— By nature, Sergei’s a reclusive man so for him to have allowed you into his own personal space - willingly - is a pretty big accomplishment, I must say
— He doesn’t miss a day where he’s not reminding you of how special you are to him, shown in the small trinkets he picks up on his travels. Maybe a pretty peacock feather that he pins to your hair, because he says: Princess, it’s your bright colours that guide me back to you
— Due to his special connection with animals, you find yourself face to face with the likes of wolves, tigers, lions. All for them to roll over at your feet, because they recognise Sergei as their protector, which thus makes you the number one thing they respect because you’re Daddy’s Favourite™
— Sergei is the king of regulation, so whenever you’re in emotional distress or have experienced something bad, it’s as if he can read your mind because he soothes you in exactly the right way. Maybe because he’s such an assertive person, but the way he takes control reminds you that you’re not suffering alone because he is the most willing volunteer to take care of you
— Like seriously, he listens with such patience every time he listens to your troubles, making it clear you’re the only person in the world that matters in that moment. Best believe that when he comes home to you, he’s expecting you to tell him about your day. He will simply pin you down until you speak if you’re refusing, he doesn’t waste no time
— He likes to sneak up on you when you’re in the house alone - search up the definition of ‘silent but deadly’ and you’ll see a smiley photo of him next to it - because he finds it exhilarating feeding off of your fear. He knows you feel the same way, a bit like a dance that you both find yourself entangled in
— So yes, heavy on the prey kink👀
— While we’re here, he’s also massively into brat taming. He’s lost count of the amount of times you guys have gotten into petty arguments just so you can get a rise out of him because you love the way his eyes flash when he’s heated and in control
— Very possessive over you, but not in an obnoxious way full of insecure bravado. He shows it in small notions, such as a hand planted firmly to your thigh when sitting down next to you. Intimidating enough for people to recognise who you belong to, but still friendly enough that he has no qualms about you being alone with men. He trusts you with no shred of doubt, he just can’t resist his territorial nature. If people have an issue with the love bites on your neck, then let’s say it’s a good job you have to wear clothes…
— He loves to whisper sweet nothings in Russian to you. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying (you really need to get round to learning his mother tongue) but you can feel the emotion behind it, when he lowers his register so his whispers are enveloped in sweet intensity.
— Leading on from that, he reads you old Russian literature in his spare time. Again, it doesn’t matter that you don’t know what he’s saying because honestly you’d watch paint dry if it meant that he was the canvas
— One thing he finds really fucking cute about you, is your tendency to braid his curls without realising. They’re just so tuggable, you find yourself doing it when you’re distracted. And then, it inevitably leads to Sergei having his guard down and allowing him to relax, which sends chills through you because you have the power to make him feel like that
— and lastly, Sergei is the biggest cuddler on the planet. You guys are NOT going to bed until he’s got every limb wrapped around your own. Good luck trying to go to the toilet in the middle of the night, cuz ol boy is nawwwt letting you go hehehe
Would you be able to a Sergei, where he has a child with someone from his past. He doesn’t know about the child for three years but once somehow finds out he tracks them down to find them and meet his kid (honestly could be a boy or a girl)
blissfully unaware - sergei kravinoff x fem!reader
synopsis: for the last three years, you've been raising your daughter, emilia, by yourself. but when her father finds out, he wants to be a part of your lives again.
word count: 2.2k
a/n: thanks for the request, i had fun writing this! it wasn't specified, but i wrote this as an x reader, hope that's alright! disclaimer, i do not know what three year olds are like, so i apologise if anything is inaccurate.
It was a chance meeting. You and Sergei were like two passing ships. Even though things happened fast, you thought you had found the one. You were sure he felt the same. It was months of pure bliss before one day when you woke up alone.
The world shifted when you first saw those two lines. You felt lost for the first few weeks. You didn't know what to do or how to do it. But your friends and family supported you, and eventually, you decided it was for the best. You knew who Sergei was and what he did for a living. You didn't want your child to be a part of that.
When you held Emilia's little body in your arms for the first time, you fell in love with her instantly. After the tears and sleepless nights were over, life with your daughter was perfect. She was a sweet and thoughtful child. She rarely fussed over anything and had so much love in her heart.
It was hard not to think about Sergei at first. Emilia was a perfect combination of the two of you. Half of him and half of you. But as time passed, you forced him out of your mind and focused on your little girl. And in the blink of an eye, Emilia was already three years old.
That brings you to today, a Friday morning in the summer. It's been a long week, and you're looking forward to spending the weekend with your daughter, having promised to take Emilia to the beach. But first, you had to get her to preschool and get yourself to work.
You poke your head into Emilia's bedroom. She sleeps soundly, hugging a bunny plushie to her chest. You step over the toys scattered on the floor, stopping at her bed.
"Hey, baby," you kneel beside her, brushing the hair away from her face. "It's time to wake up."
Emilia scrunches her face in response. She hugs her bunny tighter and mumbles, "Not yet, mama."
"Yes, now," you say. "You've got a whole day ahead of you, Emmy."
Emilia let out a tiny whine, not giving up her sleep just yet, and you hold back a chuckle. Resorting to another method of waking her, you lean in and begin peppering kisses on her cheek.
She starts giggling immediately, trying to hide her face in her pillow. "Stop, that tickles!"
"It does, huh? What about now?" You add your hands into the mix, tickling her body with your fingers.
She squirms, giggling even more. "Mama, stop!"
You laugh as you withdraw your hands. Emilia looks up at you with bright eyes, hiding her smile behind her bunny.
You give her one last kiss on the nose. "Come on, girly. Let's go have some breakfast, yeah?"
Emilia nods, sitting up and holding her arms up to you. You pick her up, and she hugs your neck as you carry her to the dining table.
The morning goes by peacefully. Soon enough, the two of you are off for the day. You drop Emilia off at preschool. She gives you a kiss and says goodbye in a sweet little voice that always melts your heart.
It's a productive day for both of you. And that evening, you and Emilia go to the supermarket to pick up a few groceries. She trails beside you cheerfully since you agreed to buy her a box of fruit snacks.
You're currently looking at vegetables, Emilia's least favourite section. Your broccoli perusing is interrupted when a familiar voice calls your name. You turn and see a young man standing before you. He's dressed nicely. It takes a moment to place a name on the face.
