#goncharov x reader

[suodelic]

Hey, Mr. Bartender! Hope you're having a good day, Could I have a shot of Ivan Goncharov? there isn't a server like you around. ✧

FLAVOR PROFILE—restraints + Ivan Goncharov

“Oh, sweet thing. You look delicious, you know that?”

Ivan smiles down at you in a way entirely lacking sympathy; it’s difficult to dredge up any when your ass is wiggling in the heavy air and there’s pretty silk knots running up and down the columns of your arms, secure behind your back. You can hardly lift your cheek from the mattress after your silvery-haired lover lets your chin go, softly, sweetly, as if it doesn't send you face down and moaning—oh, yeah—against the panties he’d shoved between your teeth. Your panties, soaked with arousal from when he’d manhandled your wrists behind you and told you to be good for him.

“Mmh—” you whimper out when you feel his knees shift the bed, his hands sliding over the curve of your ass so his thumbs can part your holes for him; you're dripping.

He’s pulling his locks back into a loose ponytail—a detail you don’t, wouldn’t miss over your shoulder—and it makes you throb.

“Uh-huh,” Ivan purrs, prodding you with his fingers before he leans down to kiss your weeping cunt. “Stay still for me, my love.”

[crisedoctobre]

You wake up and, like every morning, put your hair up in a messy bun. You go down the stairs to get breakfast and just as you step foot in the kitchen, your mother declares "[Y/N], to pay off my debt to the mafia, i sold you to Goncharov."

[goncharovimagines]

Imagine…

It seems like a totally ordinary morning when you wake, with nothing to suggest that your life is about to be upended. You get up slowly, savouring the warmth of your bed, and wander around your room brushing your (long, brown) hair. You pick out an outfit for the day - a loose fitting Star Wars tee, skinny jeans and red converse - and tie your hair up in your usual ponytail. After lightly applying some mascara and eyeliner (you’ve never been one of those girls to cake their whole face in makeup) you make your way downstairs to have breakfast.

The vibe is…weird, in the kitchen. Your mom seems kind of uptight, watching you out of the corner of her eye like you are a rare bird who might take flight at any moment. You do your best to ignore it - it’s such a sunny morning and you just want to focus on getting ready for school - but when you sit at the table with your cereal and orange juice, she comes to join you.

“What’s wrong, mom?” you ask, through a mouthful of cornflakes. “And don’t say nothing, because clearly something is.”

Your mom hesitates. “You’re right, Y/N. There’s something going on. But it’s not bad, it’s just…different.”

“Huh.” You wait for her to go on.

“Well, you know your father and I have been struggling recently,” she continues, now avoiding your gaze. “Everything costs so much, and we’re trying to do our best by your little sisters.”

You nod, slowly. This isn’t news. As the eldest sibling, you’ve always been allowed to know more of what’s happening with your family than your younger siblings.

“And then this man, well, he came to us with an offer.” A tear slips her cheek, splashing into her morning coffee.

Startled, you reach out to take her hand across the table. “Mom? What’s going on?”

Right on cue, there is a knock at the door.

“He’ll take good care of you,” your mom says quickly, taking her hand back so that she can go to open the door. “He promised. And we’ll still be able to see you at some weekends. It’s…it’s for the best, sweetie.”

She opens the door and a strange man walks in. He’s strange-looking, all dark shadows and sharp angles, and even though he’s many years your senior you can’t help thinking that he’s maybe the hottest person you’ve seen in your life.

“This is Goncharov,” your mom says, clearly trying to hold herself together. “Your new owner.”

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

New sentence bc I like this one better: "fine, keep acting like you hate me" Goncharov x reader please ❤️ I hope you had a good rewatch!

Ivan Goncharov x Female!Reader, Reader is a smoker (it's Scorsese in the 70s, what do you want from me), Forbidden Love, Angst

Warning: None

A/N: Okay, fresh off the rewatch and I've got thoughts. Let's fucking go! (Also this turned into a thing)

Word Count: 676

You thought you were free. You thought Italy meant a new life, away from the turmoil and freezing unforgiving nature of your home country. Here everything was supposed to be warm rolling hills and a fresh start. And yet here you were stuck in a city just as dirty, sequestered in a kitchen just as small, while a man you prayed your left behind ate in the other room.

You had long since given up on eating, the clock behind you ticking down the seconds until you could clear the plates and once again have some reign over your home. Never had you ever wished your brother would just get married already. He could conduct his business under his own roof rather than lay claim to yours. Anything to spare you the humiliation.

