as he says it, he’s rising to his feet and you’re looping your arms around his neck, hopping off of his desk to rise to your tip toes and press your lips against his, soft and lingering.

“i know,” you agree as you feel his hands rest on your hips.

“a nap,” he concedes. “i have to finish this by morning.”

quest complete.

#fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor fluff #fyodor dostoevsky fluff #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x you #bsd x you

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zumek0 · 6 months

Text

draft 04; dostoevsky, f.

↪︎ fluff, fedya having a soft spot for his lover, reader is sick, gn reader, written with a fem reader in mind tho, references to irl dostoevsky’s life, surprise angst at the end, mentions of death.

↝ summary: when you become ill and are unable to fall asleep, he reads to you. the action feeling both familiar and distant to him.

You sneeze. Four times, actually.

You getting sick was highly inconvenient for Fyodor, as it prevented you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Rats in the House of the Dead. He had to disregard plans and work his way around being down not only a member, but also the best assassin in the organization. Not to mention how it not only affected his organization, but also the Decay of Angels.

As annoyed as he was with the whole situation, seeing you in such a miserable state didn't bring him any kind of joy. On the contrary, he felt his heart hurt when he saw your teary eyes and heard your hoarse voice. Not that he would ever let you know that.

He stands up from his office set up and heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He can't concentrate, so he decides that he might as well check up on you. That is, of course, because he needs you to get better so you can get back to work immediately, and not because he heard you cough a little too much and a little too hard.

He places the glass on the bedside table. He hears you thank him weakly. "Are you okay?" he asks uninterestedly but scans your face for any kind of discomfort. "Tired..." you sneeze after you answer.

"Then sleep." He hands you a tissue, which you barely muster enough energy to take.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Fyodor sighs and then leaves the room. Your eyes start tearing up again, this time because you want him to stay with you. The whole image is comical: a killer as cold and ruthless as you, crying miserably because their boyfriend wouldn't spend time with them? Even if someone were to see it with their own eyes, it would be hard to believe.

Fyodor returns to the room with a book in hand. The cover torn and creased from the passage of time. It is Fyodor's favorite. Even if he rarely touched it, you knew he held a great fondness for that book in particular.

He lays down in the bed and looks at you expectantly. While your moves are slow, he waits patiently for you to make yourself comfortable against his chest. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked away slowly..."

His soft voice and regular heartbeat lulled you asleep.

A young dark haired man lies kneeling at the foot of his bed. His head is hung low and his fingers are intertwined. After he finishes his prayer with an "Amen", he gets up and heads for his mother's room.

He enters quietly and finds his father already there, sitting on a chair by his mother's side. Her head turns upon hearing the door opening and a warm yet tired smile makes home on her face.

"Fedyen'ka." Her voice, although strained and tired, sounds happy to see him. "Come here, my angel. Your father and I have something for you."

He is given a book.

On a late night while talking to his mother, he had entrusted her with the knowledge of his passion for literature. Talking about some of the books he had managed to get his hands on, weather by acquaintances of his lending him some, or by the old man in the shoe shop who let him stay a couple of hours after his work ended just so he could read some of the books that he kept in the backroom of his store. That night his mother promised him that for his sixteenth birthday, she would get him a book of his own.

She had never broken a promise, yet there were still two months until his birthday. Fyodor understood at that moment that his mother was probably going to die before that.

A simple "Thank you." is all he could muster.

That night he was unable to sleep. His father went out to tend to some business, so the house would've been completely silent if it weren't for the coughs of his mother.

He gets out of bed, grabbing the book from the wooden dresser next to the door to his room. When he enters his mother's room, the coughing stops.

"Oh, Fedechka, did I wake you up?"

"No, mother." He takes a glass of water from a table nearby and puts it up to her lips. She takes a few sips. "Are you unable to sleep?" She nods.

He leaves the glass back on the table and grabs his book. His mother's gaze follows him as he moves to sit on the chair where her husband usually sat beside her. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July..."

She falls asleep with a smile on her face as she listens to her son's voice.

Two days later, Maria Fedorovna Dostoevsky would pass away.

