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#fyodor imagines
honeydazai · 3 months
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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  sharing a bed with them 𓏸
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma
content: pre-relationship bed sharing, flirty/mildly sexual implications
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It's truly unfortunate that, while on a mission for the Agency, you have to share a bed with DAZAI — or so you think, at least. He doesn't share the sentiment in the slightest, instead smiling as innocently as possible the moment his gaze falls onto the single bed in the hotel room booked for the night. While he pretends to offer you the bed, he'll guilt-trip you about the couch being way too short for his long legs and about his back already aching until, eventually, you give in and share it with him.
Naturally, he gets into your space more than necessary at night, pretending he's asleep while cuddling close to you, given how, then, you can't cuss him out for wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your neck, breath warm against your throat. It's worse that he knows if you won't get any amount of sleep whatsoever, much too busy with fighting off arousal while he's pressed flush against your back.
“Hm? No, it's alright. I don't mind taking the couch. What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on there? Still, it's just — it's way too short and hard. Couches this uncomfortable shouldn't exist, really. I doubt I'll be able to get even a wink of sleep tonight, what a shame.”
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When there turns out to only be one bed in the hotel room you're supposed to stay in for the night, CHŪYA doesn't even hesitate before offering you the bed, immediately going for the couch instead. He won't accept any protests either; no matter whether you're worried about his comfort or just think it's polite to refuse his offer, he won't allow you to spend the night on a sofa. He's not making a huge deal out of it and, if you keep being annoying about it, he gets more and more exhausted by the minute.
Eventually, he might give in to the idea of sharing the bed. He has no trouble keeping to himself — or so he believes, because, once he's actually asleep, softly snoring into your ear, he's moving wildly, one leg eventually thrown over your body, arms stretched out. If you mention it to him in the morning, his cheeks flush soft pink.
“Hm? The fuck you mean, you'll be taking the sofa? Definitely not. I'm already here — and I don't mind. Go lie down and get some sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”
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RANPO, the very moment he steps foot into the room, decides he wants the bed to himself. The idea of taking the couch doesn't even cross his mind; instead, he makes his way over to the bed all too quickly, though, when you end up either glaring at him or asking him to share, he just shrugs.
Really, he doesn't make too big of a deal out of sharing a bed, not even seeming a little nervous at the idea of lying down beside you for hours on end. Meanwhile, at night, he cuddles up close to you — actually asleep, unlike a certain someone —, arms wrapped around you, for once completely unaware of you being all flustered because of him. In the morning, it'll be like nothing happened, even though you can't quite stop thinking about
“What are you looking at me like that for? I said we can share. If you're hoping to have it for yourself, tough luck. I was here first, just saying. Just get in or move to the couch already, I'm tired.”
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All of FYODOR'S decisions are based on logic; this one is no exception. If the bed is large enough to fit two people, it's large enough for the two of you to share — though, if you feel like taking the couch instead, he won't protest. That's your decision to make, after all.
While actually sharing the bed with him, it's basically like you're alone in there, anyway. He doesn't move when asleep, doesn't make a sound; it's all too easy to imagine he's not even there, even though, occasionally, a dark strand of hair might brush against your face. What you don't know, however, is that he, at night, while you're fast asleep, he takes the time to watch you up close, lilac eyes tracing over every plane of your face.
“I do not mind sharing the bed with you. I hope you feel similarly. We both are adults, are we not? I doubt this will be an issue. Just lie down.”
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NIKOLAI is undoubtedly amused by the idea of sharing a bed with you. He doesn't waste a single thought towards either of you taking the sofa instead; nonsense, just why would you do that? There's a perfectly fine bed right there, and surely both of you are mature enough to share one without any issues, right? Wrong.
He makes a point of being as obnoxious as possible, cuddling close to you the very second you lie down. It doesn't help that he's both tall and strong, his arms closed around your waist so you can't even try to get away or up, and he makes a point of whining whenever you attempt to squirm away. It's going to be a long night.
“What's the matter? Why are you moving so much? Stop it, I won't be able to fall asleep this way. Or — ah, are you trying to rile me up on purpose? That's naughty of you, sweetheart.”
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SIGMA immediately makes a beeline for the couch the second he notices the dilemma of having a double bed rather than two separate ones booked. He won't even discuss the topic with you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to sleep on a sofa, so he'll do it instead. There's no whining or guilt tripping from his end; he simply accepts his fate for the night. There's worse things to endure.
If you're incredibly serious about convincing him, however, he might just give in, even though his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual when he lies down next to you, making sure there's an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's you thinking he's trying to be creepy after you've decided to trust him — he probably ends up barely getting any sleep, just because he's worried about accidentally getting too close to you.
“Are you sure you're alright with this? I really don't mind spending the night on the sofa instead. ... Well, if you're sure — thank you.”
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NEW POST AGAIN FINALLY AA my commissions are open, by the way!! dm me if interested! 💜
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tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @Chxrry-doll @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha
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cheriiyaya · 3 months
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 uh oh, what do the BSD boys do when they're a little too jealous of the attention you're getting?
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Contents: Fyodor, dazai, and chuuya x Fem!reader (separately), sfw but suggestive (except in fedya's bc he's a "good christian"),they all wanna kill the guy "flirting" w you (fyodor actually kills him lmfao), uh not proofread so excuse any spelling errors, kinda a test run for me writing for fyodor, reader knows Russian in fedya's part, fyodor being kiiinda manipulative, religious themes in fedyas
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 A/N: was this an excuse for me to write them a lil possessive?...yeah it was. anyways this is my first time writing something suggestive so i hope it's good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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Dazai Osamu
Dazai is indeed, a rather selfish man. While he's not so selfish as to be extremely possessive of you, he does get jealous. Most of the time it's petty; small pouts and whines that are easily remedied when you pepper kisses onto his face and spoil him with your attention that he loves so much.
this was not one of those times. Right now, he can't believe what he's seeing:
A client of the detective agency, flirting with you.
Dazai watches in cold silence as the man laughs at something you said The man leans over a little too close for dazai's liking and whispered something in your ear, causing you to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh.
If he was his teen self, dazai would've stuck bullet after bullet in the man's head.
He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes in your direction, trying to pull you attention away from that man and towards him with some unknown pull. But you were too engrossed in conversation to notice, fluttering pretty lashes with every blink of your eyes and tilting your head in that endearing way as the man was telling you something..
There was a sensible part in dazai's mind that told him that you weren't reciprocating the man's advances, saying that it wasn't that big of a deal, but he couldn't ignore the curl and twist in is stomach and heart watching you and this man.
Then after a minute or two he just couldn't take it.
He gets up from his desk abruptly, ignoring the few pens and papers that fell off his desk as he strides behind you. He plants his chin on the crown of your head, cocking a lopsided smile that read more like a hidden threat towards the man.
"Bella'! Ah, socializing I see, aren't we?" He runs his bandaged hands down your arms, squeezing the squishy flesh on your upper forearm. His eyes were trained on the client, who was now blinking, looking at you then at dazai for a few time before realizing his error. The man scrambles up, chuckling awkwardly before walking away, and from the look on his blood-drained face you can tell he'll probably ask another one of the detectives in the agency to help with his case.
Once the man leaves you look up at dazai, a crease forming in between your furrowed eyebrows." Osam-" You were cut off by a sharp kiss, dazai hooking a finger under your chin and drawing you closer to him. Letting out a muffled cry of surprise, you try to pull away, which succeeded doing absolutely nothing. With a breathy shudder dazai digs his nails into your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest and teeth nipping your bottom lip which elicits a soft whine from the back of your throat. He presses his lips onto yours roughly, sucking away the breath in your lungs and only pulling away when he's red in the cheeks and breathless. He pulls away slowly and you draw in a shaky breath through swelling and parted lips, the world around you spinning and your limbs trembling furiously. He runs a thumb over your bottom lip, rubbing it and pressing down onto its soft plush. Dazai draws you close and whispers against your ear, breath brushing against your neck and causing your hair to stand up on end as he speaks;
"My, my bella', seems like you've forgot who's girl you are, hm? Don't worry, I'll make you remember soon enough, juuust wait."
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Nakahara Chuuya
Oh god he was so going to kill mori after this.
The two of you were sent on a mission to collect information from a man, which landed the you two in an expensive bar in the heart of Yokohama.
He's repeating the same few words over and over again in his head like a mantra: "it's only a mission, it's only a mission" as he watches you sit flush besides the target, a young man in his late twenties.
But he felt seething envy curl up like flames in his stomach and sear his thrumming heart.
"No, it's just the alcohol." He mumbles, taking a sip of the expensive wine he had ordered, his thoughts drowning out the noisy chatter of people and music and the bright lights of the bar to an incessant buzz. He wasn't...envious or anything. That's quite stupid you don't even like that man! Yet he just can't help but look at the two of you, the way your pretty lips curled into that sweet smile chuuya loves so much as you placed a hand on the man's arm and giggled bashfully at whatever joke the man had told you.
Probably wasn't even that funny. Chuuya bites down on his tongue, resisting the urge to pull you away from that man as he took a sip of the wine that burned down his throat and settled a warmth in the pit of his stomach.
That warmth that brought drowsiness did not help the flare of envy chuuya felt as the man tugs you onto his lap. The man had one hand just under your ribcage and one in between your shoulder blades, tugging you close to him and whispering against your ear.
Bad idea. A very bad idea indeed.
In a flash chuuya weaved his way through the crowd of patrons-or rather shoved his way through with no regards to anyone-over beside you and glared at the man, eyes piercing holes into the man as he pulled you off his lap.
"Don't ya think you're a little to drunk doll?" He chuckles, but he did a terrible job at hiding the bitterness in his voice. This was so stupid, it would jeopardize the whole mission but chuuya didn't care;
Right now, the only thing on his mind was you and jealousy.
You look up at him, blinking and opening your mouth to protest against your alleged intoxicated state when chuuya pulled your through the crowd of people by the arm and out into the cool night street. Once out, you looked at chuuya with wide eyes and mouth agape from shock.
"Chuuya! What are you doing, you could've ruined the mission!" You scoff, blinking a few times before realizing something from his silence and the stare he's giving you.
"You're jealo-" Your chuckle of disbelief was cut off by his lips meeting yours, chuuya pulling closer to him. He mumbles in between kisses, ranging from short and sweet to hungry and harsh. A gloved thumb dragged from the corner of your mouth to your cheekbone as chuuya pulls away from your lips to leave desperate kisses over your face and jaw. Somehow in the midst your fingers found their place tangled in messy ginger strands and you only realized this fact once he pulls away, leaving you breathless with redden cheeks.
"Ha, can't believe some guy would try to take this sight from me, huh pretty girl? Better keep you by me all times now, can't let some guy think he has a chance with my sweet girl."
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Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor is no jealous man. Envy was one of the seven cardinal sins, and Fyodor was a man of God. Besides, what is there to be jealous of for a man like him?
Until, he feels an unfamiliar feeling stir inside him as he sees you with another man as you waited for Fyodor.
The way your face lights up in that way when you flash a mirthful smile to that man as the two of you chat about some mundane things. The way delicate fingers tuck stray strands of hair from your face and hold them there as you talk to this stranger causes fyodor to feel something that he hadn't felt in a while (or perhaps just blocked out).
You hadn't realized fyodor coming up behind you until you felt him tap you your shoulder.
"Ah, who is this, milaya?" He smiles in that unnerving way, not the soft smile he'd give you after you beg him to take so rest from his work. This smile read more as a threat.
To you or to the man you were speaking to, you couldn't tell.
Fyodor tugs you to his side, quickly telling the man you were waiting for him before he pulls you along with him.
"Who was that? What were you telling him myshka?" He spoke in Russian, the sharp pronunciation vibrating off the walls of your ears.
"mh, just a man, Fedya. Why?" You tilt your head, furrowing your eyebrows. He sighs and smooths his thumb over the crease, offering a smile to ease your troubled expression
"Ah, just worried. Don't talk to strangers, who knows what kind of intentions they may have." Intentions such as distancing you from him. He brings your hand up to his mouth,, gently kissing your knuckles and rubbing soothing circles onto your palm.
No matter, there would be no way anyone would take you away from him. You were his little doll.
The next day, Fyodor offers to stay inside all day saying that he wished to spend time with you.
How naive for you to believe that, instead he kept you in to keep you unaware of the news of the man dead on the banks of a river.
Wrath, another cardinal sin yet there was no sin great enough that Fyodor wouldn't commit to keep you.
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©Cheriiyaya 2024
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n0cturnalcm · 5 months
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Fyodor Rusreal college au
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coolyiooo · 5 months
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BSD Men : Hooking Up As Enemies/ Rivals
Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, Chuuya, and Sigma
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❗WARNINGS❗: SMUT, MDNI, blindfold, scratching, degrading, praise, biting, pulling, breeding kink, whimpering, moaning, cock warming, overstimulation, choking, etc
🖤DAZAI 🖤
You never liked Dazai. If you were being honest the only thing you liked about him was his looks. Dazai was annoying, sneaky and treated you like shit which made the thought of him disgusting. He was never too fond of you either, yet he also found you pretty attractive. Thus you both somehow found yourselves having sex.
Dazai was on top of you with his cock thrusting deeply into you. He hit every sensitive part of you skillfully which made it hard for you to quiet your moans. Your wet, tight cunt made him grip onto the bed sheets. He didn't think you'd feel this fucking good and it was almost like you were made for his cock.
He was panting slightly "Squeezing me so tightly? And I thought you hated my guts ngh~ but now I'm literally in them~" he smirks
You felt embarrassed by his words and decided to flip yourself over to jump on his cock. You felt better seeing him beneath you and be in a more vulnerable position, but his smirk didn't go away
He put his hands on your hips and looked down to see his cock rub in and out of your tight pussy "Heh~ you look good jumping on my cock like a desperate whore"
"Shut up, It's because you weren't doing that good of a job so I had to take control" you struggled trying not to moan
"Is that so? Hah~ then let me make it up to you since I'm oh so sorry" He flipped you over again, this time pinning your arms above your head as he thrusted deeper into you making you slip out a loud moan
He smiles "You just didn't like me on top, huh? You didn't like how good my cock feels?" He teases you
You looked away from embarrassment and quietly said "Too.. deep- mmn~"
He smiles "Just be honest and say nobody has ever made you feel this good~"
You gave him a fiery look "Mmn~ Shut up and just fuck me"
He didn't like this attitude of yours and decided to just suddenly cock warm himself.
