#fyodor dostoevsky fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fyorina · 3 months

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ᡣ𐭩 TELLING THEM THEY'RE PRETTY!

FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol

SUMMARY: telling the bsd boys that they're pretty! (wordcount: 3.5k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i had cute dividers but this won't show up in the tags if use them D: ! i had sooo much fun with this! i hope you guys enjoy! :D

DAZAI OSAMU

You can’t seem to drag your gaze away from him.

As a long day of work comes to an end, you rest your head on your arms and lean on your desk. Kunikida is still tapping furiously away at his computer, Tanizaki and Naomi are whispering about something together, Ranpo is sorting through his candy, and Atsushi and Kyouka are looking through files. But your eyes are tracing over Dazai Osamu as he leans back in his chair, lazily spinning and bobbing his head to the music he’s listening to.

The setting sun casts an ethereal glow over him, his lips idly turned up and his lashes brushing his cheeks as rests his eyes waiting for the day to end. Dazai Osamu is pretty—you’ve always acknowledged that—but there’s something about the peace of this moment, the domesticity of the office and the ambience of the lighting that has you utterly enraptured.

He looks so at ease, and Dazai Osamu is never at ease. Even when he throws up that clownlike mask of his and spends his day entertaining under the guise of joy and humor, you can always see the strain in the corner of his eyes and lips. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible really—if you were anyone else, you’d miss it, but you’re not anyone else, much to his displeasure, because you know he hates how easily you can see right through him.

After a few minutes, Dazai peeks his eyes open—and you’re almost breathless, because his eyes are like melted honey beneath the sunset, warm and gentle, glittering with amusement. You think you can stare at him forever and never tire of it.

He rolls his chair closer to you, resting his forearms on your desk so that your arms are brushing and laying his head down on them so that his face is mere inches from yours, matching your position. There's a smile on his lips, soft and teasing as he whispers, "You've been staring at me for five minutes."

"Mhm," you agree, voice just as quiet as if to not disturb the tranquility of the office. You can feel his breath light against your face from the proximity he's laying at and you can smell peppermint on his breath from the candy you’d seen him swipe from Ranpo’s desk earlier when the other man had gone to speak to Fukuzawa.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks playfully, dark eyes glimmering as he waits for your response.

You can tease him back and say yes, as you usually do and is probably what he expects—and you fully intend to do just that but the words that leave your lips are not that.

“You just look really pretty today,” you say softly, watching as his eyes widen just a bit at your words, pink dusting his cheeks.

His lips part to say something but no words leave them. He opens and closes them a few times and you marvel because Dazai must know that he’s pretty from all of the attention he gets from women, so you don’t understand why he’s so thrown off hearing you voice it out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him genuinely speechless before now.

“So you don’t think i’m pretty every other day?” Dazai pushes his bottom lip out into an over-exaggerated pout, recovering swiftly from your words, though you expected nothing less from him. But you can’t help but note that his cheeks are still a bit pink and there’s something indecipherable in his eyes.

“Prettier than usual,” you amend and watch as the flush on his cheeks darkens and he instead resorts to completely burying his face in his arms with a frustrated groan.

“I am supposed to be the flirt, bella,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms as he hides his face from your view. He cannot hide the way his ears have gone bright red, and you have half a mind to reach out and tug at them

You lift your hand to your lips to hide the giggle that rises to your lips, scooching your chair a bit closer so you can knock your shoulder against his.

“I’m not flirting,” you say. “Just stating a fact.”

He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can give you a heavy side eye—you can only barely see the red hue coating his cheekbone.

“Not mutually exclusive,” he says grumpily, and you lean down to press your lips against his now exposed forehead, smiling softly as his eyes instinctively flutter shut and his body relaxes as the touch.

Then, you receive a pencil to the side of your head. You yelp as your hand flies to where it had made contact with you, scowling at your assailant who is none other than Ranpo, smiling widely as he waves at you and then motions to Kunikida, who is red faced and staring at the two of you. You can’t tell if it’s in embarrassment or anger.

“Not during work hours,” he snaps, and you realize that he’s definitely embarrassed, so you share a short look with Dazai, who has regained that mischievous look in his eyes as he glances over at Kunikida and back at you.

Without saying a word, or giving any other sort of warning, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short and chaste kiss, but his lips are soft and taste of candy, and you think you might be able to kiss them forever if you get the chance.

Now you’re the one flustered, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at Dazai, who is evidently thoroughly pleased to not be the one uncomposed if the unscrupulous grin on his lips has anything to say about it.

He tosses you a wink before rolling his chair back over to his desk, animatedly complaining about Ranpo and Kunikida being lonely and bitter and getting in the way of Dazai’s chance at true love because of it—you only roll your eyes at his dramatics, as you usually do when Dazai goes off on tangents, but it’s with much more fondness this time.

•••

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

You are not listening to a single word that he’s saying.

It’s a dangerous situation to be in with Fyodor Dostoevsky, you’re sure he’s noticed by now and he will be petty enough to finish his brief about his plans and your involvement and then ask you to repeat what he said, but you just can’t focus.

He tied his hair back, you note, still quite a bit awed by the sight. There are two locks framing his face and his bangs are falling between his eyes, but the rest of his hair, which has grown a bit long in the weeks that he’s been ardently preparing for the final stages of his plan, is pulled back into a lax bun.

He looks so casual, and Fyodor Dostoevsky never looks casual. He’s dressed in a turtleneck and loose pants as he leans back in his chair. There’s a folder resting on his lap that he’s idly flipping through and he keeps glancing up at you occasionally, pale lips flat and violet eyes disapproving, but you just nod along to his words even though you know that he knows that you’re not paying attention.

And you think, distantly, that you probably should be paying attention because he’s talking about your upcoming mission and what you should expect from it but you figure you’ll be fine—it’s a simple infiltration mission, nothing to worry about. And you’d much rather prefer to appreciate Fyodor’s rare repose than to listen him droll on about boring topics.

Sometimes, you think if he just kept his mouth shut all the time, he’d be perfect. But you think you’d miss his sharp-witted comments and the lengthy debates the two of you have after a few glasses of wine.

He looks extra pretty tonight, even beyond the casual hairstyle and clothes and his uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor, and you think it’s because of the way the flames of the fireplace are casting an enchanting orange and red glow over his face. It makes the violets of his eyes burn alive in a way that they usually don’t, you’re far too used to the glacial visage they take whenever he puts his attention on someone. Every time he glances up at you, you swear that you can get lost in them.

“… And you are not listening to a word that I am saying, are you?”

Fyodor is giving you the heaviest side eye as he finally calls you out, expression unamused. His brows are furrowed and his pale skin is taut with thinly veiled irritation.

“Of course, I am,” you dismiss, waving your hand. “Infiltration mission, detective agency, get close to the tiger boy.”

Fyodor looks distinctly unimpressed by your words, brows deepening—you figure you must have spoken wrongly, you probably shouldn’t have been so indifferent, and you bite back a sigh before reaching forward to press two fingers between Fyodor’s eyebrows, as if to forcibly smooth away his annoyance.

He blinks and draws back, out of reach of your arm, and then casts you an even more irritable look.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accuses. “This mission will be dangerous, you’ll be at risk of being exposed every moment you are in the agency and if you are exposed-“

“Your plans will be ruined,” you finish, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes. “I kno-“

“You could be killed,” Fyodor corrected, voice cold and sharp, and you look back over to him. He looks unusually intense, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the appearance that the flames of the fireplace are giving him as they flicker dangerously across his face or if it’s because he’s that displeased with you being distracted. Either way, you find your mind drifting again because wow. “Dazai Osamu is not a man to be taken lightly. When he manages to figure out who you are and what you’re doing, we will need an immediate extraction plan.”

“Careful, Fyodor,” you drawl, watching as his violet eyes narrow briefly, “almost sounds like you care.”

Fyodor’s lips twist but he doesn’t respond. You raise your eyebrows, he looks away. Your eyes shoot open.

“You have a bigger role to play,” Fyodor finally says, but he’s no longer looking at you. “You cannot be killed yet.”

“Yet,” you repeat, amused. Fyodor’s jaw tightens, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are trained on the fireplace to the side of the two of you and you can vaguely see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning ardently against the familiar violet.

You lean forward again, shifting off of the couch to sit on the coffee table between the two of you so you can reach him. You reach forward to brush your knuckles against his cheek—he doesn’t move away this time, but his eyes cut to the side to watch you carefully.

You don’t say anything for a moment, absently tucking one of the locks of hair framing his face behind his ear. His hair is soft, freshly washed—for once—it smells faintly of lavender and vanilla and you wonder if he stole your conditioner.

“You look very pretty tonight, Fyodor,” you say quietly, and then smile. “It’s hard to focus when you look like this.”

The expression Fyodor directs toward you is extraordinarily blank, except for the faintest specks of pink that glare compared to the pallor of his face.

He shakes his head, looking away from you yet again.

“… You cause me much suffering,” he murmurs, and somehow, you know that might be the closest you might get to an admission of love from Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You smile to yourself. “And you to I,” you say, voice a bit teasing, and then you add, “Now, can you tell me again what to look out for?”

The moment is ruined. Fyodor’s eye twitches and he’s giving you that unamused look again, and you think having him repeat himself might be a mistake because now you’re even more distracted, but Fyodor sighs and starts on his lecture again so you force yourself to listen.

It takes about three minutes for him to release a sigh of utter suffering when he realizes that your eyes have glazed over yet again.

•••

NIKOLAI GOGOL

Nikolai has a wild sort of beauty about him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and it’s widely apparent in his frenzied laughter and chaotic behavior. His eye glitters and his teeth gleam sharply beneath the glow of the moonlight as he waves his hands around, animatedly describing to you all of the details of the things he’s been doing while you were away.

Fyodor’s masterplan has involved Nikolai apparently taken upon an infiltration role at the ministry of defense—you think it’s a bold move for Fyodor to use Nikolai for such a tenuous mission, but he’s apparently been having the time of his life with it. Though he thinks his boss is deplorable and one of his coworkers has evidently pissed him off beyond repair, because now he’s telling you about how he’s been ‘pranking’ the man in righteous vengeance.

You think Nikolai’s idea of pranking varies from yours, because you’re pretty sure him using his ability to break into the man’s house constitutes a crime not a prank. But you don’t have it in you to make that distinction when he’s so excitedly telling you about how every day he’s been going into his house to move around all of his stuff and hide some of his belongings to make the man squirm. He’s succeeding outstandingly in his ambition, if the videos he’s waving in front of you have anything to say about it.

You watch as he frantically scrolls to the next video—“this one is the best,” he claims, as he has for every video thus far. You watch with an amused smile as his dark-haired coworker steps into his apartment and nearly starts crying when he realizes that all of his stuff has been moved again, scrambling for his phone to call the police, who have—according to Nikolai—apparently already told him multiple times that there’s nothing they can do about it. The video is shaking wildly, as if the person filming can barely hold the camera straight, and you’re convinced that’s exactly what it is because you can hear Nikolai’s muffled laughter coming from recording.

Nikolai naturally finds it much funnier than you do, half-way keeling over as he wheezes, his laughter shattering the peaceful night. The two of you are sitting at a park near the apartment that Fyodor had leased for you for the duration of the Yokohama operation. The moon is high in the sky, casting a bewitching glow over the lake in front of you and there’s a chill in the air—it’s a nice night all around, you think there will probably some frost dusting the grass in the morning but the cold hardly bothers you now with Nikolai pressed to your side as he laughs himself into a near-coughing fit over his harassment of his coworker.

“Why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai suddenly complains loudly, scowling at you, but even then he keeps having to bite back residual laughter whenever he glances back down at his phone. “It’s funny.”

“It is funny,” you agree. Nikolai gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you. “It is.”

“Then why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai accuses doubtfully, and then adds, even more accusatory, “You hate me.”

You’re not sure why you aren’t laughing, honestly. Usually you’d be burying your face into his shoulder trying to smother your snickers, because even though you might not entirely agree with Nikolai’s idea of a prank, you can still find some humor in it. Because it is kind of funny. Kind of.

