#Aarontaylorjohnson

[cowboybeepboop]

Hunted

"What are you doing to me, little one? You're driving me insane.."

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 4.5k 

Summary: Sergei finds you lost in the woods, comes to your rescue, and seduces you all in one day. 

Warnings: Mentions of being chased/harassed by men, being hunted, uses of “little one”, a size kink, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving)

a/n: Guys I’m so obsessed with Kraven omg, since I’m on break right now I’m grinding the fuck out of writing. also, I didn't proofread (per usual) I hope you all enjoy and send any requests you might have my way

You’re a little lost, well more than a little. Somehow you ended up being taken by a few strange men, and managed to get free but what good does that do if you’re lost, cold, alone, and limping in the Siberian forests? 

You drop down to rest, wrapping your arms around your body as the cool air assaults you. Trying to think of what to do next, while keeping in mind that there are three crazed men on the hunt for you. 

Kravinoff observes silently as he watches you drop to the ground, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep warm. His expression remains stoic, his eyes taking in every little detail about you. As he watches you shivering, he can't help but feel a small pang of...sympathy? No, that can't be right.

After a few moments of silent observation, Sergei finally breaks the silence, his voice gruff and blunt. "Lost, little one?"

You flinch at the sound of his voice, immediately reaching for a branch to attempt to defend yourself. "G-go away.." you murmur weakly, teeth chattering as you speak, your eyes trained on the floor. 

Kravinoff raises an eyebrow at your display, his lips twitching into a slight smirk as he sees you reaching for a branch to use as a weapon. 

He slowly takes a step closer, his heavy boots crunching in the snow as he does so. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? But that weak voice and shivering body are hardly intimidating."

"Please.." you murmur, eyes watery as you gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, reminiscent of something his younger brother would do. "Please don't hurt me.." 

Sergei's expression softens for a moment as he looks down at you, the puppy dog eyes tugging at a very small part of his heart that he's long since tried to bury. "Hurt you? You think I'm going to hurt you?"

He takes a few more steps towards you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in the sight of your shivering and shivering body. "You're trembling, little one. And that limp, you're hurt."

"It's not that bad, I can walk," you whisper, watching as he approaches you slowly. 

"Not that bad, hm?" Sergei lets out a scoff, his dark eyes flickering over your body. "You're shivering from the cold, and you're clearly hurt. You can barely stand, let alone walk."

He crouches down in front of you, his large frame towering over you. "Tell me, what's your name, little one?"

"My name is Y/N.. there's these guys, they're hunting me. I don't, I don't know what to do." Your expression is pleading as you weakly stand up, shakey voice matching the trembles of your body. 

Sergei's expression darkens at the mention of other men hunting you. He glances around, his eyes scanning the area like a predator watching for prey.

"Hunters, huh? And they're after you. Interesting." Sergei's eyes return to you, his hand instinctively going to rest on the handle of one of the knives holstered on his belt.

"Why are they hunting you? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," you lean toward him, seeking the warmth that's radiating from his body. "At least I don't think I did? All I remember was waking up in a tent, they said that we were going to play a game.. I-" you trail off, a small tear falling down your cheek. 

Sergei watches as you lean towards him, a small pang of sympathy shooting through him again when he notices the tear rolling down your cheek. He's not used to comforting people, but something about you triggers a protective instinct within him.

"A game... What kind of game, little one?" He asks, his voice gruff but surprisingly gentle. He gently reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder to steady you.

"He said they would hunt me.." you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as a whistle sounds through the air. You press your body to his, eyes wide with fear, "i.. think they're getting close." 

Sergei's expression hardens as he hears the whistle through the air, his hand instinctively tightening on the handle of his knife. He glances around once more, his senses on high alert.

"Shhh," he murmurs, his other hand gently reaching out to hold you closer to him. "Stay quiet. They won't find you."

He pulls you to his chest, his large frame shielding you partially from view as he scans the woods once more.

You bury your reddened face into his chest, breathing in his musk and seeking safety in his grasp. Your arms move to cling to his waist, holding yourself closer to him. 

Sergei's nostrils flare as you bury your face into his chest, the scent of your skin, mixed with the musk of the forest, filling his senses. He can feel your arms clinging to his waist, the feel of your body pressed against his stirring something deep within him. He slowly reaches up and rests his hand on the back of your head, gently holding you against him.

"Don't worry, little one," he murmurs gruffly, his eyes still scanning the woods. "You're safe with me." You nod against his chest, too tired to speak. 

Sergei can feel the exhaustion radiating off you, your weary body leaning heavily against him. His fingers gently brush through your hair in a small, comforting gesture.

"You're exhausted," he murmurs, his voice still gruff but softer than before. "Let's find somewhere we can rest and get you warmed up."

Sergei shifts ever so slightly, his large frame adjusting so he's able to lift you gently into his arms, cradling you like a child.

You gasp as he effortlessly picks you up, arms instinctively going to his neck. "Where will we go?" you murmur.

Sergi glances down at you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, and a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He enjoys the feel of you in his arms, the way your body fits snugly against his.

"Somewhere safe," he replies, his voice gruff. "Somewhere these 'hunters' won't find us."

Carefully, Sergei begins moving through the forest, his powerful legs carrying both of you through the deep snow with ease. You nuzzle your face against his shoulder, finding him comforting in the vast forest. 

As you nuzzle your face against his shoulder, Sergei can't help but notice how much he's enjoying the feel of you in his arms. Your warmth against his chest, the soft sound of your breathing, and the gentle feel of you nuzzling against him.

He continues to move through the forest, weaving through trees and navigating the deep snow like a natural tracker. Every now and then, he glances down at you, his eyes taking in your tired, but now tranquil face.

You drift to sleep in his arms, body going limp as he continues to trek toward his home. Bringing you closer and closer to a warm safe shelter. 

Sergei feels your body go limp in his arms, signaling that you've fallen asleep. His arms instinctively tighten their grip on you, holding you securely against his chest as he continues to trek through the snowy forest.

Each step brings you both closer to his home, a small cabin nestled deep in the forest, away from the chaos of the outside world. As he approaches the cabin, Sergei can't help but feel an odd sense of protectiveness over you.

He gently pushes open the door to his cabin and steps inside, careful not to wake you. The cabin is warm and cozy, illuminated by the soft glow of a fireplace in the corner.

Sergei carries you over to a large, comfortable armchair and carefully sets you down, ensuring you're settled and comfortable. He takes a moment to gaze down at you, his eyes roaming over your tired face as you sleep.

He sighs deeply, his hands resting on the arms of the chair as he contemplates what to do next. You stir slightly at the lack of his body against yours, your arms reach out, seeking him once more. 

As you stir and reach out for him, searching for the warmth of his body, Sergei can't help but smirk to himself. He's not used to being sought after like this, and it brings an odd feeling of satisfaction to him.

He steps closer, gently taking hold of your seeking hands and holding them in his own large, calloused ones.

"I'm right here, little one," he murmurs gruffly, his voice low so as not to startle you.

As the morning sunlight streams through the windows, bathing the cabin in a warm, golden light, you stir in the soft, comfortable embrace of the armchair.

Sergei, who had spent the night keeping watch by the fireplace, notices your movements and rises silently from his chair. He watches as you pull the soft cloth blanket up to cover your face, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

He takes a step closer, leaning against the back of the armchair, and speaks in a low, gruff voice. "Morning, little one."

"You never told me your name.." you murmur, sliding out of the chair and sleepily moving to his side. 

Sergei's eyes roam over your sleepy form as you move to stand beside him, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he hears your question.

"I suppose I didn't," he says gruffly, his eyes watching you with a mixture of amusement and something else, something he can't quite place.

He lifts a hand and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, before replying, "My name is Sergei. Sergei Kravinoff."

"Sergei.." You repeat, settling onto the ground next to him, basking in the heat of the flames.

As you say his name, a small shiver of satisfaction runs through Sergei's body. He can't remember the last time anyone has spoken his name with such soft, sweet lips.

He watches as you settle onto the floor next to him, your body seeking the warmth of the flames. He can't help but admire your small, fragile form, your skin flushed and weary but still so very beautiful.

He glances down at you, his voice still gruff but softer than usual. "You should eat something, little one. You must be hungry."

Your face lights up at the mention of food, your stomach growling as if on cue. "I am a little hungry.." 

A small, satisfied smile tugs at the corners of Sergei's lips as he watches your face light up at the mention of food, and hears your stomach growl in confirmation.

"Looks like that settles it," he says gruffly, pushing himself up off the floor. "I'll fix you something to eat. Stay there and warm up."

Without waiting for a reply, he strides over to the small kitchen in the cabin, starting to prepare a meal.

You turn to watch his movements, craving his company at your side once again. A feeling of heat rises in your stomach as you gulp, eyes glued to his muscular frame. 

Sergei can feel your eyes on him as he moves around the kitchen, his muscular frame easily handling the preparation of the simple meal. He can't help but detect a hint of something in your gaze, a heat that he's not sure he quite understands.

He glances over at you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze. "What is it, little one?" he asks gruffly, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and mild amusement.

Your cheeks flush a bright pink, causing you to shake your head. "Nothing.. it's nothing." you reply softly.

Sergei's smirk grows wider as he notices the bright pink flush on your cheeks, knowing that he's caused a reaction in you. He can't help but be captivated by the innocent, shy look on your face.

He lets out a gruff chuckle, returning to his task of preparing the meal. "It's not nothing," he says, his voice holding a hint of playfulness. "You're staring at me, little one. I can feel your gaze on me. What are you thinking?"

"You're just very big.." you whisper, shocked by the words coming from your mouth. Clenching the blanket tight around you, you carefully adjust your clothes, feeling your panties becoming wet.

Sergei's eyes widen slightly at your words, a soft chuckle escaping his lips at the innocent bluntness of your statement. He can't help but be amused by your shyness, your flushed cheeks, and the way your body fidgets under the blanket.

He turns to face you fully, his eyes roaming over your form, drinking in the sight of you. He can sense the change in you, the heat in your body, and he can't help but wonder if you're even aware of it. 

"Is that so?" he asks gruffly, his voice holding a hint of something else, something deeper.

You nod, mind wandering to.. other parts of him, and how big it might be. "Mhm.." you murmur, looking up at him as he brings you a plate of food.

As you nod and confirm his words, Sergei can't help but notice the way your eyes wander over his frame, lingering on certain parts of his anatomy. He knows what you're thinking, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

He approaches you, holding out the plate of food. As he does, his eyes lock onto yours, his voice gruff as he speaks again. "Eat up, little one. You need your strength."

"Thank you Sergei.." you smile up at him, taking the plate and beginning to take a few small bites, your mind still focused on him. 

Sergei watches as you take the plate and begin to eat, his gaze studying you intently. He notices the small, subtle things, the way your eyes wander over his form, the way your lips move as you chew.

A small, amused smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he watches you, his own thoughts wandering to the same subject as yours.

"You're welcome, little one," he grunts, his voice gruff and low. "Make sure you eat all of it. Can't have you wasting away on me."

"Yes sir," you murmur between bites. Comfortable silence fills the air as he takes a seat next to you, his shoulder lightly brushing yours.

As you finish your meal, the silence of the cabin is filled with a comfortable stillness. Sergei lowers himself down to sit beside you, taking a moment to admire the sight of you as you finish eating.

His shoulder lightly brushed yours, the contact sending a small shiver through his body. Despite his gruff and stoic exterior, he can't help but be drawn to you, your innocence and vulnerability stirring something deep within him.

"Feeling better now, little one?" he asks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.

"Much better," you grin, leaning against him, your hand falling to his lap. You're craving more, more of his touch, more of him, you just need him. 

As you lean against him and your hand falls to his lap, Sergei's body tenses momentarily, his breath catching in his chest. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, the slight weight of your hand on his thigh, and it awakening something within him.

He can't help but glance down at your hand, then back up at your face, a mix of surprise, desire, and a hint of hesitation in his gaze. "Little one..." he growls, his voice deep and hoarse.

"Yes, Sergei?" you breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip with desire. 

Sergei's eyes are fixated on your biting your lip, the sight sending a wave of heat through him. He can feel his body reacting to your closeness, to the desire in your voice.

He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, gruff whisper, "What are you doing to me, little one? You're driving me insane.."

You gasp as his voice sends shivers down your body, leaning closer to him you find a small amount of confidence. You slide your hand up his though, nearing the place you're most curious about. "Sergei.. I'm curious about something.."

As your hand slowly slides up his thigh, nearing a sensitive spot, Sergei's body tenses once more, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel the heat of your touch, the desire in your movements, and it's driving him wild.

