#dimitry kravinoff x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamesmcalover · 4 months ago

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entangled - pt 1

Dimitri Kravinoff x Reader

Warnings: slight angst maybe?? vulnerability, Dimitri is inecure & has daddy issues :(

Summary: Reader was hired to steal something from Dimitri Kravinoff - Part 2

5.2k words

Breaking into a place like this wasn't supposed to be hard.

Y/N crouched by the door of Dmitri Kravinoff's apartment, her lockpicks glinting faintly in the dim hallway light. The silence of the building was oppressive, almost too quiet, but that was exactly how she liked it. The faint smell of expensive leather and something else – something musky, like cigar smoke – hung in the air.

The information her boss had given her was frustratingly vague, just that Dmitri, the youngest Kravinoff, was in possession of an artifact that could 'change the game.' All she'd been told was that it was a 'special knife.' Why it mattered wasn't her concern.

Her job was simple: get in, grab it, and get out. Something she'd done countless times before, slipping into the shadows, taking what wasn't hers, and slipping out without leaving a trace. She'd never failed.

The lock clicked open, and Y/N slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. The place was dark but far from empty. Moonlight spilled through half-drawn curtains, casting shadows on bookshelves, a cluttered desk, and a mounted map on the wall. It was nicer than she'd expected, but it didn't feel like a home.

She found the knife easily enough, displayed in a glass case above the fireplace. There, resting on a velvet cushion, was the knife. It shined in the dim light. The Kravinoff crest engraved on the handle caught her eye, and she frowned. She'd expected something a little less… personal.

Doesn't matter, she reminded herself. Her fingers were already outstretched, reaching for the display case. Just another job. Nothing more.

The lights flicked on.

Y/N spun, her hand instinctively moving toward the small blade strapped to her thigh. But Dmitri, so she thought, was already there, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a faint smirk on his face, but the way his hands trembled slightly gave him away.

"You know," he said, his voice low and even, "I'd ask how you got in, but I’m more curious about why you thought you'd get out."

Y/N took a step back, already calculating her next move. "I don't want any trouble, Dimitri," she said, trying to keep her tone even. She wasn't sure why, but there was something unsettling about him. His hands were clenched tight, and there was an edge of desperation in his eyes.

His smirk faltered, and for a moment, his guard dropped. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he stepped forward with jerky movements, as if trying to command some authority that wasn’t there. "Who are you?" His voice cracked, and his jaw tightened. He clearly wasn't used to this.

Y/N took a step to the side, ready to dodge around him. Dimitri flinched, but before she could move, he grabbed for her arm, not with the strength of someone who had planned this out, but with the panic of someone desperate to stop her. She easily twisted out of his grip.

"I can't let you leave. Not with-," he said, voice tight. He wasn't fighting with confidence, but with an almost erratic energy, like he was terrified of what might happen if she escaped. His fear wasn’t just physical, it was as if he was holding on to this moment for some other reason.

Y/N hesitated. This wasn't the Dimitri she had expected. She had assumed he would be like the rest of his family. Cold, calculated, a master of control. But here he was, vulnerable and unsteady.

With a sudden, desperate lunge, he reached for her. His movements were jagged and uncoordinated, more out of panic than control. She instinctively stepped back to dodge, but he caught her arm, pulling her toward him with an almost frantic energy.

She tried to twist away, but Dimitri's grip was tighter now, and in a blur of motion, they both went tumbling to the ground. The air was knocked from her lungs as they crashed, and for a split second, everything seemed to slow. But then the edge of a table slammed against the side of her head.

A sharp pain exploded in her skull, and everything went black.

When Y/N's eyes fluttered open again, she was groggy, disoriented. Her head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing with each heartbeat. The world around her was a blur, but she could just make out the dim light of the apartment, the faint scent of leather and smoke still lingering.

It took a moment to register the feeling of rough rope cutting into her wrists.

Dimitri was sitting across the room, picking at the skin on his fingers nervously. He seemed less the confident figure from before, more like someone desperately trying to keep it together.

Y/N tested the ropes around her wrists, her mind clearing faster now. She was in a tight spot, but this wasn't a total loss yet.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Y/N" Dimitri said without turning his head to face her, his voice firm but not unkind. Y/N frowned slightly, almost unnoticeable, when he mentioned her name. He found out who you were. "But you shouldn't be here."

Y/N smirked, even as she flexed her wrists against the ropes. "Did you really think tying me up would stop me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're not exactly in control here, Dimitri."

He stopped at that, his shoulders stiffening, but he didn't respond right away. When he finally turned, his eyes met hers with a cold resolve. "I'm not trying to stop you from leaving. I'm trying to stop you from taking what's mine."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "The knife? You really think your father's going to notice you for this?" Her voice was softer now, probing.

Dimitri's expression faltered for a brief moment. Just a flicker, but it was there. Why did this woman know so much about his family? "I don't need his approval," he said, though his voice lacked the conviction it had earlier. "Who the fuck sent you?"

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, a silent standoff. Y/N's mind was racing, considering her options. She wasn't going to escape from the ropes without help, and she wouldn't give out information about the people who hired her so easily. She still needed that money she'd been promised.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with renewed interest. "You're not really going to keep me here forever, are you? I mean, we both know you don't want that. You don't want me tied up in your apartment," she said, ignoring his question.

His gaze flicked to the ropes around her wrists, and his jaw clenched. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, the internal battle playing out across his face.

He didn't answer right away, instead taking a step closer to her. The distance between them was still significant, but she could feel the weight of his attention, the way he studied her, as if trying to decide if he could trust her.

"I don't know," he admitted after a long pause. "I don't know what's worse. Letting you go or… keeping you here. But either way, I won't just give up the knife. It’s mine."

Before Y/N could respond, a loud knock echoed from the hallway, followed by the sound of footsteps. Dimitri's body stiffened, his eyes wide. He turned abruptly, his gaze locking on the door, panic flashing across his face.

Y/N's pulse quickened. Dimitri wasn't exactly subtle in his reaction, and she could tell that whoever was coming wasn't someone he wanted to see.

Dimitri quickly moved across the room, a frantic urgency in his steps. "You need to hide," he hissed under his breath, rushing toward her. "Now."

Before Y/N could even ask what was going on, Dimitri was untangling the ropes around her wrists, his hands quick but rough. "Move," he urged, not meeting her eyes. "I'll deal with this. You just- stay quiet."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. She could've run. He wasn't just afraid, he was terrified. But before she could say anything, he half-guided, half-shoved her toward another room. She didn't run.

"Stay in here. Don't make a sound," he whispered, practically shoving her into the room before quickly closing the door behind her.

Y/N stood still in the dark, her heart racing. She could hear Dimitri's footsteps retreating to the living room, just as the front door creaked open. She quickly glanced around the room. It was his bedroom. The big king-sized bed took in most of the space, the faint smell of expensive cologne and cigars lingered in the air, the same as it had in the living room. The windows were big with a great view over London, but the they were no escape; way too high and there was nothing to climb on outside.

There was no way out.

Y/N huffed, turning toward the door. She pressed herself against the wall, barely breathing.

"Dimitri," a voice drawled, deep, and unmistakable. Sergei. Dimitri's older brother.

Y/N could hear the clinking of metal, the sound of someone stepping into the living room she'd been tied up in a minute ago. Dimitri was standing nervously by the big marble table, trying to look casual, but his body language was stiff with tension.

"Sergei," Dimitri greeted, his voice too high-pitched. "What's up?"

There was an amused chuckle from the doorway as Sergei saw the ropes laying on the floor, clearly used. He sniffed the air, his eyes narrowing, his nose twitching. "I smell perfume."

Y/N held her breath now, too scared of giving herself away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," his younger brother said, and Sergei wasn't convinced, but he didn't seem to want to press. Instead, he gave Dimitri a long, sidelong glance and a toothy grin. "You know, I just wanted to check on you on your birthday but you seem like you're having fun. Just make sure it's all consensual."

Dimitri's face went bright red, his eyes darting to the ropes on the floor and then back to Sergei. "It's not-" he started, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat. "I mean, it's not what you think."

Sergei's grin widened, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. He leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "No need to explain, little brother. You're a grown man now. Who you bring into your home is none of my business."

Dimitri shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. Y/N, still pressed against the wall in the bedroom, bit back a smirk. She could practically hear the nervous energy radiating off Dimitri, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat. If this was how he usually handled himself, she could see why he was desperate to impress someone or anyone to be honest.

Sergei sniffed the air again, his brow furrowing slightly. He glanced around the apartment one last time, his gaze lingering on the ropes for just a beat longer than comfortable. "Well, happy birthday, Dima. Enjoy your… evening."

