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gggoldfinch · 2 years

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Cherry Kisses

Alexei “Smirnoff” x GN!Reader

A/N: Knee deep into the new season, a lovely anon suggested I repost this after having deleted it a while ago. The new characters are great and all, but I think we’re all missing sweet Alexei right about now

Warnings: gn!reader, no usage of y/n or pronouns, angst & fluff, clumsy make-out sesh, kinda spicy but not really, references to past injury/ recovery, friends to lovers

Word Count: 2,854

{AO3 Link}

Summary: Several months after saving the life of a charmingly goofy Soviet scientist who’d been left for dead at a carnival, you find yourself with a major crush. You’re afraid to act on it, lest your feelings be unrequited and your actions ruin your carefree friendship, so instead you resign yourself to suffer in silence. Fate has other plans, it seems.

Despite the occasional wince and hand pressed to his abdomen, Alexei’s healing process has come along quite nicely. Quicker than the doctors at the hospital had anticipated, too. In less than a month your new friend had bounced back, pacing bored circles in his hospital room until you'd finally caved and brought him back into the real world. You obliged only when the doctors said it was alright; you'd never seen a more thankful expression from anyone than when you'd tried your best to explain his release from the hospital.

In all your time alive, you’d never seen anyone so eager and bright and curious as he— not even the most enthusiastic of children. Everything seems shiny and new to the man, his deep brown eyes twinkling with awe at any given moment. It's honestly the most endearing thing you've ever witnessed. Anything there is to explore he's there. His particular favorite spots consist of the Arcade, the Family Video (conveniently next door to it), and the radio store down on Main Street. He always receives odd stares from the kids, teens, and irritated parents at each location, but never seems to let it phase him. In fact, you always take more offense to it than he does, carefully trailing behind him and sending them bitter glares to ward them off.

Sometimes, when you're not paying attention, his fingers intertwine with yours as he drags you to the next thing that piques his quick-to-wander interest. His warm hand in yours never fails to send the butterflies in your stomach wild.

Granted, he can’t go many places. Not on his own, at least. Especially not with Cold War tensions running high and a potential hit on his back after valiantly defecting. No— everywhere he goes you go, and vise versa. He'd even become your impromptu roommate after being discharged from the hospital. Apparently, none of his "American friends" (a group consisting solely of Murray Bauman, recluse; Joyce Byers, moved away; and Jim Hopper, recently deceased) where willing or available to take him in. That left you, the guardian angel who'd found and saved him, to look after his fugitive self. Not that either of you ever really minded not going anywhere without the other, being practically attached at the hip from the get-go. However, due to the rather difficult language barrier and lack of proper translator, communication between the two of you is still a continuous struggle. You still don't really even have the full story on what led up to the events of last Independence Day. On the bright side, though, you’ve both come a long way in understanding each other since you'd first dragged him into the hospital that fateful day. Admittedly, he’s advanced far further than you have in the language department— not that you haven’t been giving it your all, of course. It just seems to come much more easily for him.

Now, you sit together on a park bench beside the sidewalk, shaded by an oak tree overhead, people-watching the early afternoon small-town rush. A half empty lemonade cup sits beside your thigh, where drops of water bead on the sides and seep into the wood of the bench as they accumulate and trickle down. Alexei’s arm is slung casually around your shoulders, fingers absently drawing circles on your shoulder. You wonder if he realizes how intimate such a gesture is.

He stares off at the pedestrians, cheeks pinched in a small smile as he sips his cherry slurpee through its red straw. Upon hovering at his bedside for weeks, you’d quickly discovered it's his favorite beverage behind Coca-Cola. Nothing can compare the way the colored dye stains his lips bright red, making his grin all the more perfect your eyes. It is a bit of a hassle having to drive all the way out to the far-removed gas station to get him one every time, considering it's the only place nearby that has one of the machines to make the beverage, but you put up with it for the sake of his contagious jubilation.

