Morosis *✿ stranger things one shots

𝘛𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘚𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 [D. Antonov]

Summary: You and Dmitri huddle for warmth after escpaing the Russian Prison

Warnings: Mild language

A/N: Soooooo ok, I mostly like all the young adult and teen guys in Stranger Things, aka Steve, Eddie and Peter Ballard/Henry/001 BUT there is SOMETHING about this man that just makes me the BIGGEST simp ever! He's got this look...I just...even my mom agreed. Dmitri is HOT! And since there is a horrible LACK OF CONTENT for him, I threw this together. Hopefully there's some Dmitri simps out there who will enjoy! Also, I am not Russian and yes I used Google Translate for the Russian bits. I know Translate sucks but it's all I've got. If you're Russian and you can correct me, feel free to!

also once again I couldn't find a gif that was the proper size...so I just did a photo...

Words: 1228

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Escaping prison sucked every last drop of energy right out of your body. Dmitri and Hopper had to do most of the work fighting your way out. You pitched in here and there. Afterall, you weren't landed in the cruelest Russian Prison for stealing from a candy shop. You're well on your way to becoming one of the greatest female spies, and your martial arts skills are through the roof. That said, you've spent the past week rotting behind bars, without enough sustenance or rest to sustain your badassery. Luckily, the American guy with the glasses – Murray – has some moves up his sleeve and takes your place. The three men lead the way into the tundra, dragging you and Hopper's woman along. You stick close to Dmitri. Murray you don't know, and Hopper is busy protecting his lady, but Dmitri radiates warmth and security, the two things you need most at present. By process of elimination, you wind up tucked against his side, the two of you limping to a truck.

Murray takes the wheel. The rest of you pile in where you can and hang on for dear life as he sends the truck barreling into the snow. It feels like a roller coaster. An experience you haven't had since childhood. The sleet puffs and sloshes as you rock side to side, crashing into pits and bracken. The good news is no one seems to be following you.

The bad news is Murray hits a rock and everyone in the back is tossed around like cats in a bag.

Hopper's lady screams and he catches her around the waist, holding them to the wall of the truck. You go flying –

The truck levels out and you fall in a heap.

A low groan stirs from beneath you.

You peel open your eyes.

Oh sh–

"Are you alright, шпионка?"

You bob your head and crawl off of him quickly. Dmitri simply lays there until you stretch out a hand, which he takes, and rides your pull to get back on his feet. His gloved hand is still grasping yours when another bump in the road sends the two of you tripping back into the wall. Dmitri's full body weight falls against you, crushing you into the metal. Your entangled hands are trapped between your torsos, your faces a breath apart.

All this time you spent in prison with him and you never realized how blue his eyes are...

"I can't wait to get out of this damn truck," He murmurs.

His breath tickles your lips.

Your laugh catches like a hiccup in the back of your throat.

Eventually a plan is made to crash the truck, grab some supplies from the back, set the thing on fire and walk the rest of the way. Dmitri rips a limb off a fur tree, positions himself at the end of the line and washes away the footprints as he walks. The five of you march for miles through the snow until the stars start to come out and the chill becomes unbearable. Hopper spots a cave of sorts and a meger fire is made. Everyone crowds around it, clamoring for a spark of warmth to pat a bit of feeling into their fingers. Once everyone's got their share of heat, watches are set. You and Dmitri take the first watch, mainly so Hopper and his lady – who you learn is called Joyce – can spend some time together. The Americans climb into the small cave. Quiet sets over the camp.

You huddle closer to the flames and rub your arms under your armpits.

A shiver wrattles your body anyways.

"Cold?"

Dmitri eyes you inquisitively.

You shrug. "A little."

He rocks forward to sit up straight, "I am surprised."

Surprised?

Smiling cheekily, he adds, "Surprised that you have not acclimated to the cold of the motherland after so long been here. You kill men with your legs and cannot stand a bit of frost?"

You scoff. "Temperature is uncontrollable. Fighting is a skill."

"I beg to differ."

"Oh?" You pivot to face him properly. "Well get over here and show me your 'temperature skills' Antonov. I bet you're as cold as I am."

Dmitri smirks.

The fire crackles. His boots crunch through the snow as he plops down behind you. You frown and try turning around but he sets both hands on your shoulders and forces you to face the campfire as he reclines your back against his chest. His hands move to the threadbare blanket wrapped around your shoulders. He tugs it aside and drapes it over your front with the elegance of a cartoon character, laying a tablecloth over a restaurant table for two. His arms come around your middle, holding you close as he rests his chin atop of your head. Dmitri's breath warms your frigid scalp. Little by little, you feel his body heat pooling in with yours. Everything that touches him is as cozy as what faces the fire.

Despite your indignance, you sigh and relax into the depths of his embrace.

"Better now?" He murmurs.

You hum, eyes heavy.

Dmitri's laugh rumbles in his chest. "What I tell you? Temperature is a skill."

"Shut up and keep me warm."

He drops his face into your hair to keep from shocking the whole forest with his laugh. You feel every heave of breath rush in a wave of tingles along your head. "You are something else, шпионка."

You turn your cheek to his chest and smile, "Я надеюсь, что я что-то хорошее."

The smile that spreads on his face you can feel against your hair, but the swelling of his heart at the utterance of his native tongue is hidden beneath the density of his coat.

When you wake, a hand caresses your cheek. A warm, calloused palm. Your eyes flutter open, lightly crusted over. As light filters into your vision, you see Dmitri, hovering over you. His mouth curls into a sweet smile. His hand slips along the curve of your jaw.

"Good morning, sleepy-head."

You grin. "Hi."

The two of you waste a precious minute staring at each other like two stars in the galaxy, admiring the other's brilliance.

But reality sets in. You're the first to ruin the moment, "What's the plan?"

"Hopper is getting little food we have. We will walk all day, put more distance between us and prison."

You nod.

Dmitri pulls away but you latch onto his sleeve and tug him back. His knees hit the snow and he eyes you with concern.

"Hopper's not here yet..." You widen your eyes and pout your lips, "Stay?"

Dmitri visibly melts in the wake of your puppy eyes. Wordlessly, he rolls onto his back in the snow and curls an arm around your waist, drawing you to his chest where you lay half of your body. Your legs knock together as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck. His skin is hot to the touch. He smells like vodka. He smells like home. You haven't had one of those in a long time. As you wrap your arms around him, you leave a kiss on his jaw. A thank you kiss. An 'I love you' without the waste of oxygen. Dmitri trades a kiss on your temple and gives you a squeeze.

"Я тебя люблю."

He trusts you'll understand.