#fyodor.zip

Considering this, you could have had a nice sleep for once… if it wasn’t for the rain storming outside.

A sudden thunder crash caused you to abruptly wake up in the middle of your dream— Your heart thumping quickly against your chest and your breath coming out in heavy gasps. You felt disoriented for a few seconds until you eventually calmed down.

Usually, storms don’t scare you, in fact, they’re quite enjoyable along with a lecture or a movie, but not now when you're alone in your room and in the middle of the night, surrounded by the darkness and with your vision barely helping you to perceive your surroundings.

Among the dark, shadows shape into tall monsters lurking from the corner of your room, seemingly waiting for the right moment to lay their ghostly hands on you before disappearing after each lightning. The brief second of luminance makes you realize that those shadows are just that, no one was going to actually hurt you.

Yet, going back into the land of dreams was difficult under these circumstances.

You tried by closing your eyes, ignoring the “monsters” and the loud rumbling of the thunderstorm, and taking deep breaths to calm your unsteady heart but you just couldn't fall asleep. The unsafe sensation wouldn't go away, perhaps until the sun rises again.

However, you had some kind of idea that could help you sleep.

You sat on your bed for a while, contemplating the storm through the window that doesn't seem to end anytime soon and trying to gain the courage to leave your room.

Maybe this idea wasn't the best one you could have, but it was the first thing that came to your sleepy brain, and it's not like you were in the mood to think of any consequences due to what you were going to do.

With a light groan, you leave the comfort of your bed and grab your fluffy pillow in between your arms. The wooden floor cracks under your feet as you make your way to the door of your room then carefully opening it, peeking through the small gap, making sure no dangers are around before stepping outside.

Luckily, the hallway was slightly illuminated with one lamp that hung from the ceiling— The old wooden floor cracks under your deliberated steps as you make your way to his room. Once you stand in front of it, and just as you place a hand on the knob, another sudden thunder makes you jerk in surprise.

Was that a sign from God to not do this?

Without properly rethinking —also too tired to think of any potential risks— you twist the knob, and immediately your eyes land on his sleeping peaceful form; almost completely wrapped with a blanket but letting you see his face. His lips barely parted and his eyelashes rested over his cheeks.

It's not every day when you see Fyodor sleeping on a comfy mattress…

Until now, you had always seen him working day and night underground, sitting in front of his bright purple monitor screen and typing away weird codes or messages that seemed impossible for you to deceive. And if he was not working underground, instead, he was taking a stroll through the city or drinking tea in some restaurant that picked his curiosity.

But sleeping didn't seem to be like a normal activity for him to do.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, hm?”

Fyodor's groggy voice makes you snap out of your thoughts. Now he’s looking at you with a gentle smile as you stand on his doorframe, gripping your pillow awkwardly as you wait for some type of permission— And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he motions for you to come closer with his hand.

The mattress sinks under your weight as you get into the bed and place your pillow just beside his. Wasting no time, Fyodor wraps his blanket around your frame. And it takes some time for you to realize that he's gladly sharing his personal space, which adds to another unusual thing he's doing tonight.

“I couldn't sleep.” You mutter, as he pulls you closer.

“Why's that, dearest?”

“The storm…”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, finding adorable the fact that you needed company just because of a mere storm. Though, he knew the answer even before you said it.

One of his hands —usually cold— is now warming up your cheek, cupping it and rubbing small circles with his thumb as if to soothe you, to tell that he’s there for you without any words needed, simply light touches and whispers shared in between the two.

And for a small second you return the gesture, gently tracing the dark circles underneath his eyes as you scan his features; his thin eyebrows, his purple eyes, and his nose before finally stopping at his lips— His lower lip a little bitten and red.

Unconsciously, your own lips twitch upwards as your mind clouds with the idea of kissing every inch of his pale skin, having him softly laughing underneath you.

To hide your smile, you rest your head against his chest, pressing your ear to where his heart is. The soft thud makes a gentle symphony, a calming sound, that allows any tension left in your body to slip away. Fyodor’s presence fills your senses, making you forget about the rain violently storming outside. Something pulls you closer as your arms wrap around him.

Fyodor doesn’t complain of the proximity, instead, his slender fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his digits or untying knots that were made while you were sleeping before the thunder strike woke you up.

It’s not a surprise that your eyelids eventually start feeling heavy, with all the sweet caresses and the warmth provided, your body is ready to resume your sleep, enveloped in the most comfortable shelter you could ever ask for—

“Oh…”

One of Fyodor's hands cups the back of your head tenderly, pulling you flush against him as if to avoid someone from snatching his most precious thing.