He glances down at your hand, then back up at your face, his eyes dark and intense. "What is it, little one?" he growls, his voice thick with desire. "What are you curious about?"

"How big is it?" you gulp, looking up at him through your lashes as you settle between his legs. Almost salivating at the thought of seeing his cock.

As your words sink in, and your body moves between his legs, Sergei's breath hitches in his chest, a low growl escaping his lips. He can feel the heat in your body, the desire in your gaze, and it's driving him crazy.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and ravenous, as he responds in a low, guttural tone, "Are you sure you want to know, little one?"

"Mhm, I'm really curious," you whisper, hand sliding to the buckle of his belt and slowly maneuvering to remove it. "Is this okay?"

Sergei watches as your hand moves to his belt, slowly working to undo the buckle. Your touch is innocent yet filled with a desire that he can't deny.

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he contemplates your question. "You're very forward, little one," he says gruffly, his voice thick with a mix of desire and surprise. "But yes.. it's okay."

You slowly remove his garments, moving to free his hardness. Your body trembles in anticipation, desire coursing through you.

As you remove his garments, revealing his hardness, Sergei's breath hitches in his chest, his body trembling slightly as you bare him to your gaze.

He watches you, his eyes roaming over your face, studying the mix of desire and innocence in your expression. He can feel his own desire growing stronger by the second, a mixture of primal need and unexpected gentleness.

"Look at you..." he mutters gruffly, his voice thick with want. "You're so, so curious.."

Your hand wraps around his thick hard dick, eyes wide as you take in the sheer size of it. "I want to taste you," your gaze is focused on his length as you stick your tongue out, licking his tip slightly.

As you wrap your hand around his length, a low, guttural moan escapes his lips, his body tensing at the feel of your touch.

He watches as you lick his tip, your gaze fixed on his manhood, and it drives him crazy. The heat in your eyes, the desire in your movements, it's driving him to the edge.

"Is that so, little one?" he growls, his voice thick and strained. "You want to taste me, do you?"

You nod, lips wrapping around his throbbing cock. Your mouth is full of his manhood, eyes fluttering shut as you moan at the taste of his precum.

With a deep, shaky breath, Sergei allows you to continue, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the warmth of your mouth engulfs his cock. The sensation sends waves of pleasure through his body, his muscles tightening and his heart racing. 

His hands instinctively move to the back of your head, guiding your movements gently as you take him in deeper, your soft moans muffled by his flesh. The feeling of your wetness and the gentle suction as you work your mouth over him is almost too much to handle, and he has to fight the urge to thrust into you.

Sergei's eyes snap open as your eager mouth continues to explore him, his grip on the back of your head tightening slightly as he watches you with a mix of hunger and amazement. "You're a natural, little one," he grunts, his voice strained as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. 

His hips begin to move almost imperceptibly, matching the rhythm of your mouth. The warmth, the wetness, the way your tongue swirls around his head – it's all too much for him to handle. He can feel his orgasm building, the tension coiling in his stomach and balls, begging for release. But he doesn't want this to end yet. He wants more of you, all of you.

With a sudden urgency, he pulls you off his cock, panting heavily. "Not yet," he growls, his eyes burning with desire as he looks down at you. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you, his large frame looming over you protectively. 

His hand moves to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to reveal your soft, pale stomach. His lips follow the trail of his hand, kissing and nibbling gently, leaving a path of heat in their wake. 

You gasp and arch up into his touch, your own desires spiraling out of control. His rough hands begin to unbutton your pants, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly reveals your most intimate secrets.

As he unbuttons your pants, Sergei's eyes are dark with need, watching your every reaction with a predatory focus. 

He can feel the heat between your legs, smell the sweet scent of your arousal, and it's all he can do to not rip the rest of your clothes off in one swift move. But he holds back, enjoying the slow, methodical unveiling of your body.

He slides your pants down, his calloused hands brushing against the softness of your skin. His eyes are drawn to the small, lacy underwear you're wearing, the stark contrast to the ruggedness of the cabin and his own attire not lost on him. 

With a smirk, he hooks his fingers under the elastic and pulls them down, revealing your bare, shaven pussy.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. His eyes roam over the delicate folds of your sex, the sight of your wetness making his cock throb even more. He leans down and presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

You whimper at his gentle touch, your body quivering with anticipation. "Sergei," you breathe out his name like a prayer, your legs falling open wider to give him better access. You can't believe this is happening, but all you want is for him to keep going.

His mouth follows the path of his kisses, moving closer to your core. When he reaches your pussy, he lingers for a moment, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh before his tongue darts out to taste you. The sensation is electric, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through your body as he explores you with the same curiosity and hunger he had when you first touched him.

"Oh god," you moan, your hands fisting in the sheets as his tongue delves deeper into your wetness. He licks and sucks, his beard scraping gently against your thighs, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Your hips buck against his mouth, seeking more, begging for it.

Sergei growls in satisfaction, the sound vibrating against your clit, sending you spiraling closer to the edge. His hands move to grip your hips, holding you in place as he devours you, his tongue swirling and flicking with expert precision. You're lost in the feeling, your world narrowing down to the warmth of his mouth and the exquisite pleasure he's giving you.

And as your orgasm builds, he slows down, teasing you, making you beg for release. "Please," you whine, your voice desperate and needy.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust and something else, something that makes your stomach flip. "Please what, little one?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that resonates through your core.

"Please, make me cum," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a smirk, he goes back to work, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the precipice until, with one final, hard suck, you're tumbling over, your body shaking with the intensity of your climax. You cry out his name as waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

Sergei watches you come with a fierce satisfaction, his cock pulsing with his own need. He moves up your body, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself at your entrance. "Are you ready for me, little one?" he asks, his voice a gruff whisper.

You nod, your eyes glazed with passion as you reach up to pull him closer. "Yes," you pant, your body arching up to meet his. "I need you inside me."

And with that, he pushes in, filling you up with one long, slow stroke that has you gasping for air. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. He begins to move, his thrusts deep and measured, his gaze never leaving yours as he takes you, claiming you as his in this moment of raw, primal passion.

With a fierce growl, Sergei slams into you, his cock stretching your tight pussy as he takes what he's craved since the moment he laid eyes on you. The feeling of you, warm and wet around him, is indescribable, and he can't hold back any longer. 

He begins to pound into you, each stroke hitting just the right spot, making you scream out in ecstasy. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, your heels digging into his muscular back as you meet his rhythm, urging him to go faster, harder. 

The bed beneath you creaks and shakes with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming into the wall in a steady rhythm that matches the beating of your heart. The room is filled with the sounds of your passion, the slapping of skin on skin, the harsh breaths, and desperate moans that fill the air like a symphony of desire. 

Your nails dig into the smooth skin of his back, leaving swollen red marks on his tanned skin, your pussy clenching around him as he continues to thrust into you. With each move of his hips, you become more and more needy, gasping and moaning his name. 

Sergei’s movements stutter, his hips pushing flush against yours, his head digging into your g-spot. His thick cock swells inside of you as your grip around him, your body coaxing his orgasm out of him. 

He buries his face into your neck, moaning lowly as he fills you with his warmth. You arch up into him, spasming around his still-hard length. 

“Fuck, oh fuck…” you whine, eyes fluttering shut as he collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you to his chest. 

[moonlight-joy]

Prey in the Shadows

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: This intense tale of cat-and-mouse explores the thrill of fear and the balance of power between hunter and prey. Sergei’s relentless pursuit forces you to confront your own instincts and vulnerabilities, blending danger, trust, and the electric tension of his presence. As his lessons unfold, you’re left questioning whether this is a punishment, a game, or a deeper test of loyalty.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The streets are eerily quiet as you begin your walk home, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows. The cold night air nips at your skin, but what truly sends a chill down your spine is the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You can almost hear Sergei’s voice in your mind, low and laced with authority: "You should never break your promises, my prey."

The world around you sharpens—the rustling of leaves, the soft crunch of your footsteps, the distant hum of a car engine. Sergei’s training, his relentless hunting instincts, come flooding to mind. You know how he moves, silent and precise, like a ghost through the night. Every fiber of your being tells you to run, but to run would be to play directly into his game.

A twig snaps behind you. You whirl around, heart pounding, only to find empty darkness. Panic sets in as you realize Sergei is toying with you, allowing you to feel the vulnerability of prey in his sights.

“Keep moving,” his voice growls, deep and resonant, from somewhere in the shadows. “Let’s see if you can make it home.”

You force your legs to move, each step a battle against the icy grip of fear. You keep your eyes on the path ahead, scanning for any sign of movement, but Sergei is nowhere to be seen. A flicker of motion catches your eye—a shadow too fast to be anything but him. The streetlights above flicker as though they’re conspiring with him, casting fleeting glimpses of his presence.

“You can’t win this,” his voice whispers, closer now, impossibly close. “But you can try.”

Adrenaline surges through your veins. Against your better judgment, you start to run. The world blurs as you dash through the dark streets, your breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Every step echoes like a drumbeat, announcing your location to your pursuer.

And then, silence.

The absence of his voice, his steps, his presence is even more terrifying. You skid to a halt, heart hammering in your chest, and realize you’re no longer sure of the way home. The streetlights around you flicker and go dark, one by one, until you’re enveloped in shadow.

Then you hear it—soft, deliberate footsteps, circling you like a predator closing in on its prey.

“Lesson one,” Sergei’s voice growls, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Never let your guard down.”

You spin wildly, trying to locate him, but the darkness is absolute. A metallic scrape cuts through the silence, sharp and jarring, ahead of you. It sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, something flies past you—a blur—and crashes into a lamppost. The bulb explodes in a shower of sparks, plunging the street into deeper darkness.

“Lesson two,” Sergei murmurs, closer now. “Always know your surroundings.”

Your mind races, a cacophony of fear and Sergei’s relentless teachings. You move slowly, fighting every instinct to run, until his voice pierces through again, sharper and more commanding. “Run.”

You bolt. Your legs burn, your breath tears from your lungs, and the world narrows to the path ahead. But no matter how fast you go, you feel him closing in, his shadow stretching long and unrelenting behind you. You glance over your shoulder, and in that instant, you see him—tall, composed, and in complete control.

Sergei steps forward, blocking your path, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. His voice is calm but carries the weight of finality. “Lesson three. You can’t escape me.”

You freeze, every muscle locking in place as he approaches, his presence overwhelming. He grips your arm, firm but not cruel, and leans in, his voice a low whisper. “Do you understand now? Why you don’t walk alone? Why you don’t break your promises?”

You nod, unable to speak, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Sergei steps back, his gaze still fixed on you as he gestures toward the path. “Go. If you make it home without me catching you, we’ll call it even.”

For a moment, you don’t move, paralyzed by fear and the weight of his words. But then his eyes narrow, and his voice sharpens. “Run.”

You don’t wait to be told again. You sprint into the darkness, Sergei’s laughter trailing behind you, the game far from over.

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[aarontaylorjohnsonappreciation]

Aaron @ Kraven the Hunter London photo call

[corawithfanfiction]

Hi! Would you ever consider do anything that was Aaron Taylor Johnson x reader? (his celeb self I mean.) Maybe something like they’re working on a movie together (y/n is younger) and get to be friends and then something transpires between them? Ahh!!

Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Fem!Reader (Young Actress Reader - Request)

My Materialist

warning: claustrophobia, age difference, dirty language, nickname, divorce, coworker, action scene, car accident, creep, expectation.

summury: You're doing test shoots for action scenes with the lead of your new movie. You always thought you were like a sister to her until you find out that he is now a single man.

(2632 word)

Ask for permission before quoting or translating!

Hope you like it sweetie, I try the write as soon as possible :) @smallmarvel

It was one of the new weeks in your new project. The reading rehearsals had been over for a few days. But post-production had taken a long time. Or maybe it's because it's your biggest project and you've never experienced this kind of crew and work discipline before.

The cast had been in camp for months and all of them had been working out constantly to change their bodies for their roles. In the last days you have been working on your choreography. Your screen time would be about fifteen to twenty minutes, but the opportunity to work with such a cast made it all worthwhile.

You had two fight scenes, one big and one small. Although it wouldn't be right to call them both fights. Generally the bad guys were chasing you and our hero was there for you, but there were still moves you had to memorize.

When you first read the script, you thought that since it was an escape scene, it wouldn't challenge you and you would just run. But it wasn't like that. You had to jump, jump, sometimes crawl and even fight one-on-one. To make the scene more realistic, you were choreographed to fight for your life. At first you hated it, but once you learned the moves and started doing them much faster, you started to enjoy it.