But then you realize that you’re probably not laughing because you’ve been spending most of the night admiring Nikolai rather than listening to him prattle on about his escapades and watching his poorly recorded videos, so you can’t fully appreciate the humor in the videos. With his cheeks flushed from copious amounts of laughter and his eyes glowing with excitement, you think he’s very pretty tonight—Nikolai is always pretty, but the angle at which he’s sitting leaves the moon haloing behind his head, and maybe it’s just because you’ve missed him the past few weeks when you’ve been abroad dealing with a territory dispute with Tolstoy, but you think there’s something special about tonight.

“I don’t hate you. I guess I’ve been too busy admiring you,” you finally say, a playful smile on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “You look pretty tonight.”

Nikolai blinks, eyes wide and owlish as he processes your words. The longer he goes unresponsive, you acknowledge that a quiet Nikolai is far more unnerving than a loud and erratic Nikolai, you’d expected a more… theatrical response to your comment. A swish of his cape, him leaping to his feet with a twirl and an agreement, even just a wild laugh; instead, he looks away abruptly. He doesn’t even just look away, he physically turns his whole body away from you.

You blink.

“Nikolai?” you ask, a bit astonished when he literally ignores you. You lean forward, trying to get a look at his face, but then he swivels around even more and your lips part in shock. “Nikolai.”

You’re only met with a face full of his soft white hair, impeccably braided, as per usual—you have half a mind to tug at it hard to try to get a response from him, but you aren’t in the mood for the lewd comment that would likely spill from his lips after.

“Koly-“

“Poor me, poor me,” Nikolai suddenly cries loudly, “The little koshenya mocks me when all I do is try to make her laugh. Poor me, poor me.”

His hand flies to his face, melodramatic as he bemoans your alleged cruelty. You stare at him, mind trying to piece together what exactly is happening—Nikolai is always hard to predict, but you feel like this is a bit strange even for him, and that’s saying something.

“… What?” you start to ask but Nikolai has thrown himself into a loud and theatrical tirade about how he doesn’t deserve such injustice and how he was only trying to make you laugh, and how it’s so, so cold-hearted of you to taunt him when this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in weeks.

Nikolai is impossible to bargain with when he gets like this, so you only sigh and tilt your head up to the sky, his words flying in one ear and out the other as you wait for him to settle down on his own.

Instead, you swear the world is against you because rather than settling down, he becomes increasingly more noisy and distressed, and his accusations become even more asinine. Now, he’s saying that you’ve always had it out for him and how you weren’t laughing at his jokes because you hate him and want to report him to the police and how he should tell Dostoy about your betrayal, or better yet, he should stuff you in his cloak and leave you there?

You side-eye Nikolai heavily as he continues on, slightly alarmed, but brush off the casual threat as just Nikolai being Nikolai. You don’t know how to shut him up, you think you might be out here all night listening to him, and now you’re the one bemoaning your fate because how did a simple compliment turn into this.

Finally, an idea strikes.

You brace yourself, questioning your sanity and your entire existence before you interrupt him with a loud, “Quiz time!”

Nikolai goes silent instantly, head snapping toward you, eye even wider than before.

You think you’ve hit an all time low as you say, “Was I trying to mock you before?” Nikolai opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can. “What’s that you say? I wasn’t? Ding ding! We’ve gotta winner!”

You think Nikolai might be having an internal crisis. He’s staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life—his lips are parted, his eye void of the usual mischief dancing in it. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what.

You let out a long breath as you go to speak up again, but before you can, his eye is glittering again, sharp and dangerous, and his lips are curving up into a slow smile.

Nikolai inhales and then he takes a complete one-eighty as he bursts into loud cackles and says, “Ahahaha! I knew you loved me!” as if he wasn’t just lamenting your irrational hatred for him moments before.

Your eye twitches. He begins a second tirade, this one far more embarrassing for you than the last.

You regret everything.

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dosteovskys · 4 months

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QUEST COMPLETE | FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

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

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

wc: 900 ish

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

fyodor dostoevsky has pretty hands.

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

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

you had not found it nearly as funny.

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

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

“i’m working,” he mutters.

“i’m not stopping you,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you smile lightly.

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

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

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

quest complete.

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

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chuuyrr · 3 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ᐟ

feat. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: bsd men as girl dads to their daughters

ꨄ˙ CW(s): f! mom! reader, established relationship (married to your lover ofc), fluff, short scenarios, not proofread

DAZAI was humming the quiet melody of his 'certain' song as he cradles his little one. the baby in his arms was sniffling, crying softly and practically looking at him with tearful brown eyes that resembles his. he gently hushes and cradles baby sonoko in his arms, his soothing hums a lullaby in the quiet room.

sonoko was a captivating blend of both you and dazai. with her dark hair that mirrored dazai's locks and the bright twinkle in her [color] eyes reminiscent of your own, she was practically a living canvas of your shared features.

dazai gently rocks baby sonoko in his arms, whispering soothing words to calm her cries. the soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, creating a serene atmosphere. he cradles her close, the warmth of his embrace a comforting haven.

"hush, my little one," he murmurs, his voice a gentle melody. "there, there, sonoko. daddy is here." dazai presses a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with paternal affection, "no need for tears, little darling."

he softly sang a lullaby, the words weaving through the air like a protective cocoon. as the room embraced a peaceful stillness, sonoko's cries transformed into quiet sniffles.

dazai continued to sway gently, cherishing the precious moment of connection with his baby girl. he places her head against his chest, manipulating his heart beat into a calming rate to ground her with its sound.

you lay in bed, exhausted, but you find yourself smiling in the calmness of the night as you see your husband and daughter share a quiet bond, the world outside fading away. dazai's love for sonoko radiated in every soothing touch, a promise to always be there, hushing away any fears or tears that may come.

"you're doing that thing with your heart again, aren't you?" you whisper softly to dazai, quietly giggling.

dazai glances at you, still cradling the fruit of your love to his chest, he gently strides to your side and presses a lingering kiss on your forehead, "yeah, i am."

"i still don't get how you do that though, but it works, doesn't it?" you say softly as you see how your baby girl is all calm now.

you extend your arms to reach for sonoko but dazai gently refuses to do so, and he shakes his head as he insists, "shh, let me look after her. you go get some rest, darling."

"are you sure, osamu? sonoko can get a bit fussy," you ask softly as dazai uses his free hand that wasn't carrying sonoko to gently push you to lie back down in bed and pull the blanket over your chest.

"i'm certain. please, my love. you're exhausted from feeding her and looking after. it's daddy's turn to take over, okay?" dazai chuckles softly as sonoko began to coo and pat her tiny hands against her daddy, "we're ok."

"okay," you giggle quietly as you look at your husband and daughter, "try not to give your daddy a bad time, okay sonoko?"

sonoko merely coo and giggle at the sound of your voice before they intensified in volunme when dazai started to tickle her sides and pepper her cute round face in kisses, the rain of affection from her father making her happy.

CHUUYA sighs, holding baby saika in his arms as her cries echoed through the room. he paced around, trying to replicate the comfort saika found in her mother's presence—your presence.

although your child resembled very much like you, she got her traits and personality mostly from chuuya. she even throws quite the fuss when she was upset, and chuuya only realizes it now that you're away for a while.

"shh, saika, it's okay. come on, now." he whispers softly, his voice a mixture of reassurance and longing.

despite his best efforts to spoil her with affection, saika's cries persisted and he feels a pang of helplessness, "mommy will be back soon, little one. until then, it's just you and me, okay?" chuuya continued to sway, his touch tender and caring.

but saika's cries merely intensified, and chuuya's frustration grew. he couldn't replace the warmth and comfort that only her mother seemed to provide.

chuuya's heart sank as he looked down at his precious little one, her tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with a mix of sadness and yearning. he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him, an ache in his chest as he desperately wished he could ease her distress.

"come on, saika," chuuya whispers softly, his voice a blend of sorrow and affection. he cradles her even closer, tracing gentle circles on her back. "what's making you so upset, huh? don't you want toys? food? sweetheart, please."

saika's tiny lips quivered, and her cries persisted. chuuya's usual fiery determination waned in the face of his daughter's tears. money and gifts meant nothing in this moment. though he had her spoiled with everything and anything, she didn't seem to want any of those things as she would only squirm, kick and throw those things away in a tantrum.

in a moment of realization, chuuya gently sets aside the lavish toys and the carefully prepared food. he holds saika to his face and he looks into her teary eyes and finally, he understood the true source of her distress.

"it's not about the toys or the treats, is it, saika?" he muses softly, a smile forming on his face. cradling her up in his arms, he held her close, focusing on the simple act of giving her his undivided attention.

as he spoke soothingly to her, chuuya sensed the shift in saika's mood. her cries slowly gave way to sniffles, and she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. realizing that what she craved was the connection with her daddy, chuuya embraced the simplicity of the moment.

"dada's right here, baby," he whispers to saika, pressing a tender kiss on her cheek, "i got you."

in that instant, the room was filled not with the extravagant gifts he could provide, but with the warmth of a father's love that proved to be the most comforting of all.

he bounced her tenderly as he swayed around the room, the rhythm calming her sniffles. chuuya presses another soft kiss on her forehead, and saika's tiny hands clung to his shirt, finding solace in the familiar embrace.

as you entered the room later on, a tired yet content smile adorned chuuya's face. his hair was tied in a low ponytail with stickers and traces of food decorated his face. in his arms, little saika peacefully slept, nestled against his chest, her [color] hair braided with small butterfly clips.

chuuya looked up, and his eyes softened at the sight of you, "hey there, love," he greets you quietly, careful not to wake saika, "we had a little adventure, but someone decided it was time for a nap."

you couldn't help but giggle fondly at the adorable scene before you. the stickers and food smudges on your husband seemed like badges of a day well spent. saika, oblivious to your arrival, continued to sleep soundly in her father's arms.

quietly, chuuya rose from his spot, carefully transferring saika to her crib. as he joined you, he sighs happily and captures your lips in a tender kiss, "looks like our little one just wanted some dada time today." the exhaustion in his eyes was overshadowed by the joy of the shared moments.

"seems like it," you say softly as you wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss once again, "but hey, you did good. thanks for looking after saika."

"don't mention it, we're in this together. i can't have my darling wife do everything. you deserved a well-rested break today," chuuya whispers against your lips as nuzzles his nose against yours lovingly.

FYODOR cradled his precious lyubov on his lap, her wide eyes filled with curiosity. with a tender smile, he began to read from a novel, his deep yet gentle voice resonating through the quiet space.

"once upon a time, in the turbulent depths of the human soul, there lived a complex character named raskolnikov. he grappled with existential questions, much like the profound mysteries we face in our own lives," fyodor narrates, his gaze shifting between the words on the page and the wide-eyed innocence in lyubov's eyes.

as he continued reading, the intricate plot and philosophical undertones of the novel intertwined with the gentle rhythm of lyubov's breathing. fyodor couldn't help but adapt the narrative, transforming it into a bedtime story that echoed the complexities of morality and human nature.

lyubov, oblivious to the weighty themes, giggled in delight at her father's animated expressions. fyodor, in turn, savored the precious moments, cherishing the bond he was cultivating with his daughter.

as lyubov listened to her father's storytelling, a contagious giggle bubbled up from within her. with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she pointed at the novel in fyodor's hands.

giggling at the sight of her father's earnest storytelling, little lyubov couldn't contain her innocence as she pointed at the pages in amusement.

lyubov, with her jet-black hair cascading in waves down her shoulders, bore a striking resemblance to her father, fyodor. the deep purple hue of her eyes mirrored his own, reflecting a shared intensity that seemed to peer into the depths of the human soul.

yet, amidst these echoes of her father's traits, her features held a delicate familiarity, capturing the essence of her other parent—you. the gentle curve of her nose and the subtle arch of her eyebrows were reminiscent of your own distinct features too.

in a moment of quiet amusement, you turned to fyodor, your husband, a playful glint in your eyes, "isn't she a tad too young for stories like that, darling?" you ask, your laughter blending with the warmth of the dimly lit room as you enter your baby's room.

fyodor, with a gentle smile, glanced at lyubov, who had now nestled herself comfortably against his chest, before looking at you, "perhaps, my love," he replies, his voice carrying a touch of self-awareness, "but the beauty of storytelling is that it grows with the listener. however, if you insist, then i suppose i'll find tales more suited to her age, tales that will weave the magic of childhood without delving too deep into the complexities of the human psyche."

as lyubov cooed and giggled in response to your shared laughter, fyodor couldn't help but join in the merriment.

with a twinkle in his eye, he gently teases, "my, my. look at this, darling. it seems our little one has a taste for the profound, even if the words are a bit too deep for her tender age. perhaps we have a budding philosopher in our midst."

