Hey guys, figured it was time to actually put a proper masterlist together.
Whether you've just stumbled onto my works or you're someone who's been supporting me for a long time (love you loads) – I hope you enjoy it over here.
I love interacting with you guys, so please leave a comment if nothing else, i'd love to hear from you
<3 lilo
My Fandoms
(I'm in a lot of fandoms, but currently only really write for stranger things because I have the fuel for it, if you will.)
Stranger Things
• Steve Harrington ☆
• The Hawkins' Gossip Mill
• High Risk... No Reward? (SMAU)
• Dmitri Antonov ⁕
Not the Plan
• Part 1
• Part 2: The Chauffeur
Requests:
Feel free to request anything using my asks box.
I don't write smut usually just because I'm not very good at it and I feel that you would probably get a better experience from others who are MUCH better, but I mean never say never 🫣
Since 1983 Steve has felt the filth of another dimension clothe his skin – you are the only one who can wash it all away.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
WC: ~4k
Tags: post epilogue, Steve has ptsd, slight angst in the intro, established relationship, cum play, cum eating/feeding, finger sucking, unprotected p in v, oral (m!receiving), spitting, leg riding?, like a lot of fluids, tit sucking, grinding on stevie’s tummy :), reader has an innie belly button (sorry to my outies), very brief toe sucking (idk how that happened), fingering, slight overstimulation, kinda somnophilia at the end, fluff
Notes: who would have thought a simple request for cum play would take me on the journey that was writing this. It’s gone through so many different iterations and I’m really pleased with how it turned out. This is my first time delving more into Steve’s psyche and it’s been a really fun challenge. Thank you @pillartopost for the request, this is probably not what you expected but I hope you – and all the rest of you – enjoy! <3
Masterlist
Steve did not like to feel unclean.
It reminded him of that place he refused to name now that it ceased to exist.
How its thick, damp air clung to his clothes, his hair, his skin. How its spores seeped into his blood stream through his lungs. The feeling of being coated in other worldly substances, the stickiness of blood – both his and that of the people he loved.
Each time Steve came back from that place, he scrubbed his skin raw but he could not exfoliate away the lingering ick.
That ick led to Steve having a vigorous hygiene routine. He showered first thing in the morning – rinsing off the cold sweat of his nightmares – and last thing at night. Often also during the day, especially after jogging around the dusty baseball field all afternoon.
All that came out in the wash.
The thing that truly made him feel filthy did not.
Even two years on from the last time he flipped, he could feel it under his skin. Settled in his bones like a constant chill of a ghost passing through him. He wondered if it would ever fade or if he was cursed to feel the coldness of guilt deep within him for the rest of eternity.
Then came you.
You who brought warmth when he shivered, heat when he froze, and love when he felt like he wasn’t worthy of it.
Steve was not a religious man, hadn’t been for a while and he’s not sure he ever really was. Yet he worshipped at your altar and drank from your body like it made him holy, drowning the devil inside himself.
Yes he felt you from within, he felt you bloom from his chest, but he needed to feel you everywhere. Needed you to cover his skin so he could feel something slick that wasn’t from a creature of his nightmares but the girl of his dreams.
You gave him what he needed. You didn’t ask questions. Didn’t ask why his first instinct when he jolted awake in the middle of the night was to slide down beneath the sheets and rub his sweaty face into your cunt.
Why would you when he made you feel so good. When he pulled every ounce of your love from you and you still found more to give.
In return you welcomed all that Steve had to give – which was a lot.
Because the more he slathered himself with you, the more he needed to give you the same treatment.
It wasn't to show dominance, it was a display of devotion. A primal compulsion to cover you, like it would protect you from all that he had seen. A second skin made of him. Whether it was by trailing saliva between your breasts or smearing his cum over your rear.
At first Steve worried that the rot was so deeply set inside him, that anything that expelled from his body would corrupt you, the one thing in his life that wasn't sullied by demons. But each time you seeped under his skin as he snuck into you, part of him healed.
It became a ritual in which you claimed each other as lovers, partners, equals. It was better than any diamond ring Steve could put on your finger – though he knew he would do that too when the time was right.
Sex was merely foreplay. A means to get you slick, bathe in each other, before the ritual could begin.
Steve collapsed on top of you breathless and sweaty, his cock still twitching inside you from his release. You laid pressed between his warm body and the soaked sheets.
For most couples this was the end of the night, time to roll over and say goodnight – not you two.
When he regained enough of his energy, Steve flopped off you making you both wince at the loss of your bodily connection.
Your eyes raked over his form, his hairy chest already matted with sweat, curling into his belly button and down to the base of his cock. Evidence of both your releases clung to his pubic hair. He had slightly softened but you knew it wouldn't be long until he toughened up.
You reached over and traced a finger up the side of his length making Steve shiver. He was dripping with a mixture of you and him.
If there was one thing Steve loved more than covering you in him, it was covering each other in the combination of both of you. Like spitting into your palms and shaking hands, it bonded you in an unbreakable pact of dedication to one another.
The mixture gathered on your finger and Steve’s eyes followed your every move as you held up your glistening tip, took it into your mouth and sucked on it greedily. The taste danced on your tongue, a mix of sweet and salty that you craved more of.
You repeated your movements but this time raised your finger to Steve. Without hesitation he opened his mouth for you eagerly. He sucked on your finger and you watched his eyes fall shut in complete satisfaction as he hummed around it.
“We taste so good together, don’t we babe,” you said to him.
Steve nodded, your finger still firmly within his lips.
You pulled it from his mouth with a wet pop as Steve fought to keep it between his lips. You then shifted down the bed, your face level with his cock that you noticed had gotten considerably harder in the last thirty seconds.
Steve sat up on his elbows to watch as you gave his leaking tip a quick peck. You knelt between his legs, feeling his release drip out of you but you clenched your thighs together to keep it in.
With a tight grip you held him at the base, rubbing your parted lips over his tip and smearing the fluid over you like lipgloss.
“Hmm, baby,” Steve hummed. “You look so good like this.”
You smiled as you looked up at him, his tip still pressed against your lips. “So do you.”
Without much warning, you took Steve’s cock into your mouth, moaning around it at the taste you craved.
“Fuck,” Steve gasped and fell back against the pillows.
Your tounge swirled around his head, building up even more wetness from your saliva. It dribbled down his shaft all the way to where you still gripped him at the base.
“God, your mouth is insane,” Steve groaned. He threaded a hand through your hair, pushing it out the way of your face so he could get a good look at you.
His other hand held your cheek as you took him deeper, your eyes fixed on his. Steve fought every urge he had to thrust up into your mouth but he wanted this to last, wanted to see just how much of a mess you could make on his cock.
You hollowed out your cheeks as you dragged yourself off him at an agonisingly slow pace. All sorts of fluids connected your mouth to Steve’s length and you raised your hand up to thumb over his slit, spreading the wetness over him.
“You like getting all messy on my cock, don’t you baby.”
You hummed in agreement, licking your wet lips.
“Why don’t you show me just how messy you can get, huh?”
With that you spat on directly on his throbbing head as you continued to coat his cock. Not like you were even trying to get him off, just trying to soak every inch of him – and there were a lot of inches.
Steve was mesmerised as he watched you drool over him, licking and sucking like he was a God damn lolly pop.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbled lovingly.
You were almost certain there was nothing objectively pretty about the scene between Steve’s legs. But to him it was even more beautiful than a summer sunset or the full moon brightly glowing over the lake. The way you gave yourself to him with the same mouth that spoke those three words that kept him on the surface when he felt like falling through the ground.
You looked back at him with the same intense look he gave you, watching as Steve grew a little more delirious with each lick of your tongue. His chest puffed up, a red flush creeping up his neck all the way to his ears. The image made your slick soak down your thighs.
With Steve’s cock half in your mouth, one hand twisting around what your wet cavern couldn’t cover, the other braced on his hip, you swung a leg over one of his and set yourself down on it. Your dripping cunt made contact with his shin and you gasped around Steve which forced you to take him deeper. His fat head hit the back of your throat and you rutted against his leg, the burn in your throat filtering down into your core.
“Ugh– holy shit,” Steve marvelled at you as you humped his leg like a fucking dog.
You groaned deeply, moving your mouth up and down his cock in time with the rock of your hips. The hard bone of his leg hit your clit almost painfully, the hair there provided a little fiction before it became too saturated. The pressure quickly built, making you slobber down his length just as much as you were soaking his leg.
Steve, always one to try to coax more out of you, jutted his leg up into you. He didn’t care that it made you whine so hard you pulled off his cock, not when you looked as good angelic as you did, anointing a part of him that hadn’t yet been blessed by your devoted cunt.
You lost all focus on Steve as you sat up, pressed your throbbing pussy down harder on his shin, and rode his leg, holding his knee for some support.
Evidence of Steve ran out from your mouth. Your jaw slack as you gave into your own needs, sliding your hips back and forth, your head flung back in pleasure and your eyes screwed shut. The pressure in your core felt heavy and ready to burst.