Today was the day of the test shoot.

It was the first time you and the rest of the crew would act out the scenes together. Of course you had all met each other. You had rehearsed readings, the director had organized some nights for you all to get along better. One of them was a movie night where you watched some of the old crappy horror movies. It was a milestone day when you couldn't be afraid to laugh and you started to feel comfortable around each other as a team. Another night was a silent movie night. It was through events like these that you formed good friendships.

Aside from being friends with the crew and spending time together, today was the first day you were going to be in front of the camera. And it was for the fight scene. You were the last name in the cast and you were the least famous of them all. In direct proportion to that, you were not the main female character of the movie, but all your scenes were with the hero of the movie, the leading male character. Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who is going to save you from the bad guys in today's the test shoot.

Aaron was a very funny and kind man. He would come to your workouts to make you feel comfortable, give you feedback and often praise you on how well you were doing. In addition to these interactions, he was usually quiet on set. He would share a laugh with certain people, but he was very kind to the whole set and the staff. A true English gentleman.

When you arrived on set, you put on something comfortable. Leggings, a sports bra that covers your breasts and makes the whole action scene easier for you, and a loose t-shirt with the logo of your favorite band. Since it was a test shoot, you were wearing air force sneakers. You were determined to at least make this test as comfortable as possible until the main shoot.

Aaron came into the field right behind you. He was similarly dressed in comfortable clothes. He arrived in gray sweatpants and a basic t-shirt. They rocked back and forth with their hands in their pockets, talking to the director about the scene. You'd have to be blind not to notice the movement of his muscles with each sway…You reminded yourself that you were a married man and tried to focus on your scene.

After he finished talking to the director, he came up to you and said, “Good morning, baby.” He pulled you into a hug. You knew he gave you that nickname because of the age difference. You reminded yourself that there was nothing to be excited about and accepted his hug.

When he pulled back, with an energetic smile on his face, he asked, “Are you ready for today?” His smile must have been contagious because you were smiling back. “As much as I can,” you replied, shaking your legs - in a pose as if you were about to run a marathon.

His grin was still on his face. “We'll try not to push you too hard today, but we still want to go through all the scenes. But if there's any scene or movement that makes you uncomfortable, we'll definitely stop shooting,” he explained with great care. You had to admit that you were very lucky to be working with someone so kind and understanding. “Thanks Aaron, I really appreciate it, but I don't think we'll have any problems, we've been rehearsing these moves for weeks.” You reassured him. “Honey, the shot might feel different though, remember to stop if you have trouble.” He insisted. “I promise I will stop the scene if it feels uncomfortable,” you reassured him. All the while trying not to get hung up on the new nickname...

The first test shoot went quite well. The more complicated scene was next, but you decided to do it tomorrow. Or rather your director decided so. This decision was made because he wanted to shoot tomorrow with full make-up and clothes. Because it is necessary to decide whether the costumes in the movie will cause any problems in the scene and choreography and what precautions should be taken if necessary. So tomorrow you will enter the set as if you are shooting the first scene of the movie. Lights, camera, makeup, hair, costume… Everything you can think of will be prepared. To be honest, you're very excited about it.

But this was tomorrow's subject, today's subject and a new movie night. The leading lady of your movie had invited everyone who was doing a test shoot today to a movie night at her house because her house was quite close to the set.

You decided to change at the set before going back to the hotel and go with Aaron. Because he had arrived by car and you didn't want to waste time looking for a taxi.

The ride was peacefully silent until the sound of Aaron's cell phone connected to the car filled the air. “Excuse me, this is important. If you don't mind-” As soon as I saw the word lawyer appear on the screen, I said, ”No, no, please. I don't mind at all.”

When he picked up the phone, the loud, booming voice of the lawyer on the other end filled the car. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?” Aaron's fingers were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. His grip on the steering wheel was tighter than it had been since he'd called the lawyer. “Please give me some good news Kev,” his lawyer, Kev - you probably think it was Kevin - noticed Aaron's nervousness and started to chuckle. “Relax man, you're a single man now. Sam accepted the deal and signed all the papers. Congratulations man, enjoy your new life.” Aaron let out a deep breath at the sound of the phone hanging up. “I'm sorry this is really-” before you could finish the sentence Aaron's laughter filled the car and you heard him say something like 'oh shit' but you didn't dwell on it. His happiness was contagious and the awkward silence in the car was gone.

You couldn't say the same about movie night, though. They had chosen a really terrible movie this time and you were constantly screaming and disturbing the whole crew. One or two people who were really enjoying the movie were a bit annoyed by this, but the crew was having a lot of fun with your reactions.

When the lead role was finally placed alive in the coffin, you felt your breath catch in your throat. “I think I-” the incoherent words came out so quietly that no one even realized you were about to have an attack of claustrophobia. As soon as you started to fidget on the couch, an arm grabbed you around the waist and pulled you towards him. You couldn't see who it was in the dark room. With one hand still on your waist, he grabbed your neck with his free hand and held you against his chest. You immediately inhaled the familiar scent. You relaxed yourself in the safety of the warmth. “Shh, calm down doll, I'm here.” His low voice and the sound of him moving around your waist were enough to calm your nerves. But his lips barely touching your ear sent a shiver down your spine. You were about to remind yourself that this was wrong when you remembered that he was now a single man.

When you arrived on set, you went straight to your trailer for makeup. While you were lost in the memories of yesterday, your makeup was finished and your hair was being done.

Shortly after the movie ended, you and Aaron said goodbye to your friends and left. You were staying in the same hotel, so you went on the car ride together again. He made fun of you a little during the ride and finally you agreed to watch a comedy movie together. When you arrived at the hotel, he insisted on escorting you to your room even though your rooms were not on the same floor.

After opening the door to your room, you wished each other good night. Before you parted, you shared another hug. It was the longest hug you had ever shared. Sure, it was a minute hug, but it usually lasted no more than a few seconds and no, every time you hugged Aaron you didn't calculate how long it lasted. “Good night, baby,” he whispered in your ear as his hand circled your back. Then he left after leaving a vague kiss on your burn.

While your hair was being done, you were drowning in memories. You told yourself you were exaggerating, after all, he always called you baby. You were like his little brother, that's what you had been telling yourself for weeks, except you didn't know then that he was about to get divorced and that he was now a single man. Yes, there was an age difference, but it wasn't twenty years. You were just a couple years younger.

You came out of your daydream with Aaron's voice. “Hello baby,” he winked at your image in the mirror. ‘Good morning Aaron,’ you smiled. When you were called from inside to put on your costumes, you waved “See you in a minute” and headed towards the cabin. After changing your clothes, you took one last look at your image in the mirror and went to the set area. It wasn't a superhero movie so there were no weird tights and uncomfortable costumes. It was a chase scene where you would be chased by the 'bad guys' after you left work and then it would take place on the streets of the city. He was wearing tight fabric pants, a white shirt and stilettos. When the scene first started you would run in heels. Then you could switch to sneakers because they would not be visible in the camera angles. But neither the shoes nor the shirt made you unhappy. The only thing that bothered you was the lacy bra. You were looking for the comfort of your sports bra from the day before.

On the director's orders, you started the test shoot. You came out of your model building, realized you were being followed while walking down the street and jumped into the first taxi you saw. The team chasing you rear-ends your taxi with the car they are driving and you get stuck in the vehicle. At this moment, Aaron arrives and performs the fight scene with the men chasing you. After he rescues you from your trapped position, you take him by the hand and run together. At this point you were planning to change your shoes but you didn't want to stop shooting and you wondered how long you could go on.

After all, it was a test shoot. If you failed, you wouldn't try something like this next time. As you ran hand in hand, your heel caught on some fake stones. As Aaron checked you were okay, you gave him a sign that you could continue. As you continued your scene, you realized that the shoe was hurting you now. And the more you stepped, the more it hurt. But you were still shooting and you didn't want to give up on the first try.

You squeezed the hand that Aaron was holding. Immediately he turned to you and a low whimper of “Aaron,” escaped your lips. He immediately checked you with his eyes and tried to figure out what was wrong. “I don't think I can go on in these heels much longer,” As he was about to signal the director to stop the scene, he shook his hand once more and said, “Please don't stop the scene, we are almost finished. I don't want it to be cut because of me.” As you were quickly looking for a solution, the camera was coming towards you from the backstage area.

As you wondered what to do, you felt yourself being swept off your feet. As you let out a little scream of surprise, you could tell that your director was enjoying the moment and was pleased with the image that was being captured on camera. Aaron embraced you bridal style. And he was running towards the area where your final scene would take place. “What are you doing!” you whispered after your astonishment had subsided a little. “I couldn't let you writhe in pain Y/N,” she said, giving you an angry look. “Oh, I thought you would enjoy watching me writhe in pain…” you snapped.

When you got to where you needed to be, he took you off his lap and you did the moves you had memorized for your scene. With the fake explosion planned on the set, you ducked down and crawled together to where you were supposed to hide. The camera went back to filming the extras fighting. You had time to lie down for a few minutes.

You tried to forget the pain in your feet as you lay on your back where you were crawling. You were a little stressed by the narrow space you were in, but your breathing was regular.

As the shouting and explosions continued in the background, Aaron crawled to where you were. Since you had decided to lie on your back, he was now standing over you, leaning on his elbows. He never took his eyes off your eyes for a moment. “I enjoy you squirming Y/N” he said, and you realized that he had returned to the previous conversation. “But I'll make sure it won't be in pain.” Your breath began to betray you as his gaze slid to your lips. He leaned in even more, closing the distance between you a little more. “But I will also show you that we are away from the cameras,” his words sent a shiver down your spine and a warmth to your core.

He immediately noticed when you involuntarily squeezed your legs together. He leaned down until his lips touched your earlobe before leaving his spot for his scene. “I knew you were made for me, baby.” He said. And he left his location to continue shooting. Leaving you there to daydream with all your wetness and anticipation.

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[alwayssevereyouth]

[kindaskimpy]

[auroracalisto]

stay outta trouble, yeah?

tangerine x southern!reader, 3.7k words summary: he's taken by their southern accent, much like they're taken by his british one. color him intrigued, because why not? he'll be getting them to safety as soon as he can get away from the fight--or rather, telling them to get to safety. a/n: before you read the rest... there are a few lines i took from the movie to keep part of the plot alive. and then it goes haywire... anyway. listen i was just thinking about how incredible it would be to talk to tangerine and not actually hide my personal accent. here you go, pookies. (i'm from west virginia if that helps you). i've also never been farther than türkiye, so my knowledge of what it's like to travel to japan is very limited. pardon my inaccuracies even though i only talk about it for like... .2 seconds, at most. tw: major canon divergence, talks of blood, wounds, cursing, etc.

It'd been a long few days in Tokyo. Traveling for your own enjoyment was always an incredible thing, but good lord, was it exhausting.

The flight, which was non-stop from the Washington Dulles Airport, thank goodness, was nearly sixteen hours. No connecting flights, no dealing with confusing and unfamiliar airports. But just the flight itself was enough to send your sleeping pattern to all kinds of craziness. Don't even mention the fact that you had to drive to the airport, which took several hours just to get there...

Wasn't the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

Travel was a luxury so many never had the opportunity to experience. When you had the chance to go to Japan, you took it. It was practically a dream vacation, despite how exhausting it truly was.

You'd come back to Tokyo after a few days in Nagoya, the second to last stop on this bullet train, maybe a quick day trip to Kyoto after, but time was of the essence. You may not have planned every little detail for this trip of a lifetime, but you had a good idea as to what you were going to do.

The bullet train would be at your stop in nearly two hours. That was plenty of time to take a nap and probably figure out what you'll do in Nagoya after finding your planned accommodations.

You found a seat in the "quiet" car, almost giddy to know that there was a car specifically for that. Being from the southern United States, the only actual train you could recall was the Amtrak Trains, but even then, you didn't know as much as you could have about them.

You kept your backpack close to you, trying to find your earbuds so you could have them before you actually sit down.

As you walked, absentmindedly, of course, you bump into a rather tall and, might I add, breathtaking man with one of those 80s' mustaches—like the guy from that one season of American Horror Story. It rather suited him, but that's not what you were thinking as the words quickly spilled from your mouth:

"I'm so sorry," you said, southern drawl instantaneous. "Wasn't watching where I was goin'."

The man looked down at you, blue eyes curiously catching yours. He smiled, and you could feel your heart melt within you. Or maybe your lungs. It seemed hard to breathe for a moment.

"No worries, love," he said, a very British accent joining his words. He scrunched his nose a bit and moved out of your way, while the man behind him muttered something under his breath. "No harm done."