“…What’s wrong, Fedya?” You want to pull away, but a high-pitched giggle comes from behind you, accompanied by the sound of rustling the sheets.

Seems like we have company.

“What are you two doing sleeping without me? That's mean… Leaving a friend out is not nice, dovey.” Nikolai grumbles as he climbs to the bed, lying on his side and hugging you from behind, “Why not come to me when the storm startles your peaceful sleep, hm?

The jester seems not afraid in the slightest to have physical contact with Fyodor, or anyone really…

You can feel his hand removing Fyodor's from your head before he nuzzles against the crook of your neck; the tip of his nose brushes up and down your skin purposely to tickle you. Oh, how much Nikolai loved hearing your giggles as you squirmed around his bear hug, it made his heart almost beat out of his chest.

“I do not recall asking you to show up in my room, Nikolai.” By the tone of his voice, Fyodor doesn't seem pleased with the additional company taking space on his bed and ruining your peaceful encounter.

Nikolai’s hands trail up your ribs, and without any warning, he begins tickling you— not stopping even as you try to pry them away among laughs.

“Dove, you’re not gonna make me leave, are you?” He whispers against your ear, voice whiny and you are almost completely sure that he's pouting right now, hoping you at least feel pity for leaving him out, “Tell Dos that you want me to stay…”

But just by eyeing Fyodor, the answer is more than clear on his face. Refuting his words to let Nikolai sleep with the two of you is most likely ending with you and the jester being kicked out.

“C'mon, C'mon! You're scared of the storm, aren't you, birdie?” Nikolai pecks your cheek and pets your hair dramatically. “Poor baby! Shouldn't we help this frail dove together, Dos?”

“There's no need for that.” Fyodor's patience is going thin.

Nikolai clicks his tongue in annoyance, sitting up on the bed with his arms crossed like a child and glaring at Fyodor for a while, trying to convince him just by holding eye contact until he gives up, knowing there’s no room for negotiating.

“Fine, I'll leave… Gosh, you're such a killjoy.”

As he slips out the bed, muttering curses under his breath, Fyodor sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not the first —and definitely not the last— time he has to put up with Nikolai’s behavior.

God blessed him this time, it seems. He didn't need to make too much of a fuss to make Nikolai leave.

When the door opens and the jester intruder is ready to leave in order to resume the calming moment that Fyodor was truly appreciating, instead of leaving, Nikolai throws his arms up in the air excitedly.

“Dear Sigma! What a great surprise!”

The casino manager stands in the doorframe, rubbing one of his eyes. It appears like his sleep was interrupted as well.

“Uhm… Could you guys keep it down, please? I woke up because you're so noisy and I'm trying to—”

Sigma didn't have time to finish speaking before he was dragged by Nikolai, tugging on his sleeve and pulling him to the bed. Fyodor’s bed. Then pushing him down to the mattress as if he was nothing but another plushie added to the collection.

“Gogol! I didn’t come here to have a sleepover!” Sigma complains, rolling his eyes before meeting your gaze, and giving you an awkward smile.

Then meeting Fyodor's.

Something didn’t seem to add up.

“Am I… missing something?”

“This little dove needs our help, my dear friend! You see, the storm ruffled their lovely feathers so they needed to shelter in our embrace.”

Sigma raises an eyebrow at the jester’s words, and even if he's stuck in this —unwanted— situation it's not difficult to understand the message. He sighs, lying back on the bed and holding your hand, “It’s going to be okay, angel.”

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before bringing it to his lips and placing a soft peck on the back of it. He cares about you more than he hates having to deal with Nikolai.

The four of you managed to fit in Fyodor's bed with little space in between. Nikolai's head is now resting on your chest, him in between your legs, his arms around your waist. On the other hand, Fyodor and Sigma were lying on each side of you, either playing with your hair or stroking your hand. Any soft touch brings you closer to dozing off.

Fyodor mutters a small apology because of his "friends" behavior. His fingers graze your palm before he locks his fingers with yours as well. Silence slowly begins flooding the room; you feel perfectly safe with them around, so you close your eyes, letting your body relax.

“Oh! I have the greatest idea, how about we have a sleepover and do our nails and—”

“Nikolai.” The three of you called his name almost as if grounding a child; making the jester frown and pout.

You couldn't suppress your giggles, thinking that this might be the first —and the last— time you'll have the three men from the same dangerous organization sleeping together in the same bed only because they care about you, in their own way.

The storm slowly fades away, forgotten in the warmth of their embrace.

When waking up the next morning, you'll have to face the pain in your limbs from being entangled around them… And wondering how you and Fyodor ended up in between Sigma and Nikolai's hug.