"Idiot, what are you doing?" You asked
"I just thought it'd be nice to hear you beg~ "
"Uh- there's no way" you gave him a disgusted look
He then does 4 deep, fast thrusts into you making you want more and whimper "Come on, tell me you want it~" he says in a low voice and a smirk
You grumbled and looked away. It took you a couple seconds to say something "please...don't stop"
"Hmm? Say it louder~" his smirk becomes wider
You looked at him with an angry look holding back from slapping him. You hate to admit it, but he really was the only man who's ever actually pleased you "please don't stop. I want more" you said trying not to sound too vulgar
He smiles and begins to fuck you relentlessly. His cock hitting deep inside you while throbbing. You both gasp a moan. His grip on your wrists tightened more as you arched your back. Your breasts becoming more perky and drawing his attention
"S-shit hah~ I guess your good with at least one thing" he groans
You started to smirk "Your throbbing so much mmn~ do I make you feel that good~?" You taunted
He then puts a hand around your throat as a way to shut you up, making you tightened more around him
He pants "Your about to cum aren't you?"
"Not even close" you managed to say
He tilts his head "Then this shouldn't be a problem for you"
His thrusts become animalistic and rough, hitting your g-spot which felt like every millisecond. You felt a huge wave of pleasure wash over you and felt your climax coming rapidly "AAH~! F-fuck- w-wait~!"You then came on his cock as you moaned loudly. Twitching and clenching around him.
He smiled while his cock throbbed "look at that~ cumming all over my cock? Ngh~ Didn't you just say I wasn't any good?"
You couldn't even form a sentence and just moaned loudly from over stimulation. Your pitiful moans drove him over the edge. He hated how amazing you felt and how he found his release so quickly "Fuck... Ngh~ fucking shit~!" He moans
With a couple more thrusts, he pulled out of you and came all over your body with a loud groan. His cum was on your stomach, chest, and face. You almost wanted to smirk at how much he came from having sex with you, but you were still calming down from your own climax, too out of breath to make a snarky comment
He smirks while panting "You look prettier with my cum all over you"
You looked at him "I liked you better when you were moaning loudly like a little bitch"
He laughs "That's rich coming from you~"
"Fuck you"
He chuckles "Feel free to come back anytime if you want more~"
"Why on earth would I ever want more from you? Oh I see.. it's you who wants more"
"Only temporarily obviously... Don't act like you don't like the idea of it, princess~"
💚RANPO💚
You and Ranpo almost had the same relationship as him and Poe. They're rivals yet enjoy each other's company. Like Poe you tried to find ways to surpass Ranpo but instead you try to become a better detective. You know it might be impossible, but it's your goal. It was like you and Ranpo were constantly in a competition without hating each other completely. You actually quite liked eachother, but you didn't want to admit that.
One night things escalated and one thing led to another.You were both on a bed as you rode Ranpo's cock. His hands were stuck to your waist and your hands were on his chest to keep you balanced. You were both in pure bliss, moaning and whimpering from the sweet sensation.
"Yea~ so good~ mmn~! More~" Ranpo moaned while throwing his head back
"Its good to know that I can at least put you in this state- mmn~! I'm the only one who can make you like this~" you teased
He just kept whimpering. His hands that were on your waist were trembling from ecstasy. You softly chuckle "Who knew that the world's greatest detective could be such a whimpering mess~"
He slowly starts to smirk "And no other man has ever felt this good huh~? Hah~ It pretty obvious"
You were taken aback from his blunt words. "Ah~! I can say the same when I'm also the only one who's made you like this~" he says while smiles
He sat up by using his elbows to get a better look at you. His tone was deep as he teased you "Don't act so high and mighty~ ngh~!"
You scoff and look down. You hated how right he always was, but then an idea came to your mind. You realized that if there's one thing that makes Ranpo weak it's praise, so you decided to use that against him
You spoke "Your one to talk.. your lucky you feel amazing~"
You saw Ranpo gulp and blush. He smiled softly from the comment. You decided to keep going. You made him sit up to wrap your arms around him and to moan in his ear. Your hand gently pulling on his hair "Your doing such a good job~ ngh~! Such a good boy~ ah~! I can't get enough of you~ mnn~! Your so big and deep~"
You felt his cock throb violently. His whimpers became more loud. It turned you on how you were becoming too much for him to handle. He laid his chin on your shoulder while moaning uncontrollably.
You chuckled gently "The simplest words are enough to drive you crazy~ it's so cute~ yet pathetic" you kissed his ear, making him twitch
He chuckle gently while looking at you "What's pathetic is that you did this expecting me to beg for more of you in the future, but the truth is it's you who will beg for me"
You looked at him offended until he spoke again "Don't be so upset it's not like I'm complaining- ngh~! Not one bit~!"He whispers in your ear "You do feel amazing~ this is the best I've ever felt"
His praise made you crazy. Your cunt twitched as you whimpered against his neck. He smiles "I see even the simplest words make you crazy too"
You began to jump faster on his cock. Both of you moaned louder as you both felt your orgasms coming quickly "Y-yeah~ I'm so close~ i-im going to- ah~! So close~!" Ranpo moaned
"Me too~! Mmn~! Keep going~!"
You both held onto eachother tightly. The sensation was undescribable and incomparable to anything you both have ever felt in your lives. With a few deep, fast thrusts. Ranpo whimpered extremely loudly as he came inside you. His whole body trembling an insane amount. His whimper instantly made you cum with him. Your cunt tightly squeezing the cum out of him and covering his cock with your cum.
While still holding onto eachother you both laid limp onto the bed. Your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beat rapidly. You were both panting heavily and slowly becoming sleepy
"We can do this again tomorrow" Ranpo said in a soft voice
You looked at him shocked but deep down you were happy. He smirks "I already knew you were going to ask so"
You pushed yourself off him "Fuck off"
He laughs while playfully poking your cheek over and over again "Just admit it! your obsessed with me~"
You slapped his hand away while blushing "Fuck you!"
💜FYODOR💜
Your from the ADA and somehow you've found your enemy to be attractive. You hated yourself for it, but the heart wants what it wants. You and Fyodor had an interesting relationship. He too also found you attractive and fascinating, but that didn't stop you from trying to put the guy in jail or him trying to eliminate you.
One night you were fed up and it lead you to finding him in the middle of the night for a hookup. He gave in easily which surprised you, but then again nobody really knows Fyodor, maybe he only agreed because it was part of some plan he has.
You were both on a bed. Fyodor was on top of you as he heavenly fucked you. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on your hips. If he really wanted to, he would kill you in one second, but you just felt too good he couldn't bring himself to do it. His cock hit all your sweet spots and your wet, tight cunt perfectly rubbed his dick.
Your soft moans were music to his ears"My, my, someone sure is enjoying themselves, hm~?" Fyodor smirks
You clenched his hair "Your one to talk- ah~ your twitching so much agh~ I don't think any woman has ever touched you"
"hmm~ I don't sleep around like you, dear~"
Your eyebrows furrowed "I'm not a slut- mmn~" you moaned while arching your back
He chuckles "It seems like you are for me~ coming to my door and begging like one ah~"
You grumbled "Shut up- mph~"
He then used his thumb to rub your clit. You moaned louder and instinctively wrapped your legs around his body to push him deeper inside you, making you tighter "Your really clamping down ngh~ do I make you feel that good~?" He teases
You looked away in embarrassment "Use your words" he whispers in your ear tauntingly
You didn't respond. He shrugs his shoulders "If that's how you want to play, then..." His thrusts became faster and rough. His cock hitting deep inside you and feeling amazing. You moan louder. He tried to hide his moans and all you felt was his cock throbbing more.
You felt your climax coming quickly"I- I'm gonna- ah~! slow d-down~!" You held onto his shoulder tightly Just as you were about to cum, Fyodor pulled himself out. You looked at him confused
He smiles sinisterly "Beg for it, dear~ just like how you did earlier today"
You scoffed "You really think I'd beg for you?"
"Judging by the way your body quivers, and how you wrap your arms and legs around me. I'd say you will"
Your eye twitched. He brought his face coser to yours. Your foreheads almost touching He tilted his head to the side slightly "No man has ever made you feel this grand~"
You chuckle "I bet you didn't even think sex would feel this good, mudak"
(Translation: asshole )
"Hm? I guess we're done here then" he was getting up to leave, but you grabbed his wrist. His eyes looking at your face that was in defeat
You grumbled as you looked down "Please..Fuck me. Please don't stop"
He held your chin to make you look at him "Why should I?"
"B-because... It feels good" you said trying not to sound disgusted
He smiled widely. All of a sudden he plunged his cock inside you again. You both moaned in satisfaction from the pleasure of being one again. He continues his fast, rough pace. Somehow the pleasure being more intense than before. You loudly moaned from the sensation. You felt your orgasm approaching again
"Ngh~! look at you screaming for me~ let's do it together shall we?" Fyodor grunts
You couldn't form sentences. The more Fyodor looked at the state he's put you in, the faster he felt his climax coming. You both couldn't hold on any longer from the pleasure
He gripped your hips harshly "Ngh~! T-trakhni menya~" he grunted before he came deep inside you
(Translation: Fuck me)
The instant you felt your cunt being filled by his hot cum, you came with him while moaning. Your bodies were only washed over by ecstacy. Twitching and breathing heavily was all you two could do. He looked down to your cum filled cunt "Kak chudesno.. taking it all in" he groans softly
(Translation: how wonderful )
A few seconds after he said that, he pulled out of you and plopped next to you trying to catch his breath. You looked at him while panting "Don't look so pleased.. you look pathetic when you cum"
He chuckles and smirks at you "If I recall, you were the one that was begging for me twice tonight. Seems hypocritical, don't you think?"
You looked at him irritated. You knew he was right. You protested "Well this is the first and last time we'll ever do this"
He got closer to your face and in a deep voice, he said "unfortunately, we both know that's not the case"
💙ATSUSHI💙
You were part of the Mafia and Atsushi was part of the ADA. You two have fought eachother every once in awhile, but something about him made you soft, maybe it's because he's actually very sweet, but there's no way you'd ever admit to that. He always got in the way of your plans and it frustrated the hell out of you
Not like he thought of you any different. He didn't like how much of a horrible person you can be, but sometimes he's seen a soft side of you that he believe can be turned into good. You both just found each other fascinating and irritating, yet here you are on a bed.
You were both naked. He was on top of you with his forehead on your shoulder. He thrusted into you at a normal speed, almost tender and soft but he still hit the deepest parts of you. Your wet cunt soaked his cock and made it easy for him to slip in and out of you. One of your arms were in his hair and the other on his back. You both moaned from the pleasure
"Mmn~! W-we shouldn't be doing this- ah~!" He moans against your skin.
He looked worried, but he was just overwhelmed by the pleasure
"Yea, but it's too late to back out now Mmn~! it feels good, doesn't it~?" You responded, tilting your head slightly to get a better look at him
His grip tightened on the sheets "Y-yeah it feels ah~! A-amazing~! But- ngh~!"
"We can stop if you want- ah~ it's just I'll be unsatisfied mmn~"
He moves his head away from your shoulder to get a better look at you "N-no, I can't stop now~ mph~! Even if I wanted to~"
His thrusts became faster making you both moan in ecstasy as you reach closer to your climaxes"Why? Ngh~! Why you out of all people? Ah~" he asks mostly to himself
You scoffed "Mmn~! I ask myself the same thing"
"You've killed and tortured mmn~ yet I can't bring myself to stop~!" He was clearly feeling some type of guilt, but the body wants what it wants
You responded "Not like your any better- ngh~ your such a pushover agh~ your so fucking sensitive" you paused for a second before finishing your sentence "B-but I just can't stay away~ ngh~"
He looks into your eyes slightly surprised. He knows you have a soft spot and he wishes you brought it out more. His thrusts became needy and more vulgar. His thighs slapping against your thighs, hitting your g-spot over and over. You arched your back as you clawed his skin
He felt his release "I c-can't hold it anymore~ ah~! too good~! I-im- ngh~ something's coming~!" He moaned loudly
You held tightly onto him "Just like that~ i-im going to cum~!"
A few more strokes into your wet, warm cunt. He didn't want to make a mess on your body he pulled out and came onto his hand with a loud whimper. His hand was covered in so much of his own cum and you wished it was all over you or maybe even filling up inside you. You came right after him while moaning.
You both stood still in place panting heavily. Atsushi looks at his hand and clean it up with a tissue that's by the bed. He gave some to you too.After you cleaned yourselves up, you looked at him while blushing "Do you mind if I come back tomorrow?"
He jolts slightly from the question and looks away "We shouldn't, but.." he gulps before looking at you "Yeah, I'd like that"
🧡CHUUYA🧡
You knew Chuuya by working long enough at the ADA to learn about him. You knew he was part of the Mafia and his ability, but you both had a difficult relationship. You both didn't hate eachother, but it was hard to get along. You don't know why or how y'all started to fight with each other so often, but it's a regular thing. Regardless of your relationship, you found eachother attractive and thus found yourselves hooking up on this night.
You were both on the bed. Chuuya was on top of you as he thrusted roughly into you. At this rate when you wake up tomorrow you won't even be able to close your legs. Your arms were clawing his back which he found such a turn on. You both moaned from the euphoric sensation
"D-damnit it~ why are you so tight for, huh?" He struggled to say without moaning
You chuckle "Heh~ you can't handle me or what, bitch-? AH!"
Chuuya suddenly sunk his teeth into your neck to shut your snarky comment. You tightened from the bite and he twitched "Agh~ It seems like your the one that can't handle me"
You pull his hair roughly making him moan loudly "Ngh~! F-fucking hell!"
His pace became faster which made you squirm a bit and moan. He held your hips still with his hands "D-dont squirm so much! you'll make me- ngh~!" He moans
You smirk "Your throbbing so much Chuuya~ what's the matter? Mmn~ Does it feel that good~?" You taunted
He grumbles "Shut up ngh~ your literally soaking the sheets"
You decided to flip over and get on top of him "Hey! Who said you could- NGH~!"
You cut off his sentence by jumping on his cock. He gripped harshly on your hips as he closed his eyes tightly from the sensual pleasure
"Mmn~ You look kinda cute like this, Chuuya~" you moaned looking down at his pathetic state
His eyebrows furrowed as he grumbled "Ah~ don't ever call me that"
"Fine mnn~ your adorable~" you poked his cheek
His cheeks blushed red as he suddenly flipped you over and got back on top of you. His thrusts were vulgar and deep. You both moaned loudly. The bed shook violently. Your arms were wrapped around eachother. Your arched your back when you felt his cock hit your g-spot and moaned loudly
He smirks "Screaming from my cock~? Fuck~ so fucking good~ seems like your actually good at something"
You digged your nails into his shoulders "I-im gonna- ah~!" You moaned
His eyes were drunk with pleasure "Yeah~? me too ngh~ where do you want it?"
You grunted "O-outside, you idiot- mmn~!"