With that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

The moment Sergei was gone, Dimitri let out a long, shaky breath, leaning heavily against the table. He stayed like that for a moment, his head bowed, before he finally pushed himself upright and made his way back to the bedroom.

Y/N, now sitting on the side of her opponents bed, raised an eyebrow as he opened the door, his face still flushed. "So," she said, her voice dripping with amusement, "happy birthday."

Dimitri groaned, running a hand down his face. "Don't."

"Oh, come on," she teased, crossing her arms. "That was adorable. 'Just make sure it's all consensual.' Your brother thinks you're tying up your dates for fun."

"I said don't," Dimitri snapped, though the crack in his voice and the flush in his cheeks betrayed any attempt at authority. He turned his back to her, pacing a few steps into the room like he didn't know what to do with himself.

He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his head bowed, the flush of embarrassment still painting his cheeks. The air between them was thick with tension, and Y/N could see the cracks in his composure. This was a man teetering on the edge, caught between his desperation to prove himself and the weight of his insecurities.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him carefully. "You're really desperate to make daddy proud, are you?" She teased.

The words hit like a whip. His head turned slightly, just enough for her to see the muscle in his jaw tighten. When he faced her fully, his expression was caught somewhere between fury and humiliation. "Shut up. You don't know anything about me."

"Did I strike a nerve?" she asked, feigning innocence. She didn't back down, even when he took a step closer, his eyes darkening. "I know more about you and your little family than you think."

For a moment, Dimitri said nothing, just stared at her with a mixture of frustration and something else. Something more vulnerable. He stepped back suddenly, scrubbing his hands over his face as if trying to compose himself. "I didn't ask for this," he muttered. "Any of it."

Y/N tilted her head, intrigued. "Then why are you doing it?" she asked, softer now.

"Because I have to," Dimitri said quietly, as if the words cost him something. "You wouldn't understand."

Y/N let out a low laugh, shaking her head. "Try me."

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned sharply and left the room, leaving her alone. She considered making a break for it but dismissed the thought just as quickly. She heard Dimitri rummaging around in the other room, muttering under his breath. When he returned, he carried a glass of water and a small first-aid kit. He placed them both on the nightstand and glanced at her, still visibly conflicted.

"You hit your head. I don't need you bleeding all over my carpet," he said gesturing to the expensive looking white rug beneath his bed.

"Aw, you're so caring," she teased. "You're just full of surprises."

He rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he opened the kit and pulled out some antiseptic. She couldn't help but notice how his fingers trembled, though whether it was from nerves or something else, she couldn't tell.

"Why didn't you give me up to Sergei?" she asked suddenly, watching his face closely.

He froze, his hand hovering over the cotton swab. "What?"

"You could've sold me out. Told him I was here to steal your precious knife. Hell, you could've made me out to be some assassin sent to take you out, and I bet he would've believed you. But you didn't." She leaned forward, her gaze narrowing. "Why?"

Dimitri avoided her eyes, his jaw tightening as he busied himself with the cotton swab. He dabbed at it with antiseptic, the sharp scent filling the air.

"I didn't do it for you," he muttered, finally meeting her gaze, though his expression was guarded. "If Sergei knew why you were here, it'd be more than just my problem. He'd take over, and then my father would find out. And I…" He hesitated, the words seeming to catch in his throat. "…I can't let that happen."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So this is about you, then? Self-preservation?"

He flinched at her tone, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "You don't understand," he snapped, but there was no anger in his voice. Just frustration, layered over something deeper. "If my father finds out I let someone break in here, I'm done. This is my one chance to prove I'm not… worthless."

His voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, Y/N saw past the posturing and panic to the insecurity he tried so hard to hide.

"Prove you're not worthless by what? Guarding a knife?" she asked, her tone softer now. "Seems like a pretty low bar."

Dimitri scoffed, shaking his head. "You wouldn't get it. My father doesn't care about anything but power, control, appearances. If I can't do this one thing right…" He trailed off, his hands gripping the first-aid kit as if it were the only thing grounding him.

Y/N watched him in silence, piecing together the picture of a man who was just as trapped as she was. Though by very different circumstances.

"Well," she said finally, her voice light but not unkind, "if it makes you feel any better, you did technically stop me." She smirked, gesturing to her still-sore head.

Dimitri's lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly smothered it. "You don't know when to shut up, do you?" He had almost forgotten to patch up her wound. The blood was slowly drying up, as he slowly dabbed the cotton pad around her temple to clean it up. Y/N scrunched her face up in pain when he alcohol seeped into the small cut. She could've easily fought him now. But she didn't, and Dimitri asked himself why. For a moment, he focused on her wound, dabbing carefully despite the slight tremor in his hands. The silence between them felt heavy, filled with unspoken questions and tension neither of them seemed ready to address. He avoided her gaze, keeping his attention on the task as if it were the most important thing in the world.

She smirked, but there was something softer in her expression now. Something almost curious. She could feel his hands trembling, could see the way his eyes darted to her face when he thought she wasn't looking. He was scared. Of her, maybe, but also of whatever was going on in his own head.

Y/N took a deep breath, the words forming carefully in her mind. "Take me to him."

Dimitri froze, his expression a mix of shock and suspicion. "What?"

"You need proof, right?" she continued, keeping her tone even. "Proof that you can protect what's yours. That you're not just some screw-up who let a thief waltz in and take it. If you bring me to him – alive, empty-handed – you'll have a trophy. Evidence that you stopped me."

Dimitri stared at her, his brows furrowing as he processed her words. "Why would you do that?" he asked, his voice low and cautious. "Why would you help me?"

"I'm not helping you," she said quickly. "I'm helping myself. We make a deal."

"A deal?" He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"I need money," she said bluntly. "Since I'm not getting it for a failed mission, here's a pitch: you tell your father I broke in, but I didn't find anything because you stopped me before I could take the knife. You get your moment of spotlight and I walk away with cash. From you."

Dimitri's expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he stared at her like she'd just offered him a poisoned chalice. "You think my father's going to be proud of me me for letting a thief break into my apartment? For showing up with you instead of throwing you in some ditch?"

Y/N smirked, tilting her head. "He might. If you frame it right. I didn't let her break in; I stopped her. She didn't get the knife. I captured her, proved I'm not useless." Her voice dropped an octave, mimicking a deep, commanding tone. "You'd look like a hero, wouldn't you?"

Dimitri shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting at the hem of his sleeve. She could see the flicker of doubt, the hesitation, and maybe, just maybe, a hint of hope behind his eyes.

"I don't need your help to prove myself," he muttered, his voice lacking conviction.

Y/N leaned forward, her voice low and confident. "Oh, but you do. Because I know you, Dimitri. You're not like him. You don't have his power or Sergei's ruthlessness. But you have this-" she gestured toward herself, "and if you play it smart, you might finally get his attention."

His lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, he looked away, jaw clenched, the internal battle playing out across his face.

"And what if he doesn't care?" Dimitri finally asked, his tone sharp but brittle. "What if he laughs in my face and says I'm still a screw-up? What happens then?"

Y/N shrugged, keeping her expression neutral. "That's not my problem. You get me the money we agree on, and I disappear. Whatever happens between you and Daddy Dearest after that? That's on you."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms defensively. "How much?"

"Sixty thousand."

His eyes widened. "Sixty- are you insane?"

"Twice as much as I was offered," she said with a shrug, unfazed. "I figure someone like you can afford it. Or are you telling me the youngest Kravinoff is broke?"

His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked, tilting her head mockingly, her tone laced with amusement.

"I said fine!" he snapped, spinning to face her. His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly regained composure. "You'll get your money. Just- just don't screw this up."

Y/N smiled, satisfied. "Now we're talking."

Dimitri let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if the weight of their deal was already pressing down on him. He turned away, pacing the room as he muttered something under his breath.

"So," she said, breaking the silence. "What's the plan? Are we just going to march into your father's estate like it's show-and-tell?"

Dimitri stopped pacing, his jaw tightening. "It's not that simple," he said sharply. "If I'm going to bring you to him, I need to make it look… convincing."

"Convincing, huh?" Y/N crossed her arms casually. "What's that supposed to mean? You're not planning on tying me up again, are you?"

His face flushed. "No," he snapped, too quickly. "I mean- I can't just walk in with you looking like this." He gestured vaguely at her, his frustration bubbling over. "You don't exactly scream 'dangerous thief.' You look-"

"Careful, Kravinoff," Y/N cut in, her tone sharp. "Finish that sentence, and I might reconsider our little deal."

"I won't take you to him," he started and Y/N almost interrupted him with protests but he continued before she could say anything. "I'll bring him here. He'll see you, tied up on that chair."