You, sitting almost in the front row, couldn't enjoy slacking off because she would most likely notice and find it disrespectful, which would eventually lead to getting in trouble.

But the sleepiness was starting to get you.

You were resting your face against your palm, eyelids heavy as you fought to stay awake.

Slowly, the teacher's voice seemed to grow distant.

Before you can gladly slip into the land of dreams, someone kicks your foot, making you flinch awake once more. Turning to your side, Dazai was chuckling.

“I don't want you getting in trouble y’know? You still have to come with me to my chess session after class.” He flashes you a mocking pout before returning his attention to the teacher— He wasn't listening either, after all, he had earbuds on.

Oh, right, you promised Dazai to go to his chess session because he "would feel lonely if his bestie is not there”. Actually, he probably just wanted to show off his abilities since he knew you lack of understanding in chess. At least that's what you thought.

Dazai told you he usually has this session with Dostoevsky, the top student with the best grades on campus. Nobody truly knows who of the two is the best, but no one can deny their big brains. You inevitably roll your eyes at the thought of two smarties having a deep conversation in front of you during their chess game.

The two of them were popular, though Fyodor doesn't seem to care about it. He doesn't want more friends than the two weirdos he's with, nor does he care about having a good relationship with other people on the campus— When someone asks him for help about a certain subject, he shoves them off by telling them “Go ask the teacher about it.”

Dazai on the other hand, it's much more social and gets along with almost everyone, but he has very few people whom he really trusts. You are one of them.

The bell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Everyone stood up as quickly as they could to leave this tedious class and get some fresh air. Sadly, you had to face yet another unamusing event.

You took a deep breath.

Maybe this wasn't too bad? You had to think positively. Maybe you could even learn something from these two nerds.

You stretched your arms up, relaxing your muscles and letting out a soft groan before standing up from your chair and putting your things back in your bag. Dazai did too, and after you two had gathered your things, you left the classroom.

You don't know Fyodor at all. Other than knowing he's fighting for the Top Student position with Dazai and that he has two friends— everything else about him is an enigma.

You can't deny you were at least a bit excited about seeing him perform his chess tactics. Despite your lack of knowledge about the game.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♱ ˚₊‧⁺˖

After walking along with Dazai for a while, going upstairs to the last floor of the building, where there were empty classrooms reserved for club activities, you stand in front of the chess club door. The hallway was quite empty, and not a lot of people chose to participate in clubs these days— You knew these rooms were mostly for other activities that went from occultism to having sex. However the latter doesn't happen anymore since cameras were installed. You're thankful for that.

“Don't be scared of Fyodor. He won't bite as long as I'm here.” Dazai laughs softly as he opens the door of the room. His words only make you frown at him.

The room was quite spacious and there were a few other students playing chess too. There was a nice silence around. The only noise is the chess pieces being placed on the chessboard with each turn.

“You're late as always, Dazai.”

Your attention is drawn to Fyodor, who's sitting with his arms and legs crossed, one above the other; a stoic expression on his face.

He was wearing a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, his coat was hanging on the back of his chair, his hair was tucked behind his ear and you noticed that he had a silver necklace with a cross.

Your fingers twitch slightly and your heart beats a little faster.

Ah, he is prettier up close.

What? No.

You didn't realize that you were staring at him for so long until his dark purple eyes went to your face and he raised an eyebrow.

Fyodor eyed you up and down as if you were a piece of meat for him to enjoy. The way your body tenses under his gaze; hands sneaking behind your back, lips pressing together, eyes trying to look anywhere but his. All of it gives him the hint that you'll be a nice prey.

“Oh? You brought a guest I see.” Fyodor smiles at you briefly, kindly, before looking back at Dazai who was placing his bag on the floor and sitting in front of him. He was very calm though he was facing another smart man such as him.

“She's my lucky charm.” He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes, unamused. You sat in front of the small square table, arms crossed, ready to watch the development of this game.

“Shall we begin, then, Dazai?”

“Of course.” Dazai giggles, wasting no time grabbing a white piece and making his move. “Seems like I have the upper hand today.”

Fyodor smirks, his slim fingers moving so delicately as he takes his turn.

Both of them seemed very relaxed as they played. Discussing random topics, and speaking with difficult words made it a little hard for you to understand their conversation.

But the tension was slowly starting to build up— Each turn was beginning to take more than a couple of seconds. They were taking their time before making any movements, and the smiles on both of the men's faces were starting to disappear as they went silent.

You, on the other hand, were almost falling asleep like back in class. What was the point of watching them play if you didn't understand how the game goes? Plus, they were in complete silence, how was this supposed to help you learn more about their stupid smart brains?