You do a double take. "Dmitri?"
He grins, "Oh my god, it really is you. It's been, what? Four years?"
You pause for a moment. You were close to Dmitri for some time, having visited the restaurant many times. But you stopped talking to him when Sergei left.
You smile back, though yours is somewhat strained. "Wow, yeah. Just about, I think. What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see a show at the theatre nearby," he explains. "What about you?"
"I live here now," you tell him.
"Oh, that's great," he replies. "It's a nice area here, I-"
He trails off when he notices the little person beside you. A look passes Dmitri's face. It worries you, but he quickly replaces it with another smile.
"Who's this?" he asks.
You look down. Emilia's holding onto your leg, hiding slightly behind it. You place a hand on her head. "This is Emilia."
"Hi, Emilia," he greets her before looking back up at you. "Is she yours?"
"She is," you say cautiously.
"That's wonderful," he responds. "She looks like you."
"Thank you," you reply.
A somewhat awkward silence settles. Dmitri looks down at his watch.
"Well, I need to head off if I want to make it on time," he states. "It was good seeing you."
"Yeah, you too, Dmitri. See you around," you say.
He nods, looking down at Emilia. "Bye, Emilia."
Emilia waves him goodbye. She looks up at you curiously after he walks away and asks, "Who is that, mama?"
"Just an old friend, Emmy," you say.
"He has funny clothes," she replies.
"You're right, bub," you let out a chuckle, ruffling her hair. "Come on, just a few more things, and then we can go home."
Emilia takes your hand without a second thought. With one last glance towards Dmitri, you tell yourself not to worry and refocus on your shopping.
A week passes, and you start to forget about your interaction with Dmitri. It's a Sunday, and you're lounging at home. You have some time to yourself since Emilia is having a playdate with her friend.
But your peace is interrupted when someone knocks at your front door. When you go to answer, your heart drops. None other than Sergei Kravinoff is at your door, eyes wide and noticeably flustered.
"H-hey…" he stammers.
You stare at him, shocked. The man who has been a ghost for the past four years suddenly stands before you. And he looks a mess.
"Sergei," you regard him. "What are you doing here?"
He swallows visibly. You notice his eyes dart behind you, looking inside your home before settling back on you.
"Is she here?" he asks.
You feel your heart drop even more. He knows.
"No, she's over at a friend's place," you tell him.
"Oh," is all he says, his face an unreadable mix of emotions.
You shift uncomfortably, unable to meet his gaze. "How did you find out?"
"Dima told me he saw you," he explains. "The other day at the store."
You nod, unsurprised. A part of you anticipated something like this happening. You don't bother asking how he found out where you lived. You already know the answer.
You open the door for him. "You should come in."
Sergei enters, grateful but wary. He looks around at the living room. The place is covered with evidence of Emilia.
"She's mine, isn't she?" he asks.
"Yeah, she's yours," you reply.
He turns to face you. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"How was I supposed to, Sergei?" you retaliate. "You disappeared on me."
Sergei lets out a huff, knowing you're right. But still, he argues, "You could've reached out to Dima. Or done anything. You didn't even try."
"Would it have made a difference?" you ask. "Would you really have dropped whatever you've been doing for this?"
He hesitates. He wants to say yes but doesn't know if he can. Instead, he just looks around the room again.
You've never seen him look so defeated. A part of you feels guilty. But the other part feels resentful. Four years and not a single word. Now, he shows up out of the blue, demanding answers.
"Look," you begin. "I don't know what you've been doing all this time, but I've been living a good life with Emilia. And I don't plan on that changing."
Sergei shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't- I'm not here to cause you trouble, I just… I wish you told me."
The guiltier part of you starts to take over. "I'm sorry, Sergei."
"No, don't apologise," he says. "This is my fault."
You fall silent, thinking of nothing else to say. You can tell Sergei's mind is going a million miles an hour, so you give him some time to process things.
He speaks up after a few moments. "Do you think I could meet her? Please?"
You hesitate to answer. The thought of letting Sergei back into your life scares you. But you decide to give him a chance. He deserves to meet his daughter at least once.
"We'll both be home next Saturday," you tell him. "She usually naps around noon, so you could come over at two."
"Two o'clock. Alright, I'll be here," he says.
Sergei gives you his number and leaves shortly after, not wanting to bother you any longer. It feels strange to suddenly have a way to directly contact him. But you have a week until he comes over again, so you bide your time until then.
You're nervous all morning the next week, but Emilia is blissfully unaware. She wakes from her nap and is already back to her toys, playing doctor with her plushies. You watch her from the kitchen, drumming your fingers on the counter.
Sergei arrives at two on the dot. You steel yourself before answering the door. He stands there looking just as anxious but greets you with a smile.
"Hey," he holds out a bouquet of flowers. "These are for you."
You accept the gift, noticing he still remembers your favourite. "Thank you, Sergei. Come in."
Sergei follows you inside. You place the flowers down and lead him to where Emilia is playing. He needs a moment to take her in. She has a head of wavy hair and chubby cheeks. He can see himself in her. He sees you, too. And just like you three years ago, he falls in love instantly.
You take a seat on the floor beside her, getting her attention. "Hey, Emmy. There's someone who would like to meet you."
You look towards Sergei, and Emilia follows your gaze.
Sergei kneels in front of her, holding out his hand. "Hi there, Emilia. I'm Sergei."
Emilia looks back at you, and you give her a reassuring nod. She timidly reaches out to shake his hand but doesn't say anything. Her hand is comically small in his. She retracts her arm, and you notice her shuffle closer to you.
Sergei smiles, gesturing to her toys. "These are cool. Are you a doctor?"
Emilia seems to light up a bit at his question and nods.
"You know, Em," you speak up. "Sergei told me he was feeling a bit sick. Do you want to give him a check-up?"
Emilia nods again, seeming a bit more enthusiastic now. She's always happy to show off her toys and medical skills. It takes a few minutes, but Emilia starts warming up to Sergei. You step away to let them play and can't help but smile as you watch them.