Y/N raised an eyebrow as he paced up an down in his bedroom, puzzling together a plan. "So I'll be tied up again? Great," she said, leaning back on her arms. She was starting to get tired and the bedding felt pretty comfortable under her hands.

"Yeah. You- You'll be unconscious! Or at least play unconscious.

Y/N blinked, barely suppressing a laugh. "Unconscious? That's your master plan?"

Dimitri stopped pacing to glare at her, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. "Do you have a better idea?" he snapped. "Because if we don't make this convincing, my father will see through it in an instant. He'll know it's a setup, and trust me, neither of us walks away from that."

She tilted her head, studying him. The nervous energy radiating off him, the way he avoided her eyes when he mentioned Nikolai. It wasn't just fear of failure driving him. It was something deeper. Something personal. "Alright," she said after a moment, her tone softening. "Unconscious it is. But if you tie me up too tight this time, we're gonna have problems."

Dimitri let out a breath he didn't seem to realize he was holding, nodding sharply. "Fine. I'll make it believable without… overdoing it."

"Good boy," she said with a smirk, watching as his ears reddened. "Now, what's your big plan for when he actually gets here? You think Nikolai's just going to pat you on the back and call it a day?"

His jaw tightened, his eyes darting away from her. "I'll handle him," he said, though there was no confidence in his voice. "That's not your concern. You just play your part."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Bold of you to assume I'll just sit quietly and let you sell this performance without input."

"You'll have no choice," he shot back, his voice firmer this time. "If this goes wrong, you won't get your money. So do us both a favor and keep your theatrics to a minimum."

"Sure thing, partner," she drawled, leaning back on her elbows with an amused glint in her eye.

Dimitri glared at her, but she caught the flicker of amusement behind his eyes.

"Alright," he said after a long pause, his voice quieter now. "Let's get this over with."

Y/N grinned, flexing her wrists. "By all means, Kravinoff. Tie me up. Again."

The sharp click of approaching footsteps echoed through the apartment. Y/N, bound and pretending to be unconscious, kept her breathing slow and even, her head hanging low, hair in her face as if she'd passed out. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to spring into action if needed.

The air shifted, colder somehow, as Nikolai Kravinoff stepped into the room. His presence was imposing, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the dimly lit apartment. Dimitri stood stiffly by the door, his shoulders square but his hands fidgeting at his sides. A nervous habit he couldn't quite suppress.

Nikolai's gaze swept across the room, landing immediately on Y/N. His sharp features twisted into something between approval and disdain. "So," he began, his voice low and gravelly, "this is the thief who dared to challenge our family?" He approached her, his boots barely making a sound against the carpeted floor. "She doesn't look like much."

Dimitri swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. "She got in," he said, trying to keep his tone steady. "But she didn't get out. I stopped her before she could take the knife."

Nikolai turned his head slightly, giving his youngest son a scrutinizing look. "Did you, now?"

"Yes," Dimitri said quickly. "She was fast, but I was faster. I managed to subdue her before she could escape." He gestured to the knife, now prominently displayed on the table beside them. "The knife is still here, untouched."

Nikolai stepped closer to Y/N, his sharp eyes studying her as though she were an insect pinned under glass. He reached out, almost absently, and grasped her chin, tilting her face toward him. Y/N fought the urge to flinch, keeping her body limp and her breathing shallow.

"You tied her up and left her alive," Nikolai observed, his tone unreadable. "Interesting choice. Most would've ended the threat."

Dimitri's throat worked as he struggled to find an answer. "I thought you'd want to see her," he said finally. "To question her. She might have information about who sent her."

His father let the silence hang for a beat, then let out a quiet sigh. "You finally achieved something. I'll give you that." There was no pride in his voice, only the acknowledgment of the bare minimum. "But don't get comfortable. This doesn't change anything."

Dimitri didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure under his father's sharp gaze.

"I don't care for information from a little girl." There was an almost unnoticeable pause before he added, "She's your responsibility. If she becomes a problem, it's your head. Do with her what you will, but if she proves to be more trouble than she's worth…"

He didn't finish the thought, but the implication was clear. He turned toward the door, his footsteps heavy and purposeful as he walked away. As the door clicked shut behind him, the room seemed to breathe again, though the atmosphere remained thick with unspoken words. Dimitri stood frozen for a moment, his eyes still on Y/N. He wasn't sure what to feel. His father's words echoed in his mind: You finally achieved something. But it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like he had done the bare minimum, like a child who had only met the lowest expectation.

Dimitri exhaled sharply, his breath shaky as he looked to Y/N. She was still tied to the chair, her eyey fixated on him as if she was trying to read him, but she didn't dare to say anything. The silence between them stretched long.

He should feel proud, right? But all he felt was a gnawing emptiness in his chest, the way he always did when his father's praise was nowhere to be found. No approval. No pride.

Finally, he took a hesitant step toward her, kneeling down in front of the chair. His hands trembled as he began untying the thick ropes. He could feel the tightness in his chest, the heat of unshed tears threatening to spill, and he hoped Y/N wouldn't notice. But of course, she did.

Once her hands were free, she reached up, her fingers gentle as she brushed away a blonde lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. Her touch was soft, almost soothing, and it made the weight of his emotions feel even more suffocating.

"You're not so tough, are you?" Y/N said quietly, her voice low but not unkind. "Not as much as you like to pretend."

Dimitri's gaze dropped, and he clenched his jaw. He didn't want to show it. He didn't want to give her any more reason to see him as weak. But the truth was, he'd been feeling that way for far longer than he wanted to admit.

His throat tightened as he finally looked back at her. "I didn't want this," he said, the words escaping before he could stop them. "But it's like… it's like I'm stuck, Y/N. I can't win, no matter what I do."

Y/N's fingers paused on his face, and she studied him for a long moment. The way he was kneeling in front of her, sad and vulnerable, did something to her. There was something in her eyes, something like understanding, but she didn't speak right away. Instead, she just let her hand linger there, her thumb brushing against his skin in a way that made him feel exposed.

"You're not stuck, Dimitri," she said softly. "You just haven't figured out how to break free yet."

He sniffed, wiping a small tear with the back of his hand without looking at her. Then, without another word, he stood up and left the room for a moment. When he returned, he was holding a stack of cash.

"Forty." he said, his voice almost sheepish. "This is all I've got lying around right now. You can come back for the rest later." He walked over to her, his eyes briefly flicking toward her before he handed her the money, his fingers brushing hers just slightly. She took it, her gaze flickering up to meet his.

She didn't say anything, just glanced at the cash in her hands. The silence lingered, but this time it felt different. Less tense, more contemplative.

Dimitri shifted uncomfortably, looking away. "Just get out, alright?"

Y/N smiled faintly but didn't argue. She could feel his tension, the quiet storm brewing beneath his guarded exterior. There was something else there, something more than just their deal. But she wasn't going to press him for answers Not yet

"Fine," she said simply, slipping the money into her pocket. "But I'll be back for the rest. Don't think you're getting off that easy."

Dimitri didn't reply, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something almost like relief, or maybe resignation. He nodded, his expression hardening once more as he turned away, but for the briefest moment, the distance between them felt just a little smaller.

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Part 2

#dimitri kravinoff #dmitri kravinoff #kraven #kraven the hunter #dimitri kravinoff x reader #dimitri kravinoff x you #fred hechinger fanfiction #fred hechinger x you #fred hechinger x reader #fred hechinger

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yearsbecomingcool · 3 months ago

Text

dress | dmitri kravinoff

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | dmitri kravinoff x f!reader

synopsis | dmitri takes you dress shopping for the grand opening of his fathers new club

warnings | 18+!!!!, sexual content, insecure!reader, reader has sensory issues, teasing in public, bratty!dmitri.

word count | 2k

a/n | this is the dress i describe in the fic. i deserve financial compensation for rewatching kraven for this i stg. everyone involved in the film deserved a better film because i truly don't know what it was they put out. anyway if y'all want a part 2 let me know

You had never been to a store this nice, well actually, you had. In high school and college you used to love going to the luxury stores at the nicest mall in the city. You could never afford any of the pretty clothes and sparkling accessories that filled the stores but you loved to look. After hours of wandering through the nice shops you’d make your way back down to Forever 21 and H&M and regret ever stepping foot in a dressing room. Nothing ever fit right, or felt right. These pants were too tight or this color washed you out, the lack of AC would get you overwhelmed even quicker and eventually you’d storm out with just a pair or two of socks. Dmitri had insisted on taking you shopping, the dresses you kept in rotation for dates were nice…enough. But he wanted you to have something nicer, he wanted to spoil you. You were hesitant at first, but eventually he’d convinced you to go.