After a couple deep thrusts he pulled out and stroked his cock, shooting hot, sticky cum all over your body with a loud grunt. You saw his cock throbbed aggressively as it squirted cum. The sight alone made you cum with him. Your body twitched as you moaned from your release
You were both breathing heavily. He plopped next to you and got some napkins from the table next to the bed and gave them to you to clean yourself. You both laid there and stared at the ceiling still trying to calm down from the climax
"We're never doing that, again" Chuuya pants
"Fuck no. Never again" you responded
What a god damn lie
💛SIGMA💛
You and Sigma know each other for being part of the Decay of Angels and didn't really get along. Sigma had a hard time trusting people especially since you were part of the Decay of Angels. Right from the beginning he never fully trusted you and because of that he was very distant and cold towards you
You weren't any different though. You were also being used for the decay of angels and didn't really trust Sigma. The relationship between you two was secretly hating the other with no real reason, but one day you were both really frustrated and needed a distraction
It kind of just happened yet you couldn't really understand how it happened when you were both on the couch naked. You were straddling him while jumping on his cock. His hands were caressing your thighs. Your hands were in his hair sometimes pulling it and making him groan. Your tight, wet, warm cunt rubbed his cock addictively as you kept jumping on it. The tip of his cock hitting the deepest parts of your pussy. It felt amazing
Sigma looks down to see his cock slide in and out of you "Ah~! f-fuck~ j-just like that~" he moans
"So good~ I didn't expect you to be this amazing~" you responded while arching your back
He furrows his eyebrows "S-shut up~ mmn~ I know your just fucking with me mph~ using me as a toy"
You looked into his eyes "So are you- ngh~ don't act all innocent agh~! your loving this aren't you?"
He looked slightly stunned for a second "W-well.. ngh~! I guess we're both even- ah~!"
Suddenly your pace became faster. His cock throbbing aggressively as his whole body twitched from every touch from you "Your so sensitive~ mnn~! have you never been touched before~?" You asked teasingly
He blushed more and looked down "W-why would it matter? Your talking too much- ngh~!"
You wrapped your arms around his neck "Don't be so embarrassed~ ah~ it's actually pretty cute~" you smirked
He became embarrassed "C-cute? I said to s-shut up didnt I?"
He was tired of hearing your talk, after all, he just wanted a distraction. You listened to his small request and stopped talking. You thought of a kinky idea and decided to cover his eyes with your hands. He couldn't see, but he focused more on the pleasure of your cunt. He let out a loud whimper and unintentionally used his hands to move your hips faster. His cock throbbed and ached as he felt his climax coming
"A-ah~! Mmn~ f-faster~!" He moaned while his head fell back exposing his throat more
You moaned more from the quick pace and smirked by how cute he was "So lewd~ ah~!"
"G-gonna c-cum~! Don't stop~!" He whimpered loudly
You kept doing with what you were doing also feeling your climax coming. After a few more thrusts, Sigma gasps before cumming deep inside you with a loud whimper and digging his nails into your skin. You tugged on his hair when you felt his cock shoot cum, making you cum with him and moaned. Both of you quivering from the insane amount of pleasure rushing throughout your body.
You laid limp against him and roved your hand from his eyes. Both of you were breathing heavily. You moved your head slightly to get a better look at his face
"If you ever need another release don't be afraid to come to me" you quietly said
He looks down at you with blushed cheeks. He stared into your eyes with a small amount of worry for awhile before gulping and responding. He nodded "Alright"
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
Note
I really like your writing about protective husband dazai x reader can you do make one with fyodor ☺?
[HILISE'S FANS 🌺]
sin — fyodor dostoyevsky x f!reader
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a/n: I am glad you liked it, sweetheart! I hope you enjoy this one as well <33 mentions of blood + death
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you loved the way fyodor’s glided along the cello as he played tune after tune.
it was comforting, calming, and sent a wave of security through your being.
but, at the moment, the sound of the cello is antagonizing to you. it creeps you out and makes you want to hide.
your husband isn’t the one playing it and the man who is playing is smiling wickedly as he moves his hands, roughly and stiffly—almost mockingly, “to think that fyodor had such a pretty plaything. I wonder,” he looks at you, “will he actually come to save you?”
his cackle echoes throughout the room and you hate that you can’t give a confident answer to his question.
will fyodor really come to save you?
or were you one of the chess pieces that can be discarded?
you shake the thought out of your head and try looking around once more for anything that would aid your escape.
your captor notices and quips, “give it up; this room is full of nothing—save for you and me, of course.”
you feel your chest tighten and despair is starting to fill your heart. will you really die here? Dark thoughts start flooding your mind.
but then, you snap your heads towards the door when it opens.
it finally reveals your husband, fyodor. the man leaves the cello, dropping it to the floor and you could swear that your husband’s eyes narrow, and approaches fyodor, “long time no see, fedya! hope you didn’t mind that I stole your wife for a bit.”
fyodor’s eyes travel to your form, ignoring the man, and analyze your state. you’re safe, but he would be blind if he couldn’t see the bruises on your arms, probably from their filthy and harsh grips on you.
the man snaps his fingers, catching fyodor’s attention again, “did you get my stuff? your wife for the goods, you know the policy.”
fyodor sighs, “you don’t deserve the salvation I will grant you, but—you also don’t deserve to walk this earth after what you have done.”
the man laughs, “and what will you do, fyodor? a frail man like you can only kill me if he touches me.”
a smirk settles on your husband’s face, “are you so arrogant to think that I would come unprepared?” and so fyodor snaps his fingers and a portal opens.
it’s nikolai’s, you note.
on the other hand, the man doesn’t get to react as a pole impales him right then and there.
a frightened scream escapes you at the sight and you look away. your breathing quickens and you try to move away from the puddle of blood forming.
Fyodor simply walks past it and looks at the man’s dead body, “may you be punished for all your sins,” he sneers then nears you, his eyes softer.
he kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his own, “are you okay, milaya?”
your eyes dart frantically from your husband to the corpse, “w-what about—?”
your husband shushes you before placing a kiss on your forehead then on your eyelids, “he deserved it. if left alone, a sinful fool like him will only cause chaos.”
fyodor pulls you close and strokes your hair, “you get it, don’t you, my dear?” he buries his face in your face, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “he thought of hurting you and that alone is a big sin.”
you pat your husband’s back, “were you…worried?”
“you’re smart enough to figure that out, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he pulls away to examine your face, “surely, you don’t think that I don’t care about my own wife, right?”
you avoid his eyes and he frowns lightly, “foolish wife of mine,” he gazes at you and his lips graze your ears, “I wouldn’t have kept you if I didn’t care.”
for the longest while, he was shocked by how much you became to him, but he never fought it. he embraced it a while ago and he has come to the terms that to him, you being hurt is the biggest sin anyone could do.
so he pulls you close once again and prays that you’re spared from the aftermath of any action he does. because he is sure that once something happens to you, his heart will know nothing but vengeance in your name.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @waosobii
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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lovedazai · 5 months
Text
SAY MY NAME OR NOTHING AT ALL . . . fyodor doesn’t fall prey to emotions like jealousy (or so he says).
ft. fyodor + f!reader, subordinate!reader, possessive behavior, fingering, one use of “good girl”, fyodor is a little petty but he’s still soft for u, reader is a little lovesick…mdni !!
p.s.! ₊˚. idk what this is !! maybe (def) ooc but i needed an excuse to write ab fyodor & his pretty fingers ꩜_꩜
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it’s quickly becoming clear to fyodor that choosing you for this mission was more trouble than it was worth.
all you had to do was collect information from a particularly important man, one with a history of being easily captivated by beautiful women. you’d take what fyodor required, then dispose of him. there was no question you’d be able to charm him, especially when you were wearing the silk gown fyodor had personally chosen for you. it suited you perfectly, highlighted all of your finest features; after all, he knew youーmind, body, and soulーbetter than anybody else.
the same gown a pair of filthy hands were trying to slither beneath, and you were letting them.
fyodor monitors you from the comfort of his office, listening quietly, as always. he hacks into the security cameras of the dining hall, watching as you run your hand down the man’s chest, batting your lashes. your fingers, curling around his thigh as you lean forward and brush your lips against his ear, whispering something. he can make out your smile even through the grainy lens as you pull him by your intertwined hands out of sight.
he doesn’t even realize how hard he’s biting his thumb until the taste of blood trickles onto his tongue.
you were an incredibly important asset, but even more importantly, you were his. you were more than a pretty little pawn, if anything, you were a queen; you’re rightful place was beside him.
with the ability to see through everyone he encountered, he found himself bored by humanity’s sheer mediocrity. you were the exception, sneaking into his thoughts, igniting something unfamiliar and ticklish in his chest. he wouldn’t let you fall into someone else’s undeserving hands so easily.
you’re late when you arrive back. he hears you before he sees you, heels clicking down the marble floor of the hallway before his office door creaks open.
“quite a convincing performance,” his lips curl upward as he stands from his chair. “one must think you’ve had a lot of practice seducing men. you should’ve mentioned it sooner.”
you don’t seem surprised he was watching you, tilting your head at him as you smile innocently. “isn’t that why you asked me to do this mission?”
“it wasn’t an ask as much as an order, my dearest.”
he watches as you pull your heels off, still dotted with stray blood splatters. his eyes don’t waver as you approach his desk, dropping a flash drive onto the dark wood.
he curls his fingers beneath your chin, eyebrows furrowing as he tilts your head towards him. his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, your lipstick was smeared.
“did you kiss him?” he grips your jaw, squinting his eyes. they flit down to your throat, watching you swallow. as far as he’s concerned, touching what’s his is the greatest sin of all; his only comfort was that you’d already gotten rid of that man and his filth, even if it had gotten on you in the process.
“where else did he touch you?” he feels your skin warm beneath his fingers. he looks at you carefully, expecting some type of answer, but you only look at the floor, trying to lessen the weight of his disapproving gaze on you. he tilts your head higher, forcing you to meet his eyes. from the way you squirm, he knows you’re clenching your thighs beneath your dress. “i’ll simply have to cleanse you. surely he didn’t touch you here, hm?”
he trails his hand down your figure, ghosting the delicate curve of your throat and the plush of your chest before he settles on your lower stomach, pressing down through the silky fabric.
“no,” you whisper. he can see your heartbeat through the fabric of your dress, and he knows the reason your pupils are dilated isn’t from the lack of light in his office. “of course not.”
“of course not,” he repeats. he pushes his keyboard aside, papers scattering across his desk, and you sit on it without hesitation. despite your actions this evening, you were still trained well.
your thighs are warm against his hands when he lifts up the tulle of your dress. your breath catches when his cool touch permeates through the thin fabric of your underwear as he trails his fingertips against you, stopping right above your most sensitive spot.
he stretches the elastic to the side, barely brushing against your clit, but it’s still enough for your hips to jerk. he rubs slow circles, stroking through your folds before he presses a finger into you, smiling at the way you open your legs wider for him. he puts in another, nearly down to his knuckle before he curls them. his grin only grows when he finds your sweet spot, and you let out a satisfied sigh. he splays his hand against your stomach to keep you still when you roll your hips, trying to get him deeper.
“don’t be so impatient, dear,” he leans close enough to whisper into your ear. “you know i’ll take care of you.”
“i know,” you dreamily sigh. “you always do.”
your cunt clings to him as he pulls his finger in and out, watching with careful eyes at the way your lips quiver and your muscles tense.
“tell me,” he says, as casual as if he was speaking to you over tea. “do you think that man could do this to you?”
you shake your head, opening your mouth to speak when he presses into you especially hard, and you let out a choked whine instead.
“only you could,” you cling to his lithe wrist. “there’s no one else like you, fyodor. i was made f’you, i swear.”
he hums, pleased. you were too adorable, completely wrapped around his finger. he rewards you with a kiss as he scissors his fingers, gently stretching you.
your teeth nip at his bottom lip, tongue smoothing against the rough, cracked skin. you’re practically dripping into his palm, moans vibrating against his lips, and he can’t help the satisfaction that blooms when you make those sweet noises, all because of him.
“fyodor,” your fingers twitch, clinging to the edge of the desk, head lolling. he knows you’re dying to touch yourself, but you don’t, letting him play with you in whatever way he wanted. maybe you were still his good girl after all.
you gasp as he grinds his palm against your clit. even through your half-lidded eyes, you look at him like he’d personally hung the moon, pupils sparkling with adoration. something flutters against his ribcage at the sight of you, completely in awe of him. you tug him closer, toes curled as your ankles press against the back of his thighs, muffling your whimpers against his shoulder.
hearing you moan his name was prettier than even the most complicated pieces he played on his cello, your glassy eyes and soft hands clinging to him like your life depended on it finer than any work of art he’d ever seen.
your legs tremble so hard they shake his desk against the wall. he grips the soft skin of your thigh, moving his knee to keep you in place, holding them open when they threaten to close. he feels your cunt tighten around his fingers, back arching as he quickens his pace on your clit before you cum, body practically melting in place.
you always looked beautiful when you fell apart because of him. your head falls back, perfect, soft skin of your neck on display, begging for him to sink his teeth into, to visibly lay his claim, and his name falls out of your mouth like a hymn. your dress strap has fallen down, silk barely covering your cleavage when he pulls his fingers out of you.
he looks at his hand, coated and shining with your cum. chest still heaving, you meet his gaze, parting your pretty lips, tongue slipping out.
it’d be pathetic how obediently you open up for him, if you were anyone else. you lick at his fingers gently, looking up at him through your lashes as you suck them into your mouth. you curl your tongue around each one, eyes watering when he presses dangerously close to the back of your throat. you kiss his fingertips as he pulls them back.
you look like his very own angel: fabric flowing around your waist, thighs still spread open, lips shiny with drool.
maybe it’s him you have wrapped around your finger.
he cups your cheek, brushing his fingers through your hair. your forehead falls to his chest and he rubs his thumb along the back of your neck, still warm. his gaze falls back to the flash drive on his desk.
“the mission was successful, yes?”
“mhm,” you turn your head so your ear is pressed against his heart, smoothing your hands across the silky fabric blanketing you. “i didn’t even stain my dress.”
“how impressive,” he smiles, careful not to let the elastic snap against your skin as he slides your underwear back into place, pulling your dress strap up your shoulder. “i quite like it on you. i’d hate to have to throw it away so soon.”
he guides you off the desk with a hand on your lower back, keeping it there even as he settles you against his lap, pulling his papers back into place. this is where you belong, right next to him, basked in the violet light of his monitors.
“you don’t have to be jealous,” you whisper. “i only did it for the mission.”
he looks down at you, nuzzled against his shoulder, peering up at him with heavy eyes.
“i would’ve rather spent my night with you,” you tuck his hair behind his ear before you brush your lip against his cheek, hand settling right above his heart. it almost felt intimate. “i only got through it because i thought about you the entire time.”
he wonders if you can feel the way you effect him with your hand resting on his chest like this. he tightens his hold against your back; he’ll have to give you a proper reward, like your own night out with him, where you can hold his hand, whisper secrets in his ear, and let him smear your lipstick afterwards.