You observe him observing the people. He'd blatantly ignored your fashion advice and chosen the most outlandish articles in the stores you'd taken him to, favoring loud patterns and bold, clashing colors. It's actually rather cute, and suits him well. His hair is a little longer than when you’d first met a few months ago, dark curls grown shaggy and even more voluminous. He’s insisted on keeping his face regularly shaven and sideburns well-groomed, though. Your fingers twitch in your lap, imagining how it would feel to run your fingers through his hair and ruffle his curls. Before you know it, you’re lost in another fantasy (a daily occurrence by now)— vividly picturing yourself clinging to him like a lover rather than a friend, holding him, touching him.

You blink back to reality when he tilts his head to look at you, stained lips pulling into a broad smile that illuminates the whole of his handsome face. His wire-frame glasses are slipped down the bridge of his narrow nose, and he swiftly pushes them back in place with his index finger to gaze at you properly. You love it when he does that.

“You enjoying your slurpee?” you ask with a chuckle, gesturing towards the mostly-empty novelty cup. He fervently nods, offering it out to you for a sip. You laugh and shake your head, gently pushing it back towards him. “You finish it, I have my lemonade.”

He shrugs, contently mutters an “Okay” and returns to peacefully watching the Hawkins residents pass by. You return to watching him, genuinely pondering what could be going on in that brilliant mind of his as he stares off.

A young couple pass by, no older than high schoolers; you'd heard them coming up from behind before you'd seen them. They giggle and mutter sweet nothings to each other as they stroll along. The girl walks with her arms hugged around the boy's waist, tucked snugly against his side under his protective arm. You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy, the pair looking joyous as can be and plainly expressing their love for each other to the world. Chancing a glance at Alexei, he seems enthralled— curiously observant of their affectionate behavior. You briefly wonder if such open affection is an uncommon sight where he's from, before turning your passive attention back to the couple. The continue to laugh with each other, the jovial sound only being broken when they move to kiss, fondly pecking each other on the lips over and over as they stroll past, giggling whenever they break.

You feel odd staring at them so you break your gaze, instead opting to tap your heels on the sidewalk concrete and stare at the cracks where plants haphazardly grow. It’s bad enough to see other couples happy, but feeling Alexei’s arm wrapped around your shoulders is a different kind a torture. You know you shouldn't feel jealous; it's your fault you fell for the man whose life you saved. The burden of your blooming feelings rests solely on your shoulders. You would never want to risk ruining your carefully crafted and nurtured friendship over something that might change your dynamic for the worse. You would never take the initiative, and never find out if your undying love for the goofy scientist is requited.

A tap on your shoulder draws you from your brooding. You perk your head up to glance at the man. His crimson-stained lips are pulled taut in that impish smile again as he tilts his head to get a better look at you. You feel blush prickling your skin the longer he silently watches you. You wait, anticipating a comment or question in that heavy and distinct (and oh, so lovely) accent of his, but it never comes. Instead he leans closer, free hand lifting to tilt your chin with fingers, chilled by the cool cup he's placed down somewhere. You’re speechless, no more than a hairsbreadth away from touching noses with the man you desire more than anything. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him, and from this perspective you can see every detail of his face up-close and personal, from the small scar hidden beneath the nose-piece of his glasses to the flecks of amber in his eyes.

Before you can fathom the events unfolding before you, he leans forward, closing the distance and planting his soft lips on yours. You can feel him smiling against your mouth. Adrenaline buzzes through every nerve and bursts like 4th of July fireworks in your head and the only thing you can think about is how strongly he tastes of sugar and cherries. The feeling is short-lived as he pulls away and releases your jaw from his gentle grip, still smiling like an idiot. When he hums gleefully and amusedly to himself and goes back to sipping his drink, the anguished realization that he may have only been fooling around hits you like a ton of bricks. Fighting the urge to smack him upside the head, you puff up in defense.

