#dmitry x reader

[blairxbear]

Stranger Things Preferences

Their Pet Name for you.

(Featuring: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Jonathan Byers, Dmitri Antonov, Jim Hopper, Alexei, Murray Bauman, Robin Buckley, Argyle, Henry/001)

Warnings: Mentions of sex. This blog is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: My first preference! There will be quite a few of these across quite a few fandoms so if you'd like to be tagged in future preferences or future stranger things posts please let me know in the comments! :) Also any Russian is taken straight from google translate so pre-apologies if I have butchered it! Enjoy!

Steve Harrington

Steve keeps his pet names quite generic, baby, babe, sweetheart. It's not so much the names he uses but how he says them. Most of the time he's most comfortable using the shortened version of your name or nickname he has for you, but the amount of affection he would put into it would make you melt. If he's being especially flirtatious you'd even occasionally get doll. He doesn't miss the effect it has on you when he calls you that.

Eddie Munson

Eddie is as theatrical with his pet names as he is with anything else in life. He loves to call you princess, especially during Hellfire meetings when he can incorporate you into his campaign. I think Eddie would switch between a few pet names to try to keep it interesting, baby, sunshine, sweetheart. It doesn't matter what he calls you it never fails to give you butterflies. Let's not pretend that if you two are hanging out in his trailer while you joke around and play air guitar together that he doesn't call you his little Rockstar.

Billy Hargrove

Billy's pet names for you depend on two things; his mood, and who you are around. In public you're only getting the less heartfelt pet names, he refers to you as his girl a lot in front of other people. Not only does he love the small smile it brings to your face but it also feeds into his possessive side, knowing that everyone knows you are his. When you two are alone and have been together for a while, Billy finally shoes a softer side of himself. He will compliment you a lot and attach all sort of pet names to those compliments, baby, sugar, sweet thing, still loving to resort to calling you his girl. You're mad at him and he's trying to make it up to you? Get ready for him to bargain his way back into your arms, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers in your ear, "Come on sweetheart, you know you can't stay mad at me."

Jonathan Byers

This soft, shy, adorable baby will probably be hesitant to use pet names for a long time. I honestly doubt you would hear them until you two begin to get intimate and he's too lost in the moment to think about what he's saying. He's pussy drunk and rambling into your neck, pet names would all be soft and sweet while he's chasing his high, beautiful and sweetheart would be at the top of his list. Getting high in his room? This sweet man would be telling you how you're his sunshine, rambling on in his delirium about how you light up his life.

Dmitri Antonov

While this man's English is very good, he still prefers to use pet names in Russian. There's something about the way he looks at you with his intense gaze as he slips back into his native tongue that just turns you into an absolute puddle. His favourites include котенок (kitten) and моя любовь (my love). The thought of this man holding you while you curl up in bed for the night, arms wrapped around you while he whispers endearing words in Russian into your ear is enough to bring butterflies to your stomach.

Jim Hopper

Let's not pretend like for a goooooooood while this man affectionately refers to you as kid even if you are barely a few years younger than him. He's a tough shell of a man that will refuse to open up or show his feelings for a long time, but when he does you realise its worth the wait. He doesn't throw around pet names and words of endearment a lot as he prefers to save them for moments when he feels it's right. When it's just the two of you and you're sharing a soft moment, sometimes referring to you as darling in his softer moments. Occasionally you might even get a cheeky baby.

Alexei

Another Russian baby, this adorable man will always call you pet names in Russian, it doesn't matter how much his English has improved. It just means more to him coming from his native tongue. His regular go to include голубь (Dove) and милый (Darling). Although, Murray taught him how Americans us Pumpkin as a term of endearment as a way to screw with you both and now it's one of Alexei's favourite things to call you. Jokes on Murray because seeing Alexei's face light up as he reaches for you and calls you pumpkin is enough to fall even more in love with him.

Murray Bauman

I feel like Murray cannot find it in himself to call you soft names to start off with. He's still confused by the fact that you even want to be with him, he's not going to possibly embarrass himself further using some pet names that might cross some invisible line he's set up for himself. He refers to as lady a lot, or another unique name that fits your looks of personality. Once this man is comfortable and more secure in your relationship I think the names would still stay light and not too sensitive. You would definitely get honey a lot, I don't think Murray would be able to resist yelling through the house when he gets home, "Honey, I'm home!"

Robin Buckley

Robin would also keep her pet names generic just like her bestie Steve, but less out of originality and more just to play it safe. Robin would have some insecurities going into a relationship after all the careful steps she took just to get to where you two are now. She is hesitant at first to say the wrong thing so she sticks to a lot of sweetheart and babe. One day you were spending time together and she slipped up and called you buttercup. She panicked for a second worrying what you would think of the nickname, but seeing your smile wiped all of those worries away and it became one of her favourite pet names so far.

Argyle

Okay so we all know this cutie is not going to call you any conventional pet names unless he's sober which is not very often. You're going to get a lot of my dude and bro but he does really mean it affectionately with you. Other than that you're definitely going to get a lot of made up names that mean absolutely nothing but to him they mean a lot; wicked lady, cream puff, anything. He would totally refer to you as "my queen" when he lets you into the van which he refers to as your chariot. Your favourite pet name would be the time he said, "My pretty girl is gonna get all the pizza she wants" he couldn't understand your reaction as you couldn't think of what to say next after hearing Argyle call you his pretty girl.

Henry/001

I whole heartedly believe this man would refer to you as pet. He does mean it endearingly but he also can't resist how you scrunch your nose up at hearing the teasing term. He also uses a lot of "My little..." whether it be bird, bunny, dove. He constantly feels the need to protect you and he shows that in his terms of endearment by referring to you as small and innocent. I know this man would call you his good girl, and you will have to pry that thought out of my cold dead hands.

A/N: Hope you guys like this! Reminder that if you want to be tagged in future Stranger things posts or other preferences to let me know in the comments and ill create a tags list :)

[multific]

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/

[jamesmcalover]

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

[medievalharlot]

Red Lace 彡 Dmitri Kravinoff x F!reader

Pairing: Dmitri Kravinoff x f!reader

Synopsis: Your soon-to-be husband gets drunk off eating you out

Tags: Smut 18+ minors dni, arranged marriage, pre-timeskip!Dmitri, reader is a virgin, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, panty stealing, premature ejaculation, Dmitri has daddy issues, pussy drunk Dmitri

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting on Tumblr and I am pretty nervous to do so. Still trying to figure this thing out. I will write an introduction later this week but feel free to leave requests for any Fred Hechinger character. I hope Dmitri isn’t too ooc. Please leave a comment!

He should have known this day would come. Dmitri wasn’t strong or brave. Not like Sergei was. He had to be useful to his father somehow. What better way to make himself useful than through a marriage? A perfect way to get a solid alliance and carry on the Kravinoff name. There had been hints every now and then. Snide comments like ‘A woman would do you good’ or when his father's guests came over to his club, he would always point out that they had a pretty daughter whenever Dmitri got introduced. It got to him every now and then, but he eventually just concluded it wouldn't go anywhere. Ever since he turned eighteen his papa kept talking about a marriage, usually when he messed up or had to be reminded what of a dissapointment he was to him. Sergei was his ideal son, and Dmitri was nothing like him. 

It did take him by surprise when he saw his father’s guest Mikhail, having a girl with him. He wasn’t aware Mikhail had remarried? You seemed awfully young to be his wife but it wasn’t anything Dmitri hadn’t seen before. The girl seemed more around his age, maybe a few years younger, but you were dressed like a middel-aged woman. A fur-lined coat hung around your bare shoulders, your dress was modestly just above the knees and your neck was adorned with an expensive necklace. From the stage where he was on he couldn’t quite make out your face. It didn’t matter though, his father would pull him off to introduce him soon anyway.

The music was quite loud when you entered the club. Your father had dragged along. An odd place to meet your future husband. Deep down you opposed the idea of getting married, deep down you wanted to run away and never see your family or their business again. A cherished fantasy that would play in the back of your mind during moments like this. A voice pulled you back to reality. Like a siren singing you to your doom. Your eyes scanned the room in search of the voice. The room was decorated with black and gold furniture that had probably cost a fortune. Something about the expensive look made you feel out of place. Father had dressed you in the most expensive clothes that were once your mother’s clothes but every single one of his partners knew he was broke. Luckily, he had a pretty daughter with a well-known name. Your family had been a powerful business for generations until your father took over. An idiot that had a gambling addiction and a lust for expensive women. The relationship between your parents had never been good and even when she was alive your father had countless affairs he didn’t even care about hiding. After your mother passed it only got worse. Not that you cared, your father certainly didn’t care about you.

And now you were here, in a club in London about to meet your future husband. He had told you during the car ride here. You didn’t protest, you knew better than to piss off your father. Having you meet this man with a bruised face wouldn’t be beneath him. Besides, you did not know any better than this. Your entire life you were reminded you were a woman and the only use you had to the business was to marry. It did not mean you were happy about this marriage. The only thing you could do now is hope it wouldn’t be an old prick or an asshole. You would give him a child or two and go back to your own life.  His father had beckoned him offstage as soon as he finished his song. After telling the other musicians to continue playing Dmitri followed him to the booth his father liked to sit in. Mikhail and the girl were already seated. Her eyes were still gliding across the room. 

”Mikhail, Y/N, good to see you.” Dmitri’s father sat down in the booth, he followed after him. “You have met my son Dmitri right?” He was talking to Mikhail. They had met, once or twice. It had been a while since he had seen him though. Then his father turned to him. “I want you to meet Y/N. Your future wife.” 

Your eyes finally met. It was clear he didn't know about any of this, his eyes gave away his surprise. Before Nikolai had his son come over you feared you had to marry the old man. A wave of relief washed over you when you saw him. Your father had told you he was a bastard. Figures Nikolai would probably never agree to marrying his older son to a broke family in need of money. Dmitri seemed alright, he had a sort of boyishness to him. He was dressed fully in black, the first button of his blouse open. His blonde curls hung slightly in his face. 

Dmitri's gaze went to his father, then back to you. Nikolai elbowed him, urging him silently to introduce himself. He swallowed the lump in his throat and offered his hand. “I'm Dmitri.” He shook your hand.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand in return. Quietly, you watched the men talk. Dmitri didn't say much either. 

“She's a pretty one, nice features.” Nikolai's accent was thick as he examined you like a broodmare. “You are lucky Dmitri. A pretty wife with an important name.” He chuckled as he raised his glass, the rest of the table following suit. “A toast, to this arrangement.”

It was a bitter reminder, the word arrangement. That was all this was, the both of you being pawns in a game. A means to an end. Your eyes drifted to Dmitri's again. He seemed just as unsure about this as you felt. “Vashe zdorov'ye.” You both spoke the words at the same time. Cheers to this shared imprisonment 

“Very well.” His father spoke again, sitting up straight. “You two get to know each other, we need to talk business Mikhail.” There was a seriousness in his voice. You turned to gaze at your father who gave you a nod of approval. Nikolai had already waved his son off, he stood there waiting for you. Swiftly, you got up from your seat. 

“You two get to know each other.” As soon as they got out of earshot, Dmitri spoke up. His impression of his father was perfect. He led you to a room in the back. It had a desk, a sofa and a fireplace. The fire was softly crackling, warming up the room. 

“You sound just like him, impressive.” You remark, it was almost scary how much he sounded like him. The room was warm, you took off your coat. 

