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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

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Drive-In Heartbeats

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: In which Dave discovers that being just a friend was never enough.

Warnings: fluffy, pre relationship, first kiss, no use of y/n, a few fun facts, provocative!reader, suggestive

A/N: I could hardly believe my luck in finding a photo in a drive-in with Back to the Future

and thanks to @lilyypotter1234, I've been feeling a bit unmotivated to write and your message helped me, thank you very much <333

Masterlist

The huge screen of the drive-in displayed scenes from Back to the Future. The familiar soundtrack filled the air with nostalgia, but Dave’s focus wasn’t on the movie. He was sitting in the car, that old model he loved, with a front seat that seemed made for moments like this. You were so close that your shoulders and thighs touched, and that was all he could perceive. The sweet smell of chocolate mixed with the aged scent of the upholstery, and every time you rustled the candy bag or let out a soft laugh, his heart raced.

The movie was halfway through, but your conversation hadn’t slowed down. It was easy to be next to him — comfortable, yet with that tension hanging in the air, like something more was always about to happen.

“Did you know the original ending was completely different?” you asked, nibbling on the last piece of chocolate in your hand. Your voice was soft, but carried the excitement typical of someone who loved those little tidbits.

“Different how?” Dave adjusted his glasses and turned his head toward you, his blue eyes sparkling with interest. He always seemed more alive when the topic was something nerdy.

“In the first draft of the script, the 80’s George McFly would grab an old 1955 newspaper with a photo of Marty at the dance. He’d look at his son and be shocked, saying something like ‘This can’t be… this is the...’” You paused dramatically, smiling when you saw Dave completely focused on you. “And then the movie would end right there, without him managing to say the name.”

Dave blinked, the expression torn between fascination and slight indignation. “You’re kidding? That would be so frustrating! Who ends a movie like that? I’d want to blow up the cinema.”

“And you don’t think you’d blow up the cinema with that ending where Doc shows up out of nowhere saying they have to save Marty’s kids?” you teased, leaning a little closer to him.

Dave opened his mouth to respond, but ended up laughing and shaking his head, surrendering. “Okay, you’ve got a point.” He smiled that shy smile that made the air feel lighter — but at the same time, his proximity made the atmosphere warmer, more intense.

You reached out for the candy bag, only to realize it was in Dave’s lap. Before you could say anything, he grabbed a piece of chocolate and held it out for you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, but instead of taking it with your hand, you leaned in and opened your mouth, hoping he’d understand. Dave froze immediately, as if his brain was trying to process the gesture.

“Wait, you... want me to—?” He didn’t finish the sentence, his voice coming out quieter than usual.

“Uh-huh,” you responded, tilting your head slightly and keeping your gaze fixed on him, amused by the way his ears turned red.

He hesitated for a moment before leaning in slowly and placing the chocolate on your lips. But before he could pull his hand back, you lightly closed your lips around his finger, biting it gently and deliberately.

Dave made an indistinct sound, somewhere between a nervous laugh and a surprised sigh. “Did you... just bite my finger?” He blinked, clearly unsure what to do with the moment.

“It was an accident,” you lied shamelessly, the corner of your lips pulling into a mischievous smile.

He kept staring at you, his eyebrows slightly raised behind his glasses. His eyes were locked on yours, as if trying to decipher your intentions, but the heat building between you both said everything.

“You do that on purpose,” he whispered finally, his voice barely audible. He looked away for a second, as if trying to regain control of the situation, but the parted lips and the nervous movement of his fingers gave him away.

“Do what?” you asked, leaning in just enough for your knees to touch his.

Dave looked down, at the almost nonexistent space between you, then back up to your eyes. He was so close you could count his eyelashes, and there was something in his expression that felt more intense than ever. The slight tremor in his breath was impossible to ignore.

“You have... chocolate here,” he said finally, his voice hoarse and low, as if the words were struggling to come out. He pointed to the corner of your lips, but his hand lingered in the air for a moment, unsure if he should move.

You tilted your head slightly, the smile on your face barely hiding the provocation. “Here, where?”

Dave seemed to be fighting with himself internally, but then, as if summoning sudden courage, he leaned in even closer. His hand moved slowly, hesitantly, and his fingers touched the corner of your mouth gently, wiping away the chocolate residue.