“Shit, baby, you look so fucking good,” Steve moaned. He couldn’t resist reaching down to touch himself. “Cum on my fucking leg–ah–fucking soak it.”
When Steve’s hand wrapped around himself, he whimpered feeling just how much you had drenched him there. An obscene symphony of squelching and moaning sang out from the two of you as you used each other to get yourselves off. You on Steve’s leg and him just the sight of you.
You fell forward, bracing yourself over Steve, your tits swinging above where he worked himself as you found the angle you needed to stimulate yourself enough to cum.
“Fuck, Steve–ugh–oh god.”
Your hands tightened in the sheets next to Steve’s waist, as he continued to jerk himself off below you. With you over him, it was impossible for Steve to not thrust up into his fist, his leg met your rhythm causing the pressure in your core to pop.
You pulsed over Steve’s leg and when he felt you soak him he followed your lead and shot his cum straight up into your chest.
Like a mind numbing circle of pleasure, the feeling of Steve coating you made you continue to move over his shin, messily sliding up and down to spread your slick. Steve stroked himself slowly, extracting as much of his cum on you before he simply dribbled down himself onto his hand.
You completely lost all ability to keep yourself up and collapsed to the side, slipping off Steve's leg and thudding to the mattress beside him.
It was almost as if you blacked out until you felt Steve’s wet hand stroke your face. You didn’t even open your eyes to him, just felt the warmth of his sticky palm on your cheek.
As tired as you were – and you were sure Steve was too by the way his breathing took awhile to settle – you knew the night wasn’t over. Not when Steve had just got your tits dripping with his cum.
“C’mon now,” Steve grunted and before you knew what was happening he was pulling you up by your armpits to be level with him. Your head quickly found comfort in the plush pillows as Steve got your limp body comfortable.
“You wanna keep going?” he asked so sweetly it made your teeth hurt.
You hummed in agreement nodding against the pillow, your eyes still shut and a content smile on your lips.
Steve chuckled softly, his hand back on your cheek and his thumb caressed your bottom lip.
“You know you have to say it, baby,”
Through heavy lashes you looked at Steve. His face was smooshed against the pillow next to you, his hair damp and stuck to his forehead, he was glowing in the dim light of the bedroom.
“I want to keep going,” you said slowly, enunciating each syllable so he knew you were certain.
“That’s my girl.”
Steve leaned in, brushing his nose against your cheek as he captured your lips in his. A series of quick but insistent pecks that quickly turned more heated once you got a bit of strength back. You felt Steve smile wide when you grabbed the back of his head to pull him closer.
You tangled together until you weren’t quite sure who was on top, sticky bodies pressed together as you rolled around the bed. Steve’s tongue was hot and needy against yours. Your foot brushed the wetness you left on Steve’s leg and you moaned deeply into him as you felt how you had coated him.
As you did, Steve’s tongue explored the depths of your mouth. You two created an extraordinary amount of saliva between your lips making wet smacking sounds as you swapped fluids back and forth.
When Steve’s lips pulled away from yours he was on top of you, pressed against your cum covered chest. As you parted slowly, a messy string of spit connected you. Steve slurped it up into his mouth and spat it back into yours – your lips parted and waiting. You whimpered at the impact.
You both took in long breaths that made your chests inflate. Steve’s hair tickled at your nipples with each inhale and his breath danced on your face with every exhale.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” Steve whispered.
His eyes darted across your face like he was trying to take in every little detail of you at once. His hand gently brushed the hair out of your eyes to see more.
“I love you, Steve,” you said so softly and so easily, like it was obvious, like it was natural.
Steve never got used to hearing you say it, especially when you said it first and with that accompanying brightness in your eyes like you really meant it.
So he took a while to respond. It didn’t make you worry he wouldn’t say it back – he always did. You just knew he needed to take a little moment, like he had to let the words hang in the air to make sure they were real, that you were real.
Then you stroked his jaw. That’s real. No evil could recreate a touch as soft as yours.
“I love you too,” he said finally and the flood gates opened.
“I love you,” he repeated, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I love you.” He kissed your jaw.
“I love you.” Your neck.
“So,” the base of your throat, “so,” your sternum, “fucking,” the swell of your breast, “much.”
Steve groaned wetly as he opened his mouth wide over your tit, taking the nipple into the heat of his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He tasted himself on you and it only made him want more.
Not wanting to leave the other one neglected, Steve’s hand massaged at your other breast, his thumb rubbing his cum over the hard peak of your nipple.
Your breathing quickened under Steve’s touch. His body was heavy on top of yours, slotted between your legs. You wrapped them around him pulling him tighter into you and your core pressed against the pudge of his tummy, the trail of hair brushing your wet folds. Steve could feel it too, how you soaked the already matted hair.
He let out a breathless moan as he switched to your other tit, drooling over it, kissing, licking, sucking. The one he had previously slobbered on, now coated with a mixture of his cum and saliva, he kneaded firmly. Like he wasn’t just rubbing it over your skin but into it, getting it deep into your flesh through your pores.
Watching Steve completely lose himself in the messiness of your body made you grind your hips into his belly, getting him wet as he continued to drench your skin. He wasn’t so much cleaning his cum off you but adding to it.
He shifted down, trailing his mouth through the river he created that flowed from your chest into your belly button. He stopped there to dip his tongue into the hollowed out skin, lapping up what had collected.
He continued south. His lips grazed your glistening folds as he paused to breathe in your scent and chastely kiss you. He was gone before you could lean into the touch.
Steve crawled back off the bed as he dragged his lips down the inside of your leg leaving a wet trail down to your ankle. A chill skirted over your skin at the loss of Steve’s warmth but his eyes lit a fire inside you that kept you burning.
He stood tall at the end of the bed. His cock just as prominent, pressed up against his belly and swollen red like it was screaming for you.
His rough but comforting hand caressed your ankle as he picked it up and pressed a kiss to the arch of your foot. You sat up on your elbows as you watched Steve take your big toe in his mouth. Your eyes widened at him and his never left yours.
“I didn’t know you were into that,” you commented, slightly teasing but you enjoyed the wet warmth of his mouth around you more than you expected.
Steve released your toe with a pop to speak, “I’m into you.”
He lowered your leg back down to the mattress a smirk on his face. “Every bit of you.” His calloused fingers grazed up the outside of your leg.
“From your edges.” Steve crawled back on the bed between your legs, his touch growing firmer as he reached closer to where you ached for him. “All the way to your middle.”
Two of Steve’s thick fingers were inside you before you could even comprehend them pressing at your entrance. The sudden intrusion shot fire up your spine, arching you off the bed as you cried out in pleasure, not even able to say so much as his name.
Steve started pumping his fingers in and out of you recklessly as if he was trying to see how loud he could make you squelch.
“So wet, don’t know how you got anything left.” It wasn’t said to tease you but to awe at how your body continued to give and give and give.
“Gah! Steve...” you choked.
You wrapped your hand around his wrist and Steve’s movements slowed to a lazy drag, massaging your walls with each pass through you.
“Too much?” Steve asked worryingly.
You shook your head adamantly. “No–ah–just…”
With your hand slipping down over Steve’s fingers, you joined him in the warmth of your cunt by inserting a finger along with his.
“Oh fuck,” Steve groaned as he felt your finger slide between his inside of you, your body arching into the fullness.
It felt more intimate than having his cock inside you. The two of you, practically holding hands, fingers intertwining, inside of you. Working together in perfect sync to make you see stars that were only visible in this dimension.
“Can you give us another, baby?”
Us, not him. Because when you tangled together covered in each other, unsure of where you ended and he began, there was no you or him, only us.
“Mm.” You nodded as much as you could. Your body was riddled with static, buzzing through your core to your limbs.
Steve thumb came to your sensitive clit, circling it slow but firmly as you both worked your fingers against your walls.
“You feel that?” Steve curled your finger into your spongey spot and you cried out a yes.
“Feel how it makes you clench?”
You did, your cunt clamped down on the combination of fingers inside it, the buzz evolving into a thudding pulse.
“Oh Steve, Steve–God–is so good, so fucking close… Steve, Steve!”
You repeated his name like you had every other word you ever knew sucked out along with your cum. Your body trembled with an overwhelming pleasure that stole your breath.
Steve took over to help you ride out your orgasm, his fingers helping to move yours softly until you squeaked and squirmed from the overstimulation.
He pulled his drenched fingers from you, yours slipping out along with them. Steve’s sticky hand rubbed slow circles over your tummy. The pressure helped ground you as you came down from your high.
Steve murmured loving things into the air surrounding you, as if his words could cloak you also.
So pretty.
Did so good.
I love you, baby.
He laid down next to you, his fingers dragged up your torso, leaving a slick path from your cunt. He settled his hand on your jaw to turn you to face him.
Your eyes were drooping, unable to carry the weight of being awake any longer.