“obviously.”
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BSD MASTERLIST
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fyodorloveclub · 23 days
Text
TIDAL TEMPTATIONS. - chapter i
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༄ pairing: merman!fyodor x afab reader
༄ cw: sfw (for now), non-gory descriptions of and treatment of stab wounds to fyodor, very brief mentions of blood. not intended to be medically accurate, treat ur stab wounds as you wish
༄ notes: hello :) welcome to my first multi-chapter fic! this has been a work in progress for some time, and im quite nervous abt posting this first part so be nice pls <3 just as a note, fyodor is referred to exclusively as he/him until reader names him next chapter (he can't speak human language yet) enjoy!
༄ wc: 4k
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Since moving to a beachside village after spending your whole life in a landlocked town, your mother had outlined ample, strict rules regarding the sea.
Rule 1: No venturing out past sundown.
This was the rule you broke on an almost nightly basis. Your mother was quite the early riser, meaning she often was out cold before the fireflies had even begun flashing yellow and green. It was far too easy to slip out the back door with a flashlight, barefoot to keep your footsteps silent as possible. There was no feeling more serene than dawdling down the shore, mushy sand between your toes and waves lapping at your ankles as the salty breeze curled around you. It was pitch black save for the bioluminescent creatures that washed up on the shore and the pale glow emanating from your flashlight, and it was comforting. While many feared darkness, you found solace in its embrace.
Rule 2: No swimming past the sandbar.
Also a frequently broken rule. You found it to be far too restrictive, as the sandbar was only a dozen meters from the shore. No fish could be found that shallow, and it was much easier for crabs to nip at you when you were that close to the sandy floor. Being out deeper, where the gentle waves tousled and hugged you, was where you felt the most at home.
Rule 3: No fraternizing with sea beings.
That’s the name that had been put in place for entities that straddled the line of human and creature. Some believed they were even the missing link. Very little was known about sea beings, mostly due to the universal fear of them. They often had unsettling, bone-chilling appearances and never appeared to be overly friendly to humans, so a firm boundary was set. You must never approach a sea being.
All three of these rules were broken the night you met him.
Well, you assumed it was a “him”. He had a flat chest and sharp, masculine features, but he wasn’t human. His human-esque appearance terminated at his hips, where pale, nearly translucent skin tapered into onyx black scales, flowing into a sleek, obscenely long tail. His fluke, also inky black, was reminiscent of a betta fish’s frail fins, flowy with spindly edges, yet fanned strong against the current.
That was all you were able to see of him, at first. You had swam out well past the sandbar one night, flashlight in hand as you dove past the waves, your beam suddenly illuminating his form. He remained very still, head tilting as you made eye contact, as if he was observing you. And he was – he had heard the unmistakable sound of a human swimming, a somewhat ungraceful, clumsy affair, and followed it. Typically, when he sensed humans in the water, he would jet in the other direction – humans didn’t treat him kindly, and he had the scars to prove it. But there was something… different about you. A sweeter scent and a gentler aura. And he was curious - so instead of making a beeline towards his cove when he sensed your presence in the water, he swam closer.
He was immediately enamored by you. You were much softer and merciful, and he didn’t sense a single bad intention. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t uneasy. The only interactions he’d ever had with humans were traumatic, and other than appearances, he had no way of knowing you were any different. Claws bared, fangs ready, and tail already swishing, he was prepared for fight or flight – though he remained, just watching you. And you the same. It was drilled into your head, the second you spotted a sea being, swim as fast as possible towards the shore and never look back. There were a handful of reports of villagers being attacked by sea beings and barely making it out alive, and one case of a child who didn’t. Their presence was not to be taken lightly.
Yet, for some reason, both of you just… watched.
Watched and waited for the other to make a move - to attack. He thought it was surely any second until you unveiled a spear from behind your back to impale him, and you were just waiting to be torn to shreds by those claws. But nothing ever happened. You held his gaze and he held yours, studying the other.
Just as fascinated as you were by him, he was utterly fascinated by you. He had never gotten this close to a human before, not by his own volition anyway, and he had never truly seen one this plainly. It was easy to tell that you looked similar to him from the top up, but the bottom down was a completely different story. Where he was used to fish tails, scales, and fins, you wore two fleshy, stick-like protrusions that only bent in two places. No wonder humans were so terrible at swimming. He briefly wondered if there was anything between them. 
It wasn’t long before you ran out of air and had to break the surface, but when you dove back down, he was gone. You felt a slight sense of relief that he hadn’t been staking you out as prey, but also a pang of sorrow as you realized you’d likely never see him again. What you didn’t know is that he hadn’t gone far, just hid behind a formation of rocks as he watched you dejectedly swim back to the shore. It was a foreign experience – he’d never seen a human… disappointed about escaping from him.
As you snuck back into bed and drifted off that night, you found yourself gilled and fanged, finding home amongst the waves.
~~
You didn’t see him for a while after that. Despite you returning to the same spot from that fateful night every day, marked by an especially large horseshoe crab shell, he was never there. It became part of your daily routine to venture to that spot, a backpack full of books, snacks, and water, and lay out on a towel as the sun drifted through the sky.
It was never quite clear to you what you were waiting for, though. What would you even do if he reappeared? You couldn’t converse, neither of you could go to the other’s homes, what was to be gained from seeing him again? You never quite answered that question – all you knew was that you just had to see him again. At least one more time.
Things started to look bleak as days turned into weeks. Your mother wasn’t happy with you spending nearly every waking second on the beach. She could never find out why either, as she’d likely ban you from stepping foot on the sand ever again. And you even had started to think that maybe you had dreamt it – no way you just happened to run into a breathtakingly beautiful merman-type sea being who didn’t try to attack you. That just didn’t happen.
This… creature, you just couldn’t get him out of your head. He had found his way onto almost every page of your sketchbook, finding new life in graphite, pastels, and watercolors. The inky black tail swirled long and curled on itself on the page, as you occasionally took creative liberties on his appearance. 
Stories of him and your sure-to-happen future rendezvouses began popping up in your diary too - and not just him as a sea creature. You waxed poetic about what he might look like as a full-fledged human, with legs and without fangs. He’d surely be kind and gentlemanly, charming and funny with a deep voice and proper human language. He’d be well spoken and smart, and everything you’d ever dreamed of. 
If he ever showed up again. And it wasn’t looking like he would. Until he did.
On a night where you hadn’t even been on the lookout for him, were just dragging your feet through wet sand and shells when you spotted a dark form curled up on the shore. The moon was but a sliver barely cutting through dense clouds, compromising your vision, but something convinced you to jog that way anyway.
And it was him. The tide that lapped at the sand jostled his barely conscious body, threatening to pull him back out towards the darkness. You gasped as you ran and fell to your knees next to him, immediately recognizing the onyx tail with the delicate fins and opalescent skin. Except this time his back was riddled with what appeared to be stab wounds – they were likely a few hours old, no longer gushing blood, but still deep, unhealed gashes that needed to be treated.
“Are- are you okay?” you stupidly asked – as if he was conscious or human enough to answer that question.
When he didn’t respond, you shifted to sit with your legs crossed and pulled his head into your lap, brushing his salt-crusted hair out of his eyes. His large eyes fluttered open at the stimulus, a glowing violet gaze shifting to meet yours.
“Hi,” you whispered, laughing lightly. “I had wanted us to meet again, but not like this.” You had assumed he didn’t understand human language, but the way he only stared at you blankly confirmed this belief.
Anxiety and panic started to bubble up inside you as you absorbed the situation but did your best to ignore it. Swift, calm action needed to be taken if he was to be saved. You shifted your gaze to better assess his injuries and counted five different gashes where he had clearly been stabbed with some sort of weapon – it certainly wasn’t something that had happened naturally. The shape of the wounds was reminiscent of those a fishing harpoon would create, and your face fell as you pieced together what likely happened. Existing in his own territory, he probably swam too close to a fishing boat and spooked the fishermen, prompting them to overreact and attack the harmless creature.
You brought a careful finger to trace along the edges of the wounds, making him jump and hiss, thrashing in your hold as he groaned.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you gasped, your hands immediately flying away. “I’m gonna, um…” you thought for a second. You knew you had medicine and gauze back home, but he was just going to have to go right back in the water, right? It surely was better than nothing…
You slowly started to wiggle out of his grip. “I’m gonna be right back, okay? I need to get supplies to make you better,” you explained slowly, gesturing towards his wounds. He only cocked his head and furrowed his brows. Fuck. He wasn’t going to understand a word you said.
With a grimace, you gently held his head in your hands as you scooted away, slowly laying it back down on the sand. You stood to head back to your house, but the creature suddenly began groaning and crying out, reaching a shaky arm towards you. He was clearly distressed over you abandoning him.
“Hey, hey! I’ll be right back, I swear,” you soothed, crouching down next to him, and gripping his hand. It killed you to have to leave him like this, terrified you might return to either find him dead or washed back out to sea, but you couldn’t just do nothing at all.
You wracked your brain trying to think of a way to communicate to him that you’d be back when words weren’t an option. Grabbing your backpack, you anxiously rummaged through it for some semblance of an idea, all the while he moaned and groaned in pain. Some sort of keepsake you could somehow communicate had value, almost like collateral. Something to say, this is special, proof I’ll be back. As fate would have it, you had decided to do a deep clean of your bag that morning, so you were coming up pretty dry.
The only thing you could think of was an old copy of your favorite book you always carried on you, Crime and Punishment. Mother always teased you for a depressing, old Russian novel being your comfort book, but you never let it phase you. Pulling it out of your backpack, you stared at the old, tattered cover with the faded title, and hoped to god he could make sense of it – that you were trusting him with something that meant a lot to you. There wasn’t much else you could do.
You tucked it under his arm splayed out on the sand, making sure he noticed what you were doing. Petting his hair, you looked him deep in the eyes as you enunciated one more time: I’ll be right back.
Panic coursed through your veins as you clambered to your feet and ran back to your house. The light of your flashlight was nearly useless as you trembled with fear, tripping over shells and driftwood to the point where your feet were probably going to need some treatment too.
The next hurdle in your way as you reached your house was remaining quiet enough so as not to wake your mother – there was no way to explain your way out of frantically searching for medical supplies to run back out with in the middle of the night. When you weren’t even supposed to be out in the first place.
To minimize the amount of time you even had to be away, you just threw anything you could find in the cabinets into your bag, hoping it would be sufficient enough. Though you stopped in front of the mirror as you passed it, staring at your sweaty and distressed appearance, and took a second to wonder what the hell you were doing. Going out of your way to save a potentially homicidal sea being? Those stabbings may have been damn well deserved. He could somehow be manipulating your kindness for… something. You couldn’t even think of what.
You decided it wasn’t even worth fretting about – you had to get your book back anyway.
The trip back to your anxiously awaiting patient felt a million times longer than the trip home, with every step of your bloody feet reminding you that there may be no one – nothing – to come back to. The sea was a place of peace, but cruel and unforgiving. Your prayers were answered as your flashlight once again illuminated his crumpled body, barely conscious but still clinging on to your (soaking wet and likely ruined) book.
A relieved smile illuminated your face as you fell to his side once again, partially burying the flashlight into the sand so it stood upright to act as a lamp.
“You’re – still here,” you smiled, taking a deep breath. You almost said you’re okay, but that wasn’t quite true, yet.
His clawed hand trembled as it reached out for you, the stretch of his fingers revealing the black webbing in between them. You grasped it back tightly and intertwined your fingers together, squeezing. “I’m here, okay?” He offered you the tiniest smile, but immediately dropped it, the miniscule energy it required taking a toll on his wasting body.
The first thing you did was unfurl a massive, striped beach towel you found shoved in the back of a linen closet onto the sand before hooking your elbows under his underarms and dragging him onto it. It was nearly impossible, his entire body essentially dead weight at that point, but you wanted to get him off the dirty sand – and this was the closest thing you could get to a sterile field.
Dumping the contents of your bag onto the towel next to him, you parsed through it trying to figure out some sort of plan of action. You tried to keep the panic at bay as the thought that none of this was sufficient for anything worse than a superficial cut nagged at you. It was this or nothing.
The first thing mother always told you to do for wounds: clean it. A wave of dread washed over you as you pulled out the bottle of rubbing alcohol, your eyes flitting from it to the gaping wounds in his back. The way he looked at you with terrified, leaky eyes, aware that his entire life was in your hands right then, shattered your heart. You almost wished he was unconscious.
Grabbing a washcloth, he watched as you soaked it with rubbing alcohol, his nose scrunching at the offensive smell. Touching his cheek, you tried to smile as he met your eyes. “This is gonna hurt really – really – bad,” you grimaced. He just stared at you, emotionless, until the rag touched the first wound.
As soon as the liquid came into contact with the broken skin, he let out a horrific, inhuman screech that had you dropping the washcloth to cover your ears. His claws tore ragged holes in the towel as he gripped it, panting and writhing in pain. You couldn’t help but cry too. “I’m so, so sorry,” you continually repeated, abandoning the cloth to lay down next to him. Tears streamed down his face and soaked the towel underneath him, barely even acknowledging the way you wiped them away with trembling fingers.
Despite how much you preferred to just lie with him under the glow of the moon and the melody of the waves, you knew what had to be done. Death was worse than temporary pain – there had to be part of him somewhere that understood that. You hoped it would be better now that he was expecting it.
Slowly sitting back up, you grabbed the rag once more and wrung it out to reduce it to only the minimum amount of antiseptic required, and tried to ignore the way he quivered and shook his head. I’m sorry felt like a shitty spell as you chanted it over and over again, though the screeches became easier to tune out as they rang on. You were surprised his vocal cords didn’t fry.
After what felt like an eternity for both of you, you had finally managed to clean out the wounds and remove some of the dried blood that clung to his skin. The towel was torn to shreds and the veins in his eyes were blown with how much he had been thrashing and sobbing. But the worst of it was over now.
“We’re almost done,” you soothed as you gently applied the triple-antibiotic cream you knew was only meant for minor cuts to the gaping stab wounds. Once they were packed with gauze, you sat back with a huff to survey your handiwork. Sloppy and a bit haphazard but… better than nothing. And having the wounds covered seemed to have helped him calm down a little bit. One last thing crossed your mind though – how could you potentially make the dressings waterproof?
Your eyes flitted over to a slew of seaweed on the shore that reflected the moonlight and figured you might as well try. With some gentle and minorly excruciating maneuvering, you managed to wrap a few thick strands of seaweed around his torso to maybe keep the dressings in place, and protect them from water immediately seeping in.
Falling back onto the towel that was mostly just threads at that point, you sighed. Thoughts of what the fuck am I doing? carved their way into every square inch of your skull. Why am I playing doctor for… whatever he- it is? Why do I care?