The soft click of steps on tile interrupted your thoughts. It was only then you realized just how long you had been staring at the same patch of wall. Your cigarette had almost burned to the nub.

"Are you done?" you asked, not bothering to turn your head.

"Not for a while."

Your eyes widened at the sound of that aching familiar voice. Whipping around you eyes confirmed what your ears told you. Ivan Goncharov was standing in your kitchen.

You swallowed, putting out your cigarette as you slowly rose to your feet.

"Is there a request for seconds? I made plenty," you said, keeping your voice and expression calm.

"No."

God why did he have to look at you like that? It had been ten years. You have changed. You had changed, but one look and you were that same girl melting under the gaze of a handsome boy.

No, you would not fall for this. He wasn't that same boy. You were not that same girl. You were a grown woman and a strange, dangerous man was standing between you and the only way out.

"Then unless you wish me to clear the table, I cannot see why you would be in here."

He took a step forward.

Your instinct was to step back, but you held firm. He held no power over you here. This place was yours. Not his. Not your brothers, no matter how much he pretended it was. You had done your running and now you were going to stay planted.

His eyes trailed over your features searching for something you could only guess at. It was only when you could smell the gentle remains of his cologne did you realize just how close he was.

"I wanted to see you," he said, simply.

You raised your chin in defiance. "And now you have. So your business is done."

His lips pressed into a line, but he remained silent.

Before you could even react, he took a tight hold of your hand forcing your even closer so you were practically chest to chest.

"You're not married," he said, taking special care to touch the bare flesh of your ring finger.

Your expression turn to stone even as your breath threatened to tremble. "And you are."

That, finally, made him look away. He still held your hand, but his grip wasn't as tight. It was touch for the sake of it, one you both longed for.

He leaned in, his nose just brushing against your own. You could feel his breath on your lips. It would be so easy.

"Do you hate me?" he asked.

"Yes."

It was a lie and you both knew it.

He nodded, his eyes focusing all their attention on your lips. "Does pretending make it easier for you?"

"Does hoping make it easier for you?"

He blinked before slowly pulling back, releasing your hand as he went.

"Keep acting like you hate me," he said. "Maybe one of these days we'll both believe it."

He left, leaving you alone once again, cold and in silence. You pulled out a cigarette, focusing on the comforting burn and the subtle ticking of the clock.

One day perhaps you would hate him. You could only hope.

[blackeasteagle]

Goncharov this... Goncharov that.... but where are the fanfics? goncharov x reader???? Andrey x reader??? WHERE ARE THEY???

[followingthefanfiction]

Goncharov (1973) x reader

final moments

Andrey: He doesn’t get any time to just enjoy your love. Honestly with each passing day he believes in love a little less. But while hiding from the mob in that dark theater, he looks at you and for the first time since he can’t remember when, he feels love again. He reaches for your hand while crouching behind the empty seat. The door bursts open. At least, he thinks, he is loved in this last moment. He shoves you out the back door. The gun fires.

Goncharov: (Listen, I know the whole point was he died alone, but romance is more important.) That alley. The blood. He slouched down, fading fast. You crouched down to him. You put your hand on his cheek. You both knew. “Hey, get out of here, they aren’t looking for you yet, you can get out.”

“I won’t leave you alone.”

“Then uh. I’ll meet you at that restaurant.. with the lighting you like. Thursday. 7:00? You just go and I’ll meet you there. ”

You nodded. Knowing. You left. As you ran, you hear gunshots.

Sophia: remember that drive she took with Katya? Yeah :)

You don’t quite understand why she dragged you out of bed telling you to pack a bag. She hid that life from you for ages. You were driving and it was finally sunrise. She looked over at you, wondering how she got something so good in her life. She’s in too deep now and she knows it. You were trying to nap, she did wake up at 4 in the morning after all. You opened your eyes when you heard the sirens. She turned up the music, using the back of her hand to caress your face. She sped up.

Katya: She knew exactly what was coming for her. Her connections to Goncharov would be the death of her. She knew that. Instead of running like the others, she stood behind. At her little farm house. She let you sleep in, made you breakfast in bed. It was around 11:00. She felt you hug her from behind. You asked who’s car was coming down the driveway. “It’s nothing darling. Hold me a little longer.” Two gunshots were heard that morning, but not by the two of you.

[daincrediblegg]

Hey does anyone take Goncharov x reader requests or do I have to shoulder that burden myself?

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Fuck it, Goncharov (1973) Reader Insert Requests Open

Somebody has gotta do it, might as well be me.

Send me a sentence prompt + a character.

(I cannot emphasis how much a deters me as a writer to have somebody send me an entire synopsis of what they want.)