"perhaps, fedya," you say with a playful glint in your eyes, your lips curving into a smile.

you and fyodor share a tender kiss, the laughter lingering in the air as a sweet reminder that, in the midst of literature's complexities and parenting's challenges, there's always room for joy and lighthearted moments in the embrace of family love as lyubov was still nestled in fyodor's embrace, she continued to babble and gurgle, her infectious laughter filling the room.

ꨄ˙ A.N.: sonoko's name came from one of the dazai osamu's actual children. saika translates to fortune with its kanji meaning happiness and the moon. it was inspired by the poems of upon the tainted sorrow and the moon of the actual nakahara chuuya, but i purposely alluded the name to happiness instead. lyubov means love, and it is also the name of one of the actual children of fyodor dostoevsky. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

ꨄ˙ TAGGING.: @chuunai @aureatchi (っ'ヮ'c) ₊˚⊹♡ !

this is a queued post by the way . . .

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chuunai · 13 days

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Dazai kisses you with the reverence of a worshipper. He’s eternally grateful that such a filthy, lowly demon such as himself received the affections of such an angel. His morning and nighty rituals begin and end with the same event—kisses all over your holy body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. They’re chaste and fleeting in the beginning, afraid to defile and corrupt you. But oh, he craves to hear the delicacies of your gentle hums and moans when he gets too messy later on and leaves a pretty mark. He knows mere mortals shouldn’t get too close to goddesses, but he can’t help but follow icarus’s steps and hope to touch the sun, you.

Chuuya kisses you like a man drunk in love. Your lips replace the bottle he used to seek comfort so often from, and the taste of red wine could never hold a candle to the taste of you. And not unlike the glasses full of alcohol, he finds himself asking for just one more kiss. They’re bold and clear to the point that he has given himself to you. He’ll proudly kiss the ground you walk on with the same energy he kisses you. He’s lost so many people in his life, and the one thing he wants is to keep you and your kisses all to himself. The finest wine deserves a knowledgeable man who won’t break the bottle.

Fyodor kisses you with the delicate touch of an artist. Every imprint of his lips on your skin is carefully arranged in an ethereal collage of devotion and intimacy. There’s no overdoing it or under-doing it, it’s the perfect amount. His words are always coated in sugary lies and webbed subsidiary secrets, and he opts to express his love through affectionate gestures such as a mere kiss. Being a man of God, naturally he strays away from anything too provocative and heated. Except sometimes in the dead of night, he thinks of Eve and the apple. He shouldn’t have you, no, but he can’t resist forever.

Sigma kisses you like he’ll lose you. The three years he has known this world has only taught him pain, anguish and anxiety. He’s so inexperienced, and he’s afraid that inexperience will frustrate you to the point of leaving him. There’s a bit of everything in a kiss with him, some tongue (he read about it online on a WikiHow article of how to kiss), the shaky hand on your cheek and hip and so much idolization. You lead most of the kisses by proxy, and he lets you. It’s okay if you use him like a toy. He’ll gladly be used as long as you don’t leave.

Nikolai kisses you with all the wild passion he can muster. The lipstick he wears smears across your skin, painting your Cupid’s bow red. Mutters of ‘pretty thing’ and ‘fucking delicious’ leave him with each deepening kiss. It’s a pity he’s thought about setting you free from this world during such a moment. Your heart bleeding around the knife, wails and whimpers of pain muffled by his lips while he guides you through the end of life. The last remnant of the chains holding him down would be gone if your kisses weren’t so hammering onto his soul. Every peck and smooch only solidifies his connection to you and this universe.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @briars-castle, @little-miss-chaoss, @sinfulthoughtsposts @starrs20

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osachiyo · 2 months

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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — 1.7k+ words, vampire!fyodor x fem!reader, fluff + n/sfw, virginity loss, spitting (not like u think lol), soft!fyodor, cunnilingus, blood, biting, etc • this surprisingly won the poll soooo here u guys go ! also i didn't originally intend for him to be a vampire but like the latest chapter did something to me.. anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & NOT PROOFREAD

"fedya i —"

"hush, my dear, let me take care of you," fyodor hummed, smooth but warm voice effectively cutting you off. "it's your first time, after all — we can't possibly have this be an unpleasant time for you," he spoke calmly, reaching out a thumb to smooth the crease between your brows, "i've got you, angel."

you nodded, hesitantly — wanting to please fyodor but it seemed like he was dead set on making this special for you. "now," your train of thought got cut off by fyodor's rich voice once again, "do you trust me, myshka?" he murmured the words into your neck — inhaling the sweet scent of your body lotion mixed with your natural smell. "do you even have to ask that, my love?" you chuckled, soft fingers brushing away a stray hair from his face, tucking that piece behind his ear and he smiled, "no, but it doesn't hurt to ask, right sweetheart?" cold lips pressed themselves against your neck — before his tongue darted out to lick at the sensitive skin.

you gasped when he finally bit down on your neck, fangs etching themselves deep into your soft flesh, you could feel your face flush at the way fyodor's hands were trying to grab anywhere he could, until they settled on the small of your back, pressing you as close to him as possible.

"f-fedya.." you pressed against his chest when you started to feel light headed, immediately catching his attention as he pulled away — you could see your blood staining his vampiric teeth and running down his lips in a line. "apologies, my dear — i was simply drunk off of your taste," he licked his lips clean before pressing them against your cheek — merely brushing them against your eager lips for a second before pulling away. damn tease.

"why don't you take this off for me, hm?" long fingers brushed against the straps of your nightgown, his hands itching to just rip the flimsy piece of clothing off — but he had to be patient. he didn't want to rush things with you, after all.

you happily obliged his request, slipping the thin straps off your shoulder, before shimmying out of the dress. now only in your undergarments, you shivered from the night air hitting your sensitive spots. but before you could even complain, fyodor suddenly captured your lips in a heated kiss — your inexperienced ones struggling to keep up with his.

you didn't even notice he had you pinned on the bed until your back hit the mattress, your hair sprawled on the sheets like a halo around you — making you look like an angel in his eyes. "..beautiful," fyodor whispered against your collarbones, leaving small nips and bites there — his cool lips a great contrast to your heated skin.

"f-fedya," you moaned once his hands found your breasts, fondling the soft mounds in his palms before looking up at you with those amethyst eyes. "yes, my dear?" he grinned, brushing his sharp teeth on the side of your tit, restraining himself from biting you.

"touch me more, please," you begged, hips twitching up involuntarily when his fingers found your nipples, pinching the hardened buds between his lithe digits while pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts.

"i'd be a fool not to," he chuckled, happily obliging to your pleads. "let's take this off, yeah?" he put his fingers in the waistband of your panties, admiring the pretty little bow on the skimpy garment. it felt like he was unwrapping a present — your pussy.

he watched as strings of your arousal stuck to the fabric as he pulled it away, revealing your awaiting and untouched cunt to him. "absolutely gorgeous," he breathed out, the air fanning on your folds made your head spin. fyodor eventually took your panties fully off, chucking it somewhere on the bed, but his eyes were on you the entire time — on that perfect cunt.

"may i, darling?" fyodor licked his lips, trying his best to not just shove his head between your thighs — he needed you to say it, to want it as bad as he did.

"please, need you so bad right now —!," you whined, tossing your head back once he licked a flat stripe up your cunt, groaning lowly at the taste. "taste's s'good," he purred, gathering your slick on his tongue before dipping the pink muscle into your hole — almost tongue-fucking you.

"mmh," you tried your best to muffle the sinful noises escaping your lips — biting down on your hand so hard it's almost enough to draw blood, until you felt fyodor's cold hands pry it away — "i want to hear you, my love, don't be shy —" his tongue swirled over your clit deliciously, "sing for me."

and you did — back arching so sweetly while those intoxicating little moans and whines rolled off your tongue, all while fyodor's was moving in and out of you.

" 'm gonna cum — fedya, please," your hand found purchase in his soft ebony locks, tugging on it gently and hearing, feeling him moan into your cunt — sending vibrations throughout your whole body.

"please what?" he finally opened his eyes, mischief written all over his features as he worked his mouth on you. "what do you want me to do, pretty girl?" fyodor hummed, pulling away to spread your folds with his thumbs — before spitting directly onto your hole, watching the tight ring clench and unclench rapidly. how cute, he thought.

you gasped at the lewd show he was putting on, before reluctantly speaking up, "please make — make me c-cum, fedya," the tears gathered on your lashes finally fell, earning a soft coo from the man between your legs.

"is that right, my love?" he mused, reaching down a finger to collect some of your slick before plunging the long digit in — breath catching in his throat once he felt just how tight and warm you were. "cum for me, beautiful," that was the last thing he rasped before diving in — groaning unashamedly into your cunt. that was all you needed, the final push before releasing all over his face and mouth, drenching his chin down to his collar, and he wasn't even mad about it.

"oh oh go— gosh, feels s'good," you clenched your eyes shut at the unbelievable amount of pleasure, it was so good. fyodor continued to lick and gulp down all your juices, muttering praises in between.

once he finally pulled away, he finally took a good look at you and fuck — you looked utterly debauched. tits spilling from the bra he was yet to completely take off, the bite marks littering your skin and your face. especially your face — eyes glazed over and unfocused as little pants left your mouth, drool and tears running down your chin. you looked like a ruined mess — a beautiful ruined mess.

fyodor didn't waste any time before beginning to undress himself, he needed to fuck you — now. he could feel how unbelievably hard he was, it almost hurt how turned on he was, not that he'd ever admit how crazy you make him.

"you're ready," he breathed, before kissing you deeply — hardened cock rubbing against your folds and spreading his precum on them, mixing with your arousal. "so ready," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, pinning you against the headboard this time.

"do tell if this hurts too much," he groaned, biting his chapped lips as he slowly pushed the tip in — feeling you contract around him nearly drove him insane. you gasped and writhed in pain as he entered you — but it felt so good at the same time, to be so impossibly close to the man you love — you didn't mind the pain too much, instead focusing on the blooming warmth in your chest.

that warmth intensified once you glanced at his face — usual pale skin now flushed, brows furrowed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he looked almost angelic — as if he wasn't a creature of sin.

fyodor's eyes opened and he caught you staring at him in awe, his lips twitching up to show a genuine smile — filled with love and warmth for you. only for you.

"you feel so good, moya lyubov," he almost moaned out — hips thrusting so sensually it almost had you rolling your eyes back.

"a-ah fyodor —!" you mewled so cutely when he brushed his fangs against your neck — so sharp they almost drew blood. "can i? please, milyy," he pleaded — and who were you to say no to him?

you didn't answer him with words, only craning your neck to give him more access — and he got the memo. sharp fangs sunk into your neck, making you tightening your grip on fyodor — his hips quickening their pace, now becoming desperate, and hungry for release.

the taste of your blood filled fyodor's senses — you tasted so good, so sweet he had to hold himself back from cumming immediately — he had to make his girl cum first, right?

your eyes shot open once you felt cold fingertips rubbing your clit in hurried circles, walls clenching even more on the vampire's length which had him muttering small curses in russian. you could feel yourself getting light-headed from the loss of blood — but it wasn't fatal, he'd never hurt you like that. "close, milaya?" he grunted, now licking up the blood dripping from the punctures on your neck — his eyes rolling back slight from the metallic taste.