“It’s okay, baby,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb over your eyelid, still damp with your arousal. “Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”
You shook your head no, slowly like it weighed a tonne.
“Baby…”
“Steve,” you croaked. “I can feel how hard you are.”
Steve laughed softly as he looked down to where his solid length pressed into your thigh. He hadn’t taken notice of the way he throbbed until now, having been content with vicarious pleasure through you.
“It’s okay,” he assured.
“No, it’s not.”
With all the strength you could muster, you rolled over and scooched your back into Steve’s chest. His cock rubbed against your ass as you wriggled into his grasp.
Steve let out a low grunt and opened his mouth to protest but you slid his hand around you to cup your breast and all of his words fell flat.
“You can use me, Steve. I want you to.”
Your hand encouraged his to squeeze your breast and Steve jutted into your cheeks at the feeling of your nipples still hard under his palm.
“But,” Steve said as he held back a moan. “You’re gonna fall asleep.”
“I like having you close. Please, Steve.”
You snuggled more into the warmth of his body, fighting back the pull of sleep enough so that you could be awake to feel him push into you. The feeling of Steve surrounding you and filling you quickly lulled you to sleep.
It didn’t dampen Steve’s spirits that you were completely able to sleep through him fucking you deep and slow, instead it warmed his heart. That you felt so at ease, so safe, as to let him – want him to – take what he needed from your body in its most vulnerable state.
Steve felt he could almost drift off all the same. The warm feeling of you taking him as you breathed softly and mumbled incoherently, settled in his arms like you were always meant to be there. Covered in each other's deepest, darkest parts that Steve never thought he’d feel so comfortable sharing let alone let sit on his skin for the night.
But each day with you healed a part of him. Until every corrupted cell in his body died off and was replaced with new ones that never knew the filthy worlds beyond – only you.
Now, in the safety of his right-side-up bedroom, for the first time since 1983 Steve felt clean.
࿓ Summary: When your car keys go mysteriously missing, you're left desperate for a ride home. And lucky you, Steve Harrington is there to rescue you. What starts as one late night drive home, turns into something way more meaningful.
࿓ CW: Fluff, Steve being a sweetie, mutual pining, silly excuses, no use of y/n, Steve gets attached easily, Dustin and Robin plotting and scheming
࿓ A/N: What I would give to be driven home by Steve Harrington
࿓ WC: 2.4k
࿓ Song Inspo: ↻ ◁ | Drive by The Cars | ▷ ↺
"What the hell??" You muttered to yourself, frantically searching through your bag. "This is ridiculous, I just had them..." You groaned and checked your pockets for the second time.
Robin casually leaned over the counter, pushing aside a stack of movies. "Missing something there?"
"I can't find my keys, which makes no sense because I just got here 20 minutes ago. I swear I put them in my bag, and now they're just gone."
Robin let out a small hum, "Well, you made it here with them, obviously. So let's just look for them."
You nodded, letting out a small sigh as your eyes trailed over the floors of Family Video. Dustin appeared beside you out of thin air, hovering over you as you looked underneath the horror display.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Jesus-" You jumped slightly, frowning as you stared at the teen. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing? I'm looking for something."
Dustin shrugged, "I don't know you like that, for all I know you could be rigging some sort of evil device."
Your eyes narrowed, "And why would I do that?"
He made a strange noise, "I dunno, feminine rage or something like that?"
Your eye twitched, "Don't you have dice to roll and some made up characters to cry over?"
"It's not just dice rolling. It's critical thinking and collaboration that allows you to experience different lives and stories. And just so you know, we don't play on Tuesdays."
You rolled your eyes, continuing your search as Dustin continued explaining the magic that was Dungeons and Dragons. You finally looked back up at him, "Dustin, if you don't shut up in the next ten seconds, you're going to see some real feminine rage."
He swallowed hard, staring at you for a moment before scurrying off to the break room again.
Robin laughed from the comedy aisle, "I don't think I've seen you that frustrated with someone before."
"He was pushing my buttons." You mumbled, standing up with a defeated sigh. "They're not here." You whined.
"They have to be, we'll find them." Robin's head popped up.
"Find what?" Steve stood in the door frame that led to the back, hand resting on his hip.
"My keys. They're gone." You frowned over at him.
Steve pushed off the door, going over to the counter. "I'm sure we'll find them. What kind of key is it?"
"All of them! My car and house key are on the same keychain. I'm totally screwed without them. My parents are out of town this weekend so if I can't find the house key's I'm fucked. Not that it will matter if I have no way to get home." You sulked over to the counter, dropping your head onto it.
Steve let out a small laugh, "Hey, it's gonna be okay either way. If we can't find your car key I can take you home, and didn't you say your folks keep a spare key under that rock with your hand print on it?"
You blinked, looking up at him, "I- yeah.. I did say that. Like months ago, how did you remember that?"
Steve shrugged, the tips of his ears turning red. "Dunno, maybe I was preparing for this day to come."
You smiled, suddenly not feeling so frustrated about the missing items.
Robin glanced over at Dustin who had peeked out from the breakroom. The two of them smiled triumphantly and nodded at each other.
Despite looking through the whole store, your keys were in fact MIA. It was like they had disappeared into thin air, or rather disappeared into Dustin's backpack.
You waited patiently for Steve's shift to end, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest as you thought about him driving you home. By the time Steve was cleared to leave, the sun had started setting, casting a beautiful glow on Steve's signature beamer.
He opened the door for you, bowing slightly as you slid in, "M'lady."
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile pulling at your lips. "Get in the car, ya weirdo."
He shut the door before jogging over to the drivers side and slipping in. The drive was nice, the streets of Hawkins passing by as you and Steve slipped into conversation about whatever came to mind. You felt at ease next to Steve. It seemed like the car had adjusted to the perfect temperature, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in your chest. Or maybe that was because of the way Steve kept glancing over at you each time you laughed at some silly joke.
The ride came to an end way faster than either of you were willing to admit. And before you knew it, he had pulled into the driveway of your house. You reached for the handle, moving to open it before he locked the doors. "Ahhh! What are you doing?!" He looked at you like you were crazy.
You stared at him like he had three heads, "I'm opening the door, Steve."
"Absolutely not." He quickly got out of the car, rushing back around and pulling the door open for you again, repeating his bow from before. "Once again... M'lady."
You smiled and stepped out with a bright laugh, "You're ridiculous."
He shut the door and started walking with you to your door. "No, I'm chivalrous."
As you reached the porch, Steve squatted down and found the key under the rock. "Boom." He held it out towards you.
You took it, fingers gently brushing his. "Thank you, Steve."
"It's no big deal." He shrugged, hands shoved in his pockets.
"No it is, without you I would still be totally freaking out." You smiled sheepishly.
"Well... I'm glad I could help." He smiled.
You carefully unlocked the door, turning slightly and smiling at him, "Night, Steve. Get home safe."
He nodded, "You too- shit- I mean I will. Night." He quickly turned and made his way back to his car.
You laughed and shut the door. Not even 30 seconds later there was a knock at the door. You opened it back up, with a raised eyebrow. Steve stood awkwardly on the porch. "I just realized you've got no way to get around. Well- I knew that- but it just clicked that you might need to go somewhere tomorrow and you don't have your car. So I just wanted to let you know if you need anything or need to go somewhere I don't mind driving you." He took a deep breath.
You smiled shyly. "That's really sweet, Steve. But I'm sure you've got a lot of things to do. I mean you've got work, and you're probably hanging out with people, I'd hate to mess up plans or be in the way."
He shook his head, "You won't! I mean I'm offering. I really don't have any issue with it, and I'd hate for you to be stuck asking around all week. So until you find your keys, I'm your guy- that sounds- I'm your ride."
You bit back a laugh, "Alright, you're my guy, Steve."
Steve smiled proudly, "Yeah, good, good. So just give me a call, I mean it!" He started walking backwards off the porch, tripping slightly over a plant.
You laughed, watching him retreat to his car with a lopsided grin. You yelled out before you could stop yourself, "Hey Steve!?"
He straightened up, leaning against his car. "Yeah!?"
"I just realized! I need to get groceries tomorrow! My fridge is fully empty!"
He nodded, "Alright! I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon, that sound okay!?"
You smiled and nodded, "Yeah! I'll see you tomorrow, don't trip over any more plants on your way home!"
You could see the red tint in his cheeks as he ducked back into his car and peeled out of your driveway.
As promised, Steve was at your house at 12 on the dot the next day. He knocked on the door, his easy smile and messy curls greeting you. You smiled back, "Make it home safe?"
"I'm standing here, aren't I?"
"Hmm, could be. Or maybe I'm dreaming."
"Oh so you dream about me?" He quirked a brow.
"You wish, Harrington." You slipped past him, bumping him out of the way with your hip and locking the door. He smiled as you trailed off to the car, watching you carefully. "You gonna keep staring or get in the car?"
He straightened up, bouncing over to the car. As your finger brushed the handle he let out a startling noise. "Nah-uh! Don't you touch that handle."