You return his smile, although hesitantly. God, was he gorgeous. But that was beside the point. You moved around him, knowing you probably looked like a mess—you had only spent two nights in Tokyo, and they weren't very restful. Skincare could only do so much to make you look awake and not like you've risen from the dead just hours prior.

You choose a seat nearby where the British man and his two friends were sitting, putting your backpack on the table just in front of you. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, making sure you still had your charger in the pack, before you set up your earbuds and your music.

Your eyes flickered over to the British man, not saying anything as you opened your preferred playlist. He briefly glanced back at you and sent a rather cheeky smile before he looked back to the man in front of him.

"Fuckin' hell, mate," Lemon said as he looked at his brother. The man had made him move just so he could have an eye on the American who bumped into him. "Go and talk to ‘em, yeah? Leave me out of it."

Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Fuck off," he said. "We gotta job, yeah? Speakin' of." He stopped and looked towards the White Death's son, blinking slowly for a moment. "You gonna tell us much else or are you keepin' us in the dark?"

The Son mumbled something under his breath, tiredly looking out the window. He didn't know why he was here, other than the two brothers saying they were hired by his dad to get him to safety.

Right. Safety. What a joke.

"Right, so," Tangerine began. "Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside. And I plan on completin' my job and keeping..."

Tangerine looked at his brother, narrowing his eyes. "Lemon."

Lemon looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Where's the briefcase?"

"Oh, I stashed it."

Tangerine stared at him in admonishment for a bit longer than necessary. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."

"We got his son. That was our job."

"Our job was to come back with his son and his 10 million." Tangerine groaned softly and looked out of the window, sucking in a breath. "Three words describe our situation right now. Do you know what they are?"

"Sure do," said Lemon. He held up a hand and counted them off as he spoke: "Saved his son."

"Motherfucker," Tangerine blurted. He went on his spiel about the White Death, which seemed to be quite imperative as Lemon hadn't read the email he forwarded to him. Of course he hadn't—when did he ever? Why did he bother?

"He asked for pros who wouldn't fuck up," Tangerine said. "Three words, Lemon. We are..."

"Fucked." They say the words together, and if it had been another time, perhaps just hours prior, it would have been fun. Not this time. No, this time, they knew they were in deep shit.

They needed to get that suitcase and quick.

They returned to the Son only for him to be... well, let's put it frankly, bleeding from his eye-sockets and mouth, and so very dead.

"Well, shit," Tangerine sucked in a breath as he looked at the boy who had called him a liability only moments earlier.

The two trained assassins set to work on making it look like he was merely sleeping, even going as far as giving him Momonga glasses. You never know.

Tangerine looked at Lemon, frowning deeply. "We need t' find that briefcase," he said.

"Right," Lemon returned, staring at the Son for a moment before he looked up at Tangerine, nodding. "Right. Phone's on me. See if that American you ran into saw anything. Never know, yeah?"

Tangerine narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the object of his curiosity. "Hm. Go, Lemon. You see the case, deal with whoever has it."

"All right, how do I do that? Talk to him, or, like, talk to him?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy's now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!"

Lemon scoffed and left his side, going down the opposite side of the train.

"He means kill him. Of course he does."

Tangerine took one last look to the boy before he made his way to you, just a few seats down. He saw that you were asleep—surely, if you had been awake, you would've said something, right? Right. He's assuming, anyway. He keeps walking, knowing that he's got to find this briefcase and fast or else he and Lemon may not get a chance to even think about which arm they'd rather have cut off.

About twenty minutes into your restless nap, there's a loud noise blaring in your earbuds, and you jolt awake, grabbing onto your phone. You paused it, heart pounding in your chest.

"Damn," you cursed, knowing it was only from the song and nothing more. This song was notorious for loud noises. You take out your earbuds, a soft groan escaping you. Might as well stretch your legs and use the restroom since you're awake. It didn't seem like sleep was going to come easy on this train.

A voice came over the intercom, saying something about stopping momentarily, but you didn't catch the name of the station.

You stood and stretched, looking towards where the British man had been. He's not there, and neither is his one friend, but the other is there, sleeping. He's got the strangest glasses on, but you say nothing of it.

"Bathroom," you mutter under your breath, looking over your shoulder. You see a sign and follow it, taking your phone with you just in case.

You're quick, doing your business and washing your hands all under two minutes. Must be a record—the airplane bathrooms are so much more different than this.

You go to leave and open the door, and once again, you're not paying attention. You nearly bump into the tall, handsome British man, but this time, he is paying attention.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, a soft huff escaping him. "Watch yourself, love," he said, a playful smile on his lips (like he's not currently in one of the most stressful situations he's ever been in). "You're gonna get yourself hurt, now, aren't ya?"

Wide eyed, you looked up at him. "Shit, I'm sorry," you said. "It's—hell, I can't even give you a good excuse, but I didn't mean to."

"Nah, you're alright, love, just watch yourself for me, yeah?"

He let go of your shoulders, and you almost find yourself missing the touch.

"Go back to your seat, yeah? Keep an eye out for anyone weird for me."

You blinked slowly but nodded anyway. "Yeah, sure," you said. "You—"

But before you can continue, he sees something in the corner of his eye—either that or he hears something. You're not really sure. He flashes you a soft smile before he walked past you, clearly on a mission.

You let out a soft sigh and walk back to your seat, sitting down quietly.

As you get there, the British man's friend is back, and with another man—you don't catch their conversation, but whatever it is is rather heated. You simply put your earbuds back in and let your head fall back, unable to stop your eyes from fluttering shut. There's a few noises, but the sleep is far too good to come out of. At least, for now it is.

At some point, you feel someone shaking you awake. You quickly open your eyes, seeing the British man sitting across from you. He's got a few cuts on his face—not something he had before. You sat up and check your phone, eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you—"

You'd only been asleep for another twenty minutes.

"You're cute, love," he said, grabbing your phone from you.

"Hey—"

He held up a finger to you and quickly typed in a text message to his own phone. When he heard the buzz, he handed your phone back to you.

"Where's your stop, hm?"

"Nagoya," you answered. "Why?"

"Get off sooner, yeah?"

"What?"

He gave you a cheeky smile. "Get off sooner, love," he said. "Conductor must've missed you cuz you were sleepin', but he was sayin' that everyone needs to get off before Nagoya. Somethin' about the train needed worked on."

You blinked slowly. Were you still sleeping? You felt like you were. "Why the hell would they do that for? That don't even make sense—"

"Love, do it," he said, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. "Get off on the next stop, yeah? I'll even give you the money for another ticket or somethin' if you need it."

You shook your head. "I can get another ticket, I just—"

There was something about the man that screamed danger, but no where did it scream liar. At least if he was a liar, maybe it was for good reason. Your gut feeling had been pretty good in the past, warning you against several things that could've gone terribly. Perhaps this was the Universe screaming at you to listen to it.

"Okay. I got the money. I'll just... I'll get off at the next stop."

He smiled softly at you. "Good. I'll be seein' you then, yeah? Keep yourself outta trouble."

He stood up, giving you a soft wink, before he left you in the quiet car.

You didn't see him again for the rest of the train ride, but you did listen to him. You got off at the next train stop and bought a new ticket, wondering if the cuts on his face had anything to do with his request.

It was a pretty nice warning, as crazy as that shit was.

Waiting for the next train, which would be there only momentarily, you pull out your phone. The only thing he had typed to his number was simple: Tangerine.

Was that codename for something? The fuck did fruit have to do with anything?

Nagoya, Japan.

A beautiful city with equally beautiful architecture (you'd be sure to visit the castle and the shrine after you finished exploring the city on your own terms).

You hadn't gotten a text from the handsome British man, but it didn't really bother you much. You didn't know him—just nearly ran into him a handful of times before he told you to get off the train.

Two days after the train ride to Nagoya, you find yourself on the streets, following your phone's GPS as best as you could to get to the castle. You should have just waved down a taxi cab, but you also wanted to experience the walk. That, in itself, was just as important as the journey over. Besides, your phone said only five minutes, but it seemed like it was re-routing and doing the exact opposite of being an accurate GPS.

You curse under your breath and go to type in another address in an attempt to see if it was just the castle address that was making your GPS wonky when you heard a familiar voice—you felt a familiar hand grab onto your shoulder.

"Be careful, love," the British man said, keeping you in your spot. You looked up—you're not even about to walk into anything, this time. You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, hell," you blurted, wide eyed. "What the hell happened to you? Are you—" You pause, mouth gaped open as you look on in surprise. His friend, and that one long haired blonde guy, stand nearby. The one leaned up against the wall of a supermarket, while the other runs a hand through his blonde locks.

You looked up at him, lips parted. "Is that why you told me to get off the train?"

He gave you a pained smile. "Smart, love," he said.

There's a few people that pass by, mumbling about the sight of the rather bloodied and injured men.

"Shit," you said. "You—did you just come to Nagoya in hopes I'd still be here? What if I had been in Kyoto?"

"Guess some luck's on my side, then," he said.

"My—hell, come on, I've got a hotel room," you said. "You lot look like you've been to hell and back."

"Somethin' like that," the British man said.

"Shit," you mumbled once more, putting your hotel name back into your GPS. You had just come from there, but just in case, you didn't want to mess anything up. Especially not now. "Shit, dude, I don't even know your name—"

"Tangerine," he interrupted.

You blinked slowly as you began to walk. His friends follow behind.

"Like the fruit?" you question.

His friend snorted from behind the two of you. "Yeah, love, like the fruit."

You shrugged. "Codename?"

"Smart," Tangerine repeated, giving you a cheeky smile.

For someone who looked like he was in an immense amount of pain, he was sure cheerful.

You led them up to your hotel room, where the blonde immediately goes to the bathroom, running water in the sink and using it and a towel to try and clean some of the blood from his face.

Tangerine and the other, whom you now know as Lemon, sit on separate sides of the room—Lemon sits at the table and groans at the action, a hand on his side, while Tangerine sits on the edge of the bed.

There goes your plans to see the Nagoya Castle, but hell, this didn't seem like it would be anything you'd wanna miss out on. How often do you get three men in your hotel room like this?

Ah, fuck, scratch that—how often do you get a hot British man looking at you like that regardless of how beat up he currently looked?

You bit your lip and sit your phone on the dresser. "I, uh, my friend gave me a little kit of medicine and things before I left," you said, going to your open suitcase and pulling out a black bag. "Has like, bandaids and ibuprofen. Tums, maybe. I didn't even look to be honest."

You hand the bag to him.

Tangerine snorted softly, taking the bag from you and opening it up. You watch, seeing the scabs on his knuckles.

"Damn, what the hell happened to y'all?"

Tangerine glanced up at you, a small smile quirking on his lips. "All in due time," he said. "Don't think it's anything I wanna drag you into just yet."

You pursed your lips.

"Fuck," Tangerine mumbled. "This whole thing has been fuckin' bullocks," he said as he pulled out a couple of things from the kit.

"You can say that again," Lemon said, scoffing softly.

Tangerine tossed him a bottle of pain killers before he, himself, picked up a small bottle of antiseptic. "Be a doll and grab me a washcloth, yeah?"

You do as you're asked, moving past the blonde in the bathroom. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he seemed like he was doing far better than the other two.

You brought back the washcloth for Tangerine. "Can I help?"

"Nah, love, I'll be fine. Not the first time."

You grimaced. "Sounds painful."

"C'est la vie," Lemon said from where he sat, taking the unopened complementary water from the table and using it to take the pain killers. "You're a life saver, love."

"Hmm," you hummed, frowning softly as you looked at Tangerine.

He glanced up at you as he cleaned his knuckles. He had plenty of other places to clean, of course, but the idea of moving from his spot on the bed sounded like hell. His abdomen was screaming at him for just breathing.

"I never got your name," Tangerine softly said.

"Yeah," Lemon interjected. "Been callin' you his little American this whole time. Don't let him lie to you."

Tangerine blanched, glaring over at Lemon, before he looked up at you. "Maybe," he said. "Don't listen to him. He's a little shit-stirrer."

You smiled a bit. He's endearing if not... unconventional in his methods. Whatever that meant. You'd learn soon enough, it seemed.

You gave him your name.

He repeated it, and it was almost like heaven pouring from his lips as he spoke.

God, you'd have a hell of a time trying to explain this back home.

Tangerine snorted softly and finished cleaning up his knuckles—just on the one hand, though. He still had so much to get through.

"Must've made quite an impression if you come to Nagoya just to find me," you blurted, taking the bottle of antiseptic and the cloth from him. He didn't protest. He simply watched as you wet the other side of the cloth and took his hand in your own to clean his knuckles.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? The accent got me."