"yes — yesyesyes —!" you squealed, gushing all over his cock, soaking the bedsheets in the process. fyodor couldn't last much longer either, your taste along with the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him had him cumming seconds after you — both of you moaning in unison as he filled you to the brim.

you yelped when fyodor slumped against you — for a vampire, he didn't have the stamina of one. "tired?" you breathed out, brushing some stray hair from his pretty face. fyodor only hummed in response, eyes opening to take in the sight of you underneath him — pants leaving the both of you. your hair was messy, dried blood and tears staining your skin. "so beautiful," he hummed, pressing his lips against your temple. "you did so well, my love," he praised, chuckling at the way you suddenly became so shy.

"get some rest, my dear — i'll have ivan make you something rich in iron. i may have took... a tad too much blood," he sighed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. you could only nod absentmindedly, eyes fluttering closed as the tiredness finally got to you.

an "i love you, sleep well, beautiful girl," was the last thing you heard before slipping away in dream land.

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

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

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

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fyodor-s-rat · 6 months

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BUNGOU STRAY DOGS - when they want a hug

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

summary: what do they do when they want a hug?

Dazai

he's overall very touchy and clingy

so hugs with him are a regular thing

he just unexpectedly throws his arms around you, pulling you close

his grip is surprisingly strong, and he won't let you go easily

sometimes you're just chilling on a couch and he basically jumps on you, making you yelp

Kunikida

he's not the type to just come to you and hug you regularly

this doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy hugging you, he simply forgets because of all the work he has

but when he's really stressed, he tends to hug you from the back

he unexpectedly wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder

you just stay like this for a while, not saying a word

Akutagawa

he won't ask for a hug ever.

but he secretly craves physical touch

hovewer, he would rather die than admit it

so you're the one who initiates the hug usually

but when he's needy and you're busy at the moment, he tries to make small hints

(he just stares at you)

and he gets frustrated when you don't get his hints and ignore it

so he just activates rashomon, pulling you close to him by your waist

he won't let you go easily, his hand resting on the back of your head and the other around your waist

Chuuya

this guy gets what he wants

so when he's needy for a hug, he just says something like "come here, darling" and extends both arms

but sometimes, when he's in a bad mood, he doesn't say a thing, he just wraps his arms around you

he loves when you scratch his hair

his hold is really tight

he likes to squeeze your ass while hugging you

Nikolai

he's similarly clingy like Dazai

he just appears next to you out of nowhere and pulls you close

he always does it so aggressively tho 😭

his large body is practically suffocating you

loves being a big spoon as much as being a little spoon

very touchy, he likes to touch you everywhere

loves giving you head pats

Fyodor

let's be honest, he's not very fond of physical touch of any kind

but that doesn't mean he completely hates it

he's still just a human after all, and even though he seems emotionless, i hold onto the belief that he has emotions deep down

hovewer, when he does want a hug on rare occasions, he won't say it. nuh uh

he would take action

fyodor would reach for you and pull you into his embrace

his arms wrapped around your body, but never touching any explicit area (if you know what i mean)

it is kind of strange, he doesn't say a thing while holding you

he always pulls away first, quietly walking elsewhere

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd scenarios #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd fluff #dazai #chuuya hcs #bsd fyodor #nikolai x reader #akutagawa x reader #bsd kunikida #dazai headcanons #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky

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kolyasupremanxy · 1 year

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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰/ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 , 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 , 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥 , 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲 , 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐀/𝐧: I enjoyed writing this coz i love playing with ppl's hair lol, thanks anon! ANON HUHU SRY I accidentally deleted your request cuz i forgot to schedule it later and it got posted too soon so i deleted it TT. Sorryyy

—𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚

Chuuya leaned back on the couch, his head resting on his s/o's chest. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh as their fingers played with his hair. It was a feeling he had grown to love, and he couldn't resist the urge to let out a small chuckle.

"You really love playing with my hair, don't you?" he asked, a smirk on his lips.

His s/o smiled down at him, their fingers still tangled in his hair. "Of course I do. It's so soft and silky, and it looks amazing when it's styled."

Chuuya couldn't help but feel a little bashful at the compliment, but he was also secretly pleased. He tilted his head back a little further, allowing his s/o better access to his hair.

"You know, you're the only one I let do this," he said, his voice softening.

His s/o's hand stilled for a moment before continuing their gentle strokes. "Really? Why's that?"

Chuuya chuckled. "Because it's just for you. I don't want anyone else touching my hair like this."

His s/o smiled down at him, their eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I feel honored then."

Chuuya let out a small laugh before tilting his head up to look at his s/o. "You know, I love it when you play with my hair like this. It's so relaxing and calming. It's like you're lulling me to sleep."

His s/o smiled softly at him. "That's the idea. I want you to feel calm and relaxed."

Chuuya closed his eyes again, his breathing steady and calm. He was so comfortable in this position, and he knew he could stay like this forever. He was glad that his s/o loved playing with his hair, and he couldn't imagine anyone else doing it quite like they did.

—𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

Dazai snuggled closer to his s/o, enjoying the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. He let out a contented sigh, feeling relaxed and at ease in her arms. He loved the way her touch felt against his scalp, the gentle tugs and pulls sending shivers down his spine.

"Your hair is so soft, Dazai," she said, her fingers continuing to run through his hair.

Dazai chuckled. "I'm glad you think so. I've always taken good care of it."

"I can tell," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

Dazai closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her fingers, letting himself get lost in the moment. He felt safe and happy, knowing that he was loved and cared for. He shifted slightly, snuggling even closer to her and resting his head on her chest.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she continued to play with his hair. Dazai let out another sigh, feeling completely content and at peace.

"Thank you for doing this," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"For playing with your hair?" she asked.

"For everything," Dazai replied. "For being here for me, for loving me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

His s/o smiled and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "I'll always be here for you, Dazai. No matter what."

Dazai smiled and closed his eyes, feeling grateful and blessed to have her in his life. He knew that he could always count on her, and that thought brought him a sense of peace that he had never known before.

—𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥

Nikolai's s/o brushed her fingers through his hair, playing with the long braid that rested on his chest.

Nikolai let out a contented sigh and shifted his head, getting comfortable in his s/o's embrace. "You always know how to make me feel relaxed," he said.

His s/o smiled softly. "Your hair is so soft and nice to play with. It's like running my fingers through silk."

Nikolai chuckled. "I take good care of it. It's important to keep it in good condition."

"I can tell," his s/o replied. "It's always so shiny and smooth."

Nikolai hummed in agreement, enjoying the soothing sensation of his s/o's fingers running through his hair. "You know, I never used to let anyone touch my hair like this," he said. "But with you, it feels natural and comforting."

"I'm glad," his s/o said. "I love being close to you like this."

Nikolai closed his eyes and relaxed, savoring the feeling of his s/o's gentle touch. It was moments like this that made him feel truly content and at peace.

—𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲

Fyodor shifted slightly on his s/o's chest, adjusting his position so that he could continue reading comfortably.

His s/o's fingers ran through his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"I could do this all day," his s/o said with a contented sigh.

Fyodor opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I wouldn't mind that," he said softly, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it aside.

His s/o smiled down at him, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. "You have such soft hair, Fyodor," she said.

Fyodor tilted his head back slightly, a small smile playing at his lips. "I'm glad you like it," he said.

His s/o leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead before resuming her ministrations. "It's relaxing, you know?" she said. "Just sitting here with you, playing with your hair."

Fyodor closed his eyes again, letting out a soft hum of agreement. "It is," he said. "I feel...content."

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company. Fyodor's s/o continued to play with his hair, and he continued to relax into her touch.

Finally, Fyodor spoke up. "Thank you for being here with me," he said.

His s/o looked down at him, a soft smile on her lips. "Always," she said. "I'll always be here for you."

Fyodor reached up and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "I'm grateful for that," he said. "Truly."

—𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚

Sigma was comfortably lying on his s/o's chest, his long hair fanned out around him as his s/o played with the soft strands. He was engrossed in the book he was reading, but he couldn't help but smile contentedly at the feeling of his s/o's gentle touch on his hair. It was one of the many small things he loved about their relationship.

As his s/o continued to play with his hair, Sigma let out a small sigh of contentment. "You know, I could get used to this," he said, glancing up at his s/o with a smile.

His s/o chuckled softly. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. I love playing with your hair."

Sigma closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of his s/o's fingers running through his hair. "It's so relaxing," he murmured. "I feel like I could fall asleep right here."

His s/o laughed again, their fingers continuing to work through the tangles in Sigma's hair. "Well, if you do, I promise to keep you safe," they said teasingly.

Sigma chuckled softly, snuggling closer to his s/o. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, the warmth of his s/o's body seeping into his own.

For a while, the two of them simply lay there in silence, the only sound the turning of pages as Sigma read his book. But eventually, Sigma set his book aside, turning to look up at his s/o with a smile.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For everything. I love you."

His s/o smiled back, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Sigma's forehead. "I love you too," they said, their fingers never stopping their gentle movements through Sigma's hair. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And with those words, Sigma closed his eyes, feeling safe and content in his s/o's arms. He knew that no matter what happened in life, he would always have his s/o by his side, ready to offer comfort and support whenever he needed it. And for that, he was eternally grateful.

Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Works. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.

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coolyiooo · 8 months

Text

BSD Men - You Tell Them "I Want A Baby"

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi and Chuuya

❗Warnings❗: Smut, MDNI, breeding kink obviously, scratching, praise, moaning, pulling, whimpering, breaking the bed, rounds, etc

🖤DAZAI🖤

You waited until your husband came home from work to have 'the big talk' with him. When he arrived, he greeted you with a kiss and a smile. You smiled back and told him you have something to tell him

He looked at you, intrigued. You were nervous to say it, but when you found your words, you said "I... I want a baby with you"

His eyes widen in disbelief. You started to get nervous that he didn't like this request of yours, but in one second you found yourself being picked up. Dazai wrapped his arms around your hips and picked you up while spinning you around.

"My belladonna wants my baby!" He yelled with excitement. In a flick of the switch, realization hit him. His smile faded away as he felt sudden fear wash over him "My... Belladonna wants my baby?"

He put you down gently and looked like he was about to collapse. His body swayed like he was drunk, and his legs were trembling. He murmured small words that you couldn't even interpret, and then he sat down. Small drops of sweat came down his forehead as he looked flabbergasted.

You sat next to him and held his hands, looking kindly at him, but he couldn't even make eye contact "I know you must be conflicted-"

He chuckled nervously "Me conflicted? Of course not, bella-" You cut off his sentence "It's ok if you aren't ready yet, but I know we'll be amazing parents" you smile warmly at him

"We're both strong, 'Samu. We can protect this child and give them unlimited love."You cupped his cheek to make him look at you. "I know they will love you just as much as I love you." His eyes became calm and collected. You continued

"Yes, there will be difficult times, but we will overcome them like we always do, and you won't be alone because I'll be there to help you, 'Samu." He stared at you with a soft smile. His eyes showed gratefulness. You put a finger up in his face and said, "Of course I would expect help from you too, though."

He held both of your hands and smiled, saying, "Starting a family with you is the greatest gift life could ever offer to me." You smiled back at him until he spoke again "Plus, I think it would be wasted potential if we never had a child. I mean, think of how humorous yet powerful they would be," he smirks.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "With your looks and my looks combined, we will create the most beautiful child alive," he finished while clenching his fists.

You sighed as you pulled him up to his feet when you stood up and dragged him to the bedroom, making him stumble. "Well, let's get into it, shall we, love?" You said this after you pushed him on the bed.

It was later into the night when Dazai was on top of you, thrusting skillfully into you. His cock hit the deepest parts of you, and you were hugging his dick tightly with your wet walls. You were both moaning from the sensation.

The thought of you getting pregnant only made the situation more lewd and made you both more aroused. He lifted your legs and put them over his shoulders to shove his cock deeper inside you, fueling your arousal even more.

He smirks tiredly "Does someone have a breeding kink? Ngh~! Because I've never felt you this tight before- Ah~!"

"Y-you just- ah~! never been this deep inside me~" you looked away embarrassed

He chuckles "you want my cum that much, bella~? Mmn~ You want my child inside you?"