You let out a long sigh. "What is it with you and car doors?!"
He opened it for you, "Simply doing my gentlemanly duty."
"Don't say duty."
"Duty." He closed the door swiftly before you could reply.
The week continued like that. Steve had all practically enforced his role as your driver, not that you were complaining. In fact you were doing the opposite of complaining, you couldn't stop talking about how sweet Steve was being. He truly was outdoing himself. He took you to the store, to the laundromat, to the library, anywhere you wanted to go. Steve was mapping out the longest way to get there. And you noticed. You noticed how he would occasionally "miss" a turn, or when he purposely took a longer route.
It would have gotten on your nerves if it was anyone else. But it wasn't just anyone, it was Steve. And you were more than happy to spend a little extra time in his car if it meant more inside jokes and stolen looks.
But the week was nearing to the end, and soon your parents would be home and you would have another available more viable ride.
You sat seated in the beamer, the leather a familiar feeling against your skin. The car was parked in your driveway, had been for almost 30 minutes now while you and Steve gabbed about Robin and Vickie.
"I keep telling her she needs to go for it. It's obvious Vickie likes girls, but she won't listen." He threw his head back against the head rest.
You nodded, "I've told her the same. She's gonna regret it if she never says anything and is always left wondering 'what could have been.' You have to go for that, I feel like life's too short to hide feelings."
Steve sat up more, "So, if there was someone you liked... you would've asked them out by now?" He eyed you carefully.
Your cheeks flushed, "Well... that's a little more complicated. Robin doesn't really know Vickie that well and I-" You quickly cut yourself off.
Steve blinked, "You know the guy well?"
You swallowed hard, pivoting subjects. "So, my parents get back in town tomorrow. So you'll be free of driving me to the store everyday because I always seem to forget something." You laughed lightly.
Steve nodded slowly, staring at the singular bag of chips in the grocery bag. You thought you were slick, saying you forgot to buy your favorite chips, but Steve vividly remembered you getting them on your first trip. "Yeah... But, your parents both work right? So you'll still probably need some rides around town while they're at work."
"Yeah, I will. But I highly doubt my dad is going to just let me do that when I have a perfectly good car of my own. He'll probably go up to the dealership and get another key or something." You frowned.
"Well... maybe your mom can take the car?"
"If I didn't know any better, Harrington, I would say that you're offering to be my personal chauffeur." You teased.
"Something like that..." He scratched his neck. "Can I be honest with you?"
You nodded. "Yeah of course."
He sighed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out your keys with a nervous grin. You blinked at him, reaching over and taking them gently. "I haven't had them the whole time! Dustin gave them to me today. He said he and Robin planned the whole thing. He's had them the whole time..."
"Those little shits." You laughed, turning over the keys in your hands.
"You're not mad?"
"Oh, I'm pissed! Not at you, but those two! Especially Robin!" You shook your head. "Why the hell would they do that?"
"Because, they were trying to help me out." He looked down.
"With what?" Your brows furrowed.
"Cause, I told them I have a.. slight- not slight- big thing for you. And I guess they were just trying to help me get some alone time with you. I'm sorry- if I had known they were going to do all this I would have sto-"
"You've got a thing for me?" You smiled brightly.
He flushed, nodded slowly. "Yeah, big time."
"Y'know when you asked me if I would have asked someone out by now and I said it was different because I know the guy.. I was talking about you. You're my guy, Steve."
He sat up more eyes shining, "Wait seriously!?"
You nodded, "Mhm. And I've really really enjoyed being your passenger princess this week."
"Me too. Y'know it doesn't have to stop. I meant it when I said your mom can take your car and maybe instead of making up excuses to go to the store, we can go on dates?" He watched you nervously.
A big smile broke across your face as you nodded quickly, "Yes! Yeah! I would love that. It was getting pretty obvious that you were taking the wrong turns and longer routes."
"Guilty. But now I don't need an excuse. Now we can just go on rides if you want."
You leaned over the center console, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "And you can stop staring at my thigh and just put your hand there."
Steve pulled you into another quick kiss. "I'm feeling like a late night drive sounds nice right about now."
"I completely agree."
You settled into the seat as he switched on the radio, his hand finding your thigh as the car pulled out of the driveway.
summary: You never planned to end up back in this corner of Indiana; you were never meant to stay. Between all the fighting and planning, you've just forgotten to make your way back to where you were... You're not sure you want to. It was always the plan, but when your uncle comes back from the dead, he brings back home someone you shouldn't want to stay for. You just can't help that you do.
tags: age difference (12 years); slow burn; friends to lovers; secret relationship; self indulgent fic tbh; a lot of character building; alexei is alive; plot with no porn LOL; background byler; jopper 4ever; miscommunication; situationship
a/n: i'm so so sorry for the wait, this was meant to be the last part !! but halfway into writing what is now chapter 3, i realised that this can just be one intermediary chapter for good faith 😅 i have a lot more time on my hands and i've made a lot of progress, so the next part of this fic will be out within the next week :D
w/c: 6.4k
-- read part 1 first here --
THIS WORK IS 100% HUMAN WRITTEN AND I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO IT BEING USED IN ANY CONTEXT INVOLVING AI
“Hey, Soldier.”
Dmitri looks back from where he’s perched on the edge of the patio, eyeing the tree line warily.
“American.” He nods before turning back, letting Hopper come sit beside him.
“How you liking the backwoods of the US? Everything you dreamed of?”
“Better than the walls of Kamchatka.” He murmurs broodingly.
“Pfft. Ain’t that the truth.” Hopper huffs under his breath, reaching for his pack of cigars.
He pulls one out and lights it, taking a drag and sighing before reaching back to offer one to Dmitri.
Dmitri eyes the packet for a moment before remembering your deal. He shakes his head and offers no explanation, simply looking back to the trees. It’s been a week and a half since you two agreed to quit the habit. Week and a half of some sort of fusion of fiery hell and icy pain squashed into the awkward and already painful experience of being alive.
Hopper hums, raising an eyebrow. “Trying to quit?”
He just shrugs, still looking out into the woods.
“Escaping Russia give you a new will to live?”
Dmitri huffs and shrugs again. “Maybe.”
“And what brought this on?” Hopper treads carefully.
“I made a deal.”
“A deal? With who? Mikhail?”
Dmitri looks over at him for a brief moment, his gaze dropping before looking away, just barely masking the grief he carries every damn day, leaving his family behind.
He exhales deeply, his gaze blank. “No… Your niece.”
Hopper’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really?”
He huffs with a nod. “Mm.”
“Well, shit, alright then.” Hopper murmurs, turning away to also look into the abyss of the forest.
After a small pause. “Why are you surprised?”
“Hm? Oh- um… I don't know. I just didn't think she’d ever thought about quitting.” Hopper mutters under his breath.
Dmitri raises an eyebrow. “How come?”
Hopper exhales a puff of smoke. “She was pretty damn addicted when she first got here. Managed to wean her off a box a day to maybe a couple. It wasn't easy.”
Dmitri pauses, absorbing the information thoughtfully. “Son of a bitch. A whole box?”
Hopper glances over at him before nodding. “I can't blame her. She went through a hell of a lot ending up back here.”
“Back here?”
Hopper kisses his teeth and sighs, nodding. “My brother had her here. Couple years after Sara was born… They figured out she was real bright. She got a scholarship to one of the top middle schools in New York, so they left this place behind and lived right next to us for a good while… till I came back here.”
Dmitri looks over at him, silent. Then, “You did a good job.”
“What?”
“Taking care of her.”
Hopper almost laughs at the sentimentality the Russian is displaying. “Yeah- thanks. Basically excommunicated my brother over it once I heard what happened.”
Dmitri huffs and nods. “Good. Piece of shit.”
They leave it at that, not willing to venture deeper into things that they wouldn’t utter to themselves in the mirror anymore.
— - -
A whole season has passed since you got Hopper back. Though it’s hard to tell, now that the government’s involved in every part of your lives and there’s no way to get out of Hawkins and everything looks like something out of a nuclear fallout game.
Hiding out in Hopper’s has been… packed. Four (five, if you count Joyce more often than not) people living in a cabin designed for two, max? Awful. It’s hard to function like a normal person when everyone is in your way. So to avoid it, you spend almost all your time at the SQWK. You seem to follow Steve and Robin around job hunting like you wouldn’t be able to function without each other.
You three just work. But now, things are a bit more complicated than three full grown adult idiots barely holding on to a job purposed for kids in middle school. Robin is always lovesick over Vick and Steve is usually going on and on about how Dustin keeps hanging out with Eddie and not sparing him a glance like a mother of a teenage boy… Oh wait. That’s what he is.
Between all of this sometimes you feel like they’re going to do your head in, but you really wouldn’t have it any other way.
You’ve tried talking to Steve about Dustin, but he’s just distraught over this minor thing, even though he’s in heavy, heavy denial about the fact that he is.