“Here, let me.” He clumsily took your coat and hung it on the coat hanger. “I uh—” He started his sentence, not sure what to say. “I promise I didn't have a say in this.” He looked at you again. In this light he noticed how beautiful your eyes were. They were kind, soft, comforting. 

“It is alright.” You sigh as you sit down on the sofa, placing your hands in your lap. “It is my duty to my family, I do not blame you Dmitri.” It was like you were reading a script. It saddened him. This was your world. His father had been strict after Sergei left, but at least he sort of had a say in his future. You had been raised to be a wife, his wife. 

“Dima. Call me Dima.” He sat down next to you, his eyes never left you. A moment of silence that felt like forever hung in the air. The only sound was the wood softly burning. The room had warmed up nicely, almost too hot. Or maybe that was just because Dmitri’s eyes had noticed your bare shoulders, your nice curves, your soft lips..

“Were you the one singing?” You eventually break the silence. “It sounded good, do you sing often?” You were clearly a bit nervous, the silence got to you and now you were trying to fill it up with words. 

“Yes, I run this place.” He smiled, almost boasting. That was one of the few things he was proud of. The club he ran. It was actually his father’s club, but he was the one managing everything. 

“I have never been to a club before, my father would kill me if I went to one of these places alone.” You chuckle, looking around the room once more. 

“You’ve never been to a club before? You seem old enough too.” He raises a brow, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as he places his arm behind you on the couch. It wasn’t a deliberate move, it just felt like the right thing to do. “You’re missing out.”

You laugh as well, shaking your head. “Really? I mean clubbing is only getting drunk and sharing a bed with strangers. My father says only women who are desperate go out clubbing.” You say. Your view of the nightlife was clearly formed by your father. Ironically, your father went to his club nearly every other week. 

“It can be fun, not everyone has sex with a strangers you know.” He says a little offended. He didn’t really think of his place like the regular club, you had to be on the list to be allowed in.

  “You don’t?” The question took him off guard, he didn’t expect you to ask that so straightforwardly. 

“Well, no. But—” He started before you cut him off.

“I have never.. you know.. done anything like that..” You kept your gaze away from him, instead staring at the fire. There was a hint of embarrassment in your voice. Most girls your age weren’t virgins anymore, but most girls your age didn’t live such a sheltered life. 

“Really?” He asked, he sounded surprised. Almost mocking. Dmitri had been with women before, not many. Most of them were pushed or paid to do so by his father. It was usually the same, the woman would help him cum and he would have to pretend he enjoyed the fake moans. He did enjoy it tho, it was a good way to relieve stress and it made his father proud in a weird way. 

“No?” You frown. It would be a lie to say you didn’t think about it nearly every week. You were a human like everybody else, you had your needs. Sometimes your fingers just weren’t enough to satisfy your cravings, leaving you feeling hot and bothered.  How the two of you ended up talking about this topic was a mystery to both of you, yet here you were. Gazes locked, a certain tension in the air as you continued to talk. You wanted to know more, the heat between your legs almost influencing your words. “You have?” Somehow you couldn’t say the words directly, but your curiosity remained. The chance to get the opinion about this subject was something you couldn’t let pass either.

“Well yes, I have done most stuff but I have never went down on someone..” He spoke, his eyes glancing at your lips. If you were going to be honest about this, he might as well be too. Somewhere in this conversation you scooted closer to him, your knee was touching his.

“Do you want to?” Oh you were being really bold now. Dmitri couldn’t lie, the thought of going down on someone made his dick hard every time it popped up in his mind. This time being no exception. The thought of going down on you made him almost whimper. He couldn’t even bring out the words as he looked at you, only giving a nod. Another silence hung in the air as you both looked at each other. 

“Do you want me to.. go down on you?” He asked hesitantly. You bit your lip, the question had the wetness pooling in your panties. “Please?” The word caught you off guard. He sounded so desperate. Without hesitation you leaned in to kiss him. If he was going to be your husband, might as well get this out of the way. With a certain neediness Dmitri leaped forward, his hand finding your hips. Your skirt had ridden up to your thighs. He kneaded the flesh as he continued to kiss you.

Eventually he broke away. Quickly he got on his knees. You were a bit taken aback by the fact that he was actually serious about this. Dmitri’s hands were on your thighs, slightly parting them to get a peek of your panties. Red lace. He had to take a breath so he wouldn’t cum in his pants right then and there. 

Before he continued he looked up at you again, his blue eyes were full of lust. “Are you sure?” He asked. He knew it was quite forward, three hours ago he didn’t even know you but he was already between your legs about to kiss your pussy. 

“Yes, yes please Dima.” You mumbled, spreading your legs even further. Dmitri’s fingers glided up your thighs, to the elastic of your underwear. Slowly, he peeled them down and balled them into his fist. Your cunt was sopping wet, crying for his touch. Who was he to deny her what she needed? He firmly placed his hands on your thighs to keep them apart, placing a kiss onto your clit. 

A strangled moan left your lips, spurring him on even more. Like a drunk man he attached his mouth to your pussy and started sucking. You had never felt anything like this. At home you had your share of toys you managed to hide from the housekeeper but it didn’t compare to this. You writhed under his touch, whimpers leaving your lips as he lapped at your sex, one of his hands leaving your thighs to insert a finger.  Your hands quickly found his hair, your fingers tugging at his golden curls. He tugged back, refusing to even come up for air at this point. It was surprising to you that this was his first time eating a girl out, despite his clumsy hands and licks he was rather skilled at it. “Dmitri.” You managed to mewl his name through pants and moans. 

Dmitri moaned onto your clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves sending shockwaves through your body. He was writhing against his pants, bucking his hips against nothing as he tried to chase his own pleasure. All he wanted to do was please someone in his life and actually be told he was doing a good job. From your reactions he was pretty sure you were enjoying yourself.

And enjoying yourself you were. Within a matter of minutes Dmitri had you as a moaning mess. Your dress was up to your belly, you had sunk down deeper into the sofa and you somehow lost one of your heels. If this was what oral sex felt like, you couldn’t wait until he fucked you. Dmitri kept pumping his index finger into you, drinking up your juices like it was the elixir of life. Completely pussy drunk he looked up at you, those blue eyes staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. It was the final push over the edge. You bit your lip, tugging even harder at his hair as you came on his tongue. He didn’t budge, keeping his mouth on your clit. Dead set on tasting you even when you came he stayed still.

When you came down from your high he came up for air. His lips were puffy and wet from your juices. You stared at each other for a moment before you spoke. “Do you need me to--” He cut you off. 

“No need for it anymore.” He said, looking down at his pants with a clumsy grin. You looked confused at him for a second. Oh. Oh..

You sat up straight, tugging your dress back down and put your heel back on again. Dmitri still sat on the floor, he wiped his mouth. Without even a knock both your fathers barged in. Nearly stumbling over your feet he got up to the couch. The men didn’t seem to notice something had happened, the fools. Your father pictured you as a perfect angel and Nikolai didn’t assume Dmitri had the guts to make a move. 

“Did you two get to know each other?” Nikolai asked. You stood, brushing your dress straight as you walked to grab your coat. 

“Yes sir. It was nice meeting you Dmitri.” You say, ever so formal. There was a slight flush on your face as his father helped you into your coat. The fake politeness was something that had irked Dmitri, if he only treated his mother like that.

  “We will talk about the wedding the next time we meet.” He spoke as he let you out of the room, leaving Dmitri alone. As soon as the door was closed he lifted the waistband of his pants ever so slightly to look at the mess he made in his pants. One of his fists was still curled around something. He opened it to find your lacy red panties. You had left without them on?! A chuckle left his lips. You were bolder than he pictured you to be. What a keepsake. He stuffed them into his pockets, he was certainly holding onto those. 

A next time didn’t come. Not until a year after the first meeting. A lot of things had changed. Dmitri got kidnapped and shortly thereafter his father died. You assumed he didn't plan on marrying anyone with his father not forcing him. Somehow you moved on from that night, at least you tried. Your father had been busy trying to find another match, until the both of you got invited to dinner by Dmitri. You were surprised to say the least, but also excited. The butterflies you felt on the way back home from the last meeting are flying around in your stomach again. 

With the best poker face you could manage you entered the club again, following behind your father. It looked exactly like last time. The same black and gold interior. Then you heard his voice. 

“It is nice to see you again Mikhail.” He shook your father's hand. “My condolences about your father Dmitri. He was a great man.” You heard your father say before you turned your head. You knew he was lying, your father didn't give a shit. Nikolai's death only meant assets that could be taken. 

“Y/N.” Dmitri called your name. “It is good to see you again.” He looked less boyish, more confident. His curls had been cut and slicked back. 

“Dmitri. Dima. It has been a while. I am sorry to hear about your father, a hunting accident.” You held his gaze. He stepped closer, he was holding something in his fist. 

“Ah well, at least papa died doing something he enjoyed.” He smiled, grabbing your hand. You had your palm flat, he placed something in it. A fabric. He got closer to whisper in your ear. “You left this last time we spoke.” His breath fanned against your ear, sending shivers down your back. You looked at your palm, it was your lacy red panties. Quickly you looked up at Dmitri, your face flushed slightly red. He had a smirk on his face. The night was still young, but you could tell as soon as he had you alone it would be a long one.

[yearsbecomingcool]

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…” 

[pascaloverx]

RAGE

Author's note: if you like this little sample of the fanfic idea, kraven x reader. Interact with the story, so I can see if I continue or not. this chapter includes mature content. minors do not interact!!!

Summary: You are secretly Dmitri Smerdyakov's bodyguard, though over time, you've developed a friendship with him. However, you share a complicated past with his brother, Sergei Kravinoff. Now that Sergei is back in town, who knows where this will lead you?

PREVIEW TWO

ONE (+18)

Sergei removes his shirt as you begin cleaning his wounds, ensuring they don’t get infected. His pained groans are like a beautiful melody to your ears.

"What brought you here? Aside from your undeniable talent for dragging your brother into trouble," you ask, noticing several bullet fragments lodged in his back.

Reaching for a specialized medical tweezer, you start extracting the shards. Sergei tenses, his body twitching under the sharp pain.

"Believe it or not, I came because I missed Dmitri," he mutters through gritted teeth, his voice strained yet oddly sincere. You can't see Sergei's face, but you can feel that he's hiding something. You know him too well to believe otherwise.

"No lies, Kravinoff. Tell me the real reason you're here, or I'll make you regret it," you say while pulling another bullet fragment from his back. He suddenly turns, catching your wrist in his grip. His touch is firm but not forceful.

"I missed the old times," Sergei murmurs, his hand sliding down your thigh before traveling up to your waist, pulling you closer.

"You’re trying to distract me so I’ll forget what I really want to know. That doesn’t work anymore," you reply, even as you find yourself leaning into his touch.

Sergei watches you with a smirk, clearly enjoying your attempt to resist. "Doesn’t seem like it’s not working," he whispers, his lips grazing your neck as his fingers toy with the fabric of your clothe near your neckline.

Your eyes meet his and is like fire meeting gasoline. His hands press against your chest with deliberate firmness, drawing a sharp gasp from you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain control, but his touch burns through the fabric of your clothes, unraveling whatever resolve you had left.

His lips press against your neck, deep and deliberate, his teeth nearly grazing your skin. You grip his back tightly, your nails digging into his flesh, drawing a low groan from him. You can feel the warmth of his blood on your fingertips—your nails must have broken skin—but if Sergei is still the same, you know he’s reveling in the pain. His body has always been too resilient, turning him into someone who finds pleasure in just a little bit of suffering.