“What was that?” you bite out, adjusting yourself to sit facing him. He chuckles and shrugs, then replies in Russian. You can’t understand a word of it and only become more flustered at his complacent behavior.

“You think that was a joke?” You feel your face growing hot, both with anger and embarrassment.

You don't intend to be mean, but the abruptness of it has you wired. It didn’t feel like a playful kiss for you, nor do you want it to be in jest. It just makes your heart ache. He furrows his brows and turns to look at you, genuine confusion twisting his gentle features as he retracts his arm from around your shoulders.

“Joke? No...” he mutters, cradling the cup in his hands. His playful demeanor shifts instantly, and he hunches, shrinking under your fierce gaze.

“Why would you kiss me then?”

His confusion seems to grow exponentially and his eyes dart away. “They like each other.” He meekly gestures towards where the couple disappeared off to, “I like you. Is that... not what you do?”

His mouth is pulled into the first real frown you’ve ever seen from him. Even through grueling physical therapy and the healing process of a bullet to the liver he’d never frowned. Your heart twists at his words, and you feel like you've been shot. Had you been wrong? Is this yet another miscommunication? Blush almost as red as his beverage creeps onto his face, beginning at his ears and spreading to his cheeks and nose.

“You... like me?” you whisper, hung up on that one sentence. You could care less about the rest. The crease in his brow softens as he nods.

“дa, yes, yes,” he mutters, sheepishly shrugging and shrinking away. "I thought... это было очевиднo."

You don't quite catch the last part, but his bashful confession is enough proof for any residual distress to melt from your system. He's taken aback when you burst into an enormous smile and throw your arms around his neck, laughing with your nose pressed into the curve of his jaw. The swell of happiness in your heart is almost unbearable. This is quite possibly the happiest you've ever felt, as you delightedly pepper kisses against his full cheek. He manages to wriggle out of your latching grip and place his slushee cup down at a safe distance. He peers down at you with brows furrowed and mouth slightly ajar in what looks like a mix of shock and relief. His dark eyes twinkle with curiosity and you finally feel confident enough to slip you hand up the back of his neck, twirling your fingers around his curls. His glasses have slipped down his nose again and this time you do him the favor of pushing them back up properly.

"You... like me?" he asks, a slight pout downturning his dyed lips. You lean up to touch your forehead to his, holding him close by the back of his head. Your other hand rests on his chest.

"I have for a while," you sigh, forehead still pressed to his. "Now, kiss me again." A devilish smile spreads on your face as you bite your lip. A wave of visible relief washes over him as the tenseness in his shoulders dissipates. He giggles joyfully, gleefully obliging your request. His hands find your face and dark eyes flick to your lips— the object of his desire. You lean to meet him halfway, his cherry-flavored lips sealing against yours once more. This time it's more serious (as serious as the man could possibly be, that is), and he puts thought into the way his warm mouth moves against yours. He's gentle and tender, but he doesn't do well to hide his enthusiasm as he fervently leans against you. His hands glide from your heated cheeks to the space below your ears, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones. Your own hands remain where they are, one tangled in his heavenly hair and the other sandwiched between your chests, gripping the fabric of his garish striped button-up.

He briefly breaks and you both take gasping breaths; the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile before he captures your lips again. He tilts his head to get a better angle at you and a light moan is drawn from your throat, muffled against his plush mouth. He just about trembles with excitement under your hands at the noise. With every extra inch he eagerly leans into you, the further you're dipped backward, clinging to him as you're nearly laid out on the bench. His left hand separates from your head to grip the back of the bench, bracing himself so as to not tip you back too far. Your senses are invaded by his intoxicating scent; the cherry sugar of his lips mixed with the warm cologne that lingers on his form makes for a heady combination. Just as your lips part to allow him entrance, the small of your back bumps and subsequently topples something. Your hazy brain racks to think what it could be, when remember—

The lemonade!