Ah, might as well take a little nap then.

“Shit.”

Dazai groaned in annoyance as his phone suddenly vibrated, distracting him from the game. After seeing who was calling, he stood up from the chair and walked out of the room without even excusing himself.

Your eyes followed Dazai as he left the room, lips parted in confusion.

Great, now you were left alone with Dostoevsky— Well… almost. There were other people playing chess in the room too but they were minding their own business.

Fyodor sighs, looking down at the chessboard before looking at you and tilting his head to the side.

Of course, he was going to take advantage now that the two of you were alone. He was eyeing his little prey and hopefully, he could get a pretty reaction if he pushed the right buttons.

God, forgive him for being so greedy.

“Do you want to play?”

You look in his direction, blinking a few times in confusion.

Telling him that you don't know how to play was going to be embarrassing as hell. He was going to make fun of you, probably. But, you didn't know that he could read you like a book. So Fyodor already noticed that you didn't understand the rules of chess.

You press your lips together, avoiding his penetrating gaze that makes something inside you tingle.

“I'll teach you, just pay attention because I'm not going to repeat myself.”

You nod, giving him a shy smile before taking Dazai's seat while begging internally for him to come back. Was that call so damn important?

“Move Knight to e6.”

“Sorry— what?”

Fyodor raises an eyebrow, waiting for your move. Like he said, he won't be telling you the same thing twice.

Looking down at the chessboard, you try to identify who's the “Knight”— Which wasn't so difficult, but now you have to move it somewhere you don't know.

When your eyes move from the board to him, you can see he's smiling. Oh, god. You hope Fyodor doesn't notice the way your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

But he did.

As if reading your mind again. Fyodor stands up from his seat and walks behind you; One hand on the back of your chair and the other pointing at a square from the chessboard. Dark locks of hair tickle your cheeks, a faint scent of coffee emanating from him. Would his lips taste like coffee too?

You press your thighs together, lowering your head down a little as his chest grazes against your back slightly; you can't help but feel smaller against him.

“…Now, did you understand?”

His smooth voice rings against your ear; low as if he was telling you a secret. Hell. You could even feel his lips brushing against the helix of your ear.

“I—”

You're interrupted before you can speak.

“Well, seems like we need to continue this game for later, Dos—”

Dazai stops in front of you with his phone in hand. His eyes opened wide and his lips parted in surprise.

“You two are getting along I see.” He snorts, grabbing his bag from the floor. “I’m leaving though, have fun. See you tomorrow, Dostoyevsky.” And with that, Dazai walks out the door again.

You panic.

You can't be alone with Dostoyevsky again after knowing how nervous you get with him close; how you look at him with a dumb expression after he speaks because you're too focused on his pretty features.

Fuck. No, what are you thinking about? He's not that handsome.

Fyodor is a smart man, he's probably just teasing you with light touches to rail you up and make fun of you later for being so easy. There's no way you're going to let this man play with your mind as if it is his toy.

“Wait! Osamu!” You quickly leave the chair, grabbing your bag as well and leaving behind Dazai.

For a small second you turn around. Fyodor's eyes met with yours; he was smiling again. Your eyes widened and you swore you could read his lips saying “Goodbye, my dear.”

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♱ ˚₊‧⁺˖

It's been a few days since you last interacted with Fyodor. And, since that first and —hopefully— last encounter, you were trying to avoid him.

You don't want to fall deeper into him.

After Dazai saw you two being very close, he kept messing with you about it.

“You two would make a great combination. The not-so-smart introvert girl and the top student intimidating Dostoyevsky… top student after me of course.”

“Why do you blush every single time he speaks? Do you think his voice is hot or something?”

“I saw you staring at Dostoyevsky in class today, are you sure you don't like him, hm?”

What a nuisance.

Of course, you didn't like him. You were trying to avoid him at all costs. Doesn't that make your dislike for him much more obvious?

In fact, you were sure you hated him.

Each time he spoke in class he always answered right with that unamused expression and with that egocentric tone that makes you roll your eyes.

There was no way you could fall for someone like him.

You sigh, currently walking down the hallway to the library, hoping to find some rest and silence from the noisy students and from your stupid brain that had been thinking about Dostoyevsky these last days.

The library had an old tone to it; yellowish lights and dark brown old shelves that went from the floor to the ceiling. Two floors full of books from all the subjects any student could find for their projects or to pass the time.

Even if it was full of people, the silence was almost absolute if it wasn't for a few people whispering and giggling. Still, it was a very peaceful place. Sometimes you wish you could stay here forever.