"Sergei, why are you here?" you murmur, pulling him closer, an insatiable urge building inside you—a craving to taste his lips.

"If I tell you," he breathes, trailing kisses upward, his mouth dangerously close to yours, "you’ll want to kill me."

You grip his face, your nails digging into his skin as you force him to look at you. "Does this have anything to do with your brother?" you growl, your teeth nearly grazing his cheek.

"I'm hunting someone—someone who had the nerve to use Dmitri to provoke me. I came to make sure he stays safe," Sergei admits, his tone carrying that infuriating certainty, as if he knew this would enrage you.

Your hand slides down to his throat, squeezing tightly. "You son of a bitch," you snarl. Sergei tilts his head back, his breath hitching—but not in fear. If anything, he seems to enjoy the pressure of your fingers around his neck. His hands grip your waist, yanking you onto his lap, pressing your bodies together. You could kill him. You should kill him. But instead, you release his throat, letting him gasp for air.

"I would never put my little brother in danger," Sergei rasps as soon as he can speak. Your hand flies toward his face, ready to slap him, but he catches your wrist mid-swing. Before you can react, he tugs you forward, his grip firm on the back of your neck. His lips crash against yours in a heated, desperate kiss—as if he’s trying to silence your fury, or maybe just redirect it.

As you are consuming each other in a fiery kiss, you take Sergei's hand and puts it over your panties. You press his fingers against your panties making it clear how wet you are. "I want you to feel how this night could have ended if you were a better man, but you're still the same pathetic guy who only thinks about himself," you say looking into Sergei's eyes as you abruptly move away from him. He seems immersed in your scent and your touch as he tries to understand what mistakes he keeps making.

You storm out of Dmitri’s apartment, leaving Sergei behind. You almost lost yourself again, entangled in his grasp, but you refuse to make the same mistake twice. Gritting your teeth, you get into your car and speed toward the venue where Dmitri should be finishing his performance.

There are security guards stationed at the entrance, but you’re too focused to acknowledge them. Your priority is making sure Dmitri is safe. As soon as you step inside, your eyes find him on stage, his presence radiant, as if the entire room brightens around him. He’s singing Fly Me to the Moon—the same song that was playing when you first met him.

"And now, this special song is for my favorite person," he announces, his voice filled with warmth as he plays the piano. He looks happy, at peace.

But then, you notice a disturbance near the stage. Something feels off. And of course, your weapon is still at Dmitri’s apartment. You’ll have to make do.

Your eyes scan the room quickly, and you spot a couple dining nearby. Without hesitation, you snatch the knife from the man’s hand and bolt toward the first suspect, driving the blade into his throat. Chaos erupts. Smoke fills the venue as screams echo around you.

People panic, scattering in all directions, but you keep your focus on Dmitri. He’s searching for you with wide, worried eyes, pushing through the confusion.

“Y/N!” Dmitri shouts, trying to reach you. But you don’t have time for distractions. Two more attackers rush toward you, and you brace yourself.

“Dmitri, get down!” you yell, dodging the first strike and countering with a swift move that takes out one of the assailants.

The smoke obscures your vision, making it harder to predict the next attack. When you finally reach Dmitri, he suddenly calls out— “Behind you!”

You react instantly, spinning around and using a defensive maneuver to block and counter. The force of the impact sends you crashing onto one of the tables. Your attacker lunges at you, but you wrap your legs around his torso, using the leverage to land a series of sharp, precise blows to his face. His movements grow sluggish under the assault.

As soon as he falters, you release your grip, shifting your weight to land a powerful kick to his legs, forcing him to his knees. Without hesitation, you grab hold of his head and snap his neck with a sharp, decisive motion.

The body drops. The room is silent. You turn to Dmitri—only to find him staring at you, frozen in shock. His face is pale, his expression unreadable. But his eyes, once filled with warmth, now hold something else entirely.

"Who are you?" Dmitri breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as he looks at you like a stranger.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

You are never a mistake

Dmitri Smerdyakov x betrothed!reader

warning : kissing, hurt/comfort, cuddling, emotional, abuse (beating), family problems

Summary : Dmitri thought for a moment that he would be accepted by his father, but when he felt the blow and his wife's intervention almost backfired, the Kravinoff son realized that he had to become strong, not weak. For his love, for someone who loved him as he was, he himself would stand up to his father no matter what a disappointment he was.

info : Finally the first one-shot for Dmitri the cute little beaten up bastard who just needs a little love. I hope you enjoy reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many couples around the world meet in cafes while they are both reaching for coffee, looking for life books in the library.

Maybe at a party or through friends, there are moments that last forever and are cherished when you find your partner for life, a relationship that becomes a marriage and an eternal bond with the exchange of rings.

Something that symbolized love and strength a bond when you had your own family maybe even about to start and then there were still the couples that met and a shadow seemed to lie over them forever, a shadow that had a name and didn't even seem to be happy for the love of their own child.

The first time they had met was in their music store, the best and biggest in New York, a store for the elite and those who could afford it.

An old family store that was the heart of every musician and singer from strings to wind instruments to keys and to microphones and stands.

A business that adapted to the talent.

Behind the counter, glancing up every now and then to greet the new buyers, she had seen him first, the slightly wavy blond hair, the cute nose, the little smile on his lips and the gentle demeanor.

The first time she had seen him, she had dared to leave her seat and come to him, seeing how he looked a little lost as he stood in the piano section.

She knew the feeling of being lost in a place you were interested in, not quite knowing whether to move or stand still.

The first time she had heard him play in her shop was the day she no longer saw her customer as just a customer, she saw his strength, his art, his beauty as he seemed to be absorbed in playing the piano.

There was a talent, a dedication in it and his voice, that voice she could have listened to for hours, made her hum along even when it seemed to be just the two of them in her shop.

,,A wonderful talent, really beautiful" her praise came from the purest heart...but for him, for Dmitri Kravinoff, it was the first time anyone had recognized him in what he was good at.

It was the first time for Nikolai's son that someone had inspired him in what he did and it was the first time that he lost his heart to her on the spot.

The day they exchanged numbers so that he could deliver the piano she had chosen to the club and also so that he could take her out for a meal at the end of the day.

It was on that day that two people had found each other and that only some time later it was more than just a relationship and fleeting dates, it was a bond between the two young people to whom the world was open...or so it seemed at first glance.

For the first few months it was like that, moving in together, partying, having fun, traveling everywhere, gifts that went from expensive to cheap to homemade and then to something more intimate the more they opened up and trusted each other.

The more she realized who his family was, what he was, but most of all what he had experienced, his ,,I-I understand if you hate me now...I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to leave” surprised her but most of all hurt her that he gave up on him so easily.

That her talented, precious, wonderful, gentle Dmitri, who kissed her on the forehead every morning.

Who did everything you could do with her and who dedicated every song in his club to her with such love and kindness, thought so little of himself.

Who had hurt him so much?

Who hurt him so much that every loud noise made him flinch, that he almost cried during an argument over trivial things and how he hated it when animal documentaries came on TV, little things she would have overlooked but with what she knew she just wanted to hold him in her arms.

Who had hurt him so much that he saw himself as nothing, which she tried to talk him out of every time ,,Dmitri my beautiful star I don't care who your family is, it's us who are together and not your last name” she tried to explain to him that he was the most important thing she had.

That her kisses and hugs, her words and gestures had the same loving effect as he had on her, that they had each other and when she threatened to kiss him every time he thought something like that again.

Dmitri finally seemed to find his smile again, ,,Do it," he just said, and he pulled her into a kiss as they lay cuddled together on the couch.

Together they gave each other the support they needed, Dmitri kept her motivation up whenever she wanted to give up with her msuik and she lovingly told him every day how good he was, that he was loved and above all that he was not alone.

The two of them in the club they had built with Dmitri's family money was their common pride, a club for the rich customers of the city.

A club where she could recommend her regular customers and the best entertainment was guaranteed with his piano and singing as well as her violin playing which made for a pleasant atmosphere.

Almost every evening, the two of them stood on the small stage and performed their harmony, ,,I dedicate this song to my beautiful fiancée,” he announced, while she joined in with her violin and the soft music amused the guests.

His blue eyes kept going to her, the smile was returned and she gave him a wordless ,,I love you” which he reciprocated, it couldn't have been better for the couple... until the moment when Dmitri's eyes fell on a man, a certain someone who came into his club and almost made the Russian play the wrong music.

With a hand movement that made the music continue to play by itself from the equipment hanging on the walls, and she saw how he smoothed out his jacket.

Everything will be fine, she thought he wanted to tell him, but he had already gone to his father, who had sat down in one of the recesses in the walls, looking directly at the stage from which she also came down to follow her fiancé.

Nikoali was a man of strength, a man you didn't want to mess with and yet there was no avoiding him, ,,Father, we're glad you're here, can I offer you something?” Dmitri asked and got a hug and a gesture she didn't get instead Nikolai gave the back of her hand a kiss and she gave him a quick friendly look.

It seemed that Dmitri was the only thing keeping her future father-in-law from killing her-what a luck.

But as long as Dmitri was happy and had his father, the two should get along, ,,I'll get a few glasses,” she let the men know as Nikolai gave his son a bottle of expensive wine.

A gift of value not from the heart but it made no sense to the son his father was here and happy that was all that mattered...so she thought.

It was just a moment when she pulled out the wine glasses in the kitchen at the back of the club, not wanting to take any more advantage of the waiters who had a long shift ahead of them.

The glasses in her hands and a smile on her lips, she heard the muffled noise and a crash, rushing back into the main room she saw Nikolai had pushed Dmitri against a wall, knocking over the table and no one was doing anything.

,,Dmitri! Let him go!” she shouted at the older man, afraid that he would seriously hurt his son, because the horrible stories that sent shivers down her spine told her everything she needed to know about the underworld boss.

Her fiancé's attempts to get free were unsuccessful, so without hesitation she picked up one of the glasses and threw it against the wall next to Nikolai, ,,Let him go and get out of our club,” she continued to threaten.

An empty threat that amused the dark-haired man, who was already lifting the next glass when he let go of his son, who slumped to the floor, barely able to support himself.

,,Even your bitch has more courage than you, shame on you,” Nikolai said to his son and walked past her with an appraising look, hurrying to her fiancé as soon as the door closed and he fell onto the nearest chair.

,,Are you all right? To the hospital?” she asked, trying to wipe the blood from his lip with a slapped hand from the blow his father had given him.

He looked terrified, as if all joy and hope had drained out of him once more, but he just shook his head before he simply poured out a tearful ,,You're fine” into her arms and she embraced the couple just lying in each other's arms for a few moments.

They held each other until Dmitri calmed down and his tears had stoppe.

The decision to close the club early was hardly one because it looked like a mob had gone wild there and not just Nikolai, ,,Your heart is too big for the world,” she told him as they rode back to the apartment together in a cab.

Her hand didn't leave his and stroking his head at least reassured him but the look in his eyes, she had never seen such hatred, whether it was just the confrontation or something else she couldn't say.

Whatever it was it seemed to keep him occupied the whole time no matter what they both did, no amount of embracing or kissing could break his blcik until the moment they lay in bed together.

She cuddled up to him and he gave her a good after kiss she couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going to happen.

Even though she felt safe in his arms, he stroked her side until she fell asleep like he did every night, usually soothing them both.