The gesture lasted only a second, but it was enough to ignite the air between you. The touch was soft, but the intensity in his gaze while doing it was almost overwhelming. He tried to pull his hand away quickly, but you held his wrist, stopping him from going too far.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice low and heavy with something you knew he understood perfectly. His thumb still brushed your skin, almost involuntarily, and his fingers remained where they were, creating an undeniable connection.

Dave opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His eyes were locked on yours, as if searching for something — or perhaps waiting for a sign. The silence was as thick as the tension between you, and the movie continued in the background, completely ignored.

You let go of his wrist, but didn’t move your hand. Dave hesitated for another moment before moving again. His thumb slid slowly, almost reluctantly, across the corner of your lips, as if he wanted to be sure there was no more chocolate left. But his gaze said the gesture meant much more.

“All set,” he said, but the word sounded strangled, almost as if he had to force it out.

“Are you sure?” you asked, leaning in just a bit more, your voice soft but carrying that challenging tone.

“I... think so,” he answered, almost in a whisper, his eyes dropping quickly to your mouth before returning to yours.

The space between you was so small now that just one move would bring you together. Dave seemed to be holding his breath, and the way he pressed his hands against his lap showed just how hard he was fighting something. But the way he looked at you — like it was impossible to look away — betrayed that he was holding on by a thread.

You tilted your head slightly to the side, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “It’s okay, Dave. No need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” he immediately retorted, but the blush creeping up his cheeks and ears told a different story.

“Oh, really?” you teased, your fingers moving to lightly touch his arm, sliding along the sleeve of his sweatshirt almost absentmindedly.

Dave chuckled softly, but didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, as if trying to gather the courage to do or say something. When you stopped touching his arm, his fingers moved almost reflexively, gently resting on yours, as if he wanted to keep the contact.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he murmured, his eyes still locked on yours. There was a desperate tone in his voice, but at the same time, he seemed completely fascinated.

“Maybe,” you replied, leaning in just enough for your faces to be inches apart. “And you?”

Dave blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could do was stare at you, his blue eyes shining with something between desire and doubt. It was as if he were frozen, his thoughts racing at high speed as he struggled to find something to say.

You could feel his breath, short and almost shaky, mingling with yours. Dave’s eyes didn’t stray for even a second, and the way he was so focused on you made it feel like the rest of the world didn’t exist. His chest rose and fell, the nervousness evident in every little movement.

You broke the silence. Your voice came out softly, almost as if the words had slipped out before you could stop them.

“I know we’re just friends...” you started, the phrase hanging in the air for a moment, as if you wanted to make sure he was listening. “But I would kiss you if you asked.”

His reaction was immediate. Dave blinked quickly, as if shocked, and his parted lips froze. He seemed like he wanted to respond, but the words were stuck in his throat. You saw his hands move slightly, as if he were about to do something, but he froze, his gaze becoming even more intense.

“Are you... serious?” he finally managed to ask, his voice hoarse and hesitant. He tilted his head slightly, as if needing to confirm that he had heard right.

You shrugged, a soft, teasing smile playing on your lips. “Looks like you’ll have to find out.”

Dave’s eyes briefly dropped to your mouth before returning to yours, and the way he bit his lower lip made your heart race. He seemed torn, as if fighting against the barrier that had existed between you — the barrier that until now was the certainty that you were just friends.

“I…” he began, but stopped, his fingers absently tracing the steering wheel as if he needed something to hold onto. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“I do.” Your voice was firm, but there was a sweetness in the way you spoke, an attempt to reassure him. You leaned in a little closer, enough for your knees to press against his again, and gently placed your hand over his.

Dave held his breath at the touch, and his eyes fixed on your hand for a moment before looking back at you. “I... I don’t want to ruin anything,” he murmured, but the hesitation in his voice revealed that he was on the verge of giving in.

You smiled, a small, confident smile, but there was something vulnerable in it too. “What if it doesn’t ruin anything? What if it’s exactly what needed to happen?”

Dave seemed incapable of processing what you were saying. He was so close now that it would take just a move from you to close the distance between you. And as he stared at you, as if trying to decide what to do, you saw determination slowly rising on his face.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, almost in a whisper, the words laden with sincerity and something deeper.

The silence between you was louder than any sound around you. It felt as if the entire world had stopped at that moment, waiting to see what the next step would be. You could feel the tension growing with each passing second, and the proximity was so electrifying that it made your skin tingle.

“Then kiss me, Dave,” you murmured, your eyes locked with his, not looking away. “Unless you prefer me to take the lead.”

He laughed softly, nervously, but there was something more in the laugh. Something that showed he was finally giving in. “You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low, but full of affection.