And Robin… she’s a lost cause. You can’t bear to speak to her for more than 2 minutes about Vicky because it’s really just… disgusting.
You keep your thoughts to yourself, or it seems like you do because you basically have none. Your brain is simply focused on the present, knowing that if it thinks about anything else for a second, you’re going to drop the ball, and with all the crawls and government surveillance, that is something you cannot afford.
You usually leave the cabin before 8AM, and return just before 7PM if you three aren’t fucking around after the last air at 6:30. That’s when you get to kick your feet up and relax with the rest of your burrow, which is the only apt description for what you’re living in.
You guys usually hunker down in front of the TV, Joyce and Hopper snuggling in the corner of the couch, El curled up next to you on the other side of it, and Dmitri on the chair next to you guys or on the floor in front of you. Sometimes Murray and Alexei invite themselves over, and you’ve been hearing talk about Dmitri moving in to Murray’s house because he insists he’s burdening Hopper, despite your uncle’s protests. You doubt it’ll happen any time soon, though. It’s too risky now for change when everything works as it is.
It’s been quiet for days, now. But you can feel it coming. Another crawl, a big one. El’s been training nonstop and with Dmitri’s help? She’s fucking unstoppable.
It’s just that Hopper will not let her go, for some reason. Obviously he’s protective, but, even you know her talents are being wasted. Dmitri, Joyce, and Murray have tried to talk him into it, even Alexei’s had a go, which Hopper was much less than pleased about. You’re all just wondering what he has up his sleeve, because he is not this stupid.
The one day you’re not at the SQWK is when you hear it. When you’re shopping around for clothes for El and Hop since they’re technically wanted and dead, respectfully. ‘Upside Down - Diana Ross’ blasting through the speakers of the store you’re in, and Rockin’ Robin’s voice overlayed on top of it.
You practically drop the clothes you’re holding in your hand and rush out of the store, stepping on the gas and driving to Murray’s “secret spot” which is just some backroad in the forest next to a lake where the three Russian speaking men get hammered when Murray brings in a drink delivery.
It’s a drive, but it’s how you work when the signals come through. Murray and Alexei in one car, you and Dmitri in the other. It’s too risky otherwise, to have Murray Bauman and two unidentified men in one car. At least this way, Alexei’s just a friend who’s helping deliver goods with Murray, and you and Dmitri can pretend he’s either a very distant relative or your companion who got trapped here when the government caged you all in. Either works, but one is much easier to sell.
You push the limit through the town roads but as soon as you reach the suburbs, you step on the gas and tear through the backroads of Hawkins. When you can finally see the dead end that means “secret spot” and the random car Murray seems to acquire whenever he’s here, you can hear a lot of laughter and a lot of Slavic dialect. Thank god it’s you and not the government, otherwise they’d all be arrested.
You get out of the car and— oh lord do you wish you didn’t. You never knew seeing Murray with almost all his shirt buttons unbuttoned was a sight that you’d see in your nightmares, but now you do. He’s so… hairy. God.
You throw up a little in your mouth before you remember what you’re here for and clear your throat. “Hey Soviets! Get your asses over here. We’ve got a malfunction at the SQWK!” Your new code for whenever you have a crawl.
They all turn towards you. Oh, they’re all half shirtless. Taking advantage of the luxuries that the USSR couldn’t offer, perhaps.
Their light, happy expressions immediately fall. They drop their beer bottles in the cooler which Dmitri swipes up and they all trudge towards you in a line.
Murray and Alexei quickly run into his car, and Dmitri waits for you to unlock yours, putting the cooler in the backseat before sliding into the driver’s seat before you can think twice about it.
“Hey- No!” You exclaim, opening the door as he buckles himself in, which he never does. “Come on, Antonov!” You groan, catching his smirk as you slam the door and walk around.
When you get into the passenger seat, you don’t even spare him a glance as you toss the keys at him.
“So mad for what?” He murmurs, and you hate how you can hear the grin in his voice. You just want to smack it right off.
“It’s my car.” You huff.
“That makes me your chauffeur, what’s to be mad?” He purrs, starting the ignition.
You side eye him, huffing as he pulls off. He’s obviously very pleased with himself.
“You don't like my driving, is that it?” He calls out over the sound of the radio.
“No. Your driving’s… fine.” You murmur.
“Only fine?” He turns his entire head towards you, a bewildered look on his face.
“Oh my god! Keep your eyes on the road, dipshit!” You hiss as he nearly misses a roundabout.
“Son of a bitch—” He groans as he turns the wheel like it has endless give. It’s an uncomfortable amount of G-force for an eternity before he squares the car off again.
“Now I really don't like your driving.” You comment as you roll your eyes.
He clacks his teeth in annoyance, glancing over at you.
“Don’t look at me like that, Dmitri Antonov. You nearly crashed my goddamn car!” Your hands gesture wildly.
He doesn’t say anything else, but you can see the muscle in his jaw ticking ever so slightly out of the corner of your eye.
The rest of the drive is more or less in silence. When you get to the SQWK, you hold out your hand expectantly, to which he actually obliges and hands over the key.
You pocket it and make your way down to the basement of the building.
“Hey, stranger. What happened to your day off?” Steve greets you with a smirk, giving you a small nod.
“I know you did this cause you missed me, Harrington.” You sneer playfully, squeezing his side gently.
He chuckles, glancing down at you with an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, I broadcasted a crawl signal just to get you here on the one day I finally get a break from you, Little Hop.”
You scowl, your nose scrunching up at the disgusting nickname you were given the second you arrived here. “Do not call me that.”
“Oh, come on. You know it’s cute.” He teases.
“No I do not.”
He chuckles, nodding playfully. “Yeah, it’s cute and fuzzy— holy— shit, man. Didn’t see you there.” He almost jumps, and you turn to see Dmitri standing in the shadows of the corner of the room, and it nearly scares you shitless too. The way he’s just leaning back with his eyes hooded and his expression cold cut.
Eddie has the same reaction, except he’s unfortunately coming down the stairs. Goddamn, it is like watching a comedy unfold in slow motion.
You see the moment the fear strikes his face and he falls flat on his ass on the metal stairs. The devastating clang resounding off all the walls, mixing with his shrill scream and threatening to burst all your eardrums.
“Holy fuck, Eddie!” Robin squeals, and you turn to see her covering her ears and wincing.
“Oh my god, Munson.” Dustin coughs out, laughing. “That was insane!” He almost looks inspired, and you kind of get what Steve means.
“Shit— My ass. Jeez, dude— why’re you standing there all Vecna style?” Eddie groans, eyeing Dmitri who looks mildly surprised, but not fazed at all.
“I’m not doing it consciously.” He offers halfheartedly, except his warm smile comes out as an amused smirk.
Eddie picks himself up off the floor, rubbing his back, still wincing. “That’s even worse.” He murmurs, before you glance at him with an apologetic look.
“Why don’t you sit down, Ed?”
“Yeah, yeah. I think I will. Wow, I’ll never fall down stairs again.” He huffs dejectedly, before limping over to a seat.
You glance over your shoulder at Dmitri long enough to register the smirk still on his face before deciding you’ve had enough of his bullshit and make your way to Hopper, Mike, Joyce and Murray, who are examining the incredibly comprehensive maps they’ve drawn out.
“Hey, Crick.” Hopper murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, which you receive with a contented hum and an arm on his back.
“Hi, Uncle Jim.” You mumble into his arm.
Joyce looks over at the two of you, cooing so hard she’s practically melting on the spot, and you have to admit, you can kind of see why Hopper’s into her. She’s real pretty.
“Hey, Lil’ Hop.” Mike murmurs with a smirk, and upon your ever so subtly violent reaction, lurches back with raised hands.
“Wheeler.” You snap gruffly. Expectantly.
“Sorry. Won’t happen again.” He murmurs as he ducks his head meekly.
“Alright, if we’re done nearly killing each other over here, why don’t we focus on killing the monsters and —I don’t know— the giant monster man who controls all of them?” Murray hollers with feigned excitement, cocking his head way too far to the side.
You all clear your throats and nod, having gotten admittedly sidetracked, and make your way to the centre of the room, watching the blank wall as Mike and Will work the projector. You take a seat on the couch next to Eddie, leaning your head on his elbow, and you feel someone join you and curl up against your side. You reach your hand out and feel El’s soft curls, and you smile to yourself.
Hopper leads the discussion, explaining out the plan. He and Dmitri are on the first truck. You, Steve, Eddie and Nancy are on patrol and recon on the last two trucks, but you guys go down to the tunnels first.
You have a day and a half to prepare, and you cannot afford to make mistakes.
— - -
“Again.”
“What do you mean again?! That was perfect!” Your muscles are burning and your lungs are weak. You swear your trachea is swelling up and your digestive system is ready to regurgitate everything it’s eaten in the last three hours back out.
“Beginner’s luck.” Dmitri shrugs, but you can see that stupid smug expression on his face as he leans back on the tree doing jackshit, whilst you’re running your ass off doing target and camo training.