The sound of the door opening and closing was something she didn't realize, didn't realize how Dmitri had to do something.

It was one thing when he was pushed around, he had been pushed around all his life but now that he had his fiancée he wouldn't let his father get away with it.

Knowing she was safe in the apartment sleeping peacefully.

It was the Kravinoff who set off through the city at night to his father and it was only the clanging and rattling of cupboards that woke his fiancée from her slumber.

,,Dmitri?” the question came cautiously as she groped beside her but he wasn't there, but the sounds from the apartment frightened her.

No one had a key except for the two of them, pulling the covers aside she reached for the water bottle next to her bed.

Quietly and carefully venturing out of the bedroom, she saw the shadow in the hallway that seemed to be raging in the kitchen.

She should have called the police, anyone, but what if Dmitri was in danger?

She was ready to sleep with the bottle tighter if ever, she cried out in fear when she saw Dmitri, who seemed to be looking for something in the kitchen and looked completely exhausted.

,,What the hell? Dmitri darling what are you doing?” she asked putting the bottle down.

Seeing the torn clothes, the fuzzy hair, the black eye but most of all the bloody knuckles as if he had hit himself or better said as if someone had hit him.

Seeing what he had failed to find, however, she grabbed the first aid kit and went with him to the couch, ,,I well...I told my father never to insult you again and then there was a little altercation” he began to confess as she gave a makeshift dressing to his wounds which fortunately did not require stitches or hospitalization.

His courage touched her as she realized that he had pushed away the person he had once needed the most for her, ,,I've never loved you more and well...next time we'll both beat him up” she suggested and felt the kiss he gave her as they both laughed at the idea.

But in his eyes the look of gentleness and love was there again and not the hate ,,I love you too" he replied and she pressed a kiss to the bandage on his hand which should make the pain less.

At least Dmitri didn't seem to be in pain, not when they kissed, not when she continued to nurse him and he proudly told her how he had told his father off.

Not when his hand stroked the engagement ring on her hand as they made love and finally seemed free of the gray of the Kravinoff family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ @tori111777 , @bel0ved-heretic , @amecchii , @xxxibgdrgons , @lordbelzeebub , @simonsrealwife

[marsmaximoff]

🎄; 25th of december ❄︎⋆˚⊹☃︎

content warning: fem!reader. pure fluff. many curses. reader is 20 and calls him “dym” as a short name, he calls her “love, darling and my love”. they’re dating. let me know if i missed something.

word count: 732 ❣️

author’s note: i wasn’t planning on posting anything for Christmas, but i got this idea and i had to write it. so, i apologize if the quality is not that good, as i usually spend days on my writings while this was all done on a matter of hours. also, english is my third language, so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed as always. thank you so much for the support on my last post, and merry christmas everybody! 🤍 happy hanukkah, kwanzaa, diwali or any other celebrations too 🫶🏻 and if you don’t celebrate anything, have a happy end of the year ✨ p.s.: god im in love with dmitri and almost no one is posting anything, i’ll probably post more of him. anyways, enjoy!! <3

the silk grazes my fingertips as i stretch my arm. i tentatively palm the bed looking for some warmth, for him. but the sheets and pillows are the only things left around me.

the screen of my phone clears up as i blink. 11:28 a.m. with a bit more of focus, the notifications slowly reveal themselves and my eyes travel through them searching for his name. nothing. he’d have texted me if something had requested his presence back at the office. although, he couldn’t have business to deal with on Christmas, right? not this soon, at least.

the pearly white snow greets me through the window making me stand up with a smile. how gorgeous. i make my way to the kitchen to grab something to drink while knotting my robe, and the shiny decor welcomes me effusively. i don’t realize at first, but a big and unfamiliar shadow catches my attention from the corner of my eye while i open the carton of juice.

“holy fuck. dym?”

our christmas tree, stunning as always, lays now almost drowned in presents. in fact, the stack is such, that i can’t even make out the floor for a good four-five steps. some light chuckles behind my back fill the room with the warmth i’ve been craving since i woke up. “beautiful, isn’t it?”

i turn around to dmitri sitting on the couch, staring at me with a huge grin. as if that number of gifts was the most normal sight in the world. “what the hell?” “you’ve had me waiting, darling. did you sleep good?” he asks affectionately.

“what are you, on your Santa Claus era?” i say looking at the presents again. he grants me that laugh that i adore so much as i try to give them a quick count, but after the twentieth, it starts to feel simply bonkers. they’re not even small ‘little treats’, oh no. there’s large boxes and bags everywhere.

“seriously, are you giving gifts to your whole fucking building? or is every one of your men getting one?”

“wrong. and. wrong” he says proudly, and once he’s in front of me, he just smiles. there are obvious love and joy in his eyes, which sends a cute fluttery feeling to my heart. “dmitri-“ his lips seal my words with a gentle kiss. “merry christmas, love”. a sparkle makes space on his gaze that could so easily compete with the star of the tree itself. wait. oh. oh. there’s no way.

his hands take mine and softly walk me towards the swimming pool of gifts. then, he sits close by and points at them with his head. “come on, darling. you’ve had me feeling all impatient”. he looks so excited. so cheerful. but i can’t help the slight guilt that takes over me. “dym, you’re crazy. tell me these are not only for me. you can’t- god do you even have an idea of how many there are?!” “40”. he doesn’t even take a single second to think about it. seriously, what the actual fuck? “two for every christmas i couldn’t spoil you in” this has to be a damn dream. “we’ve been friends since school!” i say grinning. “but we weren’t dating. so it doesn’t count. i wanted to make it special.” “you really didn’t have to” i refute. “i wanted to. please don’t make me wait anymore i need to see your reactions”. with a final glance, i turn around and grab the first one. “ohhh you’ll love that one!”

how can he be so cute? he wasn’t wrong, tho. it was a special edition of one of my favorite books. during the next hours, i go one by one, filling the room with gasps, yells, curses and many “oh my good”s and “thank you so much”s.

by the end of it, i’ve got clothes, books, headphones, plushies, a phone, jewelry, plane tickets, merchandising, signed stuff from famous people i love, and the cherry on top; a new car.

“you are mad. i love you so much but you’re mad” i say hugging him still shocked. “madly in love with you, you mean” he answers pulling back. “you liked them, then?” “loved them” he gives me another kiss, longer this time. “good. merry christmas, my love. i love you” he adds.

he can only hope i’ll love the ring just as much.

[capitanooos]

crawling back to you // dmitri kravinoff x reader

-`♡´- pairing : dmitri kravinoff x reader

-`♡´- summary : you attempt to move on after an unfortunate breakup, yet the date does not go as planned at all.

-`♡´- warnings : erm angst, sad, alcohol, abuse (nikolai ;-;), its a couple of punches, mentions of blood, flashsbacks, crying dima (yes), idk what else lmk if i missed sum

-`♡´- notes : lowk hate this too! now imma drown in more hw

-`♡´- word count : 4400

song mentioned: do i wanna know (hozier)

dont translate, modify or repost my work. you do not have permission. not my gif

“Darian offered to take you out again tomorrow.” Selena, your best friend, spoke from her bathroom as you laid on her bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips at the mention of the man. 

The guy she set you up with had been texting you all week. He was handsome, and from the one date you had with him you judged him to be a nice man. But it was too soon, or so you thought. You’d been single for six months now after being in a relationship for nearly two years with someone who you believed was the love of your life.

“Or let me rephrase that. Darian told me he has reserved spots at this really fancy place downtown, and he’d love to take us there on a double date with one of his mates.” Selena walked out and fell down next to where you were rotting. “And I’ve kinda already agreed to it on your behalf so, clear your schedule, it’ll be fun!” 

You reached for a pillow and shoved it in her face, groaning at the thought of having to go out instead of spending the night in bed with a mediocre movie and a cheap bottle of wine from Tesco.

“Fine, but only because you’re coming.” 

So when the next evening your doorbell rang, you walked up to it to reveal Darian in a suit with flowers in his hand, letting him in with a smile. Taking the flowers from him and putting them in a vase before grabbing your bag and heading out of the door on his arm.

“So, where will we be going?” you asked as you got in his car, clicking the seatbelt in place as you heard him laugh softly. 

“It’s a surprise, beautiful.” He said, smiling brightly before starting the car and taking off into the city. 

 The lights of the city flew past as you crossed town, the streets were busy and people were everywhere. The soft hum of music and the wind soaring around the car calmed your building nerves, everything would be fine. It’s just a date, you know him!

As the car stopped and you got out, you looked at the setting sun, the last beams of warmth reflecting on your skin as you took a deep breath. You reached for Darians arm, walking to the mystery place as you talked about your day, smiling when he complimented your dress and smiling even brighter when your eyes landed on Selena, who stood next to a man you didn’t recognise. 

You’d been so endorsed in conversation with Darian that you had not noticed the street you were in, you had not noticed what building you were about to enter as your friend talked your ears off about how hot and sexy this guy with her was. 

It was only once you stepped inside and saw the hosts’ face that you looked around and felt your heart drop into your stomach. You swallowed thickly as you were led to your table, trying to cover up your emotions with a smile when you saw Darian give you a concerned look. When he turned his back to you, you shot Selena a look that she’d describe as pure terror. 

“This is the Chameleon.” you whispered and watched her eyes grow in shock.

“Maybe he’s not here. You’ll be fine.” she whispered as she squeezed your hand under the table before looking back at her date, Maxwell.

Sure. What were the chances? Besides, the place was packed. Even if he was here, it didn’t mean he’d have to see you. 

A couple of deep breaths and sips of water later you finally joined the ongoing conversation that had already started between your friend and the two men infront of you. 

“What about you, [Name]?” You looked at Maxwell confused, not grasping the meaning of his question.

“Oh [Name]? [Name] got her standards pretty high.” Selena smiled as she jokingly poked her elbow in your side while you shook your head no in protest. Both of your reactions got a laugh from the two men, them musing to know more about this. “She’s being modest.”

“Even if I am, I don’t think that this is the proper conversation material to talk about on a date.” You looked at your best friend with a smile. 

The music coming live from the stage set a calm atmosphere as they found a new topic to converse about. Occasional laughter ringing through the busy room as they each shared stories. 

Apparently Darian and Maxwell were old school buddies, having met at a private school in the States, like Selena and [Name] were too. Turns out they were two stinking rich kids, coming from old family money, so no wonder they drove expensive cars and had the money to take two middle class girls out on a date to the Chameleon. London's most pristine club and restaurant. The place where people nearly fought for a place to dine. 

As the night progressed, the conversation turned back to the first one they had that evening. 

“I’m still wondering, [Name] darling. What was that earlier about your high standards?” Darian looked at you with a raised brow and a cocky smile. By now all of you had some drinks and the awkwardness had fallen away. 

You smiled as you shook your head. Memories you had tried your best to bury crawled back to the surface. Darian held your gaze as he watched you sink into memory. 

“I think Selena just meant that my ex treated me very well and it’ll be really hard to find someone to top that.” you politely brushed the topic off but someone besides you protested.

Now it was Selena's turn to aggressively shake her head as she spoke up, a wicked grin on her face as she looked at you before looking at Darian. 

“Oh no, her ex was this extremely rich guy who wrote her songs, like the best love songs ever. Dedicated all of his songs to her when he performed. Named his one and only album after her, with songs all about and for her. He didn’t make a single penny from it either, because everything he earns from it gets put in this girl's bank account.” you stared at your drink while Selena spilled the beans, your cheeks flushing a bright red as you felt your throat swell as more memories flooded back to you. 