Fun fact: i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to understand which Russian pet names and nicknames are most common, just to end up not using any because in my head they’re already speaking Russian.

If you recognize what he's reading, ur hot. Ahhh I'm so in love with fedya, but i’m not sure if i like how this turned out...

— han.

#땡땡! han’s works #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor headcanons #fyodor fluff #fyodor imagines #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x you #bsd imagines #bsd fyodor x reader #Fyodor dostoevsky angst #fyodor angst #bsd angst #fyodor x y/n

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luvfy0dor · 19 days

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Ahemm can I request s Fyodor x reader whos also russian but speaks better Japanese then him (i find it funny he's bad at learning Japanese) ♡

“Trust Me, Mine is Better ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Japanese, cursing, not proofread

Description; Fyodors partner is also Russian, but is better with speaking Japanese and learned faster, so his partner helps him out

A/n; I wanna have a study date w him so bad omg 3:

• He'd be a teeny bit passive about it to be honest, but all in all he'd be proud of you. It's not often that he comes across someone who's better than him at anything intellectual.

ೃ⁀➷

Being in Japan with your boyfriend was lovely when he wasn't out being a terrorist. He loved to sight see whenever he left your homeland of Russia, but directions weren't his forte, nor was the Japanese language. You were able to speak it rather fluently though. You didn't have much of an accent to begin with, but however much of an accent you did have immediately disappeared when you opened your mouth to speak Japanese. He couldn't help but feel a little jealousy bubble in his chest when you could fluently speak with a random stranger in the street to ask which way something was, but he hid it well. As a matter of fact, he'd praise you.

"すみません、地下鉄の駅はどこですか?" (where is the subway station?) You asked when you stopped a man in the street, looking for a way home with your boyfriends hand in your own. You could almost feel Fyodors subtle glare gently burning through your skin like corrosives while you listened to the guy pointing you in the right direction. “ありがとう!" (Thank you) You say, giving a small nod of appreciation and leading Fyodor in the direction you were given. "Wow, Moya Lyubov, it's like you get better at speaking Japanese every day. Even your writing improves just as rapidly." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly and you gratefully accepted his compliments, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Thank you, yours does too. It's nice that we're both learning Japanese, so we can help eachother out." You say, looking at the street ahead of you, heading down a flight of stairs to a subway station.

"You sound like you're past simply learning." He says lightheartedly, a small smile on his face. You look over to him and nod. "I mean, I can get around, but I still have so much to learn and that's okay- Fedya, oh my gosh! We could have cute study dates together!! A lot of people do stuff like that in highschool or college, but since we were never together during either of those, we could do, like, a mock-study date." You say, excited by your new, groundbreaking idea. He seems amused by your enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. “I wouldn't mind being taught how to speak and write better as long as it's by you. Other people are much more condescending and teasing." He says. You could only imagine he was referring to Nikolai after watching him show the clown a paper with large Japanese symbols written on the paper, to which Nikolai started giggling and asked him what the fuck it was supposed to be.

Needless to say that was the last time Fyodor turned to Nikolai for constructive criticism, he wrote him off as unhelpful in this manner. Instead he'd only get it from native speakers or people who are, in his eyes, fluent in the language. They could give him real advice. But since you were proposing a study date with him where he could get constructive advice from you and do some more learning of the language in his own way, there was no reason to pass that opportunity up. You both agreed on the next evening after he got home from a DOA meeting, and it was more than pleasant. You both laid in each other's presence, practicing your writing, doing Duolingo lessons here and there, and etc. You eventually got bored, craving your lovers attention instead of knowledge. You leaned over and brushed his hair away from his face before whispering into his ear. “キスしてもいいですか?" His eyebrows furrow and his head turns to face you.

