Work Text:
“close,” fyodor murmured inside dazai’s bruised neck. the boy halted a gasp from letting out, but with futile efforts as he ended up moaning out an awkward sound of a choked whine. he couldn’t help it. the russian already came inside him three times for the night, but he had yet to get utterly desecrated as he suffered from the onslaught of arrhythmic thrusts, dawning his fate of getting filled up once again like a free-use whore belonging in sketchy streets.
“stupid fucking old sport and his stupid cock. are you dead set on— ah! — b-breaking me-—!!” as a punishment for his impudence, fyodor landed a heavy spank on dazai’s ass cheek.
“last warning. even my zaia was never this noisy. pets like you ought to know their place.” fyodor unceremoniously inserted two slick fingers in dazai’s empty asshole. like his pussy, it had been filled with just as much copious cum from their yet-to-end long night session. and ah, what a euphony it was to hear dazai scream and jolt in consequence against his lap.
it was not the scream he used to love coaxing out from dazai, no, not the dazai currently impaled to his dick. it was the real dazai, whose voice was less grating than a rebellious youth who bites more than what he can chew. the real dazai who hums in mellow when he rewards him with the most deserving touch. the real dazai who—
“like i said, s-stop — mm —mentioning him while we’re having sex, you filthy rat!” dazai attempted to bury his nails into fyodor’s back. he loathes that his sole competitor to gain fyodor’s full attention is his fucking deceased parallel from the other “real” (fyodor’s words) dimension. tears began to well up from his eyes, all from the amalgamation of heightened pleasure and harbored rage. he wanted fyodor to focus on him and only him. he is willing to eliminate all the obstacles between them. but whatever can he do to kill a man deader than the dead? heck, this zaia whom fyodor constantly speaks fondly of does not even exist in this world, and dazai refuses to acknowledge the premise of another world as real as where he was right now. he just couldn’t. not when fyodor was already here, balls deep, and just as desperate to keep him caged for all eternity.
dazai believed nothing is as tangible as this tightrope both of them tiptoe together across.
fyodor wiped the tears in dazai’s eyes as he relentlessly hammered into his pet’s now loose pussy. he then caressed dazai’s chestnut locks like he was consoling a crying child — the visage all the more so disoriented with the carnal situation they were in. next is a kiss. it was all enough to shut him up. the boy was never kissed many times before, and it became more reason for dazai to get obsessed with their swollen lips colliding that he’s always purred in delight regardless how grueling the sex could become.
when dazai looked down, doom instantly rushed down to his face as he witnessed the concerning protrusion in his belly. no way fyodor came so much already. he felt so fucking full, as if fyodor was planning to let him carry his babies. it was not a far-fetched deduction though, with all the instances fyodor had emptied his balls inside dazai’s snatch every single time. perhaps his only purpose of living was to be bred like he’s got no dignity to preserve anymore.
“darling, i’m coming again. we should get off together.”
“no, no. can’t come… no more…”
“oh, but you can. you’re close again, aren’t you?” fyodor emphasized with one slow thrust inside dazai’s tightening walls.
“dostoevsky, you wretched bastard. dying from... hngh ...overstimulation is not my preferred way to go off— OH FUCK, NOT THERE! AH AHN—♡”
fyodor pulled out his fingers from dazai’s ass and instantaneously rubbed them harshly against dazai’s swollen flaps. the speed was too unforgiving; dazai's mind was electrocuted with generous voltages as his eyes rolled into oblivion. it hurt so, so much. he might as well eat his words and ultimately succumb to the fucking.
“slow down, f-fyodor...hurts, it hurts, ah… i’mgonnacomegonnacome, gonna COME— MMPH!!!” fyodor once again clamped down dazai’s mouth with his own as he released inside him untethered. the vibration of dazai’s muffled cry from squirting his last orgasm for the night tingled his face, making him audibly groan against dazai’s skin. he was sure bloodied crescents were now branded on the plain of his back where the little mafioso had been clutching for his life throughout the whole round.
dazai’s mess wettened the entirety of fyodor’s thighs and legs, and a generous amount of fluid began to drip on the floor. when fyodor pulled out, he unconsciously sobbed from the excruciating sensitivity of being fucked into multiple positions in one continuous session. if he still had some remaining wits, he could have acknowledged the looming fate that he might not be able to walk with a correct posture for the following week.
with no dick corking dazai’s abused hole, thick loads of semen gushed out between their skins. dazai was semi-knocked out, face severely flushed as he leaned his head against fyodor’s shoulder, so he barely responded from the sensation save for an entire body shudder. meanwhile, the russian mustered enough strength to slightly lift dazai by the waist, and scooped out some cum from the brunette’s pussy using his free hand. he released dazai’s weight, gripped him by the chin, and shoved his mixed cum and sweat-covered fingers deep into his throat.
and dazai seemed to cry again — how beautiful was that for him?
“great job staying awake, unlike last time. you're becoming more like him. isn’t that wonderful, zaia?”