The sun began to peak up over the horizon, signaling that it was likely around 5 AM at that point. A groan left your lips as you realized you were going to have to leave soon if you wanted to make it home before Mother awoke, but then remembered you had company. Turning your head, you inspected his body. This was your first time seeing him on land in the approaching daylight.
He only watched you as you observed him. He was… mesmerizing. Flowing from the nape of his neck to both of his wrists, swirls of smoky black pigmentation decorated his skin, while both of his hands and claws were solid black. His – admittedly stunning – face was mostly human-like, save for his slightly larger, glowing violet eyes with slits for pupils. And you had found out he had fangs when he kept hissing in pain. His hair was jet black and flowed just past his shoulders, flecked with salt and sand, that obscured the dark gills on either side of his neck. With only the pitiful light of dawn, you couldn’t make out much of his inky tail, only that it was quite long, and lined with multiple flowing side fins that resembled the fluke.
The waterproof digital watch on your wrist began to beep erratically, making the poor creature jump in fear. Shit. The morning alarm your mother had punched into it.
“I have to leave, I’m so sorry.”
Seemingly starting to recognize the sounds of leave and sorry, his already sad expression wilted even more.
“I’ll be back, okay?” you nodded, enunciating each word clearly. “And you probably need to get back in the water, so you don’t dry out.”
The elongated amount of time outside of the water seemed to have made his tail shrivel slightly, the pointed scales more prominent than they were before. Or maybe that was just the sun rising. Either way, you were at least somewhat certain he needed to be rehydrated.
Standing up on your feet, you dusted off some of the sand that now clung to every inch of you and crossed your arms. The tip of your tongue poked out of your lips slightly as you tried to conjure up a plan of how to get him back in the water. Considering the fact that he wasn’t just pure dead weight anymore, it couldn’t be too bad. But the fresh stab wounds were the main barrier here.
“Alright. We’re getting you back in,” you announced, as if you had some position of authority. He just cocked his head and flared his gills.
With time running out, you decided the best bet was just to use the towel to drag his body the couple of meters back towards the water, and rely on the tide to hopefully aid in easing him back in. It was a deliberate choice to ignore his snarls and light thrashing, clearly not thrilled with the idea.
“Stop fighting me, dumbass,” you grunted. Finally, the tide rose high enough to envelop him, allowing him to indignantly flick his tail at you before swimming away.
The trip back to your house was spent fuming as you wondered why the stupid creature was being so damn ungrateful. As if you hadn’t spent hours saving his life. Whatever. Maybe you could give him a piece of your mind when you went to check up on him later that day. What you didn’t understand was that his unwillingness to allow you to leave stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t quite grasp why you were leaving him. What you were leaving him for. And it hurt. He had always been a loner, even amongst his own kind, and you were the only being to ever show him pure kindness. Why would you leave? And would you ever be back?
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"Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"
"Open your mouth for me baby"
"Do you know what happens when you misbehave?"
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Pairing: Fyodor X Fem!Reader
Request: "HIIII I'm here for your September event ! God, I hope it's not too late and you'll take my request (and I hope you're having a good day). So I'll like 17, 1 and 5 with Fyodor. If it is possible a Fyodor... Not very nice, you know, a little psycho. OK it's weird, I hope you will accept T-T Have à great day !!" ◜By dear @concombre-2-mer ◞
Genre: Smut
Format: Fic
Warnings: Explicit smut, Porn with a plot, Orgasm denial, Yandere themes, Toxic relationship, Mean dom!Fyodor, Sub!Reader, French!Reader(Just pretend that you're French if you aren't lol), Lovesick!Reader,Heavy degrading, Praising, Slapping, Choking, Spitting, Dacryphilia, Fingering, Vaginal penetration, Pet names(Dear, Darling, etc), Name calling(Slut, whore, etc), Dirty talk, MDNI, Dark content dead dove do not eat
Word Count: 4.4K (I KNOW)
A/n: Ahhhh this took so long I am very, very sorry. Also, I hope I reach your expectations lol.
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Fyodor Dostoevsky, a complicated, brilliant, dangerous man, with so many plans in his head.
You met him at a ball where your dad, the most powerful senator of France, was the host, and he was one of the VIP guests. The second your eyes caught a glimpse of the raven-haired man, your heart missed a beat. It wasn't just about his looks- although you could never overlook how attractive he was. It was the way he calmly witnessed everything and talked in a nice but also careful manner, or perhaps how he smiled elegantly while looking at other people blabbering, like he knew all their intentions inside out- which you found out later that he actually did; nothing can escape this mans sharp eyes.
Whatever the reason was, he had you fascinated by him from the very beginning.
You made the not-so-wise decision to approach him and start a casual conversation, which only made you more curious about this mysterious, fetching man. Your discussion that was supposed to be a short chit-chat lasted for hours, but it couldn't be any other way. You had the same interest, the same likes, the same taste in literature; it was nice having someone who understood what you were talking about and didn't look at their clock every ten seconds as company; nice, and rare.
When the party was over and Fyodor walked you to your room as the gentleman he was, he couldn't miss the hints of lust in your eyes, and how you were looking at him so desirably, hoping he would step inside the bedroom and spend the night with you; but all you got was a kiss goodbye on your cheek and a formal farewell.
That night you couldn't sleep. Between all the tossing and turnings, you thought about the ball. How you found the perfect guy, spent the whole event with him while others were laughing and drinking at the buffet, and how you got rejected in the end. Maybe he was just playing with you after all; just to get information about your father and to take advantage of you, like everybody else had done. He was never interested in you in the first place.
You were wrong.
Not about the information part. He did got the information he wanted through his intellectual methods and you carelessly gave it all away; but for the first time in his life, Fyodor found himself curious about someone, for reasons that weren't involved with his work. He didn't care about your father and his political status anymore, he wanted to know about you; which explained why your phone was ringing with an unknown number showing up on the screen the day after the event.
He asked you to give him a tour around the city and to accept his invitation to a lovely dinner as a thank you gift, and you accepted without giving it a second thought.
Nothing happened that night either.
You were frustrated. Everything was going great, he even smiled at your funny remarks a few times- actually, he was smiling the whole time, examining your expressions with a vague look on his face. But the second you arrived at your home, he was gone again, rejecting your offer to come inside for "a cup of coffee".
Who was this man? Why did he kept doing this? He was not someone you could read his mind easily, you had no idea what was going on through his head; all you knew was that you'd only known this man for two days, and you're already obsessed with him.
Given how many times he had humiliated you, it was stupid to accept his offer for another date the day after again, but you weren't really thinking anymore.
Just like that, you kept going on small dates with each other every night, and he kept refusing to come inside each time; but you were happy that you got to spend time with him; you could always open yourself on your fingers pretending that they're his afterwards. You could see a future for yourself with this man, living in a fancy house together. He would read to you when your head is on his lap, take a bubble bath with you in the bathtub, you could even get yourself a cat. A baby would be nice too, if Fyodor would be down for that...
Little did you know, you were digging yourself into a bottomless hole, which you'll never be getting out of.
Fyodor had the same thoughts as you.
You were so sweet, so kind and lovely. He liked it that you were actually smart, but lost all your senses when it came to him. You were sweetly stupid and it made his heart clench every time he had to drag his feet out of your alley to head back to his empty, cold apartment alone, but it was all part of his plan, and the only key to it was patience, because he needed to make you desperate, to the point that you would kneel and accept everything he tells you to, not needing to be told twice.
And it happened. You found yourself to be at Fyodor's beck and call, agreeing to his every word without putting much thought to it; Even when he asked you to run away with him.
You were skeptic of course; not enough to reject his offer, but you needed to hear him saying it was ok, it was the right thing to do. And he did, assuring you that your parents would never let you come with him if you tell them beforehand, that it's the only option you've got left and you will eventually visit them after a while.
How could you refuse when he was the one asking?
You didn't hear anything from your parents until a few days later, when the tragic accident of fire that had devoured the home of the great senator and the occupants alive got all over the news.
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You haven't seen Fyodor for over one week.
Months have passed since the "accident" and your so called "get away", but things have gotten worse, if even changed slightly. You've been kept in a small apartment ever since, and haven't caught a glimpse of the sun for so long, not even through the windows.
Fyodor said it's for your own good, that people who killed your family are after your blood and you need to stay somewhere he can protect you, but you're not sure if sealing the windows are really related to that. You don't have a key to the apartment, even to the rooms; Fyodor has set many ground rules of things you should and should not do, and it's frustrating.
Your patience knows limits, and it might already be at it.
You're lying in front of the TV, with a bowl of ice cream in your hand, looking at some romantic movie in your own language. You watch the people laughing, dancing, making love, but the only thing you feel is one single emotion.
Envy
You're envious of other people. How they go on fancy dates and end up fucking in a public bathroom, while you haven't even kissed Fyodor yet. You don't have the faintest idea why he asked you to come with him in the first place. That's what Fyodor does to you, always keeping you in the dark and only coming back when he decides it's the right time.
Him, not you. Your opinion does not matter one single bit.
Sighing, you turn the TV off and put the empty bowl on the table. You're already way too depressed, you don't need to see other people's happiness and regret about your own choices.
But that's the problem. You don't regret anything. You don't regret taking Fyodor's hand when he offered you a dance at that part, you don't regret spending time with him and having wet dreams about him at nights, you don't regret agreeing to come to this place;
you even know that he was the one who slaughtered your entire family, but you decide not to think about anything other than him because sometimes, ignorance is a bliss.
As you lean back to the couch, you wonder where your boyfriend- if you can even refer to him as that, is right now. What might he be doing? Is he planning another murder? Is he on a date with another poor woman to manipulate her, use her and then just throw her away like she's worth nothing? Is he holding her hand and whispering sweet promises about the future to her?
Ah, you just remembered.
His hands.
Fyodor has long, skinny hands and stretched, pale fingers. You admire the way his veins lay bare under his skin when he holds a coffee mug or writes a letter. His nails are always cut shortly, exhibiting his smooth skin and how he takes care of them. His hands are cold, not at a shivering state but cold enough for you to offer him your gloves, or just hold them to warm them up.
God, you can't wait to hold his hands again, and to feel them inside you once he finally gets around to it.
Sliding your hand in your pants, you close your eyes and imagine how his fingers would curl up and massage your sweet spot, dragging pleasure outside of your cunt. Will he be gentle, taking his time, making love to you? Or is he the kind to be rough and would make you scream his name by the end of the night? It's your call, since this is all an illusion and he isn't actually here.
Fyodor hates masturbation. He told you that once you brought the topic up on one of your dates. He thinks that it's pathetic, useless, and offending to a person's partner, But Fyodor isn't here; it's only you and your pitiable moans filling the room.
You whisper his name as you scissor yourself open on fingers that are actually supposed to be his, but unfortunately, they're attached to the pathetic body of yours. Tears find their way out of the corner of your closed eyes, staining your cheeks, and you wish he was here to wipe them off your face, plant a kiss on your forehead and say how well you're doing for him.
I miss you so much, Fedya…
You feel getting closer to your orgasm as your fingers speed up, but the sensation isn't nice, not as much as it would be when he's the one helping you out; yet this is all you're going to get for now, so you shouldn't complain and just take it.
With a cry out of his name, you come. Arousal covers your fingers and you have no choice but to clean them up with your mouth. Your whole body stings and you just lie there, panting and half way through crying. What would he do if he was here? Would he scold you? Punish you? Or say something like...
"What are you doing?"
Until a few minutes ago, you thought that when he comes back, you'll jump into his arms, kiss his face over and over while telling him how much you've missed him, and that he should bring you along with him everywhere he goes; but now that he's actually here, you just want this to be a mirage.
It isn't.
You desperately open your eyes and tilt your head toward the doorway, only to look at the tall man standing there through your blurry vision.
Fyodor is as handsome and terrifying as ever. There's a bouquet of roses in his hand, and he's wearing his usual outfit, an Ushanka and a black cloak. Everything looks the same as ever, except for the look on his face.
You expect him to be angry, to shoot daggers your way; but through the violet shades of his penetrating eyes, you find another emotion; one that intimidates you more than his anger and sends shiver down your spin.
Disappointment.
You stay silent and keep staring at his figure with widened eyes. Fyodor doesn't scold you. After a few seconds, he slowly walks toward you and places the roses on the table, standing next to the couch.
"May I take a seat?"
You want the ground to swallow you whole.
"S-sure, do as you wish"
He calmly makes himself comfortable on the couch, while you nervously curl yourself up against your side. Feeling like you need to explain yourself, you want to say that it's not what it looks like, but you know you would only tie yourself up in knots. Besides, it's exactly what it looks like, and Fyodor isn't stupid.
With an expressionless face, he points at the flowers on the table.
"These are for you"
Roses are your favorite type of flowers. Sitting there with your legs crossed and your arms wrapped around your shins, you sense his thoughtful gesture to be a slap in the face. Guilt and fear makes your heart ache yet you don't have the guts to start crying again.
You didn't want him to come back. Not like this.
"Ah, thank you..."
He couldn't have heard you since you mumbled so quietly, but he's got sharp ears. You look unsure when you stretch your arms out to pick the flowers up, but when you sniff them, your face brightens up with delight.
"They are lovely"
"So, care to tell me why you were calling out for me like that?"
He's not going to let it slide, is he?
"Nothing. Where have you been?"
"Answering my question with another one? I see"
While you struggle to breath, he takes his Ushanka off and places it between you, and all you do is watching him carefully for a reason you're unaware of yourself, but he probably is, since he's a mine of information and knows every twist and turn of your brain.
"To answer your question, I could say I was tying up a few loose ends. But fill me in, dear; was I hallucinating earlier? Because, either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"
You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words seem to have been erased from your mind and your tongue doesn't roll in your mouth as it did before. When he doesn't hear a response, he flashes you a pitying look and shakes his head.
"No comeback? You're not even denying it"
How long was he standing there anyway? Was he there from the beginning? Because god, if he was then you don't want to face him ever again.
"You know dear, I thought that we should wait until we were in a better place; but if you're so eager... I shouldn't keep you waiting for so long"
Ah, what?
When he catches you staring at him, like you're unable to believe your ears, he merely smirks; standing up and taking the direction to your bedroom.
"Aren't you coming, sweetheart?"
"I'm... coming..."
You don't have a clue of what is going on, still, you've waited for this moment from the year dot; you won't be letting it pass this easily.
As you enter the bedroom, the sight of Fyodor taking his cloak off catches your eye. He takes a peek at you from the corner of his eye, only to find you standing next to the wall awkwardly.
"What are you waiting for? Get undressed"
"...Ok"
Stripping out of your clothes, you feel slightly embarrassed when your whole body is exposed to him for the first time, and his eyes scanning you up and down are not exactly helping.