"Can you what?" His words are slightly slurred together with his accent and sleepiness. His lips are pink and clearly chewed with focus and frustration and his eyelids are droopy. "Can I kiss you?" You repeat in English. His eyes widen and he grins, reaching out to cup your face, pulling you in. "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Moya Lyubov." He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet yours, moving them together and rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You entangle your fingers in his hair and part, taking a quick breath of air and resting your forehead against his. "I know, I just figured I'd give you a new phrase in Japanese." He laughs and pulls you into his thin body. "Who else would I need to say it to?" His hands rubbed up and down your back. "No one, but still- just let me be flirty while staying on topic, alright?" You say with a laugh, twirling his hair around your finger. Not to say neither of you learned anything during your study date, but just in case Fyodor didn't, he now knew how to ask to kiss you.

A/n; sorry this post is like an hour later than usual my bad chat ☹️

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helplesspuppet-bsd · 2 months

Text

They take care of you when you’re on your period

Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor

Fem! Reader, Comfort, ooc(?), minor mention of suicide (it’s Dazai)

Chuuya

Chuuya noticed almost at once that something was off when he ran into you during work. He went over to say a quick ‘hello’ wanting to know how your day was. But you only seemed to hide yourself from him.

“Y/n!” Chuuya called out as he walked over to his beautiful girlfriend, you didn’t turn to turn to face him, you didn’t want him to see you like this, you had finished crying at the pain your cramps had given you, and not just wanting to go to the store to get painkillers.

You felt his hand on your shoulder “Baby...?” His voice was laced with concern and confusion. He remembered you acting normal this morning.

‘Did something happen? Is she okay? Why is she hiding her face from me? Why isn’t she responding to me’ Those were the thoughts that went through Chuuya’s head before trying again “Baby... Why won’t you turn to face me?” His voice was now smooth, while still having that concern for you, Chuuya showed little care about showing affection to you in public at that moment when you still didn’t respond to him, his relationship with you was well known in the mafia, they knew you came first above all in his eyes.

Chuuya had begun to place light kisses on your neck and behind your ear while his hands rested on the top of your arms, his touch was gentle has he whispered in your ear “Please... Look at me...” Chuuya’s silent plea was only for you to hear. Your body was relaxed with everything he was doing.

You did not notice him turn you around to look at him until you were looking at his face “Baby... Are you alright?” Chuuya asked, his voice soft and caring. You looked away in embarrassment “I’m fine, Chuuya.” You responded in a mumble as you avoided making eye contact with him. Chuuya sighed, he didn’t believe a word of that, but he had a job he should be doing “We’ll talk when we get back” Chuuya said as he placed a quick kiss on the back of your hand and went back to the men working under him.

Later that night, Chuuya was home a bit later than usual, you were curled up on your and Chuuya’s shared bed, taking all the coves and wrapped in a cocoon. You heard Chuuya’s footsteps and the scent of soup, the door opened “I figured this was the case” Chuuya said as he walked in the room, using his foot close the door as he carried a tray with soup, water and antibiotics. He placed the tray on the bedside table and sat down next to where you laid.

“How...?” You asked with meek voice, you didn’t look up at him as Chuuya let out a laugh “Baby, we have been together for almost a year now, I think I can notice a pattern between a normal day, and when your body decides to betray you.” Chuuya said as he put his hands through your hair. He stared at you for a minute “Alright Y/n, sit up.” Chuuya ordered as he placed his hand under you, ready to help you sit up.

After a minute you, with Chuuya’s help, sat up. Chuuya picked up the tray and placed it on her lap, “Come on, eat up baby.” Chuuya said as he urged you to eat the soup. His smile was everything when you looked up at him, that smile, the smile he gave you as his eye was filled with nothing but adoration. That smile would make you melt. You brought the bowl closer to you and began eating the soup. Chuuya watched you eat the soup as he kept that smile on his face, you see the antibiotics on a small plate the tray with water next to it.

“I didn’t know if you were in any pain still, so... I wanted to be safe.” Chuuya admitted as he watched you put the tray to the side, “I love you...” You whispered as tears fell down your face, Chuuya placed his gloved hands on your cheeks, holding your face in his palms, as you sobbed “I love you so much...” You said again as Chuuya soon placed kisses on your face, laying down on the bed with you, his arms now wrapped around you.

“Don’t cry baby...” Chuuya whispered in your ear as you relaxed in his arms, your eyes growing heavier as you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep in Chuuya’s arms.