Sergei commits to the part, even pretending to be unconscious on the floor. Emilia pokes him with her equipment in an attempt to revive him. She's all giggles and smiles by the end of the afternoon. After dragging you over to also get a check-up, Emilia introduces Sergei to her plushies, and he offers his highest praise for each of them.
Soon enough, the afternoon is over. You'll need to start getting Emilia fed, bathed and into bed. But, of course, she complains when you say it's for Sergei to go. She pleads for him to stay for dinner. Sergei, however, doesn't want to overstay his welcome, so he makes an excuse for himself. Emilia relents and gives him a hug goodbye.
You walk Sergei to the door. Stepping outside, you're greeted by the cool evening breeze. He faces you, a tentative look on his face.
"Thanks for coming," you speak up first.
"Thanks for having me," he says. "I'd like to do this again."
"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure Emilia would like that too."
Sergei smiles, and a moment of silence passes. He takes this time to take you in. Really take you in. You've changed over the years. But you aren't even a bit less beautiful.
He takes this opportunity to continue. "And what about her mother? Think she and I could spend some time together as well?"
You crack a smile. "I don't get much free time these days, Sergei. But let's go with a maybe."
"Maybe," he nods. "I can work with maybe."
Silence falls between the two of you again. Sergei is reluctant to leave but knows he can't linger. He reaches for your hand, lifting it up to kiss the back of it.
"Thank you," he says. "I'll see you soon?"
"See you soon, Sergei," you reply.
Sergei offers one last smile and lets your hand slip from his. He begins walking away and looks back to see Emilia waving at him through the window. Sergei waves back, filled with a new resolve. He's not going to screw up this time.
"I'll have to try even harder next time then. Can't have you downgrading me to just 'good' after all.”
Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 4.6k
Summary: You’re Sergei’s closest (and only) friend, one night things become more than just friendly.
a/n: as always send any request you have my way! I’ll get to them asap
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the foliage above, you felt an eerie presence nearby. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught a flicker of movement among the trees. It was Sergei, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
You'd found him in this very forest when he had first left home, and now, years later, he remained a silent guardian.
Sergei stood amidst the shadows of the forest, his form blending seamlessly with the surrounding foliage. His gaze lingered on you, studying your every detail. The familiar scent of the forest and your presence filled his senses, stirring a mix of nostalgia and concern within him.
"You've been here a while," he observed, his voice a low rumble. "Looking for something?"
"Just watching," you murmur, standing as he approaches your side. you brush your hands over your jeans, grinning as you look up at him.
Sergei, towering above you, stands close enough that you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes study your every movement, taking in the way your hands brush over your jeans. A faint smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth.
"Watching, eh?" he remarks, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate through the forest around you. "Find anything interesting?"
"Not particularly, well at least not before you showed up," you observe his strong features in the sunlight, hands aching to touch him.
Sergei's smirk widens as he notices the way your eyes roam over his features, taking in the play of sunlight on his chiseled face. He can feel the subtle tension rising between you, a familiar pull that has always been there.
"Is that right?" he responds in a low, amused tone. "So, I'm more interesting than the scenery then?"
"But of course," you glance around, "the forest doesn't exactly talk back, does it?"
Sergei's lips quirk into a crooked smile as he considers your retort. His eyes follow the movement of your gaze, taking in the peaceful surroundings.
"True, the forest is a silent spectator." he muses, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "But I happen to be a little more engaging than a few trees and squirrels."
Then, his tone shifts slightly, a touch more commanding yet laced with an underlying softness. "You should join me for dinner. It's late, and I doubt you've eaten anything substantial."
"What's on the menu?" you grin, linking your arm with his as he begins to guide you to his home.
As you link your arm with his, Sergei lets out a chuckle at your question. It was never a struggle to get you to come along when food was involved.
"Nothing fancy, just a simple meal," he replies, his hand instinctively resting on top of yours as he guides you through the trail he and his family had made years before. "Some stew from a rabbit I caught earlier, fresh bread, and maybe a few berries if I can find any."
"Sounds perfect, Sergei." you lean your head against his shoulder, enjoying the heat that's radiating off of him.
As your head rests on his shoulder, Sergei glances down at you, a warm smile playing on his lips. The familiarity of your touch and the way you lean into him stirs emotions within him. He'd always been protective of you, seeing you as someone he needed to keep safe.
He continues to guide you along the path, the sound of nocturnal creatures filling the night air. "You're quiet tonight," he notes, his voice gentle. "Everything alright?"
Your eyes widen as he catches on to your distracted mind, thoughts filled with the idea of being in his home and surrounded by his scent rather than making conversations. "Of course..." you murmur, "Just a little.. preoccupied." you grin up at him
Sergei narrows his eyes slightly, a mix of concern and curiosity in his gaze. Your vague answer and the hint of a grin on your face pique his interest, making him even more curious.
"Preoccupied, hm?" he muses, a hint of humor in his voice. "With what exactly?" His arm tightens its hold on you, pulling you closer as if to physically keep you from drifting away in thought.
"That's a secret," you retort, eyes glued on the building ahead of the both of you, Sergei finally guiding you inside his home.
Sergei's smirk only widens at your response, your words fueling the curiosity further. He watches the way your eyes dart towards his home, knowing exactly what you're thinking. With a slight chuckle, he leads you inside.
The interior is cozy and warm, lit by a few oil lamps that cast a soft, flickering glow over the room. The scent of woodsmoke and herbs fills the air. Sergei closes the door behind you, locking it securely.
"A secret, huh?" he muses, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now you've got me genuinely intrigued."
You take a seat on the couch, relaxing into the plush fabric. "I'll tell you after dinner, I'm too hungry to wait." you pull a blanket over your body, instantly making yourself at home in the familiar environment.
Sergei watches as you settle into the couch, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. Your ability to make yourself at home in his space doesn't go unnoticed, and he finds it almost endearing.
"Fair enough," he smirks, moving towards the small kitchenette area. "Dinner won't take too long. I promise I'll have you spilling your secrets soon enough." He grabs a few items from his cupboards and sets to work on preparing the meal.
"Take your time pretty boy," you murmur, eyes glued to his back as he moves around the kitchen.
Sergei's shoulders visibly tense for a moment as your voice drifts over to him, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. Your playful nickname causes a familiar heat to rise up within him, and he can feel your gaze on his back.