And then he leaned in, hesitant at first, as if checking if it was really allowed, but the hesitation lasted only a moment. When his lips finally met yours, the touch was gentle, almost shy, but quickly became something more intense, more sincere, as if he were pouring everything he had kept inside for so long into the kiss.

The world around you disappeared completely. All that existed was the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers found their way to the back of your neck, holding you as if afraid you might disappear. And when you leaned in even closer, deepening the kiss, it was as if something had finally clicked into place.

When you separated, breathless, Dave’s eyes still shone with that mixture of nervousness and euphoria. He laughed softly, but it was an uncertain sound, as if he were still trying to process what had just happened. Resting his forehead against yours for a moment, he whispered, almost out of breath:

“So... friends?”

The hesitation in his voice was evident. It was as if he were trying to gauge the situation, figure out how far he could go without crossing an invisible line he didn’t even know existed. His fingers, still resting on your neck, traced a small, nervous circle, as if even without realizing it, he was seeking something to hold on to.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes fixed on his, and raised an eyebrow with a small smile on your lips. The kind of smile that could either reassure him or make him even more anxious.

“Is that what you want?” you asked, your voice low and carrying something that made his breath hitch for a second.

Dave blinked, surprised by your direct question. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, he seemed unsure of what to say. But then you saw something change. Doubt gave way to quiet determination, as if he were finally willing to be honest with himself and with you.

“No.” The word slipped out before he could hold it back, but he didn’t retreat. On the contrary, he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “No, that’s not what I want.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you let his words hang between you, feeling the weight of them. The silence that followed was almost palpable, but not uncomfortable. It was full of possibilities, full of what you both knew was coming.

“Then what do you want, Dave?” you murmured, leaning in a little more, enough for your lips to almost touch his again.

He swallowed hard, his gaze briefly dropping to your mouth before returning to your eyes. “I want you,” he finally said, his voice coming out as a whisper, but filled with so much sincerity that it seemed to echo in the small space of the car.

His confession made your heart race, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. He seemed so vulnerable, but at the same time so sure, as if he had just laid all his cards on the table.

“And you’ve got me,” you replied, the softness in your voice contrasting with the intensity of the moment.

His eyes softened, but the desire still shone in them. As if to test the waters, he moved the hand that had been on your neck, tracing a slow path to your cheek. His touch was so careful it almost seemed reverent, but there was something in his fingers — a slight tremble, perhaps? — that showed just how much he was feeling.

“I think I’ve always wanted this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

“And why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, your voice coming out softer than you meant.

He laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Because I thought you’d never see me like this. I mean, look at you...” He stopped, the sentence unfinished, but the look in his eyes said it all.

“And look at you,” you shot back, a smile forming as you leaned even closer. “I think you underestimated how much I see you, Dave.”

He seemed stunned, but before he could say anything, you took the initiative this time. Your lips met his again, and the kiss was anything but hesitant. It was as if all the nervousness, all the doubt, had disappeared. The intensity was palpable, and the way he responded to the kiss, his hands firmly on your waist, showed that he too was determined not to hold anything back anymore.

When you finally pulled apart again, breathless and even closer, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t want to be just your friend anymore,” he admitted, almost like a confession, but with the firmness of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.

“Good,” you replied, a soft but teasing smile on your lips, “because I don’t want to be just your friend anymore either.”

Dave laughed, the tension easing a little, but there was still an electricity in the air. He gently ran his thumb along the line of your jaw, the touch so soft it almost felt like a whisper.

“Does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want now?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and genuine hope.

“It means you should,” you replied, leaning in again, leaving no room for doubt.

The kiss that followed was even slower, deeper, as if each movement was a silent promise. Dave seemed to lose any trace of hesitation, his hands finding their way to your waist, holding you firmly but still with that care that seemed to be so characteristic of him. The car, small and cramped, became a space where you needed nothing else but each other.

The sound of the movie continued in the background, but you both no longer paid attention. It was almost comical that Back to the Future was playing in front of you while you were creating a new moment, one that no one but the two of you could witness.

“I can’t believe we paid for this just to ignore the movie,” you murmured against his lips, your voice full of provocation.

He laughed, his forehead still resting against yours, as his fingers slid along your back in distracted touches, but ones that sent shocks through your skin. “I think I’ve never been more grateful for not paying attention to something,” he replied, with a smile that lit up his blue eyes.