You’d never dated anyone like him, you never imagined you’d end up with someone so…rich. Growing up you thought a two story house meant you were rich so when you saw Dmitri with his private drivers and penthouse apartment you were awestruck. You’d met him at his fathers club, your friend had gotten a promotion and took you and a couple other friends out to celebrate. You caught his eye in your backless dress and he was quick to approach you. You thought he was cute, a little shy at first, but still cute. He’d comped you and your friends' bill in exchange for your number. It didn’t take long for him to invite you back to the club for a private dinner, it was the most romantic thing a guy had ever done for you and you fell for him quickly. His father would be opening another club location soon and Dmitri insisted he buy you a new dress for the grand opening.

“I think it would look a lot nicer if we matched, don’t you?” He said, stroking your hair. Your back was against his chest as you laid on his couch watching a movie together. You knew he wanted you to be at the opening and already had a dress in mind, but he had other plans.

“Yeah…I don’t think any of my stuff matches yours. The material is gonna look a little cheap next to all the nice stuff you’ve got.”

He smiles down at you, “Then we’ll just go get something to match each other so we don’t have that problem. I wanna get you something nice and silky.”

You bite your lip and smile, “Like the one I had on when we met?”

He groans at the thought of it, “God that dress…still my favorite on you. Gives me a lot of access,” he teases.

“Is that what you want in a dress? One that lets you put your hands wherever you’d like?”

He moves his hand down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his hand up to your breast, beginning to massage it. “I think we both like that, hm?” You melt into his touch, moaning softly as you throw your head back against his shoulder. He smirks down at you, starting to leave soft kisses on your neck, “Let me take care of you.” You giggle and let him continue.

That was all it took to convince you to let him take you shopping. You didn’t tell him about your insecurities with trying on clothes, you were hoping you’d feel comfortable enough with him there that it wouldn’t be as bad but as soon as he led you into the shop you felt inferior. Everything about the store just screamed money. It was mostly empty, save for a few employees dressed in all black, designer clothing lining the walls. Dmitri picked up on how you were feeling pretty quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “You okay?”

You nod, “Mhm, I’m fine Dima…just haven’t even shopped in a place like this before. It feels like I shouldn’t be here.”

He scoffs, “You definitely belong here. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t, hm? C’mon, you said I could take care of you.” He kisses your cheek and leads you over to a rack full of dresses, an employee approaches, ready to help.

You let Dmitri take the lead in explaining what you’re looking for as you look through the rack. You see a couple dresses you like but as soon as you see the price tag your eyes go wide. “I didn’t know a piece of clothing could be this expensive…” you mumble to yourself.

Dmitri hears you and chuckles, “Hey, I’m paying. Stop looking at the prices and just pick what you like, you know I can afford it.”

“I’ve never shopped like that before, it feels…wrong,” you sigh, scratching the back of your neck nervously.

“Just try for me, yeah? I’m gonna look at some suits, I’ll meet you in the fitting room. He kisses your cheek and heads to the other side of the store to look for himself. The employee he had just spoken to stays by your side to help you out.

After about an hour of looking you feel decently confident in your choices. You picked dresses in all different colors, materials, and lengths. You know he wants you in something silk but you wanted to keep your options open. All the dresses are hung up for you in the fitting room already and Dmitri’s is set up right across from yours. As soon as you step in and shut the door you feel a tightness in your chest. The bright lights and floor length mirror bring back the anxiety you feel every time you step into a fitting room. You strip off to try on the first dress, it’s knee length and velvet. It’s a rusty orange color with a built in corset and off the shoulder straps. You run your hands down it and cringe, the feeling of the velvet under your nails makes you want to puke.

“How’s it fit?” Dmitri asks, knocking softly on the fitting room door. You open the door to let him take a look. He leans against the doorway, “You look amazing, do a spin for me, c’mon let me see it.” He makes a little spinny motion with his finger and you smile and oblige. He grabs your waist and pulls you towards him, “Do you like it?”

You hang your head and mumble a quick, “No.” You feel bad, you should like it, but the material ruins it.

He grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him, “What’s wrong with it?”

“I-It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid, just tell me what you don’t like about it.” He’s always sweet with you.

“The material feels awful to touch…I don’t know why I thought I’d like velvet this time…” You mutter.

“No more velvet then, yeah? We’ll get you something that feels nice.” He kisses your cheek and moves his hand to unzip your dress.

You put a hand on his chest and your eyes go wide, “Dima! The door is still open,” you giggle.

“Hurry up and take it off for me, I wanna see the silk ones,” he says, continuing to tug the zipper down as you try to hold the dress up. He lets go of the zipper and shuts the door, going to his fitting room to try his suits on.

The next dress is much better, a floor length silk gown with shiny embellished flowers. It has just one drawback, the color washes you out. You look in the mirror, groaning in annoyance at how lifeless it makes you look. Two dresses in and you already want to scream. You open the fitting room door and knock on Dmitri’s. “Dima, do I need to show you every dress?”

He opens the door wearing a suit of a similar color to your dress, “Not if you don’t want to. Why? Is this one not a winner either?” He smiles.

You shake your head, “Washes me out. The color’s cute on you though.” You reach out and feel the material of his suit. “I wish I looked good in this color, I like this suit.”

He blushes, “When you find one you like just show me, yeah?”

You nod and head back into your dressing room.

You feel like you’ve tried on half the store by the time you get to the last dress, it’s one you’re not sure of. It’s silk, just like Dmitri had wanted. It’s strapless and would be practically floor length on you, it’s a beautiful red wine color. You slip it on running your hands down the fabric and smiling to yourself, it’s nice and smooth. You look in the mirror and smile, you’ve never felt better. It hugs all the right places and feels secure, unlike other strapless dresses you’ve tried before. You call for Dmitri to have a look, opening your door for him. He comes out of his fitting room, having changed back into his normal clothes already. “What do you think?”

His jaw drops as he looks at you. “Fuck…it’s perfect.” He grabs your hand and spins you around to get a look at the back. “This is the one, it has to be. I have a suit in there the same color, it’ll be perfect.” He pulls you closer to him, his hand going to your lowerback. You bite your lip and look down.

“You really like it, Dima?”

“I love it baby, god…you’re gonna kill me. Go find some shoes to go with it, yeah? I wanna get the full picture.” He says, calling for an employee to come over. “Could you find them some shoes to go with this?” The employee nods before going off to find some shoes for you. Dmitri calls out your size, realising he hadn’t told her.

He pushes you back into the room, “I’m gonna worship you when we get home…it feels impossible not to do it here. But, Papa would have a field day if we got caught. I can imagine the headlines now, ‘Son of Nikolai Kravinoff Caught Fooling Around in Fitting Room’.” You laugh and shake your head at his imagination. He kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist and his other snaking up to cradle the back of your head. You melt into the kiss, you can never get enough of him. He pulls away when he hears footsteps.

“I found a few pairs that might work, Mr. Kravinoff.” She’s got a couple boxes of shoes for me to try. Dmitri thanks her and has you sit down on the bench in the fitting room.

“You’re gonna put them on me?” You chuckle.

“Mhm,” he responds, grabbing the first box. He pulls out a nude pump, holding it up for you to see. He grabs your foot and presses a kiss to your ankle before sliding it on.

“Dima…” You whine.

He smirks and repeats the motion as he slides the matching pump onto your other foot. “Something wrong, love?”

“You tease…”

“Not teasing just…being a gentleman…” He says, blushing.

You roll your eyes at him and stand to see how the shoes feel, “Hmm, not bad. I wanna try the rest though.” He kisses further up on your leg when he removes the shoes. For every pair he puts on and takes off you his kisses get higher, you know what he’s doing and he looks so smug about it.

“Dima…” You warn, raising an eyebrow once he starts to lift your dress.

“I’m being good, don’t scold me.”

You laugh and shake your head at him.

Eventually the two of you decide on a pair of matching pumps in a similar silky material. He grabs your items and makes sure to stand in front of the card reader so you can’t see the total. “No peeking, just let me spoil you, love.” You roll your eyes but comply anyway.

Once you’re back in the car you lean into him, “When we get back to your place you’re so getting it…teasing me like that…Dima you should know better.”

He chuckles, “I’ll never learn…”

#fred hechinger #fred hechinger imagine #fred hechinger x reader #fred hechinger x you #fred hechinger fanfic #dmitri kravinoff #dmitri kravinoff x reader #divider by cafekitsune #dmitri kravinoff x you #dimitri kravinoff #dimitri kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter

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amndstuckinwonderland · 9 days ago

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Ballerina!AU [Kraven the Hunter]

Series: [1] Drabble:

You were rather taken aback from the stare that had persistent following your every move. At first you had just assumed it was a fan that had recognised you but the weigh of it didn't disappear, only getting heavier.