Fyodor pauses a little, like he wants to say something but he's not sure if he should; then looks you in the eye.
"Get on the bed"
You obediently listen to his demand and lie down on the bed, getting excited when he follows you to hover on top of you. He gently cup your cheek with his hand, and cracks a smile.
"I don't think I've ever told you how pretty your eyes are, Darling"
You blush at his sincere comment that gives you enough courage to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down a little so that your lips are only inches apart. The idea of you initiating the kiss doesn't even cross your mind; Fyodor is the one in charge and he has to have control over everything. Thankfully, he's kind enough to not push you away this time, playing along by attaching his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. And you kiss him back with so much desire and longing, like you did every night before going to sleep in your imaginations. You won't be doing that anymore, now that you have the real thing.
Not only Fyodor doesn't stop you when he senses your hands on his body, trying to unbutton his shirt, he even helps you out with some of them. You smile into the kiss when you feel a certain "something" pressing against your core, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.
"You sure get cocky, But I don't blame you dear; you certainly taste nice"
"Mhm... Touch me more, Fedya"
The mans face breaks into a mischievous grin. He places his hand on your collarbone, lightly rubbing it with his thumb.
"You want me to touch you more, Darling? Where do you want me to touch you?"
His hand roams down on your body, until it reaches to your boobs, And cups one of them.
"Here? or..."
You let his limb wander on your body, thrill taking over you as you anticipate where its destination might be. A soft moan skips your lips when he finally cups your womanhood, fingers teasing your clit.
"Maybe here? Hmm?"
"Fedya…"
"Yes, honey?"
You look at him with plead through your dewy eyes.
"Stop teasing and just give it to me, ok? I've been waiting for so long..."
Fyodor briefly examines your face and his small slowly fades away. You feel shaken by his sudden change of mood, wondering if you said something wrong.
"I will; but, do you think you deserve to be touched? You looked like you were having so much fun with your own hands back then"
As his gaze pierce through your soul, you find yourself to be in dire straits. Despite the position you're currently in, you know you should rack your brain and say something acceptable, or else you won't see the light at the end of the tunnel, or even tomorrow anymore.
"I'm... Really sorry about that... I guess I was just under so much pressure, you looked like you weren't attracted to me and you were gone for a quite amount of time... But It won't happen again, You have my word. I really am sorry"
As you wait for him to react to your genuine confession, his stare becomes more gentle, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.
"I know you are Darling, I know you are"
His fingers lightly rub circles on your clit to make your mind go numb while he deeps his face in the place between the pillow and your ear, making you shiver every time his lips brush against your earlobe.
"Tell me y/n; which feels better? My hand or yours?"
You choke a moan out as his digits slide inside with the help of the arousal from your lewd activity earlier. They are longer than your fingers; longer, professional, and more importantly, they belong to him.
"Y-yours of course, Fedya"
"Good girl. That's what I thought"
Fyodor doesn't hurry anything. His moves are calculated, and with each shove, his fingertips hit just the right spot. As you whine and hold him closer, you think about something more exciting. When he can make you feel this good only using his fingers, god helps you when he unzips his pants and opens you up on his probably lengthy cock...
Which makes you brave enough to ask him, because if he fingers you for a little longer, you'll probably come and the chance to make him feel good will slip away from your hands.
"Fedya honey..."
"What is it, Love?"
"I need to feel you inside me"
His smile looks dazzling.
"Aren't I already inside you, dearest?"
"You know what I mean!"
Pulling his fingers out, you almost regret asking him to do so, but you try to comfort yourself since he's gonna stuff you with something better and you won't be feeling empty for long.
"Alright then; but first, open your mouth for me baby"
Deeming he probably wants to clean his digits up, you part your lips to help him out, but instead of fingers, he leans closer and abruptly spits in your mouth. You're stunned, but you still swallow it down your throat under the proud look in his eyes.
"So perfect for me, Myshka. Now, lie down and relax. Let me handle things from this point"
As if he wasn't already.
You can't believe your eyes when he uncovers his member from his pants. It's not the thickest cock, but the length is definitely quite something.
Fyodor smirks as he catches you staring. He adjusts himself on your entrance and casts an eye on your expression.
"Does my darling like what she sees?"
"Yeah..."
"I bet you'll like it more when I'm fucking your cunt"
Yeah, no shit.
With a bright groan, he pushes himself into your hole. Your pussy is slick enough to devour his dick, but also tight enough to send pleasure his way. He has a breather before thrusting in and out you, find the steady rhythm and the perfect place to hit inside, making your eyes roll at the back of your head.
While Fyodor does everything, holds you in place, sucks hickeys on your neck and rubs your right nipple with his fingers, all you do is whine, hug him tightly and hover your legs over his back. You would've felt disturbed by how cold his body was; but you don't feel troubled, not even the slightest bit. There is no way you would feel like that when he makes you feel so warm inside. Its not just about fucking- it's about him, coming back to you, to understand the pain you went through, and make the most memorable night as a reunion. In this cold bed, you find your body and your heart getting warmed up by this Russian man's love and affection.
Fyodor fastens his pace at plunging in your pussy, meanwhile his tongue rolls around on the sensitive spot on your neck. It's unbelievable how he knows your body like the back of his hand while this is the first time he gets to lay a hand on you. You don't know whether to moan at his cock pounding inside your tight cunt, or at how he doesn't stop marking you up as his belonging.
"A-ah... Fedya… I'm getting close..."
"I can feel it, love. C'mon darling, Come for me. Show me how much you like it when I make love to you"
His praises send you over the edge. You feel so close, this unholy feeling is so addictive and you never wanna let go. Your body is firing up, you start shaking and you're only a little away from your release; which you'll surely get there soon, with Fyodor whispering sweet things in your ear.
"You're doing so good, Milaya…"
"So pretty for me, sweetness"
"Come for me, baby"
"Come for me, beautiful"
"Come for me"
"Come for me"
"Come for me"
You are literally on the verge of breaking apart on his cock, one second away from releasing all over him and make a mess out of his lower abdomen. You close your eyes and ready to feel the orgasm wash over your stress and sorrow and make you complete again; but in a split second, you feel a tremendous amount of pain, due to the sudden emptiness of your hole.
You feel miserable when Fyodor's length leaves your orgasm undone, and when you open your eyes to know the reason, you're met with the emotion you were searching for not so long ago.
There's the anger and daggers he was saving from your stare, to let them appear at the right time.
Now.
"Do you think you deserve to come, y/n?"
All the warmth you were feeling a while ago, all the heat and certainty was gone; now it's only fear and pain, germinating in your heart, making your chest ache.
His look is dangerous. It's not just anger. It's everything. Fury, disappointment, disgust. For the first time since you met Fyodor, you feel so scared, to your fingertips.
His grip around your throat snaps you back into reality.
"I'm talking to you, slut. Do you think you deserve to come? After what you were doing on my couch, shamelessly touching yourself like some common whore?"
You don't say anything. You can't. You can't even breath. You can't even if he let's go of your throat. You just want to die.
"Ungrateful little bitch. You're so full of yourself. So needy and pathetic. It grosses me out. What do you want me to do? To treat you like the princess you are? To turn a blind eye to your scandalous behavior and make your every wish come true? You think you're still in your daddy's house?"
"N- no- no- I- no-"
His hand finally let's go of your throat, but just as you're about to gasp for breath, his palm lands on your cheek.
"Don't talk back to me. I didn't give you permission to talk yet"
You only stare at him with disbelief, unaware of the tears that have been falling from your eyes from the moment his attitude changed.
It was never about you.
Never about affirming you.
Never about comforting you.
From the very first moment Fyodor set foot in the house, he came to torture you.
"Do you know what happens when you misbehave, precious?"
He knew what you were doing. He has always known.
And yet, you love him with every inch of your soul. With every breath coming out of your lungs.
"Worthless woman. I should throw you out in the streets, where you belong to. You'll die eventually, if some guy doesn't rip your throat apart. Is that what you want, woman? You want freedom? Help yourself! Get out of my sight and never come back again"
"No! I'm sorry! I won't ever do that again! I promise- !- Please! Please- I swear- Please believe me, Fedya!"
Another slap, landing on your other cheek.
"Don't say my name with that filthy, disgusting mouth of yours. Know your place"
You don't say anything anymore. As he keeps stabbing you with heartbreaking words, you only sob and bite your bottom lip so that your whimpers wouldn't interrupt him.
Fyodor looks at your pathetic state, and clicks his tongue. He gets up and picks his clothes from the ground, shooting a warning glare at you.
"Now, I want to see you try to masturbate again"
And with that, he leaves you in the bed, shattered into pieces.
It will never be about you,
And you hate yourself for not hating this, until the day you die.
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zumek0 · 5 months
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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aureatchi · 13 days
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⋆ ☽˚。 𓂃 ࣪˖ AND THAT DAY THAT WE’LL WATCH THE DEATH OF THE SUN . . . ft. FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY
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⟢ PRÉCIS. restless at an hour far too late to be awake, you take a quest to the personal library lit only by warm-toned ambient lamps and candles. however, you are greeted by one who chastises you to rest, and despite his pretty face you remain stubborn. in turn, he takes up a mission on his own; one that he alone will always win: to coax you to sleep.
◞ OR fyodor knows time is limited. if only you realized this was his labyrintian way of saying au revoir for now.
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ᡴꪫ a/n. it’s always his lap. been thinking about this scenario for awhile + re-inspired by the friends who played with my hair this week hehe. it makes me feel so sleepy. started to cope with ch113. :’) i hope this is decent ᡣ𐭩
ᡴꪫ info. fem!reader. fluff; sweetly suggestive in one part…and then hit with a train of angst; i warned u. soft fyodor. comfort/hurt ↻. religious imagery. it’s u trying to get him to sleep too. both poetic and shakespeare ramblings. bsd manga chapter 113 + s5 finale spoilers. russian may be incorrect. ノ wc. 3.1k+
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“Is there anything you find more powerful than manipulation?” 
Seated on the armchair across from yours, the ravenette took a sip of tea from his mug before setting it down. A bantering parley had taken place in between you two, filled with giggles and smiles, but in a moment without thought, you had brought up a more serious topic. 
“Actually, yes,” he responded. 
“A woman’s intuition.” You didn’t miss how his gaze slightly lowered. “The woman’s gut feeling is superior. If a man were to try manipulating her, she would know. No matter how naïve she was, the body would give her a single signal that could unravel his entire disposition at the fingertips.” 
You discreetly smiled, looking down at the mug. You knew Fyodor was referring to his experience with you. At one point in time, he tried to finesse you in schemes of calamity. But in response, you ruined him—he would dare not admit out loud that you had forcefully taken whatever mess his heart was and sewed it back together with the strings of your own soul. You did so without ever realizing either. After so many years on this earth, even he did not know how to mend himself. 
Now, he could only look at you as being the single thing that didn’t go wrong in the wasteland of the world. The ravenette almost considered you not of the world—you were as divine as the angels, after all. Perhaps it was his excuse to add along another duty the Father had commissioned to him—Fyodor would assure your safety and happiness through the rest of time—even once he got his hands on that book. 
Because if not plans that surged through his mind, it was his most cherished memories of you. 
Even though the room wasn’t too hot and the bed wasn’t uncomfortable, you could not go to sleep. You had tried counting sheep in your head for hours, but you still ended up awake well past midnight and had enough sheep for dozens of herds. 
You turned over in annoyance before you finally sat up. You didn’t understand why you felt such unease—maybe you drank your coffee too late in the day. A bad decision at that. 
You tapped the other side of the bed for a final check. Empty. Fyodor was still up. You would visit him in the office later, but for now, you’d give him the privilege of being unbothered. You decided on another place to visit���somewhere that would calm you down so perhaps you could finally catch slumber. 
The personal library. 
It was the coziest place, especially during the late hours of the evening, where the lights were warm and dim, not too hard on the eyes. Where the shelves were packed with literature and knowledge permeated the room with its philosophy. Fyodor annotated everything—so most books were scribbled in almost illegible cursive Russian. You always told yourself if you didn’t start to learn his lingo, you would be locked away from the library’s secrets forever. 
You tiptoed down the hallway until you reached the door at the end. You were thinking of picking up one of William Shakespeare’s tragedies and reading until either you fell asleep or the sun rose. You prayed it wasn’t the latter—though restless, you were exhausted too. And you didn’t want to suffer the consequences the next day. 
However, you were surprised to see the door already narrowly open. The lights were on and the candles were lit, too—was Fyodor not in his office? He seldom worked anywhere else and would always go to you as soon as he finished. 
You peeked through the slight crack in the door. He was indeed there—your lover’s back turned towards you, capturing all his charming enigma. How the man carried himself with the poise and elegance of a white dove, despite starting wars among nations. His mouth spoke of divinity while he ravaged the harmony of life with his hands. It was fitting; Fyodor was a juxtaposition in himself—you knew this, and so did he. 
“You can come in.” A second of pure silence passed before you opened the door to step inside. Not even a single noise was made, and yet, he recognized your presence. 
Almost shyly, you shuffled towards him. You did not plan for Fyodor to catch you—you were still in between deciding whether going inside was worth his lecture. 
Because although the handsome workaholic stayed up until absurd hours of the night, he did not want you following his ways. 
You circled the lounging area until you were in front of him, who closed the journal he was writing in. 
“Lyubov, why are you still awake?” he asked. 
Usually, you only stayed up out of anticipation in waiting for his return—whether from a mission or just to the bed. You were so stubborn that Fyodor would actually halt his work for a few days after being gone for awhile to sleep with you so that he was sure you were resting properly.
It was different this time. He had been home for the whole month, and despite being in his office for the majority of this week, you didn’t have any problem with going to bed without him until now. 
You shrugged with a quiet, “I’m not sure.” You eyed the unfamiliar journal. “Are you still working?” 
“Sort of,” Fyodor replied. “Would you like some chamomile tea? That will help.” 
You shook your head. “What do you mean ‘sort of?’ Last time I checked, you were either working or not.” 
“It’s not any more important than addressing the current problem at hand,” he calmly dejected the topic, leaving you confused. 
“What’s the current problem?” 
“You’re awake. You shouldn’t be at this hour.” 
“Well, now that I’ve found you here, I don’t think I can return to bed unless you come with me.” You dramatically yawned before stepping closer to him.
“Let’s go sleep, Fedya.” You tried dragging him up by the arm, but he stayed sat on the armchair, much to your disdain. 
“I cannot, I’m not done yet,” Fyodor replied. As you froze, he took your hand in his and brought you to his lap. 
“However, you must sleep.” He let you shift so that you were comfortable. “You came here to read?” 
“Yeah,” you replied as he handed you a book. What a mind reader Fyodor was—you were presented with The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. It would be the perfect reread. 
“Why this play?” you tested. 