You smiled, running your hands along his shoulders, your fingers tracing the outline of the collar of the t-shirt he was wearing. “And you don’t want to watch it after all?”

“Not even a little,” he answered immediately, leaning in to kiss you again, more briefly this time, but still enough to leave no doubt. “I prefer this.”

The heat building between you made the space even tighter, more intimate. He shifted a little, adjusting so you could be even closer, his arm slipping behind you, while your head rested on his shoulder. It was almost ridiculous how natural it felt to be this way, as if you belonged to each other and hadn’t realized it until now.

You looked at him, your faces so close that it was impossible not to notice the rosy tint on his cheeks, the shine in his eyes that said more than any words could. And when he spoke again, his voice was so soft it seemed like a secret.

“I don’t know how it took me so long to figure this out. You... are everything.”

The intensity of the sentence made your chest tighten in a good way, as if something had finally clicked into place. You didn’t need to respond immediately, because his hands were holding yours now, fingers intertwined as if he wanted to make sure you were there, that this was real.

“Dave,” you whispered, the word heavy with emotion, “if this means we’ll have more nights like this... then please, keep taking so long to figure things out.”

He laughed, a soft, carefree sound, before leaning in to kiss you again.

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annscollections · 2 days ago

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[ HERE ] you’ll find 350 gifs of Aaron Taylor Johnson in the movie, Kraven: The Hunter. I hope that these gifs can be useful to someone. You can find my rules here. Suffice it to say that I ask that the time I spent making these be respected and that the fc himself be respected. Please note that these gifs contain semi-nudity and depictions of violence, injury, blood, semi nudity, food, and drinking. If you’d like to, please consider donating to my ko-fi. Enjoy!

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson gifs #aaron taylor johnson gif pack #aaron taylor johnson gif hunt #res / gifs #gifsociety #thegifpackreblogs #supportcontentcreators #fcxdirectory #gifpackshq #userdevon

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vitori4na · 1 day ago

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Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Sergei Kravinoff in Kraven The Hunter

#aaron taylor johnson #atj #aaron johnson #kraven the hunter

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sweetangelprincessgirl · 2 days ago

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Ellen (behind the scenes)

Nosferatu (2024)

#nosferatu #lily rose depp #ellen hutter #thomas hutter #robert eggers #aaron taylor johnson #horror #horror film #horror movies #vampires #letterboxd #fashion

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thevoicefromanotherworld · 3 days ago

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I suddenly forgot how to breathe

#sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter #aaron taylor johnson

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dancewithstars · 3 days ago

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#aaron taylor johnson

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annoyance-for-u · 1 hour ago

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Yearning looks good on this violent man

tangerine x fem!reader, fluff/comfort ♡

-tangerine has this habit of crawling back to you.

cw; soft!tangerine, this man yearns and he's not ashamed of that, tangerine being a bit dramatic, exes to lovers (?), title is from do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, kissing many many times, my first time writing for him- please let me know what you think

wc; 1.5k

CRAWLIN' BACK TO YOU

It's not healthy to do this every night, is it?

No, because Tangerine doesn't know how to stop and it bothers him. It bothers him more than Lemon's insistent talks about Thomas the Tank Engine, so this is serious. He's a strong man, but- you sigh in content and he's glad to be witnessing this.

He really should stop watching you sleep.

You look peaceful like this. Happy, blissfully unconscious. Your pretty lips let out tiny breaths and he swears he will collapse. Something squeezes his poor heart. He wants to be closer, you look warm but are you really warm? He wants to drag his fingers on your skin, to touch you like he used to. Stained fingers, red with blood. He washed them before coming here, but it doesn't matter. He'll never be pure enough to touch you.

"Pretty girl," he whispers in the dark. You don't hear him. He gets encouraged by that.

He takes a hesitant step towards your bed.

"Look at you, sleeping so deep," Tangerine whispers again. "Always in peace when I'm not here, aren't you?"

Technically he is here, but you don't know that, and that's all he cares. He doesn't try to be a creep, he's just in love. He swears this is the only reason why he keeps coming back to his ex's apartment. He promises this is the only reason why he lies to his brother as he crawls back to you.

His fingers ache to reach out and touch you.

If he could be a better man, he'd be in your arms right now. He'd be kissing your collarbones and his rings would collide nicely with the soft fabric of your tank top. He's a coward, really. He's glad you're the only one who knows this side of him. It would be terrible for his job options otherwise.