Without turning around, he responds in a low, teasing tone, "Careful, I might get used to the praise."
"Youre right, I cant inflate your ego too much." you giggle softly. He finally finishes the meal, bringing you a bowl of the stew.
Sergei carries the bowl of warm stew back to the living area, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he sets it down in front of you. He doesn't miss the way your eyes light up at the sight and smell of the food, and it only adds to his amusement.
"Here," he says, placing the bowl gently in your hands. "Be careful, it's still hot."
Once you have the bowl securely in your grasp, Sergei takes a step back, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. He watches you closely, his gaze taking in every movement, as you bring the spoon to your lips and take a tentative taste of the stew.
"It's perfect Sergei, amazing." you hum in satisfaction, your eyes meeting his while you enjoy the meal he prepared.
Sergei's smirk blossoms into a satisfied smile as he watches you relish the meal. Hearing your genuine praise and seeing the contentment on your face brings a sense of satisfaction to him.
"Glad you like it," he replies, leaning back a bit as he observes you. His smirk morphs into a wry grin, and he adds, "I promise I didn't poison it."
"Well of course not, you can't go poisoning your only friend." the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you finish your meals. Once you place the empty bowl on the coffee table you feel the intense stare boring into the side of your head, Sergei watching your every move.
As you set your empty bowl aside, you can feel Sergei's intense gaze on you. His eyes meticulously watch you, cataloging every movement, every flicker of emotion that passes across your face. Being the center of his unblinking attention is a sensation that never fails to awaken the butterflies in your stomach.
After a moment, he breaks the silence. His voice is low, with a hint of huskiness in his tone. "So... about that little secret you've been holding onto..."
"Well, I was thinking.. about asking you if I could stay here for the night." you turn to him, expression pleading. "Look I know it's a little inconvenient-" he interrupts you.
Before you can finish your statement, Sergei cuts you off. You sense a hint of surprise mixed with something else in his expression, but it's quickly concealed behind his usual smirk.
He crosses his arms over his chest, a slightly challenging look in his eyes. "Let me get this straight," he says, his voice taking on a dry edge. "You want to... crash here for the night, no explanation?"
"Well I was going to explain but you interrupted.." you murmur, voice soft as your gaze falls to your hands. "It's just I really like spending time with you.."
Sergei's expression softens as he hears the note of disappointment in your voice. The hint of challenge in his eyes fades, replaced by a touch of guilt. He doesn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on your lowered hands.
After a moment, he sighs heavily, his voice holding a hint of resignation. "So, that's your big secret then? You just want more time with me?"
"Yes.." you whisper, silently cursing yourself for ever bringing it up. You always knew that your affections were one sided yet the confirmation of it hurts more than you were anticipating.
Sergei's eyes are unreadable as he absorbs your words, his expression neutral. A moment of silence follows, the only sound in the room the soft crackle of the fireplace. His gaze is fixed on you, studying your expression and the subtle change in your demeanor.
When he speaks, his voice is softer than usual, a hint of sympathy lacing his words. "Is that the only reason? You just... want to be around me more?"
"I like your company, you're comfortable, *familiar*." you carefully gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes.
A muscle in Sergei's jaw clenches as he looks down at you, your big, pleading eyes meeting his. The sight stirs something within him, but he's not entirely sure what it is.
After a moment, he lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of resignation and something else. "Fine," he mutters, looking away. "You can stay here whenever. But only on one condition."
"Anything you want." you smile, moving closer to him, your eyes filled with excitement.
Sergei notices the way you shift closer to him, the gleam of excitement in your eyes making it obvious how much you want to be close to him. He lets out a huff, pretending to be nonchalant.
"Anything, huh?" he muses, his voice a low rumble. "Careful, you're giving me free reign to make all sorts of demands now."
"You're free to make any demands, it is your house after all." you bring your hands to his knees, fingers gently digging into his clothed skin. "But what is your condition?"
As you place your hands on his knees and dig your fingers into his skin, Sergei can feel a slight shiver run down his spine. The mixture of surprise and a sudden flare of heat takes him momentarily off guard, and he has to force himself to focus on the conversation.
He takes a moment to reply, eyes flickering down to your fingers before fixing on your face again. "My condition..."
He pauses, swallowing back a sharp reply and instead opting for a straightforward request. "You're not sleeping on the couch."
"Then where will I sleep?" your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you move closer.
Your closeness causes Sergei's breath to hitch ever so slightly, his eyes roaming over your face as you approach. He takes a deep breath, attempting to steady himself.
"You can take my bed," he says bluntly, his gaze not wavering from yours. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"No," you begin to protest, "can we share the bed? I don't want to steal it from you..."
Sergei blinks, clearly not expecting your response. The idea of sharing his bed with you had never occurred to him before, but now that you've suggested it, he can't deny the spark of heat it ignites within him.
He clears his throat, trying to maintain his cool composure. "You... want to share the bed?" he repeats, his voice a touch huskier than usual.
"Yes.." you grin sweetly, "I'd love to." Sergei can feel the heat rising in his cheeks as you grin sweetly up at him, your eagerness obvious. The thought of sharing his bed with you - of having you that close to him for an entire night - is suddenly far more appealing than he wants to admit.
He swallows, trying to regain some sense of control. "Very well," he manages, his voice rough. "You can share the bed with me, then."
"Shall we head to bed then? It is getting a bit late.." you yawn quietly.
With your yawn catching his attention, Sergei glances at the nearby clock. It was indeed getting late. The thought of sharing a bed with you is still on his mind, but he has to admit, he's also feeling rather tired.
"Right." he agrees huskily. He stands from the couch, offering you a hand to help you up. "Let's get some sleep then."
"Lead the way, handsome." you follow close behind as he guides you into his bedroom.
As you follow behind him, your light footsteps echoing quietly against the wooden floorboards, Sergei leads you into his simple yet cozy bedroom. The space is just big enough for a queen-size bed and a small dresser, but it's kept tidy and neat.
He steps aside to allow you to enter first, gesturing towards the bed. "Make yourself comfortable," he murmurs, his eyes on you the entire time.
