Bungou Stray Dogs x Male Reader Oneshots

Fyodor x Reader

Thanks @that_lazy_emo for the idea!

The club was full tonight.  Patrons slick with sweat and alcohol as they indulged in guilty pleasures.  Knives and pistols hid snug in vests and up skirts.  Tension was manipulated to feel like blissful adrenaline, and people were blind to drown in the illusion. 

It was an all too familiar scene for him but with luck y/n would be out of here quickly.  He glided through the crowd with all the fluidity of oil on water.  The time gap was shortening with each second.  He'd never stolen something as valuable as this little trinket before, surely not for someone as pristine as Fyodor. 

The man had seemed fully capable of handling things himself without a little retriever mutt to show him up.  But maybe that's all he was, a lap dog for the rat.  The cold dagger in his collared shirt sent chills of anticipation down his body.  The thrill of the steal settled into his nerves. 

The safe was supposedly protected in one of the back rooms used for various amounts of sins.  All he needed to do was sneak in while the security guards switched, break into the safe quickly, retrieve the jewel then disappear into the crowd like a ghost. 

The rooms came into view, intimidating to the weak hearted with all its evil promises.  Y/n swaggered with all his collected confidence to the farthest door to the left.  As predicted there were no guards stationed there.  A small metal key slid into his palm.  It entered with ease and turned with a satisfying click.  Y/n took one last look around before slipping into the room. 

He was already across the floor and removing a hideous portrait before the door clicked shut.  The gleam of metal revealed a safe installed directly into the wall.  A proud smirk and a few spins later the lock clattered onto the ground.  He was making excellent time already, everything was running a little too smoothly. 

A cautious look over his shoulder and the safe door was swung open with a metal creak.  Nimble hands shot into the dark hole on the hunt for a small box.  There was only one item in the safe that was retrieved by the hired thief.  Such a small little thing to go through such trouble for but y/n was sure Fyodor would be pleased with his success. 

And it was then that the alarms set off.  By the time the crimson lights flashed, he was already out the door.  Adrenaline gripped his senses to push faster despite the crowd of people unaware of his crimes.  The box had already slipped inside his coat with the dagger sliding into the treasure's previous place in his hand, a trade of beauty for danger.  It wouldn't be long before someone came for him if they weren't already in pursuit.  The glamour induced patrons didn't so much as bat an eye at his urgency, placing the excuse to a million other reasons than what it was. 

He burst out the front entrance, too obvious for his taste but with no other choice he sprinted down the street, the widest exhilarating smile across his face.  There was no catching him now like a cat slinking into the night. 

"Don't move or this bullet goes through your spine."  The gruff voice stopped the thief in his tracks, ending his jovial escape.  He didn't need to turn around to know there was a pistol aimed at his back and surely backup men. 

"You don't want to do this," y/n muttered, a pitiful heads up despite being something at least.  But the gunman disagreed without a full grasp of the situation he walked into, he wasn't aware of the sniper till it was too late.  The warning died along with the gunman's life.  As y/n had thought before, there was no catching him.  The rat needed his lap dog after all. 

He finally looked back to see a group of bodies left to bleed onto the empty street.  The box buried in his coat seemed to weigh him down more with the gory scene before his eyes.  He couldn't mourn them however, not truly with the promise of death they had seemed sworn to keep for him.  He had to make it back to Fyodor quickly before others ended up with the same unfortunate death.  No one would leave a scratch on him that night unless his client so wishes it.

~~~

"You were quick, pet.  Did you run into any trouble?"  The thick accent lulled y/n to his senses after a troublesome hour of scuttling through town.  He decided to ignore the nickname as he approached the Russian seated elegantly at the jeweled table. 

"Nothing much.  Your sniper took care of it," he mumbled somewhat grumpily.  He didn't wait to be invited to sit, instead plopping down tiredly onto the chair across from his client.  His hand dipped into his coat to retrieve the small seemingly insignificant box, pushing it across the crystal surface. 

"Fyodor, why would you send me for a job just to track me?"  The said man leaned back in mock thought, the thief watching the way his pale hand came up to stroke his face in idle speculation.  "Now you're just mocking me," y/n deadpanned with a frown. 

An amused chuckle echoed around the vast room, y/n tensing at the sound.  Fyodor leaned forward towards his lap dog, his fingers gently gripping the other's chin to look him in the eye.  He raised an eyebrow in teasing at the nervous gulp of the thief. 

"I want to protect my investments is all," the Russian cooed, slowly inching closer.  "Don't take it to heart, pet."  Y/n's flustered tension switched quickly to irritation at the nickname.  He smacked Fyodor's hand away with a sneer, quickly standing to glare down at his client. 

"Enough with the 'pet' stuff.  I'm still a port mafia member and in no way your property or your investment," he hissed, slamming his hands down on the table with a loud clatter.  "We're not even bound by a contract."  Fyodor only smiled, clearly entertained by the change in the game.  He slowly rose from his seat to face the port mafia member head on. 

"But we are bound by something, are we not?" he perused as he held up the stolen jewel between them to accentuate his point.  Y/n let out a huff but didn't deny it.  "I believe you can be loyal to your little gang and still be bound to me, little thief.  After all, you didn't think twice about accepting this job, knowing it was for my satisfaction." 

Y/n grit his teeth but still didn't respond knowing that it was all true.  Despite his irritation and embarrassment, he didn't mess with his clients.  With this particular investor in the port mafia, he wasn't keen on letting his gang down but with his pride on the line it was becoming difficult to do everything Fyodor said.  Not to mention a growing sense of unease with the fluttering in his chest whenever Fyodor stepped over his boundaries, touching him to make him tremble or mocking him just to see him flustered. 

"I'm just here to get the job done.  If I happen to 'satisfy' you while I'm at it then that's a bonus I hope to see in my paycheck," y/n stated matter-of-factly.  He gave a quick nod before turning to leave without another word. 

His footsteps echoed around the pristine room along with a harmonizing thud.  A hand reached for the thief's, fingers firmly intertwining with no hesitation.  Y/n looked over his shoulder with an expression of curiosity, his face erupting in heat at the contact.  No matter the complaints he made about his pride, he didn't mind the usual teasing pokes or flirtatious winks but he couldn't help but absolutely melt with the few times when he couldn't tell whether Fyodor was joking or not.  He often let himself imagine that the dark haired rat actually cared for the lap dog despite their often shared animosity. 

Y/n allowed his stare to travel over the now serious looking Fyodor.  He took in his slim build, messy hair, piercing purple eyes that looked too inviting, even the way his lips curved slightly into a frown. 

"I'm sorry if I've offended you in any way but can't you stay a little longer?" he asked with an undertone of pleading.  Y/n was taken by surprise, those strange flutters in his chest returning at the sight of Fyodor apologizing and pleading for him.  He thought it over a moment, secretly pleased with this turn of events in his night. 

"Are you asking as a client?" y/n questioned for clarification.  He decided to let Fyodor's answer make the choice of whether he left or stayed.  The Russian glanced at their connected hands with a look of pure greed that sent shivers down the other's back. 

"I'm asking as a person that's taken a peculiar interest in you."  A smirk stretched across the thief's mouth, his face an expression of pure mischief and the promise of trouble.  He tugged on Fyodor's hand, pulling him in closer to whisper in his ear. 

"Don't fuck this up.  You'll quickly find that your lap dog can still bite."  It was Fyodor's turn to tremble at the promise of revenge but he had no intention of abandoning his investment anytime soon.  Y/n pulled away slightly, now an innocent smile adorning his face.  "Also this better involve food cause I'm starving."