This brutal and ruthless mafia man quickly melts into your soft boyfriend whenever he is home with you, no matter for how long that is.

Dazai

Dazai was always one to know when something was wrong, mainly because you make it obvious to him. “Dazai...” You whine as you wrap your arms around his waist. You didn’t want him to leave yet, “Y/n...” Dazai repeated, copying the whiney voice you were playing on your own voice “Do you want anything?” Dazai then asked in his normal smooth voice. “Yes... The sweet embrace of death.” You mumble, before you hear Dazai give out a light chuckle “Tempting... But I’m not going to commit a double suicide with you just yet.” Dazai said as you pried himself off you “But, I can get you some antibiotics.” Dazai said as he walks into the kitchen.

He came back a minute later with medicine and a glass of water. He gave them to you and sat back down next to you as you took the medicine. You wrapped your arms around Dazai, and he returned that.

“You’re staying because you want to annoy Kunikida, don’t you?” You whisper as you relax in his arms “No. I just want to make sure you are okay before I leave” Dazai said as he tried not to make it obvious that he was, even though there was truth in what he was saying as he placed soft kisses on your head as it rested against Dazai’s stomach, as he petted your head “You’re terrible at lying to me Dazai.” You whispered as you enjoy the affection Dazai gave you. As you close your eyes, falling asleep again, while hearing “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

It had been only an hour or two before you woke up, you weren’t in Dazai’s arms anymore. Instead, you heard Kunikida’s annoyed voice talking to Dazai. You stood up and walked over to the in the bedroom “Kunikida?” You mumble as you see an angry Kunikida held Dazai by the collar of his shirt.

“Oh... Good Morning Y/n.” Kunikida greeted as if he wasn’t holding your boyfriend “Um... I’m sorry, it’s my fault for keeping Dazai here.” You apologized while giving a small bow of respect towards him “Wait, you were being serious Dazai?” Kunikida said as he let go of Dazai “Of course I was.” Dazai responded “You see, Y/n over here wasn’t feeling well this morning, and I wanted to take care of her.” Dazai said as he went over to you again “You make it sound like I’m sick.” You say with almost as a question.

“What? Of course you are!” Dazai said as he placed his hand on your head as you just stared at him like you were going to kill him. Kunikida left at that point, getting the main gist of what Dazai meant by ‘not feeling well’

Dazai, seeing that he doesn’t have any backup in this situation, he had one more trick up his sleeve, as he placed his hand on your cheek “Come on... You know you can’t be mad at me forever.” Dazai said as he brought his face closer to yours, as a blush appeared on your face “You’re just using this as an excuse to stay off work.” You said as you pushed him away but allowed him to have his arms wrapped around your waist. “Come on, wouldn’t you like to have me for a whole day” Dazai teased as he quickly stole a kiss from you, his reason to live.

Dazai picked you up and brought you back to bed, “Now... I’m going to go and get something for us to eat, let me know if you need anything.” Dazai said before he left to the kitchen.

You could only give a smile as he walked away.

You loved your suicidal maniac. Even with all his quirks.

Fyodor

You had stayed in bed, rarely getting up for anything, you were in so much pain. It stared later in the day, after Fyodor disappeared to work, you doubt he would’ve come out until the ungodly hours of the night.

You didn’t hear the door open or close, nor did you hear footsteps come closer to you until you felt the weight on the bed shift. You turned to see Fyodor’s face “Fyodor?” You mumbled, it was loud enough for him to hear, “You haven’t come in yet, Lyubov.” Fyodor was normally a cold, unfeeling man.

“Oh...” You replied as you had just realized the time it was late in the afternoon. “What is wrong?” Fyodor asked, he was not an idiot, you knew you couldn’t lie to him, but you were also embarrassed about it.

“Lyubov?” He leaned in closer to you, his sharp eyes pierced through yours. “It’s embarrassing, Fyodor.” You whispered as you looked at him, he only looked at you for a moment before leaning forward to place a light kiss on your temple. “I’ll be back, Moya Lyubov.” Fyodor said before he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

It took him until the early hours of the night before he returned, with a bag of food for you, there was a lot of it, as the mere sight caused your mouth to water and your stomach to rumble. Fyodor only let out a small chuckle as he sat on the bed again, he took out some a box, it was a Japanese take out, sushi mostly. You sat up and looked at him with a questioning look.