You blinked slowly, eyes flickering to his. "The accent?"

"Oh, yeah, love," he said. "Ladybug in there is an American, but you? It's like a whole other breed of American. I don't know if I can get enough of it."

Lemon scoffed and tossed the bottle of painkillers to his brother. "Stop flirting and let them clean your hand."

Tangerine rolled his eyes, watching your hands as they moved against his wounds.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"Sorry? For what?"

"For not having anything to really help you," you said. "I'm sure it woulda helped if I had a first aid kit or somethin'."

He raised an eyebrow. "Think you would've been insane for havin' a first aid kit when you're traveling all alone," he said. "Who woulda thought you'd run into little ol' me?"

"Little ol' you, hm?"

Tangerine's soft smile is unmistakable, but you make no mention of it. You let go of his hand and he examined it, letting out a soft hum. You did well enough, he supposed.

Tangerine let out a soft groan as a pain rippled through his abdomen. He laid back on the bed without another word, a hand resting on his body. This would be a hell of a pain to heal, but he was sure it would happen soon enough.

"Sorry for barging in on you like that, love," Lemon spoke up. He drew your attention away from Tangerine. "Tangerine over there kept quippin' on and on 'bout how he just had to see you again. Thought he was a broken record or some shit with how often he said it."

The handsome man in front of you didn't even object this time. He just went with it.

"Right, yeah, and what were you sayin'? Hope they have a nice hotel room that fits all us, yeah?"

"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "Don't be a prick."

Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Lemon—"

"—anyway," Lemon interjected. "We'll be out of your hair as soon as we possibly can. Don't want to outstay our welcome, and I'm sure you've got plans, hm?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"—we won't stay long, promise."

"No, I—I mean I do have plans, but you can stay as long as you need to."

Tangerine snorted softly and glanced at you from where he laid on his bed. "You're rather trusting, aren't you?"

You blinked slowly. "Well—"

"—be careful, love," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "You should really watch yourself, before you get yourself into trouble."

You parted your lips, and the words escaped you before you even thought to stop them: "Think I'm a bit too late for all that."

[mossi-dreams]

nothing itches my brain better than the new angle of this scene where you can see the visible scarring on his back like-

idk i fear continuity when it comes to injuries is sooo important to me. this movie is gonna do irreparable damage to me

[j23r23]

Ooo would this be an okay request?

Where Tangerine is married to an innocent civilian who has no idea that him and his brother are hitmen, like they’ve been married for a few years but somehow Tangerine and lemon have managed to keep it a secret from her… Imagine her shock when she finds out both her hubby (the love of her life) and her brother in law are both assassins, she’d be sooo scared and upset at the same time because she was lied to and the way she finds out they’re assassins is probably in a scary and traumatic way?

No worries if not!!💜💜💜 Ty!

Hello sweetheart, sorry for taking so long. I finally managed to find some time. I do hope you enjoy and that its to your liking. Was fun writing for someone =)

Happy wife, happy life?

Tangerine x fem!reader

Angst

Blood

If there is anything else to mention let me know!

The morning unfolded quietly, sunlight creeping through the curtains of your modest flat in Notting Hill. The soft clatter of pans and the low hum of your voice filled the kitchen as you whisked eggs, the warm smell of butter and spices mingling in the air. From the hallway, Tangerine’s voice filtered in, smooth but edged with irritation as he spoke sharply into his phone.

You tilted your head toward the sound, lips twitching in a small smile. Always with Lemon, you mused. His brother was a constant in your lives, part of the deal from the moment you and Tangerine became serious. Lemon’s easy charm and Tangerine’s blunt wit were two halves of the same coin, a bond so unshakable it made their squabbles oddly endearing.

“Yeah, I’m done talkin’,” Tangerine said firmly, the sharp click of his phone hanging up punctuating his words. When he appeared in the doorway, his presence filled the room. His dark hair was slicked back in his usual style, the rolled sleeves of his crisp shirt revealing the ink etched on his arms.

“What’s cookin’, love?” he asked, stepping behind you and slipping his arms around your waist. He pressed a warm kiss to your cheek, his stubble grazing your skin.

“Breakfast,” you replied, sliding the eggs onto a plate with a faint grin. “Your favorite, if you promise to stop scowling. Honestly, what could you and Lemon possibly argue about at this hour?”

“Business,” he said without missing a beat, his answer too practiced to invite questions. Before you could pry, his gaze dropped to the plate in your hands, and he changed the subject. “This looks bloody fantastic. You spoil me, you know that?”

It was moments like these that made you feel like you were living a dream. Tangerine—intense, magnetic, and wholly yours—was everything you’d ever wanted. He wasn’t perfect, though. There was the occasional late-night call that dragged him out of bed, the bruises he waved off as “work hazards,” the way he dodged your questions about his job with charm and a clever quip.

But you trusted him. You loved him.

The first hint that something was wrong came that afternoon. You’d been cleaning out the basement—a long-overdue task you’d been putting off for weeks—when your hand brushed against something unfamiliar. Pushed behind a row of coats and stacked boxes was a sleek black case, its smooth surface and pristine edges starkly out of place among your other belongings.

You paused, unease prickling at your senses. Your fingers hovered over the latches, torn between leaving it alone and giving in to your growing curiosity. Finally, you give in.

The case clicked open.

Your stomach dropped.

Inside was a meticulously organized array of weapons. Pistols, knives and other tools you couldn’t even name, each snugly fitted in custom foam compartments. The sight of them sent your heart racing, a cold sweat prickling at the back of your neck.

You slammed the case shut with shaking hands, breath coming in shallow gasps. This wasn’t just some random find. This belonged to Tangerine—it had to. What reason could he possibly have for keeping something like this?

When Tangerine came home that evening, you still haven’t found your footing. Your stomach churned as you waited, rehearsing a hundred ways to confront him, each one unraveling before you could settle on the right words.

The sound of his key in the door made you jump. You sat frozen on the couch as he walked in, the usual swagger in his step. His sharp features softened the moment he saw you, and his lips curved into a faint smile.

“Hello, love,” he said, tossing his coat onto a chair before making his way over. He bent to kiss your forehead, the scent of his cologne familiar and almost comforting. “Long day. Missed you.”

Your hands hovered at his chest, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away. Your throat tightened around the words you wanted to say, the questions that had plagued you all afternoon. But his warmth, his ease—it was disarming.

“What about you?” he asked, stepping back just enough to study your face. “You alright? You look… off.”

Your pulse quickened. “I’m fine,” you lied, yourvoice barely steady.

You wanted to believe there was a simple, reasonable explanation. That there was some part of him you just hadn’t understood yet. But doubt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts, the image of that black case burned into your memory.

For now, you swallowed your questions.

A couple of weeks later you came home to your flat, which was eerily quiet. You set your bag down by the door, glancing around with a small frown. Usually, Tangerine would be there to greet you when you came back early from a work trip, even if it was a surprise. He was intuitive like that, always one step ahead.

But today, nothing.

You checked your phone. No messages. No missed calls. He had mentioned something about helping Lemon with a “project” while you were gone. Maybe he was still at his brother’s place.

Your lips twitched into a soft smile as you decided to surprise him there instead. Lemon’s flat was just a short walk away, tucked into a quaint building near the canal. You’d been there before, but rarely—it was more a crash pad than a home, and Lemon had joked that the decor was an affront to your more refined tastes.

Still, you didn’t hesitate. Tangerine would be thrilled to see you, and you’d been missing him more than you cared to admit.

The walk was brisk, the damp London air clinging to you as you climbed the narrow stairs to Lemon’s flat. The door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar, the faintest sliver of light spilling onto the threadbare carpet. You hesitated, your pulse quickening. It wasn’t like them to leave a door open.

You pushed it wider.

What you stepped into didn’t make sense. Your mind refused to connect the dots at first, as though shielding you from the truth.

The harsh fluorescent light buzzed overhead, illuminating the scene in stark detail. Lemon stood to the side, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. Tangerine was seated, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hands soaked with something dark. His knuckles were bloody, his breathing labored.

In front of him, a man was tied to a chair, his face swollen and unrecognizable beneath layers of blood. Underneath him a tarp, covered in blood, spread out. He groaned, barely conscious, as Tangerine leaned forward with a knife glinting in his hand.

“What were you thinking?” Tangerine snarled, his voice cold, clinical. “Betraying your Boss like that and stealing his Money? Thought you’d get away with that, yeah?”

The man tried to speak, but only blood gurgled out of him.

You gasped before you could stop yourself, the sound loud and sharp in the silence.

Tangerine and Lemon turned toward you at once.

“Darling—” Tangerine was on his feet in an instant, his face morphing from rage to something that looked almost like panic. His hands twitched, as if he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare.

You stumbled back a step, your mind reeling. “What… what is this?” Your voice shook, barely above a whisper.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he started, his tone too calm, too rehearsed.

You laughed, a hollow, disbelieving sound. “Not what it looks like? You’re covered in blood, Tangerine! There’s a man—” your voice cracked as you gestured wildly toward the bound figure. “What the hell is going on?”

Lemon cleared his throat, taking a tentative step forward. “Listen, love, it’s… complicated.”

“Complicated?” You turned on him, your eyes wide and wild. “You’ve both been lying to me, haven’t you? All these years! What do you even do for a living? What is this?”

The man in the chair moaned again, and you flinched, clutching your arms as if that might hold you together.

Tangerine’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

Your blood ran cold at the words. They weren’t a threat—you knew that much—but they weren’t comforting either.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you whispered, the betrayal hitting you like a physical blow. “I thought I was coming home to my husband, to the man I love. And now… now I don’t even know who you are.”

Tangerine stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. His hands were still bloodied, but his expression was pleading. “I can explain—”

“No,” you snapped, stepping back. “Don’t you dare try to explain this away. You’re a… a killer.” your voice broke on the word. “Both of you. All this time, and I didn’t see it. How could I not see it?”

“Because we didn’t want you to,” Lemon said quietly. “We kept you out of it for a reason. To keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You turned on him, voice rising. “Do I look safe to you?”

The room fell silent, the weight of the truth settling over them. Tangerine’s shoulders slumped, his usual confidence stripped away.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he murmured. “I swear to you, love, I did it all to protect you.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You lied to me. You both lied to me. And now… I don’t even know what to do with this.”

Your gaze flicked to the half dead man in the chair, and you felt your stomach churn. You backed toward the door, hands shaking.

“Wait,” Tangerine called, his voice breaking. “Please, just—”

You didn’t let him finish. You turned and ran, the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hall as the door slammed shut behind you.

The rain was coming down in sheets by the time you made it back to your flat, your clothes clinging to you like a second skin. You barely registered the cold, your mind still replaying the scene at Lemon’s flat in an endless, gut-wrenching loop. The blood on Tangerine’s hands. The lifeless look in that man’s eyes. The sound of your husband’s voice, low and cruel, as he spoke words you could hardly believe came from him.

You locked the door behind you and slid down against it, burying your face in your hands. Your body trembled, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you tried to process the enormity of what you’d seen.

It wasn’t something you could rationalize away.

Tangerine was a killer.

He didn’t come home that night. You didn’t expect him to.

The hours dragged by, the flat feeling too quiet, too empty, despite your swirling thoughts. You tried to sleep but couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, the image of his bloodstained hands flashed behind your lids.

When morning came, you were still sitting on the couch, clutching a cold cup of tea. Your phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence. The name on the screen made your heart lurch.

Tangerine.

You stared at it, your thumb hovering over the screen. A part of you wanted to answer, to hear his voice, to demand answers. But another part of —the part that was still reeling from what you’d seen—refused. When the call went to voicemail, you breathed a sigh of relief.

Then came the knock at the door.

Your stomach flipped. You stood slowly, hesitating before peering through the peephole.

Tangerine.

He looked rough—his hair disheveled, dark circles under his eyes, his shirt rumpled as if he hadn’t slept either. For a moment, you considered pretending you weren’t home, but the weight of his presence was too much to ignore.

You opened the door just a crack. “What do you want?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“To talk,” he said, his tone soft, almost apologetic. “Please, love. Just let me explain.”

You hesitated, then opened the door wider, though you didn’t move to let him in. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “I know how it looked,” he began, his voice strained. “And I’m not gonna insult you by sayin’ it wasn’t bad, because it was. But I need you to understand why—why Lemon and I do what we do.”