"Mhmm~! Y-yes~"

He smirks as he connected your lips together, both of moaning into the kiss. While you were both kissing, his pace became faster which only made you dig your nails into his skin. You both moaned louder into the kiss until he pulled away

"I love you, y/n~ agh~! I'm going to fill you up so much~"

"I- I'm gonna c-cum~!" As soon as you said that, you came on Dazai's cock, squeezing him tightly and he soon came with you. His cum was shot deep inside of you as you both moaned loudly.

"F-fuck~ your taking in my cum so beautifully, y/n" Dazai said while looking down to where your both connected. You were panting heavily as he kissed your cheek before laying his head on your chest, smiling kindly "I'm excited to start this new chapter together with a mini you and me"

💚RANPO💚

You've been wanting to tell Ranpo that you want a baby, but it got you nervous to even talk about it with him. You felt maybe he wasn't ready, since he can barley take care of himself-, but after a couple of months you decided to finally just talk to him about it.

When you both came home from work and were cuddling on the couch. You took a deep breath and looked at him with blushed cheeks

"Um- love, I have something I've been wanting to talk to you about"

He looks at you with no surprised facial expressions "You want a baby with me?" You looked at him with shock "I know you've been wanting to tell me for months" he smiles softly

"Uh- then why have you never confronted me about it?" You were confused

"Because I was waiting until you were ready to tell me" he responded making you understand his reason"And I wasn't sure if I was ready to go to the next step. I mean, a baby would take away all of your attention from me"

You gave him a 'bruh-' facial expression until he spoke again "But after thinking some more, I realized that I am the world's greatest detective. So how hard could it be? Plus, you'll help out and do most of the hard stuff so-" You cut off his sentence by pinching his cheek making him cry out in pain

"You little- you know I will expect you to help sometimes, right?"

"Of course!" You let go of him which made him rub his cheek. He spoke again "You expect me to let you raise our baby all alone?"

You looked away from him "Well..."

He scoffed "How wrong you are, sugar. If a baby is what you want then I will try my hardest to help you!... Even if I feel too lazy" he smiles widely with determination

You sighed "Yeah.. you better" He looks at you offended "What? Do you think I'm not fit for the challenge?"

You smile "Of course you are. You are the world's greatest detective and boyfriend"

He laughs "You are correct!"

Before you could say anything more, he drags you to the bedroom making you almost trip "Now, let's get started! We aren't getting any younger~"

You were both soon on your shared bed as you jumped on Ranpo's cock. You clenched tightly on his hair and shoulder while his hands help steady your hips. His whimpers only made you more wet and needy for him, and seeing you more desperate than usual only turned him on more.

"Mmn~! Your squeezing me so tightly ngh~" he whimpered

The more he thought about impregnating you the more aroused he got. He started to thrust his hips upwards which made his cock hit deeper inside you. You moaned louder

He smiles softly while panting "Hah~ You want me to shoot my cum deep inside you, right?"

"Y-yes mmn~ I do~"

He leaned into your ear "If your so desperate for my cum then jump a little faster, sugar~ ah~! it feels so good. I won't last much longer mmn~!"

With that, you went at a faster, sloppy pace. His head fell back while arching his back "Ah~! I'm close~ don't stop, sugar~ mmn~! feels so good~"

It all felt amazing, but without thinking, Ranpo pushed you over to get on top of you and started to thrust faster and deeper into you. His forehead was on your shoulder while you held tightly onto his shoulders. His whimpers were louder until he finally came as deep as he can go inside you. You both came together while moaning and twitching. As soon as he finished, he collapsed on your chest while panting heavily.

Usually he's never top just because his stamina is kind of low so you don't really blame him. You felt his body quiver from time to time as you both hugged each other In a tired voice, he said "I just know you'll be an amazing mom. I didn't even need to use my detective skills to know that, sugar"

💜FYODOR💜

You've been wanting to tell Fyodor that you want a child with him for awhile, but he's been very busy lately. You just want to talk to him about it and see what he thinks, but obviously you hope he'll be on the same page as you.You decided today is the day

You walked into Fyodor while he was typing on his five monitors or something. You hugged him from the side, laying your cheek on his shoulder as your arms were wrapped around him. He slightly leaned his head towards you and kissed your arms

"Is there something wrong, moya lyubov?" He didn't even look at you, but his tone seemed considerate

You sighed "I just want to talk to you about something, but it can wait" you kissed his cheek gently

He finally turns his head towards you "you want to talk about something? Is it serious?" His eye seemed a bit soft

You nervously chuckle "well kind of, but nothing to worry over"

He kept staring at you which only made you more nervous "hmm give me one more hour, love, then we can talk" he kissed your forehead. You nod with a smile as a response.

You were waiting in your shared bed for about an hour until Fyodor showed up. He sat next to you on the bed after taking off his shoes and cape. He held your hand "what's been on your mind, myshka?" He asked gently Your heart raced rapidly

"i- uh- it's hard to ask" you couldn't even make eye contact with him his hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him "do you fear me, y/n?"

You widen your eyes "n-no! It's just-" you took a deep breath "I.... Want a baby.."

His eyes widen as he stared into you. You couldn't hold the stare as you looked down, blushing tremendously. You chuckled nervously "Or you know, we can wait. I was just-" Your sentence was cut off by a sweet kiss on the lips, catching you off guard. Fyodor held the kiss for a couple seconds before he pulled away.

He was smiling "I've been wanting a child with you for awhile as well" He started to gently kiss your neck. His body was slowly towering over you as the back of your head laid on a pillow

He mumbled against your skin "I couldn't ask for a better woman. Your perfect, my dear" You moan quietly before he looked into your eyes while smirking "tonight will belong to us, my love. I wont stop until your body has no choice but to become pregnant"

And it really did feel like the night belong to you two. He was fucking you in a mating press. You could feel him deeper inside you than usual. His thrusts were rough and deep, but his words and kisses were filled with beauty and affirmation

Your hands were wrapped around his neck and would sometimes pull his hair. His hands were busy holding himself up, but they were gripping the bed sheets. "S-so deep~ mmn~ so good~ Fedya, do you feel good?"

"Mmn~ just the thought of you carrying my child drives me to my limit ah~ you feel irresistible, y/n~" He pounded deeper into you, making your head go all the way back, slightly arching your back

"I can feel more of you, myshka~ mmn~ your really clenching tightly around me ngh~ so lewd~" he chuckles gently

"I- ah~! I'm going to c-cum~ it feels too good~" you moaned while your hand forms a fist on his hair, making him groan

"Me too, love. Let's do it together ah~ Your going to be- ngh~ an amazing mother for our child"

He pounded faster only making you two moan and groan louder. Your walls stroked him amazingly and his cock hit your g spot over and over. He finally felt his limit and he was so ready to cum inside you "Oh, myshka~ I'm going to cum~ Don't let one drop go to waste Ah~ cum with me, dear~"

You only responded to moaning his name. He smirked slightly as he felt a sudden wave of electricity go throughout his body. He shot his semen deep inside you, resulting you cumming on his dick. You moaned loudly and quivered from the sensation as he grunted with his eyes shut tight

You were panting heavily until he kissed your lips passionately. He looked at your eyes with soft, tired ones "I can't wait to have this child with you, y/n"

He abruptly started to pound into you again. Your gripped on his shoulders as your eyes were shut tight while moaning."I did tell you we won't stop until your body has no choice but to get pregnant, my love~ we have all night "

💙ATSUSHI💙

You were waiting for Atsushi to get home from work to tell him you want a baby. It was nerve racking, but you felt ready and just wanted to see what Atsushi thinks about it.

When he did come home, he was greeted by your hug and a kiss and he did the same thing back to you. He was about to go take a shower until you told him you had to tell him something, making him a bit worried.

You grabbed his hands and looked in his eyes with Ambition "I want a baby"

His eyes widen and his cheeks blushed "A...a baby?"

"Yeah...of course if your ready too"He put his hands on your shoulders a little roughly

"Y-you really want a baby with me?"

"Of course, my love. Who else would I ask?"

He kissed you on the lips while one of his hands cupped your face and the other on your back. You were taken aback and flustered until he pulled away "I've been thinking about starting a family with you recently too" he smiles softly You were a little surprised

"You made it sound like you weren't sure"

He chuckles "I was just happy to hear those words. It kinda sounded surreal"

He then hugs you in a warm embrace. His chin laying on your shoulder "Im just glad I'm going to raise a child with the woman I love"

"Well I'm not pregnant yet, love" you chuckle

He stops hugging you and holds your hands instead while looking into your eyes "I don't want our child to experience what I've been through. I want them to feel loved and cared for. So don't worry, I will do everything I can to make them happy" he smiles

"I already know you will, love. You'll be an amazing dad" you smile back

"And you'll be the perfect mom" he kisses the back of your hand After smiling at each other for awhile, he starts to blush "Well... D-do you want to get started?"

You fidget with your fingers "If your up to it"

He suddenly carries you bridal style and goes towards the bedroom "I've been waiting to do this. So I'm sorry if I'm a bit rough"

He lays you on the bed and gets on top of you, caging you with his arms. You smirk at him "I wouldn't mind if you were"

He would never admit it, but he has a massive breeding kink and he's a little too excited. He thrusts were fast,deep, and aggressive, but his words and kisses were gentle and soft.He fucked you in a mating press. Your legs were over his shoulders and his hands gripped harshly on the headboard of the bed, which would hit against the wall repeatedly making a loud thudding noise.

His hips made a clapping sound everytime they connected to yours and both of your moans were filling the room as well.You've never felt him so deep inside you, but it felt so good that you weren't complaining. "So deep~ Nakajima~! It feels so good~" you moaned

"Ah~! You feel amazing, y/n~ your so beautiful~" he responded while moaning

He couldn't stop thinking about his cum being inside of you and the more he thought the more desperate he was. His grip on the headboard was stronger and eventually it broke. You were in shock and gasped a moan, but he brought your attention back to him when he kissed your lips full of lust.

You didn't know it was even possible, but you felt him get bigger inside you. He couldn't get enough of how your walls stroked his cock. He pulled away from the kiss to look down to where your connected

"I- mmn~! I'm going to cum~ y-yes~! Ah~ so good~ can't stop~!" He whimpers

"Y-yes~ cum as deep as you can, love~ im going to cum too~!"

If it was even possible, he went at a more animalistic pace. His cock hit all the rights spots and you both felt eachother twitch from the sensation. With his hands, he brought your hips as close at he can to his own, to shoot his cum deep inside you. He was so deep, you could see a bulge on your stomach.

He finished with a loud whimper. His whole body trembling aggressively from his orgasm and you came right after him, moaning his name loudly with your legs trembling.

You were both trying to catch your breaths and calm from your high's. Your minds clouded and fogged up from the euphoric experience and when you got out of cloud 9, he kissed your lips gently.

His grip on the sheets relaxed and he then noticed that he left holes on them from how aggressive he was being. "I- I'm sorry if I got carried away" he tiredly apologized

You smiled kindly at him "I found it a big turn on if I'm being honest"

He blushes and looks down, seeing that he's still inside you. He looks at you again with embarrassment and red cheeks "i...want to...fill you up more...please"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You and Chuuya have surprisingly never talked about starting a family or even talked about kids. You've talked about how annoying they could be, but whenever you've been with a baby or children, you've thought about having one with Chuuya.

After he came back to your shared apartment, he was putting his hat and jacket onto the coat hanger as you leaned against the wall. He looks at you with a smile, but can tell something is on your mind

"Hey Princess, Is something wrong?" Concerned was heard in his voice

"I- I just have something I've been wanting to say" you fidget by swaying your feet slightly

"Well I'm all ears.. your making me nervous"

You looked at him with embarrassment and took a deep breath "I want a baby with you"

His eyes widen "You...what?"

He keeps staring at you making you feel more stupid and embarrassed "Uh- if you don't think it's a good idea then say it and stop staring at me like I'm crazy!" You look away

He stammers "Wha- no that's not it at all! it's just- I wasn't expecting that"

You sheepishly look back at him "Do you..ever want to start a family with me?"

He calms down a bit "Well I wasn't against the idea..but how do I know that I'm ready to be a dad?"