“Oh my god, Dmitri! This is the sixth round. I know what I am doing!” You groan, waving your rifle haphazardly.
“What’s your best time?” He nods.
“I don’t know. four minutes? Maybe four ten.” You shrug.
He practically scoffs in your face. “You think that’s knowing what you’re doing?” He walks up to you and hands you the stopwatch, pulling it off of his neck.
You don’t even want to look at him in the eye, let alone take anything from him, but you reluctantly accept the stopwatch, handing him your rifle and moving to his position as he takes yours.
You nod to him and he’s off. Holy shit. You wonder if your eyes are deceiving you for a moment the way this man is moving. He’s ducking and rolling through things that were never meant to be permeated by the human body. Every target is hit with pinpoint accuracy and suddenly you have first hand experience with why this man made it to sergeant back in the good old US of SR.
What’s more? He doesn’t make a sound. If you were blindfolded, you’d think it was just the wind moving around you.
He makes his way over the ramp and jumps to the roof of the truck that they use for Eleven’s training. Granted, this does make a sound, but that jump is made for Eleven with supernatural powers. He just did it like it was a morning activity he does on the daily.
You don’t even realise your jaw is on the ground when he jumps off the bus, aims his gun and hits the last target twice square in the bullseye. He notices, with a smile on his face.
An actual smile for the first time today, not one of his godawful cocky smirks that drives you up the walls. His hair is a mess, sticking up slightly and his chest is heaving, his breaths deeper and harsher. His jaw is clenched and you can see it in the way that the muscle there is bulged slightly, accentuating his sharp features. His eyes are alert and alive, and you can see the exhilaration in the way that they’re flitting with excitement across your face.
“So? What’s my time?” He nods, his smile only widening as you check the stopwatch around your neck.
“Three twenty-four.” You huff in slight disbelief, your own heart is racing slightly for him. Watching him throw himself at shit without a second thought and with perfect execution was like watching an MMA fight close up.
You glance back up at him, your eyes wide and your mouth still slightly agape, to see his smile soften at your expression, his eyebrows lulling and his eyes simmering back down, but not any less enthralled.
“You’re insane.” You laugh softly, shaking your head.
He huffs and holds the gun out to you. “Here, I’ll show you how.”
You look between him and the gun for a second, your chest tight and your demeanour apprehensive for a moment. It’s not that you don’t want to. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re slightly intimidated… and maybe a little scared. Not for any particular reason, but just thinking about it— you could mess up, you might hurt him, or someone else, or just look like a complete idiot amongst a hundred and one other things.
“Hey.” He murmurs, catching you out. You’re almost shocked at his tone. It’s soft, and calm, and strangely understanding. “Don’t worry. You’re very good already, I was just giving you a hard time. But we’ll try make it better, yes?” Not the time, but you’ve noticed that his Russian accent is a lot more prevalent when he speaks softly, like he’s not trying to hide it in the moment.
You swallow, looking down at the gun and back up at him. It’s not like you to be this nervous, or nervous at all. But something about actually seeing the soldier in action did something to you.
“Okay.” You nod against your better judgment.
He nods encouragingly, patting your arm firmly and guiding you to the course that you thought you knew like the back of your hand till you saw him take steps you didn’t know were possible on it.
“Here. Hold the gun like this.” He shows you, tucking it into his side whilst maintaining a rigidly straight posture before relaxing and handing it to you.
You stick the gun against your side like he did, and try push yourself as straight up as possible.
He hums before moving to guide your shoulders back, his hands sending shivers of warmth through you. “Don’t push your chest out, keep your shoulders back. And straighten your spine.” He mutters, stepping back to examine you before nodding. “Da. Like that.”
You nod, and look at the course ahead of you, which is so much more daunting than it was before, each component a whole new endeavour.
“Don’t overthink it, do the start exactly how you usually do.” He speaks smoothly, calmly, his deep voice hypnotising you into the security of your focused mind.
You take the first few steps of the sequence like they’re second nature to you, and it feels so much lighter now with the new posture. You want to glance over at him, but you resist, knowing whatever look he has on his face will be ten times better if you do this right.
“Alright, rather than stepping into the next tyre, step on the rim of it. That will let you have a good position to shoot into the next target and duck into the next space. Understand?”
You get the gist of it, but you don’t know how you’re going to apply it to the next unit. You do as he says, stepping on the rim and shooting, but upon trying to spin to duck into the hiding space you’ve never thought to consider before, you fall flat on your back on the wooden platform.
You’re immediately winded, and breathing is a task. Your whole world is slightly blurred and your head kind of hurts. “Ow.”
Dmitri hurries over to you, gripping your shoulders and side of your neck firmly. “You okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”
You think for a moment, trying to assess your own body which is a weirdly alienating task. “I… don’t think so.”
He nods, his eyes flitting over your body before returning to your face. He holds up his hand a couple of inches from your face. “Look at my fingers.”
You try to track his movements as best as you can, but it does make your head spin a little.
He sighs, bringing his hand to your head, brushing his thumb over your temple. “Okay. You need to go inside. Concussion. Mild. Come.”
He holds you steady as you sit up, grasping both your arms as you try to stand up. “There. Steady.”
You try walking by yourself. It’s a bit of a challenge, but only because walking by yourself isn’t possible when Dmitri is not letting go.
“I’ve got it, you know?” You huff amusedly.
“I know.” He hums, but it’s clear he’s just humouring you.
“You’re so… megh.” You mumble.
His eyebrows shoot up with a grin on his face. “I’m what?”
“I dunno… megh.” You don’t even know what you’re talking about, but might as well commit to the bit.
“Is this some American word I do not know?” He chuckles, his head bobbing near yours as he opens the door to the cabin.
“No… It’s just a thing. You have to just know it.” You argue.
“Ah. Definitely concussed.” He hums as he guides you to the couch.
You don’t say anything, plopping down where he leaves you before he’s swiftly moving to the kitchen.
You hear a lot of clanking and gushing of taps as you’re left with your throbbing head. You expect he’s filling you a couple hundred glasses of water.
What you don’t expect is that he’s filled up a glass of water with lemon and a bowl with a washcloth that he’s left on the coffee table.
”I’m gonna put this on your head, yes? Stop worst of the pain.” He explains gently, looking at you for confirmation.
Something in your chest very reluctantly loosens, against all notion of want, letting yourself be gentle with him.
“You don’t have to do all this. It’ll be gone in a couple of days, you know?” You try, but he’s already wringing out the cloth and dabbing it against the back of his hand to check it.
“Couple of days is not good enough when we have a mission tomorrow. But maybe you shouldn’t go.” He muses as he presses the cloth to your head. The icy sensation on your skin is dull and somehow prickly, maybe painful if you were any more sensitive.
You almost let slip what he just said. “What— no. I’m going.” You try to sit up but he keeps you steady, looking into your eyes with such severity it grounds your shaken mind.
“Still. There will be no way you can go if you do not relax now.” He says sternly, his voice low.
You can’t even argue with that. Maybe you could, but only if you weren’t losing your grip on consciousness with every thought you think.
Your body begins to tense as you realise you’re not in control of it. That everything feels distant and out of reach. You don’t like not being in control of what you’re doing. You need to be on it. Otherwise it just doesn’t… work. You can’t trust others around you, and it stresses you out.
He seems to sense your worry, and you feel his hand on your arm, squeezing gently, protectively. “Don’t worry. I’m here.”
You manage a smile as your eyelids begin to get weighed down with sleep. “Is that a threat?”
He chuckles, and you feel the warm huff of his breath on your skin, you can smell faint mint and alcohol on his breath. “Not this time. Sleep.”
And you do. Not because he told you to, but it helped that he was there. As much as you hate to admit it, it usually does now.
— - -
You wake up to the feeling of a warm, small hand wrapped around your waist, and small breaths against your side. You’re a lot cosier than you were when you fell asleep, and it may have something to do with the fact that you’re in your bed, and El is cuddled up with you.
Your vision is slightly blurry, but slowly coming into focus. Your headache is dull, but there.
You barely have time to look around before the door opens, and you see the face of a very tentative Robin, and just behind her, Steve.
They haven’t noticed you’re awake yet, whispering at each other things you can’t quite hear from where you are.
“Is she gonna be okay? In the crawl?” Robin asks warily, tugging on Steve’s sleeve.
Steve chuckles, and you can tell he’s trying to sound sure of himself but it’s not working. “Yeah, course. This is Lil’ Hop we’re talking about. She’s gonna get up and bust all those government asses.” As he keeps talking, he begins to sound more confident and sure in his words, and it fills your chest with a warmth and happiness you haven’t felt in a while. To know you have people in your corner that actually believe in you.
Just after his spiel, there’s a thud just behind them, to which you jerk your head up at, protectively covering El’s head.
Your heart rate has spiked and El stirs a little, but you coax her back down when Robin groans.