You had been heading to a cafe nearby originally, but decided to go in a circle to see if you were being followed, except midway, the source of your unease pounced and grabbed your arm, tight and rough, screaming and swearing another language you didn't recognise.

Pain flared upon your arm as panic began to fill you as two more men appeared but before you could run or scream, a sickening crunch was heard from your side as one by one all three of the men were knocked out with ease by face that was becoming familiar faster than you had ever experienced.

'Sergei!' You perked up at the sight of him, sighing in relief as you nervously stepped over the unconscious bodies surrounding you.

You let him hold onto you, gripping both your shoulder and arm, letting him burn his stare into you as he looked you over, checking for any injuries, growling in displeasure at the blooming red bruise.

You watched as he unblinkingly cataloged every single perceived slight the men had done against you. 'We really need to stop running into each other like this, let alone you start thinking this is a daily occurrence for me!'

You paid his silence no mind, becoming used to his habitually silent and broodiness, always tense and observing for any possible dangers around. Unbeknownst to you, he truly did think you needed to be protected, a ballerina like yourself, how could he risk you getting hurt and forever incapable of doing what you love? What made you so very special? Risk ruining what drew him to you in the first place?

'Don't worry, just be careful, alright, принцесса.' Is what he said, despite his inner monologue growling and bearing its teeth to be a protector and proper provider, his instincts going haywire at the very notion that someone was coming near his принцесса, especially due to the threat likely coming from his father's meddling ways.

#drabble #AU code: Ballerina!AU #kraven the hunter #sergei kravinoff #dimitri kravinoff #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven x you #sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven #Why write a fanfiction when you can write the scene that plagues you?#I think i am incapable of writing small things.

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

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Inspired by @multific Dimitri fic.

When you first met Dimitri, you were a little intimidated by the man with the beautiful blue eyes and harmonious voice of an angel, so much so when you found yourself felling a little overexposed in a bar that looked and felt more expensive than anywhere else you’ve ever been.

He might as well have been the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on, it was borderline impossible to not look away from him as he sang from behind a grand piano. Yet there was a pain within that beauty from what you could see when you looked deeper into his eyes, there was something that made you feel as though he was unsatisfied or unfulfilled within him, you could only assume this feeling must’ve stayed and haunted him for most of his life and felt the need to subvert all the assumptions made about him.

To you Dimitri was an angel with disproportionate wings, yet was blessed in other aspects that would be proven great assets to have in any other possession than the one he desperately wanted to excel at. To you Dimitri was a man who had power and influence but felt that wasn’t enough to make a change, to claim what he wanted for powerful men will always hungered for more, no matter how much he already had to being with.

Nothing was ever enough for them for the wanted it all, to consume it all and claim it as their own selfishly and through whatever means necessary, and once they did get everything the greed for more still persists as they try to look for something else to devour completely; unaware that they had already everything that they have taken from others but still the greed and hunger for within them will always tell them otherwise.

Yet despite knowing the kind of man Dimitri was, you always found yourself holding him to your chest at night, running your fingers through his hair while whispering sweet nothings against his forehead. Nothing else mattered to you nor him in those moments you shared for Dimitri didn’t believe anything should be going through either of your heads when you were in each others presences, your soul focus was on one another and the care you held for one another was all that mattered.

You knew that you could easily live a easier life with Dimitri but you and he both knew that while as tempting as that might sound, you were a restless soul who wanted to do anything and everything before it was far too late, blessed with the ability to do whatever your heart desires before you could ever regret not doing anything at all. To settle down and do nothing at an early age didn’t sit right with you, and you made that apparent when you first got to know Dimitri a little more after awhile, while he was stubborn in his own way of things he agreed that you should be the dictator of your own life and choices.

However that didn’t stop him from pampering you with all your favourite things when he felt your mood was especially sour then the day previous, for you were his comfort, his confidant and he wanted to at least pay your kindness forward by bringing you to his chest and humming a soft tune again your head as his hand stroked your arm.

‘Thank you.’ You’d murmur to him as you fought the need for sleep in order to spend just a couple more minutes with him.

‘What for?’ He replies softly as he smiles at you, finding his mind at peace and his heart full and beating from all the times you been attentive to him and his needs.

‘Just being here with me,’ you say as you nuzzled yourself further against him, ‘my beautiful man with the bewitching voice.’ You add with a chuckle, unable to see yourself anywhere but in his arms and you swore it was all his doing but you didn’t care because Dimitri was easily more than enough for you; an endlessly beautiful dream in human skin.

‘I’m only doing what you’ve done for me countless times before.’ Dimitri retorts as he holds you just that little bit tighter as he presses a kiss to your head. ‘Nothing I do for you now is different from the things you’ve done for me in the past when it was you holding me like this, yet you deserve moments of rest like this and so more that I’m more then happy to give you without hesitation.’

You kiss the underside of his jaw, feeling soft and warm and protected in Dimitri’s arms as you found yourself a little envious of the soft blue turtleneck the he decided to wear, for it got to be closer to him then you could ever want to be, but you shove the thought aside as you being too in need of sleep just to be envious of some article of clothing. ‘Still that doesn’t take away the fact that you care for me in your own way, so again I say thank you for doing all this for me dimi, my dear.’ You replied sweetly as you finally allowed your eyes to rest, comfortable in knowing that he’ll be the first thing you see in the morning.

Seeing as you were already half way in succumbing to sleep, Dimitri only kissed your head before resting his head against your own, closing his eyes as he holds you tight to him as though he was fearful that you’d slip away from his grasp. ‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, nothing.’ He tells you in abrupt voice barely above a whisper as though it were a secret only the two of you should know before submitting to sleep himself shortly after.

#kraven imagines #kraven imagine #kraven #kraven the hunter #dimitri kravinoff imagines #dimitri kravinoff imagine #dimitri kravinoff x y/n #dimitri kravinoff x you #dimitri kravinoff x reader #kraven x reader #dimitri kraminoff x reader #dimitri kraminoff x you #dimitri kraminoff imagines #Dimitri kraminoff imagine

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bumblebeeswrite · 15 days ago

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VELVET & SMOKE | DIMITRI KRAVINOFF

summary: you’re just trying to make your way in the world, and then Dimitri comes crashing in

CW: Mentions of violence and criminal activity, some angst and emotional vulnerability.

I may or may not have whipped this out in an hour LOL

Please let me know if I should make a part two?

The air in the club was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, and even more expensive liquor, and something else… something metallic and faintly unsettling that you tried not to think about too hard.

It was Dimitri’s club, after all, and whispers followed him like shadows. Whispers of his family, his brother, the things that happened in the back rooms that were strictly off-limits to the staff, especially to you.

You adjusted the microphone, the cool metal a familiar comfort against your palm. Tonight, the crowd was a mix of the usual clientele – the city’s elite, looking for a thrill, and the more shadowy figures you tried not to make eye contact with.

Your job was just to sing. To lose yourself in the music and maybe, just maybe, catch a break.

Dimitri was usually a ghost in his own club. He’d make a brief appearance, a curt nod to the staff, maybe a clipped word with the bartender, and then disappear into his private office.

You had known him only weeks before his father died, but before that he seemed more present.. more engaged. But who were you to say he was different?

He was all sharp angles and colder eyes, a man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his tailored shoulders. You’d only spoken to him a handful of times, mostly about your setlists and the occasional equipment malfunction. He was always polite, if distant, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself.

But sometimes, late after your last set, when the club had emptied to a handful of stragglers and the cleaning crew was sweeping up spilled drinks, you’d hear it. Music. Faint at first, then growing clearer – the melancholic chords of a piano. It was always Dimitri on the piano, his long fingers dancing over the keys with a grace that was at odds with his usual stoic demeanor

And then there were the times that he would sing. He could borrow the voice of almost anyone, though you never knew how he could do it. His pianist was usually a rotating cast of session musicians, but sometimes… sometimes it was you.

It had started a few weeks into your employment. You’d been packing up your gear, humming a tune to yourself, when Dimitri had emerged from the shadows, his eyes, for once, not quite so glacial.

“You play?” he’d asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

You’d nodded, clutching your guitar case a little tighter. “Piano, mostly. Some guitar.”

“The pianist for tonight… he called in sick.” A beat of silence. “Would you… would you be willing?”

Your heart had leaped into your throat. Playing with Dimitri? It felt both terrifying and exhilarating. You’d stammered out a yes, and that night, something shifted.