You walk up to him to look him in the eyes softly "All I know is that we can learn together how to raise our child" you smile

He sighs "If we were to have a kid they will be a target, since I'm an executive of the Port Mafia. Do you really think that would be ok?"

He gives a valid point, but you've been thinking about that too. You respond "Plenty of people from the mafia have at least some family and plus, do you really think I'm that weak? Much less that both of us can't protect our own kid?"

He widens his eyes slightly "T-that's not what I- " he takes a deep breath and thinks "Your right, We're more than strong enough to protect our own kid. So if anybody even tries to hurt them I'm going to kill them"

You giggle as he kissed your nose and holds you by the waist. He then starts to blush"And I'd be lying if I said I never thought of you one day carrying my kid and starting a family with you. It's something I want to experience with you and only you"

You smile warmly as you poke his cheek "You are so cute when you blush, Chuuya~" you said teasingly

He grumbles softly "Shut your trap" You then starts to attack his face with kisses "H-hey! Get off of me" you laugh as he blushes more.

You pull away and you smile "Your so needy" he whispers before he drags you to the bedroom and throws you on the bed.

He smirks "Just lay still while I impregnate you"

Couple minutes went by and Chuuya was on top of you ramming his dick inside you deep. Your wet walls clenched around him more than usual making him moan and grip on your hips tighter

"God- fucking S-shit~ mmn~ why you squeezing me so tightly, doll? Ah~ you desperate for my cum?"

You look away embarrassed while moaning. You only responded by dipping your nails into his shoulders and pulling his hair, earning a low groan from him

He chuckles "I think someone has a breeding kink~ agh~! Why am I not surprised? Mmn~! You do always beg for my cum inside you"

He leans down and kisses your lips gently. His pace changing into soft and sensual "Your so beautiful ngh~ God, I love you so much. You don't- mmn~ understand" he moans

You smile "I love you too, Chuuya"

He kisses you again and gradually increases his pace into a sloppy, desperate pace. His cock twitched and slowly got bigger as he felt his orgasm come

He pulls away while panting "So good~ i-im cumming~!"

You moan his name as he thrusts deeper into you and he begins to whimper the sensation was too good and he always loved shooting his cum inside you. With one last thrust he came inside you, feeling his hot semen coat your walls as you came with him. Both of you hugging eachother while being in pure bliss

You were both heavily breathing until he kisses you forehead and cheek "You better be careful for these next 9 months. You can't go anywhere alone or do anything reckless"

You scoff "Babe, your over reacting and we don't know if Im pregnant right now-"

"You know what I mean and If you ask me I'm under reacting" he cuts you off before kissing your lips gently

You both stare into eachother eyes lovingly. He slowly smiles genuinely "I'm happy that we're going to start a family together"

1K notes · View notes

aureatchi · 2 months

Text

⚕ ᡣ𐭩 . ° . AND IF THERE WAS A PLACE I HAD TO CHOOSE…IT’D BE IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT. (bedroom session) ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa, sigma

— how the bsd men treat you when you’re sick. (& more)

a/n. started writing when i was sick djsjsja. tagging my moots who were under the weather anytime this month <3 to them & anyone else unwell, feel better soon !!

info. fem!reader. fluff. established relationships. light angst & hospital in akutagawa’s. chuuya plays the guitar. you play the piano in fyodor’s. sigma’s a chef. some inspo from RED for dazai & fyodor’s (our hcs!)

DAZAI will cuddle with you anyway, even when you are buried under bundles of blankets. he still thinks you need a little more warmth…and you look just too cute wrapped up in what resembles an igloo to not nuzzle with you! however, don’t be surprised when he blames you for making him sick once you recover, as if it wasn’t his fault.

“A-choo!” Your eyes were watery, you felt too cold for your liking, and it was harder than usual to breathe through your nose. Your sneeze made you sit up in discomfort, and you hastily pulled the covers toward you.

“‘Bella? Are you alright?” Dazai sat up next, meeting your eyes as you turned your face toward him.

He noticed how flushed your cheeks were and how watery your eyes were as you frowned—no, the first thought Dazai had wasn’t Oh no! You’re sick!

“Aw, love! You look so cute!” And he tackled you back down.

“Osamu!” you shouted as he lay practically atop you, squeezing you like a teddy bear.

“‘Samu!” you repeated once more. “You’re going to suffocate me!”

“You feel so cold, though, darling!” His reply was muffled as he buried his face into your neck.

“It’s like you’re trying to get yourself sick!”

He sat the both of you back up.

“H-huh? What’d you mean? Why would anyone willingly get sick?”

“Oh, I’m not sure either!” you exclaimed. “Maybe so you can use it as an excuse to skip wor-“

You sneezed again, interrupting your statement, seeing through Dazai’s plan.

“Bless you ‘bella!” he replied, a bit too excited. “What were you saying?”

“I. Was-” you sneezed again. And then twice. And then thrice.

“Aw, my poor baby!” Dazai spoke in his infantile voice. “Looks like you’re super sick…don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I have a solution.”

“Yes, please,” you responded—as best as you could with him pinching your cheeks—thinking Dazai would finally get up and bring you medicine so you didn’t have to do it yourself. That was, in fact, a terrible assumption.

“You trust me so well you didn’t even wait for me to tell you!”

“Uh-”

He then proceeded to pepper your entire face with kisses.

“Get-well kisses! They work better than medicine, trust me. Because these ones are made from lo-ove~.”

“Osamu!” you shouted. “You’re really going to get sick!”

“Do you really think I care, pretty?” He moved his face so his nose was touching yours. “I’ll tell you a secret. I know why I’d get willingly sick. So that I’ll be taken care of by my favorite girl in the world-“

“You’re so stupid!” you facepalmed. “You see being ill as a reward?”

“Yeah, I’ll make you believe so by the end of the day,” he winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

…

Thankfully, Dazai did give you medicine to clear your stuffy nose. And then he told you to stay in bed while he would prepare you…breakfast.

“Oh no,” you said, knowing well that you mostly cooked the meals for a reason. Dazai was good at many things, but there were exceptions. He wasn’t the worst cook, but he certainly wasn’t the best.

“Wait, please trust me on this one!” he pleaded before you could get up. “I promise you I won’t burn the house down.”

The brunette was staring at you with dramatic puppy-dog eyes, and you were too tired to object any further.

“You have to make sure it’s edible, too,” you glumly replied.

…

It felt like almost an hour passed. You started to get worried—was he really struggling with cooking you something? You imagined the kitchen would be a chaotic nightmare by now, and it was enough to make you want to check on him.

But the moment you decided to get up, the door opened with Dazai bringing in a bowl of hot soup. Surprisingly, you could smell the aroma—and it was good.

“You really underestimated me, ‘bella?” Dazai smirked as he placed the bowl on a portable bed tray. “Bon appétit!”

“I haven’t even tried it yet,” you smiled back. “It might be the worst soup I’ve ever had.”

It wasn’t bad. You hated to admit it, but it tasted delicious.

“The virus must’ve affected my taste buds, too,” you chuckled. “Because for someone whose forte isn’t cooking, this tastes really good.”

Dazai wiped his head with a phew! “I actually…put in a lot of effort. I wanted to make sure I did it all right for you. Sorry it took so long.”

You wanted to hug him. You found it so adorable that he had really taken his time to make you something.

“Awe, thanks, Osamu,” you responded. “This was really sweet.”

“So…do I get a few kisses and back rubs as a thank you?” he asked.

“Sorry, back rubs? I’m the one sick; you should be the one giving me them!”

…

Dazai ended up giving you the massages in exchange for continuing to cling to you without complaint. You accepted and were defeated at this point—the man really wasn’t going anywhere.

He continued to stay with you until you felt better, and very unsurprisingly he spoiled your recovery celebration by becoming sick himself.

“Heh…” he mumbled as you looked at the thermometer with a frown. Contradicting was Dazai with a large smile, despite just finding out he had a fever.

“Your turn, ‘bella!” he exclaimed. “I already called Kunikida saying I’m going to be out for another week! This almost beats a vacation.”

“Osamu!”

“What? Any time spent with you feels just as amazing. And this is just a result of how well I’ve taken care of you.”

CHUUYA wants to make your recovery as comfortable and entertaining as possible—he doesn’t want his darling feeling mopey the entire time. after all, enjoying something distracts one from the botherations of being sick, right?

You hadn’t done as much as you would’ve liked today. Unfortunately, you were sick, but not to the point where you had to visit a doctor or were stuck in bed. It was an inconvenient gray area, where you were still able to do things but accompanied by the mild symptoms of a cold.

“Nah, doll, you’re just a workaholic.”

Chuuya laughed as you pouted while trying to do your laundry. Just because you were sick didn’t mean you should skip your chores. You would probably still go to work the next day, too—as long as you weren’t dying, you’d be alright.

You sort of felt like you were, though. You were overcome by a haze of debilitation, whether you wanted to admit it or not. But you couldn’t just sit around all day.

“I’m fine though, Chuu,” you replied, but a contradicting sneeze immediately followed.

“Your nose is saying something different,” he replied, handing you a tissue. “If you’re so bored, how ‘bout we do something actually fun? And won’t exhaust the life out of you?”

“Well, what are you thinking?” you asked, curious as you wiped your nose.

…

Chuuya had you sat by the table with a bowl and a box of cornstarch.

“Out of all people, it was Q who showed me this.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not dangerous. It’s weird, but I can’t deny this entrances me.”

Chuuya poured some cornstarch into the container and added a cup of water. “It gets a little messy, but…” he started combining the contents until it became a gooey mixture.

You started giggling. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the sort of crafts experiment you did as a kid.

“Chuu, this is quicksand. You’ve never made it before?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Quicksand? Nope. But look—if you play around with it, it becomes solid—isn’t that amazing? But if you let it go-“

“It turns back into liquid, yes,” you replied before you sneezed again.

“It’s so weird! What kinda manipulation is this?

You couldn’t help but laugh at how the Port Mafia executive was captivated by such a simple science project. You watched as he played around with the oobleck.

You realized you could live this day simply as well. You proceeded to make your own cool mixture as well.

“You got some on your face,” Chuuya said a little after you were finished with your venture and were washing your hands.

“Where?” you asked, about to touch your head.

“Right here,” you felt his thumb gently rub your cheek and then move around your neck to tug you closer.

“Just kidding.” He stole a kiss in its place.

…

Chuuya sat down on the edge of the bed with his guitar. It was late afternoon, and you decided for once a very needed nap. But not before your lover entertained you with one more thing.

“I’m gonna give ya a little performance.”

He strung his guitar several times and ensured everything was correctly tuned.

Your widened eyes in curiosity made his heart warm. You were so enamored with everything he did—just as he was utterly obsessed with you.

He started playing a familiar tune. Your favorite song. You immediately smiled despite your oncoming headache.

“One day, I think I’ll write my own song for you,” Chuuya said. “You work so hard, how couldn’t you be the inspiration of a ballad?”

You cherished times like these. Even though you were sick, you had the company of the soft, sweetheart side of the Mafia Executive.

FYODOR is full of surprises, and you falling ill is no exception. unexpectedly, he decides to let go of his schemes and responsibilities for the day, to make sure you’re feeling better.

He could already tell by your unusual exhaustion yesterday evening. You didn’t do anything that required more exertion than usual, and it was too frigid in the year for you to feel so hot.

Fyodor already knew you wouldn’t feel so good when you woke up the following day. Your cheeks were flushed, and your head was pounding. It even ached to sit up. It was the worst combination.

Feverishly, you sneezed. A tissue was immediately placed over your nose.

“Blow, milaya.”

You looked up at Fyodor, who was standing by the bed. His amethyst gaze fell upon you—his usual amalgam of tranquility and complacency looked a bit different today…was there a hint of concern shining through his eyes?

You took the tissue from his hands and blew your nose.

“You’re supposed to be at work, no?”

You tried your hardest not to get sick because of this reason. You would be another hassle on Fyodor’s list of endeavors. You hated the thought of contributing, especially when he was already stressed and occasionally neglected his own needs with what he already had to do.

“You would really expect me to when I had to carry you to bed last night?”