“Do what?” you interrupted, voice sharp. “Murder people? Torture them?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “We take out people who deserve it. Criminals. Traffickers. Dangerous people who’d hurt a lot more than just us if we didn’t stop them.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re trying to justify this to me? What—you’re some kind of vigilante now? A hitman with a heart of gold?”

“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice rising in frustration. “I’m not sayin’ it’s good, but it’s what I’m good at. It’s how I keep you safe.”

You flinched at the word. “Safe? That word again? Do you even hear yourself? Tangerine, the real danger is you.”

The words hit him like a slap. He took a step back, his face a mixture of hurt and guilt. “You don’t think that.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t even know who you are.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time, he looked… vulnerable. “I’m still me, love. The man who wakes up early to make you coffee because I know you hate doing it. The man who knows how you take your tea and what song you hum when you’re nervous. The man who loves you more than anything in this bloody world.”

Your throat tightened. “The man who lies to me. Who kills people. Who pretended to have a normal life while dragging me into something I never asked for.”

He stepped closer, his expression desperate. “I didn’t want this for you. That’s why I kept it from you. To give you a life that wasn’t… tainted by what I do.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “But you lied, Tangerine. For years. How do we come back from that?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

Days passed. You stayed in the flat, avoiding his calls and visits. Lemon came by once, leaving a box of your favorite chocolates and a note that read, We’re not the monsters you think we are. You didn’t know what to do with that, so you stuffed it in a drawer and tried to pretend it didn’t exist.

But the silence didn’t bring you peace. It only left you with more questions.

The thought of losing him was unbearable, but the thought of staying felt impossible.

One night, there was another knock at the door. This time, it was Lemon.

“I know you don’t want to see him,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “But you need to hear this.”

You crossed your arms. “Hear what?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tangerine’s pulling out. From all of it. The jobs, the contracts—everything. Said if it meant losing you, he’d rather walk away.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

Lemon nodded. “He’s serious. Don’t ask me how he plans to do it, but he’s already burning bridges. He’d never say it outright, but… you’re his whole bloody world. Always have been.”

Your chest tightened, torn between anger and the faintest flicker of hope. “That doesn’t erase what he’s done.”

“No,” Lemon agreed, his tone grave. “But maybe it’s a start.”

[noodlewritez]

can you please do something for sub! dave lizewski? possibly including a mommy kink? like maybe she finds out his kickass and he apologizes (like the one scene) and then smut? or you can do whatever else you want

I didn't mean to scare you...

Pairings: Fem!reader X Dave Lizewski

warnings: smut (EVERYONE IS 18+), mommy kink, femdom, swearing, he's kinda gross but ya'll already knew that.

A/N: YESSSS! I need more requests like this oml! Also, I am so sorry this took so long to whip up but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!♡

It had been a few months since the internet and Myspace all started to get overtaken by the popularity of Kick-ass, the world’s new superhero, which, yeah. It was a little weird that you could approach him in any stray alley you wandered into. You kinda liked it. The way his voice cracked in that clip all over the news got you hotter than you would've liked to admit...

You sat in art class, mostly just using the period to talk to your friends while lazily sketching in one of your notepads so you wouldn't get in trouble. "He is so hot! Oh, my lord, i would hit that." You exclaimed to your best friend, Dave and his little 'group' of friends (if you could call them that). Marty exchanged a smirk with Todd and snickered. Dave chuckled and looked at you, a little longer than he had before. “I-Really? Him?” He asks, almost nervously.

“Automatic yes.” The conversation ended when the bell rang deafeningly as he quickly gathered his books and comics and whisked himself off to biology class while you stared him down, taking your time to get up as you would ditch the next class.

That night, you're playing on your computer, with your headphones on, letting the blaring music take over your brain for the thoughtless task you were performing when you see a person next to your window on your roof and your heart spikes. You get up slowly, not wanting to alarm them and you grab your knife your parents gave you for self defense. You then hear a knock on the glass.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion then open the window to reveal Kick-ass, the city's superhero. Your eyes widen as you back away purely in shock. "Kick-ass?!" You shout. He motions for you to be quiet as he climbs into your bedroom.

"Y/N...I...I have to tell you..." He pauses, looking down. He takes his mask off, revealing Dave Lizewski...The school nerd...? You shoot him a confused look. "Dave?!" You exclaim. His look turns to worry.

You get up, grabbing his hands. "You should've told me sooner..."You look up to him. "I always thought Kick-ass was hot and now he's even hotter." You smirk up to him. His eyes widen. You get up, grabbing his hands. "You should've told me sooner..."You look up to him. "I always thought Kick-ass was hot and now he's even hotter." You smirk up to him. His eyes widen. "I don't want this ruin our friendship..." He blushes. You kiss him in a hurry before he can say anything more.

You make your way down to his neck, leaving hickeys and nipping at the sensitive skin that hadn't been touched before. "Fuck, Y/N...!" He cries as your teeth catch onto a particularly sensitive spot. Your lips curve into a mischievous smirk as you push him down onto your bed, climbing over him and pinning him to the bed.

You like that?" You ask teasingly, gently dragging your knee over his painfully obvious boner. He inhales sharply and throws his head against the sheets. "Fuuuuck!" He moans while you throw your leg over his, sitting directly on his hard cock, teasing and dry-humping him through the green fabric that held him prisoner. "You like to be cock teased, hmm?"

"Fuck, please, mommy...Just fucking put it in." He pants as he watches your waist torment him further. "Say please.." You weren't gonna make him beg any further, while you would've loved that, your sopping heat was just getting more and more soaked as you grinded against his 7 inch, red, violently stiff cock.

"Please....Please, mommy, please put it in.." He mewls as he bucks his hips into yours. He sits up, unzipping his suit, leaving it to you to tear if off of him, throwing it off somewhere in your room.

You slam him back onto the bed, pinning him by his biceps. You sink yourself down onto his angry, red cock. He sucks a breath in and once again, throws his head back, his curls bouncing against the bed. He lets something like a groan and whimper slip past those cracked, cold lips, his fingers interlocking yours. You sit still while he holds onto your hand, his nails digging into the back of your hand. "Shit, you're so fucking big, Dave..."

"God...Fuck, quit squeezing me...Gonna run out of air here." He jokes, letting an airy chuckle out again. You chuckle back and lean down, your chest touching his, getting right in his ear. "We're just getting started, baby." You whisper. "Can I move..?" You lick up the side of his ear and the bite down harshly at the top. "He whimpers again and nods.

You slam down onto him and he grunts, taking your rough manner with such grace. "Fuck, Y/N...Fuck!" His voice cracks as you roughly slam down on him repeatedly, milking him of every drop he has to offer you. He sits up, sloppily kissing you, silencing his whimpers. His brows furrow as he can feel himself get close. He breaks away, roughly grabbing your hips. "I- I can't... I'm gonna cum, I'm sorry..." He mumbles against your lips. You can't help but smile at how cute he was, apologizing for cumming too quickly when in realty you thought it was cute. Tears form in his eyes as he pumps his seed into you. He cries as he falls back, exhausted, his eyes closing.

[cowboybeepboop]

Crave

"Y/N, is this... what you want?" 

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: You’re close friends with the two brothers from childhood, years of a debilitating crush on Sergei finally builds into something more. 

a/n: i just saw this movie like a couple days ago and all i can think of is needy virgin Sergei 😣 i didn’t proofread what so ever and also i wrote this in barely any time but i hope you all enjoy AND PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY KRAVEN REQUESTS SEND THEM MY WAY IM CRAVING THIS MAN

It's been a few successful days in avoiding the two brothers, you do this every year, like clockwork. Whenever Sergei comes back home, you distract yourself and stay away the best you can. It’s not worth the heartbreak to see him leave over and over again. 

Dimitri has been calling you nightly, but each night you can hear the sounds of Sergei in the background. He plagues your thoughts, your dreams, your days. All you can think about is the warmth of his skin under your fingers and the gentleness of his touch. 

You shudder as your eyes shut, warmth pooling in your panties as your mind wanders back to him. "Dimitri.. I've gotta go," you murmur into the phone. "I'm going to get some drinks with my friend here soon." 

Dimitri replies enthusiastically, agreeing with your choice. He wishes you goodnight and hangs up the phone, leaving you with the image of Sergei's intense gaze, the feel of his muscles under your fingertips, and the lingering warmth in your stomach.

You can't shake the thoughts, the images of him constantly swirling in your head, the way his voice changes when he speaks, the touch of his hands. It haunts your dreams, and you can't help but feel an unexplainable intrigue and a growing desire for him.

You quickly get changed, ready for a night of reckless distraction, desperately seeking a way to forget about the complex hunter. You head out, the cool night air hitting your skin, the music getting louder and louder as you approach the club. 

You arrive, and the thumping music and flashing lights engulf you, offering a temporary escape from your thoughts of the man who has been plaguing your mind. Taking in the overwhelming atmosphere of the club, the loud music, the flashing lights, and the sea of bodies, all of it works together to create a sense of chaos and excitement. 

Despite the distraction, you can't shake the sensation of being watched, it lingers even as the bouncer returns your ID. Your mind drifts back to Sergei, and the memory of his intense gaze lingers in your thoughts, almost as if you sense his presence somewhere nearby.

You try to shake off the feeling getting a few shots to distract yourself and calm your wandering mind. As time passes, you've found your target: he's a decent-looking man, with a similar haircut to Sergei, a gentle demeanor, and he has a nice smile. He's good enough for what you need him for.  

The two of you exit the building, the chill midnight air freezing your skin immediately, the man you're with clutches his jacket tighter. Obviously showing a lack of interest in helping you cover your skin. 

Despite being with this man, you still can't entirely shake the feeling of being watched. It lingers, a constant reminder of the man you're trying to forget. Sergei watches from afar, his jaw clenched as he notices your shiver. You whip your head around, looking for the eyes that are following your every move. 

You can't see him, but he's still there, standing in the shadow of a dimly lit alleyway. His eyes follow your every move, observing your interactions with the man beside you. His jaw remains tight, his gaze cold and intense. 

As you whip around, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the darkness, just beyond the reach of the dim street light. It’s subtle, but the feeling of being observed lingers.

Unfortunately, this night will not be filled with any sort of satisfaction as you notice a group of men dressed in dark clothes, weapons hidden in their pockets. "Fuck." you whisper, using your arms to cover your skin the best you can.

The men approach, their intentions unclear, and the tension in the air is palpable. The cold wind bites at your skin, and you can't help but wrap your arms around yourself, your teeth chatter, and goosebumps rise on your skin, yet you can sense another gaze watching you, fixated, observing your every move.

Before you have time to react Sergei approaches from the shadows, giving the group a warning look as he steps closer to you. The men stop in their tracks, their gazes shifting to the imposing figure stepping out of the darkness. 

Their muscles tense, and they exchange hesitant glances as Sergei approaches closer, his presence radiating danger, his piercing eyes fixed on the men in front of you.

His hands are gentle on your shoulder, causing you to jump as you turn to look at him, you immediately relax when you recognize him. Finding comfort in his strong protective arms. 

His touch carries reassurance, his big, sturdy hands gently resting on your shoulder, offering a subtle sense of security. His eyes, no matter how cold they seem, convey a flicker of concern, a flicker of reassurance that speaks more than words. 

The tension lingers, but the warmth of his touch somehow seems to offer a moment of tranquility, a gentle comfort despite the surrounding danger.

Sergei removes his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders to keep you warm. "I suggest you all disperse, go your separate ways," he warns with narrowed eyes. The men listen, running in different directions, even your date scurries away. 

The men disperse hurriedly, leaving you and Sergei standing alone in the cold, the sounds of the night filling the air around you. You shiver, the cold air seeping through your clothing, but the warmth of his jacket offers some comfort, the fabric soft against your skin. The tension in the air is now replaced by a hushed stillness, save for the faint noise from the club behind you.

"You scared away my date.." you whisper, turning to face him while gripping the coat around you tightly. 

He stands there, the cold air mixing with his breath, his expression cool and composed, but there's a hint of sincerity in his gaze as he looks at you. His voice, low and measured, responds to your words.

"Your choice in company leaves much to be desired." He watches you, studying your shivering form, seeing how you clutch his jacket tightly for warmth.

"I suppose you're right," you move closer to him, craving the warmth of his skin. "But, I did have a plan for how my Friday night would go." Sergei begins to lead you in the direction of your apartment, his hands gentle on your frame.

He walks beside you, his presence towering above you, his movements deliberate and measured. He remains silent as he guides you towards your apartment. 

He glances at you from the corner of his gaze, seeing how you instinctively lean into him, seeking his heat and protection. He can't help but notice the way you grasp his coat, his gaze flickering to your hand gripping the fabric.