Somewhere far away you heard Darian and Maxwell’s reactions, you were too zoned out to make out what they were saying. Never would you have thought that hearing those words so literally would bring you back to six months ago, to the moment of the break up.

His father had warned you once, when you’d been dating Dmitri for only two months. He believed you weren’t good enough for his son. Too poor, too lowly born, your place in society wasn’t prominent enough. He had threatened you, and you had Dmitri convince you that it’d be alright, his father wouldn’t hurt you, ever. He’d make sure of it himself. 

Somehow you managed for almost two whole years before his father saw the two of you together again. He’d stormed over, grabbed you by your collar, raised his hand before Dmitri shoved his father away from you and took the blow that was meant for you. That however, had only angered his father more, and before you knew it you were kneeling over a bruised and bloody Dmitri. 

You had taken him home, cleaned up his wounds before sitting him down for a serious conversation. 

“Maybe it’s better if we… Don’t continue this relationship, for the sake of both our safety.” you had started and it soon escalated to where you were now. Both crying and unwilling, but knowing that deep down, it’d be for the better.

“So the last two years were nothing?” Dmitri’s soft, broken voice rang through the room and you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. 

“It wasn’t nothing, it was everything, but Dmitri, look what has happened because of me.” your voice cracked as you looked at his face. Bruised and bloodied, his eyes so full of pain. 

Dmitri shook his head, looking at you with such desperation that had more tears streaming down your face. He walked towards where you stood near the window that overlooked all of London from his penthouse. 

“This isn’t because of you-” he grabbed your hands in his ever so gently, tears falling out of his eyes with no shame as he tried to reason with you.

“Yes it is, Dmitri! You heard what your father said.”

“So what? Why should it matter what my father said?”

“You know why. We’re done, Dmitri.” you spoke as you pulled your hands from his.

It had hurt you so much to speak those words. You didn’t want to leave him, but you loved him too much and you refused to see him get hurt because of you again. 

“I promised to protect you.” 

“You’ll protect the both of us if we go our separate ways.” you turned around to leave.

“Do you love me?” he asked as he gently grabbed your wrist, his big, tear filled eyes looking at you.

You nodded as you faced him one last time. Cupping his face as you looked him in the eye. 

“I love you more than anything, Dmitri, and that’s the exact reason why I have to let you go.” you said softly as you kissed his forehead before turning around and making your way out of the apartment. Breaking the heart of the love of your life as well as your own.

When you snapped back to reality you found three pairs of eyes on you as you tried to blink away tears. You smiled as you stood up and excused yourself, quickly walking through the familiar sets of tables as you made your way to the restrooms. 

Tears still threatened to fall out of your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror in front of you. 

It still hurt too much to think about him, hearing Selena talking about him, and being in his place. The place where you had made so many memories together. The place where every single metre linked back to him. The fact that one unlucky step could land you right in front of him, or worse, his father. 

Your heavy breaths calmed ever so slightly as you ran your hands under the cold water, trying to empty your mind from the unwanted thoughts that pried and crammed into your mind. 

“It’s okay.” you kept repeating in your mind as you dried your hands and fixed your appearance. “It’ll be fine.” You whispered as you exited the restrooms, slowly walking back to your table. 

“[Name]? I knew Eliza wasn’t lying when she said you were here!” Your eyes landed on a familiar figure in front of you, one you loved dearly. You reached for the elder woman, embracing her as you sighed. “Oh Maragret,” you shook your head as you pulled back, brows furrowed, “I’m so glad to see you.” 

She tilted her head to the side as she took you in. You’d seen each other only once since the break-up, she was the only one who really knew all of the details of what went down. She offered you a soft, sad smile, which you returned.

“This seems like the last place you’d be after…” she left her sentence open for you to interpret and you laughed quietly while nodding. 

“I was kind of dragged on a double date with my best friend, didn’t know we’d be coming here.” you smiled awkwardly as you looked around you. The place hadn’t changed one bit. The same warm lights, the black and gold furniture, the same staff, the live music coming from the stage. Though now that you looked at the stage, no one was there, but you swore there was music before you rushed off to the restrooms.

Margaret ushered you back to your table, apologizing for interrupting your date and promising to see you soon before walking back to the bar.

As you sat back down you apologized, smiling softly. Darian offered you a smile as he asked if you were alright, you nodded before Selena dragged you into the conversation she was having with Maxwell. Something about her trying to prove to him how bad the public school experience was here in the UK. 

Your attention to the conversation was short cut as you heard music coming from the piano on the stage, closing your eyes as you took in the notes.

“Right, [Name]?” your eyes opened, looking at Selena and nodding. 

“Mhm? Oh yeah, high school here is tragic. Terrible, really. I wouldn’t wanna go through it again, not even for a million pounds.” 

Laughter erupted from the men in front of you as they watched the terror on your face at the thought of it. High school was tough.

“Do I wanna know? If this feeling goes both ways? Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you’d stay.”

All the colour drained from your face as the voice you’d recognize amongst thousands hit your ears. Your head snapped to the stage, and your eyes met with those bright blue eyes you knew all too well. 

“Darling we both know, that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

You were frozen as you looked at Dmitri, desperately searching his eyes for you didn’t know what. Of all the voices, all the impressions he could do, his own raw voice would always be your favorite thing. He knew that, he knew that very well, and it brought tears to your eyes as you felt your throat close up again. 

“Crawling back to you. Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do.”

The world could end this moment and you wouldn’t even notice. Everything around you fell away as he offered you a tiny smile, it was gone as quick as it came. 

“Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now I’ve thought it through.” 

You turned your head away, breaking eye contact, looking back down at the table in front of you with big eyes full of tears. It felt impossible to breathe as you grabbed beside you, hand grasping at Selena’s wrist. A look at you, the stage, and then back at you had her shaking her head as she went to embrace you, the two men in front of you completely forgotten as your mind raced at a million miles an hour. 

A young man walked up to you, awkwardly fiddling with the rings on his fingers as he shyly smiled at you. 

“Hello,” he spoke up, pulling you away from the work on your laptop and smiling up at him while sliding the headphones off your head. 

“Hi, can I help you?” your confused yet oh so bright smile had Dmitri look down at his feet for a second before meeting your eyes again. 

“Yes, I’m Dmitri Kravinoff.” he said, looking at you like you were a flower in the midst of a rotten field. 

The cool spring breeze ran through the air, blowing your hair into your face as you laughed at the young man softly. 

“Hello, Dmitri Kravinoff, I’m [Name]. What can I help you with?” you beamed up at him, oh so confused at the adorable man's intentions. 

Dmitri was at a loss for words for a while as he looked at you. He’d been admiring you from a far for about twenty minutes, being captivated by your beauty. You had seemed to be working here in the park cafe, writing away on your laptop, scribbling things in your notebook, occasionally sipping at your purple smoothie, nodding along to what he assumed was music playing in your headphones. 

“I uhm… You’re beautiful.” he stuttered out eventually, a slight flush on his cheeks as he tried his best to hold eye contact with you, “I was wondering if uhm…” he looked down at his hands again, twisting the ring on his pinkie as he stumbled over his words. 

You looked up at him, head slightly tilted as you smiled up at him brightly. “Well?” your soft voice rang through the air, bringing Dmitri back to earth. 

“I was wondering if you’d let me- if you’d maybe want to go on a date with me.” the way he looked at you with those big puppy eyes full of hope had you smiling at him so brightly that Dmitri thought he might faint.

The laugh that escaped from you, along with you shaking your head in delight made Dmitri bite the inside of his cheek nervously. 

“I’d… I’d love to, Dmitri.” you swore you saw him jump up a little before he balled up his fists in victory.

And so here you were, a week later, walking through the aquarium with the guy you’d been texting all week. Hand in hand, laughing and giggling as you looked at the countless fish, pointing out your favorites, and admiring the man illuminated by the blue of the water. How he knew you loved aquariums was a mystery to you but you loved it. 

You’d sat on a bench in front of a massive fish tank filled with lemon sharks and countless other fish as you talked for hours, you never fell silent, and if you did it was to recover from laughing too much. 

Afterwards he’d taken you out to dinner at some fancy place you had never heard of before.  You had the time of your life with him, Dmitri Kravinoff. 

Eventually when the awkwardness had fallen away, which only took about thirty minutes, everything he did, everything he said, came so shyly yet so naturally. He told you the silliest jokes, the best stories, and listened intently as you talked about your own life and told your own stories. Asking questions, taking everything you told him in, looking at you like you were the only thing that really mattered on this planet.

“You’re even, I’d say better, but that’s not even the right word to do you justice. You’re exceptional, special, truly captivating.” Dmitri had said as he walked with you all the way to your front door. He didn’t miss the blush that crept up on your cheeks as you smiled. 

“You yourself are a lot more than the shy boy that came up to me last week, you’re… intriguing and… very charming.” you smiled up at him as you stopped in front of your door. “Thank you for today, I haven’t had this much fun in a long while.” 

Dmitri basked in your words, his smile hadn’t left his face since earlier today. Just your mere presence had this effect on him that he couldn’t explain, and the way you looked at him had him absolutely in shambles, he loved it. 

“The pleasure is mine, you make for a great company. I loved every single second of being with you.” He watched you raise your head, a proud grin on your face as you looked him in the eyes. 

“Great, then we should do something like this again sometime soon.” 

As you said your goodbyes, you quickly got on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek before turning around and getting inside of your house, leaving a flustered and shocked Dmitri standing on your porch.

You didn’t remember that Selena had pulled you away from the table and back to the restrooms. You had been too out of it to fully register what she was saying or asking you. You’d just blatantly nodded as she talked, too lost in thought as everything came flooding back to you that you’d tried to suppress for the last six months. 

Everything was a blur when you walked back to the table but all of a sudden you sobered up, vision clearing, mind going panic mode when that cologne hit your nostrils.

“Darian Madden? Man you have not changed one bit!” The thick Russian accent of Nikolai Kravinoff surrounded your senses. You swallowed thickly as you let Selena walk you back to your seat, making yourself small as you sat down, hoping the elder Kravinoff would not notice you like his son did earlier. You felt Darians gaze on you, obviously confused about your second time getting emotional tonight.

“Last I saw you, you were this tall and running around with my Sergei.” Nikolai held up a hand beside him at the height of his shoulder, his smile dropped as he laid eyes on you. “You.” Your eyes slowly made their way to meet Nikolai’s.

You were certain that fear was written all over your face as you fisted your shaking hands in the skirt of your dress. 

“What are you doing here? Wasn’t I clear enough last time, girl?” Your breaths came in short shallow huffs as you were at a loss for words, closing and opening your mouth as your eyes darted between Nikolai and Darian, who was still looking at you in confusion. “Well?! Answer me, girl!” You gulped as Nikolai’s voice echoed through the now eerily quiet room, countless eyes on you as he awaited your answer.

“I… Here with Darian-” you yelped and you heard the gasps from other guests as Nikolai lifted you up by your collar, thumb pressing down on your airway as he did.

“Don’t lie to me! You’re here to see my son! Didn’t I tell you to leave him alone?!” Tears now streamed over your cheeks as you clawed at his hand, desperately trying to get him to release you.

“Woah woah! Your son? Her ex is Dmitri Kravinoff?” Darians voice sounded but you couldn’t give a shit about him right now. Your vision was blurring when you suddenly felt a fist colliding with your cheek. 