Since you know the place very well, you went straight to your favorite spot in the enormous library— It was under a stair, where there was an old dark green couch that was kind of comfy, enough to spend more than a few hours reading on it.

You remember leaving a book yesterday on the couch, after all, nobody went there; it was after walking through a long-ass corridor and after a few turns. Who would explore this big library completely like you did? No one, of course.

Well… You were wrong.

“What the fuck?”

“Hm? What a wonderful surprise…”

Seriously?

You cross your arms in front of your chest while looking down at Fyodor who was sitting on the couch with your book in his hands. You were trying to avoid him and he was the one that came to you. Funny.

Fyodor closed the book, placing it to the side before leaning back with his legs spread and his arms crossed as well.

“Nice book. You have good taste, sweetheart.”

The hell with this—

You turn around ready to leave, but he quickly grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him until you are standing in between his legs. His dark eyes look up at you.

“Why are you avoiding me? I'm not stupid, I see everything, you know?”

He loosens his grip on your wrist, his thumb caressing the back of your hand slowly. From this close, you can see his dark circles and his pale skin. Damn, he looks like a vampire…

“It's none of your business.” You frown, pushing his hand away.

“Do I make you so nervous, hm?”

Fyodor grins, leaning back once more. His smug expression only makes you more mad and you're beginning to wonder if he's doing it on purpose to get a kick out of this like last time.

He can't deny that he's enjoying it; You're so easy to get riled up that it's almost boring. Though your pretty pouty face is worth it.

“Shut up. You're in my seat. Leave.” You tried to keep a stern voice but Fyodor didn't budge from his seat.

“I'm not moving. If you want to sit on this couch so badly, might as well sit on my lap.” He pats his thigh, giving you a smirk.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He was playing with you again, probably laughing internally too— thinking you're just a stupid silly girl who can fall so easily into his trap.

He was using you as his entertaining resource.

Fine. You might as well play along.

With a hum, you flop on his lap, getting comfortable and leaning your back against his chest to which Fyodor immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Such an obedient girl.”

You squirm on his lap, feeling how butterflies flutter inside your tummy. While trying to mask your sudden arousal, you reached for the book you wanted to read and opened it to where you left it before. While doing so, Fyodor's large fingers start kneading on your waist, slowly, as if he was savoring the feeling of your body against his palms.

“Are you enjoying your reading?”

You nod. The truth is that you can't even read with his hands exploring your waist and his pretty voice against your ear. You're only looking at empty words in the book, your mind not paying attention to the sentences or paragraphs.

Fyodor's hand brushed against your neck, and the coldness of it made you flinch. He pushed your hair aside, exposing your neck to him.

“Why don't you read for me out loud?”

“Why should I?” You shrug, completely leaning against his body again, trying to suffocate him or something— though it seems like having the contrary effect as his hands pull your hips to him.

“I want to know if you're focused on your little book or me.”

Cocky bastard.

You clear your throat to begin with your reading, but as soon as you open your mouth, his lips brush against the skin of your neck, leaving a small peck.

“Go on. I'm waiting, dear.”

Then, he presses another peck, waiting a few seconds before doing the same.

God. You can't react in this situation. Your body squirms with each touch or whisper. Your thighs pressed together and you look down at the book, trying to focus on the words but it's impossible.

“Ah—”

You whine, feeling his tongue teasing the crook of your neck before sucking on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist again, caging you against him.

The air was starting to get heavy and you had already forgotten that you were in a public library; your mind getting foggy with the thought of what was going to happen eventually.

As he pulls away, kissing the new hickey he left, one hand wanders down to your thigh, squeezing it.

“You know you can leave if you don't want this, right?” You didn't answer, not wanting to fulfill his egocentric wishes.

“Hey, I'm talking to you.”

A hand slides to your neck, pressing a little, as he leans closer to your ear. He thrusts up while keeping your hips against his, trying to “fix” his position.

Ah, but you can feel his hardness against your ass.

“It seems like you're too shy to speak, so, let's do this; If you want to leave, just push my hands away from your body and I'll set you free…”

He chuckles, placing another peck on your neck.

“But if you don't want to leave… Spread those thighs for me, dearest.”

How humiliating; Your body was reacting on its own, and you spread your thighs for him. Without wasting any time, the hand that was on your hip slides inside your pants, lithe fingers finding the wet spot on your panties.

“Huh, how naughty.” You can hear him chuckling behind you.

You barely close your thighs again, feeling shy as his fingertips tease up and down your covered pussy, emanating soft moans from you. With your lips parted, he slid two fingers inside your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Suck on them and don't be loud, honey.” He whispers, kissing the back of your neck soothingly to distract you from the advance of his other two fingers over your pussy.