When you played together, the walls Dimitri had so carefully constructed seemed to crumble. His focus wasn’t on the business, the clientele, or whatever dark dealings went on behind closed doors. It was solely on the music.

His eyes would meet yours, not with the usual guardedness, but with an intensity that made your breath catch. You’d lose yourselves in the melodies, the shared rhythm, a language you both understood without words.

Tonight, as you finished your first set with a powerful rendition of Etta James’ “I’d Rather Go Blind,” you scanned the dimly lit room, half-expecting to see Dimitri observing from a shadowy corner. But he wasn’t there.

A familiar pang of disappointment hit you. You’d been hoping he might be around tonight. You’d been working on a new song, something vulnerable, and you’d wanted to see his reaction.

During your break, you retreated to the small, cramped dressing room, the silence a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the club. You pulled out your notebook, the pages filled with scribbled lyrics and half-formed melodies. This song… it was different.

It was about the longing, the yearning for something more, something beyond the confines of your current life. You weren’t born with money or inheritance, only talent and a dream. You worked tirelessly to make ends meet, to ensure that you would have a chance to succeed. But you had no connections or means to make it happen, as best as you tried

It was also about the way Dimitri looked at you sometimes when you played, a flicker of something real in his usually impenetrable gaze.

You were humming the tune to yourself when a soft knock echoed through the door. Your heart skipped a beat.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Dimitri. He looked… different. His tie was slightly loosened, and there was a weariness around his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. He held a small glass in his hand, the amber liquid swirling within.

“They liked your set,” he said, his voice low.

A blush crept up your neck. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

He took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on you. “You have a… powerful voice.”

“It’s all I have,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

His eyes flickered with something that might have been understanding. “That’s not true.” He paused. “You have talent. Real talent.”

It was the most personal thing he’d ever said to you outside of your musical collaborations. You didn’t know how to respond.

“I… I was working on something new,” you said, gesturing to your notebook. “Maybe… maybe after my last set, if you’re still here…”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Perhaps.” He took another sip of his drink. “The pianist… he’s still unwell. Would you… would you play with me again tonight?”

Your heart soared. “I’d like that very much.”

The second set flew by in a blur. You poured your heart and soul into every song, feeling Dimitri’s occasional gaze like a warm weight. When you finally announced your last song, you felt a mix of anticipation and nerves.

“This next one,” you said into the microphone, your voice a little shaky, “is something I wrote myself.”

You took a deep breath and began to play. The melody was simple, raw, and the lyrics poured out of you, telling a story of dreams and longing, of wanting to make everything you dreamed a reality.

As you sang, your eyes found Dimitri’s in the dim light. He was watching you intently, his usual guarded expression softened, replaced by something you couldn’t quite understand.

When the last note faded, the club was silent for a moment before erupting into applause. You looked at Dimitri, your heart pounding in your chest. He simply nodded, a hint of something akin to admiration in his eyes.

Later, after the club had mostly emptied, you found yourself back in the small dressing room, gathering your things. You were humming the melody of your song when the door opened again. It was Dimitri again.

“That song,” he said, his voice quiet. “It was… honest.”

You shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious over the whole thing. “It’s just… how I feel sometimes.”

He stepped closer, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. “You want more than this, don’t you?” he asked, his gaze searching yours.

“Of course, I do,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I want to be heard. I want to make music that matters.”

He nodded slowly. “And you will.”

You wanted to believe him, but doubt gnawed at you. You were just a poor girl with a voice and a dream, working in a club owned by a man who moved in circles you couldn’t even imagine.

“It’s not that simple,” you said, looking down at your hands.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch sent a jolt through you. His hand was surprisingly warm, his soft skin a stark contrast to your own. And then there was the business of the missing finger, which you’d always chosen not to comment on.

“Maybe not,” he said, his voice low and husky. “But sometimes… sometimes the most unlikely things can happen.”

He didn’t let go of your hand. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. In the soft light of the dressing room, his eyes seemed to hold a depth you hadn’t seen before.

“Why does that matter?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickered down to your hands, then back up to your eyes. “Because… because when you sing, it’s like the whole world stops. And for a moment… for a moment, even I forget.”

You didn’t know what to say. His words were unexpected, and they stirred something within you that you had tried to ignore, that you had tried to convince yourself weren’t real.

“Dimitri…”

He squeezed your hand gently. “I know we come from different worlds,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I know my life… it’s complicated.”

You knew that much. The rumors about his family, his brother’s… unusual hobbies… they were hard to ignore. Even though they tried their best to keep it all quiet.

“But when we play music together…” he continued, his eyes searching yours. “It’s… it’s the only time I feel… free.”

His vulnerability surprised you. This closed-off, enigmatic man was admitting something deeply personal.

“Me too,” you whispered. “When I sing with you… it’s like nothing else matters.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Maybe… maybe it could be more than just the music.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You wanted to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and embrace the possibility of something more with this complicated, intriguing man. But fear held you back.

“Dimitri, your world… it’s not mine. I don’t belong here.”

He cupped your cheek with his hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “Don’t say that. You belong wherever you want to be.”

His touch sent shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. You knew it was risky, that getting involved with someone like him could lead to nothing but heartbreak. But in that moment, with his hand on your cheek and his eyes filled with a longing that mirrored your own, you didn’t care.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, a small, hopeful smile playing on your lips.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. It was a tentative touch at first, a silent question. You responded in kind, standing up a little taller to press your lips more firmly against his. The kiss deepened, a slow, tender exploration that was full of unspoken desires and a hesitant hope for something more.

When you finally pulled apart, the air between you was thick and slightly hot. Dimitri’s eyes, usually so cold, held a warmth that made your heart flutter.

“Stay,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “Stay and let’s see what happens.”

You knew it wouldn’t be easy. There would be obstacles, challenges, and the ever-present shadow of his family and their dangerous world. But in that moment, held in his arms, with the promise of music and something more hanging in the air, you knew you couldn’t walk away.

“Okay,” you whispered back, your voice filled with a newfound hope. “I’ll stay.”

Taglist: please ask box to be added <3

@glassbxttless

#dimitri kravinoff #fred hechinger #Dimitri kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter #kraven the hunter fic #Spotify

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princesssunderworld · 3 months ago

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Dimitri didn’t grow a bit. Such a sweet baby angel.

#sergei kravinoff x reader #dimitri kravinoff #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven the hunter #Dimitri and Sergei

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pretty-little-mind33 · 14 days ago

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Sergei Kravinoff x virgin!fem!reader

Summary: The handsome mysterious man you just met disapproves of your idea to lose your virginity for money.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of weed, sex work, virgin!reader, mentions of selling your virginity, p in v, fingering, passionate, hints of dom!Sergei and sub!reader, nipple play, one night stand vibes, aftercare <3

~ i hope you like this anon! ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

"Dima!"

A boisterous voice echoes across the room and you jump, almost spilling the champagne Dimitri Kravinoff had generously poured for you all over your cocktail dress. Dimitri looks alarmed, his cheeks becoming crimson as he stands and tries to intercept the irate-looking man from coming any closer.

"Брат— (Brother—)"

One of the girls, the one who is dressed in only a pair of lavish maroon panties and a sheer dress giggles and leans her arm on the table as her lips press against your ear: "That's Dimitri's older brother," she introduces the newcomer, who seems upset with Dimitri as he speaks to the younger man in quick Russian.

"Sergei Kravinoff likes to pretend he's better than girls like us, but really, he quite likes being under us like all the others—"

You watch them. The brothers couldn't look more different. Sergei is much taller, and he has dark brown hair that beautifully contrasts with the deep ocean blue of his eyes. His shoulders are broad and the muscles on his arms make your lower stomach ache. Your mouth becomes dry. Sergei looks up, catching your gaze as he berates his brother.

He's probably pissed that Dimitri spent his birthday without him, inviting whores into his club white he's hammered. You look away, fumbling with the hem of your dress on your lap.

The second girl, the one opposite you, speaks up, "You're the virgin, right?"

You look at her and your eyebrows knit together. You nod slowly and the girl laughs. "Stay away from him then," she warns and motions to Sergei. "Little Dima's a fine client for your first time, but you're much too inexperienced for someone like Sergei. He doesn't like unpopped cherries," her voice is smooth like velvet but it hides a venom beneath.

"He'd break you. You better leave him to me," she continues with a wink and stands, sauntering over and offering Sergei her drink. The rim of her wine glass is stained red from her lips and she sends him a sultry smile.

The previous girl smirks at the interaction. She pulls out a joint from her purse and nonchalantly dangles it in front of you.

"Wanna smoke?"

You shake your head, suddenly feeling very ill, and you stand. You squeeze past her and down from the booth. Your ankle twists awkwardly in the unfamiliar stilettos and you groan, grasping the end of the table.

