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December 5 2025, the moment a Russian Air Force Antonov An-22 cargo plane breaks up mid flight, after getting pulled from a museum to be pressed back into service, following massive losses of cargo aircraft in the Russian Air Force at the hands of Ukrainian forces.
Antonov An-225 Mriya
Antonov An-225 Mriya. I miss it.
Blood Thirsty.
Pairing: Dmitri Antonov x Hoppers Daughter!reader
Word count: 1.8k
Summary: wet veins from the past come, seeking salvation in a dream. For a truth seeking in a lustful bite
Dmitri is brought back from Russia with the one and only Hopper. Of course, Dmitri is very grateful for his dear friend's hospitality. He plans on being respectful towards him, but how long can that last when his daughter is in the next room, waiting to be corrupted?
Context: Takes place after the events of Season 5, and Billy Hargrove lives 🙈🙈
Warnings:Age gap relationship, smut
A/N: first fic guys 🥳🥳 @idontknowanythingatallsblog 💕💕 a master at editing
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Frustration crawled all over my skin as I sat in the living room, fiddling with the frayed edges of my textbook. I was in my 3rd hour of homework for my Russian class. I felt the letters becoming more and more foreign with every line I revised, with every sentence I tried to translate. Instead of completing my work, I found myself dreaming about the living room walls enclosing me at any moment. The source of my frustration was not the Russian homework I was having immense difficulty completing, but a dream I had had some nights ago, it’s events replaying in my mind like a broken record.
The dream was of a girl, not entirely me in a sense, but someone else. This girl desperately craved salvation, desiring a vampire to materialize in her life to keep her in check and satisfy her mind. The images of a vampire, one that would never grant her satisfaction, haunted her mortal body, claiming every thought and every last bit of her soul. She was slowly brought to the brink of insanity.
Like the girl in my dream, I found myself enamored by the idea of submitting my life to an immortal being. Maybe someday I’ll get that kind of satisfaction, I thought to myself, but right now I’m stuck trying to teach myself a language that does not fit squarely into my brain.
My dad had left hours ago to take his new fiance, Joyce, out on a date at the local drive-in theater. So, it was just Enzo and I at the house. We have never really talked to one another except in passing, and even then it was only ever formal, courteous conversations. But, for some unknown reason, I found myself glancing at him from afar, memorizing the way his hands flexed as he was paging through a book or the way his throat bobbled as he took a sip of water. Afterwards however, I always feel guilty. That feeling, that craving- it finds me quickest when I’m alone in my room, and makes me have these dreams that I never had before. But, the theme is always the same: Salvation gifted by the supernatural, and I enjoy every second of it.
I felt the couch sink next to me. I turned to look and quickly panicked, pretending to understand what’s in my textbook. I couldn't help but feel an aching sensation in the pit of my stomach feeling his breath lurking on the back of my neck. It was like I was waiting to be corrupted.
“Where is your father?” Enzo asked in his thick Russian accent, the one that never escapes my mind.
”On a date with Joyce.” I muttered, pushing back all of the possible scenarios that could happen on this very couch as I waited for his response. The guilt was already trickling inside me as salvation swarmed my mind. I allowed myself to glance at Enzo, but found that he was already off the couch next to me like he couldn’t even handle being next to me for longer than a minute.
I sighed going back to my homework, putting pen to paper, finally understanding the material.
”That's wrong” I heard a voice behind me say.
”No it's not.” I was quite confident that my work met the standards of my Russian teacher.
“Your writing it’s very robotic, no?” He added as he leaned forward to read more of my work. I watched as his muscular arms reached over my shoulders, turning the page of my notebook. The motion, however simple, made me squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.
“Well it’s just for school.” I retorted, ignoring how my breath hitched as I felt his face near my ear.
"Don't you want to talk to me in my mother tongue, lyubimaya.” He laughed in a tone I could’ve sworn was flirtatious, but I knew Enzo wouldn’t speak to me like that. He made it very clear that he had no intentions of pursuing any type of relationship with me, even a platonic one. Since my dad brought him into our home, I reassured myself that it was probably out of respect. But, the thought of sneaking around with him in the midst of the night was enough to make my bed sheets soaked.
“How can I make it sound less robotic then?” My eyes widened slightly as he sat back down next to me and took my textbook gently out of my hands. His beard was freshly shaven, and before I could stop it I immediately imagined how it would feel up against me. I looked away before my thoughts became too much to run away from, even I couldn’t keep up with them.