“Munson! You woke her up! Dipshit!” She hisses at the mop of brown waves peeking in through the door.
The world is still askew, and your voice feels a little garbled, but you manage to speak coherently. “I was already up.”
Eddie huffs and points at you whilst looking at Robin expectantly. “You think I can wake her up if she doesn’t wanna wake up, Buckeroo?”
The sentiment makes you laugh a little, your arms wrapping around the bundle of warmth in your arms tighter.
You feel the bed dip next to your head, and a mildly calloused hand on your shoulder, warmth seeping through your skin as Steve’s thumb glides over it. “You feeling okay? Soldier told us that you were trying to be badass and it failed miserably.”
He what. That little bastard made you do this exercise and pinned your fall on you?! No fucking way.
“That is not what happened— that— little fucker.” You groan, leaning your head over to see the backlit silhouette of Steve’s hair.
“Looks like that’s exactly what happened, Lil’ Hop.” Eddie muses from behind Robin, very thankful you’re too incapacitated to hit him.
“No— I mean— yeah. Yes. But— It’s his fault!” You groan, squinting and turning back to hug El.
“Mhm. His fault you fell.” Robin chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your commie crush didn’t mind.”
That makes your brain stop. “What— Excuse me? Commie what?”
Eddie practically snorts, moving to snake his hand around Steve’s shoulder. “Look at her, gaining self awareness. They grow up so fast.” He teases.
You startle up, your head spinning but thoughts clear enough to know you have to dispute this. You must.
“Ow- What- This is not true! What the fuck, you guys?!” You hiss at the three of them who are simply just grinning, your hand still buried in El’s curls. She’s woken up now too.
“Hey. Easy.” Steve huffs, steadying you gently.
“What’s wrong?” She murmurs through sleepy eyes, stretching out and laying her hand on your knee.
“No- nothing El. Nothing. They’re just being annoying.” You huff, shrugging Steve’s hand off of your shoulder.
“Uh uh uh.” Robin tuts with a cocked eyebrow. “We’re being honest. There’s a difference.”
“Honest about what?” El yowls as she stretches.
“Nothing. Because it’s a lie.” You state shortly, defending your honour. Your mind, however, is racing against your will to try comprehend why and how they reached this conclusion.
“You know I can read your mind, right?” She huffs expectantly up at you and you wonder how you missed that very obvious little thing.
“I- shit.” You groan. “Could you just not, this time?” You flash your teeth at her in a very poor attempt at a smile to appease her.
“Depends. What do I get?” This little shit. You widen your eyebrows at her just to be met with a smirk.
“You’re such a little-”
“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not say anything we’ll regret.” Steve rushes to stop your sentence.
“Or that will result in consequences involving being held at gunpoint by the chief.” Eddie mutters, his gaze drifting whilst he zones out as if he’s reliving a memory. He probably is.
You take a deep breath. Why do you even care? It’s not like they’re telling the truth. “You know what, you can read my mind because you’re not gonna find anything!”
El props herself up, squinting hard at you. Her eyes shift between yours, examining almost clinically. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but she’s not in your head, you know that much.
You manage to tear your eyes away from her strangely commanding glare, faceplanting into Steve’s shoulder, whose arms instinctively wrap around you. “I hate you.” You murmur, voice muffled.
“Yeah, alright. We got you.” He murmurs, softly, and you can feel a hand snake into your hair in a position that means it’s not his, but Eddie’s.
You just relax into their touch, like you’ve done so many times before. Your friends are your home, even when they’re annoying as shit. And as much as you hate to admit it, they are your lifeline as much as you’re theirs.
You feel Eddie’s hand untangle itself from your hair, followed by a dull weight atop your scalp, acknowledging it as Steve’s cheek. Soon enough, the warmth of his body and his shallow breaths on your hair leave you letting yourself be lulled back into sleep.
— - -
When you next wake up, it’s noticeably darker in your room. Kind of hard not to notice when it wasn’t pitch black and now it is.
Your thoughts are slow to be recalled, and they still haven’t painted the full picture of why you can’t remember a whole day until after you’re out of your bed and your hand is warm against the icy doorknob.
Stepping out into the darkness of the cabin is strangely harrowing, making your heart race. You wouldn’t be out here at this time if your throat wasn’t begging for the reprieve that water would bring it. You never used to be so scared. The last two years have changed that.
You manage to grab a glass and start the tap without much trouble, occasionally warding off the effects of small dizzy spells. As you’re watching the glass fill up with water, the bubbles swirling and being swashed around, you hear a series of creaking floorboards coming in some direction.
Your heart begins to race again and you flick the tap off as fast as you can, leaning close up against the cupboards, making yourself as small as possible.
You know that no one else is awake, it’s too late for that, and you didn’t hear a door open. It has to be something you are much too weak to fight off in your current state.
You hold your breath as the footsteps get louder and closer, your heartbeat beginning to resound in your head.
It’s only when you hear the distinctive, soft spoken accent of Dmitri that your entire body releases itself from the enclosure of your mental battle, “Little American?”
“C-ommie?” You croak, your voice hoarse and most unflattering. If you had heard it in the middle of the night, you would have turned tail and run.
You catch a glimpse of his features as his silhouette comes into view, peeking past the counter. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?”
You sigh, your arms pressed backwards against the counter. “Define ‘okay’.”
“Okay enough to walk around?” He suggests with a small, coy smile, walking around the counter and towards you. Each of his steps leaving you in more anticipation than the last.
You huff at him, reaching for your water glass. “Please. I could walk around the whole time.”
His features become clearer as your eyes adjust to the darkness, his nose illuminated by some stray moonlight and his eyes as sharp as ever, despite the protruding bags of skin that are prevalent beneath them.
“You look like shit.” You murmur, before he can even reply to your last (very untrue) statement, and he barely flinches, simply shrugging.
“What’s new?” He hums, glancing around.
You cock your head slightly. The self deprecation is not unusual, per se, for Dmitri, but it’s usually in jest. This time he said it with an unmistakeable conviction, despite it being buried under a small, twisted smile.
“Nothing,” you confirm with a playful nudge to his arm with your knuckles. The contact seems to bring him back from whatever he’s caught up in, but the air is still and heavy, despite the small murmur of a laugh he offers you.
“You okay?” You hum noncommittally, not wanting to spook him into silence.
This earns another melancholy huff from him. “You’re not the one who is meant to be asking that.”
You shrug, leaning further back onto the counter, now resting on your elbows.
He swallows, almost unnoticeable in the shadows if not for the bob of his Adam’s apple highlighted against the dark, hesitant before deciding, “I’m fine.”
Your expression sours slightly, you can feel that he’s hiding something. What’s worse, you can feel what it is from here. You felt it from the moment you were covered in leaves and his hands were holding you steady, but his muscles were tense with terror.
“Kind of stupid of me this morning, huh?” You feign an expression of amused disappointment, knowing that he won’t admit it without being coaxed.
This gets his attention, his stature immediately perking up. “You? No, that wasn’t stupid.”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Did you not watch me fall flat on my ass?”
He huffs, his head cocking up defensively. “It wasn’t stupid. You were good.”
“If I was good, I wouldn’t have fallen.” You challenge, still maintaining a lighthearted facade.
He shakes his head sharply, his eyebrows screwed. “No. You’re good. If I wasn’t being an ass and if I didn’t push you, you would’ve been fine… It was my fault. Not yours.”
There it is. You think to yourself. There’s a silence that’s palpable as he realises what you’ve done.
You sigh and set your glass down, reaching for his hands. “Dmitri, it’s not your fault. Don’t be stupid.”
Once you grasp onto his hands, you feel them stiffen under your palms. It’s not just his arms, his whole body is tense, and when you look back up into his eyes, you see something you’re not meant to see. His fear.
“You know it’s not true, either.” You probe, squeezing his hands gently.
He swallows again and sighs, and you get a faint whiff of mint from his breath. “It’s hard to say it’s not true when it was... how do you say- cause and effect?”
You smile softly, slightly melancholic, shrugging. “Yeah, stuff like that happens, but you didn’t mean for it to happen. It was training, this is what happens. Don’t feel bad. That only makes things worse.”
He sighs, and you observe his guard lowering, his hands softening under yours and grasping back as his thumbs graze over the backs of yours. His eyes soften, accentuating the darkness under his eyes and the tiredness within them, making your heart tense for a moment.
You stand in his presence for a moment, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him but knowing that you’re not thinking straight at all.
“Get some sleep, Dmitri.” You murmur, blaming every stray thought on your own fatigue having caught up with you.
He huffs and nods, stepping back and releasing your hands. You don’t see it, but it hurts him to do it.
He can’t explain why. He can’t explain a lot right now. For starters, he doesn’t usually care about people getting hurt in training — he’s so used to mild concussions, he’s learned to function optimally with them. He can’t explain why his chest tenses whenever he sees you, when he gets to talk to you. He can’t explain why he’s scared to be near you, but scared to be too far.