This had been a horrible mistake.

You pull down the hem of your dress, which has ridden up your knee, as you walk by the brothers.

"Hey!" Dimitri calls after you, still extremely drunk, and you turn to see Sergei holding him back. You look away and the last thing you hear is a whine—"I paid extra for the virgin. Come back!"

Once the cold London air hits your skin, you let out a shaky breath, and slump down on the sidewalk. You have no money for a cab and you have a feeling the others won't want to leave so soon.

"Fuck me," you grumble into your hands.

"Hm, that is why you're here, right?" A low, dark voice chuckles from behind you, and you quickly stand and spin around.

Sergei Kravinoff stands in front of you. His arms are crossed over his chest, muscles straining against the white shirt he's wearing. His suit jacket has been long forgotten somewhere. He looks relaxed enough. "My apologies, I did not mean to scare you—or insult you. I just assumed you would be cold."

Your gaze flickers to your bare arms and your cheeks burn. "O-oh, yes, right," you say sounding as calm as you can, considering he's the most attractive man you've spoken to in years, and follow him as he gestures for the inside of the lounge again.

Inside, Dimitri has happily found himself in between the two hookers you came with and your stomach sinks.

From beside you, Sergei chuckles again and he looks at you. "Would you like to join them? Dima did say he paid a lot of money upfront for you."

You're frozen for a moment; watching the roughness of their lips meet and hearing the obscene sounds they make. You shake your head no and so Sergei leads you into a quieter room without another word.

There is an empty bar, the lounge being closed at this hour, and you suddenly feel stupid sitting on that stool as Sergei makes you a drink.

When he hands you the clear liquid, you take a sip expecting some form of vodka and you're pleasantly surprised to realize it's only lemon water. The straw falls from your lips as Sergei walks over and sits on the stool beside yours.

He watches you intensely and your heart thumps rhythmically against your chest.

"You don't look like a hooker," he states, his blue eyes locked onto yours. A smirk curls his lips. "Hookers usually aren't virgins."

You fiddle nervously with your straw. "I'm not a hooker—I mean, not really? This is my first time—" You pause, catching yourself and you look away from Sergei's intense gaze. "Well, I- I suppose I just wanted the pesky thing gone, " you laugh dryly, "and the extra cash can't hurt—"

"You foolish girl," Sergei interrupts and you meet his gaze. Embarrassment burns in your stomach.

"Excuse me?"

Composing himself, Sergei's smirk disappears and his hand slides over to rest on your knee, using his thumb to gently slide up the small slit in your dress.

Using his polished shoe, he hooks it under the stool and effortlessly pulls you closer to him. His hand settles on the underside of the stool as you stumble forward.

You inhale, his touch on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Sergei's hand moves closer to your inner thigh as he leans in, his breath hot on your neck. "You're shaking," he observes as his teeth threaten to nip the skin on your throat. "I can tell you aren't cut out for this, little bunny. Anyone could devour you."

His words ring in your ears and you feel anger stir in your stomach. You know deep down he's right but hearing him read you so well is humiliating. You don't know this man, you shouldn't want to prove yourself to him but you do. He's pushing all the right buttons and he knows it.

You don't think when you lean forward and kiss him. You don't stop to wonder why he came out to talk with you when the other girl wanted him so badly. It doesn't matter because his hand finds itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

Without a word, he's standing and lifting you up and onto the bar. You wrap your arms around his neck, tilting your head to taste him better. He hasn't drank and you're now thankful for the lemon water because whatever slight buzz you had from the champagne is long gone.

Sergei's lips trail down to your neck again as his hands tighten around your waist. He pulls away for a moment, a golden twinkle in his gaze as he laughs. "Ну, ты сюрприз. (Well, you're a surprise)."

You gasp when he holds onto your hair again and leaves love bites above the neckline of your dress right above your breasts. This is as far as you've ever gotten with men, and the realization that things could escalate looms over you.

Sergei kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear. "I won't fuck you like this." His voice sends a shiver up your spine. "If you would like, come home with me. We'll do this right," he promises and there is an intensity in his gaze you don't dare refuse.

The entire taxi ride to his penthouse, you feel like you're on a cloud. Sergei is kissing you softly in the backseat, his calloused hands touching you so reverently as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You moan, eyelids fluttering shut as you hold him close, your arms wrapped around his shoulders now. "Tryin' to sell this beautiful body, tsk," he grumbles, squeezing your hips. "What a waste that would have been. You're mine," Sergei nips posessively at your earlobe and you grind your hips into his.

It's intoxicating, hearing him call you his as if you hadn't just met.

"Sergei," you whimper, tugging at the baby hairs on his nape.

"Shh, Принцесса (Princess). Don't you worry. I'll take good care of you."

His bed is warm and supple and the minute you're laying on the plush blankets and soft furs, you sink into them as his weight hovers over you. His beard scratches against your neck as he hikes up your dress, his large palm splayed across your thigh. You buck your hips, attempting to chase the hint of pleasure he had awarded you in the taxi.

Slowly, his fingers curl under your panties and suddenly, you're panicking and you sit up. Your head slams into his chin and he springs up as well, his eyes wide and confused.

"What is it?" he grumbles, lifting a hand and gently rubbing your head where you hit him, soothing any pain you could be feeling. He removes his other hand and settles it on your hip instead.

He can see the fear in your gaze and he lifts his other hand to cup your cheek. "Breathe," he strokes his thumb across your cheekbone. "I won't hurt you, little bunny. You're okay. We'll go as slow as you need and you can tell me to stop anytime."

He sounds so serious and you nod, taking in his words. Sergei's lips find yours again and he kisses you deeply, using his tongue to explore your mouth. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head as he gently guides you down again, still kissing you as his knee slots in between your thighs. He gently rocks himself against you, applying pressure to your core and when you moan against his lips, he smirks.

Sergei pulls away and his hands dip down to your hips again. He looks at you expectantly before he pulls away your panties. Once you nod, he quickly throws your panties across the room and leaves you bare as he bunches up your dress around your waist.

"So beautiful," he mutters, his voice hoarse and thick, as he kisses between your shoulder and neck. With one hand, he begins to circle your sensitive clit and with the other he pulls down the strap of your dress and bra, exposing your nipple—which he happily takes into his mouth.

The sensation is overwhelming and you shut your eyes, letting moans of pleasure escape your lips. His weight feels heavy over you but he keeps himself up, careful not to crush you underneath him. He works you open with his fingers, his lips moving from your breasts to your throat.

You feel like you're on fire.

"More," you whimper breathlessly, arching up into him as he curls his fingers.

Sergei hums, satisfied with how wet and open you are for him. Once his touch leaves you, you sink further into the mattress as you catch your breath.

You barely register the shuffling of clothes or movement as your eyelids flutter. His large hand resting on your cheeks pulls you back into reality and you feel his cock touch your thigh.

Your eyes widen at the sensation.

"Tell me this is what you want," he mutters, looking you dead in the eye. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want you," you whisper. You mean every word. "Please."

The heat in your stomach worsens when you feel the pressure and you whine. You jerk your hips away from the slight pain, but Sergei holds you still. He presses gentle kisses to your shoulder, whispering sweet words as he continues to push.

He feels large inside you and you bite down on your lip, dulling the slight pain by focusing on the new pain in your lip. Sergei senses the tension in your body and he looks up. His hair falls over his eyes but you can see him frowning. The hand that isn't holding himself up, the one that was on your hip, moves to pull your lip from your teeth.

Instead, he pushes his thumb into your mouth. "Bite down if it hurts. Don't hurt yourself because of me."

You nod, eyes a little glassy. He's stopped moving inside you, giving you some time to adjust. Your teeth sink into his skin, keeping eye contact as your lips close around his thumb.

You think back to the warning you'd received earlier. You'd been told to stay away from him, that he would break you. And while you have no doubt he could break you, he's being so gentle you would almost guess he doesn't want to.

Slowly, he pulls out and you gasp around his thumb. He leans down, adjusting his weight on his arm, and kisses your forehead as he drags back in. This time, the pain is replaced by an intense pleasure and you feel lightheaded.

It feels so good. It's like nothing you could have imagined and you can't help but wonder if it's like this all the time, or only with him.

Sergei leans down, his thumb leaving your mouth with a soft pop and kisses you sweetly as he fucks you. He's being careful and gentle and you're a mess underneath him. You've lost track of all time and place as he kisses your lips and neck.

"S-Sergei?" you moan.

"Yes, Принцесса (Princess)," he mutters into your ear, his movements becoming a bit more frantic as he chases his release.

"I- I think I'm close."