"Thank you, Sergei." you silently creep into the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed before sliding out of your pants, folding and placing them on the nightstand. You're blissfully unaware of his tense gaze, watching as you pull your bra off from under your shirt, placing it off to the side.
Sergei stands in the doorway, watching every one of your movements with unblinking intensity. His eyes seem to follow your every gesture like a hawk tracking its prey. Your casual actions - stripping off your pants and then your bra - are like a slow, torturous reveal to him.
His jaw clenches, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides as he struggles to maintain his composure. He cannot deny the effect your presence in his space - in his *bed* \- is having on him.
With a final small stretch you slip beneath the covers, eyes wandering to look at him in the doorway. "Are you coming in?" you murmur, not wanting to steal his space from him.
Sergei's eyes remain glued to you as you slip beneath the covers, a mixture of desire and restraint clearly visible in his gaze. At your question, he snaps out of his trance, realizing he's just been standing there staring.
He clears his throat slightly, steeling himself before slowly approaching the bed and pulling back the covers on the other side. "Yeah. I'm coming in."
He slides into the bed beside you, trying to maintain a distance but finding himself drawn to your warmth.
"Good night Sergei.." you whisper in the silent and dark room, eyes fluttering shut as you cuddle into the sheets. The sound of your soft voice whispering goodnight only serves to heighten his senses, the intimacy of the situation making it difficult for him to even breathe.
"Good night," he mutters in response, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment longer before he turns his gaze to the ceiling. It's going to be a long night.
As the minutes tick by, Sergei finds himself unable to sleep. Your body is a mere arm's length away from him, causing the most primal part of his brain to struggle against the temptation to pull you flush against him.
He tries to think of anything else - anything that could distract him from the overwhelming desire surging through him. Yet, no matter what he tries, his mind drifts back to you, lying so close but still just out of reach...
You shift in your sleep, soft incoherent murmurs slipping from your parted lips as you move closer to him, craving the heat of his body, the feel of his skin against yours.
As you shift closer to him, unconsciously seeking his warmth in your sleep, it takes every ounce of Sergei's willpower not to react. He feels the heat of your body as you press up against him, your murmurs sounding like a soft siren's song to his lust-fogged brain.
He grits his teeth, his muscles coiled tight as he struggles to resist the urge to pull you even closer. "Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, his heartbeat increasing with every inch that separates your bodies.
Your bare leg wraps around his thigh as you pull yourself flush against him, your cheek pressing into his chest. You stir slightly, eyes fluttering open and blinking slowly.
You place your hand on his chest, fingers brushing over his abs as you turn your head to look at him. Your lips curve into a gentle smile as you make eye contact with him, "Is everything alright?"
As you stir and awaken, the innocent brush of your fingers against his chest sets his nerve endings ablaze. His skin tingles wherever you touch, the feel of your bare leg wrapped around his sending a jolt of heat through him.
He meets your gaze, his own eyes dark with poorly concealed desire. "It's... fine," he manages to rasp out, trying to ignore the way his body is reacting to your touch. "Just... can't sleep, that's all."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" your eyes lock with his, full of sleepy affection.
Your sleepy gaze, full of warmth and affection, only makes Sergei's self-control slip further. He swallows roughly, his hand itching to reach out and touch you, to pull you even closer to him.
"I... I don't... know..." he whispers hoarsely. His gaze drifts down to your parted lips, the temptation to lean in and claim them nearly overpowering. "You're making this very... *difficult* for me, you know." Your eyes widen as you realize his implication, your body tensing slightly.
Sergei can feel the tension in your body as you realize the meaning behind his words. He curses himself silently, hating the way your slight recoil makes him feel.
He loosens his grip on your hip, shifting to create a small gap between your bodies, his voice dropping to a more soothing tone. "I didn't mean to startle you. It's just... your presence here, in my bed... it's stirring up some unexpected... *desires*."
"Do you.. desire me?" your voice is a breathless whisper as you scan his features, your heart pounding rapidly inside you.
Your quiet question hangs in the air, and Sergei finds himself hesitating for a moment, the weight of his answer almost too much to bear. His gaze fixates on you, unflinching, as his fingers tighten ever so slightly on your hip.
"Yes," he finally responds, his voice a rough, low rumble. "I do. More than you could possibly understand."
You take a shakey deep breath, gathering the confidence to make a move on this gentle giant. You slide the blankets off of your bodies, moving to straddle his hips, your eyes full of desire as you gaze down at him.
Sergei's eyes widen slightly as you remove the blankets and boldly straddle his hips, your unexpected move taking him off guard. The sight of you looming over him, your eyes full of desire, sends a sharp thrill of heat through his body and straight to his core.
His hands fly to your hips, gripping them with a possessive force. "What are you doing...?" he whispers hoarsely, his voice thick with restrained desire.
"Sergei.. I want you." you press your palms to his chest, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his.
As you begin to rock your hips against his, Sergei feels a growl rumble in his chest, his fingers digging further into the flesh of your hips. The pressure builds between your bodies, the friction of your movements driving him wild.
He grabs your wrists, pinning them down on his chest as he looks up at you, his eyes full of a primal need. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," he hisses, his voice barely recognizable.
You continue to grind against him, soft unintelligible noises falling from your lips as you get lost in the feeling of his hardness pressed into your cunt.
With each movement of your hips, Sergei's control unravels further. The feel of your body, grinding against his hardness, sends a surge of raw need through him. He groans loudly, his grasp on your wrists tightening as he fights to maintain some semblance of restraint.
"Fuck... You... You're going to drive me insane," he mutters, his voice rough and hoarse. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?"
Sergei's eyes flare with a wild, almost desperate hunger as he watches you, his restrained power a stark contrast to your unbridled passion. He releases your wrists, allowing his hands to glide up your arms, feeling the softness of your skin against his calloused fingers. "If we do this..." he warns, his voice strained with need. "There's no going back." His words hang in the air, a silent question and a promise wrapped in one.
"I know.. know but I need you, Sergei please." you whine, lost in the intoxication of his body against yours.
Sergei's eyes darken further, the raw desire in them unmistakable. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and for a moment, it seems like he's fighting an internal battle. Then, with a low growl, he surrenders to the need, his hands sliding up to cradle your face.