Normally, Fyodor wouldn’t bring the address that he and you live at for anything, it confused you. Fyodor picked up on your confusion and only said “I asked a colleague of mine to bring it.” That made more sense to you, but, nonetheless, she was happy that Fyodor did this for her. You ate the sushi that Fyodor gave you, he looked at you while smiling. “I must say... Your beauty increases whenever I see that face of pleasure you hold” Fyodor flirted as he watches you with admiration.

“Darling... I must go grab something.” Fyodor said as he walked to the door, opening it, and mentioning as he left the room, “It will not be long. I will be back soon.” You could hear the amusement in Fyodor’s voice, as well as his smile. You continued to eat, even as Fyodor came back in a minute later. You heard something being put on the ground, as a familiar tune starts to play.

You looked up at him and saw that he brought his cello into the room, you watched as he played the song you’ve heard him play so many times, yet he never tells you the name of. “You never tell me what you play whenever I am not at my greatest Fyodor.” You say, as his eyes are closed as he expertly played the cello, being confident that he can play without looking at the chords he is playing.

He only chucked as he looked at you with his usual smile “It is only a simple melody. Nothing much to the average person, at once myself. But you love it so much I cannot help but relate it to our love” Fyodor answered, his eyes held nothing but love for the woman in front of him as his expression softened.

“But even then... Nothing could describe my love for the angel god sent down to me. The love that courses through my very body for you. It makes me forget about being both crime and punishment. You are the one thing I cannot afford to lose” Fyodor said, he kept playing, kept looking at you, as you stared back at him, your eyes are filled with love, you felt tears rolling down your cheeks.

Fyodor let the melody play out before he walked over to you “Does my words of truth make you feel so many emotions it brings you to tear?” Fyodor asked as he sat down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb to wipe the tears that fell down your face. “I wonder what my kiss would do to you right now.” Fyodor teased before he chuckled and went in to kiss your lips. You couldn’t help but melt into it, his cold hands felt heavenly as he held your face.

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justcallmesakira · 12 days

Note

"she chose me" Fyodor stated "did she" dazais voice cut his off, a rat-eating grin on his face

😏

I LOVE THESE TYPE OF ASKS SEND MORE GUYS I AM ON MY KNEES x grr ERRRR

They would THEY WOULD and like the way fyodors smirk would downward for just a bit just a bit.

And he will definitely glare at dazai when dazai leans down to give a quick peck on your neck

NO BECAUSE THIS WOULD HAPPEN IN HIGHSCHOOL AU THO-

#They r ao #fyozai x reader #Bsd fyozai #Fyodor x readee #Fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x you #bsd dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd x gn reader #fyodor bsd

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nightsadness · 24 days

Text

Can I come with you?

Tags: fem!reader, angst

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem!reader

Warning: The death of a canon character, the reader longs greatly. There may be errors in the text, as I am not a native English speaker, I often had to use the help of a translator

A/n: I was inspired by the song "Ap$ent - Можно я с тобой? (Can I come with you?)" and wrote this headcanon based on the verses of that wonderful song. As I wrote above, I don't speak English, so I used a lot of translators, trying to write normally 😞. Please let me know if it's really bad.

Горят фонари Я бы до зари с тобой мог говорить

The street lights are on

I'd chat you up till dawn

Though you were no match for Dostoevsky in intellect, Fyodor thought you were an smart person with whom he could have a good conversation. In those rare moments when the man gave you time, you could talk for hours, mostly on quiet evenings, against the window, which was not covered by curtains, and thanks to this, the room was illuminated only by the bright light of the moon, giving its own special, peaceful atmosphere.

Но тебе снова пора Как всегда, какие-то дела с утра But it's high time for you to be gone

You've got work to do, as well known

You and Fyodor spent very little time together. You didn't like it, but there was nothing you could do about it. After all, Dostoevsky was obsessed only with his goal, and it was his first priority. You couldn't deny it. And you, no matter what, wanted to be with him and always waited for him.