He kisses your cheek, smirking as he thrusts particularly hard. "Hm? Are you?" he teases.

You nod, clutching his arm as he fucks you harder.

Sergei leans in, tilting his head as he pretends he can't hear you. "What's that?"

You moan, legs shaky. "I'm close," you whimper louder. "Please can I come?"

With a final kiss to your temple, Sergei bottoms out and he presses his mouth to your ear. "Come for me, little bunny," he says, and the cord snaps. You groan, clenching around him. Your stomach tightens and you feel Sergei's dick twitch as he fills the condom you hadn't even realize he'd put on. You'd been so overwhelmed by every little sensation. Your head falls back into the pillows, exhaustion overtaking you.

"Shh, good girl," his voice pulls you back into reality again and you suddenly feel empty. Strong arms hook under your legs and back, holding you to a hard chest as he walks into the bathroom and you hear running water. "You're okay."

You blink, fully coming to as you smell lemons and vanilla and feel the warmth of the water on your sweaty skin. The window outside shows the pink sky.

The sun is rising, which makes you wonder how long have you been fucking? Sergei's hand caresses your cheek as he holds you to his chest in the tub. He's smoothing his hand on your knee as he pours water from his hand onto your skin. When his other hand comes up to massage your scalp, your hair intertwining with his fingers, you hum in pleasure.

"If you had let some random dick take your virginity, I guarantee he wouldn't have run you a bath," Sergei whispers, a hint of jealousy and possessiveness in his voice that you don't mind.

You let your eyelids flutter closed again, simply enjoying the moment. It had been everything and more.

You wake up surrounded by familiar furs and blankets, your skin smooth and hair washed as you lay on your side. Blinking, you adjust to the sunlight and realize that Sergei's arm is draped across your side, holding you close to him. Smiling a little, you gently pry his arm away and sit up. You gather your clothes, quickly changing into them.

Holding your heels, you walk down the stairs of the penthouse towards the door. An unfamiliar longing bubbles in your stomach��and your hand pauses on the handle. You turn, looking for a pen and paper. Once you find some, you scribble your name and number. Balls in his court, you think, chewing on your lip as you slip out into the hall.

As the door shuts, Sergei's eyes open instantly. He'd heard everything. A small smirk curls his lips as he can only imagine what you'd written on the note.

He didn't mind letting you go for now, after all, he loves the chase.

#sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff x fem!reader #sergei kravinoff x you #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven the hunter #kraven the hunter x fem!reader #sergei kravinoff smut #kraven the hunter smut #kraven x reader #kraven marvel #kraven the hunter marvel #aaron taylor johnson

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cowboybeepboop · 4 months ago

Text

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.

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samslvrgirl · 2 months ago

Text

Who I write for + Requests

Currently taking requests for the following fandoms/characters.

*please do not request actor x reader*

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Jensen Ackles

Soldier Boy

Beau Arlen

Alec McDowell

Jared Padalecki

Cordell Walker

Dean Forester

Camden Casey

Cillian Murphy

Thomas Shelby

Jonathan Crane

Jackson Rippner

Neil Lewis

Kitten Braden

Matthew Joy

Jim (28 Days Later)

Jim (The Delinquent Season)

Joseph Quinn

Eddie Munson

Emperor Geta

Eric (aqpdo) *platonic*

Michael (Hoard)

Johnny Storm

Fred Hechinger

Simon Kalivoda/Isaac

Emperor Caracalla

Daniel Markowitz

Dimitri Kravinoff

Quinn Mossbacher (NO SMUT)

Joe Keery

Steve Harrington

Gator Tillman

Baron (marmalade)

What i write: fluff, smut, angst, oneshot, moodboards, drabbles etc. Anything consensual.

What I will NOT write: CNC, rape, drugging, piss/fecal, and anything that's either discriminating and/or any physical/sexual abuse.

I'll update this post if anything changes.

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multific · 4 months ago

Text

Full Again

Dimitri Kraminoff x Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Kraven, pregnancy, angst

Summary: You left him, you ran away. But he found you and he needs answers.

“Why? I thought you were different. You left me just like my brother.”

You couldn’t even look into his eyes. Avoiding him at all costs was the plan for the last year.

Well, almost a year, 11 months.

And there he was.

Sitting across from you at the table in his club.

Kidnapping you was exactly what he did. Bringing you here against your will.

And he only had one question.

“Why?”

The pain in his voice hurt.

“I had my reason.”

“I know you still love me. I can see in your eyes. So then what can possibly be your explanation?”

“I can’t-“ his fist met the table. It made you jump and his drink almost spilled.

“Bullshit,” he whispered. “Did you find someone? Someone better? Taller? More muscles?”

“No.” your answer was immediate and straightforward.

"THEN WHY?" he yelled, his eyes filled with tears.

"Because I was scared and pregnant," you said and a huge weight fell from your shoulders. You looked at your feet and blinked back the tears. "I was scared of your father." you looked into his eyes. "It broke me, but I had to leave. Who knows what he would have done if he found out? You know he never liked me."

"So, I have a child?"

"Yes." your voice was shaky yet it held power.

"How could you be so selfish? I have a child and you ran away?"

"I was selfish yes. A selfish mother who put their child before me. Please, you have to understand Dimi." you were crying. "Last year, during your birthday, your father looked at me and he told me that if I dared get pregnant he would personally kill my child and me. He looked into my eyes and told me this."

"Why didn't you tell me he threatened you?"

"You know I couldn't. And so, like a coward, I ran. I'm sorry." you stood up and wanted to leave.

"My father is dead you know. You don't have to be scared anymore. I took over his business. He can no longer hurt you." you looked at Dimitri shocked.

"How did he die?" you turned to look at him.

"Hunting accident. But I know my brother's hand was in it. You don't have to be scared anymore, come back to me. I will keep you safe. Both of you." he stood up and rushed over to you but you put your hands up, his chest met with your hands, but you didn't push him away.

Your eyes searched his for any sign of a lie.

"Is he really?" you whispered and he quickly nodded. "He is home, I can get him for you."

Dimitri looked confused.

"My father? I told you he is buried, in pieces."

"No, our son. I named him Mikhail. I call him Misha. Two months old, I found a kind woman who babysits him while I work." you looked behind yourself at the door. "I can bring him to you. You can meet him." your head snapped back and looked into his eyes as his hands came to his chest and held yours.

"You are so beautiful. I missed you so much."

His voice was so soft, so kind.

"I'm so sorry." tears began to fall again but his hand held you even closer, pulling you in.

His lips met yours.

It was so sweet and it filled your heart with so much love.

How could you leave him?

You love him so much.

"Let's get our son. I want us three to go home."

Home.

"I will get him for you, just give me a driver and a car. I need to... pack his things."

"Okay, I will still go with you."

"You won't be happy with the place I rent."

---

And you were right.

Dimitry looked at the building and froze.

You took this opportunity to go in and get your son from your neighbour.

"I brought you someone," you told Misha as he giggled. "Your father." you smiled as you lifted him and began putting his stuff away.

Dimitry walked into the apartment with a frown.

"Misha, look who it is," you said to your child with a voice only babies get. Misha was still very small.

Being only two months old.

But he looked exactly like Dimitry.

"My son." you handed your son to Dimitry who carefully held and looked at Misha. "I promise you, I will be so much better."

You believed him, you knew he would try his hardest to be the best father possible.

And you know he will be able to achieve his goal.

Once you finished picking up all your stuff, Dimitry guided you to your new home.

Misha quickly fell asleep and you placed him in the guest room, in the middle of the bed.

"We will decorate a room for him, I will buy everything he will ever need."

"Thank you, Dimi."

You two also decided to go to bed shortly after.

"He usually wakes up once per night to eat," you said as you lay down.

The mattress felt like heaven under your tired body.

"I will get up for him."

"And what will you feed him with?" you asked with a yawn as you closed your eyes.

You could imagine the confusion on his face.

You fell asleep not long after that.

Dimitri stayed up and watched you.

He was so happy to have you back. He was able to finally find you.

And now there you slept next to him with his son sleeping in the other room.

Dimitri slowly got up and headed to the room next door.

He walked in and watched his son sleeping, Dimitri knelt on the floor next to the bed and watched his son sleep.

"You look just like me," he whispered and ran a finger down the baby's cheek.

His mind was completely blank all he could do was feel, Misha's cheek was so soft.

"I now completely understand your mother. I would have run away with you too."

Dimitri watched Misha sleep for about an hour before he headed back to his bed where you were.

He moved in under the blanket and pulled you close before he went to sleep.

His heart also felt full.

A/N: The above picture is not mine, credit goes to the owner. (once we have some gifs uploaded to Tumblr, I will be able to use those)

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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