You break with a surprised gasp and twist to find your cup overturned behind you, spilled all over the sidewalk and part of the bench. Alexei peers over your shoulder, resting his chin on the slope of your neck as he surveys the mess. His large hands find your waist and you turn back to him, pouting in disappointment at having wasted the rest of your refreshment. He merely grins and goes back to kissing you, gingerly pecking your smiling lips over and over.

After a moment you hear a huff somewhere to your left, and look up to see an older woman, frowning with arms crossed as she eyes the spilled lemonade splattered across the sidewalk. Her eyes trail to you in Alexei's arms, both red-faced and staring at her. She tuts in disapproval and steps over the dark patch.

"Delinquents," she mutters with a dramatic roll of her eyes as she passes the pair of you on the bench.

There's a pause as you and Alexei watch her walk away, amused and stunned speechless, before his face pinches in a grin and laugher roars from his chest. You follow suit, crumbling into giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of the event. You hook your arm around his waist to better hide your burning face in the crook of his neck, nestling against his chest. He presses his lips to wherever he can reach—your temple, the shell of your ear, the crown of your head—whispering in his native tongue between every sugary sweet kiss.

"I still have to sleep on the couch?" he mock-innocently asks in a low, accented whisper, audibly grinning with his lips against your ear. Though you choke out a surprised laugh and swat his hard chest, you can't help but feel pleasurably enticed by the suggestion.

Your grinning lips find his jaw and give him a quick kiss before slipping out of his hold, scooping up your empty cup in the process. You throw him a playful glance over your shoulder before skipping a few steps away.

"Come on, Lexi, we still have the rest of the afternoon!" you call behind you, laughing at the sound of him scrambling to collect his own cup and follow after you. You deposit your cup in the trash bin beside the sidewalk as you pass it, lingering to wait for him to catch up.

His hand finds yours as he returns to your side, fingers lacing with yours, and you look up at him. His warm eyes watch you from behind askew glasses, sipping through the straw once more. You've never been more overjoyed. Holding his hand feels different now as he cheerfully swings your joined arms. It's real now, and your love is requited. Warmth blooms in your chest, and you've never been more thankful to have gone to that carnival and saved a dying stranger.

#I used Google translate for that one line please forgive me #reposted after a long time #mwah ily anon who requested I repost this you singlehandedly got my act together #stranger things #stranger things fic #alexei stranger things #alexei smirnoff #alexei x reader #alexei smirnoff x reader #goldfinch writes

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voxmortuus · 2 years

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omg forgive me if this is stupid, but imagine the reader and alexi are left alone because hopper, joyce and murray left them at murray’s place as they went to take care of things, so the reader looks through the movies and sees [insert sexual movie] and they end up watching it together and even though they can’t communicate properly cause alexi speaks little to no english the one thing they can agree on is that they’re both unbelievable horny and smut ensues

I can't even with how cute this request is! I am so glad you came to me for this request!!! I hope you like it!!! Alexei deserved so much better!!! He is the softest bean ever!!!

PAIRING: Dr. Alexei x Fem!Reader

UNIVERSE: Stranger Things

WORDS: 1k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG OR POST THANK YOU! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above.

Trigger Warning(s): TBD | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love!

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

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Clicking your tongue against your teeth, licking your lips, your fingers tap against your legs looking around Murray's home. You have no idea what to do, and here with Alexei let's face it, conversation just isn't happening. Letting out a loaded breath you look around. Taking a seat on the couch next to him you look at the TV as he flips through channels. Admittingly, you find him adorable, in that nerdy way. Maybe it was because you felt like you were going to die, and he was that last man on Earth kind of feeling. Shaking your head you let out another loaded breath.

Pushing yourself up from the couch you get an idea, looking over your shoulder you chuckle. "Hey, Alexei? Wanna help me find a movie? Video?" you ask him holding up a movie kinda hoping he will understand.