Screams erupted from around you and you heard the people scrambling to get out. In the corner of your eye you saw Maxwell pull Selena away from the scene. Your knees hit the ground and you gasped for air, a hand coming up to your cheek as the pain spread through your whole face. When you pulled your hand back you saw the red of your blood on it and you looked up at Nikolai, who already had you back up on your feet, ready to strike you again.

“No!” Before you knew it you were pulled back, vision going dark as your face was pulled into a soft material, a hand on the back of your head cradling you closer, shielding you from the danger. 

When Dmitri’s oh so familiar cologne hit your nostrils you closed your eyes, relaxing in his arms as if you hadn’t not seen him for six months, as if you weren’t broken up, as if his father hadn’t just almost choked you into unconsciousness before hitting you. 

“Dima…” You croaked out as a sob echoed through your chest, your hands tightly gripping at his dress shirt, tears staining the black material. You heard him quietly shush you while he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close and safe. “I…” your voice was quiet and strained, the words refusing to come out of your mouth. 

“Pathetic, always standing up for the trash.” you heard Nikolai scoff at his son, his footsteps approaching. Dmitri let go of you, gently pushing you back to where a now very shocked Margaret was standing. 

She took you in her arms as she watched how Dmitri dodged his fathers blow, instead only returning the favor and hitting his father square in the face. 

“You don’t get to talk about her like that! You do not get to hit her!” you heard Dmitri raise his voice at his father. Dmitri never raised his voice, not at you when you accidentally broke an expensive vase of his, not when you broke up with him, and especially never at his father even he belittled him to no extent, but that seemed to have changed when it came to you now. “That woman is the love of my life and thanks to you I lost her, and now you dare hurt her?!”

“If you had only looked, you’d have seen how amazing she is, how smart and caring. You’d have seen how much I love her! You’d have seen how much she loved me, for me. Something you never did.” you turned your head to look at Dmitri, his back was to you, but you could see Nikolai, glaring at his son as the blood dripped down his chin. “If you ever so much look at her the wrong way or dare lay a finger on her again, I will make sure it’s the last thing you do, papa.” You saw Dmitri ball his fist again, his fathers blood on his knuckles. 

Nikolai didn’t say a word before standing up straight and nodding at his youngest son. He just turned around and walked out as if nothing happened, not caring about the few remaining people that scrambled to get out of his way.

“[Name]” Dmitri’s hands cupped your face and you looked up at him with tears still in your eyes. “[Name], my love, I’m so sorry.” 

His gaze was so soft, his demeanour was so gentle. He was filled with fear as he searched your eyes, wiping away the tears that fell from your eyes. 

“I love you,” your whisper was barely audible but it was loud enough for Dmitri to break into a smile, his eyes lightening with happiness and hope as they darted to your lips. You returned his smile, clasping your hands on his shirt again before pulling him down into a kiss. 

God how you had missed this. The way he held you, his gentle nature, him. 

“You toughened up…” you whispered as you broke away from the kiss, giggling when he immediately chased your lips with his own, too eager for another kiss. 

“I promised myself if I ever got a second chance at making things right, I would not let him ruin it.” one of his hands brushed a lock of hair behind your ear as he spoke ever so softly. “I had to protect you.”

“Honey there was nothing for you to make right.”

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

dont forget to like and reblog 💕💕

dont translate, modify or repost my work. you do not have permission.

taglist: @earfq0ake (lmk if you wanna be added to any taglists :3)

[marrziy]

RAIO-X: Stranger Things

★: Hopper, Steve, Jonathan, Billy, Eddie e Enzo.

+18 leitores & leitoras.

Nenhum pouco de acordo com os imagines; neles, eu descrevo como convém. Aqui são apenas achismos meus, baseados no que aparenta para mim (com aquela dose de licença poética, pois amo um exagero).

★: Jim Hopper

24 cm — não se gaba, mas reconhece o colosso entre as pernas e tem orgulho dele.

Grossura: muito acima da média.

Do tipo que arromba e impressiona quando alojado dentro de algum buraco. Encaixado numa buceta, força os lábios tão longe que o inchaço é quase imediato. Já atolado num cuzinho, alarga tanto que deixa as bordas vermelhas e o formato da própria circunferência como lembrança.

Balança/Curvatura: reto e muito pesado.

Ao pulsar, é alavancado, mas, devido ao peso, nunca permanece de pé. Para colocar na boca, é necessário guiá-lo com as mãos até os lábios ou curvar-se perante a glande.

Cor: alguns tons mais escuros que a pele; fica mais aparente quando está mole. A cabecinha é rosada.

Veias: grossas e de um azul visível na base, mas afinam no caminho, deixando de protuberar no comprimento.

Glande: quando mole, a ponta é completamente coberta pelo prepúcio; quando duro, é exibida até a metade. Se forçada durante a masturbação ou penetração, a cabecinha é totalmente exposta. O pré-sêmen acumulado costuma estalar, produzindo um som molhado no ritmo da movimentação.

Pau babão. No auge da dureza, vaza muito. Você saberá que é o mais gostoso/a do recinto aos olhos dele se conseguir deixá-lo de farda molhada, sendo que cueca úmida é o padrão para o chefe de polícia.

Pelos: Não liga muito para eles (diferente do bigode). Raramente depila a virilha e, quando o faz, é com aparador barato, cuja eficiência não é lá grande coisa.

Bolas: Pesadas e rechonchudas; espancadoras de quadril. Poluição sonora garantida caso o sexo seja bruto.

Porra: Goza até transbordar.

Sêmen branco, salgado, espesso e mil por cento fértil. Jorros pouco potentes, mas o esperma é abundante e ininterrupto; se Jim atinge o ápice, são uma ou duas sequências de jatos grossos até secar, sem pausas. Caso você tenha útero e não queira engravidar, camisinha ultra-resistente já!

★: Steve Harrington

19.5 cm — longe das réguas, ele arredonda para 20.

Grossura: na média.

O pau de Steve marca. Mesmo amolecido, é volumoso, e, dependendo da calça, dificilmente passará despercebido. Há sempre um caroço esticando o tecido; é impossível sentar no colo dele sem sentir. Steve gosta quando reparam e faz questão de acompanhar o olhar baixo de quem nota.

Balança/Curvatura: reto e um tanto pesado.

Não é suave ao ponto de bater no abdômen, nem denso o suficiente para alcançar as coxas. Um cacete perfeitamente posicionado para meter.

Cor: comprimento pouco escuro, não chegando a inibir o vermelho da excitação. A glande segue a cor, em uma tonalidade levemente mais forte.

Veias: finas e pouco marcadas.

Glande: torneira humana! Escorre pré-sêmen pra caralho sob pressão e umedece da ponta às bolas. É muito sensível na dureza; o simples roçar da cueca deixa o Harrington eriçado. Tem prepúcio, mas a pele só cobre a ponta por influência, quando Steve se movimenta ou quando é estimulado.

Pelos: por vontade de estar liso, nunca beirou uma lâmina, mas, para pegar mulher, caso a moça prefira, ele se dispõe a ficar com a virilha macia. Se você for um cara que quer mamar uma piroca lisinha: bye bye. Ele só move um dedo para agradar homem caso esteja extremamente apaixonado ou se o cara fizer muito o tipo dele.

Bolas: tamanho padrão. Boas de colocar na boca, pois não se espalham sem precedentes, e as chances de relar nos dentes são baixas. Steve as posiciona para cima na calça, aparentando ter mais conteúdo do que realmente tem lá dentro.

Porra: não desperdiça um Steve Júnior sequer.

Esperma líquido e transparente, de um amargor quase imperceptível, mas notável. Goza cargas fortes que vão fundo no interior de quem ele fode e raramente transborda, pois ele não deixa escorrer. Gosta de se despedir sabendo que deixou sua semente plantada nas entranhas de alguém.

★: Jonathan Byers

16 cm — brisado, já refletiu sobre ter mais saco que pinto.

Grossura: ligeiramente acima da média.

Cacete bastante responsivo, que vibra entre as paredes quentinhas de uma boceta e pulsa em tom de ameaça precoce no aperto de uma bunda. Muito enérgico e apressado, sem tempo para tirar a roupa!

Balança/Curvatura: maneiro e levemente curvado para cima. Super erguido, batendo no abdômen ao ser liberto. Pau fácil de manusear.

Cor: o comprimento apresenta uma tonalidade clara de pêssego, enquanto a ponta esbanja um rosa forte.

Veias: azuis, visíveis e pouco protuberantes.

Glande: metade superior de um coração, com globos perfeitos. Sem capuz e vagamente dobrada para cima. Gotas peroladas escorrem moderadamente da fenda, deixando-a brilhosa numa nota cativante de rosa. Sensibilidade alta.

Pelos: gosta da sensação de estar liso, mas não faz tanta questão de estar. Se tiver ânimo para gastar mais tempo no banho ou antes de sair com alguém, caso preveja uma foda, provavelmente depilará a virilha. Acontece, no máximo, duas vezes ao mês.

Bolas: Caídas, pesadas e espaçosas; em abundância para qualquer esporte. Acumulam muito, e, se Jonathan passa tempo demais sem transar, na hora de afogar o ganso, afogará no próprio gozo dentro do buraco que acabou de inundar. Gosta de meter devagarinho para sentir-se selando o interior da pessoa, com a pressão das bolas na entrada que alarga.

Porra: orgasmo teatral.

Sêmen branco, um pouco salgado e líquido. Jatos potentes entre pausas dramáticas; a primeira erupção vem abundante, e as demais enfraquecem com vagareza. Enquanto goza, Jonathan continua metendo, forte e erraticamente, errando o buraco em algumas investidas devido à euforia que o envolve, desperdiçando cargas no chão ou entre as coxas de quem está comendo. Fica mais agitado a cada jorrada e não tem previsão de quando o saco parará de contrair e lançar esperma.

★: Billy Hargrove

18 cm — ele adora a circunferência farta que carrega no meio das pernas.

Grossura: muito acima da média.

Billy gosta de foder podendo intercalar a atenção entre seu pau entrando e as expressões que são dadas a ele. Um caralho grosso da raíz a ponta, que provoca quando visto e desafia limites quando inserido, sempre esticando entradinhas até não poder mais e, para o divertimento do loiro, arrancando as mais exageradas e variadas reações dos alegremente arrependidos que caem em seu colo.

Pobrezinho... Nunca encontrou alguém capaz de levá-lo inteiramente na boca. Até mãos grandes o suficiente para circundá-lo são difíceis de achar.

Balança/Curvatura: pesado e reto. Pau que pende um pouco para baixo, mas não a ponto de precisar ser conduzido. É denso demais para pulsar intensamente, mas compensa ao aparentar estar num latejar pausado, constante no mais forte dos ápices.

Cor: comprimento rosa-quente, um bocado mais escuro que o tom predominante no corpo. Ponta vermelha.

Veias: não se percebe o azul sob a pele, mas são volumosas, e pelo menos duas delas se destacam nas laterais, estendidas da base até o corte. Algumas protuberam na virilha.

Glande: antes do orgasmo, libera pouquíssimo pré-sêmen para ajudar no manuseio; nem as células do filho da puta facilitam a vida de quem o cerca. Razoavelmente sensível, sem prepúcio e muito inchada na dureza.