“The pile of books you never put back on the shelves over there shows you’ve been reading a lot of tragedies lately,” he nodded towards the stack of books you read this week. “I thought you’d probably be in the mood for one by none other than the master of catastrophe.
“Plus, it’s fitting for you, too,” he added, voice a bit lower as he fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. “You’re so dramatic.” 
“Hey!” You pouted, moving away from him, pretending you were insulted. Though you knew too that further proved his point. 
“Maybe we should act it out,” you joked as you scanned through the pages to find a poem you were familiar with. “Act two, scene two.” 
“Hamlet’s letter to Ophelia,” Fyodor recalled. 
“Doubt thou the stars are fire;
“doubt that the sun doth move; 
“doubt truth to be a liar; 
“but never doubt I love.” 
“Dlya neye, v iskrennosti,” you squinted, reading the little note by the quote you did not understand. The Russian laughed at your terrible pronunciation. 
“Some scholars say that Hamlet used his words toward Ophelia as a manipulation tactic,” he stated. “He had a larger strategy at hand, and he rarely mentioned her unless she was on stage, with the exception of her death. If he harbored such a profound love for her, would Shakespeare not make it more direct? What do you think?” 
You contemplated for a few seconds, eyes drifting amongst the shelves of books as you felt your lover behind you gently run his fingers through your hair. 
“I think Shakespeare didn’t give us clarity for a reason. I’d like to believe Hamlet did love Ophelia. The story does not revolve around romance, after all—it revolves around revenge. A man with ambitious plans would not have love at the forefront of his head. Or, he wouldn’t speak aloud about it, at the least. Perhaps he was more reserved about that aspect of his life, too—he could’ve been shy to speak about it in front of all aristocracy—like you, for example.”
You giggled with a shrug, expressing your last phrase as lighthearted, but you still earned a slight frown from him. It was amusing that the nationwide terrorist was timid in everything concerning his love life. 
“Obviously, it could be taken as manipulation, too,” you continued. “But again, it’s not stated upfront for a reason. Shakespeare mirrors the complexities of a person in real life. You never quite know the truth of other people, no matter how much you think you know them.” 
Fyodor nodded, satisfied with your interpretation. “I wholly agree. It is why Shakespeare is enticing to many—he creates characters that simulate life’s universal themes and relatable human emotions when reacting to those situations. I only disagree with one point you made.” 
“Which one? You being shy?” you asked. He shook his head with a smile. 
“Perhaps I will reward you with that knowledge if you sleep.” He chuckled when you groaned in disappointment. 
“How about you just do your work while I read? Then, when you finish, we can leave together.” 
“If it were that easy. You’re a distraction, milaya.” 
You rolled your eyes. “No, I promise! I originally came here to read anyway—I won’t distract you this time.” You moved to one side of Fyodor’s lap so he would have space to do what he wanted. 
He did not answer you, instead making a quiet “tsk” when his fingers caught on a tangle in your hair. Fyodor worked to gently separate the knot. The terrorist was a perfectionist, but the mindset further stemmed past reaching twisted goals to create a world without flaws. Three spoons of jam in his tea, faint scratches on a deck of cards, and ensuring he had the satisfaction of reaching the ends of your hair with his fingertips were a few details he keenly paid mind to. 
You took his silence as a comply, and started to play out the tragedy of the Danish prince in your head while your lover brushed through your locks. Eventually, he picked his journal back up and continued to write information you paid no mind to.
You did not know how much time passed before you felt your eyes grow heavy. The faint ticks of the clock on the wall combined with the warm candlelight’s glow drew you to slumber. You closed Hamlet and shifted positions until you ended up straddling Fyodor. You buried your face in the crook of his neck until you could see nothing but dark. 
“Sonnyy?” 
He started stroking his fingers through your hair again, relaxing you even more. 
“Lublu tebya, kak angel boga, kak roso lyubit solovey. S toboy vremya ostanavlivaetsya, yi ya zhivu lish mgnoveniam ryadom s toboy.” 
However, the sounds of seconds passing by and intimate lighting adorning the room could not compare to the persuasion of your lover’s voice in his mother tongue. Foreign words spilled from his lips as rich as velvet, as soothing as a lullaby. If his voice, in general could put you in a trance, here he harbored the garden serpent’s master of temptation itself. Even if you did not understand him. Worst of all, he knew this. You had fallen into his trap long ago.
“Ya boudou skucha—what are you doing?” 
You were drowsily planting kisses on his neck. You stopped once the room became silent and looked up, catching his half-lidded amethyst gaze. The conjurer’s expression was for once softened—or perhaps it had been the entire time you were with him. It was a gift only you were blessed with. 
You smiled, a tad smugness in your look, before sitting up and giving him a shy peck on his lips. 
For a few seconds, you were both frosted in that moment of time—his hands wrapped around your waist, massaging circles onto your skin under your shirt as you straddled his own, your eyes fixated on his almost surprised, slightly flustered violet stare. The candles illuminated the room in such a way that made you think it was really only you two who existed in the world—your two souls someplace faraway where nothing else mattered but the sounds of your heartbeats and what you would do next after his mouth slightly parted. You were the most beautiful thing Fyodor had laid eyes on, throughout eras of people. 
You kissed him for the first time that night, and the ravenette kissed you back. It escalated to become sloppy—you were both too exhausted to care whether your lips were on his or if they instead trailed down to trace his jawline as sharp as those of the greek gods. Or when you were back on your lover’s neck—however, this time almost sucking, mesmerized by how easily you could bruise him. You did not need to wear lipstick to create deep red marks on Fyodor’s pale skin. 
“I told you that you’d end up being a distraction.” 
You shivered at cold fingertips dancing across your lower abdomen, though they were still quite far from anywhere you wished. You winced when Fyodor bounced you up in order to fix your position, but it offered a different effect. 
“Careful,” he warned. “That spot is visible to others.” 
Being the leader of the Rats in the House of the Dead and member of organization Decay of Angels placed the Russian at a high status in the underground world. He always restricted the places you could leave visible traces of affection on him whenever he had a new operation in front of him—Fyodor was one to uphold modesty. 
You sighed softly before disconnecting your mouth from his neck, only to unbutton the top half of his shirt. 
Like his hands, the demon’s heart was cold. He bore at least some sense of insensitivity to death—he had to; granting silence was part of his duty. However, something about you ignited a fire in him out of nothing, out of no help amidst ice—you were not given a flame nor torch to aid you.
If he was the one to destroy the world to pay the price of ridding sin, you were the one who rebuilt creation from the ground and up. You were unfazed by the city ruins; you were unfazed by Fyodor Dostoevsky, the man most feared in the world. A duality: to them, his hands soaked in crimson blood, but to you, they clasped around yours in adoration.
And since he’d met you, his heart was filled with the foreign warmth of love. Accompanied were trust, vulnerability, and your sweet, honey-like kisses that you littered all over his broad shoulders and chest, because he deserved love everywhere. 
He whispered against your ear, promising he would indulge you more another day, when you weren’t so sleepy. When both he and the moon had a little more time in the sky, was what he didn’t say. At the same time, he took a free hand to slowly guide your eyes to close, hovering barely above your eyelashes. 
You complied, with no more complaints, as he kissed you on the forehead. 
As Fyodor carried you down the hallway to the bedroom bridal-style about half an hour later, you dozed into dazy consciousness once again. 
“You have…another mission, hm?” you whispered, recalling the preceding hints he had given you. 
“Yes,” he quietly replied, walking into the dark bedroom. He tucked you under the covers before getting in right beside you. 
“Truly, why were you in the library?” you asked, getting out your final curiosity before you fell back to dream. 
“I did have a ‘sort-of’ job,” Fyodor replied. “Taking care of you. I was aware you’d show up.”  
“Please stay safe, Fedya.”
You knew something was off with the thunderstorm that came several weeks later. A vampire apocalypse—however fictitious that sounded—was happening back in Japan, but Fyodor kept you overseas at where you two stayed before departing. 
You didn’t ever touch his plans, but your mind finally processed how every event leading up until now seemed so wrong. The month-long stay—Fyodor had never done that before. The week you decided to read tragedies—you felt one even worse than those acted out in the theatre was coming. That night you stayed up—your gut was already screaming that he was about to depart again. 
And how this time would be different than before. Your intuition had warned you, yet you still fell asleep and let him leave. You stood before the journal the conjurer made sure caught your eye that night. With shaky hands and heavy rain beating down on the windows, you flipped through the pages. Confusion and tears formed in your eyes at the vague implication of what was written. 
Do not worry yourself with the death of all things that are seen and unseen by you. It is not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do. 
Rodnaya, you asked what I did not agree with concerning your thoughts about Hamlet loving Ophelia. Have you ever considered a man having both love and ideals at the forefront of his mind? Isn’t love a dream itself? 
Fyodor swore this when he judged how all could go wrong in the next step of his plan. Prior to meeting you, the calculating, confident smirk he always had on his face was authentic, and he simply assumed he would never fall to a mistake. 
But now the plans were adjusted to work around you; the schemes all ended to benefit you, too. If he misjudged something, not only would it fail the perfect world God deemed it to be, but it would also affect you through and through. 
Perhaps that was why he only almost saw you as an angel no matter how much you resembled one—no, you were far more glorious than one. You were human—so human that instead of looking down at him from above, you came down onto tainted soil and blessed him with a piece of heaven. Real empathy that now made him think of you as he sat with a rod pierced through his torso in the escape helicopter, doomed to death. 
You truly did ruin him. 
“Is there anything you find more powerful than manipulation?” 
And Sigma wondered how such a man so immoral and cruel actually loved someone else. As he searched through the demon's memories, he realized he must go much further back in time to find any helpful information for the brunette ability-nullifier who assigned him. 
Because if it was not anything relating to his plans that showed up through his search, it was every memory of you.
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translations: (please pardon me if they’re bad, :’) correct me if you are fluent and would like to!)
dlya neye, v iskrennost : for her, in sincerity
sonnyy : sleepy
lublu tebya, kak angel boga, kak roso lyubit solovey. : i love you like an angel loves God, like a nightingale loves a dew.
s toboy vremya ostanavlivaetsya, yi ya zhivu lish mgnoveniam ryadom s toboy. : with you, time stops, and i live only for moments next to you.
ya boudou skucha[t po tebe] : i will miss you.
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i heard if you rb, fyodor will come back to life. :’) reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3
you are so lovely if you read this. + thank you for 400+ followers; if you see this, rb + send a “🌹” with your fav bsd man + a song & i’ll write a short songfic if i’m inspired. :)
someone should’ve warned me about hozier. only started listening to him last month and i…can’t stop.
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© 2024 AUREATCHI. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + gradient line by benkeibear. animated line by benkeibear. manga header mine.
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osachiyo · 9 months
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Hii Can i request a scenario where Fem! reader want to try on Fyodor's hat? I think that it'd be s'cuteee>0<
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FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY X FEM!READER AUTHOR’S NOTE ! Hi!! I love this idea sm omg 😭 thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy! CONTENT WARNINGS ! None! Pure fluff <33
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You were currently waiting for Fyodor to be done with his shower. Usually you’d take a bath with him to shampoo and play with his slick black locks but he just didn’t feel like it tonight and you completely understood. But you just couldn’t help but stare at his ushanka that was placed on the table. You finally gave into your desires and took the furry hat from the desk, admiring it and you smooth your hands down the soft fur. You put the hat on yourself and stood infront of the mirror, admiring your little look. You had planned to put it back before your husband came out of the shower but you didn’t realize him already standing in th doorway, amused at your little show. “Enjoying yourself, my dear?” You jump as you hear Fyodor’s voice, snapping your head at his direction. God you looked so cute in his hat. If he had known you’d look this adorable, he would’ve let you try it on ages ago. You skip over to your husband, who’s staring at you with loving eyes as you giggle softly, tugging on his arm and asking how you look. He hummed in response, chuckling at your eagerness for a praise from him. “You look absolutely adorable, darling. Do you perhaps want me to buy you a matching hat?” He asked, pulling you in bed with him while you snuggle even closer to his cold body. “I already like yours, Fedya,” your voice is muffled from your head being buried in his chest as he chuckled softly, patting your head.
After a few moments of silence, you speak up, “I love you, Fedya. You make me really happy.” You pulled back from his chest then stared directly in his eyes your eyelashes fluttering so innocently at him. He smiled in response, “I love you too, my dear wife.”
He adored these moments with you as much as you did with him.
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©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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honeydazai · 24 days
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ok ok but hubby Fyodor gave me an idea, he’s figured out i get worried when his anemia gets bad so i fuss over him
imagine like,,, him using that against u. like if he’s losing an argument, or he just wants attention, he fakes sickness to get u to drop everything ur doing and come to his aid, u immediately feel bad so he uses that to manipulate u
feat.: Fyodor / reader
content: husband Fyodor, some manipulation but it's cute, Fyodor pretending to be a pathetic meow meow, fluff, sick fic
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Fyodor is fragile, that much you're aware of.
Despite his quick mind, so sharp you reckon it could cut diamond, and his powerful ability, his physical body is still frail. His skin is pale, most likely since he spends too much time inside, hunched over in front of his many PC screens, providing him with no light other than the gloom of LED monitors, thin fingers tip-tapping away on the keyboard. His undereye circles are dark enough for you to seriously worry about his health, and the many blue veins visible on thin eyelids only make him appear more sickly.
The anemia doesn't help, either; thin lips occasionally turn whiteish the longer he insists he's going to take his iron supplements once he's done with work — when is he, ever? — and his nails, kept short not only for the sake of being able to play the cello, but also since he continued biting at them, are coloured blue so often you have almost forgotten what they usually look like.
Fyodor, despite being an internationally wanted terrorist, is fragile, and that's exactly why you're unable to stop the way your chest suddenly aches with concern when he goes quiet mid-argument, gaze unfocused, glassy, as he sits down on the bed.
This really isn't the time to worry about him, especially since, just a few moments ago, you were snarling at him, obviously angered for a reason that seems entirely unimportant right now — and yet you can't help it either, your concern an emotion that blooms in your chest so very naturally, given just how much he means to you.
“Are you alright?” The words leave your mouth before you know it; your brows furrowing as you kneel down next to him, one hand on his thin upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin is cold. “Do you need anything?”
“I'm quite alright, dear. I would hate to bother you, especially when you still seem to harbour disdain for me.”
Even his voice sounds frail. Guilt gnaws at your every bone.
“That's not—”, you protest, a feeble attempt, though you're quick to swallow the urge to start another argument down the moment he rests his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut, ebony lashes against snow pale skin. “I don't 'harbour disdain' . I didn't even want to fight with you, it just — happened, but that's not important now. Let me help. Did you take your meds today?”
“Not yet, I'm afraid”, Fyodor says softly, and you're up on your feet almost immediately, making your way towards the kitchen to snag the offending pills, as well as a glass of water.