He leans in, capturing your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that steals your breath away, his tongue demanding entry as your bodies become one in a tangle of heat and passion. The bed beneath you creaks as he rolls you over, his strong arms holding you firmly in place as his hips surge up to meet yours.
Breaking the kiss, Sergei's eyes never leaving yours, he reaches down to tug at the hem of his shirt. With a swift motion, he pulls it over his head, revealing the defined planes of his chest and abs, his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
His gaze is intense as he watches you, his movements deliberate as he undoes the button of his pants and slides them down, his erection springing free. Without breaking eye contact, his hands move to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt and lifting it up over your head.
His thumbs hook into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just enough to expose your bare skin to the cool night air. The anticipation is palpable, his eyes never leaving yours as he hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down further, exposing your wet, eager cunt.
He groans low in his throat, the sight of your nakedness driving him closer to the edge. With one swift move, he rids himself of his own underwear, his cock bobbing heavily with desire. His hand moves between your legs, his fingers sliding through your slickness before he lines himself up, his tip brushing against your entrance.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice a harsh whisper, his eyes burning with need. At your nod, he pushes into you with a slow, agonizingly sweet motion, filling you completely as he buries himself to the hilt.
You nod, unable to find words as his cock slides into you with an agonizing slowness that makes you quiver with anticipation. Your eyes never leave his as he continues to fill you completely, stretching and claiming every inch of your body with a passionate dominance that sends shivers down your spine.
His grip on your hips tightens as he starts to move, his powerful strokes setting a rhythm that echoes through the quiet night. Each thrust is punctuated by a guttural groan, his eyes never leaving yours as you both get lost in the moment.
The room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, mingling with the faint aroma of the stew from dinner. The warmth of his body is a stark contrast to the coolness of the sheets, creating a delicious friction that sends sparks of pleasure dancing across your skin.
As he moves within you, Sergei's eyes burn with an intensity that you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a sense of belonging, a feeling that you are exactly where you're meant to be. His every touch, every kiss feels like coming home, and for the first time in a long time, you feel truly alive and desired.
With each powerful thrust, Sergei's control frays further, his movements becoming more urgent, more primal. His hands grip your hips, guiding your body to meet his with a perfect rhythm that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you.
You moan his name, your nails digging into his back as your body arches off the bed, begging for more. The room is a symphony of your muffled cries and his feral grunts, the sound of flesh slapping together in an intimate dance. Your eyes are locked in a silent conversation of passion, the fire in his gaze igniting a fierce need within you.
You can feel yourself inching closer to the edge, your muscles tightening around him as the pressure builds. "Sergei, I'm... I'm going to cum," you gasp out, your body trembling.
He responds with a low growl, his strokes becoming faster, deeper, pushing you over the precipice until you shatter in his arms, your climax ripping through you like lightning in a summer storm. He follows close behind, his own release a powerful wave that crashes over both of you, leaving you breathless and spent, your bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs and sheets.
He falls to the bed next to you, satisfaction filling his body as you cuddle into his warmth. As you both lay there, the night's passion still lingering in the air, Sergei's thoughts whirl with conflicting emotions.
He can feel your gentle breath against his chest, the weight of your body against his own, and a sudden realization hits him like a punch in the gut. He can no longer deny the depth of what he feels for you.
The way he had just made love to you - as passionately, hungrily, almost desperately as he had - betrayed his true feelings. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as he tries to make sense of his thoughts.
"Sergei," you breathe out his name, your eyes fluttering shut as you cuddle into him.
As you breathe out his name, Sergei's arms tighten around you instinctively. He feels a sudden wave of protectiveness wash over him, a fierce need to keep you safe and loved.
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Yes, my darling?" he mutters into the darkness, his voice thick with an emotion he doesn't dare name.
"That.. that was good," you murmur sleepily, body slowly relaxing.
A small smile tugs at the corners of Sergei's lips as he listens to your sleepy murmur. He can hear the contented exhaustion in your voice, the way your body is melting into his embrace. "Good, huh?" he replies, his tone soft and faintly teasing. "Just good?"
"Perfect." you correct yourself, causing a satisfied and cocky smirk to rest on his lips.
A cocky smirk forms on Sergei's lips as you correct yourself, his ego swelling at your praise. "Perfect, hm?" he repeats, his voice laced with self-satisfaction.
He leans down, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to try even harder next time then. Can't have you downgrading me to just 'good' after all.”
Summary: Sergei takes you home after an incident at your work.
Genre: hurt and comfort, SMUT (mdni)
Warnings: the beginning is very hurt and comfort and then end is filthy smut, sexual harassment, creepy men, pinv, unprotected sex, kinda dubious consent bc reader is in an emotional state (there is still consent but yk), fingering, biting, bruising and marking, blood, hint to animalistic/rough sex, size kink, cum play, breast play/sucking, hint of a pain kink, overstimulation
~ inspired by this and similar asks! thank you dear anon <3 and thank you @lady-jane3 for the translations! ~
SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST
You're the prettiest woman he has ever seen. You're so gorgeous he's almost convinced he's made you up as some form of torture: a fantasy he knows he can't have, and still, whenever he opens his eyes you're there in front of him in your sheer tights and that mid-length skirt that hugs your ass so nicely.
It's almost criminal.
He's already in deep and he hasn't even spoken a word to you.
You have always been intrigued by the group of rugged looking men who walk into the club, especially the ones who speak in a language you don't understand. You've grown accustomed to their orders and you know that the one with the scar on his upper lip reaches for your ass whenever he can, so you've learned to avoid serving near him, and you know one of the younger ones—the one with the ocean blue eyes and dark chestnut curls, always tips you the best.
And yet, he's never spoken a word to you outside of a grunt of acknowledgment.
He just stares from afar, as if calculating your moves, like he's a predator ready to pounce on his prey. It's intimidating.
The first time he'd come around alone, you nearly asked your friend to cover his table, but curiosity had won you over and you'd learned his name. You also learned that his voice is gruff and that he holds incredibly good eye contact when he speaks. He'd tipped you more than necessary that night, sending you a little smile as he left, the innocent flirting you had both been guilty of lingering in the air.