You take another breath. Tangerine watches the softness of your cheeks move when you curl your lips in your sleep. You must be dreaming. He hopes you see him being good for you in your dream. Being the man he never could be in reality.

He really should stop using the keys you gave him months ago.

"I wish I could be-" he starts saying some stupid shit again. Oh, come on. He rolls his eyes at himself. "Pathetic. I'm being pathetic."

"You really are," you turn to your side. Fuck. Tangerine flinches.

"Wha- Fuck me-" he takes a step back. You were sleeping two seconds ago. He's shy all of a sudden as if he's not the man who keeps coming back to his ex after breaking up with her by saying 'you deserve better, love'.

You blink, looking so exhausted as you do that. Leaning on your elbows, you look up to him. His hair is messed up, his blue eyes are wide open. It's a good look on him. Objectively.

"You really did think I wasn't aware of you coming back here every night, didn't you?"

"Um- then why did you-"

"You really are being pathetic, Tangerine," you say. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"No, of course not-"

"I know you still have the keys," you say. "I knew you'd use them at some point, you never offered to give them back."

Tangerine finally manages to close his mouth. Clever girl, aren't you? He feels poorly, now that he can't call you his.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asks.

You blink a few times. "I waited for you to say something first."

"Sorry to disappoint, love," he says, genuine this time. "I've been acting too cowardly around you."

You sigh, you really want to sleep. You wish he could just stop with this pity party and come to bed. Silent promises ring in your head, you want him back. He kept saying he's doing it for you, breaking up because he doesn't want you to get hurt. He swears even telling you what he does for living was the toughest shit he'd ever gone through. Who wants a guy like him anyway?

"Will you please- come here? Let's just talk about this in the morning, I'm so tired."

He blinks a few times. You have a death wish, don't you? Why the hell would you want him to get close if you don't?

"It's 'cause I know you still love me," you answer. Shit, he asked it out loud. "I know you're trying to make a stupid decision for both of us, still, but tonight I want none of that. Come here."

You pat the empty spot next to you and Tangerine obeys. He has no choice, his entire body feels like it's on fire with the distance between you. He takes off his suit jacket, lets himself be bare in front of you just like how you always want him. No unnecessary clothes in bed, you once said. I want to know you're here.

He lies next to you hesitantly. For a brave man, he's acting pretty fearful tonight. You wrap your arm around his chest, your fingers touch his skin as you draw a small circle right there.

Tangerine takes a breath. It's good, being here. He finally feels like he's where he belongs. You snuggle closer to him, always the bold one in the relationship. Many would expect it to be different, he knows, but he feels entirely yours and this is something he can't explain. He'd let you do anything you want, if you want to cuddle him, kiss him in public, or snuggle to his chest like a cat, so be it. He wraps an arm around you.

"Oh," he breathes. You smell wonderful. "My girl."

Fuck, he missed this. He melts right there, how can he be stupid enough to let you go? He turns to his side to hold you better, you put your head to the curve of his neck. His cologne hits you like an old memory, but that's nonsense. You never let him go.

"Missed this," he says. "Missed you."

"You're an idiot."

"That's what I am."

You tangle your legs with his, he kisses his way on your neck all the way to your shoulder. You close your eyes, let yourself be okay now that he's here. He can finally admit that he never left, he couldn't do that if he tried. He yearns for this, for every bit of affection he can have.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. He doesn't think he can wait until the morning to tell you this. You must know how sorry he is for even trying to go out of your life, how desperate he's been since the day he told you he wants to break up. How angry he made Lemon (even Lemon) because he's been a restless bastard and he doesn't even know what he's doing. "I'm so sorry."

You lift your head to see his eyes. Under the soft moonlight in your room, they sparkle. Just a deep blue, you've always loved his eyes. He's genuine and he's only a man. He looks like he can beg for forgiveness on his knees.

"It's okay," you say gently. No need for arguments, the bed is warm and he's here. You'll find the right time to talk about this. For now, though, you choose to put your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

Tangerine kisses your head. You like having shower before bed and he can smell your shampoo. He holds your hand under the covers and slides his hips to get closer to you. The pillows are soft and inviting beneath his head, he closes his eyes.

"Will you stay for breakfast?" you ask. He can stay forever if you want. Fuck, yearning turned him into a fucking romantic.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asks instead.

"Yes," you reply, getting closer to his pulse point. You put a small kiss on the tiny spot under his ear. He lets out a quiet hiss when you bite there playfully.

"Or maybe I should crawl back here with flowers in my hand," he says, adjusting his neck to give you more space to kiss. He can feel you smile against him.