Once you reach the building you face him once again, the alcohol mixing with your unwavering horniness as you study his features. "Sergei.." you whisper his name, stomach twisting with desire. 

His eyes meet yours, his icy gaze studying your face as you say his name. His eyes flick between yours, the sound of his name causing a subtle reaction in his expression, a flicker of some unknown emotion.

"Yes, Y/N?" His voice is composed but holds a hint of something unfamiliar, something subtle and hard to discern, perhaps an echo of a memory or a flicker of feelings he thought were long-forgotten.

"Don't say my name like that," you whine, your eyebrows furrowing with frustration. 

His eyebrows raise slightly with curiosity upon hearing your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes. He studies the frustration in your expression, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

"How else should I say it?" He asks, his voice quiet but measured, a hint of genuine curiosity in his words. Despite his icy demeanor, there's a hint of gentle protectiveness as he looks at you, trying to figure out why the way he said your name made you react with frustration.

You groan, turning away from him, your body aching for his touch. "Forget it, I should get inside. It's cold." 

He follows you into the building, the door closing behind you both. The sound of the city seems to fade away, replaced by the stillness of the hallway. 

He studies you, noticing your frustrated groan and the way you turn away from him. As you stand there, he can sense your frustration, the unspoken desires still hanging between you two. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"  He asks, his voice quiet and measured. He watches you, feeling a pang of curiosity as to why you seemed to grow frustrated at the mere sound of his voice.

You unlock the door to your apartment, the neediness in his tone making your panties soaked. "Sergei..." you practically whine his name, frustrated with the lack of awareness he has of how much he's affecting you.

As you unlock the door, his eyes flick to yours, the slight desperation evident in your voice causing his gaze to soften even further, his eyes fixated on you. He follows you inside the door, his eyes trained on your face. 

There's a noticeable pause, a slight shift in the air. He can sense the tension and the subtle emotions hidden beneath your frustration, but he seems unaware of the impact he's having on you.

"Y/N..." He responds gently, his voice carrying a hint of a question, a tinge of hesitance as if he senses something but can't quite tell what.

You squeeze your thighs tightly together, "Don't say it like that.." you gasp, he finally catches on to your behavior. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils. 

He's still for a moment, the realization seems to dawn on him, a subtle shift in his expression, and his eyes widen a bit as he stands there silently. The air feels heavy with your arousal, the scent filling his senses, the realization hitting him like a sudden wave. 

He stares at you, his eyes tracing the way you squeeze your thighs together, trying to hide the visible effect he's having on you.

"Like what?" He asks quietly, his voice low, as if he knows the answer, but needs your confirmation. His eyes remain fixated on you, taking in every tiny movement, every little sign of your arousal. 

There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of a realization that he may be the cause of your frustration.

"I can't.." you sigh, reaching out to touch his firm abs, "The way you're saying my name.. it turns me on." you press your face into his chest, craving his touch. 

A shiver runs through his body at your words, the touch of your hand against his abs, and the way you press your face to his chest. He seems to tense up for a moment, caught off guard by your words and the way you press against him.

He stands there, still trying to process your admission, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed on you as you nuzzle against him, the tension between you almost palpable.

"Sergei.. Say something, anything.." you murmur, pulling away from him reluctantly. 

His breath catches in his throat, and his chest heaves as he stares down at you, the scent of your arousal flooding his senses. He's silent for a moment, still trying to comprehend the effect he has on you, his heart beats a bit faster, and his words seem to get stuck in his throat.

"Y/N..." He murmurs softly, almost hesitantly, his voice carrying a slight tremble as he tries to choose the right words amidst his unexpected arousal.

You take his hand in yours, leading it towards your aching cunt. "Sergei.. please.." 

His eyes widen slightly at the gentle touch of your hand, his breath is sharp as he feels the soft heat of your body. His fingers tense as you lead his hand, a mix of bewilderment and arousal coursing through him. He follows your lead, his touch gentle as he moves as you guide him. 

"Y/N.." He exhales, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes holding a hint of uncertainty as he looks at you, his gaze flickering between your face and his hand as you guide it to where you need it most.

You moan as his fingers brush over the growing wet spot, your body shaking with anticipation. 

He can feel the heat of your arousal through your clothes, a shiver runs through his body, goosebumps rise on his skin, and his eyes hold a mix of surprise and a subtle hunger. His touch lingers for a moment, his fingers just tracing the growing wetness, his voice wavering as he speaks.

He swallows hard, his words still hesitant, a breathless tone to his voice. "I don't know what... I'm doing..."

You guide his hand under the fabric of your panties, silently begging him to please you, to take control. You're too far gone to process the words he murmured, lust clouding your mind. 

He takes a deep breath as his fingers move under the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a bolt of electricity through him, his whole body seems to shudder at the sensation. His eyes hold a mix of uncertainty and a sudden surge of arousal as he tries to understand what he's feeling.

"Y/N, is this... what you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse as he speaks, his other hand gripping your waist, his fingers holding onto you needily despite his uncertainty.

"Yes… Yes please," you whine, fingers pressing into his as you guide his movements against your clit.

His breath catches as you guide his fingers, a low, almost guttural groan escaping him, his fingers press into you, trying to find the right rhythm. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his body pressed closer to you. 

"Like this?" He asks almost hesitantly, his words coming out in a rush, the tension between you both rising by the second.

You moan desperately, body shuddering as his rough fingers tease your swollen pearl. "Exactly like this.." your breathing becomes uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

He can feel the effect his touch has on you, the sounds that escape you pushing him forward, the feeling of you responding to his touch. His breathing grows heavier, and his hand moves between your thighs, fingers pressing and teasing exactly as you guide him, a surge of arousal coursing through him at your sounds. 

"I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a growing hunger, but still a hint of uncertainty, as if he's not entirely sure of what to do.

Your moans become more needy, using your free hand you pull his face to yours desperately kissing him. Your legs tremble as you cum, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clench around his arm.

The suddenness of your kiss catches him off guard, his lips respond to yours urgently, a mixture of hunger and a subtle hesitancy in his movements. As you moan and tremble, he can feel it in every inch of his body, his own arousal growing at the sound of your pleasure. 

He kisses you back with a mix of need and an undeniable arousal, his strong arm holding you tightly against him. He can sense the tension breaking, your nails gripping tightly to him, your body pressing desperately into his touch, the heat and the taste of your lips driving him wild.

You shudder, leaning forward and pressing a few soft kisses into his neck as all the tension leaves you. "Fuck, Sergei.. so good.." you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you slide your fingers over the marks you left on his back, gently soothing the reddened scratches.

He moans softly as you press kisses against his neck, a low, pleased rumble escaping his chest. He pulls you closer against him, his body pressed flush with yours as he wraps his arms around you. A mix of feelings swirling within him, uncertainty and hunger, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. 

His grip on you tightens slightly, holding you in place as you soothe the scratches you left behind, a subtle shiver running down his spine as your fingers graze over the marks. His heart pounds furiously in his chest, his body responding to every touch and every sound you make.

You slip out of his grasp, leading him to your bedroom as you slide out of your dress, standing in front of him in just your panties and bra. "I need you.." you whisper, eyes full of desire.

He follows you to the bedroom, his eyes scanning your body as you slip out of your dress, his gaze dark and intense as he takes in your form. His heart beats furiously in his chest, the hunger growing inside him, a mix of desire and uncertainty as his eyes roam over you. 

A low, quiet moan escapes him, his voice hoarse and filled with longing as he responds to your words. "I need you too, Y/N, I'm just unsure.. I've never..." He hesitates, his eyes filled with a combination of uncertainty and a growing hunger that he can no longer deny.

"It's all instincts," you murmur, bringing his hands to your breasts. "I can teach you... but just do what feels right." you brush your thumb over his cheekbone.

He swallows hard at your words, his eyes fixed on your form as his hands move to your breasts, a mix of uncertainty and a growing hunger filling him. As his palms cup your chest, he exhales deeply, his breath catching in his throat. He nods in response to your words, his eyes searching for guidance as he looks into yours. 

You reach back and unclasp your bra, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze, sliding out of your underwear and moving to undress him. 

A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes fixed on your chest, his gaze filled with hunger and a growing need. He can feel the anticipation coursing through him, his breath catching as you undress him, his heart beating thunderously in his chest. 

He can't help but respond to your touch, his body is eager for your guidance. As you move to undress him, his eyes linger on you, taking in every little detail as his mind seems to be clouded by arousal, a mix of lust and an unfamiliar sensation he can't quite name.

He slowly lowers himself onto his knees, his gaze dark and lustful as he stares up at you. Sergei presses wet kisses onto your thighs, the scent of your cunt making his eyes roll back as he spreads your legs. 

There's a mix of hunger and anticipation in his eyes as he drops to his knees before you, his gaze intense and dark with a growing desire, his hands caressing your thighs. As his kisses travel along your thighs, his breathing grows heavier, his eyes rolling back as he takes in the scent of your desires. 

He looks up at you, a mix of hunger and a subtle uncertainty in his gaze as he runs his tongue along your inner thigh, his movements gentle as if he's trying to gauge your reaction, to figure out what to do.

Your legs spread wider, giving him room to bury his face into your soaking pussy. He sticks his tongue out, slowly licking up your wetness, and his hands grasp onto your hipbones pulling you closer. 

He can feel the warmth and wetness against his lips, and his tongue flickers over your sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your hipbones tightens, pulling you closer to him, his fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. 

“Fuck..” you moan eyes fluttering shut as you lurch forward, his tongue slips into your pulsing hole, lapping up every liquid. Your hips instinctively begin to move against his mouth, grinding against his stubble. 

His eyes are trained on your face, watching every bit of pleasure wash over you. His mouth moves to your clit, his tongue gently brushing over the sensitive bud causing you to jolt and let out a needy moan. 

“Right there, jus’ like that..” you whine, fingers twisting in his hair as moans fall from your open mouth. He does as you instruct, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue teasing it roughly as his hunger grows. 

You let out a gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as you tremble, legs growing weak. Sergei holds your body up his mouth working against you as he chases your orgasm. 

Tears brim your eyes as the pleasure overwhelms you, with a loud moan you finally let go, cum spilling from you as you press onto his face trying to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit. 

He keeps lapping up at the liquids, hungry for more. “Sergei.. no more..” you whine, shaking above him. 

His face is glazed as he stands up, he can taste you on his lips, the hunger in his eyes still evident. He stands before you, his eyes filled with lust and a mix of newfound confidence. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering on your trembling form as he holds onto you, trying to steady you.

You pull him into another hungry kiss, feeling his hands explore your body as he palms your breasts. His fingers tweaking your nipples as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap. 

He responds to your kiss with urgency and need, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve and contour, tracing over your skin with a kind of hunger and reverence. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his grip firmer now, his own need and hunger growing more intense. 

He breaks the kiss, his breath heavy as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and a hint of something more, a feeling that he can't quite comprehend.

“You’re so hard..” you murmur, feeling his clothed length pressing into your wet cunt. 

He moans softly at the feeling, his breath catches as you speak, and a low growl escapes him as he responds. "You... do this to me." His voice is low, his hands gripping your hips firmly, guiding you closer to him. "I can't control this... this feeling. I need you..." He admits, the sensations coursing through him overwhelming, his body responding to your proximity to him.

You begin to slowly move your hips against his, shaking as the roughness of the fabric brushes over your overstimulated clit. "Then take me.." you whisper into his ear, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He growls softly, his breath catches in his throat as you move against him, his senses flooding with sensations, his breathing is shallow, and his hands tighten on your hips. His eyes burn with hunger, his body moving in unison with yours. "I don't know if I can be gentle, Y/N," he whispers, his voice hoarse and desperate, "I need you. Now."

With trembling hands, Sergei guides you back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't ignore the need pounding through him, but he's cautious, knowing this is new to him. He carefully positions himself over you, his large hands supporting his weight as he aligns his cock with your entrance. 

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, but the heat in them is unmistakable. "Y/N, are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. You nod eagerly, your body arching up to meet his. He takes a deep breath, and with one swift, gentle thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. 

His eyes squeeze shut tightly as he feels you stretch around him, his whole body shaking with the effort to hold back his desire. He's so thick, so warm, and the sensation sends a new wave of pleasure through your core. 

"So good," he murmurs against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he starts to move, his hips tentatively pushing in and out. His inexperience is evident in his careful movements, but the need in his touch, the way his body responds to yours, is undeniably erotic. 

You wrap your legs around him, urging him to go deeper, and he responds, his strokes becoming more confident as he finds a rhythm that has you both panting and moaning in sync. Despite his lack of experience, his instincts guide him, and every touch, every stroke feels like it was designed to make you lose control. 