Longing was your frequent companion when you felt the lack of a man's attention, but you didn't bother him, realizing the importance of his "purpose" realizing how much own plans meant to him. Every day you woke up and went to sleep alone. Though there were exceptions when Fyodor lay down with you, but, as a rule, in the early morning he was no longer in bed. And those moments were so rare that you could count them on your fingers.

Да, тут так себе вайб Видимо, пора. Ну что ж, бывай, родны край!

Yes, the vibes here're better be kept at bay

So, my land, bye-bye! Seams, it's time to go away...

That was the day. The day when you saw Fyodor for the last time in your life, but you hoped with all your might that it wasn't true. You couldn't even sleep for a few nights, thinking about him all the time. And you were not comforted by the thought that Fyodor was so damn cunning and clever, and he always had everything under control. Every day was a nightmare for you, because those damned thoughts were tormenting you from the inside.

По кустам ночной тропой Да, план отстой. Nocturnal trail is truly long

Yes, the plan is sucks

You heart sank into my heels, and there was a look of pure shock mixed with sadness on my face. You didn't want to believe that Fyodor was dead. How, HOW the hell could this have happened? Your breathing quickened at the news, and you fell helplessly to your knees, clutching your head with your hands. You'd always known his plan was a really sucks, and you'd even said Fyodor about it. But he didn't care what you thought of his goal.

To get your thoughts together, you decided to go for a walk. It was a blue night and a cool breeze was blowing. That's what you needed..

Всё давно позади Но зато есть вспомнить что и что обсудить

All in the past, the deeds we tried

But there are things to call to mind

It had been about six months, but you still wanted to be with Fyodor, to hold him again, to kiss him, to listen to him. You missed his attention, which he gave you, though rarely, but still gave it to you. Maybe he didn't really love you, and you were just a pawn...or maybe not? But that didn't bother you much. You wanted to be with him and only him. It's hard without him. So hard, such unbelievable pain. Every single day you remembered all the moments with him, that was your only consolation.

Если решишь уйти на покой Вдруг раньше, чем я — постой

If you decide to leave peace

before I do, hold on...

One day you were sitting on the roof of a high-rise building, looking up at the night sky, rubbing the pendant that Dostoevsky had given you. You never took it off, especially since the man was gone from your life. The longing was eating you from the inside out, but you had to be strong! Hah....You couldn't. Or just didn't want to, who knows. Your gaze was downward, the city seemed so small, and people walked around below like ants. Building was too high and you were sitting on the very edge. but it didn't scare you.

— Можно я с тобой?

#Spotify #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor bsd x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

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asimpforyagami · 2 days

Note

hii Mel I love your writing and I hope you're having a great week <3

could you do Fyodor with number 12? Please.

↷ A/N ─ this was already asked but with a bunch of other prompts, so this is sort of like a solo for the 12th prompt. the other post is here.

★ PROMPT ─ 12

!! FT. ─ fyodor

─ styling his hair in silly ways

You shook your legs around from your position on his lap.

"Don't do that," Fyodor said calmly, and you paused before resuming it again.

"I'm bored."

Fyodor sighed. Being with you was like babysitting a child, he thought.

"Well, what would you like to do, myshka?"

You sat upright on his lap and took the clips and hair tie on your hair off.

"Welcome to my parlour. What hairstyle would you like to get?"

Fyodor blinked at you, startled, before replying, "The one you like."

You nodded and immediately began to work, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tying it in a small ponytail. It was as if his hair was made to be styled. You sighed dreamily as you leaned away to look at him after finishing.

He had a little ponytail surrounded by little pink Hello Kitty clips that you had bought, not for yourself, just for this occasion. You stifled a laugh before pulling out your phone and immediately snapping a picture.