"You really should," you tell him. "Later. Not tomorrow."

Your sound unsure. Hesitant with your loving as if he scared you. He did, though, didn't he? Tangerine is a man of sin and he really needs to atone for some of them.

"I'm not gonna leave," he promises. "Not again."

You nod, his loving girl. You could give him hell, but you're exhausted. He tightens his arm around you and lets you settle down on him.

Your breath is nice to feel against his neck. Tangerine relaxes. You fall asleep in the next minute or so, he isn't sure when. He just knows that this feels like home, and he'd been the biggest fool in the history for trying to leave it as if he actually could. He has to get you those flowers just as soon as he can.

#violent men look so pretty when they beg #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fanfiction #bullet train #bullet train fanfiction #tangerine imagine #bullet train fic #bullet train imagine #aaron taylor johnson

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moonlight-joy · 2 days ago

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Sharp Eyes, Sharper Tongues

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: Sergei catches you watching him train and challenges you to prove yourself. Despite his teasing and impressive skills, he offers to teach you, guiding you with patience and confidence. As you improve, playful banter gives way to a deeper connection, solidifying your bond in a moment of trust and shared understanding.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

“Like what you see?” Sergei’s voice, low and teasing, broke the silence, pulling you from your thoughts. You blinked, realizing you’d been staring—not that he seemed to mind. If anything, the small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips suggested he relished it.

He stood in the center of the clearing, the sun glinting off his bare skin. Sweat glistened along the sharp contours of his muscles, evidence of the morning’s rigorous training session. His dark hair was tousled, damp strands clinging to his forehead, and his piercing gaze locked onto yours with unshakable intensity.

“Caught me,” you admitted, your voice light but carrying a hint of challenge. Two could play his game. “You’re not exactly subtle, Sergei.”

His smirk widened as he crossed the distance between you in a few long strides. He stopped just short of crowding your space, towering over you in that effortlessly intimidating way of his. “And what, exactly, did you find so fascinating?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice a rumbling purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

You refused to back down, meeting his gaze head-on. “Maybe it was the way you move,” you said, lifting an eyebrow. “Or maybe it was the fact that you’re out here showing off again.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Showing off? Is that what you think this is?” He gestured to the open space around him, where the remnants of his training lay scattered: a weighted spear buried in a tree trunk, stones upturned from his footwork drills, and a knife stuck neatly in the center of a bullseye carved into wood.

“What else would you call it?” you countered, a playful lilt in your tone.

Sergei leaned closer, his grin taking on a more mischievous edge. “Perhaps it’s a demonstration,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “for your benefit.”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your composure. “A demonstration? Of what? Your ability to stab a tree or your talent for dramatic flair?”

He laughed again, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze fixed on you. “You have a sharp tongue, little one,” he said. “Careful where you aim it.”

“Is that a threat?” you asked, your lips curving into a small smile.

“A challenge,” he corrected, his eyes glinting. “If you think you can do better, prove it.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the knife embedded in the target. “You’re serious?”

Sergei shrugged, stepping aside and gesturing grandly to the makeshift range. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You rolled your eyes but moved to retrieve the knife. The weight of it felt unfamiliar in your hand as you approached the target. Sergei stood off to the side, watching you with an expression that was equal parts amusement and curiosity.

Taking a steadying breath, you squared your stance and threw. The blade sailed through the air, spinning once before thudding into the wood… about six inches from the bullseye.

“Not bad,” Sergei said, his tone annoyingly casual. “For a first attempt.”

You turned to him, arching an eyebrow. “Careful, Sergei. Your smugness is showing.”

He chuckled, walking over to stand beside you. “Allow me,” he said, plucking another knife from the ground. He positioned himself in front of the target, his movements fluid and precise. With a flick of his wrist, the blade flew through the air, embedding itself dead center in the bullseye.

“Show-off,” you muttered under your breath.

He turned to you, his grin wide and unapologetic. “Merely a demonstration,” he said, echoing his earlier words.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine. Teach me, then. If you’re so good at this, show me how to do it properly.”

Sergei’s expression shifted, a flicker of genuine interest replacing his playful arrogance. “All right,” he said, stepping closer. He reached for your hand, adjusting your grip on the knife. His touch was warm, steady, and impossibly confident.

“Relax your wrist,” he instructed, his voice low and patient. “Focus on your target, not the knife. Let the throw come from your whole arm, not just your hand.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way his closeness made your heart race. Following his guidance, you raised the knife and threw again. This time, the blade landed just outside the center ring of the target.