“You know you're supposed to take them daily with lunch.”
“That is merely to avoid forgetting them, to build a habit. The presence or absence of sustenance has no actual effect on them.”
Your eyes narrow. Fyodor allows a tired chuckle to leave his lips.
“Alright. I will try to take them regularly — for you, dear.”
Where, just a few minutes ago, you felt the urge to slap him with wrath — not that you ever would, not that you'd dare to, but the desire certainly is there whenever he acts all high and mighty, all-knowing, even around you —, your chest now tingles with warmth, with fondness. With love.
“Thank you. Are you feeling better already?” That's to be doubted, especially since he only took the pills a moment ago. Still— “Do you need anything? Maybe something to eat — yes, I bet you haven't eaten anything in a while now, too focused on work. You're impossible. Just lie down and give me a moment, I'll be right back.”
With those words, you vanish into the kitchen, already grabbing some vegetables. A quick soup is going to have to do.
Little do you know that, while you're busy worrying and fussing over him, there's a smile playing over Fyodor's lips ever so often, vanishing the moment you enter the room once more.
You really are too easy — though that's exactly what makes you quite this lovable.
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OH. Oh, he would.. he so would... this is the most in character take ever...
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cheriiyaya · 2 months
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Hmmm fedya w tied up hair (also wrote this during english class so not proofread!!)
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"Couldn't you be a bit more gentle dear?" Your lover tsked as you pulled back his dark tresses into a little pony-tail. Normally fyodor wouldn't be caught dead being like this-being so gentle- but how could he say no when you asked him so innocently, with those wide eyes of yours that he loved, if you could tie up his hair.
He just couldn't.
"Sorry, am I Hurting you?" You tilted your head to the side and fyodor could hear the slight tremble of worry in your voice.
"Not at all, do as you like, just try not to pull so hard." You nodded and resumed pulling his hair back, fingers gliding over the shiny, silky strands.
You quickly pulled his hair into a hair tie and tightened it. Then, you walked over to his side and leaned in front of his, brushing stray hairs away from his face.
"You should do this more often fedya, you look so pretty like this." You hummed, pressing a quick.kiss to his cheek. Fyodor felt his lips curl upwards and just as you were about to pull away he gently placed two long fingers under your chin and guided you back to him, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of your lips.
When he spoke, his voice carried the pure adoration he held for you.
"Not as pretty as you, moya lyubov"
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n0cturnalcm · 6 months
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Meursault aftermath where Nikolai save Fyodor and he take care of him! It's canon btw Fyolai is real
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coolyiooo · 9 months
Text
BSD Men Dealing With Your Mood Swings
parings: Dazai, Fyodor, and Chuuya
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First time writing something other than smut 😶🔫
🖤DAZAI🖤
You were having a bad day, not only because you started your period but also some drama was happening between some friends of yours, so you were ranting to your boyfriend while driving. He was being the passenger princess.
"And then she was all like ' that's none of your business ' "
"Oh shit-" he said with a hand over his mouth, actually invested with your tea
"I know! And I was like-"
You suddenly heard one of your favorite songs playing on the radio
"Hold on- babe, this song is my jammm"
You started to vibe with the music and sing long with it, completely forgetting about your drama you had earlier in the day.
Dazai was a bit baffled but he started to laugh at how your mood just did a whole 360. He actually started to vibe with the music with you.
Another day, another pain of suffering of cramps, hormones, and blood 🤢 you were mad, annoyed, disgusted, and sad all at once. You literally just arrived at the ADA office and immediately said, in a monotoned voice
"I'm going to hang myself" And sat down
Everybody in the office was a bit worried and confused, they all faced Dazai to see if he'll comfort you and be a good bf but all he said was
"I'd never thought I'd hear you say those words" he had stars in his eyes.
Everybody gave him a disgusted look and he could feel it. He chuckled nervously and said
"I- I mean why don't I go to the store to buy all the snacks you want!"
" Aweeee thanks babe!"your mood immediately changed.
Dazai mentally gave himself a high five.
When work was over you were comfortable in the couch, covered in blankets, heat pad on your stomach, and reading your book. Everything was perfect when suddenly your boyfriend came in. You gave him an intense side eye and he immediately noticed.
"Uh- what's wrong, princess?"
"I need you to leave" you said straight up with no remorse.
For a second he looked a bit shocked, wondering if he did something. You felt bad but suddenly saw how pretty he was, so you used that as an excuse to let him down easy.
"your distracting me with your beauty" You went back to reading your book
He was baffled once again but then was flattered and smiling to himself. He left the room to yourself. He was a bit taken aback by the aggressive, flirting comment but a win is a win.
He'll try his best to comfort you during these times. I feel like sometimes he's the reason your mood is just sky rocketing all over the place, but he'll make up for it.
💜FYODOR💜
You were literally being a couch potato. Covered in blankets but also chips, crumbs, and snacks.Fyodor came in the room and saw the mess you surrounded yourself in.
"My dear, is it too much to ask for you to clean up after yourself?"
"Shut up your anemic" you retorted back with no sympathy.
Nikolai was in the same room as you two were in and tried his best not to burst out laughing . You realized what you just said and immediately began laughing. Fyodor was slightly taken by surprise by your bold comment but his face showed no emotions except for 'you better stop if you know what's good for you'.When you noticed his face, you immediately stopped laughing. Fyodor then walked towards you, you were starting to get scared
"w-wait! I'm on my period I'm sorry!"
He stopped in front of you "yes, I can see my love"
"I- ...I'm sorry" you said timidly
He looked back at you with dark eyes "just clean up after yourself, darling" he kissed your forehead and left the room.
"Your lucky he loves you" Nikolai commented
Later that same day you were laying your head on Fyodor's lap as he was petting your hair, reading a book. You were staring at his legs and randomly said
"You have very pretty legs, they look like they belong to a woman"
He immediately stopped what he was reading and looked at you. You stared back at him.
"I meant that as a compliment of course. I mean your just very beautiful"
He stared back at you with a hint of concern, but then reverted back to a straight face
"My dear, just go back to sleep" he said, gently scratching your head
Next day you were sitting on the bed, late at night, reading a book. Fyodor came in and stared at you. He was just surprised you were still awake but you felt judged.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You said in a bratty tone
"Am I... Really that ugly?" You asked with curiosity and started to feel a bit down
He closed his eyes and deeply sighed "of course not, my love. Your more than beautiful" he sat next to you on the bed
"How so?" You pouted
He gently stared into your eyes "Your captivating, enchanting, and even pulchritudinous"
(Yes, that's a real word)
You didnt even know what that last word meant but since it sounded pretty, you felt flattered. You hugged his arm and kissed his cheek.
"Ugh thanks, Fedya. I love you" you had a smile on your face and snuggled close to his chest.
He smiled slightly "I love you more" he said, kissing the top of your head.
He usually doesn't take whatever you say seriously during these days just because of your mood swings and how this isn't what you'd normally do or say, but he'll still try to make it bearable for you and a little for him as well. You should definitely give him a thank you for dealing with your bs.
🧡CHUUYA🧡
He already knew you started you period. He low-key seems like the guy to track it down and stuff so he bought you a bunch of snacks. Usually when your on your period he cuddles with you so when he arrived at your shared place he went to go look for you. He found you laying flat on your face on the bed.
"Hey babe, how are you feeling?"
You responded by soft groaning
"Awe I'm sorry baby, I got you your favorite snacks. I hope that makes you feel better" he laid the bag down on the night stand.
He saw that you weren't moving, and out of sympathy, he touched your head.
"Don't touch me" you mumble in a strict tone
Normally he would probably be concerned but he understands that it's just your period talking and understands you probably just want to be alone.
"I'm sorry, let me know if you need anything" He said before making his way out the room
You lifted your head up looking back at him "wait, where are you going?" Your tone sounding sad "don't go"
He was confused but then you reached your arms out to him.
"I change my mind please cuddle with me" you said almost as an order
Your change in tone and mood startled him. He didn't want to make it worse by disobeying your order so he cuddled with you. You started playing with his hair and scratching his head. His thoughts were that he's the one supposed to help you relax not the other way around but the more you looked at him the more you realized just how literally gorgeous the man was.
"Chuuya, your so prettyyy" you said while kissing his cheek
He was starting to blush "the more I look at you the more breath taking you get" you then smothered him with kisses.
A moment ago you were literally not wanting any physical touch and now look at you, you can't keep your hands off him. Not like he's complaining though, but he's definitely struggling to keep up with your mood swings.He was about to respond back to you with compliments, but you then stopped your kissing and said
"now let me sleep I'm tired" you patted his chest gently and rolled out of his arms. Now he was just dazed.
He'll try to make you the happiest he can during your days of the month overall and you should definitely give him your gratitude for being a good bf
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luvvannie · 3 months
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!? --- YOUR HUSBAND, FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY
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>> husband!fyodor x fem!reader (one use of 'princess,' and 'milaya,' but other than that, pretty gn!)
syn. a compilation of husband fyo headcannons :)
gen. fluffier than his hat
care.
i see a lot of people making him out to be so confident and MPH and although i am not here to undermine that thought (bc i am also horrendously in love w/ that possibility), i simply bring to the table SHY FYO !!!
like like like :(((((( him expressing his care for in like the most subtle ways,, like memorising your nap schedule and working around it for dates and outings AAAHH
and then ud be like 'but fyo isn't that time difficult for u??' and he'd respond 'but thats an hour after the time u wake up from ur nap in the evening so ull have enough time to get ready and pick ur outfit and do ur hair and ur makeup' AND THEN ULL BE LIKE 'AWWW FYOOOOO' and then he'll be so confused bc to him it's like how was that cute i was just being practical 🧍‍♂️
going off of the whole memorising things about you... i feel like he would just have your orders for whatever place written off on a little sticky note in the back of his mind... like he NAILS ur order without so much as a confirmation from you... it's like watching a well-oiled machine run tbh, 'one ___ but without the ___ and extra ___ and also a ___ in a meal with a ___. thank you." LIKE WOW!!! THATS UR MAN!!!
physical affection.
okay listen... still going with shy fyo but steering a little away because AFFECTIONATE FYO???? FYO WHO WILL RANDOMLY GRAB YOUR HAND OUT OF NOWHERE AND STROKE HIS THUMB OVER YOUR KNUCKLES, BEFORE TAKING YOUR HAND TO HIS LIPS AND KISSING EACH FINGER??? FYO WHO WILL WALK INTO THE ROOM, KISS YOUR TEMPLE AND TELL YOU HE LOVES YOU WHILE YOURE JUST MINDING YOUR OWN BUSINESS AND THEN WALK BACK OUT LIKE HIS BUSINESS WAS FINISHED???? FYO WHO WILL WALK UP BEHIND YOU WHILE YOU'RE COOKING OR DOING CHORES AND JUST BACKHUG YOU AND STAY LIKE THAT FOR THE NEXT HUNDRED BEATS???????? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH
i think it definitely wldve taken a while for him to adjust tho. just imagining him at the very start of ur relationship when u both were just silly little college students and you would put your arms around him for a hug and he would just STIFFEN COMPLETELY and not know how to respond... BUT HE GOT THERE IN THE END OKAY!!
i think i may go as far as to argue that he will be the one initiating most of it now... although that's not to say you don't do any of it, because you most definitely do.
i think his favourite is your hugs :(( although i don't think he would ever say that outloud..
householding.
he doesn't like it when you do chores. like he REALLY REALLY doesn't like it...
when you first started living together (before marriage), and he would find you washing dishes, he would just silently come beside you and bump you out of the way and take over without a word LMAOOO
he has gotten more used to it however,, considering the fact that he, unfortunately for him, cannot princess you for every waking hour... he still doesn't love it though. he would much rather you sit there and look pretty and not raise a fingertip.
cooking is an exception though, because he likes doing it with you :((
BUT NO KNIVES AND ESPECIALLY NO CHEESE GRATERS AFTER THAT ONE TIME YOU ACCIDENTALLY CUT YOUR FINGER GRATING A CARROT...
you get to do the fun stuff though, like measuring the ingredients and mixing them all together. i really don't think he's that vocal though, he'll just kinda do him part and then nudge the bowl towards you silently like 'its ur turn do ur thing'
he loves that you're talking your ass of the entire time, something about it feels so endearing to him... the whole time he'll just be giving you small, half-sentences like...
'FYOOOO THE BATTER IS ON MY SHIRTTTTTT!!!'
'that's why i tried to roll up your sleeves earlier, darling...'
'ITS GOING TO STAIN!!!!!!!!!!'
'just... we can just wash it off...'
'HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEEE!?!?!?!?!'
'uhm... you have something on the-'
'AAAAAAAAA ITS ON THE FRONT'
'i told you to wear an apron...'
healing.
when you're sick, he's gone complete caretaker mode... he will NOT allow you to get up from your resting space (whether it be the bed, or the sofa), NO MATTER WHAT THE CIRCUMSTANCES.
he'll cook you very good meals!! making sure they're healthy for you and also extremely tasty so that he can try to coax you back into your appetite and get you the nutrients you need to get better :(( carries you your meals on a little lap desk, and will spoon-feed you each bite until you've had enough, AND ONLY UNTIL YOU'VE HAD ENOUGH!
he's just overall very gentle with you :((
you've lost your appetite and can't have anymore than half of the portion he cooked for you?? 'it's alright love, i'll save it for later.'
your blocked nose is keeping you up and you haven't been able to sleep the entire night because of it?? 'oh, milaya, why didn't you tell me sooner?' before he gets you some nose drops and then rocks you to sleep in his arms.
you're sad because you can't go out for date night like the two of you planned for anymore?? THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN'T HAVE A GOOD NIGHT IN EACH OTHER'S COMPANY!! ITS GO FISH TIME!!!! (yes he will use his expensive playing cards to play go fish with you just to make you feel better he's THAT devoted)
de-stressing.
those nights when you're both stressed and tired and overstimulated out of your minds are strangely enough, your favourite nights, because you know that you'll be able to come home to your loving husband and disappear into his warmth...
you get home a little earlier than he does, so you take the opportunity to warm the bed, as you wait for him to arrive with your mandatory de-stress-cuddles, and before you know it, you're drifting off...
until you're awoken again by the feel of the warm covers gliding against your skin, and the mattress shifting slightly beneath you, opening your eyes to see ITS YOUR PACKAGE!!! ITS HERE!!!!!
you both don't waste any time and practically envelope each other with warmth take a few moments to situate yourselves, mumbling a few croaky 'i love you's before completely falling asleep.
you'll pay for sleeping in your uncomfortable work clothes when the two of you wake up again around three in the morning and decide to FINALLY shower... and then go back to bed.
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a/n. hehe first post on this acc yayayay!! hope these were good :)) i'm so inlove with him oh my lord... N E WAYS REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!!
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