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angelsrcute · 23 days

Text

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 2 years

Text

Frustrated For You

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs Pairings: Fyodor X Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Angst Format: Short Fic Warnings: Reader sitting on Fyodor's lap, not in a suggestive way Word Count: 0.8K A/n: I'm not falling for him I'm not falling for him I'm not falling for him- Dammit; I think I've fallen for him 🚶🏻‍♀️

The light sounds of turning pages was the only thing filling the room, and was the only reason you felt this miserable at the moment. Your eyes were located on the dark-haired man sitting farther on his chair with his back facing you, thinking when was he going to stop working and pay attention to you, who had been waiting for him since… how long? You didn't exactly recall, since you always lost track of everything once you became alone with him. Nobody could understand how you loved him this deeply, to the point that you were happily willing to give up on anyone and anything just to help him fulfil his goals, not even you yourself; but you did knew something,

That he definitely didn't plan on doing the same thing.

God you felt so stupid, always waiting around for him, thinking when would he finally take a glance at you. You hated how naïve and dumb you were, clinging onto him all the time, begging him to spend some time with you for a while, and it was never enough; not because you were asking for too much, but because the only thing he did was using you to his advantage, and then leaving you behind, broken. How could you expect anything more from him? You being so pure and unsophisticated was probably the reason he got attracted to you in the first place. You deserved more than that; more than being manipulated into doing things against your will, more than sitting in a dark, empty office at 3AM, hoping that maybe your busy boyfriend would spare you a glimpse, probably out of pity or worse, by accident. You hated how desperate you were for his attention. You hated how your cheeks heated up every time you spotted his eyes on yourself. You hated how the slightest touch of him sent shivers down your spin. You hated how your body ached for him, and you hated how he never satisfied your cravings. You hated that all you could think about was how you wanted him to cage you between his arms, squeezing you as hard as he was able to as you melted from the inside. You hated this. You hated him. Unlike him who was rigorously concentrating on whatever he was reading, your expression was blank; staring at him for a long time without even blinking, like you were some type of statue. You kept telling yourself how much you loathed him, and how much you loathed yourself for being this frustrated for someone like him; but deep down, very deep down, you knew it was a lie; another lie you told yourself, just to keep your dignity from breaking any further. You knew it was nothing but some meaningless words you told yourself to maybe feel a little bit better, but it was all a lie, because you were aware of his condition. You could tell how pale his skin had became, after days of nonstop working without taking a bit of a rest, how he always had dark circles under his eyes in in the morning, and how he nearly fainted doing the tiniest bit of physical activity. Maybe he was suffering as much as you were, but he was just a pro at keeping it all to himself, thinking it's better this way for the both of you. Maybe he cared for you, more than you could ever imagine; or else there would never be a reasonable explanation for how you always woke up covered in a blanket after falling asleep waiting for him at the office. Just… how much complicated and mysterious could he be already…? You slowly got up, walking toward the man you adored with your whole life. The sound of your gentle footsteps made Fyodor raise his head a bit to see why you were attempting to distract him from work as you usually did, but he was surprised when he felt your hands on his shoulders, depending on them to make place for yourself on his lap.

"Myshka?…" You didn't answer to his call. Instead, you wrapped you arms around him like your life depended on it, inhaling his addictive scent as your tears found their way to your cheeks. His body tensed a little bit from your sudden arrival, but relaxed in advance, once he got used to the delightful warmness of your small figure curled up on his lap. Your fingertips slowly running around his skin felt so nice, making butterflies fly in his stomach. "I'm sorry, Fedya… I'm really sorry…" I'm sorry for falling this hard for you, to the point that I want our souls to become sole. It was a matter of time when you felt his right hand delicately holding your waist, slightly drawing unmeaningful patterns. His only relief was that you couldn't see how much of a blushing mess you made him to be, since your face was buried in the crook of his neck. You planted a small, but affectionate kiss on his temple, pressing yourself to his chest wishing everyday would end in something like this. If only time could stop when I buried myself into you… Your negative or maybe substantive thoughts could never matter at all; as long as you get to be stuck with a glorious mess, like him.

Reblogs are appreciated! :)

#AshTheMadWriter #bsd x you #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #fyodor fluff #fyodor imagines #fyodor scenario #fyodor x fem!reader #fyodor dostoevsky x you #fyodor dostoesvky x y/n #decay of angels

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