“Better,” Sergei said, a note of approval in his tone. “But you’re hesitating. Don’t overthink it.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered. “You’ve probably been doing this since you could walk.”

He smirked, stepping back to give you space. “Perhaps. But everyone starts somewhere. Even me.”

His words, while simple, carried a weight that surprised you. You glanced over at him, seeing past the cocky exterior to the man underneath—a man who’d honed his skills through years of discipline and hardship.

Taking a deep breath, you tried again. This time, the knife struck the edge of the bullseye. You turned to Sergei, a triumphant smile on your face.

“Not bad,” he said, his lips twitching into a grin. “Though you’ve still got a long way to go if you want to match me.”

“Oh, I’ll get there,” you replied confidently. “Just you wait.”

Sergei chuckled, his gaze warm as he watched you retrieve the knife. “I’ll be here,” he said, the playful challenge in his voice replaced by something softer.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the two of you continued practicing, laughter and banter filling the clearing. For a moment, the weight of the world faded away, leaving only the connection between you and Sergei, unspoken but undeniable.

#kraven #kraven the hunter #kraven x reader #kraven movie #kraven x you #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter movie #kraven the hunter x reader #aaron taylor johnson #aarontaylorjohnson

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gingerteafairy · 2 days ago

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PLEASE could you do a 'your camera roll if you were dating tangerine' thank yewww x

absolutely yessss x

⋆ ˚★. pov: your camera roll dating tangerine ˚★⋆｡

Your phone’s safe until he gets curious—then it’s selfie time and a free reminder to watch your things (or someone like him and lemon might walk away with it.)

#tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #x reader #reader insert #imagine #aaron taylor johnson x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train

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nihillismos · 4 hours ago

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THIS.

when i'm watching any aaron taylor johnson movie and i get to the scene where he's crying and his big blue eyes are red and wet and beautiful

#aaron taylor johnson

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cinematicjourney · 5 hours ago

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Nosferatu (2024) | dir. Robert Eggers

#nosferatu #robert eggers #lily rose depp #bill skarsgård #nicholas hoult #aaron taylor johnson #ralph ineson #emma corrin #willem dafoe #films #movies #cinematography #scenery #screencaps

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ikkyfics · 3 days ago

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Deer Plush

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: In which James Potter, determined to impress you, takes on a shooting game at a carnival, all for a deer plush that made you smile.

Warnings: muggle!au, fluffy, est. relationship

Masterlist

The amusement park was wrapped in a golden glow under the late afternoon sun. Laughter echoed all around, mixed with the sounds of the attractions and the vibrant music playing through the speakers. You and James walked side by side, your fingers intertwined as if the touch were the most natural thing in the world. And it was.

You’d already explored practically everything — from the ferris wheel, where he’d joked that the wind was trying to ruin his impeccable hairstyle, to the haunted house, where you offered to hold his hand when James paled after a particularly scary jump scare, and though he didn’t confess his fear, it was clear by the way he squeezed your fingers.

Now, you walked leisurely through the park, laughing and sharing small moments that seemed to exist only between the two of you. It was then that your eyes stopped at a target-shooting booth, and your face lit up. At the top of one of the shelves, a deer plush seemed to wave at you. It was big, with bright, friendly eyes, and something about it immediately enchanted you.

James noticed right away. He always did — how your eyes sparkled at simple things, how your smile could change his whole day. He followed your gaze to the plush and already knew what he had to do.

“Want to try this game?” he asked, already sporting that mischievous smile you knew so well.

“I don’t know if you’re good enough for it, Potter,” you teased, raising an eyebrow, your tone challenging, but the sweetness in your smile made it clear you were enjoying yourself.

“Oh, is that so? I’ll show you that you’re dating the best shooter... at least on the east side of the park.” He laughed, pulling you by the hand toward the booth.

The person running the booth quickly explained the rules, but James was already focused — his blue eyes shining behind his glasses and that determined air he used to display when he wanted to impress you.

The first attempt was disastrous. He aimed, released the ball, and it missed by a mile, hitting the side of the booth with a hollow sound. You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh, but it escaped anyway, and James turned to you with a mock-indignant expression.

“Laughing at me, huh?”

“A little.”

He laughed along and shook his head but didn’t give up. James had that charming stubbornness of someone who wanted, above all, to make you smile. He grabbed another ball, took a deep breath, and aimed again. This time, he hit one of the smaller targets, but it was still far from the grand prize.