By the sixth time he comes in, you're more comfortable around him. Even when you see he's with the other men, you can't help the smile that illuminates your features as he walks in. You almost bounce over, composing your excitement as you stand beside him. "Hi, Sergei," you say, fumbling for your little notepad (not that you need it anymore, you're just nervous).
The men snicker, mumbling something in what you learned to recognize is Russian. They nudge Sergei's arm, leering at you. Your expression falls a little, holding your breath as you keep your eyes on him.
"Hi, зайка (bunny)," Sergei grumbles, ignoring the laughing. "Our usual—please."
You nod, walking to punch in their orders. Sergei's jaw tightens as the men around him start making unnecessary comments on your behalf, and he's happy you're too far away to hear them.
He's never wanted to hurt anyone as bad as he does these men right now. The way they speak about you makes his stomach churn, which says everything considering he's used to this behavior from the men his father associates with. God, he's really regretting coming to the city even more than he already was.
He watches, making sure you're still preoccupied, before he leaves for the bathroom. He's only supposed to be gone for a few minutes so he's back when you return but, unbeknownst to him, you return earlier.
You walk over, carrying the tray of drinks in one hand. You hesitate when you see that Sergei isn't sitting there anymore and the men seemed to have suspiciously quieted down upon your appearance.
You shake away the nerves and plaster on your best fake smile and avoid the man with the scar on his lip as you bend over to place the drinks down. You can hear them chuckle, talking in Russian, and suddenly you feel someone else's hand on your ass, grabbing at you.
You're used to the groping around here. Rich, powerful men think they can have whatever they want and you're taught to just turn away and ignore them. Keep your head down, as your boss says, so you angle yourself differently, reaching over to put Sergei's drink in front of his seat.
When you do, you feel an arm purposefully skim your shirt over where your nipples are under your bra and you jolt up in surprise. After another short round of laughter, a hand on your arm to prevent you from turning away, and then a harsh slap to your ass, all the remaining drinks fall from the tray and spill all over them and your uniform.
You hold your breath, immediately crouching down to gather the broken glass, but as soon the shards puncture your skin and the men begin to shout in anger, insulting you, you feel threatened.
You stand, yanking your arm away from one of the men's grip before he can grab you and force you closer to him. You run into the girls bathroom, slamming the door behind you and fumbling with the lock, your vision blurry from your tears.
When Sergei comes back, he narrows his eyes as he sees the broken glass on the table and on the ground. His eyes narrow on the blood from where you'd hurt yourself, smelling it instantly. "What happened?" he asks, standing in front of the table.
He can't help but look around, looking for you.
"Your woman is difficult, boy, you should consider whipping her into shape," one of the men chuckles, sniffling. He's half joking, teasing Sergei over his obvious affections for you, but Sergei's eyebrows scrunch in disapproval.
"What did you do to her?" he growls, grabbing the man by his collar and lifting him so he's standing. His gaze is murderous. The older man barks out a laugh.
"What did I do? You mean what did we do?" He smirks, clearly taunting, "We all wanted a feel—" The man doesn't finish his sentence because Sergei punches him, blood splattering across another man's cheeks, as the man he punches stumbles back into the bench.
"какого хрена (What the fuck)?!" The man groans, blood falling from his nose.
Sergei's jaw tightens and he leans forward, grabbing one of the forks, and stabs it into the man's hand before he can lift himself up. The man scream of pain, eyes clamped shut. The other men pause. They remain sitting because of the anger in his eyes as he twists the fork. He doesn't speak, which is possibly more intimidating than if he was to say anything.
He pulls the fork out, letting the man's hand bleed freely, and he doesn't stick around to hear the whining as he turns to find you. He can smell you, your faint perfume, the smell of your blood from a wound, and worst of all he can almost sense your fear. Without hesitation, he's forcing the one-room bathroom door open.
You gasp and stand straighter, instinctively throwing a roll of toilet paper at the intruder.
Sergei dodges the hit easily and stares at you in shock. "Did you just throw toilet paper at me?" He asks, bewildered. You're standing by the tiny sink now, hands gripping the ends as blood pours from your fingers and tears well in your eyes as you look at him.
He can hear your rapid heartbeat.
"You broke in!" You whimper, the tears overwhelming you as they fall. You break and Sergei's gaze softens.
He walks over, taking your hand gently, pulling you into his chest as he leans against the fancy bathroom's wall. His hands find your hair and he holds you close. You sob into him and you whine your words: "I'm sorry I dropped all the drinks!"
Sergei couldn't care less about the drinks and pulls away, his large hand cupping your damp cheek as he takes your hand in his other one and examines the cuts. He runs your hand under water, testing the depth of your injury. They aren't very deep.
"Did they touch you?" Is all he asks, his gaze hard.
You hesitate and he moves his other hand so he's gripping your chin now. "зайка (bunny), did those men put their hands on you?"
He swipes his thumb over your skin. You nod, looking so beautifully broken and Sergei's heart squeezes. He can only imagine what they did for you to be crying. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead and looks down at the cuts on your hand again. His jaw tightens again and he wraps them up with paper towel, stopping the bleeding. They should heal quickly.
"They shouldn't even be allowed to breathe in your presence and yet they have the audacity to touch you?" He grumbles, his voice hoarse. "I'm going to kill them."
You shake your head, holding onto his sleeve once he turns to leave the bathroom and beat his father's associates to a pulp. You stop him, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Please, stay with me. I- I feel safe with you." You say it so quietly but he hears you plainly. He looks at you, all the desire for revenge that was poisoning his blood replaced by the need to hold you close. To promise that no man will ever hurt you like that again.
"Shh, I'm here," he whispers slowly, pulling you in again and holding behind your head. Your nose collides with his chest and you inhale his scent. His arms tighten around you, fingers in your hair as he twirls the strands. He inhales the scent of your shampoo, wishing he could nuzzle his head into your neck to smell your natural scent. He holds in a grunt and simply tightens his hold on you. He'll hold you as long as you need it.
"Can you take me home?" you ask and he can't think of anything more he'd like to do then make sure you're home safe.
Your apartment smells like you. He notices all the little things about you from the way you keep your apartment and he smiles. You sniffle, sliding off your shoes and throwing your keys onto the entrance table. You pause, looking at the bloodied paper towel wrapped around your hand and you open it. You see that the cuts have stopped bleeding and you throw away the makeshift bandage.