Pelos: nessa piroca não! Billy se depila constantemente; é quase impossível encontrar um pentelho crescido na região. Talvez tope com alguns em fase de crescimento poucos dias após o aparo, mas nunca no auge. Billy não odeia os fiozinhos, mas prefere em infinitas vidas a pele sem eles.

Bolas: sempre cheias e ansiosas para gastar. O tamanho é o mesmo com ou sem tesão, e até no frio a mudança é mínima. Costumam marcar em calças justas; Billy constantemente verifica se elas não estão divididas pela costura do jeans.

Porra: trava o quadril e só sai quando está satisfeito.

Gozo quente, branco e relativamente transparente. Billy libera cargas espessas, recheando sem miséria e acalentando o interior que recém espancou. Permanece um bom tempo fincado até a virilha, latejando, enchendo, e só retorna o caminho ao ser empurrado para fora pela própria essência, sempre ansioso para vê-la vazar borbulhando de uma bordinha inchada e pulsante.

★: Eddie Munson

21 cm — ele genuinamente queria ser menos pauzudo; considera a própria pica uma vadia inconveniente.

Grossura: ligeiramente acima da média.

Duro, costuma escapar pelo cós da calça. Eddie até evita usar shorts fora de casa e, se usa, são bem grandes, para evitar que a cabecinha escape pela barra da perna. Cuecas ajudam, mas Eddie não gosta muito de usá-las. Ele se excita facilmente e raramente se vê meia-bomba, endurecendo sempre até o pico, pulsando tanto na calça que chega a doer.

A excitação é incômoda; deixa o Munson extremamente rijo, jurando poder demolir uma casa inteira usando o pau como marreta. Ele geralmente se perde durante o sexo, pulsando violentamente e metendo brutalmente, querendo gozar mais do que tudo.

Balança/Curvatura: reto e muito leve.

Apesar do tamanho, o pau de Eddie não pesa quase nada e é bastante flexível, apontado para frente não devido à gravidade, mas, sim, por ser a posição natural de seu pênis. Quando livre da cueca, bate no abdômen, ultrapassando a altura do umbigo. Não possui prepúcio.

Cor: imita o tom da pele, ou seja, claro que só. O vermelho da cabecinha escorre da ponta, colorindo parte do comprimento abaixo dela.

Veias: pouquíssimo aparentes.

Glande: pouco responsiva no geral, mas uma grande catalisadora de tudo que é bom durante o clímax.

Pelos: quando o pensamento de apará-los surge, "foda-se" é a resposta mental programada. Eddie tem preguiça de se depilar, costuma desistir antes mesmo de tocar no aparador e fica genuinamente frustrado com a velocidade com que os pelos crescem. Tem queda por ficar lisinho antes de usar o pau; só um rabo de shortinho é capaz de fazê-lo tirar o lacre da Gillette.

Bolas: de pouca presença, um tanto ofuscadas pelo mastro comprido, mas se fazem audíveis na transa ao se chocarem contra o quadril alheio.

Porra: todo clímax é o melhor que já teve.

Viscosa, com pouco sabor e muito grudenta, podendo vir branca ou transparente. Graças aos efeitos potentes acoplados ao tesão, Eddie explode, como se cada fibra do corpo acompanhasse seu orgasmo; o prazer que sente é alucinante. Ele urra, com as bolas convulsionando e o comprimento palpitando, despejando uma carga tão farta e copiosa que não seria surpresa caso uma poça de porra se formasse sobre a cama, sofá, chão, mesa ou bancada.

★: Dmitri Antonov

20 cm — Enzo é amigo da própria peça e, se conseguir brecha para falar sobre o tamanho, ele falará.

Grossura: ligeiramente acima média.

Adora foder vestido. Em um top 10 orgasmos, pelo menos cinco seriam com ele de pica marcada na cueca ou na calça, esfregando o volume entre as pernas de alguém, e nos outros cinco, apenas com o zíper aberto e o pau para fora, atolado num buraquinho apertado.

Dmitri é apaixonado por atingir o clímax sob limites. Sente que alcança o máximo possível do celeste em vida ao afogar uma buceta em esperma usando somente a cabeça do pau, ou ao ser cavalgado de forma tortuosamente lenta por uma bunda farta, quase colapsando enquanto é impedido de ditar o próprio ritmo e de meter até às bolas.

Balança/Curvatura: um pouco pesado e bastante educado, sempre apontando a direção ➜ ➜ ➜

Levemente curvado para o lado e denso o suficiente para que o impacto faça tremer, ele ama chocar e esfregar na pele. É um homem que se entretém batendo e roçando o pau no rosto do parceiro/a. Para ele, foder entre as coxas ou os peitos, e deslizar sobre uma barriguinha quente, é mais divertido do que a penetração em si.

Cor: segue a coloração da pele, mas em tons mais escuros. O mesmo vale para a ponta, com a adição do rubro irritadiço característico da excitação.

Veias: algumas linhas de cor visíveis, mas é, majoritariamente, um pau liso.

Glande: um cogumelo rechonchudo muito sensível, capaz de arrancar dele choramingos manhosos e gemidos roucos. Libera bastante pré-sêmen, e o prepúcio, sob estímulo, não cobre mais que metade da ponta.

Pelos: gosta do meio termo. Muito o desagrada, mas também detesta a sensação da pele pura, sem nada áspero para equilibrar.

Bolas: constantemente inchadas e perfeitamente cabíveis na mão, boas de apertar. Enzo ama ter seu pau mimado; é óbvio que ele não irá dispensar uma carícia nas bolas.

Porra: mais para fora do que para dentro.

Esperma abrasador, um alívio em dias frios. Branco e muito líquido, vindo em esguichos fortes e sequenciais. Goza um pouco rápido, mas o lance dele é atingir vários clímaces e se derramar em diferentes partes do corpo. Qualquer pedaço de pele, dos pés à cabeça, é válido. Leita perto das beiras para ver a porra vazar e cobrir a entrada, empurrando com tudo para dentro em seguida, alojando o esperma fundo nas entranhas. Gosta de capotar abraçado, com os corpos grudentos.

Acho que coloquei coisa demais, não sei até onde ficou interessante 😬, mas e aí, em qual dessas pikas vcs sentariam? Queria ir quicando de uma pra outra aff 😮‍💨

—★💋📂: HOT masterlist

—★🎃📂: HORROR masterlist

[otaku-girl-ao3-fics]

30 days, 30 new fics

AO3: Otaku_girl | 30 days, 30 fics | ATJ character masterlist 

Welcome to my little attempt at June of Doom ‘25 💙

So! So. It has been too long since Kinktober. And Kinktober still feels way too far away. So… we miiiiiight have found a writing challenge month that is. Very appealing. Whump and smut are basically one and the same when you’re bouncing between dark romance and hurt/comfort vibes, right? Right. 

I might not have found this challenge until mid May, so… some of the fics are a little shorter than my usual preferred length, but we do have 30 shiny new fics across various ATJ-related fandoms, all ready to go, primarily for: Kraven the Hunter and Bullet Train, with a little The Fall Guy and 28 Years Later thrown in there.

30 days, 30 fics: June of Doom

Day 1: (Ask me to) Stay | Kraven | Dmitri x Sergei | Mature | Prompt(s): Where am I?, duct tape, slurred speech, darkness Day 2: Understanding | Bullet Train | Lemon & Ladybug | Tangerine x Ladybug pre-slash | Teen | Prompt(s): I'm worried about you, confession, infection Day 3: Just say (I am yours) | Kraven | Dmitri x Reader | Sergei x Reader | Mature | Prompt(s): No one will find out | kidnapping Day 4: (Take it) Easy | Kraven | Dmitri x Sergei | Explicit | Prompts: It's really not that big of a deal, crutches, denial, whimper Day 5: Price tag | Kraven | Dmitri x Reader & Nikolai x Reader | Explicit | Prompts: Let me have a look Day 6: Assistance | The Fall Guy | Tom Ryder x Reader | Teen | Prompt: I won't tell anyone, I swear Day 7: Hold (me) | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Reader | Mature | Call me (Yours) series Prompt: Why didn't you tell me? + Injury Day 8: Friday Night | Kraven | Sergei x Reader x Dmitri | Teen | Prompt: mugged + concussed + How many fingers am I holding up? Day 9: Hunt | Kraven | Sergei x Dmitri | Explicit | Hunted Day 10: Time to say | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Ladybug | Teen | Somebody had to do it + buried alive Day 11: Heart of the matter | Kraven | Gen | Teen!Sergei & Nikolai | Branding Day 12: Timing | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Ladybug | And then there were three part 3 | It's no use; locked door Day 13: Make a wish| Kraven | Dmitri x Sergei | Explicit | Off prompt: ATJ birthday fic~ Day 14: Claim | Kraven | Sergei x Reader | Explicit | knot Day 15: Merchandise | Kraven | Sergei x Reader | Please + human trafficking | Mature Day 16: Chance | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Reader | Are you scared yet? + handcuffs + interrogation Day 17: Terms | Kraven | Nikolai x Reader | Give me another chance + begging + bruises + mercy Day 18: Baby steps | Kraven | Sergei x Reader | Mature | How long have you been like this? Day 19: Sick day | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Ladybug | Teen | Illness + I'm not going anywhere Day 20: Aftermath | Bullet Train | Gen | Reader & Tangerine | That’s going to be one hell of a scar + wound cleaning + salve + examination Day 21: Playing (for keeps) | Kraven | Sergei x Dmitri | Mature | knife | Part two of into the woods Day 22: What dreams are made of | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Ladybug | Teen | Survivor's guilt Day 23: Safe (if your arms) | Kraven | Kraven x Reader | Teen | Don't move Day 24: Last Call | Bullet Train | Tangerine x Reader | M | I don't feel so good + disoriented + fainting + blurred vision

Coming June 25th

Day 25: Look, I just wanna talk | Kraven & Deadpool | Dmitri x Sergei & Deadpool x Spiderman | T | Get in + ransom + basement

Day 26: ??? | Kraven | Dmitri x Sergei | ??? | ??? Day 27: Never (say goodbye) | 28 Years Later | Jamie x Reader | Mature | I'm sorry + miscalculation + embrace Day 28: ??? | Kraven | Gen | ??? | ??? Day 29: ??? | Kraven | Sergei x Reader | ??? | ??? Day 30: ??? | Bullet Train | Gen | ??? | ???

Links

Like my work? Check out my other fics and master lists. Primarily writing for Aaron Taylor Johnson and Mathew Baynton characters; slash (canon) and x Reader (never y/n).

My mains: AO3 - Otaku_girl (the only place to read all of my work) | Tumblr - Otaku-girl-ao3 | Fics only blog - @otaku-girl-ao3-fics

[multific]

My Venus

Dmitri Kravinoff x Reader

Burlesque!AU 

Summary: He was drawn to you.

From the moment his eyes locked with yours.

He knew he had to have you.

You loved to tease men.

It was what you were paid to do.

You had a show, quite popular, they called you Venus Sherry. 

You worked in a bar as a burlesque performer.

Many people, men and women enjoyed your show to the fullest.

At the beginning of each, you would come out of a beautiful shell. Your routine was specifically designed to entertain all. 

But it seemed like you had caught the eye of a young man more than anyone else's in the bar.

Not much younger than you, he always sat at the VIP table with a glass of whiskey in front of him. 

Or could it be that he caught your eye? 

For the last few months, he has been coming to see your shows. He never missed one. 

"Frank? What's the name of the man at the VIP table?" the bouncer looked at you and shrugged his shoulders.