With a grin on his face he nods, standing up, he places his strawberry Slurpee on the table and makes his way over to you, and looks over the various VHS tapes. He chose an unmarked video, you went to stop him but it was too late. He sits down and picks up the remote control and presses play.

Patting the spot next to him insisting you sit with him, you give a nervous smile and sit, almost afraid as to what will play on the screen. You watch and it's cartoons that were recorded on the television. You chuckle looking at him as he watches in almost nothing but concentration on the screen. But there was one that caught your eye. Biting your lip you stand up and make your way to the videos again and pull out Love Bites.

Clearing your throat you tuck some hair behind your ear and look over his face a moment after catching his attention and smile. "Alexei, I was thinking something more adult..." You take the remote from his hands and place it on the TV. You eject the tape of cartoons and replace it with the adult film. Fast-forwarding through previews and other various content, you get to the start of the film.

Making your way back to take your place next to him, you sit, placing your hands in your lap fidgeting a bit. The film starts playing the music and it catches his attention, a smirk spreads across his face and he begins watching intently. He looks back at you and then at the screen again. A smile forms across your lips. He scoots closer to the edge of his seat watching intently.

Licking your lips, you feel yourself getting tingly against your skin, feeling your nipples react. Biting your lip you press your thighs together feeling the pressure against your bud you rub them together slightly. Alexei sits back and you place your hand on his thigh and he looks at you and smiles. Pulling your hand he places it on him to show you that he was rather excited. Licking your lips you let out a shaky breath.

Taking his hand you place it on your breast and he smiles even wider. He moves in to kiss you, and you run your fingers through his dark curly hair. Letting out a soft moan you begin to rub him against his pants but he needed more, you both did. He moves you to straddle him. Grinding your hips against his bulge you let out a soft whimper as his hands slip under your shirt and unhooks your bra pulling both your shirt and bra from you and tossing them behind him like yesterday's trash, he kisses your swollen perky breasts.

With a soft whimper you stand up, stripping your pants and panties, you stand there, fully exposed in front of him, and bite your lip. He unbuckles his belt, moves his pants down and grabs at your hips, and pulls you onto his lap. He slowly slides you down on top of him and you both let out a soft groan. Your fingers play at the nape of his neck, as you ease yourself on him you feel him begin to fill you with his length and width. You tremble and your walls clench around him.

His hands move to your hips as he watches the TV, almost as if getting ideas, you chuckle softly and look down at him and take his face and focus it on yours as you begin to slowly move against him. Your body moving up and down, gripping him as you go up, and pushing as you go down, feeling that pressure against your walls. You drop your head back a bit and let out a soft moan. His hands grip at your waist as he nods his head and helps you pick up your pace a bit more.

Your breasts bounce in his face as he smiles watching them, enjoying them. He leans forward taking a nipple between his lips as he begins to suckle at it. Your skin is sensitive and you let out a louder moan. As his hands grip your waist you whimper softly as he helps guide you a little quicker. His groans fueled your moans.

"Fuck. You feel good." You whimper softly.

Nodding his head he moves to lay you down on the couch and he pulls from you stripping down himself he lowers himself between your legs slipping himself back inside as he begins to thrust with a harder thrust. Hearing the moans from you, the moans from the TV fueled both of you. As his thrusts picked up his hands explored your body. It was like he was committing every inch of you to memory.

As he picks up his pace, you match his, wrapping your arms around his, your nails dragging across his back. With a growl, he presses into you harder, faster. Pressure's building for both of you as you begin to feel your legs shake, his breath on your neck as mutters in your ear, not like you understand, but you get a general idea, your entire body trembles as you let out a heavy scream and he pushes himself into you deeply and releases his own finish.

Taking a moment, both of you panting, you both look at each other and chuckle, he gets behind you on the couch and wraps his arm around you as you both continue to watch the video. After nothing but thirty minutes, he looks down at you and brushes your hair from your face and chuckles, muttering one English word.

"Again?"

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