Pushing your panties aside, he groans at the wet and warm feeling. Coating his fingers with your arousal first before slowly inserting a finger. Fyodor rolls his eyes at the sensation— you were squeezing him so tight that he almost felt pity for your cunt; If you were already squeezing his finger so much, how would it be when he's balls deep inside you.

Saliva slips from your lips down your chin as you keep sucking on his other fingers that are keeping your mouth entertained. Trying your best not to moan out loud when his finger that was over your pussy began sliding in and out, reaching that sweet spot of yours with each thrust.

“I'm going to add another finger, pretty. Keep being good for me..”

Another groan leaves Fyodor's lips when you squeeze his finger at his praise. Oh, well, he was going to make sure to praise you lots then.

As his middle finger makes its way inside you and you whine at the stretching, his whole hand clads your mouth, not letting any noise escape from you.

“Fuck… Do you want someone to catch us?”

You shake your head from side to side, picturing how humiliating it would be if someone finds you sitting on Fyodor's lap and moaning because of his skilled fingers that reach where yours can't.

When his two fingers start moving, you're already in heaven. Grinding your hips and spreading your thighs further to give him space to go knuckles deep.

“Is my sweet angel going to cum on my fingers? Do it, dear, be a good girl for me.” Fyodor moans against your ear, slightly grinding his hips against yours as you approach your climax.

Your thighs close and you let out a muffled whimper as you come all over his fingers, walls clamping down on him as he presses his hand harder against your mouth, whispering sweet praises before sliding his sticky fingers out of your cunt and taking his hand off your mouth to let you breathe.

Fyodor is nice enough to push your panties back in place before removing his hand from your pants. His sticky fingertips tap your lower tip a few times so you can open up and lick them clean.

“Good girl…”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, caressing your cheek, and you take the opportunity to turn around and fall to your knees in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs. You might as well worship him like he did with you.

He was nice to you, so why not be nice to him as well? After all, you were eager to see what's underneath his intimidating façade.

“Ah— Right now it might not be the moment, dear.”

You frown, resting your cheek against his thigh.

“My apologies, but this place is quite risky, you already made a lot of noise and people might be wondering,” Fyodor smirks before leaning down to kiss the crown of your head as he removes his silver necklace to place it on your neck instead.

“We'll continue this another day, I promise.” He tilts your chin up, leaning in and kissing you slowly, slipping his tongue past your lips and groaning against your mouth while his hand squeezes your cheeks together, not letting you pull away before he's done with you.

So he does taste like coffee.

Fyodor withdraws, leaving one last peck on your lips before completely pulling away.

“Goodbye, my dear.”

Giving you one last soft smile, he stands up and walks away, leaving you sitting on the floor with red cheeks and heavy breathing.

You look down at the cross hanging from his necklace. Now resting on your chest.

God, you want to taste his lips again.

You knock on the door of his room and slowly open it up once you hear him saying “Come in” and then close the door behind you.

“Fedya, how are you feeling?”

He doesn't answer until you're standing beside him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He seems tired, his eye bags seem darker and his brows are knitting together in frustration.

“It's the seventh time in the day that you're asking that, love.” Fyodor's eyes don't leave the screen, and it makes you pout. You place your hands on the armrest of his chair; turning him around to face you.

“Don't you need some rest? you've been working so hard…” You lean closer, placing a peck on his nose that causes him to smile slightly. The stress slowly dissipates at your touches and words

Soon, that small smile falters when you crawl on top of him, sitting on his lap, pressing your body against his and cupping his cold cheeks with your palms.

“Dear?” Fyodor is startled though he seems very calm and composed, placing his hands on your waist as you straddle him, with your knees on each side of his hips. “What are you planning to do, mhm?”

He raises an eyebrow at you as your arms wrap around his neck; his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, smirking at the sight of your beautiful face.

“You're the prettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on.” He whispers against your lips before pulling you into a kiss— one of his hands moves from your waist to the back of your head, deepening the connection between the two of you.

Your hips grind against his, eventually feeling his hardness against your crotch; He cannot control his urges, so of course he's going to get hard when the most precious woman is in front of him.

After pulling away, you both breathing heavily, he curses under his breath, hissing at the small contact over the tent on his pants.

“Oh, fuck… darling, could you please get up?” Fyodor’s nervous smile only makes you giggle. His hands clutch at your hips while looking down with his eyes shut tight, trying to fight his sinful urges.

When you grind your hips a bit more, he's already moaning, pushing you down against his clothed cock a bit more.