His gentle, yet firm grip on your hips, the way he kisses and nips at your neck, it's all too much, and you can feel another orgasm building, threatening to shatter you apart. "Y/N... I'm... I'm going to... " he stammers, his body tensing as he nears his release. 

With a final, deep thrust, he fills you with his stringy thick cum, his body collapsing on top of yours, his breath hot against your neck. He reaches down to your clit, brushing his forefinger over it desperate to make you cum again. 

A few more strokes cause you to shudder and tremble around his, your pussy clenching around his cock as you cum. “Holy shit.. you’re so good,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his hungrily.

[moonlight-joy]

Tethered by Shadows

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You reconnect with Alexei and Sergei, two brothers central to your life—Alexei, your charming best friend, and Sergei, the intense man you’ve secretly loved for years. As feelings with Sergei deepen into a passionate relationship, tensions arise with Alexei’s protective concern. Despite challenges, you embrace Sergei’s intensity and vulnerability, choosing love and an uncertain but meaningful future together.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

You’d been close to Sergei and Alexei for years—two brothers so wildly different that it made their bond almost inexplicable. Sergei, all quiet intensity and sharp edges, contrasted sharply with Alexei’s easy charm and golden smile. Together, they were magnetic, their energy drawing you in during your high school years in New York. You were their unofficial third, the sibling neither had but both seemed to need.

But your feelings for Sergei had always been different, deeper. It wasn’t just his mystery that captivated you; it was the way he noticed things no one else did. He never spoke more than necessary, but when he did, his words carried weight. He saw through masks and pretenses, including your own, and that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.

You told yourself it was a crush, a fleeting infatuation with the untouchable older brother of your best friend. But years passed, and the feelings only grew stronger. You buried them deep, convinced Sergei could never see you the same way. After all, Sergei wasn’t like Alexei, who openly shared his emotions. Sergei guarded himself, wrapping his heart in layers of impenetrable steel. You were certain he would never let you in.

Life pulled you in different directions after school, as life so often does. Alexei went on to pursue his grand ambitions, always sending you messages from across the world—photos, postcards, updates brimming with enthusiasm. Sergei disappeared in the opposite direction, keeping his distance even as he occasionally surfaced for family gatherings or quiet check-ins. You didn’t see either of them for a long time, but the space only made your feelings for Sergei more complicated.

Then, after years apart, they invited you to dinner. It was Alexei’s idea, of course—an impromptu reunion in the city where you’d grown up together. You hesitated before agreeing, knowing it would bring Sergei back into your orbit. When you finally saw them again, sitting together at a small table in a dimly lit restaurant, the sight of Sergei hit you harder than you expected. His features were sharper now, his presence even more commanding. The years had only deepened what had always drawn you to him.

You sat across from him, hyper-aware of every movement, every glance. He didn’t say much, letting Alexei fill the space with stories and laughter, but his eyes lingered on you in a way they never had before. It unnerved you, the way he seemed to see more than you wanted to show.

The tension grew over the weeks that followed. Reconnecting with Alexei was easy; it always had been. He was the same vibrant, carefree spirit you’d known since you were kids. But Sergei was different. He stayed close to the edges, observing, waiting. His touches, though infrequent, lingered. A brush of his hand as he passed you something across the table. The brief press of his palm against your lower back when you walked ahead of him. It was maddening, the way he kept you on edge without ever crossing the line.

And then, one night, he did.

It happened after a late dinner, when Alexei had left early to meet some friends. Sergei offered to walk you home. The air between you was charged as you stepped out into the cool night, his presence beside you steady and grounding. The city around you felt distant, its usual chaos muted by the sound of your footsteps and the racing of your heart.

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to thank him, only to find him closer than you expected. His eyes were darker than usual, their intensity pinning you in place.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was holding something back.

“So are you,” you replied, your own voice unsteady.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence stretched taut between you, and then he stepped closer, his hand brushing your arm. His gaze dropped to your lips, and your breath hitched.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. And when his lips finally met yours, it was like the world around you disappeared. The kiss was everything you’d imagined—intense, consuming, and electric with years of unspoken longing. Sergei kissed like he did everything else, with precision and purpose, as though he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

The days that followed were a blur of stolen moments and quiet confessions. Sergei wasn’t a man of grand gestures, but he didn’t need to be. He showed his feelings in the way he looked at you, the way he listened, the way he let his walls down when it was just the two of you. For the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind his carefully constructed armor, and it only made you fall harder.

But it wasn’t all easy. Alexei noticed the shift between you almost immediately. He wasn’t blind to the way Sergei’s gaze softened when it landed on you or the way you seemed to light up in his presence. At first, he didn’t say anything, but his silence was heavy, filled with unspoken questions.

One night, he cornered you, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“What’s going on with you and Sergei?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

You hesitated, knowing there was no point in lying. “It’s… complicated.”

Alexei’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but no less firm. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. Sergei’s not like me. He’s… intense. He doesn’t do things halfway.”

“I know,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

Alexei studied you for a long moment before nodding, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fade.

Loving Sergei was a whirlwind of contradictions—intense and grounding, thrilling and terrifying. He wasn’t an easy man to love, but you didn’t want easy. You wanted him. And as the city’s lights flickered in the distance, you realized that you were no longer afraid of the shadows. You had always been tethered to Sergei, whether you knew it or not. And now, you were ready to embrace everything that came with it.

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[aarontaylorjohnsonappreciation]

Aaron Taylor-Johnson at CDMX Mexico

[corawithfanfiction]

Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!Reader

(Kraven the Hunter, Request)

My Materialist

warnings: nudity, self-gratification, foreplay, masturbation, intimidation, oral intercourse, dirty tongue.

Summury: When you take a shower after a tiring day, Sergei comes back home to surprise you.

1634 Word

At Nova's (@novaawayne) request, I hope you like it, sweetie.

Ask for permission before quoting or translating!

Sergei had been away for a long time. He had business as usual. You never questioned much. Somewhere you knew the answers, but you also knew it was better not to ask. You thought a hot shower would loosen you up and help you fall asleep faster as the longing seeped into every fiber of your being.

You turned off the lights in your penthouse apartment, small but with enough space for you. You light one or two candles to create a calmer atmosphere and escape the tiredness of the day. The smell of the candles instantly permeated the small apartment and the dim light lulled you into a little bit of a stupor.

You get rid of your clothes and turn the water to the ideal temperature. Finally, before entering the shower, you found one of your favorite playlists on your phone and turned it on. You let the sound of the music diffuse into the environment just like the scent of the candles. When the water was warm enough, you got in and let the tiredness of the day wash away. Once you were satisfied that you were sufficiently soaked, you lathered yourself up. You let the vanilla and cinnamon flavored shower gel envelop your entire body. You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sergei had touched you wherever the lather reached.

You continued to cover yourself in bubbles until the thoughts became more and more desperate, until the longing filled your whole soul and reached your core. Desperate, you slid your hand down your body and began to rub yourself with your fingers. You accelerated your movements as the pressure became insufficient. Finally you gave up when a moan of frustration escaped your lips. You used to be able to satisfy yourself. Then you met him and all the things he could do to your body. After Sergei, nothing could ever replace him.

You took a deep breath and decided to sleep tonight in disappointment. You rinsed your whole body one last time with warm water and turned off the water. You decided that the best thing to do was to wrap yourself in a bathrobe and spend a girly girl night in bed watching 'Sex and the City'

As soon as you opened the shower door and stepped out, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. As your scream escaped your lips at the powerful sensation, your body betrayed you by the familiar warmth and instantly began to relax. You stopped screaming at the sound of laughter behind you and the warmth of breath on the back of your neck. A pair of full lips pressed a faint kiss to his neck.

“I'm sorry to scare you, my love, but I miss you so much.”

As soon as you heard Sergei's voice, you left his arms and immediately turned around to meet his eyes. Your breathing became ragged as you felt his blue eyes on you again. Your eyes welled up and you didn't want him to see you like this, so you wrapped your hands around his neck and buried your face in his strong body.

"Hey севгилим, won't you let me see your beautiful eyes?”

You let out a deep sigh, still holding on to Sergei's strong grip. You buried your face in his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. The rhythmic sound of his heartbeat brought you back to peace. “Cевгилим, I heard the moans coming out of your beautiful little mouth.” She sighed with disappointment. “Were you touching yourself while I was gone…” Shaking her head no, you pulled back to meet your eyes.

“Sergei…”, your heart, filled with longing and need, couldn't form a coherent sentence. More like a whimper escaped your lips. “Y/N, севгилим,” he took a deep breath and re-established eye contact. “We talked about this.” He moistened his lips with his tongue, as if he couldn't decide exactly what to say or do. “We agreed that you would wait for me, didn't we?” His voice was not angry or resentful. Every word came out of his lips with great care. You nodded quickly in agreement. “I miss you, I know…” he interrupted with urgency. You were in no position to continue explaining yourself when his tongue slid into your mouth.

Finally he pulled back to let you breathe. After his eyes lingered on your lips for a while longer, he made eye contact again. “I know, I know, my dear.” He leaned in again for a small kiss. Then he continued. “But I thought we agreed on this, no self-pleasuring without me.” He waited a moment to make sure you could understand his words. “And there must be some punishment for breaking the forbidden, right?”

You gasped with excitement and anticipation. Your heartbeat quickened. “Anyway, I couldn't do it without you, these,” waving his fingers in the air, ”were a disappointment.” He couldn't hold back his laughter at your words. “I missed you, Sergei,” you said, leaning in closer after accompanying his laughter.

He knew it, but your confession reawakened more primal feelings in him. His breathing changed for an instant. You could feel the intensity in their flow towards you, as evidenced by the amber color of their eyes. You could bring out the animal in Sergei. And you were always proud of it. The so-called “hunter” turned into a lion when he was with you. Your lion.

"Y/N" Sergei made a sound mixed with a growl. He could feel his hands trembling. He could feel the tiny ants moving in his stomach.

Finally, he took a few steps back and leaned himself against the sink. With his hand he pulled you towards him. Step by step you let the towel you were wrapped in slip from your body as you approached him.

Sergei held his breath, watching your skin being exposed second by second. He was mesmerized by your perky breasts, which were not too small.

A mischievous smile appeared on your face as your towel fell completely to the floor. “Should I be afraid, Mr. Kravinoff?” you asked coyly when Sergei gave a grunt mixed with a growl.

Sergei leaned down and kissed your lips. “Maybe you should be a little scared.”

When Sergei was about to pull back, you put your arms around his neck and pulled him back to you. Both of you were making unexpected moves at an unexpected moment.

Your hands ran through your lover's hair while one of his hands had already found his chest.

Sergei pulled back and this time began to run his lips over the fully exposed breasts. At first he ran his lips over the beginning of the breasts, where they began to rise slightly. Then, when this was too little, he supported your breasts from below with his hands and raised the tips higher.

He wasted no time in cupping the tips of her breasts with his lips as his eyes glowed with the pink he saw on your nipples.

His eyes glowed with the pinkness he saw at the tips of her breasts and he wasted no time in grasping the nipples with his lips. You were trying to stop your moans with Sergei's every movement. Your biggest moan came when Sergei crushed your nipples with his teeth. “Shh, beautiful, you have to be quiet, we don't want to wake the neighbors.” You had no idea how to be calm and quiet. Sergei was all over you.

Sergei's fingers moved to your waist. His lips trailed warm kisses down to your crotch.

He stepped back for a few seconds as if he wanted to memorize every detail of her body. And he studied every inch of her eyes. It wasn't the first time you were naked in front of him. But you blushed every time he looked at you like that. Finally, he decided that he had examined you enough and said “okay, it's time for us to be equal” and took off first his t-shirt and then his boxers and pants.

When he leaned in to kiss you, you pulled back. When he looked at you confused, you bent down. As he looked at you with disbelieving eyes, you moistened your lips with your tongue and reached for your favorite dessert. Sergi's eyes had both pride and disbelief in them, but it didn't last a minute. He was already saying something incoherent as you started to lick your man.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

“Come here before I lose my mind,” he said, pulling you to your feet.

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

Except your wild lion.

And you knew that your lion was hungry and this was just a preparation for dinner.

My Materialist

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WE NEED MORE ATJ FANFICS YALL😭 I LITERALLY KEEP SEARCHING EVERYWHERE,HERE,AO3,WATTPAD,I CANT FIND ANYTHING JUST SOME OLD FICS THAT IVE ALREADY READ LIKE 100 TIMEEEES😭😭