The previous evening was a blur. Sometime after dinner, the weather immediately flew over you, and all your energy just drained out.

“Ah.” You sneezed again into the tissue. “Well, I think I’ll be fine on my own. I know you have a lot on your hands. I can take care of myse-“

“Please believe me. You’re not being a burden,” Fyodor cut you off and directly addressed the point you had been dancing around. His hand found yours and started to massage your fingers. He felt ice cold against you—or perhaps, you were on fire.

“Is your throat sore? I’ll make you some tea.”

…

He didn’t leave you alone for too long. Fyodor returned with a cup of hot ginger tea that you immediately took, desperate for some relief for your throat. Your nose was quickly soothed by the warm, sharp aroma of the ginger as you held the mug close to your mouth.

If there was one thing you learned, there was a type of tea for every occasion. Fyodor had an entire cabinet dedicated to those beverages—all precisely arranged.

“Is it alright?” Fyodor asked as you sipped, the liquid alleviating the soreness in your throat.

“Yes, of course,” you replied. “Maybe after I can try to get up…” your voice trailed off as you struggled even to shift your position.

“What’s wrong?” Fyodor moved beside you again as you frowned.

“I feel really sore. Like I ran a marathon without stretching at all yesterday,” you dryly chuckled, even though that had not been the case at all. Your whole body ached; it felt uncomfortable to move anything, and you felt awfully weak.

Fyodor didn’t respond for a moment, thinking.

“You can still entertain yourself without moving. Do you want to read? I’ll bring you to the living room.”

You curtly nodded your head and picked out one of the many books on the large shelf before Fyodor carried you to the sofa in the next room.

“Stay on my lap,” he said, holding you by your waist when you tried to move away.

“I don’t want you to get sick too,” you replied, confused.

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I’m doing a favor for you.”

He motioned for you to enjoy your book and not pay attention to him. So you did as he said—you flipped to the page you left off on and tried to immerse yourself in the plot.

It got easy to do so and lose track of reality because Fyodor started to massage you—hands moving in circular motions on your shoulders to ease and relax the pain on your joints.

You felt both too hot and cold alone on your bed earlier. But here, in the embrace of your lover, you could see the end of your little tunnel of fever.

“Thank you, Fedya,” you whispered sometime after.

…

He got up to do something on his own a little later, but not before tucking you into the softest blankets you owned on the couch. He admired you for a moment right after—a touch of amusement in his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” you asked with a pout. You felt like you were made into a burrito.

Fyodor had thought the same.

“Milashka,” he simply smiled.

You thought he went away to attend to the business he was able to at home—Fyodor was infamous for being a workaholic after all, but you were surprised once again when amidst your reading, you heard a melody coming from the other room. Rich and resonant, you realized he was practicing his cello.

You placed your book down and freed yourself from the warm blankets before making your way over to the next room, disregarding the dull pain that still accompanied you.

Fyodor didn’t pause as you entered and sat down on the piano’s stool. You opened the cover and placed your fingers on the keys before smoothly joining in with the composition you had secretly been learning while he was away so you could play with him.

He probably suspected it anyway, but you still smiled and felt a little pride as you harmonized with him without error—and while sick.

♬♩♫♪

There was a moment of silence after the final note. You felt at peace. The tune made you sleepy.

Fyodor stepped towards you, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“You played it perfectly, lyubov,” he said before kissing your forehead. “How about a nap now as a reward?”

…

After a glass of water and an adjustment of the heater, Fyodor tucked you back under the covers. He checked your temperature with the back of his palm, and he was appeased to find that your fever had noticeably gone down.

You suddenly giggled, catching Fyodor off guard.

“Why are you giggling?”

“I had an observation,” you chirped. You wanted to tell him it was evident he had been stealing physical affection from you throughout the day and that he wasn’t sly, but alas, exhaustion had overcome you again.

You took his own hand in yours. “Wash your hands after,” you whispered before placing a kiss on his fingertips. “This was nice. I feel better because of you staying.”

AKUTAGAWA feels that the roles have been reversed because it is usually him who is sick, and you helping him get better. however, this time it’s you, and so he wants to repay all the care and love you showed him. for once, not to prove something, but to show proof of your adoration towards him.

You didn’t want Akutagawa to visit you that day. You had sent him a text earlier that you were sick—your pneumonia was so severe that you were admitted to the hospital. He immediately rushed over right after.

You told him he didn’t have to—truthfully, half of your heart didn’t want him to because of his already weakened immune system and his tendency to get sick easily.

Yet he still showed up at your bedside with a “get-better” box and pink tulips, a mask covering half his face.

“Ryu, I appreciate this so much,” you told him, a cough accompanying your statement. “But I promise you don’t need to stay—I don’t want you to get sick too.”

He didn’t respond before striding over to the sink as if he were in his own house, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. You watched him trim your flowers, place them in the container, and then putting it on the counter.

“Ryu…”

“You’re in the hospital. Do you think I could just go about my day like my girlfriend isn’t sick?”

Even though his tone was straightforward, his hand gently brushed away the hair covering your eyes.

He was visibly bothered. He hated seeing you in the hospital gown, lying on the bed. He hated the IV line attached to you and the distant beeps! of your vitals. Akutagawa went through this experience more often than not, and if not painful, it was always irritating and unpleasant.

He would never want you going through this, even once.

“Are you comfortable? Should I move you to one of the VIP rooms?”

“That’s not necessary, thank you though,” you replied. You noticed the exhaustive distress in his argentine eyes.

“I’m going to be okay, Ryu,” you reassured him. “I promise. Just don’t touch me for now.”

Akutagawa nodded. “Are you hungry? Is there anything you’re craving?”

“I want…something sweet,” you bashfully replied. “All the hospital food was savory…they missed a dessert.”

You could see the corners of his mouth slightly lift up—an unlikely smile, especially in a place like this. “No explanations are needed. I’ll be back.”

…

He returned with one of the sweets you always picked up whenever you went grocery shopping and a couple of figs for himself. Akutagawa didn’t like sugary things that much, but this fruit he could eat for days. He indeed ate one a day—you were able to observe how long he would be gone on a mission based on how many figs he brought with him.

Akutagawa had brought two today. Was he planning to stay with you overnight? You knew he hated the hospitals—he would never willingly go to one.

Yet here he was, pulling up a chair by your bedside.

“I brought a book,” he said. “Can I read to you?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I didn’t feel like using the TV here anyway, so nothing’s been entertaining.”

The onyx-haired pulled out a book from his coat.

“Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest,” he started.

When Akutagawa was sick, you often read him children’s stories to combat his restlessness. He was calmed by your voice and fell asleep faster than any over-the-counter medication ever worked.

The first time you had found him in the hospital before you were even in a relationship with him, you introduced him to The Little Prince. At first, he scoffed and turned his back the other way, pretending not to listen. But his furrowed brows relaxed, and his frown lifted as you continued with the story—the theme of the openmindedness of children compared to adults, loneliness, love, and loss all gave him something to think about.

Eventually, the book became a source of comfort and light to Akutagawa, and now he had his own copy.

"‘And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.’” By the time Akutagawa had gotten to that part, you had dozed off into a nap.

…

When you finally awoke, the curtains were closed, and the only source of light came from an ambient lamp on the nightstand. And in this night, you also felt a soft pressure on your legs—Akutagawa’s head. He had fallen asleep too, with the book still flipped to a page.

You felt both adoration and woe in your heart. He was sacrificing comfort and possibly his health for you. You desperately felt the need to stroke through his white-tipped raven hair, but you didn’t want to heighten any more chances.

You fell asleep again after minutes of watching your lover’s chest delicately rise and fall, just as he carried his true self without his violent front.

…

Akutagawa stayed until you woke up the following day. He went out to do some errands and then returned with a small gift for you he picked up during the day. That was the routine he followed for the next three days, always content to find you better than the previous day until you were all better.

A nurse came in with a final evaluation and discharged you. You changed into new clothes Akutagawa had brought you before running up and embracing him.

He hugged you back tightly, relieved that you were finally out. He turned to the vase of the pink tulips, which were starting to wither.

“Just in time,” he said.

“The get-well-soon flowers,” you giggled, taking your first good look at them. You loved how he knew of flower symbolism.

“Let’s get out of here,” Akutagawa said, holding out his hand for yours to take. “I despise dwelling in this place any longer.”

SIGMA is worried sick, even though you’re the one sick. how could he not, especially when he isn’t with you? are you feeling alright? drinking enough water? eating well?

“You’re sick?” Sigma asked over the phone.

“Is it my fault? I mean, I was feeling unwell last week, but I got better in a day, so I didn’t think it was that serious…”

“No, it wasn’t; please don’t worry,” you replied. You hated when your lover blamed your problems on himself. “But yeah, it sucks. I even lost my smell! I can’t smell anything.”

“Really?” You sensed his worry through the call.

“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can pick you up and take you there—or I can call the doctor to your house if you’d prefer that-“

“No, it’s okay! It’s not that serious; I’ll be fine in a few days,” you said. “I just wanted to let you know because I won’t be able to see you for a week. But don’t worry about me. I’ll update you.”

“Oh, I see,” Sigma responded. “Alright then.”

Firstly, Sigma was most definitely worried. Secondly, you couldn’t smell? He knew how much you loved the dulcet scents of the desserts he created and the delicate fragrances of your favorite flowers. You must’ve been even a little upset when you realized that sense was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t going to leave you to battle the viruses alone, despite you having just said you didn’t plan to see him until you got better. So, the part lilac, part pearly-haired immediately set out to plan a sweet surprise for you.

…

The next day, Sigma showed up at your front door with a homemade bento box and a few bags of groceries.

“What are you doing here?”

“I at least have to check if you’re eating well.”

One thing that hadn’t changed since meeting Sigma was the butterflies in your stomach feeling. He always showed nothing but ultimate consideration and compassion towards you, treating you like royalty.

“I’m trying,” you replied honestly. “Everything tastes the same. I can’t smell any of it.”

“Maybe it’ll be more appealing if the food looks nice.” With that, he walked to the dining table.

“You haven’t had lunch yet?” You nodded, expectably to him.

“Sit down, love.” He pulled out one of the chairs. You followed him, taking a seat as he prepared your meal—putting a placemat on the table and setting the bento box on top.

You opened the container, and you were revealed with an assortment of the prettiest foods. For the first time this week, you were hungry.

The ones that caught your eye the most were the rice balls decorated to look like chibi versions of you and Sigma. A part of you didn’t want to ruin something so cute.

“What—this is so cute, Sigma! You’re so creative,” you complimented him. “It’s like you cook with magic.”

You noticed Sigma’s cheeks tint a rosy pink. “T-thank you. Go ahead and eat while I prepare your dessert.”

“Dessert?” you asked as you eyed the remaining grocery bags he was holding.

“You’re going to bake here?” You weren’t complaining, but you wondered why he didn’t decide to do it at his place.

“Yeah. That way, it’ll taste the best. Everything tastes the best when it’s freshly baked.”

…

You ended up eating everything. Sigma’s cooking never failed to impress you, even for a previously sated stomach.

“I finished!” you exclaimed, earning a smile from Sigma in the kitchen.

You hadn’t paid attention to what he was making in the meantime. He had put the tray of mystery into the oven a few minutes ago, so you were unable to see what it was.

“It’ll be done in twenty minutes,” Sigma said, walking over to you and taking your hand. “Was it good?”

“Very tasty; I’m full now,” you replied, looking up at him. His ashen eyes shone a gleam of fondness once he made eye contact with you, causing him to fluster again. He was so cute—at times, Sigma still acted like a schoolboy with a crush on you.

“You know your body makes room for dessert,” he noted coyly.

He guided you to stand up, and as you did, a familiar scent softly breezed past you.

The smell of your favorite muffin—and the smell of Sigma’s kitchen. It was faint, but it was there. Your eyes widened in wonder.

“Wait, Sigma—I can smell this!”

Even though it was a bit dramatic, you were cheerful to finally be able to smell any thing after a couple of days. You spun with Sigma around the room in delight. Surrounded by the aroma that made you feel truly at home and the sunrays through the windows, you started to dance together.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, a bit concerned you were spinning around while feeling unwell.