But of course, only grinding wouldn't bring the same satisfaction as having his cock buried inside your warm walls— so you stop your movements to remove your shorts and panties together, throwing them to the floor.

Fyodor still doesn't remove his pants though, he's too busy looking at your pussy to do something himself. Imagining the way it'll wrap around his cock soon.

The moment you unzip his pants, brushing your fingers against his twitching cock, he throws his head back, moaning lowly. You pull down his boxers that are already stained with pre-cum, letting his cock spring free.

“Goodness…” His eyes roll back as you grind your bare pussy against his length, teasing his sensitive cock. “You've wanted me for a very long time, don't you, dearest? I'm doing this for you, of course, why would I— ngh!”

Before he knew it, his cock was inside you; your walls contracting around him being too much. Once again, he has to hold you still until the need to cum in the moment has gone.

Fyodor glares up at you with half-lidded eyes, squeezing your hips and guiding them up and down slowly, trying to get used to the new feeling. He didn't know having your warm tight walls around his cock would feel so sinfully good.

His eyes close, focusing on the squelching noises that echoed through the dark room— He throws his head back again, letting out small groans that he couldn't hold back as much as he liked to.

One of his hands slides down to your clit, his thumb curling it slowly, making you moan louder— He keeps you still, only guiding your hips to grind them against his.

Fyodor knows he's close, and he won't let you climax without him, so as his cock twitches, ready to fill you up, he stimulates your clit faster, sending the two of you over the edge.

His forehead rests against your cleavage, trying to hide his whimpers while he thrusts up, painting your walls white.

Fyodor sighs, hoping God forgives him for finding arousing such carnal desires.

You think it's maybe because of the way he lived; the things one experiences are the main reason why someone acts or thinks the way they do, most of the time. So, that means that Fyodor probably had experience meeting lots of people who were “sinful” and “foolish” as he describes them in every single deep conversation that the two of you have.

Aside from the debates, Fyodor adores being able to discuss philosophical things with you— his lovely partner turning serious as he speaks, carefully listening to everything he has to say with those big eyes just makes him fall deeper in love. He's never going to directly tell you how much he enjoys it, you just have to get the hint.

Currently, Fyodor was sitting on his desk, his ushanka resting on the table among a few documents scattered on the surface— documents with government agents' faces on them and long paragraphs, a lot of words were underlined with fluorescent highlighter.

He was completely immersed in his work until he felt a pair of soft hands massaging his tensed shoulders; which was enough for him to lose focus.

“Fedya, do you not feel tired?” Your words make him sigh. Maybe he was overworking himself again, but that doesn't matter when all of this is in order to purge the world from sin.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle rub on his back that is eventually making him feel drowsy. Regardless of how dangerous of a man Fyodor is, the touch of his beloved reduces him into a soft lovesick puppy— though he tries to hide it.

A smile spreads across his face when you turn his head to the side, hooking a finger under his chin, and pressing a tender kiss on his cold lips that leaves him yearning for more when you pull away.

“Leaving so fast?” He asks when he sees that you're walking away. You might as well take responsibility for distracting him from his work. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have a small chit-chat with me?”

And since you have nothing else better to do, you decide to walk back to his desk, sitting across from him.

“You see, sweetheart, I have been reading these papers for the next meeting… All of these are government members who belong to the plague that must be eliminated from the world for the sake of it. They’re sinners.”

He leans back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Sinners tend to be selfish, only chasing their own tail in circles like a lost dog, doing anything for their own primal desires and then being hypocrites about it.”

A small laugh leaves his lips as he tilts his head to the side; Clearly, he knows this is the time when you're going to refute.

“People are not sinners forever...” You murmur while looking down at the papers, trying to give it a quick read, but Fyodor could perfectly hear your sweet voice in that slightly pouty tone.

Even as his partner you know you can’t change the way he thinks or stop him from reaching his vile goals, and as much as you don’t like seeing other people's lives slip away by Fyodor’s hands, you can’t do anything about it.

“Oh, love. I feel like if you were in my place, looking at all these faces and the stories behind them, you'd think otherwise.”

“No, Fedya.”

Fyodor's eyes widen at the way you said it, a stern tone that immediately gets his attention.

“Humans are fragile things, in body and mind.” You look at him straight into his eyes, not realizing how serious you sound by now, “And their mind can be corrupted by different situations they face during their short life…”

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow, carefully listening.

“That's how they turn “sinners”, by suffering through their life, but I think that they can be saved… not in the way you think, not by being exterminated… ending their lives is not the solution.”

“Then what do you think the solution is?”