“It’s okay if you want to give up…” you teased, leaning slightly toward him, your voice carrying a playful tone. But as you said this, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him — all focused, his dark hair tousled as if it were part of the sunlight, the glasses sliding slightly down his nose. He pushed them back with his finger, his forehead furrowed in determination, and you felt a comforting warmth in your chest. James had that peculiar ability to make anything seem extraordinary.

He turned to you with that mischievous smile you loved, his blue eyes sparkling behind the lenses.

“Give up? No way. That’s not how this works.”

Before grabbing another ball, he hesitated, tilting his head slightly as he watched you closely. You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was plotting.

“Actually...” He stepped closer, reducing the distance between you, and his voice became deliberately casual. “I think I need a little help here.”

“Help?” You tried to sound skeptical, but the softness in his smile melted your defenses before they even had a chance to rise.

“Yes. A good luck kiss.” He leaned in closer, letting the words hang in the air between you, filled with carefree charm.

You felt your cheeks warm and laughed, shaking your head. “Isn’t that a little unfair? Using magic like that against the poor target?”

James placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be indignant. “Unfair would be not giving me the best chance possible, considering I’m doing this for you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile he knew so well, the one that said you wouldn’t resist much longer. Finally, you stood on your tiptoes, cupped his face with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

James sighed dramatically when you pulled away. “I think I can do this now.”

You crossed your arms, feigning impatience. “Let’s see if that kiss was really so miraculous, Potter.”

He picked up the next ball with an expression completely renewed, concentration mixed with a happiness that seemed to radiate from him. But you kept watching, not caring so much about the game. It was the way he slightly furrowed his brow as he aimed, the gleam of excitement when he thought he was close to hitting the target, the way he bit the inside of his cheek in an almost childish gesture. You were so absorbed in him that you almost forgot to pay attention to the moment he launched the ball and hit the target.

The bell rang, and James raised his arms as if he had just won a world championship. He turned to you with the biggest smile in the world, and the heart in your throat only confirmed what you already knew: you were absolutely lost for him.

“I told you!” He walked over to you, holding the plush deer the attendant handed him, but stopped before passing it to you, pulling it close to his chest as if he were already completely attached to the prize.

“James.” You narrowed your eyes, trying to hide the growing smile. “Give it to me.”

He shook his head, his blue eyes gleaming with pure mischief. “I don’t know... I think this little guy already likes me.”

You huffed, but the laugh that escaped your lips betrayed any attempt at seriousness. “Potter, I’m serious. Hand it over.”

He tilted his head, pretending to ponder. “Hmm, I don’t know if I can. He reminds me a lot of someone I know. Charming, impressive, impossible to resist...”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer, grabbing the deer with a quick motion. He released it without resistance, letting you hug it against your chest, victorious. However, James’s smile didn’t fade.

“Thank you, Jamie,” you said, lowering your eyes to the plush in your arms. It was a simple deer, with large expressive eyes and a curious expression. You hugged it a little tighter, smiling more than you intended.

James crossed his arms and watched you with a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “So? Was it worth all my heroic effort?”

You looked up at him, feeling an inexplicable warmth take over you. “Yeah, it was.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you continued, the words coming out before you could stop them. “Because it reminds me of you.”

James paused for a moment, clearly caught off guard. His smile softened, and his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. “Reminds you... of me?”

You nodded, squeezing the deer one more time and trying to keep your voice casual, even with your heart beating faster than usual. “Yeah... He’s kind of awkward, but has this adorable way about him, you know? And it’s impossible not to like him.”

He was silent for a moment, but then took a step closer, so close that his warmth seemed to envelop you. “If you think a deer is adorable, then I’m done for.”

You let out a giggle, but didn’t have time to respond because James lowered his head, his lips touching yours in a kiss so sweet and delicate that it felt like it was made of sunlight and the warmth of the moment.

When he pulled away, you saw the smile that always seemed reserved only for you — a smile that made every cell in your body feel special. He took your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours as if it was the natural place for both of you.

“I’d do all of this again,” he said, squeezing your hand lightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Because seeing you happy like this is worth every second.”

You looked at him, at his shining eyes, his sincere smile, and knew that James Potter would always be much more than you could have imagined.

And as you walked through the park, with the plush deer firm in your arms and his hand in yours, the world seemed exactly as it should be: perfect, simple, and full of love.

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