“Yes,” you reassured him, drawing Sigma into an embrace. “I’m just thrilled right now. I think you’re cooking does have magic.”

…

The muffins were out and looked mouthwatering. Sigma took the first one from the tray and peeled down the wrapper.

“First taste is yours,” he said, taking your palm and placing the pastry in your hand.

“Today, I’ll be Sigma’s food critic,” you joked among the two of you. “He’s baked my favorite muffin—I’m rea-ally picky about this dessert, for your information. So I’m going to be really harsh on this review…”

Catching him off guard, you ate the entire sweet in one bite. You started laughing when Sigma abruptly gasped.

“Mm! That was delicious!” you declared, trying to sound like you were trying this for the first time. However, it contradicted the way you were reaching for a second one. Sigma had made this for you hundreds of times before—there was never one time you refused a muffin from him.

“Eleven out of ten!”

“And so are you,” Sigma added, bopping you on the nose. “If my cuisine does involve magic, then I hope that the food works better than medicine.”

bea’s acoustic songs are always so calming & pretty; in my mind, this is what chuuya plays for me. <3

i saw you said you were sick on the dash this month, i’m glad you’re feeling better by now/feel better soon, this is for you <3 @lovedazai @cheriiyaya @chuuyrr @osaemu @atlasnessie

i heard if you rb, your fav will give you get-well kisses until you feel better !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most <3

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tender-rosiey · 10 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

a/n: I am glad you liked it, sweetheart! I hope you enjoy this one as well <33 mentions of blood + death

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.

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

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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asimpforyagami · 24 hours

Note

Fyodor with prompt..14 👉🏻👈🏻

�� A/N ─ love this omg fyodor is such an ass (absolutely scrumptiously sexy)

★ PROMPT ─ 14

!! FT. ─ fyodor

"i'm sorry. i talk too much."

"Yeah, you do," Fyodor said, not paying you any attention. However, when he was met with silence, he realized that you were serious, and god, he had fucked up, because his words had hurt you even more.

Fyodor looked up from his work, his usually cold and unrelenting gaze softened ever so slightly by your words. He saw your figure staring down at the ground, quiet for the first time.

He reached a hand out to you and you leaned away from it, not wanting any of his empty words and apologies right now. But when he pulled his chair closer to yours and leaned in closer to you, you couldn't help but let out a tiny whine.

Fyodor smiled softly - perhaps for the first time in ages - and ruffled your hair. He was never too good with verbal affection when it was genuine, but the way he hugged you soon after told you all that you needed to know.

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fyorina · 2 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 SNEAKIN' A PIC (ATTEMPT: FAILED)!

FEATURING: fyodor dostoevsky

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

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

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

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

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

It wouldn’t be the first time.

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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chososchalupa · 2 months

Note

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

thank you!! <3

cooking for you

includes - Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Akutagawa, Atsushi

wc - 420, 239, 346, 339, 325

not proof read once again bc i am just too sleepy

Dazai -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chuuya -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is delicious, Chu” You smiled

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

Fyodor -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he is planning something for tonight?”

“Maybe” You sighed

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

“Should we go out?” You asked

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Akutagawa -

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gin shrugged as the two of you listened

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

“They’re on facetime” Gin giggled

“Baking a cake?” You whispered back

Gin nodded before Akutagawa spoke,

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

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

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

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

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

“A cake? What flavor?” You asked

“It is vanilla with chocolate frosting”

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

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

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

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

She laughed and waved at you before turning to her room

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

“Of course, darling. Happy birthday”

Atsushi -

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

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

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

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

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

“You are almost as bad as Dazai,” Kunikida said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Atsushi stood from his desk, “I’m finished mine. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nodded as you laid your head back on your desk, this was going to take forever.

You ended up finishing two papers before your boyfriend came back, covered in sweat.

“Where did you go? Why do you look like you just ran five miles?” You asked, looking down at the bag in his hand.

“I did run five miles” He replied, lifting the bag in his hand up “I went to the store and got us food!”

You nearly jumped from your chair as Atsushi pulled two cup ramens from the bag, “This should be enough until you’re finished with yours and Ranpos papers. We can go out once we’re done!”

“You are the absolute best, Atsushi” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek as you took the food from his hand.

You went to leave the room, going to make your noodles until you heard Kunikida yell, “Get back to work!”

You went to yell back but Atsushi grabbing the food from your hand distracted you, “Go back. I’ll make it for us”

You smiled and nodded, heading back to your desk to finish up the never-ending pile of work that was waiting for you.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd imagines #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #akutagawa x reader #atsushi x reader #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #akutagawa ryuunosuke #atsushi nakajima #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs imagine

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chuuyrr · 3 months

Text

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 .ᐟ

feat: dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ CW(s): gn! reader, mentions of alcohol (reader is drunk)

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you drink too much and don't even realize that your boyfriend is your boyfriend or you might as well be drunk in love

in the dimly lit bar, the air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. you found yourself swirling the remnants of a colorful cocktail, the room around you blurring as the night progressed.

DAZAI sits beside you, and couldn't help but notice your flushed-pink demeanor, fueled by the drinks you had consumed, and giggles to himself.

in your tipsy state, you tilt your head, looking at dazai with a playful suspicion. the room spun slightly, and you sway on your seat, trying to focus on his face.

"you know," you slur, "you're a suspicious stranger. i bet you've got some secret agenda." you point an accusing finger at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

dazai, amused by your playful accusations, couldn't help but giggle even more, "oh, do i now? well, i'm just a harmless 'stranger' who happened to find the most adorable drunk person in the entire bar."

you raise an eyebrow skeptically, still not recognizing him, "adorable, huh? well, mr. stranger-fanger, you're gonna have to prove it." you cross your arms, a challenging smirk on your flushed face.

dazai, seizing the opportunity, wraps his arms around you with a mockingly serious expression, "see? no danger here, just a guy who appreciates adorable drunks."

you broke into a fit of giggles, melting into his embrace, "well, you're not that bad for a stranger, i guess."

completely unaware that the 'stranger' was, in fact, your boyfriend, you continued to enjoy the whimsical dance of laughter and teasing, creating a memory that would undoubtedly be cherished in the days to come.

"i'm gonna be serious though, i am your boyfriend," dazai says to you.

you blink softly at him, your tipsy-drunk state had somehow lead you to look at him as such. dazai blinks back before a grin starts to tug on his lips.

"do i have to remind my dearest? well, then. buckle up because you're in for a treat!" he says before he instantly starts peppering your face in kisses as he holds you tightly.

you immediately start to squeal and giggle as you are reminded of the constant kisses that your boyfriend would give you admist the alcohol in your system.

"osamuuu!" you say in a soft whine before he pecks your lips.

dazai grins even more widely at your cute little whine as he cups your face now, "that's more like it. goodness, such an adorable drunk you are, hmm?"

CHUUYA watches with a mix of concern and amusement as your cheerful demeanor transformed into a tipsy state.

as the night wore on, chuuya decides it was time to take you home. he gently placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, trying to capture your attention, "hey, it's getting late. how about we head home?" he suggests, his voice warm and caring.

however, in your inebriated state, you misinterpreted the situation. you gasp sharply before you squirm in your seat and whine softly, "nooo, i'm having so much fun here! plus, you can't take me home! i have a boyfriend!"

chuuya was flabbergasted, but he couldn't help but chuckle at your resistance afterwards upon seeing this, "come on, baby, i'm not a stranger. i'm your boyfriend, and I just want to make sure you get home safely."

now it's you blinking softly, looking at him with a mix of confusion and innocence, "boyfriend? really?" you giggle, completely unaware of the true nature of your relationship.

"you're being so silly right now, i almost can't with you," chuuya sighs, still laughing softly, "geez, i didn't know my baby can be this forgetful with this much alcohol."

undeterred, chuuya continued to coax you gently, his amusement growing as you stare at him in awe as you begin to pat his cheeks in your warm hands, "this pretty face is all mine?"

chuuya chuckles again, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he takes your hands in his before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on your lips and whispering, "i'm all yours, baby."

the night unfolded in a blend of laughter, warmth, and the endearing challenge of convincing you that the 'stranger' was, in fact, the person who cared for you the most, and you couldn't help but giggle even more into the kiss.

FYODOR observes your increasing intoxication with a measured gaze, a sense of concern clouding his usually composed demeanor.

as the night unfolds, you continued to enjoy the array of drinks that nikolai had generously provided you two. fyodor, recognizing the potential consequences, decided it was time to intervene. he places a hand gently on your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"dear, perhaps it's time to slow down," fyodor suggests, his voice calm and measured as he tries to get you to stop.

you looked at him with a tipsy grin, oblivious to the fact that fyodor was your boyfriend, "but nikolai is just being generous. no harm in a few more, riiight?"

fyodor's piercing gaze held a mixture of concern and determination, "i'd rather not see you regretting this tomorrow. let's enjoy the night responsibly," he insists, attempting to guide you away from the tempting allure of more drinks.

however, in your intoxicated state, you resisted his efforts, misinterpreting his intentions, "oh, come on! live a little, stranger!" you playfully tease, unaware that fyodor was the person you were romantically involved with.

fyodor couldn't help but hide a small smile at your playful antics, though he inwardly feels a twinge of sadness at being referred to as a stranger, maintained his composure.

he observes you with a subtle sadness in his eyes, a fleeting emotion that betrayed the depth of his feelings. still, he wasn't one to give up easily.

with a gentle touch, he cupped your face, making you meet his gaze, "remember, i'm the one who cares deeply for you," he murmurs with a faint smile, his eyes staring in yours.

"i may be a stranger in this particular scenario, but i am not to you," fyodor replies softly, realizing that your drunken state was proving to be a barrier. yet, he didn't relent.

the realization began to dawn on you, your intoxicated mind slowly connecting the dots, "wait a minute... you care about me? really?"

fyodor nods, his eyes holding a mixture of hope and longing, "more than you can imagine."

you blink softly, still processing the situation through the haze of alcohol. before you could react, fyodor leaned in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss against your lips. the touch was tender yet filled with an unspoken depth of emotion, an attempt to bridge the gap that had momentarily separated you.

as the kiss unfolded, a subtle warmth spread through you, and the fog of intoxication seemed to lift momentarily. the taste of familiarity mingled with the hint of sadness, creating a poignant moment that transcended the blurred boundaries of the night. fyodor then pulls away, his gaze searching yours for any signs of recognition.

there was a pause, a moment of suspended realization. slowly, your eyes widened, and a spark of recognition flickered within them. "wait," you whisper, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and clarity as you smile. "you're not a stranger, only my fedya kisses me like that!"

a soft smile tugged at the corners of fyodor's lips as the weight of being called a stranger lifted. the kiss had served as a catalyst, a bridge that connected the fragments of memory scattered in the alcohol-induced haze.

"my, my, how could you forget your fedya, dear?" fyodor sighs, shaking his head before he kisses your lips again and whispers, "traitor.."

ꨄ˙ A.N.: i feel like i might have written fyodor in an ooc-ish way, and if i did, i apologize !! haven't written for him in so long and i don't write for him as often as dazai and chuuya. this is also kinda silly i think now that i've finished writing this lol !! thank you so much for reading until the end (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

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chuunai · 4 months

Note

Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool

I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14

Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo

Fire away friend

I’m sorry for making you sick : (

✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky

how can a baby control his heart?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.

Lord, she looked so much like him.

Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?

It made sense, though. Yin and yang.

Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.

He’d worked enough for today.

Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.

For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.

Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.

His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.

“She’s doing okay?”

As if his little angel would ever be harmed.

“Of course, дорогой.”

He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.

“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”

It was only fair.

You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.

In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.

Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.

He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.

And his Avdotya should have the same experience.

Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.

He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.

Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.

The finale soon came.

He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.

Not an angel like his Dunya.

Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.

Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.

A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.

A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.

Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.

Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.

Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.

While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.

Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?

Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.

He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.

Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.

“My goddess.”

His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.

And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.

And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.

That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.

They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.

But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

Help this took so long

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #fem reader #baby fever #baby fic #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd tag #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bsd spoilers

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