Your eyes follow Fyodor as he stands up slowly, taking slow steps before standing behind you, “I'm all ears, dear.” The way he says it sounds menacing as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Sinners are capable of redemption… There are a lot of ways one can be ‘saved’, some people might choose God, and others might choose their family or friends, but what matters is the capacity one has to be able to get out from the dark pit of suffering to stop being selfish and sinful.”

You don't dare to look at Fyodor, afraid of what he might think, afraid he thinks your optimistic way of thinking is just dumb.

But then you hear his soft laugh as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger, “You're so cute.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and before you can speak, his lips are over yours.

Truth be told, he does take you very seriously, but his heart flutters each time you show that smart side of yours. Fyodor feels proud of having you by his side.

As he pulls away, he pecks your cheek again, “You surprise me every time, dear.” He walks back to his seat, still smiling softly at you.

“I'd like to keep talking to you but at the same time, I need to work… So why don't you help me choose who deserves to be my first victim to be saved?”

Dazai will come to visit you every day even if it's not necessarily for a therapy session.

He only goes to the Agency to see you— I imagine you have a small office inside the building of the Agency, so whenever Dazai is bored, he leaves the Agency's office and goes downstairs to visit you!

For him, it's a good thing that his s/o is also his therapist because he won't open up with anyone else but you. He would ask for you to run your fingers through his fluffy hair as he tells you how his past memories are still tormenting him sometimes.

Since you're a professional and know so much about people's minds, your conversations are always very deep which he's thankful for; knowing that someone understands him and gives him the comfort that he needs badly.

Dazai doesn't need any type of medication I think. Maybe he'll need to sleep better and eat properly but as long as you sleep with him and remind him to take his meals, he'll do as you said<3

-

I believe Fyodor doesn't want therapy, or pills, even if he needs them.

You know his physical and mental health are not the best, and he knows it too, but he doesn't care about it that much.

Maybe the roles would turn upside down? He would ask why you have such opinions and would discuss a lot of philosophical stuff about human beings and their lives and the way they socialize with other humans.

Fyodor would be the stubborn type; like, you would tell him to go out for a walk and get some fresh air because he's lacking vitamin D but he only chuckles and says that he doesn't need to, that he's perfectly fine.

A few hours later he would go out for a walk as you said and left a small bouquet of flowers he collected himself on your desk.

Also, he comes to ask for your opinion on important things before doing them!

-

Nikolai wouldn't take things seriously most of the time. He needs to make silly jokes and tease you as you try to advise him for his own good.

He would gladly take any pills you give him but you need to sit on his lap and give him the pill yourself, then kiss his forehead and call him a good boy. If not, he would refuse the medication.

Sometimes he feels very very down, like; he enters your office with a somber expression and needs to be cuddled as you try to help him solve his problem.

You make him feel happy even if it's just with a kiss on the cheek or words of affirmation<3

Definitely surprises you and teleports behind you as you're doing paperwork.

About his “freedom” thing… As much as you'd like to tell him that it's (almost) impossible, he won't stop trying to reach his goal and will keep on telling you with a big smile how he plans to achieve it. Well… At least he's still your Nikolai for now.

“My god… Darling, you have no idea how pretty you look like this…” One large hand grabbed a handful of your hair, slowly pulling you away from his cock, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your lips with his flushed tip “Hah… so gorgeous.” He slides a finger down your chin, tilting your head up to look straight at his purple eyes.

The faint light of the moonlight escaping through the curtains illuminates his features, letting you see the satisfied and lewd expression that feels odd on him. The usual stoic face he has most of the time is now being replaced with one of pure and absolute pleasure that only you have the chance to marvel at.

All the stress seems to vanish from him during these moments even if he is aware of how he's gradually falling deeper into this depravity, only to get a small moment of physical satisfaction.

With his free hand, Fyodor squeezes his shaft; pre-cum escapes from the slit and it stains your puffy lips, “Would you let me use that pretty mouth of yours, honey?”

Oh, how could you deny when he's using such a loving voice?

You nod, parting your lips as your eyes remain focused on his, obediently waiting for what's to come— The same hand that is still grabbing the back of your head suddenly forces you down, making you gag around his length. The tip of your nose nudging against the faint dark happy trail.

With your nails digging into his thighs, you can feel them tense as broken moans escape from his lips, but he's quick to cover them with the back of his hand.

It's difficult for you to move your tongue and even more difficult to breathe— Yet Fyodor seems to be enjoying the way you try to pull away, leaving you unable to breathe for a few seconds before pushing your head back, finally allowing air to fill your lungs again.

“My apologies.” He scoffed.

His thumb slides over your lower lip, forcing your mouth open and your tongue out, “Open wide, dear, take responsibility for what you do to me.”