He can’t explain why he’s holding himself back from something even he doesn’t know when you press your lips to his cheek, softly, before retreating back to your room.
Dmitri Antonov can’t explain why he feels how he did once upon time during a summer 17 years ago, and he’s entirely too afraid to want to.
summary: Being a soldier in the USSR and having a baby (specifically a son) was more of a duty, a right of passage, than an emotional, soulful experience. So, ever since Dmitri found out you were having a girl, he's been... different.
relationship: reader x dmitri antonov
tags: fluff; pregnancy; baby fever; big emotions; pre-baby jitters; suggestive language
w/c: god knows prolly about 1-2k
--------------
"It's not easy, but I've heard girls are more manageable. And to be honest, I believe it."
You and Nancy had been moseying around for a while in the kitchen of your small apartment. It was only a temporary fix of a shelter, and once the baby arrives, you'll have had no choice but to move out anyways.
"Mm. Trust me, they are." Came some slurred speech from some corner.
Joyce was somewhere nearby, probably lazing on the couch with the TV on after a long night of standby on the radio.
"You okay there, Joyce?" You chirped, walking over to her sprawled out form, her limbs hanging off of the couch in several directions.
She whipped her head up to you with a smile, almost sitting up slightly. "I should be the one asking you that, Mama. Wanna sit down?"
The nickname Mama had become a common term of endearment towards you; bestowed by none other than Eddie Munson once you had announced you were expecting. You pretended like it had no effect on you, but it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside for some reason.
"No, I'm okay. Honestly." You offered with a big grin.
"Oh come on, you need your rest." She hummed nonchalantly, sitting up and patting the space next to her.
You hesitated before you felt gentle palms against your shoulder blades, and Nancy's soft voice. "She's right, you know?"
You chuckled, rolling your eyes before succumbing and plopping yourself down next to Joyce. Sitting down gracefully had stopped being an option once you had reached 30 weeks and you could no longer see past your bump.
"There we go. It's good, huh?" Joyce chuckled, seeing the look of relief on your face.
"Mm. I hate to– agree." A moment passed. "Admit it." You corrected, the pregnancy brain got the best of you sometimes.
Nancy sat down on the arm of the couch, one of her hands resting on your shoulder and the other snaking around to your bump, tickling you slightly. "You giving your mom a hard time, baby girl?" She cooed at your stomach, making you giggle.
"Only a little, she's been as good as gold so far." You beamed, looking down at your stomach.
"Really?" Joyce asked in disbelief and a tinge of awe. "Jonathan gave me hell, wouldn't stop kicking."
You could practically feel Nancy's wince as she recoiled at the thought. "Eugh! That must feel so weird."
"Oh it does." You laughed, rubbing your belly. "But a good weird. I'm lucky though, she doesn't kick that much. Only when Dmitri puts his paws on her. S'like she knows." You hummed thoughtfully.
You instinctively leaned in as Joyce's palm gently pressed against your arm. "She definitely does."
You beamed at her. With the absence of your own mother, Joyce was your rock through the whole pregnancy. "I can't believe we only have six weeks left till we meet her. She's going to be perfect." She cooed at you.
You were about to reply, but you perked up as you heard the keys click in the door, followed by the sound of Steve's voice. "We come bearing lots of snacks."
You grinned as you saw Dmitri round the corner of the corridor into the living room, and his eyes immediately latched on to you.
Almost intuitively, Nancy and Joyce moved away as he made his way to you, carding one hand through the hair on the side of your head, caressing you. His other hand came to support your bump as he pressed his lips to yours, making your head spin.
"Everything okay?" He murmured before pulling away to kiss your forehead.
You chuckled, nodding away. "Of course, why wouldn't it be?"
"Just checking," He chuckled, pecking you again before pulling away properly, leaving you feeling a little alone.
Hopper watched the whole interaction with feigned discomfort, but inside, his heart was softening at the edges.
The group stayed for another quarter of an hour before making their leave, all kissing your hair or cheek and rubbing your bump with a coo.
Then it was just you, Dmitri, the sunkissed apartment, and your little one.
As soon as he closed the door behind everyone, he made a beeline towards you with a devilish grin, making you giggle.
"What?"
"Nothing," He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, your foreheads resting against each other, "I just want to spend time with my wife."
"Oh yeah?" You murmured, your breaths mingling.
"Mm. And our baby." He sighed, looking down at your bump for a moment. "You're so... beautiful. I've never seen a woman so beautiful, all the time. With a baby or not.
He gently snaked his hand to the underside of your belly, holding it up slightly and relieving you of the weight you didn't know you were carrying.
"Mmm. Fuck, that feels good, baby." You sighed as you leaned forwards, wrapping your hands around his neck and murmuring the words against his lips.
He nuzzled his face closer, his moustache tickling your nose. "Say that again and I'll want to put another baby in you."
You gasped, pulling away slightly with an amused grin, "Dmitri!" You giggled.
He laughed heartily before lunging back at you, still holding your bump whilst capturing your lips against his, letting you taste the sweetness of his smile.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to take him up on his offer.
As your hands snaked into his hair, gently tugging whilst his lips worked yours, you both startled as you felt a small, but noticeable kick from your abdomen.
Dmitri immediately looked down, his pupils dilating as he looked at your swollen belly in his hand.
You nuzzled your nose against his chin, the stubble rough against your skin. "She knows her Daddy."
Usually, the nickname was a bit of a kickstarter for foreplay, but this time the moment was different. It was more delicate, more like a moment you take a mental recording of and store away forever.
He leant his forehead down to your shoulder, seemingly having gone weak in the knees.
"You okay, baby?" You murmured into his hair, just holding him.
He nodded, but the crack in his voice in his "Ye-ah," gave him away.
You shrugged your shoulder gently. "Hey, what is it, my love?"
You could feel the rush of air against your skin as he inhaled deeply. "Nothing... I- I just worry... that I won't be good enough. Good enough to protect you both. Like I need to."
Your eyebrows knitted with concern as you brought your hands to the sides of his head, thumbs stroking his cheeks. "Dmitri, you are more than I could ever ask for. You are everything that this baby girl needs."
He shook his head slightly. "I haven't been a good father to the child I have. How can I be a good father to the child I'm still waiting for?"
"My love. The answer is in the question. You're waiting for her. Most fathers are dreading their babies, but only a few of them are dreading it because they're worried they won't be good enough."
He swallowed thickly, shaking his head slightly before raising his gaze to meet yours, and your heart cracked open at the sight of him. There was real fear in his eyes, and it was something that couldn't help but make you ache for him.
"Oh, Dmitri. I wish you could see yourself how I see you. You are so perfect. Me and our baby are so lucky to have you. Don't you ever doubt that."
He sniffled slightly before wrapping his hand around your head, cradling you against his shoulder. You could feel his breaths ruffle your hair as he whispered just above your ear.
"Thank you, my love. For everything. For carrying our baby, and for carrying me. I- I'm sorry I can't bear some of this for you." He murmured, kissing your scalp.
"Dmitri," You murmured into his neck, "You're doing everything you can. And it's enough. Just keep being you. You can do this."
He paused for a moment before kissing your neck this time. "We can do this."
"Yeah. We can do this."
His hand returned to its place just above where your daughter sat between the two of you, waiting to meet the people she already recognised, the people who had written her being into existence. You two stood in each other's arms, holding on to the person that would keep you afloat during all the happiness, the pain and the tears, and protecting the little person woven together by the love between you.
i was thinking about why i find Say No to This so incredibly attractive when the song is literally about cheating
i realised that it's in the ensemble going "no" whilst hamilton's going "yes"
the musical depiction of the affair showed such raw need, and just unadulterated animal instinct which makes it feel so passionate and enticing.
he knows it's wrong and what everyone else would say but he doesn't care about that enough because he just needs her in the moment which makes it really fucking hot
regardless of whether the affair happened or whether the reynolds pamphlet was a coverup for embezzlement (very interesting theory btw) lin did a great job of making you feel for hamilton in the moment and understanding why he's doing what he's doing despite the fact it's so wrong, portraying it as something almost no one would be able to get out of
summary: mutual pining, shits n giggles posting, feel good, prolly little to no plot, not modern AU just assume they had twitter and memes on their brick computers back in the day LOL
twitter sagas continued & texts from Reader + Steve's perspective
check out masterlist for accounts
BEEN SO BUSY IVE BEEN HAVING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS SO SORRY
Girl, I am obsessed with that Dmitri fanfic you wrote. Seriously. I am in deeeesperate need of a part 2. Thanks so much girl !!! Keep up the great work!!
oh my GOSSHHH im so glad THANK YOU SO MUCH MY LOVE
IM SO SORRY FOR THE HOLD UP I PROMISE SOMETHING IS COMING IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS
im currently in uni application stages so my life is quite hectic + i'm working on good omens fics (which i don't post on here) BUT I WILL BE WORKING HARD FOR YOU!!!