"Some Russian guy. I forgot his name... It was something with the letter D."

Mr D. You decided to call him.

He never gave you the vibes of other guests. They came to enjoy the show, some turned out to be full creeps but not him. He was mesmerized.

His eyes were filled with passion and admiration.

You liked that.

It wasn't only lust.

It was something new.

Something different.

Something exciting.

And it got more and more exciting as the days passed.

Each show you pretended there was no one else, only him and you.

You danced for him. You teased him.

And you smiled at him. 

You never smiled like that at anyone else.

"Frank?" you asked as your door opened.

"Mr D wants to see you." Frank said as you got up from your chair.

You were fully dressed, ready for your show but you had better things to do now.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached his desk, he quickly stood up to greet you.

He was short. 

Not like that mattered, but he was handsome, which did matter.

"Ms Venus Sherry, my name is Dmitri Kravinoff. It is a pleasure to meet you, I have been a huge fan of your... work." You handed your hand to him to shake but he kissed the back of it instead. "Please, take a seat."

And you did.

"So, Dmitri, nice to put a name to the face I have been seeing so often."

"May I know the real name of My Venus?"

You smiled at his request but you ended up telling him your name.

There was just something about him.

You needed to know more.

---

Dmitri Kravinoff is possibly the man of your dreams and desires.

He sent you flowers after all of your shows.

Red roses.

To show his love for you.

And you danced for him. 

You feared he only liked you because of Venus. You feared he believed in your illusion too much.

But he didn't.

His eyes said it all.

His eyes looked beyond the costumes and make up.

And so, it didn't take you long to quit your career as Venus Sherry. 

"I will take care of you. I promise." he whispered and he didn't lie. 

Dimitri asked you to move in with him and quit your job. You could see the jealousy in his eyes. 

He only wanted you for him.

"Others get Venus, but you have me as a woman, as Y/N." you told him.

You weren't sure if it was good to fall in love so quickly. But it was so easy to love him.

Not his name, not his business and not his money. But him, Dmitri.

You could tell he did everything to win you over with his money but in the end, it was he who captured your heart. 

You stood out on his balcony, looking over London with a cup of tea in your hands. It was morning, people were going to work as you watched them.

The arms that wrapped around you made you jump and almost spill your tea. 

"You scared me."

"What are you doing up so early?" he whispered into your neck.

"Couldn't sleep." 

"Didn't I tire you out enough?" you smiled at him as he turned you to face him.

"You did. I just have too many thoughts."

"You and your clever mind, My Love. I told you to let them all go."

"I know. And I will." his hand was placed on your cheek before it moved to your temple, he closed his fist as if collecting your thoughts and threw them away. 

"I love you so much." he said to you with a beautiful smile.

"I love you too Dimi."

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 ANY OF MY WORKS/

[littleoddwriter]

imagine Dmitri putting all the effort in the world into learning to imitate your favourite singer's voice, and then learning to play a specific song from their discography on the piano and sing it, so as to let you know and feel just how much he means it when he says that he loves you. maybe he even uses that as a strategy to first confess his love to you, performing it at the club, simply announcing the next song to be for you, and it doesn't take you long to realise, and---

my heart is bursting, my goodness, I need this so badly. <3

[medievalharlot]

⋆˙⟡ Masterlist

Smut is indicated with a *

Introduction - rules

✧ Fred Hechinger Character's

Red Lace - Dmitri Kravinoff x f!reader : Your soon-to-be husband gets drunk off eating you out * High Endeavours - Daniel Markowitz X f!reader : The two of you get high and Danny ends up venting to you while you ride him * A Gift For The Princess - Geta X princess f!reader X Carcalla : The empire comes to your aid and you are reunited with your childhood friends, they end up having a gift you cannot turn down (request) We'll Never Have Sex - Jason Hochberg x reader (Blurb) Will You Deny Them, My Lady? - Geta x f!reader x Caracalla : Stuck on Palantine Hill, both Geta and Caracalla try to get a piece of you. Geta tries to make the choice easier for you as you and Caracalla bond. Make Up, Make Out - Enemies to lovers, Jason Hochberg x f!reader : After moving you got asked to be counselor at Pineway, unfornately you weren't really what Jason was expecting to stumble upon in the head counselor bunk..

Tea Stains - Daniel Markowitz x f!reader: Everything seems to be going wrong today, until you bump into a blue eyed boy with blonde hair

✧ Joseph Quinn Character's

An Emperors Desire - Geta x f!reader : You read Geta’s palm and he realises he has to have you (request) A Gift For The Princess - Geta X princess f!reader X Carcalla : The empire comes to your aid and you are reunited with your childhood friends, they end up having a gift you cannot turn down (Request)

Tag, You're It - Michael x f!reader : Your annoying roommate turns out to not be as annoying as you expected once you warm up to him, a game of tag leaving the two of you sweaty and panting. * Will You Deny Them, My Lady? - Geta x f!reader x Caracalla : Stuck on Palantine Hill, both Geta and Caracalla try to get a piece of you. Geta tries to make the choice easier for you as you and Caracalla bond.

✧ Jujutsu Kaisen

Our last night - Geto Suguru x f!reader * : You couldn’t believe what Gojo told you on the phone until Geto showed up at your door. When he confirmed the truth, all you could think about was that this would be your last night together

[quimera-cami]

Hello i am obsessed with your art 🌻💛🌻💛

I saw ur requests are open for cod spetsnaz art! would love to see my babyboy dmitry bale; suggesting a few options to pick one from (also feel free to do none if you have too much on your plate too)

-dmitry x reader grocery shopping

-dmitry addicted to computer games while he recovers from his spinal injury (bg here: https://callofduty.fandom.com/wiki/Dmitry_Bale)

-dmitry learning maxim has four kids lol

-dmitry playing with maxim’s kids

-these “bachelor party” and “ruined my vacation” dialogues between dmitry/maxim - https://youtu.be/_x-BDqxbmYU?si=FKMCvfXvHYz9luEX

-dmitry confessing to reader

-dmitry trying to rizz up reader/drop shitty pickup lines

-dmitry cooking

-dmitry anything tbh you could probably draw him taking a dump and id be like 🥹🥹🥹🥹 my babyboy lol i love him so much

References: https://youtu.be/oYnPpeUraZY?si=EF05Yc8KadR4Ui2S

Hi! I love all of your ideas, I want to do them all. I definitive do them in a future.

I just love this man sm 😭

Anyways, hope you like this one!

[pascaloverx]

RAGE

sneak peek

Author's note: if you like this little sample of the fanfic idea, kraven x reader. Interact with the story, so I can see if I continue or not.

Summary: You are secretly Dmitri Smerdyakov's bodyguard, though over time, you've developed a friendship with him. However, you share a complicated past with his brother, Sergei Kravinoff. Now that Sergei is back in town, who knows where this will lead you?

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

Dmitri is late, which is unusual for him. You, who have been not only his close friend for years but also his almost-secret protector, are on the verge of losing your mind trying to find him. He is not in his dressing room, where he usually gets ready. Growing more anxious by the second, you head to his apartment. He is not answering his phone, which only heightens your nerves.

A few years ago, Nikolai Kravinoff personally sought you out to ensure his son's safety. Before that, you had worked as a security officer in dangerous places that paid extremely well—one of them being an underground laboratory. There, they conducted experiments involving snakes, specifically black mambas, using human test subjects. You were one of them. Those were desperate times when you would take almost any job for money. Nikolai recruited you after you saved Dmitri from a thief during one of his performances. But Dmitri has no idea that you are his bodyguard. To him, you are a friend, a confidante, and his assistant.

When you finally reach Dmitri's apartment, your stomach tightens at the sight of blood trails on the floor. Without hesitation, you raise your weapon and shoot at the door handle—there is no time to knock. Kicking the door open, you step inside, weapon raised.

"Where I come from, breaking and entering is considered a crime," Sergei says, aiming a crossbow at you. That damned birthday gift he gave Dmitri some time ago. His eyes scan you from head to toe as you keep your gun trained on him.

"I could say the same. What are you doing here, Sergei?" you ask harshly, a flicker of anger in your gaze.

"Missed you, kitty," he says with a smirk. You have always hated when he calls you that, but it's the price you pay for sleeping with him once. One night. One mistake.

"Don't call me that unless you want to lose your claws," you reply, casting a glance around the apartment, deliberately ignoring the crossbow still aimed at you. At some point, Sergei lowers the weapon and steps closer, his scent filling your senses. Sweat mixed with blood.

"You're injured?" you ask while continuing your search, your eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any sign of Dmitri.

"What exactly are we looking for?" he murmurs near your ear, his voice low, almost teasing, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Your brother, to be precise," you snap, turning to face him so he can see just how pissed you are at his stupidity. His expression remains unreadable, but there's a glint of amusement in his eyes, as if he enjoys pushing your buttons.

"He went out—to the pharmacy. Stocking up on supplies to patch me up," Sergei says casually, as if the sight of blood on the floor is nothing to be concerned about.

You exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair before tucking your weapon into the small compartment at your waistband. "And you let him go alone to get bandages for you? Brilliant. Truly, the best damn brother in the world," you say sarcastically while inspecting his injuries. Without hesitation, you start pulling at his clothes—not that it’s much of a challenge, considering he barely wears any to begin with.

Sergei watches you, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Trying to get your hands on me? If you want to touch me that badly, you’ll have to beg for it," he teases, a smug grin on his lips. You ignore him, finishing your assessment. He looks like he got hit by a damn truck.

"Would you give me the pleasure of having you in my bed like the good little feline you are?" you murmur, dragging your fingers over his chest, scratching lightly across his bruises. He lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

"You have no idea what I’d let you do to me," Sergei murmurs, stepping closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"I feel the need to make my presence known," Dmitri’s voice suddenly cuts through the tension, startling you both. Instinctively, you turn toward the doorway, where he stands watching with an unimpressed expression. "Because it seems like you two are about to start ripping each other’s clothes off."

"Dmitri!" you exclaim, rushing toward him. "You should have warned me about your brother. Your show starts in less than an hour." You gently touch his face, your concern evident.

He holds up two bags filled with bandages and medicine for Sergei. "He showed up looking like a stray cat that fell off a moving truck, and I had to help him. That’s what brothers do. We don’t abandon each other," Dmitri murmurs, a trace of melancholy in his voice. Sergei had left him behind with their authoritarian father years ago, making their relationship… complicated.

"I appreciate your help, brother, but if Lady Y/N doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave without protest," Sergei says smoothly as he approaches, his eyes soft as he looks at Dmitri. Manipulative down to his very last breath.

"My dear brother, there is no show more important to me than you. And my beloved friend here surely agrees," Dmitri responds warmly, his words making Sergei’s smirk widen in victory.

You exhale, trying to be reasonable. "Fine. Your driver should be here any minute. Perform as always, and remember, an important journalist is coming to see you tonight. I’ll take care of Sergei."

"I knew you’d save me in the end," Dmitri says with a knowing smile, handing you the bags before pressing a kiss to your cheek. He embraces Sergei briefly before heading out, leaving you alone with his ever-troublesome brother.

"Looks like it’s just you and me now, little snake," Sergei murmurs near your ear, his hands trailing lightly down your back in a slow caress.

"If that hand moves any lower, you’ll lose it," you warn, shoving him onto the couch. Not only were you Dmitri's bodyguard—now you were Sergei's damn nurse too.