“I heard you and your little boyfriend fighting yesterday,” Enzo said as he turned the page not even looking in my direction.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I quickly replied. It was true, I didn’t know what Billy and I had. Sometimes he would sneak in through my window, not even to talk to me, but to be in my company as I studied or watched television. However, most of the time Billy and I would indulge in more physical activities, ones that required some middle ground. Last night was one of those incidents where we were fighting and one thing led to another. We were tangled in the bedsheets, our clothes forgotten on the floor. The craving of my dream came back to me as I thought about if Enzo had really heard us or if he was just bluffing. Truthfully, a part of me was enamored by the idea of him hearing me during the sinful act. Was that such a bad thing?
“Really? That’s not what I heard last night” Enzo closed the book, putting the textbook on the coffee table. This was really bad.
“What do you mean?” I asked innocently, knowing exactly what he heard. But, I wanted him to dare to speak it. Enzo chuckled, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. It was so strange, I felt like I wasn’t talking to the same man who my father introduced me to. He was bold, flirtatious, and risky- and I loved every second of it. I got more hot and bothered as my eyes darted to his lips around the cigarette inhaling the smoke effortlessly.
“I know what you are trying to do, sweetheart. It isn’t going to work on me.”
“I’m not trying to do anything.” I said quietly, looking away from him.
“Y/n, I have respect for your father. You should too”. He said as he gently cupped the side of my face to make me turn and look at him properly, making my breath hitch. His hand disappeared from my face and that moment made my thoughts blur together. The image of the vampire of my salvation took over me once again.
“He’s not here right now” I blurted out. “He’s almost never home”
Enzo smirked, lowering his cigarette in the ash tray. ”Hmm, you are going to get us in trouble, your father would kill me”. He added in his deep voice
”He’s not going to be around the entire night, he’s supposed to stay at the Byers’ house with Joyce.” I took my chance, making a bold move of moving closer to him. He smirked, shaking his head.
“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t ya?” At this point, his breath was so close to my face.
“We can go to my room if you want more privacy”. I saw a look of contemplation come across his face.
”Your father can’t know about this.” He whispered as he stood up from the couch like the walls had ears.
“He won't, I'll be careful.” I replied, leading him to my room feeling like I was inviting him into a fictional world. Enzo sat down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him. I smoothed down my skirt and sat down next to him.
“I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about you before.” Enzo said, looking over to me, his gaze lowering to my bottom half.
“In what manner, Enzo.”
“Call me Dmitri instead.” He moved closer to me, tucking my hair behind my ear, leaning closer to leave a light kiss on the nip of my ear. "It'll give me a chance to hear your Russian.”
My breath hitched as he kissed up my neck, his other hand coming up resting on the hem of my skirt. I gasped as he lowered me onto the matters, his mouth reaching mine.
"Why don’t you spread your legs apart for me, doll” He whispered against my mouth as he went in for a harsh kiss. A soft moan tumbled from my lips as I felt his hand go up underneath my skirt between my legs. ”All this for me, huh?” I never felt this before. This sensation made me throw my head against my pillow as he rubbed his hand over the soaked fabric of my panties, the places that my salvation could never reach.
”Please.” I whimpered softly as I felt his other hand tentatively go around my neck gently.
”Please what? Be more specific, Y/n.” He pulled back, glancing at my dazed features. ”C’mon, baby. Beg for it like the desperate little slut I know you are.” I couldn’t even speak, my ability to form a coherent sentence completely leaving my body. I gasped as he leaned back in to kiss down my body, peeling off my zip up hoodie as he went, leaving no skin untouched, unsalvaged.
“You are so beautiful.” Enzo mumbled between kisses as he tore off my hoodie. My legs squeezed together instinctively, but he separated them imminently. ”Remember, legs apart”. He lifted my skirt and kissed my inner thigh, dangerously close to my core. My hands tangled in his hair.
”Don’t stop” I moaned as he teased the clothed fabric between my thighs, biting it down with his teeth as he yanked it aside, ripping it slightly.
”You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined you in this exact position, looking all needy and desperate for me” Enzo said looking up at me before his tongue darted into my folds making me arch my back. I was tugging on his hair as I silently pleaded to him, making him go faster.
“I can’t- It’s too much!” I groaned, desperately squeezing my eyes shut like I was afraid to witness what happened next.
“Come for me, baby” He kept repeatedly hitting the same spot over and over again. I whimpered out of pleasure as he pulled away, coming back up with a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss me. I tasted myself on his lips.
“Can your little American boyfriend do that?” He added. The satisfaction I found myself craving in my dream, coming to reality.
Rubystar Airways / Antonov An-12BK / Maastricht Aachen Airport
Antonov An-124
C-5M Super Galaxy
To anyone who likes planes here are my babies:D
The Antonov An225 and An124, both on a 1:144 scale. Pretty cool because you can see the real-life difference those two would have in comparison to each other.