"Do you want a drink?"
Sergei turns, a little surprised you would ask. He shakes his head. "I should go home," he says and you grab his arm, shaking your head. You look up at him, touching his cheek and the prickles of his beard. You shake your head. "No?" he asks, confused.
He can see the tears in your eyes and he tenses.
You lean up, whispering, "No. I want you. Make me forget about them," I say, no hesitation in your voice. You can still feel the other men's hands on you, their cruel voices ringing in your ear, and you hate it.
You've wanted Sergei for so long now. You yearn for him to make this situation better.
Sergei's blue eyes burn into yours. He can't smell any alcohol on you but he's a little hesitant. "What are you asking for, зайка (bunny)?" he whispers to you, his large hand running up and down your sides, squeezing your hip.
You kiss him, hoping to answer his question that way. You expected a little hesitation, but the moment you kiss him, Sergei's lifting you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his torso, as he deepens the kiss. His hand finds your hair, tugging on the strands, as you try and catch your breath from the kiss.
"Are you sure?" he grunts into your neck, licking a strip up to your jaw as he nibbles on your skin. "You have no clue what you're asking of me. I'm going to ruin you." He means it too, you can tell, and he finds his way to your bedroom in no time.
As soon as he drops you to the bed, you look up at him. You already look like a mess and his cock twitches in his pants. He growls, teeth flashing as his eyes turn yellow for a split second, and you scramble up to the headboard, your chest rising and falling.
"What are you?" you ask. You feel like prey and arousal pools in your stomach.
You don't receive an answer as he practically tears his shirt with one hand, climbing onto the mattress and pinning your hands to your sides. You're breathing heavily but you aren't scared. He looks almost animalistic now but you still feel safer with him than any man you've met at that club. He kisses you again, pushing you down further into the mattress.
"I can smell you, little one," he laughs, kissing behind your ear as he inhales your scent. "Everywhere," he laughs, one of his hands releases your wrist and skims down your stomach with his knuckles. He presses a palm over your skirt and you catch his gaze.
You nod, using your free hand now to touch his cheek as if to convey your trust. You can't pretend this isn't exactly what you've dreamed of for months.
"You're mine," he growls, ripping your skirt and biting down on your skin. You gasp, wrapping your leg around his hip as his hand pulls down your panties. "After tonight, all you'll feel is me."
You moan, feeling the light sting on your shoulder from where he'd bit you. You know that you'll be covered in bruises and marks once he's finished with you but you don't complain, instead losing yourself in the way he feels; his his fingers open you up for his cock, the grunts and groans he's making in your ear as his lips explore your skin. Everything that had happened before this moment is a now lost memory and all you can think of is him.
You feel him against your thigh once you realize he's removed his trousers and he's as big as you imagined. "You won't fit," you warn him, breathlessly as you pull up his face and look into his eyes. He just smirks and kisses your lips almost sweetly.
"I will," he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck. He gently spreads your legs wider and you let him. You relax onto the pillow, your eyes locked onto his. You watch him, nails digging into his shoulders as you draw blood the moment his cock breaches your entrance and you let out a pained whine.
"Shhh, зайка (bunny)," he says, going slower so you can take him all. You're so wet but it isn't enough. Sergei spits on his fingers, bringing them down to add more wetness and help him ease inside you. "I got you," he promises and you nod, focusing on the future pleasure instead of the pain.
You lift up as he bottoms out, and you bite into him, making him in return as you muffle the cry of pain. Sergei hisses, moaning as he stills inside you for a moment. He waits patiently until you're ready for more. He's used to being patient.
All great hunters are.
"Okay, move," you almost demand, relaxing again and he smirks.
"Impatient little thing," he teases under his breath, rocking his hips forward. It's still a little painful, but in a way that draws moans and whines from your lips. You arch your back, the buttons of your shirt straining against your breasts. Sergei grunts and moves the hand that was on your hip to rip your shirt open, taking your bra with it. His mouth attaches to your nipples, teeth grazing them so you moan.
He's marking your breasts now, hips slamming into yours. He was right, are are taking him all in. "Sergei," you moan, head falling back as your eyes flutter shut. You're breathless and already exhausted as he draws an orgasm from you.
"Mhm, you feel so good around me." Is all he says, still fucking into you. He bites and sucks at your breasts, his large hand palming against your hip bones as he holds you down. You keep your eyes half-open, looking into his as he fucks you again and again and takes another orgasm from you.
By the third, he's flipped you over onto your stomach, hips up, as he pounds into you with no mercy. The only sound now is your whimpered moans and the creak of the bed. "Please," you whine and you can barely keep your eyes open anymore. You have no clue how longs it's been.
"Please what, зайка (bunny)?" Sergei grunts. He's close. He can tell you're at your limit and he doesn't want to push you. He slows his thrust, focusing on the pleasure as he reaches his high.
You whimper into the pillow as he fills you up, his cock slipping out and spilling more cum onto your back. You whine, eyes fluttering shut at the empty sensation.
Sergei catches his breath, pausing to rub the cum into your skin as he slides his hand up to your hair and leans over your back. He pulls you up, turning your head and kissing your cheek gently. His beard scratches against your cheek. "Hi, little one," he smiles and gently strokes your hair now. "Are you okay?"
You hum, letting him guide you onto your back as he rests his head between your breasts, right over your thumping heart. He slides his calloused hands over your sides and presses kisses on your bare skin. You smile, eyes fluttering. He's as rough a lover as he is a gentle one.
"Dove, are you okay?" he repeats, slotting his thigh between yours as he takes a breath. It's late now, exhaustion overtaking you as you rest your cheek on his head. You lift your hand, gently scratching your fingers in his hair. Sergei smiles and kisses your stomach again.
"'M okay," you say happily, "better than okay. I just wanna lay here. With you."
Sergei nods, tightening his hands around your waist. He soothes you, his voice low. "Go to sleep, зайка (bunny), nothing can hurt you when I'm here. я обещаю (I promise)."
You nod, feeling safe as his breath mixes with yours. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep knowing he's there. Knowing that now that he's around you don't have to worry about any sleazy men or unwanted touches.
